neochan-ficrecs

[neochan-ficrecs]

full of love (and stars)

♡ pairing: haechan x reader ♡ genre: friends/roommates to lovers, light angst ♡ word count: 6k ♡ warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, slow burn-ish, a little sad (reader is going through it), yearning

a/n: time is a flat circle where it's always past midnight, but somehow it's still been very long since i last posted, but (mamma mia) here we go again, back on my little insomnia fueled writing spree &lt;3 i hope you like it, i hope you’re having the loveliest of days/nights, and if you have any thoughts or feedback about this i’d love to know <3

masterlist

♡ ♡ ♡

Most nights go like this. You lie in bed next to the open window, the orange glow of a nearby street lamp illuminating the ceiling in an almost perfect rectangle. You count the passing cars and listen in on the conversations of strangers walking by, making up stories about them in your head. Where they might be going, why they’re out so late, and sometimes you hear the same people on multiple occasions. Although your apartment is on the third floor, the building is in diabolical enough shape that the paper thin walls let you listen in on the secrets of anyone walking past on the street below.

You don’t have it in you to complain about the living conditions though. Your room might barely fit your twin sized bed, and the kitchenette might only have one working burner, but at least it’s in a fairly good neighborhood, and most places are a walkable distance away. It was supposed to only accommodate you and your roommate for your college years, but as life has it you both got stuck. You, without a job after graduation, and your roommate, who works all kinds of odd jobs so you can pay rent.

But Haechan never made you feel bad about occupying the matchbox sized room in the apartment. You wonder if you ever thanked him for it.

Most nights go like this. You watch the seconds tick by on the clock above the door, silent in motion as you count along in your head.  Sometimes the minute arm gets stuck at the bottom, and you wonder when you last changed the batteries. Then it skips from 6 to 9, and you forget about needing to buy new ones for another minute, until the vicious cycle comes to a new beginning at 6.

There are times when you get so lost in counting that the inside of your head feels like rush hour on the subway. It gets louder and louder, until the deafening cacophony of your own thoughts makes you jump out of bed in a frail attempt at getting away from the noise. It's only then that you notice your soul fraying at the edges, like the hems of a shirt well loved. You feel almost translucent, as if you're looking at your own reflection in the rippling surface of a pond. 

Stumbling over to the bathroom you grip the cold porcelain of the sink and stare at yourself in the mirror in the dark. You try to recall your own features, how long your hair might be, how tired your eyes look, and how much of a stranger you've been to your own reflection. You rub your face, harsher than you should, and let your feet carry you out to the hallway.

Shoes stand by the front door in a crooked line, and you put on the first pair you identify as your own. You grab a jacket and your keys, walking out into the hallway and locking the door behind you before setting off into the night.

You take the stairs and push the creaking door open to step into the spring night. The air is cold, with sharp teeth and loud howls as it blows past you, and you can't help but stand there. Something akin to déjà vu creeps up in the back of your throat, and you wish you could throw up to get rid of it. The cold air hugs you tight, in a vain attempt to keep you warm, but you feel a shiver climbing up from your toes to the top of your head making your teeth chatter. You finally bring yourself to put on the jacket, realizing in the flickering light of a street lamp that you accidentally grabbed one of Haechan's. It doesn't bother you enough to track up back to the third floor, so you shrug to yourself before taking a step, then another, seemingly aimlessly but with a sure destination in mind.

Most nights go like this. You count the cars and the seconds, keep secrets for strangers, ponder your existence as if you were looking at the sun through a kaleidoscope, and fall into the crack of the couch looking for loose change and a reminder of who you once were. Then you put on shoes and leave the house still in your pajamas, trekking through the empty streets towards your beloved 24/7 diner. It became a habit somehow, to end up there on sleepless nights, with a stack of pancakes and bottomless coffee on the table in front of you. You don't mind the silent walk under a blanket of stars and fluorescent storefronts. The city flickers in your eyes as you wait for the lamp to turn green at the crosswalk, even though you can clearly tell that there's no cars in sight.

The streets are mostly empty, save for a few people hurrying home, and a group of what seems to be college students waddling past you, seemingly lost in their own world. You step over a few cracks in the sidewalk and pull up the zipper of the jacket to your chin, then stuff your hands in the pockets to hide them from the cold air. It smells like Haechan, aftershave and some perfume that's way too strong. But it comforts you in an odd way, reminds you of all the nights you spent out together during your school years, getting drunk and talking until your mouth felt like cotton. You wonder why he kept living with you.

Lost in thought, you almost walk past the diner, but the distinct buzzing of the neon sign above the entrance grabs your attention just in time. You glance up at the blinking letters before stepping towards the front door and pushing it open. The air inside is warm, and smells like a Sunday morning in your childhood kitchen. You let your eyes wander for a second, noting that it's only the usual customers around. It's comforting in a way, the silent agreement between all the late night patrons, a few barely there nods as you make your way to your usual spot. The booth sits tucked away in a corner under a faintly glowing emergency exit sign that’s pointing to the front of the diner. The cracked faux leather squeaks as you take your seat, shimmying out of Haechan’s jacket and folding it in half before placing it next to you. You study the scratches on the table for a second before reaching for the menu, picking up the laminated piece of paper. You skim through it, acting interested as if you couldn’t recite the whole thing from memory.

Someone slides into your peripheral, so you move your gaze from the menu to the floor, noticing an unfamiliar pair of sneakers, followed by a very baggy pair of jeans, then an apron with the name of the diner on it. You snap out of your haze when you realize the person next to you is trying to take your order.

“What can I get for you?” He presumably repeats himself when you finally look up.

He seems out of place somehow, and you realize you haven’t seen a new person working the night shift ever since you started coming here. He stands there silently, a notepad and a pen clutched in his hands. He reaches up to push his hair back and flicks his gaze away as a blush creeps up on his cheeks, so you take it as your cue that you’ve been silent for too long. He awkwardly clears his throat when you look back at the menu instead.

“I’ll get the, uhm…” in that moment it hits you that he has no way of knowing what the usual means. You think for a moment before responding. “Have you eaten here before?”

He’s visibly taken aback by the question, his eyebrows flying to the top of his forehead before he regains his composure.

“The blueberry pancakes are quite good. I mean-” he clears his throat. Again. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

He focuses on his notepad, and holds the pen tight enough that his fingers turn white at the tips. You let the silence go on for a little too long once more.

“Okay.” You place the menu on the table and push it away from you. “I’ll get the pancakes then.” “Syrup?” He scribbles on the paper that he’s still holding onto for dear life as if it’s his ticket out of this conversation. Well, you guess it is.

“Mhm. And some coffee.” He finally looks at you again, only to raise an eyebrow in surprise. You mimic his expression, and he immediately starts writing again. “That’ll be all, thanks.”

He finally lowers his arms and you get a chance to look at his nametag. Mark. With an awkward nod he shuffles away to the kitchen, almost bumping into Haechan who’s emerging from the swing door with a full tray in his hands. He makes his way towards the front, right to a booth filled with college students studying for some exam. He easily unloads all the food and drinks on the table, twirling the tray excessively just to entertain himself. As he turns around to return to the kitchen he spots you in your seat and walks over with a little too much pep in his step for it to be almost 2 am.

He sits down across from you with a heavy sigh, leaning back against the red seat and placing the tray on the table between you. You study his face in the dim light, the bags under his eyes, and how his hair has gotten long enough to hang in his eyes. He closes them for a long second, then slowly blinks them open to look at you. He gently nudges your feet under the table and nods his head at you. “Couldn’t sleep?” You shake your head no. “Did someone take your order already? I can get you the usual if you want.”

“Some guy was here. Mark,” he rolls his eyes and you smile at him. “Had to tell someone what I wanted, it was crazy.”

“Is that my jacket?” You both glance at the seat next to you, and you nod at him in response. “Cute.”

“Shut up. I was too lazy to turn the lights on.”

“Of course you were,” he replies, which prompts you to kick him under the table. Mark arrives at that exact moment. He stands next to you just as awkwardly as the first time, but now he’s holding a steaming plate of pancakes and a lovely, watery cup of coffee in his hands. He hesitates before placing your meal in front of you, then hurries away without saying another word.

“Weird,” Haechan scoffs with a laugh.

You push the plate to the middle of the table, almost knocking off the tray in the process, and hand Haechan your fork. He gives you a weird look, but then shrugs and digs into the pancakes anyway. He hums with his mouth full, then points the utensil at the stack and gives you a thumbs up before taking another bite. You sit there in comfortable silence, and you wonder if this is weird, the way your heart swells as you watch him eat.

-

Most nights go like this. You toss and turn in bed, lost in a sea of blankets, and you suddenly feel like you’re drowning. The walls are closing in on you, and you hear strangers laughing outside your window, and suddenly it’s too much. Everything is. The emptiness in your chest multiplies, and you wonder why the city feels so lonely at night.

You stumble over to the bathroom, and look at yourself in the mirror, but all you can see is specks of toothpaste. You should clean it tomorrow.

The elevator dings in the lobby. You wonder if someone is coming or leaving at this hour; somewhere around 3 am. A bird is singing outside, and the gentle wind carries its voice into the apartment. It’s a weird part of the night, where the world is simultaneously awake and asleep, almost in limbo. 

You find yourself in the kitchen, sitting at the tiny table and staring out the window. You count the stars and the planes flying past, while listening to whatever little song the bird is chirping tirelessly outside. You think about whether it’s the same bird every night, and if it ever gets tired of singing. 

You hear footsteps from behind you and jump in your seat, only to realize that it’s your roommate in the hallway. He stands in the faint light oozing from the bathroom, his hair sticking out in every possible direction.

Haechan isn’t surprised to see you awake in the middle of the night. He’s more than used to your nocturnal existence, you quiet footsteps around the apartment, and getting a text around 4am that you forgot your keys and locked yourself out of the building. He knows it’s silly that he has his notifications turned on just for you. (He couldn’t sleep well when he put his phone on silent.) He watches you sit in the kitchen, blurry at the edges and the orange halo of the streetlamp around your head. You turn in your seat and give him a tired smile that he can’t help but return. It makes his chest feel heavy, a void that’s been steadily growing recently.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You shake your head no.

He stands there, unsure of, well, most things – if not everything. You look distant, almost transparent, and he’s tempted to walk up to you, hold your face in his hands and ask you if you’re okay. You’re friends, sure, you live together, and you’ve shared the same bed more times than not. He’s cleaned you up after long nights of drinking, and washed your hair when you broke your arm and couldn’t get your cast wet. He even signed it with his name and a lopsided smiley face.

“Wanna go to the convenience store?” He asks, and you nod hesitantly.

-

Neither of you bother to change out of your pajamas, knowing fully well that you’re only going a few blocks away. It’s been a while since you last went there together, and the walk feels longer this time. You can’t tell if it’s because of the silence, the cold of the night, or the itch in your palm. You feel like you should say something, maybe apologize for being a weird roommate, or ask him about his day, but your tongue feels numb. You look over at Haechan, who seems lost in thought, his eyes trained on the cracks in the sidewalk and his hands hidden deep in his pockets. His hair sticks out from under the hood of his jacket – the one you accidentally put on when going to the diner –, and his glasses threaten to slip off the tip of his nose, so he pushes them up. You walk in perfect harmony, only one pair of footsteps echoing in the empty street until you arrive at the store. You've been there countless times before, and the quiet hum of the coolers by the entrance puts a fond smile on your face. Haechan walks ahead and grabs two cans of soda – the one you always used to get –, then walks further into the store, right towards the snacks. You go after him, and even though you're only a few steps behind, by the time you catch up to him he's crouching in front of a stuffed shelf, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration.

"What are we looking for?" You ask quietly as you lower yourself next to him.

"That candy we ate a lot…" He trails off, focused on scanning all the items.

"The really sour one?" He hums in response.

The fluorescent lights illuminate the gentle curve of his nose, his glasses once again on the brink of falling off. He doesn’t bother fixing them this time. 

“You can help me find it, you know,” he looks at you from the corners of his eyes, raising his eyebrows, and a smile .

“I am helping,” you scoff and roll your eyes, bumping your shoulders against his.

You catch him off guard, and his eyes widen as he loses his balance and lands right on his butt, but not before trying to hold onto you for support and pulling you to the ground with him. It’s quiet for a second, then you both burst out laughing, and for a second you catch a glint of something in his eyes that wasn’t there before. You sit with your backs against a row of shelves, still quietly giggling under your breath. When you look over at Haechan, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses and his cheeks flushed, it squeezes your soul in a way only nostalgia can. There’s something beautiful about him, about the way he looks at you so gently, yet doesn’t hesitate to pull you to the ground when you push him. Something about the way he picks up your favorite drinks and snacks without a second thought, and about how he lets his shoulder gently rest against yours as you sit on the dirty floor.

He looks back to the rows of snacks in front of you, and turns to kneel with a loud aha. He reaches to the back of the lowest shelf, pulling out a lone bag of sour candy, then jumps to his feet excitedly.

“Guess who saves the day again?” He beams down at you, and reaches a hand to help you up.

“Right,” you take his hand and let him pull you up. “Would you have found it if I didn’t push you? I don’t think so.”

He rolls his eyes at you but doesn’t let go of your hand, so you get in his face in the same annoying way he always does to you.

“You don’t have to thank me, I’m always happy to help,” you say with a playful lilt to your voice, but the proximity makes Haechan gulp loudly.

He steps away, his back bumping against a shelf and knocking a few bags of chips off. He hurriedly picks them up, and nods his head towards the front of the store. You let him walk ahead, and he places the drinks and the candy in front of the cashier. Haechan reaches deep inside one of his pockets and pulls out a handful of coins and drops them on the counter, a few rolling off the edge. He waits patiently for the change, then scoops all the items into his arms.

Stepping out into the night feels different this time. The air feels sticky, coating you in something akin to longing that you won’t be able to wash off for days. It coats your tongue whenever you try to speak, and you wonder what it is about all the stars and the moon staring down at you that makes you feel so lost. The sky glitters in Haechan’s eyes, and you get lost counting the stars in them for a second too long.

-

The walk home feels oddly long, all the words that die on your tongue weighing you down. Haechan waits for you patiently whenever you fall behind, but somehow that ends up making you feel worse. You immerse yourself in all the intricacies of the sidewalk, so much so that you end up running into him in front of your building. You mumble a sorry, to which he only replies with a small nod of his head as he fishes his keys out of his pockets.

The need to break down crying squeezes your throat, and you blink away a few tears while Haechan opens the front door and pushes the call button for the elevator in the dark lobby.

“Too lazy to walk,” he shrugs when you give him a questioning look.

You quickly wipe your eyes with your sleeves before the elevator door dings open. Haechan holds the door open with his hand while you squeeze past him, directing your gaze at the grimy floor once again. His eyes are burning a hole into the side of your head, and he stands next to you motionlessly. You try to reach past him to push the button for your floor, but he stands in your way and blocks the panel with his body..

“Wha-”

“We’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong,” he says simply, crossing his arms in front of his chest. You roll your eyes at him, and he copies your pose before squinting at you. “Be less obvious next time.”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying,” you huff at him and try to step out of the elevator, but Haechan closes the doors before you can make your escape. “Dude! What if someone calls the elevator?”

“Their problem, not mine.” You let out a frustrated grunt. “We can be here all night, or you can, you know, tell me what the fuck is wrong?”

He stands there so calmly, his arms still crossed as he leans back against the wall behind him. You feel small under his gaze, and a little stupid, too. You didn’t expect him to not notice, of course, but you didn’t expect him to bring it up either.

“Can we go home?” The question comes out as a whisper. “Please?”

He sighs, but drops his stance and gives in, finally pressing the button to the third floor. You thank him just as quietly, and try your best to disappear inside your jacket.

Haechan holds the door open with his hand while you get out, then opens the front door for you the same way. You both kick off your shoes in the hallway, and you beeline for your room, but can’t help but look back at him. He stands there, looking defeated and exhausted, and it squeezes your heart, a gentle yet firm grasp, a constant reminder of something much bigger. He fishes a can of soda out of his pocket and holds it out for you.

“And what about the candy?” your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, but you mask it with a quiet laugh.

“Keep forgetting who I’m dealing with,” a tired smile plays on his lips, faint, but enough for now. He walks closer and holds out both items this time.

“It’s only fun if we share it.”

So you end up sitting together on Haechan’s bed, cross legged and hunched over, the bag of sour candy ripped open between you. It’s dark in the room, save for the few squares of orange on the ceiling thanks to the street lamps. His eyes sparkle underneath his glasses even in the dim light.

It’s been a while since you last spent any significant amount of time inside of his room, usually only sticking your head in the door to ask if he needs anything from the store. It’s a lot cleaner than you’d remembered it to be, and that little detail alone makes it feel unfamiliar.

You study the pattern of his bedsheets, trying to ignore how much it smells like his jacket.

“Do you want one that’s not sour?” He asks suddenly, his mouth still full.

“But aren’t these all-” You look up at him, and he’s barely a few inches away, a piece of candy that he’s licked all the sour coating off between his teeth. He wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you can’t help but laugh as you push him away with a finger on his forehead. “Gross.”

“Your loss,” he shrugs, then pops another piece into his mouth, his face immediately scrunching up from the taste.

Something about the moment feels so fragile, as if you could break it with one wrong move. So you decide to stay still instead, a faint smile on your lips as you watch Haechan struggle with a lemon flavored candy. He cracks open his soda to wash it down, and it almost bubbles over into the sheets, but he slurps the drink up before it could spill.

You study his face, connect the moles on his cheeks with your eyes, watch him dig through the remaining snack. He grins at you as he raises his hand in front of your face, a green piece of candy pinched between his fingers.

“Found another apple one for you,” he wiggles it in front of your lips, then pulls away with a playful smile. “Open wide, here comes the airplane!”

Something about the moment feels so fragile, as if you could break it with one wrong move. Your body aches, itches to lurch forward and kiss him, let him steal all the remaining air from your lungs. Instead, you let him drop the candy in your mouth, grimace when the sourness of it coats your tongue, scrunch your nose and pucker your lips. You catch Haechan glancing at them, and he visibly gulps when he trails his gaze up to your eyes.

For a second you let yourself imagine what would’ve happened if you made a wrong move.

-

It’s one of those nights where the smell of spring is heavy in the air. The sky is an endless void, all the stars hidden behind a wall of clouds. You know it’s going to rain, but you leave without an umbrella regardless, opting for Haechan’s jacket instead. He made a few jokes about hiding his jackets away in his room, but then in true Haechan fashion he started leaving that one specifically on your designated hanger by the front door.

It’s not cold enough for you to wear it, but as you walk into the street you put it on anyway, snuggling into the comfortable scent of the soft material. It almost makes you feel guilty how a fuzzy jacket makes your chest feel so tight and your heart beat a little faster, how you try to make yourself small enough to get lost in the warm fabric.

The walk to the diner feels a little too long, leaving you too much time to overthink everything and anything possible. When you finally make it there you stand outside, the buzzing neon sign above the door peacefully blinking down at you. With a heavy sigh you push the door open, and you’re immediately greeted by Mark, who’s in the middle of taking someone’s order. You give each other a small smile and a barely there nod as you walk past him to your usual spot, the faux leather creaking as you take a seat. Over the past few weeks you’ve gotten to know each other with Mark, making small conversation whenever the place was empty, and you could finally say the usual when ordering. You consider him somewhat of a friend now, even if in a weird, situational way, given that in your mind his existence is inherently tied to the diner.

You shimmy out of the jacket and place it on the seat next to you, then pick up the menu while you wait for someone to take your order. A few drops of rain knock on the window next to you, and you lazily rest your head in your palm as you watch the beads of water race to the bottom of the glass. You wonder if it’s still going to be raining by the time you decide to go home.

You try to focus on your own face in the glass, unfamiliar and even more tired than usual. The sight makes you feel uneasy, so you count the scratches on the table instead, until a familiar pair of sneakers slide into your peripheral, followed by baggy jeans and an apron. You’re about to recite your order to Mark when your eyes widen in surprise as you realize that instead of his notepad and pen he’s holding a steaming plate of blueberry pancakes and a cup of coffee. 

“The usual?” He asks with a warm smile as he places everything on the table.

You return his expression and thank him, but when you reach for your coffee you notice that he’s still standing there.

“Everything cool?” You ask him.

“Oh? Yeah, sorry, I just-” He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Nevermind.”

“Dude, calm down,” you motion at the seat opposite of you for him to sit down. He hesitates before doing so. “What’s up?”

You take a bite of your food and watch him fidget in his seat, the tips of his ears turning pink, then the color slowly creeps into his cheeks.

“Are you and Haechan… You know…” He trails off, his eyes nervously scanning your face..

You raise an eyebrow at him before taking another bite.

“Are you guys, like, dating?” His question makes you choke on a piece of pancake, sending you into a coughing fit. You finally manage to take a sip of the coffee and wash the food down. “Yo, I’m so sorry, I just thought- You just always look at each other like that.”

“Could you be any less specific?” You truly feel at your wit’s end from the conversation.

“Dude, I dunno, just like… Full of love. I don’t know!”

“Did you have to say love like that? Gross.”

He groans in frustration, but then another customer calls for a waiter, and you can see the relief in Mark’s eyes. He flashes you an apologetic smile before hurrying away from your table, leaving you with even more thoughts than you arrived with. Suddenly you hope that Haechan is too busy hanging out with the kitchen staff to come out front.

You sit over your plate of half eaten, now cold pancakes, your mind racing fast enough that you barely feel like a passenger in your own body. You connect the squished blueberries, thinking about the stars in the sky, and the moles on his cheeks. Full of… love. You wish you were full of pancakes instead.

Sighing loudly, you push the plate away from you and lean back in your seat, closing your eyes in hopes of a moment of peace. Rain knocks on the window, louder than before, and you weigh your options – staying, and potentially having to look Haechan in the eyes, or running home in pouring rain.

A loud groan slips past your lips when you open your eyes, and you finally make up your mind, grabbing the jacket next to you and slipping out of the booth to hurry outside. The rain is colder than you expect it to be, quickly soaking your hair and your shirt, along with the jacket clutched under your arm. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, let the drops of water hit your face as you stand there.

The door of the diner creaks open and the sound makes your heart skip a beat as you realize that it could very well be Haechan. You slowly look to the side and let out a shaky breath when you notice that it’s only a customer. He gives you a weird look, but then opens his umbrella and walks past you without a word.

You walk home in the rain, let the water dissolve your thoughts and wash them into the gutters. The third floor seems an eternity away as you slowly climb up the stairs, leaving wet footprints everywhere. Then you stand in front of your apartment, trying to push your keys into the lock with fingers numb from the cold, when the door swings open, and you come face to face with a wide eyed Haechan. He frowns at you, but steps aside silently to let you in, then locks the door while you kick off your sopping wet shoes.

Then it’s quiet. A heavy quiet, where it feels like the whole world is pushing on your chest at once as you stand there, soaked from head to toe, the chatter of your teeth giving away just how cold you are.

“You’re home,” it comes out as a hoarse whisper.

“It’s my day off,” he says matter of factly, followed by a sigh. There’s an unusual, almost sad curve to his voice. His eyes bore into yours, gently, carefully, and Mark’s words echo in your mind. Full of love. “What?” He asks after another beat of silence.

“Don’t look at me like that,” your voice breaks, and you can feel tears well in your eyes.

Haechan’s face softens, and he steps closer to your shivering figure, wrapping his arms around you. A sob rips from your throat, so you hide your face in his chest, warm against your skin. In a way you’re thankful that he doesn’t ask you to explain what that means.

“You’re freezing,” he says softly, rubbing small circles on your back. “Come on.”

He slides his hands over your shoulders and down your arms, intertwining his fingers with yours to pull you along into his room. He rummages through a few drawers before pulling out one his shirts and a pair of sweatpants, then turns back to you to hand you the clothes. You stare at the items in his hands.

“I have my own clothes,” your eyes flick between his hands and face.

“Right,” he rolls his eyes. “And you have your own jacket, too.”

Your cheeks feel significantly warmer at his words, and you meekly take the clothes from him. He leaves to make you a cup of tea, and you make your way to the bathroom to change out of your wet garments. You throw the discarded items in the washing machine to deal with them later, then dry yourself with your towel before putting on Haechan’s clothes. They smell like him, of course they do, and it makes your head spin.

By the time you go back he’s already sitting on his bed, looking out at the murky city through his window. The sky is already getting lighter, despite the unrelenting rain, and you can make out the distant song of a few birds.

Haechan pats the mattress next to him when he notices you standing in the doorway, and you hesitantly make your way over, sitting the same as him with your back against the wall.

You let yourself get lost in the moment, and lean your head on his shoulder, holding your breath without even noticing. He moves his arm to wrap it around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. Your heart hammers away in your chest, and you can only hope that he can't hear it. For a while neither of you speak, sitting in comfortable silence while your body returns to a normal temperature.

"Are you tired?" You reply with a nod, then lift your head to glance at him.

He's looking at you, and only then do you realize the proximity, your faces close enough that you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to. You swallow hard, watch as his gaze trails from your eyes down to your mouth.

"You're looking at me like that again," you whisper into the air between you.

"Like what?" His eyes stay glued to your lips.

"Full of love."

He finally leans in, kissing you softly, gently, impatiently. You turn to face him, and he places his hand on your neck, his thumb resting on your cheek as he pulls you closer and closer, his lips warm against yours, and you gladly let him steal all the remaining air from your lungs.

-

Most nights go like this. You lie in bed next to Haechan, the orange glow of a nearby street lamp illuminating his gentle features. You count the stars in his eyes, and connect the moles on his cheeks, tracing them with your fingertips, then rest your hand against his warm skin. He smiles at you before turning his head to place a kiss in your palm, then looks back at you, exactly like that – always full of love.

[neochan-ficrecs]

[03:23]

renjun x afab!reader

warnings: smut, renjun has a wet dream about you, handjob

you’re not sure what time it is when you wake up. you’re groggy, and you don’t even know why you’re awake. it’s not until you feel movement behind you, hips pushing against your backside that you realize what’s going on.

renjun is grinding against you in his sleep.

the realization causes you to still, body stiffening up. he continues his movements, and you can feel his warm breath at the back of your neck. you can feel his hands slowly making their way to your hips, a tight hold beginning to form.

you’re not really sure what to do. he’s been your best friend for quite some time, never really outright telling you that he likes you. you have to ignore how haechan tries to quickly tell you something about how renjun feels before renjun covers haechan’s mouth with a hand.

there’s a small suspicion of his feelings towards you at the back of your head. you can’t say you don’t feel the same way, you’ve always taken a liking to him, always arguing together with a smile on his face.

even if you know how you both feel, you don’t know what to do with him like this. you can feel how warm he is behind you, how your shorts have ridden up, how you can feel his hard cock in the confines of his shorts.

there was never a problem like this before. well- not really a problem, but more of a situation like this. all the times you’ve slept in the same bed together, he would try to argue against it, eventually giving up because “he can’t be bothered arguing with you.”

his grip on you is getting tighter, his cock grinding harder into your ass, quick pants against your neck. you’re beginning to feel it, too. you can feel yourself getting wet, but all you can do is squeeze your thighs together, hoping to get any stimulation.

it’s not until you hear a soft moan of your name that you decide to wake him up. you shakily pull away from him, a quiet groan leaving him as he loses the friction against him. you can properly see his face now, eyebrows furrowed and his lips in a frown.

you whisper out his name, and nothing. if you look down, you can see how his cock is twitching against his shorts. you place a hand on his shoulder and shake him lightly. to no avail, you do it once more while calling out to him.

you can feel his body wake up under your touch, stretching before he groans out loud. you watch nervously as he tries to wake up, wondering what exactly is going on.

he’s not sure why he’s awake right now, but he knows you called him and he knows it’s too early. he realizes how hot he feels, sweat at the back of his neck, wondering why he feels so gross.

it’s not until he feels himself throbbing in his shorts that he realizes what’s happening. he feels mortified. he’s hard in front of his best friend, who, not to mention, he likes. he wonders if you noticed, maybe he can just play if off and walk to your bathroom.

“renjun…” you start, and he immediately feels embarrassed, can’t help how his cock twitches at you calling his name. “i woke up and i felt you… against me…”

it’s quiet in your room save for the heavy breaths coming out of the two of you. “so you.. was i…” he breathes, not really knowing what else to say.

you nod, “yeah… you were-”

“don’t even say it. i’ll just- i’ll just go to your restroom or something,” he grumbles, cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “just go back to sleep. i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable.”

before he can move away, you grab his arm, holding him in place. he shuts his eyes, refusing to look at your pretty face. “don’t go… i can help you? if you want?”

“no! i mean, no, i just… i can take of it myself. i didn’t mean for you to see me like this.” he says trailing off at the end. the thought of you helping him get off only affecting him more than he wants it to.

“please? wanna help you, you felt so nice against me, wanna feel more.” he can’t help but shudder at your words. it’s not that he doesn’t want you to help him, but he’s still fighting how embarrassed he is at the fact that he was humping his best friend in his sleep.

when he lets out a small groan, he agrees. you’re both facing each other, and in the darkness of the night, he can still see the soft smile on your face. you look nice in the hint of moonlight in your room, and he realizes that this is you he’s doing this with, you put him at ease.

your hand trails up his thigh, feeling around the soft skin before you make your way to the tight front of his shorts. his hand grabs onto your wrist before you shake him off, scolding him with your eyes. you grip his clothed cock, feeling around his length.

he moans out at your touch, already sensitive with how he was grinding against you earlier. your thumb traces his clothed tip, his hips bucking into your hand. his eyes shut again, the feeling too much for him to handle.

your hand inches to the waistband of his shorts, your hand now fully wrapped around his length. it feels so different than his own hand, so much better than what he could’ve imagined. when your hand starts moving against him, he can’t help the small moan that escapes him.

“what is it, renjun?” you say a little breathlessly.

“just feels so- fuck, good. your hand feels good.” he groans out, rushing his words out of embarrassment. it’s easy for your hand to move around his cock, the precum from his dream helping your movements. renjun can hear the slight squelch of you jerking him off, shoving his face further into the pillows.

he hates how quickly he feels like he’s about to cum. he hates how he can see your thighs squeezing together, turned on by the sight of him. he hates how badly he wants to kiss you right now.

you see how hard he’s staring at your lips, his mouth panting, almost pleading you to reach forward. you do, and renjun cups your face in his hands, deepening the kiss. you kiss each other slowly, exploring each other for the first time. while this is happening, renjun’s hips move against your hand on their own, fueled by your soft mouth.

“i’m so close. please don’t stop, oh my god.” he can hear your airy laugh, his hands moving to grip on your sides for support.

you kiss the side of his cheek, “please cum for me… wanna see you cum.”

he lets out a choked moan of your name, moving to kiss you messily as his hips buck against your hand rapidly. his body’s tired with the over exertion he’s put on it so early. it doesn’t matter though, not when you’re squeezing your hand over his length.

it’s not until you whimper out his name and rub your thumb over his slit that he cums. he’s letting out small moans and whimpers mixed up with your name. cum spills out of his tip, cock throbbing in your hold as you help him ride out his orgasm.

you laugh as he lets out an embarrassed groan, hiding his face into the pillow, “i can’t believe i did that in front of you, that’s so stupid. i’m so stupid.”

“i really liked seeing you like that, if it makes you feel better. i’m like, drenched through my panties.”

it doesn’t make him feel any better. he’s filled with the thought of your wet folds, how good you’d feel around his fingers. all because of him. he looks at your face, desperation all over.

through his embarrassment, he grumbles out, “can i… help you with that?”

