#renjun chaptered | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrkis · 11 months

Text

the way life goes — six(final). (n.jm)

PAIRING: na jaemin x reader GENRE: angst, fluff, smut, college au WORD COUNT: 18.5k

SYNOPSIS: it's crazy how everything had came to be in your life, you didn't expect anything to happen the way it did. but you suppose that's the way life goes.

CHAPTERS WARNINGS: absolute mess and head fuck as twlg always is, angsty just how i like it, mentions of heavy emotions, dumb reader and jaemin moments, eunbin and jaemin moments, mentions of alcohol and weed, explicit language (a lot of cursing), kissing, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex,

[series m.list]

Jaemin sleeps soundly for the first time that night.

He would argue that it’s probably the best sleep he’s had in ages—covered in blankets, wrapped up in your arms with his head resting on your chest, legs tangled together… he felt at peace.

He’s pretty sure he dreamt for the first time too. No recurring nightmares appearing or dreamless nights where he wakes up groggy, confused and lonely.

He dreamt. He dreamt of him, he dreamt of you. You looked so pretty—you always look pretty. You were smiling, you were laughing all while holding onto his arm and pointing at the sky. The sun was setting; a mixture of yellows, oranges and pinks. It would’ve been a beautiful picture to capture, especially with your silhouette in the shot.

The group were there too, running across that sand barefooted, screaming and shouting as the cold sea came to shore. But he wasn’t focused on them. He has his eyes set on you.

But, much to his dismay, he wakes up before he can even finish the dream, and he wakes up alone.

His hand runs across the bed, a frown settling on his features at the cold touch of the sheets pricks his fingertips. Jaemin lifts himself up on his elbows as he stares at the empty spot with fuzzy vision, hair sticking in different directions and muscles aching.

You’ve been out of bed for a while, He thinks while he sits up, sleeping rubbing at his face as he swings his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. He wobbles across his floorboards, blindly reaching in the dark to retrieve a clean pair of shorts to tug them up his legs to cover his modesty, fumbling to get to his bedroom door.

Jaemin steps out into the vacant hallway, squinting at the light that blinds his eyes as he walks towards the bathroom, dripping the doorknob and twisting with a call of your name, fully expecting you to be sitting on the toilet or even in the bathtub as he peers his head inside but grunts as he’s met with complete darkness, and a empty room.

His brows draw together in confusion as he pulls the door shut, turning to look over his shoulder to eye the closed bedroom doors of the other boys, not fully sure if they all came back home last night after they all ventured to the girls apartment.

Jaemin hovers outside of Yangyang’s bedroom, debating whether to open it up and take a quick peek inside to see if, for some reason, you were in there. But he’s met with darkness yet again, and an empty bed.

He feels a little uncomfortable and majorly confused, flashbacks of waking up alone after his last night with Eunbin before she disappeared repeats in his head and he feels the panic build up in his chest, trying his best to calm his erratic heartbeat as he ventures downstairs and into the kitchen to grab himself a glass of cold water but flinches in shock when he switches on the light and sees Donghyuck sat alone at the kitchen island with his hand shoved in a cereal box.

Jaemin stares at him in bewilderment, “What are you doing?”

“I’m eating” Donghyuck answers simply, giving him an odd look as he shoves another handful of cereal into his mouth before bringing his attention back to his phone that lays across the marble countertop, scrolling through instagram.

“Where is everyone?”

“Shotaro’s in his room sleeping, Renjun is with Haru and Yangyang and Jeno are walking Y/N back home”

Jaemin does a complete double take. “Walking her home?”

“She said she wasn’t feeling too good when we came in, caught her just by the door… was afraid she was going to throw up or something” Donghyuck explains to Jaemin who grows even more confused. “We were going to call her a cab but she said she wanted some fresh air so Jeno offered to walk her home. Yangyang tagged along because he got worried”

The panic inside of Jaemin builds at the thought of you not feeling okay, trying his hardest to remember how much alcohol you drank a few hours prior just in case you got too drunk, but he knows you didn’t drink that much and you were completely sober when you got back to the house. He then tries to remember if something had happened when the two of you were together in his room and if he had done something wrong or something to hurt you when you had slept together, but nothing comes to mind, he’s stuck.

Jaemin leaves Donghyuck alone in the kitchen as he runs back upstairs, not bothering to continue on with the conversation as the latter shouts nonsense behind him about what could’ve possibly happened, too busy searching for his phone to call you.

It rings once, twice, three times before it goes to voicemail and Jaemin huffs, tapping the call icon again and sandwiches his phone between his cheek and shoulder to listen to it ring once again as he yanks open his closet in search for some pants and a shirt, desperate to find something to wear so he can head over to your apartment.

“She’s home safe, you know” A voice interrupts from behind and Jaemin whizzes around to see Jeno standing in the doorway with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, head tilted to the side as he stares with Jaemin with an amused glint in his eyes when he sees the heap of clothes in front of him. “You can calm down”

“Is she sick?” Jaemin asks, pulling the phone away from his ears when it goes to voicemail yet again and he frowns.

“She doesn’t really seem herself,” Jeno admits, pressing his lips together as he figures out how to word his next question. “Did something happen between you both?”

“What? No” Jaemin's eyebrows furrow at that. “We’re fine. We talked when we got home—about the party and whatever. She was going to tell me something but we got carried away… did she say something to you?”

“Not a word” Jeno shakes his head, shifting on his feet as he straightens his back. “I don’t know if you know but Eunbin—”

“Dude, I don’t give a fuck about Eunbin right now” Jaemin cuts Jeno off with a deep sigh, his arms falling to his sides in exhaustion and annoyance. “Ever since she came back, all you guys have been doing is throwing her name around and shoving conversations about her in my face… I don’t care about Eunbin”

“Funny” Jeno scoffs, his tongue prodding at his cheek as he rips his hands out of his pockets to curl his fist around Jaemin’s bedroom door handle. “For someone that claims they don’t give a fuck about Eunbin, you sure hang out with her a lot”

Jaemin grits his teeth, “You know it’s not like that”

Jeno’s brows raise at that, “Do I?” And with that, Jeno slams the door shut, leaving Jaemin alone in his room with his thoughts.

Walking out and ignoring Jaemin after spending the night with him is probably one of the stupidest decisions you have ever made, and you have made a few.

A big part of you wanted to stay—to blurt out your full feelings and admit that you have grown to like him in a way you promised not to, but the conversation with Eunbin and lying about how there were no feelings involved weighed heavily on your chest and you felt guilty.

You felt guilty for lying, guilty for sleeping with him after telling Eunbin that you’d stop, guilty for leaving the second he fell into a deep sleep, guilty for not being selfish and getting what you want.

But, as always, you’ve never been selfish. You’ve always been selfless, you like making other people happy even if it means hurting yourself. It’s a flaw that the girls have grilled you for more times than you can possibly count.

You never learn, you never listen.

When Yangyang and Jeno walked you home that night, you could feel their curious and doubtful gazes on the side of your head, desperate to ask what was actually wrong and why you decided to leave early, clearly not taking the ‘I’m sick’ comment as an excuse. You hate how well they know you, but you were grateful they didn’t push for a real answer, there was no way you could be honest to them about what happened at the party.

“What’s wrong?” Miwoo questions you the next morning at breakfast and you feel your shoulders slump. Miwoo, on the other hand, pushes for the answer while Haru observes, staring at you until you break yourself. This is not what you need. “You’ve been weird since you got home late last night”

“Hungover” You simply lie, twirling your spoon around the cereal bowl. “I drank too much”

Miwoo scoffs at that, “You hardly drank”

“I agree” Haru chimes in softly, watching you over the rim of her coffee as she takes a sip.

“Nothings wrong,” You tell them.

“Okay”

“Stop it” You warn, pointing your spoon in Haru’s direction menacingly as if it will help, not appreciating the way the corners of her lips lift up in amusement. “I don’t like it when you assess me with your eyes, makes me feel nervous”

Miwoo grins, leaning on her elbow smugly. “Why would you be nervous if there’s nothing wrong?”

You huff in frustration, sliding down in your seat with a frown as you shove a spoonful of cereal in your mouth to not utter a single word to them, casting your eyes down to your bowl as they stare into you, waiting for you to crack.

You hold your ground, refusing to make eye contact with any of them as you continue eating your breakfast but the quietness that surrounds you three with the occasional crunch of cereal and sip of coffee makes you feel like you’re losing your mind.

“Fine” You immediately crack, your spoon clanging against the bowl as you drop it, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn your head towards Miwoo. “I’ll speak if you tell us why you’re spending so much time with Sunwoo”

Miwoo gasps, palm of her hand slapping against her chest in shock. “Don’t turn this on me”

Haru slowly cranes her head to Miwoo almost comically. “Interesting”

“I saw you talk to him last night so I’m sure he spilled on what I asked from him” Miwoo tuts with a shake of her head. “I just wanted to have some fun and Sunwoo carries a lot of the fun. He didn’t give me anything, but I did sit down with him for like an hour and talked… It was strange, a good strange”

You stare at her quizzically as you ask, “Do you like him?”

Miwoo snorts. “No. Since breaking up with Jeno, I’m done with relationships for now. I don’t need them”

“But?”

“But I like to think as myself as ‘sex positive’ so if the opportunity comes around where I can get dicked down then—”

“Okay, your turn” Haru cuts her off as she directs the conversation towards you, staring at you expectedly and you mentally groan, biting down on your inner cheek for even agreeing to spill the truth if Miwoo did first.

Honestly, you didn’t think Miwoo would actually talk about Sunwoo. You expected her to change the topic, to talk about something else like she usually does but of course, with just your luck, she was honest.

You sigh deeply, clearly a little frustrated and annoyed but you know your friends mean well. They’re curious—worried—about your sudden mood drop and how weird you’ve been acting since last night. They’re looking out for you, they care.

“I think I’m going to stop sleeping around with Jaemin” Your confession makes the girls freeze in confusion and shock, staring at you across the table and silently pleading for you to continue and explain. “I just thought that maybe it’s been going on for too long, you know”

Haru gives you a disappointed look, “You didn’t talk to him, did you?”

“I couldn’t” You shake your head, knowing what she’s hinting at. Your feelings towards Jaemin. “I couldn’t do it”

“Talk to him about what? How much you like him?” Miwoo asks nonchalantly as she takes a sip of her juice and your head snaps towards Haru for outing you out but she shakes her head, putting her hands up in defence and Miwoo snickers softly, “I figured it out. I’ve known for a while. I was just waiting for you to admit it out loud”

You frown deeply, “Is it that obvious?”

“Not really” Miwoo hums before sending you a smile, “I just know you. You're one of my best friends”

You blink at her sudden kindness, “Well that’s sweet”

Miwoo shrugs her shoulders with a smug grin as she leans back comfortably in her seat, “I try sometimes”

“I still think you should talk to him” Haru brings up the topic once again and your stomach flips with anxiety, a weight laying heavy on your chest. “You won’t know if he feels the same unless you talk to him about it”

“What if talking about it makes it worse?” You ask, voicing your fears with a shaken tone. “What if I’m standing there—blurting out my entire feelings and telling him that I broke the most important rule we made and then he rejects me or something?

“Rejection happens” Haru tells you quietly, giving you a small but tight lipped smile that does nothing to calm your nerves. “Rejection is a part of life. Sometimes it’s unavoidable, sometimes it’s not, but it happens. I think rejection helps us grow too. Sure, it fucking sucks but it’s a pain that will be forgotten in the long run. It’ll be okay”

“Also, there would be something seriously wrong with him if he rejected you” Miwoo chimes in, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you from across the table. “I’d date you if you confess your undying love to me”

You can’t help but smile in amusement at that, the corner of your lips twitching upwards. “Thanks, Miwoo”

Maybe you should’ve been completely honest to the girls on why you wanted to stop sleeping with Jaemin, and although you did admit a few of your worries like rejection and heartache, the thought of what Eunbin had asked of you left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You did weigh the pros and cons when you were alone in your room getting ready for the day. The pros being that they would have comforted you to the extreme, perhaps maybe even talked some sense into you and told you that it’s okay to be selfish every once in a while.

The cons felt heavier, intense. They would have gotten mad, at you and definitely at Eunbin. Haru has always been silent but deadly with her anger while Miwoo has, without a doubt, been more physical and verbal. She would get her hands dirty if someone had hurt you, Haru or anybody she cared about, even herself.

You didn’t want to cause a fight, that would be a little too dramatic.

You lean back in your chair at the library with a sigh, stretching out the aching muscles in your back and arms before placing down your pen and flexing out your fingers, the numbing sensation spreading to the tips, having been holding your pen in the same position for so long left a dull throbbing in your hand.

The heaps of notes, books and Donghyuck’s laptop that you borrowed from him once again splayed out in front of you proves how long you’ve been studying inside the library, and you mentally curse at yourself for spending your free period cramming all your work into one instead of grabbing a coffee with the others.

But you had your reasons.

A stack of books slam down on the desk in front of you and you jump in fright at the sudden noise, eyes widening in shock as your head snaps up to the culprit, ignoring the sounds of other students around you shushing you or warning you to be quiet as you see Jeno.

Usually, you would’ve scoffed and calmed down once settling your attention on Jeno, but with his jaw clenched and dark eyes staring at you through the messy strands that fall in front of his face, it’s hard for you to calm down. In fact, it makes you feel more scared.

“Why are you ignoring Jaemin?”

“I’m not!!” You splutter, shaking your head. You are. “Keep your noise down, we’re in a library”

“I don’t care about the library” Jeno scoffs, pulling out the chair vacant opposite you and making himself comfortable, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at you expectedly. “Why are you ignoring Jaemin?”

“I told you, I’m not” You lie, gesturing towards the mess in front of you. “I’ve been busy with my assessments. The college life is stressful, you know”

“So it has nothing to do with the conversation you had with Eunbin?” That throws you for a loop and your lips press together tightly, unable to control the emotions that are easily now written upon your face and Jeno sighs, dropping his head low with a shake before looking back up at you. “What happened?”

“Nothing—”

“Come on, you know you can’t lie to me,” Jeno says with a teasing smile. “Talk to me. I promise I won’t tell a soul” You give him a disbelieving look, “Okay, depends on what is it because sometimes I can’t keep my mouth shut when talking to Donghyuck—”

“Jeno” You cut him off with a frustrated sigh, rubbing your hand across your forehead at the headache that forms. Jeno frowns deeply at you, his efforts of making you laugh and crack a smile fails him, letting him know that whatever happened between you and Eunbin must’ve been serious.

He calls your name softly and your hand drops to your lap as you gaze up at him, hating how worryingly he’s looking at you right now but you bite back any comment you want to make, swallowing thickly before you begin to talk again.

“I don’t want to continue being official and sleeping with Jaemin anymore” You admit, the heavy weight laying on your chest once again as Jeno’s eyebrows raise in shock. “I have been avoiding him… but that’s because I’m nervous to have the conversation with him. I’m making it worse”

Jeno’s quiet as he mumbles, “How come?”

“Feels like it’s gotten a little out of hand” You laugh softly, embarrassment filling your tone as you stare awkwardly at your fidgeting hands. “Rules were broken—important rules. I ended up breaking the main one”

Jeno takes a moment to register what you had just admitted, remembering the five rules Jaemin had told him during the early stages of your friends with benefits situation, and everything slowly begins to sink in, a genuine smile threatening to spill onto his lips as he stares at you, “You like him”

You nod quickly, feeling awkward and embarrassed for admitting something to someone like Jeno: Jaemin’s ultimate best friend. You feel a little stupid too, but you push down all regrets and worries as you mutter, “But I can’t like him”

Jeno’s eyebrows furrow, confused. “Why not?”

You finally meet his eyes across the table, giving him a tight lipped smile as the words pour from your lips. “Because Eunbin likes him too”

Jeno promised he wouldn’t tell anyone about your conversation with Eunbin after he made you explain everything in detail, wrapping his pinky tightly around yours to seal off the promise.

The look of anger and annoyance written across his features worried you a little and at some point you were afraid he was about to burst and curse up a storm, but he kept his cool (much to your surprise) despite his facial expressions giving away exactly what he was thinking.

He accompanies you for his entire free period despite you telling him that you’re fine without the company but he ignores you as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, kicking his feet up on the empty chair beside him as he mindlessly scrolls. You scoff as you catch him glancing over at you from time to time.

Jeno also decides to come with you when Donghyuck demands his laptop back when he and the others return from getting coffee, sending you an interesting text with a bunch of emojis and light-hearted threats if you don’t return his ‘prized possession’ back in one piece.

You walk side by side with Jeno now, heading towards the outside grounds where you know the others will be waiting for your arrival and you grow a little nervous when you think about Jaemin. Would he be there? Did he have a free period to go and get coffee too? Or would he stay behind and catch up on his own work?

The questions leave you dizzy and annoyed, huffing at your thoughts which easily catches Jeno’s attention and he gives you a kind smile, reaching his hand up to your shoulder to dig his fingers into the pressure points, causing you to wince upon his first touch but slowly relax in complete bliss as you feel the tension slip away.

You give him a dumb grin to which he snorts at.

“Hey” A familiar voice calls out and you crane your neck to the side, the grin slowly slipping from your lips as you see Jaemin emerge from a class with Junghoon, who you’ve grown to learn is his nosey seatmate, by his side. It seems like your questions are answered. He did stay.

Jaemin eyes the way Jeno’s fingers are dug into your shoulders, brow twitching upwards in question when he watches his hands slowly trail down your arm and drop to his sides casually, giving Jaemin a smile that, for once, Jaemin didn’t bother giving back.

Your mouth feels dry upon seeing Jaemin, unable to come up with a simple greeting when he makes his way towards you, but he stops abruptly when Junghoon tumbles into him and apologises profusely when he steps on the back of Jaemin’s shoe, yet Jaemin pays no mind to the small accident and instead swats Junghoon away when it dawns on him that he’s trying to follow behind.

Junghoon’s mouth drops open in offence, spinning around on his heel with a scoff and disappearing into the crowd, but not before giving you a wave to which you felt obliged to return and your hand falls to your side when Jaemin brings his attention back to you.

“Hey” He greets you casually, but his brows pull together in concern as his eyes take you in, roaming your face with curiosity. “Are you okay? I’ve been trying to call you but… it kept going straight to voicemail”

“Yeah, sorry” You apologise, the guilt immediately eating you up and you struggle to look him in the eyes even when he tries so hard to meet yours. “I wasn’t feeling too great and then I had assessments from Professor Moon, I just—” You gulp. “I’ve been busy”

“Are you feeling better now?” Jaemin asks you and you nod quickly, but abruptly stop when he asks the next question, “Are you still busy now?”

“I, well…” You pause, staring down at Donghyuck’s laptop in your hands before looking back up at him. “I have to give this to Donghyuck—”

“Jeno can give it back” Jaemin tells you, not even sparing a glance at Jeno who’s been silently watching the interaction this entire time, his hands shoved deep into his jean pockets with his jaw locked. You’re unsure of what to say back, but the urge to make up a lame excuse on why you should be the one to give Donghyuck his laptop back lays on the tip of your tongue. “I want to talk to you, alone”

You’re about to decline, to follow along with your excuse until you hear the faint ‘please’ that leaves his lips when you take a second too long to answer him. It leaves you crumbling, the walls that you’ve built up fall down just from that word and the tone that was used.

You hate how weak he makes you feel and you mentally scold yourself when you hand the laptop over to Jeno who’s already staring at you, trying to communicate with you through subtle glances but you simply nod at him to tell him that everything was okay, and maybe this could be your chance to end things with Jaemin once and for all.

Jeno bids you both a silent goodbye, giving one last look at Jaemin and Jaemin holds eye contact with him for a few moments before dropping his head low as he remembers the small dispute the pair had regarding himself and Eunbin—but Jaemin didn’t care about that right now, not when he finally has you here in person.

He offers his hand out for you to take and you feel a little dumb staring at it, debating in your head whether to hold it or not. You really want to hold his hand, to feel his warmth against your skin and get that comfort you’ve been yearning for, yet the guilt is quick to rise and the conversation with Eunbin comes to mind. You can’t take his hand.

But yet, you do.

Your fingers slide through his before you can even register you’re doing it and the squeeze he gives your hand is enough to pull you out of your thoughts that swarm your head. You allow him to take you wherever he wants to go to talk to you alone and the anxiety that surges through your veins at the lingering eyes of others causes you to drop your head low to avoid their stares, especially Mia’s who watches with her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her jaw clenched.

“What’s going on?” Jaemin asks the question you have been dreading and the silence that fills the empty classroom he had pulled you inside for your one-on-one talk makes you feel uncomfortable, and a little nervous.

You have no idea how to even talk to him, let alone start the conversation of ending whatever it is you both have. A friends with benefits situation, an official one. That’s all it has ever been. Your stomach twists and turns at that, refusing to make eye contact with him as you look elsewhere, focussing on a board with scribbles from its previous class.

Jaemin calls out your name softly and you almost jump when you feel the palm of his hands cup your cheeks to turn your attention on him, and your heart drops plummets in your stomach. The desperate look in his eyes, the curiosity—the worry—it makes you feel sick.

“I know you said you’ve been busy… but it kinda feels like you’ve been avoiding me” Jaemin laughs lightly despite the crushed tone, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones as his lips press together with a sigh. “Please talk to me”

“Jaemin, I—” You wanted to scream when you heard his phone shrill loudly in his pocket, ruining your chance to explain what was going on. Maybe it was a good thing you were getting interrupted, you weren’t exactly ready to end whatever you both had and truthfully, you didn’t want to.

Although you grow confused when Jaemin allows his phone to continuously ring, not bothering to check the caller ID and answer it as his attention is focused on nothing but you. You would’ve been entirely grateful if this was under a different circumstance, recalling the amount of times he’s answered the phone when you were together but you couldn’t ignore it, not with that annoying ringtone.

Slipping your hand into his jean pockets, you fish out his phone and you barely bite back a scoff when you see Eunbin’s caller ID. You’re shocked at your complete 180 in attitude, being so used to feeling guilty and ashamed when being in Jaemin’s presence with Eunbin’s name running in your mind, but now you feel annoyed—resentful even.

“You should answer it”

“I don’t want to,” Jaemin immediately says.

“It hasn’t stopped you before” You bite back before you can stop yourself, your bitter tone catching Jaemin off guard and you sigh, closing your eyes in defeat. “I’m sorry—”

“Did she say something to you?” It was your turn to be caught off guard, your eyes snapping open to stare at Jaemin who’s hands drop to his side, head tilting to the side quizzically.

Jaemin remembered his brief encounter with Jeno during the night you left, how Jeno had brought up Eunbin’s name but Jaemin was quick to shut it down, not wanting to know anything or even hear anything about his ex-girlfriend.

But he can’t help but piece two and two together: you have been acting weird since Eunbin’s welcome home party and he’s almost certain he saw you and Eunbin together before he was pushed inside of her home by others who attended the party.

Instead of answering him like he wishes you would’ve, you look down at his phone in your hands and slide your finger across the answer button, shoving his phone in his grasp with force and collecting your belongings to leave him alone once again.

A gasp flies from your lips as you feel Jaemin’s fingers wrap around your wrist and tug you back to him, and you almost trip over your own feet if it wasn’t for his tight grip to keep you steady, staring at him in complete shock as he stares back with a unreadable expression on his face.

You hear Eunbin’s voice call out his name from the speaker: asking if he’s there, asking if he can hear her and what he’s doing, but he remains silent with his attention, yet again, focused on you and it makes your heart pound loudly in your ears.

Your thoughts ramble together, unable to even come up with a clear thought to get you out of this situation. Instead, you do what you know best.

You kiss him.

You don’t know why you kissed him, you don’t really know what brought on the urge to do so but you did. With your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers curled around the hair at the nape of his neck, chest pressed against his, you kissed him hungrily—desperately.

It’s when you feel Jaemin respond to the kiss, letting his phone drop to the ground as his hands come up to rest on your waist that you realise what you’re doing and you recoil back in shock, eyes wide as you stare between him and his phone on the ground, baffled at what you just done.

Jaemin tries to reach back out to you, to bring you back to him and to kiss you again but you refuse, muttering a small apology as you finally gather your things and leave him once again.

It’s been two weeks since Jaemin last interacted with you in the classroom.

There’s been brief moments where he encountered you with the group, but it’s obvious now when you avoid his gaze or make up some excuse to go somewhere else or that you’re busy, and Jaemin is tired.

What makes it worse is that it seems everyone else around him is knowing what's going on while he’s left alone in the dark to figure it out himself. It makes him upset, even though he’d never admit it out loud to anyone.

It makes him upset to see you avoid him so quickly, to refuse to meet up with him alone or to talk to him. He’s tried calling you, he’s tried texting you—hell, he’s even tried to talk to Haru and Miwoo who give him nothing in return but a sharp look or disappointing gaze.

He’s sick of it.

Jaemin’s not sick of you, he doesn’t think he could be ever sick of you. He’s sick of the hushed whispers he hears from the group, how they refuse to tell him what’s going on. He’s sick of the looks he gets from them whenever Eunbin makes a sudden appearance to talk to him, whether it’ll be through a phone call or in person.

He knows Eunbin’s trying to get on good terms with him, to rebuild a friendship with him while she’s back. Some part of him admires Eunbin for her efforts as Jaemin doesn’t bother giving anything back apart from some half-hearted replies or sounds of acknowledgement when she says something to him, but the other part of him is annoyed at how she can pretend that nothing ever happened and that because he forgave her for his closure, Eunbin thinks it’s fine to worm her way back into his life with his friends (who clearly hate her).

Jaemin feels conflicted. He hates awkwardness and he hates the tension, and he’s not the best when it comes to uncomfortable situations. He can, however, have his moments when it comes to other people. He doesn’t mind being confrontational if it helps the other person, but when it comes to himself he would avoid it at all costs.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud but he wants his friends to be happy and he most importantly wants you to be happy. Eunbin? He ponders her name for a moment, tongue prodding at his cheek as he stares at his blank computer screen. Eunbin is not his priority. He doesn’t really care about Eunbin’s happiness.

So why was he trying so hard to keep the peace on both ends? Jaemin grows frustrated again, trying his best to clear his thoughts as he busies himself with his computer, editing a picture he had taken of Shotaro recently but he gets distracted when he hears his phone vibrate relentlessly on his desk and he picks it up, brows pulling together as he sees the main groupchat is active.

[ 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗨'𝗦 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗔𝗥 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦 — 𝗚𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗣𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧 ]

donghyuck: sunwoos having a party tonight donghyuck: he invited all of us and said he’s got the goods covered donghyuck: i think i love him a lil

yangyang: i’m down [donghyuck hearted this message]

renjun: who the fuck changed the groupchat name.

miwoo: me❤️

renjun: change it back.

yangyang: 🗣️rare sight of renjun getting overprotective over his gf 🗣️

donghyuck: i screenshot already👍 [yangyang liked this message] [renjun disliked this message]

miwoo: haru is the only one with a big bank account tho bc she works miwoo: its fitting dont u think????

donghyuck: idkkk donghyuck: just wait until me n jeno start our onlyfans account

jeno: 🤨

yangyang: wait hyuck why not ask m e????

donghyuck: no offence but jeno would bring in the views

yangyang: you right you right

jeno: anyway jeno: im down for the party jeno: haven’t had one in a while

renjun: you had one last weekend.

yangyang: we literally hosted a party last weekend????

donghyuck: did you get so fucked up you forgot we had one last weekend???

jeno: shut up jeno: are we all going or not [yangyang, donghyuck and miwoo liked this message] jeno: what abt renjun, haru, shotaro, yn & jaemin???

miwoo: renjun goes if haru goes miwoo: and shotaro goes if renjun and haru goes [donghyuck questioned this message]

donghyuck: uh no donghyuck: shotaro goes if ME and YANG go

miwoo: idk abt that :/

shotaro: i go if you all go :)

donghyuck: i love you

haru: me and renjun can’t go tonight, we’re packing for our weekend trip

miwoo: THE FCK??? 🤨🤨🤨 miwoo: WHAT WEEKEND TRIP???? miwoo: and without me???

you: haru and renjun have planned this trip for like weeks, that’s why haru asked for more shifts at work [haru hearted this message] [renjun liked this message]

renjun: at least someone listens.

donghyuck: wait what teh fuck

miwoo: thats what im SAYING

donghyuck: what happened to group trips </3 do we not do those anymore </3

miwoo: ^ ^ ^

donghyuck: this friday is the worst friday to have ever friday [miwoo emphasised this message]

shotaro: is this our first time seeing miwoo and hyuck agree on something?? [donghyuck and miwoo disliked this message] shotaro: sorry.

yangyang: where are u guys going??

renjun: none of your business.

haru: rented out a beach house!

donghyuck: BEACH TRIPS ARE OUR THING!!!!!???

miwoo: how are me and yn going to survive without haru miwoo: i feel so lonely already </3

haru: i’ll be gone for three days…

miwoo: and??? miwoo: do u know how long that is????

yangyang: 3 days lol [miwoo disliked this message]

donghyuck: 3 days??? [miwoo disliked this message]

renjun: 3 days. [miwoo disliked this message]

miwoo: ok stfu

jeno: we’re getting side tracked. jeno: yn? jaemin? party???

you: idk you: i’ll think abt it

yangyang: thats a yes yangyang: because i’ll be dragging ur ass out

donghyuck: me too ;)

jeno: jae??

jaemin: no.

