Tumgik
#nct dream oneshots
tyonfs · 10 months
Text
the marriage and baby project
Tumblr media
❝ this thing cries? god, what a cockblock. ❞
PAIRING ▸ mark lee x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, angst, college au, sort of a fake dating au, sort of a roommate au
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, sexual tension, mark is a virgin, reader is a born again virgin(??), dirty talk, big dick mark agenda, golden hour reference ifykyk, oral (m. receiving), protected sex this time, also no real babies were endangered during the marriage and baby project just a robot one
SUMMARY ▸ mark lee has had the biggest crush on you for years, so, naturally, he’s over the moon when you’re both partnered for a group project. however, he underestimates just how close two people can get when they have to pretend they’re married for a month while taking care of a fake baby.
PLAYLIST ▸ nonsense by sabrina carpenter • golden hour by mark 
WORD COUNT ▸ 13,291 words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ IT’S HERE! reparations for mark sort of?? anyways i hope you guys like it ♡ part of the dunk shot! series but can be read separately
Tumblr media
MARK LEE HAD TERRIBLE LUCK.
At this point in his life, it was almost set in stone. In some parallel universe, there was an eleventh commandment reinstating this. He had friends like Park Jisung to tell him that his misfortune wasn’t that bad, but following a chain of recent events (and walking into plenty of awkward moments), Mark concluded that not only was his luck complete shit, but his best friend was a complete liar, too.
These series of unfortunate events only worsened when Mark found out he was paired with you for a group project.
Not just any group project, but the marriage and baby project. Over the next four weeks, you and Mark would play the role of a (hopefully) happy, married couple. Together, you two would be responsible for a fake baby that mimicked the real needs of an actual infant. At the end of the unit, the professor would grade him based on his parent logs and by gauging if the RealCare Baby doll was still in good shape.
The only reason why Mark took Family and Consumer Science was because his friends told him it would be an easy A for a general education requirement he needed to fulfill. No one clued him in on having to become a married man and father.
“Hi, Mark,” you greeted with a smile, sliding into the seat next to him. “I guess I’m Y/N Lee for the next few weeks.”
He felt his heart drop to his stomach.
Here was a brief rundown: you were essentially a femme fatale, a drop-dead gorgeous it-girl; and Mark was a loser who was somewhat good at playing basketball. On top of that, Mark harbored the biggest crush on you since forever.
Forever dated back to high school. The first time he laid eyes on you was during the only other class you two ever shared: AP Literature. Introductions were on the very first day, and when everyone went around sharing their passions and interests, Mark couldn’t take his eyes off of you when you gushed about how much you loved gardening.
Although Mark never spoke to you much, he had always thought you were the most breathtaking individual he had ever seen. That was probably why he was malfunctioning right now. He had never gotten the opportunity to be around you like this, mostly because you were dating Vernon Chwe up until last year. All he could do was admire from afar helplessly, eyes lingering as you strode down hallways.
Chenle told him that there was a definite shelf life on relationships like yours and Vernon’s—relationships that were mostly physical—so he was confident you two wouldn’t last. And he was right. When you and Vernon broke up, Mark felt bad seeing your teary eyes, but an ugly part of him had been waiting for it to happen.
This situation, however, was like winning the lottery. Not only was he partnered up with you, but he had to play the role of your husband? Things like this never really happened to Mark, so he figured some misfortunate was coming his way soon.
“Hey, Y/N,” he managed to get out.
“I like your hair today,” you complimented.
“I didn’t do anything to it.”
Somewhere, in the depths of Mark’s subconscious, a metaphysical Zhong Chenle was screaming, “She’s flirting with you, dumbass!” whilst stabbing Mark with metaphysical pitchforks lit on fire.
“Come up and get your babies,” the professor, Dr. Han, instructed. “These RealCare infant simulators use wireless programming to track and report on your behaviors, which is why I had you all sign those consent forms.” She held up one of the dolls for everyone to see. “I’m not gonna require you all to keep your dolls in a car seat, but I will be able to see records of misuse, clothing changes, temperature changes, whether you’ve rocked, fed, or burped your baby, or respond to its cries.”
Great. He had to walk around campus with a plastic baby. Mark’s friends were never going to let him live this down.
He wondered if the RealCare infant could play basketball.
He turned to face you again. “Do you want a boy or girl?”
“Mark Lee,” Dr. Han chided, and he nearly jumped when he saw her standing right beside his desk. “You don’t get to choose the gender of your child in real life, so I’ll be randomly assigning each couple a baby.”
“I don’t think we’ve considered the possibility of gene editing.”
“You can take that up with Congress.”
She handed Mark one of the dolls, and he assumed he was now the father of a girl when he saw the pink onesie. He also got a bag with several care items for the baby, and he shuddered at the thought of having to leave basketball practice to change his baby’s diaper.
“What should we name her?” you asked, peering over at the plastic bundle of joy.
“How about Paula?”
Mark paused after you went silent. All he could think of was the character from Earthbound when he suggested that, and you were probably too nice to say that you hated it.
You hummed in thought. “Hey, she shares a name with one of the characters from Earthbound.”
Pause. You, of all people, knew the cult classic Super Nintendo Entertainment System RPG, Earthbound? You knew Earthbound? If Mark didn’t already have a crush on you, this would have been the moment that made him fall for you hard.
“W-wait,” he stuttered pathetically. “You play Earthbound?”
“I did as a kid,” you explained. “I don’t remember much of it now, though. Paula was one of the main characters, though, right?” You scooted your chair a little closer. “So, are we naming her Paula?”
“Yeah, we can do Pau—”
“Group three has claimed the name Paula for their baby!” their professor announced. “The rest of the groups can come up and write the name of their baby on the board.”
“Who else was thinking of Paula?” Mark muttered, looking back to see said group, consisting of Jung Sungchan and Shin Yuna, who were fiddling with their baby.
You two eventually decided on naming your baby Frisk, which was the result of talking about other indie RPG games. Thankfully, the name wasn’t taken by the time Mark claimed it on the board, so you two were set with your newly-minted family. The professor had told every couple to come up with a plan on taking care of the baby, so you and Mark figured out a schedule before leaving class.
“So, I’m taking the baby back to my apartment, right?” Mark clarified while he walked with you down the hallway. “I have basketball practice right now, but if you could take care of her until I’m done, then I can take her home.”
“Where’s home?”
“Uh…” Mark was blanking. “My apartment?”
“Where is it?”
“Like, the student apartments on Sixth Street—Room 301.”
“Alright, I’ll head over there. I have to stop by my place to pack first, though.”
“Wait… what?”
“We’re married now, right?” You cocked your head to the side, as if you were confused. “Give me your keys. I’ll wait for you at home.”
Tumblr media
Maybe Mark was downright stupid, but he handed over his keys to you without a second thought.
He handed over the keys to his apartment. You two weren’t even that close for him to trust you so wholeheartedly, and here he was, acting like he had no other care in the world, no concept of safety.
For some reason, he only realized how irrational this was halfway through basketball practice. When Johnny Suh passed him the ball, he figured out mid-dribble that there was a possibility that you could rob him.
What would you even take? His deodorant? There was a pretty sweet air fryer in the kitchen that his parents got him, but it wasn’t expensive enough to rob someone’s house for. Mark was definitely in over his head because he was 100% confident that he didn’t have anything of value to you.
“Dude, are you good?” Zhong Chenle asked, patting his back firmly. “You’ve been off all practice.”
“I’m a married man now,” Mark muttered.
“Oh, nice,” Chenle replied, feigning interest before leaning over to Kim Jungwoo and whispering, “Get him some ice for his head.”
(“On it,” Jungwoo affirmed.
“Bro, don’t actually get me ice,” Mark tried, looking defeated as he watched Jungwoo walk away.)
He shot Chenle a withering look. “It’s the marriage and baby project.”
Those were the only words his best friend needed to hear. After all, it was Chenle’s fault that Mark ended up in that class, anyway. If he didn’t suggest it for Mark’s GE requirement, then Mark probably wouldn’t have had to suffer through an entire semester of it.
“Who’d you get?” Chenle asked, a wide grin stretching across his face as he pried for information.
As of late, Chenle had been overbearing about Mark’s love life. His friend was constantly pushing him to talk to girls, despite Mark’s insistence that he didn’t want to talk to anyone but you. Of course, even after declaring that, he had never actually made a move on you. He was far too shy and you were far too pretty.
“Y/N,” Mark muttered.
“Y/N,” the point guard repeated, staring his friend down until his eyes were big as discs. “The Y/N? The one you’ve been crushing on since forever?”
“Yes,” Mark replied pointedly, “and let’s not make a big deal about it because absolutely nothing’s going to happen.” After recalling his conversation with you earlier, he paused for a second before adding, “Even though… nevermind.”
“What?” Chenle pressed.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t pull that shit on me. You know I can see right through you.”
“Okay, fine.” Mark huffed lightly. “She’s crashing at my place until we’re done with the project.”
“Don’t lie to me either.”
“I’m not lying!”
“Mark, I’m not an idiot.”
“Dude, I’m serious,” he insisted, but there was no convincing Chenle until Mark had actual, physical proof. “When have I ever lied to you?”
“Remember when we played Two Truths and a Lie, and you—”
“Okay, clearly lying is required for Two Truths and a Lie, so that doesn’t count.”
“Well, that’s true.” Chenle rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess you don’t have any reason to be lying about this, but there’s no fucking way Y/N, of all people, is living with you. That’s gotta be straight out of a rom-com.”
“You’re living with who?” a voice called from behind Chenle.
Johnny Suh, captain of the basketball team and one of Mark’s best friends, strode over and slung an arm around Chenle’s shoulders. He had quite a few inches on both of them, and it made interrogations far more intimidating. This was exactly the time when Johnny would start grilling Mark for more information. Unlike Chenle, Johnny was persistent.
“Y/N,” Chenle answered before Mark could start denying. “They’re paired up for that lame baby project.”
Johnny raised his brows, impressed. “Dude, it’s your chance.”
“Chance for what?”
“To get pus—”
“Don’t say that!” Mark exclaimed, cheeks burning bright red. He felt like he was going to faint from how embarrassed he was. “I like her in a very… a very respectful way.”
“Oh.” Chenle snorted. “Good luck with that.”
With that, Chenle made some comment about being parched, and he jogged off to the water fountain. Mark’s eyes followed him, but his face was set in a frown. His friend’s good-natured comment seemed backhanded, and Mark had a weird feeling about it. So, he turned to Johnny.
“What’d he mean by that?”
Johnny grinned. “He means Y/N’s going to break you.”
(Jungwoo, who had been gone for a majority of the conversation, approached the trio and said, “I brought the ice pack.”
Mark could only sigh. “Jesus Christ, Jungwoo.”)
Tumblr media
chenle (douchebag #2): did you break yet?
mark: no
johnny (douchebag #1): did you break yet?
mark: no
chenle (douchebag #2): how about now?
mark: no
Naturally, gossip traveled faster than light, so the entire basketball team soon found out about Mark living with you. Everyone seemed to agree that you would break Mark, too, so they all started placing bets on when it would happen.
Johnny was betting on a week, but Chenle held out hope, wagering ten dollars on Mark lasting a week and a half. Mark still had no idea why they thought you were going to break him, but he was starting to understand when he walked into his apartment to see you in shorts and a bikini top.
“I was gonna go to the community pool,” you said. No greetings, just straight to business. “I can take the baby with me, if you want.”
Mark was too distracted by the two suitcases by the door to respond, though. He just glanced from you to the luggages for several seconds before he asked, “You were serious about living here?”
You tilted your head, confused. “You don’t want me to?”
“No, it’s fine, just…” Mark shook his head. “It’s nothing. Enjoy your swim.”
“You’re not coming?”
“Uh…”
“Come on,” you urged, grabbing his hand and tugging him a little closer. “You can watch Frisk while I swim.”
He swallowed hard. Something about you being in minimal clothing and getting in water didn’t seem like it would bode well for Mark. His seemingly innocent crush on you was now tainted, like ink blots splotching white paper, growing bigger and bigger.
“Sure,” he ended up saying. Mark decided not to go against you for now; he would use this opportunity to find out what the fuck was going on in your head. “I’ll put my backpack away real quick.” When he got to his room and flicked the lights on, he raised his voice so that you could hear him. “By the way, I can take the couch! You can sleep on my bed.”
He set his backpack next to his desk, but when he turned back to head to the living room, you were standing right at the doorway. His heart jumped a little in his chest, and he was sure your stay would result in him being predisposed to cardiac arrest. The RealCare baby was nestled snug in your arms as you frowned back at Mark.
“Married couples sleep together,” you said.
“B-but we’re—”
“We’ll have to go to couples therapy if you’re gonna be so distant.” There was a hint of a smile on your face, and Mark couldn’t tell if you were joking or not. All he knew was that you were crazy. Crazy and incredibly hot. “That can’t be good for the baby.”
You must have been hellbent on breaking him.
“Yeah, okay,” Mark breathed out. He supposed he would have to sleep with all his clothes on for the next few weeks. “That works for me.”
“Great!” you chirped before taking Mark’s hand and grinning. “Rub sunscreen on my back?”
The sun wasn’t even out.
Tumblr media
Mark decided he wouldn’t tell Chenle or Johnny shit.
The moment you shimmied off your shorts at the poolside, Mark was pretty sure you were already breaking him. It was bad enough that he let his hands linger when he rubbed sunscreen on your back (with no sunlight to be seen), but your bikini bottoms were offering him too good of a view. Mark distracted himself with his phone, feigning a sudden interest in tomorrow’s weather when he felt a splash of water against his cheek.
He looked up to see you on the poolside, smiling up at him coyly. “You have to hold our baby with both hands.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, shuffling to put his phone away and move the doll into a more comfortable position.
“Sit,” you insisted, patting the concrete right in front of you. “It’s no fun if you just watch.”
Mark nodded and kicked off his Nike slides to the side. He sat down at the edge of the pool carefully, adjusting Frisk in his arms so that she wouldn’t get wet, and he dipped his feet into the water. He didn’t expect it to be so warm, but he was glad that he had an excuse to explain why his face felt so hot.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Mark started, meeting your gaze with his nervous one. When you hummed inquisitively, he continued, “Why are you so into this whole marriage and baby project? I mean, I don’t think any of the other groups are going this far for a good grade.”
He thought his direct question would leave you unnerved. Instead, you just smiled.
“I don’t know,” you said. “I just feel like it’d be fun to be Mark Lee’s wife for a few weeks.”
“And… so you wanna live in my house?”
“Of course!” You straightened up, looking visibly shocked. “I’d feel horrible for Frisk if she had to be raised by separated parents.”
“Oh, uh, right.” Mark was still befuddled, but he nodded along to your words. “So, what else are you planning? I’m not gonna wake up to breakfast in bed, am I?”
“That depends.” You leaned closer and Mark could hear his heart thumping in his chest. “What’s your definition of breakfast in bed?”
If Mark was good at keeping a straight face earlier, he certainly wasn’t doing so hot right now. After realizing the implication in your words, his jaw hung open comically. He didn’t have the mental capacity to string any words together and formulate a response. There was just white sound ringing in his ears.
“You good?” you asked.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I just feel hot.”
“Then why don’t you come swim with me?” You grabbed his hand and tugged gently, encouraging him to get in fully. “The water’s nice.”
“What about Frisk?”
“Frisk will be perfectly fine. It’s just for a bit.”
Mark let out a shaky exhale. He didn’t want to get his hopes up or anything, but this offer felt like it would quickly escalate if Mark engaged. Alarms went off in his head. He knew this was much too fast for him to keep up with, but his body moved against all rational thought. Before he could stop himself, he was already putting Frisk down.
He pulled his shirt up and over his head.
You were eyeing him like a hawk, taking in his toned body as he revealed more skin. Mark almost felt shy to undress himself in front of you, but he quickly realized how much more nervous he was going to feel once he was actually in the pool with you.
With a light grunt, he lowered himself into the water. The smell of chlorine overwhelmed him for a moment, but then Mark was focused on you and how cool the water was. It did feel nice, as you told him, but now he was terrified of getting an erection.
Once, Mark walked in on Jeong Jaehyun fucking a good friend of his in a hot tub. That was how he knew pool sex was not out of the question.
“Whoa,” you mumbled, reaching out to run the pads of your fingers down Mark’s abs. “You’re so ripped.”
He tried not to shudder under your touch and instead opted for a laugh. “Are you lying to make me feel good?”
“What?”
“Like…” Mark was fumbling for words, rummaging his brain for something that didn’t sound stupid. “I feel like you’re just saying stuff to get in my head.”
“Get in your head? Why would I do that?”
His throat felt dry when he swallowed. “I don’t know,” he mumbled before clearing his throat and saying, “I just feel like you’ve never shown this much interest in me before, so…”
Your face clouded with puzzlement. Mark wondered if you were offended by him questioning your genuinity, and he seemed to be correct when you pulled back with a frown. Your hand dropped back to your side, yet your touch still lingered across his skin.
“You’re cute, Mark,” you said simply, as if you were stating a known fact. “There’s no way girls haven’t told you that before.”
No, girls hadn’t told him that.
Perhaps Mark was overshadowed by the rest of the basketball team members, but he never experienced girls flocking to cheer him on like they did for Johnny Suh. He was never the one to stay back to talk to someone who had been eyeing him the whole game. Sure, Mark got a few looks here and there, but no girl had outright told him that he was cute.
Until you, he supposed. He had received a lifetime of attention from you today. This was quite possibly the most significant point of his college experience so far.
Whenever Mark and his friends talked about girls, he would always quietly listen. He never had much to share, especially not when Jungwoo had stories that rivaled Casanova himself. No one cared enough to hear about Mark’s pure little crush on you when they could hear about the threesome Jungwoo had with two cheerleaders.
Plus, you had been with Vernon for so long. Mark held his tongue most of the time out of respect. Even if you weren’t part of the conversation, he didn’t want to talk badly about Vernon just because he liked you. It would have been pathetic of Mark to talk big when, in reality, he was a coward.
“Only you,” he replied in a soft voice, almost embarrassed.
You looked genuinely shocked when you asked, “Really?” That coy smile returned to your lips when you shook your head and moved to wrap your arms around Mark’s neck. You simpered, “Poor, poor Mark. You really have no idea.”
“Idea of what?”
He shivered when your breath tickled his ear. “Any girl would kill to be in my shoes right now.”
That had to be an exaggeration. Mark didn’t condone murder. Plus, you were barefoot.
“I have a feeling,” you continued, “that you’re not as innocent as you pretend you are.”
Was that the impression Mark gave off? It wasn’t that he was trying to present himself as some goody two shoes, but he was far tamer than the rest of his friends.
But maybe you were implying something else. Something more carnal.
If you were implying that Mark hadn’t let a single dirty thought rack his brain, then you were gravely mistaken. Mark Lee was still a man—a man who oftentimes thought with his dick. Of course, he tried his best to never think of you in indecent ways, but what good was his willpower when you were stripped down to a bikini in front of him?
Mark let out a shuddering breath and held you back by your shoulders. “Y/N, I don’t think us being this close right now is a good idea. We’re in public, like—”
“So?” You laughed, moving his hands from your shoulders to your waist. Mark had to keep his large hands from fidgeting, especially when you moved in so close that your chests were nearly touching. “I don’t see anyone else out here.”
“Someone could walk through those gates at any moment.”
“Then I hope they enjoy the show.”
One could call you desperate.
Mark wouldn’t call you that, though. There was no desperation in your tone; you were just confident—someone who marched to the beat of their own drum. It was like you had zero shame in any of the things you said, so Mark wouldn’t dare call you desperate. Especially not when he liked you too much for his own good.
There was no way he could resist your advances, not when you were looking at him with those bedroom eyes. Mark could only close your eyes and anticipate what he had been waiting for his entire life when you started leaning in.
Right when your lips neared his, though, Mark heard a splash right next to him. At first, he brushed it off, but then the gurgles and cries snapped him out of whatever trance he was in. The mechanic wailing made his heart drop to his stomach.
“Oh shit,” you whispered.
Your maternal instincts kicked in when you dunked your head in the pool to save the plastic baby. Mark, on the other hand, turned around with a scowl. He leaned over the poolside and shook his head in dismay.
“This thing cries?” he muttered to himself. “God, what a cockblock.”
Tumblr media
“Uh… is it okay?” Mark asked, trying to wrap his head around why you looked so distressed over the fake child. “Or, well, are you okay?”
“It?” you repeated, scowling at Mark’s unintentional dehumanization of the robot infant. “You’re referring to our baby as an it?”
“Sorry.” Mark hoisted himself up and out of the pool. He sat beside you to examine the doll, and it seemed as if the RealCare infant was still in good shape. There was no noticeable damage done by the water, so you two seemed to have lucked out. “I’m sure nothing’s gonna happen to our grade. Maybe she’ll think we gave her a bath!”
You didn’t meet Mark’s eyes, and your voice was no louder than a whisper when you said, “Hopefully.”
“What’s wrong?” He placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently in an attempt to comfort you.
“I’m a horrible mother.”
“You’re not a horrible mother.”
“I am an utterly horrible mother.”
“It’s a doll, Y/N.”
“It’s our child, Mark!”
“If you’re a horrible mother, then I’m a horrible father,” he insisted. For a moment, you just looked up at him with perplexed eyes, so Mark sighed and sat down in front of you. He crossed his legs and placed a hand on Frisk’s plastic leg. “This means we can just learn how to be good parents together—little by little. We’re not gonna get everything right the first time. That’s how parenting works, right?”
Slowly, a smile crept to your lips, and Mark had never been so elated to see your eyes gleam so cheerfully.
“Thanks, Mark,” you said, punching his shoulder playfully. It actually hurt like a bitch, but Mark steeled his nerves so that he didn’t look pathetic in front of you. “You’ve really got a way with words sometimes.”
For a moment, he felt like this moment you two shared was almost beautiful. A little dispute resolved shortly after common understanding was the perfect thing to bond over. Sure, you were a little strange at first, but Mark was starting to think that maybe—deep down—you could be vulnerable, too.
But then you crushed his notion into shards of glass when you asked, “So, are you a virgin?”
Mark let out a strangled noise that sounded like a cat drowning. He lamely hit the center of his chest with his fist to regain his composure, but your sincere smile was already morphing into a smirk, and Mark felt like his world was capsizing. Once again, he had reverted back into a complete loser. His moment of glory was over.
“Um… define virgin.”
“Someone who hasn’t had sex,” you answered.
Oh, that probably made sense.
He tried to divert the topic with a pathetic whine. “We were just having a moment.”
“A moment has to end eventually.”
“You could’ve ended it with a gentler transition,” he grumbled, “but, yes, I’m a virgin.”
You frowned. “How?”
“What do you mean, how? I just haven’t had sex.”
“But we had a baby together.”
“A plastic baby for a group project,” Mark deadpanned. He wondered when you would ever stop blurring the lines between fantasy and reality, even though it amused him. He turned the question on you, asking, “Are you a virgin?”
He knew damn well you weren’t, but you replied, “Yeah.”
Mark narrowed his eyes. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Y/N, I’m not stupid.”
“I’m a born again virgin.”
“Oh my God.” He wanted to die. “You are not a born again virgin.”
“I’m not sure you can make that decision for me.” You then grinned like a Cheshire cat, a clear indication that you were going to say something that would wind up having you redirected to a psychologist. “We can lose our virginities to each other.”
Mark tugged a hand through his hair and, almost embarrassed by how choked up his voice sounded, whispered, “Are you insane?”
“Maybe so.”
And Mark ended up laughing. Laughing hysterically to the point where he thought he was going crazy. He probably looked and sounded like a madman, but you were eerily calm. You had finally pushed him off the edge, and he hated to admit it, but he was certain that you had finally broken him. It only took less than a day for you to pull apart the strings of his sanity—an impressive feat, really.
Except you hadn’t broken him quite in the way Johnny and Chenle were probably expecting. Whatever it was you did spurred Mark Lee to grab you by the back of the neck and lean down to kiss you hard.
And when he pulled back, breathless and frazzled, your lips curled into a grin that could make flowers bloom and birds sing.
Tumblr media
And, so, it carried on like that for the next week.
Mark and you lived together for an entire week with not too many complications. Sure, he was getting irritated from the baby waking him up every night, but it wasn’t as terrible as the intense sexual tension that he could do nothing about.
You would always subtly make a move on Mark, who would attempt to reciprocate and proceed to either get interrupted by Frisk or something else. So, Mark would wait until you were asleep to jerk off in the bathroom. He knew that you would be fully willing to help him out, but he still couldn’t tell what your intentions were, so he felt unsure about starting something with you.
However, that didn’t stop Mark and you from making out with each other whenever you could. After the first kiss, you two couldn’t get enough of each other. Mark was eager to run his hands down your body while yours were dangling loosely around his neck. You would practically jump into his arms, allowing him to carry you until you were pressed against a wall or thrown onto his bed, and then he would lose himself to the taste of your lips.
Until Frisk would start crying again.
“Anything noteworthy?” Chenle asked during practice, dribbling his basketball while keeping his gaze fixed on his best friend.
“I kissed Y/N again,” Mark said, “because she was driving me crazy… again.”
“As one does, I guess.” Chenle threw the ball to Mark, who caught it swiftly. “Good job, dude. Maybe you’ll finally get laid.”
That was how Mark’s updates had been going for the past week. Chenle was more impressed the first few times, but now his response seemed scheduled, like he was expecting it.
The first night was truly the strangest encounter. After you and Mark shared a frenzied kiss, he took off his jacket to cover you up after noticing the goosebumps running down your arms. Then, he walked you back to his apartment (and sprinted back to the pool afterward because he left Frisk at the poolside).
The heated poolside kiss offered the perfect opportunity for you and Mark to spend the night together, but he couldn’t get a grip on himself. He ended up tucking you in his bed and sleeping on the couch. It took a while for him to fall asleep, though, because all he could think about were how soft your lips were against his.
But it was all so wrong.
Mark felt like he was the punchline of some sick joke. Whatever you were doing to him was messing with his head, and he couldn’t seem to figure out if there was any genuinity in your actions. Sure, you two shared a fraction of a moment when you started breaking down over the plastic baby, but it was almost immediately shattered by your frivolous question.
From being the pathetic college student who pined after you for years to becoming the object of your every desire, Mark was quite confused. He was questioning every single word that slipped from your lips, every action that threw him in for a loop. It was painstakingly miserable.
“I don’t wanna get laid like that.” Mark scowled. “Especially not with our baby crying every other minute.”
Chenle’s eyes widened, and he stopped dribbling the ball after Mark threw it to him, choosing to tuck it under his arm. “Whoa. Sounds like you’re not very happy.”
“Great observation, Chenle. Maybe psychology’s up your alley if statistics doesn’t work out.”
Chenle chose to ignore the jab and pointed out, “You don’t normally argue back like this.”
“We should start calling you Sherlock.”
“Dude, you’re mad.”
“I’m telling you she’s crazy, not—”
“No, Mark, you’re mad,” Chenle repeated. “You’re angry. I’ve never seen you heated before. You usually just take whatever comes at you, or you just laugh these things off.”
Mark sighed heavily. “I guess parenting takes a lot out of a person.”
“Maybe this is a good thing,” Chenle tried. “Maybe now you’ll get over your weird obsession with Y/N.”
“I don’t have a weird obsession with—”
Mark felt a firm hand on his shoulder, and he turned to see Johnny Suh standing right behind him. The basketball team captain’s eyebrows were raised.
“Trust me, dude,” he said, “you do have a weird obsession.”
Mark spluttered, offended. “Does everyone think this?”
He looked around to see most of the basketball team members nodding in agreement, but they looked away and got back to their drills as soon as Mark made eye contact with a few of them. Mark had never felt so distressed in his life, not even when Jisung’s stupid cat ate his pet goldfish last year.
“Mark!” a voice echoed from the entrance of the gym. His head whipped around to see you sauntering over with Frisk in a baby carrier. “You’re taking the baby home today, right? I’m going to the gym for an hour.”
Mark felt like an idiot for fixating on the way your gym shorts hugged your thighs deliciously. He could only think of how he would just tear them off if no one else was around. Maybe he could have you ride his thigh—
Actually, before that, Mark needed to move past first base with you. It was difficult getting more than five minutes together when parenting duties arose.
He was starting to see why everyone thought he had a weird obsession.
“Uh, yeah,” he stammered out while taking Frisk from your arms. “I’ll take her home after practice ends.”
“Alright, thanks,” you replied, getting on your toes to peck Mark’s lips gently before turning on your heels. “Bye, babe.”
“Dude, she’s insane,” Chenle said in awe as he watched you head out of the gym.
“Insane,” Mark affirmed, “and so fucking hot.”
Tumblr media
Later in the day, when you had finally put Frisk to sleep, Mark decided to bring up what you did in front of the entire basketball team. It had been on his mind all day; not because you kissed him but because you kissed him in front of his friends. Screwing around privately was much different from being affectionate in public.
“That was quite the stunt you pulled earlier,” he mentioned. When you responded with a questioning hum, he clarified, “Kissing me in front of the entire team.”
You were preoccupied with your reflection in the hallway mirror, messing with your hair to see what looked better. Mark was trying not to ogle so openly at the gym shorts that you were still wearing. He was almost starting to feel guilty for thinking such dirty thoughts.
“Oh, well, I saw the way you were looking at me,” you said, “so I just did it.”
“Looking at you?” he asked thoughtlessly, and then he only realized you had turned around because he couldn’t stare at your ass anymore. Now he had been caught and shame was burning on his face. “Uh, sorry, I was just—”
“You’re looking again,” you observed.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just—”
“You don’t have to apologize, Mark.” You walked over and straddled his thighs, as far back as possible so that you were sitting more on his knees. This was bad; Mark was going to get a boner if you kept this up. “You can just make it up to me.”
“I got a really big, um…”
You smiled in that coy way that made all the blood rush to Mark’s cock, painfully tenting his pants in the most uncomfortable way. “Got a really big what?”
He swallowed thickly. “Problem.”
“Need any help with that?”
Mark let out a happy sigh and his words spilled out faster than he could even process them. “Haven’t even taken you out for dinner yet.”
“Mark.”
“It’s the principle of the matter. I mean, I guess I made you ramen the other night. That has to count for something, right?”
“Mark.”
“No, that can’t count for anything. I have to actually pay for a proper dinner at a proper restaurant with—”
“Mark!” you exclaimed once again, and he snapped out of his ramblings to look down at you. All the blood was rushing to his cock when he watched you slowly lower down to your knees. In a softer voice, you asked, “Do you need any help or not?”
“Please.”
His voice came out with an edge of desperation. Mark didn’t know he had it in him to beg like that, and it would have embarrassed him if he wasn’t already yearning for you. While you didn’t directly tease him, the little curl of your lips made Mark’s face feel hot.
Your fingers slid past his waistband, and you started tugging at his pants with one hand while the other worked on his zipper. Mark rushed to help you, unable to contain how eager he was to feel your pretty lips around his throbbing cock. It was almost painful how he ached for you.
All he wanted was for Frisk to shut the fuck up for ten minutes—just ten minutes—so that he could receive the head of his life. Mark made a silent prayer that the robot baby wouldn’t start crying for milk and interrupt the moment like it always did.
Once you and Mark finally managed to yank his pants and boxers down to his ankles, you knelt back down and stared at Mark’s cock, watching it twitch sporadically. At first, he worried that you were underwhelmed by the size—maybe even having second thoughts on giving him a blowjob.
It was when he noticed your shy body language when he decided to ask, “Everything okay?”
“You’re so fucking huge,” you said after a moment of hesitation. “Like, I’m almost worried I won’t be able to take it all.”
Sometimes, Mark truly couldn’t tell if you were real or some sort of manifestation of his every desire and fantasy.
He started to lean toward the latter after he watched you lean forward to spit on the head of his cock, moving your hand up and down his shaft to lubricate him.
With a few experimental kitten licks to the head of his cock, you wound up taking his head into your mouth. Mark let out a groan immediately, internally begging you to just stop teasing and take the rest of him in. His cock was nearly throbbing from all the teasing. If you ever decided to really edge him, he would be a goner.
“Y/N, please,” he mumbled, cupping your cheek with his hand to urge you to take in more.
Your soft lips, painted cherry red, moved down on his cock. Mark couldn’t even think straight as you swirled your tongue around his length, taking your time along his thick veins. A breathless laugh escaped his lips; he was desperate—needing more.
Mark’s face was pinched in pleasure, trying to conceal the deep groans that dared escape his throat. He ended up giving in, though, because your tongue snaking around his girth was almost too much for him to handle. Then, you started to speed up, which Mark suspected was encouraged by his moans.
It felt as though the walls were crashing around him, so Mark stood up, leaving you perplexed and looking up at him with his cock still in your mouth. Somewhere between that, he managed to kick his jeans and boxers off his ankles completely. You were still bobbing your head back and forth, and the sight was breathtaking.
So, Mark did the only thing he could think of, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair at the back of your head and started bucking his hips into your mouth.
You let out a muffled cry, although it was clear you were enjoying Mark taking charge by the way you gripped his thighs and hollowed your cheeks out. There was a fire burning in Mark that he had never ignited before—something that woke him up, or woke something in him up.
“Yeah? You like that?” he taunted. Mark never expected such filthy words to come from his mouth, but he couldn’t help himself. “You’re such a good girl for me.”
Heat prickled his skin, and Mark had never had someone get him off, but he was sure this was it. Countless nights of beating off couldn’t compare to this moment—not when it was you, on your knees, looking up at him with those hazy, glazed-over eyes. Mark ran his thumb over your lip, smudging your lipstick further, and then it was all over for him.
Tiny shocks of pleasure coursed up his spine, and before Mark knew it, he was cumming in your mouth with zero warning. The feeling was so intense, all at once, and then it started subsiding. Aftershocks of pleasure came in waves, but Mark was so drunk on the feeling. He probably should have mentioned his incoming orgasm to you, but now he couldn’t even think properly as he watched you swallow down his load.
You stayed on your knees, keeping your gaze fixed on him as you pulled your lips off his cock.
Mark groaned at the sight. “Fuck,” was all he could muster before he knelt down and reconnected his lips with yours in a rushed kiss.
Dizzy. Hot. Frenzied. Mark felt like his surroundings had melted away, and the world was just you and him. He pulled you up to your feet, keeping his palms on your cheeks, and moved you carefully to his bedroom.
You pulled away to take off your shirt as you sat at the edge of Mark’s bed. You and Mark had cuddled a few nights on the same mattress, but being able to fuck you was completely different. Even though your dynamic was already strange, sealing the deal like this would change everything.
But Mark wasn’t complaining.
“You know,” he decided to admit as he pulled off his t-shirt, “the guys think I have some sort of weird obsession with you.”
“Well, are you?”
You kicked off your pants, and you were left in a black lingerie set that Mark couldn’t take his eyes off of. The way the fabric hugged your every curve made his brain go haywire. Maybe it was because Mark was a virgin, but he was freaking out and you two hadn’t even gotten started.
In response, Mark nodded. “Yeah, a little.”
You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you. Mark’s lips were slow on yours, lazily slipping into your mouth and licking as he pleased. He sighed happily into your mouth and felt his heartbeat skyrocket when your smile grew against his lips.
This kiss deepened, this time with more fervor, and Mark groaned into your mouth when he felt your nails rake down his back. He spread his slender fingers out to run his hand down the front of your body, shuddering lightly once he was at your stomach. Any lower and Mark would be in dangerous territory.
You pulled away to ask, “Are you nervous?”
“This is my first time,” Mark replied, “and it’s a little scarier doing it with someone who’s more confident than I am.”
“I’m actually pretty nervous, too.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, because I was going to ask you not to fuck me.” You pulled him closer so that you could press a kiss to his jawline. “I want you to make love to me.”
Mark’s jaw went slack at your words. All of a sudden, he wondered if the passage of time moved slower because five seconds of watching you shy away felt like an eternity.