-

a/n: don’t ask me what this was. i don’t know… i really don’t… fastest renjun thought i’ve ever had… im just gonna say it’s a little gift for 100 followers YAYYY 🫂❤️

[neochan-ficrecs]

rating: 18+. mdni.

content: noncon, prostitution, jeno x reader, jaemin x reader

jeno is standing by the door. at least, that’s what he said he was going to do. you stopped believing him because it always seemed to take longer than it should for him to finally come to your rescue, but you still hope he is.

you imagine him standing under periodically flickering white lights that buzzed all the way down the corridor. in your head, he doesn’t even have his phone in his hand, he’s focused, standing guard and ready to react when things get too rough and violent. you know it isn’t hard to tell. the walls are paper thin and the building is almost always empty aside from one or two other couples engaging in the same business as you that always kept to themselves.

jeno tries to make up for it afterwards, flaunting stacks of cash he managed to make that night by letting you choose a single item to indulge in. it’s never an easy decision to make, having to think of something that wouldn’t anger him and risk not getting anything at all and a punishment when you finally made it back to his house. so, you always end up settling for a simple ice cream cone, hoping your favorite sugary childhood treat would distract you from the feel of your skin that always felt foreign afterwards, and soothe the ugly feelings that bubbled in your chest with no where to go, only doubling and making it feel heavier and heavier as time goes on.

but the reality is, jeno isn’t rushing to save you and you know that, only choosing to paint pictures in your mind to attempt to calm your nerves and avoid harsh reality of what you already knew.

jeno is especially happy when na jaemin comes around. your boyfriends smiles almost seem genuine when he comes to collect you long after jaemin has left just in case he wished to stay a little longer than arranged. he deserves it, jeno says, you know it’s because of the large tip he throws onto the bedside table, sometimes he throws it right at you, letting it fall onto your sweaty skin.

jaemin is angry today. the air surrounding him ice cold, his frustration laced within it, leaving a sour taste on your tongue. he wasted no time, foregoing his usual “playtime.” you were stunned, somehow the quick escalation unsettling you more than the long, drawn out game he usually played.

now, his hand is pressing on the side of your head, pushing your cheek deeper into the flat pillow that reeked of mildew. the mirror facing the bed caught your attention, jaemin’s strong arms bulging as he flexed, using more force than necessary to hold you where he wanted.

you felt gross, shuddering as you met your own eyes. you blinked quickly, vision blurring just as fast as it cleared, tears falling one after the other. jeno is standing by the door, you told yourself.

[neochan-ficrecs]

nct dream reaction :: getting horny unintentionally

𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗗? 〚YES〛/ 〚𝗡𝗢✗〛 ⟶ requests are closed.

AUTHORS NOTE. was talking abt this with @haechrry a while back and i almost passed away so i had to write it. also, a biiiiiig thank you to @dollyji who helped give ideas for chenle and jisungs (mwah). also again this isn’t proofread it’s currently 5am so if you notice any mistakes, no you don’t <3

. . . 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞

mark always has his hand on resting on your thigh, both intentional and unintentional. you learnt over time that this specific form of physical touch comforted him, made him feel at ease, grounded him whenever he was stuck in his own head. the touch comforted you too and you didn't have any problem with it, but it was the strokes of his fingers and the grabbing of your flesh that turned a sweet moment into a moment of want and need. you wanted nothing more than to grip his hand and shove it in between your thighs to where you yearned for him the most.

you're stuck in one of those moments, eyeing his hand that rests on your thigh, watching his fingers drum against your skin as he hums a tune under his breath all while staring down at his phone in his other hand. he has no idea what he's doing to you.

"what are you looking at?" he suddenly asks you and your head snaps up to meet his eyes, noticing that he's staring at with you an unreadable glint. "what's up?"

"nothing" you shake your head, but you press your lips together with a deep exhale as you start to feel mark's fingers knead into your skin. "do you know what you're doing?"

"no?" he frowns before his attention dart down to his hand, realisation creeping over him. "oh" he gives you a boyish grin, something you immediately want to kiss off of his face. "i didn't know me doing something so simple turned you on so much"

"everything you do turns me on"

"i can do something about that, if you want?" mark suggests as he shuts off his phone and places it down, turning to face you fully as he leans in close, "just open your legs a little wider for me, baby"

. . . 𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗡

he’s just standing there. he’s just standing half naked with a towel hanging loosely off of his hips as he rummages through your drawers to look for his sleepwear. yet there’s something about him standing half naked in your room that has your mind running wild.

the imprint of his cock pressing against the material of the towel has your mouth watering, the water droplets that slide down his chest does nothing to help calm your feral thoughts and you can almost feel yourself beginning to drool when his body turns to face you, throwing a clean shirt and boxers down on the bed.

you watch with hungry eyes as he tugs the towel off his hips, letting it fall to the ground as he reaches for his boxers to put them on but your quicker, leaping over the bed covers to snatch them up, causing him to make a noise of surprise as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“i need to get dressed” he chuckles when he sees you hold the item close to your chest. “baby, come on…”

“i don’t think you’ll be needing them” you say truthfully and you see a smile start to form on his lips.

“and why’s that?”

“because i’m going to suck your cock” you tell him, noticing how his cock twitches at your words. “and then you’re going to fuck me. after that, we’ll shower together to not waste water… and maybe we’ll go for round two”

“yeah? is that right?” he asks you and you nod immediately. “alright. get on your knees for me then and suck me off so i can fuck you good”

. . . 𝗝𝗘𝗡𝗢

it's supposed to be a romantic date night with you and jeno, enjoying the midnight sky after a hefty meal and a few drinks, wrapped up in each others arms as you enjoy your alone time together.

but the situation you're in doesn't feel romantic in the slightest, in fact you're feeling a little hot and aroused being pressed up against a railing with jeno standing behind you, chin resting on your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your middle, his body flush against yours as he takes in the scenery.

you can feel him, all of him. his cock pressing between your ass cheeks which is covered by a flimsy skirt and every breath he takes, it presses more into you, caging you between him and the railing.

your pussy aches for him, desperate to flip up your skirt and push your underwear to the side to have him so easily slide into you and fuck you right here in public, for anyone to see, but you know that's not going to happen.

"this is supposed to be a romantic date night yet you're grinding your ass against my cock like a bitch in heat" you hear him murmur into your ears and you mewl softly, doing nothing to stop your actions as you continue pushing back into him and he grips your hips tight, hissing through his teeth. "keep going and i'll bend you over this railing, let the whole city hear you scream my name"

. . . 𝗛𝗔𝗘𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡

the position of haechan laying between your thighs, head resting on your belly as he watches something on his phones screen has you feeling weak in the knees. his breath fans against your skin, his hair tickles you every time he moves, the light pecks he gives you randomly has you squeezing your thighs around his shoulders.

he coos, taking it as a sign of you hugging him and he stokes you, delicate fingers tracing shapes on your skin, not realising the damage he’s causing to you and your poor panties that are probably soaked in arousal, feeling uncomfortably sticky on your folds.

you try to manoeuvre around to get some friction, to feel anything that could satisfy the need for him and the way he slowly turns his head to look at you could almost be deemed as comical if it wasn’t for his darkened gaze.

“i know what you’re doing” he says, completely disregarding his phone as it drops to the bed sheets. “i know me laying between your legs like this is turning you on. Do you think you’re sneaky?”

you cant help but scoff, “You knew yet you didn’t do anything about it?”

“just wanted to see if you’d beg me” he states nonchalantly, pressing his hands on your thighs to spread them apart further, smirking as he sees the damp patch on your shorts. “do it, baby. beg me”

. . . 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗡

“fuck, why is this so hard?” you hear jaemin curse under his breath from the kitchen and your brows pull together at the sound, peering your head around the doorframe to see your shirtless boyfriend staring down at a recipe on the countertop, palms flat against the surface and muscles bulging as he leans in to take a closer look.

he grumbles and curses again, mumbling something about the ingredients as he runs his fingers through his hair and let’s put a frustrated sigh, craning his neck back to reveal his adams apple.

the sight, undoubtedly, is arousing. seeing jaemin so worked up and cursing over something so simple has you feeling a little hot and bothered, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you watch him roll his shoulders back with a grunt and he goes to turn, seemingly heading towards the cabinets but stops in his tracks as he sees you, leaning against the doorframe with a familiar glint in your eyes.

“how long have you been standing there?”

“long enough” you answer, clearly checking him out as your eyes roam over his chest and down to his vline where the rest his hidden by a pair of sweatpants that hang from his hips. “what are you doing?”

“was hungry, tried following a new recipe” he explains to you with a grin, drumming his fingers against the countertop as he looks at you, gaze turning sultry. “although if you come over here and sit your pretty little ass down in front of me, i may be hungry for something else”

. . . 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗡𝗟𝗘

“did you see that? that was such bullshit… what the fuck? how can someone be so dumb? so clueless? i swear, they do this shit on purpose. stupid fucking idiots—”

you’re salivating at the mouth hearing chenle curse out the players on the tv screen, too engrossed in the game to notice how much of an effect his rant seems to have on you.

chenle getting riled up over anything and everything is definitely one of your favourite versions of him, seeing the annoyance and anger swimming in his irises, face red and teeth grit together. he doesn’t get riled up at you per se, it’s at everything else that pisses him off. (even though sometimes, you do wish it was you, hence why you always act like a brat in the bedroom).

eyeing him up, seeing how his jaw clenches makes you want to push at his shoulders to lay him down flat and smother his face more than ever, and with his fists clenching at his sides makes you yearn for him to manhandle you in his grip and have you in any way he prefers.

but it was him clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth and poking at his cheek in frustration that makes you snap, hands gripping his shoulders and laying him back against the sofa cushions, climbing onto his lap and tugging his belt through the loops of his jeans.

“really? that easy?” he chides you, brow raising as if to say he was in disbelief. but with how he’s growing harder beneath your palm, you know he’s feeling the exact same way as you. “come on then, princess. sit on my face while i fuck your mouth”

. . . 𝗝𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚

you’re supposed to be finishing up the latest episode of a tv show, promising to get it over and done with to spill your thoughts and theories with your bestie over text. but you struggle to complete the task when you can see jisung in the corner of your eye fiddle with his hands, twisting the rings that he’s wearing around his fingers and pressing down on his knuckles to crack them all while whispering lowly beneath his breath—lyrics of a song that sounds a little suggestive due to his tone.

you try to not take any more notice but you find yourself in a difficult position with him leaning against you and hearing the whispers so clearly in your ear and the movements of his fingers. you fidget in your seat, clearing your throat as you try to collect your thoughts all while the arousal builds, pussy clenching around nothing as you squeeze your thighs together.

“why’d you keep moving so much?” jisung suddenly asks you and you freeze, almost feeling a little silly at being caught.

“you’re distracting me”

he cocks his head to the side innocently, “i am?”

“yes” you nod. “i can hear you whispering the lyrics to that song and playing with your fingers… it’s distracting”

“is it?” jisung asks again this time, but his voice is low and sultry, causing you to turn to look at him in surprise as he smiles at you. “want me to whisper how much i want to fuck you in your ear while i finger you? i can do that if you want”

©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

[neochan-ficrecs]

at your earliest convenience

✩‌ haechan x reader | fluff | 1.3k

SUMMARY | in which haechan is always your one (and annoying) late-night customer at the 24/7 convenience store you work at and one evening, he forgets his wallet. in lieu of payment, he asks if he can take you out on a date instead. // part of the connection series

WARNINGS | slightly insecure reader, none really!

RATING | teen+

AUTHOR'S NOTE | please check out (and maybe send in some prompt requests) @nctpromptmeme!

You ring him up, like clockwork. 

The scanner picks up a bag of the Korean brand onion rings, two Red Bulls, and an instant noodle cup.  

He’s the only consistent man in your life, ignoring the fact that the sole reason why he’s in your life is because he always comes into the 24/7 convenience store you work at during late, sometimes ungodly, hours. Tonight, it’s not that bad: 1:53am. 

Rarely, no one else strolls in during your shift (and you’re grateful it’s a safe neighbourhood). 

However, this young man lives to make your shift a painful one. 

Usually with ruffled hair, transparent-framed glasses, and a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, he saunters in as if he owns the store, often swinging his keys or obnoxiously whistling along to the song playing in the background. From the moment he steps into the store, his existence alone irks you. 

Unsurprisingly, he then takes a solid ten minutes on average (yes, you’ve timed it) to buy his items. Whistling evolves into screeches or emphatic oohs and aahs. Sometimes, he even narrates the entire process, as if he's the main character in a show. And yet, despite it all, he ends up buying the same rotation of his favourite items. 

If not the onion rings, the shrimp crackers. If not the Red Bulls, the bottles of Monster instead. He may be grabbing one cup of noodles tonight, but other times it’s three. Potentially even a completely different brand, if he’s feeling adventurous.   

On that note, predictability is in his nature. You plead internally for him to live a little, to maybe even spice up his night with a little change, for crying out loud. Heck, maybe even change the grey or black t-shirt he always wears to a shade that’s not a neutral tone or to put on a jacket for once. 

And the cherry on top is the constant annoying smirk he flashes when you tell him his total. 

You want to punch it off his face, smear it across the shiny floors with the dirty mop water you use at the beginning and end of shift.  

“How are you doing tonight, gorgeous?” he asks. Sometimes gorgeous is replaced with beautiful or cutie. It only adds to his annoyance of regularity and you have an itch he does this all the time with others, making you not take his typical endearing terms seriously.  

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “I’m not gorgeous, but, as always, thank you for the compliment.” 

His smirk melts, and you catch yourself feeling a tinge of something as his features soften. 

“You are, though,” your regular says. You quickly glance up, wondering if that pout and look in his eyes are genuine. “You know that I call you gorgeous because I mean it, right?” 

You’re unsure how to react, so you give a small nod and repeat the total, softly this time.

There’s a beat when the man gets lost in thought, but the moment quickly fades. He reaches into his sweatpants. However, he stops abruptly, before he reaches in again and pats the outside of his other pockets. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. You realize two things: one, you’ve never heard him curse; and two, he doesn’t have his wallet.

Well, that surely is different than usual.

Instinctively, you pull the snacks toward you. 

“Don’t you dare think I’m letting you walk away with everything for free,” you say, half-jokingly. Even though you’re 80% certain you can trust him, you still don’t know what he’s like.  

He smiles sweetly, quite differently than his smirks, forcing you to admit he’s handsome (just a little). “How could you expect me to stoop that low?” he whine-asks, clutching his chest in pain. 

After a moment of staring up at the ceiling in thought with his tongue running against his lower teeth, a Cheshire grin spreads over his face and he raises an eyebrow.

You don’t like it one bit and regret the moment earlier, mentally punching yourself for finding him a tiny bit attractive. 

“How about…”—he pauses as he rhythmically taps his fingers onto the counter—“...you let me take you out on a date in exchange for these items?” 

A scoff releases into the air. “Are you really telling me I’m only worth $11.87?” 

“What—no! Of course not,” he flicks a wrist upward in annoyance, then gestures to himself. “A date with me is worth way more in value, so you’ll be getting a better bargain.” 

You could not believe this guy. “Is a date with you really going to be worth it?” 

“Look,” he leans in over the counter and you catch a whiff of a light, woody scent. You fight off the desire to deeply inhale it. “No matter where we go or what happens, I’ll make sure you’ll be happy by the end of it. Isn’t that worth taking the risk of losing $11.87?” 

Squinting your eyes at him, while still clutching the goods he wants, you start to warm-up to the idea since you don’t have anything to lose (but maybe that’s due to the influence of his slightly intoxicating aura). 

“Will you choose the date location?” you ask, guarded.

He shakes his head. “Everything will be up to you and I’ll try to accommodate my schedule as best as I can.” 

You raise an eyebrow, challenging him. “And what if I want to go to the most expensive restaurant in town?”

Without hesitation, he nods. “Then we’ll go to the most expensive restaurant in town.” 

“If I wanted to order the $130 steak?” 

“$130 steak it is.” 

“If I—” 

The cute (you can’t deny it at this point) stranger cuts you off with a raise of his hand. God, you hate how cocky he is. 

Suddenly, he holds out a hand, sticking his pinky finger up. He waggles it, and you realize he’s waiting for you to do the same. You curl a pinky around his.

“There. I promise you—cross my heart and swear on my mother’s life—that I’ll uphold and adhere to whatever date conditions you ask of me.” He straightens, stepping away from the counter. “Now, can I please have my snacks and drinks?” 

The events of tonight took quite a turn. Never in a million years would you think Mr. Predictability would ask you out on a date, let alone be pretty sweet about it.  

Perhaps there’s more to him than you thought. 

You hand him your phone, and he does the same. 

When he gives it back, you shake your head at the text he sent and the name he gave himself.

“Hyuck?” you ask, unfamiliar with the name.  

“Short for Donghyuck, but yes, beautiful?”

You turn your phone towards him in disbelief. “What’s with the heart next to your name?” 

He shrugs, flashing you another smug smile. “What about it?”  

Glancing down at his phone, he beams. You wonder if it’s because you wrote the following in brackets after your name: You Owe Me a Date Worth More than $11.87. 

“And your name is just as beautiful as you are.” 

Again, another eye roll. You wonder if the date will be filled with more of it. You shove the stuff towards him. 

“I have to know: do those lines really work?”

“Well, I have a date lined up with you, so you tell me.” 

Before you have a chance to retort, he grabs something out from his pocket.

A wallet.

His motherfucking wallet, and he has the audacity to toss a $20 bill onto the counter with the same grin that you still want to wipe the floor with. Your jaw hangs. 

“Keep the change,” he says, along with your name and grants you a wink as he grabs his items. 

“I’ll be seeing you on our date soon, gorgeous.” 

AUTHOR'S ENDING NOTE

thank you for reading! i've been getting so much love for this - y'all are amazing. if you would like to read an informal continuation, see here!

[neochan-ficrecs]

[SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT]

lou, you absolutely blew me away with this fic. it's cute, it's sweet, there's angst. but the entire time i can tell you one thing, i was rooting for jisung. all the way through i wanted him and reader to end up together.

i think it was absolutely genius when you separated them because it showed us how much growing up with reader & haechan affected him - how much he needed not just both of them, but especially reader :/

and showing how they progressed through the years was an amazing stylistic choice. it hurt, seeing reader move on from jisung and get into a relationship. i mean she never really friend zoned him but, at the same time, she did. and then she moved to uni and got busy with her life, which is so real, but it stung fr :(

and it made me a little peeved, that she would think jisung wants her after all this time, but i'm glad they ended up together fr. i just wish reader was more considerate of his feelings when she moved >:(.

oh and the fight scene had me absolutely screaming out loud. maybe jisung shouldn't have been listening in, but he wanted to protect the girl he's love since forever, and his CHILDHOOD BESTFRIEND! and i'm glad he did that fr. and after when he said he wanted to spend the rest of prom with her omg heart eyes fr fr i melted absolutely.

lou you're an amazing write. i cannot thank you enough for releasing this fic. it not only shows your incredible talent, but also the fact that i need to read more fics for jisung. specifically from you PLEASE<333 you ate, you devoured, you served. you gave us the best jisung fanfic of 2023. thank you bae <333

signing off, sam !

The moon to my stars

PAIRING; childhood best friend!jisung x fem reader

SYNOPSIS;  jisung has been in love with you forever but kept it a secret because he was too afraid to ruin your friendship. he had to endure watching you make a life without him until one day he could not hold it any longer, he couldn’t let the moon leave his stars. or jisung being a complete and absolute simp for the reader since he was a little boy. 

HONORABLE MENTIONS; twin brother! Haechan, jeno, yeji (itzy), jaemin, chenle, renjun

WC; 14.5k

THEMES; fluff, angst, pinning, friends to lovers, non idol! Jisung

WARNINGS; swearing, female reader, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood, physical fight, mentions of bruises, jealousy

AN; based on my jisung’s timelapses [01:10 pm], [12:30 am], [02:00 pm]. you don't have to read the timestamps to understand the fic.

also big shoutout to @cappujeno and @ichorai for beta reading this and for their support, this fic would have not happen if it wasn't for your help!

taglist; @sadgirlroo @shwizhies @patitotodd

He was five when he saw you for the first time. 

Jisung was feeling anxious, his heart was beating fast and his hands were sweating, the movement of the car making him more nervous and the big truck behind them made him feel as if he was being chased, which only fueled his panic. His family was moving to the house in front of yours where you and Haechan were playing. You pushed your brother a little too hard, making him fall, and you laughed as a result. He couldn't stop looking at you—for some reason, you intrigued him. Maybe it was the way you helped your brother immediately right after he fell, maybe it was the way you started to console him by patting his head and fixing his hair, maybe it was the way you never stopped smiling. He still remembers what you were wearing; a light blue dress with a moon right on your chest, with white sneakers and your hair up in two pigtails. You looked adorable and he knew at that moment you had the prettiest pair of eyes. 

He got out of his parent's car and the sound of the door closing was loud enough to make you look his way. You were amazed by the big moving truck and when your eyes landed on him, you waved hello. Jisung was too nervous and didn't know what to do other than hide behind his mom. After the little interaction, she took Jisung's hand and walked inside their new home—he couldn't stop looking at you even while he was being brought inside. 

A few hours later a knock on the door made Jisung look up from his coloring book. It was his mom who opened the door and later on she asked Jisung to come to the entrance. He was surprised by your presence, along with your mother and your brother. Haechan looked exactly like his mom, and he was guessing you looked more like your dad. 

“Jisung, these are our neighbors. They live in the house right in front of us, say hi.” 

“Hey, little guy.” Your mom was the first one to talk and by seeing how nervous Jisung was she smiled. 

“Hi, I'm y/n, very nice to meet you.” You extended your hand and he noticed a silver bracelet on your wrist. It looked big on you, but you didn't seem to care. 

“I'm Jisung,” he said with very pink cheeks while grabbing your hand and letting it go almost immediately. 

“This is my brother Donghyuck, but we call him Haechan.” 

“Hey, only my friends call me that.” 

“Well Jisung is our friend now, dummy.” Jisung laughed, so did his mother and yours. 

“Mom! Don't laugh, say something.” Haechan furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest, Jisung noticed that he had the same bracelet as you. 

“Y/n, we've talked about this.” Your mom’s stern tone made you look down.

“Yeah alright…” There was a defeated tone in your voice. “I’m sorry.”

“That was so fake.” Haechan pokes his tongue out and you copy his actions. 

“Kids, behave.” It only took one look from your mother to stop the bickering between you two. “Now y/n, why don't you ask Jisung's mom the thing you wanted when you saw him earlier?”

“Oh right!” The excitement in your eyes made them look even prettier, making Jisung's heart race. “Can Jisung come play with us? I promise we will take care of him and we'll have him home before it gets dark.” You gave Jisung's mom your puppy eyes and she couldn't help but laugh at your cuteness; meanwhile, Jisung was trying to calm himself. 

“I have no problem, but let's see what Jisung has to say, okay?” All eyes were on him, making him hide behind his mom once again, a habit that he does till this day. 

You noticed how shy and nervous he was, so you came closer, grabbing his hand and rubbing your little thumb on his knuckles in an attempt to calm him down. 

“Do you want to come and play? I promise we're nice people,” you said in the softest voice. It only took a look into your eyes to make Jisung forget about his shyness, the warmth in them was enough to make him feel safe. 

“Yes.” His voice was a whisper but he knew you heard him since your smile grew wider. 

“Great! Let’s go!” You pulled his hand along with your brother’s and bolted out of there with the boys following you. “Thanks Jisung's mom, I'll take good care of him, I promise!”

And that's what you did. You took care of Jisung that whole afternoon, the day after and the one after that. You kept your promise to Mrs. Park and you took care of her son up until this day. 

He was 10 years old when he discovered he had a crush on you. 

You and Donghyuck were going into your first year of junior high while Jisung was still in elementary school. He was distressed, to say the least. It was his first time going to school without the two of you, he felt lost and lonely. You three would walk together to school; it had been a tradition for years, at least for him but now that you were going to another school, the tradition was broken. It was a very mundane thing but seeing you first thing in the morning always lifted his mood up. 

Despite moving to the neighbourhood 5 years ago, he had only managed to make 2 friends, you and your brother. He feared not making any new friends during those 2 years he had left of middle school before he could join you. 

He tried fixing his tie but no matter how much he tried, it always turned out a little crooked. He let out a tired sigh and gave up. He said goodbye to his parents and then he finally grabbed his backpack to leave the house. He was surprised by your presence in his front yard. You looked so pretty in your new uniform and you no longer wore your hair up. It was longer, soft and shiny as it lapped at your shoulders, gently stirred in the breeze, the sun giving it a lighter hue. Jisung let out a sigh while admiring you. 

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” he asked, confused.

“I'm walking you to school, duh,” you said with an obvious tone. 

“Why?” 

“What do you mean why? We've been walking to school together for years, Sung.” 

“I know, but you go to a new school now.” 

“You do know it's just around the corner, right?” you giggled while seeing his red cheeks when he realized. “And even if it was far away, I don't want you to walk to school alone. It's tradition that we do it together.” 

He felt his heart racing and a certain warmth hugging him, he thought he was the only one taking it as tradition. He was so happy to find out he wasn't alone and that it wasn’t a thing that you had to do but that you also looked forward to it.

“And Haechan hyung?” 

“He left earlier since he didn't want anyone to take the last seat of the central row.” You pause. “You know how he is,” you say pointedly, making the younger one laugh. “Here, let me help you.” You untied his tie and put it around your neck. Your fingers moved smoothly and before tying it completely you took it off. “Stay still.” You put the tie around the collar of his button up, you fixed it and finally you tied it up; your fingers brushed against his neck, making him feel chills, they were cold even though it was summer. “There you go.” You moved your hands and Jisung noticed your silver bracelet once again. 

He found out that you and Hacehan had the same bracelet, both of your names engraved plus a little sun for Donghyuck and a little moon for you. It was a gift from your parents when you turned two. You once confessed to him that it was your biggest treasure. 

 “C'mon we're gonna be late.” Whilst saying that, you started walking. 

You never talked much during your walks to school, but none of you cared. It was your little moment of peace before the chaos started.

“Are you nervous?” He looked at you when he heard your voice.

“Yes, very,” you chuckled, making him smile, he couldn't help himself. 

“You'll be okay.” 

“Yeah, I don't think so.” He lets out a nervous giggle. “It's gonna be hard without you there.” 

“C’mon Jisung, you're really nice and such a good person. You just need to make the first move or keep the conversation going if someone starts one.”

“I'm terrible at it.” His tone was dejected.

“You have become much better though, Hyuck and I have taught you well. Don't tell me you have forgotten everything?” You giggled. 

“No.” His voice held a panicked tone. “It’s just that, why would people want to be friends with me? I never talk.” 

“Anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend.” Your voice was serious. “You’re loyal, funny and caring. They would be very stupid if they didn't want to be friends with you.” He noticed your anger when he looked at you.

You arrived at his school after finishing the conversation. You grabbed his hand before he could go in, making him face you. 

“You're gonna be okay. Don't worry about it too much, and have fun.” You fixed his tie one last time. “I'll come for you when school is done.” And when you fix your own hair, he noticed that your bracelet fell off. “I have to go or I'll be late, see you later!” You ran off before he could say anything else. 

Jisung was quick to grab the bracelet and put it in his pocket making sure it was safe before going in. 

“She believes in you. You can do it, Park Jisung,” he told himself and then he went on to his first class. 

School went by and it wasn't as horrible as he thought. There was a new student, who introduced himself as Chenle—he was a transfer student from China. Jisung took this as an opportunity, he went and introduced himself and helped him throughout the whole day, making sure the new kid knew where his classes were, who his teachers were etcetera… He made sure to make a good impression hoping that Chenle would want to see and talk to him again. 

The last bell rang and Jisung grabbed his things. He went to his locker, put away some books and grabbed the ones that he needed. He said goodbye to Chenle and went to his school's exit. 

“Jisung!” You waved your hand so he would be able to see you. 

He smiled to himself and he jogged to be by your side. 

“So, how was school?” 

Jisung told you everything about his hopefully new friend and the way you looked at him, made his little heart race. He was so happy not only because he was able to talk to someone but because you were so proud of him. After his little ramble he asked about your day, you told him about how boring it was and how teachers were already nagging you about your twin. You also told him about your new friends and about the classes you were excited for. 

“Well here we are,” you said while stopping by Jisung's house first. “See you tomorrow.” You gave him a smile and fixed your hair once again, making Jisung notice about your missing bracelet. 

 “Wait!” He noticed he yelled so he cleared his throat to play it off. “Here.” He reached for his pocket and got the bracelet out. “It fell this morning so I kept it with me to give it back, I know how much it means to you.” 

“Oh my god, my bracelet!” You grabbed it and quickly put it on so it won't fall again. “Thank you so much! You literally saved my life.” You hugged him tightly, not being able to know how else you can express your gratitude.

When your arms surrounded Jisung, he couldn't help but feel warm and fuzzy, he knew his cheeks were red and he really hoped you didn't notice how fast his heart was racing. He hugged you back and it felt nice. Your hair smelled like vanilla, your perfume like roses, you engulfed him but he didn't care, he was happy to drown in your embrace. 

After breaking the hug you said goodbye once again, you thanked him and finally, you gave him a little kiss on his cheek. He watched you until you were inside your home and you closed the door; he just stood there, being dumbfounded, grabbing the cheek you pecked. 

“Jisung? Aren't you coming in?” His mom snapped him out of his trance. “C’mon, food's getting cold.” 

Jisung went on with his day but he couldn't stop thinking about you. He couldn't stop thinking about how cute you looked with your new uniform, or how good you looked with your long hair, or how your hug made him feel so soft and he definitely couldn't stop thinking about the kiss. That little kiss, that meaningless kiss that only showed your gratitude, that insignificant kiss that meant everything for him. His cheeks flush all over again no matter how many times he thought about it. 

He was on his bed, trying to sleep, but he was wide awake, his chest heavy and his mind was empty, only you in it. He didn't understand why. Why was he thinking so much about his friend? Why did that hug feel so nice? Why did that kiss make him so flustered? Why couldn't he get you out of his mind? Or maybe he knew, maybe he had known for a while but he didn't want to admit it…

“Oh no…” 

He was 15 years old when he realized he was in love with you. 

It was the beginning of the second semester of Jisung’s first highschool year, he was still a freshman while you were in your junior year. You were quite popular alongside your brother, having friends in all the years, especially seniors, therefore you were always invited to the parties. This year you invited Jisung to one alongside his friend Chenle, it was his first time attending a party from upperclassmen. He was making sure his hair looked nice, and that his outfit seemed neat, he was nervous as always.

“Stop, you're gonna mess your hair even more,” Chenle said with a mocking tone. 

“Oh no, my hair looks messy?” Chenle let out a big laugh by seeing his scared eyes. 

“I was joking, geez.” 

“You're such an asshole, you know how nervous I get when I'm with her.” 

“I know, because you love her.” Chenle’s singsong tone made Jisung even angrier. 

“I don't love her.” 

“Oh please, yes you do! You're so in love with her, it's painful to watch, dude.” 

Jisung was about to say something but he was stopped by the sound of his doorbell. 

“Jisung! Y/n is here, hurry!” his mom shouted from downstairs. 

They quickly grabbed their stuff and they went downstairs. He stopped midway by seeing you, being totally enamoured by the sight of you. You put makeup on, enhancing your beauty, the gloss made your lips look plumper—he could only think of how much he wanted to kiss them. You cut your hair after years of having it long, he thought you looked adorable but somehow you also looked a little more mature, as if having long hair gave you a kind of child-like aura. Your outfit was heavily planned but it seemed effortless and he smiled seeing you were wearing the jacket he gifted you for your last birthday. 

“Wow,” he whispered to himself. You landed your eyes on him and his heart skipped a beat. 

“C'mon Sung, Hyuck is waiting and you know how whiny he can get.” He snapped out of his trance and followed you out after saying goodbye to his mom. 

“Don't worry Mrs. Park, you know I'll take good care of him.” Jisung's mom smiled. She loves the fact that you have stayed loyal to the promise you made to her 10 years ago. 

As soon as you entered the car, you grabbed the aux cord and started playing one of your playlist, making your twin nag and try to steal the cord from you. You turned the volume knob so you wouldn't be able to hear him, making the younger ones laugh and your twin to stick his tongue out to you; you answered the same way, a thing you have done ever since you were little. 

You sang all the way to the house, laughing at your horrible voice but you didn't care, you still sang with all of your energy. Haechan parked the car and you entered the party together, your twin was quick to disappear making Jisung nervous but when he felt your hand in his, rubbing his knuckles like you always do, he could feel his heart easing down, it also helped seeing Jaemin and Renjun. They were Haechan's friends first but since Jisung hung out with you two almost everyday, they eventually became his friends as well. 

You never left Jisung's side, you know he can get really nervous whenever he's in a new social situation, and a senior party is a very wild place to be, one that you know Jisung is not really used to. You took Chenle and Jisung to the dance floor, you gave them stuff to drink -not alcohol because you know Mrs. Park would kill you-, you introduced them to your friends and you made sure they were feeling comfortable. 

While you were doing all of that, Jisung couldn't stop looking at you, being so grateful to you for not leaving them; everyone noticed his heart eyes towards you but no one said anything about it, instead they planned a little something. 

“Let's play spin the bottle!” Jaemin said with excitement while he shook the empty bottle in his hand. 

“For real? What are we, five?” you said, mocking him. 

“C'mon y/n, don't be like that, it'll be fun.” Yeji, your other best friend besides Jisung, nudged your arm and made you sit down next to her. Renjun made Jisung and Chenle sit down in front of you. 