And with that, Jaemin shuts off his phone and drops it beside him on his desk, leaning back in his chair with his head in his hands, rubbing at his face in frustration as his chest tightens with an uncomfortable feeling. He hates this.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but, why are you even here right now?” Haru questions you with a quick glance over her shoulder as she restocks the vinyls, rearranging them in alphabetical order for Johnny’s liking.

She spins to face Renjun for a brief moment with a grin, holding up a vinyl with the words ‘COLOURFUL TRAUMA’ scrawled across the front in block letters and Renjun nods, opening up his little ‘misfits’ tote bag and allowing her to shove the vinyl inside for later purchase.

“Can’t I just come visit you at work?” You question back, finding offence as you frown at her. Your arms cross over your chest as you lean against a pillar, raising a brow in her direction. “Is it wrong for me to want to hang out with you?”

Renjun scoffs, “You’re so dramatic” You retaliate by throwing up your middle finger and Renjun does the same with a smile, causing Haru to give you both a pointed look, clearly unimpressed with your attitudes towards each other.

“I think you’re stalling” Haru tells you, turning back to the vinyls. “He’s not going tonight, you know. Ditch the party and actually talk to him… avoiding him isn’t going to make either of you feel better”

“I can’t bring myself to do it” You admit, staring down at your shoes in disappointment. “I don’t want to end whatever we have for my benefit… but not only do I not know how he feels about me, I have Eunbin waiting to make her move and get her second chance”

“Eunbin doesn’t deserve a second chance” Renjun says, causing you to look at him. “And honestly? I don’t think Jaemin is dumb enough to give her a second chance. At this point she’s just making a complete fool out of herself”

Your lips curl into a frown, “Doesn’t that mean technically that I’m making a complete fool out of myself too?”

Haru turns her head towards you abruptly, “What makes you say that?”

“Think about it,” You start, uncrossing your arms to count off your fingers. “I’ve fallen for him without knowing how he feels about me. I broke the most important rule we had made which, shocker, is the don't fall for each other rule. I’m practically stalling everything just so I don’t have that conversation with him and potentially lose him… I’m a fool”

“You’re just scared—”

You blink at Haru, “That makes me feel so much worse”

“It’s okay to be scared, you know” Renjun speaks this time and you’re surprised by his soft and caring tone, eyes wide as you look over at him. Renjun rolls his eyes at your expression, “I can be nice sometimes”

“Yeah, and it’s creepy” You tell him, causing Renjun to scoff and Haru to laugh at her boyfriend, patting him on the shoulder before resuming in her work. “I know it’s okay to be scared, by the way… I just hate feeling it and I want to get rid of it. I wish I could pull an Eunbin and leave on a trip”

Haru sucks through her teeth, gently whacking you on top of the head with a vinyl. “Don’t use that writing trip as an escape”

Renjun snorts at your choice of words, “Pull an Eunbin”

“It was a joke” You tell her, rubbing the top of your head despite it not actually hurting you. “I have been thinking about it though. Professor Moon asks me about it from time to time, and I still have Mr Nakamoto’s details on a note somewhere in the bottom of my bag”

“Go on the trip if it’s something you really want, but don’t go on the trip if you’re using it as an escape route to avoid Jaemin” Haru gives you a hard look and you’re a little startled, not expecting her to give you that type of expression. “You’ll be worse than Eunbin if you do that”

Renjun spares you a quick glance, “Don’t be Eunbin”

You frown at that, the thought of becoming something like her leaving an uncomfortable feeling on your chest. You regret the joke you made moments prior about pulling an Eunbin and leaving—you’d never do something like that, that would be the last thing you’d do. Jaemin would, truthfully, be one of the first people you’d tell if you decided to go on the trip, remembering how excited he was for you when you first mentioned it to him.

You wouldn’t do that to him—you wouldn’t leave without telling him, no matter what type of situation you’re both in.

“Do you want a job or something?” The sudden but familiar voice causes you to slowly turn around on your heel, eyes zoning in on Johnny who’s standing behind you with a pudding cup in hand and a spoon in the other, staring at you with a deadpan expression as he raises his spoon to his mouth.

“What?”

“You’re here all the time.” Johnny points out, the corner of his lips subtly twitching which gives you the impression he’s teasing you. “Do you want a job or something? Help organise the shelves? Be my assistant?”

“Fuck off, Johnny”

“Are you really going on a trip?” Miwoo frowns, sitting on the edge of Haru’s bed as she watches her pack her final belongings for the weekend getaway.

When Haru had finished her shift this evening, she rushed home with you to pack while you had to shower and get ready for Sunwoo’s party. (Miwoo’s orders. You didn’t feel like crossing Miwoo today.)

You’re prettied up alongside Miwoo, wearing your favourite outfit along with some silver jewellery and heavy makeup that you think definitely pulls the look in all together—you praise Miwoo for her talents. And despite not wanting to go in the first place, you have to admit that you feel much better after seeing your reflection.

“Yes, I’m really going on this trip,” Haru tells her as she’s shoving some hygiene products into her bag. “Why do you keep asking me?”

“The longest I’ve been without you is five hours,” Miwoo explains. “You’re going for three days—how am I going to cope?”

Haru snorts, “Mi—”

“No, seriously. What should I do?” Miwoo deadpans. “You’re, like, my anchor. What am I going to do?”

“It’s three days” Haru repeats to her as she places a comforting hand on Miwoo’s shoulder and gives her a warm smile. “You’ll be fine… plus, you can just call me if you want”

“Everyday?”

Haru gives her a look, “Don’t push it”

“Worth a shot” Miwoo grins before she shoots up from Haru’s bed, quickly excusing herself to retrieve something for her as she dashes out of the room. You snort at her behaviour, turning your head to look at Haru who seems a little uneasy and bothered, it makes you frown.

“Can you do me a favour?” Haru asks you before you can even get the chance to question what was wrong, but you nod anyway. “Keep an eye on Miwoo”

“I mean, I will, but,” You pause, brows pulling together. “Why?”

“She spoke to me last night about some stuff—well, she hinted towards some things about herself and about Jeno. How weird and lost she feels, how different things seem to be without having Jeno there in her life as a boyfriend” Haru explains to you quietly, keeping her voice low and glancing towards her bedroom door to make sure Miwoo wasn’t returning back yet. “Don’t get me wrong, Miwoo can be independent… but I think she also depended on Jeno a lot in some weird sense. I know that people called us the trio, but—”

“It was always Jeno and Miwoo” You finish and Haru nods with a gentle hum, confirming you were right. “I’ll keep an eye on her… I’ll try and talk to her too”

Haru laughs softly, “Good luck with that, Miwoo doesn’t open up easily”

“Found it~” Miwoo sings happily from the hallway as she comes bounding back into Haru’s room, holding something in her hand.

You watch as she excitingly hands the box over to Haru who looks at it sceptical before unwrapping the pink ribbon from around the box, sliding the top off before slamming it back on with a shocked expression, eyes wide as she stares over at Miwoo who grins.

You’re curious to know what’s inside the box, fingers itching to reach out and see why Haru had caused such a reaction but before you could even get a chance to question it, Haru’s already reacting once again.

“You’re crazy. You’re insane… how did you even find this?”

“I’ve very persuasive” Miwoo’s grin widens as she settles down on the bed beside you. “Surprisingly had a little help from Sunwoo too—He knew a few people and luckily I’m good at getting what I want”

“Miwoo…” Haru whines with a pout, dropping the box on the bed and launching herself at Miwoo who happily welcomes her with open arms, squeezing her tightly to her chest with a joyful giggle as Haru embraces her while muttering gibberish under her breath.

Feeling left out, you immediately reach for the box and take a peek inside, instantly making a noise of recognition as you see the sage green mesh dress that’s been sitting in Haru’s wishlist for a few months, knowing how badly Haru was wanting the pretty dress and even saving up for it alongside her savings for her weekend vacation away with Renjun.

You immediately awe out loud, looking over at Miwoo who is beaming with happiness, wrapping her limbs awkwardly around Haru who tries to free herself this time, pinching Miwoo’s thighs in an attempt to force her to let her go and Miwoo’s reluctantly frees her when she squeezes a little too hard.

“I want to hit you for buying this but I also want to kiss you” Miwoo immediately puckers her lips as that confession but Haru places the palm over her hand over her face. “How did you have the money to buy this? Do you realise how expensive it is?”

“I told you. Sunwoo knows people and I’m good at getting what I want” Miwoo explains as she pushes Haru’s hand away. “But if you want the full details… We all know Sunwoo’s parents are rich so they’re involved with a lot of people. When I met up with him for a smoke, he told me that one of the girls he plugs for owns a family boutique. She owed him for the last ‘service’ so I asked if I could get the dress”

“I’m pretty sure this dress costs more than Sunwoo’s goods”

“I don’t know about that…” You pitch in this time, looking between Haru and Miwoo. “Sunwoo does sell some high quality shit. That’s why he’s so popular”

Miwoo clicks her fingers at you, “Exactly”

“When I come back from vacation, I hope you realise I’m paying you everything back”

“Shut up” Miwoo scoffs, shaking her head while gently glaring at Haru before her lips curl into a smile. “You can pay me back by never leaving me again” Haru gives her a blank look to which Miwoo shrugs her shoulders innocently, the smile dropping from her face. “No, I'm serious. I get separation anxiety”

Standing in Sunwoo’s kitchen with him on your one side with Miwoo on the other wasn’t exactly in your plans for this party, nor was striking up a conversation with him as he sits upon the countertop while rolling a joint expertly between his fingers, selling them to people who strolled by and shoved money in his hands.

You almost snorted when you first witnessed him alone, emoji stickers plastered across his face and glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose and you dared to ask why he was covered in such things, only prompting an actual laugh out of you when he said some girls stuck them on his face as a thank you gift for hosting a party.

But you immediately stop laughing and stare at him unimpressed as he pulls a lips emoji sticker off his cheek to put it on your own, patting the area softly with a sluggish grin before peeling a devil emoji off his glasses and pressing it in the middle of Miwoo’s forehead, causing her to drunkenly grin as she pulls out her phone to take a picture of you three.

“You know,” Sunwoo begins as he rolls another joint, taking a quick glance at you. “As much as I love you hanging out with me right now, Eric is upstairs. He’s going to come find me soon and if you still want to ignore him, now’s your best chance to go find your friends”

“Thanks for the heads up” You tell him appreciatively, shocked that he’s even letting you know about Eric’s whereabouts. You look over at Miwoo, “I’m gonna go find Shotaro—”

“I think you should talk to him though”

Your head snaps towards him, and so does Miwoo’s.

“I’m not saying you should forgive him” Sunwoo adds as he studies your face. “I’m saying you’re going to end up spending the majority of your life trying to avoid him, making things harder and awkward for yourself. Just talk to him—tell him how he made you feel, hear whatever he has to say back, decide whether he deserves forgiveness or not and get your closure”

Closure. That word leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Seeing firsthand how Jaemin’s closure has worked out between him and Eunbin, how Eunbin has easily wormed her way back into his life as if nothing happened… you don’t want to go down that path, you refuse, especially with Eric.

You can’t.

“I’ll pass” You grab your drink and leave the kitchen, pushing your way through the crowd of sweaty bodies who grind upon each other, allowing the music to take over their rhythm.

You decline when a girl from your class taps your arm to come join her and her little group, pointing to your cup to subtly tell her you want to finish your drink first and she nods, allowing you to slip by and continue on walking.

Shotaro is the first person you see and a genuine smile spreads across your lips when you see him talking with Yeji in the far corner of the room, how his cheeks bloom a slight shade of red as her hand caresses the bruise on his face, courtesy of Hyunjin’s punch.

(You even fight the urge to awe out loud when she leans over to kiss it.)

Not wanting to interrupt their moment, you venture out to find Donghyuck or Yangyang instead, maybe even Jeno if you’re lucky. But, much to your dismay, you can’t find them anywhere and you feel a little silly being left alone.

You’re starting to miss Haru and Renjun, maybe even Jaemin too.

You exhale deeply and tug your phone out of your pocket as you make your way out to the backyard, eyeing the couples that kiss in the pool and others who cannonball in, three drunk guys sitting on the sidelines scoring them.

Sitting yourself down on an empty garden chair, you sip your beer as you scroll through your phone, hearting Haru and Renjun’s posts on Instagram as they posted that they finally arrived at their destination, leaving a small comment for them to have fun and stay safe to which she, and Renjun too (shockingly), replied back with heart emojis.

You continue to scroll mindlessly, liking other posts from mutuals and you snort when seeing an old post of Yangyang but you feel your chest tighten and your amusement drop when you see a recent post of Jaemin’s, thumb hovering over the heart button.

‘Taken with my favourite polaroid’, the caption reads and you sigh softly, pressing your lips together. It’s the polaroid you bought him, the one he hasn’t stopped using since you gifted it to him.

You’d be lying if you said that the caption didn’t affect you, leaving your heart warm and fuzzy. And you’re not sure what pushed you to do it but you tap the comment section of his post, seeing a few comments from his classmates and one that leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Eunbin.

She left a smiley face emoji under the photo, a comment that wasn’t liked apart from the others and you begin to wonder if you should comment to, just to test if he would like yours but you figured that would be too toxic and silly, deciding to just heart the photo and continue scrolling but you pause when a notification from Jaemin comes up on your phone the second you heart it, causing your brows to follow as you tap his message.

jaemin: are u at the party?

you: yeah

jaemin: are u drunk?

you: tipsy you: i’ll be fine

jaemin: typing… jaemin: typing… jaemin: typing…

You gnaw at the nail of your thumb, watching the three bubbles on the screen as you wonder what he’s about to say next.

jaemin: stay safe jaemin: i’ll come get u if u need me

Your bottom lip starts to quiver, heart rate increasing as your emotions get the best of you, wanting to spill some tears at a simple and kind message. You shut off your phone, shoving it into your pocket as you bring the beer bottle up to your lips to chug, tears brimming in your eyes and making your vision blurry.

You do need him. You hate to admit it, but you do need him. More than ever. You don’t want to lose him, you don’t want to stop seeing him because of Eunbin wanting a second chance. Maybe you deserve to be a little selfish once in a while

But it dawns on you that you don’t exactly know how Jaemin feels.

The frustration soon starts to build inside you, realising how secretive and quiet Jaemin is about his feelings, how he doesn’t allow anyone to have a dip inside his head to know what he’s thinking of feeling in that given moment.

You hardly know anything about him, and that’s because he doesn’t let you.

“There you are” A familiar voice coos from behind you and you peer your head over your shoulder to see Yangyang stumbling towards you, eyes red with a dumb grin and you laugh as he pulls a vacant garden chair beside you to sit down, knocking his shoulder against yours. “I’ve been looking for you”

“Sorry” You mutter, staring down at the almost empty beer bottle in your hands. “I needed fresh air”

“Me too, it was stuffy in there” Yangyang agrees as he mindlessly drums his fingers on his thighs, staring out at the others in the pool. “You missing Haru and Renjun?”

You exhale deeply, “Very”

“Same” He hums, pressing his lips together as he takes a quick glance at you. “Are you missing Jaemin?”

“Just feels different without everyone here” You say, not wanting to jump into full details about how you really are missing Jaemin even if you don’t want to admit it out loud. “I like it when we’re all together”

Yangyang nods slowly to agree with you and silence falls upon you both for a while, basking in each others presence as you watch the other partygoers, some still flinging themselves into the pool or dancing on the well kept grass to the music that plays loudly from the speakers.

“You look pretty, by the way” Yangyang’s sudden compliment doesn’t surprise you, always have been used to this type of behaviour from him and you roll your eyes as you turn to face him, finally looking straight at him since he first arrived to sit with you and you notice the change in his features, how the grin he had falters into a frown. “Have you been crying?”

You scoff, feeling a little embarrassed. “No”

“Wow…” He gasps dramatically, reaching out to touch your face, his thumb wiping the tears that bubble in the corner of your eyes. “You’re pretty when you cry too? How the fuck is that fair? Hm?” His over the top acting has you struggling to keep your expression stoic. “I look ugly as fuck when I cry… What the hell?”

“Shut up” You crack, a laugh slipping past your lips as you swat his hand away. “Stop it”

“But you are,” Yangyang smiles, dropping his hand from your face to your lap, fingers skimming over your own. He nudges your shoulder gently, “I have this ugly picture of drunk Miwoo crying into a bowl of spaghetti if you want to see it? Surely that would make you feel better, right?”

“You’ve got to stop taking pictures of people drunk”

Yangyang shrugs his shoulders, “Blackmail. You all have photos of me too” He meets your eyes again, turning serious this time. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing—”

“Don’t lie to me” Yangyang cuts you off immediately and this time, he grabs your hand to lace your fingers in a comforting hold. “I know you too well, so don’t lie to me” He squeezes your hand gently. “Tell me”

And you do. You tell him everything.

Everything about Jaemin, everything about Eunbin—even everything about yourself and your feelings, and Yangyang listens to you so intently, concern and sadness written across his features as he nods along with your words.

Yangyang’s chest tightens as he listens to your problems, especially regarding Jaemin as he hears you admit how much you had fallen for him despite it being the number one rule. His heart breaks seeing how sad you are, how the tears threaten to spill again and he wishes he could help make you feel better, to see that smile on your face that he loves so much.

Love. That word makes him feel a little sick, his stomach swirling uncomfortably at the new and unusual feeling. He’s never loved anyone romantically before, that’s all new and foreign to him. He never expected himself to ever fall in love with someone, especially with how comfortable he is with hook-up culture and how normal is it for him.

Love is scary. It leaves his palms sweaty and he grimaces whenever there’s something romantic happening between him and someone else, which is why he always sets boundaries, boundaries that are not meant to be crossed.

But yet, when it comes to you, maybe love to Yangyang doesn’t sound so bad.

“There’s something I want to tell you…” Yangyang interrupts you, voice soft and timid. Once you look at him, you notice that he’s staring at the ground, refusing to meet your gaze as his fingers timidly place with your own. “It’s important. It’s been on my mind for a while and I… I just need to get it off my chest”

“Okay” You say, nodding your head with a smile despite the anxiety that buzzes through your veins at his unusualness. “What is it?”

“I…” Yangyang suddenly pauses, staring straight at you as you stare back at him, waiting for him to speak. He wants to do it, to tell you everything that he’s been feeling, to finally get it out into the open and be free of all the thoughts inside of his head.

Yangyang has always been honest with his feelings—blunt and straight to the point. He doesn’t beat around the bush when being completely real with someone, so why is he hesitating when he comes to you?

He stares at you a little longer, noticing how red your ears are, how your makeup is slightly smudged from crying, how swollen and bitten your lips are from trying to conceal yourself from any more tears and sadness.

His shoulders sag slightly, exhaling through his nose in defeat as he grips your hand in his own. “I’m proud of you, I always have been. You’re strong and I admire that about you, and I just—” He feels his eyes burn, tears threatening to appear but he holds back with a harsh swallow. “I promise that everything will work out in the end. You’ll be happy… you deserve to be happy. Don’t let anyone, including Eunbin, ruin that for you”

Whatever you were expecting Yangyang to tell you, it definitely wasn’t that. You can’t help but stare at him in shock, taking in his words with a warmth in your chest. You feel emotional and you bite back the urge to make another fool out of yourself by crying but you’re aware of the tears that are already forming in your eyes.

“That was pretty cheesy of you” You joke, unable to hide your smile as a tear drips down your cheek. Yangyang laughs lightly and squeezes your hand once again, using his other hand to wipe the tear away and he caresses your cheek softly, and that’s when you notice the pain in his eyes.

“I love you” He whispers to you so gently that you barely hear him. “You’re my best friend, and I love you”

“I love you too” You repeat back, swatting his hands away so you could lean forwards to embrace him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his arms slide around your waist, holding you tightly to his chest with his fingers clutching the back of your dress, not wanting to let you go just yet as the tears freely spill down his cheeks, completely unbeknownst to you.

Jaemin lets out a soft grunt as he raises his arms above his head, bones cracking from the hunched over position he had held for so long over his computer, eager to finish a few photos that were left untouched in his folder, using at as an excuse to get his mind off of everything that was going on.

He keeps glancing over at his phone, wondering if you would take him up on his offer to help you if you need it, but his mood defleats more and more when it buzzes and your name doesn’t show up on the screen.

It’s Eunbin’s name that does, asking him if he went to Sunwoo’s party and if he would like to hang out if he didn’t go, wondering if they wanted to go for beers somewhere else or even get a bite to eat.

He ignored every single one, he wasn’t in the mood to do anything but work on his photos and he sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to be around drunk people, apart from you.

Jaemin sighs as he reaches for his phone, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he opens up your chat to see that you’ve left him on read, his fingers tapping anxiously against the sides of his phone.

He wonders if you’ll take him up on his offer if you need someone to come get you and he contemplates on sending another text just to let you know that he was serious about coming to get you if needed, or texting to see if you were still tipsy or getting sober.

But he decides against it when his phone pings again with another notification from Eunbin and he locks his phone, throwing it back on the desk as he runs his fingers through his hair with a frustrated sigh, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he stares at the computer screen.

Jaemin returns back to his work without another thought, wanting to focus on his main priority of getting this photo done until he hears the front door slam downstairs and his fingers hover above his mouse, listening intently to the sound of someone cursing under their breath as they trip and stumble up the staircase, heading towards the bedrooms.

He believes it’s Jeno at first, knowing how he likes to go straight up to his room after indulging himself in a few beers and shots, and fall asleep to wake up early in the morning and workout the hangover away.

But he’s surprised when the door to his own bedroom is forced open to see Yangyang standing in the hallway, swaying side to side slightly with a beer bottle in hand. He leans against the door frame to take a sip of the concoction, eyeing Jaemin who stares back unamused.

“What have you done?” Yangyang suddenly asks him and Jaemin is slightly taken back by the question, but he doesn’t show it, opting to just glare at him and he takes note of how glossy his eyes are. It makes Jaemin’s brows furrow when he realises he must’ve been crying and Jaemin bites back the urge to ask him what’s wrong. “I said, what have you done?”

“What are you talking about?” Jaemin mutters with a roll of his eyes, turning his attention back to his computer as he shakes his head. “Get out of my room if you’re going to talk about something stupid. I don’t want to hear it—”

Jaemin’s cut off by Yangyang’s dry chuckle, making him sound a little crazy. “She’s upset, you know. The last time I saw her that upset was when the Eric bullshit happened… So, what have you done?”

Jaemin’s chest tightens at the thought of you being upset, but he can’t help but frown in annoyance as he looks back at Yangyang. “What makes you think I did something wrong? She’s the one that’s been actively ignoring me this entire time, I’ve tried to get her attention and she leaves. I call her, she ignores me. I message her and she either leaves me on read or gives me blunt replies. I’m trying, Yang”

“So you think you did nothing wrong?”

“No, I just—fuck—I don’t know what I—” Jaemin’s words die down in the back of his throat when he notices Yangyang staggering towards him, feeling slightly uncomfortable and intimidated with the way he’s being looked at by him.

Never in his years of knowing Yangyang would he think he would come across as intimidating, or scary for that matter, but with Yangyang standing in front of Jaemin with his face a little too close for his liking, Jaemin has never been so uncomfortable and nervous around Yangyang in his life.

Yangyang’s hazy eyes dance over Jaemin’s face, a halfhearted laugh slipping past his lips, the stench of alcohol and weed hitting Jaemin’s nose which makes him grimace. Yangyang’s eyes swirl with anger, sadness and regret, but it doesn’t stop him from slowly raising his hand to pet Jaemin’s blonde head of hair, not even sympathetically, Yangyang was hurting him a little with his rough touch.

“Talk to Eunbin” Yangyang tells him, dropping his hand from his head to grab his phone and shove it into Jaemin’s hands.

Jaemin’s eyes narrow in on Yangyang, “What?”

“Talk to your ex-girlfriend and ask her about the conversation she had with Y/N” Yangyang knows he shouldn’t have said what he said, having promised you that he wouldn’t tell Jaemin about what happened between Eunbin and you. But he couldn’t stand back and continue watching you get hurt anymore, not when he cares about you so much. “Maybe it’ll finally knock some fucking sense into your head”

Jaemin watches wordlessly as Yangyang leaves his room, slamming the door shut behind himself as he disappears into his own room and Jaemin’s attention drops to the phone in his hands, brows pulled together in confusion at Yangyang’s demands.

But surprisingly, it doesn’t stop him from unlocking his phone to bring up Eunbin and his chat, ignoring the multiple messages she had left behind as his thumbs tap the screen, tongue prodding at his inner cheek as he presses sent.

jaemin: i want to talk to u

“Hi” Eunbin greets him with a pretty smile the next morning, gesturing to the empty seat opposite her in the Dreamies Café and Jaemin slumps down in the seat, staring across the table at Eunbin blankly. “I’m sorry about last night. I completely drank too much and sent a whole bunch of embarrassing messages to you, and then I passed out. I’m really sorry”

He wasn’t exactly thrilled about having to wait an entire night to talk to Eunbin due to the previous conversation he had with Yangyang, how questions repeatedly circled in his head and how he was desperate for answers.

It seemed that your unusual actions were because of the conversation you had with Eunbin, as he tried to ask you before in the classroom, and last night it dawned on him after his brief encounter with Yangyang how serious it must’ve been.

Jaemin just wants to get to the bottom of this.

“I bought you an iced americano, by the way” Eunbin speaks up once again, sliding the plastic cup over the table towards him with another smile. “Extra shot, just how you like it”

“Thanks” He says as his fingers curl around the cup, not in the mood to drink as his other hand fiddles with the green straw, swirling the ice around the drink.

“So,” She leans her elbows on the table, eyes sparkling. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Your conversation with Y/N at your welcoming party” Jaemin immediately answers and Eunbin’s face drops. He eyes her for a few seconds, watching how she uncomfortably shifts in her seat as she sits up straight. “What was it about?”

“Jaemin, I—”

“Don’t lie” His sharp tone surprises Eunbin. “I can’t handle being lied to right now”

“We were just talking about me,” Eunbin says softly as she fiddles with the rings that decorate her fingers, twisting the ring that should belong to him on her middle finger. He glances down at it, the pretty black gemstone taunting him and he snaps his attention back to her. “We talked about me in New York, how stupid I was for doing what I did and leaving you behind”

Jaemin fights the urge to roll his eyes, “Anything else?”

“We talked about you—your friends with benefits situation” That seems to grab Jaemin’s interest and he perks up, leaning on the table to listen closely. “I asked her what was really going on between you both and she told me the truth”

“She did?” He questions, his voice quiet this time, almost like a whisper. “What did she say?”

“That you two are just fucking”

Jaemin doesn’t know why, but his heart crumbles and a pain settles in his chest at that, throat tightening and feeling heavy, making it hard for him to swallow. He’s unable to form words or even process a thought, struggling to solve what he’s actually feeling right now.

His lips press together tightly, leaning back in his chair as he looks out of the window, trying to steady his breathing as it seems to get faster and heavier, knowing that he’s about to panic.

“Jaemin?” Eunbin calls out his name softly to grab his attention and he gives a short hum, letting her know that he’s listening. “Do you like her?”

“It doesn’t matter” He’s quick to say, this time grabbing his drink and taking a sip so he doesn’t have to talk anymore.

Eunbin watches him carefully and the guilt eats her away, a frown making its way onto her face and she realises exactly what’s going on. A wave of sadness consumes her, but it doesn’t overpower the absolute regret she’s feeling and she lets out a shaky breath, “Jaemin, this is my fault”

His eyes immediately dart towards her as he pulls the straw from between his lips, “What do you mean?”