Mark was uncertain. He had always been uncertain of many things in his life. He wasn’t very confident in himself, which was something he was working on. In fact, he was still half-expecting you to walk out on him at any moment.
But Mark was certain of one thing: He liked you a lot, and he wanted to give you anything you wanted.
He leaned down to brush his nose against yours. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.” You grinned before attempting to wriggle out of his grip. “Let me get on top so I can help you, Mark.”
“O-on top?” he stammered, and he wanted to hit himself for sounding so pathetic. It seemed to get a giggle out of you, though, so his worries washed away.
Mark sat back against his pillows. His blushes normally started at his chest before creeping up to his collarbones, so he really hoped you wouldn’t be able to see just how flustered he was. It was impossible to contain when you crawled toward him, though, sitting up on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Condom,” he reminded in a whisper.
“I have the implant.” You held up your arm and pressed down on the fleshy underside. “Wanna feel?”
“Um…”
“Come on, touch it,” you urged. “It’s like X-Men, except my mutation is no fertilization.”
“What if I accidentally turn it off?”
“Pretty sure it doesn’t work like that, Mark.”
Mark allowed you to take his finger and poke the contraceptive in your arm. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but his eyes went wide when he realized how hard it was. He loosened his grip on you so that he held you more gently with careful hands.
“It doesn’t hurt?” he asked, frowning.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” you said with a smile. “Why? Are you worried?”
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said. “I just wanna make you feel good.”
You took Mark’s hand and moved it down to the apex of your thighs, sighing softly when his fingers brushed against your clothed cunt. Mark started with gentle prods before his fingers were nearly clawing to get your thong off. He wanted nothing more than to drown his fingers in your cunt.
He pulled out to undo your bra slowly, moving the straps down your arms first before he snapped the band behind you. A sigh fell from his lips when your bra slid down your body, and he quickly tossed it aside so that he could really look at you.
“Take off your thong,” he mumbled, tugging at the band eagerly.
You raised your hips and Mark helped you remove your last garment, and when you were completely bare in front of him, he was sure he could die a happy man. His fingertips ran down your body, looking at you with perplexed eyes, like he was trying to figure out if you were real or some otherworldly being beyond his imagination.
You lowered onto him slowly, and he tipped his head back and groaned as you did. Mark couldn’t explain how he felt. The squeeze was slightly painful, but feeling you all around his cock was wonderful. His eyes went a little unfocused as he stared at the spot where you two were joined, and Mark found his fingers digging into your hips.
“Jesus, Y/N,” he rasped out. “You feel so fucking good.”
“I can set the pace,” you whimpered out, although you already looked way too caught up in your own pleasure to move. “Just give me a second. You’re so b-big.”
“Then I can do everything for you.”
Mark didn’t hesitate before he grabbed the back of your thighs and flipped you around so that he was suspended over you, using one hand to keep himself up while the other was gripping your hip. The swiftness caused him to bottom out unintentionally, and it left you both gasping and moaning at the deeper penetration.
He started thrusting at a steady pace, breath hitching every time he watched your face twist and contort in pleasure. Mark slipped out a few times and had to regain his rhythm afterward, but soon he was starting to get the hang of it. The feeling was phenomenal; he felt like he was breathing in stars that exploded into little supernovas in his head. And it was even harder to keep his composure when you looked so fucked-out underneath him.
Mark’s hand flew up to grip the headboard, and he laughed a little breathlessly because this was what he dreamt of for years. This was the very image of his wet dreams of you, and it was unraveling right before him. Those fantasies, though, couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing.
Neither of you were much of talkers—just far too lost in each other’s bodies to do anything but moan and whine. When your legs wrapped around his waist, Mark felt impossibly deeper inside of you. Each thrust felt like an electric current running under his skin. The buildup of pleasure was making him feel hotter and hotter until he felt like he would explode.
Mark had never been into spirituality, but he truly felt like he had ascended to some higher plane when his nerve endings met rapture and he came inside you. The release left him breathing hard, almost stuttering to a stop before he realized that you still needed to cum, and he sped up again to get you to your orgasm. Still, he was slow enough that you could feel his thrusts deep inside of you. Right where you needed him.
“Mark,” you breathed out, but no other words were forming on your lips. You reached out without any sense of direction, so Mark lowered his head to kiss you with more assurance than he had ever felt in his life.
One hand on the headboard, one fighting down your hips, and his body pressed flush against yours as he made love to you. Mark admitted that he had gotten a little carried away at first, but now he wanted to go as slow as you needed.
“T-that’s it,” you gasped out. “Right there.”
You arched your spine, and Mark held the small of your back to keep you there while you fell into your orgasm. He fucked you through your orgasm, sparing your lips for the time being and showing your neck some love so that he could hear your delightful moans. He made sure that you were able to ride your high out for as long as possible, releasing his grip from the headboard so that he could rub your clit in small, precise circles.
The room soon fell silent, and Mark just watched your chest rise and fall with a small smile. He tucked your loose strands of hair behind your ear and leaned in for another kiss.
And, since the universe wanted Mark to be miserable, Frisk started crying again. Her mechanical wails were heard in the distance.
Mark let his head drop, burying it in the crook of your neck before he sighed heavily. Then, he rose up again to gather his garments from the floor. You did the same with great reluctance, and this was probably the first time Mark had seen you so frustrated to deal with Frisk. There was unspoken tension in the air, but you both knew your project grade had to be dealt with first. Aftercare could come later.
“I’ll get the baby,” he muttered.
Just as miserable as he was, you nodded in understanding. “I’ll get a clean diaper.”
As Mark was walking down his hallway, he froze dead in his tracks and his eyes widened.
“Wait,” he announced, and he was confident the stars aligned and constellations formed for this pivotal moment, “I found the clit.”
Tumblr media
On a Friday night, Mark decided to take you to get ice cream instead of going home straight after basketball practice. It had been a rough week, so he figured you two needed a break. Frisk had been crying nonstop all night, and it was causing you both to lose sleep. It had gotten to the point where Mark’s eye bags were so dark that it looked as if someone had punched him on both sides of his face.
“What’s your favorite flavor?” he asked, hands in his pockets as he firmly held onto his phone. He needed to pull it out as fast as he could before you tried to pay for the ice cream. Thankfully, Mark was quick with Apple Pay.
“Mint chocolate chip,” you said. “You?”
Mark’s nose scrunched up at the thought of eating mint chocolate chip ice cream willingly. “Mine’s cookies and cream.”
“Why are you making that face?”
“Because mint chocolate chip is terrible.”
“No, it’s not!” you argued. “Cookies and cream is literally the most basic flavor.”
“Well, at least it actually tastes good. Can’t really say the same for your dairy toothpaste.”
Thankfully, you were so adamant on defending your low quality ice cream flavor that Mark was able to pay for your ice creams without you noticing. The cashier even chuckled at the banter that kept going back and forth, not even stopping when Mark whipped out his phone to pay for the two cups.
“We literally have nothing in common,” you continued bickering, not ceasing even when you and Mark got a table outside. “I hate basketball, I don’t like gaming—and those are pretty much the top two things you love!”
“I thought you played Earthbound.”
“I did, but that’s different. You play first person shooter, not RPGs.”
Mark shrugged. “That’s fine. I don’t like shopping or watching Single’s Inferno, so I don’t expect you to like basketball or gaming.”
“But what do we talk about then?” You sighed. “We have absolutely no common interests to talk about.”
“We’re talking fine right now, aren’t we?” He paused to wipe the smear of ice cream off your bottom lip with his thumb, and then proceeded to lick it clean himself since there were no napkins nearby. “You had a little something.”
“Oh, thanks,” you replied, blinking several times before you snapped back into reality. “Are we talking fine? We were just arguing over ice cream flavors.”
“I’m not having a bad time, though,” he said with a shrug, scooping some ice cream into his mouth. “I liked you even when I knew jack shit about you.”
“You did? Since when?”
“Uh…” Mark was sure his cheeks had gone bright red. “Like, one or six years ago?”
“One or six?” you asked, eyes wide as saucers. “That’s a very big timeframe.” You were deep in thought as you ate your ice cream, pondering on his words before asking, “So, like, high school, right?”
Mark nodded shyly. “Around then—yeah.”
You laughed, and Mark’s face grew hotter from embarrassment. It was like he was being made fun of, like you thought his feelings were some spectacle to laugh at. Maybe you were going to say he was “cute” for feeling that way or something, and that was probably worse.
But Mark pushed the discomfort down. He tried to believe that you were just so surprised that you couldn’t help but laugh. It didn’t matter, anyway; you two were mostly good now.
“Yo,” you said, frowning as your eyes unfocused. “I feel like we’re forgetting something.”
Mark chewed on that thought for a moment before he frantically leapt to his feet. Panic bubbled in his chest when he realized what—or who—exactly they were missing.
“The fucking baby’s still in the car.”
Tumblr media
Mark had not ever felt such intense parental fear in his life.
Well, he supposed he hadn’t felt parental fear ever, actually. Not until he realized he left his robot baby (which happened to be 45% of his grade) in his car. Three spine-chilling minutes that made Mark question whether he was even any good at being a dad.
But, when Mark looked over to see how panicked you looked, he realized that you both had something in common. The two of you looked absolutely crazy, sprinting to the parking lot in a desperate attempt to get to their robot baby.
Honestly, Mark felt like his life wouldn’t be as fun without a little crazy.
It was a few days after the car incident when Mark decided to take matters into his own hands. So what if you two had no common hobbies? That didn’t mean you had absolutely nothing in common. He concluded that if he couldn’t find something for you both to enjoy, then he would just do all of your favorite things until something stuck.
That was how he ended up dragging a planter box into his apartment. He had gotten it off Facebook Marketplace for a cheap price after two entire days of stalking the listings. Mark had to drive about fifteen miles to pick it up, so he hoped you would like it.
You looked up from the child development textbook you were reading with inquisitive eyes. Mark was a heaving mess from having to lug the planter box from his car. You set your book down and got up to see why Mark was lingering in the entryway.
“What’s that?” you asked.
He probably looked painfully awkward as he tried to carry the oblong planter box. Mark struggled for a moment before giving up and setting it on the ground, right in the middle of the living room. His mother would have scolded him for getting dirt on his floor so recklessly, so he made a mental note to vacuum later.
“We have nothing in common,” he said.
“Yes, I think we’ve already gone over that.”
“Yeah, but you’re living here. I’m not gonna make you miserable with all my gaming and basketball talk all the time.” Mark gestured to the planter box. “Since you like gardening, I figured you could at least be entertained by this.”
You didn’t respond for a moment, so Mark continued, “Or, uh… you could teach me about plants and stuff,” he tried, but his heart was hammering in his chest. Was he fucking up already? Maybe you didn’t even like gardening anymore and this was all for nothing. “Sorry, I can return—”
“How’d you know I liked gardening?” you cut in to ask.
Mark blanched. “Um… you mentioned it during your introduction in AP Lit. You told the class you liked gardening, so I just assumed you would still be into it… I don’t know.”
“You remember that?”
“Yeah, I do.”
He wasn’t sure if his eyes were just playing tricks on him, but he swore the sun shone brighter when you smiled. Golden rays of light streamed into the room when your face broke into a wide grin, and Mark could see leftover traces of sun in your eyes. So warm and happy that he felt his soul light up.
“Come on,” you said, reaching forward to grab Mark’s hand and lace your fingers with his. “I’ll show you how to grow some flowers. Which ones did you get?”
Mark checked the packet and flipped it over for you to see. “Sunflowers.”
Tumblr media
Parenting was hard.
Almost an entire month of being a father, and the only thing Mark gathered was that parenting was pretty fucking hard.
So, naturally, Mark had to explode eventually. There was only so much a man could stand. From having to wake up multiple times throughout the night, spend basketball practices babysitting, and change diapers between classes, Mark was certain he would suffocate under the pressure of parenting.
And he was anxious.
Anxious about the project. Anxious about Frisk. Anxious about you.
Mark truly couldn’t get a read on you; it was almost impossible to tell if he had peeled back every single layer of yours, or if there were some still left. There were days where he thought you were truly into him, and then there were days where Mark couldn’t gauge where you were at. He felt like he had fallen for someone who wouldn’t ever take him seriously.
That was how he ended up arguing with you in the living room. At this point, Mark was going to have to go to Dr. Han’s office hours because why the hell was the baby allowed to wake them up at four in the morning? He was far too tired to think straight, but Mark’s tired, irritable state left him vulnerable and ready to start an argument.
“See, if you didn’t decide to move in on your own—which you never even asked me for permission, by the way—then we wouldn’t be in this situation right now,” Mark said, tugging a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh. “I really don’t understand what you were thinking.”
“I was thinking that a mom and a dad should—”
“We’re not actual parents, Y/N!” he yelled. “I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but this is literally a group project! We aren’t even a real couple!”
You stiffened. “Okay, whatever. That doesn’t change the fact that it isn’t easier to take care of Frisk when we’re together.”
Mark stood up and walked toward you. “How is it easier? Give me one example.” He stared at you wordlessly while you were finding the words to argue back, but you stayed quiet. “Neither of us can get a good night’s sleep because Frisk wakes up crying every single night. If you stayed at your apartment, then we could’ve switched off.”
“If you don’t want me to stay here that badly, then you can just tell me to go home instead of making me feel like shit,” you muttered.
“I make you feel like shit? You make me feel like shit, Y/N!” Mark replied, exasperated. “You’re constantly making these comments about how you want me, but none of it feels sincere! It’s like you enjoy playing these… these mind games with me.”
“Mark, we’re both tired. Let’s talk about this another time.”
You started walking away, but Mark was on your heels. He knew that if he didn’t get closure for this conversation, then he probably wouldn’t get the chance to talk to you about this again.
“I really wanna talk about this now, though,” Mark pleaded. “Come on, I know you’re messing with my head so just—”
You stopped in your tracks to turn on Mark, venom in your words as you spat, “Listen, why are you so fucking insecure that you’re so set on making me seem like the bad guy here? It’s always ‘you’re messing with me’ and ‘you don’t take me seriously’ while leaving zero room for the fact that shit, Mark, maybe I genuinely like you!”
Shame bubbled under Mark’s skin like boiling magma, hiccuping spurts of lava that threatened to make him go red in the face. You had a point; he had been spinning everything on you, which was the single worst thing he could do as a man. As a friend. Whatever you two were considered, Mark hadn’t been treating you right, but he still hated the doubt that kept rising in his chest.
It had all been too fast for him.
“I know,” he started softly, grabbing your hands so gently, as if they would shatter like glass. “I know, and I’m sorry. I just—it’s hard for me to understand why you want me when you—”
You threw your head back and forced out a laugh, and Mark thought you were going crazy until he realized your exasperation had just boiled over into hysteria. You seemed lost for a moment, just staring up at him with a pained look in your eyes.  
“Why does anyone need a reason to like someone?” you asked. “That’s the whole point, Mark. You’re not supposed to understand why you’re feeling the way you are. The same goes for you. I mean, hell, you wanted me when I was still dating Vernon.”
Mark didn’t know what to say, so he just gawked at you until you continued, “Now, let me ask you the real question here: do you actually like me, or did you just like the idea of me?”
Mark realized he had put you on a pedestal this entire time. From the beginning, he had never truly liked you; he just liked the idea of you—the version of you he fabricated in his head. After spending so much time with you over the past few weeks, he had gotten to know the real you, and it was a stark difference from the person he thought you were.
In short, you were absolutely crazy. You were sort of a mess, didn’t think before you spoke, and it seemed as though you acted upon every impulsive thought you had. Mark was quite terrified of you sometimes, if he had to be perfectly honest. He had never seen or met a woman as brazen as you were.
And yet, he liked you.
Mark liked you so much more than he liked the girl he thought you were.
He liked you, who spoke her mind so shamelessly, not thinking about the consequences of her actions until it was too late. The you that was so outspoken, so unapologetic. Mark adored every little flaw of yours that got on his nerves and drove him mad, and he liked you so much that he preferred the you he had seen now, as opposed to who he thought you were before.
But now, as you stared at him, expecting an answer, he really didn’t know how to express what he was feeling into words. All Mark could do was look at you helplessly, shaking his head because he needed you to know that he didn’t just like the thought of having you.
“Alright, then,” you whispered, clearly upset. You sucked in a sharp breath and then straightened up, looking right into his eyes. “Your name’s Mark. You have an older brother who also went to our high school. You’re from Toronto, Canada, but you’re not a big fan of maple syrup or ice hockey. You like watermelon, though, and you’re also pretty good with a guitar. You aren’t sure about what you wanna be when you grow up, but you like playing basketball, so you’re gonna stick with that for as long as you’re interested.”
Mark’s jaw nearly went slack. He had pieced it together while you spoke, but the answer was just too incomprehensible for him. There was no way you remembered his AP Literature introduction, too.
“What else?” you continued. “Oh, right. You wore that colorblock sweater nearly every day; you played the piano in the band room whenever you and your friends were in there for lunch; and you would always wait behind if someone had to stop and tie their shoes. Oh, and I remember when you wore your shorts the wrong way during P.E. that one time. Everyone laughed at you, even the teacher, but you weren’t even embarrassed. You just laughed it off.”
“I liked you, too, you idiot,” you finished. You stammered for a moment before correcting yourself, “Like—like you.”
There was a long minute of silence with Mark just trying to wrap his head around what you had just unloaded in front of him. With great hesitance, he asked, “When I told you that I liked you in high school and you laughed, was that just because you realized we felt the same way?”
Slowly, the flickering anger across your face fell apart, and your realization that dawned upon you was more sad than shocking. Mark had always felt insecure around you, but now he was truly terrified that he had been misreading you this entire time.
“Did you think I was laughing at your feelings?” you asked. The ice in your stare was quickly replaced with an apologetic gaze. “I’m so sorry, Mark. I really didn’t mean to. I just thought it was funny because we both felt the same way. I was just—”
“No, I’m sorry,” he corrected. “I was jumping to conclusions because I was so insecure. I didn’t think a girl like you could ever like a guy like me.”
“A guy like you?” You frowned, and then you reached forward to cup his face. “Mark, why do you think so little of yourself? I told you, any girl would kill to be in my shoes.”
Mark looked at you—looked at you with all the stars of the universe in his eyes. “I don’t want any girl, Y/N. I want you,” he confessed. “I like you more than I thought I did.” He shook his head and added, “I mean, I liked you before the project, but I had no idea what kind of person you were. I’m saying I like you a lot more now that I know you better.”
A smile stretched across your face, and Mark wondered if you knew just how beautiful you looked when your eyes crinkled at the corners.
“I like you, too,” was all you said, and it was all he needed to hear.
Tumblr media
Today marked the end of the marriage and baby project.
It was a little bittersweet, although Mark thought it was odd that he had spent a month taking care of Frisk only to flip the doll over and power it off. He pretended it was more sentimental than it felt, but he was honestly glad to be done with the project. It taught him a lot, but Mark was not going to miss being woken up in the middle of the night.
You, on the other hand, seemed the most upset when you were handing in your final report. You even held onto Frisk a little longer before giving her away, watching her be piled on top of the other robot babies with sad eyes.
“Would anyone like to share what they learned over this past month?” Dr. Han asked the class. “It can be a simple observation or you can pull something from your write-up.”
Mark didn’t even feel like he was in total control of his body when his hand flew up. He didn’t even want to share his thoughts with the class. But the words were already in his head, not even budging from his memory when most of the heads in the room turned to face him.
“I can go,” he offered, sparing you a quick, nervous glance before standing up.
“Parenting is hard,” Mark started, so matter-of-factly that the class erupted into laughter. He waited for the room to simmer down before continuing, “I felt like an unfit father most of the time. Actually, an unfit husband.” This got a few more chuckles out of his classmates. “Taking care of Frisk felt like a chore. I wanted to split up the tasks with Y/N, but she always insisted on doing things together. We argued a lot because I felt like it was a waste of both our times, but she was right. Parenting isn’t about finding the easy way out.”
Dr. Han nodded with a hum of approval. “You’re right, Mark, parenting is—”
“And,” Mark kept going, “you can’t be a good parent if you can’t be a good partner. It’s sort of like, uh, gardening; you can’t just focus on one flower and let the others around it die. You have to cover all the bases.”
“That’s great, Mark,” Dr. Han said. “You and Y/N still get a C, though.”
Mark let his shoulders drop, disappointed. “Man.”
Mark walked back to his row and slumped in his seat, defeated. You were hiding your smile, nudging his shoulder to let him know that you acknowledged his speech.
The reality of the situation was that you and Mark were called into Dr. Han’s office last week. She initially said something vague about needing to talk to you two about the project, but then she brought up concerns about Frisk’s health. Apparently, she noted the change in temperature while Frisk was locked in the car, which was “a very dangerous situation to put a child in.” Dr. Han also didn’t care for Mark’s explanation that Frisk should have cried as soon as she realized her parents were leaving without her.
Normally, you two would’ve failed the project, but since your reports and final paper were so detailed and you and Mark went the extra mile of living together, Dr. Han decided to take pity on you two. The best she could give you was a C, which Mark didn’t mind considering he half-despised that stupid robot baby.
(He sort of missed her, though.)
“Nice try,” you whispered with a playful smile, “but it’s okay. I give you an A in my heart. Maybe extra credit for the gardening analogy.”
Mark flushed a little. “Thanks, I guess.” He looked over at the stack of papers on Dr. Han’s desk, and then he tuned in for a bit of her concluding statements about the marriage and baby project. “So what does this mean for us?”
Under the desk, you reached over to grip Mark’s hand. He squeezed back and then looked over his shoulder to see an easygoing grin on your face. You shrugged your shoulders and leaned back in your seat.
“I guess we can stop being fake husband and wife,” you said, “and we can start being a real couple.”
Mark snickered, quite pleased with your response as he turned back to face the front of the room.
“Yeah,” he mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. “I like the sound of that.”
Tumblr media
Mark was always nervous before games, but even more so today.
Not only was it the first home game of the season, but he hadn’t exactly been in prime condition ever since he started dating you. He was pretty sure half of his stamina was spent on you during nights, and then he was just sluggish during the day. Since you had finally moved back to your own apartment, he thought he would start seeing you less, but it was quite the opposite; you still came back almost every  night. (Not that you lived very far, anyway.)
He was currently in the locker room changing into his jersey. The rest of his teammates were filling up their water bottles outside the court, and Mark told them he’d catch up with them later.
“Hey there, tiger,” an all too familiar voice called from the doorway.
Mark whipped his head around to see you standing there in one of his jerseys, which he suspected you stole from his closet. He had to admit it looked way better on you than it did on him, and he couldn’t get enough. One of his secret desires had to be seeing you in his uniform, as oversized as it looked on your figure.
Just seeing you there put his nerves at ease.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, a happy grin lighting up his face. “I thought you hated basketball games.”
“I do,” you whined. You walked over and pulled your boyfriend in for a hug. “I like you, though.”
“Wow,” he breathed out. “This means everything to me, Y/N. You have no idea.”
You giggled. “Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I distracted you a little before your game?”
“I—I don’t know, I…” Mark floundered for words before he caved with a sigh. “Fine.”
You immediately started nipping at Mark’s neck, grabbing fistfuls of the front of his shirt as he let out an appreciative sigh. If he wasn’t careful, he was sure to get carried away, and God knew how badly that would end with his game starting anytime soon.
Just before Mark was about to let a groan slip, though, he heard loud clapping followed by the sound of his teammates singing the happy birthday song.
This wasn’t happening.
Mark pulled away from you to look in the direction of the music. Surely enough, his entire team was walking in with Chenle and Johnny leading them at the front.
“Happy birthday to you,” they all sang in broken unison, “happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Mark Lee—”
“What the fuck?” Mark cut in, and he pushed your hands down when he noticed you were clapping and singing along, too. “You know it’s not my birthday!”
“—happy birthday to you!”
They finished their song with a chorus of cheers and laughs. Mark’s face heated up. Maybe he deserved this. Maybe this was karma for walking in on both Johnny and Jaehyun in the past.
Jungwoo emerged from the middle of the group, holding a cake that read: Congrats you are no longer a VIRGIN.
(It was important to note that the word “virgin” was in uppercase.)
Tasteful.
“Good job, Mark.” Chenle patted his back firmly before turning to his girlfriend. “And thank you, Y/N.”
You gave him a thumbs up before trying some of the frosting on the cake. “Ooh, it’s vanilla.”
Mark was sure his face was red as a tomato. “You guys suck.” He scrunched up his nose when Johnny urged him to try some of the cake, but he ended up complying and taking a bite from the slice he was holding. “I’ll admit the cake’s good, though.”
Johnny laughed before he raised his voice to announce, “Alright, we’re playing soon, so let’s wrap this up and bully him later.”
Chatter rose from the team again, and they all started filing into the gym. Mark hung back to let out a groan and bury his face in your chest.
“It was a good cake,” you tried, carding your fingers through his hair.
“Good cake,” he agreed. “A little wordy, though. They could’ve just written ‘virgin’ and crossed it out.”
“You can do that for my cake,” you suggested. “My born again virgin cake.”
Mark let out a sound that was between a groan and a laugh. He really couldn’t get enough of you, even when you were making fun of him. Despite how many times you both agreed on having absolutely nothing in common, it was surprisingly easy to talk to you.
After an entire month of all the pain and suffering that came with taking care of Frisk, he came to the conclusion that maybe parenting really was a gift. Even if that gift happened to be wrapped with barbed wire.
So maybe Mark Lee had terrible luck, but one thing was for sure: he really hit the jackpot with you.
Tumblr media
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ if you made it all the way to the end i will kiss your cheeks!!! thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed the marriage and baby project ♡ at first i meant for this to be way more romcom but it got a tiny bit angsty unexpectedly :’) basically mark crushing on reader slowly turning into mark falling in love with the reader for who she is because <33 mark lee <33 
FIC TAG LIST ▸ @brightestmark​ @stargrll13​ @kittydollzz​ @chardonnayyyy​ @newdeobi​ @nctevia​ @aeminju​ @ismileeprnc-responder​ @fandomstuff17​ @acidwon​ @caterpillarcookie​ @s1uthub​ @daegalfangirl​ @tmtxtf​ @meloncremesoda​ @anniebyanto​ @tamtamdean​ @rbf-aceu​ @127hyucks​ @aliceinwhateverland​ @friseealamode​ @jeonnyread​ @hoseokteardrop​ @hyuckdreams​ @sunnybutcloudy​ @4everhyucks​ @kpopwh0r3​ @songchan​ @kayleeshinee​ @carelessshootanonymous​ @seizuban​ @jjaeyoonoh​ @beomyomom​ @ghouerry​ @haechology​ @xuimhao​ @hyunniebuns​ @1996isouryear​ @slvrstrs​ @straykidswhoo789​ @markaeong​ @axmdocs​ @matchahyuck​ @1-800-milflvr​ @byunbaekcult​ 
SERIES TAG LIST ▸ @papiiimark @jaehy9ngs @chanluster @jjhmk @marksflute @superhajimark @jeongyoonohs @marklexleaf @dnylwoo @kpop-bambi @miyrisa @jjikyuu @venesiun @seventeeneration @chenosaurus16 @kylomeyon @infnteen @ohmarkly  @weish5n @thejeongjaehyun​ @lovesjenmoong​ @infnteen​ @wownajaemin​ @haruharux23 @pewpewpwe00 @scxrlettkx @pckeia @keijikunn @sapiowoman28 @atiny-doodles @loki-in-hogwarts @baekhyuns-lipchain @repjaehyn @chan-s-laptop @jen0zen @michplusb @yutassecrettime @minkis-simp​ @dreamyyang​ @catscoffeeandkpop​ @ahgastayzen​ @ryu-naa​ @i-kai​ @liliansun​
Tumblr media
BONUS ▸ 
“I got here as fast as I could,” you said, trying to catch your breath through your words. “It actually happened?”
“Yeah, look.” Mark placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you to his small balcony, gesturing to the golden flowers atop their tall stalks. “The sunflowers finally bloomed.”
4K notes · View notes
ofjunemoment · 10 months
Text
work it | na jaemin
Tumblr media
Jaemin can’t quite keep a part time job; every time he gets hired, he somehow fucks up enough to be fired straight away. But he just can’t get fired from his job with you, not until he successfully asks you out on a date, anyway.
OR: How many times can your cover Jaemin’s mistakes before you blow up, or him. 
pairing — jaemin x fem!reader
genre — restaurant!au, slowburn, fluff, humour, smut (MDNI)
wc — 20k 
content — profanity, both jaemin and reader work at a chinese restaurant, kun, jaehyun, mark and shotaro mentioned, waitressing dynamics (im gonna be honest most of this is just me throwing words together and hoping for the best), smut tags below the cut :)
a/n —  *sniff* my baby.... i loved writing this so much because the dynamics is something i truly enjoy ^^ there were times i wanted to strngle myself because i just couldn’t think of how to but the scenarios into words but here it is <3 hope you guys have fun reading!!!! 
smut tags — making out, boob/nipple play, fingering, pet names, just the slightest bit of a dom/sub dynamic, lmk if i missed anything <3
Tumblr media
Jaemin is in the back room of the pet store, looking at a big bag of dog food and a laminated paper with the number of servings needed for each pet section when he hears his boss call for him.
“Jaemin? You doing okay here?” He turns around to look at Mr Choi, showing a light smile and a thumbs up.
“All good sir, just trying to familiarise myself with each serving of the pet food before I try feeding them.” He waves the card around, the lanyard attached to it swishing around. Today was his third time coming in with a shift at the pet store, and although the place isn’t near his house, it wasn’t far from his campus either, which ultimately makes his travel easier. If he can go all this way to a lecture he won’t even remember, he can go again and again to make some cash and help his sobbing wallet.
Mr Choi grins, plump fingers clapping together in delight. “I knew I could trust you. You’ve worked in so many places so you must have adapted quicker.” At this, Jaemin’s smile strains a bit as he lays his hand on one of the food packets to seem normal. He’s not wrong, Mr Choi— Jaemin has worked at a lot of places. He started when he was fourteen at his uncle's small business in the night markets, looking after keychains and phone cases while his uncle would try to sell items with his marketing voice. His task was to answer customers when they asked for the price, and to find out the price he just had to remember the prices — and if he was really struggling, his uncle quips, you can look behind each sections name tag, where the prices are written in vibrant red.
But he was confident with the prices, who would forget that the key chains cost 500 won and the cases cost 1000 won?
Of course he wouldn’t forget, but he wasn’t correct either. The five and fifteen behind those items were actually 5,000 won and 10,000 won. And throughout the entire day when he would receive coins instead of the colourful notes his uncle was collecting, he didn’t even question it; he just thought his uncle was a top-tier marketer. Needless to say, he was ‘fired’ (he’s not sure if he was even supposed to be paid for his labour) and his parents took out the money he credited to his uncle from his savings.
You would think that the brutal action of taking someone's hard-earned pocket money would deter them from trying another job again until they were fully prepared to take on such professionalism. But Jaemin was devastated at the fact that he had lost his chore money while sitting down on a plastic stool in the hot summer's night market. And so he tried to get another job to attain back the money.
At age fifteen, for his birthday present, he had asked for a job opportunity from his parents. Reluctantly, they had asked one of their neighbours if they’d like to get their lawn mowed. After seeing Jaemin in the backyard a few times doing the gardening, they weren’t abhorred by the idea of paying him a small fee to clean their lawns. Excited, he set to work with the mowing, which was something he would do, but he didn’t remember if it was the growing bush on his left side or right that he was to avoid at all costs. Turns out it was both, which attained Mrs Choi’s sacred tea sprouts that she’d imported from one of the islands in between Malaysia and Indonesia, and it costs an arm and a leg, he recalls her saying. The horror on her face, when she saw the shaved-down plot of land, was something Jaemin never wishes on his worst enemy and all the while desires to draw frame to frame.
But of course, it didn’t end there. He worked at a convenience store and a local retail store when he was sixteen, but was fired from the first and never received his roster from the latter. He thought that maybe local stores were just too picky with their quality of work due to having to compete against monopoly businesses, and so he opted to turn to chain businesses instead. He worked at McDonald’s and almost deep-fried his instructor's hand when being taught how to work the fries, and barely batted an eye when a few teenagers shoplifted the stores’ display clothes when he was working the chain clothing store at the mall near his house. To his defence, he’d thought that they were his coworkers changing the clothes on display with their casual dress code of the workplace, and so naturally, he didn’t think much of it. His longest-lasting job was at a general retail store he was hired for during Christmas, where he lasted for three weeks due to his supervisor being too busy to catch Jaemin’s mistake.
It’s a miracle really that he’s lasted three solid days at this place, but there isn’t much he can screw up in a pet shop; so far all he’s tasked to do is feed the fishes, as they’re the easiest to feed, and discard the box with hamster and rabbit poop for compost. Surprisingly, they’re both placed in the same corner of the room, but they’re kept in different storage boxes. Jaemin remembers how green means compost, and blue means fish; it makes sense, so he just goes to the blue one and scoops one full scoop into a mini bucket, before going into the store and feeding the fish. With the compost bin, he simply fits it onto a wheeler before going out to the back and dumping it into the designated compost area.
Jaemin sniffles a bit, before placing the laminated poster back on the shelf, checking his watch for the time. “Oh,” He exclaims, “It’s lunchtime for the fishes,” His smile towards his boss might just be pushing it, but it seems like he’s doing a great job at, well, keeping this job; anything resembling ass-kissing, he’ll try. As long as it guarantees a longer stay for him of course.
Mr Choi laughs heartily, sending Jaemin a thumbs up as he slowly filters out of the back room while Jaemin heads to the blue tin. What he misses is how the relief from Mr Choi’s face turns into sheer horror, as he sees Jaemin scoop into the blue tin and drop the pendant-like substances into the fish’s designated feeder.
“Stop!” Jaemin drops the scooper into the tin as his boss yells out, his blood running cold at the sudden shout. “Jaemin..have you been using—” Mr Choi’s eyes widen as he cuts himself off, going back to the store with hurried steps. Jaemin is very confused, as he has his hand midway in the air from Mr Choi’s exclaim, standing in the backroom like an NPC only activated when a main character comes to him for a quest.
But, miraculously, he can move his feet as he hears another shout of— a woman? Or maybe it was just Mr Choi’s sheer…excitement of Jaemin’s dedication to his job? But what he sees when he gets out of the back room and into the main store isn’t a surprise party held for Jaemin and his efforts (okay, he thought that maybe this was all a ploy to just show his new staff some appreciation; he’s still sceptical about the horror in Mr Choi’s voice, can you blame him?). What he’s instead met with is his boss’ and how his hands are clenched on his already thinning scalp — Jaemin winces when he sees a strand slowly descend to the floor— as he skids left and right around the aquariums.
It isn’t until Jaemin takes a closer look and sees that the fishes he thought were sleeping are now, well, permanently sleeping; on the floor of the aquariums, save with a few floating slowly, hanging on for Mr Choi’s happiness or the longevity of Jaemin’s work streak. He later finds out that fish float when sleeping.
“Jaemin, oh my god— the blue tin is the compost bin, and the green one is the fish food! I’ve told you about this two times, there’s even a fish sign on the green tin, how could you not tell?!” Jaemin might be tripping, but he swears he can see the bald patch on his boss’ head growing steadily.
Of course, now wouldn’t be the best time for him to point out scalp care remedies, and so he settles for the next best thing; “I thought the fish sign meant that they just…smell really bad…” Mr Choi now has his hand splayed across his face before he slowly goes to rub at his eyes, and nose bridge next, probably preventing a stress-induced nosebleed.
He points towards the front of the store, where the counter sits next to the door, finger jabbing up and down. Jaemin takes this as a sign to get some tissues from behind the counter, or his boss’ water bottle that always seems to have unlimited tea; but before he can even get back to him, with his eyes still close, in the softest tone Mr Choi says “... Out.”
Tumblr media
He would’ve stopped his job hunting there, to be honest; but he’s in the last year of his course and is living with a roommate in a separate flat from his parents, which means he has to have at least some money to buy some necessities like groceries, much less pay rent.