“Let 's go,” Jaemin said with a grin as he spinned the bottle. 

At the end of the day you were having fun, if people weren't able to kiss they had to take a shot, seeing their faces after it made you laugh so hard; Jisung couldn't take his eyes off you. 

“Okay, miss y/n, your turn.” Renjun placed the bottle in the middle and gave you a mischievous smile. 

You gave the bottle a spin. Everyone was paying attention, hoping it landed on Jisung. The younger one watched the bottle spin until it stopped, everyone went quiet by seeing in who it landed. 

“Guess, we have to kiss now?” you said while looking at Jeno. 

“I guess we do.” He smiled and got near you. 

You met him halfway and connected your lips. The kiss lasted seconds but to Jisung it seemed hours. He despised every moment of it and a sigh of relief left his lips when you two broke the kiss. He gave Jeno a death glare. He hated him and he wanted him to disappear forever. When he looked at you his heart sank. His hope was gone. He started shaking slightly out of fear. You were happy, hell, more than happy. You were thrilled. Your eyes were glowing with eagerness, they only glowed like that when you were really excited or when you were overwhelmed in the best way possible. You liked Jeno, even if you weren't aware of it yet Jisung knew because he knew you better than himself. He knew all of your mannerisms, your habits and after 10 years of friendship he was an expert at reading your eyes. It broke him knowing you were glowing because of Jeno, and not because of him. 

“I have to go and get some fresh air, my head is starting to ache,” he announced. Not that many were paying attention to him anyway. 

He quickly stood up and went to the backyard of  the house. The party was there too, but the music wasn't as loud, and it wasn't as crowded. He found a lonely corner and he went there for a little while, thinking about why it hurt so much if it was only a little crush, a little crush that had been going strong for 5 years now. 

“Oh no,” he said when it hit him. “Oh no, please no.” He massaged his temples, maybe that would help with the now real headache that was happening. “Fucking hell, why me?” He said looking up, asking the stars for an answer. “Why would you do this to me?” He looked directly at the moon who looked beautiful as always, trying to find comfort but it didn't work; she had always been helpful but that night, that night it felt as if she was mocking him and it didn't help the fact that it was in a waxing crescent. She was smiling down at him, it seemed as if she was laughing. 

“Who are you talking to?” 

“Ah! Fuck!” He jumped on his spot and put a hand on his chest trying to control his racing heart. “Don't do that, you scared the shit out of me!” He smacked Chenle's arm while the other tried to control his laughter. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” he said in between giggles. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?” 

“Well you stormed out of the room, and then I caught you talking to yourself outloud. I don't know how to tell you this but that's not normal dude.” The mocking tone in his voice made the younger one roll his eyes. 

“I knew that.” 

“As much as I love making fun of your antics, can you tell me what's wrong? Is it because y/n kissed Jeno?” Jisung stayed quiet but he didn't have to say anything, his face, especially his eyes gave away the answer. “Of course it's that.” Chenle looked up and a sigh left his lips. “It's just a stupid game Jisung, don't take it seriously.” 

“No, you don't know her like I do, you didn't notice but it meant more to her, it was more than just a stupid kiss to her.” He looked down and his hand found its way to his eyes, in an attempt to stop the tears from coming down. “You couldn't see it but her eyes screamed with excitement. Ugh! This is bad! This is terrible!” His hands proceeded to pass through his hair, messing it up but at this point, the boy didn't care if it was messy or not. 

“Oh, c'mon dude, calm down.” 

“I can't because you were right.” 

“About what?” 

“I do love her.” 

“What?” The confusion was evident in his face, but then it hit him. “Holy shit! Are you for real? Bro I was joking, like I knew you had a big crush on her but I never thought it was this serious.” 

“Yeah, I thought so too but seeing her kiss Jeno.” He rubbed his eyes and then he let out a tired sigh. “It made me so angry? No, is not that. Sad?”

“Disappointed,” Chenle finished his sentence. He always knew what Jisung meant even when Jisung himself couldn’t find the right word. 

“Yeah. I felt my heart sink, it broke me a little.” 

“Shit, dude.” 

“I know.” He leaned on the wall and slowly slid down until he was sitting on the floor. 

Chenle sat down by his side, he sneaked his arm around Jisung's shoulders and patted him softly, trying to comfort his friend. 

“Tell her.” 

“What?”

“About how you feel.” 

“Are you stupid? No way, she will never feel the same. She only sees me as her neighbour.”

“Oh, c'mon, you know that's not true. She hates it when you say that, you're her friend.” 

“Exactly, we're friends, I don't want to ruin that.” 

“What makes you so sure it will ruin your friendship?”

“Because she won't reciprocate my feelings and then it will be awkward and little by little, we will drift apart and I don't want that, I can't have that.” He was exhausted.

“It will be okay dude.” Chenle hugged him.

“No it won't.” He looked up once again. 

The moon was no longer mocking him, she was inconsolable. She knew how heartbroken the boy was and it made her angry not knowing how to comfort him. She had been helpful towards the boy for years now, always making him feel safe whenever he sought calmness, but tonight she cried alongside him. 

He was 16 years old when he got in a fight.

You and Jeno were going strong, almost a year has passed since that party and 10 months since you started dating. 

He hated every single second of it. It broke him having to hear you talk about how dreamy he was, and how he's the best boyfriend and the worst thing is that he wanted to hate him, but he couldn't. He made you so happy, and that was what mattered. He suffered but seeing your smile was worth all the pain. 

Your graduation was coming, meaning prom was just around the corner. Of course you got Jisung and Chenle tickets, you wanted to spend the night with the people closest to you. It was going to be the perfect night, you made sure of it. In fact the only reason why you wanted to be president of the student council was to have full control of prom night; no one was going to ruin your special night. 

You ran down the stairs the second you heard the ringbell. You opened the door and Jisung was there, waiting for you. 

“Jesus, Jisung, hurry up!” You dragged him inside by his arm, making him lose his balance and almost falling. “We don't have much time!” He straightened his position and acted as if nothing happened.

“Isn't it at like 9?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah, so what?” 

“Y/n, it's 2pm, I think we have plenty of time.” There was a mocking tone in his voice, making you death glare at him, his smile disappeared in seconds. 

“We have to go pick up your suit and Hyuck's, then my dress, then I have to come back here to drop both of you off, then I have to go to my hair and makeup appointment and then come back once again to finish getting ready, plus I have to be like an hour early since I'm the president.” 

“Why do you have to drop us off? We'll go with you.” 

“Really? You don't mind?” 

“Not at all, it'll save us lots of time.” 

“Thank you.” Your eyes were soft and the gratitude was evident in your tone. “Okay then let's go. Lee Donghyuck get your ass down now!” Jisung covered his ears, he didn't expect that scream. “Shit, sorry.” You laughed, making him smile. 

“Dude, don't scream!” Haechan made an act of presence. “I'm here, don't get all crazy, geez.” 

“Stop whining and get your ass moving.” And it only took one glare to make him silent and obedient. 

You may look like your dad but you had the same glare as your mom, making your brother very scared of you. This always made Jisung laugh, he never gets to see Haechan like this, so it's a treasure when he witnesses it. 

“What are you laughing about? Move!” you said with a stern tone. 

“Yes, ma'am.” He saluted and finally got out of the house. 

Both of you were halfway to the car when you noticed Haechan was still at the entrance, picking up the mail. 

“Hyuck, it's not the time! Move!” 

“It has the logo of The University of Sydney.” He showed a medium size envelope. “This is it y/n.” The colour left your face, your heart dropped to your stomach, you started shaking and your legs went limp. 

You went on a family vacation to Australia a few years ago and you loved every second of it. You automatically fell in love with Sydney and when you visited the university's campus with your brother you knew you had to attend that school. It had the best program for you, the classes were amazing with very famous professors. It was your perfect school.

Inside that envelope was the answer to your future. It stated if you were accepted into your dream college or if you were rejected; only the thought of not being able to go made you dizzy. You lost your balance but thank god for Jisung who was fast enough to catch you. 

“I can't, you do it.” You looked at your brother with pleading eyes. Your lips and throat went dry, making your voice sound out a little broken. 

“No fucking way!” Haechan refused immediately and got closer to Jisung. “You do it.” He handed him the envelope and Jisung was hesitant to take it.

“I don't know if I should.” 

“Please, for me? I can't bring myself to do it, Sung.” He looked at you and he melted; your eyes were literally begging him, how could he say no?

“Fine.” He let go of you with delicacy and grabbed the envelope.

He opened it and took out the letter slowly, afraid that it might rip if he hurried. All eyes were on him while he read the inside, no one could decipher what it said, his face was expressionless. Jisung read it slowly, making sure to comprehend what it said, to save himself the confusion and a possible breakdown from you if he said anything wrong. It's been only a few minutes but to everyone it felt like hours, you wanted to know but at the same time you didn't. You can't be rejected if you never knew the contents of the letter, right? Your brother, on the other hand, was impatient. 

“Say something already!” He startled everyone with his loud scream. 

Jisung looked at you with a little smile on his lips. He didn't have to say anything, you knew by looking into his eyes that everything was okay. You laughed and your eyes started to water and you were quick to engulf the younger one in your embrace. He held you close, savouring the moment since it may be one of the lasts for a long time. 

“Why are you hugging? Holy shit y/n, are you crying? What's going on?!”

“She got in.” The look on his eyes was filled with pride and happiness. 

He knew how hard you worked for this. He was there pulling all nighters by your side, being your number one hype man, having your back in the highs and lows. Jisung was there for you throughout the whole journey and to be honest, you couldn't imagine anyone else by your side, you were glad it was him. 

“Holy shit!” Your brother took you in his arms and hugged you, while making you jump and spin around together. “I'm so proud of you! You're going abroad! You're gonna live by yourself! You're getting everything you’ve always dreamed of!” 

“I know!” You match your brother's excited tone. “I gotta tell Jeno.” And just like that, Jisung's smile disappeared. Good for him that you didn't notice. 

After telling Jeno, your parents and Jisung's parents you finally went on with your day, and the busy schedule that you had ahead. 

After picking up the suits you went to pick up your dress. It was beautiful, a midnight blue dress with a subtle glitter to it, making it look like the night sky, it was backless and it had spaghetti straps. You didn't know this but Jisung convinced your mom to tell him the colour of your dress so he could buy the same colour tie. He wasn't going to be your date, but the least he wanted was to match. Then it was the hair and makeup appointment, Jisung and Haechan went to a nearby cafe to kill time while they waited for you, it was going to take a while. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked your brother when they're sitting down with some coffee and pastries. 

“A little bored but you know once we arrive at the party I'll be the star of the night.” A smirk on his lips, making the younger one laugh. 

“I meant, how do you feel knowing she's going away?” Haechan's smile disappeared and his eyes lost their playful glint.

“I'm happy for her.” He meant it but his voice had a bitter tone.

“Come on dude, it's me.” Haechan looked at him and found comfort in his eyes. In that moment he finally realised why you always did it, Jisung had the ability to let everyone feel at ease just by looking into his eyes. 

He lets out a sigh before speaking. 

“I'm happy for her, I really am but…” He played with the spoon of his drink, to calm his nerves. “I'm really gonna miss her…” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

“No, Jisung you don't get it.” His tone was quickly changed for a serious one, his eyes went from sorrow to anger in a matter of seconds and his jaw tensed. “She has been by my side literally my whole life, she's my other half… We're the sun and the moon… How am I going to live without her here with me?” 

“Hey, it'll be okay, it's not like she's gone forever.” The younger one talked with his softest voice. “She's gonna visit and you know she'll come back. She will never leave you behind, at the end of the day, you are her other half as well.”  

“Yeah I guess…” He finally looked up from his drink. “Thanks, Jisung.” 

“No problem.” He gave him a smile which was reciprocated quickly and Haechan's eyes came back to being soft and happy again. 

A little while went by when you appeared at the coffee shop all dolled up. You looked beautiful; your hair was styled making your face look even prettier and the make up was perfect, it accentuated your features. Jisung couldn't take his eyes off of you. He was hypnotised, and being honest, he didn't want to be freed from your spell. 

“Holy shit dude,” your brother let out. “You look really pretty.”  

“Wow, you really mean that?” The nervousness was evident in your voice.

You weren't really sure about your makeup, you felt as if it was too much, and it made you feel a little insecure. The shades of colour that the woman picked weren't exactly in your comfort zone but you trusted her because at the end of the day, she was the expert. 

“Hundred percent! You look stunning! Right, Jisung?” He elbowed the younger one, trying to find support from him. 

Jisung was caught off guard since he was paying his undying attention to you. He snapped out of it and he went silent for a second. His cheeks were red, his mouth went dry and his hands were slightly shaking. 

“Yes, you look stunning.” His voice was almost nonexistent, he was afraid you weren't able to hear him but the smile on your face and the slight blush creeping up gave it away. 

“Thanks, Sungie.” The softness in your voice made him lightheaded. “Let's move, we still have to go home and finish.” 

The way back home was fun. You had the best taste in music and a talent of always picking the perfect songs for the right moment. The vibes were never off when you were the one in control of the music. 

When you arrived everyone went to their respective homes, you gave them until 7:45 to be ready or else you would leave without them, your glare made them both know you were dead serious. 

Jisung was in his room, he already had his suit on and once again he was struggling with his tie, he never got the hang of it. After failing for the fifth time he let out a tired sigh and went to his mom. He peeped his head into his parents room and found his mom in her bed reading a book. His dad was nowhere to be seen since he was out on a business trip. 

“What's up Jisung?” She didn't even have to look up, she felt her son's presence in a second. 

“Can you help me with my tie?” He was a little embarrassed when it hit him. He was a 16 year old boy who still needed help from his mom. It was quite adorable, really. 

“Of course, baby.” Her mocking tone made his cheeks get redder. 

“Ugh mom!” She laughed by hearing his whining and that made him smile. 

She got up and went closer to her son. She made the knot smoothly. Jisung was amazed with the fastness and how easy she made it look. His mom fixed his tie, then his collar and finally his blazer. He looked dashing, his hair was styled away from his forehead and she was proud knowing it was all his doing.

“You look so handsome.” 

“Thanks, mom.” The shyness was evident in his voice and he scratched the nape of his neck. 

“So…” 

“So… ?” he asked, confused. 

“Is this the night?” 

“The night of what?”

“The night you confess your feelings for y/n?”

“Oh my god, mom!” He was sick and tired of hearing this.

His mom found out about his crush on you even before he even realised, and she has insisted her son to confess for years now. She rooted for you knowing how enamoured he was, she also knew you had certain feelings for him, even though you weren't aware, moms always know best. 

“What?” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, looking at her son in an accusatory way. 

“She has a boyfriend, and she’s going away soon. Why even bother?” 

“You have loved her for years Jisung, how much longer can you keep this a secret?” 

“As long as necessary.” His serious tone made her mom sighed. “It's her night, I don't want to ruin it.” 

“Fine.” He noticed the sadness in her eyes and he was quick to hug her. 

“It's okay mom, I'm okay,” he whispered and his mom tightened the hug. 

“Go, or you'll be late.” 

He broke the embrace, he gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek and he finally got out. He went back to his room and checked himself on the mirror one last time. He fixed a stray hair, he put on some rings, his watch (which you gifted him), a necklace and then he covered himself with some perfume (one that he knew was your favourite). He said goodbye to his mom and got out of the house. 

He was surprised by the presence of Jeno at your entrance, and he was even more surprised seeing him hesitating on whether he should knock or not. 

“Hey,” he said, startling the older one. Fuck, he looked good. 

“Jisung, hey.” Jisung did not miss the nervous tone and his eyes were shaking, something was off with Lee Jeno, and he was going to discover what. “You look good.” 

“Thanks, you too.” It hurt him saying that, knowing damn well you were gonna fall all over again for your boyfriend. “C'mon, let's get inside.” He just opened the door. It wasn't a surprise, Jisung has been coming here since he was five, it's his second home. 

“I'm here!” he announced his presence so no one worries. “Jeno hyung is here too.” 

“How did you get in?” Haechan was fixing his tie while coming down the stairs and he looked at Jeno confused.

“Jisung.” Jeno pointed at the younger one

“You gotta stop doing that dude,” he laughed while finally standing beside his friends. 

“I will when you stop doing the same at my house.” The younger one said in a challenging manner. 

“Okay fine, you win.” Haechan lifted his hands up in a sign of defeat. 

“You're ready to go?” Your voice made the three guys turn their heads. 

Every single one of them went silent by the sight of you. You looked absolutely stunning. The dress fitted your body in all the right places as if it was meant to be worn by you and it made your moles visible making your skin look like a starry night. The make up was perfect and your hair was also perfect, you looked perfect. Jisung's heart was racing and he was sure everyone could hear it, he couldn't take his eyes off of you, his mouth was dry and his hands were clammy. 

“Wow!” Jeno was the first one to break the silence. “Holy fuck, you look stunning! I can't believe this gorgeous woman is mine!” You could feel the heat come to your face, your smile was wide and the shyness was very evident. 

“Stop!” You hid your face. 

“Hey don't do that, people deserve to see your beauty.” Jeno took your hands off and he let out a sigh. “Fuck,” he whispered, he cupped your cheeks with his hands and then he kissed you.

Jisung looked away with teary eyes, oh how he wished that was him. 

“Sorry, I couldn't help myself,” Jeno said after breaking the kiss. 

“It's okay,” you whispered. Your cheeks were on fire and your eyes were shining like a galaxy. 

“Okay love birds, it's time to go.” Haechan was the first to speak after that scene. “C'mon, y/n! You were hurrying us before, move!” 

“I'll kill you Hyuck.” Your voice was serious and once again, your brother lifted his hands up. 

“Sorry.” And then he got out of the house. 

Jeno followed him out and you were left with Jisung. You looked at him and frowned by seeing his teary eyes. 

“Hey, Sung.” You came closer to him, you grabbed his hand and started caressing his knuckles with your thumb, like you always do. “What 's wrong?”

“Sorry it's just that, you look so pretty.” It may have been a half-assed lie but as long as you're happy. “And I'm happy I get to be with you during this night.” 

“Of course.” Your voice was soft and your touch was delicate. “You're my best friend, of course I wanted you here, with me, during this very important night.” He let out a sad giggle. “C'mon let's go.” You didn't let go of his hand throughout the whole ride to prom. 

When you arrived, Haechan and Jisung went to the gym to kill time while you made sure everything was perfect, Jeno went with you. Jisung couldn't stop looking at the both of you; you looked perfect and he loved seeing you in your president role, but Jeno, Jeno looked nervous. He followed you everywhere but he did it silently, he wasn't by your side, holding your waist like he usually does but instead he was behind you. He noticed how he was spacing out, in all this time knowing Jeno, he has never been caught off guard. 

Time passed by and the party finally started. You were at the door receiving and greeting everyone while your friends and brother danced together but after a while you decided it was time to drop formalities and have fun, so you went with your friends and started dancing. 

After a while you were called, it was time to announce the prom king and queen. You excused yourself and went backstage to prepare everything and made sure everything was perfect. You went up on stage, grabbed a microphone and asked for the band to turn it down a bit, making everyone whine a little but the moment they saw you up stage they knew what was happening. 

“Hello everyone, are you having a good time?” The crowd answered with whoops of excitement, which made your smile grow wider. “I'm glad to hear you're having fun. Well it's that time of the night.” You showed the envelope that was in your hands and the screams were louder this time. “Inside this envelope are the names of your next prom king and queen, are you ready?” 

“Yes!” everyone answered in unison, making you laugh. 

“Your prom king is…” You stopped to make a pause to build up the excitement. It also bought you a little time to open the envelope. You smile by reading the name in the piece of paper, feeling proud. “Lee Jeno!” Everyone shouted and started congratulating Jeno while he walked towards the stage. 

You gave him the ribbon that said “Prom King”, a little sceptre and you finally placed the crown on his head. You congratulated him and kissed him, not caring about all the viewers. 

“Okay now, the title that actually matters.” People laughed once again, making you feel a little proud, you have rehearsed that line for a month now. “And your prom queen is…” The drummer made a drum roll to build up tension and for you to read the words on the piece of paper. You smile once again. “Hwang Yeji!” 

Your best friend was shocked, she didn't expect it, making the moment more genuine. Jaemin, her date, walked her through the crowd and helped her up on stage since she was still in shock. You put on the ribbon and gave her the sceptre. After crowning her you hugged her tightly. 

“Congratulations babe, I'm so proud of you.” 

“Thank you.” She broke the hug and waved at the audience, making them shout even louder for her. 

“Okay now it's time for the king and queen's waltz so please clear the dance floor.”

People moved and the centre of the dance floor was empty. Jeno, Yeji and you got off of stage, you were quick to move aside, giving your boyfriend and friend the space so they could go and dance. You were puzzled by seeing them coming towards you and Jaemin. 

“Actually.” Jeno extended his hand towards you while Yeji and Jaemin went together to the dance floor. “Will you grant me this dance, beautiful lady?” 

“But you're supposed to dance with the queen, I'm not the queen.” Even though you're giving him reasons not to, you took his hand, and you let him guide you to join your friends. 

“You are my queen.” You couldn't help but feel your cheeks warm. “And besides, I really doubt people will say something about it, at the end of the day, I'm the king, and you're their president.” You both laughed and finally made it to the centre of the dance floor. 

You looked like the perfect couple to everyone that was watching. You and Jeno were described by your classmates as the perfect match, or a match made in heaven. To everyone, you were meant to be. 

Jisung watched you from afar, being overwhelmed by all his emotions. He was admiring you and at the same time he was being jealous of Jeno, he couldn't help but feel all his love for you overflowing his heart while all of his rage went towards Jeno. He felt so happy for you, seeing that you're enjoying the night but he despised the fact that you weren't with him. And he hated himself, he hated himself for being a coward and not telling you about his feelings, because now he is suffering the consequences. It was easy for him when you were single because in a way, he still had a chance, but when you got together with Jeno, all the hope he had (which wasn't much) was gone, crushed. 

He couldn't bear to look at you two anymore so he ran off out of there. He couldn't see how Jeno came close to your ear and asked you to go and talk outside. Jisung went into the first classroom, the tears were falling by themselves, he wanted them to stop but it was pointless, his heart was way too broken, the only thing it could do to fix itself was crying. His vision was blurry because of the tears so he didn't see you and Jeno coming in. He was on the other side of the room and the lights were off so he was almost invisible, neither Jeno or you noticed the younger one. Jisung hid himself when he heard the door being closed. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He froze even more on his spot by hearing your voice. He knew it was wrong to eavesdrop someone's conversation but it was you. 

“It's about you leaving.” Jeno's voice was really low, Jisung could barely hear it. “You know how we talked about it at the start of our relationship, you said if I felt comfortable with it we could try long distance.” 

“Yeah?” Your tone was worried, Jisung could picture you perfectly, fidgeting with your bracelet. 

“I don't think I can do it.” You could hear the pain in Jeno's voice and so did Jisung, even though he didn't like him, he empathized with him. 

“I mean I told you about it today, and I'm not leaving until like 2 months, we can talk about it and figure it out. Think about it, please.” The pleading in your voice made Jisung sneak a peek. 

You were holding Jeno's hands, your eyes were begging him and it made him furious. You should never be begging anyone to stay with you. To him, you deserve the best of the best. The rage was pooling inside of him, he almost came out and confronted Jeno. 

“The thing is that I have, ever since you told me you were planning on going away I've been thinking about it. I tried y/n, I really tried but I can't.” Jisung noticed your eyes watering, his hands were in fists to the point where his knuckles were white. “I love you so much but not enough to wait for you.” In that moment you could feel your heart break, the tears streamed down automatically. Jisung couldn't contain himself anymore and he came out. 

“You fucking asshole!” And after that he punched Jeno in the face, making his lip bleed. “How fucking dare you!?” And another, he could hear your screaming but he was blinded by rage. “You don't love her enough!? Then you never loved her in the first place!” And another, and another and another. 

“Jisung, stop! Are you insane!?” You tried to grab him but it was useless. 

Jeno was taken back at first but when the surprise passed he grabbed Jisung's hand and then he hit him back, so the fight started being reciprocated. 

Jisung had the advantage since Jeno was surprised by the attack but as soon as the older one gained consciousness, Jisung started to get in trouble. Of course he knew Jeno was stronger and better, but he didn't care, he was furious. Jeno didn't appreciate you enough to try, he didn't realise how lucky he was for having you by his side, he wasn't willing to sacrifice for you the way he was. Because Jisung would do anything if it meant being by your side. 

“Stop! Stop it!” You somehow got a grip on Jeno's arm and yanked him away from Jisung. “What the fuck is wrong with you!?! Are you animals!?” You were furious, Jisung has known you for years and he has never seen you this angry. 

Jisung was trying to regulate his breathing as well as Jeno, none of them dared to look at you. But, you looked at both of them, feeling disappointed and heartbroken. You looked at Jisung, his nose was bleeding, his right eye started to get black and his left eyebrow was also bleeding; you looked at Jeno, his lip was bleeding and his cheekbone was red. You let out a sigh before speaking. 

“Jeno, I think you should leave.” He looked at you in disbelief. 

“Are you kidding me?” 

“Do I look like I'm fucking kidding?” Your tone was stone cold, you have never spoken like that to him before, and it affected him. In that moment he realised how much he has hurt you. 

He got up and left, none of you noticed but his eyes started to water and when he closed the door, his tears were mixing with the blood. 

You broke down after seeing him leave. You couldn't hold it anymore and you just let go. You covered your mouth trying to keep it as silent as possible. You knew there was a big possibility that you and Jeno would break up if you were accepted, but you never thought Jeno would say that to you. “I love you but not enough…” It would have hurt less if he just said he hated you.

“Y/n,” Jisung said in the softest voice while he got closer to you. 

“Shut up.” Your voice was broken but the anger was very noticeable. “I am furious at you so shut the fuck up and get your ass to the infirmary.” You didn't move, therefore he didn't. “Now!” 

He obeyed immediately and started his way. You just needed a little time alone to get yourself together, a lot happened in a span of 10 minutes. Your boyfriend broke up with you and told you that he didn't love you enough, you're best friend heard all of it which was humiliating enough by itself, the last thing you wanted was for someone else to know; your best friend started a fight with your now ex-boyfriend and now he was on his way towards the infirmary so you could cure his wounds. Not exactly the plans you had for your prom night. You let out a last sigh, you wiped your tears away and you got out of there. 

Jisung perked up in his position when he saw the door being opened and his cheeks got redder by seeing you walk in. You didn't say anything, you just went to get the stuff you needed to cure him. He looked at every move you did, he was angry at himself for causing such a scene on your prom night but he didn't regret it; if he had to, he would do it again, as many times as necessary. 

He hissed when he felt the cotton swab on his injury. 

“Does it hurt?” you asked in a low tone, but it was expressionless. 

“It stings a little.”

“Good.” 

“That's mean,” he whispered but you heard. 

“I'm sorry, I'm just really mad.” He lowered his head but you made him look up again since you were treating his eyebrow's cut. “What the fuck were you thinking Park Jisung?”

“I wasn't, that's the thing.” 

“What were you doing there anyway?” He panicked for a second.

“I got a little overwhelmed, I needed some air I guess.” He hated lying to you but he needed to. 

“Why did you hit him?” 

“Because of what he said.” His voice turns deeper, surprising you. His voice was deep but you have never heard it reach that tone. “How could he say that? He didn't know he was the luckiest guy for having you by his side, it made me furious hearing how ungrateful he was, and how much of an asshole he was to you.” You stopped treating his injury but he didn't seem to mind. “What he said was awful but when I saw how hurt you were, I couldn't let him get away like that, rage took over me.” He finally looked at you.

You tried to fight back the smile that was trying to come out by seeing how soft his eyes were, they were holding the whole galaxy, and for him they did, since he was looking at you. 

“I know it was stupid since Jeno is way stronger than me but I didn't care, he hurt you and I needed to do something about it.” You hold his hands and you rub your thumb through his knuckles, he smiled while looking at the little action. “I am sorry for ruining your night but I don't regret it.” 

“You don't?”

“No.” 

“You're a dumbass, you know that right?” 

“That 's mean.” 

“Well I get to be mean.” You continued cleaning his wounds. “I'm stuck here with you instead of enjoying my prom night.” 

“I'm sorry.” He lowered his head once again, his voice was full of shame and his cheeks turned red. 

“Hey, I'm kidding.” You giggled softly while lifting his head up. “It was already ruined when Jeno decided to break up with me. Which was a very dick move of his, he could've at least waited for tomorrow to do it.” You giggled. 

“Asshole,” Jisung said automatically, making you laugh even harder. 

You finished cleaning his eyebrow wound and put on some ointment for the soreness and to help with the bruising. You then continued with the one on his lower lip. His usually plumped lip was even more swollen and it was starting to turn a subtle shade of blue and purple. He hissed once again by feeling the cotton swab with alcohol but you seemed to not care, you just focused on cleaning. 

“Thank you, by the way,” you said after a while. “I'm still mad as fuck but thank you for defending me like that.” He looked at you and he fell in love all over again. 

The lights of the room were off because you didn't need them, the windows did a perfect job at bringing the light from the moon and the lamp posts from outside. The moonlight hit your face in all the right places, making you look ethereal and even though you have been dancing all night and you cried, your makeup and hair were almost intact; a little out of place but you still looked as beautiful as the start of the night. Jisung could notice the anger in your eyes but he also noticed the worry, no matter how furious you were you couldn't help but worry about him.

He didn't realise what he was doing. For the second time that night, Jisung was moving out of instinct, his heart taking control instead of his brain. He got closer and closer towards you, his lips being pulled automatically towards yours as if they were magnets. And then he kissed you. It was quick and innocent, his lips barely touched yours since he snapped out of his trance but he kissed you. 

Both of you were surprised, none of you knew what happened exactly. You could feel the heat coming up to your cheeks and your eyes were wide open. Jisung's heart was racing at a very concerning speed and his head was spinning. He tried to talk, tried to explain but nothing was coming out of his lips. 

“Sorry, I lost my balance for a sec, maybe Jeno hit me in the head because I kind of feel a little dizzy.” He faced palmed himself in his imagination, what a shitty excuse but he couldn't come up with something better.

“Oh,” was the only thing that you could say. “No worries.” 

After that you finished treating his wounds in dead silence. Jisung was cursing himself in his head. You didn't know what to think exactly, but you knew one thing for sure, you were tired.

Once you were done you came back to the gym and picked your things. You explained the situation to Yeji and begged her no to tell your brother since you knew he would cause a scene, and you didn't want to deal with that, you didn't want to deal with anything anymore. She hugged you and told you she was gonna take care of everything for you, and then she kissed your forehead before saying goodbye. After that you went to your brother to ask him for the keys, you used the tired excuse and he gave in, not because he believed you but because he was having way too much fun to care. You envied him, you envied everyone who was having fun. 

When you got out of the gym you were surprised to see Jisung waiting for you by the car. He was leaning on it, his tie was loose, he took the jacket off and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, he looked pretty handsome. 

“What are you doing?” You unlocked the car and opened the door. 

“I'm going with you,” he says with an obvious tone. 

“C'mon Jisung, go back inside and have fun.” 

“I don't want to go inside, I want to spend the night with you, like you wanted.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You said you wanted to spend the night with the people you're closest to, and not to toot my own horn but, I'm pretty sure that after Haechan hyung, I'm the one closest to you.” You laughed at his antics. 

“Okay fine, you win. Get inside.”

“Yes!” He put his fist up in a sign of victory and got inside. 

The drive back home was calm. The music was lower than you typically play it, the windows were down and the air was chilly but you didn't care. You stopped at a red light and turned your head towards the younger boy, he was looking out the window. Maybe your night was ruined but seeing him by your side, admiring the night sky while softly singing the songs made you realise you couldn't have asked for a better ending to the night.

He was 18 year old when he entered university

It was the first time Jisung was walking alone to school ever since he was 5. You’re studying abroad, Haechan had a different schedule than him and Chenle lived in a whole other neighbourhood, which was closer to the school.  

He felt alone and lost, he had ever since he said goodbye to you at the airport. You were gone and he didn't know what to do. He tried to distract himself, he started saying yes to everything Chenle had invited him to and he also hung out with Jaemin, Renjun and Haechan. He tried to avoid your house though, it hurt even seeing it from across the street knowing damn well you weren't there. 

After the prom, everything was really weird. Jeno had broken up with you, so you weren't the happiest and there was a weird air between you two after the kiss that had happened. It was merely a peck but it happened and it made Jisung act even more nervous around you and it made you confused. 