“When I asked her about your situation, she didn’t give me an answer straight away… She only gave me an answer after explaining why I came back home and when I asked her to do something for me,” Eunbin begins, nervously staring down at her hands to avoid Jaemin’s deep gaze. “I told her I wanted a second chance with you and I asked her if she could stop being friends with benefits to see if I can get that second chance…”

Jaemin sits in silence.

“I wanted to show you how much I’ve changed and how much you mean to me” Eunbin explains as she reaches over to grab Jaemin’s hand, gripping his fingers tightly. “Even after everything that happened between us, I still cared for you—still loved you. I wasn’t ready to give that up. I wanted to be selfish and you know first hand that I’m the type of person that will fight for what I want, and I want you… Can you blame me for that?”

Eunbin’s honesty baffles Jaemin to the core, his eyes widening at her every word and he listens to her excuses. She has tears in her eyes, filled with desperation and forgiveness but Jaemin doesn’t see himself giving her what she wants, not with the pent up rage and frustration that fills him.

It had been her after all this time. Eunbin was the one that had been pulling you away from him, making demanding requests as it seems. It makes him feel sick to his stomach, knowing that all your sadness had been not only because of him, but because of Eunbin too.

Jaemin knows deep down that he hasn’t been the most innocent or helpful in this situation. He was the one that allowed Eunbin back into his life, allowing her the possibility of friendship just to keep the peace with himself. But he hurt you in the process. He hurt the one person he cares about the most.

“Jaemin?” Eunbin calls out his name once more, feeling uneasy with how he hasn’t said a word since she confessed. “Please say something”

“You…” Jaemin finally speaks up, tone a little too calm for Eunbin’s liking and she watches with wary eyes, nervously biting down on her bottom lip as the tears threaten to fall. Jaemin dryly chuckles with a shake of his head, his tongue prodding at his cheek in pure anger. “You are pathetic”

Eunbin stills, “Wh—”

“I told you. The second you showed up at my door after your trip, I told you how badly you screwed me over. I told you how shitty you made me feel,” He pauses, a laugh of disbelief slipping past his lips as he smiles. “And you think I would still give you a second chance?”

“Everyone deserves a second chance—”

“But I didn’t want to give it to you” Jaemin cuts her off, causing Eunbin to blink at him in surprise. “I spent months trying to move on from you and I was scared it wasn’t going to work, but when you came home that day and you visited me, I realised how I already did. I felt shocked seeing you, obviously, I didn’t expect you to come home. But there wasn’t a slightest part of me that was still in love with you, willing to give you another chance… it was gone”

Eunbin sucks in a deep breath, “Then what about us hanging out together after it? Did that mean nothing?”

“I was willing to give you a friendship for my selfish reasons,” Jaemin nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders. “I hate drama, especially when I’m in the middle of it. I try to avoid it as much as possible and I thought I was keeping the peace by giving you a chance for friendship… but I realised now how my selfish ways actually hurt everyone else I care about in the process. My friends don’t like you, they’re angry at you, angry at what you did and I put a weight on their shoulders in having you around all because I wanted myself to feel fine”

It’s Eunbin’s turn to be silent now, looking across the table at Jaemin in disbelief at his words.

“I got my closure with you, Eunbin. I shouldn’t have kept you around after that” Jaemin admits and suddenly, it feels like a weight has been lifted off of Jaemin’s chest and he can finally breathe, air flowing freely through his lungs.

He smiles to himself—a real smile, the most genuine one he’s given in the past few days and then he laughs, another real sound rumbling from his chest as he peaks with happiness, staring over at Eunbin with a beam as she stares back at him with sadness and guilt.

“Thank you, Eunbin” Jaemin suddenly thanks her and she looks at him confused, watching as he stands up from the table. “Thank you for helping me come to my senses”

“Wait, where are you going?” She asks him, abruptly standing up from her own chair, causing it to scrape against the ground and customers stare over at the table in curiosity.

Jaemin smiles again, shoving his hands inside his pockets. “I’m gonna go make things right”

“I miss Haru” Miwoo pouts over breakfast, stabbing her fork into her plate of scrambled eggs as she scrolls through Instagram on her phone, her pouting quickly disappearing and replaced with a look of awe as she angles the screen towards her. “She looks so pretty”

“The one she posted last night was pretty too” You add with a smile, staring at the photo. “I’m glad she’s having fun. She deserved the break”

“I wish she shoved me in her suitcase” Miwoo mumbles, pulling the phone back from you. “I would love to be anywhere but here right now”

“You and me both” You can’t help but mutter, spooning your cereal and bringing it up to your mouth for a bite, chewing softly before swallowing. “Are you okay? I mean, generally, are you okay?”

“I’m fine” She hums with a simple nod. “I think I’m fine”

“You think?”

Miwoo frowns this time, seemingly worried. “Am I not supposed to feel fine or something?”

“No, no, it’s not that” You shake your head, giving her a reassuring smile. “It’s just that I was talking to Haru before she left and she mentioned that you said some things to her, about you and Jeno” The realisation seems to hit her as her eyes widen slightly and you’re quick to reassure her once again. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, but I just want you to know that I’m here to listen to you and if you want to talk about anything, then—”

“I’m not fine” Miwoo cuts you off, voice vulnerable and honest which immediately surprises you, but you hide your shock as you nod your head slowly, wanting her to continue at her own pace. “Physically, I’m fine… but mentally, I’m not and I don’t like the feeling”

You dare to ask, “Is it about Jeno?”

“Kind of, yeah” She nods, refusing to meet your gaze as she plays with her breakfast. “I don’t know if it’s because it's my first but breakups are hard… and, as much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m struggling without Jeno. I don’t want to be with him anymore, because I know it’s not good for the both of us. It’s unhealthy, our relationship… but I feel so lost without him. I don’t really know what to do with myself”

“Miwoo…” You frown, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and she sighs, reaching up to grab your hand to hold it tightly in her grasp. You squeeze her hand, allowing her to have her moment as you both sit in silence, watching her facial expressions.

“He was my person. And even though we fought and bickered sometimes, the happy moments completely outweigh it. Jeno made me happy and now I just feel miserable” Miwoo sighs softly, chewing down on her bottom lip. “I miss being with him in a way where we joked around a lot, how we teased each other and just hung out… excluding the sex”

“Maybe you should talk to him?” You suggest, causing her to snap her attention towards you. “He’s still your friend, Miwoo. You’re both still in the group. You haven’t lost him since you broke up… he’s still there, he’ll always be there for you”

Miwoo pulls a face, “But he doesn’t talk to me that much”

“You don’t talk to him that much either. Communication is key”

Miwoo shifts in her chair to face you as she deadpans, “Funny how you give great advice but you can’t take it yourself”

“Hey” You point your fork warningly at her. “Stop turning everything on me”

“Just saying” Miwoo giggles, gently pushing your fork away from her as she sighs. “We’re a couple of girls who struggle to communicate… kinda love that for us”

“You’re insane” You snort, dropping your fork to grab your coffee and take a sip, humming at the taste. “I still think you should talk to him”

“I’ll talk to him if you talk to Jaemin” Miwoo grins at you. “I think it’s a pretty decent deal, don’t you?”

“No”

Miwoo groans as you stand up from the kitchen table, offering to clean up the dishes since she was the one that made breakfast. You hear her mumbling to herself behind you but you pay no mind, filling the sink with hot soapy water to wash the dishes and utensils, allowing yourself to think over her deal.

You would like to talk to Jaemin, somewhat. It could solve a lot of your problems, finally being able to put your real feelings towards him and lay everything out on the table. But it’s the fear of rejection that sits heavy in the back of your mind that stops you from doing anything of the sort.

So, breaking everything off with Jaemin does seem like the right thing to do, even if it leaves you miserable.

It doesn’t take you long to finish washing the dishes, drying your hands on a paper towel and excusing yourself to go to your room but you pause midway when you hear a knock on the door, peering your head over your shoulder at Miwoo as she announces that she’ll go see who it is.

You nod, but you remain still, watching as Miwoo’s figure stands at the door and looks through the peephole and the sound she makes causes you to give her a confused expression, feeling even more confused and curious when she slowly turns around with a knowing smirk on her face.

“It’s for you”

“For me?”

“Yep” She nods with a grin, pulling her phone out of her sweatpants pocket. “I think I’m going to have that talk with Jeno now”

It takes you a moment to realise what she means, your face dropping as it dawns on you, “Miwoo…”

“You got this” Miwoo reassures you as she walks on over, wrapping you up in a warm and comforting hug but your arms lay limp at your sides, unsure of what to do. “Just be honest, okay? Don’t hold back and don’t do anything stupid… communication is key, remember?”

“I can’t believe you’re using my own words against me” You mumble under your breath in disbelief and Miwoo laughs loudly, pressing her lips against your cheek in a sloppy kiss before releasing you, making her way back to the front door and yanking it open.

From her previous statement, you knew Jaemin was standing on the other side. But seeing his face in person, seeing him just a few metres in front of you, your heart thumps wildly in your chest and your palms become sweaty.

Miwoo’s greeting towards Jaemin is brief, a quick ‘hello’ with a hard look as she leaves the apartment, but not before turning around before Jaemin’s back and giving you a thumbs up, something you force yourself to bite back a curse at as you watch her disappear, leaving you and Jaemin alone for the first time in awhile.

“Can I come in?” He’s the first to break the silence, asking you in such a hopeful tone that it makes your throat tighten in panic, feeling like you’re going to be sick as your head starts to swirl so fast you’re afraid you’re going to get dizzy and faint. Jaemin takes a hesitant step forward as he sees the difference in your expression, “Are you—”

“What do you want?” You force yourself to ask, swallowing the lump in your throat and breathing steadily through your nose. You didn’t mean to sound so rude towards him and you regret it the second you see his face drop. “Just—what are you doing here?”

“I want to talk to you” He says, eyes roaming your face with his brows furrowing. “We need to talk, face to face”

You straighten your back, “What is there to talk about?”

The corner of Jaemin’s lips twitch up subtly, “I think you know what we need to talk about”

You mentally pick a fight with yourself as you nod and tell him to come in, watching as he steps inside the apartment and closes the door behind himself. You bring him over to the living room but neither of you sit, continuing to eye each other to see who cracks first and you feel the annoyance bubbling in your veins, biting down on your inner cheek as you cross your arms over your chest.

Unfortunately, it’s you who breaks first.

“Why did you start this friends with benefits situation with me in the first place?” You find yourself asking first, tone slightly harsh and Jaemin blinks at you in surprise, not expecting that to be the first thing you’d ask. You stand your ground this time. “Why, Jaemin?”

His eyes lock on yours. He makes you feel small. You hate it. “You know why”

You let out a dry laugh, “Do I?”

Jaemin shakes his head, “This isn’t what I wanted us to talk about—”

“I want to talk about it” Your finger pokes at your chest. “I want to know. I need to know”

“We started this friends with benefits situation because we missed sex. We told each other at the beginning of it all that we missed sex but didn’t want a relationship to come with it. That’s all it was, you know that” The serious tone Jaemin uses makes you feel sick once again and you couldn’t even bear to look at him, instead finding interest in something in the corner of the room, teeth biting harder down on your cheek to stop the emotions from letting loose. Jaemin’s shoulders sag as he sighs, “Can you please just look at me?”

“I don’t want to” You know you sound childish, especially with how your voice sounds and your stubbornness, but you didn’t really want to look at him, not when you’re on the verge of tears.

Jaemin exhales deeply and you hear him drag his feet across the floorboards, heading straight towards you and you take a step back but Jaemin’s too quick, already standing in front of you with his cold hands coming up to cup your face, forcing you to look at him.

“I—”

“I refuse to believe it, you know” You blurt suddenly, eyes brimming with tears that burn. “I just—I can’t believe it. Not after everything we’ve practically been through together. You believe that this was just sex? That the months we spent together, we were just two friends having sex? To fill that empty void?”

“Wait, I—”

“Do you realise that you were the one that broke the rules we had first? The rules that were supposed to keep us grounded? To not let us stray down that path of feelings? You broke two of those rules in the first week we got into this and now you’re here? Telling me that sex was all it was?”

“Baby, you’re not—”

You cut him off immediately. “Enough with that fucking name”

“Y/N—”

“You left me confused, Jaemin” You’re refusing to let him talk now but you can’t help it, your emotions and your feelings getting the complete best of you. You can’t stop yourself. “I loved what we had, it was fun, but you left me so confused. You would do things and you would say things that can be interpreted into something completely different. Then the exclusive shit happened and even though it was something I agreed to, it shouldn’t have happened. We went too far”

Jaemin’s hands slowly drop from your face as a frown slips across his, “Do you regret becoming exclusive with me?”

“Sometimes” You admit, causing him to frown deeper and you notice the look of hurt that flashes in his eyes. “This type of situation always gets messy if ‘official’ or ‘exclusive’ titles are added to it. That’s why people set boundaries, rules. But they were constantly being broken by the littlest of things you did… But don’t worry, it was me who ended up being the biggest fool out of the two of us, right?”

“What do you mean?”

You laugh half-heartedly, shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter if you broke the first two rules, Jaemin. I was the idiot that broke the biggest one of all”

Jaemin stares at you now, eyes wide as he repeats with a whisper, “What do you mean?”

“Rule number three, genius” You snort out a laugh. You’re aware of how much of a lunatic you must look right now, laughing with tears sliding down your cheeks, but you can’t bring yourself to care as the emotions you’ve been trying to conceal come slipping through the cracks. “Rule number three was no feelings involved… No. Falling. In. Love”

Jaemin’s unable to gather the right words to vocalise how he’s feeling, opting to just continue staring at you which makes you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

The weight of the subtle confession has been lifted off of your chest, but with how he’s staring at you silently is making you feel worse. You don’t know if you want the ground to swallow you whole or if you want to kick Jaemin out of your apartment, to shut the door in his face and forget everything that just happened, but you know that’s not going to happen.

So, you decide to keep going. To bite the bullet. To tell him everything.

“I’ve always had some sort of feeling towards you, but I realised I fell for you when Eunbin came back. How jealous and uneasy I felt when she was around or if you were with her. I tried to make excuses for it, but every kiss you gave me—every touch—I realised that I was far too fucking deep and some stupid part of me believed for the smallest moment, you might’ve felt the same way… but nothing changed. Nothing was said. You were still acting as you always did… closed off and unreadable”

Jaemin hangs his head low in shame. He knows well enough he’s closed off and unreadable, having become the type of person that hides his emotions and feelings towards anything and everything. He feels shame for hurting you with it all, not realising the effect it could leave on you and he sighs, an apology resting on the tip of his tongue and he goes to give it to you, but you start talking again.

“Truthfully, I don’t know anything about you” You tell him, rubbing the tears off of your cheeks. “You constantly have these walls built up around you and you refuse to let anyone in… Not only that, but you refuse to show anyone your feelings. Yet again, it leaves me fucking confused. You confused me and I can’t stand not knowing anything about you, your feelings, your—”

“I appreciate the things I love” Jaemin cuts you off suddenly, causing the words to die down at the back of your throat as you stare at him in surprise. “I appreciate my family for everything they have given me. I appreciate my friends for making memories I’ll never forget. I appreciate my camera for capturing the prettiest pictures for me to see whenever I feel sad. I appreciate sunsets because the colours are warm and comforting. I appreciate coffee because it gets me through the day when I’m exhausted. I appreciate the quietness because sometimes it eases me and allows me to think clearly”

You notice how Jaemin’s breathing gets heavier and you take a cautious step forward, eyeing him as he seems like he’s starting to panic. “Jaemin…”

“And I fucking appreciate you”

You freeze. You can’t move. You can’t breathe.

The words repeat in your head, the meaning of it all, the rawness in his tone. You’ve heard it before, he’s said it to you twice already but you never knew the actual meaning behind it and now, standing in front of him, hearing him say that appreciates the things he loves, it makes your heart thump.

“I’m sorry” Jaemin whispers to you quietly. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for not being honest and real with my feelings. It scares me, it has since everything with Eunbin—but I’m at fault too, I can’t put the entire blame on her. I hold myself back and I do things for selfish reasons… but I can’t keep doing that. It hurts people around me when I do and most importantly, it hurts you. I can’t handle hurting you. You mean too much to me”

He takes a few steps forward to stand close in front of you, reaching for your hands and caressing them in his own, thumbs smoothing over your knuckles before holding them in his grasp.

“Eunbin told me everything earlier, about what she asked you to do at the party” Your brows raise in shock at that, not expecting Eunbin to be the one that confesses first. “I don’t like Eunbin. I’d never give her a second chance, ever. You’re the only person that matters to me, so… don’t give up on me yet. Don’t let me go”

You can’t help but give him a teary smile, laughing softly as you squeeze his hands, the warmth in your chest spreading, “You still want to continue as exclusive fuck buddies?”

“God, no” Jaemin laughs at that, noticing your teasing tone before he smiles gently at you. “I want to be your boyfriend”

“My boyfriend?” You grow shy, feeling a little flustered and Jaemin’s grin widens at your reaction, leaning forwards to press a soft kiss to your forehead, trailing his lips down to your cheeks and placing a few kisses there. He reaches your nose next, leaving another soft kiss on the tip before his lips brush over your own.

“I’m ready to be your boyfriend if you’re ready to have one” He whispers against your lips and you nod, wanting to close the gap between you both but Jaemin leans back slightly, shaking his head. “Ask me first. I want to hear you say it”

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Yeah” Jaemin grins happily with a nod, letting go of your hands to cup your cheeks. “Yeah, I’ll be your boyfriend”

He presses his lips to yours gently and you kiss back almost instantly, lips moving slowly against one another as you melt in his touch, your own hands coming up to rest on the nape of his neck, threading his hair through your fingers.

The kiss turns feverish in seconds, a clash of tongue and teeth, a little nibbling and groping, and you break the contact to let out a surprised yelp when Jaemin bends down to grip the back of your thighs, hoisting you up in the air and you wrap your legs around his hips so you don’t fall.

He laughs, face muffled in your chest as he blindly carries you to your bedroom, a trip he knows awfully too well that he doesn’t make any mistakes or falls even when he’s unable to see the view.

He closes your bedroom door behind himself with a simple kick of his foot before he drops you on the bed, his own body falling above yours and you laugh as he huffs, shuffling his way between your thighs with a grin.

You expected him to kiss you again, to leave you breathless and wanting him but you’re surprised when Jaemin does nothing but caress your face softly, stroking your cheek and tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb.

He’s smiling so gently at you that it makes your heart flutter, the look in his eyes causing you to shy away and look elsewhere but your attention is soon back on him when he whispers your name, leaning down to finally reconnect your lips and you immediately reciprocate, pouring all of your affection and want into the kiss as you lips move against his while your hands fist at his shirt.

Jaemin’s the first to take off his shirt and you follow shortly behind, pulling it over your head and dropping it mindlessly to the floor as Jaemin attaches his lips to your bare chest, leaving light, feathery kisses over your skin and you arch your back with a gasp, watching as he trails over your breast and down your stomach.

His touch is so oddly loving and caring it feels a little foreign, but your chest warms at the thought of him taking his time with you, cherishing this moment and drinking in every part of you.

Jaemin hooks his fingers beneath your sleep shorts and pulls them down your legs along with your panties, and you squirm at the cold air that hits, knees knocking against his side but he pays no mind, deciding to lay on his stomach between your legs.

The sight of him staring at you from his position makes you feel shy, but the arousal builds up inside of you and you lift your hips to coax him into touching you, tasting you and you clench around nothing when he leans in, expecting to feel his lips or even tongue but you whine when you feel him press open mouth kisses across your inner thighs.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” You dare to ask, leaning up on your elbows to look down at him.

He smiles, eyebrow twitching suggestively. “Just taking my time with you, baby”

Without warning, you feel his tongue slowly lap over your slit and you gasp, falling back against the bed as the tip wiggles between your folds before flicking over your clit, causing your hands to fly down to his hair and grip at the roots to ground yourself.

Jaemin seems to be enjoying the moment, moaning in your pussy and he messily slurps you up, sucking on your clit with the right amount of suction that has your body feeling electrified, a cry falling past your lips at the pleasure that swirls in the pit of your tummy.

You start roll your hips against his face, tightening your hold on his hair and Jaemin groans, the vibration on your pussy inching you closer and closer to your orgasm, and Jaemin takes it upon himself to hook one hand under your knee to push it up at an angle that helps him burying himself further in between your legs, mouthing at all the right places.

“Fuck” You curse loudly with a moan, unable to control your sounds as your orgasm builds up faster, the band in your tummy tonighting as your pussy clenches around the tip of his tongue that dips inside of you, the pressure and pleasure becoming too much for you to handle that the band snaps as you cum on his tongue.

“Good girl” Jaemin praises you softly, lapping you up eagerly as he helps ride out your orgasm, grinning as he feels your thighs tremble.

You struggle to catch your breath, dry panting as you arch your hips away from his mouth and Jaemin’s chest rumbles with a laugh, letting go of your thigh as it drops limply to the bed as he crawls up your body to kiss your lips.

You taste yourself on his tongue and you moan, returning the kiss and sucking on his tongue to which he responds by rutting his hips into yours, confined cock pressing against your inner thigh.

“Take them off” You whisper into the kiss, hands grabbing at his jeans. “Please...take them off”

“Okay” Jaemin hums, tongue intertwining with yours as his own hands reach down to pop the buttons on his jeans, awkwardly shoving them down his legs along with his boxer briefs before kicking them off to the side.

You dip your hand down between your bodies to wrap your fingers around his cock, causing him to groan between the kiss as you pump him leisurely, feeling intoxicated with the way he pants against your lips, mouth agape as his breathing gets heavier and heavier with each tug of your hand.

You guide him to your entrance, coating his cock with your arousal as you slide the tip through your folds and Jaemin deeply exhales, pressing his lips together and he cranes his head down to see you position his cock and you awaiting hole, and he pushes his hips forwards, breaching your entrance.

A strangled moan leaves your lips, having nothing of that significant size been up there in a while and Jaemin coos softly, taking your hand in his own to give it a gentle, reassuring squeeze as you both watch where you’re connected.

He sinks into you deeper as he kisses you, rolling his hips to thrust slowly, allowing your legs to wind around his waist and he brings your interlocked hands above your head, pushing them into the pillow as he gets comfortable above you.

This kiss is needy and affectionate, and each fluid roll of his hips has you seeing stars behind your closed lids, unable to control the sounds that leave your lips and Jaemin’s the same, cursing and grunting every time he bottoms out inside and you squeeze around him in return.

Your grip on his hand tightens as your stomach knots, breaking the kiss to allow yourself to breathe when you begin to struggle for oxygen, staring up at him in bliss and he’s smiling down back at you, eyes dazed and lids fluttering with every roll of his hips.

But he buries his face into the crevice of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses on your skin as the pace of his thrusts start to quicken, the wet noises of your pussy sucking in his cock fills the room along with your shameless noises of pleasure, and your free hand reaches up to grab the back of his head, threading your fingers through the roots as you nip at his shoulders.

“I’m gonna cum” You pant heavily as you feel yourself tinkering towards your second orgasm of the night.

“Me too, baby” He mumbles, groaning as your walls clamp around his cock. “Fuck, me too”

Your hand tightens around his as you reach your climax, whining as your legs tremble around his hips as the knot in your stomach loosens, cumming all over his cock. The feeling of your walls gripping him like a vice triggers his own climax and he’s moaning into your neck, releasing with long spurts that paint your insides and you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up, the warmth spreading.

He stays above you for quite some time, basking in each other's presence and collecting your breath, staring at one another with giddy smiles which causes you both to laugh.

You love being with him like this, holding him in your embrace and seeing the happiness written across his face, the love and adoration that swirls in his eyes when he looks down at you and even though it makes you feel shy, you can’t help but get addicted to it. It’s something you want to see all the time. He looks so beautiful.

“Hey…” You say softly and Jaemin hums to let you know you’ve got his attention, leaning into your palm when you rest it on his cheek. “I appreciate you”

His eyes widen a little at your words, but the smile gets bigger on his lips and he turns his head to the side to gently kiss your palm before looking back at you, honesty and tenderness within his tone as he says back, “I appreciate you too”

➤𝗘𝗣𝗜𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘.

“YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!” Miwoo screams as Donghyuck takes her by the arms and Yangyang by her legs as they both carry her towards the shore, threatening to throw her into the sea for her teasing jokes towards them both, neither of them backing down as they step into the water.

You laugh as you watch the scene play out, bringing the bottle up to your lips to take a sip as you rest back into Jaemin’s chest who sits behind you, his arms winding around your waist and kissing your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder, watching the trio along with you.

Haru and Renjun sit on the beach blanket beside you both, his arm thrown around her shoulder and she resting into his side, mindlessly playing with his fingers as they speak quietly to themselves about something you can’t make out.

Jeno and Shotaro are sat on the other end of the beach blanket, the former getting up to join in with the trio while the latter stays seated, capturing pictures of the chaotic moment while laughing loudly, causing you and the others to laugh along.

The foursome arrive back to the group and Miwoo flops down beside Haru, grinning happily as the others take a seat too and she grabs her beer, raising it up in the air.

“I’d like to make a very dramatic speech and if none of you are crying by the end of it, I will drown you in the sea”

“Oh here we go” Renjun groans, but the smile on his face shows how much he’s teasing.

“I just want to say that I’m proud of us. We’ve come a long way since the beginning and I’m happy we’re still here together… I don’t think I would’ve been able to become the person I am today without you guys by my side”

Donghyuck starts to playfully fake gag and Miwoo huffs, throwing her middle finger up at him and he begins to smile, returning her insult with some heart hands.

“She’s right,” Shotaro agrees, raising his own bottle and Miwoo grins. “I get happy being with you guys. I wouldn’t want it any other way”

“Shotaro” Donghyuck coos as he reaches out to pinch Shotaro’s cheeks and Yangyang throws himself at him, the pair tumbling back into the sand as they laugh.

“Also,” Miwoo starts up again, looking over at you this time. “I want to congratulate you on signing up for the writers trip you’ve been holding off for so long. You deserve to explore and write about all the places you see”

“Stop…” You chuckle, a little embarrassed under the attention and you feel Jaemin’s chest vibrate behind you as he laughs, pulling you closer to him and intertwining your hands, soothing his thumb over your knuckle. “I’m excited to go, but I’m sad to be leaving you guys”

“You’re acting like you’ll be gone forever” Yangyang says as he nudges your leg with a smile. “You’re only going for a few months”

“I know” You sigh, “I just know I’ll miss you guys”

“We also need to congratulate Haru and Renjun for taking the next step” Jeno announces as he looks at the pair. “Congratulations on moving in together”

“Finally away from you idiots” Renjun teases as he takes a sip of his drink and Haru shoulders him softly with a laugh. “Thanks, Jen”

Shotaro turns to Miwoo worryingly, “Are you going to be okay living on your own for a while?”

“Of course!” Miwoo smiles. “Y/N’s only going to be gone for a few months and I need to learn how to be independent, rely on myself for a little while”

“You know, if you need anything, you got us” Donghyuck speaks this time with a serious tone to Miwoo and she nods.

“You always got us” Jeno chimes in this time, smiling over at Miwoo who smiles back happily and knocks her beer bottle against Jeno’s who lifts his up for a cheers and your heart warms at the two.

“The sun is setting, can I take a picture of us all together?” Jaemin asks as he points to his polaroid camera that sits on top of his backpack and the group eagerly agrees, standing up quickly and moving to stand in front of the sunset.

You and Jaemin both rise from the ground and you go to stand beside Miwoo as Jaemin sets up his polaroid to take the picture and you take this moment to appreciate everything that is going on around you, how the happy smiles on everyone's faces warms your heart.

Who would’ve thought that this was the way things would turn out after everything began? It baffles you, really.

If someone told you a few months ago you’d be in a position where you’re happily with Jaemin as your boyfriend, surrounded by a strong friendship group and an upcoming writers trip, you would’ve possibly laughed, calling them stupid and unrealistic… Yet here you are, living out this moment.

You laugh to yourself, shaking your head as you lean into Jaemin as he comes to stand beside you, winding his arm around your waist and pressing his lips to your temple lovingly as he whispers to you those three words.

You’re unable to stop the grin that spreads across your cheeks.

You guess it’s just The Way Life Goes.