He tells this much to Mark when he asks why Jaemin decided to work at a gym straight after working at a pet shop, and also what his resume looks like for people to still be keen to hire someone like him. He completely evades the second question, happily confiding in his friend about the job at a gym he picked up a week after being fired from sending the fishes into a food coma.
(“…Too soon?”
“Yeah, maybe a little bit.”)
And when Mark asks how Jaemin’s day was as a conversation starter, he vulnerably confides in him about losing his job again. This time working at a gym, he was assigned the task of giving out flyers and talking to people about why they would benefit from going to the gym, according to the outline he was provided in this big binder, the corner of the cover peeling off with age. While he was trying to promote the gym and give the discount flyers, he got into a long-winded conversation with this one old man who was talking about how the treadmill ‘fucked his knee up’, which had Jaemin thinking if treadmills existed in the 1980s.
They were five minutes into Jaemin searching the creation of gyms on Naver and the old man scolding him for not listening to a customer even though he was ‘not yet a customer because you haven’t accepted the flyer, now have you?’  when his supervisor comes out and yanks on Jaemin’s ‘employee in training’ lanyard from around his neck. Jaemin wasn’t sure what factor was the tipping point, but Mark thinks it was because he was on his phone during work hours.
“Or maybe the fact that you were stuck talking to someone likely to be the last person to ever sign up to a gym?” Mark is spinning his pen as he says this, looking up from his laptop screen towards Jaemin. Mark doesn’t even write his notes by hand, so it’s truly beyond him why he’s brought a high-class fountain pen to their study session at Jaemin’s, but that should be the last of his worries.
“Actually, they did have yoga and treadmill training for those aged sixty-five and above, so I wasn’t even targeting the wrong market.”
“Are you saying you’ve been wrongfully fired?” Mark sports an amused smile at Jaemin as if he’s laughing along with his joke; but that’s the problem, he wasn’t joking.
“Don’t laugh at my demise,” Jaemin smacks Mark’s arm, and he would feel bad at the wince that the latter lets out if he hadn’t been on the receiving end of his brutal laugh-hitting habit five out of seven times in the past week. Mark slowly halts his laughing fit when he sees Jaemin sulking, suddenly turning soft.
“Alright, you know what, here,” Mark fishes out his wallet as he says this, twisting and turning his bag on Jaemin’s bed. He gives the latter 10,000 won, waving his hand out towards Jaemin’s window. “Go ahead and get some snacks, my treat. And get me the watermelon-flavoured ice cream too?”
Jaemin scoffs. “You’re only doing this because you’re too lazy to get it yourself.” Mark’s smile is sheepish.
“Well, do you have 10,000 won to spare?” That shuts Jaemin up, as he snatches the notes out of Mark’s hand with a glare.
“When I do get 10,000 won, I’m making you eat the note,” Mark’s laugh is nervous as Jaemin marches out.
Tumblr media
The cold hold of the ice cream contrasts the warmth in Jaemin’s hand, as the walk back to his unit proves to be a good remedy for taking a mental break from studying, as he decides to take a long way back; partially because the walk through Central parks is nice, but mainly because he wants Mark’s ice cream to have melted into a gross mush when he gets back.
Walking through the park, the rustle of the plastic bag and the tree branches are the only sounds echoing throughout, with Jaemin swinging his arm leisurely. The park is a circle shapen thread of grass with benches and pathways swirling around it, adorned with a children's playground in one corner, and the park's famous Yoshino cherry tree sitting right in the middle of the whole scene. The walk from the ice cream store back to his unit, the long way, requires Jaemin to walk through the park and the line of stores and restaurants in company with the park’s facilities. For as long as he’s lived here, three out of four of the store slots have been busy with business and traffic; all but one.
Unit store 1279 is infamous for dooming local businesses whenever someone applies for its lease. Jaemin has seen two restaurants and at least three cafes open and close, all with varying reasons for closing; the landlord is a nightmare to deal with, a corner of the store leaks something green but only when no one pays attention, and lastly about how there’s a ghost that lingers near the back door, sending cold shivers down staff and patrons alike when they pass through the door.
Out of all these rumours, Jaemin truly has yet to see one of them be proven true, the landlord was friendly enough to send welcoming flowers when each business would open; and close. He was keen to feel the shiver of the ghost's presence course through his body when he visited two openings ago but to no avail.
However, the reason why he finds the store so intriguing today is related to neither of those rumours; right on the glass door of the supposed vacant spot is an estate-sealed sticker adorned with bold letters spelling out “SOLD”. Not leased, but sold, with just below the official sticker being a recruitment post, a single slip of the business's phone number flapping in the light breeze.
We are looking for part-time staff. Starting rate at 25,000 won per hour. No prior experience is required.
Jaemin shifts from one foot to another as he eyes the piece of A4 paper taped to the door. Isn't this fate? A store opening right near where he lives, willing to accept someone with no experience, and the last slip of number is left? All while Mark’s ice cream is melting in his bag. This is the universe's calling if he knows of any.
Tumblr media
Jaemin paces around the living room while Shotaro sits on the couch, head tilting left and right to the opposite rhythm of Jaemin’s paces as he tries to look past his whizzing figure and to the TV. If Shotaro had even a single mean bone in his body, he would ever so kindly tell Jaemin to stop pacing and maybe instead stand in one place, if he’s comfortable to of course. But as far as Jaemin is aware, he flinches at the sight of a fly, and is much less able to hurt one, so, of course, he doesn’t tell Jaemin to stop obscuring his vision, and instead turns to look at him, ignoring his show.
“Are you okay?” He asks, and Jaemin finally deflates, seeing this as an invitation to rant to his roommate. Plopping himself right next to Shotaro on the three-seated couch, he links their arms together by the elbow, needing something to ground himself.
“I wanna call this place and see if I can get a job, but I don’t know how to go about it; is there such a thing as a verbal resume?”
“You mean, an interview?” Shotaro provides, hand hovering slightly in the air as he contemplates patting Jaemin’s hand in comfort, but not for long as Jaemin separates them with a look of shock on his face.
“So that’s the word I was looking for?” He frowns to himself in contemplation, before sulking right back into Shotaro’s bicep. He doesn’t think they’ve passed the phases required to get this close to his former, but he’s too stressed about fucking up another job, and Shotaro seems to not mind this sort of interaction.
“If you find it so stressful to call them and have a phone interview, why don’t you send them a text?” Jaemin doesn’t know if this is truly coming from the goodness in his heart or if this is just something that everyone knows. Either way, the words put him at ease as he stands from the couch, patting Shotaro on the shoulder in thanks.
“You’re right! They didn’t specify their expectations; they just had phone number slips and a recruitment notice. You’re a genius Shotaro,” To that, the boy flushes with a shy smile on his face, but before Jaemin can hear him say something about how he didn’t do anything, and that he would love to help you even a little bit, Jaemin has headed off to his room and is curating a message to send.
To: +82 10-7854-4793
Hello, My name is Jaemin and I am interested in working in your establishment. When can I come in for an interview?
From: +82 10-7854-4793
Hello Jaemin. We are grateful for your enthusiasm, could you stop by next Thursday at 12 p.m at the Tao Village restaurant? Please bring a copy of your resume and provide a USB of a soft copy of said resume. We look forward to hearing from you.
To: Tao Village HR person (I think)
Yes I am available :) Thank you
Tumblr media
Jaemin was not quite sure what is an appropriate outfit for when you want to be interviewed for a job as a waitress, but Shotaro’s eyes had dimmed just the slightest when he saw Jaemin step out of his room with jeans and a hoodie.
“Is that what you’re gonna wear?” His tone was far from condescending, even with the smile on his face, he looked more like a proud mom, but Jaemin could tell when his roommate may be slightly disappointed with a poor choice, so he had gone back and dressed up in some slacks he had and a polo shirt tucked in. he hopes he doesn’t see people he knows, or worse, Mark, because he knows he wouldn’t hear the end of it.
Now he’s situated in front of the store, the ‘sold’ sticker now nowhere to be seen and a light glow shining through from the glass door, but the sun shinning from outside obscures any other view Jaemin could peak from the inside, as he sees more of his own reflection instead. Hand clasped on a clear folder and a USB with his resume, he pats his head one last time before opening the door and stepping in.
He’s been inside this store a few times over the past few cafes and restaurants, and so he’s not surprised to be met with a whole new interior. On the contrary, he’s quite pleased with the choices that the current owner of the store has made, with the walls now an even slate with ivory-coloured paint instead of the rundown orange brick that the last restaurant had. There are tables and chairs fit for two, and a last one for six people uninformed from left to right, with a counter and a curtain obscuring what he assumes is the kitchen towards the end of the restaurant.
Jaemin was too enamoured with taking in the whole place that he had completely missed the mini counter situated a bit to his left, with you standing behind, confused as to why someone has came in to simply look at the interior design and not, well, the menu.
A clear of your throat startles Jaemin out of his daze, as he looks towards you with the initial look of annoyance before his expression melts.
She’s so pretty. What the fuck? Does she work here? Is this a needed requirement? Maybe Jaemin should’ve topped up with a bit of cologne or something to truly seal his spot, but before he could embarrass himself by very subtly going to smell his shirt, you start.
“Hi, welcome to Tao Village, how can I help you?” He’s not sure if you’re using a customer service voice on him but it proves to work as he immediately thinks of how sweet your voice sounds. But Jaemin doesn’t want you to think he’s a creep who follows pretty women around and ask for their number the minute they open their mouth (he was so, so, tempted to ask for yours), so he tries a better way to ease in.
“I need to…speak to your manager.” His strong voice startles you both, as your eyes widen a bit before you lean back from the counter, now wary.
‘Is…is everything okay? My manager is unavailable at the moment.” Your eyes flit back to the curtain, where Jaemin assumes the head of this whole place is at the moment. His brows furrow further as he looks down at his watch. Twelve p.m., on the dot like the person he had texted requested. There must be a mistake.
“No, I’m sure they’re here. Maybe somewhere at the back? I need to speak to them,” he’s not sure why he’s suddenly being so demanding (he suspects that it's the polo shirt he’s wearing) but he’s nervous and he doesn’t want to be rejected before he was even given a chance to prove himself.
“I’m sorry if I offended you in any way, sir,” You voice out, now leaning back with your hand situated on the ring button placed below the counter, in case of emergencies or to be able to call for backup from the back of the kitchen. You didn’t think that you’d use it this early, “Can I make it up to you or help you in any form?”
Before you get to ring the button or Jaemin gets to backtrack, the curtains pull back and out comes a man in his mid-twenties, wearing an apron and holding a… paintbrush?
“Is everything alright?” He drops the paintbrush into its respective tray before he steps closer towards the two of you. You point at a faint smear of paint that’s caught on his cheek, mentioning silently to rub it off. Still, when he gets the memo and goes to wipe it off, he ends up smearing it further into his skin, his expression not wavering from its seriousness. It’s when he does a one-over at Jaemin that it all clicks.
“Oh! You must be here for the interview.” He pats down on his apron as if checking his bearings. “Kun said he’ll be back by now; that’s alright, have a seat.” He offers one of the two-seater tables, as Jaemin shuffles his way onward to take a seat, plopping himself on the opposite side of who he assumes is the boss of this place, as he takes his apron off and goes to brush at his clothes, before taking a look at his stained hands and deciding otherwise.
“Thank you for coming, my name is Jaehyun and I’ll just give you a brief breakdown of this place,” Jaemin nods as he rubs his palms against his jeans, thinking about how much he truly knew about this job. Come to think of it, he has no clue what the job he’s applying for even entails, just that they need staff who don’t necessarily need any experience (Jaemin does have some experience, maybe not the right kind) and were willing to pay enough for him to be able to pay his rent and only eat instant noodles two times a week, instead of the standard eight.
“We’re called Tao Village, and we offer a range of Chinese cuisines. I run this place with Kun, who was the one that got in contact with you. Both he and I cook, so we’re always in the kitchen. I have my niece,” That’s when Jaehyun points at you, which you don’t hear as you set up cutlery on tables with your earphones in, completely tuned out. “But she needs help for when we get a bit busier, or when it’s closing time; I can’t stay back because I have to wake up early the next day for the stores' essentials. We can show you the ropes but so far I just need you to work from Friday till Sunday.” Jaemin does his best to listen and store the information, but he realises that Jaehyun’s waiting for his reply.
“Yes, that should be okay,” He gave a thumbs up and a tight-lipped smile, which he slowly brings down when he sees Jaehyun’s stare on his hand.
“Great,” Jaehyun claps, standing up and reaching for the apron he placed on his lap before wrapping it around himself. “Well, the official opening of this place is on Saturday. Come in on Friday and we’ll try to acquaint you with the basics.” With a clap on the shoulder and a grimace of a smile - can it even be considered one? -  Jaehyun hands him a brochure-like menu of the restaurant, telling him that if he can memorise it as soon as possible it will be helpful.
You’re wiping down the counter when Jaemin stands to leave, and when he shoots you a barely-there smile, all you do is look away.
Tumblr media
“You got another job?” Mark sounds surprised when he says this, and that puts Jaemin off, because, of course, he got another job.
“What was I supposed to do? Stay jobless and have Shotaro pay all the rent and food expenses?” Jaemin’s on laundry duty this week, and is being mindful of what colours are supposed to go together according to the laminated piece of paper Shotaro taped above the washing machine.
“Knowing him, he probably would offer to pay your uni fee too.” Mark tosses up a pair of bundled-up socks as he says this. “Wait, so where do you work now?”
“At the new restaurant, you know the haunted place just past the park?” Mark hums as he says this. “I’m a waitress, er, waiter there now. From Friday to Sunday. Which is good because I only have classes throughout the weekday.”
“And you barely get invited out during the weekends anyways,” Mark snickers as he says this, but misses catching the sock as Jaemin grabs a pair of used underwear and throws it directly at the boy, barely missing the undergarment as he looks at him wide-eyed. Words of ‘ew dude’ and ‘that’s gross’ goes into one ear and out the other as he picks the briefs back up and shoves them in the washing machine, closing its door and starting it off.
“Well, I have a good feeling about it this time,”
“Are you gonna blame the ghost for your- wait, did you put any detergent in?”
“ …Does it not come with detergent already?”
Tumblr media
Jaemin picks a lint off of his shoulder, before smoothing his hand down his shirt and his pants next. He was told to wear an all-black attire, not sweatpants or hoods, so he stuck with a simple t-shirt and some black jeans.  He doesn’t know why he’s exceptionally nervous this time when all the other times he was only caught praying to last more than a weeks worth of paycheck. For some reason, he’s not keen on crossing his boss this time - Jaehyun seems scary.
Stepping forward, his hands find the handle and with one deep breath, he pushes the door. Except it doesn’t budge.
He steps back and looks through the glass of the door, seeing if anyone is inside. When he doesn’t find anyone, he pushes once more, and one more time with all his body weight; yet it doesn’t budge.
“I swear they asked me to come in at four,” He fishes his phone out of his pocket, looking at the time while his face stays squished against the door. Not even a second later, he hears the click of the door unlocking, and before his reflex could take over and help him step back, he’s launched forward and onto the ground.
“Oh my god, are you okay? Why would you cling to the door like that?” Your voice reaches his ears as he’s situated on the floor, and he then realises that his fingers were latched onto the door handle when you pulled the door to let him in.
Your slack-covered knees come into his vision first, before your face enters his view, albeit upside down.
“You didn’t get a concussion from that alone, did you?” Sounding so serious, Jaemin couldn’t help but laugh slightly at your words as he pushes himself up to his elbows, brushing at his shirt before inspecting it for any dirt. So much for looking wanting to look presentable.
“Jaehyun’s not here yet, and Kun’s stepped out just then,” Jaemin realises this is the most he’s heard you speak since the first time he’s seen you, as he sees your standing figure reaches a hand out to him, offering to help him up. He gladly accepts it, but is mindful to not pull all his weight.
“Oh,” Is all he can muster, now sheepish at the fact that your second impression of him is not any better than the first. His eyes scan around the place as he finds new additions since last week, such as a few ink-wash paintings on the wall and paper lanterns lining down the ceiling instead of the LED lamps that Jaemin saw last. Even the staff counter looks more lived in compared to the glimpse he caught before, with what looks like a brand new electric kettle and two mugs with silicone lids, one with a peach and another with a bear as their handles.
Not knowing what else to say, his eyes seek yours for any sort of initiative; hoping that you will catch his gaze and give a smile, all while explaining to him the in’s and out of this place, like how should he take orders, if there’s a particular way to fold the tissues that are placed on the tables, and if the Fujian fried rice of this restaurant is the one with or without pumpkin. Simple details.
But you all but look back at him, instead you drop your gaze away from him entirely and go to the staff counter at the back of the restaurant, picking up and taking a look at the kettle before you go behind the curtains that lead to the kitchen, out of Jaemin’s sight. He’s not sure if he’s even allowed there as a rookie staff, so he doesn’t play with his luck and instead trudges behind the counter at the door. After a few minutes of poking and prodding at things like the card reader and a pen cup, the front door swings open and in comes a tall man with red hair, holding plastic bags full of an assortment of things from food to cutlery.
“Oh, you must be Jaemin,” Jaemin straightens his back at the mention of his name, nodding his head and bowing in lieu of a greeting. The man trudges through the restaurant, the bursting plastic bags bumping into the chairs every now and then, and not long after the door swings open once more to reveal Jaehyun.
“Jaemin! You’re,” He gives his watch a glance, “On time! How pleasant, come, have you met Kun? Let’s go into the kitchen first.” Jaehyun manages to say this all with an expressionless face, but Jaemin does not feel like he’s being condescending, following his now-boss silently through the restaurant, past the main staff counter and the curtains and into the kitchen. Boxes are perched on the metal counters of the restaurant’s kitchen, filled with what Jaemin guesses are the containers for the ingredients of the dishes, and some restaurant plates, as well as takeaway boxes and bags. You’re taking out the abundance of takeaway container lids from boxes that take up two-thirds of your height, stocking them up on the top shelf.
“Kun, have you met Jaemin? I’m not sure we’ve given him a proper tour of the place,” Jaemin doesn’t think he’s gotten any sort of tour of the whole place, so all he does is politely shake his head.
Kun grunts as he places another big box next to your unpacking figure, the impact of it barely making you flinch. He looks at Jaehyun before his gaze falls on Jaemin, and with a smile and a wave of his hand, he goes through the backdoor of the kitchen without looking back.
Jaemin is guided through the whole place, with Kun showing him the storage room and the cold room, which conveniently has a sliding door; the singular bathroom of the whole place, and the main part of the restaurant.
“You don’t need to prepare much for tomorrow, it says in your resume that you’ve worked in a lot of places for short amounts of time, which gives me the impression that you can pick up traits easily,” Jaemin delivers a stiff smile as he feels Kun clasp a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Me and Jaehyun will just tell you the way we work, but first I need you to help with the unpacking. Any questions?”
Jaemin nods his head, taking the chance to now ask his burning question. “Will I get paid for today?”
Kun just laughs and pats him twice on the shoulder, shaking his head and heading to the kitchen, shoulders bunching up now and then.
Tumblr media
Tasked with the job of organising the cutlery, Jaemin places the metal spoons and forks into the cutlery tray placed next to the plates and bowls for setting up the tables. You’re here too, wiping down the window and the glass door, emitting any sort of stain. Jaemin tries his best to not let his gaze wander on for too long, wanting to be in your good books. From what it seems, you seem just as important as both Kun and Jaehyun, so he doesn’t want to risk doing anything wrong, or piss you off. He also thinks you’re really pretty and would like to ask you out, but that’s beside the point.
It’s when you’re getting up from wiping the bottom of the window when you hear the clatter of plastic. Turning around, your eyes widen when you see Jaemin and the plastic forks he was supposed to put away at his feet.
“I…” There goes Jaemin’s one and only chance. He isn’t even being paid for this and he’s gonna get fired, right in front of the person he was trying to rizz up, too. Before he can say anymore and save his reputation, you whizz past him and into the kitchen, the curtains flying around you but you’re mindful enough to shut them back, not letting the sight of Jaemin with a bunch of forks splayed around him like he’s being sacrificed to the fast-food culinary Gods. He hears Kun and Jaehyun’s voices coming through the curtains, variations of them asking if everything is alright, to which you answer with the clutter of pots and pans.
Coming back with a big metal bowl, Jaemin’s eyes widen as you kneel — for the second time today — at his legs, picking up the forks frantically and placing them in the metal basin.
“Are you gonna help?”
And now he’s on his knees too. Scooping up the forks and placing them in the bowl, once every single fork is off the floor, you rush towards the undermount sink at the corner of the staff counter just as footsteps echo from the kitchen and Jaheyun’s figure emerges.
“Is everything good?” Jaemin feels paralysed, unable to decipher anything since the doom he felt spilling all the single-use forks onto the floor.
“Yup,” You answer nonchalantly, filling up the basin full of forks with water and a few drops of dish soap. “Just thought to rinse these clean first before…” You pause for a second as you look at Jaemin, before trailing your gaze to Jaehyun with a smile. “Before Jaemin organises them.”
Jaehyun simply nods his head before he trudges back to the kitchen, and Jaemin barely gets to utter a ‘thank you’ before you walk past him and into the kitchen.
Tumblr media
“So she just helped you? That simply?” Jaemin’s smile is all but smug, as he cracks open his beer and clinks it against Marks, both taking generous sips.
“What can I say? I charmed her with my natural skills,”
“The natural skills of messing things up,” Mark scoffs at him before leaning over to get a piece of fried chicken out of the takeout box. “She probably pitied you for making a rookie mistake.” He starts munching on the chicken and hums in delight, following it with a sip of his beer. Jaemin reaches to pick up a pickled radish.
“Well, rookie mistake or not, she likes me enough to help me. You should come to work tomorrow for the grand opening, and while you’re at it bring everyone else too; I swear she doesn’t even like people,” Mark laughs in delight at Jaemin’s invitation, promising to come up with something.
Mouth full, he asks, “How long do you think you’ll last?”
“Swallow your fucking food first before jetting all your spit at me dude,”
Tumblr media
In the same black polo shirt, Jaemin steps in at noon, just like his boss number one (Kun) asked him to, while boss number two (Jaehyun) had emphasised that calling him this early is to ease him in easier into the culinary business. Jaemin doesn’t mind, he’s just glad that he’s being paid for today's work.
He greets you with a wave as soon as he gets in, to which you wave back before going to the kitchen and announcing his presence.
“Jaemin’s here now,” You come back out and stand at the staff counter, taking the kettle and filling it up with water to boil. Going behind the counter, he places his phone and earbuds into his pocket, remembering that they were prohibited unless he’s on his break. Once the water is boiled, you pour it into the two mugs Jaemin remembers seeing yesterday, before putting it back on its stand and taking the mugs back into the kitchen.
Jaemin simply fiddles around, not knowing what to do. It looks like his presence on Friday was needed to set things up, but now that it’s all done, he can only wait for a customer to walk or call in, or either one of you to give him a command; he’s weary this time ‘round to not fuck anything up.
Coming back out right behind Kun, you busy yourself at the counter next to the door while Kun comes up to Jaemin, patting him on the back.
“Don’t worry about doing much today, it’s just a soft opening and not a lot of people know about our business anyways. I’m just expecting maybe two or three takeaway orders and just a handful of tables. This could be a good chance for you to bond with each other, yeah?” But before Jaemin could take in the fact that Kun had wanted some sort of bonding to happen, his mind got caught on the words ‘soft opening’.
“Wait, so today’s only the …soft opening.” Careful with his tone, Jaemin tries to make it sound like he’s just restating a fact rather than being surprised. Kun is too busy drinking from his hot water to notice Jaemin’s nervous front.
“Yup, Jaehyun and I decided it would be best to have a grand opening maybe after we got to test the waters out.” He places the silicon lid with the bear cover back on his cup to retain the heat, and Jaemin really can’t help but feel like something bad is brewing. But before he could even voice out a word, the door to the restaurant opens with a bell resounding, and in swarm a pack of ten or so customers, and a blob that looks like Mark.
“Yoo, this place is quite neat,” Apparently it talks like Mark too.
Both shocked still with wide eyes, trying to make sense of where and how this many people all came together into the restaurant just minutes after the soft opening, Jaemin just hopes that nothing about Mark and what seems like a club he gathered from the university can be somehow linked back to him. It doesn’t seem like the universe is keen on taking his side, however, as he sees Mark’s eyes squint and searches around the restaurant, knowingly searching for him. Jaemin doesn’t know why he hasn’t tried looking at where the general staff area would be, like at the door or where he’s currently situated, but before he could duck to hide or face his impending doom, you miraculously step in.
“Hello, welcome to Tao Village, how can I help you?” You sport a kind but mute smile, hands clasped together politely.
“Yeah, can I have, like, a table or something?”
“Sure, for how many people?”
“Ooh! Good question… I think there’s like, ten of us at the moment.”
“Is it alright if I were to ask you to sit separately? Since you’re walking in, we didn’t have the opportunity to set up. Just in two groups of three and one table for four maybe?” Jaemin doesn’t know how you do it, but his shoulders sag when Mark gives you a thumbs up, going back to the group of people all loitering around the entrance, telling them that they will just break into subunits.
Kun has somehow slipped away without any notice, which left just Jaemin behind the counter for you to encounter when you head towards the bottled water in the fridge. “Can you help me with the water? I’ll take their orders and you can just follow along first,” With a nod of his head, you press the bottle into his hands, waving him off as you reach for a server notepad, writing down table numbers and heading to the tables.
With your presence and the two chefs busy in the kitchen, Jaemin doesn’t do much but avoid eye contact with Mark and listen to you pick up the scarce phone orders that come through; trying his best to learn how to pick up such skill. After the third time of the phone ringing and Jaemin staying in place, simply looking at you to pick up the phone, you pick it up and press the answer button, before pressing it against his ear and giving an encouraging nod.
It turns out to be a scam call, with the person on the other end attempting to sell Jaemin a double-doored fridge with a touch screen and dual ice and water dispenser, all while Jaemin tries to promote the restaurant.
“With the dual dispenser, you can fill your glass up with both water and ice at the same time so your water doesn’t go too cold on the first si-“
“The mapo tofu is a great dish to order, as tofu proves to be a primary source of iron, easily accessible and cheap with the rising price of meat.”
“…It’s a Samsung model which has been on limited release—“
“Do you want the food or not?”
(The telemarketer hesitates just a bit before stating that they’ll call another time.)
Nothing else happens, you two go to the kitchen whenever a sound of the bell ringing resounds, signalling that a dish is ready to be served, and Jaemin uses all of his brain power and logic skills to pick up dishes that are for tables that Mark isn't seated at.
He successfully gets to do all that is required of him and stealthily avoids Mark, silently celebrating as he sees you place fortune cookies at every table, signalling that it’s time for them to pay the bill and leave.
But of course, nothing good ever lasts.
“Jaemin, bro,” Mark must’ve been some assassin in his past life because Jaemin barely notices him creeping up to him until he’s already wrapped in a handshake and a bro hug. “Well done dude, you barely made a mistake today. Yo, the food was good too, you should bring back some of the Mongolian lambs every now and then, yeah? I’ll see you later,” And with two claps on his back, he’s fishing his pockets for spare change as he heads towards the front counter and near the door, finding a singular coin before placing it in your palm, smiling as if he’s single-handedly pulled you out of poverty.
“Your friend?” You murmur towards him, looking at the coin in distaste.
“Yeah, unfortunately so.”
Tumblr media
“I can’t do it,” Jaemin is shaking his head and hands vehemently; making him feel even more sick than he was.
You roll your eyes at him, holding the restaurant's phone in your hand. “You have to start somewhere, you can’t just avoid it now and expect to be miraculously good one day. I swear once you learn how to pick up phone orders you’ll only want to do that.” You explain, before putting your free hand out, palm facing up, encouraging Jaemin to do the same. Once he follows, not without a lot of hesitation, of course, you gently place the phone in his hand, closing his fingers around it with two hands before giving it a light pat.
“Now,” You pick up Jaehyun's phone that's placed on the counter, dialling the restaurant's number before placing yourself on the other side of the restaurant to cease any echoes. “I’m gonna call and act like a customer, you try writing down the order details.” With a nod of his head, you press the dial and turn the other way around, opting to look away to make Jaemin less nervous.
With a deep breath in, he picks up. “Hi, welcome to Tao Village,” He pauses, looking at you for any sign of motivation, but continues when he notices you waiting. “What would you like to order?”
“Jaemin,” Your voice sounds in the dining area and not through the phone, as you turn slightly to look at him with the phone tucked into your chest. “Some customers might not order food straight away. Maybe try asking how you can be of assistance,”
“Hello, welcome to Tao Village restaurant. Uh, how can I help?” Jaemin tries again, to which you reply with a bunch of dish names, asking for the different types of sauces that come with the mixed vegetables, as he tries his best to answer with what he remembers and writes down the prices of each dish from the takeaway menu.
“Uh, okay. Is that, did you want anything else?”
“Nope, I’m good. What's the total?” Jaemin fumbles with the calculator, shoulders hunched over the counter, punching in the numbers and writing down the total on the piece of paper. “That would be around 38,000 won.”
“Are you sure?” This time your voice is right by his ear without the phone pressed against it, your arm brushing against his side. Jaemin doesn’t even have the time to be scared, distracted by the proximity of you two as you reach over and use the calculator.
“It came up to 42,000 won. Did you forget to calculate the buns?”
“Oh,” Jaemin splutters. “Maybe, my bad.” Although this all sounds so new to Jaemin, he doesn’t feel as overwhelmed as he thought he would; with every other job he had, there would be someone assigned to help Jaemin understand the ropes of the place, but everyone else would add something on too, like how folding clothes the ‘Marie Kondo way’ was is even more efficient, even if that defeats the whole purpose of displaying a t-shirt at a department store.
You coach him through the quirks one by one, not moving on until Jaemin shows that he’s somewhat picked up the action. It all feels like a dream come true, with you guiding him as if you know that he couldn’t last a week into his job without actually knowing that. He’s just not sure how effective it will be in the long run. And it turns out that he doesn’t need to wait long to find out, as the ringing of the phone echoes in the restaurant devoid of any noise except for the soft piano background music.
Nodding your head at him, Jaemin picks up the phone and only hesitates for half a ring before he presses accept, bringing the phone to his ear and repeating the welcome phrase. It all goes well, with the customer asking if they can make a phone order for pick up, to which Jaemin replies ‘Why yes, of course you may’, and the sound of a car door closing sounds through the phones speakers, and suddenly the quality of the customers' voice sounds like hot garbage as their phone connects to their cars’ bluetooth.
“Sorry, did you say you wanted mixed vegetables in rooster sauce? Sorry, we don’t offer— oh. Oyster sauce. Yup,” You look at him with a confused look on your face, curious as to why Jaemin can’t understand the person when everything was good. The furrow of your eyebrows and the scratching sound from the phone sets Jaemin off, as the customer mutters something about ‘how many times do I have to repeat myself?’.
Jaemin writes down what he can understand, writing down the name ‘Kai’ and giving the customer the estimated waiting time, before hanging up the phone.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” You give him a pat on the shoulder, taking the slip of paper from his hand, wincing as you take a look at the scribbles writing of the dish names and their prices. “It’ll just go up from here. Hey, tell you what, why don’t you try remembering the ingredients of our fried rice, and see if you can differentiate between which one is the normal one and the special one without looking at the names, yeah? I’ll go help set up the ingredients for cooking these dishes,” And with one last tap, you disappear behind the curtains, taking a pen with you and correcting the mistakes before providing it to the two chefs.
Tumblr media
You’re busy talking at a table of customers when the door swings open and in walks a customer, which leaves Jaemin to tend to them instead. With a customer service smile, he clears his throat and greets them.
“How can I help you?”
“Oh, I’m here to pick up an order. Under the name Kim I think? Sorry, I didn’t place the order but my dad did.” The woman scrolls through her phone as she says this, looking at what Jaemin guesses to be an exchange of texts between her and her dad. He ducks a bit to look at the dock under the table, where all the takeaways are brought and placed with the order slip attached to them with a piece of tape. He sees one with the name Kim and picks it up, removing the attached slip and placing it on top of the counter while the lady reaches for her wallet.
“Okay, uh, did you order the sweet and sour pork, with a large fried rice?” Jaemin reads off the food, a procedure you emphasised was important when dealing with takeaway orders. The lady nods, impatient as she swings her card around. He looks at the price at the end of the paper before punching it into the machine. Once the transaction goes through successfully and a receipt is printed, the woman quickly snatches the handle of the takeaway plastic bag and nods her head goodbye. Jaemin senses that something is wrong, off maybe even, and so he looks at the copy of the receipt and the contents of the order slip, looking at the other orders waiting at the dock and their contents and seeing that they all match their slips, and so with a shrug, he sets off to go back to the staff counter.
It isn’t until ten minutes pass that his wrongdoing was confirmed, as you call for his name from across the restaurant while sifting through the takeaway orders, a customer patiently looking over to see your interaction. He pulls up beside you, squatting down eye-level to the dock like you are before he whispers, “Did I do something wrong?”
“Where is the order for Kim? The one with the fried rice and sweet and sour pork? I remember bringing it here when it was packed at the back.” Jaemin feels his blood run cold at the mention of the order, a clear replay of his interaction with the woman coming in full blast.
“Oh… that…” At this, you pause your search and look at Jaemin, whose breath hitches at the short distance between your faces, courtesy of your crouched figures. You close your eyes, breathing in deeply to calm your nerves, before straightening up at lightning speed, knocking Jaemin over and onto the ground with an ‘oof’.
“Your order is still not ready yet, sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll go and check up on the progress, did you want to take a seat while you wait?” You smile at the customer, who nods back and says something about not minding the wait. You walk over Jaemin’s bent knees on the ground, going past him and into the kitchen.
He picks himself up quickly, making brief eye contact with the customer before looking at the curtains which you walked into. He’s doomed, you’re gonna tell Jaehyun and Kun about the mistake you made, and they’re gonna come out mad with their sleeves pulled up, ready to beat the shit out of him. He should’ve taken the self-defence class his mom recommended to him when he was twelve, maybe then he could do something to make the pain afterwards not hurt as much.
But before he could think about running out of the place with the bowl of fortune cookies (compensation for the beating that is due… possibly), you come back out, heading for the sink and filling up a glass of water while you place it on the table that the real Kim sits at.
“Shouldn’t be too long, they’re just finishing up on the sweet and sour pork. Here some water while you wait.” And now Jaemin is confused. He’s still on the floor of the restaurant with his brows furrowed and mouth hung open as if he’s gonna start throwing a temper tantrum. Your eyes widen ever so slightly when you catch a glimpse of him still on the ground where you left him, but your professionalism pushes through as you widen the smile on your face with a hum, before shuffling away towards his direction when the customer looks away. Pulling him up, Jaemin is only able to offer you a few murmurs of random words to voice his confusion.
“They’re making a new batch, I figured that someone provided a similar name and didn’t know the order details, which is why they accepted it. Don’t worry, they don’t know that you mixed it up,” Jaemin feels a sense of relief wash over him, looking at you with what he knows to be his puppy eyes; you make sure to look away.
“Isn’t it like, against the rules to not tell them?”
“Well, if you like rules so much, you can go ahead and take this takeaway order to the back and confess. Or you can split its payment with me and take what you like home. While you decide what to do, I’ll call the customer you gave the wrong order to and offer some apology coupon.” If it was professional to, Jaemin would give you the biggest head; but unfortunately, this isn’t the film industry, and so he sticks to the next best thing, which is to just look at you longingly.
Tumblr media
In hindsight, five weeks have passed and Jaemin is still an employee of Tao Village, surpassing his longest streak of two weeks and five days at the retail store. Which calls for a celebration.