You didn't know how to feel, you didn't know what to think exactly. Was it really just a mistake? Did he mean to kiss you? Was it just the heat of the moment? Your head spinned for months. You were so confused, you found comfort knowing you were leaving soon. Away from all the drama and confusion. 

You kept to yourself the rest of the time you had left at home, focusing on packing and making sure you had everything for your visa and other stuff you needed for school, also hiding the stuff you didn't want your twin to take once you were gone. You barely saw anyone, you never left your room unless it was really necessary; even your own family barely saw you and they lived with you. You were breaking Jisung´s heart without knowing, the younger one just wanted to spend as much time as he could with you but he loved you, and he was gonna respect your wish for privacy. 

You and Jisung were barely speaking. You used university as an excuse but he knew it was something else and he didn't blame you. You were desolate because of Jeno, hell, you were heartbroken and he knew the last thing you needed was another boy to mess with your feelings (not that he would). You also had to focus on your school and he didn't want to admit it but he knew his actions on that prom night confused you and he hated himself for it. The last thing he wanted was for things to be awkward between you two, he just wanted to be with you and he missed you like crazy; your absence really took a toll on him.  

You weren't able to come home during your winter and summer break, you joined too many clubs and you also joined the student council at your university; saying you were busy was nothing, you were swamped with work. You did this on purpose though, you made yourself as busy as possible so you wouldn't have to deal with your thoughts, so you wouldn't have to face your feelings and to deal with the storm happening in your head. You may not be aware of it but Jisung knew, at the end of the day, he knew you better than anyone else. 

He was halfway through his walk to university when his phone rang and he was surprised by seeing your picture on the screen, you were calling him. It was weird since you weren't speaking that much and because you hate talking on the phone so much, you prefer texting people; you only called when it was urgent or an emergency. 

“Hey, Sungie.” Your voice made his heart race and he was smiling, he was so happy to hear your voice he almost cried. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” He was happy but he couldn't help but worry. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it?” 

“Well, you hate talking on the phone, so I thought something was wrong.” He laughed softly. 

“Everything's fine, don't worry about it.” Your voice was soft but he could hear the tiredness in your tone. “Are you on your way to school right?” 

“Yeah… How did you know that?” He didn't tell you about his first day, the only uni talk he has had with you was when he told you he got in, and that was it. 

“Your mom called me.” He rolled his eyes by the mention of his mom. 

“Of course she did.” His tone was filled with annoyance and you laughed because of it. 

“Hey, give her a break, she was excited and so proud of you.” 

“Still, she didn't have to worry you about it.” 

“It's nothing Jisung really, I enjoyed talking to her a lot, especially since we haven't been talking that much.” 

“Sorry.” He looked down and his face was filled with disappointment. 

“If someone has to apologise it's me, I’m the one who has been M.I.A.” 

“But I haven't made so much effort either. I wanted to give you some space.”

“Yeah I know. Thanks...” Your tone fell flat near the end, you were disappointed as well. You didn't want space, not from him at least. 

“Why are you calling though? You never call.” 

“Oh, yeah, well…I wanted to keep the tradition going somehow.” You let out a nervous laugh and even though he couldn't see you, he knew you were fidgeting with your bracelet. “I didn't want you to walk to school alone.” 

“I'm really thankful, but don't you have classes? If you're skipping them I swear I’ll go to Australia myself and get your ass back to class.” 

“Woah woah! Easy there tiger.” Your laughter made his heart race. “I have a free period, I'm actually getting some coffee.” 

“Oh okay, good.” His cheeks turned a very bright shade of red and this was the first time he thanked the moon you weren't there to see his embarrassment. 

An awkward silence fell upon you. This has never happened, not even when you were kids and meeting for the first time. You always made sure to fill in the silence but now, you didn't know how to. You hated this, you hated feeling awkward with your own best friend, the guy that you had known for 13 years. 

You cursed yourself and him as well. How did you allow stuff to get so complicated? Why did he have to kiss you? You broke your head for several months trying to decipher what the hell was that. It was the only thing you could think of after that night. Not your break up, not your prom, not the fight but that stupid kiss, that stupid kiss that could barely even be considered one. Jisung only touched your lips for a mere second but it scarred you for life. You didn't know why, but that kiss meant a lot to you. 

And why on earth were you glad he did? You thought about how much you wished that kiss didn’t happen but being honest, you liked it, a lot, more than you should’ve. You may be in a weird place with your best friend but if you could erase that peck you wouldn’t. 

“I hate this, Sung,” you said, referring to the mess happening in your head. “I hate not being able to talk to you.” Your eyes were starting to fill with tears, thank god your voice was still stable. “I want you back, I want my best friend back, my partner, my favourite person.”

“I'm your favourite person?” He was taken back and in shock, he always thought Haechan was your favourite person, your twin, your other half, your sun. 

“You’ve always been.” A tear streamed down your cheek but you were quick to wipe it. “I need you Jisung, I miss you like crazy, I want to be with you and be able to talk the way we used to. You have no idea how much I need you to hug me.” And finally your voice failed you. Jisung’s heart sank by hearing your voice break. 

“Me too, you can't even begin to imagine.” He blinked rapidly trying to avoid the tears to escape his eyes. 

“How did we let this happen?” 

“I don't know.” 

“We promised nothing was gonna change after me leaving.” 

“I know.” 

“Then why is everything different?” 

“Because…” He wanted to tell you, he wanted to confess but the words got stuck once again. He didn't want to do it like that, during a phone call while you were kilometres away. “We're dumb?” Your laughter made the ambience lighter. 

“Yes, we’re very, very dumb.” You wiped a few tears away and cleared your throat. “Let's start being smart again.”

“How?” 

“We’re gonna try talking more, send a text once in a while, whenever we remember each other, like we used to.”

“Okay.” 

“We could also do homework together, we could schedule a weekly video call so we can catch up, talk about our life or not talk at all.” 

“I really miss you recommending songs to me,” he confessed. 

“I really miss you sending me pics of the moon.” You laughed once again, making the younger one sigh heavily, he was completely enamoured by you. 

“I missed your laugh.” It was a bold move from him but he felt he was gonna explode if he didn't say it. 

Your cheeks were warm and you hid them with your hands even though he wasn't there. He made you feel shy, which was very rare. 

“I missed your voice, is it getting deeper?” 

“I don't think so.” 

“It better not or else I'll lose my mind.” 

“Why?” he asked curiously. 

“Well you know how much of a sucker I am for a dude with a deep voice…” The verbal vomit came out by itself, you weren't aware of what you were saying until you heard nothing from the other line. “Damn, I fucked up,” you whispered but he heard you. 

“No, no, it's okay, I knew that.” He cleared his throat in an attempt to calm his nervousness. “I'm sorry but it's something I can't control, you’ll just have to deal with it.” His mocking tone filled you with relief. 

“I’ll try my best, but I don't make any promises.” You followed his joke up, thanking him for not making it weird again. 

“I'm here,” he announced when he arrived at his school’s entrance. 

“Good luck Sungie, remember that anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend.” 

“Thank you.” He smiled and looked down trying to hide his blush. 

“Let me know when you're done so we can talk on your way back home, okay?” 

“Yes, ma'am.” 

“I mean it, Jisung.” The seriousness in your tone gave you away. 

“I know.” He let out a few giggles. “Thank you for calling me.” 

“Well, you know how I am, I love our little traditions.” 

“I love that you do.” 

“Bye Sung, good luck.” 

“Bye y/n.” And after that you hung up. 

He felt a weight being lifted away from his shoulders, his heart felt lighter and he was beyond happy knowing that you two were going to be okay. It may not be exactly like it used to but it was better than nothing. 

He was 19 years old when he confessed his love towards you. 

After that call on his first day of university, your relationship started blooming again. You both kept your promises and started texting and calling each other more and more, just like the old times. You made several video calls where you would talk for hours, from dusk till dawn or you would stay quiet and just enjoyed each other's presence. Jisung always sent you pictures of the moon and you started sending him songs that you thought he would like, you even started making him several playlists; he always listened to them on repeat. 

Winter break came and you were finally able to go back home, you noticed how much you loaded yourself with work to avoid the whole Jisung situation but since you two were fine now, you gave yourself a break. Everyone was head over heels when you told them you were coming back home after a while of not being able to. You longed to spend christmas and new years with your family but especially with Jisung, since this was the year he would finally reach age, he would be able to drink and you wanted to be there. 

Your parents picked you up at the airport, both ran towards you and engulfed you in a big hug, a suffocating one actually. After a very emotional welcome from them, you finally went up to the car and made your way home. Haechan received you at the door and your father announced to you that Jisung was also there, your eyes lighted up and you were quickly to look for him, only to find him standing there waiting for you. You were surprised by looking at how much he grew, and when he spoke you felt your legs wobbling slightly by hearing his deep voice. You engulfed him in a hug and then you dragged him and your brother towards the living room to catch up. It was very late at night when Jisung had to return home, in all the time he was there you couldn’t stop looking at him, you were hypnotised. 

Christmas passed by and it was one of the best you had celebrated. Your family and Jisung’s always celebrated it together, the dinner was made by your mom and Jisung’s mom while your fathers were in charge of the drinks. As always everything was wholesome and you had the best time ever. 

Time passed by and new years came by, Yeji invited you to a party but you didn’t stay much since you wanted to be with Jisung on his first night as an adult, sadly when you arrived he was already drunk thanks to you brother and his friends. He took you out to the backyard and he confessed his feelings for you in his drunken state, taking you by surprise. Even though you weren’t sure about your own feelings you told him that you can figure them out together and then you kissed him properly this time. You weren’t sure why you did it but you didn’t regret it. It felt nice, it felt familiar and it made you feel warm. It was the best way to start the new year. 

After that night Jisung made his life mission to help you figure out what your heart wanted. He was finally able to act according to his feelings, he didn’t hold back and made sure to prove to you that he meant every single thing he said during that new years night. He spent months clearing all of your doubts, answering all of your questions and giving you the assurance you needed. After all his efforts, support and patience you realised that you wanted Jisung, you realised that your heart longed for him. 

During summer break he picked you up at the airport and asked you to be his girlfriend and you accepted gladly; you sealed the deal with a kiss full of affection, it was desperate in a way, you have yearned to feel his lips on yours once again. After that day you spend your summer by Jisung’s side, it was as if you were glued together. Wherever you went Jisung was following and vice versa. 

Two months have passed, your break is almost over, meaning that you would have to go back to school very soon. Jisung, knowing this, never left your side. He wanted to spend every single moment you had left home with you. 

“The summer went by so fast,” he said in a whisper while you were at the kitchen making a midnight snack; actually he was sitting while you were the one cooking, not letting him get near the kitchen since he would probably light it on fire. 

“I know,” you said while dicing some veggies for your ramen. “For the first time, I'm not as excited to go back.” 

“For the first time?” he asked confusedly while he stared at you. 

“Yeah, I don't love leaving home but I'm always really excited to go back, living on my own and having independence, you know?” He just nodded, not knowing exactly what to answer. “I know it may sound a little selfish but I always loved going back but now, it's so different.”

“Why?” 

“Because of you.” You both felt your cheeks warming up for the sudden confession. “I’m always excited to come back here and see my family, see Hyuck and my friends but ever since you confessed during new years I couldn't stop thinking about coming back home and seeing you.” Jisung stood up silently so he wouldn't interrupt you. “I wanted to hang out with you, spend time with you, see your cute face everyday, I was desperate to be with you.” You smiled while feeling his arms sneak around your waist, and you let out a soft giggle while feeling his face burning in your neck. “I yearned for you so fucking much.” He left a soft kiss on your neck, then your shoulder and your neck once again, he was drowning in your scent. 

“God, I fucking love you.” It was a whisper. It was innocent and said out of instinct, he didn't even realise what he just said until you left his side. 

“What!?” 

“Nothing.” He was ready to leave but your hand on his wrist stopped him. You made him face you.

“That was not nothing.” He didn't dare to look at you. “What did you just say Park Jisung?” Your tone was demanding and serious, not in an aggressive way but you wanted an answer. 

After a long pause he finally got the courage he needed to say those words again. 

“I said that I love you.” His voice was barely a whisper but because you were alone, you were able to hear him clearly. “You don't have to say anything, I know it's way too soon to say stuff like this since we've been in a relationship for just 2 months but I have loved you since before.” Because he's looking down he didn't realise you're coming closer to him. “I'm sorry if it freaked you out and I totally understand if you want to take some time apart, to be honest, I wouldn't blame you.” He let out a soft giggle which was full of embarrassment. “I'll just go…”

You stopped him once again and he finally looked up at you. You cupped his face with your hands and you kissed him.

You kissed him softly, slowly and it's intense because of the intimacy that you were sharing in that moment—you both felt like you were the only ones in the world and that time has stopped just for you. You feel like the moon and the stars are witnessing the scene with such endearment and they look down at you with the happiest of their smiles. You savoured him, you made sure to transmit all of your feelings with that kiss, you wanted him to feel safe, at ease, at home. You wanted him to feel like the only reason he was put on earth was for that moment alone, that he was meant to be by your side, just like you were meant to be by his. You engulfed him in your arms just like he did, you wanted him closer even though you couldn't be. You were desperate for him, and your heart felt like it was going to explode from all the love that you feel for this boy. 

You broke the kiss but you were still in his embrace and he was in yours; your foreheads were touching, both of you had your eyes closed, feeling each other's breaths in your faces, but neither of you seemed to mind. 

“I love you too,” your tone was sure and confident. You then opened your eyes to see his reaction. 

His eyes lit up and his smile was the biggest you have ever seen and if your vision isn't failing you, you think his eyes were watering. 

“Really?” His voice was soft, and it broke a little because of the knot in his throat. 

“Really.” You could see a little tear running down and you were quick to wipe it off with your thumb. 

“Shit, sorry.” He let out a nervous giggle while he wiped yet another tear. “I'm just really fucking happy.” You couldn't help but start tearing up as well. “No wait, don't cry.” He panicked and then cupped your cheeks in between his big hands. They were cold compared to your very warm face. 

“I can't help it, you know how I always cry whenever you do.” You sniffled and he laughed at you. You looked so adorable trying to hold in your tears. 

He wiped your tears with such delicacy, he then proceeded to put your hair behind your ears and then he left a soft kiss on your forehead so he could finally hug you; you buried your face in his chest and he rested his chin on the top of your head. 

“Just like when we were kids,” you let out and he laughed once again. 

“Just like when we were kids,” he repeated, voice full of adoration. 

Jisung has never been great with words but he somehow knew what to do to comfort you whenever you cried in front of him (which was very, very rare). He always started by wiping your tears away, he always did it in the softest way possible, as if you were made of glass; his fingers always felt cold against your skin but you never minded. He then helped you get your hair fixed, placing the stray strands where they belonged and then tugging some behind your ears to finally leave a little kiss on your forehead. He knew all of that was good but it wasn't enough so he would seal the deal with a hug. A hug that always felt so soft and warm, a hug that always felt familiar and comfortable, a hug that made you feel you belonged with him. You fitted in his embrace perfectly just like he fitted in yours. 

You were meant to be together. It was a bumpy ride, with its highs and lows but you were meant to be. Everyone knew it, even the moon who would always watch over you two, waiting patiently. Even the stars, who would always light up your path so you could find your way to each other.  

You stay like that for a while, enjoying the domestic moment, not wanting to let go until you hear the pot overflowing. 

“Shit, our food!” You broke the hug and turned to the stove.

You put the pot out of the fire and you turn the flame off. The food was ruined and the kitchen was a mess. 

“Man, and you said I was a terrible cook,” Jisung said with a mocking tone. 

“Oh, shut up,” you said annoyedly while you try to clean up your mess. “This is all your fault.” 

“My fault?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes! If you weren't being all romantic and sentimental our ramen wouldn't have died like this.”  

“I'm sorry for saying that I love my girlfriend, it won't happen again.” 

“Wait no, I want to hear it again.” You panicked by hearing him. “I want to hear it a million times.” 

“Oh good, because I was joking,” he said while helping you clean. “Now that I've said it, now that is finally out of my system, it's the only thing that I want to say to you.” 

“Good because it's the only thing that I want to hear.” 

You finished cleaning up and you're quick to put your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You left a kiss on his lips and started preparing the food again. 

After finishing cooking and eating together you cleaned everything once again to finally go back to your room and get some sleep. You wiggled your way back to your bed, got into position and waited for Jisung to lay down so you could finally get 100% comfortable. After waiting patiently for you, he then plopped down next to you, he pulled you closer and he buried his face in the space between your neck, he loved getting drunk in your scent. 

After getting into a position where the two of you were comfortable you were quick to fall asleep, you didn't even notice you forgot to close your window´s curtains, you were gonna regret that in the morning. 

The night sky was clear, the moonlight sneaked in your room giving you two the perfect glow. The moon smiled by seeing you together, she was proud to see you could finally find your way to each other. The stars were beaming even harder, they couldn't hide their happiness. They worked so hard for you and seeing you together made them shine even brighter, they were glowing. 

[neochan-ficrecs]

[spoilers under the cut!]

i love rockstar aus and you, my dear jing, have absolutely blown every single one i've ever read out of the water.

there isn't enough praise in the world to relay how i feel about this fic. how it made me sit for two days straight at work, wondering when i'll be able to read the rest. what the next scene was. when was i going to be able to eat the rest of it upp. bc you served. hard.

i think the best thing from this story was that it made me actually mad. hot and cold hyuck - not giving a single thing to the reader. everything had to be his choice. he doesn't want to take her viriginity, until he wants to. he doesn't want to have an ongoing thing with her, until it's his idea.

but what equally pisses me off is how pliant the reader becomes. how easily she gives in to whatever he wants. even when she's crying for days on end that he fucks other people. that he hurts her. that he hurts his friends.

and i know that hyucks personality is supposed to be an asshole with a semi-soft spot for the reader, but every time he calls her princess, every time theres a soft touch, it just felt so condescending. that he obviously has these rules set in place for himself, which he won't break. not even for the reader - someone who he can see being in his life for longer than two hours after a show. he's an asshole even in those soft moments because he's not giving his true self. like jeno said at the end, this is a carefully crafted extension of himself, and he's not gonna break it for anyone.

and that's why i love the fact that you're splitting it into two parts. maybe you'll give him more genuine soft moments, where he opens up parts of himself, but i think even keeping him in this asshole/condescending closed-off persona, will work. it's so true to the story. because haechan was like this long before he ever met the reader. so whats so special about her? what makes her want him to be genuine and open up.?

and referring back to the jeno scene at the end, i think it was brilliant. who knows more about haechan than a bandmate? someone who shares an apartment, a stage, and a lifestyle with him? and reader should listen. although i'm speculating that it's not the case and maybe reader was held up and couldn't go to the bar, or maybe she forgot or overslept or had to do something other than attend. because truly. there isn't a single part of the fic thus far that shows she is a free thinking individual. for example, she understood that if she left with haechan, she would hurt mark and jisung, yet she didn't feel bad until after she was in the car with haechan. she'll do anything for him, and nothing thus far shows the opposite. so no, i don't think jeno scared her into not coming. maybe he planted seeds of doubt, but the fact that she didn't bring it back up to haechan the moment she was told, proves that she won't tell him. so maybe she disappears, but i truly don't think that's what happened. and i can't wait to see if my theory holds up in part two...

but. i have to say jing, the way you craft haechan is absolutely perfect. the beginning scene where he's sitting on the side of the stage after the show, shows his boyish nature (loved that scene so much omg) and then we get his asshole side, his jealous side, his softish side, etc.

smut was hot, writing was phenomenal, characterization was a 10000/10. please give jisung SOMETHING. that boy deserved so much better. omg and when hyuck came out on stage, i literally said out loud "the girls are fighting" and my boyfriend looked at me like i was crazy. LMAO. and mark... i need to know if he has a girlfriend bc that question was never answered. and maybe theres a scene in part two where reader and his gf come in contact... idk.

anyway i've rambled on and theorized. i love this fic. i love your brain. keep up the great writing. i literally aspire to make a fic this well rounded. <333

signing off, sam

haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | part 1 of 2

wc: 22k (!!!!!!!) genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), fluff warnings: loss of virginity, very soft sex (hand-holding during sex), lots of kissing, protected sex, haechan fucks...a lot, fingering, oral (f receiving), very faint corruption kink, JEALOUSY, possessiveness (marking, signing on your body), handjob, car sex, cumplay, spit, exhibitionism (!), slight dumbification, slight degradation, titty-sucking etc, sweet aftercare a/n: i worked a lot on this and i really hope u like it.... i really hope it's hot... i hope u like rockstar haechan...please let me know what u think... (fic playlists)

he's been staring at you all night.

the bass thrums insistent in your chest, overriding your heartbeat, as you cling onto the barrier between the stage and the crowd. lights flash before your eyes, almost blinding you with how fast they blinked, and you can barely make out the faces of the boys onstage as they play their last song of the night. the air is damp, excitement riding high over the crowd in waves of endless screams that never seem to stop. 

and the boy on the far right, fingers moving deftly over the strings of his electric guitar, hasn't taken his eyes off you for the last five minutes. 

a sharp smile tugs at his lips, smokey makeup making his gaze ever more piercing as he looks down at you through his overgrown bangs, hairs at the nape of his neck unruly and wild. the lights throw the features of his face into high contrast, the tattoos curling on his neck and hip screaming for attention, as do the glint of jewelry scattered everywhere on his body. you feel smaller and smaller under his gaze, something lewd about the way he runs his tongue over his lips, eyes practically undressing you. he never seemed to stop moving his body as he played, bouncing on his toes or letting his body lean away from the sound, the music fuelling and becoming one with his movements as if he were a dancer.

as the music crashes and swells towards the end of his solo, his eyes slide over to yours with a practiced precision, as if he had memorized your position in the crowd. swaying his hips from side to side, his eyelids droop just slightly into a half-lidded stare, as he ruts his hips playfully against his guitar. 

the screams of the other fans are deafening, but you can hardly hear it over the rush of your heartbeat in your own ears.

haechan finally looks away, a small smile on his face as he signals to his bandmates towards the song's ending. you feel almost empty as the weight of his attention lifts off of you, pressing yourself up against the railing on tip-toe to try and catch his eye again before sinking down and feeling like an idiot. 

he was just doing fanservice for an audience member, nothing more. you try not to find his actions endearing as he slings his arm around the lead singer, mark, his surprisingly boyish laugh making your heart flutter in your chest as he waves towards his fans one more time. 

people are leaving the venue, the sounds of their excitement getting further and further away, but you stand there, reeling, clutching onto the metal barrier, sure that if you took your hands off it you would fall. finally, glancing up at the stage one last time, you're just about to leave to find your friend, the only reason you were even here, when –

"leaving so soon?" 

the boy is sitting on the stage right in front of you, leaning forward so you can see his face clearly. up close, he's even prettier than before, delicate almost doll-like legs wrapped under ripped skinny jeans, leading up to thick and toned thighs, his slender waist shadowed under his large leather jacket ridden with buckles and straps. without the bright stage lights, you can see the moles on his skin, tracing a dangerous path under the collar of his shirt. 

at your lack of response, he raises his eyebrows. "i asked if you were leaving, princess." 

"i have to find my friend," the words come out rushed. "um…jaemin? your band hired him tonight as the photographer." 

"i remember," he nods. "so…you're not a fan?" 

"no." he nods, silence filling the space between the both of you. you can see him start to formulate a goodbye, his heart-shaped lips parting, but you don't want the conversation to end, you don't want him to stop looking at you. "- but…i really enjoyed your show." 

he looks a little surprised, and a genuine smile spreads sweetly across his face. "why?" he challenges. 

"what?" 

"what did you like about our show?" his eyes glint, and you know he's teasing you. 

"the songs were good," you mumble. 

"yeah?" he licks his lips, a slight hint of nervousness showing on his face as he clears his throat. "who was your favorite member?" 

"huh?" 

"your favorite band member," he repeats, tilting his head to the side. "jeno, he's our drummer, mark's the lead singer, jisung plays bass and i…" he waves his hand absentmindedly towards his guitar, on the stand, still onstage behind him. "i'm haechan," he adds. 

if you wanted to get to know him, it wouldn't hurt to show a little of exactly how much you liked him, would it? "you were my favorite," you admit. "you…you have really good stage presence," you blurt out. 

"stage presence?" 

"yeah. when i'm in the crowd…i can't really pay attention to anything else. and you…" you swallow, heat burning up your cheeks, but the way his eyes were looking at you with curiosity making you finish your thought. "you make the audience feel like they want to please you." the unspoken truth, that you, as part of the audience, wanted to please him, hangs in the air. 

your embarrassment, at saying something so suggestive and raw, is quickly washed away by the smile tugging at the corner of his lip, a smirk that quickly spreads across his face into a grin. you're so mesmerized by it, that you're taken aback by the way he suddenly shifts, hopping down the stage lightly and standing in front of you. 

"princess," he says, softly, placing his hands on the railing next to yours so the sides of your fingers barely brush. "do you want to come to a party?" 

you resist the urge to immediately say yes. "what party?" 

"there's one after every show. jaemin will have been invited, he can take you." the venue has emptied out, even his bandmates have left the stage. and yet, his voice is pitched low as he leans in, body warmth radiating off of him, and you are so close, you can see the smudged eyeliner on his lower lash line, can make out the grey of his colored contact lenses. "you can find me there." 

"but…" you feel lost. "why can't you just take me?" 

"if we show up together, it'll seem a little like we're dating, no?" his voice is quiet, but firm. 

hurt and confusion blossoms in your chest. was it really that serious? keeping your voice as nonchalant as possible, you ask, "would that be so bad? for…for us to date?”

but you know it's the wrong thing to say. 

he exhales slowly, a brief look of pain flitting over his features. he hated doing this, hated reaching the point in conversations where rules and boundaries had to be discussed. nights where he found his girls at the party were the easiest, letting body language and long glances do the talking, as few strings attached as possible. 

but today he couldn't stop looking at you, in the front row, couldn't help sliding his eyes over and checking to see if you were watching him, a pleased thrum burning in his chest every time his gaze found yours. it seemed logical, to spend his time with you tonight. but if he'd known you'd felt like this, he never would have waited onstage. 

"what's your name, princess?" 

"y/n."

"y/n, i'm not making you my girlfriend," he states, bluntly. "i can't, and i don't want to. you can meet me at the party later, but we'll just fuck – nothing else." 

his words make you feel small, his tone harsh compared to his previous meandering way of speaking. even then, the thought of letting him walk away, to never see him again, to end this story on this moment, made you feel worse than anything.  

at the look on your face, he softens slightly. 

"i'm sorry if you thought this was going to be more," he says, quietly. "you don't have to do anything you don't want to." 

"i do," you correct him. frustrated, he sighs, and you rush to clarify. "i'll meet you at the party. just…nothing else." your end off hesitantly, unwilling to echo his crude words.

"are you sure?" you think you see his gaze darken, the tension suddenly heightening as he places one of his large hands over your own. his guitar-calloused fingertips are rough as they slide against the back of your hand, drawing shapes that burn into your skin like tattoos. you nod, but he shakes his head — slowly, sweetly patient. "i need to hear you say it," he murmurs, and the words go straight to your gut. 

"i'm sure." your voice comes out as a whisper, but he doesn't seem to mind. he leans in, and just when you think your lips are going to meet, your mouth parting expectantly, he tilts his head and kisses you softly on your cheek. 

"make sure no one sees you, princess," he murmurs, low in your ear, before straightening up. "don't make me wait too long, hm?" 

—

"did anyone follow you up here?" 

haechan sits with his legs hanging off the edge of the roof, arms slung over one of the lower rungs of the railing. he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes another drink from his bottle of red wine, knowing that you're hanging onto his every word. 

"no," you reply, voice barely louder than a whisper. you repeat yourself again, louder, hating the way your voice shakes with hesitance. "no, i don't think so." 

he exhales, shrugging off the leather jacket that hangs large over his frame, his shoulderblades moving under his white shirt, veiny arms pushing the bottle to the side as he shifts himself backwards fluidly so he's further away from the ledge, his long legs stretched out. 

"well?" and now he turns to look at you, dark eyes framed with makeup searching for yours, his gaze heavy. the piercing on his eyebrow glints in the moonlight, and when he leans his weight back on his hands, his shirt rides up so that you can see just the hint of a tattoo curling low on his hip. "are you ready?" 

feet unsteady, you shuffle over to him, standing over him as he watches you through hooded eyes. unsure, you start to sit down next to him, but a hand quickly reaches out to touch your knee, dragging his touch up the back of your thigh, the cold scrape of his rings on your skin feeling rough and claiming all at once. his lips part almost mockingly, commanding you without words to stop. 

he flicks his gaze down to his lap, eyes flickering back up to yours. eyebrows raised, as if in a challenge.

slowly, you lower yourself onto his lap, hands hesitantly grasping for his shoulders. his arms come to steady your waist, slipping under your shirt and touching bare skin, feeling the way your body shifts and moves. it's only because your body is pressed up against his, his hands are roaming up and down your thighs, that he notices something which makes him halt his movements, licking his lips. 

"you're shaking," he murmurs, now brushing the hair out of your eyes, tucking a strand behind your ear as he studies you, taking in the way you're all tensed up, the uncomfortable way your legs are folded, goosebumps erupting every time his fingertips brushed your skin, muscles trembling.

you swallow. "i've never done this before," you admit. 

his eyes widen, now removing his hands from you entirely, letting them fall. "you're a virgin?" 

you nod, heart pounding in your chest. he's looking away, his jaw set, his gaze hardened. did he hate that you had no experience? or would he enjoy that? "i can…" the words come out in a jumble, "you can teach me, i want… i want to-" 

"no." with surprising gentleness, he motions for you to move off his lap, and you follow his actions mindlessly, docile under his touch. 

"do you think i won't be good enough?" you ask, hating the way your voice comes out wounded and achy, hating how weak he made you. 

he pauses, tongue poking into the side of his cheek, and you think you can see a flash of something deep in his eyes. 

"y/n…i can't be your first time." 

"but i want –" 

"you need to be with someone who will take care of you." despite his words, his voice is cold, and clear. "i don't do that." he dusts off his jacket, shrugging it back on as he takes another drink from the bottle, eyes closed, unwilling to look at you for another second. "go home, y/n. i'll see you at the next show." 

you don't move. you kneel there, next to him, eyes desperately searching for his. 

"go home, y/n," he repeats, harshly. 

"i want to stay here," you bite back, stubbornly, hurt making your voice brittle. 

"then you'll have to watch me fuck someone else." lazily, he reaches into the pocket of his jacket for his phone, and you can see him scroll through his messages, faces and names blurring as you barely decipher him type out another message. his fingers moving across the keyboard, as the anonymous responder sends a series of heart emojis, eagerness palpable through the screen. he locks his phone, the click sound startling you out of your daze, and he puts his phone down on his lap, the action somehow mocking.

"so?" he's still not looking at you, staring straight ahead into the night. "do you want to watch?" 

and as you make your way down the stairs, shame burning at your neck and tears burning hot down your cheeks, you can swear you feel his eyes follow you all the way down. 

—

the feeling of embarrassment curdles in your stomach, and leaves a sour taste in your mouth every time you look in the mirror. it's what leads you to skip the next show, making an excuse to jaemin about 'having other plans'. and then the other, and then the other. and then it's been a week, and your friend has finally managed to drag you to one of their after-parties, pushing you through the door with a little too much enthusiasm. he knows something is bothering you, and he wants nothing more than to help take your mind off of it — but he has no idea that the something is currently leaning against the archway leading off into the living room, nursing a bottle of beer in his hands, and brushing his hands around some girl's waist in a way that made you feel sick. 

jaemin introduces you to mark, out on the balcony. mark is sweet, and friendly, a regular boy-next-door who happens to have face gems twinkling next to his eyes and leather pants tight around his thighs. he asks you about college, and work. he talks about the songs he's writing on his guitar. he catches your drink when you almost drop it over the railing, an easy smile on his face when his fingers brush yours passing it back to you, and a shy grin when he reaches out to lace his fingers with yours properly.

"i'm really busy, but i'd love to talk to you more," he says, sincerely, as he takes your phone from your hands to key in his number. he texts himself so his contact is at the top of your messages, making you promise to text him when you get back. he looks at you meaningfully, squeezing your hand before dropping it to go back to his party. 

there's a moment, where you think to follow. 

but then all of it – every touch, every glance, every speck of light you counted reflected in marks' wide eyes, — all of it is wiped clean the moment you hear a familiar low voice.