A.N| and that's the final of twlg. this had, undoubtedly, been such a wild rollercoaster to make. this fic has brought me a mixture off all different emotions going between happiness and anger, but it's over. and bro. i'm emotional. thank you for all the support you have given this series, it's been incredible, i'll never forget it.

i appreciate you♡

©mrkis

#nct smut #nct angst #nct fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream smut #nct #nct dream #nct jaemin #nct dream jaemin #jaemin fic #jaemin au #nct au #nct series #nct dream fic

1K notes · View notes

starryjaem · 14 days

Text

destiny book one

DREAMING — MARK LEE

↳ skateboarder! mark x fem reader

read the first chapter here

featuring nct dream.

— ♡ —

chapter two

You nervously gulped, the intense eye contact between you both started to intimidate you.

“H-hi.” You stuttered. Clearing your throat, you look over to your best friend and Jeno. You gave your best friend the ‘help me’ look.

You talked to him so easily yesterday, so why is it today different?

Jeno must’ve read the room, because he noticed the nervous look on your face. Before you could speak, Jeno broke the awkward silence surrounding everyone.

“Mark, don’t be awkward.” Jeno laughed, nudging his shoulder.

“Right, well thanks for coming.” Mark smiled at you as he removed his helmet and fixed his messy hair. Mark. That’s his name.

“Okay, so Jeno and I wanted to walk around for a while. I’ll leave you two to yourselves.” Your best friend mentioned, showing you a wink. She was doing you a favor, but you were nervous as hell.

“Have fun.” Jeno waved off, walking away with your best friend. With that, you and Mark were now alone. Not completely, as other skaters were at the park. You tried to play it off like you weren’t nervous.

“So, um, you skateboard?” You started the conversation, hoping that you didn’t seem too awkward around him.

Mark sat down at the bench, taking his glasses out of his glasses case and placing them on his face.

“Yeah, I’ve been skateboarding for almost seven years now.” You nodded your head impressed by his dedication and talent to skateboarding. “Also, I used to compete in skateboarding competitions, not anymore though.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no reason. I just enjoy skateboarding as a hobby now instead of doing it to compete.” You sat down next to him, as you watched him remove his kneepads.

“That’s cool. Did you win any competitions?”

“Many. I was ranked number one in the country for skateboarding.” Was. You were imagining the serious and competitive look on Mark’s face. For some reason, your mind was telling you there was more to the story. But, you didn’t want to keep asking further.

“Anyways, can I see your phone?” You raised an eyebrow at him, very curious about why he asked for your phone. You handed your phone to him, as you were surprised that you even trusted him with your phone.

After unlocking your phone, you watched him click the contacts app. “Can I put my number in here?” He asked, his smile shining so brightly.

“Yeah, you can.” Mark typed his number in your phone, adding his name onto the contact as well. Mark showed you a warm smile. “Do you attend Spring University?” You wanted to know, since you’ve never seen him on campus before.

Mark nodded, “This is my last year.” So he’s a senior. “Oh, okay. I’m a junior.” You were so relieved that you and Mark didn’t have such a awkward conversation. You were enjoying this conversation with him.

Your best friend and Jeno finished their walk around the park, approaching you and Mark once more.

“Did you two have fun?” Jeno teased, showing you and Mark a smirk. Mark rolled his eyes at his best friend’s teasing, immediately standing up from the bench. “We just talked.”

Your best friend looked over at you, seeing the blush that sat upon your cheeks. That warm smile never left your face.

“Let’s hangout again later? We’ll be busy later today so we can’t stay any longer.” Your best friend asked. Mark and Jeno both nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.” That’s when Jeno and your best friend hugged.

You and Mark showed each other a look, trying to figure out the new relationship between your best friend and Jeno. You and your best friend left, a smile stayed on both of your faces.

— ♡ —

“Jeno, did you finally get a girlfriend?” Renjun asked, not taking his eyes away from the book in front of him.

Jeno blushed, remembering the time he spent with your best friend. Jeno hasn’t had a crush on anyone in years. His previous relationships were usually casual, as he wanted nothing more.

However, he wanted someone more with your best friend.

“That’s none of your business.” Jeno says, sitting back against the chair. “Mark has, though.”

Mark looked over at Jeno, his eyes widen as the sudden words left Jeno’s mouth.

“Dude, we just met.” Mark corrected him, knowing how his best friends were, they were gonna ask for every detail of this new girl that he knows.

Renjun placed his book down, slightly pushing his glasses up as he looked over at Mark, with a smirk on his face. “So, where did you meet her?”

Mark knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of this conversation. “At a party.”

Mark felt the connection between you two, but he needed to get to know you more. There’s still so much more about you.. that he wants to know.

With his phone buzzing in his pocket, Mark checked his phone, seeing a text message from you, asking if him and Jeno were home yet.

Mark answered back, smiling warmly at his phone.

“Ah, he’s in love. I bet she texted him just now.” Renjun said to Jeno, as they both see the happiest smile on Mark’s face while looking at his phone.

“I can’t believe it took me almost four hours to finish up preparations for the art club.” Jisung walked into the living room while holding stacks of papers.

Jisung placed the papers on the table, as he fixed his messy hair right after. Jisung sat on the couch, feeling relieved that he was finished with preparations.

“What are you preparing?” Mark asked, trying to change the subject as his best friends kept asking him questions about his love life.

“I have some people coming to the art club next week for our watercolor art project. We’ll be painting pictures of them, so I was responding to their emails to see if they were available on the day we start our project.”

“So, you’re painting pictures of their faces.. with water?” Renjun asked, curious about Jisung’s upcoming preparations.

“Basically. So far, five people have responded back and they’re available.” As Jisung continued to talk about the art club, he mentioned that you were one of the people participating.

Mark looked up from his phone, as he heard your name come out of Jisung’s lips. Mark wasn’t sure when he would see you again, but he wanted to see you as soon as possible.

Even if it meant trying something new.

“Jisung, I’d love to attend your art club event next week.”

— ♡ —

author’s note — hi everyone, quick question. do you prefer reader insert, which is y/n, or stories with ocs? i would love to know so i can keep that in mind for writing my stories in the future 🤍

also, any predictions for the next chapter?

TAGLIST — @lovesuhng @manooffline @nosungluv @ilovejungwonandhaechan @minkyuncutie @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie

please read below!

REMINDER — TO BE ADDED IN MY TAGLIST, YOU MUST BE 18+ AND HAVE YOUR AGE SHOWN ON YOUR BLOG ‼️

©️ starryjaem

168 notes · View notes

luvyeni · 1 year

Text

— CAMERA READY; NCT DREAM 00' LINE (m)

SYNOPSYS. after filming the 5some with your friends for onlyfanz , you find yourself filming solo content with all of them , then feelings get involved.

PAIRINGS. bestfriend!haechan x fem!reader , bestfriend!jaemin x fem!reader ft. the rest of dream , itzy yuna , aespa ningning

GENRE. college au, camgirl au, smau, smut, humour, fluff, angst

WARNINGS. 18+ explicit content , language, twitter humor , death jokes

TAGLIST. just ask if you want to be tagged !

AUTHORS NOTE. yes , i started another series and it's based on this ask right here , it inspired me

PROFILE 1 | PROFILE 2

PART ONE: sugar mommy y/n

PART TWO: don't send your dick in the chat

PART THREE: movie night (written)

PART FOUR: she's delusional

PART FIVE: bitchless loser

PART SIX: #castratemen

PART SEVEN: bare fucking minimum

PART EIGHT: attention (written)

PART NINE: daddy issues

PART TEN: girls night ft. chenji

PART ELEVEN: the evening after

PART TWELVE: jaemin is a hater

PART THIRTEEN: jealous haechan

PART FOURTEEN: jumping jisung 💯❗

BONUS CHAPTERS : coming soon ...

camera ready : jeno version

camera read : renjun version

©️LUVYENI

#nct smau #nct fic #nct smut #nct dream smau #nct dream smut #nct dream fic #nct dream hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts #nct 00 line smut #nct 00 line #jaemin smut #haechan smut #lee jeno smut #renjun smut #renjun x reader #lee jeno x reader #haechan x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream fics

2K notes · View notes

sungiejpg · 2 months

Text

WHO ARE U?; HAECHAN [smau] masterlist

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ pairings: haechan x f!reader

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ tags: college au, smau, fake acc

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ synopsis: when renjun asked her to create a fake twitter acc to take revenge on haechan she did not expect to fall in love

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ warnings: suggestive humour

⊹ characters 01; y/n & friends

⊹ characters 02; haechan & friends

⊹ chapter 01; leave it to me

⊹ chapter 02; pubg mates

⊹ chapter 03: useless

⊹ chapter 04: m y p u s s y i n b i o

⊹ chapter 05: man..?

⊹ chapter 06: sylvanians

⊹ chapter 07: us ❤️

⊹ chapter 08: Im like TT

⊹ chapter 09: who?

⊹ chapter 10: delusional

⊹ chapter 11: giving up

⊹ chapter 12: two

⊹ chapter 13: closure

⊹ chapter 14: scammed

⊹ chapter 15: ALMOST there

⊹ chapter 16: good luck

⊹ chapter 17: YN LIKES ME

⊹ chapter 18: finale

⊹ bonus

#haechan x reader #nct dream fanfic #smau #college au #au #nct #female redeader

199 notes · View notes

ghostofhyuck · 2 months

Text

NCT Dream when you're a bookworm!

AN: As a bookworm, I am so in love with this request! <3

Mark Lee

He's really into it! I feel like Mark's also a book reader, but he leans more on self-help or nonfiction books. He thinks that it's cute when you finished a book and you started reviewing the book to him! Doesn't judge when you're immersed to the book, especially when he sees you reading and you're tearing up or squealing in glee. Also loves to buy you books. He'll pass by the bookstore, enters there, and just scans around the aisle. If he sees one that he thinks you'll love, he'll buy it and gives it to you.

Huang Renjun

Just like Mark, Renjun's really into it! He sometimes would just bug you whenever you're reading because he wants your attention but he just ends up cuddling you while you read. Also bookstore dates are a must! Renjun knows that whenever you two are out on a date or on the mall, you'll end up dragging him to the bookstore and just spend hours to read a few chapters or look for a book that you'll add on your reading list.

Lee Jeno

I feel like Jeno leans more on playing games, so he's not much of a book reader BUT he understands why you love it and he finds it endearing whenever he caughts you cursing at a character or maybe crying because you just finished the book you read. He'll ask you how was it, and he'll be there attentively listening to your rambles about the book, and your review about it. Jeno just keeps on nodding but at the same time his hands just travels around you, wrapping you for a hug.

Lee Donghyuck

Thinks that as a good boyfriend, Haechan should also try to invest to your hobbies the same way you invested to his hobbies (playing games.) so when he tried to approach you and ask for book recommendation, you were so HAPPY about it. You'll recommend him your most favorite, a classic novel that you've been reading ever since you were young. While Haechan finds your love for book cute, he tried to get into it, but knew it wasn't for him. So he just spoil you by buying you books instead.

Na Jaemin

Jaemin is a very attentive boyfriend. I feel like as an introvert, his past time is also reading books. So he'll be the type to read the books that you recommended to him. Some may be cheesy especially those YA romance novels, but I feel like Jaemin's personal taste leans more on the mystery side of a novel. So when you two meet, he'll tell you that he just finished the book you gave to him, and you'll be overjoyed when you hear your boyfriend's review about it.

Zhong Chenle

I feel like Chenle understands your love for book. He often spoil you too by buying books whenever you two stop by the bookstore. He also loves giving you space whenever you're reading a book OR he'll be beside you just doing what he wants. (like leaning against you or maybe playing with your hair.) but I feel like Chenle is also the type to judge your personal taste when it comes to books. "what do you mean you like the male lead, isn't he a killer!?!?!"

Park Jisung

LISTEN. Jisung is also a bookworm. Actually he's more of a manga reader. I think that he's a huge fan of anime, so he also reads manga or maybe manhwa. That's why your past time sometimes just involved books. You two will be in the living room, reading books quietly. Then suddenly one of you stops halfway frustrated because the flow of the story, that's why the latter will stop reading too just to listen to the former's rant. OH. And you two have a shared bookshelf in your apartment. It's full of manga books and novels! <3

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct x reader #nct #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream reactions #nct mark #nct jeno #nct renjun #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

355 notes · View notes

sluttyten · 9 months

Text

You In My Arms

Chapter 10: I'm Yours

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: During those first few months of your relationship, you and Haechan explore each other and adventure into new areas with each other. Not without some bumps along the way.

length: 15,168 words

tags: friends to lovers, general perversion, smut, public sex, period sex, somnophilia, light consensual non consent, voyeurism, exhibitionism, etc.

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

Falling in love isn’t just about having sex. Obviously. But for you and Haechan, it is a big part.

You have a healthy, active sex life.

Over those first couple months of your relationship, it’s hard to keep your hands off each other.

Whether in private or in public, it doesn’t matter for either of you. At first, you definitely don’t care who sees.

Like when you go over to Haechan and YangYang’s apartment, and after you’ve made a delicious dinner, Haechan fucks you against the sink in the kitchen, his hand over your mouth to keep your moans from echoing out of the room to where YangYang sits on the sofa. His back is to you, but all he’d really have to do is just turn his head and he’d be able to see you getting railed. Not that you care, and not that you think YangYang would really care if he caught you. Haechan has told you about all the times that he’s pretty sure YangYang let him listen to him have sex, that he even left his door cracked open for Haechan to watch.

There’s a time when you sleep over at Haechan’s, and in the morning he neglects to warn you that a visitor has arrived. YangYang isn’t there, so you feel comfortable enough to walk out of Haechan’s bedroom to where he stands in the kitchen, to draw him into a kiss, to let him lift you up to sit on the countertop, and you urge his fingers between your thighs.

Of course, that’s when Renjun emerges from the bathroom and finds Haechan two fingers deep in your pussy.

“Embarrassed?” Haechan teases, kissing you on the cheek, his kiss only serving to deepen the heat of your blush. “It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, right?”

Renjun laughs at that. “Should I return the favor, Haechan? Watch you with her since I know you watched us?” He gestures between you and himself.

Haechan’s hand that rests on your thigh tightens. He leans over you a bit possessively, staring at Renjun until you lift a hand to Haechan’s cheek.

With your fingertips pressing against his cheek, you guide his attention back to you, his lips down to yours.

Before you meet Haechan’s kiss, you groan, “Go away, Renjun.”

He laughs again. “You know, I was invited here by your boyfriend to go eat breakfast.”

Haechan’s lips twitch into a smile. “Plans changed. You can’t have any of what I’m going to eat.”

Then it is your turn to laugh as Haechan ducks down to kiss and nip at your throat. You grasp his shoulders, ignoring the way Renjun grumbles, “Gross,” before he turns and walks out of the apartment.

Haechan and you have sneaky sex at work too.

One horribly stormy day, the two of you are coming back from lunch when the power goes out in the building, stalling the elevator you’re in like a perfect sexy cliche. You take full advantage of it, and you sink to your knees for him. Haechan cums on your tongue and your chin, and then he spends the rest of the time that you’re trapped in there to kiss the taste of himself from you.

There’s a late evening when you’re both still at work even though on a normal day you’d have left hours ago. You’re in the break room when Haechan sneaks up behind you and pins you against the countertop. “I’ve been thinking about doing this all day,” he groans, “This dress looks too good on you, baby.” You stand still, sinking into the feeling of his hands on your body, lifting the back of your dress up, and neither of you make any attempt to hide what you’re doing.

There are still a few people left in the office even at this late hour, but they’re all bowed over their work at their desks, not paying any attention to you and Haechan in the break room with the door nearly shut. But anyone could walk in at any moment, and that possibility sparks a thrill inside both of you.

“Let them know,” Haechan says directly into your ear. “Let them all know that you’re a perfect angel for me, letting me do whatever I want with you, whenever I want.”

You didn’t really consider Haechan to be a jealous man, but it certainly drives him a little wild when Yuta gets a little too flirtatious with you one day. Haechan knows about that brief little history you have with your coworker — you’ve both been perfectly open and honest about your sexual histories — which just invites enough jealousy in him that Haechan stays late with you that day so he can fuck you at your desk. He presses between your shoulder blades until your chest is flat against the desk, and with each of his deep, brutal thrusts your hips slam against the edge of your desk, hard enough to bruise. You love it, though; you love the way that he tries so hard to make sure that you don’t forget about him (which there is absolutely no risk of), and he tugs down the neckline of your dress, biting down on the soft part of your shoulder to leave a mark, as if laying his claim on you.

During spring, right in that pocket of time when the days are finally warming up, when the air buzzes with insects and the heady scent of blooming flowers, freshly trimmed grass, and new green things sprouting, you and Haechan start to explore public exhibitionism a little more. Lunch dates in the park on warm days mean cute little sundresses that are easily flipped up for Haechan to finger you right there in the middle of a wide grassy stretch with passersby none the wiser.

Warmer days mean that you break out some strappy tops, which are easier for you to slip off your shoulder, freeing a nipple or even the whole breast for Haechan to stare at hungrily while you sit across from him at an ice cream shop.

You know people have to spot the two of you as you play these risky games. But if they do, no one makes it obvious.

Until one day.

You know for certain that an older man — mid-forties and handsome, his hair just beginning to get a bit silver at the temples, wearing a suit that is perfectly tailored to him — catches you during brunch one morning.

It’s a small, crowded cafe. You’re in the back corner, but there are still a decent amount of tables around you, enough that it’s quite risky when you lean forward with your elbows on the table, revealing to Haechan the way that your dress has “accidentally slipped” and both of your tits peek out over the top of your dress.

“Goddamn it,” Haechan groans. “You’re gonna do this to me now?” He glances around. “We haven’t even gotten our food yet.”

“And?” You do your best to maintain a face of perfect innocence even as your nipples grow hard beneath Haechan’s attention and the cool air of the cafe. “That just means we have more time for fun.”

You slide one foot out of your sandal, and you lift it into Haechan’s lap. He reaches down, curling his hand around your ankle as your toes explore along the length of his thigh, dipping against the front of his pants until you find the rise of his cock. Of course he’s already half-hard from the sight of your tits. And as you caress him with your toes and the arch of your foot beneath the table, as he keeps looking at your tits, Haechan only grows harder.

You pull your dress back up over your chest when the waitress returns, sliding your brunch onto the table, replacing your half-drained mimosas. But you leave your foot in Haechan’s lap. There’s a table cloth draped over the table anyway, so it’s not like she notices anything amiss. But after she walks away, after one of the few tables around you in this back corner finishes their brunch and leaves as well, you tug your dress down enough that your tits are at risk of spilling out. You keep your foot moving over Haechan’s erection straining against the front of his pants.

Someone nearby loudly clears their throat, but you don’t look away from your plate. Haechan however tenses up a little, his hand squeezing your ankle. But he doesn’t push you away, doesn’t tell you to stop. So you keep going, eating and enjoying your brunch while you also enjoy getting your boyfriend off.

Haechan ordered more food than you, so he takes longer to eat. You’re completely finished when he’s only about halfway done. And since you are somewhat bored, you pull your top back up and instead put all of your attention into what you’re doing in his lap instead. Haechan, to his credit, only twitches a little when your toes suddenly find the zipper of his pants, when you pinch the zipper between your toes and drag it down. The button fastening his pants is a little harder to navigate, but luckily he helps you out with that, reaching down and quickly flicking it open so you can get your toes there to stroke him over his underwear now.

“What is it that you want here?” Haechan asks. He glances around, his eyes lingering a little extra long on a table to your left.

“Take it out,” you tell him.

Haechan’s attention lowers to his plate, his lips curving upwards as he asks, “And then what?”

“Then that’s up for you to decide.” You draw your foot out of his lap. “But if you finish your brunch and finish yourself, I may have a special gift for you later.”

Usually Haechan is in charge of special gifts for you. You don’t usually give him things, rather allowing him to dote on you. Over the weeks that have suddenly stretched into months since this relationship began, you’ve fallen a lot more comfortably into the idea of Haechan being in charge, Haechan being dominant. Not that he’s extremely dominating or anything like that, but he likes taking care of you, likes being in charge and seeing you submit to him — though sometimes that means fucking you until you’re crying and letting him do pretty much anything he wants until you spit out a safeword; sometimes it means something entirely non-sexual like just letting him baby you and take care of you after a long day with cuddles and a nice warm shower; and then in either a sexual or non-sexual situation he gives you gifts, just little things that range from a snack to a sex toy.

But overall, you’re not the one with special surprises for him. So this catches his attention.

You can tell the moment when the hand Haechan drops into his lap frees his cock. You can tell by the ease of his shoulders, the quick flicker in his eyes when he glances around at the surrounding tables. He’s tucked up beneath the table cloth, but you’re sure he’s wondering if they can still tell what he’s doing. This is more exposure than Haechan is used to. Typically it’s you exposing yourself while Haechan watches or touches. The roles are reversed this morning, and you can’t even see him touching himself really. But you can see it in his face, you can see the movement in his arm, feel the shuffle of his feet beneath the table as they bump against yours in an effort to maybe hide his actions even more beneath the table, and you can hear the way his breathing changes as he strokes his cock with one hand while attempting to maintain a semblance of normalcy by continuing to eat his brunch with the other hand.

You watch Haechan’s expression, noting the way that he’s quickly edging up to his breaking point. He drops his fork to his plate, lifting his hand instead into a fist in front of his mouth. His eyes snag on yours, telling you without words that he’s about to cum.

Your elbow knocks into your own plate, dislodging your utensils. The knife falls to the floor, and before Haechan has time to react, you drop to the floor. Your fingertips bump against the knife, pushing it deeper under the table, and you sink beneath the table cloth on your hands and knees. And come face to face with exactly what you’d hoped to see.

Haechan’s hand looks beautiful as he pumps his pink-tipped erection.

To his credit, Haechan only barely flinches when you lean in, lifting a hand to take over from his, and you put your mouth right over his tip to suck. Just a couple pumps of your hand along his length, and Haechan cums, spilling on your tongue.

You’re a good girl, as he tells you all the time, so you swallow it all down.

You even tuck his cock away again before grabbing the knife from the floor and climbing out from under the table into your seat.

And that’s when you notice the suited older man watching you. Haechan spots him too. You both know you’re caught, and Haechan immediately blushes with embarrassment.

It’s when the man doesn’t look away that the blush fades from Haechan’s cheeks, and instead anger begins to paint his expression. By that point you’re sitting fully back in your seat, your back to the man, and the pair of you are waiting for the waitress to come back after you’ve given her Haechan’s card to pay. But it’s clear in the way that Haechan keeps looking over at the man, with your boyfriend’s expression growing darker and darker, that the man is still looking.

Haechan is not an overly jealous man – he has admitted to you on more than one occasion that he still sometimes thinks about you with Renjun, even rewatches that video in his phone when he can’t be with you, and it’s not jealousy he feels in those moments but intense arousal – but sometimes he can’t help displaying a bit of jealousy and possessiveness. And that morning is one of those moments.

The man gets up to leave before the waitress returns with Haechan’s credit card. You watch Haechan’s expression as he looks the man up and down as he approaches your table on his way out, and then to your surprise the man pauses right beside you.

You’re tense. Haechan looks ready to spring.

The man slides some cash onto the table right in front of you. And then he touches your shoulder, saying in a greasy tone, “For the show, darling.”

Haechan shoves angrily back from the table, but his face is impassive as he reaches over and calmly removes the man’s hand from your shoulder. “Don’t touch her.”

The man snorts derisively.

The waitress obliviously slides Haechan’s card back onto the table and bustles off to one of her other tables. You grab the card, grab the cash the man slipped you, and you stand up.

“For the record,” you tell the man, “I’m not a whore, but I will take your fucking money.”

You pocket Haechan’s card and the man’s cash, step clear around the man, and take Haechan’s hand.

You leave the cafe quickly, hoping to get clear away from the man. This is of course a risk of doing anything sexual in public — getting caught by a pervert. It was one thing when the pervert you hoped to be caught by was Haechan, but a perfect stranger who feels entitled to come up and speak to you? To touch you? To pay you as if you’re a common whore?

Haechan fumes beside you the whole walk back to where you parked your car. And as soon as you’re alone behind the cover of your car’s tinted windows, he reaches over the center console and cups your face in both of his hands, dragging you into a ferociously possessive kiss.

You lay off the exhibitionism for a short time after that. You take the time to truly savor having each other in the privacy of your bedroom or his. You kinda chill it on the crazy sexual hormones then for a bit as you slip out of the honeymoon phase of your relationship where everything still feels brand new and exciting and you’re both constantly horny for each other. Instead, you focus a little more on work to aim for a promotion that Taeil has been hinting someone will be receiving. And when that time arrives, and the promised promotion is given to you over everyone else, you celebrate with Haechan.

You take him out to dinner somewhere nice where the two of you gorge yourselves with delicious, rich food and sweet wine. For dessert, you feast on each other at home in your apartment, savoring each last bit of each other until you collapse in a tangled heap of sweaty limbs in your bedsheets.

You don’t leave bed the next morning, just pick up where you left off the night before. You forget everything that morning except for the taste of Haechan’s skin, the feel of him inside you, the sound of his breath and his moans and your name from his tongue.

Both of you are still deeply caught up in each other, though in a more gentle and intimate fashion as he holds you against his chest beneath the covers, rolling his hips forward while he buries his face in your hair.

To anyone who might happen upon the scene, it could maybe almost look like you’re just spooning while oversleeping late into the morning.

Or at least that’s what you hope it looks like when your family surprises you by dropping in for a somewhat unannounced visit.

Truthfully, you’d just forgotten that you had plans with them that day, that they were in the city to visit with you. You’d thought any plans you had would be much later in the day, but also you had certainly lost track of time all tangled up with Haechan.

So when your bedroom door suddenly opens and you look up into the faces of your parents and one sibling, you pray to every god that anyone has ever believed in that your family members don’t realize that Haechan is currently balls-deep inside you.

It’s your dad that reacts first.

He laughs and then backs out of the room, pushing your sibling behind him, pulling your mom along too. The door closes.

“Fucking shit. Oh my god. Haechan….” You make a valiant attempt at suffocating yourself in your pillow.

Haechan laughs a little, although the sound is halfway between amusement and awkwardness. He pulls out of you, rolling over to the edge of your bed. He starts getting dressed, but you don't move until Haechan slides back in bed with you, his hand stroking along your spine.

“Let’s go face your family.” He whispers, placing a kiss right behind your ear. “Maybe they’ll be so proud of your promotion they’ll forget what they just walked in on.”

Doubtful.

“I can’t go out there,” you groan into the pillow.

Haechan makes a sympathetic noise. “Should I at least go introduce myself?”

You twist around, catching his hands in yours. “No! You can’t go out there either!”

Now he fully laughs at you, dipping down to kiss you briefly. “You’d rather we stay in here and they think that we’re still having sex even though they’re sitting in your living room, baby? Come on, get up.”

You get dressed quickly, and you leave the bedroom first. Haechan lingers behind.

Your family is arrayed on the furniture in the living room, and you curse yourself mentally for ever giving them a copy of the key to your apartment. Your sibling is still laughing, and your parents are silently communicating with each other through a series of facial expressions and direct eye contact.

Only once you sit down across from them do any of them actually look at you. And a second later when your dad’s eyes slip behind you toward the direction of your bedroom door, you know that Haechan has emerged.

“This is Haechan,” you announce, “My boyfriend.”

That causes a few raised eyebrows. You’ve mentioned Haechan several times over the years, and within the last couple of months you’ve definitely mentioned that you’re dating someone. You’d just not ever told them that Haechan and your boyfriend were one and the same.

Haechan comes to sit right beside you, immediately reaching for your hand to hold one in both of his. You try to tuck away a rising smile as you notice the way his fingers are trembling nervously.

“Hello,” he nods, greeting your family. “Nice to meet you all.”

You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back, glancing over at you. Now you really smile at him, unable to hold it back. Yeah, this is kinda awkward having your family meet him right after they walked in on you together, but with Haechan by your side, you know it’ll be alright.

And it certainly is.

Haechan charms them spectacularly. It probably helps that he spends the entire day praising you, boasting to them about how you just received a promotion at the Moon Corporation where you work together. Apparently his constant adoration of you makes the fact that they walked in on you and him this morning okay. How can your parents disapprove when Haechan puts on his best face with them?

He makes recommendations for a place for all of you to grab dinner later that evening, and he compliments both of your parents and cracks jokes with your sibling, and every chance he gets, he holds your hand or puts his arm around you, looking hopelessly devoted and in love with you.