“To Jaemin,” Shotaro opens a can of beer with one hand, which truly impresses Jaemin, because he didn’t think that he knew what alcohol was, let alone drink it. “Who can finally pay his half of the rent on time,”
“You’re too nice, Shotaro,” Mark clinks his can against his and Jaemin’s at the toast, taking a sip. “I would’ve kicked him out as soon as he somehow disconnected the house's water system. You guys had to shower at the campus locker rooms for a week.”
Shotaro simply laughs as Jaemin lunges at Mark. “You don’t even live here, why do you keep coming? You should pay rent at this point too, fucker,”
Mark shoves at Jaemin’s face, which was really close to biting his shoulder, effectively avoiding a months-long bruise. He scooches away on the couch, leaning against the handle and sipping his beer. Jaemin picks up a piece of takeaway fried chicken, and it’s with his mouthful when Shotaro asks how he’s liking the place.
“It’s okay, it’s not too busy since it just opened and no one really knows of its existence. Except for when Mark brought a shitton of people on its soft opening day,”
“You told me it was the gran-”
“Anyway, thankfully I didn’t get into trouble for that. But I was close all the other times…”
Mark snorts while Shotaro mumbles something about how well Jaemin is doing. “What, did you do all the cliche mistakes?”
“Define cliche,” Jaemin speaks after taking another bite of the chicken, making Mark kick at his thigh lightly.  “Like, did you spill red wine on a customer? Or break a plate, or write down the wrong order. You know, restaurant waiter cliches.” Jaemin ponders for a second at this, thinking back to his five weeks of employment at the place.
“Not quite…” He tilts his head in thought, but before he could follow it up with anything, Shotaro and Mark clink their drinks together from opposite sides of the couch.
“Then that means you’ve finally healed! Let’s celebrate while we can,” Mark and Shotaro both chug at their drinks, and Jaemin would be ecstatic to join if it weren’t for the fact that it’s only three pm in the afternoon. But also because he doesn’t think he can celebrate yet.
“Shotaro, did you know about this person Jaemin’s working with as well? He has a massive boner for her but like, they barely interact.” Shotaro chuckles at this, glancing at Jaemin whose face is now red as he stumbles for an excuse.
“She must be really nice if you like her; does she help you around a lot?” Shotaro questions, making Jaemin flush even more.
“If only you knew,”
Tumblr media
He picks up a carton of Sprite from the ground of the cold room, goosebumps erupt all over his forearms as Jaemin hurries out of the place, closing the door shut with his foot. Shuffling past the two chefs cooking and back into the dining area, he briefly searches for you before he finds you at the basin at the staff counter, washing the used cups.
“I brought the carton,” He announces, making you turn around.
“Thanks, do you mind placing it here? You can open the carton but be careful when you put it at the edge, it can spill out.” Your fingers are covered in sud as you point at the counter next to you. With a nod of his head, he perches the carton on the counter, half of it hanging out with the cluster of items placed, not providing enough room. As he gently prods open the cardboard packaging, he glances at you, back facing him as you lather the cups in soap one by one. Before he could continue with his task with his newfound motivation (your existence), you lean over and open the door to the mini glasswasher, backing up against him as you place the cups in.
He averts his gaze quickly, eyes wide from seeing you bend over like that, not wanting to lose his feminist streak from letting his mind wander so easily. As he continues to prod at the Sprite container, he feels the briefest brush of your legs against his, and he completely splutters, accidentally hooking his finger at the opening of the carton and ripping it open, making all the cans stacked against each other topple out and over the edge of the counter, one by one making an impact with the floor.
With a screech and a poor attempt of stopping the cans in motion, he squats to make it to the cans before they fully fall to the floor. But it seems like, yet again, the universe is not on his side, because not only does he fail to catch most of the descending drinks, the bridge of his nose makes contact with the edge of the counter, making him join the cans on the floor.
“Oh my god,” You’re shocked by the view in front of you, like some sort of twisted Renaissance painting. You reach down, and just as Jaemin is about to tell you not to worry about him, and that he can just die a beautiful death with the cans surrounding him, you pick up the fallen cans, inspecting them for any damage.
“You’re lucky none of these popped open, the floor would be sticky for days,” You mutter as you place the cans back on top of the counter, separating the ones that turned out fine and the dented ones. All the while Jaemin lies there, his nose throbbing, contemplating how he’s lasted here so far.
“Aren’t you gonna tell them?” He closes his eyes as he gently presses his cold fingers against his nose bridge, soothing the pain. The answer seems to be an obvious ‘yes’ if your lack of reply is anything to go by. A few seconds pass and he feels the cold contact of a can replacing where his hands were on his features, and when he opens his eyes, he sees your face above his, inspecting him.
“What is there to say? That you’re on the ground fighting against a nosebleed?” You taunt, removing the can and inspecting the spot with the gentle press of your fingers. Grabbing his hand and opening his palm, you place the dented can you used gesturing to his face.
“You can drink it once you’re done, they won’t notice,” Jaemin sits up as you say this, bringing the can up to his nose, pressing the cold against it as he watches you go back to turning on the machine and walking away, tending to other restaurant responsibilities.
Tumblr media
Notepad and pen in hand, Jaemin walks to the table that raised their hand at him and delivers his best customer service smile. “Hello, welcome back to Tao. Would you like to order?” You had given Jaemin the heads up to look after this table exclusively.
“They’re this group of ladies that have nothing to do but spend their significant others’ money. They come like, almost every second day; something about wanting to support local businesses. And they give generous tips. No one does that.” You sigh. “I wish I had that much free time.”
The women smile at him, seemingly charmed. Jaemin knows the power he holds, and he also knows that if he bunches up his cheeks just right, he can have any woman over the age of fifty want to pinch them.
“What a charismatic boy,” one of them comments, and he blinks his eyes and tilts his head, smile still on his face feeling just slightly strained as he politely rejects the compliment, feigning humility.
“Okay, well can we start our entrees with a set of fried dim sims and spring rolls, and for the main course we’ll have the mapo tofu, fried rice— did you say you wanted Hokkien mee? One of those too please, and a serving of mixed vegetables with oyster sauce and chicken chow mien. No mushrooms for either, please. And for drinks, we’ll just have three tsingtao’s and one glass of Shiraz.” The woman drones, and Jaemin has a bit of difficulty catching up and writing down all the dishes she’s named, and so he repeats it all back once it’s done; a practice heavily encouraged by you.
When Jaemin finishes listing the dishes back and receives four nodding heads, he smiles in thanks and head’s to the kitchen, yelling out ‘New order!’ for the chefs to be aware of. Coming back out and placing a copy of the notepad at the staff counter, his smile turns genuine when he sees you, showcasing two thumbs up.
Now bashful, he says “I think I’ve replaced you as ‘favourite waiter’ now.” His smile is cheeky as he says this, with you rolling your eyes, pointing at the fridge near the counter instead. “Stop spewing bullshit and get the drinks ready. I’ll write down the prices of each dish.” With a salute and nod of his head, he goes to fetch the drinks from the fridge and the bottle of red wine nearby, as well as an empty wine glass. Preparing the drinks, your shoulders brush against each other in the tight space of the staff counter, with you looking back and forth between the menu and the order slip. Jaemin misses when your eyebrows furrow together, inspecting the slip for something.
“Uhm, Jaemin,” He hums back in response, eyes still focused on pouring no more than one standard drink of the wine. “Did you tell the kitchen that this is the table with a mushroom allergy?”
Jaemin’s heart drops to his ass.
His posture straightens immediately, vision zeroing in on the table he just took the order of, as his head slowly turns to you, a million thoughts run around in his head. With the expression he sports, you quickly grab a pen and a highlighter, running back into the kitchen as quickly as possible. Scanning the restaurant, when he sees all the customers occupied, he slowly slips away and into the kitchen, leaving them unattended to somehow save his ass, and from a possible murder case.
“—do you mean there’s a mushroom allergy? And why did none of you tell us? Of course the mixed vegetables and chow mien have vegetables in them.” Kun speaks as he cooks on the wok, lifting it every now and then as the clang of his wok’s spatula echoes out, mixing around the satay chicken.
“He wrote it down but just forgot to say it out loud,” You bluff, pointing at the copy of the slip that Jaemin brought back into the kitchen, now adorning the words ‘NO MUSHROOM’ in bold, highlighted letters at the top. Your other hand is clasped behind your back, holding the pen and highlighter. Jaehyun momentarily stops making his fried rice, coming up to the counter, and looking at you over it before snatching the slip, his aggressive manner making Jaemin wince slightly.
With a poor squint of his eyes, you and Jaemin wait with bated breaths for him to somehow finish reading the two words. When his eyes stop squinting, he spares a look at both you and Jaemin, placing the slip back down onto the counter before reaching into the bowl containing the ingredients for the dishes, fishing out the mushrooms and putting them back from where he originally picked them up, waving you both off. And you barely waste any time, muttering a sorry and going towards the curtains, pushing Jaemin out with you.
“Sorry. Thank you.” He doesn’t know what else to say, looking at you while you ignore his gaze so close to your face, centring him back to the staff counter. You shake your head and hand at him as if to say that he has nothing to be sorry about.
“Mistakes happen. Now can you put the puppy eyes away? We have a new customer to serve.”
“I’m not that stupid to bel— Hi, welcome to Tao Village. How can I help you?”
Tumblr media
“Jaemin, do you think you could give the Chardonnay to table three? It’s for the man with the glasses,” You ask as you calculate the total of a takeaway order you just took, glancing at him to see if he’s available.
“Sure,” It turns out that you’ve already set out the glass and the bottle, as he opens the cap and pours it in, before taking a tray and placing the glass on it. You’ve taught him a few times to hold the tray with one hand, but he’s taking it slow and only using a single hand with drinks and sauces that he’s asked to deliver, not wanting to be too ambitious. Balancing it, he eyes for table number three and said man with glasses, strategically planning to swiftly arrive and deliver the drink.
As he waltz’s his way through, with his vision zeroed in on the customer, he completely misses the lady at the table before wanting to get out of her chair, completely skidding it across the floor and making an impact on Jaemin’s side.
Everything is suddenly carried out in slow motion, as he sees the fright on the woman's face, the tilt of his body and tray towards the customer settled on the table, the white wine toppling over the rim of the glass. If he retains his focus, maybe he can slow-mo recover and balance himself, only causing the wine to spill on the ground and maybe himself. He is willing to sacrifice his (Shotaro’s) black t-shirt.
Then he blinks.
A groan echoes and silent gasps are spilt, as he opens his eyes and sees first the man drenched in white wine, and Jaemin’s hand on his arm, balancing himself. Before he could even separate himself and apologise profusely, he is suddenly grabbed by the collar, and in his head, he’s already commemorating the lovely memories he’s made here with you and mourns how quickly he has to abandon the delusion that you two will end up together.
With one eye squeezed close, he’s not sure if it’s better to expect a punch or a slap against his face, but before he can anticipate either, he hears someone say “Excuse me, sir,”
“What do you want,” The man snarls at you, as you make eye contact with him, a silent customer-service-smile sported on your face as always.
“Apologies sir, but we don’t accept this sort of behaviour in our restaurant. Violence is not part of our values. I do ask of you to let out staff member go, you’re scaring him.” Jaemin can’t help but nod his head at the man, who glares at him before letting him go and jamming a finger into Jaemin’s chest.
“This boy spilt my drink all over me, how is that a part of your values?” He yells, making Jaemin wince at the loud volume, but you merely blink, stepping forward and closer to the customer, lowering your voice in an attempt to get him to soften his, too.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience caused sir, but this sort of behaviour is not tolerated. If you would allow our staff to apologise and we’ll-”
The customer scoffs, “Apologise? An apology isn’t gonna fix the stain caused on my shirt. Isn’t the customer always right? Who the fuck are you to speak to me like this,” He shoves you at your shoulder as he says this, causing you to stumble back into Jaemin’s figure, whose arms shoot out and hold you by the waist.
The curtains leading to the kitchen skid aside, and out steps Jaehyun. It all feels so dramatic if Jaemin were to look at it from a perspective of an outsider, as Jaehyun walks over to you three, his figure looming over all of you.
His smile is blinding, dimples forming on both his cheeks as he clasps his hands together. “Out,” Is all he says, hand now facing the door of the restaurant.
The man blanches. “But—”
Jaehyun merely shakes his head in a stern manner, smile suddenly dropping, pursing his lips as if taunting a child. Without making contact with the customer, he guides him gently towards the door, before the man gets the memo and stomps his way out. Jaehyun turns to the remaining customers at the table, providing a formal apology and confiding in them that they simply don’t tolerate this sort of behaviour towards their staff.
“Would you like to pack away your remaining food? You can pay at the counter just at the front, thank you for your understanding and apologies for the inconvenience,” And with that, he steps back into the kitchen, curtains shutting close as if they barely jostled. As you and Jaemin pick up the plates and pack the food into takeaway containers, Jaemin slowly approaches you, his arm brushing against yours.
“Are you okay,” He asks, voice solemn. It never feels nice to get yelled at by a customer, Jaemin’s just used to it, but he forgets that it can take a toll on different people.
Your smile is shy, barely looking in his direction as you click to close the lid of the container, grabbing both of your containers before placing them in a takeaway bag. “Yeah, I’m okay.” without a second glance, you walk to the front counter, giving the bag to the customer as well as the receipt.
Tumblr media
“Can you two close up? Kun and I have to get up early tomorrow to make it to the fish market before the good quality scallops all sell out.” Jaehyun says this later in the day, as he folds his apron and places it on the staff counter. “I’ve already mopped the back. Do you have the keys?” He looks at you as he says this, to which you nod and give a thumbs up. With a nod of his head, he goes through the back door of the restaurant, leaving you two alone. Jaemin mops as you wipe the tables clean, preparing them to be set up once again tomorrow. Silence engulfs you two, with the only sounds being the slosh of the mop in the bucket and the scrape of chairs as you manoeuvre around them.
Jaemin decides that this is a good time to speak up. “Thank you for doing that,” He continues pumping the mop into the drainer part of the bucket, removing all excess water before plopping it back down. “I wouldn’t have minded if he had smacked me,” At this you laugh, cheeks bunching up cutely making Jaemin’s heart flutter.
“Did you want him to smack you?” You look into his eyes this time, the lights of the restaurant reflecting in your iris’. Jaemin thinks he could get used to this.
“Are you kink-shaming me? I doubt that’s allowed within the Tao VIllage values,”
“I’m not too sure. Hey, why don't we talk to the boss about it tomorrow?”
Jaemin’s grin is cheshire-like, “Wouldn't be the worst conversation I’d have,” At that you raise an eyebrow, to which he throws a wink. A comfortable silence engulfs the two of you, as you continue with your tasks, working around one another and you avoid the places Jaemin has freshly mopped while he manoeuvres himself around you.
It’s when you’re outside of the place and locking the doors, sizing up and down the door to put all the locks in place when you speak up. “You don’t have to thank me, by the way. People make mistakes, and Jaehyun would be less mad at me than at you. Plus, Kun doesn’t care like that either, as long as he can run this business, you can break as many cartons of drinks as you desire,” Looking over your shoulder, you catch Jaemin gazing at you, the same puppy eyes leering at you. Looking away, you pick up your stuff from the ground, wanting to bid him goodbye and completely disappear, maybe quit this job and move countries and settle down with a farming family of seven that don’t mind an additional one person to work their fields and pet their cows as a form of cattle therapy. Anything but face Jaemin’s face abd his ridiculously handsome features.
But before you could begin your progress, Jaemin calls out your name, making you turn around to face him once more. Thankfully, there’s no sign of the puppy eyes, but he is smiling.
“Since it’s a Sunday and we have a day off tomorrow, do you want to grab some food with me?”
Tumblr media
The warmth from the broth and fishcake in your cup seeps into your hand, preventing them from getting too cold in the Autumn breeze. Jaemin counts his notes under the red and yellow haze of the fishcake stall, handing them to the old lady once he collects the right amount. The woman snatches the notes once Jaemin presents them and counts them twice, nodding her head in dismissal when she’s done.
Picking up his cup, the two of you manoeuvre yourself around the park and settle on a free bench, looking out into the lit-up park, with parents and kids at the playground while adults settle their picnic mats and huddle around near the fairy-lit trees; the Central park seems to be teeming with more people with the sudden shift of seasons, as people embrace the coming cold by celebrating in their own ways. Kids scream at the top of their lungs when sliding down a steep slide, and adults teem with laughter as they swish their wine in their plastic glasses.
Picking out a stick of fishcake from the cup full of broth, you blow on it a few times before biting into it, settling into the park bench more comfortably as the warmth of the food engulfs you. Excluding the bustle of people, you and Jaemin sit quietly as you indulge in your food.
But the silence doesn’t last long. “I don’t know how kids are so agile at such a young age. Like, aren’t their bones basically jelly?” Jaemin points at the few kids climbing up ropes at the playground, taking them to a tall slide as a reward.
“It doesn’t look too hard,” You quip, head leaning closer to Jaemin as you look at the kids climbing up vicariously. Jaemin turns to look at you, making you realise just how close you leaned in. “You think you could climb that?”
“At my age? Easy,” You scoff, leaning back and away, now feeling more flustered. If Jaemin catches on to your behaviour, he doesn’t make it obvious, sipping on the broth in his cup and opting to ask you about your favourite playground equipment.
Tumblr media
“Thank you for the fishcakes,” You pat your stomach, smiling at your coworker.
“Of course,” He rocks back and forth on his heels the two of you standing at the edge of the park, ready to part ways. “I can never have a pretty girl like you be deprived of such Autumn goodness,” Jaemin teems at you as he says this, ready to receive some sort of backlash for his behaviour.
Imagine his surprise when you slightly guffaw, before stopping yourself with a hand to your mouth and a straight face. “If you think I’m so pretty,” You start as you turn around, slowly beginning the walk back to your house. “You would do more than just buy me a 3,000 won snack; I think pretty girls like me deserve more. No?” And with a wave, you continue your walk, leaving Jaemin with wide eyes and a slightly concerning grip on his cup.
Tumblr media
It’s been eight weeks since Jaemin started working at Tao Village as a waiter, and he hasn’t known peace throughout.
It’s not that the pay is bad, or that the people around him treat him terribly. The pay is generous enough and as rarely as he sees Kun and Jaehyun on his shift, even if they’re a curtain width away from him, they’re nice and give him a container of food after every shift. And you’re an angel on earth, helping him whenever he fucks something up, and saving his ass nearly six times since he’s started working here.
The problem is that he makes those mistakes. And he has to go out of his way to not make these mistakes, and after every shift he feels like he’s worked five days with no break when in reality he just had a five-hour shift and a very generous thirty-minute break, eating hot and sour soup while you tell him about the weird customers you’ve encountered, asking him to rank them from most to least smashable with the details given from your anecdote.
Speaking of you, he thinks you're the epitome of his worries. Ever since he slipped up and basically confessed to thinking you’re attractive, you’ve been tormenting him, torturing even. If he were to tell you this, you would deny it all. And of course you would, because—
“I’m not doing anything,” You reply when Jaemin asks what you’re doing with the order slip that he’s just written down on. With a pen in your hand and a separate order slip, you’re copying down everything word for word instead of just taking Jaemin’s one to the back like normal.
“Yes, you are. Why are you making a copy of my slip— Are you ripping it to pieces?!” Jaemin shrieks, which catches the attention of the patrons in the restaurant, earning him a light smack against his arm.
You sigh, “Look, Jaehyun doesn’t like it sometimes when the slip looks too messy. There’s already a lot of oil and water being splattered on these poor things the minute they go past the curtain.” You shake the paper in your hand. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, you grab Jaemin’s hand, not looking at his face in case he’s flashing those eyes again. Jokes on you, because he’s also blushing, so you’re doing him a favour.
“Your handwriting isn’t messy, they’re just used to mine. I don’t want them to make a fuss over nothing,” You pat his hand and head to the back, not before reminding him to check on table number seven.
Tumblr media
Looking at his left hand, the hand which you grasped hours ago, he holds it to his chest and prays to whatever holds power to keep him strong. He doesn’t know if you’re doing these things on purpose, or if he just has a weak heart.
“You barely go out of your room, so I’d say the second option is more likely.” Mark quips, tilting his body to the same side that his kart skids in the game. Jaemin lies down on his bed arm slung over his eyes as Mark plays on his console.
“Am I just due for a good fuck? Is that why I’m basically busting whenever she brushes past me?”
“Yo,” Mark sounds concerned now. “Brushes past you? Like, it’s just the accidental skinship that makes you horny?”
Jaemin sits up now, wanting to prove himself innocent despite the words he uttered just seconds ago. “You have to understand, I think she’s doing it on purpose.”
“I’ve seen your place Jaemin. The staff counter seems like a tight fit, I don’t know how she can be doing these things on purpose.” Jaemin huffs at that, falling back onto his bed again. He doesn’t know how to explain to his best friend that he isn’t delusional, so he just mutters a ‘whatever’ and tries tickling him, wanting him to lose the game and get last place.
Tumblr media
“Yup, your order is just right here. So it’s just the large special frie—” His voice gets stuck in his throat repeating back the order to the customer when he feels a figure pressed up against his back, and with a glance to the side he sees you leering over, looking at the slip he holds in his hand. When he makes eye contact with you, you barely give back a nod of your head, encouraging him to continue reading.
“Sorry. Uhm, just the large special fried rice, and two servings of the spring rolls,” You lean in even more, and Jaemin can only thank the great heavens above for the bit of privacy that the takeaway counter provides. He feels the plush of your breasts pressing against him, leaning against him while you reach over below the counter to some pens, opening the notebook of table reservations and writing in a new booking.
He only messes up putting in the total price of the order twice on the machine, before the customer picks up his food, leaving you two behind the counter. Just as he’s about to turn around and say something, you separate yourself from him, patting him on his shoulder and closing the notebook shut.
The first thing he does is find his bearings, as he clutches a hand at his chest, then his neck, and lastly his ears, feeling how hot they were. Next, he has to somehow find a way to see if he just made that whole scenario up. Looking at where you now were, which was at a table, conversing with a customer, he was a few seconds away from losing his mind. But his thoughts were confirmed when you glanced a look at him, the corner of your lips lifting ever so slightly before you continue speaking to the table.
Jaemin doesn’t know how long he can last.
Tumblr media
He now knows how long he can last.
Unsurprisingly, it’s not long at all. He doesn’t know if what you’re doing is on purpose, or he’s just infatuated with you enough to now notice these things, but all he can blame it on is the fact that it’s been some time since he last got laid, and so that’s why he’s getting flustered by your proximity these days.
But he also thinks that you might be doing some things on purpose; like squeezing past him in the tight margin of the staff counter to wipe some inconspicuous water stain, bodies brushing against each other in a tight squeeze, or inspecting his hand for too long after he’s delivered a sizzling plate of Mongolian lamb to the table, in search for an injury you both know is not there if he hasn’t already blatantly dropped the whole dish onto the table. Or that one time when you both went to the cold room, with him reaching up for the carton of beers while you kneel to get the soft drinks, side to side. You had momentarily lost your balance while pulling out the boxes from the back, resulting in your hand clutching at his pants, wanting to regain your balance.
“Oh, sorry,” Your words are a clear contrast between your actions, as your hands linger on for longer, lashes fluttering when you look up at him, the light of the cold room twinkling in your eyes. Jaemin swears he feels your hands squeeze ever so slightly before you let go, shuffling out of the room with a carton tucked by your side.
He doesn’t know how to confront you about it; it’s not that he doesn’t enjoy the sudden burst of attention he’s receiving from you, it’s just that it’s both not enough and too much. He wants more but he doesn’t want to risk popping a boner while taking a sixty-year-old woman’s order.
Every time he thinks he’s got you cornered, something always comes along to save you, like the call of a customer, or Kun coming through the curtains to get some hot water, even though his sightings are as common as blue moons.
So when Jaehyun asks you two to restock some of the items into the storage room as a part of your closing shift, Jaemin thinks the opportunity is basically being graced into the palm of his hands.
“The stuff might be a bit heavy, so be careful with your posture when picking up the boxes,” Jaehyun tuts, scrubbing his wok clean. “And remember to lodge something between the door, it still gets stuck from the inside. Don’t go home too late, but also don’t half-ass things as well.” Jaemin almost shivers when he hears her mom echoing back the same things to him in his head.
“Jaemin, do you know that door wedge we have at the back? You can use that, sometimes even I forget. Kun’s trying his best with the handle.” He steps over the freshly mopped places, going past and at the cashier, placing your tips in your dedicated storage boxes.
“Okay we get it Jaehyun, but if you keep speaking we won’t be done unti—” The front door shuts before you can finish what you were saying, but you only let out a light sigh before finishing up with the mopping, with Jaemin drying the cutlery with a towel.
“I’m gonna start with the boxes first,” Jaemin nods his head at you, seeing you go through the back door and towards the storage room. Jaehyun and Kun were kind enough to place a few boxes inside, but there were some still littered outside.
When a few minutes pass and Jaemin is all done, he still sees the extra boxes outside, not having moved a bit. He calls for your name, just to see if you’re back there.
“Yeah, I’m here, just—” You grunt, balancing the box on your knee as you take its contents out, placing them on the shelf. “Trying to sort this. Can you help me with the boxes outside? Be careful with the door, I have my shoe lodged there.” Jaemin rolls his eyes at the third reminder of the day, before shutting the lights off from inside the restaurant and picking up the boxes near the door, stacking them on top to only use one trip to the storage room. The light from within shines a silver lining across the now dimmed restaurant, as Jaemin nudges the door open with his leg, careful to avoid your shoe as you had advised.
He places the boxes down with a groan, straightening up and stretching his back. “That was a piece of cake,” He smiles cheekily at you, to which you barely react, handing him the box you were balancing, opting to take the items out from his hands, making the process more efficient.
“Are you having fun?” Jaemin speaks again, not letting the silence between you two stretch out for too long.
“With putting these things away? Not exactly my definition of fun,” You look at him questioningly, picking up another item while glancing at him.
“Not with the packages,” He shakes the one in his hand for emphasis. “I meant ever since that night at the park, where I called you cute—”
“Pretty,” You mutter, and the word slightly shocks you both, as Jaemin sees your shoulders stiffen. You have been doing everything on purpose, because you, too, put some meaning into his attempts.
“You keeping tally on how I compliment you?” putting the box down, he opts to look at your face as he says this. It’s not every day that he gets to tease you like this, so he uses this opportunity to rile you up a bit as you do to him, body inching closer to yours.
You feel the heat radiating off of him and onto your back, as you place down the last item in your hand on the shelf and turn around, only to be startled at the proximity of you two, Jaemin inching closer with the box discarded at the side. This close to him, your eyes tilt up to look at his, mischievous iris’ grinning back at you.
“I don’t…” Jaemin’s eyes glance at your lips as you start, parted open now as your mind blanks on what to say next. The distance between your bodies shortens, and you feel yourself craving for something. A simple touch of his hand at your sides, the heat of his breath at your cheek, the soft push of his lips against yours.
Your tongue brushes the corner of your lip at that thought, an action Jaemin can’t miss with how close you two are.
“You don’t? Don’t what, don’t know what I’m talking about? Finish your sentence pretty,” Jaemin’s hand raises, and your chest flutters at the anticipation of his touch, only for it to deplete when he places it on the wall beside your shoulder, getting closer and closer.
You want to scream, needing him to just do something, anything, but your body still inches back, wanting to see how far either of you can prolong this. Jaemin notices your game, leaning his head in and bringing his lips to your ear.
“Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything for you, just gotta have you use your words, baby.” At this your eyes flutter, fists clenching at your sides to gather up the courage as his warm breath fans against your neck.
“Can you kiss me?” Your eyes look at his as you push his body back by his shoulders, wanting to look at him as you ask for him, for more. Smile slowly softening, he leans in and places a peck onto your lips, plush skin pressed against you, both of your eyes closing shut. Before you get to do anything else, he parts back slowly, seemingly done. But you’ve barely even started.
“More,” You mutter before placing your arms around his shoulders, pushing both of you closer to one another as you lean in, kissing his lips once again, catching him by surprise. His lips are only still for a split second, before he reciprocates, pushing against you, giving you exactly what you asked for.
“Your hands, please,” You mutter in between as they slowly turn from innocent pecks to open-mouthed kisses, your own hands coming to his biceps, wanting him to touch you.
“Where, baby?” He sighs against you, hands grasping yours, ready to be guided.
“Everywhere,” You clasp your hands together, before grabbing his wrists, placing one at your waist and the other underneath your boob, arching your back in encouragement and contempt of finally having him closer. And Jaemin listens well, hands squeezing and thumbing at your body over your clothes skin, before roaming them around. Slithering one behind your back, pushing your body flush against his, chests brushing as he rushes to kiss you more, lips pressing against you feverishly. Your arms wrap around his neck and shoulders, wanting your boobs to be pressed against him fully, nipples perked with arousal from him, having the both of you pushed back and against the wall as he follows your lead of wanting to be all over each other.
Except walls don’t click shut.
But Jaemin either doesn’t notice or pays it no mind, continuing his quest of ravaging your lips, not that you mind, as he squeezes the flesh of your boob and brushes a finger over your clothed nipples, biting lightly onto your bottom lip as your mouth parts slightly from the pleasure, soothing it with a swipe of his tongue.
“Jaemin,” You try calling for him, voice coming out a bit hoarse as you pull back slightly. He takes that as a sign to venture more.
“What is it, hmm? Want me to go lower?” He doesn’t wait for your reply as he angles his head down towards your neck, breath tickling against your skin as he nips at it lightly.
“No, Jaemin. There’s—” He chuckles at you, looking into your eyes with a smirk now adorning his face. He raises his eyebrows at you while he scans your body pressed against his, and that shouldn’t affect you as much as it did.
“What, does my pretty baby want more?” his smile now turns slightly giddy, placing a sweet kiss on your lips before bringing both hands to your sides, squeezing slightly making you react to the sensitive spot being handled. “I can’t fuck you here, as much as I’d love to. But I don’t wanna be looking at a box of fortune cookies—”
“Jaemin, we just closed the door.” And you physically see Jaemin react to this, as he processes your words with a confused look, before the light in his eyes dims and his face falls, looking frantically between you and the door behind you. He searches at the bottom of the door where you had lodged your shoe, only to see it past the frame, squeezed from the pressure of your bodies against the door.
He’s about to apologise profusely, mind scrambling to think of a way he can get you two out. But before he can get too far, you plant a kiss on his cheek, and another one on his lips when he turns his head to look at you. You let out a light sigh as his hands find themselves back onto your body, pushing your hands towards his jacket, wanting it off. He shucks it off and throws it behind, hands grabbing at you again as you bring your fingers to rake at the hair at his neck.
“But—” Jaemin cuts himself off with a whimper when your hand grazes under his shirt, the cold press of your fingers against his warm stomach, fingers splaying themselves against his taut muscles, grazing your nails lightly making his body flush even further.
“Fuck, the door,” He tries again, but falls short as his head falls against your shoulder when your fingers linger past the seam of his pants.
“Later, I need to feel you,” You mutter. “Someone will come by tomorrow morning anyway,”
“Oh, fuck.” Jaemin curses as you palm his dick over his pants, his hips bucking up and into your touch, wanting more of you against him. His hand pushes your shirt up, tucking it before he slips his fingers behind your back, reaching for your bra and taking it off once the hooks are undone. His hands cup at your boobs, vision glazed over you as he squeezes them together. He leans in with his mouth parted, looking up at you and making eye contact, whining slightly in lieu of asking for your permission. It’s hard to wait for your word when he’s just as desperate, wanting your touch and scent all over him.
“Jaemin, please,” You pant, hand flying to his hair and gripping softly, scratching your fingers against his scalp as an initiative. “Make me feel good, I want your mouth on me,”
He swipes his tongue against your perked bud, before blowing lightly and saying “Anything for my doll,” mouthing at your breast, before closing his lips around your nipple, sucking in as his free hand occupies itself with your other boob, slightly scraping his nail against you before pinching your tit. The pain and pleasure shoots through your body, as you moan his name, nails scratching his head.
Your whimpers and whines turn Jaemin on even more, as he swipes at your bud one last time before pulling back, tipping your face back towards him and kissing you again.
“Want your fingers…been thinking about this so much,” You reach for one of his hands, guiding him to the apex of your thighs, looking at him as you press his fingers against where you want him the most. Even through the thick fabric of your pants, the push of his fingers against your core has you whining, happy for some friction but wanting, needing more.
As his hand goes to unzip your pants, he replaces them deftly with his leg instead, pressing his knee against you.
“Fuck,” You sigh, as he presses himself closer to you, body now flushed against yours, thigh stimulating your pussy through your pants, mouth at your cheek, jaw, neck. Jaemin is completely overpowering your senses, yet you want more.
“Pretty doll, letting me do all of this to you.” he pushes your pants down, leaving you in your underwear and your shirt tucked up, fixing it every now and then to pinch at your tits, loving when you keen against him. “Wanting me to do all of this to you. Have you thought about me a lot? Bet you thought about us sneaking off right here so you could suck me off, or maybe thinking about me taking you right behind the counter, forcing yourself to act normal with my cock in you,” He hums against your ear, swiping his tongue against the shell before biting lightly on your lobe, wanting you to remember his touch all over you.
You’re not entirely sure what he's saying, yet you nod your head up and down, moan slipping past your lips at the light swipe of his fingers against your clothed core, doing anything to get him to give you more.
Jaemin chuckles, “Is your mind going blank already? I barely did anything to you baby, do I have to dumb it down for you and remind you?” His condescending tone is the only thing that registers in your head; that and the fact that he’s not doing anything, hands splayed still at your sides, his knee not pressing hard enough against you, with no signs of more.
He leans in and presses a sweet peck against you, before his hand squeezes your cheeks together, an attempt of garnering your attention back.
“If you want something,” He leans in, just a breath away, but moves back when your eyes lock on his lips and lean in. “You gotta tell me. I’ll only do what you want me to, got it?”
Nodding your head, you add a breathy ‘yes’ when Jaemin raises his eyebrows at you.
“Good girl,” He smiles, and it only makes your head just the slightest bit dizzy. But you’re brought back when you feel the press of his thigh against you once more, a friendly reminder of what you’re missing out on.
“I want your fingers,” You start, voice wavering a bit, getting shy from having to voice your dirty thoughts. But the press of his finger pads against you edges you on even more, encouraging you to continue. “Always look so good doing the most mundane things. Want you to fuck me with your fingers, fuck,” Jaemin proves to be a great listener, as he quickly makes work of shoving your underwear aside, commenting how you’ve ‘soaked through your panties and my pants, messy girl’. He rubs against your clit, building up a rhythm, before rubbing his fingers against your folds, soaking them in your juices thoroughly before the pad of his fingers press against your hole, making quick work.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Jaemin grunts at the squeeze of your walls against his two fingers, filling you to the hilt and shallowly pushing. “Bet you would feel so good around my cock,” You moan at his words, eyes falling shut as you rest your forehead against his shoulder, giving him better access to whisper such filthy words to you.
“So fucking dirty, getting off of my fingers in public like this. You’re lucky it’s late, no one gets to see you like this,” His fingers quicken their pace, the hot feeling in your stomach tightening as the palm of his hand smacks against your clit, other hand occupying itself with gripping your ass or tweaking your nipples. “Only I get to see you like this, messy and undone. All mine for the taking.”
“All yours,” You echo back, head burrowing further into his neck. As you feel another finger push into you, his pace making you clench tighter and tighter, you let out a high-pitched whine when his other hand comes down to stimulate your clit. Mockingly, Jaemin repeats back your moan in the same high-pitched voice, twisting the end of it to sound like a question.
“Is my baby close?” He pecks at the side of your forehead, a sweet gesture contrasting the pressure of his fingers against you.
“Please, Jaemin. Don’t stop,” You feel yourself grow hot, storage room now feeling stuffy as you separate from his shoulder, head tilted back against the door as your senses are overwhelmed.