"trying to get with my friends now, princess?" 

when the light illuminates his silhouette, hurt registers before anything else. 

hickeys bloom across the side of haechan's neck, trailing down to his chest. only a simple mesh top lies underneath his leather jacket, and you can see the shadows of a few more bruises on his torso when his arm shifts, tugging the jacket open just slightly. his hair is a mess, tugged this way and that by desperate hands, and you think there may be a smear of bright pink lipstick at the corner of his lips. you can smell the reek of flowery perfume, cloyingly sweet, all over his clothes, as he leans back against the railing, eyes turned towards the party happening behind the sliding glass doors.

"i thought you said i was your favorite band member," he murmurs, a mock expression of sadness on his face. "mark's nothing like me." 

"why do you care?" you will yourself to sound more confident, letting the hurt dissolve into defiance. 

"i don't." the pout has melted off his face, a burning intensity now in the way he stares at you, making you shift uncomfortably. a moment passes, where he studies your face, eyes flicking across your features almost methodically. "so am i?" 

"what?" 

"am i still your favorite?" his voice is bitter, as if he knows the answer before asking and he doesn't like it. 

"are you seriously asking me that?" 

"princess –"

he's interrupted by a chime from your phone. the both of you glance down at it at the same time, the text and the sender unmistakeable on your otherwise empty lockscreen. 

mark <3 : thanks for talking to me today :) let me know when you get home safe! 

there's a pause. 

"mark has a girlfriend," haechan blurts out, his voice coarse. 

"what?" you look up at him, trying to figure out if this was a joke, but his face is impassive. 

"he cheats on her all the time with girls from his parties. it's his thing." haechan's still looking at your screen even though your phone has turned off, resolutely not meeting your eyes. 

it takes you a moment to gather yourself, every one of mark‘s actions and words suddenly flashing before you like a flipbook, sweet memories crumpling into dust. "are you lying?" you ask, shakily. 

"why would i?" he finishes his beer, veins shifting on the back of his hand as he crushes the empty can, the crunch of metal dissonant against the warm summer night. his next words are just as rough. "whether or not you get with mark means nothing to me. i don't care. i don't even know you." 

his words ring true, as he pushes off from the railing, leaving you alone on the balcony without another word. the abrupt end to the conversation has you turning, eyes following him as he steps back into the party, looking away a little too late as you see him gesture someone over with a flick of his fingers, her long hair covering both their faces when their lips meet. 

jaemin finds you crying on the balcony, but he can't figure out the reason. you delete mark's contact off your phone the moment you get home, and jaemin promises you he's never taking you to any other show or party with the band ever again. 

—

"there should be an empty room somewhere." the man lets go of your hand, at the foot of the stairs. "can you wait for me inside one? i'll find you in a minute." 

it's only when you're halfway upstairs, when you realise that you're really about to give yourself to a stranger for your first time. 

he has a bright smile, sweet dimples showing each time his lips turn upwards, each time he calls you baby. he's not much older than you, but there's an easy authority in the way he takes your cup from your hands and tells you to stop drinking, getting you glasses of water instead. his body dwarfs yours in size, and when you put your hand on his thigh, you see something shift in his expression that tells you he may not be as gentle as he seems. 

and when you tell him he'll be your first time, his throat bobs as he swallows, eyes dragging up and down your body with a newfound hunger. 

you've never really cared about who you lost your virginity to, not considering it a big occassion or anything to make a fuss over. your mind flits back to two weeks ago, when some boy had cared way more about it than you did. 

"you need to be with someone who will take care of you." 

anger flares in your chest at the thought of it, as you climb up the stairs two steps at a time, and it's just when you're just reaching the first landing, when you suddenly coming to a crashing halt because —

the sound of microphone feedback makes you put your hands over your ears, instinctively, the shrill sound piercing the air. 

a loud bass suddenly starts up, vibrating under your feet. did they hire a live band? the song that booms from downstairs is familiar, and with a jolt, you realise that you know it a little too well. 

that honey-sweet voice, the bitter bite to his words soothed over by the sweetest of tones – drifts up from the speaker, a haunting melody that echoes up the empty staircase, punctuated by a screaming crowd.

as if to further prove it was him, he lets out a laugh at the end of his line, the tone of it dark and sarcastic, the crowd going wild at the sound of it. 

was it a studio recording? it must be, because there was no way this band was downstairs, performing live at this random birthday party, there was no chance…

… except now mark is speaking into the microphone, greeting the audience, asking for the birthday girl. unease stirs in your stomach as you trace your steps back down, a dread that fills you up as the makeshift stage comes back into view, where the DJ had been just a moment ago. 

to where haechan stood, guitar on its stand, eyes already trained on yours, an expression of white hot anger on his face. 

—

"him? really?" 

you can still feel his touch on your arm, from how he dragged you into the bedroom. 

you're frozen on the steps. 

haechan signals to mark, ignoring the questioning looks from the members and protests from the boy as he steps off the platform, making a beeline for the stairs. his brows are furrowed, his teeth gritted as he glares at you. 

"you wanna go upstairs that bad?" he murmurs. "lead the fucking way, princess." 

he starts towards you, and you take a step back, body colliding with the door. the sound seems to ground him, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm down, finally turning away to sit on the bed, the space allowing you to relax just slightly.

"i thought," he starts, patiently, swallowing hard. "i thought i told you to find someone to take care of you, for your first time."  

the reminder of his words feels like a stab in your chest. "i thought you didn't care," you shoot back. 

he ignores you. "did you come here with your friends? where's jaemin?" 

what the fuck was wrong with him? "who are you to tell me what to do?" 

his lips part, but no words come out. sighing, he rubs his face with his hands, still trying to calm down. "y/n," he starts again, voice pained. "i don't want to see you get hurt."

"how do you know he would've hurt me?" 

his eyes meet yours. "did you tell him?" he asks, quietly. 

"tell him i was a virgin? yes." anger seeps into your tone, as you glare at him. "he reacted very differently from you." 

"y/n that's not a good thing!" he stands up, his voice raised. "are you that desperate to get fucked?" 

you step back in alarm, tears forming in your eyes. fear, of the situation you almost put yourself in, of the boy in front of you, makes your throat close up, and you can't help the way your body tenses. the cruelness of his words settles in a little too late, an acidic burn in your chest. 

haechan feels the tips of his fingers go numb as you start to cry, guilt flooding his mind in a way he rarely felt. his face crumples, and he does't know what to do when you curl in on yourself, every sound you make feeling like a punch to his ribs.

"i'm sorry," he whispers, reaching for you tentatively. when you don't pull away, his arms circle around you, and he makes sure to leave enough space for you to breathe or break free if you wanted to. "i'm sorry," he repeats again, as you sink into his chest, needing his warmth as much as you hated his presence. 

"take it back," you mumble. "take it back right now."

"i take it back," he says, immediately. "i didn't mean any of it. i'm sorry." 

"you don't get to reject me," you start, voice shaky, "and control who i choose to be with."

he sucks in a breath, gripping onto you a little tighter. "y/n –" 

"it's…it's fucked up," you hiccup, fisting at the fabric of his shirt, crumpling it in your fists in frustration.

"i know," he breathes. "i know." 

his hand comes up to stroke your hair, and you hate how it really does manage to comfort you, your breaths steadying as he pats your back clumsily. when you think you've calmed down enough, you place your hands on his chest, and he backs away instinctively, looking down at his feet. never meeting your eyes.

"i'm tired, haechan," you whisper. "i don't want to play whatever game you're playing." he doesn't respond, so you continue. "you don't want to fuck me, but you don't want anyone else to." 

"i do." his response is so quiet, you barely catch it.

"you want other people to fuck me?" 

"no, i don't." he lifts his head, his expression conflicted. "i…i want to be your first time." 

"what?" 

when he doesn't respond, you sigh, agitated. "haechan, i already told you i don't want to play your games anymore –" 

"not a game," he cuts you off, softly. "i'll take care of you." the gentleness of his voice makes you feel small. it's almost overwhelming, the way he looks into your eyes, without his usual apathy and bitterness. 

"i thought you said you don't do that?" it takes you all your willpower to not give in. 

"i don't," he breathes. "but with you i will." he's starting to think he has no choice – that there's no one else in the world who's going to take care of you the way he knows you need. he doesn't know when he decided to give in, in between watching you place your hand on that man's thigh, and you standing in front of him now. all he knows is that he either had to do this, or make you disappear from his life entirely. 

the words hang in the air. even now, feeling so torn and hurt and tired, your body can't help how much you want him, hyper-attuned to the little details in his appearance: the messy black nail polish scrawled on his nails, smoky eye make-up that makes his gaze all the more intense and devouring. there's a heady smell hanging onto his skin and clothes, rich and indulgent vanilla and musk, filling up your senses with a giddy desire. long legs in a pair of ripped skinny jeans, his thighs stretching out the fabric in a way that almost looked like it hurt. 

"okay," you mumble. his lips part, but you answer him before he has a chance to ask. "please take care of me." your voice is small, yet each word seems to catch fire, incinerating the air between you. 

his tongue darts out, wetting his lip. "yeah?" 

you nod. finally giving in to the pull of your body, you take a step closer, looking up at him through your lashes. 

"i'm sorry…about all of it." he murmurs. "thank you for trusting me, still." 

you can't think of anything to say, so you nod again. it feels like your heart is in your throat. 

he swallows. "do you…you shouldn't…" his eyes dart around the room. "we shouldn't do it here. in…in some strangers bedroom." gently, he touches your arm, looking at you hesitantly. "would you feel comfortable if we did it in your apartment? or i could bring you to my shared apartment with the band…they wouldn't be back yet. but we might have to be quick…"

your head feels like it's spinning. 

at your lack of response, he rambles on, eyes focused on yours, trying to discern your thoughts. "w-what do you think? or…if you really want to get comfortable i don't mind booking a hotel, it's a little last minute but-" he bites his lip. "do you want to meet somewhere else or i could take you in my car? i haven't drank much, i swear, but if you don't trust me-" 

"stop," you blurt out. 

he freezes, the hand grazing your arm dropping to his side, fingers playing with the rips in his jeans. 

"i'm sorry," he says, softly.

"no, i mean…stop asking me questions." you exhale. "i trust you," you repeat, softly. every word of it was true — despite everything, you were still the same person sitting on his lap up on the rooftop. "just…take care of me, however you want." 

he swallows. "you sound…" exhaling, he shakes his head to clear it. "okay. is your apartment empty?" 

"yes," you whisper. "jaemin's away for tonight." 

"i'll drive," he murmurs. and now he takes a step closer to you, until he's all you can see, the room melting away. "but before that…can i kiss you first, princess?" you nod, transfixed by him, as he leans in. 

haechan kisses soft. 

his lips are plush, and soft, taking your bottom lip between his own sweetly. he tilts his head slowly as if he's afraid he'll overwhelm you by moving too fast, his lips parting as he invites you to do the same, his hands going to the back of your head to guide you. a soft sigh escapes the back of his throat when your lips part and he can taste you, and you can taste him — vanilla like how he smells, with the slight bite of alcohol. your hand comes up to touch his round cheeks, surprisingly soft too, and he smiles into this kiss. 

he's the one to break apart from you, with a patience that feels rehearsed. he's taking care of you, as he leans in so your noses brush, your breaths mingling. 

"haechan…" he hums, encouragingly. "i…you know this isn't…my first kiss, right?" 

a pause. "i know," he murmurs. 

"so… so you don't have to be gentle." you squirm slightly as his touch grows heavier, eyes darkening at the implications behind your words. 

he backs away from you, hands pulling you with him as he sits down on the bed. his eyes flick down to his lap as he lowers his gaze, before dragging them painstakingly up to yours again. 

"sit, princess." 

this time, when he feels you tremble against him, your knees caging in his hips as you straddle him, all he does is lean in and kiss you — just as sweet as he did the first time. 

"i'm gentle with you because i want to be," another kiss, his tongue sliding against your bottom lip. "not because i have to." his fingers guide your chin upwards, baring your neck to him as he leans in and leaves a kiss on a spot under your jaw. and then a longer, more lingering kiss. and now he's making his way down your neck, each press of his lips on your skin longer and rougher than the last, and now you're sure he's sucking marks onto your neck, especially when you feel a slight sting of teeth. 

you're shifting against him restlessly, body hardly your own as you fall under his touch. you don't know how long you spend there, in his lap, as he works on your neck, taking breaks to kiss you on the lips, his sighs echoing into the cavern of your mouth as it falls open with need. it's when he sucks lightly on your tongue, almost boyish in the way he backs away with a small smile, when a soft sound escapes your lips. 

"yeah?" he murmurs, leaning in again, letting the tip of his tongue brush against yours gently. "you like that?" 

you nod. 

"you sound so pretty," he breathes, as he slots his lips with yours again, humming against yours as you let out another small whimper. 

"haechan-" you mumble, and he draws away, looking at you expectantly. "i think i'm ready." 

"really?" his hands on your waist give you a light squeeze. "you want me to take you home now?" 

you're still giddy from the heat radiating off his skin, your lips craving his contact again now he's stopped kissing you. you nod, and he smiles, gently guiding you off his lap as he unlocks the door. 

he's gentle the whole way down – as he leads you away from the main staircase so you wouldn't be seen, the crowd still distracted by the band. he cradles you carefully against his side all the way out of the back gates and into his car, and when your breath catches as he leans over to buckle your seatbelt for you, he's gentle even as he presses into you for a spur of the moment kiss, tongue licking into your mouth with more fervor. 

it's not a song that plays in the car as he drives and you try to remember the way to your apartment, but rather it's a low and sultry beat — bluesy harmonies stretched out over pulses. part of you wonders if he played it on purpose, because imagining his voice set against it already had you melting against the leather seats.

it would all be rather sweet – how gentle he's being, the soft way he smiles at you in the dim lights of your lift lobby, the way he holds your hand and lets you lean against him as you head higher and higher, the space around you feeling like a vacuum of trapped adrenaline and lust. 

but there was also no denying the fact that he jolted at the slightest sound, his grip on you tight and slack all at once, the tenderness in his eyes here one second and gone the next. a hurt you could almost taste on your tongue, that you were holding onto something so fragile, and that to him it seemed the worst thing that could happen would be if he were found with you.

—

but all of it changes, when you're alone in your room. the weight of his attention, that you'd felt even as one person amidst a screaming crowd, seems to intensify tenfold as he lets his jacket slide to the floor, eyes on you. 

he reads the apprehension in your body, the way you hover near your bed, waiting for him to guide you. 

"let me know if it's too much, okay?" he murmurs, as he pulls you in for a hug first, feeling you warm against him as you cling on to his embrace. "you can tell me to stop whenever, and i will." his hands rub circles up your waist, teasing on the silver of skin between your top and your skirt. 

you nod, but he shakes his head – a thumb brushing across your cheek. 

"use your words," he murmurs. "so i know you mean it." 

"okay," you breathe, now guiding him to the bed yourself, curiosity getting the better of you. you had almost forgotten, in the midst of everything, why exactly you went to the party, and the familiar need sparks back to life in you. 

haechan sits down against the headboard, pulling you into his lap, the movement feeling even more natural now. he can see that you're nervous and eager at the same time, hands fumbling with the soft material of his shirt, unsure what to do as you shift around on top of him. 

"can i kiss you?" in the soft lamp light of the room, the sharp-cut edges of his face seem to blur, large doe-eyes looking up at you kindly. it makes you want to lean in, so you do — slotting your lips with his boldly, kissing him the way you wanted from him. it surprises him, the way you press your lips against him harshly, the gentle graze of your teeth against his plush lip. 

he lets out a small laugh, and kisses you back just as fiercely, the atmosphere in the room melting as temperature skyrockets, until it's almost unbearable to be separated from you by layers of fabric. 

"may i-" he mumbles, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, and when your voice chokes out an affirmative, he's quick to yank it over his head, movements rough, exposing beautiful skin, his body warm and solid under your palms as you lean into him. 

your cheeks warm, and he notices – a small smile on his face as his hands cup your cheeks, and he gives you a sweet kiss, abruptly different from the others. suddenly, it's almost too tender, the way he looks up at you with endearment in his eyes, kissing you chastely, and you sink into it a little guiltily, enjoying the innocence of it. 

when you feel your heart reach its boiling point, your own hands go to the hem of your shirt, and you pull it over your head. you don't mean to slow down your movements, not meaning to tease or entice, but the way his eyes darken looking at your body made you wish you did it on purpose. 

"pretty," he praises, head dipping to press a kiss between your collarbones. and another one, lower done, almost reaching your cleavage. the bra you had chosen mindlessly that morning was a thin bralette, and it did little to hide how aroused you were, your nipples poking stiff peaks through the fabric. 

but still, he doesn't make any move to remove it, peppering kisses on your bare chest, over the slope of your breasts, almost slobbering at your skin, lips dewy and wet. his arms are firm around you, meeting each one of your movements and steadying you, helping you rock your hips into him as desire surges in your body. 

"haechan, –" his name had never sounded so breathless falling from your lips.   

"yes, baby?" 

the term of endearment makes you feel smaller in his lap, the only thing making you feel better was the way he was just as heated as you, his breaths coming hard and fast. he wanted everything to be perfect, he never wanted to rush you into anything you weren't comfortable with, his hands staying firm on your lower back. 

you tug at the bralette covering your chest impatiently, the fabric never feeling more uncomfortable on your skin. 

"you want me to take it off?" he asks, head nuzzling into your neck as his fingers wander up your back. you feel it loosen around you, his finger expertly fiddling the clasp open, dragging it down and accidentally brushing against your hard nipples, making you hiss.

"i'll make you feel good," he promises, softly, lowering his head, kissing down the slope of your breasts. he makes eye contact with you, searching your eyes for any form of discomfort.

"be gentle," you murmur, nodding for him to continue. "they feel sensitive." 

"of course," he mumbles, before starting to lightly kitten-lick at your nipple, the feeling all at once new and arousing, making you pulse against him in his lap. he circles his tongue around your areola, being as gentle as possible, opting not to flick at your nipples but rather suck one into his mouth, heart-shaped full lips sinful against your chest. the heat between your legs is overwhelming, as he switches to your other side, his hand coming up to knead your breast, warm palms moving over skin and making you giddy. 

"please," you whimper, as he laps at you. "please, i need you, please –" 

"you have me," he murmurs, one of his hands reaching out for yours blindly, scrabbling against the back of your hand from where it's pressed against his chest, flipping it over and interlocking your fingers. "i'll take care of you. lie down for me?"

he moves you off his lap, guiding you onto your back, propping up pillows you can rest against. the familiar feeling of your bed is only faintly there, your senses filled with the sweet heady smell of haechan, from the perfume and lotion clinging onto his skin, as you watch him remove the numerous rings on his fingers, placing them carefully on your bedside table. 

haechan kisses his way down your body, suckling on your skin, leaving longer, lingering bruises on your hips, finally reaching your thighs as he lowers himself down. he guides your hips up with a heavy hand, sliding a cushion carefully under as he situates himself between your legs. you're so sensitive, that the feeling of his long hair against your skin has your thighs sliding together, squeezing around his head accidentally. 

"you okay?" he murmurs, as he kisses your thighs again, patiently easing your thighs open. 

you suddenly feel shy, knowing he was about to see you so intimately. even when you had agreed to let him take care of you, even as you trusted him completely, you had never imagined seeing him in between your spread legs like this, somewhere you hadn't even explored much yourself. would he be disappointed or disgusted? what if he didn't like what he saw or felt? 

"baby…." he rubs a hand carefully on your thigh, tips of his fingers slipping just under the hem of your skirt. "is this okay? do you want to stop?" 

"i don't want to stop," you admit, and you find that its true. 

haechan looks at you, studying your face. after a moment, he crawls back up your body, brushing the hair out of your eyes before he brushes his lips against yours softly, as if asking for permission. you grant it, lips parting as his warm mouth meets yours, a welcome taste in your mouth that's become familiar. you kiss for a while, his hand finding yours in the mess of sheets and intertwining your fingers, until you feel confident enough to slip your other hand to the zipper of your skirt. 

you tug it off your legs, haechan breaking away from the kiss to help you, moving down your body. 

"i'll take care of you," he whispers, his hand never letting go of yours. "these are so pretty, baby," he whispers, a finger tracing over the lacy pattern on the front of your panties. you've never been more aware of your own arousal seeping out of you, as he places a kiss low on your hip, and then another just on the waistband of your panties, and suddenly, you want nothing more than for them to come off. 

your fingers tug at them impatiently, and he takes hold of your hand, kissing your fingertips lightly. "let me," he murmurs, and you hear something low and raw in his voice, something that maybe wasn't there before. sitting up slightly, he pulls your panties down your legs, assuming his position as quickly as he'd left it once the fabric was out of the way, rearranging your legs so they're spread open for him. 

the tension in the room fills your lungs up like smoke. you barely mumble his name, beg him to do something, before you feel a soft touch against your clit, making your hips jolt and you let out a sharp exhale. 

"let me hear you," he encourages, gently, as he starts to rub circles into your sensitive nub, dipping down to your entrance and spreading your wetness all over your cunt. your hips keep shifting around, so he pulls his arm around to press down into you, keeping you still for him as he slowly pleasures you.

"t-this feels…" you start, lost in your own head. you've touched yourself before, but the sensitivity seemed to be heightened to an exaggerated amount once it was someone else touching you. he looks up at you, face still wickedly beautiful, the gentlest look in his eyes laced with something like desperation.

"can't believe i got so lucky," he murmurs, suckling a kiss close to your heat, high on the soft skin of your thigh. your legs clamp around his head, and it makes him groan, breath heavy against your cunt. "you're pretty everywhere, baby. can't believe i'm the only one." 

the words flood your veins with a dark thrill, the idea of being his, of him taking all your firsts. "hypocrite," you mumble, cutting yourself off with a moan as he applies more pressure to your clit. 

"maybe a little," he admits, shyly, as he dips his head back down and flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue, his fingers sliding down to your entrance instead. 

you cry out at the foreign feeling, the wet muscle of his tongue stroking your clit expertly while his slender finger slips past your entrance. his name, strung along by curses, echoes from your mouth as he teases his finger in and out of your entrance, tongue lying flat and wide as he laps at your clit in a way that made you feel like you were already close. 

stiffening his tongue, his flicks your clit with the tip, humming into you just as he curls his finger against your walls in a come-hither motion. he knows when you cum — back arching as you seemed to chase for stimulation above you, your walls sucking tightly around his finger and kneading it eagerly, making him groan as he imagines the feeling of you tight around his cock. he lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, his nose bumping your clit and eliciting another drawn out whimper, tongue teasing your entrance. 

when your hands push at his head, he backs away easily, once again making his way up your body to check on you, the warmth of his bare chest against yours making you feel safe. 

"good?" he kisses you, tongue moving against yours, inviting you to take a taste. "did you like that, sweetheart?" 

you nod, gasping. "haechan…"

"you did perfect for me, baby." his hands run up and down your sides as he kisses down your neck, enjoying the way your body wraps yourself around him, arms pulling his weight down into you. 

"i still need you," you murmur. the pleasure from before had only satiated you for a little bit, and the feeling of his hard length poking at your thigh was making your head spin with a whole different level of desire, as you grapple for his belt. "please, i've been good-" 

"you're perfect." he comforts you with a kiss. 

he guides your hand away from him gently, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants slide onto the bed as you lie back down on your pillows. tugging his underwear down, you swallow as he squeezes his thick length, the pink tip leaking clear liquid. he watches you watch him spread it on his length, pumping himself slowly, drawing out the pleasure as he moans, a sweet tenor sound that rings lewdly in the air. you watch, mesmerized, as he thrusts his hips forward a few times, stroking himself with a slight twist of his wrist before letting go abruptly, letting his cock slap up against his lower stomach. 

fishing around in the pocket of his discarded jeans, he takes out a condom wrapper, opening it quickly and rolling it onto his cock. you're sure you're making a mess of the sheets, you can feel your arousal and his saliva on your thighs, can feel another gush of wetness seep out of you as he lowers himself over your body and slides his cock against your folds. 

he grinds himself on you, hoping to get you wetter so it may be less painful when he enters you. his fingers find your clit again, this time he rubs it urgently, with just the correct amount of pressure to have you shaking and lifting your hips into him. 

"stop me anytime," he reminds you, as he lines himself up to your fluttering entrance. "you have to relax for me, baby." he pitches his voice lower now, and you can't tell if he's comforting you or if he's slowly being pulled under by lust too. he makes soft shushing noises, nipping at your lips with gentle kisses as you whimper, feeling the bulbous tip of his cock slowly stretch you open, his fingers resuming his movements. the head of his cock still feels shallow inside you, when it suddenly brushes against a sensitive spot, and his fingers on your clit glide just right, making you cum, hard. he feels you clamp down tightly around his tip, and he hisses, eyes squeezed shut. his mind wiped clean for just a second as pleasure thrums through his entire body, an aching pain that makes his mouth hang open.

"'m sorry," you whimper, tears prickling to your eyes as you interpret his expression as annoyance. "i'm so sorry, it just felt so good —" 

"baby…" he looks at you, his face morphing into panic when he sees the tears in your eyes. "don't apologise, please, you have nothing to be sorry for." 

you still look unconvinced, so he reaches for one of your hands, holding it in his and kissing your fingertips. "you are so pretty when you cum," the filthy words sound sacred the way he says them. "and you felt so fucking good around my cock," he murmurs, voice sinking low again.

you begin to relax again, sniffling slightly as you adjust your legs around his waist, feeling him slide a little deeper into you. he coaxes you into taking more of him, kissing you sweetly as he slips in further and further, until finally the both of you are groaning, his body shuddering slightly against yours as he feels your warm gummy walls tight around him. 

"so tight," he groans, cursing again under his breath as he circles his hips, drawing a moan from you as your thighs tense. "how are you so tight?," he panted, tone still teasing despite him trying desperately not to buck his hips into you. "has no one ever fucked you before or something?" 

you don't have it within you to tease back. 

"only you, haechan." the words are reverent, hushed. it strips him of any of his cockiness, his teasing, his boldness — his features softening at the way you look up at him, trying to maintain eye contact even as the ache between your legs drove you insane, not wanting to waste a single moment of this, in case it never happened again. 

"haechan…" your nails rake against his back, drawing him out of his daze. "please fuck me." 

"fuck," he breathes, as he slowly starts to move in you, obsessed with the way the words sound in your voice. his thick length drags against your walls, heavy inside you, the wet sounds of your arousal seeping into the room. you feel full and stretched out, sated by having him so close to you, it feels like you can feel him deep in your gut the way he's thrusting into you, especially when he hikes your legs higher on his waist, drawing a long moan from you as he manages to stimulate a spot inside you that has you seeing stars. 

he changes his pace, now barely pulling himself out of you as he nudges the head of his cock against your sweet spot. licking a long stripe from your neck up to your ear, one hand tangles itself with yours, while the other ghosts over your sensitive nipples. 

"i'm cumming," the words come out rushed as you barely hold onto your senses, cumming harshly for the third time, your body thrown into pleasure as your muscles tense. he succumbs to the feeling of your walls kneading his length and squeezing tight around him, eyes going unfocused and hazy as his lips part, a moan drawn out from his lungs without conscious thought. he's aware of the way your muscles tense as he fucks both of you through your highs, relishing in the sting of your fingernails on his back as he slows down his movements. he draws out both your highs by leaning in and sucking on the mark he'd left behind earlier that evening, letting his moan buzz and fizzle on your skin. 

you feel dazed and tired, arms never letting go of him, legs unwilling to unwrap from his waist as you cling to him. he rolls you both onto your sides, caressing your body sweetly and stroking your hair, mumbling questions and concerns that you can't register, nodding to everything in a blur. the weight of him feels good, his body warm and solid against your back, and once again that feeling of safety, that feeling of complete trust, washes over you. it makes you feel whole even as he pulls out of you with a wince, discarding the condom in the trash by your bedside. 

you cling to him, and he knows you need it — so he doesn't let you go, heavy hands patting your back clumsily, slightly rough and out of rhythm, just like the way your heart beats against your ribcage.

when he feels your arms loosen, relaxing finally after the high of hormones and adrenaline, he slips away quickly to the bathroom, putting on his underwear as he goes. he grabs a towel, turning your tap on to warm water and checking the temperature with his wrist as he washes his hands, his face, cleaning himself up. running the towel under the water and squeezing it dry in the sink. his movements methodical, as he slips out of your room and into the kitchen, looking around for a glass of water. 

he immediately races back the moment he hears a sound from your bedroom, shutting the door behind him just as you sit up, your expression clearing once you see him again. pulling his shirt from where it's discarded on the floor, he slides into bed, kissing you on the cheek. 

he cleans you up with soft strokes, the warm towel soothing on your skin even though he hadn't really been rough. he makes you drink from the glass of water, watching you drain it carefully. finally, slipping his large shirt over your frame, swallowing at the way it envelopes your body, a feeling stirring in his gut that he ignores. 

"y/n? are you with me?" when you don't respond, wide eyes looking up at him, he touches his fingers to your cheek. "baby?" 

each brush of his skin against yours felt like trails of fire, lingering warmth even after he pulls away. every look he gave you through his lashes, the slight pout to his lips when he broke away from a kiss, made you feel like you were caught in a riptide, your pulse out of your control. you wanted to crawl into him and make a home in his chest. you never wanted him to look at you again with his shuttered eyes, to have to dream yourself into the skin of someone else as he touched them. 

you had to tell him. "haechan…haechan i…" you reach for him, and he pulls you into his embrace, shushing you softly. you try to speak again, lips parting, but he envelopes your lips in a gentle kiss, nipping at your mouth each time you part, swallowing all your sounds with the sweep of his tongue. 

"princess…" his voice sounds raw, and coarse. "don't say anything you don't mean." 

"but-" 

"you don't know me." was it regret in his voice, or your wishful thinking? "you don't know me at all. what you're feeling right now…" he touches a hand to your chest, brushing a kiss on your cheek. "it's because of the sex, alright?" 

you shake your head. 

your next words come out slurred, your eyelids starting to droop as sleep begins to tug at your mind, threatening to pull you under. "but…why can't i know you?"  

he takes a deep breath. "i don't want you to."

"but i don't want this to end." 

he holds you tighter against his chest at your words. 

"this?" he questions, quietly. he keeps his voice light, but it still pierces your heart like a shard of glass. "there isn't a 'this' princess. this isn't happening again." 

"why?" 

"i don't want you to get attached." he cradles you even more carefully against him, freckling mellow kisses onto your forehead, the contrast between his words and his actions ringing dissonant in your ears. "besides… why would i spend the night with the same girl twice, hm?"

sleep softens the hurt from the words he's saying. his voice fades slightly, his touch against your skin roaring ever louder in your ears. "you know i won't be here when you wake up, right?" his fingers brush against your forehead lightly, pushing hair away from your eyes. 

you knew. 

but you still cried in the morning all the same — the golden-orange sunrise beautiful and terribly cruel, just like the boy you were perhaps falling in love with. 

—

you spend the weekend alone. 

you spend the weekend wondering if haechan thought of you at all, after he left. thinking if what he said was real, and it was just adrenaline and lust, then why did your heart ache at the thought of him? at his face on posters outside the small concert venue, inviting you to a show next week? why did you always turn at the slightest hint of his voice? 

you try to forget him. you try to tell yourself he wasn't worth it. but deep down all of it, a part of you still hopes, which is perhaps why you were letting jaemin drag you past the poster of haechan, into the alleyway that led backstage.

"are you sure you need me there?" you pull at jaemin's sleeve, your other hand holding onto his spare camera carefully as he guides you into the venue.  

"i do," he insists, pushing through a set of doors leading to the stage. "mark wants extra photos for their social media page and i can't be doing all of that at once." 

you can hear the boys talking just around one of the curtains, sprawled out onstage, a cacophany of sounds as they absentmindedly plucked at their instruments. you were going to see haechan again. you can't tell if it makes you want to run towards them, or go back home. that familiar sense of hope, the kind you experienced in the crowd that first night, on the balcony, in the bedroom and in the moonlight, fills you up slowly, sweet and light. maybe, if he just saw you again…

"y/n-" jaemin puts a hand on your arm, stopping you gently before you could rush onto stage. 

"yes?" you prompt. 

"i know i dragged you here, but if you're feeling uncomfortable," he starts, and you start to slip away, but he only tightens his grip. "let me finish — if you're feeling uncomfortable, or if any of them are hurting you, let me know okay?" 

you hadn't told him about haechan, something close to shame seeming to rise up and choke you whenever you tried to bring it up. all jaemin knew was that the last two times you had come into contact with the band it had upset you badly, and as your best friend and roommate he never wanted to see you crying on the balcony again. 

"what would you do? beat them up?" 

"i would leave." his serious tone doesn't change, unaffected by your attempt to lighten the mood. 