He completely wins your family over.

Later that night after dinner, Haechan goes back to his own apartment. Tonight you’ll be sleeping separately for the first time in weeks, and the thought of that is slightly upsetting, but your family comes back to your apartment with you.

There’s some maintenance thing that your dad agrees to help you and your roommate with, and she’s better with tools than you are. She’s back at the apartment by that point, so she assists your dad with the project. Your sibling watches, and you and your mom sit in the living room to talk.

“He’s nice.” Your mom has been quiet for a while when she says that, and after a split second pause, she clarifies, “Haechan. He’s a good boy.”

“He is,” you agree. Nevermind all of his qualities that you’re quite intimate with that would definitely make him fall into a Not Good Boy category if your mom knew about them.

She smiles. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this with anyone before. Smitten. You’ve always kind of had a look in your eye when you’ve talked about him. Even years ago, when you went away for school, you would FaceTime us and tell us stories about your friends, and you would get this smile on your face when you mentioned him.” She laughs lightly and gestures at your face, “It’s the same smile you’ve had all day when you look at him. Back then I knew it was only a matter of time, but I never thought it would take this long for your little crush to become something more.”

“Trust me,” you sigh, “Neither did I. I was resigned to just being his friend, but then he finally made a move.”

Your mom nods. “How long has it been?”

“A few months.” You can’t believe that the time has passed by so quickly. The first kiss still feels fresh in your mind, the first date like it’s just happened although the temperature has long since turned from the bitter cold it had been that night.

“You look happy,” she comments, and you notice a shimmer of emotion in her eyes as she says, “I’m so happy for you. He seems really good for you, and even if your dad teases you about him, just know that he really likes him too.”

That blooms a warm feeling in your chest. Not that you need your family’s approval to validate your relationship with Haechan, but it certainly still feels really good to know that they’re happy that you’re happy with him.

“Just, please,” your mom laughs, “Don’t think I’m rushing you when I say that I would love some cute grandbabies sooner rather than later.”

“Mom!”

With the pair of you taking a step back from the riskiness of public sex, you decide to instead explore some other interests of yours and his in the safety and privacy of your apartments.

Haechan wants to try out a bit of consensual non-consent, which here means him surprising you while you’re asleep, doing what he wants to you — light touches to turn you on without waking you up, his fingers buried inside you while he feeds you just the tip of his cock.

You were intrigued by the idea of being a toy for him, so you agreed on the condition that you wanted to know afterwards what he’d done.

Haechan filmed it so you could see how he took his time exploring your body, leaving hickeys scattered across your belly. He played with your tits for a while before he started to finger you, and that was when he finally hit the point where he seemingly couldn’t take it any longer, and he just had to feel your lips around his cock.

You’d woken as soon as he came down your throat, startled awake, coughing and gagging on the taste of it.

You’d returned the favor a few days later, curious about what it was like to play with someone sleeping.

Haechan had stayed out late the night before, letting himself into your apartment at half past three. He’d passed out on your bed, and stayed in exactly that position from that moment until even after you woke around eight o’clock.

He was unaware of the world around him, and when you knelt on the floor beside his side of your bed, he’d not even twitched as you pulled away the covers to free his dick to your access. You kissed his thighs and hips, stroked your fingers along his inner thighs.

And then you’d given him your mouth. Kisses along his cock from balls to tip. You’d used your hand to touch him too while you moved your mouth to his chest to tease his nipples. Haechan’s cock swelled in your hand, and you couldn’t help but feel powerful to have him reacting to you like this even while he was asleep.

Is this how he felt when he did this to you?

You blew him, pausing when he would move or when he would make noise. You didn’t want him to wake up yet, you wanted to savor this opportunity to do what you pleased with him. Such as when you got him flat on his back, you kneeling between his legs, your tongue tasting the salty precum at his slit, and you’d slipped a wet finger down to just glide over his asshole.

Haechan had moaned, loud enough that you thought he’d woken. But a moment later he’d settled again, and once you were satisfied with how hard he was, you dug a condom out from beneath your bed, and you climbed up to straddle his cock. You put the condom on him before you sunk down on Haechan’s cock, and you were glad you’d thought of the condom.

The moment that Haechan registered the weight and warmth and tightness of your pussy swallowing his cock, he woke up. His hands grasped at your hips, he thrust up into you, impaling you on his cock. He made it clear that your moment of being in charge had passed.

Quite literally, Haechan flipped things around.

Your shoulders hit the mattress, and he fucked you as if he hadn’t been asleep just moments before. Haechan fucked you while he scolded you for being a slut, for having fun with him while he slept, degrading you which only excited you more.

In the end, it turns out that you both kinda like that sort of sleepy sex.

You explore angry, hateful sex, too.

Your first big argument comes in late April at Jeno’s birthday party. You and Haechan turn heads with the ferocity of your argument, but fifteen minutes later, you’re fucking Haechan in the bathroom, riding him on the toilet until he picks you up, spins you around, and fucks you against the bathroom wall. He’s rough in exactly the way you wanted him to be when you angrily dragged him in here, when you attacked him with biting kisses.

He leaves bruises at your hips, yanking at your hair, he even closes a hand around your throat, applying pressure just perfectly to make your body thrill with excitement, your orgasm overtaking you. You like it a little rough and angry, the way that he bites and pulls and grabs in the moment, followed by tender kisses and apologies, a warm embrace and a conversation about how to resolve whatever your argument has been about.

You explore the properly dirty type of sex, too.

On the most brutal day of your period, you’re absolutely miserable. Cramps and a headache, emotional and horny and hungry. All the worst of your symptoms it seems are rolled into this one day.

But Haechan is the best.

When you’re laid up at his apartment in his bed, he gets up to grab snacks to satisfy your hunger. He gets a heating pad to help your cramps, a cold compress for your headache. There’s not much he can do to help ease the annoying mood swings you’re dealing with, but the horniness….

“I don’t mind,” Haechan tells you when you whine about how what you’re craving isn’t the snack he just brought you but rather an orgasm. “I can help you with that, babe.”

You move the cold compress away from where you had it covering your eyes. “Don’t be gross, Donghyuck.”

He makes a face at the sound of his full name. “It’s not gross,” he argues. “I’m not gonna eat you out, but I don’t see why I can’t help you cum if you think it’ll make you feel better. We have a variety of options.” He holds up his hand, ticking the options off as he lists them. “You can just dry hump me, ride my thigh. I could just use my fingers. I could get one of your toys. I could just fuck you; I don’t mind getting a little messy.”

You just stare at him for a moment, dealing with an internal conflict of giving in to your base desires and letting Haechan get you off, or you could save yourself the embarrassment of Haechan getting disgusted the moment that your pants are off.

“Please?” Haechan asks, “You know I love you. I just want to make you feel good.”

“And this has absolutely nothing to do with how horny you were complaining you were yesterday before I told you I’d started my period?”

Haechan’s grin grows. “I didn’t say I was offering for only your benefit, angel.”

“Go grab a towel at least.” You roll your eyes a little, but inside your heart is racing with excitement. In the past, the guys you’ve been with have all been utterly disgusted by your period, bummed out that they wouldn’t be having sex with you for a week because period sex would be too gross. You’ve never had a guy be as attentive to you during your period as Haechan has been over these months you’ve been together, and certainly none of them have ever been as interested in having period sex as he is. But you shouldn’t be too surprised. He’s a pervert, enjoying these things others often find off-putting.

When Haechan returns with a towel, you rearrange so you’re lying on top of the towel.

“What would you like?” Haechan asks, kneeling there patiently. “Which of the options?”

You roll your eyes at him again. “Just come kiss me, then I’ll decide.”

Haechan lets you take control. He sinks in against your side as you curl an arm behind his head, drawing him in deeper for your kiss. He drapes an arm over your belly while you lift a leg to curl it over his hip. The two of you tangle yourselves together, sinking into the kiss and into each others’ bodies. You play with Haechan’s hair as you kiss him, languid kisses tasting sweet and syrupy, building the heat between you. You can feel him growing hard against you, you can feel your heartbeat throbbing between your legs as your arousal grows. And when you’ve finally reached the point where you can’t just lie still anymore, you start rocking your hips.

With your leg slung over Haechan’s side, his thigh is bent forward between your legs, and when you rock your hips, you’re rocking right against his strong thigh.

You sigh into the kiss, and Haechan smiles.

“Does it feel good?” He kisses the corner of your mouth, and when you nod, he says, “Keep going.”

And you do. Your body moves on autopilot, like you’re starved and insatiable, just taking what you need, what your body desperately craves. You hump Haechan’s thigh as he sponges kisses along your jaw, as he murmurs praises and encouragements. “That’s a good girl,” he breathes against your ear, and, “Just like that, angel.”

Haechan lets you take what you need, and when the sweet friction from humping his thigh carries you over the edge with a cry, he drops his hands to your hip and keeps you moving until you’re whining from sensitivity, but you’re still not finished.

“More,” you beg, twisting your fingers in the front of his shirt. There are tears burning from the corners of your eyes as you keep grinding against Haechan’s thigh, but it’s not enough. You still need more.

“I can give you more.” Haechan rolls you over flat onto your back, and he pulls away from you which is the exact opposite of what you were asking for. He reaches down and pulls his shirt over his head, and then he reaches for the waistband of the sweatpants you’re wearing, and when you lift your hips, he drags them down your legs. The tank top you’re wearing is next; Haechan draws it over your head, tossing it aside in the same moment that he kisses you again. His hands rise to your bare tits, drawing a new whine of sensitivity from you.

“Careful,” you moan. “They’re sore.”

“Sorry, baby,” Haechan apologizes, lowering his head to place a kiss over each nipple. And then a little kitten-lick to one, his lips and tongue warm and soft against your sensitive nipples, his hand gentle and warm on the other breast.

Your tits are so sensitive it doesn’t take long for your heart to be thundering, your body pulsing with hot need, your chest arching against Haechan’s lips.

All it takes is a desperate whine and your hand lightly pressing against the top of his head for Haechan to leave your tits and start mouthing his way down over your ribs and your belly. And then he reaches for your panties to remove them.

“Wait,” you exhale, grappling for his wrist.

Haechan freezes, face hovering above your belly, his fingers tucked into the elastic of your panties ready to pull them down. He looks up at you.

“You don’t have to do this,” you reassure him. You don’t want him to feel like he has to have sex with you just because you’re horny right now. You’re gonna be a mess down there.

Haechan just smiles. “You’re not making me do anything I don’t want to do. This isn’t gross, which I know you’re worried about. It’s hot. I promise.”

You let your fingers go loose around his wrist, but Haechan waits until you nod, until you murmur, “Keep going,” for him to move again. He pulls your panties down, and you wish you could say that it was super weird and uncomfortable to have your boyfriend’s hand between your thighs removing your hygiene product. It should feel awkward as Haechan does that, but looking down at his face as he looks up at you while smoothly doing just that, you’re just lost in the moment.

Haechan climbs off the bed for a moment, walking over to the en-suite bathroom. You don’t even want to think about the fact that he’s going in there to dispose of your used sanitary product, because if you think about that for even a second you’ll be too embarrassed. So you think about the sound of Haechan rummaging around in the bathroom for a moment, and when he comes back, he’s brought a condom with him.

“For a little more ease of cleanup,” he explains. “I don’t want to have to clean period blood off my dick. No offense.” He’s teasing, but you groan and cover your face with your hands. Haechan laughs, reaching for your wrists to pry your hands away. “I’m only joking, babe. Do you still want to keep going?”

Of course you do. You’re a bit embarrassed, but more than that, you’re still incredibly horny.

“Yes, I want to keep going.”

You eagerly pull Haechan back between your legs, barely waiting for him to stop and roll the condom down his length. But then he’s there, and he’s sinking into you, and you forget everything else. You forget your headache, your cramps, your hunger. You forget every mood other than just this — the arousal, the love, the endless need to just have Haechan.

You can’t even say that it’s weird or all that different to be having sex while on your period. Haechan doesn’t make it weird, so it’s not weird. And even if there is some slight discomfort for a moment, it goes away, quickly overcome because of Haechan’s hard-earned knowledge of what you like. Sure, it’s a little messy, and you’re glad you put the towel down, but it’s not the massacre you’d been imagining. It’s as wonderful as you could’ve hoped for.

“See, no problem,” Haechan had told you afterward.

You continue exploring kinks and fetishes, trying things out, falling deeper in love with Haechan, in awe of this pervert who loves you and you love in return.

You never have to question if you love him. It’s just something innate, something you know as well as if it were just always a part of you, just built into your DNA. And you know he loves you too. Haechan doesn’t miss any opportunity to tell you so, not since the first time you said it to each other. You don’t question it.

As spring begins to bridge into summer in May, there are questions.

Your lease on your apartment is about up. Haechan’s is up at the end of June. So the question of moving in together properly comes up. And with that comes more talking, discussing, theorizing and dreaming and just lots and lots of future-talk. Talks about wants and desires.

One day during May, you’re shopping together, looking for new clothes to wear on the trip you’ve planned to take with your friends in July. The shopping center you’re in is busy, full of other couples, of young families. The shops all have vibrant, summery displays and bold signage announcing sales.

You pass by a nice menswear shop, their window display showcasing a stunning tuxedo and a row of groomsmen in dapper suits.

“I want to get married,” Haechan says casually as you pass the shop together. “I’ve always thought that I can’t wait to be a husband and a father someday. I’ve never given too much thought to the actual details, honestly, like the wedding or any of that. But being a husband, having a family, being a dad…” He smiles brightly, then says, “I want to raise a kid who knows that I’ll always be there for them, love and support them unconditionally. What about you?”

You’ve talked about kids with Haechan before. In vague terms. Like when you would be out together and see a baby or little kid, commenting on the kid being adorable, laughing at their behavior. When a coworker had a baby and she brought it into the office to visit, you’d both taken turns holding the baby and talked about it later.

But you’ve never really talked about wanting kids. More specifically, you’ve never really talked about wanting to have kids together.

You certainly never told him about your mom’s comment from just after they first met him, the comment about wanting cute grandbabies from you and him. It’s a comment she’s reiterated a few more times to you since then.

Haechan is looking at you, waiting for you to say something.

“I think most girls dream of their wedding, a spouse, a family. I used to look up wedding dresses online when I was still far too small to even know what kind of dress I could fit into someday. I would picture my celebrity crushes waiting for me at the end of the aisle, flower petals cascading from the sky.” You laugh, and Haechan smiles right along with you. “I used to think up lists of baby names and imagine what it would be like to hold a little life in my arms that I’d created.”

You wonder if Haechan notices all the past tense in the way you’re speaking. The hesitance when you speak of children.

Babies used to be something you were once so certain of. When you were young, before your eyes had been entirely opened to the world, it wasn’t something you ever thought twice about. Of course you would someday have babies. Why wouldn’t you?

But growing up meant seeing things from different perspectives, having realities laid out before you. Some people couldn’t have babies, some people chose not to have them. Sometimes terrible things happen. Sometimes pregnancy can feel alienating. You’d heard of childbirth as a blessing and a curse from friends, coworkers, acquaintances over the years, and as time passed, as you moved through your life and reached the point in time in which having a child would be appropriate, you still weren’t sure what you wanted.

Did you hope to become a mom? Did you want to carry a child if you could? Having a child in your life, especially with the right person beside you was an obvious yes, but sometimes you weren’t entirely sure if carrying a child was the right option for you; maybe you would give birth someday, maybe you would adopt, or maybe it just wasn’t in the cards for you.

Right then, with Haechan still looking at you, you only know that you want him.

Always.

Everything else can wait.

“I don’t mean any of this right now, by the way,” Haechan clarifies a few moments later. “Just… putting it out there.”

And you felt the usual sunshine-warm glow in your chest, thinking that this conversation was a good sign. These future talks you’d been having were a good sign.

The thought of getting married to Haechan makes you giddy. Is he thinking of marrying you too? Is he making plans, and that’s why he’d mentioned it?

You wrap yourself in that warm feeling and let it carry you through the next few days.

Work is busy throughout the month of May. So busy that you don’t get to see much of Haechan inside or outside of work. You have to travel abroad for research purposes, and the distance makes your heart ache. You hate being apart from Haechan, hate that you’re stuck in another country with only Johnny as a companion for two weeks in the middle of the month.

Long distance isn’t really anything you’ve had to try before, but you try to make it work. You call Haechan, he calls you; you exchange messages as often as you can. But there’s a time difference, which means that he’s often asleep while you’re awake, or you’re bogged down with work when he’s free.

“I miss you,” you sigh over the phone late one night once you’re tucked back in your hotel room for the night.

It’s eleven o’clock at night in London where you are, but it’s early back in Seoul, and you know your call probably woke Haechan up. He just mumbles something sleepily into the phone.

“I’m back at the end of the week.” You fight back a yawn. “I’m thinking of taking the week of your birthday off, honestly, because I’m sick of seeing Johnny’s face.”

That at least draws a little laugh from Haechan. “I’m already taking that week off,” he murmurs, “Take it off with me.”

“Should I?”

Haechan hums a small sound of agreement.

“If I do take it off, what should we do? Should we take a trip together? Get out of the city for the week?” You cradle the phone against your cheek, trying your best to not look at the time displayed on the clock sitting on the bedside table. You have to be awake in a few hours for a breakfast business meeting, but you want to have a moment with Haechan.

Haechan is quiet for a few seconds too long, and you wonder if he’s fallen back asleep.

“Hyuck?” You keep your voice soft, just in case.

“Uh, I’m not sure about any plans yet.” He clears his throat. “I don’t…. I don’t know. Listen, I’ve gotta go. I just realized the time and remembered that I’m supposed to head into the office early today.”

Abruptly, he ends the call.

Weird.

You try not to dwell on it too much as you settle in to sleep. You try not to let the memory of it bother you in the morning, or throughout the rest of the day. But it’s difficult to brush off the weirdness of Haechan’s behavior ending that phone call when his behavior over the last few days of your business trip is weird too. Long gaps between responses to your messages, excuses to not answer your phone calls.

And finally, at the end of the week, you and Johnny fly back to Seoul.

Haechan picks you up from the airport, sitting there waiting in a pick-up zone. He waves at Johnny cheerily enough as your coworker heads off for his own pick-up. He kisses you like he’s never missed anyone more, and he holds your hand the entire drive back to your apartment, listening to you chatter about the two weeks you were gone in Dubai.

“Oh, and Taeil approved my days off!” As he pulls in to park, the words fall out of you excitedly, and you squeeze his hand. “So whatever you want to do for your birthday, babe, let’s do it!”

Haechan’s fingers wiggle against yours. He looks around, checking his mirrors as if to make sure that he’s within the lines. “That’s good, baby,” is all he says. His eyes dart towards yours and then away again, and he withdraws his hand from yours to turn the car off.

Odd.

You continue to try not to let it bother you.

You try to ignore it, to just pretend like Haechan isn’t acting distant over the next few days. You tell yourself that it’s just the stress of work because in this interim week between your trip and his birthday week, Haechan has several important meetings and three separate project deadlines. Obviously, that is where the majority of his focus is all week, and that’s why when you ask him to come look at a new apartment availability with you, he tells you that he can’t.

You look forward to Thursday. His heavy workload — the last big meeting and project presentation of his falls on Thursday, so he should feel that relief and hopefully get over this strange distance that has grown between you this week.

After Thursday, it’s just Friday, which should be smooth sailing right into the weekend, and then, luckily, it will be Haechan’s birthday week, the exact day landing on Tuesday. You’re ready to spend the week with him, to give him a birthday to remember.

Thursday evening as you finish up in the office, you make up your mind to go over to Haechan’s tonight.

You’re going to pick up some food on your way. You’re going to shower and steal some of his comfiest clothes (although you do have a decent amount of your own clothes stored at his apartment) and eat together while you watch a drama. You’re going to start this weekend a little early with relaxation tonight, and you’ll take it easy tomorrow.

He’s already home by the time you’re leaving the office (a call with the team in Dubai meant hanging around the office a little bit later than you’d have really liked), and when you arrive at Haechan and YangYang’s apartment, he’s in his bedroom, playing games online.

Haechan offers up his cheek for you to kiss, hums an acknowledgement when you mention that you brought dinner but you want to shower first, and then you notice the way his eyes keep darting away from the game he’s playing to follow you around his bedroom as you strip on your way to the bathroom that’s not even connected to his bedroom.

And several minutes later when you return, he’s done playing the game, but he’s still sitting in the desk chair, on his phone.

Again, you notice his eyes following you as you move around. You notice the way his lips part when you drop the towel you’d had wrapped around you, the way he can’t look away as you stride around fully naked towards his closet. He watches you sort through his T-shirts and find one you like. Haechan makes a small throat-clearing noise when you bury your nose in the fabric, breathing in the smell of him before you pull the shirt on over your head.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you bend over, flashing him your ass beneath the shirt. You’re maybe doing this bit on purpose, stepping slowly into your panties, sliding them up your legs, all while bent over and showing off your ass and pussy to him.

But when you straighten up and look back at him, Haechan looks away, back down to his phone.

His phone seems to hold a lot of his attention, you notice as the night continues.

You sit out in the living room together on the sofa, eating the food you’d brought, watching a drama together. Or rather, you’re watching the drama while Haechan looks at his phone with an empty sofa cushion between you.

It feels like miles of blank space.

And you can’t pretend anymore that you’re not bothered.

Usually Haechan would be the first one to close that gap, unable to resist touching you. He would usually have to have a hand on your bare thigh or his arm around your shoulders to brush his fingers up and down your upper arm. He would have to pull you into his side or against his chest or drag you down so you’re both lying down with him spooning you from behind.

But tonight.

It’s you, him, and his phone.

You sigh loud enough it should’ve caught his attention.

He taps his fingers against the back of his phone, glances up at the drama playing, and then looks right back to his phone.

The longer this goes on, the more you feel like he’s just avoiding you. The more you begin to think that maybe the distance between you this last week and a half hasn’t solely been because of work. But what is it? Is there something on his mind that he just isn’t telling you? His silent distance, specifically his distraction with his phone, bothers you more and more the longer it goes on. One episode ends and a new one begins, and Haechan is still looking at his phone, still ignoring the heavy way you sigh in a subtle grab for his attention.

You begin reading into the silence, seeking answers, seeking attention.

So you do the one thing you know will grab Haechan’s attention and hold it.

Sex.

Haechan is slouched down on the opposite end of the sofa from you, his head propped up on a throw pillow against the arm of the sofa. His phone still holds his attention, but as you climb forward, climbing up the length of his legs, Haechan looks up at you.

At last.

“What’re you doing?” His smile grows slowly.

“I think it’s pretty clear,” you tell him, coming up to straddle his hips, sitting down right in his lap. You slide your hands up his chest. “I had my dinner, now I want dessert. I want you, Haechan.”

Haechan tsks at you. His phone calls to the side, forgotten on the cushion at his shoulder.

“Always horny, aren’t you, my love? What am I to do with you? Just give you what you want?” As he says it, Haechan reaches for your thighs, smoothly dragging you from your spot in his lap now up his chest while he slides even lower to be lying flat on his back. “Baby, maybe I want a taste of my dessert,” he croons, his hands making quick work of pushing up the oversized shirt of his that you’re wearing.

His hands are on your chest before you can get a word out. His fingers tease your nipples, palms warm against the softness of your breasts.

His phone vibrates at your knee. Once, twice, a third time.

Haechan is finally distracted by you and doesn’t seem to notice the notifications lighting up his phone screen. But you do. Who is texting him?

You risk a glance towards the illuminated screen, and see a cluster of message notifications. For a split second, your heart does a weird flippy floppy act, and then you read the name at the top of the notifications: Eomma-ya.

His mom.

Another one comes in, but you can’t read the messages themselves, and at this point you don’t need to. It’s not any of your business, and you relax, letting some of the tension ease out of you, your body reacting eagerly to Haechan’s touches now that your worries have been somewhat assuaged in knowing that it’s just his mom that he’s been messaging.

Haechan, all of his focus on you now, pinches one of your nipples in a way that sends a jolt of lusty heat right down to your core.

You whimper quietly, just “Haechan” before all words melt on your tongue when Haechan drags your panties to the side and starts touching you. His fingers tease along your slit, never giving you quite what you want. He keeps it going until you’re dripping, arousal clinging to his fingers, a few drops leaking down to dampen the front of his shirt. And all the while he’s doing this, Haechan watches you with this amused, almost predatory look.

He watches and waits until he can see that you’re right there on the edge of cumming, and he withdraws his hand. He waits a few moments while you whine and squirm on top of him, and then his fingers are back, drawing intense circles on your clit, edging you right back to where you were before but then he backs off again. Several times he does this until you’re actually starting to get pissed off, but then instead of pulling his hands away from you, he slides down fully onto his back on the sofa, and Haechan drags you up until you’re straddling his face.

“Go on, baby. Take what you want.” Haechan licks his lips as he says it, and then he leaves his mouth parted, pink tongue laying against his plush lips.

There’s only one thing you want in that moment and it’s to sit on his face and ride his tongue until your body goes numb from the overstimulation of orgasming. You want to cry his name, to squirt on his tongue, to leave your taste in his mouth for days.

Haechan moans when you sit on him, his arms wrap around you, holding you against his mouth as he eats you out, as you ride his tongue.

You alternate between tugging at Haechan’s hair (which only makes him moan exaggeratedly against your pussy) or clenching your hands in the shirt you’re wearing. Occasionally, you’ll look down and find Haechan already watching you, his dark eyes drinking in the awed look of pleasure on your face, or staring at your tits if you’ve got your shirt lifted that high. All you know is you feel high, electric, like your body and the entire world are just static, and each stroke of Haechan’s tongue is a shock to your system in the best way.

Your first orgasm feels weak, just a pulse of sweetness, barely enough for you to really feel before Haechan is doubling down, hands gripping your thighs to pull you down more heavily onto his face. Like he wants you to just suffocate him like this.

He doesn’t slow down at all, moaning against you as the taste of you continues to leak across his tongue, and you can’t help yourself as you essentially fuck his face, rocking your hips to feel his nose against your clit and his tongue buried deep inside you.

He’s moaning and you’re moaning, and it’s no wonder that neither of you hear the door to his apartment open until it’s too late, until YangYang is standing there in the door just staring at you losing control of yourself as another orgasm — this one so much more intense and fantastic — crashes through you.

He watches, and you notice him, but you decide not to pay him any attention. He can stay or he can leave, it really doesn’t bother you either way.

Haechan’s fingers only slightly loosen the tight hold on your thighs as he licks you through your orgasm. His cheeks are sticky against your thighs, lips sliding against your labia from where you’d squirted. You easily slide backwards, collapsing to sit on his belly. You let your shirt fall down to cover your panties again, and you push your fingers into Haechan’s hair, lower your head to his, and you kiss him, not caring about the mess you’d made on his face. You can taste yourself, but you don’t care, and besides, it seems like Haechan likes that.

Somewhere, YangYang clears his throat.

“Stay or leave, dude,” Haechan mumbles against your lips, the words just loud enough for YangYang to hear. “We’re not stopping.”

You don’t know what decision YangYang makes. You don’t hear anything to indicate one choice or the other, and you don’t look around the room either. You just sink against Haechan, sucking on his tongue, at his bottom lip, using your tongue to clean the taste of yourself from his chin.

Haechan twists you beneath him so he’s on top, pressing you into the sofa, and he peels your shirt off, tossing it over the back of the sofa, and then he has unrestricted access to your chest. Haechan attacks your tits with lips and teeth, his hands giving attention where his mouth doesn’t.

It’s all a hot blur of lips and skin and teeth and high heat when Haechan’s pants disappear between one breath and the next, your bodies colliding, and his cock filling you smoothly and perfectly. You clutch at his shoulders and bite at his neck while he fits into you, and you arch against him, trying to pull him closer, wanting him to smother you now between the somewhat rough material of the sofa and the smooth press of his skin.

At one point, he pulls away from you, and you sit up to follow, letting him manhandle you around onto your knees, facing the arm of the sofa as he fits himself against you from behind. He grips your arms up by your shoulders, and the way Haechan thrusts into you is so deep and rough that your teeth clack together and tears burn in your eyes, but you love it. You love the raw passion as he fucks you, and the way that he soon wraps his arms around you, drawing your back to his chest as he rolls his hips forward, dragging his cock in this gliding motion inside you, a slow, smooth pull in your belly that has you cumming again.