“You’re so hot, fuck.” He smothers the pool of drool gathering at the corner of your lips, spreading it onto your cheek before leaning in for a kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, too close and fucked out to makeout steadily, just wanting to feel him against you. Curling his fingers against you, you feel yourself ripping over the edge as he presses his other hand against your stomach and swipes his tongue over yours, sucking at the tip of your muscle before finishing it off with a peck.
“Let go, pretty. Show me how messy your cunt can get,” Fingers fucking into you, with a final rub and pinch of your clit you break off into a silent moan, hands clutching at his shoulders as you tense up, finally reaching your high. Jaemin’s fingers keep a steady pace as he helps you ride off your high, now going slower than before. But his fingers don’t stop even when you calm down, seeing how far you can go as he overstimulates you.
“Hurts,” You cry, but don’t make a move to stop his ministrations, hips pushing up into his touch, panting against his mouth when he kisses you again, pushing his fingers in and out of you. After a few more seconds though, your whine lilts painfully and you weakly push at his hand, to which he relents as he slows down the pace, before pulling them out carefully.
“It’s gonna feel icky for a bit, so bear with me,” Jaemin softly murmurs, reaching above to a shelf that conveniently holds paper towel rolls. The emptiness that is left emphasises the tiredness you feel, as your shoulders slump and you lean back against the door for further support. Jaemin folds the towel and dabs at your core, cleaning you up to the best of his abilities before he wraps his clean hand around your waist, manoeuvring you to lean against the wall, carefully pulling your shirt down and underwear and slacks back up. He slides the two of you down slowly, and you open your eyes to look at him, tiredness slowly wearing away as your heart flutters at his gestures.
“You okay?” He hums, his back now pressed against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with you as he gently smoothens his hand down your scalp, before cupping your face gently. You nod your head, leaning in and pressing a kiss against him.
“More than okay, that was so hot.” He chuckles at your words, poorly concealing the smug look that overtakes his features.
“I’m glad at least one of us had fun,” He teases, which makes you feel shy, as you spare a glance down to see a chub at the zip of his pants. He waves you off, adjusting himself a bit before sliding his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together.
“With what we did just then? I’ll be able to come for days even just thinking about you,” He laughs softly as you squeeze his hand in warning, before resting your head against his shoulder, with Jaemin reaching over for his jacket discarded earlier on, tugging it over your legs to provide warmth.
“You haven’t made a mistake today,” You mutter, breaking the silence that had settled as you play with his fingers with both your hands. Jaemin can only look at the side of your face as you say this, before getting comfortable and pressing his cheek against your head. “How could I when you have such high standards to meet? I need to be on your good side,” Your scoff holds no mean intentions, glancing at him briefly over your shoulder.
“You’re already on my good side,” He faux gasps.
“You’re telling me you liked me this whole time? I didn’t have to prove myself to you?” Jaemin squeals as he sways side to side, before wrapping himself around you and swaying you along with him.
You’re shy when you speak up again, muttering “I’ve already told you how I thought.. about you,” He tsks as he meets your eyes again, eyes going down to look at your lips that you bite nervously.
“Don’t even think about talking about that, I don’t know how long I can stay working here and pining after you.”
“But… I like— wait. Do you not like working at the restaurant?” Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, Jaemin tenses a bit at the information he let slip. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s ungrateful for your efforts, but the soft gaze that you give to him only soothes him.
“Okay, I’ll be honest. I think you’ve noticed by now that I’m not the most, flawless, person ever.”
“You’re telling me that you’ve made a few mistakes? No way,” He whines at your tease, as you bite your lip to contain your laughter, nodding your head to get him to continue.
“I’m just not really good at keeping part-time jobs like this. Things that need me to physically and actively do things. I once got fired from a scouts guidance group because I would give badges to the kids when they asked.”
“…Aren’t scout leaders there by volunteer? How can they fire you?”
“That’s my point!” He grumbles against you, bringing your head back down to his shoulder when you lift yourself to look at him, not wanting to look at you directly in your eyes. “And working as a waiter is definitely not easy, because I have to guess when a customer wants to order before they actually call me, and help with food and dietary needs and advice, and be smiling and happy all the time even when the old ladies pinch at my cheek and call me handsome like I’m some three-year-old golden child.” You pat at his bicep soothingly, fingers squeezing as he rambles on, letting him pour it all out.
“Well,” You bring your hands up to your lips, pressing a light kiss at the back of his hand before settling it back against your legs. “If you hate the job so much, why not quit and find something better?”
He stills as you ask this, thinking about your question. He hasn’t ventured far from the initial annoyance of having the job, not thinking of the reasons why he’s staying in contrast with the million reasons why he doesn’t want to. But the tingling feeling left at the back of his hand seems to be enough of an answer.
“Because I get to spend my time with you,” You squeeze your lips together as he says this, not knowing if you should cringe or swell at his words. You giggle lightly when you see him fall shy, hiding his face into your shoulder.
“Okay, then don’t quit,” You quip when you realise he’s not going to come out of hiding anytime soon, opting to play with your laced fingers instead. “Stay with me. You can deal with customers who ask if we have duck on our menu even when we clearly don’t, and try your best to not burn your finger on the sizzling plates, or get locked in the storage room overnight.” Jaemin feels bittersweet at the scenarios you provide, torn between what he should do.
“Or you can ask me out and then quit,” You shrug, conveniently avoiding his sudden gaze on you as he sits up. “Up to you,”
“I can do that?” You glare at him.
“I’m gonna blow up, Jaemin. I can’t believe you haven’t—” He stops you with a peck to your lips, now grinning like a maniac. “Can I be your boyfriend?”
“What will I gain?”
“Uhm… unlimited head?” You clench your grip on his hand harder. “...And a very deep and meaningful emotional connection where we fill each other's gaps and lift our—”
“Unlimited? Can you promise?” He’s about to agree without a second thought, before he sees you raise a suspicious eyebrow at him.
“..Yes?”
“Then yes, you can be mine.” He sighs contentedly now, cuddling himself back into you.
“I can’t wait to quit.”
Tumblr media
You’re not sure when you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by the sound of a door hinge and a sudden shine of light. You try to bring your hand up to shield the onslaught of the sunshine, but the weight on your hand reminds you of your position, with Jaemins head tucked on your shoulder and yours stacked on top, hands still laced and legs slightly tangled into each other. With a squint of your eyes, you look up at the figure standing at the door.
Jaehyun’s facial expression doesn’t change much, other than the slight parting of his mouth. To you, this means that not only is he shocked still, but also somehow angry and maybe … confused? If the left side of his lip is slightly tilted down; you’re still trying to learn.
“Jaemin,” Your hoarse voice calls, shaking the boy next to you lightly to wake him up. He whines, lips mumbling gibberish into your shoulder.
“The doors open, Jaem,” That wakes him up a bit more, as he squints towards the open door.
“Oh,” He says, and then Jaehyun clears his throat. “...Oh,” The two of you rise slowly, as Jaemin places his jacket over your shoulders.
“So,” Jaehyun starts when the three of you step out of the room, the two of you now standing like students being punished for their wrongdoings. It takes all his willpower for Jaemin to not raise his hands in fists over his head.
“Funny you ask, boss. Remember when you told me not to close the door?” Jaemin thought he started off strong before he saw you looking at him with wide eyes. Jaehyun’s lip tilts to the left.
“How could you ignore the only warning I gave you? Not only did you lock yourself in that room, but her too? You know how dangerous that is, what if we didn’t have a Sunday shift to open for? This liability costs you, Jaemin.” At that, the boy feels his posture straighten.
“Am I..?” Jaehyun's frown is the strongest expression Jaemin has ever seen. He feels like doing a backflip right now.
“Fired? Of course—” And it probably is rude for him to whoop as loud as he did, but Jaemin is on cloud nine, having bagged a person like you and being liberated from having to mop the floors like clockwork. He cups your cheeks and kisses you square on your lips, laughing at the surprised squeak you let out and the bliss he feels. Taking and shaking Jaehyun’s hand, he turns and walks out of the place.
Jaehyun sighs. “This is who you were rooting for?”
Your cheeks feel hot from the sudden public display of affection, before shrugging. “He’s cute. And he’s always trying his best.” You try as your hand clutches at the sleeve of the jacket he’s lent you.
Tumblr media
Ever since being fired from the restaurant, Jaemin feels like he now has the best of both worlds, going to the restaurant after your shift to pick you up, or spending time with you as your boyfriend throughout the week, not feeling like he only has to look forward to a shift to see your face. You’re also happy with this shift in your relationship, spending your time with him freely.
But Mark isn’t.
“I don’t know why you couldn’t have asked her out and kept your job. You don’t even get to use your twenty percent employee discount.”
“I mean, if I’m an ex-employee then I can’t see why I couldn’t.” Mark grunts as he smacks at Jaemin, leaving the latter with a pout on his lip as he rubs at his shoulder.
“I miss the Mongolian lamb, man. Can we not go back at all?” Jaemin thinks about it briefly, his mind going back to the restaurant and how you’re probably working your Friday shift at the moment. “I don’t see why not,” he hums, thinking about planning a day when both he and Mark can drop by, but he is dragged to his feet and is being pushed to wear his shoes and shrug on a jacket, before he is out the door with Mark guiding him through it all.
Tumblr media
“Welcome to Tao Village. Oh, hi,” You look up from the slip of the phone order you just took, seeing Jaemin and Mark standing at the door. Jaemin’s lips break into a smile as he sees you, already enamoured even when you’re in your work uniform. Mark merely smiles and nods his head as a greeting, before lifting up two fingers, gesturing for a table for them.
As the boys take their seats, you go up to them with a bottle of water and ask Mark if he wants his Mongolian lamb dish for today. He clasps a hand to his chest, touched. “I can’t believe you remembered.”
“It’s all you order, really.” You write down his order into the slip in your hand, before looking at your boyfriend, who’s been gazing at you fondly, barely concealing adoration. You tap at the menu in front of him, encouraging him to voice his order.
“I want you,” Jaemin’s smile is menacing as he says this. Mark visibly shrinks in his seat, but you barely blink. “Gross, dude,”
“A dish's name, Jaem. Or I’ll tell Jaehyun that you’re here.” At that he pouts, leaning back before asking for fried rice, and a glass of red wine.
Mark gets his dish on the sizzling plate, and Jaemin spends two whole minutes trying to make sure that your fingers didn’t get caught on to the hot pan. You smack at his hand to get him back to his food, to which he flings his hand back, making impact with his glass and conveniently spilling the red drink all over. Mark blinks twice at the scene unfolding, pausing when he almost shoved a piece of lamb into his mouth, before continuing when he sees the wine only seep into the tablecloth and not anywhere near him.
Jaemin looks between the cloth and your expression. “Look at what you did,”
“What I did? Your hand was the one that smacked into the glass. You didn’t even try to catch it?” Jaemin ignores your words, waving at your words as if they’re merely pesky flies.
“It’s okay, I can forgive you but you have to compensate in another way,” He smirks at you, before his fingers slowly inch towards your waitress' apron wrapped around your waist, thumbing at the fabric tied around you. “Maybe a pretty girl like you can go out with me?”
You smile sweetly, clasping his hands into yours and rubbing your thumb into the back of his hand. You place it down on the table, your smile not dimming as you shake your head. “You have to pay for that, kind sir,” You nod your head in mock shame and guilt. Jaemin’s smile dims as he looks at the red-stained tablecloth.
“It’s part of the Tao Village policy.”
Tumblr media
OKAY the part where jaemin *mocks.. u hehe was completely inspired by @/sunpopz haechan fic called ‘free falling’ !! give that a read bc its soso good
thank you for reading! let me know if you enjoyed it &lt;3
2K notes · View notes
springseasonie · 8 months
Text
Auralism | PJS (M)
Tumblr media
Voice actor Jisung x fem reader
Part 2. Part 3.
Summary: Auralism is to be sexually aroused by sound, which includes people's voices.
Warnings: sexual content, mutual masterbation, Jisung is talking you through it hehe
Word count: 1,2k
A/N: was getting back into audio porn and it inspired me :)) I love Jisung voice and if y'all didn't know about audio porn, reddit and quinn are top teir. Get into ittttt. Feedback is loved and appreciated 🩷🩷
Tumblr media
This was something you never told anyone you were into. You preferred to keep this particular interest to yourself, not because you were embarrassed but because you wanted to keep him to yourself. "Him" is a man that goes by the name of LilJisung on Reddit. You had no idea what he looked like, no one did. You just knew his voice.
His voice did things to you no one could even imagine. It was deep, soft, calm. Jisung had you under a spell. Every time you heard his voice, even a tiny sigh, your heart would jump. Sometimes you really wanted to know what he looked like, if his voice matched his face or if he looked like anything you imagined. But right now, you were laying in your bed, headphones in as you scrolled through your phone to find one audio you never listened to (and you've heard almost all of them).
Just when you were about to give up, you saw something that you've never seen before peak your interest. The title of the audio was "couldn't sleep". You pressed on it and laid your phone flat, expecting for it to be regular audio, but you couldn't even be more wrong.
"Hey guys."
The butterflies erupted in your stomach, hands immediately clutching your shirt at the sound of his voice. God, he was so sexy without even trying, making you go crazy and all he said was 2 words.
"As you can tell by the title, I couldn't sleep. So I decided to record something. If I sound a little different, it's because I'm laying down and the mic is attached to my chain."
Your body shivers with anticipation, taking in every single word with sinful intent. In all honesty, you were barely listening to him, the sheer tone of his voice turning your core into a river. You were shamelessly obsessed with the man. Your hands were moving on their own, fingers tracing the middle of your chest as you laid on your back, moving right between your legs.
"I'm gonna do something a bit different. We're close, right? Well we should be. I've made you cum without even having touched you many times I bet."
And he was about to do it again. You hadn't even started stimulating yourself yet, but Jesus. The things he says are enough to make you cum untouched. His deep, but careful voice and way of speaking – it turned you on so much. He knew his audience so well, always listening well to their comments and loving everything everyone had to say.
"I want you guys to touch yourself as you listen to me touch myself and talk to you."
You listened to the faint sound of him stroking his lubed cock through your noise canceling headphones, sinful sounds ticking your ear drums. You were salivating, legs getting stuck to your sheets as your body was getting hotter and hotter. His soft sighs were beginning to really excite you, mind reeling from all the sounds.
"I hope you're in a comfortable position right now. I bet you look so pretty. If you have clothes on..fuck.. take all of them off. I want to feel as if you're here with me."
You opened your eyes moving off your bed at the speed of light. The audio continued, his soft moans and sighs permeating your ears as you took your clothes off. Finally getting everything off, you laid in your bed again, legs spread wide.
"I really, really love doing these," he starts. "Fuck..I'm so turned on right now." You hear him gulp, smacking his teeth as he opens his mouth, letting out a shaky moan as he stroked himself faster. Moans and groans fell from his lips, tickling you in all the right places.
"You know how much I like it when you follow directions, so let me guide you pretty girl."
Your brows furrowed, core getting even more wet at his sultry voice.
"Run your hands all over your body baby. Just like that. And keep those legs open for me. I bet you look so fucking pretty with your pussy on display for me."
Your breath was shaky, his voice sending you into overdrive. You haven't even started touching yourself yet, but you were ready to let go at any moment. The raspy whispers, dirty words in a calm innocent tone – you needed him.
"Now take those pretty hands and put them between your legs. Just- oh fuck. Fuck this feels so good."
You started rubbing your clit, brows furrowing almost immediately from how overly sensitive you were. The sound of his breath quickening made your stomach do flips, the slight rasp in his throat as he tried to keep his loud groans down.
"I wish I could see you right now, touch you and make you feel good. You want me to make you feel good?"
You nodded, slipping completely into your element. At this point, you're in a parasocial relationship with this guy. He's the only man that has made you cum and you've never touched him, let alone seen him. The way he spoke sent you into a frenzy, it felt like he was actually there with you.
"Slip those cute fingers in for me, pretty girl. They're probably not as long as mine. You probably thought about it haven't you, hm? Me with my fingers deep in your cunt?"
You slipped your fingers in, fingering yourself at a good pace as soon as you started. Your eyes were shut, moans echoing in the room. You couldn't even hear yourself due to the noise canceling headphones you had on. Your other hand made its way to your chest, rolling your nipple between your fingers. You pinched and pulled the sensitive bud while his voice rushed your eardrums.
"Fuck, I want you to go faster with me okay?"
You fingered yourself faster, moving your hand from your nipples and circling it on your clit in unison with your other hand. You were in heaven at this point, overstimulated to the brim. Your moans and whines become louder with him, unable to control yourself.
"Fuck you're doing so well. You always do well for me," he said, voice a bit whiny. "Shit, I'm probably gonna cum soon," he chuckled softly mixed with his moans. The sound of him stroking himself faster rang through your ears, lighting the flame in your stomach. His breathing hitched, whines going up in pitch with every breath he took.
"I-I want you to cum with me okay," he whimpered breathlessly, deep voice cracking from the pleasure. "Please cum with me. Please, please, please."
"Oh my god," you whined. At this point, you fully stopped fingering yourself and rubbed your aroused bud. Your jaw dropped as you threw your head back. Your other hand gripped your sheets hard, knuckles lightening in color.
"I'm cumming, fuck." You listened to him cum, his moans loud in your ears as you came at the same time. "Yes, keep cumming for me. God, I wish I could see you."
Your body shuddered, muscles tensing so hard it hurt. Yet again, he gave you one of the best orgasms of your life. Breathing shakily, you plopped down on your bed weakly once again listening to his breathing.
"Well that was fun." His laugh was raspy and light, almost as if he wasn't whispering the dirtiest thing in your ear a second ago. "Thank you for spending more time with me. I hope you came as much as I did, pretty girl. Hope to see you next time."
And with that, the audio finished, and thankfully, so did you.
716 notes · View notes
liliansun · 1 year
Text
I got you and you got me - L. Donhyuck
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: forgetting the paperwork you needed for the meeting, your current boss has some new information to share with you and seeing how you were already late, today couldn’t get much worse, could it?
pairing: ceo!haechan + secretary!fem reader ft. dreamies, johnny (127) and my best friend 🫶
warnings: 18+ minors dni. smut, angst, swearing, slight fluff?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), creaming (use protection kids!), pet names (baby is used), hyuck is kinda a douche at some point, hyuck is cocky in the beginning
wc: 13k
a/n: this is like the second time I’ve ever written smut so please 🤡 do not come for me I tried my best also shout out to ash for the line she suggested <3
Tumblr media
“Did you hear about the new ceo transfer?” A thump echoes throughout your apartment as a result of you falling over on your bedroom floor while trying to zip up your pants and put on your left heel. “Ouch—how could I not? It’s all anyone has been talking about.” With a huff, you push yourself off the floor just enough to get on your hands and crawl around searching for the shoe you’re missing. “I heard he’s cute, like really cute.” Rolling your eyes, you decide to ignore the giddy tone in her voice.
Your best friend was one of observation, she always was the first to find out who was doing who and what was going on around her—especially in the office. “As cute as that new intern you’ve been eyeing?” You can hear the slight disrespect in her scoff as she pushes herself back from her desk. “Actually no, no one can be as cute as Jaemin from the seventh floor, but if you’re asking me, his little friend Mark is equally as cute as Jaemin.” 
“I thought we were talking—ouch—about the ceo?” You were trying to reach underneath your bed, the space between the floor and the railing wasn’t big enough for your head to fit which ended in your cheek and temple being pressed against the cold metal; still wasn’t a very comfortable position to be in. “Oh yeah, Haechan, he’s quite a card. So far all the girls on the floor are gushing about how badly they want him in bed.” Finally reaching the heel you’ve been clawing at for what felt like hours, you pull it from underneath the bed and lean back on your knees with a victorious smile. “Yes, finally!” She giggles, typing away on her keyboard vigorously as she assumes you got whatever you were so desperately looking for. “I hate to interrupt this moment of triumph, but aren’t you late?” 
“Oh shit, fuck—save me a coffee!” Scurrying off the floor in an attempt to get the necessities to leave as soon as possible, you fail to realize the manila envelope laying dormant on your desk by the window. Joy, the best friend who was just keeping you company as you fail to get yourself together, per usual, hangs up the line knowing that you’d probably forget she was still there while you run around your apartment. Today didn’t seem like it was going to be a good one. 
For starters, you woke up late and nearly broke a bone or two trying to get ready when Joy called you making sure you were still alive. Then, you forgot the most important piece of your day carelessly back at your apartment which, unbeknownst to you at this moment, is going to bite you in the ass. All the taxi’s in your area seem to think you’re invisible for some reason because despite how hard you’re flagging them down, they drive past you like the dreams you once had. 
Deciding to take the train before you’re ultimately fired, you nearly miss the last one for the hour going in the direction you need and when you do finally get on, you’re squished between a big guy who looks like he eats people your size and a literal child who doesn’t look too pleased to be next to you. Thankfully the commute to work isn’t long and you’re off the bus and running through the subway to try and have enough time to salvage your job. Where you grew up and ultimately the background you came from was always strict on being punctual. You were hardly ever late and that was something you took pride in. You always tried to have enough time to make sure you were somewhat decent looking, had everything you needed and even if you weren’t mentally prepared, at least you looked like you were and that was good enough for you. 
So when you’re rushing into the multi-story building that holds about as many employees as you get on your paycheck, you’re definitely getting some looks of concern while you’re running and almost tripping towards the elevator. Impatiently tapping your foot on the floor while waiting for the elevator, you feel a presence coming you way and you’re just hoping it’s no one you know that’ll try and start a conversation with you. “Got somewhere to be?” The voice beside you wasn’t one you were familiar with, his soft yet deep tone was one you were sure you’d remember if you heard it before. “Uh, yeah, I’m kinda a little late.” Flicking your wrist, your watch falls forward, revealing the time and how you’re more than just a little late.
“Rough morning?” Turning your head back to him, you meekly nod before avoiding awkward eye contact. “Yeah, I didn’t sleep well I guess, but the CEO can be a dick so I’m in a rush.” As the elevator dings, people come stepping out as you try and maneuver yourself into the elevator. The guy who was trying to keep up small talk snickers to himself as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you getting in or what?” Somewhat composing himself, he straightens his back and tugs down on the edge of his blazer. “Top floor, please.” As he steps in, you click on his floor as requested and the floor you work on. “So tell me, what about the CEO makes him such a dick?” 
Closing your eyes to take in a deep breath, you weren’t feeling the best to keep feeding into his questions. “Look, I don’t wanna sound rude or anything, but I don’t know you and seeing how I’m already late, can you please just stop talking?” The look on his face isn’t one you can read easily and that somewhat makes you nervous. He almost looks displeased with your reaction, yet amused by how you shut down the conversation. The way he pushes his tongue into his cheek has you trying harder to pick apart what’s going on in his head. The ding of the elevator pulls you from your thoughts and you pull your eyes from his unreadable expression and forward as you’re back to rushing away through the office floor. 
Your first stop is to Joy’s office, double checking with her to see if the CEO started his meeting yet or if you still had time to breathe before being ridiculed for everything you did. Joy was one of the top people who ran the social media aspect for the company. Between her and a couple of other people, they all made sure to handle the media that’s put out about the company, the social media accounts looked good and stayed coherent and most importantly, ran the website. Of course they had employees underneath them that helped them do their job best, but the new intern is surely giving her a run for her money. 
A soft few knocks were delivered on her door before you peaked your head in to look around and make sure everyone had their clothes on still. She’s sitting at her desk, brows furrowed as she’s focused in on whatever she’s doing and the bun in her hair resting high despite a few strands that have fallen down onto her face. When you fully step in is when she looks up from the screen and an instant smile is spread across her face. “Look who decided to show up for work.” Rolling your eyes with a mirroring smile, you close the door behind you and walk around to one of the seats she has set up for when she needs leisure time over business. “Oh shut up, I damn near died coming into this building today and I don’t think I get paid enough to cover the funeral expenses.” 
Pushing her chair back, she walks around from behind her and joins you in the chairs adjacent from where she was just sitting. “I’d cover the rest, of course, unless I’m too busy planning my wedding with Jaemin.” Snickering, you lean forward to slap her on the knee. “You’ve had him here for what, two weeks at best, and you’re already planning a wedding?” Laughing equally, if not harder than you, she leans back in the chair and merely shrugs with crossed arms. “Who knows, he visits me often and I can’t tell if he’s trying to suck up to me or if he’s really just that desperate for this job.” Tapping your chin, you look off at the wall where pictures of you two and a few other friends decorate her office. “Hmm, maybe both.” Gasping, she grabs a pillow from the seat beside her and flings it across to hit you on the chest. 
“I can’t believe you said that, for that I hope the new CEO eats your ass alive.” Oh yeah, you forgot that’s why you came to her office in the beginning. “Speaking of new CEO, is the meeting starting yet or do I still have time to live?” As if the realization of the envelope left in your apartment was a wall made out of bricks, you’d be ultimately crushed and probably left with no chance of survival once it hit you that you left it behind. “Oh my gosh, I completely forgot the papers for today’s meeting.” Covering your face, you groan as loudly as the position you were in allowed. “I can’t save you on this one, that’s department crossing and I don’t feel like losing my job today.” With an apologetic smile, she reaches over and rubs your arm as you mentally prepare yourself for being chewed out later on. 
A couple knocks on her door pulls you both from your shared moment over your downward spiral. “Miss Joy, Miss y/n, I was told to come let Miss y/n know that the meeting is to start soon and she’s needed.” Both you and Joy look over to the boy who merely peaked his head through the crack of the door. “Thank you Jaemin.” Her tone was overly sweet as she locks gazes with him before he leaves her sight. “Duty calls, I guess.” Groaning as you push yourself up and out of the chair, she does the same and waits for you to pass her before following behind you. “Good luck out there soldier, you’re gonna need it.” With a heavy sigh, you nod and open your arms to take her in for a hug. She steps in, pulling you against her to engulf you in her embrace. The soft hint of vanilla and cinnamon fill you nostrils as you rest your chin atop of her shoulder. “You’re going to do great.” She mumbles against your hair while rubbing you back with encouragement. Pulling back from the hug, both of your arms slide down one anothers till you’re holding each others hands.
Giving them a gentle squeeze, she gives you one final reassuring smile before you slip through the entrance of her door and make your way back to the elevators. “Miss Joy wanted me to give you this Miss y/n.” Jaemin, the intern your beloved friend has been eyeing since the moment he first stepped into this building for his interview, met you at the door with a cup in his hand that had your signature drink printed on the order sticker. “Thank you, Jaemin.” Smiling knowingly at him, you take the cup from his hand and enter the elevator with the worry that your fatal mistake from this morning will cost you your job. Now you might be wondering, what even is your job? Unlike Joy who has her own office and obviously gets paid more than you, you work for the CEO directly. In layman's terms, you’re his secretary. Everything he emails you, you do the dirty work of digging into and finding out everything and anything there is to know about it. Upcoming rivalry company? He’ll send you the name of their CEO and that alone is enough for you to dig into them and tell him if they are a threat or not along with other useful information he might need to know.
Usually, he’ll tell you if he wants something printed off or not and you’ll grab it and bring it into his office, seeing how your desk is right in front of it. It’s easy for some to confuse you with his assistant, that poor girl has it harder than you, and you’re almost glad that you aren’t in the position she’s in. That’s why you’re scared shitless due to the important paperwork you left behind at home, and I know what you’re thinking, why can’t you just print off the papers once you get to your desk? Well, your CEO thought it would be a good idea to send to your personal email instead of the work email you use on this computer in case of any suspicious activity that might’ve tried to arise while you weren’t here.
As you’re getting off the elevator, completely forgetting about the drink in your hand, you take rushed steps toward the door that lead to the room where almost every meeting is held. When pushing the door open, you do your best to stay as quiet as possible so that you can make you way to the back where the assistant usually stands. “Come on in, Miss y/n.” Scrunching your face up, you halt in your steps when CEO Suh recognizes your presence. “I’m so glad to have you join us.” Your heart is beating out of your chest, eyes scanning some of the familiar and non familiar faces in the seats at the table. When you recognize the guy from the elevator, you lock eyes with him and he can tell by the look on your face that he was the last person you expected to see here. “Forget something, Miss y/n?” Johnny’s voice snaps you out of the million questions you were asking yourself. “Uhm, yes, I’m sorry Mr. Suh, it seems that I forgot the papers you requested for today’s meeting.” Leaning against the table with his elbows propped up, Johnny is searching your face from across the room and its taking everything in you to not crumble to the ground. 
“Good thing we still have the powerpoint slide.” He laughs as he leans back in the chair and turns toward the screen behind him as the other men around him join in on the laughter. The meeting starts and not shortly after, Johnny wraps it up with closing statements and a thick layer of his charm on a finishing note. “Thank you all for coming, please feel free to email me for any questions you may have.” Both you and the assistant stay put while Johnny shakes the hands of every man in the room on their way out. You didn't fail to notice the guy from the elevator watching your every move throughout the meeting and he didn’t seem to be shameful about it either. “Someone found their dinner I see.” The assistant snickered as she whispered it into you ear, making the heat of your body turn your cheeks into a light shade of pink as you roll your eyes and sip on your neglected drink in you hand. By the time everyone had cleared the room, both you and the assistant started to clean off the table and readjust the chair in preparation for the next meeting. 
“Girls, walk with me please.” Johnny was usually playful when he wasn’t talking business, so for both of you to feel the firmness in his tone made you nervous. After making sure everything was back where it was supposed to be, the three of you exited the room and slowly made a round of the floor. “You know I love you both right?” With agreeing hums from the both of you, you started to get an uncomfortable feeling of where this conversation was headed. “Without the two of you, this company wouldn’t be where it is today. Not saying that the other department head’s don’t do a good job, because they do.” 
“So what exactly are you saying, Mr. Suh?” You’re more relieved that his assistant had the guts to say it before you did, but also scared of the answer. “Seeing how the whole building has been buzzing about the news of the new CEO, I’m surprised you didn’t catch on yet.” Johnny led the two of you around the floor you worked on briefly before redirecting towards his office. “You’re seriously not leaving, are you?” The sigh that escaped his lips confirmed you worst thoughts. “Johnny, tell me this is a joke and you’re only doing this to get back at me for kinda calling you a dick this morning.” 
“You called me a dick? When?”
“Not important right now, what’s important is if you’re leaving then why would you leave us with someone named Haechan?” Just as you and the assistant were about to protest and beg Johnny to reconsider leaving, Johnny pushes his office door open and to much surprise, the guy from earlier is sitting in his chair at the desk. “Ouch, that one is gonna leave a wound.” With his hand over his chest, he pats the spot over his heart when your eyes lock with his. “Speak of the devil—girls, meet your new boss Lee Haechan.” 
You know that moment in cartoons where the characters have overly exaggerated eyes that look like they’re popping out of their heads and their mouths hang down to the floor to show overly shocked they are by the news and/or scene in front of you? That was exactly how both you and the assistant looked, except you eyes and mouths can’t exaggerate like that and the sheer embarrassment floods your cheeks to the point they are a crimson red. “Yeah, that wasn’t your finest moment, y/n.” Immediately covering your mouth to let out the gasp that threatened to escape, you take a moment to let everything settle before composing yourself in hopes to be salvaged for the events from this morning and just now. “She’s got a mouth on her, Johnny, she’s the one I told you about from the elevator ride.” Judging by the smile on Johnny’s face, you can tell he isn't too surprised by whatever events your new boss, Haechan, told him. 
“Yeah, you get used to it pretty quickly, she’s one of the best in this entire company.” Silently, Haechan rakes his eyes up and down your body and if you were anyone else, that alone would’ve had you eating out the palm of his hand. “Are we just going to ignore the reason why you’re leaving us?” The assistant piped up, directing the attention off of you to which you were thankful for. “I’m getting old, I’m starting to want to settle down and maybe even vacation a little to enjoy my youthfulness before I turn into my father and I figured a young and talented guy like Haechan would fit perfectly.” Haechan got up from the desk, moving from behind and opted to stand next to Johnny who was leaning against the front of his desk.
Now that you’ve gotten a better look, more up close, you see why Joy said he was cute. He had a sun-kissed dew to his tan skin and the sharp features that adorn his jaw were one of the many eye catching things about him. Despite him being shorter than Johnny, he was still very tall in the way he carried himself and that helped him stand out in a room full of people. He also had a way of moving and controlling the environment of the room, his voice was too smooth for his own good and his gaze was intimidating, but his presence was relaxing. “I’m guessing you’re his assistant and the one who isn’t shy to holding back is his secretary?” Unsure as to where this could be leading, the both of you silently nod while he moves in closer. Have you ever thought about switching their positions?” Neither of you were sure who he was directing his question, opting to staying quiet while he circles the two of you. “In the beginning, y/n was my assistant, but when we got new hires, she asked to be put on as my secretary and it’s been that way since.”
Haechan was humming, tapping his lips as he walked around the two of you. It felt primal, almost as if he was looking for weak points within you both and choosing what he liked and what he wanted to pick apart. “Come first thing tomorrow morning, switch positions until avised otherwise.” Both you and the assistant gave each other a questioning look, similar to the look Johnny was giving Haechan, but no one rebutted and you both lowered your heads as you turned on your heels and made way for the exit. The rest of the day consisted of you sitting at your desk, doing you job for what felt like the last time till you took you lunch break. Sending off a text to Johnny that you were taking your hour for lunch, he rescinded back with a thumbs up and thanked you for the notice in advance. Usually, you would’ve gone in and told him face to face, but since Haechan was in there with him and he was trying to show him all that was left ot learn, not many people have been back and forth in the office today. 
You opt on going down to the cafe located a few floors down to grab a premade lunch and head back up to Joy’s office to fill her in on the shitshow your life has been. As usual, you give her door a couple light knocks before peaking in, except this time she actually had company inside with her. The image of her body being pressed against Jaemin’s will forever be burned in you mind as you immediately shut the door. The sound alone caught both of their attentions and the two separated instantly. After a couple of minute pass, Jaemin comes out of her office with his shirt now buttoned up and the lipstick your beloved best friend is wearing stained his lips. To much surprise, he didn’t try too hard at removing it as he gave you an apologetic smile before disappearing around a corner. Turning to reattempt to enter the office, you find Joy leaning against the front of her desk with her hand over her mouth as you guess she tries to shake off the embarrassment. “Having fun or should I come back another time and let you continue?” 
She immediately throws up the middle finger as you enter the office laughing, shutting the door behind you and going back over to the seat you occupied earlier. “Anything you’d like to share with the class?” Attempting to fix the hair that you can only assume Jaemin ruined, the blush on her face crept up from her neck. “He was just helping me with some files that needed to be rearranged.” Opening up the lunch you got from the cafe, your eyes flicker up to her as she wipes the smeared lipstick off her face before reapplying. “Seems to me he was trying to rearrange something else.” She laughs, leaning forward to pick off the bits of your lunch you put in the lid for her. “Enough about whether he was going to be doing some rearranging, tell me about the mysterious hot new CEO everyone is dropping their panties for.”
Taking a big bite in, you think of how you yourself would describe him without sounding like every other girl in the building. “Well, to start off he seems really arrogant, not that attractive if you ask me, but he has a sweet smile.” Silent, she simply smiles and waits for you to continue. “He also kind at looked me and Johnny’s assistant like we were steak on a plate and if you ask me, that would’ve been hot if he didn’t do it in such an animalistic way. Oh and the fact that he told us that we’re changing positions starting tomorrow was kinda douchey if you ask me. You let out a huff, shaking your head while recalling the morning’s events. “Sounds to me that you think hes hot.” As you’re finishing up on your lunch and are about near the end of your break, you get up to toss away the container. “That isn’t what I said, all I said was–”
“Yeah yeah, I heard what you said, but I don’t think you heard the way you put it.” Rolling your eyes for what felt like the millionth time, you gave her a quick side hug before making your way towards the door. “Whatever you say, I gotta go back though so I’ll call you tonight if you’re not too busy smooching faces with Jaemin.” Puckering up your lips and making kissing noises at her as she scrunches up her nose at you. “Make fun all you want, at least I’m getting some!” Throwing up a finger at her, she laughs as you slip out of her office unaware of your surroundings. Just as you’re turning around to walk forward, your body collides into something—rather someone—and you go stumbling back a little. As you’re bracing yourself to hit the ground, a pair of hands find their way to your waist and keep you from ultimately becoming friends with the floor. 