"but the money –" 

"no job is more important than you being okay," he insists. "i don't want to work for them if they hurt you. okay?" 

"okay." 

even though he looks unconvinced, his grip on your arm loosens and he takes your hand instead, pulling back the curtain with his other. 

you can hear him say something to mark about today's shoot, hear him greet the rest of the members. you guess that mark is rising to greet him, hear something like jisung and jeno standing too, but everything fades to white noise when the sight you're looking at clicks in your mind, the one member of the band who's voice you hadn't heard, who hadn't bothered to turn around at jaemin's arrival.

or rather, the one boy who was too pre-occupied to — considering he had his tongue in a pretty girl's mouth. 

haechan was facing away from you, away from the rest of his bandmates, you could really only see his broad back under his denim jacket, but the careful tilt of his head as he kissed her was all too familiar, as was the movement of his arms around her waist. and when she shifted in his lap, his hands pulling her hips down unto his, you can feel your heartbeat in your ears, a sharp pain searing at your chest in emotions you couldn't pinpoint. 

"fuck, sorry about that –" mark's voice is flustered, and now a tall boy, the bassist, jisung, is stepping in front of you, blocking your view of him. 

"sorry," he echoes, and you're momentarily caught off guard by how deep his voice is - husky and quiet. you blink up at him, fog slowly clearing in your mind, and he smiles shyly. "he doesn't usually do that." 

"who?" 

"um, haechan…" he looks back briefly, and you see haechan helping the girl to her feet, her body crumpled into his like she couldn't bear to be separated from his touch. you feel a wave of second-hand shame again – was that what you had looked like? 

and then jisung turns back to you, towering over you again and blocking everything from view. "he usually only does this after the show, but today…" 

"it's fine," you say, faintly. 

jisung looks at you, carefully. "you're jaemin's friend y/n, right?" 

you nod, half your mind still on what could be going on right now. behind jisung, you see mark pull haechan, now alone, towards a corner of the stage, whispering angrily at him. haechan is slouched lazily, picking at his nails with all the look of someone who couldn't care less about what was going on. 

"i saw you at our last show," jisung continues. "i was going to…i was going…" he breaks off, a little embarrassed, fumbling with his words. "are you sure you're okay?" 

"i'm fine, jisung." you repeat, your voice a little more firm, as you finally look back at him.

he blinks. "you know me?" 

jisung still looked worried, but there was something sweet about the way he shrunk a little under your attention, eyes darting all over your face and around his surroundings, blush tinging his cheeks.

this you were comfortable with – something completely different from the way haechan's eyes always tried to drink you in, or the way your vision would go blurry at the edges when he would stand in front of you. talking with jisung was easy, the confidence that haechan drained from you seeping back and settling in. 

he had meant it, when he said you shouldn't get attached. you just had to learn it before it brought you more hurt you couldn't justify.

"jisung," you emphasise. "of course i know you. you play bass, right?" 

"y-yeah," he stammers, pointing unecessarily at his dark blue bass guitar on its stand. "i don't know, i guess i always thought people didn't really know me even if they knew the band." he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, black hair falling over his eyes. "people usually choose to stand where haechan or mark are." 

"you usually stand on the left?" 

he nods, bashfully, and a smile tugs at your lips. 

"i'll make sure to stand there, later during the show." 

"wow, okay." he pauses for a moment, steeling himself. "how about after?" 

"what do you mean?" 

"would you want to meet…after the show?" he hesitates, voice soft. 

your brow furrows slightly. "do you mean the party?" 

"we don't have to go," he blurts out. "i don't mean…i don't mean like what haechan usually does after the show."  

his name is an unwelcome sting, but the way jisung sneaks glances up at you from where he looks down at his feet makes it a little easier to forget. "then what do you want to do?" 

"w-we can get something to eat." he says it like he just suggested robbing a bank. 

oh. "like a date?" 

mortified, his lips part, and you can tell that he's frantically trying to read your tone, trying to figure out if the idea of it made you uncomfortable, whether you were suggesting because you wanted it. it's so endearing, watching him start his sentences and stop them, the hem of his shirt crumpled and worn out by his nervous fingers. 

eventually, he takes a deep breath, and settles for a question. "d-do you mind if it's a date?" 

did you? 

was there any hope in waiting for haechan, when he had made it so clear that you would never have him again?

jisung is still looking at you like you have all the power in the world to hurt him. 

"i don't mind," you say, softly, feeling a hum of satisfaction in your chest at the way it makes his lips part in blissful surprise. a beat. "do you want it to be…?" 

"yes," he blurts out. "please," he adds, shyly. 

the awkward silence between the two of you feels good, the lightness of it familiar and giddy, like a schoolgirl crush. jisung can't stop smiling, biting his lips slightly as he turns to face mark, who's crossed to the front of the stage to speak to them. 

" — jisung, jaemin will start with your photos first. we'll just be shooting the rehearsal process today, so there's no need to-" he breaks off, brow furrowing. "jisung why are you so red?" 

"i-it's w-warm in here." 

"well you should cool off before jaemin takes your photos." jisung nods, flustered, and he walks offstage with jaemin to prepare. jeno too, strolls away with a wave to mark, leaving him alone at the front of the stage. 

with you. 

mark glances over at you, his eyes darting over your face, trying to read your expression. you can almost hear haechan's voice from that night, the ghost of the hurt still palpable in your bones. but the moment you take a step back, thinking that you should find jaemin and jisung, mark seems to have made up his mind — his face set, he starts to walk over to you, and you find your own footsteps falter.

"um, y/n, can i speak to you for a second?" 

you take a deep breath. "is this about the photos for later?" 

"no…not exactly." he clears his throat. there's a pause, as he seems to pick his words. "y/n, did i do something wrong?" 

you blink at him. "what do you mean?"

"i mean, i know it was a while ago, but i thought we were getting along fine at the party," it feels like he's rehearsed this to some capacity, or perhaps it was just the confidence of being a lead singer. "but then since then every time i saw you…i feel like you've been avoiding me." 

"i haven't been avoiding you." you take a deep breath. "mark, do you have a girlfriend?" 

his eyes widen. "are you…are you asking me out?"

"what?" you balk. "no!" 

"oh." his face falls. "i mean…i just thought…"

"that's just too bad, markie." 

it’s practically deja vu.

haechan stands behind you, his body radiating warmth, and you inhale sharply. surprisingly, he doesn't smell saccharine, the way he always does with the girls he chooses — his skin smells like baby powder and fresh linen. your body is doing that thing again – where you hone in on his presence and the whole world dissolves, and you're hyper attuned to the way his arm hovers near yours, his breath on the back of your neck. anything you were about to say to mark completely lost in your brain. 

exasperated, mark runs his hand through his hair. "haechan…don't be difficult." 

"i'm not." you feel almost numb when his hand touches your elbow, sliding down to hold your hand tight in his grip. "y/n and i have to talk about something." 

"can't it wait?" 

"it's urgent," haechan says, sarcastically, giving you a sharp tug towards him. your feet stumble as haechan starts to walk off, and you turn one last time to see mark standing there, looking a little forlorn, suddenly small under the bright lights of the stage. 

"sorry, –" you mumble out. mark frowns, starting towards you. 

but now haechan really pulls you along, yanking curtains aside and accessing a short flight of stairs. you can feel the intensity of his emotions radiating off him in waves, making it a little hard to breathe as you try to keep up, afraid of what he'll say if your hand slips from his grasp. 

he guides you along a corridor and through a doorway, stepping into the warm light of a dressing room, the door slamming shut behind you as haechan pulls you in. 

you're almost afraid to look at him, but you do anyway. 

he's slightly breathless from the walk down, stooping slightly to lock the door with careful hands. when he straightens and steps towards you, the lights hitting his features, you can see that he's covered up the hickeys on his neck with makeup. something mark made him do, no doubt. 

"haechan -" 

"park jisung? really?" he sneers, backing you into the dressing table. 

 "what?" 

"don't lie to me," he demands. "i saw you." 

"really?" you fold your arms across your chest as he moves in closer, planting both hands on the table on either side of your hips, caging you in. "you looked busy. where did she go, hm? did mark send her away, or did you?" 

haechan rolls his eyes. "that's none of your business." 

"jisung said you don't usually bring girls to the rehearsal," you continue, watching the way his tongue pokes into his cheek in annoyance. "what happened?" 

"you two talked about me?" he demands. "what else did you do? make plans to fuck after the show?" 

"i'm not a virgin anymore," you remind him, your voice laced with a warning. "i thought you only cared about my first time." 

haechan groans. seeing you talk to jisung out of the corner of his eye, seeing your hands brush and his friend's head duck shyly to the side, gave him a weight on his chest which grew heavier each time he took a breath, each time he had to hear one of jisung's small laughs. 

"if you want to have mediocre sex then i couldn't care less," he snaps. "just know that you're going to have to fuck a lot of people before you forget me." 

you can see that you're losing him, the familiar closed-off look coming back to his face, anger dissapating into indifference. 

"what is there to forget?" you ask, hurt and anger making your voice shake. 

haechan is staring at you, his face now so close to yours if you leaned in just slightly your lips would brush. 

"you don't mean that," he says, quietly. 

and just like that, all the fight drains out of you. 

"haechan, jisung just wants to take me out on a date." his features tense, and he bites his lower lip harshly. "would you ever ask me out on a date, haechan?" 

he doesn't respond.

"would you?" 

"i told you," he breathes. "i don't do that." 

"you told me you didn't want to be my first time, and you took it back," you remind him, quietly. 

"that's different." you can't help the disappointment that wells up inside you, and you know he can see it from the way his face falls too. 

"don't look at me like that, princess." he sinks into your touch easily, warmth once again circling your body.  

you don't know if you wished haechan was a liar, or if you wished he wasn't. if he was telling the truth about everything, it would be easier to let go of him, to walk away from someone who could only cause you pain, from someone who played with you over and over again. 

but maybe if he was lying it would all make sense – the way he said he didn't want you and yet kept showing up, the jealousy and the conflict in his voice, all of it would have some sort of plausible reason, one that would mean that maybe he cared for you. 

"i don't want to do this anymore," you mumble, hands placed on his chest. you only push at him lightly, but he backs off all the way to the opposite wall, your words feeling like salt in his wounds. "i can't do this with you, haechan."

"y/n-"

"you have a show soon," you mumble, turning around to look in the mirror. you comb your hair with your fingers, trying to calm yourself down. behind you, haechan's eyes flash with frustration, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows drawn together as he looks up at your reflection. 

"i'm trying to talk to you." 

"are you?" it's a genuine question, and it makes him falter, a response half-formed on his lips. when it's clear he won't finish his thought, you close your eyes. 

"you need to go," you say again, quietly.  

"will you be there?" 

you don’t respond, and he repeats himself, urgently. 

"will you be there? at the show?" 

"i will," you say, hesitantly. 

"i'll see you then." his voice is controlled, and steady. somehow it feels like the calm before the storm. 

but before you can turn around to try to talk to him, persuade him to calm down, ask him what's wrong, he's already left the room, the sound of his heeled boots echoing down the hall. 

—

"is everything okay?" 

"why are they taking so long?" 

"are they late?" 

unease settles in the pit of your stomach as you stand in the crowd, the voices all around you whispering anxiously. it had been 15 minutes since the show was scheduled to start — but the lights on the stage were dim, and the pre-show playlist had just restarted for the second time. you had situated yourself on the left side of the stage, where jisung usually stood, and you bounced on your toes, hoping that everything was alright backstage so jisung could come out and see that you had kept your promise. 

and then there's a low rumble, as lights finally flood the venue, the crowd sighing with relief as jeno and mark appear – jeno waving at the crowd, his drumsticks in one hand, while mark smiles reassuringly, walking over to the mic and checking that it's at the correct height. he apologizes lightly for the delay, looking to the side of the stage nervously as he murmurs a quick introduction of the band into the mic.

haechan strides onto stage, electric guitar slung around his neck, as the crowd's screams reach an all-time high. he stops abruptly at the left side of the stage, right in front of where you stood, nodding at the crowd and cocking his head from side to side, as if preparing for a fight. he keeps his face level as his eyes find yours, that same burning intensity you felt in the dressing room unwavering as he held your gaze.

and then jisung appears, footsteps faltering where haechan stood, the grip on his bass going slack.

"haechan." jisung's voice is soft, you can barely hear it from where you stand so close to the stage. you can tell that the crowd behind has no clue what's going on, but some fans are looking at each other confusedly, pointing at the two boys, and the position on mark's left where haechan usually stood, now empty. 

"yes?" haechan's not looking at jisung, fingers running phantom chords up and down the fret board. 

"w-why are you standing here?" jisung whispered, embarrassment evident in his tone. "aren't you supposed to be on mark's left?" 

haechan's eyes briefly flick up to yours. "not today." 

distressed, jisung makes a sound. "haechan." guilt fills up your lungs like smoke, making it difficult to breathe, a twist in your chest as jisung looks over at you, lost. 

"run along, jisung," haechan murmurs, softly. "don't want to keep the fans waiting." 

mark, not wanting to draw attention to them, keeps smiling at the crowd, starting to ask them a few questions. jisung only tries a few more times, haechan resolutely ignoring him, before finally accepting defeat, casting his eyes over to you — his gaze wounded and confused, as he walks off with his bass. he assumes haechan's position, and the crowd cheers encouragingly. the boy manages a smile. 

when mark starts to introduce the first song, haechan finally looks up, a faint smile playing on his lips as his eyes lock with yours again. just like the day you met. 

and just like the day you met, you felt yourself fall under his spell, yet again. 

—

"haechan, i think we —" you gasp out, in between the kisses that haechan is pressing to your lips. 

he gives a non-committal hum, his legs framing your body as he holds you close to his chest. his lips are warm and soft, tasting slightly of cherries, as he opens you up little by little, chaste kisses turning into open-mouthed ones, his tongue darting out and gently licking into your mouth in a way that was intoxicating. 

you grip onto his arm harshly, trying to ground yourself, and he inhales sharply, breaking away. 

"haechan –" you pant. "we should-" 

but then he's kissing you again, smothering your words with his lips and his tongue. his hands rub at your lower back, guiding your movements as you shift against him, his hips grinding upwards almost lazily. 

"jisung, –" you start, but now he gives a groan, rumbling through his chest almost like a roar. slumped back against the car door, he glares at you, touching the corner of his wet mouth with his thumb.

"you did not just fucking say my bandmates name while you're on me." 

"we should apologize to jisung," your words come out in a rush. 

"for?" he catches the look on your face, and rolls his eyes. "fine," he mumbles. "i'll talk to him." leaning up towards you, he starts to pepper kisses down your jaw, sucking a little harder on the mark he had left before. "kiss me?" he mumbles, and you have to stop yourself from caving in. 

"haechan," you press on, as haechan licks boldly at your collarbone. "haechan –"

"keep saying my name," he murmurs, hands roaming up your shirt, teasing over the clasp of your bra. 

"mark, —" 

"fuck." breaking away agian, haechan tips his head back, lips stretched out and puffy as he tongued his cheek. "you want me jealous princess? is that it? because it's fucking working –" 

"haechan, we keep hurting people." you place both hands on his chest, trying to calm him down. 

"what?" 

"today we hurt mark too. although, i don't really know why–" you break off, thinking about how he looked as he tried to follow after you and haechan. how jisung's cheeks burned red as he walked across the stage. "haechan, they're your friends." 

"you wanna hurt jeno too?" he raises his eyebrows, his own hands now mindlessly scraping against yours. "you can lead him on, and then we can fuck while he watches. although he'll probably like that –" 

again, he takes in the way you frown. "fine. sorry. jeez." 

"i don't want to hurt people because of us," you say, softly. 

"well," he exhales. "they're only hurt because they can't have you, princess." he tucks your hair behind your ear from where its come loose. "there's nothing we can do, hm?"

you shake your head. "you're not being fair," you whisper. 

"how so?" his hands slide down. there's something possessive in the drag of his palms, the way he squeezes your waist. 

"you don't call me yours…but you also don't let them near me." your voice is small, but it rings loud in the silence of the car all the same. the streets outside were empty and deserted, and you think you can hear your heart beating in the still air as your palms stay pressed on his firm chest. "haechan…i need you to choose."  

it's a long time before haechan responds. he's tired from the show and all the adrenaline, you can feel it in his slow breathing, in the way his eyes blink slowly up at you like an afterthought. but his eyes are what give it away – his gaze is sharp and calculative as his eyes roam your body, his touches not quite as drowsy as he appears, fingers tingling against skin. 

you wait, your heart in your throat. you wait and you hope. 

his full lips part, his eyes meeting yours. 

"so…this is our last time together?" 

of course that's his choice. the disappointment spreads like cold, an ache deep in your bones. "if that's what you choose." your voice is flimsy. "haechan, —" but nothing leaves your mouth, just a wounded sound. everything rushing up inside you like a waves breaking over the shore, memories flooding your senses. 

the hurt on mark's face. haechan's hands on your skin. the blush that burned at jisung's skin as he watched haechan pull you to his car, his figure growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. haechan's lips against your ear as he held you. 

"shhh," his arms hold you against his chest, smoothing down your spine as he comforts you as if you were a baby, you clinging on tight to him as if he were going to disappear. "it's okay," he murmurs. "we'll just have to make it count, hm?" gently, he guides your face out of his chest, relieved when he realizes that you're not crying yet, at least. kissing your cheek gently, he brushes his thumb against the apples of your cheeks. "are you alright? do you want me to take you home?" 

"s-stop it." you manage to steady your breathing enough to repeat yourself. "stop being gentle with me, haechan. stop leading me on." 

"stop getting hurt," he replies, a little teasing, but his tone aches. 

"kiss me?" 

this time you do, letting him guide your movements, as he pulls you down into his body as if he were trying to pull you all the way through him. 

his kisses are slow and sweet, tilting his head almost shyly, the tip of his nose bumping against yours as he leans up into you. his tongue carefully slides over your bottom lip, before he's nudging your lips apart with his own again, tongue gently moving over yours, pulling away with a small smile when you chase after him, tongue stuck out slightly, chasing the warmth of his mouth. 

"cute," he mumbles, and you pull your shirt up over your head just so he won't see the way your cheeks burn in the dark. 

his movements become a little more urgent as he unclasps your bra, letting it slide to the floor of his car as he surges towards you. his lips begin to suck marks onto your chest, hands now squeezing your soft breasts, mapping your body indulgently. his tongue licks slowly around your right nipple, before giving it a gentle flick with his tongue, your body shifting restlessly against him as it sends a wave of arousal down to your core. he hugs you against him to steady your movements, lapping at your nipples and guiding each roll of your hips down into his. 

your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him away from you. before you can tell him to stop teasing, he's kissed you again — placating. sweet like he knew everything you were about to say, before you even said it. 

you raise your hips as his hands smooth over the pleats of your skirt, before flipping the soft material upwards. you hadn't worn anything special, not having the courage to, but the way he looked at your simple white panties, thumb running carefully over the pink bow in the middle of the waistband, made you feel warm all over. you hurry to pull them off, just to break the moment, but he catches them right before you tug them off your ankle. 

"can i keep these?" his doe-eyes blink up at you. you can see the brown in his irises, almost gold in the light. you nod, and he lets out a laugh, kissing you through his smile as his fingers wander up your thighs. 

he starts with slow circles on your clit, stroking the nub gently, feeling the way your hips shift at the feeling. when he speeds up his motions, fingers teasing along your slit and catching at your entrance a few times, your hips begin to pick up a steady rhythm, rocking into his hand. 

"do you just want to cum like this?" he asks kindly, placing a bit more pressure on the tips of his fingers. he wants to be inside you badly, his erection almost painful from the lack of contact, but he knew that it might do more for him than it did for you.

this was how he wanted you to be taken care of for your first time, for your second time — this is why he didn't want you to slip away from him into rooms with men who wouldn't know what you needed, wouldn't care what you wanted.

or at least — it's what he tells himself to keep him sane. 

"'m close," you mumble, your movements uncoordinated, neediness driving your hips into his hand, pleasure that you didn't quite know how to handle. "feels so empty, haechan, please –" 

he slows down his movements, a hand sliding over your waist to rub at your lower back, eliciting a warm sound from you that radiates into his chest. he slides a finger into your tight entrance, feeling the way you tense around him, slowly slipping the finger in and out, curling against your walls carefully. his thumb comes up to press your clit, and you inhale sharply as the pressure in your abdomen builds. 

"more…" 

"baby, you're doing so well," he praises. freckling careful kisses on your neck to distract you, you feel another finger catch against your entrance, his hand breaking its rhythm to carefully slide in, stretching your hole out even more. with a lewd suck on the base of your neck, he curls both fingers against your walls, a slick finger slipping on your clit, and you feel yourself crash headfirst into your high, thighs clamping around his hand in sensitivity as you moan. he murmurs praises against your ear, kissing your jaw sweetly between each one. 

he removes his hand from your core with a wet sound, and you drop down into his lap, feeling weak at the knees even though you weren't standing. he lets out a groan, feeling your wetness and warmth through his jeans, and he can feel his cock twitch under the fabric. but still, he waits until your breathing evens out, using his cleaner hand to stroke at your sides, humming lightly under his breath, the reassuring sound filling the car. his breaths sync with yours as you come down from your high, and together you let out a shaky exhale. 

"do you mind?" he asks, quietly, hands going to his belt slowly, trying not to startle you. "we don't have to have sex. i just really need to take care of this now…" you nod, flustered, crawling backwards down his legs, and he leans forward to kiss the crown of your hair. against the soft sounds of your breathing, the sound of him unbuckling his belt, letting it drop into the shadows, and the rustle of fabric as he tugged his jeans and underwear down as much as he could, were endlessly arousing. you felt yourself begin to pulse with need again, your thighs squeezing together when he pulls out his cock, thick and heavy against his palm, the tip blushy and leaking. 

he gives himself a tentative stroke, spreading pre-cum over his length before squeezing the base and hissing at the feeling as he tries to stop from cumming too soon. as if in a trance, you reach out towards him, your hand curiously wrapping around his shaft. he groans, low, as you give him a tentative stroke, although the sound is cut off by a high whimper when your fingers rub the head of his cock, silky under your fingertips. 

"baby, you don't have to –" he's cut off by another moan as you squeeze his length, applying more pressure as you stroke. "fuck, jus' like that," he mumbles, weakly, as you twist your wrist a little on a downstroke, palm slippery with pre-cum. after a few more strokes, watching haechan's head loll this way and that, twisting with pleasure, you pay more attention to his tip, thumbing just under it, fingers rubbing his slit. haechan's hips are restless, thrusting into your hand, his body shaking and the muscles on his abdomen clenched tight. you give him a few more strokes, and his whines fill up the car, raspy and sinful in a way that made you crave him even more. 

mimicking his movements, you slide your hand back down to his base and squeeze. he blinks hazily up at you, lips still parted, panting breathlessly. 

"baby…" 

"i need you," your voice feels broken, desire pulsing through each syllable. "please haechan," you add, as he swallows harshly, his cock twitching slightly against the warmth of your hand. 

pulling you towards him, he kisses you again, fingers wandering down to your heat and stroking your folds. "so wet from touching me, baby?" he teases, smiling against your lips as he slips a finger in, and then another, your walls sucking him in easily. he finds your soft spot immediately, your thighs shaking around his hand as you whine. it's a sound embarrassing to your own ears, but it's like music to haechan's ears, as he lets out a low groan. 

"it's too bad it's your last time with me," he murmurs, lightly, as he takes a condom out from the glove compartment, his hands moving swiftly as he tears open the package and rolls it onto his cock. "i would love to record your pretty sounds…" your voice lets out another small whimper, as if proving him right, as he adjusts you on his lap so the head of his cock lines up with your entrance. slowly, you sink down on him, clutching onto his body for support as you feel him fill you up tightly. 

"breathe," he coaxes, letting his own head sink back against the seats, the hazy feeling of you wet and warm around him intensifying as you take all of him inside you. he continues on, trying to distract you by peppering gentle kisses all over your cheeks. "would you like to hear your voice in a song, sweetheart? all the girls in the crowd wondering who's pretty voice is on the track, wondering who's making her feel this good…" he hisses, when he feels you pulse around him. "you want that?" 

your lips part, stuttering out jumbles of half-sentences, yes-es and nos. "'m just teasing, baby," he coos, as he thrusts his hips upwards experimentally, bouncing you on his lap. you lean into his body, feeling muscle firm under your palms as you raise your hips and grind against him, sensitivity making your thighs shake as the movement stimulates your clit. 

responding to your need, his arm loops around your waist while his fingers wander towards your clit, stroking and rubbing it expertly as he continues to thrust up into you, the car jolting with his movements. his strong thighs tense as he moves, barely pulling out before stuffing himself into you again, your walls kneading his length in a way that makes his body feel hot with need, chasing his climax. your soft sounds each time his tip grazes your soft spot are an aphrodisiac, and he feels himself growing impossibly harder inside you, so aroused it almost hurts. 

"haechan, i'm cumming," you moan, and his fingers put more pressure on your clit, as you bounce on him, eager for release. 

"keep saying my name," he breathes, pulling you close, your bodies moving frantic and unsteady against each other, as you cum, mouthing his name against his skin. he empties himself into the condom soon after, hips still jolting as he helps you ride out the aftershocks of your climax, your breaths echoing loud in the car.

you almost wanted to ask for round 2 — and you were sure he would give it to you, if you had asked. instead you stay silent, feeling emptier than ever as he pulls out, your body draining of his warmth as he cleans you with wipes from his glove compartment, kissing you sweetly whenever your eyes met. the water bottle he procured from the passenger seat of the car making you wonder if this was his plan all along, as you sipped quietly, as he put your address in his phone to take you home. 

—

you can feel him slip away from you on the drive back. 

a sea of red and green lights move across the planes of his face as you watch him drive, one hand on the wheel and the other touching your hand softly on the centre console. you give his fingers a faint squeeze and he smiles, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a light kiss to your fingertips. 

when you reach the next intersection, he pulls his hand from yours and puts it back on the steering wheel. 

when he makes his next turn, his shoulders start to tense and the easy, relaxed expression on his face morphs into a stony one. 

and when he finally pulls up in front of your apartment building, turning to face you, the glowing streetlights illuminating the outlines of his face do nothing to soften the blow of seeing him like this again — looking at you with half-lidded eyes, almost lazy in his power. 

"are you coming to the next show?"  

"i want to," you respond, your voice small. "...should i?" 

"it doesn't really matter to me." his fingers tap against the wheel, restlessly. "i just hope you know you shouldn't wait around afterwards." 

you bite your lip. "i know." 

he nods. "so you know this is over?" 

"i know." 

"good girl." it feels like a punch to the stomach, and you inhale, sharply, hands gripping the handle of the car door. waiting for him to dismiss you, as he always did. 

but then he's speaking again, breaking the silence. his voice is softer, a little more hesitant – "do you need me to walk you up?" he's not looking at you, eyes trained on his dashboard. "will you be okay?" 

it's cruel, the way your heart stutters in your chest. you take one last look at him, trying to memorize everything — the sharp line of his jaw, his collarbones, the joints of his fingers, the way his pinky finger crooks slightly to the right. the faint smell of vanilla and something darker, mixed with his warmth. you try to memorize it because you're sure this is the last time you'll be so close to him again, both in proximity, and in the way his voice aches with something close to tenderness. in that moment, you know if you told him you needed him, he would turn off the engine and open your car door, holding you safe against his chest and walking you up to your apartment. but what for? for him to shut off on the way up the elevator, and turn into a stranger at your door? 

"it's fine," you murmur, and you don't wait for a response before stepping out into the warm night. 

—

your ribs press against the barrier, and you wince slightly. the crowd screams loud in your ear, as the boy in front of you looks up from his guitar at the crowd in front of him, dark gaze sliding over faces, tongue poking at his cheek and puffy lips stretched. 

his eyes briefly meet yours, and your heart skips a beat. 

and then he's looking back down at his guitar again, lips pursed in concentration. 

the next time he glances up, the familiar glint is back, eyebrows drawn together. there was something strange about the way he was looking at you, not exactly meeting your eyes. was he looking at your clothes? your hair? or… 

"oh my god!" 

you shoot a brief glance back, at the girl who's just let out a squeal. she claps her hands over her mouth, eyes shining as she stares adoringly at haechan, unblinking. you don't have to check to know he's staring right back — you know the look on her face a little too well. 

the disappointment and jealousy weighing on your chest is entirely unjustified, but you feel it heavy in your bones, anyway. 

he had meant every word: it was truly over. 

–

"did anyone see you?" 

"no," you whimper, as he mouths over the seat of your panties, tongue lapping at your folds through the fabric. 

"good girl," he pants, letting out a satisfied groan when he tugs them down your legs, burying his face in between your legs with a lewd moan. 

but if it was truly over, why did he find you after the show last week, – slipping by you to tell you to meet him in the upstairs master bedroom, where he fingered you open in front of the mirror?

if it was truly over, why did a stagehand stop you from leaving after the next show you went to, passing you a note that told you to wait at the back entrance of the venue? 

"fuck fuck fuck-"

and if it was truly over, why was he currently in between your spread legs, his mouth and chin covered with your juices as you lay on his bed?

"need you now, princess." his fingers brush your clit, and your thighs shake with overstimulation. "are you okay? i can wait-" 

"don't wait," you plead, pulling him towards you. he follows, propping himself up on his arms as his face reaches yours, his lips gently nudging your own apart, letting you taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you. his sticky hands stroke your sides, leaving trails on your skin. "haechan –" 

he interrupts you with another kiss. freckling more kisses down your neck, he smiles against the mark he left days ago, fading slightly now. "i missed this," he murmurs, and your heart stings, a collection of memories surfacing in your mind – of his eyes avoiding yours at shows. of him waiting onstage for someone else. of him smiling at you cordially, face blank as if he were greeting you for the first time when he talked to you in front of other fans. 

"did you really?" 

he doesn't respond, latching his lips to your skin with a hum, hands cupping your breasts in one swift motion, fingers teasing over your nipples and making your body arch into his touch. 

"haechan…"  

"what do you want, princess?" he wanders lower, licking at your cleavage. your mind threatens to blank when he circles a fingertip around your areola, puffy wet lips closing around a nipple and sucking wetly. "hm?" 

"want you to fuck me…" your voice is shaky, but you press on. "like how you were gonna fuck that girl."  

his hands still for just a brief second. you can see your words hit him, understanding and lust flickering in his responding laugh. he focuses his eyes back on your face, hands now coming up to brush your lips, caressing your cheek, smoothing over your skin almost lovingly.

this is how he was going to fuck her? 

"open up," he murmurs, fingers pressed to your bottom lip. as if stuck in a trance, your lips part. 

a wet mess of saliva, still mixed with traces of your arousal, drips down from his tongue into your mouth, connecting your lips with his in a glossy sheen. his lips tug into a smile as he sees your blown-out pupils, arousal completely overriding his every thought. 

his fingers trace your jaw. "swallow," he commands, sweetly, and as always you do exactly as he says. 

you feel something shift against your upper thigh, your hips rising on instinct to buck against his hard length, still trapped behind his ripped jeans. 

his low groan is interrupted by a sharp rattling of the doorknob, followed by a thud against the door. both of you still, eyes focused on the locked door, straining your ears to hear the voices outside. 

"are you sure no one saw you?" haechan asks, quietly. "did jisung see you? mark? jeno?"

"i don't think so," you mumble. 

that was the arrangement you had come up with a little over a week ago, discussed in heated kisses and bliss-induced haze. you could keep seeing haechan, as long as you never saw the rest of the band again. on nights when he knew he wanted you, you would slip through crowds like a ghost to make your way into warm beds and cold bathrooms, saving him from the jealousy, and saving you from the questions. 

of course, there were a few nights where no message would find you, where he wouldn't grab your wrist as you brushed past him in a hallway, his hands distracted with someone else. those nights used to make you cry, your entire being aching for his attention, his indifference just as bruising as his care. 

the doorknob rattles again, and there's a knock on the door. 

"haechan? are you in there?" 

mark's voice. 

"they're back early from the party," haechan mumbled. to your shock, he ignores them and tugs off his shirt roughly, revealing delicate tanned skin dotted with moles, looking soft-to-touch. 

"haechan," mark's voice is exasperated. "i thought we agreed not to bring girls to our apartment." 

haechan rolls his eyes as his hands go to his belt, ridding himself of his pants and underwear. you can see the muscles in his thighs tense as he makes his way up the bed, hands holding your hips.

"you wanted me to fuck you like the other girls?" he murmurs, low so only you can hear. "well. on your knees." 