Haechan mouths at your throat while your walls pulse around his cock. You can feel sweat clinging to your skin, both from yourself and from him. His tongue drags up the line of your throat, from the base all the way up to just beneath your ear.

When Haechan takes your earlobe between his teeth, a pathetic sound spills out of you, one that you’re not even sure where it came from because you’ve never heard that sound before.

“He’s still watching,” Haechan whispers, his words right against your ear. “YangYang pretended like he just went to his room, but the door is still cracked open, and he probably doesn’t know that I can see his shadow pressed up against the door, watching.”

Your eyes flash open, shooting a look right towards YangYang’s door. It does stand partially ajar, but you couldn’t say if YangYang is standing there or not. He could just be making it up for your benefit, knowing how much you love the idea of being watched, how long it’s been since the two of you did something even slightly exhibitionist.

One of Haechan’s hands slides up to your throat, his skin burning against yours as he applies the perfect amount of pressure. “I don’t care if he watches,” Haechan growls, “Just so long as he knows who you belong to. Just as long as he knows this is just a pretty show, a one time ticket to view. Because whose are you, angel?”

His hand releases a little, and you breathe in deeply, more than happy to profess, “I’m yours,” with a sigh.

“Good girl.” Haechan brushes a kiss to your cheek. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours, Haechan.”

He lets you fall forward. Your ass is still lifted, but your cheek rests against the arm of the sofa as Haechan keeps thrusting forward, and you can feel yet another orgasm building inside you, the heat swelling in your belly as a tingling sensation spreads.

“That’s right, baby. We were made for each other. You’re mine.” He rolls his hips forward, grinding his cock in deep, a hand flat on your tailbone. “Fuck, say it for me?”

“I’m yours,” you whimper, already feeling the druglike pull of your orgasm as your vision whites out.

Haechan keeps moving, his movements speeding up as he races to follow you to his orgasm, and as soon as you realize that, a bolt of panic passes through you.

You lift onto your elbows. “Pull out! Pull out,” you moan, pulling yourself forward off his cock even as Haechan jerks backwards.

Your pussy clenches uselessly around nothing as Haechan’s cock leaves you, but a second later you feel the warm streaks of his cum paint your lower back, his moans accompanying the sensation.

Haechan falls over you, his weight only there for a moment before he’s shifting onto his side, his arms wrapped around you to pull you back against him. From this position, you have a clear look at YangYang’s door again. Now, it’s clearly shut.

“God, I’m glad we did that,” you sigh, “I was tired of you ignoring me for your phone. What was so interesting anyway?” You ask with a laugh, trying to keep it sounding lighthearted as you reach up to push your fingers into Haechan’s hair.

He tucks his face between your neck and your shoulder, humming a noncommittal sound. He just holds you like that for a little while until you swear it feels like your heartbeats and your breathing have synced with each other. It’s only after several minutes that he lifts his face from your neck.

“I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to be angry,” he says.

Already, not off to a great start.

You tense up, holding your breath. A feeling like an ice cold rod sets itself rigid down your spine. Why does he sound so serious? He was just texting his mom; you saw the new messages coming in from her, so what about that could make you angry? What is he going to say?

Haechan sighs, lowering his chin to rest on the curve of your shoulder. “I’m going home for a bit, a few days,” Haechan tells you, “To Jeju. My mom still lives there, and she wants me to come visit for my birthday this weekend.”

You almost let out a sigh of relief. You know that he can probably see the way that you actually relax, shoulders sinking down now with ease into the cushions. He’s just going to go visit his family for his birthday, and it’s probably about time. He’s told you about them, and you know he hadn’t seen them in a while.

It’s a good thing.

“Why would I be angry about that?” You lift a hand up to touch his hair as he lowers his mouth against your shoulder.

Of course, you wanted to spend his birthday with him. His first birthday while you’ve been together like this, but if he was going out of town and just wanted to spend time with his family, you understand.

“You took the week off,” Haechan says slowly. “You took it off at least in part because it’s my birthday. You wanted to make plans, but now my mom wants to decide on some different plans.”

You nod, wondering if that was all he had to say. That’s nothing big. Is this why he’s been distant since last week when you mentioned making plans for his birthday week? Had he already known that his mom wanted him to visit? Was he worried you were going to be upset that he’s going to Jeju? Or maybe he’s wanting to ask you to come along, to finally meet his family? The fact that he’s not saying anything, although you can almost hear his mind silently buzzing with unspoken words, reinforces your theory a bit.

But if he’s not going to ask then you will.

“When do I finally get to meet your family anyway?” You twist around to face him, trailing your fingers up his chest.

Haechan grabs your hand, pulling it away from where you reached his face. He clears his throat and looks over your shoulder into the middle-distance.

“What?” You laugh, twirling your fingers with his.

Haechan clears his throat again. Opens his mouth. Closes it. He mumbles, “I’m going to tell you something else. Please don’t be angry.”

The fact that he’s repeating that plea doesn’t bode well at all.

“Donghyuck?” An uncomfortable weight begins to settle through your belly. What’s his deal right now?

Silence for a beat.

He swallows hard.

“I haven’t told my family about you. That we’re… together. They don’t know I’m seeing anyone at all,” he blurts. And then as an afterthought, he tacks on, “Like I said, please don’t be angry.”

Don’t be angry.

Are you angry?

The feelings flooding through you don’t quite feel like anger — not that bright, burning bite of emotion — but something heavier and deeper, something that slides through your veins like an oil slick.

What does he mean he hasn’t told them about you? That they don’t know that you’re…. Together. And the way he’d hesitated when he said that?! What does that mean?

He’s your boyfriend! So what was with the hesitation?

You’re almost living together. Spending pretty much every single night together at one apartment or the other, with plans to find an apartment — and now you remember him backing out of the apartment viewing you’d found the other day — and move in together. He’s met your family, who adore him. You’ve talked about the future: marriage, family, kids, and dreams.

You’re in love with him and he often tells you he loves you, too.

But Haechan hasn’t even mentioned your relationship to his family.

You can’t believe it.

You draw yourself away from him, lifting yourself off the sofa.

“Are you mad?” Haechan asks again. You feel his fingertips brush against your tailbone.

“Am I mad? Are you fucking kidding, Haechan?” Ah, there you can feel a bit of anger flickering to life in your sternum, catching at the tail ends of your words.

Haechan can’t even look you in the eye as you stand above him.

“You haven’t told them about me? Can I ask why?” You’re trying to tame the anger in your voice, to keep that fiery heat from swelling inside you to an inferno, but it’s not working. “Is it because of me? You don’t actually want to be with me?”

“That’s stupid, of course that’s not it!” Haechan stares up at you, shock in his eyes before he looks away again, down at his hands. “I haven’t told them about you, about us, because I don’t want them to judge.”

And that only incenses you further.

The sound that leaves you is anger, frustration, and hurt all blended into one. A scream and a shout, a cry as you search the floor for the shirt of his you’d borrowed earlier.

You find it halfway tucked beneath the end of the sofa, and you snatch it up, drag it on.

“You don’t want your family to judge me? Fine. I guess it seems that you’ve already decided that they’ll find me lacking.” You know you’re shouting, but you can’t help it. Tears sting at your eyes, burning as the words fly from your mouth. “Fuck you, Lee Donghyuck.”

Behind you, there’s the sound of a door opening, and then YangYang’s voice asking, “What’s going on?”

You snort, spinning around to head for Haechan’s room, leaving him and YangYang behind in the living room. You can hear them speaking as you dig around in Haechan’s room for a clean pair of pants for you to wear.

When you walk back out a moment later, your bag on your shoulder, both of the men turn to look at you.

“Where are you going?” Haechan asks.

“I’m fucking leaving.” You stride past him.

“Fuck, Haechan,” YangYang groans. “I told you not to fuck things up with her! What the hell did you do?”

Before you reach the door, Haechan calls out your name. You pause, hand reaching for the door handle, waiting, but he doesn’t say anything else, and you don’t turn to look at him.

You wait, seconds tuck by, and still he remains silent behind you.

He can’t even ask you to stay? Not even that?

You open the door, and you leave.

Haechan doesn’t follow.

Friday morning, you call in sick to work.

In a way, you are sick.

You don’t want to see Haechan today, but at the same time you don’t not want to see him either. The two conflicting desires leave your stomach in knots.

He’s going to leave for Jeju today, spend the whole weekend and his birthday there with his family and not thinking about you. And you already know you’re going to spend the whole week only thinking of him. Maybe you’ll get drunk tonight and tomorrow and Sunday too. Or maybe every day of the week, since you’ve got the whole thing. Maybe you’ll drink until you can forget that Haechan doesn’t love you as much as you thought he did, that he must not actually dream of a future with you even though you’ve both talked about it.

You spent the whole night crying and choking down a quart of ice cream with your roommate and her partner comforting you.

You miss Haechan.

It’s been twelve hours and you miss him because you never argue with him and then don’t immediately make up. You’ve had big fights, but up until last night you’ve always made up shortly after. You’ve lived by the rule of never going to bed angry.

But last night you were angry and upset when you finally fell asleep, clutching your phone and wondering why he hasn’t called or texted.

Friday morning ticks by and you mope in bed, glancing at the clock, knowing you should get up, that you should shower and eat. But you can’t.

You ignore a call from Yuta at work, ignore a couple texts from YangYang. You consider letting your phone just die or putting it on do not disturb, but you can’t deny that you’re really hoping that one time when the phone rings or buzzes with a message notification that it’ll be Haechan.

He really just let you walk out of there last night.

He really hasn't told his family about you.

You roll over and hide your face in your pillow.

Some time later, a series of buzzes from your phone draws you out of the light doze you sank into. Your heart lifts, and when you check the screen you see….

YangYang.

What does he want? Why is he calling?

“Mm?” Is all the sound you can muster when you deign to answer the call.

“Hello?” YangYang says. “Are you there?”

“What, YangYang?” You hate the way your voice sounds right then. Like it’s clear that you’ve been crying all night and periodically over the past few hours.

You can hear YangYang walking around, trying not to make noise. And then he whispers, “I think you should come over here. He’s about to leave for the weekend.”

“Excuse me?” What exactly is YangYang asking you? Does he think that because he watched the two of you last night, because you let him watch last night, because you and Haechan had a big fight last night that you’ll just sneak over there to hook up with him as soon as Haechan leaves for a few days?

“What?” YangYang asks, and then a brief pause before he exclaims, “Oh! No, like…. I don’t mean….” He sighs, then clarifies, “I really think you should come over here, and Haechan is about to leave for Jeju, and I think you should go with him. He told me last night after you left what the real problem was. I thought you’d just finally found out what a freak he is, but he assured me that you know and you don’t care. That he’s just a fucking idiot who hasn’t told his mom that you’re his girlfriend. There's an obvious solution here.”

You grunt in acknowledgement. “But you’re the one asking me, not him.”

“Just come over.” YangYang’s tone doesn’t leave much room for arguing. “He’s an idiot, but surely you knew that before you started dating him. Come over, talk to him, and go with him.”

“I’m hanging up,” you force the words out just a split second before you end the call on YangYang.

You lie there for a few minutes, holding your phone, staring up at the ceiling. Thinking.

Is Haechan, like, fucking embarrassed to be with you? Is that why he hasn’t told his family about you? Why would you want to show up right before he leaves on that trip, to argue with him some more about it? You don’t want to ruin his trip, even if you are upset with him right now.

And why should you go without him making any sign of apology first? It’s YangYang reaching out to you, not Haechan, and that doesn’t feel right either. If Haechan isn’t going to make the effort to say that he’s sorry, that he sees the wrong he’s done in this situation, then why should you put in the effort?

You lie there for a little while longer, turning your phone over and over in your hands.

Your phone buzzes with a message, and you turn it over quickly just to see that it’s a message from YangYang.

“Don’t know if you’re on your way over, but he just left.”

Your heart does a strange tumble in your chest.

Not that you were really thinking about going over there, but it gives you a strange feeling to know that it’s not an option anymore. Haechan is gone, on his way to Jeju island.

But something about that is the impetus you needed, and you finally lug yourself out of bed and into the shower.

Maybe you should just text Haechan, you think as you massage your shampoo through your hair. Just open up that pathway with him so he knows you’re not totally pissed off to the point that you want to break up. Because you definitely don’t want to break up with him. He’s Haechan, the love of your life.

You spend the rest of your shower drafting up different versions of the message you want to send him, so as soon as you step out of the shower, you reach for your phone, ready to send the message.

But then you see you have several notifications. A couple texts. Three missed calls.

All from Haechan.

Then, somewhat muffled by distance, you hear a thud and your phone rings again. Haechan.

And the thudding noise again, but you now recognize it as knocking on your apartment door.

You don’t even bother to dry off. Instead, you just wrap the towel around you and beeline straight for the front door. The knocking continues as you approach.

Through the peephole you can see Haechan standing there, his phone pressed to his ear while he knocks with the other hand. You can see his lips moving, and through the door you hear his muffled voice saying, “Come on, please. Please don’t just ignore me, baby.”

Your phone rings again in your hand.

Haechan drops his head against the door.

The moment you touch the deadbolt, Haechan straightens up, and when you pull the door open a few inches, you can see him standing there and looking at you with heavy emotions weighing down the corners of his mouth.

“What, Donghyuck?”

His lips, which had begun to lift into a smile, sink once more. You know he doesn’t like when you use his real name, especially not when the tone you say it in is sharp and hard, not at all softened by a smile as it usually is with him.

His eyebrows furrow together a bit. “I’m sorry. I came here to say I’m sorry. All last night after you left, I kept thinking about you, about how I made a mistake. How I wanted to get out of bed and come over here to apologize and make things right. But I figured that you wouldn’t want to see me.”

Frankly, if he’d shown up last night, you probably wouldn’t have even granted him the courtesy of opening your door even this much. But right now you open it a few inches more, with your body barring the way.

“Do you realize how much it hurt me to hear you say that, Haechan? To realize that I love you so much, that all of our friends and my family know that we’re together, that you and I have discussed the future and have made tentative plans to move into a place together, but you haven’t even told your family that I hold even a small place in your mind? That makes me feel like shit, Haechan. How am I supposed to take anything you say seriously now? Do you mean it when you tell me you love me? Do you really want to move in together? Do you mean it when you tell me about how much you want to get married and be a dad, and if you do mean it, do you mean you want it with me?”

Silence follows your words for a moment. Haechan stands there in front of you, wringing his hands together.

“I’m an idiot,” he says finally. “I just… I know I should’ve told them about you. But there’s some things that I just want to hold close, and you’re one of them. Because I’m embarrassed. Not by you!” He quickly says, looking up at you with wide eyes. “I’ve never…. I’ve never brought anyone home before. They’ve never met anyone I’ve been in a relationship with, never seen me with anyone in a romantic way. That’s what I’m embarrassed about. They’ve never seen this side of me, this totally over-the-top in love side. Not to mention that I’m embarrassed by how for years we were just friends, but when I realized I had feelings for you, I fell so hard and fast.”

“You are an idiot,” you agree. “Do you think it wasn’t embarrassing for me? To have my family walk in on us? To have to introduce them to you minutes later? As soon as I told them your name, I could tell that they were laughing because for years, Haechan, I’d been talking about you. My mom teases me about it later that night. But never once, not for one minute, did I think it would be too embarrassing for them to know that I was dating you, that I’m in love with you.”

Haechan lowers his head.

You tighten your hold on the towel you’re clutching around yourself. “But you have to see this from my side, right? You’ve been telling me that you love me, but then you tell me that I’m a huge secret from your family, they’ve never heard about me. You have to see how I would take that, don’t you? How I would hear that and believe that I’m nothing more than a fun fuck for you, a way for you to get kinky?”

“No,” Haechan interjects. “No, you’re not that. You have to know that.”

The way he’s staring at you tears at your heart. You’ve pretty much already forgiven him. You don’t want to be mad at him, after all, and he’s made this effort to come here and apologize. But, you’d like to see him grovel a little longer.

Haechan says, “I was just embarrassed to realize I was so dumb and blind for so long, to go from telling myself that all the feelings I had for you were only friendly to suddenly being so in love with you and wanting you so much that it hurt me to watch anyone else touch you or look at you for too long. I love you, I want you. I want to live with you and be in love with you for the rest of our lives. But I need you to forgive me for being ridiculous. There’s really only one way to make things right, isn’t there?”

Haechan takes a half-step backwards.

Your heart lurches in your chest as he begins to sink down on one knee.

You open the door fully now, staring in unmitigated shock at Haechan as he lowers himself down.

“Lee Donghyuck—“ Your tone is one of warning.

He glances up at you. His lips tilt into a smirk, and he drops the other knee so that he’s just kneeling on the floor in front of your door. He folds his hands together, looks up at you with amusement lighting his eyes, hands lifted in a pleading manner as he begs, “Will you please forgive me, baby? My angel? Forgive me and come with me this weekend. Come meet my family.”

With a groan, you reach over and shove at his shoulder.

Haechan laughs, dropping down to sit on his ankles.

“You’re a dick,” you whine.

“What? Did you think I was going to ask something else?” Haechan laughs, still looking up at you.

You simply roll your eyes at him, turn around and walk away into your apartment, leaving the door open behind you.

Haechan calls out after you, “What’s your answer?”

“Just come inside!” You’re already walking into your bedroom, already reaching for a bag and some clothes. You hear the apartment door close, and then the sound of his footsteps crossing the floor. “Are you at least going to give your mom a heads up that you’re bringing someone with you?”

Haechan leans in your doorway, watching as you collect clothes and fold them nicely into your bag. He hums a little sound, “I may have called her earlier. I told her that I’ve been seeing a girl, and she asked me a thousand questions about you, and I told her that you’re coming home with me this weekend, so she’ll be able to ask you everything.”

“And what if I’d told you no? What if I really was ignoring you and just never answered?” You glance over at him, and Haechan is just watching you with this gentle smile.

“I didn’t want to even consider that possibility,” Haechan says with a shake of his head.

You walk away to your bathroom, gathering your toiletries together.

While you’re in there, Haechan says, “I love you, you know that, right? Like, I’m so in love with you, I’m sure I’m gonna catch shit about it this weekend from my mom and my siblings. They’re gonna tease the hell out of me, especially once my mom realizes who you are. Like I said yesterday, and never really got the chance to explain, I feel like there’s gonna be some judgment this weekend.”

You pop your head back out of the bathroom. Yes, that statement from him the night before had certainly triggered some of the more heated emotions that sent you walking out of his apartment. So right now, hearing it again, you can’t help asking, “And what does that mean?”

“Nothing bad.” Haechan rolls his eyes with a good-natured smile. “You’re wonderful. I don’t think they would find you lacking. If anything, they’re going to judge me against you and wonder why the hell you would put up with me.”

That’s bullshit. “As if. Haechan, you’re perfect. I’ve heard the way you talk about your mom, and I know you, so there’s no way that she doesn’t believe you’re perfect.”

Haechan snorts. “I know you think I’m perfect, angel, but not everyone feels the same. Especially not when you’re there with all of your… you-ness.”

“Meaning what exactly?” What does your you-ness mean? Is it a compliment?

Haechan stands there for a moment as you emerge from the bathroom to pack your toiletries into your bag, and you can see him mulling over the words, rolling them around in his mind and on his tongue for a moment before he finally lets them out.

“You are perfect. Like actually. I’m good at imitating perfection maybe, but you just… are.” Haechan sighs suddenly. “Everything about you just fits into this bubble of perfection in my mind. You’re an angel in my eyes, and I know you know it.”

A warm glow through your chest, melting the last bits of icy bitterness remaining from your fight yesterday.

And you dissolve just a little more when Haechan walks closer, when he clutches one of your hands, bringing it to his chest, against his heart.

He tells you, “You’re beautiful, kind, hard-working and smart. You’re one of the only women in our company, the best in your area, and you just keep excelling. When you got that promotion, oh my God. I’m so proud of you, proud to call myself your boyfriend. You’re living your dream, and I wish I could do that.”

It is your dream to be working this job, to have a successful career in this field. You know that Haechan enjoys his work in this area too, but after that night of your first date, when you’d encouraged him to sing, you’d reawakened his youthful dream of being a singer, one that he hasn’t made much progress towards achieving, though not from lack of trying.

Haechan’s heart beats steadily beneath your hand. He holds your gaze as he continues speaking from the heart.

“I couldn’t possibly find anyone in this world to love me better than you. You’re a daydream, and my favorite wet dream, to put it bluntly. So, yeah. You’re perfect, my angel, and as soon as my family realizes that you’re the one I’ve been telling them about for years now, the friend I met as a freshman, my mom is gonna call me an idiot for waiting so long to realize that I was in love with you.”

That makes you laugh, genuinely laugh from the belly.

You pull your hand away from his chest so you can instead throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him into a tight hug.

“You are an idiot for waiting years to realize that you were in love with me.” You crush yourself against him, unable to disagree with his mom’s hypothetical words. “I had a crush on you from day one, Haechan, and we were friends for so long. It’s only because of you that it took us so long.”

Haechan makes a face. “I don’t know about that.”

You scoff. “It’s true. You were so blind to me for years, and now look at you.” You pull back from the hug so you can see his face. “You’re a total sucker for me, wrapped around my finger.”

A slow-growing smile appears on Haechan’s face. “Oh? I am wrapped around your finger?”

You nod.

Haechan tsks at you. “I think you’re mistaken, angel. You’re the one wrapped around my finger, baby, and sometimes around multiple fingers.” As he says it, Haechan tightens the arm around your waist. He touches his lips to your ear. “You’re often wrapped around my tongue, like last night.” he croons.

You shiver a little, recalling the pleasure of riding his face on the sofa last night. But you don’t have time for that sort of distraction right now. If you’re going to make it to Jeju island today, you should probably be leaving soon.

“Just admit it, baby,” Haechan is still saying, “If one of us will do anything the other asks of them, it’s you.”

Again, you scoff. You push out of his hold. “Why don’t you take my bag while I get dressed.”

You’re still just wearing your towel after the shower. And you don’t think traveling to meet his family in just a towel would give them a very good first impression.

Haechan grins, pecks a kiss to your cheek, grabs your bag, and heads out your bedroom door.

a/n: Haechan in the story is a bit of a dumbass tbh, like??? Just tell your family about the woman that you're literally so in love with!!! But... anyway, you'll get a little bit of his POV in the next chapter about that! You'll also be getting more of totally, fully, completely in love Haechan waxing romantic about Y/N.

I can't believe that next chapter is gonna be the end already, I feel like I just started writing and posting this fic not too long ago!

As always, your likes, reblogs, comments, messages, stream of consciousness thoughts about YIMA are greatly appreciated! Thank you!!

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

#haechan smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct #haechan #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #yima #nct 127 #nct dream #nct 2023

436 notes · View notes

ohhmydyosfics · 1 year

Text

(Markren) The World Stopped Moving (and I kept going)

"Mark? I don't know a Mark," Chenle says.

"Neither did I until, like, two hours ago."

"Right," Chenle says, the word drawn-out, judging. "Are you sure it's him?"

Renjun thinks back to when their hands touched, compares it to the mild irritation he felt when a random student knocked into him in the corridor, and groans when he realises there is no other explanation.

"Our hands touched when I took his pencil. I felt the spark."

"The spark?"

"Yes, the spark, Chenle. You know the one," Renjun says and sits up, back against the wall, fingers clasping the golden dust again. "And I liked talking to him. He was so nice."

Chenle stares, a long, steady gaze that doesn't waver, only judges, and Renjun sinks deeper into the mattress, wishing he could slide down the tiny gap between the bed and the wall and curl up and never face the world again.

"I'm so fucked."

𓆩♡𓆪

Renjun's soulmate dust starts to glow yellow after meeting Mark. But Mark's is still grey.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40030368/chapters/100249656

1 note · View note

justalildumpling · 1 year

Text

⇢ finding cinderella

synopsis: it wasn’t often jeno showed emotions of love and affection, let alone kissing a stranger at a party that he doesn’t even remember?! determined to find his nameless cinderella, he began searching the campus far and wide but as hidden secrets started surfacing, he started to wonder whether the midnight spark was meant to be pursued after all.

pairing: jeno x fem! reader genre: social media au, college au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, crack warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, jokes about murder status: completed started: 14th February 2023 ended: 13th July 2023 update schedule: twice a week (probs mon & thurs??) taglist: closed🤍!!

note: this is the third instalment of the 'lovesick fools universe'! (tho it can be standalone) holy crap, the journey leading up to writing this fic was... chaotic💀 also imma be fr guys, this is gonna be a hell of a long rollercoaster so buckle up🥴

⎯ navi for lovesick fools universe

profiles 1/3: jay's sugar babies profiles 2/3: dream squad!! profiles 3/3: dream squad!! (pt. 2) chapter 1: the fucked up uni chapter 2: the ball and the glass slipper chapter 3: as the clock struck midnight chapter 4: after the magic wore off🍻 chapter 5: her own version of glass slippers👟 chapter 6: the prince and the stepsisters💀 chapter 7: her nike zoom pegasus chapter 8: prince jeno’s big fat L chapter 9: cinderella’s rats🤨 chapter 10: the questionable wingmen🤨 chapter 11: awkwardly dense charming chapter 12: breaking and (not) entering💀 chapter 13: bye mum im getting married💅 chapter 14: soft launch🙈 chapter 15: avengers assemble🫡 chapter 16: pussy🙄 chapter 17: nomin’s divorce era chapter 18: oh how the turn tables chapter 19: jinx😡 chapter 20: 🤡 chapter 21: loving him was red chapter 22: a twisted cinderella story chapter 23: coping mechanisms chapter 24: denial is river in egypt chapter 25: the story of us chapter 26: the untold truth chapter 27: gaslight, gatekeep, not girlbossing chapter 28: sneaky snake🐍 chapter 29: karma is her bf🤭 chapter 30: closing the cinderella story?? chapter 31: DAS MY BFF😤😤😤 chapter 32: lucifier’s new friend🫣 chapter 33: ok relationship veteran🥵 chapter 34: my soulmate frfr😔✋ chapter 35: sunwoo’s party pt.194859🫠 chapter 36: if the shoe fits chapter 37: so this is love🩵 (finale)

next lovesick fool: renjun

2K notes · View notes

hangup119 · 1 month

Text

FEELS LIKE A THRILLER! ᯓᡣ𐭩

PAIRING. college!seunghan + fem!reader

SUMMARY. pining after hong seunghan has always felt like an unachievable reality; however, just a few months into your first year of college, it seems that the gods have finally listened to your prayers when news breaks out that your long-time crush is single once again.

GENRES. social media au, college au, unrequited love, one-sided pining, mostly shits and giggles (aka crack?), acquaintances to friends to lovers

WARNINGS. profanity, mentions of homewrecking/cheating, out of pocket jokes, mentions/consumption of alcohol

STATUS. on-going

PLAYLIST. love 119 by riize; we can't be friends (i'll wait for your love) by ariana grande; but sometimes by boynextdoor; sucker’s prayer by the decemberists; YK by cean jr.; from the start by laufey

MAIN MASTERLIST here

AUTHOR'S NOTE. hey so i actually have a big fat crush on seunghan and now we're here (bae pls come back)

PROFILES

jaesan shippers

riizelers

CHAPTERS

01. s3?n6h4n$

02. question for the ladies

03. cringepilled crushmaxxing

04. gundam 😕

05. it's not her it's me headass

06. @SMUbruhmoments

07. boy best friend activities

08. emily dickinson

09. all too well (taylor's version)

10. F word

11. sigma meal, skibidi slicers

12. #NOTACANNIBAL

13. dpmo

14. #smad

15. boy’s night

. . . & more to come !