With eyes screwed shut, you’re catching the breath that nearly escaped you and soothing your racing heart. As your eyes peek open, you’re way too embarrassed to see none other than Haechan standing in front of you. Well, he was actually holding you, but you’re trying not to focus on the placement of his hands. “In a rush again?” Fighting the urge to not look down at his lips, you’re convinced he can read minds when he darts his tongue out to wet them slowly. Clearing your throat, you immediately readjust yourself once you find the strength to stand on  your own two feet. “I, uh, I’m just gonna go back to my desk.” Coming out in a rush, you practically mumble the words as you brush shoulders with Haechan on your way back. The rest of the day seemed to go fairly smooth and you didn’t see much of your new CEO on your way out.
Tumblr media
Walking in the doors felt weird knowing nothing was going to be as it was, the way you were used to. You spent some time last night looking Haechan up and observing and taking notes about him to sort of prepare yourself for the day. You did some digging on his social media accounts, thanks to the help of Joy of course, and found his go to coffee order. You also found some of his favorite snacks and a couple drinks he had up on his instagram. Planning to have all of this on his desk by the time he came in, you were sure to make somewhat of a better impression on him than you did the day before. This early in the morning, the office is usually pretty empty–so empty that not even Joy would be caught in her office until about another hour or so. As you’re passing by your now old desk, you can’t help but to frown at the lack of life that is on it. You took the picture you had of Johnny, Joy and yourself from a christmas party a couple years back and put in your room instead to give it the same joy that you had looking at it while you work. Knowing that Johnny’s old assistant will now fill it with whatever her heart desires gives you some form of serotonin. 
Pushing the doors open to the office, you’re more than surprised to see Haechan sitting in the chair with his hands glued to his keyboard. “Good morning Mr. Lee.” Your unexpected presence catches Haechan off guard, making him jump a little in his seat when he turns his head toward your direction. “Oh shit–jesus christ y/n.” Seeing him caught off guard brings a little smile to your lips as you lower your head a little to show you’re sorry. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just brought you some stuff.” His attention lingers a little too long on your choice of outfit for the day and judging by the way he’s eyeing you, you start to think there’s something lingering behind his gaze. Moving his attention to the bag in your hand as you approach him, a smile begins to form along his lips.
“Here is a coffee, some snacks I picked up on the way in and a few extra drinks for in case you get thirsty and might be craving one of these.” When you place the bag down on the desk, along with the cup, you take a couple steps back and silently await for what he wants you to do next. Haechan opens the bag, looking inside as the smile on his lips edges further and further towards a grin. “Let me ask you this, Miss y/n, why did you do all of this?” The question caught you off guard, blinking a bit while trying to determine the tone of his voice when he asked. With elbows propped up on the desk, he looks at you expectantly while you internally short circuit. “I’m sorry?”
“Did you take time out of your morning just to go out and get me things I like because you found it within you to be this nice or did you have other intentions with your gifts.” The chair is pushed back when he stands up from behind the desk, walking around to make his way toward you. “I, uh, just wanted to make a good impression on you.” The sentence almost died in you throat when Haechan got close enough to hear you elevated breathing. “So if that was because you simply wanted to make a good impression, what’s this all about, hm?” Motioning his finger to the somewhat sheer shirt you chose to wear, your face immediately burns with embarrassment while you avoid meeting his gaze. “Seems to me that you’re making more of a good impression on me, Miss y/n, some might even say you’re leaving an imprint on me.” Circling around you, Haechan stops once he was standing behind you. “Do you always come off this strong to you assistants or am I special like the other girls, Mr. Lee?” You can’t see the smirk on his face, but you can almost feel it when his hands find their way onto your hips. “Dunno, never had the chance to have such a beautiful assistant like you before.” Scoffing, you turn around to face him and one thing you didn’t fail to miss was the way the dent in the front of his slacks brushed against you. “And give me one reason why I can’t walk out of this room right now and report you to corporate.” There was almost a sickening smile on his face that made your stomach do cartwheels. “Do it baby, the door is right there if you want to leave so bad.” You were now silent, contemplating on if you leave and try to pretend that none of this happened or if you’re really going to give into your human nature and take this relationship with your newly announced CEO on your first day being his assistant. 
Just as you’re about to lean in and capture his lips with your own, a knock at the takes you both away from your thoughts. Haechan let out a heavy sigh as he turned around, holding his hands near his bulge in order to draw attention away from it if needed. You step around him, going to answer the office door. One of the team directors from a couple floors down is standing on the other side, a stack of papers in his hand as he greets you. “Good morning Miss y/n.” Nodding, you step aside and let him in. “Good morning, Mr. Lee if you need me, please let me know.” Simply nodding, you turn to walk away and you’re sure the flushed cheeks that adorn your face right now are a dead give away to what was about to ensue behind those closed doors.
During the rest of the day, you expect a little of what you got this morning and to much surprise, you got the opposite. Well, not quite opposite, but Haechan didn’t come off as direct as he did hours before. Instead, he would send you looks from across the room and if you’re honest, each look he gave you shot straight down to your core. You’re not sure why you got so hot and bothered so quickly over him, but even the slightest touch would send chills down you body. Joy told you that you’re so reactive because you hadn’t gotten laid in a while and while she isn’t wrong, you find it hard to believe that a little lack of sex in your life has you melting in the hands of a man you hardly know. 
It all sounds about right, right? Wrong, oh boy you were so wrong about being sure that you were more than just attracted to him and that was why you were damn near seconds away from dropping your panties for him each time he purposely pushed up against your ass. You had hoped that maybe with time things would get easier, that maybe with the help from the toys you have back at your apartment that the tension would simmer some between the two of you, but as the weeks went on, it only seemed to get worse. There would be lingering touches between the two of you when only you were in his office, you’d catch him staring at your lips more often than not and sometimes you’d even amplify the things between you by purposely wearing something you thought he’d like in hopes to get a reaction out of him. You’re starting to think it’s worked. 
Tumblr media
Now, there isn’t anything written down saying that an assistant’s job is only defined within the hours of work because technically, the company runs all day throughout the week. So no, there isn’t anywhere in any book that says that your boss, the one who’s been trying so hard to get in your pants, shouldn’t be messaging you on your off day asking for you to bring him his lunch. In his defense, he says he’s stuck in a virtual meeting and forgot to get something made before it started. Joy finds it to be full of bullshit and advises you to wear your finest set of lingerie, but you assure her nothing is going to happen and the little packages she shoved in your purse was unnecessary. 
When you left the shop he so desperately wanted this specific sandwich from, you’d be lying if you said the butterflies weren’t bounding around in your stomach bad up into your ribs. The closer the GPS said that you were to his house, the worse they got and you were starting to feel a little nauseous. When you pull into his driveway, you’re mostly shocked to see that his house wasn’t at all what you expected it to be. Seeing how he’s already a CEO of a pretty popular company before the age of thirty, you expected a more lavish lifestyle, but it’s almost refreshing seeing his house as if it was one next door to your own childhood home. Pulling in behind, what you can only assume is his vehicle, you put the car in park and grab the bag and head up towards his front door. 
Before knocking on the door, you repeatedly remind yourself that you’re only here to give him his lunch and nothing more. The last thing you need to do is fall into his smooth talking trap and end up coming in and not leaving when you’re supposed to or at least that’s what you’re telling yourself. Deciding on what’s worse in your head as far as the possible sequence of events, you push everything in your mind aside and knock on his door a couple times. You’re waiting for what seems like forever for him to answer, fiddling with the bag in your hand when he opens the door with a somewhat surprised look on his face. “Hey.” He breathes out his greeting as he steps aside and you take a quick step in. “Sorry for the mess, I’ve been arguing with the same people for the last couple of hours and I almost forgot you were coming over.” 
Taking in the interior of his house, a smile falls upon your lips. It’s a very welcoming and calm atmosphere, small pictures of him and who you’re assuming his friends hanging up on the walls. The more you look, the more you find a piece of him in each decoration that hung like trophies on the wall. As you started to walk around, the sound of Haechan walking away caught your attention as his silhouette disappeared down the hallway. Cautiously, you follow behind him as he goes into what you assumed was his home office. Turning the corner, Haechan pulls out the chair and plops back into it before scooting back up to the desk and starts to type away on his keyboard. The room was quite empty compared to the living room. There wasn’t anything hanging up on the walls and you kind of expected more furniture for seating, but there was just a desk and a chair and a mini fridge sitting beside the desk. Maybe the mini trash can if you’re counting it, really. 
“Are you just gonna stand there or can I have my sandwich now?” You must’ve been lost in your own thoughts and the moment it takes for his words to register in your head shows it. “Oh, uh, yeah.” Mumbling, you walk over to his desk and place the bag down beside him. You’re partly curious as to what he’s working on, but trying to not be nosy was a push and pull battle in your mind. “Is that the spreadsheet for our new upcoming project?” When Haechan turns his head toward you, there’s an unexpected smile on his lips that you quite can’t get enough of if we’re being honest. “I see someone’s been paying attention to the meetings.” Rolling your eyes in response, you lean down a little to get a better view. “Are you really expecting that much of a sales increase when it launches?” The question was more of a good thing than bad, but it seems the entire question went over his head as he zones in on your closeness. “You smell really good.” 
You’re trying not to focus on the fact that his face is inches from yours or the fact that he’s leaning in and practically sniffing your exposed skin. Maybe let’s not focus on the fact that the proximity of his lips from yours is flooding your mind with thoughts that have your heart racing. “That’s not the answer to my question, hyuck.” The nickname slipped out from your lips too quickly for you to catch and you’re almost embarrassed how closely you pay attention to him. For Haechan, he can practically hear his heart beating in his chest from the slip up that you didn’t intend to happen and it adds the cherry on top of his pride in knowing that you paid as much attention as he did to you. “I’ve got a better question.” When his fingers brush against your cheek, you can feel the heat radiating from your face as contrast to his cold fingers. “How bad do you want to kiss me right now, because I already know my answer and I just need the green to make both our dreams come true right now.” 
With parted lips, you take in a deep breath of air to prepare you for what’s next to come. His eyes that were usually a beautiful amber color seemed to have darkened with a lustful glaze to them and the look he’s giving you right now alone is enough to cause the fabric of your panties to start feeling slick. “Never met a man who said he’d make my dreams come true in such a short time.” Reaching out, his hands find their way onto your hips and his fingers immediately start to dip into your skin while he pulls you onto his lap. There’s a deep chuckle that emits from his chest, the sound sends a shiver down your spine. “Baby, give me the chance and I’ll have you seeing the stars in some of your best dreams.” The chair isn’t the most spacious and Haechan seems to notice as you struggle to make yourself comfortable on his lap. Moving his hands further down your hips and down the curve of your backside, he settles them underneath your thighs and gives them a firm squeeze before hoisting you up with a yelp earned from you.
“Only some?” The playfulness in your tone was enough for him to know that you were good to go, but he wasn’t going to let you have what you wanted so easily. With your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers toying with the bottom strands of his hair. He was quick to bring you to his room, setting you down on the edge of his bed for you to unwrap your limbs from around him. His hands migrated from the slightly exposed skin on your hips to your chin, pulling you in for the kiss you both had been waiting for. Just as you’re expecting to be met with his lips, you’re left wondering why nothing has happened and when you open his eyes, the shit eating grin on his face almost makes you wanna wipe it off. “Are you gonna kiss me or am I going to have to kiss myself?” 
“Depends on how badly you want to be kissed.” Barely an inch away, he was so close that his breath was fanning into your lashes. “You suck, I hope you know that.” Somehow his lips curl even further and you were feeling tempted to salvage your dignity before he prolonged it any longer. “I bet you’d look pretty sucking on something else.” Reaching up to grab the collar of his shirt, you pull him in and your lips crash against one another. Haechan doesn’t fight it, instead he gives into it and leans forward with one hand moving to curve of your back. His lips are just as soft as you expected and the honey flavored chapstick he keeps on his desk is peaking through as he pushes his tongue in for permission to explore your mouth. Without much thought, your lips spread to welcome the sudden movement and the warmth it sends down your body has your brain becoming mush. 
He doesn’t fight for much control of the kiss, instead he uses his time to slowly undress you in between the kisses that started out soft and slowly started to get rougher. Once he got you stripped down to just your bra and panties, he broke the kiss to lean back and admire you. To him, you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen and the sheer thought of getting so close to making you his was not only affecting his lower and neglected region, but a part of his heart that he found only beats for you. Under his lustful gaze, you were starting to feel shy and pull at the blanket in hopes to cover up. Haechan almost immediately pushes your hand away, a soft look on his face. “Don’t hide from me baby, I wanna see all of you.” Kneeling down, Haechan’s hands slide underneath your thighs and wrap around to grab onto your hips. He pulls you down to the edge of the bed, eyeing the darkened spot that you seemed too shy about. 
“Are you sure you want this?” Nodding, you do your what to avoid looking down at him. His head was inching up between your thighs, leaving opened kisses on your skin. “Words baby, I want to hear you.” Taking in a breath of air, you make the fatal mistake of looking down while his fingers hook underneath the band of your underwear. Slowly pulling them down, you lift your hips up with a little wiggle to help him move them down your leg till they hit the floor with a soft thud. “I want this, hyuck.” You’re expecting him to make you beg for it, something about him feels like he’s the type to tease you and you know for a fact that he’s contemplating it. With a sly grin on his lips, he yanks your hips closer to him, spreading your legs apart to get the best view of the wetness slicking down your hole. 
“Be glad I’m impatient tonight.” Before you get the chance to respond, the feeling of his tongue took all the breath left you had in your lungs. Moving the muscle in a slow and patterned motion, he focuses on the spot he knows that’ll get you to where he wants you and moves one of his hands to your entrance. His view of you had him bucking his hips against the edge of the bed, the taste alone was starting to become an addiction for him and he couldn’t get enough. “You taste so fucking good.” He mumbles against your clit, slipping a finger into which earned a satisfied moan from your end. You’re sprawled out on the bed, gripping the blanket beneath you for some leverage to remind you you’re still on earth. With his tongue dipping down to lap at your flowing juices, the moans of his name roll off your tongue. “F-fuck hyuck, I’m c-close.” You’re almost ashamed at how quickly he’s gotten you to coming, but he doesn’t let up any. Instead, he replaces his finger with his tongue and presses two digits against your almost sensitive clit. 
“H-hyuck s-stop, I-I’m gonna cum.” Haechan doesn’t respond, instead he dips his tongue into your clenching hole while his fingers work circles onto your clit. Your moans are starting to get higher in pitch and Haechan can tell by the way you’re tightening around his tongue that your orgasm wasn’t far behind. He’s groaning into your pussy, using his hand on your hip to pull you even further against his mouth. You’re starting to feel like you’re going to explode, the tightening feeling in your stomach getting stronger each time he flicks his fingers on your clit. With a high pitched moan, you finally release against his tongue and Haechan is drinking it up. “H-hyuck, sensitive.” He likes the way you whine his name, it sounds so pretty coming from you, especially when he has you coming the way he did. He decided to be generous and slow his movements on your clit till eventually his hand stopped, despite your protest and pushing of his hand. 
When he comes up from between your legs, the glistening on his chin and mouth has you clenching around nothing. “Do you want to stop?” Despite the fact that he just ate you out like he was a starved man and you were his only source of food and water, the softened look on his face has not only your stomach, but your heart doing flips. “No, I want you, I want you hyuck.” He smiles, pulling his shirt up and tossing it aside to deal with later. He then starts to discard his pants, watching as you eye the bulge in briefs. “Like what you see?” You’re tempted to throw up a finger and tell him to fuck off, but the sight of him pulling his throbbing member out for release has your mouth watering. Not once in your life would you ever think you’d be salivating over a dick, but his was just too perfect not to admire. His length wasn’t too long to where you’d have to be hospitalized, but just long enough to make you feel like you’ll see the galaxy. His girth, let’s not even talk about how thick he is.
“Eyes up here, baby.” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, looking up to meet his eyes. He starts to crawl onto the bed and over you, moving his hand between your legs and cupping your pussy to gather some of the wetness to spread along his tip. “Tell me if I need to stop.” Nodding, you’re too focused on him aligning himself up with your entrance. Haechan cupped your chin, moving your head up to meet his eyes. “I mean it y/n, tell me if I need to stop.” A soft smile spreads across your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into a kiss. You’re expecting it to be rough and sloppy, somewhat similar to the kiss you shared in the room over, but instead it was gentle and full of emotions the two of you didn’t know you were starting to harbor. Haechan’s hips slowly lowered, moving his hand away from his member to allow himself to slip into your warmth. You’re moaning into the kiss as he fills you up, inch by inch creating a beautiful stretch and the pain started to mix with the pleasure and you were in heaven. 
Pulling back from the kiss, he nuzzles his head into your shoulder as he pulls back before thrusting forward. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He starts to thrust in you in a rhythm, making your body bounce up when his hips snap against yours. “H-hyuck.” Haechan feels too close to finishing and slows down his pace while one hand hooks underneath your leg and holds it against his shoulder and chest to get a better angle. The new position has him hitting you in all the right spots when his hips snap forward and his name is rolling off your tongue incoherently as you feel your thoughts slipping further and further away. “Look at you, so fuck—fucking tight, you’re squeezing my cock so hard you just want me to cum.” The lewd words coming from him without shame made your walls clench around him even harder, too lost in the feeling of him filling you up to respond. 
The sight in front of him was one he wanted to see all the time, your breasts bouncing each time he slammed his hips into yours and the look on your face was just too perfect for him to never see again. The free hand he had found it’s way onto your clit, tracing circles with his fingers as his pace started to quicken. You could tell he was close and the wave of your second orgasm was coming in quicker than you were expecting. “Come with me baby, I wanna fuck you full of of our cum.” Haechan could’ve swore you were the love of his life when you gripped his arms and pulled him down into another kiss. Your lips melted against his while you mumble against them that you were close and before you could tell him clearly, you released all over his member. The fluttering of your walls was sending Haechan into a frenzy when his hips started to move sloppily before stilling them while he pumped his load into you. Softly whimpering, you continue the kiss and much to your surprise, Haechan doesn’t pull away. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, rubbing the upper half of his back as the two of you kiss until you’re about to run out of breath. He’s the first to pull back, much to his own internal protest, and when he opens his eyes, he’s smiling from ear to ear at the fucked out look you were sporting beneath him. Although you weren’t wreaking any makeup, the sweat glistening on your skin made you shine with the sunset coming through the blinds. “You okay?” A soft nod soothes all his worries of potential hurting or even scaring you away. Leaving a soft kiss onto your hairline, he slowly pulls his hips from yours and his softening member slips from within you leaving you feeling empty. He leans back on his knees, watching the mix of his and yours cum leaking out between your legs. “Stop staring, it’s making me feel weird.” A little laugh escapes his lips while you attempt to cover your face from embarrassment. 
He’s tempted, boy is he tempted, to lean down and lick your hole clean till every bit of cum is gone and you’re left squirming and crying on his tongue all over again—but he’s not going to overstimulate you, just yet, and gets off the bed instead. You watch him get up and make his way into the bathroom, sitting up on your elbows as you watch him start the shower. Silently, Haechan comes back into the room and walks over to the bed on the side to which you’re more accessible. Hooking his arms underneath you, he pulls you close to his chest and carries you into the bathroom where you two take a well needed and very hot shower. You don’t say much to each other, taking the shirt he offered you from his closet and staying in his arms when he asked you to join him on the couch to watch movies. 
When you left the next morning, you didn’t expect this to become any sort of routine. You went to work the following Monday and went about your business as usual. Of course you had to fill Joy in and she wasn’t all too surprised, but she understood why you ditched her that Saturday night and didn’t answer your phone till the following afternoon. Nothing was supposed to change between you, you were supposed to stay professional and be his assistant and respect the boundaries that shouldn’t have been crossed once before—but you don’t exactly remember when it all started to fall apart either. 
One day, you’re bringing him his paperwork he asked for and the lunch he wanted and the next, you’re sucking his dick under his desk while he takes calls from over seas. That’s not even the worst part of it all, between being bent over his desk in the middle of the busiest part of the day, you found yourself in his bed—not only on weekends, but weekdays too. That in itself was a problem and you didn’t want to address it, but when you found yourself sleeping over so much that you didn’t have to worry about clothes for work the next morning because he already had clothes you left before hanging in his closet—yeah you really needed to pull yourself together. 
Joy started to notice your change in behavior, the way you were more smiley and always busy with either doing things for Haechan or being the thing he’s doing at the moment. She made a couple comments here and there, telling you you’re biting off more than you can chew and you brush her off because there was no way that you were getting ahead of yourself, but everyone around you who looked a little longer at the way you two interact, they’d see there was more going on between the both of you. 
Tumblr media
Things in the office have been pretty tame recently, no one is doing anything alarming and everything seems to be running smoothly, just like the hand going down Haechan’s arm from the substitute secretary—a little too smooth. The girl you switched jobs with is off on her honeymoon for a week and since her job is important, Haechan brought in one of the more experienced interns a couple floors down. You offered to take over the position, but he argued that he needs you by him at all times and you think that was only for him to get his dick wet whenever he had you alone. Lately, you two haven’t been on top of one another as you’re used to and you have her to blame. 
“Sounds like you’re jealous.” With one brow raised, Joy is leaning against her desk with her arms folded across her chest. Jaemin is sitting at one of the chairs you used to occupy when you had more free time to barge into her office. “She’s got a point.” Shooting him a look, he instantly raises his hands up and silently admits defeat and decides to stay quiet. “I’m not jealous, it’s just—it’s just so aggravating because I can’t do my job if she’s always barging in and asking the same damn questions, only worded differently.” She snickers, pinching the bridge of her nose while you huff. “What’s so funny? I don’t remember this being a joke.” 
“Just say you’re jealous baby, if you come to terms that you may actually have feelings—“
“Uh uh, nope, not going down this road again, I don’t have feelings for him.” She didn’t seem like she was buying your argument and you didn’t feel like having to come to terms that maybe you actually did and the little bit of jealousy that sank into the bottom of your stomach when they got too close was due to your neglected emotions for him. “I’m just saying, if you weren’t so crazy for his dick then maybe you’d see that you really like him.” Letting out a loud groan, you push yourself up from the chair you were sitting in and headed towards her door. “I gotta get back before he starts ringing me up to find me.” She nods, blowing you a kiss to which you pretend to grab. “Be safe out there, soldier.” You salute her while turning the knob and opening the door. Stepping out of her office and letting the door shut on its own behind you, you make your way through her floor and back up to Haechan’s office. 
The door was cracked, so you could see figures moving around inside, but when you actually stepped inside, the sight before you made you feel nauseous. Haechan was sitting in the chair he usually sat in in front of his computer, but his lap was being occupied by the fucking secretary. Her hands were everywhere and anywhere on his upper body and his hands just so happened to be conveniently placed just above the curve of her ass. Of course when the door opened, the commotion caught their attention and the two started to separate. Haechan was expecting Johnny to come in, seeing how he said he was gonna pay a visit today, but when he saw you standing in the doorway with wide eyes and a sadden expression, he couldn’t stop the guilt from washing over him. 
“Sorry, I’ll come back later.” Practically mumbling the words, you pull the door shut behind you and move as fast as you can to the nearest elevator to escape having to face him right now. You’re hurt, rightfully so seeing how you’ve only been sleeping with him and thought he was doing the same, but the more you start to replay the imagine in your head, the more you realize how dumb you look. Unbeknownst to you, Haechan was trying to find you without making it known to the girl that was just grinding away on his lap that he was sleeping with you. By the time that he got her off his lap and made up some half assed excuse as to why he needed to get out the office, you were nowhere to be seen. He did what he thought would work and that was by going down to Joy’s office to find you. 
Knowing that he’d probably stop there first, you skip going to her and instead hit the cafe down in the back of the building. You’re trying to hide out, in case he comes down, but when you spot Johnny making conversation with one of his favorite baristas, you immediately make way for him. “What are you doing here, stranger?” Hearing your voice, Johnny instantly turns his head towards you with a smile on his face. “My favorite secretary turned assistant.” The two of you get a coffee and you get lunch before moving to a table of your choosing and sitting down to catch up. You explain to him why you chose the least obvious table in the area and when you fill him in on your special activities with Haechan, he doesn’t seem surprised. “I’m honestly glad it’s happening, I was rooting for you two since y’all made that weird tension eye contact.” 
“Yeah, well there’s nothing to root for since I just caught him feeling up on his secretary.” With a pout, you fiddle with the rest of the food in front of you and Johnny gets a sense of the reason why you’re so affected. “Hey, at least you know now instead of later, saves you the trouble, right?” Looking up to meet his eyes, you nod. He wasn’t wrong, at least now you know that he might be or could have already had a thing going on between the two of them—but it doesn’t save you from the pain you feel in your chest that drops down to your stomach when you think about it. “Hey, I know this is kinda late, but he’s coming in hot from three o’clock.” Without a second to brace yourself or even try to find a way out of the situation you’re about to be in, Haechan comes running up to the table and he’s clearly out of breath. 
There’s a slight dew on his face and the hair fallen over his forehead is partly stuck. “I’ve been looking for you.” You’re surprised he got the sentence out while he tries to catch his breath. “Uh, here I am.” Johnny can see the tension between the two of you and you’re ever so thankful he decides to step in. “Not you, y/n, he obviously meant me because he knew I was coming today and you’re on your lunch break.” Johnny gives you a look with his eyes and you nod slightly while trying to get up from your seat. “Wait, no, but yes, I was looking for you too, but y/n, can you come with me for a moment?” 
“Uh, sure, but can we make it quick so I can finish my break?” He doesn’t respond nor does he acknowledge Johnny again before grabbing onto your wrist and guiding you to the bathroom area of the cafe. Once you got close, Haechan pulled you off to a corner and moved you to where your back was almost against the wall. “Where did you, wait let me rephrase that, why did you run off earlier?” You’re confused, why did it matter to him that you ran off and more importantly, why did he try so hard to find you just to ask you that. “I saw you were busy, so I left and took my break while I was at it.” He doesn’t buy it, you can tell by the expression on his face that he didn’t buy any of what you were saying. “That’s bullshit y/n, you know that I know that so just be honest with me.” 
You didn’t like the position you were in, your back was quite literally against the wall and your heart was on your sleeve, but you covered it to keep it safe. “I don’t see why this is a big deal so if you’re done interrogating me, you have a meeting in an hour and I can’t get it set up until I finish my lunch.” You can see the frustration on his face, his brows furrowed as he looked down into your unbothered gaze. With a shaking of his head, he backed away from you and made his way back through the cafe to grab Johnny. Staying in the corner, you took a moment to yourself to collect your thoughts till you peaked around to make sure they were both gone. When the coast was clear, you immediately made your way back up to Joy’s office and she seemed to be ready for you when you walked. 
The rest of the week went on and much didn’t change, you were giving Haechan the cold shoulder and he didn’t seem to want to push you to stay around him any longer than you wanted. The substitute secretary seemed to be spending more time in his office than you were and you didn’t dare to go in while the two of them were alone inside. Instead, you would move down a couple floors and spend your lunch hiding away in Joy’s floor talking amongst the media workers in hopes that they would take your mind off of Haechan. For the most part, they provided a good distraction and even Mark helped you by letting you talk out how you feel and giving you a perspective from a guy. Much to your surprise actually, you and Mark got somewhat close and when Joy was being whisked away by Jaemin, you sat around Mark’s desk area for you both to keep each other company. 
After the week was finished and the following came through, you expected some things to go back to normal now that the regular secretary was back, but much to your disappointment, the girl from floors down kept coming up for some dumb reason to get her hands around Haechan and the fact that he seemed to be enjoying it made you feel sick. You were doing your best ignoring the two of them and just keeping your nose in your own business when you had to be around him when she was there, but you couldn’t stop the longing feeling from telling you that it should be you he has his hands wrapped around and it should be you that he makes stupid jokes to when he finds he needs a distraction. This continues for the rest of the week and you still haven’t had much of a conversation with Haechan until the weekend comes and you’re sitting in your car with Mark after you two just left lunch.
“I can’t believe you’ve never had food like that before.” Mark wasn’t the best cook, to which you found out by him nearby burning down your kitchen, so when you suggested getting brunch instead the two of you immediately got on the road. “Listen, I’m a breakfast guy, but I’m not like a midday breakfast guy, you know?” Mark takes the aux, putting on a song you weren’t entirely familiar with. “What is this, is this why you still don’t get bitches?” Laughing, he’s almost more shocked that you don’t know the song playing over the fact that you basically said he has no game. “You’re telling me that you’ve never heard this song before?” Shrugging, you start the car and check your mirrors before pulling out the parked space. “Our music taste is clearly different.” 
“I guess you got a point, oh hey, you got a text.” Picking up your phone, he brings it close to you for you to unlock it and see if it was actually important or not. “It’s Haechan, he wants me to come by to get some papers before Monday.” You can tell Mark is confused as to why you’re needed over the weekend, but he also knows that maybe this would be the chance of you two finally talking this out and everything going back to a somewhat normal. Seeing how you were on the way to your house, you had to reroute and Mark was fine with tagging along for the drive. He secretly just wanted to see what kind of place Haechan lived in and you don’t blame him because you too were curious when you first went to his house. It didn’t take you long to get there, pulling in and putting the car in park before unbuckling your seatbelt. “I won’t be long, I promise.” 
Nodding, he throws up two thumbs and wordlessly wishes you good luck, to which you’re thankful for. You make your way up to his front door, knocking a couple times and wait only to end up with no answer. Just as you’re about to walk back to your car, the door swings open and Haechan is standing there while trying to catch his breath. You immediately see his shirt has been stretched out, almost as if it’s been pulled on and his shorts are loosely hugging his waist. “Y/n, I didn’t—I didn’t know you’d be here this quick.” You’re speechless, not knowing what to say or what to even think about until you see someone scrambling around in the back and low and behold, the same girl from the office comes rushing out. She doesn’t say much, only mumbling a sorry as she pushes past both you and Haechan to make her way down to the car she parked a bit further down. 
“Sorry, I didn't mean to cut your company time short.” You’re about to pivot around and go back to your car to let out a well needed cry, but Haechan has had enough and he grabs your wrist to keep you from running off. “Hold the fuck on, what is that supposed to mean?” You scoff, hating how oblivious he is to what has been running through your mind. You hate how oblivious he has been to how you’ve been acting and why you’re acting this way. You hate how badly it hurts to see him with her, with anyone else that isn’t you and you hate yourself for thinking of what could’ve been going on between them. “Just give me the damn papers and let me go on my way, I hate people waiting for me.” 
“Oh you mean that guy in your car? Guess you wasted no time hopping from me to him.” Walking off after letting go of his hold on your wrist, he stomps off towards his back office and you follow behind. “Are you fucking kidding me right now, I’m the one hopping around when you’ve been fucking some girl who worked with you for what, a week?” Haechan snatched up papers off his desk, walking out the room with frustration in his eyes. “Why does it even matter who I’m with or not, you’re not my girlfriend and we aren’t a thing.” Each word felt like a punch in the gut, the painful realization that all the little touches and each time he offered you to wear his shirt was because he was being nice, not because he had underlying feelings the same way you did. “I wasn’t even fucking her, she was trying to fuck me and I was trying to be respectful and keep her off my fucking lap, but you wouldn’t know that because you weren’t even around half the time.” 
“You’re right, I wasn’t around because seeing her hands on you and knowing that no matter how I felt about it would’ve changed anything.” Everything in his mind started to click and by watching the way you were shutting him out right in front of him was enough for him to realize you wanted more than what you two had going on. “Y/n, can we just—“
“Just give me the papers so I can take Mark home, the guy I’m not fucking by the way.” He was hesitant, holding out his hand for you to take them in hopes that you’d change your mind and stay. There was so much that wasn’t talked about and so much that needed to be said and the last thing he wanted was for you to walk away. Instead, you grabbed the papers from his hand and walked out of the house without another word coming from you. Mark could tell you were upset and judging by the way you were fighting back your tears, he didn’t say anything and for the rest of the car ride, it was silent. 
Tumblr media
Since you last saw Haechan at his house, over a month had passed and so much changed from that day forward. The following week, you got an email saying that you’d be returning back to your original position and part of you hated yourself for letting all of this happen the way it did. Many nights Joy spent time in your apartment with you, holding you on the couch while you cried yourself to sleep night after night. When she wasn’t able to comfort you, she either sent Jaemin and his friend Jeno to keep you company or she asked Mark to sit with you till she had the time to come back over. She even went as far as asking your neighbor Renjun to check on you periodically and he wasn’t opposed to the request, just a little bit concerned. That same first week you went back to being the secretary, Haechan sent you an email at the end of the week stating he’d be going out of town. You were sad over the thought of him not being here, even if he only passed by you a couple times a day unless you went in to give him paperwork. 
Johnny came in to sit in for Haechan when meetings were happening, not budging when you asked him where he might be. He always said something along the lines of, “I don’t know what he’s doing, but where he’s at is where he needs to be.” That went on for weeks on end and the love you had for your job slowly started to fade. After another half month had passed, you started to feel like coming into work was more of a chore and less of a joy and that was when you decided to put your final notice in. Johnny didn’t want to accept it when you presented it to him, but he knew that after the shit storm you had been through, maybe this would be best for you. The few floors you had worked on before threw you a party the week before your last considering as you didn’t plan on coming that last week and everyone gave you the best farewell hug as the party started to die down. You’re going to be sad, deeply sad to leave the job you worked so hard for to get where you were, but you were just hoping that it would be the right decision. 
That’s what keeps you up at night, the thoughts of this either going south and you feeling even more lost and out of place or if this will be the beginning of a new chapter of your life and maybe you’ll finally find peace. The sound of rain crashing down against your windows was in a way washing away your thoughts for you to revisit in the morning and you’re just about to doze off until you hear a banging on your door. At first, you think it’s the thunder outside and choose to close your eyes and try to go to sleep. You hear another banging and by now you’re convinced it’s urgent. Getting up from your bed, you walk through your apartment and out to your door. 
When you get closer to the door, you see Renjun’s jacket laying across the arm or your couch and figure it’s him at the door waiting for his return. Twisting the knob, you pull the door open and you’re almost shocked—actually no, you are definitely shocked to see Haechan standing in front of you. Soaked from head to toe, the jacket he is wearing did him no justice to protect him from the cold weather that is still coming down hard just a couple feet away. “Hyuck, what are you—weren’t you just, actually what the hell is wrong with you?” Shivering, he goes to speak, but the lightning striking in the background is too loud for him to get decent words out. You reach out, pulling him into your apartment and shut the door behind him. 
You rush down to get towels for him to dry off and it doesn’t do much work for either of you, so you opt for him to take a shower and pull out some of the clothes you had from his house for him to wear. While he was still showering, you made a hot cup of tea and set it on the coffee table for him when he got out. With a towel draping over his head, he comes out and immediately heads to the living room where he saw you pass. You’re sitting on the couch, fiddling with the remote to put something on for background noise when he plops down beside you and reaches out for the cup. Much to his delight, you made it just the way he likes and he silently thanks you for that. Once you find something decent to put on, you set the remote down and let him settle a little while sipping on his cup. 
“Hyuck, what are you doing here and why were you soaking wet?” Haechan is thankful you’re the first one to break the ice, sitting up to set his cup down before leaning back into the couch and turning to face you. “I got back into town and Johnny told me you were leaving, I know it’s late and I didn’t know what to do to stop you or even where to find you, so I looked up your employee file and immediately made my way to you.” You stay silent, knowing there is more he wants to get out, but just has to find the right way to say it. “I didn’t mean to leave after we last talked, I didn’t want to leave things like that, but my mom needed me and I immediately went home to help and I was gone and I didn’t have time to focus on anything, but please believe me when I say all I could think about was you.” It shouldn’t have made you feel all warm inside, but it did. Knowing that he was gone and how badly you needed him here and him needing you there made all the butterflies in your stomach start to flutter. “Please, say something.” 