"but mark is –" you break off, seeing the way his eyes narrow, something dangerous flickering in his pupils. "but…but they're outside," you whisper. as if to prove your point, mark bangs on the door again. 

and then jisung's voice, low and urgent comes through the door. "who is he even with? the girl he left the show with was alone when i saw her."

"god, are they all outside the door?" haechan grumbles, focusing his attention back on you when you let out a small sound of distress. "forget about them," he soothes, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. his mouth moves over yours searingly, possessive and all-consuming in the way he pushes his tongue into your mouth. "on your knees," he commands, quietly, against your mouth. "i won't ask again." 

a thrill runs down your spine as you flip over, his large hands adjusting you so your back arches, head pressed into the pillows as he holds your hips up. he presses a kiss to your back as he reaches off the bed for a condom, rolling it onto his hard length with a soft groan. you look over your shoulder, see him stroking himself, mouth hanging open. 

"hurry," you plead. you can feel slick on your thighs from the way he ate you out earlier, growing wetter from anticipation. "please." 

he ignores you. "can you be quiet for me?" he mumbles. outside, you can hear the boys discussing something heatedly, voices low so you can't make out the words. "don't want anyone else to hear you."

"yes," you promise, meekly. 

"good girl." he lines himself up to your entrance, reaching around to rub your clit as he runs the tip of his cock against your folds. you let out a shaky breath at the feeling, trying hard not to let it catch your vocal cords. 

one hand on your hip and the other stroking your lower back, he pushes in slowly, letting you adjust to his girth. you feel a sting as he stretches your walls, filling you up deeply while burying himself inside you. he murmurs for you to relax, listening to you take shallow breaths, the way your hole flutters around his length making him want to thrust forward, relieve his own ache. 

"haechan, are you asleep?" 

there's a sharp rap on the door, and haechan curses as it makes you tighten around him, gummy walls gripping him like a vice, as if begging for his cum. 

"you liked that, baby?" his voice is low, and mocking. you whimper. "you like the idea of them coming in and seeing you like this? letting me take you like a slut?" 

"haechan, we know you're in there." now it's jeno's rough voice, devoid of its usual warmth. "we saw the shoes at the door. we need to talk." 

haechan pulls out until only his tip is still inside you, and slams back in aggressively, filling you to the brim. he starts to build a rhythm, thrusting deep and slow inside you, letting you feel the drag of him against your walls as he strokes your clit with his fingers. he was taking his time with you — pausing to lean forward and press kisses to your shoulders, mouthing messily over your skin. 

"haechan, please -" you try to keep your voice quiet, but he chooses this time to fuck you a little harder, picking up the pace, and your mouth hangs open as your aborted whimpers turn into drawn out moans.  

"hm?" he prompts, faking nonchalance. but you can feel that the pace is affecting him too, his breathing growing heavier as he speeds up a little more. 

"harder," you mumble, words feeling thick and slow in your mouth. "faster. fuck," 

a bang on the door. the loud sound makes you jolt, and haechan hisses as you clench down on him harshly again, your thighs inching closer together, creating a tighter fit around his thick cock. 

"i wonder why they're not coming in yet." his voice in your ear is low, sultry. the kind he uses on-stage when he's teasing the crowd. 

"i-isn't the door l-locked?" 

"sure…but it's a really old lock. i know mark could open it if he really wanted to. he's done it before when i'm late for rehearsals, ah fuck-" he's slamming himself into you, barely pulling out before pushing in again, wet sounds filling the room. "fuck, you must really like that. how do you just keep getting tighter and tighter, hm?" 

"haech–" 

"maybe i'll ask them to come in…" he muses, his tone sickly sweet. "i just know you'll cum hard on my cock when they open the door, right? let them see how filthy you are?" 

"don't –", you choke. 

"should i tell them not to come in?" 

"no," you gasp, and he laughs, darkly. 

"no, i should tell them to come in?" he asks between breathless pants, pace unrelenting as the lewd sound of skin against skin fills the room. "you want me to talk to them baby?" 

you let out an incoherent mumble, no longer sure of anything. 

he coos at that. "dumb already, princess?" his hand wanders up to your chest, blunt nails haphazardly scraping across your nipples. your hips push back onto him instinctively, fucking yourself onto his length, your hips chasing pleasure from the sensitivity as you cum. 

"haechan, i'm not leaving until you open the door." another thud, as mark sits down. 

"fuck…" haechan's only half listening to mark as he throws his head back, murmuring curses as he feels you clench around him, milking his cock. it takes all the self control he has to place his hands on your waist, stilling your movements as he pulls out of you. he's so hard that it hurts, and he knows his release is close, but he still shifts your body until you're lying on your back, and he can see your tear-streaked face, drool smeared all over your chin. 

you mouth his name soundlessly, fresh waves of tears gathering on your waterline as you see him move away from you, and you try to sit up to keep him in your line of sight. 

"haechan, –" 

"i'm here," he murmurs, one hand immediately finding yours and squeezing, the other grappling for the water bottle on the bedside table. he unscrews the cap with one hand as he moves towards you, helping you prop yourself up against the headboard. "drink." 

he holds the bottle up to your lips, but you shake your head. "want you," you whisper, even though your mouth feels warm and sticky, your throat dry from moaning. you can't focus on anything except for the emptiness inside you, your clit throbbing whenever you shift your thighs together slightly. you're focused on his hard length, the slope of his shoulders down to his slender waist. you shake your head again, knocking the bottle against your lips and spilling a little bit of the water onto the sheets. 

"don't be a brat." his voice is low, a dangerous sort of patience in his tone. "drink, or i won't give you what you want." 

you swallow, his voice washing over you, pulling you under. this time when he raises the bottle to your lips, you hold it with shaky hands, letting water trickle down your throat. his own hand comes up, touching two fingers to your neck gently, making sure you were drinking instead of pretending by feeling for the movement of your throat.  

"done?" he watches you lick your parted lips, dewy with water and saliva, and takes the bottle from you, placing it back on the stand. "do you want to keep going?" 

you nod, slowly. 

"use your words," he commands, quietly. 

"please don't stop," you plead, shuffling towards him. it feels like the fog has cleared slightly in your head, the water making the heat haze dissipate. vaguely, you're sure that mark, jisung, and jeno must know what you were doing – must have heard the headboard thumping against the wall, haechan's low groans and your breathless whimpers. 

you wonder what mark is thinking now, outside, not leaving and yet not breaking in like haechan said he could. it sends a wave of arousal down to your core, some part of you wanting him to see the way you break for haechan, completely and wholly his. your way of rejecting him without having to see his face – your way of explaining why you ignored him whenever he caught your eyes during shows and after-parties. 

haechan reads you easily, observing the way your eyes flicker to the door. he's torn between opening the door himself — letting mark see you on his bed, fucked stupid by him, or stepping outside and telling mark to leave because no one should see or hear you like this but him. 

"do you want me to tell mark to leave?" 

"n-no," you hesitate. "don't."

he raises his eyebrows. "why?" 

"w-want him to know that i'm yours," you mumble, a hand wrapping around his thigh and squeezing. 

haechan's eyes darken. “mine?” he echoes, quietly, almost gently.

you're so focused on the shift in his features – the set of his jaw, the way he tenses, that you barely notice he's sliding off the bed and picking you up effortlessly so that you cling to his upper body, legs gripping his waist. his lip curls into a smile, head tilted mockingly as he starts to walk, strong arms holding you up.

your back hits solid wood, and you gasp. 

"haechan?" mark's voice is crystal clear on the other side of the door. 

haechan adjusts his grip, pushing you against the door as he slides his tip along your dripping cunt, making you squirm in his hold. 

"be good, hm?" he whispers, as he pushes into you, eyes squeezing shut and jaw dropping open at the feeling of your walls sucking him back in, pulsing along his length and making his cock throb. when he opens his eyes again, his gaze is unfocused, hazy, and you can see that this situation is heightening his arousal, causing his thrusts to be sloppy and unfocused as he chases his own high. each time he pushes into you, the weight of his hips snapping against yours pushes against the door, and you hear it jolt a little, the lock jiggling.

mark's shouted expletive rings against your ears, mirrored by haechan's own as he captures your lips in a kiss. the feeling is familiar and new at the same time, his tongue sliding languidly over yours, swiping against your bottom lip. at the sight of your parted mouth and wet lips, he moans again, and without hesitating he spits into your waiting mouth, sloppy and messy, causing it to dribble past your lips and down your chin. 

the rhythm against the door is unmistakable, and you can hear footsteps as mark runs off. haechan laughs, a pleased hum in his chest that vibrates against your own as he leans into you, and he mouths down your neck, biting at your shoulder and letting his low groan scrape against his throat as a growl. you cum when your stiff nipples brush against his chest, the tiny bit of stimulation just enough to throw you over the edge into your orgasm, your thighs clenching around him as you sob, your core aching. 

the feeling of your walls rippling around his length is too much to bear, and he barely lets you ride out your orgasm on him before he's pulling out of you and carrying you back to his bed. haechan tugs off the condom urgently as you lie there, tired and spent, watching as he strokes his length, fast, eyes fluttering open and shut with lust, his hips thrusting forward uncontrollably. his thumb ghosts just under the head of his cock, and then he's cumming all over your stomach and chest, sticky white spurts pooling on your skin. 

you watch him out of half-lidded eyes as his breathing slows, collapsing next to you in a heap. the high from the sex hasn't faded yet – the consequences of being heard by all his bandmates hasn't hit you, as you bask in the temporary glow of being his. 

a finger traces along the cum on your stomach, haechan transfixed by the sight. curious, your hands grab for the small mirror on his bedside table, and he comes out of his daze, handing it to you wordlessly. 

in the moonlight, the marks he's made on your skin blur with the shadows. no part of you looks untouched — your tear-streaked face and kiss-swollen lips, bruises on your hips and the sting of the bite mark on your shoulder. your hands tremble a little as you focus the mirror on where his fingers play with his drying cum on your skin, tracing lines and curves. 

"'m yours," you mumble out. 

"yeah?" he chokes. "mine?" 

dazedly, you point to your neck. "yours." 

he groans, just watching you, eyes roving over your body. "you're beautiful," he whispers. you think he means it.

"more." your voice is quiet. 

"no more, baby," he murmurs, looking up at you with concern. "it's too much for you." 

you shake your head. "these could be from anyone," you point at the marks on your neck. his body tenses, hands stiff on your skin. "i want to be yours." 

slowly, your words settle over him. he looks at you with an unreadable expression, the kind you see right before he strikes his first chord, the moment his eyes find yours in the crowd. a dark sort of determination, in the way his holds your gaze. 

he reaches over, and opens a drawer. you can hear the sound of things knocking around inside as he roots his hand around, finally emerging with an eyeliner pen. through the mirror, you can see his hands splayed out over the space just under your breasts, pulling the skin over your ribcage taut. his tongue pokes out into the lower corner of his mouth as he places the tip of the pen to your skin. 

he loops once. skids the pen downwards. jerks it up harshly, ending off with jagged motions, each brush trailing ink on your skin. 

when he's done he leans backwards, raising his eyebrows, asking you wordlessly if this was finally enough. his signature on your body, next to the bruises and marks and last remnants of his cum on your skin. 

—

"haechan?" 

he doesn't respond, but a part of you expects it already – you've memorized the way he leaves. 

"why didn't you fuck that girl tonight?" 

he takes his time, taking a long sip from his bottle of wine. from where you lie on the bed, you can just see the broad frame of his back, his side profile as he looks out of the window and at the moon, bright in the sky, the milky glow illuminating his skin. without his makeup, he looked like just a boy – pretty features almost dainty on his face. it's his hands which break the facade, calloused and rough, with veins that make your head spin when you think about them for too long, holding the bottle up to his lips. 

"didn't feel like it." 

you think about his answer, blinking slowly from the sleepiness. "why did you fuck me?" 

he faces forward, away from you. "felt like it."  

"why?" 

"i'm beginning to question that too," he replies, bluntly.

hurt aches in your bones, as silence rings loud in your ears. "if you don't want me here i can just go," you say, softly, and you're sure your voice sounds as wounded as you feel. "you've cleaned me up. i can leave if you want." 

you can see him stiffen, his shoulders tensing up. 

"where's jaemin?" 

of course. sitting up, you wince at the ache between your legs. "he's probably asleep," you answer, bitterly. "but i can just call a cab –"

his back muscles tense, and then he's shifting from where he sits on the edge of the bed. sliding into the space next to you, he rests back against the headboard, legs stretched out over the sheets. a hand wraps around yours. 

"ask me easier questions," he mumbles, turning your palm over so he can lace your fingers together, giving them a reassuring squeeze. 

your breath stutters. 

"what did you talk about? with the band?" 

after cleaning you up and tucking you into bed, haechan had finally stalked out of the bedroom to talk to mark, jisung and jeno. he hadn't said a thing when he returned, holding a bottle of wine, placing it on the bedside table before stepping into the bathroom wordlessly to remove his makeup. 

haechan blinks down slowly at your intertwined hands. "they asked me what was going on." 

"what?" 

"i've been losing focus," he mumbles. "during shows and during rehearsal. and jeno noticed i kept ditching girls at parties, said it wasn't like me to not be fucking around at all." 

a beat. 

you bite your lip. "you're…you're losing focus?" 

but he just shakes his head. "they're wrong." 

you can see that the topic is upsetting him, so you rush to ask another question. "do you write any of the songs that the band play?" 

he raises his eyebrows. "so you care so much about the band now? does that mean you're a fan?" 

he ignores your mumbled excuse, squeezing your hand again to let you know he was teasing. "mark usually writes the songs," he answers. "i don't have much to write about." and then, with a little more force, "ask me questions about me, not the band."

"what does this tattoo mean?" you place the tip of your finger just below his ribcage, where there's a small doodle of a bear paw. 

"people say i look like a bear," he mumbles, a little shy. even in the moonlight, his pouty lips and round cheeks are evident, his shoulders broad as he slumps against the headboard. 

"i see it," you confirm, and a smile flickers on his face. 

"yeah?" he looks over at you, and his free arm loops around your shoulder, squeezing you into his side. his affection buzzes in your veins, as you try to divert his attention with another question. 

"and what does this tattoo mean?" your other hand comes up again, now to trace at the sunflower peeking out from the base of his neck, trailing down to his shoulder. 

he takes a deep breath. "my sister picked it." 

"sister?" 

"baby sister," he adds, softly. "she just turned six. this is her favorite flower." 

"oh." 

"why?" he tilts his head, bumping your own gently. "do i not seem like an older brother?" 

"i think…" you hum, contemplating. "not when you're onstage," you decide.

"do you think i'm different? from when i'm onstage?" 

"i don't know you enough to judge," you say, truthfully. aside from the sex, and from the brief moments right after when it felt like he was truly there, holding you, the haechan you knew was mostly the one flooded with stage lights, the kind of boy you had to beg to earn his attention. 

haechan goes quiet, his hand on yours stilling, and you turn to look at him. tension is filling up the room, slow and thick like a fog, and you can't breathe against the weight of everything — the weight of his gaze, the almost boyish way his eyes flick down to your lips and back up to meet yours. 

"do you want to?" 

you bite your lip. 

maybe two weeks ago your heart would have leapt, maybe you would have begged for the opportunity to have him closer. 

but your body has already had time to learn disappointment, to defend yourself against his callousness and his cold, learning the art of slipping in and out of intimacies. every line crossed, every boundary blurred. 

"do i want to?" you echo, and you see him falter. 

maybe his own words held more weight than he'd anticipated. 

"you don't?" 

or maybe he was just scared to hear your answer. 

"will you let me?" you reflect the question back to him. his fingers twitch against your shoulder where he's still holding you.

there were some nights where it felt as if he was taking his adrenaline out on your body, or where he was making you forget the fear of being caught by overriding your senses with pleasure. there were others when you fell so deep into a headspace, that he would care for you gently, something romantic and tender in the negative space between your bodies. 

and ultimately all of these nights ended the same – the same curl of his lip, his face closed-off, his voice too steady and unfeeling.

"how would you let me know you?" it's only when he flinches when you catch the harshness to your tone, your own words leaving a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. "by barely letting things slip every night?" 

"y/n…" it's not meant as a warning. your name is spoken softly, with an ache in it that makes goosebumps rise up your arms. "i thought you were fine." 

"i am," you insist, feeling defensive. "i'm fine with you pretending you don't know me, or when you disappear on the drive home." 

"y/n, –" 

"just…don't say things if you don't mean them," you finish, mumbling your words to mute the hurt in them. 

there's a long silence. 

and then, his voice, so delicate and fragile, like he was afraid his words would bruise the space between him and you. 

"we're playing at a bar this friday." 

you make a sound of confusion, and he continues on. "it's only for a few fans who won some sort of a lucky draw. they get to talk to us and get autographs." 

"i didn't enter," you cut in, but still he continues on, as if he was trying to get the words out before he lost his nerve.

"i'm inviting you now. and….and afterwards i'll leave with you and we can go to my place." he swallows. "my real apartment. not this one i share with the band." he lets out a shaky breath. "i don't… i don't usually bring girls there, if you can't tell."  

"but…" the wheels in your head are turning slowly, as you try to catch up with what he's saying. "but if i'm there… and it's such a small crowd…the band is going to see that i'm there. 

"they will," he confirms quietly. 

"they're going to know you invited me. because i'm not a fan." 

his lips twitch. "but you like me, no?" 

"i do," you concede, absentmindedly. "but i thought you said…the band…" 

"i don't think i really care about that anymore." his thumb dips low, brushing over the space under your ribs where his name is temporarily tattooed against your skin. "i…" he hesitates, before his thumb swipes against your skin again, and he takes a deep breath. "i told them about you. just now." 

you feel like you're falling – a sense of vertigo making your head spin.

"what did you say?" 

"just that…there was a you," he finished, lamely. "that we see each other more, but it's nothing." his hand squeezes yours, a gentle pulse. "nothing yet, anyway."

"i'll take it," you murmur, holding his hand clasped in both of yours and kissing him lightly on his fingertips. his face crumples, his chest caving in on itself with the weight of the tenderness he feels for you in that moment, and he leans in, tilting his head, eyes fluttering closed. 

he kisses you like it's a promise, close-lipped and earnest. it feels almost like the two of you are finally on even ground. 

— 

"what are you trying to do?" 

you jump, as the light in the small kitchenette flicks on. dirty dishes pile up in the sink, mugs scattered over the countertop, and the boy leaning against the fridge focuses his gaze on you. his voice is gentle, a mellow sort of sweetness undercut by the deepness of his voice. not in the way jisung's was deep, but a bass to it that gave it authority, one that the boy seldom had to use. 

"what do you mean?" 

jeno tilts his head. "y/n, do you know why haechan likes to fuck girls after his shows?" 

the sweetness on your tongue from haechan's kiss decays into bitterness. 

jeno doesn't seem to care. "he gets high off the feeling of the crowd. it's something he doesn't want to let go of, so he finds someone who adores him and makes them prove it." his eyes bore into yours, unblinking. "he doesn't care who he's with, y/n. he just likes the way they sound, screaming his name." 

"but why doesn't-" you choke. it  feels almost like you're betraying him. "why doesn't he date?" 

jeno raises his eyebrows, and you feel pathetic. it’s a long time before he finally answers.

"all the girls are only after the version of him onstage. it's him they like, and haechan's just extending the performance. would you want to date someone who only liked one side of you?"

"but i don't just like that side of haechan," you protest, weakly. even then, you don't know what other sides you're alluding to — was it his gentleness with you? how he always held you after? the one who let his baby sister pick his tattoos?

"y/n?" 

a soft voice sounds out from the corridor leading off into the bedrooms. sleep-ridden syllables mumbling out into the still air, calling your name. 

"where are you? is everything okay?"

jeno's looking at you with someone like pity in his eyes, the way your body turns towards his voice like an instinct. "haechan isn't even his real name, did you know that?" 

he crosses over to you, and places his mug into the sink behind your back. "try not to get too loud," he murmurs. "we're all tired." 

and as haechan pulls you into his warm embrace, palms wandering over your skin, you bite your tongue and keep as quiet as possible.

—

haechan's head snaps up as he sees the door swing open again and more girls wander into the bar. there are excited squeals and shouts as they spot the band, he can hear mark's warm laugh and see jisung's wave out of his peripheral vision. behind him, jeno's methodically checking on his drum kit, and haechan can feel his eyes on the back of his neck, as if he knew. 

his eyes scan the crowd again, praying he was wrong. but deep down he knows he would recognise your voice anywhere, be able to spot your features even in total darkness. 

and right now, you weren't there at all. 

his body goes on autopilot, muscle memory kicking in as he plays the chords, does his solos, nods along to the music. the crowd is frenetic, watching the way his eyebrows are drawn together, tonguing at his cheek, his lips downturned — the anger tense in his body making them whisper to themselves, wondering why this was part of his performance today. he keeps his expression slack as he signs autographs, nodding curtly towards fans as they bid him goodbye timidly, intimidated by his stormy gaze. 

he doesn't understand why it makes his insides twist, each time he searches the crowd and darts his eyes back to his guitar. maybe he'd just gotten used to seeing you front row at his shows. maybe that was all this was — and you were a bad habit he should have broken. 

it's what he tells himself as he lets his hands brush against the girl's as she holds her poster out to him, smiling a close-lipped smile, eyes dragging up and down his body excitedly. he lets her think it's a part of the performance, as he rails her in the bathroom of the bar, his eyes squeezed shut as she moans his name into the sink, trying to ignore the way her body didn't react at all like yours did, that his hands couldn't find purchase on her skin at all, and her voice made him want to crawl out of his skin. 

you were a bad habit he should break — at least that's what he tells himself to keep him sane.

taglist: @neochan, @ahncosette, @18shy @kittydollzz @jenoslutie @pussymode @yyfka @cheolctrl @jaeminsballs @mysummerhyuck @strawberrytyong @rosiejunnie @nctzen4eva @haechskies @wickedrei @sundamariis @simpforarmihn @liliansun @lanadreamie @nodisdino @angelwonie @foxydumps @manooffline @moonsmias @skzct7 @iscocohere @ficrecnctskz @smwhrinthehaze (sorry there were q a few i couldn't tag!)

[neochan-ficrecs]

oh my god? helloooo?? i love this hyuck 😋😋 jing ur a genius

haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | preview

teaser wc: 783 (angst, suggestive) full fic genre: angst, smut, fluff (10k+) a/n: SURPRISE & let me know what you think for this :) also lmk if you would like to be tagged... i'm so excited to write rockstar hyuck!!!

"did anyone follow you up here?" 

haechan sits with his legs hanging off the edge of the roof, arms slung over one of the lower rungs of the railing. he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes another drink from his bottle of red wine, knowing that you're hanging onto his every word.

"no," you reply, voice barely louder than a whisper. you repeat yourself again, louder, hating the way your voice shakes with hesitance. "no, i don't think so."

he exhales, shrugging off the leather jacket that hangs large over his frame, his shoulderblades moving under his white shirt, veiny arms pushing the bottle to the side as he shifts himself backwards fluidly so he's further away from the ledge, his long legs stretched out. 

"well?" and now he turns to look at you, dark eyes framed with makeup searching for yours, his gaze heavy. the piercing on his eyebrow glints in the moonlight, and when he leans his weight back on his hands, his shirt rides up so that you can see just the hint of a tattoo curling low on his hip. "are you ready?" 

feet unsteady, you shuffle over to him, standing over him as he watches you through hooded eyes. unsure, you start to sit down next to him, but a hand quickly reaches out to touch your knee, dragging his touch up the back of your thigh, the cold scrape of his rings on your skin feeling rough and claiming all at once. his lips part almost mockingly, commanding you without words to stop.

he flicks his gaze down to his lap, eyes flickering back up to yours. eyebrows raised, as if in a challenge.

slowly, you lower yourself onto his lap, hands hesitantly grasping for his shoulders. his arms come to steady your waist, slipping under your shirt and touching bare skin, feeling the way your body shifts and moves. and it's only because you're so pressed up against him, his hands roaming up and down your thighs, that he notices something which makes him halt his movements, licking his lips. 

"you're shaking," he murmurs, now brushing the hair out of your eyes, tucking a strand behind your ear as he studies you, taking in the way you're all tensed up, the uncomfortable way your legs are folded, goosebumps erupting every time his fingertips brushed your skin, muscles trembling.

you swallow. "i've never done this before," you admit. 

his eyes widen, now removing his hands from you entirely, letting them fall. "you're a virgin?" 

you nod, heart pounding in your chest. he's looking away, his jaw set, his gaze hardened. did he hate that you had no experience? or would he enjoy that? "i can…" the words come out in a jumble, "you can teach me, i want… i want to-" 

"no." with surprising gentleness, he motions for you to move off his lap, and you follow his actions mindlessly, docile under his hands. 

"do you think i won't be good enough?" you ask, hating the way your voice comes out wounded and achy, hating how weak he made you. 

he pauses, tongue poking into the side of his cheek, and you think you can see a flash of something deep in his eyes. 

"y/n…i can't be your first time." 

"but i want –" 

"you need to be with someone who will take care of you." despite his words, his voice is cold and clear. "i don't do that." he dusts off his jacket, shrugging it back on as he takes another drink from the bottle, eyes closed, unwilling to look at you for another second. "go home, y/n. i'll see you at the next show." 

you don't move. you kneel there, next to him, eyes desperately searching for his. 

"go home, y/n," he repeats, harshly. 

"i want to stay here," you bite back, stubbornly, hurt making your voice brittle. 

"then you'll have to watch me fuck someone else." lazily, he reaches into the pocket of his jacket for his phone, and you can see him scroll through his messages, faces and names blurring as you barely decipher him type out another message. his fingers move across the keyboard, as the anonymous responder sends a series of heart emojis, eagerness palpable through the screen.

he locks his phone, the click sound startling you out of your daze, and he puts it down on his lap, the action somehow mocking.

"so?" he's still not looking at you, staring straight ahead into the night. "do you want to watch?" 

and as you make your way down the stairs, shame burning at your neck and tears burning hot down your cheeks, you can swear you feel his eyes follow you all the way down. 

[neochan-ficrecs]

jaemin horny boyfriend texts pt. 2

pairings ⇢ bf!jaemin x gen!reader

warnings ⇢ suggestive/18+, mentioned (wax play, bottom!jaemin, filming during sex, toys, wax play, porn)

a/n ⇢ tried to make these a lil harder than the previous ʕᵔ ᴥ ᵔʔ

© tddyhyck

[neochan-ficrecs]

no joy in possession.

Warnings: slight (kinda large) mark/haechan interaction. Your boyfriend, Mark, thinks sharing is caring (lets his bestfriend do his girlfriend to make him feel better). 4k words, unedited. Mark/Reader/Haechan.

“You don’t have to put clothes on, it’s just Donghyuck,” Mark says, waving his hand. 

You pause your search for something more decent than your outfit of a huge t-shirt and panties. Friday nights usually entailed binging a new show and pigging out on pizza with Mark until you two were too tired to keep your eyes open. 

Donghyuck’s been invited over more and more recently though. He had a bad break up a little over a month ago. He hadn’t even seen it coming, from what Mark told you. And Mark’s told you a lot. 

“Just Donghyuck?” you question, shutting your drawer.

He blinks at you, shrugging. “I just want you to be comfortable around him is all. It’s our place.”

You could say after two years of dating Mark you’ve gotten pretty comfortable with Donghyuck. They’re childhood best friends. Their parents live next door to each other to this day. They’ve got matching scars on their knees. They even laugh the same sometimes. This doesn’t mean you’ve made it a habit of not at least wearing shorts underneath your knee length t-shirts even if you’re not wearing a bra when Donghyuck, or any of Mark’s friends, comes around. 

Mark’s a good boyfriend, awesome actually, but he’s a really good best friend, too. But lately, he’s been more than encouraging about you being able to walk around freely in your home, no matter if Donghyuck is here. It was cool at first, but it’s been weighing on you recently. 

Last Friday, Mark had gotten you flat on your bed after your shower, was about balls deep inside of you, and a minute away from giving both of you one of the quickest orgasms the two of you had gotten all week, when his phone started vibrating. It’s Donghyuck, Mark breathed before he picked up the phone, like it was supposed to make it any better. It wasn’t the first time Mark had taken a call in the middle of sex but it was the first time he’d been so obvious about what the two of you were doing during it. 

Tilting the receiver away from where he was panting hard into your mouth couldn’t have been enough for Donghyuck not to know what was happening, but he and Mark had a conversation about what beer he should buy before coming upstairs, like Mark wasn’t five seconds away from coming. 

It’s alright. Me and Donghyuck, Mark said against your lips after he hung up, his pelvis mashing against your clit, we share everything, babe. 

Does that mean you wanna share me too? You asked him. Mark’s wide eyes were still staring into yours as he came inside you with a thin exhale. He never gave you an answer but you knew it was more true than even Mark understood. 

“That’s him,” Mark says when the doorbell goes off, Donghyuck smashing it like he always does. Mark looks you up and down. “Come out like that, I’m okay with it.”

He leaves you in the room with that. 

… 

Donghyuck’s a good friend too. He buys Mark’s favorite beer and your favorite snacks and he cooks even if he doesn’t crash on the couch. He’s tried not to mope too much about his break up in front of you, but you could hear him murmuring about it with Mark in the kitchen while he cooked some nights, his soft voice carrying over the sizzle of the pan. 

Tonight is different. Donghyuck brings the beer and the snacks and he cooks, but you catch Mark whispering in his ear at the dinner table after you get a couple of cups from the overhead cabinet, Donghyuck’s eyes just flitting away from your back when you turn around. There’s less of their usual banter at the table, their eyes meeting for longer, at a standstill about something you’re not privy to. 

On the couch, the only light coming from the tv, things are a little better. 

You’ve got your toes tucked underneath Donghyuck’s thighs, a blanket draped across your folded up knees, leaning back into Mark’s side. It’s comfortably warm between them. They’ve been laughing some at the movie at least. It’s not how they might be overdoing it normally, slapping each other over or around you at something not that funny, or disregarding the movie for their own jokes, or crowding around you during a horror movie. 

Mark seems cozy this far into the comedy you put on, one of his hands resting on your sternum, thumb brushing the base of your throat or your chin unconsciously from time to time. When you look over at Donghyuck he’s got his arms crossed, hood up over his mussed hair, thighs politely spread. Not his usual space-hogging. 

You noticed a long time ago, how pretty Donghyuck is. It’s hard not to clock it. The soft slope of his nose balanced out by the pout of his lips, the bored set of his eyes from the side. He and Mark can go toe-to-toe in the looks department. Donghyuck double takes when he catches you looking, smiling gently at you before he turns back towards the tv. 

It’s then that Mark’s hand slowly slips away from the loose grip it had around your throat, skimming over your sternum, fingers dipping in the space between your breasts. It could’ve been an accident if he didn’t linger. And if he didn’t keep doing it; the weight of his hand getting heavier with each pass, your nipples hardening underneath your t-shirt from the anticipation. Mark’s started off slow plenty of times, acting sly to get in your pants when he doesn’t even have to ask. It would be fine, more than welcome, if Donghyuck wasn’t sitting right there, staring hard at the tv. 

“Mark,” you whisper harshly, louder than you meant to, when Mark tries to sneak his hand down the neck of your shirt. 

Donghyuck is still, arms crossed, his thighs tense where your toes are beneath them, jaw bunching with the clench of his teeth as he looks straight ahead. No matter how low your voice, he would’ve heard you. He could clearly see Mark trying to cop a feel from his periphery, although he’d given no real indication besides trying to act like he couldn’t. The thought of him willing to sit there while the two of you continue—it has your clit bleeding a druggy pulse to the rest of your cunt. 

 It’s like Mark knows this, leaning down to your ear where your head has slid down near his armpit. 

“C’mon, he hasn’t gotten any in a minute, babe,” Mark says, voice raspy with faux concern. “You could help him out.”

Donghyuck grows more tense, if possible, shoulders drawing up towards his ears when your eyes flick towards him. But he says nothing. When you look up at Mark, his eyes are already glassy in the dark, parted lips glossed by the light of the tv. This is what Mark must’ve whispered to him about earlier. Or who knows how long this has been an idea for them. 

The blanket covering your knees begins to slip away, the fuzziness tickling your legs. Mark’s still watching you, giving you those big, moony eyes, like he’s begging you to do Donghyuck a lifesaving favor. It sends your heart thumping in your chest, that the favor would be letting Donghyuck have you in whatever way Mark lets him. 

Like you said, Donghyuck’s a good friend to Mark. And he’s easy on the eyes. 