TAGLIST. @shoberi @miyawwn @starwonb1n @hwadejectedyoung @revehosh @alwayswook @rksbae @emohoon @nujeskz @ilovejungwonandhaechan @meowbini @nakam00t @siuewnb @cake1box @dearmarklee @kyusqult @snowyseungs @ffixtionista @odxrilove @hisrkive @saeist @lilysflower1 @seunghancore @eternallyhyucks @syzavxy @calumsfringe @yipyipmorals @user7520 @tojis-luver @ilymarkchan @fae-renjun @otblous @woonagi-lemon @jjk-97 @leeis

409 notes · View notes

daintyshu · 3 months

Text

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 — 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐮.

pairing. ??? x fem!reader

synopsis. in which you work at odd atelier cafe and can only make hearts in your lattes, causing a certain boy to misunderstand your intentions..... then he brings his friends and chaos ensues.

featuring. all of blackpink, renjun and haechan of nct

genre. romance, reverse harem, comedy i hope, bit of angst

warnings. language, inappropriate jokes, will update

inspo. me working at a cafe and my incompetent ass only being able to make hearts in my lattes and some guy thinking i was flirting with him 🫠

author's note. hi!!! it's my first ever smau so pls go easy 🥹 taglist are open just lmk if you wanna be added!

pls dont spam like!!! reblogs are appreciated :>

started: 11th march 2024

completed: NA

PROFILES

• oddities (the babies)

• tutor, tutees and heeseung

• oddities (the superiors)

CHAPTERS

i. pretty singer barista?

ii. donghyuck is SICK

iii. heeseung FOMO

iv. kissy on the lippy

v. all my friends are Fake

vi. big boy papers (written 0.85k)

vii. new friend (written 0.53k)

viii. riki hyung

ix. hee knows (written 0.72k)

x. heeseung's firsts (full written 1.99k)

xi. take me out ⁉️

xii. feelin like kanye fr

xiii. the fun day out (written 1.2k)

xiv. bitchless hoon (written 1.5k)

xv. calm (written 1.2k)

#enhypen texts #enhypen x reader smau #enha x reader smau #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen social media au #enhypen social au #enhypen #enhypen smau #enha smau #enha

239 notes · View notes

dojunie · 4 months

Text

MISDIAL; LJN [CH5] VOICEMAIL REDUX

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

very slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven

warnings for this chapter; kys mention in joking manner

chapter wc: ...13K

a/n: i couldn't decide between posting this monster whole or cutting it into two parts, but two parts kind of makes the pacing weird, so here she is in all her glory! been editing this so long that i've gotten sick of looking at it so im just going to release it into the world now LOL, pls pls pls give me feedback on this chapter, im not 100% satisfied w it but i cant tell if its because it sucks or i've just been rereading it too much 🥸

current tl: @hibernatinghamster / @jenoxygen / @eaglesnotravens / @donutswithjaminthemiddle / @jvjsssnaa / @huangrenhyucks / @luvenshiti / @shiningdery / @jaeminsbebu / @aliceinwhateverland / @bebsky / @gem-gem / @jkjkseo / @jenosbliss / @pewpewpwe00 / @ti–red / @philanarose / @softbbyg0rl / @aaasteroidsky / @carelessshootanonymous / @en-boyz / @jlsavyy / @roseymerrie / @bangchanisemo / @skuezk / @jaehyuns-adorable-dimples / @ourbeautifulaffair / @jeonnyread / @jvjsssnaa / @episkeyjeno / @bockhyun / @jenojammin / @zarastrawberry / @peachie-bear / @itadaramaterasu / @alymii / @cuteejeno / @episkeyjeno / @nohunlee / @ooojisoo / @luv4jeno / @jydivrs / @pinkysinnerbaby / @jenojenoyes / @maeyoung / @axmdocs / @nctzennikki09

FORGET WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT NEVER BEING ABLE TO GET MAD AT SOMI, BECAUSE THIS TIME, YOU’RE REALLY GOING TO KILL HER.

At this exact moment in time, the Aegon Showcase is set to begin in about fifteen minutes. You’ve got half of a chocolate muffin stuffed into your mouth (courtesy of Somi sneaking a few snacks from the audience lounge, since the dancers technically weren’t supposed to be eating any of the guest refreshments), and you were about halfway through swallowing this chunk of bread when Somi said something that made you nearly choke.

For context: six and a half days have passed since you’ve last spoken to Jeno.

And you haven’t been counting, either. It just so happens that it is surprisingly easy to recall every passing minute when each one feels like it’s been put there specifically to test you.

The afternoon after the Balcony Incident, for example— a few fresh hours after you left Lee Jeno behind on that overlook with the full intention of never looking him in the eyes ever again. After a late breakfast with Somi you’d told her you weren’t feeling too well, that you’d be leaving a little earlier than planned (which, even though you’d said your pain was of the intestinal variety, wasn’t untrue; you didn’t feel well, if the widening pit in your stomach caused by that morning was anything to go by) and departed her penthouse a little after one.

You’d foolishly hoped that Jeno and his entourage would have plans literally anywhere other than Mark’s place for once, wanting to do nothing but silently mope around the apartment for a few hours once you'd gotten home, but you’d been naive.

You’d been so, so naive.

“Oh!” you’d heard. Renjun. Brown hair, big dark eyes peeking at you around the doorframe as you cradled your now-aching nose bridge. You opened the front door and crashed face first into something solid. “Hey, you. Perfect timing. Do you wanna come grocery shopping with us? Jaemin’s cooking tonight!”

“We’ll even let you ride in the cart,” Chenle chimed in from further into the hallway, grinning wickedly, but you couldn’t focus on either of them because they were both half-hidden behind what you’d smashed into with your haste to get inside. No gray flannel this time, but the same unreadable expression on his face as he, much like he did at the party last night, instinctively grabbed you to keep you from falling on your ass.

(Or his expression was unreadable. Until his eyes trained on something about your face that he didn’t like and his dark eyebrows furrowed with something akin to concern. Then you remembered you’d been crying all morning and surely looked like some sort of dried-out blowfish, eyelids puffy and swollen, so you averted your eyes and jumped out of his grip like he’d stung you.)

“Busy,” you told them quickly, “Sorry. Not today.”

Renjun pouted. Chenle squinted at you, obviously doubtful. And when Jeno finally moved out of the way, you didn’t even thank him for keeping you upright. You just kept your attention on the ground and beelined into the apartment.

Little did you know, that one word would become your mantra. Busy, busy, busy. But it wasn’t like you were completely lying, because you were busy. The Aegon showcase was in a week which meant you had practice every free hour with Somi and the others, and the last thing you needed was to get distracted by circling Jeno like some kind of sad, miserable shark. The good thing about being out of the house so often was that most of the week passed with no more Jeno-related incidents.

Thursday night ended up being the first time you’d seen him with your own eyes since you face-planted into him the previous Saturday.

You’d returned home at 10PM, sweaty and exhausted from a last minute choreo change that had, apparently, also wiped clean the memory of what Thursday nights meant in the Mark Lee household. Movie night. The tiredness you felt was so all-encompassing that upon the discovery of all seven of them sitting around the couch staring at you as you entered, there wasn’t even enough energy to feel awkward. Even then, you must not have looked as ghastly as you felt because Jaemin smiled at you like nothing was amiss, gesturing towards the dining table and the mountain of brown bags atop it.

“You’re late, Rockstar. Take-out’s gone cold.”

Jeno was sitting right next to him. Your muscles were like jelly. All of your bones hurt. Your brain felt like it was operating on nothing but fumes. (And this is what you blamed for your cowardice— the fact that you couldn’t even hold your head up to look in his direction in fear of catching his eye.)

After everyone had gone home and you had free reign of the kitchen once again, Mark hit you with a few more questions about the Aegon Comp; seemingly insignificant inquiries like how the parking situation was (which you didn’t understand the importance of, since he said he’d probably ride his bike there), and if he could sit wherever he wanted (which again, confused you, because the ticke you’d gotten him was one of the best in house). But in your state of fatigue you didn’t think to question it. All you wanted to do was eat something and go to bed, and that’s exactly what you did.

(If you’d had your wits about you maybe you’d have put two and two together. Maybe Somi’s words wouldn’t have caught you with the surprise they did. But as it stands…)

As it stands it’s Friday afternoon, the day of the Aegon Showcase, and half a chocolate muffin is stuffed into your face (technically now stuffed into your airway) as you come to the realization that your friend might secretly be trying to ruin your life.

“You really need to stop eating your food so fast,” Jiara murmurs, clapping you on the back with a little more force than necessary. “No one is going to take it from you. Smaller bites will go a long way.”

You gasp a breath when the chunk finally unsticks. Then, “You saw who in the audience lounge?”

Somi is nonplussed by your horror.

“I saw your brother out there trying to throw a skittle over a lighting fixture and still catch it in his mouth. When I was leaving with our food I think I heard a bunch of people cheer so I’d bet he managed to do it, which, when you think about how high these ceilings are, is actually pretty impressive—”

You fight the urge to grab her by her shoulders and shake her. “I’m not asking about the goddamn skittles!” you hiss. “Somi, you said you saw ‘them’ when you went out there. Them as in plural. Who is them?”

She makes a face like you should already know who. “Who else? Mark and the rest of his crew. And Donghyuck asked to bring a few more, so I guess those are who the other guys out there are. Why are you acting like you didn’t already know this? You were sitting right next to me when Donghyuck was practically begging to come!”

Your life flashes before your eyes.

Jeno’s car. The rain, pounding against the windows. Catching him looking at you in the mirror after Somi told them about the showcase, how it felt like the world outside faded away a little as some little message passed between you— when you felt like he was telling you something without saying a single word.

Then you remember it. In your distant, distant periphery, even though she’d been sitting not even a millimeter to your left when these alleged plans were discussed.

‘Yeah! I mean, I reserved like, a bajillion seats in advance because I knew I’d want to invite everyone who would even consider coming— I’ll definitely get the best row for you guys!’

“However,” she says after a beat, voice finally starting to show the tiniest bit of caution. You realize that your face has begun to contort on its own. “I am starting… to get vibes. That I maybe should have run that by you first? Would now be a bad time to let you know that I told them about the afterparty, too?”

Utter disbelief. The only reason you don’t leap on her once you fully comprehend what she’s said is because Gawon, who’d been watching this entire exchange with quiet brown eyes, puts a hand on your shoulder. She must be able to tell that you’re about to start freaking out, because her therapist-voice is fully activated when she clears her throat.

“Can I ask what's so surprising about this?” she asks carefully. “When we were telling Aegon about how many tickets we each wanted, you said you only needed one. For your brother, right?”

You thought of the ticket, the little envelope you’d held under your pillow for weeks as you fought with the idea of actually giving it to Mark. In the end, a few days ago, when you handed it to him and told him he could come watch you perform if he wanted to, he smiled so big that you felt bad for waiting so long in the first place. But you’d then quickly explained the caveat: that he was not to tell any of the others about it, because there was only one ticket and you didn’t want them hassling you about getting more. And Mark agreed.

Which is why you’d dared to assume that tonight would be safe.

“Yes,” you mutter. “The ticket was for him.”

“Which means you’re not surprised he’s here. So are his friends the problem?”

“The problem?”

You pause. That word makes it seem like their appearance here is actually detrimental to you in some way, like they’re just here to hassle or bully you or something, but that’s not really it at all. Your annoyance at them being here is rooted in the exact opposite. They’re not going to joke around and take it easy, or pat you on the back and tell you that you did well, like how they would if they’d come to watch one of their friends dance. They’re going to swarm you and coo and treat you like a five year old that just stumbled through their first ballet recital.

And as if that isn't bad enough, you realize with a start that you've actually got more to worry about than just being embarrassed by their innate need to baby you.

They, you remember yet again. Plural.

You quickly fix your doomsday-esque expression. "Uh. No, no problem, just... I'm over-exaggerating, forget it, Somi, when you said they, how many are we talking exactly?"

"Seven," she says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you fight to keep your shoulders from sagging. "The three from the car, your brother, and three others I don't really know as well, but who're all just as cute."

Seven. Which means Lee Jeno will be in the audience as well. You should've already known that, fully aware that wherever Mark goes Jeno will follow, but you'd been so startled by the change in attendance that you'd momentarily forgotten that you were pointedly avoiding one of that seven.

Great.

A click echoes over the announcement system. You recognize the voice that follows as the organizer of the showcase, the cheerful woman from the promotional video, happily informing all the performers to head to their greenrooms for final warm-ups before the show.

Well. Even if you wanted to mope for longer about your predicament, your mind switches lanes to the task at hand. Somi and Gawon both titter excitedly at the update, but make sure to quickly give their final reassurances about not worrying too much about the people in the audience and using that energy to give your all on stage. They’re right of course, and you probably would have come to this conclusion on your own once you swallowed your knee-jerk reaction to gripe about everything involving your brother and his friends, but you can’t say that their enthusiasm doesn't do the heavy lifting of bringing you back to earth.

You've got a competition to rock, after all. You could worry about everything else after.

Adrenaline made the hour-long showcase go by in what seemed like fifteen seconds.

Just like that, a short chapter of your life closed with a bang; seven minutes on the stage, deafening cheers, Jiara and Guyeon pulling everyone into one big sweaty hug as soon as you were all out of the spotlight— then you blink and you’re in Gawon’s car with the windows down blasting down Gangnam on the way to Somi’s house, the girls in the seats around you singing along to the radio at the top of their lungs. The sun is setting, you’re heading to your celebratory afterparty, and what should be a picture-perfect moment is completely ruined by the fact that your mind has been in shambles for the last hour and a half. Why?

Because as you inch closer and closer to Somi’s penthouse, all you can think about is the fact that Lee Jeno is sitting up there biding his time before he can stomp your heart into a million more microscopic pieces.

What you didn’t mention about the moments after the performance was that, after rushing through changing out of your performance outfit to find your friends and get the hell out of there, you stumbled out of the greenroom to find a person. A person who was frowning out in the corridor like some sort of mopey ghost, Jeno in all his annoyingly perfect glory, caught mid-pace.

Upon seeing him your body rebooted, a hundred different emotions flashing through your system from the shock of him appearing in front of you at that moment. The only thing you had time to notice before his words ruined the rest of your afternoon was how… fidgety he was; Running his hand through his hair, rocking from foot to foot, crossing and uncrossing his arms over his chest. You’d always taken note of how still Jeno could be sometimes, not moving an inch for seemingly hours at a time, which was the main reason his current inability to stay still even caught your eye— but it was quickly overtaken by the utter despair you felt not soon after he caught sight of you and opened his mouth.

“Can we talk?” he’d asked. And he’d sounded so unsure of himself that you almost instantly crumbled to the puppy-dog eyes, before reality grabbed you by the neck and you remembered that talking to him was actually the last thing you wanted to be doing right now.

“Busy,” you’d forced out. “My friends are waiting for me outside.”

But he must’ve seen this coming because he looked nonplussed as you took a step back, his own feet matching yours stride for stride, hands coming out almost as if to calm you like one might a spooked horse.

“It won’t take longer than a few minutes,” he tried, “Five minutes, just five. I just— I really, really want to clarify a few things from Saturday. What I said on the balcony.”

He said it like there was a chance you might’ve forgotten what happened, which almost made you laugh in disbelief. Like it was possible to forget that shitshow, your first love telling you that he was kind of interested in you once upon a time, but did nothing about it because your brother came first. Though, once you fully realized that he meant he wanted to talk about that right now, the moment lost its humor.

Now? Here? You glanced up and down the hallway. Your friends weren’t around, nor were his, but you were hardly alone.

“I wasn’t being entirely—”

“You're going to the party, aren’t you?” You cut Jeno off. Very unlike you when it came to him, and with the way he blinked you had a feeling he knew that too.

“The party?”

“Somi said she invited you guys.”

“I— I wasn't sure you wanted me to come.”

“Somi invited you, Lee. Is that any way to treat your hostess? We can—” You swallowed. “Come by, and we can find a minute to talk then, but for now I really—”

“Have to go,” he finished with a small wince. “Got it.”

And once he’d metaphorically let you go, taking a step back to slip his hands in his pockets, you’d all but run away; finding Guyeon and Gawon waiting for you like they said they’d be, ready to leave and head to Alice’s house to pretty-up for the party in her gigantic flat. You were trying your best to keep up the energy when you got into the car with them, laughing along to their jokes and dancing along to the music, but you couldn’t stop thinking of what type of curbstomp Jeno was about to release on the suffering remains of your sixteen year-old feelings.

Even up until the final touches of your make-up, you were commiserating. What the hell could he possibly want to clarify?

Was he going to tell you to stop being weird around him and the others, because your mood was fucking up their vibe? To stop avoiding him so obviously, that it was as noticeable for everyone as it felt for you, that it was making it awkward for him?

Or could he mean that he was going to tell you he’d… misspoken? That he’d never really liked you the way you liked him, and didn’t want you to misunderstand— by interested in you he meant in the way all guys were interested in all girls, some lowly, surface level thing that he quickly got over when he realized his friendship with your brother could be jeopardized by it?

The last thought had stung a little more than the others, and you’d accidentally frowned so hard about it that it creased your still-setting concealer and had to wipe it all off.

After angrily redoing your base you’d forced it from your mind and got dressed, stealing a simple henley dress from Gawon’s closet upon realizing that you were not in the mood for sexy-cute like Somi had said the dress code was. Instead you opted for ‘hey, you can see my legs and that's good enough,’ and huffed your old leather jacket on top of it; the latter was sure to piss her off but she still owed you from the Mosquito Boy Incident, so she could kick rocks about it for all you cared.

You had a feeling that no matter what you wore, tonight wasn’t going to be very sexy-cute at all.

The party is just getting into the swing of things when you make it upstairs. It’s like the explosion of a birthday surprise when you and the girls walk through the door. This party is technically a celebration, and you guess a lot of these people must’ve been in the Aegon audience without you knowing it, because you’re getting congratulations and kudos and pats on the back like you’ve just won an olympic medal.

But your pride is short lived, tainted by a bolt of nerves when you think you spot someone that looks like Donghyuck in your periphery. Where Hyuck is, Jeno will be.

It turns out to only be a very tall girl with a pixie cut who winks at you when you whirl your head to her, but the stress of it doesn't ebb away. God. Is the whole night going to be like this? Walking on pins and needles until he finds you?

“You know, new girl,” A voice starts at your side, startling you further, “Your ice breaker back at that my party could’ve been that you’re a kick-ass dancer, instead of that bullshit with the mosquitos.”

Wooyoung. Your friends are suddenly nowhere to be seen when your turn to him, clearly having fucked off into the mass the second alcohol became available, so it’s just the both of you hovering over by this snack table. Though this is only the second or third time you’ve interacted with him past a greeting (you see him sometimes on campus, and he always waves at you like you’re best friends when you pass each other), you’re actually rather soothed by his presence.

“You wanted to know juicy secrets, not secret hobbies. If you asked me for an ice breaker and I told you I could dance, you would’ve kicked me out of that house.”

He laughs, a snickering sound, before eyeing two jello-shots a girl walks by with in her hands.

“Do a shot with me?” he pouts. “My friends are running late and I’m still painfully sober.”

A shot?

...Hm. A shot. Inebriation. You’re not one to like straight liquor because the burn in your throat is often more than you think the gag is worth. But if you’re looking to relax sooner rather than later… the pain might not be without its merit.

Liquid courage. Something you could definitely use right now, as skittish as you’re being. Maybe he’s onto something.

“Just one?” you pique, turning to survey the options. “Thought you were more hardcore than that, VP.”

One jello-shot quickly turns into four with Wooyoung involved, and your mouth is sweet with the taste of artificial dye by the time you actually spot Donghyuck, over by Somi’s balcony doors chatting up some pretty girl you recognize from your physical education class. The volleyball player. Xiaoting or something close, and you almost snort at the sight because she seems way out of his league. But he has a way with words that you guess you could be attractive when he wields it with flirtation in mind, instead of the intent to piss off like he always does with you.

The Smirnoff burning in your stomach must already be settling in because you only mildly bristle when you see him. Like you thought earlier: Hyuck is here, which means Jeno is here. And… and the Smirnoff must’ve already hit your brain, actually, because all of a sudden you’re feeling agitated and confrontational.

You don’t want to spend all night worrying about when he’s going to find you and drop the bomb. So what if he doesn’t like you! So what if he probably wants to forget the moment that happened out on that balcony never occurred at all? You lived your life without yearning over Jeno for years before you moved back here, so it won’t even be that hard to go cold-turkey when he says what he needs to and inevitably squashes the remainder of your heart in his fist. It’s fine. You’ll live.

You just need to rip it off like a bandaid first. And to do that?

“Hey, Woo, I think I need to go and look for somebody. You’re still down for that dance battle later?”

“I don’t play around with my challenges,” he says, grinning much too wide, “I’ll find you later, and then it’s on. Knock em’ dead, new girl.”

As bold as you suddenly are, you actually don’t want to go and interrupt whatever Donghyuck has going on just to ask him where Jeno is. So you’re on your own for a little, scanning the walls for him and the stupid clavicles poking out of his button-up, hair all windswept and eyes so dark. It’s nearly a minute of searching before you see something familiar— but it’s not exactly what you’re looking for.

Close enough, though.

It seems like Na Jaemin has actually spotted you first, since he’s already heading towards you when you spot his head of pink darting through the crowd. You don’t fuss when he musses your hair and gasps over the competition, applauding you in that sickeningly earnest way he always has, since you’re used to his preening and compliments. Not to say you’re not appreciative. It always makes your face hot when he coos over you like this. But you’ve got a mission in mind, and fretting at him over the pouting and cheek-squeezing will get you nowhere.

“Yes, thank you, I did hear you cheering over everyone else at the end, no I wasn’t hiding my swag from you on purpose, thank you, you can stop pretending to cry now. Where is Jeno?”

The idea of you looking for Lee Jeno on purpose must startle him, because there’s a second after his clear offense at you brushing him off where he registers what you’re asking for and actually looks a little concerned. “Jeno? No-Jam? Why? Did he say something to you?”

“What? No, I just need to talk to him about something. Thought he’d be hanging around you.”

Imperceptibly, Jaemin lightens.

“Oh. He’s downstairs hefting handles out of Somi’s car, because blondie forgot half the drinks in her trunk. He got volunteered by Chenle as Mr. Muscles and left with her like five minutes ago, so he should be back any minute.”

Damn it. Forlornly, you glance at the door, but there's nothing. No movement. Nada. There goes all your building bravado.

“But before he returns, young lady, should we talk about how that red tinge to your lips better be from the non-alcoholic jello-shots?”

Ah. Whoops. Not only no movement, but now you’ve gotten yourself trapped in the sights of Na Jaemin, who likes to pretend to be staunch on things like laws and teenage innocence and waiting to do things until the government says you’re allowed to. You constantly forget that you’re not yet the drinking age, because no college student handing out drinks at a party ever gives a fuck about the fact that you’re legally not quite legal yet. No other college student besides the one standing in front of you.

“You’ll stunt your growth if you drink before you’re supposed to!”

To this you glance at the cup he’s holding, clearly half full of something, and nearly go to laugh and ask him what his excuse is since he’s barely 21 himself, but then you think of something funnier. Without really thinking about it you snatch the cup from his hand and hork it down. Your eyes are locked with his the entire time so you get to see his surprise grow into shock, then expand into disbelief as you chug, and chug, and chug.

There’s a lot of… some peach flavored crap in here, burning like murder all the way down, to the point that you’re more bewildered than smug when the cup is finally drained because, “Fuck, Na, what is that shit? Are you trying to black out?”

“Language!” he hisses, genuinely startled for the first time you’ve seen in a long time, which makes you laugh, “And of course not because that wasn’t mine, you little brat! I was holding that for Somi!"

“Oh,” you reply, only mildly shifted by this news. Sorry, Som. Now you know it must be peach Schnapps. She loves Schnapps. “What, so you’re not drinking tonight at all? Are you DD?”

“No! I’m not drinking, and I’m offended that you don’t already know I hate the taste of alcohol. Mark, who may I remind you is in this room and would’ve just shit himself if he’d seen what you just did, is playing designated driver tonight! He’s…”

And as he glances towards the kitchen you follow his gaze. You’re expecting to see your brother, most likely laughing over something his friends are saying, maybe even trying to dance-battle someone if he's having a particularly good time. Instead you see your brother chatting up Jeon Soyeon.

Jeon… Soyeon. Nabi Bar, Jeon Soyeon. Who you haven’t spoken to or even seen since that awful night in Gangnam.

And you nearly gasp in terror at the sight.

Jaemin doesn't finish his sentence, and you dart your eyes to him when you realize this. He doesn’t look very pleased by what he’s seeing either, though you’re guessing for an entirely different reason than the one that’s just made you go cold.

“What?” you ask a little too quickly. The front door opens, which should be your cue to look for who’s just come in, but you can’t tear your eyes from the sight of Soyeon and Mark. What the fuck? What the fuck? “Do they know each other?”

“Know each other?” Jaemin scoffs. “Hard to quantify.”

It would be very, very bad for you if they knew each other. Very bad. If not already clear, Mark still had no clue you weren’t where you said you were on the night of Nabi Bar. If she happened to mention your involvement in that shity, shitty idea, you had no doubt that Mark would go all holier-than-thou on you in front of all these people, and that you’d probably have to dive off of the balcony to escape the reaming.

He doesn’t look particularly comfortable, near pressed up against kitchen island because Soyeon is so close to him, hand rubbing at the back of his neck in that way you’re well aware means he’s getting flustered; but you see him laugh at something she says in the next second, and it doesn’t seem like his fake laugh. Mark’s fake laugh is terrible, and even from a distance you can spot it like the flashing lights on an ambulance, a beacon of distress just the same. So he’s laughing for real, at something… Soyeon is saying?

But you hardly recall her being very funny.

“What does that mean, hard to quantify? Do they have history?”

“Something like that,” he murmurs. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Anyway, I think Jeno is—”

“You never look at anyone with any kind of attitude, and just now you rolled your eyes at her.”

“I didn’t roll my eyes. I blinked. For a long time. Something in my eye. Dusty in here.”

“Somi has this place deep cleaned twice a week.”

He stares at you like he’s begging you to drop it. You stare back, unwilling. “You know, Na, the longer you stall, the more time that all this illegal alcohol in my blood has to make me more bold and reckless and unruly. If I don’t get an answer from you I might just go over there and ask her myself. How do they know each other?”

You’re bluffing, of course— there’s no way you’re about to go over there just to see what they’re talking about when you could safely squeeze that information out of Jaemin instead. In reality, you were only pressing because you wanted to know if they were close enough for Soyeon to know you and Mark were related. If not? Then perfect! You’d forget it all and be on your merry way, reverting back to your original plan of finding Jeno, because there’d be no chance Soyeon could spill the beans.

But if Soyeon does know? You might have to leave this party a little earlier than scheduled.

“You want the whole, grown-up truth?” Jaemin finally relents.

“Might I remind you for the hundredth time that I’m only a year younger than you?”

“A year and a half,” he acquiesces with a sigh, “And Jeon Soyeon may or may not have slept with your brother to get him to do their midterm project last year.”

It comes out like he’s reading the headline from a newspaper and you made the mistake of swallowing right before he opens his mouth, choking violently on your own spit. He pats you on the back as you hack and cough before continuing.

“None of us are really sure about exactly what really happened because Mark kind of shut down after, wouldn’t tell us anything. But it was pretty clear he liked her before. She’s kinda his type, you know?”

Edgy, pretty, and fucking evil, yeah, after having to chase a few of them away in high school you’re well aware of his type! This was not what you wanted to know about when you asked if they were close! What the hell?

“He told us they’d gone all the way right before she asked him to do their entire music production project because she was too busy caring for her sick little sister. He, being the bleeding heart he is, pretty much refused to listen to us about how convenient the timing was; he even got mad when Chenle did some sleuthing and found out that Soyeon’s parents facebook, which was filled to the brim of photos of their family, didn’t have any trace of another kid in their midst besides her. Wouldn’t believe us until after the project was turned in, when he tried to meet up with her for weeks and she ghosted him every time.”

He frowns. “At the end of it, he wasn’t… It wasn’t good. He was pretty crushed.”

Now you regret chugging his drink for fun. Even before it you’d been feeling further than chill, pleasant and buzzing from your shots, well prepared for whatever hell was to arise with Jeno. Now you felt loose; too loose, fingertips tingling at your sides because of this news, heart pounding in your chest, body so warm from the alcohol that you felt like Jaemin would hiss if he’d laid a finger on your skin.

To play games with you, that’s one thing. But Soyeon has laid her hands on your brother?

“And, knowing all of that,” you say slowly, clearly, “You’re still letting him sit there and talk to her?”

“I want to kick her away,” Jaemin says flatly. “I’d be lying if I said I trust that girl as far as I can throw her. But it’s not really up to us to get involved.”

“Who is us?”

“His friends? I mean he was pretty clear when it happened that he did not want to talk about it—”

You bark a laugh, but there’s no humor to it at all. “So he can pout and gripe about the sanctity of discussing your problems with people, the embarrassing, the horrifying, but when it comes to him he gets to keep secrets? Forget how hypocritical that is, you guys are listening?”