“I really like you, regardless of how bad I wanted to hate you for being the biggest dick ever, I just couldn’t get over you and when you were gone, I really didn’t know what to do anymore.” Haechan was smiling from ear to ear, trying to hide the redness of his cheeks as you heard you clearly confess your feelings for him. “How about I make you a proposition?” Honestly, you’re a little intrigued when he reaches out and grabs your hands. Pulling you towards him, you have no choice but to move with him and climb into his lap. “How about you be my girlfriend and don’t quit.” Interlocking your hands with his, he rubs his thumb over yours and it brings the biggest smile to your lips. “And what’s in it for me?” Humming, he takes the moment to think about what he already knows he is going to offer. His lips form a pout and you swear in that moment he never looked more kissable than now. “How about, I got you and you got me.” Leaning in, you press your lips against his in a soft peck. “Deal.”
Tumblr media
©︎𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐍., 2023
459 notes · View notes
cinnajun · 2 years
Text
༻¨*:·. atlas cried | ljn
Tumblr media
summary | they say your soulmate is your perfect other half—whatever you lack, they have, and whatever they lack, you have. when lee jeno, your academy’s golden boy, approaches you and says you’re his soulmate, you can’t begin to understand how he—rich, gorgeous, never had to work a day in his life—could be the perfect match for you—poor, exhausted, and barely hanging onto the scholarship covering what would be a 65 million won tuition.
genre | high school au (rich boarding school style), soulmate!au, prep!jeno x fem!reader, prep! jaemin & reader (platonic), angst, slow burn, enemies-ish to lovers, kind of academic rivals but in a way that the rivalry is created by other people, im ngl y/n and jeno just don’t like each other, fake dating? au
warnings | did someone say violent academic pressure, heavy isolation, abusive parenting, malicious rumors, everybody is so unhappy, a lot of miscommunication, internalized misogyny, suicide mention (in passing), arson
wc | 24.7k
a/n: hello and welcome to my first long piece ! i hope it's up to your standards :') i'm not sure how i feel about it, as i've never written anything this long so i'm scared there's continuity issues and whatnot. nonetheless, please send me your feedback !! p.s. here is a short playlist comprised of 10 songs i listened to while i wrote this :) p.p.s im sorry for any egregious typos/poorly worded sentences in the last ~9k words, i proofread all of them while i was really tired lol
ft. a few people i made up
Tumblr media
i. during the titan war, atlas sided with his fellow titans in battle to defeat the olympians.
THE WIND HOWLED OUTSIDE YOUR DORM BUILDING, rattling the windows of your dorm room and nearly obscuring the study music coming from your speakers. The sky and the wind told of an incoming storm, which made you want to hurry to the cafeteria and get dinner before you were trapped inside. Your homework, however, drowned out the hunger pangs in your stomach and told you that the endless bags of chips hidden under your bed would make a fine dinner.
“You know, they say your soulmate shoulders the weight of the world with you,” your roommate, Suhyeon, sighed, capturing your attention and effectively destroying the deep focus you had on your homework.
“Ok. And?”
She turned over onto her side, a bored expression taking over her face. “Doesn’t that seem scary?”
“I guess?”
“Would you want to share all your problems with someone else? Like, every single one?”
You resisted the urge to strangle her, as well as the urge to remind her that she does not have to keep a top five spot in her class in order to continue going to school. Instead, you spun your desk chair to face her bed, where she lay, staring at your plain white ceiling.
“Want to go get dinner?”
“With this wind? That sounds dreadful,” she replied, looking at you with a bored face. Then, with a sigh, she pushed herself up from the bed and swung her legs over the edge. “I’m not in the mood for another three bags of honey chips.”
To that, you’d have to agree. For the past three-and-a-half days, you and Suhyeon had eaten three bags of chips for dinner, as you were trapped with your head in your textbooks and Suhyeon refused to go to the dining hall without you (according to her, it would look weird to eat alone, and you were her only friend on campus).
“If I had to guess, we’ll be getting a day off tomorrow,” Suhyeon said, swiping her set of keys off her mostly unused desk. You stood up, cringing at the sound of your back cracking as you stretched. Your legs ached from how long you’d been sitting, as well as your back, but that wasn’t nearly as bad as the cramps you felt in your knees. Suhyeon grabbed her coat off the coat hook bolted to your door, slipping it over her uniform and zipping it up promptly.
You shuffled over and did the same, preemptively sliding the hood up so you could begin situating your hair under it. Suhyeon swung the door open and you obediently followed, emerging into the monotonous corridors of the dormitory.
“Are we due for blizzarding?”
“Yes ma’am.” Suhyeon nodded, swinging her arms back and forth as she half-skipped down the hall. “It’s not cold enough today, but, if it storms tonight, I bet we’ll wake up to a classes-have-been-canceled email.”
You sighed, wondering what that would mean for your math exam that you’d been slaving over for the past week and a half. It was the final midterm until you were granted a week off, which you and Suhyeon had excitedly planned to be spent entirely in your bedroom. If there was a snow day, you hoped your teacher would simply postpone it for Friday, rather than move it after the break altogether.
You opened the door to the stairwell, allowing Suhyeon to pass by you and get a head start on the stairs. You quickly followed, wishing you’d done your usual study-stretch schedule today. Your legs nearly gave out as you tried to stay caught up with your roommate, and you were shocked that you managed to make it to the first floor without falling down a flight of stairs.
Another strong gust of wind rattled the building, and you wondered if it was exactly a good idea to make a break for the dining hall.
Suhyeon let out a loud groan, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “I hate the second year-dormitory,” she announced, slowing to a stop in front of the first pair of doors to the outside. “Why do the first years have the indoor path to the dining hall? If anything, they should be the ones in the old, rickety dorms.”
“There’s nothing happy about second year, though. If they put all the depressing stuff halfway in, it won’t be as easy to drop out,” you said, taking the chance to run outside the moment the wind let up a bit. Suhyeon followed close behind you, catching up enough to lace an arm around yours as you ran through the school courtyard.
You practically bulldozed into the dining hall as another burst of wind began, which ended up with you and Suhyeon having to push the door closed as if you were trying to move a broken-down car. The door shut with a satisfying lock, leaving you in the entryway room that consisted of four doors and absolutely nothing else.
Suhyeon sighed, pushing through the second set of doors. The moment they opened, you were hit with the strong smell of spaghetti, which made the hunger pangs worsen substantially. Despite the time, the dining hall was mostly empty, save for a few groups who’d opted to spend their after-school time in there and any third years or first years who’d decided they were hungry.
They didn’t have to make a mad dash across campus to arrive without being blown away. In fact, none of them were even wearing any sort of rain gear.
“Oh god,” Suhyeon mumbled as you approached the serving counter, picking up two trays from the stack they had at the edge.
“What?”
“Golden boys are here.”
You looked up from your tray, turning your head to scan the cafeteria. Sure enough, all six of the golden boys—as they were called—sat at a table in the corner of the room, books littered across the table alongside bowls of spaghetti and an enormous amount of garlic bread. They seemed to be having a good time, laughing and making up essentially all the noise that rattled the room. Suhyeon always told you that there were seven of them, but one had the misfortune of taking a transfer year to some “partner school” off in Shanghai this year, and last year he was still a middle schooler.
You thought the seventh boy might’ve been a ghost that you couldn’t see, though.
One of the cafeteria ladies put a hefty bowl of spaghetti on your plate, along with an oddly gourmet-looking piece of garlic bread. There was a self-serve salad bar and dessert bar further down, but you weren’t too interested in having any of it for right now.
“Awe, they’re sitting a few tables down from our usual spot,” Suhyeon mumbled, stopping to grab a bowl of salad. You waited behind her, staring at the distance between their table of madness and your quaint corner. They were sitting adjacent to the window, likely to survey the weather, and your two-person table was situated in a corner between a false wall that separated the eating area from the first-year entrance. There were about six tables, give or take, between you and them.
“We’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re right next to them,” you said, turning towards her. She was finishing up her salad, placing the bowl on her unbalanced tray, and attempting to get it stable with her now-free other hand. You took that as your chance to begin your stroll to the table, with Suhyeon nervously following behind.
For some reason, she did not like the oh-so-famous golden boys. Any time they entered the conversation, she went silent, and always ended up throwing off the momentum of the conversation with her anxiety; when you tried to ask her about it, she always got defensive, saying she has “nothing to do with them” and “doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”
You allowed her to take the corner spot, frowning as she shoved herself into the corner and began picking at her food with her fork. You wondered if it was mean to do this when she so obviously had an issue with it, even if she insisted she didn’t.
“We can sit somewhere else…”
“No, you’re right,” Suhyeon cleared her throat, shaking her head. “It’s not like we’re right next to them. I’ll be fine.”
You took another look at her hidden in the corner, recognizing that she was not going to be fine, but you didn’t push any further. If you had to guess, the last thing she wanted to do was have you make a big deal about her discomfort.
You both ate quietly and quickly, hoping to finish before the oncoming storm hit. Due to the lack of conversation between you two, courtesy of the golden boys being twenty-ish feet away, it wasn’t hard to get through nearly the entire meal within a few seconds.
Your silence also made it quite easy to hear what the golden boys were talking about at their table, added to how easy it was to see them from the corner of your eye.
“I heard Nayeong say we’re getting tomorrow and Friday off,” Zhong Chenle reported, taking a long drink of his water. “They’re just waiting to make it look like it was a last-minute decision.”
“Wow, student council president certified? Must be true, then,” Na Jaemin replied, turning to Lee Donghyuck, who was dejectedly scrolling through his phone. If you had to guess, he’d struggled with the English exam that had taken place earlier that day, seeing as he was notoriously good at Japanese and nothing else. “What's gonna happen with the big math midterm tomorrow, then? I don’t want it to be after break, I’d seriously rather die.”
Donghyuck barely glanced up from his phone before answering. “Rumor has it they’re gonna proctor it in the dorm study rooms. Separate everyone into time slots and stuff. They’re doing it for the third and first years, too.”
Chenle groaned, letting his head dangle on the edge of his chair. Mark Lee, student council vice president and perhaps the second most adored student in the school, didn’t comment on their rumor-spreading. You expected him to be the one they relied on most for information, but 
You raised your head slowly, looking over at their table. Mark Lee didn’t comment because he was staring straight at you.
Suhyeon noticed your staring, following your eyesight towards Mark, who was now staring lasers through your head. She dropped her chopsticks into the mostly empty bowl, standing up from her chair suddenly. The movement, along with the clattering of metal, scared you, causing you to snap your head back towards her.
“I don’t feel good.”
Her face was turning pale and her eyes began to water, which was considerably uncharacteristic for her. You looked up at her, glancing down at your half-finished spaghetti and garlic bread. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Can we go back to the dorms, now?” she asked, placing a hand on her chest. “I feel really nauseous.”
“Yeah, of course,” you said, standing up. “We can just leave the plates. Let’s go.”
You glanced over at the golden boys’ table, which had gone quiet. Mark was whispering something to Lee Jeno, who was also staring at you now, arms crossed over his chest and blonde hair (when he showed up blonde at the beginning of the year, everybody lost it) wisped over his forehead.
Gently, you wrapped a hand around her shoulder, hugging her to your side as you made a swift departure from the cafeteria. You got odd looks from other students, but, for the most part, nobody got in the way of your exit. You emerged straight into the dangerous wind, not stopping despite how much it threatened to blow you away.
Being out of sight of the golden boys took a huge weight off your shoulders, one you didn’t know was there. Sometimes you garnered looks given your well-known scholarship student title, but that was mostly from first years who were shocked that could even happen. As far as you were aware, you had nothing to do with the golden boys—not even something as simple as a group project or anything.
Had you done something wrong? Were your grades slipping? Was there something going on concerning your scholarship? The wave of questions washing out your mind was causing you to feel nauseous; you didn’t want Mark Lee looking at you like that. You didn’t want any one of them looking at you like that.
You practically threw the dormitory’s doors open, dodging past anyone who might’ve been in your way. You couldn’t get Mark Lee’s stare out of your mind, because it was unexplainable, because it was unprompted, because it could mean you’d be kicked out of the academy and sent back to your terrible parents who would berate you for forever, telling you that you’re worthless and no better than your freeloading, addict siblings.
You skid to a stop in front of the dorm’s nursing office, knocking three times and not waiting for a response. You pushed Suhyeon inside, grabbing the dorm keys from her jacket pocket and giving the resident nurse an unnerved look.
“She’s not feeling well,” you explained, giving Suhyeon no time to protest you dropping her off in the nurse’s office. Instead, you practically slammed the door shut, staring at the monotonous wood for a moment more.
Your heart was pounding. Your mind was spinning. You could barely breathe.
Quietly, you turned towards the end of the hall, where the stairwell waited for you to climb it. Suddenly, it occurred to you that there was a slim chance you could be climbing it for the last few times beginning today.
As you approached, you wondered what your siblings would do if you lost the scholarship. They’d laugh at you, sneer, and say “I thought you were supposed to be the perfect child?” They’d watch as your parents struck you, yelled at you for being worthless and nothing better than the rest of them. They’d force you to kneel on rice while they “mourned” the loss of their shot at wealth, asking you why you didn’t sleep around with the student body to try and ensure a husband.
“You’ll never be this pretty again,” they would say. “Who cares about your soulmate? Will a soulmate bring you money? Comfort? Look at what happened to your father and I when we chose each other over wealth. Do you want to be like us?”
You slammed the door of your dorm shut behind you, falling onto your knees. You realized that you’d never turned your study music off, or your lights, or anything before you’d left for the dining hall.
You looked down at your arms, letting yourself hold up your right hand. There, in the very center of your palm, was a code that you’d memorized the moment you began to comprehend it: LJN.
You picked yourself off the floor, suppressing the panic tears that threatened to spill over. Instead, you approached your desk, dropping down onto the chair and shoving your math textbook out of the way. You instead chose to focus on the human biology book, long and heavy, that sat underneath it. Weakly, you flipped through the pages, stopping on the first page of a chapter entitled “Soulmates: Biology’s Biggest Mystery.”
The first paragraph read, “the concept of soulmates has long been a pillar of human society. The existence of a ‘soulmate marking’ has purportedly been around since the beginning of time, but the earliest recordings of it come from ancient Mesopotamian tomes depicting a ‘perfect other half’ that ‘completes the human body.’"
You must’ve tattooed these words on your brain when you were studying, but, even then, you couldn’t help but feel mystified every time you read through it. You never cared too much about the whole soulmate craze, considering you were still a teenager and didn’t need to care about “forever” yet, but there was always a sort of comfort that you found in it. The existence of your soulmate confirmed that you would not be chained to your parents for the rest of your life, and, one day, you’d be able to leave them behind for a better, happier life.
You read on, tracing the words of the chapter with your index finger.
“Around 97% of the population have a set of initials written somewhere on their body, one that they’re born with. Their soulmate will have a marking on the same part of their body with the coinciding set of initials. There have been no instances of these initials changing, even upon the death of one’s soulmate, meaning the connection is entirely permanent.”
There was someone out there who would pull you out of this. You were sure of it.
And, when that happened, your life would truly begin anew.
Tumblr media
ii. the titans lost the war, and the olympians banished the titans to tartarus.
From beginning to end, your math midterm was a mess.
Sure enough, classes were canceled, but they proceeded with finishing things up before your week-long break began and all information previously learned left your mind. You’d been placed in a 3:30 time slot to take your exam, along with about 15 of your classmates, in the dormitory study room that you’d never once step foot into.
Upon arrival at 3:10, you were faced with the sad truth that both Huang Renjun and Lee Jeno were also in your time slot. Initially, you avoided their gaze, shrinking into the corner of the lounge and hiding behind your phone and wired earbuds. But, you were learning the world would never be kind to you because, the moment Lee Donghyuck emerged from the 1:30 time slot, he had a perfect view of you.
You subconsciously tried to hide once more, hunching down and allowing for your hair to fall over your face. You increased the volume of your music, a random, synthy song you’d fallen in love with some time last week, and tried to ignore how Lee Donghyuck’s gaze made you feel like an internationally wanted criminal.
Once they took note of you, the staring did not cease. Lee Donghyuck left for his dorm while you waited for your proctor to announce things were ready (which happened about a minute and a half after Donghyuck left).
You ripped your earbud out when you saw her appear out of the corner of your eye, jerking up to look at her and wishing your heart would stop beating so fast. “There’s assigned seating, which I will call out now. When you hear your name, please sit behind the person last called. If that person is sitting in the very back, please begin the next row in the front.”
Huang Renjun was called third, which took a small weight off your shoulders. That didn’t stop Jeno from looking at you, stealing glances and sometimes blatantly staring with those terrifyingly cold eyes of his.
“[First] [Last].”
You nearly tripped over your feet getting up, leaving your small bag along with your cell phone and earbuds on the chair you sat waiting on. You held your pen and pencil so tightly in your hand that your knuckles were pale, and you must’ve looked sick to the proctor, given the look she offered you as you passed beside her.
Your eyes narrowed in on the empty seat behind the last girl that was called—the student council secretary, Yeji—and you swiftly approached, half-returning the smile Yeji gave as you walked past.
Huang Renjun was one seat behind you and two rows over, meaning he would barely be able to see you. If you were lucky, Jeno would be the first to start his row, meaning he would be in front of you and therefore it would be impossible for him to look at you.
You weren’t sure why you still relied on luck when pretty much all of it was wasted when you got into this godforsaken school on a scholarship.
The proctor called an Osaki Shotaro, who came and took the seat behind you. Then, a Kim Juyeon who began the next row. Then, a Liu Yangyang who sat next to you.
“Lee Jeno.”
You could’ve shot yourself right then and there, especially as he sauntered over to the seat, dropping into it and immediately beginning to spin his pencil around his fingers. You could practically feel his stare like lasers being shot through the back of your head, unending and unwavering as the proctor called the final girl and shut the door behind her.
“Thank you for arriving smoothly and on time.”
You wished you would have skipped. Skipping might’ve cost you your scholarship and your future, but, if you got Suhyeon on your side and claimed you’d woken up severely ill but couldn’t make it to the nurse because Suhyeon had the 10:30 time slot and you woke up at 11, you might’ve been able to make it to the makeup date.
If only God had been kind enough to warn you about this one.
The proctor began to hand out your answer sheets and tests while droning on and on about rules, her words going in and out of your ears like the pointless documentaries your history teacher enjoyed showing. As if you hadn’t taken five of these exams already, she regurgitated these rules, causing your mind to spin more and your leg to bounce harder.
“You may begin.”
You barely began at all. For the entire test, your mind wasn’t focused on derivatives or any sort of equation you’d spent weeks memorizing—no, your mind was focused on Lee Jeno, Mark Lee, all the golden boys, and why they were suddenly so focused on you. You wrote down numbers and letters, plus signs and square roots, all while thinking about what they could want from you.
With every page flip, with every boxed answer and filled-in bubble, your mind fell deeper and deeper into your panicked trance. At some point, you began writing on autopilot with no mental capacity to tell whether or not what you wrote was correct. A part of you wondered why you cared so much when you were obviously about to become the first-ever scholarship student at the academy to lose their scholarship, to be the first investment that brought a net loss instead of a net gain.
Before you knew it, the test was over, and it was 5:15 pm on the dot. You felt like throwing up, a million spiders crawling up your stomach and throat as you stared at what you wholeheartedly believed to be a failed math test. Your mind spun—math had always been your worst subject, and you’d always teetered on the edge with it. As long as you excelled in other subjects, you’d be fine, but there was an absolute need to ensure you did not fall below rank five.
As long as you were never below five, you would be fine.
The proctor snatched your test up from your desk, taking a once over with a smile. “Congratulations on finishing, Ms. [Last],” she said, a formality she’d repeated to everyone but carried a special weight when she spoke to you.
You wanted to reach for it, take it back and run away with the paper. You couldn’t remember a single question you’d answered, let alone whether or not the answers were right. This would be the first (and last) time you’d drop below rank five in your exams, and you’d be packing up your bags when the grades dropped next week. This was the end of your paradise, all thanks to a few awry looks from the academy’s beloved golden boys.
“All papers have been collected. You are free to return to your dorms,” the proctor announced, placing the stack on her desk. You lingered on for a moment, staring at your hands and focusing on the pressure that weighed your shoulders down every waking moment of the day.
Once, Suhyeon was trying to get you to go shopping with her while you were studying. You refused vehemently, citing your grades as the reason why you couldn’t watch her spend thousands upon thousands on clothes she’d never wear while you cringed at every price tag you saw.
With one of her usual, airy sighs, she collapsed onto her bed, mumbling a hollow statement that stuck in your mind: “[First] [Last], forever crushed by the weight of the world.”
Your self wallowing was cut off by Lee Jeno stopping in front of your desk, looking down at you with his terrible cold stare. You returned his focus, fighting off the urge to curl into yourself and tell him to never speak to you again.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, shoving his hands into his blazer pockets. “I’ll meet you in the library at 8.”
You gave him a look that could only be described as confusion, tilting your head at the notion.
“The library closes at 5 tonight.”
“Does that matter to me?”
He scoffed a bit, not paying you another second. Instead, he sauntered off with Huang Renjun, who gave him a steady slap on the shoulder as he walked out. Renjun followed behind, saying, “You’ve got guts now, huh?” while continuing to hammer on his shoulder and laugh at his “guts.” All you could do was slowly lift yourself from your desk chair, thinking about what you would do upon your return to Jinhae-gu. What your ex-classmates, who’d screamed and cried with you when you received your scholarship notice in the middle of the school day, would say when you walked in, a husk of your former self.
What you’d do when you saw your parents and siblings again.
“Ms. [Last], now that exams are over for second years, I suggest you stop by Miss Choi’s office as soon as possible. I know how much pressure you’re under to retain such perfect grades,” the proctor said, causing you to be torn away from your mind once again.
You smiled weakly at her, nodding. “I will, ma’am. Thank you for your concern.”
“It’s no issue, sweetheart,” she said, dropping a hand onto your shoulder. “We all want to see you succeed.”
You bowed at her as a way to get her to stop touching you, rushing out of the classroom. You’d rather die than go see Miss Choi, who picked you apart too easily in your opinion. You didn’t like the way she seemed to know how you were feeling, how she tried to teach you how to carry the world, because Miss Choi—an alma mater of the academy by paid tuition and not by scholarship—would never know what this felt like, even if she followed you around for three months straight.
With your bag retrieved, you began your march up the stairwell, a new anger brewing in your heart. When you were gone, when there was a lack of honor student to bring up in the interviews and magazine features, when you worked up the nerve to post a forum piece on how the academy destroyed any bit of happiness you had, they’d understand that this wasn’t just academic pressure.
Suhyeon was right—you were forever crushed by the weight of the world because nobody else here wanted to carry their weight and believed there was no one better suited to pick it up other than you.
Tumblr media
iii. tartarus was a deep abyss used as a prison for the titan gods,
“You can’t go out right now, the weather is too awful,” Suhyeon insisted, scrambling to reach for your keys. You grabbed them before her, dropping them in the pocket of the jacket you’d draped over your lounge clothes. “It’s dark and the snow is barreling down, [First]. Where could you possibly go right now?”
You bit your lip, staring down at her. She was dressed in her pajamas, practically ready for bed by this point, with a matching Hello Kitty pajama set and a headband pulling her hair away from her face. A pair of glasses sat low on the bridge of her nose, sliding down further the more she tried to discourage you from leaving.
“I just want to take a walk. It stopped snowing a while ago, so there’s no barreling down happening, and I have my snow boots on. Everything should be fine,” you insisted, slipping your gloves on. Suhyeon went to stand in front of the door, blocking your exit to the outside and further delaying your meet-up with Mr. Perfect.
“Promise you’ll be back before room checks.”
You sighed. If whatever Lee Jeno needed to speak to you about was important, he must’ve put something in place to ensure you wouldn’t get in trouble for missing room checks, but you couldn’t be sure. You nodded, waving her out of the way.
“I’ll be back before room checks. Swear on it.”
Uncomfortably, Suhyeon stepped away from the door, allowing you to pass without a word. You slipped out of your room, giving her one last glance before you shut the door behind you and isolated yourself in the dorm corridor. It was cold—everything was cold—and dark, with dim LEDs illuminating the hall floors and nothing else providing any sort of light. It was akin to that of a movie theater's stairs—just lit up enough that you could make it down the stairs without plunging to your doom.
You made your way to the stairwell, cringing as your shoes clicked against the wood of the stairs. You hoped that Jeno had done anything to protect you from the wrath of the late night staff, but you wondered if getting caught meant anything when you’d be gone in a week.
The dorm’s common area (or, more simply, the first floor) was completely devoid of everyone, as aligned with the school rules, which said no students should be out of their rooms past 7:30 on a weekday to avoid issues with student health or student safety. Room checks began at 9, which essentially meant you could be out and about until then, but nobody wanted their parents finding out they were screwing around instead of studying.
You took no time in crossing the common room, weaving through tables and couches in hopes that a teacher didn’t appear and tell you to get back to your room before this “hurt your future,” as they liked to tell you. When the doors to the dorm opened, you could’ve sworn you felt your heart drop into your feet—but, the doors opening did not yield a teacher or any staff member.
It yielded Na Jaemin.
Upon seeing you, he gave you a cordial smile and a nod. Jaemin was Lee Jeno’s second-in-command, his beginning and his end. From what you’d heard from classmates, they’d grown up together, being neighbors from the day they were born and being friends from the day they could speak. You barely saw one without the other, and you couldn’t lie when you said part of you was expecting Jaemin would be in the library along with Jeno tonight.
“Good evening, [First],” he greeted. You offered him an uncomfortable nod back, accompanied by an unsure smile and your shaking hands. “Library’s unlocked.”
You blinked a couple of times, suddenly clueless as to what he was talking about. Na Jaemin was blinding, from the way he smiled at you to the way he even looked at you.
“Ah, um, thanks,” you said, coming to your senses. “Sleep well, or something.”
Jaemin chuckled, nodding. “You too. Good luck!”
He passed by you without another glance, another word, disappearing into the men’s side of the second-year dorms. You watched his figure retreat for a moment, wondering if you’d run into any other golden boys on your way to the library. You hoped Jaemin was the only one.
As you emerged into the cold, night air, stepping onto the snow and sinking in almost immediately, you now found yourself focused on your brief interaction with Na Jaemin.
A while back, you’d heard that he didn’t have a soulmate.
You were just starting out, and, given the nature of your enrollment at the school, you’d had a slight amount of popularity. People hung around you with the idea that you’d somehow trick them into good study habits and unrivaled intelligence (to be honest, people still do), and that inevitably came with you hearing whatever gossip traveled around your class at the time.
“You know Na Jaemin? The boy who started this year and immediately made it in with Mark Lee’s crowd?” a girl asked you, sliding into your study table at the library. Instantly, she’d caught the attention of the other three students who asked to study with you, drawing them away from the math worksheet you were all working on. “Ah, [First], Mark Lee and his crew have been attending the academy since elementary school, so they kinda own the place. They never let anybody in with them until Na Jaemin.”
Upon hearing that, you’d mostly been impressed that somebody could afford that many years of tuition here, let alone send their child into academic hell from the moment they’d learned to read. Suhyeon hadn’t told you that she’d also lived the same life, yet, so this was your first exposure to what most students called the “originals” of the academy.
“He doesn’t have a soulmate.”
A sort of surprise settled in around the table, given how rare it was to be born soulmate-less. There was a “no way” thrown out, along with a couple of gasps of disbelief. You’d felt bad for him, wondering what it was like to live in a world where (mostly) everybody but you had a universally-fated life partner.
Your tablemates didn’t seem to think similarly to you.
“God, my mother would be overjoyed if I was soulmateless,” one of your classmates, Chaeyeon, hummed, leaning back on her chair and resting her elbow on the back of it. You turned to her, shocked that was her first reaction upon hearing about Na Jaemin’s soulmateless-ness. “He must be the golden child of his family.”
“He’s the youngest, too, so he was inevitably going to be the kid they married off. That’s one less person they’ll need to pay off.”
Na Jaemin, whether the rumor was true or not, was your way of finding out that rich people often trapped their younger children in loveless marriages, and paid off their soulmates to keep them from ever forming a relationship. They’d even had a saying for it: “An accomplished father’s best child is the child who can marry for money with no regrets.”
It horrified you because that was how your parents thought. You couldn’t imagine a life where everybody, not just your parents, thought that way.
As quietly as you could, you pushed the door to the library open, finding yourself in the sprawling lobby you were so acquainted with. Despite the academy being a lower grade school, the library was the kind that you’d find articles on and the kind where people would travel just to see it.
Usually, it was locked to the high heavens when it was closed due to its extensive collection of books no high schooler needed to read, but tonight was different. You wondered if Mark stole the keys from Nayeong and gave them to Jeno.
You shuffled towards the stairs, wondering if Lee Jeno was going to make you search for him. Your heart began pounding in your chest once again, thoughts of expulsion (losing your scholarship wasn’t technical expulsion, but it might as well have been) and disappointing everyone you know with a simple 89 on a math test.
The second floor was completely dark, which was creepier than you wanted it to be. Assuming Jeno wasn’t waiting for you in a pitch-black room, you continued up the stairwell, telling yourself Jeno wasn’t going to inform you of your impending doom despite the fact that he was a student, and that he wasn’t even on the student council.
You couldn’t imagine whatever else he wanted to talk to you about, though. You weren’t in the same sphere, hell, even in the same universe as each other—he hung around the golden boys and nobody else, breaking every rule the school had to offer and using his father’s name as an excuse. You hung out with the kids who lived closer to the bottom (whatever bottom meant at this god-forsaken school), the kids whose grades had a real impact on them rather than the ones who went to school to say they did.
The third floor was also completely dark but gave way to the dim lighting that lit up the fourth floor. For some reason, Lee Jeno had decided to taint your preferred study floor with whatever he had to tell you, but you supposed he had no clue that it was your usual study spot. After all, you were in different universes.
Taking the final few steps up to the fourth floor, you noticed that, while it was illuminated, there was no sign of Jeno anywhere. The lights were on and it was dead silent, with not a single movement or noise to even hint at another person being inside; but, from the way one of the tables had its chairs sprawled about and from the light smell of coffee, you could tell people had been in here recently.
If you had to guess who, it was the rest of the golden boys, given your run-in with Jaemin in the lobby of your dorm. You wondered where the rest of them went, particularly Donghyuck and Renjun, who hadn’t ventured through the lounge of the second-year dorm—hopefully, they weren’t still here, as the emptiness was somewhat calming.
You decided to venture further into the fourth floor, walking past the proof-of-life table and entering the rows upon rows of shelves. The fourth floor was the most academic, being the quietest at any given time. Nobody liked scaling four flights of stairs with the sole purpose of studying, so the only people who did were the ones who wanted to avoid the quiet yet prominent chatter on the lower floors.
And the golden boys apparently, but only past closing.
The silence of the room made your heart slow down to a calmer rate, as well as making any panic you were previously feeling dissipate. You were sure that, the moment you found Jeno, it would resume where it left off, but you were grateful for these few moments of calm before the storm you were about to step into.
You continued walking through the shelves, scanning the book’s spines and their titles as if you hadn’t seen them nearly every day for the past two years. You allowed the tips of your fingers to brush along the many different textures and indents of the well-loved books before you. If you were truly at the end of your time here, you ought to write a love letter to this library, thanking it for the countless hours you spent reading and learning in hopes that you, one day, would be a peer of the people around you and not just a spectacle.
At the edge of the shelves, there was another small clearing of desks and then a couple of couches that most students used to take naps during finals season, and that's where Lee Jeno waited for you. The moment you appeared from the woodwork, he noticed you, staring at you from the corner of his eye.
“I was thinking you weren’t going to come,” he said offhandedly. You furrowed your brows, pulling your phone out of your pocket—it was 8:17.  You hadn’t even noticed how slowly you were traveling, seeing as you left your dorm at 8:03.
As you’d expected, your heart had begun beating out of its chest, and you, once again, began to prepare for the worst. You slowly approached the couch adjacent to him, sitting down as slowly as you could. You sat like a board, stiff and nervous, waiting for him to explain himself even in the slightest.
Instead, he leaned over to the coffee table in front of you, pushing a small coffee cup towards you. You stared at it for a second, confused and a bit freaked out, but you picked it up nonetheless, thankful he’d thought to get you something warm. He continued to sit in silence, leaving you with a couple of moments to study him thoroughly.
Before today, you’d never really looked at him. Sure, you’d given him a couple of nervous glances, but there was something about Lee Jeno that made you feel inferior. He was the son of a major CEO, one of the biggest conglomerates in all of Korea (and maybe even Asia), somebody you would’ve never even dreamed of meeting three years ago. He was above the rules of the school, above the rules everywhere, dangling his parents’ name and a wad of cash above anyone who tried to tell him no.
His hair was bleached blonde, but it seemed so healthy that you could’ve mistaken it for his natural hair color if you hadn’t known any better. He’d shed all his snow-protectant layers, which were sprawled out along the remainder of the couch next to him. Despite the lack of need for it today, he was dressed in his usual uniform—a black blazer, white turtleneck, and black and green plaid pants—which was a blatant violation of the dress code due to the lack of a polo shirt, but you’d never see him get in trouble for it. He sat with an aura of regality that you could only try and imitate, with his leg lazily crossed over the other and his arm resting on the back of the couch. In his other hand was a cup of coffee like yours, but his was so hot that it was steaming from the lid’s opening.
“I didn’t know your last name until Mark told me,” he finally said, taking a sip of his burning hot coffee. You mimicked his movements, taking a sip from your own, trying to fight off any physical reaction to the bitterness of it.
“What do you mean?”
Jeno sighed, holding up his hand. You stared for a moment, narrowing your eyes in an attempt to make out the small letters on his palm. Then, all too quickly, the truth flooded your mind—the initials on your hand, LJN, and the initials on his, your very own set.
It shocked you so bad that you nearly dropped the cup of coffee. The reveal did nothing to soothe your nerves and, instead, amped up the panic a lot more. Your head spun at the thought, and, while you hated to say it, all you could think about was the negatives.
What would your parents say when they found out your soulmate was Lee Jeno, of all people? The son of a CEO-and-politician, the son of a man who drowned in money, a person who was born rich and would die rich? They’d never leave you alone once finding out, demanding check after check to ensure they never said a word about their relation to the Lees. They’d torment you for the rest of your life, and you’d forever be stuck under their reign of terror, forever their child, forever their moneybag.
On top of that, you’d never have an accomplishment that was fully tied to you again. People would see you as a connection, and they’d give you opportunities based upon that connection rather than based on your natural ability. You’d be respected because of who your soulmate was, not because of who you were, and you’d end up like the women you saw on TV—lifeless dolls with the title of “wife” and nothing else.
You thought meeting your soulmate was supposed to be this fateful encounter under the stars, the moment where you met the one person who would love you most. You expected to be mystified, sent to a world of love and comfort, sent to a world where your problems were nonexistent and the sun was shining and the birds sang tales of love and togetherness. You wanted to feel as though you were being embraced by constellations, struck by Cupid’s arrow as you stared at the person the universe decided was your fateful match.
Instead, you stared at Lee Jeno, and all you could feel was an overwhelming sense of disappointment.
“Well,” you mumbled, unsure of what you should do now. “What now?”
He didn’t seem to have a direct answer, either, simply taking another sip of his coffee. You mentally questioned how he was able to consume something that hot without burning the hell out of his tongue, but that wasn’t something you needed to dwell on.
When he didn’t respond, you took it upon yourself to ask another question and drill until you got all the answers you wanted.
“How long have you known?”
This was something he seemed to know the answer to. Without skipping a beat, he replied, “Mark told me about eight months ago after he saw your name on the award listings.”