You face away again and snuggle back into him slightly. Mark’s fist drags the blanket off of you gently and drapes it over the back of the couch, leaving your legs exposed. Your calves don’t do much to shield your underwear, bent knees pressing together at the fresh air brushing over them. Mark doesn’t seem to want them to, fingertips dimpling the fat at the inner junction of one of your knees as he spreads it out.

“Just relax, baby,” Mark says, rubbing four fingers over your pussy through your panties, making you light up warm, whimpering a little. 

You catch Donghyuck trying, and failing, not to look at the valley of your cunt through your panties, nose flaring as Mark’s thumb circles your clit, making the shape of it obvious through the cotton. His middle finger slips down your slit, pressing the pad against your weeping hole, wetting the fabric. It’s a skill, being able to work you up this quick. 

Donghyuck gives up when Mark shifts your panties to the side, head turning to face you completely with wide eyes as Mark tucks and folds the damp cotton to the right. Your heart pounds as Donghyuck’s eyes zip along the length of you, committing it to memory for the first time ever. Mark pats your bare pussy barely-there, like a brand new car. 

“Take a good look at her, Donghyuck,” Mark rasps, forcing a gasp from you as his thumb fiddles lightly with your engorged clit. “Told you she’s got a pretty clit. So easy for me and you to suck on.”

The words zing along your entire body, thighs twitching closed, toes curling against Donghyuck’s thigh. Mark’s talked about this with him before—about your pussy. Donghyuck sucks on both his lips, a little guilty. He nods though. 

Mark uses two fingers to spread your lips open wide, your hole making an embarrassing, soppy sound. “Look at that, man. Love that color, the noises it makes when I get it wet.”

The need that creates within you makes your hips buck, wanting Mark–or one of them–to start getting you off. Donghyuck’s arms are still crossed but he’s sunken into the couch, mouth open a little. When you look down, he’s already growing hard in his sweats, just from watching your pussy get toyed with. 

Mark gathers a little slick from your hole, teasing at it, and spreads all the way up on either side of your clit, rubbing it gently after. Your shirt gets pulled up, Mark taking the hem all the way up to your throat, exposing the spill of your breasts to Donghyuck’s hungry eyes. 

“Go ahead,” Mark says to Donghyuck from behind you. “You can play with her, dude.”

Donghyuck looks down at you, nervous, but you let your feet splay out wider, tucking one into the cushions of the back of the couch. He scooches closer, reaching out to feel at one of your breasts. His hand is balmy, big with wide palms and knobby fingertips. He passes his thumb over your nipple reverently, eyebrows raising in awe when it pebbles up immediately. Mark’s hand grips softly at your other tit, squeezing it between his thumb and index casually. 

Donghyuck gets in between your legs, twisted at the waist, to get the tit Mark’s holding in his mouth. You groan, his soft mouth wrapping around you as Mark breathes out a yeah, squeezing harder, fitting more of you between Donghyuck’s lips. He switches over to the other quickly, brushing kisses across your chest. His tongue laves over your nipple inside his mouth, lips making a skipping sound as he suckles too hard, eyes closed. This is the first time he’s been so close, the short fan of his lashes visible, lips puckered around your nipple. 

“Shit,” he mutters when he lets your nipple go, eyes weighed. 

Donghyuck shifts down the couch as he kisses along your body, hands skating your sides, breathing harshly into your skin. Mark’s thumb is spreading Donghyuck’s spit over your nipple distractedly as he watches. Your pussy throbs when Donghyuck’s warm breath washes over it, shouldering between your legs, so ready for him to use his mouth. But he hesitates, looking up. Not at you, past you. 

“Can I?” he asks Mark. Asking for Mark’s permission to your body instead of your own. 

“Go for it,” Mark answers, a smile in his voice. 

You’ve slid almost flat on the length of the couch, knees still bent, but able to prop yourself up on one elbow to watch Donghyuck hold your panties completely out of the way before digging in. The first long, lap of his tongue along your pussy punches a breath out of you, stomach tightening. He does it twice then takes your clit between his lips carefully, feeding the ache. 

“Here,” Mark says, sliding against the back of the couch to guide Donghyuck’s head further down. “Yeah, get at her there before her clit.”

It’s hot, watching Mark coach Donghyuck through eating you out properly. Donghyuck splits you open with both thumbs on either side of your lips, trying to stuff his slippery tongue inside of you with Mark’s hand on the back of his head. You can’t resist rolling your hips into his face, panting at the fat slip of his tongue and his breath washing over you. Mark grabs him by the hair, pulling him back towards your clit. He angles Donghyuck’s head to the side, just enough so that Donghyuck’s lips wrap around the entirety of it, suckling wetly. It makes you cry out, rutting up, forcing his face flat into you.  

“That’s it, that’s how she likes it sucked,” Mark praises. He sounds winded. 

Donghyuck knocks away Mark’s hand after a bit, burying his face into your pussy with his eyebrows knitted together, slurping at you. Mark can get sloppy when he eats you out, enthusiastic and making needy noises. But Donghyuck keeps at it with precision, tinny moans leaving him when you hump his face, wanting to feel the softness of his nose bump your clit as he licks at your entrance. 

“Wanna fuck her, Donghyuck?” Mark asks suddenly, like he’s unsure of what Donghyuck’s answer will be. 

Your head snaps up to look at him. You’re more than willing to let Donghyuck do it at the moment, honestly, but you’re a little surprised that Mark’s the one who asked. Mark isn’t one to like other men speaking to you in little more than a friendly manner, but he smiles down at you, reassuring, before looking back at where Donghyuck’s come up for air. 

“Would she—would that be okay? With you, Y/N?” Donghyuck asks, kind of shy with your slick shining around his mouth. He bites at his lip, eyes bouncing from your face to your breasts. 

“If Mark’s fine with it, I am, too,” you answer. You reach, hesitant, to run your fingers through his hair for the first time, smiling a little at how he closes one eye as your thumb runs over his eyebrow. 

“I’m cool with it,” Mark murmurs, shifting behind you so he can lean down and kiss at your ear. “Go ahead.”

Donghyuck gets up from the couch to speed-shed his clothes. Mark leans over your shoulder to suck leisurely at one of your nipples upside down, his other hand slithering down to play with the other, pinching and rolling it between his fingertips. You card your fingers through his hair as you watch Donghyuck unzip his hoodie and toss it. 

“You good?” Mark mumbles, kissing a path up your chest as much as he can. 

“Yeah, you?” you answer, leaning your head against his. 

You can’t see it, but from the way he’s licking against your throat he must be hard as fuck, humming an mh-hm.  Donghyuck’s sheds his shirt and shirks off his sweatpants, tossing them into the dark. The movie continues playing, flashing colors over Donghyuck’s body. He palms at himself through his tented boxers for a second, looking at the two of you, before reaching into the gap to pull himself out, intending to fuck you like that. 

“Take those off, since you got undressed to fuck my girlfriend anyways,” Mark snorts, sitting back up. “She doesn’t wanna feel those, dude.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, a hint of his embarrassment playing out across his face still, as he slowly climbs out of his underwear. He lets those hit the floor more carefully than the rest of his clothes. He’s lanky all over, long legs, arms, fingers, gentler edges than Mark. Like this it's easy to see that he’s good and hard. Him and Mark are around the same length; him a little longer, Mark a little thicker, but he’s uncircumcised. The skin peels back as he strokes himself, beading wet at the tip as he comes to kneel on the couch. 

Your pussy pulses excitedly, wanting him closer, wanting to know what he’ll feel like. Mark drags you up by your armpits to put your head and the top of your shoulders directly in his lap, a surprised grunt leaving you as you look up at him. The heat of his cock brushes your cheek through his sweatpants, he must be hurting some at the very least. 

“Shouldn’t I get a condom?” Donghyuck asks quietly. 

You look back at him. You’re on birth control. Donghyuck knows this after you showed him the mile long pamphlet of side effects a few months ago. Whether or not he should get to experience you without a barrier is another question. 

“I know he’s clean,” Mark tells you, stroking your cheek with a knuckle. “If it’s him, if you’re okay with it, I’m cool with him going raw.”

Mark’s words spread over you. We share everything. As far as you’ve known, they’ve never done this together. But the way Donghyuck climbs over you after you agree, unafraid of being so close to his best friend while he gets ready to have sex with his girlfriend, would convince you otherwise. 

Donghyuck hovers over your face in Mark’s lap, looking up at him only once before he’s slowly leaning in to kiss you. Your heart feels like it’s about to come out of your throat, watching Donghyuck swoop in, his eyes closing, before your lips finally press together. He’s soft; his lips, the touch of tongue against your mouth, the sigh he lets out through his nose as your mouths mold together, as easy as you and Mark. 

The thought makes you whine and squeeze your knees around Donghyuck’s waist, still keeping his hips away. 

Mark’s hand trailing down your stomach surprises you, going for your pussy. Donghyuck pulls away to get up on one hand to watch, hanging his head. Two of Mark’s fingers make a V, sliding down to part your sticky lips wide. 

“She’s set deep, keeps you sucked up in there tight,” Mark says, he and Donghyuck almost face to face, looking at each other. “You might not wanna pull out once you’re in her. Take it from me.”

“Yeah? So if I come in her?” Donghyuck teases breathily, gripping the base of his cock and rubbing the head along your folds. 

Your knees relax completely outward, your pussy throbbing wildly, the most important point on your body at the moment. Mark cackles. 

“I dunno, it’s your kid then,” he jokes. 

Donghyuck manages a choked laugh with him, breaking off into a moan when the tip of him catches eagerly against your entrance. You don’t laugh with them, pressing up into Mark’s fingers still holding you open, against the slip of Donghyuck’s cock. 

“She’s so wet,” Donghyuck mutters, his cheeks ruddy. 

“Come on, try her out,” Mark whispers, his fingers trembling. 

Neither one of them knows how much they’re giving you right now, feeding each other back and forth this way. And not to mention how much you’re giving them, connecting them like this. 

Mark swings his other arm over, stretching to reach, to guide Donghyuck to you, into you. He breaches you with a hiccup, thick at the head, all three of you looking down at where he’s disappearing inside your pussy with Mark’s oversight. Your eyes flutter, nearly rolling back, as Donghyuck’s heat combines with yours, leaving your pussy thumping hot as he bottoms out with a deep, guttural groan. 

They feel almost the same, Mark’s fingers still spreading your lips open needlessly, framing Donghyuck’s girth stretching you out. Donghyuck’s circling his hips inside of you before Mark can pull his hand out the way, head thrown back. 

“Okay, baby?” Mark asks you, hand brushing across your forehead. 

You nod, your body melting everywhere but where Donghyuck is, wanting to keep him in you even as he tries rocking his hips back. He flattens himself over you, hovering over your face again as he works up a steady rhythm. 

The wet slapping sounds of him fucking you eggs him on, kissing you sloppily and hurrying his rhythm to a deep pound. You make small noises into his mouth as he reaches back with both hands, damp palms keeping your knees spread far as he fucks into you as much as he can bear. 

“Told you you needed this, didn’t I?” Mark is saying from above, petting the back of Donghyuck’s head as he goes at it. “That Y/N would get you right.”

Donghyuck's only answer is a high, stuttered affirmative cry, shoving his face into your neck. 

“I know your ex can’t even compare,” Mark continues. 

You wrap your arms around Donghyuck’s back as he nails you to the couch, your panting coming fast little chirps, your insides bearing down around Donghyuck’s cock. He presses against your clit every so often, his feet finding leverage against the couch to grind against you. The rush of it is obvious, both of you clinging to each other, Donghyuck’s hips tugging back like your cunt is giving him trouble pulling out, groaning weakly beside your ear. 

You have to reach between your bodies to really rub at your clit when it becomes too much, Mark pulling his dick out his sweats in your periphery, right beside your faces, jerking off like he needs to come just as bad as you do. Maybe worse. 

“Not gonna help her come, Donghyuck?” Mark grits out, thumbing his tip. 

Before Donghyuck can answer, slowing down with a short moan, you cut in. “You said it’s been awhile since he’s gotten some. He should just enjoy it.” 

Mark pauses, his own words catching up to him, and Donghyuck laughs tightly. His hips roll steadily, not as desperate as a minute ago, but reaching deeper, anchoring, pulling away, then sinking back in hard, just to do it again. Mark’s arm reaches between both of your bodies, over your shoulder, to rub his thumb over your fat, sensitive clit. Slow and digging in his inner-knuckle into one side so the bottom of your stomach feels like it’s falling in. 

Donghyuck kisses you hotly, feeding you tongue, all of it feeling intimate–too intimate. 

“Makin’ her pussy so tight,” Donghyuck whispers hoarsely to Mark, right into your mouth. “Fuck, I think she’s gonna make me come.”

Donghyuck fucks into you harder, forces your breath to hitch as he lets his need dictate his pace now, still trying to kiss you. Mark’s fingers work your clit just as slow but he pinches it between his thumb and forefinger, inescapable, making you whimper beneath Donghyuck’s onslaught. 

“Is it alright if I come inside, or…?” Donghyuck croaks, getting up on his elbows. 

“Yes,” you breathe quickly, your thighs beginning to shake. Mark’s harsh panting doesn’t pause, he doesn’t refuse. 

A bright heat spreads from your clit, like your entire core might overheat, both of them getting you there in tandem. You cross your ankles around Donghyuck’s hips, like you do with Mark, unwilling to let him come anywhere except inside of you. They share everything, like Mark said, so Donghyuck should get this too, shouldn’t he? So he can know what Mark feels. 

“Show him, baby, c’mon,” Mark coos down at you, his cheeks red above Donghyuck’s head. Both of their eyes are on you, wild. “Let that pussy make him come.”

It almost hurts, gripping around Donghyuck’s cock as you finish, crying out as he fucks you through it and Mark doesn’t let up. Donghyuck’s hips shove into you, flattening you to the couch as he starts coming into the back of your cunt like he’s your boyfriend, simpering into your neck with the force of it. You keep him close, fluttering around his throbbing cock, letting him rock into you until he’s heaving a sigh. 

His weight is warm on top of you, your ears filled with white noise. You can feel him starting to grow soft in you. 

“That was fucking–”

“Donghyuck,” Mark’s strained voice interrupts, the slick of him stripping of his dick urgent. “Move if you don’t want me to nut on your face too.”

As soon as Donghyuck rises up on his hands, you see Mark towering above you, one knee on the couch, shorts and boxers pulled beneath his tight sac, his cock flushed an angry red. 

“Open,” he commands, soft as possible, and slides a hand under the back of your neck, knocking your head back. 

Thick warmth hits your bottom lip, smacks the roof of your mouth, and then your chin as Mark groans loudly. The last, long sprays splatter over your tits, Mark’s hand slipping from underneath your neck. A mouth, not Mark’s, suckles over one of your come-soaked nipples, tongue laving over it leisurely. Mark sits back with a whispered, fuck. 

Donghyuck laps at your breast and then his face is above you, lips wet. Mark’s come is still sitting in your mouth, mixing with your saliva. Donghyuck leans down to get his share of that, too, cupping the side of your face as he licks into your mouth gently. Maybe now they can say they’ve shared everything. Almost. 

“Mark,” you call softly, tilting your head back to look at him, where he’s watching Donghyuck lick down your chin and neck, cleaning after his mess with wide eyes. 

Donghyuck’s softness slips out of you and a hot trail of his come starts sliding out after him. If they’re meant to share everything, Mark can do this. 

“There’s some of him down here for you two to share,” you tell him, spreading your knees out wide. 

Donghyuck starts slithering down your body first, slow, as he laps up some more of Mark’s come from your other breast. He’ll get there first. 

“Okay.” Mark nods, doesn’t move, watching. “I’ll let him get comfortable first.”

Mark gets there, eventually, with Donghyuck leaving enough of his come inside of you to go around for the both of them. 

[neochan-ficrecs]

had a dream i was part of an idol group and we were very close to stray kids. me n felix had a fwb situation going on but i had the biggest crush on chan :( omg we were all getting ready for an awards show and felix kept drooling over my outfit which was like this red corset thing and white skirt (i’d never wear that irl) and chan was nowhere to be found so i kept roaming the halls looking for him but the staff told me “we’re not getting him. male and female idol groups aren’t allowed to mingle during the show”

[neochan-ficrecs]

mark horny boyfriend texts

parings ⇢ bf!mark x afab!reader

warnings ⇢ suggestive/18+

© tddyhyck

[neochan-ficrecs]

BANGCHAN DRABBLE !

pairings. bangchan x fem!reader

🔖: established relationship, blowjobs, dirty talk

authors note ! i was reading a post (it might've been either svt or txt i can't remember) and i got inspired by the topic.

"hyung , can i use that hair tie on your wrist?" chan looked down at his wrist , taking it off, handing it to felix. "why do you always keep a hair tie on your wrist in the first place?" shaking his head , he spoke "no reason." he hoped felix didn't see the blush on his face — the only reason why he wore the hairtie was because of you...

"babygirl , come." he turned in his chair , beckoning you over. you got off the bed , making your way over to him. "on your knees baby." you complied , getting on your knees. "good girl." he gathered all your hair , taking the hairtie from his wrist , tying your hair up. "need a break , gonna be a good girl and suck my cock?" you nodded , looking up at him through your lashes.

he freed himself from his shorts , you held his heavy cock in your hands , kissing his tip , before taking him into your mouth. "fu-fuck that's it princess , your mouth feels so fucking good." he groaned.

you bobbed your head up and doesn't his shaft , gagging around his length. "oh fu-fuck baby." he pushed your head down , throwing his head back as your gurgled around his cock , drool dripping from your lips. "making such a mess , shit! "

you ran your tongue along the vein of his cock , he pushed your head down. "fu-fuck do it again." you listened , he groaned , letting your head go. "fu-fuck baby , im gonna fucking cum." he moaned , "gonna let me cum on your face?" you hummed around his cock , taking what you couldn't fit , jerking him off.

"fuck , im cumming! " he pulled out , his cum shooting from his cock , on to your face. "ngh , so fucking good." he bit down his lip , using his thumb to scoop the cum from your cheek , pushing it into your mouth.

"good girl , get up here." he helped you up , you straddled his lap. "i'm not done with you baby , i'm still stressed , how about you ride my cock?" he rubbed your ass.

"hyung?" felix knocked the boy out of his dirty thought. "you okay , you kinda zoned out?" he nodded , "lix im fine , let's get back to practicing." he waited for the boy to turn around , before fixing his now hard cock in his shorts.

he couldn't wait to come home to you — he needed to make sure he got that hairtie back from felix...

©️LUVYENI

[neochan-ficrecs]

nct dream reaction :: dirty texts

𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗗? 〚YES〛/ 〚𝗡𝗢✗〛 ⟶ requests are closed.

©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

[neochan-ficrecs]

Killshot | L.DH

PAIRING: Lee Donghyuck x fem!reader

WORDCOUNT: 2740

GENRE: Enemies to lovers, and college!au

SUMMARY: It seems as though you and Donghyuck could never get along until the green-eyed monster decided to give the two of you a helping hang.

WARNINGS: Donghyuck is an asshole, bathroom sex, counter sex, exhibitionism (kinda), unprotected sex, the pull out method (please don't do this), teasing, praise, confessions, implied established realtionship at the end, and a bit of fluff!

"LAST AGAIN?"

His voice was like nails to a chalkboard, the smugness in his voice causing your eye to twitch, the hand that was clutching your paper with a big fat 50% on it being crushed under its weight.

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you roll your eyes with a scowl, but he made it hard to ignore when he used words like 'last,' like there was some kind of hierarchy of test scores. "Shut it Donghyuck." You gritted out, your hands clenched into fists in an effort to keep them at bay so your pencil wouldn't do any damage.

He just laughed.

Oh God, that laugh. That annoying fucking obnoxious, condescending, infuriating laugh. You'd rather take on a million monsters with your bare hands than deal with this asshole. You didn't need to look at him to know that he was smirking, clearly enjoying the dismay written all over your face. He was sadistic like that… at least to you.

He was kind to his classmates and friends, it was just you that he relentlessly teased, that he always had something to say to, and you would be lying if you said you didn't wonder what it was like to be on his sweet side. Sadly, the only thing he's ever had to offer you was his not-so-needed sarcasm and occasional academic advice— which you hadn't asked for, by the way.

You hadn't realized that you were glaring holes at the dark red pen ink, the numbers coaxing you to get lost in your head until your friend, Yerim, called your name. She knew what was wrong, it was written all over your face, but she still tried to pull you away from the spiraling anger building inside of you. With her arm around your shoulder, she gave it a squeeze, meeting your eyes with her own, which was swimming with concern.

"Are you okay?" She questioned softly, but as you turned your head away from her, they guided her to the man that was the cause of your displeasure. "Donghyuck again, huh?" She asked again. It wasn't really a question, seeming as though she already had her answer. She always did.

Yerim had always stuck by your side, ever since freshman year when you got lost on your way to class. It didn't take a ridiculous amount of time for her to become your other half, as though your brains were telepathically linked; or maybe you knew each other in another life. Either way, she always knew how you felt or what you needed, the girl extremely in tune with your body language and aura.

"It's like he thinks that he's better than me just because he knows what he's doing." You gritted out. Yerim sighed, nibbling on her lower lip in thought. "You already know that's not true, so I don't know why you allow him to get to you."

You could lie and say why you didn't know why his words affected you the way they did, but it was that gnawing feeling in your gut whenever you'd see him, when you were able to see him smile when he hangs out with his friends, that butterflies in your stomach when you'd hear his laugh. And you hated yourself for it.

"I just—" Before you could complete your sentence, another body joined the conversation.

"Ah! You did better than me!" Jaemin's voice chimed enthusiastically. Jaemin was new to your school, and he had somehow managed to worm his way into your duo.

You raised a brow, "You got lower than fifty percent?" He put his test on your desk, and in the right hand corner there was a thirty-five percent. You gawked at his score. "How'd you manage that?!" You asked incredulously. His smile never faltered, "Well… I kind of fell asleep the first thirty minutes of the test." You couldn't help but laugh at his thoughtlessness.

Though you were distracted by the boy with a low score, you hadn't seen the way Donghyuck was glaring, not at you, but at Jaemin.

"I knew I should have sat by you." You said to yourself. He threw a leg over the seat in front of you, his chest pressed up against the plastic headrest. With crossed arms, he looked up at you through his eyelashes.

"Where would I be without having you to keep me in line." He teased with a tilt of his head. Jaemin had always been flirtatious, it just came naturally to him; in all honesty, he probably wasn't even aware that he was doing it.

"Shut up." You said with a smile, pushing him back with a soft shove. The blonde's head lifted, but his eyes never strayed away from you. With another wave of your hand and an expectant look on your face, he turned around, and class resumed.

It was a grueling hour before you were finally free; Yerim, Jaemin, and you were walking side by side.

"So…" Jaemin began, "There's this party that I'm throwing, and I want you to come." Your eyebrows furrowed at the invitation. Parties aren't really your thing, but it wasn't like you haven't attended one before, plus, it was Jaemin, so why not?

"Sure," You said with a shrug, "Why not?" The grin on his place was pretty much shit-eating. "Would you like to go too, Yerim?" He asked. She just shook her head, waving her hand back and forth. "No thank you, I'm taking my girlfriend out on a date today!" She said excitedly.

You smiled at the girl as Jaemin nodded understandingly. "Well, I guess that leaves the two of us, huh? I'll see you tonight then!"

He waved the both of you goodbye, going off somewhere to the left as Yerim brought your attention back to her.

"So any outfit ideas for the party?" You shook your head no, "Nah, I figured I'd just go in casual, y'know?" It was almost as if the words that came out of your mouth offended her. "Absolutely not!" She exclaimed. "You don't know if there's going to be hot guys there, and I am not going to allow you to look like a hot mess just because you think you have nothing to prove."

You knew you could do nothing but oblige to her demands, groaning out a weak 'fine', internally knowing you had your night cut out for you.

You almost hated to say it, but you were quite impressed with the outfit she had managed to squeeze you in; a light weight dress with some heels that you could manage to walk in, your makeup natural but charming.

"You know you look good. Admit it, I did a fantastic job." She gushed. You rolled your eyes light-heartedly. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" You asked. That seemed to pull her head out of her ass because her eyes widened at the numbers on her phone. "Yes I do, but this isn't over and you know it. I'll be back home later to hear about how everyone complimented my expertise."

"Shut up and go." You groaned, lightly shoving her out of the room as she giggled.

You unsurely looked in the mirror, your body turned to the side as you ran your hands down the front of your dress. You looked nice, and there was no point in backing out now.

The house was booming with people, almost the whole school was there, and the inside wasn't any better; loud music, the stench of alcohol, weed, and sex permeated the air. It was suffocating really, but you stuck to searching for Jaemin amongst the sea of people.

You didn't have to search for long, because a thick hand placed itself on your shoulder.

"I'm glad you could make it." He said against the shell of your ear. You shivered, turning around with a smile on your face. "I told you I would, didn't I?" You teased.

"Do you want a drink?" He asked. You nodded, "That would be great, thanks." With that, he left, leaving you to your own devices as you looked around you.

There were cheap decorations on the wall, but since the lights were off, there were different colored lights that decorated the space.

Then, your breath caught in your throat.

Donghyuck was sitting on the couch, a girl sitting on his lap as she giggled at something he said. He wasn't even that funny, so what was there to laugh about. You didn't know why you felt like this, why your stomach twisted at the sight of them, why there was a bitter taste in your mouth, why the words 'I wish that was me' were making their way up to the forefront of your mind.

"I had to look around but I managed to find a bottle that—"

"Dance with me." You suddenly said.

"What?" His brows furrowed.

"I said," You took the red solo cup out of his hand, "Dance with me." He gulped, allowing his fingers to loosen so he could put it on the white fold out table, pushing some scattered chips out of the way.

"Okay." He agreed dumbly.

Dragging him by his wrist, you pulled him into the crowd of people, placing his hands on your waist. You shouldn't be doing this, Jaemin was your friend, friends don't get this close to others friends.

With your arms thrown around his neck, you swayed with him to the music, no space between the both of you as you looked over his shoulder.

Donghyuck.

There was anger in his eyes, his attention completely snatched away from the girl on his lap as she practically begged for it back. You couldn't help but feel pleased at his anger, finally feeling like you had gotten him back for what he had said to you earlier.

As the song finally came to close, Jaemin lowered his chin, his eyes boring into your soul. You knew he wanted to kiss you, but you looked down at his shirt, putting some distance between the two of you.

"That was fun." You said awkwardly. He cleared his throat. "Yeah…" He said, "It was." You couldn't look at him, not with the shame bubbling in your gut. "I um, I have to go to the bathroom." You took off down the hallway and into the nearest restroom.

Shutting the door, you balanced yourself on your hands that sat on the sink counter, staring at yourself in the mirror.

What were you thinking acting like some lovesick fool?

What pulled you out of your berating thoughts was someone attempting to open the door.

"Shit! It's occupied!" You said loudly. The person didn't say anything, opening the door.

"Donghyuck?" You questioned, your brows furrowing in confusion, but also shock. "What the fuck was that?" He bit. Now, it was your turn to be angry. "What was what?" Shutting the door behind him, he stalked towards you until your back hit the wall.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He leaned closer to your face, your breaths intermingling as your chest rose and fell. "Did you want to piss me off, huh? Was that it? Did you want to get a reaction out of me by dancing with him?" His voice got deeper with every accusation, your thighs clenching at the sound of it. You wanted to overthink, but you refused.

"So what if I did? Since I'm always last, you wouldn't dance with girls like me anyways, right?" You prodded, leaning your head to the side as a signal of a challenge.

"Who said I wouldn't?"

And with that, he finally closed the distance between the two of you. His hands were fast to land on your hips as did yours, which tangled themselves into his dark brown locks. The kiss was fast and messy, desperate hands holding onto the other as you whimpered. He was unrelenting in his quest to dominate your lips, his tongue brushing against yours in a soft caress.

God, he was such a good kisser.

With a firm grip on your hips, he spun you around, the counter making contact with your lower back. Breaking the kiss, your lungs begged for air as you breathed heavily. His large palms cupped the backs of your thighs, lifting you up so that you were now sitting on the marble.

"Tell me when to stop." He huffed. "Absolutely not." You said, dragging him back into a kiss as he smirked into it.

He hiked up your dress, his fingers scaling up the sides of your legs until they met with the band of your underwear. "Lace." He hummed, "Nice touch." He spoke against you. "Thank Yerim for that." He nodded, "Will do."

You lifted your hips up so that he could pull them off, the man discarding them haphazardly on the floor.

Your hands trailed down his shoulders, down his chest, to the hem of his shirt where you lifted it up. He didn't protest, allowing you to pull the offending item up and over his head, throwing it to the ground as well. "I always knew you looked hot under your clothes." You murmured. Looking up at him, you were met with an incredulous look. "What?" You questioned. "I'm only human." He let out what sounded between a scoff and a chuckle.

"Whatever."

You finally unlooped his belt, tugging his pants down just enough so you could pull him out of his boxers.

He hissed as you stroked his cock, teasing the head of it, you spread his precum around his tip before finally guiding it towards your entrance.

You buried your head in his neck as he entered you, your nails raked themselves down the expanse of his back, pulling a pained groan from him. Thank God for the music, because if it weren't for that, everyone could hear you.

"Donghyuck." You moaned as he had begun to subtly move. He was an asshole, but he wasn't a monster, he had allowed you to get used to him before he had begun to thrust.

"Fuck." He grunted as his hips met the inside of your thighs. The pleasure was greater than anything you've felt before, even with your last partners. Now you finally understood why that girl on his lap wanted his attention so badly.

"So good." You whined, your head falling back. He took advantage of your barren neck, latching his teeth to your pulse point. He left hickies all along the column of your throat, the nibbling setting your veins on fire.

"'Always wanted to do this." He groaned.

You could feel him getting closer and closer to his orgasm, his movements growing quicker and sloppier.

"Donghyuck…" You breathed, unable to form coherent words anymore, your entire body shaking with the intensity of it all. He pulled back from your neck, his mouth searching for yours once more, sucking on your bottom lip roughly. Your head swam as you tried to keep yourself upright, your hands gripping tightly on his biceps.

"Fuck baby.." He whispered as he rested his forehead on yours, his breathing heavy. A hand left the side of your body to begin stimulating your clit, his thumbs moving it in tight circles. Your entire body jerked involuntarily, if it weren't for him standing in front of you, you for sure would've flown off the counter.

You couldn't keep yourself silent, your moans mixing with the music playing from outside of the door, and Donghyuck wasn't in too hot of a position either.

"You're okay," he cooed softly, the tone almost hypnotic. "You're doing great." As he kept murmuring praises, you realized you had never imagined you would ever be akin to his kind words.

Feeling your climax nearing, your legs wrapped themselves tighter around him, your lower half grinding yourself against his pelvis.

With one last push, he quickly pulled out before releasing on your stomach, letting go of you with a gasp and a moan. Your whole body shuddered as you caught your breath, panting. You collapsed onto him, and held you close, burying his nose into your hair and kissing your temple lightly.

There were a few beats of silence, both of you taking a moment to wrap around the sudden drastic change in your relationship.

"I suppose this doesn't mean I'm last again?" You asked, your words teasing.

"No," He said with a smile. "Definitely not."

[neochan-ficrecs]

nct dream reaction :: they're jealous

𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗗? 〚YES〛/ 〚𝗡𝗢✗〛 ⟶ requests are closed.

𝗔𝗡| this is a text version, something new.

©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

[neochan-ficrecs]

i am half awake but i just woke up to tell you guys that i had a dream of a threesome with renjun and hyuck. and oh em gee!!! we were on the couch of their dorm and i was kissing all over them and touching renjuns abs (he was so shy!!!!!) i was situated on hyucks lap though and jun goes “i don’t think you can take us both… like physically. how are we gonna do this”. so i just slid my hand down both of their chests and started palming them through their pants.

eventually i took them out and started stroking them and guys! hyuck came all! over! my! hand!!!!! and renjun is sitting there in awe, watching it happen >< confused bc yeah it feels good but, cumming alr? just from my hand? but i can remember every detail!!! hyuck kept bucking his hips into my fist, eyes shut, slightly whimpering. his bangs were matted to his forehead. he didn’t say anything when he was finishing. me and renjun just looked down and watched it happen but afterward he felt so so guilty and embarrassed!!

renjun went ”already dude?” and hyuck just told him to shut up!!!

so anyways i climb over into renjuns lap abt to show him a good time but the door swings open and people walk in and just stare at us and i go “oops. get out. give me ten minutes.”

and then my alarm woke me up :( but i called out of work bc my throat is badly swollen and i don’t feel good (allergies ew) so yeah definitely will be writing today!!! a little bit at least!