Jaemin, finally, seems to catch the heat in your words. “Uh. He told… I mean, before you get all up in arms, she may be over there apologizing for all we know. Maybe she’s repenting.”

You both stare at her as she tips her head back in laughter, the salacious flirty kind where you’re more focused on being attractive than actually enjoying the joke, before she puts her hand on his chest in a, ‘Wow, you’re so funny, take me now,’ kind of way, leaning in to say something to him that she clearly doesn’t want anyone else to hear. Every hair on your body stands up when Mark doesn’t push her away.

He’s not seriously buying her shit again, is he?

“Jaemin, are you willing to bet your life on that?”

“What?”

“Everything you just said about Soyeon. You know that for fact?”

“Well, no, Mark didn’t actually tell us about it so I can never be sure, but… but with what we could gather, it was pretty cut and dry. Chenle actually also found out she had a boyfriend at the same time she did all that stuff with Mark. We just couldn’t bear to tell him that after the fact, so we never… Hey, where—”

You’re sober enough to make it through the throng of people without stumbling, but not sober enough to fully anticipate what you’re really about to do. The goal is just to separate them, somehow, to get that harlot away from your brother, and then you’ll go and deal with Jeno. If people greet you as you pass you don’t hear or see it; all you can grasp is her, touching him, laughing with him, cheating, lying, people-using—

“Mark,” you nearly hiss, “I need to talk to you. Now.”

Mark jumps a foot in the air when you grab him but Soyeon, for some reason, doesn’t look surprised to see you in the slightest. She does, however, raise a sharp blonde eyebrow at your tone.

“What,” Mark splutters, “Right now?”

“Yeah,” Soyeon sighs, continuing to trail her eyes up and down Mark’s face instead of looking at you, “The grown-ups are talking, sweetheart. Can’t you give us a second?”

Mark turns back to the sensual softness of her voice like a moth to a flame, and you want to smack him. “No. Not a second now, not a second later, not a second tomorrow or forever. Now, Mark.”

And that was where you made the mistake that turned this whole night sour. Only when Soyeon realizes it’s her you have a problem with, catching on from the agitation in your tone that you’re not just here to bother Mark for fun, does she slide her unreadable gaze to you.

“You know I haven’t seen you in a while, Little Lee.”

“For the better,” you mutter. “Seriously—”

“I was so surprised when Yuqi told me you two were related.”

She’s talking to Mark but looking at you, eyes squinted a little, like someone analyzing a germ under a microscope. So she does know. Great. “I couldn’t believe that this girl was the same little star you used to tell me about when I met her. She’s grown up a lot, you know? Doesn’t take after you at all, Markie.”

“Soyeon,” you say again, “Let him go.”

“Why? So you can keep throwing your tantrum? Every time you open your mouth it gets harder and harder to see the resemblance. When you’re so…”

She doesn’t need to say it, and it’s honestly probably better that she didn’t, because you would’ve leapt at her if she’d gone as far as she’d been intending to dig with that comment. You’re aware you don’t resemble Mark, physically or otherwise— in accomplishment, in talent, in patience, in perfect unmarred reputation. You’re well fucking aware.

“Soyeon,” Mark finally says, thankfully lurching a little in your direction like her evil witch's spell is finally wearing off, “I don’t think there’s any need for that, what the hell is going on? Do you two know each other?”

Soyeon opens her eyes comically wide. “You don’t know?”

And you feel Mark stop. What the hell are you doing, you want to scream. Why are you even pausing for this bullshit? Come on! But he doesn’t. He stands there and he stares at her, as if searching her face for any sign of truth, and Soyeon takes this as her cue.

“Little star is a big girl now! Her own fake ID, clinging along with her baby bottle to any club the adults want to go to, even catching her own ride home with any wasted guy that smiles in her direction! Don’t you live together? What a handful she must be if she can sneak out under your nose, Markie.”

The blood rushing in your ears makes it hard to tell if it’s only you that’s losing your hearing or if the rest of the people hanging around in the kitchen really have quieted to watch the rising altercation, but you don’t dare move your eyes from the girl to check. The baby bottle comment, outing your fake ID, all of that is rage inducing on its own— but it’s a cold, stomach twisting madness that grabs you when you latch on to the last part of what she’s just said. Catching your own ride home?

Was she referring to Yoobin?

Your fingers unfurl from Mark’s jacket.

“What do you mean, catch my own ride?”

Soyeon laughs. Under normal circumstances, it would be a pretty sound. “Did you think we didn’t see you leave? Blowing up our phones like there was some big emergency— We sent that guy out there to keep you the company you wanted so much, God, we got tired of babysitting you. You stopped calling and neither of you came back inside. What, cause your brother is here you’re going to try and soften it up now, huh? Tell us all you didn’t go home with that drunkard, when you love to tell people you’re no stranger to a bar?”

Yoobin, who grabbed you, touched you, tried to drive you home in his wasted state with clear intentions on what he wanted in return.

Yoobin, who Soyeon and Yuqi and their friends had sent, knowing you were panicked, knowing he made you uncomfortable, knowing you were looking for them.

Soyeon who stopped hearing from you and laughed it off. Soyeon who stopped hearing from you for days and didn’t bat an eye, knowing what she’d left you alone with.

Soyeon, who’s straight, pretty nose cracks under your fist in the same way Yoobin’s did, except this time you don’t run away when she screams and collapses and you realize what you’ve done. Except this time you hit her again— or you try to at least, lunging for her with your eyes ablaze, unsure what you’ll do when you get there but 100% sure it’ll hurt worse than a bloody fucking nose— but don’t quite get there, because someone has lifted you off the ground, two iron-bar arms wrapped like vices around your ribs, the worlds tightest back hug.

In your right mind you might’ve placed the sandalwood and the bergamot, or recognized the rolled up sleeves of his oversized button up, ivory and forest green, but as it stood—

As it stood, as you shouted and thrashed and fought, you only made out one thing.

Mark Lee, your own brother, helping Jeon Soyeon to her feet, two hands firm on her arms to hold her up; his surprised voice the last thing you hear before Lee Jeno hauls you out of that house.

“Wow, Soyeon. Is that true?”

(”Rockstar is going to wallop that girl,” Donghyuck mutters, staring at you like they all are from behind the pillar separating the kitchen from the living room, alerted to the worsening confrontation by a sheepish Jaemin.

“No she won’t," Jaemin tries, clearly feeling guilty, "She knows better than that.”

“She’s gone still. And I’ve never, ever seen her eyes that wide before.”

“That’s control. It’s restraint. She’s not going to hit her.”

Renjun, then, “If you really believe that then why do you look so nervous?”

“Her fist is balled up,” Jisung comments quietly.

“It’s restraint!”

“You weren’t there the day that she knocked the socks off of Park Gyubin, right? When he tried lifting her friend’s skirt up in the cafeteria?”

“She…” Jaemin glances at Donghyuck, “She’s tried to fight men before?”

“Tried to? I thought she was going to kill him. Y/N hit him so hard he had to get his retainer refitted. She’s got a right hook like her brothers. I bruise when she hits me, you know.”

Renjun again, “Why do you sound so proud of that?”

“She… Well, no, look, look! She let go of Mark. They have to be deescalating, she—”

“Does deescalating usually involve getting closer to the object of your anger?” Jisung asks.

“She—”

“Here it comes,” Chenle announces excitedly.

And then Jeno is across the room.)

Jeno realizes before you do that you’re not going back home tonight.

His apartment looks the same. Obviously. It’s only been three weeks since you were last here. Like before, Jeno doesn’t bother with the lights, kicking his shoes off in the entryway the same way, except this time you have two shoes of your own to place next to them instead of the sad and lonely single. Three weeks ago, but it feels like it’s only been a day or two since you did this whole song and dance; following him to the bathroom, sitting on the counter as he stoops under to rummage through his first-aid bin, gritting your teeth when he rubs your knuckles with the antiseptic, smiling weakly when he apologizes for the sting.

You’d cried in his car.

When Jeno carried you out of Somi’s apartment you thought the stinging in your eyes was just discombobulated rage. But when he set you down on your feet in the elevator and you began to come down from the adrenaline high, the burning just intensified as you understood what just happened. You’d only been able to keep the tears at bay until he told you to put your seatbelt on in his passenger seat and it all became too real.

Though you’re not sober enough right now for it to feel like a problem yet, you know you’ll want to kill yourself tomorrow for allowing yourself to devolve in front of him like that no matter the circumstance. In the moment, you weren’t even entirely sure what you were crying about. Was it the craze of fury wearing off after punching Soyeon, and the jitters it left behind? Or the fact that even when Jeno was tugging you towards the elevator up there, you’d stood and waited for Mark to follow for nearly an entire minute, just for him to never come out?

You’d like to chalk it up to adrenaline and inebriation, but deep down you knew exactly what it was that had your eyes brimming with those tears.

He’d chosen Soyeon. The girl who’d lied to him, cheated with him, fucked him over for a grade and left you for dead on the streets of Gangnam, and he’d stayed in that house with her instead of coming out to check on you. And you weren’t really one to catastrophize, but how couldn’t that signal the definitive end of Mark putting up with your shit? The nail in the coffin of his patience with you?

You knew things had been rough lately with you moving in, the thread of butting heads over little things like curfews and the people you hung out with, but you hadn’t thought your relationship had deteriorated to the point that he’d ever… that he’d ever choose someone else. You’re his sister. No matter how mad he is, he’s supposed to choose you.

But he didn't. And in Lee Jeno’s passenger seat, like a giant baby, you cried about it.

In proper Y/N fashion the only thing that had chuffed you into sucking it all up and swallowing it into the depths of your soul never to be seen again, was Jeno’s building appearing on the horizon. The threat of him asking you if you’re alright and actually having to confront those feelings was terrifying enough to jar you out of your self pity.

But he hadn’t asked you about your red eyes. He hadn’t said anything, actually. He just tugged you out of the car and into the elevator. Herded you into his apartment. And tipped his head towards his bathroom just like before, except this time he was smiling. In the soft, polite kind of way that let you know he was well aware of what just transpired in his car, but was simply... letting it be.

(And you always knew Jeno was rather observant. But man, the thought behind that smile could’ve made you burst into tears all over again.)

On the counter, holding out your hand for the steps that would never come, you blinked back to the present when Jeno stopped at the healing salve. You’d been waiting for him to bust out the gauze again, already lamenting the next week of your life with the itchy fabric tight around your wrist, but all Jeno does is raise an eyebrow at you when you don’t hop off of the sink after he puts the kit away.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks.

You blink down at your hand, shiny with the balm, and then back up at him. “The rest of it.”

“The wrap? I didn’t think you needed it.”

“But that’s what you did last time I was here.”

“Because the last time you were here you didn’t know how to punch someone properly. It looked like you got her the right way this time. When I was tugging at that wrist in the elevator just now you hardly seemed to notice, when you could barely close your fist a few weeks ago.”

…Oh. Only as he mentions it do you roll your hand around in its socket, flexing your fingers under the bathroom light. Your knuckles look like shit, the newly forming bruises and angry skin, but it doesn’t actually ache like it did that night with Yoobin.

Well you’ll be damned. So straightening your wrist really does work.

“Oh,” you mumble. “I guess I don’t. Wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“Of course you weren’t. Probably thinking about what you wanted to eat, right?”

“What I— What?”

What you wanted to eat? When did you discuss that you were hungry?

“Heard your stomach grumbling in the car, so I’m assuming you haven’t eaten since before the competition. There’s a pizza place down the street that I think you’d like, a jajangmyeon shop too, but their delivery takes ages. It’s up to you.”

You stare at him, clearly not following. Jeno is relaying this to you like tonight was planned, as if it was always in the cards for you to be hanging out at his place tonight like a couple of pals, leaning against the door with his arms crossed, the perfect picture of normalcy. He thinks you’re going to be here long enough to eat? He’s not planning to have you shipped out of here in the next half hour?

But then you realize that there isn’t really another place for you to be shipped to. Mark’s apartment is… not really an option. The idea of going back there tonight almost makes your stomach roll, actually.

But if you don’t go back, that doesn’t leave much in the realm of locations to hide out at. Somi’s brother is coming home tonight, she’d squealed as much this morning, and considering how rare it is that he’s not busy in other countries you abhor the idea of intruding on their reunification. You don’t have many other friends here that you’re close enough with to just show up at their place at 10PM unannounced, not that you’d want to given that your little spat with Soyeon is probably all over everyones instagram stories right now, and is surely the only thing they’ll want to talk about.

You don’t have very many options right now. And Jeno probably knew that from the moment he decided to bring you here.

“Thinking pretty hard over there,” Jeno hums, “for what is supposed to be a two choice question. Unless you don’t want either?”

“Pizza is… fine.”

“Just fine, or actually good? I can check to see if there’s any—”

“It’s good, Lee.”

He smiles like he’s got you in the bag, and then stands up straight. “I’ll order it then.”

You nod emptily and make moves to follow him out of the bathroom, right on his tail, which is why you nearly crash into him when he whirls back around to stop you. “Oh. Almost forgot.”

“What? Forgot what?"

But you only grow more confused when Jeno speeds off towards his room without replying. There’s a creak and a shuffle, doors opening and closing before Jeno returns with a bundle of fabric bunched up in his arms.

“Can’t imagine it’ll be very comfortable to hang out in that dress all night.”

He holds out the mass; what appears to be a heather gray hoodie and black sweatpants that, even bunched up like this, still look miles too long for you. He sees you eyeing it and you fear he’s going to do something awful, like politely offer to go and get you something else as if he hasn’t already done a hundred other things for you tonight, so you quickly oblige. Once you relieve him of the pile he laughs, tells you he’s going to put the order in for the pizza, and closes the door on the way out.

You stand there unmoving for much too long, the heap of fabric clutched to your chest.

There’s so much to unpack. Being here again. The fact that he was supposed to break your heart today instead of doing all of... this. How casual he’s being about it all. The brother-slash-bestfriend shaped elephant in the room. The clothes.

But, for the sake of not collapsing under the weight of all of that turmoil, you decide to just focus on the latter; the most immediate and least heart wrenching of the bunch. His clothes. You’re going to wear his clothes.

Yet another of your old dreams coming to fruition in this apartment. Lucky you.

Jeno is laying across the long part of the couch when you exit the bathroom, footsteps making no noise because you’re padding along on top of the ankle hems. He’s dressed differently too; gone is the jeans and the ivory button up, in its place a black long sleeve and navy blue sweatpants just like yours, except his actually fit. He’s texting furiously on his phone when you round the corner, eyebrows furrowed with something like irritation before he sees your looming figure in the corner of his eye and looks up.

"I put an X-Men movie into the DVD player," he announces, squinting back down to his screen, "Couldn't think of a better time than now to finally get into it, since you'll be here to explain all the things I don't understand..."

But he trails off as he stares at his phone, eyebrows furrowing at something before he frowns and stands up. The look is gone when you shuffle towards the couch and he looks up again, smiling at you like you like nothing is wrong, before he says, "I need to make a call though. Start the movie, yeah? I'll be back before things get interesting."

You stare at him. Probably shouldn't miss the opening scene if you really want to 'get into it', you nearly say. But you've been on this earth for long enough to recognize when someone wants a little privacy.

You want to ask if it's Mark. If he's the one Jeno had been messaging back so agitatedly just now. But the fear of it not being him, Jeno instead just trying to sort something out with like, a truant project partner or something, makes you stuff it down again. It'll just make you look even more pitiful.

"Sure. Most of the intro is fan service anyway."

He opens his mouth like he's about to say something else but then his phone starts to ring and he only smiles tightly at you instead. Then he's gone down the corridor, into his bedroom, and when the ringtone finally stops you can barely hear his voice much less make out what he's saying. Hm.

A different day and you might've snuck off after him to eavesdrop just to see for yourself. But after tonight?

You simply watch him go, and then tumble onto his couch with the exhaustion of someone who's just run up and down the building a dozen times.

You don't even have the strength to reach over for the TV remote; you just lay there and revel in the softness of the cushions, and at how tired you suddenly feel. Rehearsal all morning, giving it your all on stage, the energy-leeching atmosphere of a house party, the alcohol sagging through your veins. Not to mention the emotional confusion. Crying always takes it out of you.

So it's no wonder that you forgo turning the movie on to just take a moment to breathe in the pleasantly dark living room, closing your eyes for what you intended to be a brief second, just to gather the last bits of your patience and sanity for the night ahead... only to fall victim to what happens to most people when they say they're just resting their eyes.

You fall asleep.

At least for a little while, you do. A brief, dreamless, blissful unconsciousness.

It’s so blissful in fact, that when you’re startled back to life by a knock at the front door a few minutes later— blinking the haze out of your eyes and seeing Jeno’s ceiling instead of your own, understanding with a sinking hopelessness that you’re not waking from a nightmare, that all of tonight has really happened— the dread is almost crushing when it all comes back.

But there isn't even any time to mourn. Because you realize that if someone's just knocked on the door, like the good homeowner he is, Jeno will be out here any second now to open it. He'll come out here and he'll see you and you'll be sucked right back into that nightmare, pretending like everything is fine when you both know that tonight was supposed to go so, so differently. Sitting next to each other and eating next to each other and attempting small talk for the sake of keeping things civil until you can escape this place in ten hours.

The idea almost gives you hives. You can't do it. You can't. There has to be another way. What if you make something up? A sore throat? A sudden headache?

But there's no time to think of anything fancy because in the next second Jeno's bedroom door clicks open down the hall, and panic flies up in your throat.

So you do the only think you can fathom. Before he can come around the corner and see you freaking out, you fling yourself back over and pretend to still be dead asleep.

As foolish as you immediately feel, it must work at least a little bit; you hear him come into the living room, hesitate, and then continue on past the couch on lighter steps as if worried about making too much noise. You even steady your breathing when he’s opening the door for the pizza guy— smooth inhale, smooth exhale, spaced just far enough to replicate what someone sounds like when they’ve been out for a while.

Shit. Will this actually work?

When he closes the door and the room falls to silence your heart picks up a little bit. What is he doing? Is he staring at you, trying to see if you’re faking?

Is he wondering if he should wake you up to eat? Oh, God! What if—

“Are you up?” he whispers. And you almost choke trying to swallow down the instinctual response that rises in your throat.

With surprisingly great effort, you do nothing. Say nothing. You don’t even stir. You just pray to whatever God is out there that Jeno will take the hint, eat his pizza at the kitchen island, leave you out here and go to bed. You get excited when you hear his steps again and think he’s going to pass the couch straight, but of course a second later you feel the couch dip somewhere off behind your back and you nearly curse.

“Guess not,” Jeno mumbles. "I forgot that you knock out so easily."

A few more seconds of what feels like an endless quiet, only his shuffling making sound; through your squeezed-shut eyes you see the light of the TV flicker like he’s just changed the channel, and with it you hear what must be the intro to a gameshow or something— excited chatter, ringing bells, audience cheers. But the volume is turned down so low that it feels like the show is playing in another room. Is he keeping the volume low because of you?

Is he… going to stay out here?

“So you won’t mind if I think out loud,” he says suddenly, and your eyes nearly fly open in surprise. What?

But he sounds serious. “Like a test run, almost. For what I wanted to talk about earlier at Aegon. Since I still don’t really know what the hell I’m going to say even after losing sleep over it all week, and I know you’ll try to stop me if you’re awake. I should just try it now, right?”

Try it... now?

Your fake deep-breathing almost hitches in panic when you realize what he’s getting at. Sweet God, please, no. What he wanted to talk about earlier? He wants to get into that now?

“Jaemin scolded me for springing it on you like that after your showcase, by the way. I didn’t realize that I might’ve cornered you until later and I’m sorry about that. I just really, really wanted to talk. Because I didn’t before, and everything got all…” he sighs, heavily. “I’m thankful that you told me to get lost earlier, because I think I can explain it better, like this. I can start from the beginning. I know how thorough you are about things like this.”

You hear the beep of a digital watch somewhere in his house as your face scrunches up in confusion. It's officially midnight, if the watch is making noise to denote the hour, but the realization of the time only comes second to the slow bewilderment slipping through your gloom.

From the beginning? The beginning of what? What the hell does any of that have to do with firmly rejecting you?

“Before we met, because of the way Mark talked about you, I had this idea in my head that you’d be some sort of perfect, flawless angel. That you’d be a little version of him; neat and proper and just a little bit naive, too nice for your own good. A rule follower.”

He laughs at this, a genuine laugh at the memory, and your frown deepens in embarrassment. “Then I actually laid my own eyes on you for the first time, and I realized I couldn’t have been more off.”

You remember it clearly, the first time you’d made a fool out of yourself in front of him and the rest of Mark’s friends. Fourteen years old, running inside the house after walking home from class with your own crew; you’d completely forgotten that you were supposed to bring your skateboard and a change of clothes to school because you all planned to ride around the park that day, the first warm afternoon after a mushy spring, and they said if you didn’t come back out in sixty seconds or less they’d leave you in the dust. So you stormed into the house, past the living room with all of them in it without even a glance or greeting since you hadn’t realized it wasn’t just your brother in there, hurled off your uniform in favor of your outfit staples at the time— an oversized tee that you stole from Mark, hand-me-down cargo shorts that also came from your brother’s closet, and your most cherished possessions: a Yankees baseball cap and your beat-up blue Nikes.

But you couldn’t find your skateboard and the clock was running out, so you howled down the staircase, “If you moved my skateboard again from where I put it I’m going to kill you in your sleep!” only for Mark to shout back up, “It’s a tripping hazard! It’s in the hallway closet! And aren’t you grounded right now? Where are you even going? Does mom know?”

You hadn’t replied. Just snatched the board from where he said he’d stashed it, barreled back down the stairs, and was fully preparing to toss your brother some half-assed explanation, but then you’d seen him. Seen them. Mark’s new school friends, all lounging on your living room couch, staring at you as if you’d come into the room with a bomb. Lee Jeno (who’s name you’d only later find out) appeared the most stunned by your tornado-like appearance.

You could only imagine what they were seeing. Some rowdy tomboy, technically on house arrest but running out to wreak havoc on the town regardless, threatening to kill people in their sleep for tidying up. Exaggerated, obviously, but you remember being mortified halfway to Sunday by how cute they all were and that this was their first introduction to you— and in that mortification, sprinting out of the house without telling your brother anything at all.

You’d gotten a good scolding for that later.

“And it’s going to sound kind of stupid,” Jeno continues, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think you heard the smile in his voice, “But because of that, I got this idea in my head that Mark must’ve only been seeing you through those rose-tinted glasses. The type every older brother has for every younger sister, the ones that make everything they do look cute and miraculous and perfect even if they’re clearly evil to everyone else. Not saying I thought you were secretly some sort of demon or anything either, ‘cause I know you’d roll your eyes at me right now if you could. Just that the girl I saw that day was nowhere near the delicate little thing he’d described. And I got... curious. I started wondering what you were actually like.”

Your face is getting hot again. You’ve never, ever heard him speak this much in one sitting, and the idea of him ever paying this much attention to you is mind boggling. But you don’t let yourself lean into whatever feeling of hope is whistling through your head.

So what if he made a game out of trying to separate your real traits from the things Mark got wrong about you six years ago? Sometimes you liked to make up season-long dramas about strangers you saw on campus. It doesn’t mean anything now.

You want to scrunch into a ball. You aren’t sure how much more of this monologue you can handle, even despite the consequences of rolling over and breaking the facade just to get him to stop. The heat in your face is spreading to your neck, your stomach, every inch of your skin, it’s making your stomach churn with discomfort.

“But then the next year you came to our school,” Jeno says with finality, like this is supposed to be some important distinction. “And it stopped being as casual of an interest. The months went by and at some point I stopped looking for you just to see if you were doing something Mark didn’t know about, and started looking for you just because I wanted to know what you were doing. We’d come over for movie night and while Hyuck and Jae argued for hours about what they did and didn’t want to watch, I’d be wondering if I’d get to see you. You probably won’t remember this, but one of those nights I even ordered an extra curry bowl just so I’d have an excuse to knock on your door to tell you about it. And I thought that was a normal thing to do.”

Jesus Christ. Do you remember? Of course you remember! You’d been reading at your desk with your headphones in, which meant Jeno had to come all the way into your room to get your attention— tapping the side of your earbud with two gentle fingers, laughing all crescent-eyed at you when you yelped in surprise. The sight of him in your room for the first time was like a grenade going off in your tweenaged mind; you’d had to calm down for nearly an entire minute before going downstairs to get your food.

“I thought it was just Mark rubbing off on me. He cared so much about you that I thought my sudden interest was simply overprotection by relation— that he was the reason why I couldn’t stop looking for you. ‘Cause in my mind it couldn't be anything else but brotherly. Mark was pretty clear about what he thought of the people that liked you so I knew it couldn’t be that; I wasn’t stupid enough to let myself be interested in you like that. Right?”

He laughs again, but it doesn’t sound nearly as sweet this time. “I’m rambling, huh?”

Yes, you are. You are.

“I’ll cut to the ending then,” he replies like he’s read your mind. “I realized I did in fact ‘like you like that’, at our graduation.”

And your eyes pop open. It’s completely involuntary, and if you’d been facing him you would have been screwed. But you’re still looking deep into the cushions of the black couch; wide eyes staring into a deep, dark, nothing.

“I hid behind that brotherly excuse for three years. My eyes followed you in the hallway because I wanted to make sure you were okay like Mark would’ve wanted me to. I offered to drive you home from school when he was busy because that’s what Mark would’ve asked me to do anyway. Everything I wanted to do I told myself I was doing because I was just a good friend. You know?” A beat passes before he hums to himself. “But I guess you don’t, actually. Because you liked me authentically, like you do with everything. The night of our graduation, the backyard barbecue your parents threw for us. You remember that, right?”

Duh. You’d bawled your eyes out on the front porch halfway through because only then did it fully sink in that they’d all be leaving you behind, these losers you swore you didn’t even like, before wiping your face and moodily rejoining the celebration.

“Jaemin and Donghyuck were having fun like it was their last day on earth. Even Mark didn’t seem too worried about the fact that we’d be leaving our whole lives behind in a few weeks when we drove off to SNU. I asked him if he was going to miss anything and he listed a dozen things, the friends of ours that were going to different colleges, his parents cooking, his backyard, his bedroom, his electric keyboard. And I remember feeling frozen when he didn’t mention you. In hindsight I know that it was probably because he’d still be coming back home every break, and you had a whole year of high school to finish so it wasn’t like you were going anywhere, but at the moment I felt like someone just yanked the blanket off of me. Three years of pretending and it only took one conversation for it to smash through all of that and hit me like a truck. If Mark isn’t worried about it, why the hell has the idea of leaving you here been haunting me for the last week and a half?”

Oh.

“It was then, I think. That I went, ‘Ah. So this hasn’t all been because of Mark, then,’ and everything I’d ever done under the guise of brotherly obligation popped into context all at once. And as if it wasn’t enough being in my own head, I was still in the middle of talking to Mark as I realized that not only did I like you more than I’d ever liked anyone— I was looking directly at the person who would surely strangle me to death if he ever found out that I liked you more than I’d ever liked anyone. So I pretended it never happened. I said ‘yeah, me too,’ the party ended, I went home, the summer went on, and before I knew it I was on campus and had a million other things to worry about. I saw how well you seemed to be doing when Mark would show me your Instagram posts, how much fun you were having, and I let that make me feel better about being such a coward. Over time, without you around, I convinced myself that things were better like this. That it never would have worked out anyway.”

There’s a moment of silence so utterly long that for a moment you genuinely think that this is going to be it. That he’s going to have said all of that and just… sighed, gotten up, and gone to sleep, leaving you alone to be in misery over what you’ve just heard until morning.

But that’s not it. He’s got a few more words for you. The worst of them all. A string of syllables at first, ones that instantly shatter every bit of emotional resistance you’ve built for yourself these last few days— and then a sentence that has your blood turning to ice in your veins when you realize what it means.

“But then you came back to Seoul,” Jeno started simply, “And a lot of things I thought I knew for sure don’t feel quite as concrete anymore.”

You inhaled.

You exhaled.

And tried to understand what the fuck that last part was supposed to mean.

But then before you could he continued on, his voice soft, casual, innocent. Too innocent. “Like how I used to be sure that you snored when you were sleeping,” he murmured. “Has it been so long that I've forgotten? Or are you not actually asleep, Rockstar?”

[♥︎]: and there it is, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed! it REALLY gives me the motivation to work on this faster!

234 notes · View notes