To that, you felt your heart dry out a little bit more than it already was. Eight months was a long time to wait after knowing who your soulmate might be, especially considering that, eight months ago, he could’ve easily contacted you before the break between school years began. Wanting more out of him, you stayed silent, still trying to figure out what exactly you were feeling at that moment.
“I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure of it, but Suhyeon told me your initials about three months ago. That’s when my friends found out and started hounding me to tell you.”
Suhyeon? Last you checked, she was horrified by the thought of even being near the golden boys, let alone speaking to them. In what situation would she have been around them without you, especially given that she was talking to them? It seemed Lee Jeno was the sort of person who answered a question by creating more, which was something you didn’t appreciate in the slightest.
“So why now, then? You obviously weren’t in a hurry.”
He took another slow, awkward sip of his coffee, and, if you weren’t insane, it seemed like he was nervous to you. That ignited a sense of pride in you, and you wanted to assume most people would never stress Lee Jeno out in their lives. At the same time, you wanted to hurry things up and leave so that you wouldn’t have to think about him until you needed to.
“I have a family dinner next week, and my dad…my dad wants me to start talking to Lim Nayeong because he thinks I should marry her. No offense to Nayeong, but I’d rather die than marry her right out of high school, and you’re…the only way I can convince him otherwise.”
The room went dead silent. You were unsure how to respond to a declaration like that without being mean, and, with the quirk of your lips, you couldn’t help but allow the flood gates to open.
“I’m sorry, but how in the world am I supposed to help? In what world is marriage to me more advantageous? I'm a random hick from the countryside who got lucky and struck it big. If anything, I’d make your father more inclined to marry you off.” You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at how ridiculous this was, a hand hovering over your mouth and your eyes filling with laughter-born tears. Jeno stared at you incredulously, not even reacting to your sudden outburst in the slightest.
“I’m sorry man, but you might be better off taking literally anybody else with the same initials as me. I’m not the help you need.”
“So you wouldn't care if your soulmate married someone else?”
The undertone of anger in his voice washed away your laughter in an instant, nearly making you jump. You dropped your hand to your lap, sighing—you wondered if you’d end up pouring out your whole life story to him tonight. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been waiting my whole life to meet my soulmate in hopes that they’d be some knight in shining armor. After these midterms, though, I’m thinking my scholarship is going to be revoked and I’ll be back to the land in the poor and underprivileged. Sorry, Jeno, but, once again, you’d be better off picking somebody else to bring along. I'm not going to let myself fall in love with something painfully unrealistic, even if that something is my universal other-half.”
Jeno seemed to be exasperated at every word that left your mouth, and you weren’t sure how you were meant to handle the increasing hostility that was starting to emanate from your supposed soulmate. The more things went south, the more you wanted to laugh and scream at yourself for thinking your soulmate would be some prince from a foreign land. You were so childish, thinking you’d get anything out of the whole ‘soulmate’ ruse—at least you’d be paid off after Nayeong got married to Jeno. Then, you might be able to emancipate yourself with a good lawyer and blackmail the Lees into more money for a nice, Seoul apartment to rent.
“Okay. Let’s make a bet, then. If you score over me in four out of the six subjects, you’ll be in my car on the way to my parents’ house next Friday. Deal?”
Even with your continued top-five status on the class leaderboards, you don’t think you’d ever managed to score above Lee Jeno in four subjects. The only things you consistently dominated in were English, Literature, and History—you’d achieved first place in all three during every single exam season you’d had at the academy—and the rest—sciences, math, anything STEM—you barely achieved the top five rankings that were required of you.
For some reason, you were antsy to receive your test scores, now. You’d never made a bet on whether or not you’d do worse than somebody, ever. It was nearly exhilarating, and you now felt there was a reward to the end of your scholarship: at the very, very least, you wouldn’t have to attend a Lee family dinner with Lee Jeno, who you were finding to be very unpleasant.
“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed, standing up from the couch and looking down at him. “Deal.”
With that, you approached the rows of books, leaving Jeno to consider what he thought he'd accomplish by bringing you along to anything.
Tumblr media
iv. and most of the titans would spend eternity there.
Three days into break, and you haven’t done much of anything. Suhyeon was out with her other rich friends, her “very own posse” as she liked to call it, and had spent the past couple of days staying off campus—it left you with a lot of time to think.
For the most part, you wondered what would happen in the unlikely case Jeno won your bet. You’d never had to speak to someone like that, someone who wasn’t a wealthy teacher or classmate—his parents were the real, unbridled deal. People who spent thousands every day, not blinking an eye at four-digit totals or the state of their bank account.
It scared you. A lot.
You could dish out a big word now and then, offer a cordial smile, or impress with your general knowledge of the world, but there was nothing about you that would impress a multi-billionaire. Not even a party trick or a joke you’d spent a million years formulating.
That fear, rivaling the fear of expulsion, was what brought you to your current position in the corner of the campus on a rarely-cleaned picnic table, your head in your arms and your eyes trained towards a rose bush. According to the clock on your phone, class rankings had been posted eleven minutes ago, and you had no intention of checking any time soon.
Win or lose, there was no positive for you, and you didn't like that. In any other circumstance, retaining the ability to attend classes here and gaining letters of recommendation was the best possibility for you, as it would be for anyone else. However, the world had to curse you with an old-money, top-elite soulmate rather than an honest, just-rich-enough-to-afford-tuition soulmate—you seriously had run out of luck when you procured the scholarship.
“Oh? What are you doing out here, Miss Honor Student?” Na Jaemin asked, scaring you at the suddenness of his appearance. You jerked up, looking towards him flustered and a bit embarrassed. He looked at you questioningly, his hands cupped and held near his chest.
“What are you doing out here?”
“I suppose you asking makes more sense,” he laughed, approaching one of the rose bushes you’d been staring at. “I found a bee crawling on the ground. Poor thing has a broken wing,” he hummed, reaching his hands out to a flower. You didn’t try and second guess his words, believing his alibi without needing any proof. Instead, you looked away, your stomach crawling at the thought of carrying a bee across campus like that. “Although, haven’t rankings been posted? Anyone would expect you to be first in line.”
“I’m not worked up over it or anything,” you mumbled, resisting the urge to put your head back down and block him out of your world. “Going now would just yield a bunch of crowding around a tiny bulletin board. It’s too difficult.”
“If you started walking now, I’d bet the crowd’s mostly dissipated,” he suggested, coming back around to where he could be in your line of sight. “Want to walk together?”
Feeling cornered, you stood up, brushing the dust and dirt off the bottom of your bag. Jaemin smiled satisfyingly, offering an arm for you to take. In the most non-discreet way possible, you pretended to not see the offer, brushing past him quickly. He didn’t let the act bruise his ego, though, following behind you in earnest. You wondered if, due to your relationship with his best friend, he felt the need to ensure that you had no ill feelings towards him; or, maybe, he resonated with you, as both of you started at the academy much later than most of your classmates.
“I heard the big reveal didn’t go as nicely as it could have,” he began, keeping pace with you almost perfectly. Your steps were completely in sync, and you couldn’t help but notice how he’d done it on purpose rather than coincidentally. Another thing you’d heard about Na Jaemin was that he was a robot, but most people were joking when they said that—maybe, they could’ve been right.
“Well, we’re not exactly the most chemical pair.”
“Oh, don’t say that,” Jaemin said, lightly elbowing you in the arm. “He just doesn’t know how romance works. He’s all antsy right now because he told his dad to not invite Nayeong and her family to their very rare family dinners and used you as the excuse. I told him—I said, ‘Jeno, you can’t use your soulmate to get out of marriage unless you actually know your soulmate.’ And he got all pissy at me. I tried to make him make it the least bit romantic, but it sounds like he didn’t try at all.”
“He got me coffee.”
“Coffee is bitter and unromantic, though. I’d know.” Jaemin giggled, putting his arms behind his head. You approached the entrance to a corridor, which would effectively put you on the path to the bulletin. But, Jaemin took a sharp turn, leading you through the long way to get you there.
“Are you a ladies’ man? Romance-expert, or something?” you asked jokingly, not expecting any sort of genuine response. The closer you got to the truth made you start to get nervous again, words getting stuck at the top of your throat, impossible to speak yet impossible to swallow back down.
“Maybe I am.”
Jaemin looked towards you, giving you a look that you were half sure was him reading your mind and learning everything he possibly could about you. He was incredibly good at blending into you, even if you hadn’t talked much; everything he said coaxed more out of you, and every movement created a new line of conversation.
Every rumor you’d heard about him—so good at befriending people that it’s scary, a perfect speaker, the most eloquent student at the school—was proving to be true. He was monstrous, somebody you surely wouldn’t want to have on your bad side.
“You and I are similar, you know,” he said, tearing his away from you to look towards the door to the main school building. He opened it for you, waiting for you to enter before he did himself.
“How so?”
“My family’s new to this whole ‘rich and famous’ thing,” he began. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, watching as he looked up to the ceiling. His eyes glittered like stars, reflecting everything they saw to a T. “We’re, like, the ultimate definition of new money. My dad hit it big with Jeno’s dad, got on his good side, and became the chair of a subsidiary…so I’m in a limbo of sorts.”
“God, I wish my dad hit it big with Jeno’s,” you snorted, picking at the nail polish coating your fingers. “Is that why you came in at the beginning of high school rather than earlier?”
“My dad wanted me to experience a little bit of what he did, at the very least. Both my mom and dad thought it’d be too much if they moved me from here to a normal high school, though…thus, the order.”
You nodded, feeling a pang of fear as you turned a corner and a crowd of whispering teenagers came into view. Your conversation with Jaemin ended the moment they did, instead making way for what, no matter what, would be the worst moments of your life so far.
The moment you reached the crowd, people began to stare at you, whispering under their breaths as they passed. It was like being the center exhibit at an expensive art show, being a piece made entirely for public reaction. The more you walked, the more the red sea parted, giving you a clear path to the bulletin board. Within seconds, you’d reached it, scanning from the bottom up.
Number two was Jeno, to no one’s surprise. In order, his rankings had been second for English, second for history, second for literature, first for math, second for science, and second in his elective.
One above him was you.
First in English. First in history. First in literature. Second for math. First for science. First for your elective.
At that moment, you could’ve passed out. You stared at the line of ones (and a single two) in front of you, wondering how in the world you achieve something like that. For the past two years, you’d battled against private tutors and possible instances of cheating, always barely being able to hit the mark for every single subject. You never struggled in any of the humanities, but…second in math after your catastrophe of a test and first in science—physics specifically—felt like an absolute lie to you.
It felt unreal. It felt like you’d become the kids whose parents paid for their grades, who spent hours with private tutors that cost hundreds of thousands of won per hour. It felt like, somehow, you’d hit a peak even though you were only seventeen.
Your ears seemed to open, hearing everything the students around you said. “She’s never let Lee Jeno pass her once,” someone said, whispering to their friend.
“Do you think she gave him math as a pity grade? I heard they were in the same time slot last Thursday.”
You blinked rapidly, trying to figure things out amongst the chatter. Every word that came out of your peers' mouths was a word that clouded your mind, creating new ideas that you’d never once considered.
“She’s a commoner and she’s beating Lee Jeno. That ought to hurt the Lee name, right?”
Since when have you become Jeno’s rival? For a simple stroke of luck on a few tests? You felt like you were going insane, your feet cemented to the floor and your hands shaking from the rush of adrenaline, mixed with an intense and sudden wave of relief, that came with reading your scholarship was intact.
“Protip,” Jaemin said, grabbing your attention with ease. He seemed to drag you back down to Earth, returning you to the pedestal on which you were expected to carry the world. “There’s only one thing that’ll put you above the title of student council president and daughter of a filthy rich tech couple, and that’s this.”
“Nayeong ranks first every year, too. This’ll barely help.”
“I don’t think so,” Jaemin chuckled. You looked at him, raising an accusatory brow; he mirrored your expression, looking down at you with eyes that sparkled with mischief and utter madness. “Miss Nayeong ranked seventh this time around.”
Tumblr media
v. unlike his fellow titans, atlas had a different punishment.
There wasn’t a single word to be shared between you and Jeno, and you couldn’t ever see yourself getting to a point where there was.
After he’d sent you a text—where he got your number, you’re unsure—asking for your general clothing measurements, then dropping off a dress with a price tag you never, ever wanted to face again, you hadn’t spoken a word to each other.
Even as you climbed into the sleek, black car that waited for you about a couple of blocks away from campus, he didn’t so much as greet you, deciding that telling the driver to get going was a much better use of his time. For the man who got so upset when you showed little to no care about your soulmate status, you were quite surprised at his unwillingness to speak to you.
A part of you wanted to keep up the silence, to ignore the slight tug in your heart and the fact that you needed to know at least something about him so his parents didn’t get suspicious, but you weren’t going to embarrass yourself with him. Especially not in front of the moneybags that he called parents.
So, when you reached about ten minutes before your estimated time of arrival at a fancy hotel (rather than his house, which was the former location of this family dinner), you began to fiddle with your handbag, pulling out a small, folded piece of paper.
“This is my transcript thus far,” you said, breaking the silence between you two. He looked away from the window, staring down at the hand that carried the paper. “Someone told me your dad was big on grades. Thought it’d be useful for your argument.”
He pulled it from your fingertips, much gentler than you’d assume from Lee Jeno, and his eyes lingered on your hands. You’d painted your nails for the occasion, wiping off the half-chipped coat you previously had on in favor of a nicer, more sophisticated color. It matched the dress well, along with the makeup you’d begged Suhyeon to help you put on without telling her the occasion for it.
“Nice job on the nails,” he commented, looking away from them and putting the folded piece of paper in his pocket. “You look expensive.”
“Is that not the goal?”
“That’s precisely the goal. I need you to look like I dote on you,” Jeno mumbled, dropping his hands into his lap. “Sorry, but I’m going to really play up the scholarship student thing.”
“No worries. I understand not wanting to marry someone you don’t know.”
The more you thought about it, the more you began to pity him. Worrying about a money-based arranged marriage was a very first-world-problems-esque issue to be having, you could respect that it was something he didn’t want. You just wished he was asking you to be his scapegoat as a lie rather than as a reality—you’d feel much better if you were pretending to be his soulmate.
“I don’t think my father will be too interested in the details of our relationship, he’ll just want proof you’ll be able to measure up to Nayeong,” Jeno said, ignoring your earlier comment. “Activities, grades, I don’t care what, play up everything about yourself. He doesn’t care about in-laws, he cares about the money you can bring in.”
“Wow, sounds like a lovely man.”
Jeno cleared his throat, made uncomfortable by your short quip. “He is when he’s not talking about his paycheck.”
To you, it sounded like Jeno was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince you, but you weren’t in the mood to pry. Instead, you looked out the window once again, cringing at how snowy and cold it looked outside. You were going to freeze in this dress, even when you were wearing insulated tights underneath, even when it was long-sleeved and pretty thick.
When the hotel came into view, you embarrassingly recognized it as a place many social media celebrities enjoyed coming to. In your few moments of off time, you were sure you’d seen the outside in a few lifestyle vlogs or food review videos. It was fairly trendy; you had to give Jeno’s parents props for that.
Opposite to your reaction, Jeno scoffed at the sight of the luxury inn, evidently unsatisfied with it. “Of course she’d pick here,” he murmured to himself. You wondered if his siblings—who were going to be attending as you’d learned this morning—had been in charge of picking the restaurant, which would make more sense given its online reputation. He shared that he had two younger sisters and a younger brother, all of whom weren’t in high school yet, so you’d never met them or seen them before.
The driver pulled up to the extravagant porte-cochere—the fancy driveway outside of a hotel, which Suhyeon had taught you the name of—and slowed to a stop, but neither you nor Jeno moved.
“Remember,” he said, putting on the coaching voice he used to relay this to you earlier. “My mom will be the weak spot, so focus on her more than my dad. We both need to fight when my father grows argumentative, but you need to be more tactical and logical. My siblings will be on our side so don’t try to make a case to them.”
“What are their names again?”
“In order, Yeojin, Soeun, and Sunwoo.”
You recited their names, wondering why Jeno had received such an odd name compared to the rest of them. Nevertheless, you made the first move to exit the stationary car, regretting it the moment the night air hit your skin. A deep chill cemented itself in your stomach, and you began to wonder how it managed to be so unimaginably cold at all. Jeno followed behind you, mumbling something else as he joined you outside.
You briefly considered how this was going to go, given you’d never tried to act like you were in love with someone before. You were sure Jeno was a pro at fabricating things, plastering on disingenuous smiles and acting interested in the monetary, arrogant talk of wealthy adults. The most you’d done was work at your local convenience store for a summer.
The moment he joined up next to you, he linked his arm with yours, and you were off. You were thankful for the warmth you received from him, even if it was slightly uncomfortable given your situation. You preferred being warm over being comfortable in most situations.
The doors slid open automatically, leading you into a world entirely separate from your own. You tried to suppress the urge to ogle at everything, to approach the plants that lined the lobby and check if they were real, to run for the sole purpose of hearing your heels clack against the marble floor. You kept your jaw screwed shut and your eyes forward, even if all you wanted to do was “ooh” at the chandeliers on the ceiling.
You’d never forget this moment. Being a customer at a place you’d exclusively seen through rich influencers’ and celebrities’ social media felt ridiculous.
One glance up was all you allowed yourself—a simple, lingering stare—but it put you in last place anyway. When you looked back down, there was a girl, no older than 15, sprinting towards you, a big smile on her face. Jeno dropped your arm and pulled the girl into a hug, a smile blooming on his face as he did. You’d never seen him smile so genuinely in your life.
Another girl came forward as well, but she came slower, more timidly. She was certainly younger than the other girl, maybe around 11 or 12, with her hair done much simpler and her clothes much more juvenile. She passed by Jeno and (who you assumed to be) his sister, stopping in front of you. “Um, hello,” she said. You smiled, assuming this was when your grand performance was to begin.
“Hello there,” you replied, feeling a surge of confidence run through you. “Soeun, right?”
Her eyes practically doubled in size for a moment, and you hoped that meant your leap-in-the-dark guess had been correct. “Um, yeah. You’re [First], right?”
“That would be me, yes.”
Soeun opened her mouth to speak, but Yeojin quickly cut her off by dragging you into a highly unwelcome hug. You ignored the discomfort, reaching your arms around her and giving her a few awkward pats. “It’s so fun to meet you!” Yeojin squealed, and you briefly wondered how long Jeno had been telling his family about you before he directly told you.
“Yeojin,” Jeno said, a warning-esque tone in his voice. “Lay off a bit.”
You felt her freeze and then she immediately let go of you, practically pushing her off. A hand covered her mouth—her nails were perfectly manicured, done much better than your self-painted ones—and she gasped, and now you felt a bit overwhelmed by her. Soeun, to Yeojin’s side, looked away, her eyes shiny and a bit saddened; while she certainly wasn’t living a life anything similar to yours, you could see yourself in her, a bit.
“Sorry, I forget we’ve never met. You’re, like, big news on the lower grade campus,” Yeojin said. “Among the second years, you’re like a superhero or something. First place without a tutor! Rare, one-in-a-million scholarship student! I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity.”
Well, that was certainly something you didn’t want to hear. Yeojin was already the type of person you couldn’t handle well, if the past few minutes were anything to go off of, and she’d shared mildly upsetting information with you already. You didn’t want to be popular among middle schoolers at all.
“That’s nice, I suppose. Maybe a bit worrying,” you joked, and Yeojin seemed to think you were a comedian by the way she laughed. Jeno looked at you both, obviously sensing your lack of social capability. and chose that moment to switch the attention to Soeun.
“Do you want to lead us to our table, Soeun?” he asked, taking your arm into his once again. Now that you were in the warm, heated hotel, the gesture only made you feel uncomfortable rather than warmed. If you were eating outside, maybe you’d be able to handle any skinship he initiated to make your relationship seem more believable—you supposed that either way, you signed up for this.
Yeojin squealed at you two, though, which made everything about this so much less worth it. After being surrounded by high schoolers and adults for two entire years, you’d forgotten how insufferable 14-year-olds were, and, somehow, Yeojin had managed to assume the worst form of 14-year-old possible. You felt bad for her older self, who would, inevitably, look back on this period of her life with misery rather than fondness.
Soeun took the lead as she was asked to do, shuffling her feet across the marble flooring. It didn’t take long for Yeojin to take the lead, beginning to chatter on about something you managed to tune out pretty quickly. You took the time to gaze at the beauty around you, from intricate flower pots to huge pieces of art that lined the walls. This felt fake, almost, and you wondered how you’d managed to get this lucky with the game of fate. If only a future between you and Jeno felt plausible.
Soeun (more so Yeojin) led you up a set of marble stairs, and then, into a long, dimly lit corridor. It was filled with paintings and lined with the most beautifully-installed marble you’d ever seen. Then, you reached the door at the end, which was made of glass and had insanely intricate carvings on it. Along with that, it had the words “The Aviary” engraved onto the one empty spot among the carvings.
You felt faint. For a moment, you wondered how much Jeno’s parents’ bill would be for this meal, and then you decided to mentally scold yourself for even wondering that in the first place. Yeojin pushed the door open, letting both you and Soeun pass.
The Aviary was, quite possibly, the fanciest restaurant you’d ever been in. It had chandeliers everywhere and thin, walkable carpet on the floors, along with more art that lined every inch of the wall it possibly could. Every table had a pure white table cloth and velvet chairs, each one already perfectly set with a million different utensils and candles that lined the span of it. Soeun continued to lead you deeper into the restaurant. past waiters and tables and windows that showed a more elevated view of Seoul than you were expecting.
You must’ve missed scaling such a massive hill when you were on your way here, mostly due to the internal panic you were fighting off the entire time. You tried to suppress your ogling again, looking towards the floor and hoping you didn’t look like an absolute idiot.
Soeun then led you through a door and into another hallway, this one lined with several doors. She approached the one at the edge once again, and Yeojin beat her to the door again, opening it and waiting for you to enter.
You were instantly hit with the view of Lee Jeno’s father, who looked like your biggest fear. Next to him was his wife, Jeno’s mother, and a few chairs down was a boy who seemed to be about 15 as well, absorbed in his phone and dead to the world.
It kind of felt like you were about to undergo the reckoning, and your final opponents were every relevant religious figure. Every breath that escaped Jeno’s parents’ lips was revered and every blink was well documented, every lost eyelash and every slight movement was taken note of. It’d be accurate to say that Jeno’s parents were more important than the prime minister—they brought in the money and held up the economy, while all the prime minister did was sit and twiddle his fingers.
“You must be [First],” Jeno’s mother said, standing. A small smile graced her features, one that looked and felt apologetic. One glance at the man next to her told you all you needed to know about why she might’ve been apologetic.
“Yes,” you nodded, smiling back. You pulled your arm from Jeno’s, giving her a deep bow; most of the time, you’d learned those wealthier (and older) than you enjoyed the robotic, hardly-genuine signs of respect that most other adults in your life had abandoned. When you stood up straight again, you were pleased to see the impressed glint in her eyes.
“I’m Jeno’s mother,” she introduced, although you found it to be a bit redundant.
“It’s lovely to meet you, ma’am. I’ve heard much about you.”
You hoped she didn’t inquire about any knowledge of their family, as, other than basic facts and events, you knew next to nothing about their personal lives. Jeno’s mother took a seat, motioning to the chairs in front of her and her husband. You allowed Jeno to pull your chair out, internally questioning whether or not anyone had ever pulled your chair out for you.
The velvet seats were more comfortable than any seat you’d ever owned, from your desk chair at school to the lousy, old couch back at your parents' house. You couldn’t imagine how much they’d cost the restaurant, given that every single table had a set of at least four. Even if Jeno’s dad stared at you like you were the grossest, most disgusting thing you’d ever seen, at least you’d get to sit in this chair and eat the restaurant’s food.
“It’s lovely to see you again too, dear,” Mrs. Lee said, giving Jeno a new type of smile. This one was much different than the one she’d offered you—everything about this one carried a mother’s warmth, a mother’s love, drenched in such intense care that nothing could shake it. Jeno could’ve entered this restaurant in his unwashed gym clothes and she would’ve offered the same smile, unchanged and unshaken.
“Mother,” Jeno greeted with a nod. Then, he turned to his father and extended a steady glare. His father glared back, and, as Yeojin and Soeun took their seats next to Sunwoo, a subtle air of war settled over the table. There would be nothing pleasant about this dinner, even if the food was perfect and the view was delightful.
You took the moment of silence to remind yourself that this was not much of a dinner, rather, it was a challenge. A test to see if you were worthy to wed to Jeno one day, and a challenge to see if you could keep up the perfect-soulmate act to void any sort of marriage contract to Nayeong.
“Mr. Lee,” you said, taking the initiative to speak to your strongest opponent. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, as well. Jeno speaks of you very highly.”
When he looked toward you, your blood ran cold. His stare, now protruding into your eyes rather than the side of your head, was icy and unwelcoming like you’d just beat him in a lawsuit or nothing. He was an unbreakable wall, and you told yourself that you only needed to find the single crack that was caused by love for his eldest son as if it would be easy.
“You’re the academy’s charity case for Jeno’s year, correct?”
Ouch. What an obvious insult, among the many he could’ve thrown at you—you were almost impressed that he didn’t even try to hide his hostility. You’d thought that, at the very least, he’d try to maintain his usual TV persona, but maybe you overestimated your worthiness of receiving that sort of respect. Before you could smile and tell him, yes, you are the charity case, Jeno flared up, ready to spit false fire at his father.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn't call my girlfriend a charity case, Father,” Jeno spat, eyes narrowed. You instinctively put a hand on his shoulder, figuring this would be a good, caring gesture given the situation. Being called somebody’s girlfriend felt foreign, but you supposed it wouldn’t be the best idea to disclose that. After all, this would likely be your one chance to impress him, if you had to guess. You were well acquainted with the idea of being a charity case, hell, you agreed.
“No, he’s right. If they didn’t have to maintain their image, they wouldn’t have the scholarship exams at all,” you said, keeping your eyes on Jeno’s father. Slowly, you dropped your hand from his shoulder, leaning back on the chair and ignoring the pounding of your heart. “Nevertheless, I am fully confident in my abilities. I deserve to be at a school like the academy. Even if I must endure a title like ‘charity case.’”
Jeno’s father turned his eyes towards Jeno and then back at you, the glare never faltering. You wondered how a single man harbored so much malice, and how Jeno saw his father in a good light. He seemed bitter and controlling, angry that his son—his next-of-kin, the boy who would one day be the king of his corporate kingdom—refused to marry a woman he did not know, right out of high school.
He did not say anything in return to your response, rather, picking up his delicately folded, fabric napkin and unraveling it to place on his lap. You mimicked his actions, remembering how Suhyeon once mentioned that you shouldn’t do something until the lead of the table has (among many other things she decided to recite to you one late night, so you could’ve been completely off the mark with that one). However, judging by the way everyone else seemed to do the same shortly after you, you assumed you guessed right.
“Jeno shared that you’re quite the prodigy, though, [First]. I mean, to be able to hold your own amongst children who have top-notch private tutors and spend all their time studying…I couldn’t imagine doing something like that,” Jeno’s mom said, trying to salvage what her husband destroyed. “If you weren’t so busy with your own schoolwork, I’d hire you to tutor the girls.”
“I’m honored you’d entrust me with furthering your children’s education,” you smiled, picking up the glass of water that was filled before you came in. You attempted to hold it as daintily as possible, taking the shortest, most sophisticated sip you could muster.
“Is that not what’s expected of her, though?” Jeno’s father was apparently determined to ruin your day, likely to destroy what little confidence you had and remove you from the academy (and Jeno’s life) completely. “It’s not impressive when she is merely fulfilling what is asked of her.”
You pondered what might’ve put his father on edge so quickly. You’d barely spoken to this man at all, let alone been in the same room as him, and he was already determined to get rid of you. Perhaps that was why he moved the dinner location from his home to here—he didn’t want this to be an official “meet-the-parents” event. He wanted it to be a family dinner without your presence at all.
You figured he would be thrilled to hear that you and his son likely had no future together.
“Is she not going above and beyond? If she was just meeting the scholarship requirements, why is she first place instead of fifth?” Jeno questioned, leaning back in his chair. You looked over, and, from the expression on his face, Jeno seemed actually upset. His ears were tinged red and his face was tight, and, with a quick once over, you could see that his fists were clenched and his shoulders were fairly tight.
To be honest, you couldn’t blame him. If you had to listen to your father reject your soulmate in favor of a random girl you barely knew, you’d be pretty pissed off too, no matter your relationship with your soulmate.
“Because she spends every second of the day with her head in a book, Jeno. Not because she has natural talent, or because she’s the prodigy your school claims she is,” he fired back. If you held any respect for Jeno’s father, you’d be utterly destroyed; luckily, you had no respect for any man that ran a company that was hinged on the work of underpaid laypeople, so you were unscathed by his words. “Nayeong is student council president, holds herself in the top five, does service whenever she can…and your little soulmate is relying on her connection to you to make anything of herself.”
You audibly snorted at that, raising an eyebrow. “I am?” you questioned, crossing your legs. A sick sense of amusement filled your chest, along with a burst of confidence. “With all due respect, sir, I did not aim for my scholarship with the intent of striking gold with my soulmate or significant other. I aimed for it because the only way I can make anything of myself is with my grades, because my mother didn’t give birth to me on a bed of cash.”
Jeno began to speak right after you, not granting any time for his father to reply to you. “Besides,” he said, slamming two pieces of paper—unfolded and crinkled—onto the table. “Nayeong got seventh this year.”
His father scanned over the papers, which you realized were both yours and Lim Nayeong’s transcripts. Yours, from where you sat, had nothing but ones, twos, and the occasional three or four, while hers had fours, fives, and even nines, without a single one in sight. Nayeong’s grades were nothing to be ashamed of given how busy she was with everything else, but next to yours, they didn’t measure up in the slightest.
It made you feel embarrassed. It made you want to say, “there is still not much of a difference between Nayeong and me, I just scored a few points more.”
“So compared to a girl with sevens, a student council position, and a respectable family,” Jeno’s father said slowly, returning to his complete ignorance of you. “You’d rather spend the rest of your life with a poor, unsightly girl who has slightly impressive grades, alcoholic parents, and a drug-addicted brother in prison?”
Your blood ran cold. Jeno’s jaw clenched, and his mother gasped, turning towards her husband and slapping his shoulder. “You promised me you wouldn’t bring that up—” she began but was quickly cut off by Jeno standing so suddenly that his chair fell over, banging against the ground and causing everybody to flinch. You looked up at him, an emptiness spreading through your chest.
“Talk to my girlfriend like that again,” he began, clenching his fists so hard that his hands began to shake. “And I will end you.”
He didn’t waste a moment turning towards the door, throwing it open, and marching out. You stood up quickly, albeit much more gracefully, draping the fabric napkin over the back of your chair and racing out of the room without another word. You didn’t look back, keeping your eyes on Jeno’s shrinking figure and walking as fast as you could without speeding up to a run. You sped through the restaurant, out into the lobby and past all the glitz and glamor of the hotel. By the time you caught up to him, Jeno was standing outside in the empty entry area, typing furiously on his phone.
“You—you didn’t have to blow up like that. I mean, we were just acting, and I can’t say I wasn’t expecting him to know.”
Jeno turned towards you, scoffing. “I just don’t get it.”
“Huh?” You tilted your head, wondering why he sounded so…mean. Angry, even.
“You’re perfect,” he said, looking up at the darkened sky. The lighting from the hotel entrance lit up his face, every feature and every imperfection (although scarce) perfectly on display, but you could’ve sworn the stars were what lit up his eyes. They sparkled like fireworks, the kind that was loud and Earth-shaking. “Everything about you. You’re pretty, you’re perfectly intelligent, you know how to speak to people and you know how to get your point across. You know when to smile and when to not. You know how to meet new people and try new things.”
You were confused. He launched compliment after compliment at you, but he sounded almost…bitter about it. Like he was unhappy you were all those things.
‘Um…” you mumbled, but couldn’t find the words to respond. You just stared, waiting for him to say anything, feeling the cold dive deeper into your skin—under your skin—and each shiver become more intense.
“There’s not a single thing you don’t beat me in but money. So what if you have terrible parents and an awful family, because you’re the picture-perfect poster girl—hell, you’re more than that. You have the perfect underdog story too, and he still hates you. He still prefers that—that witch,” he rambled, looking down and kicking a pebble that was next to his feet. “What does that mean for me? If you’re so terrible, so average despite your grades and your reputation, does that not mean I’m a failure of a son?”
“What? Jeno, I think you’re overreacting—”
“Oh, am I?” he turned, shoving his hands into his blazer pockets. “You’ve been ahead of me from the moment you stepped onto that god-forsaken campus, and you’ve given me, what, math as reparations? Every year, I have to use the excuse that I have the scholarship student to compete with, and that’s why I’m not the perfect top of the class, but he views you as obsolete. Doesn’t that mean I’m worse than obsolete? Huh?”
“Well, other than the fact that you’re agreeing with him,” you said, crossing your arms. “What does it matter what he thinks? Even if he gives his business to one of your siblings, you’ll still be drowning in cash. So what if you get married to Nayeong? Just cheat on her, or something, because, if she’s such a witch,” you paused, emphasizing your distaste with his nickname for her, “won’t she do the same?”
“How are you so okay with this?” he asked, raising his voice in the slightest. “You found out I was your soulmate and you didn’t even try to make a connection. You were okay with me using you to sidestep my father’s plans for me, you were okay with him relentlessly insulting you until it had something to do with your private life—why?”
“Why? Would you like it if a man you’d never met brought up your terrible at-home life and decided to equate it to you being terrible? I know my strengths, I know who I am, but it’s not very nice to be compared to 4 siblings who didn’t even attempt university and parents who barely work,” you replied, wondering why he was getting so upset. Minutes ago, he was spewing lines straight out of a drama, but now he was mobilizing against you, too. The worst part was that you couldn’t match his energy at all—maybe it was reactionary to the fact that you no longer had to sit through a dinner with his parents, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel angry.
You were realizing that Jeno viewed you as a rival, while you never had. Before the past week, he was just another golden boy, one of the boys Suhyeon hated, one of the fancy popular boys you’d never talk to. It seemed as though he’d viewed you as an opponent from your first round of exams.
You felt bad, for some reason—guilty even. As if this was something you were meant to feel guilty for. You couldn’t imagine Jeno had been exactly thrilled when he found out you were his soulmate—judging by how long it took him to tell you, he wasn’t thrilled at all—and yet he was acting like you’d ruined his life.
You didn’t get it.
“You’re ridiculous.” Jeno laughed breathily, pacing around a bit. All you could do was watch, even when a car pulled up in front of you, likely for him to make his grand escape. “Jaemin was wrong. This was never going to work.”
“Did you ever think it was?” you rose a brow, suppressing a shiver that was beginning to creep down your back. “Sorry, Jeno, but we were destined for destruction. Even if we tried to foster something, that wouldn’t stop my parents from approaching the tabloids, and it wouldn’t stop the tabloids from painting me as a money-grabbing asshole. Count your blessings, okay? You’ll have everything and more. A loveless marriage is the least you need to deal with.”
He spun towards you, narrowing his eyes. “Just because I have money or a fancy house does not mean my life will be easy.”
You widened your eyes, nodding slowly. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.”
“Just—just get in the car. Leave, please.”
You turned towards the sleek, black car that was parked beside you. Without another word, you walked towards it, throwing the door open and basking in the heat that emanated out of it. You got in, slamming the door behind you, and watched Jeno get smaller and smaller as the driver drove you farther and farther away.
Tumblr media
vi. instead of being banished to tartarus,
Suhyeon knows.
You can tell by the way she interacts with you, by the way she avoids you in the halls and stays out of the dorm until she absolutely can’t anymore. You can tell by the way she doesn’t interrupt your incessant studying, reignited by the end of break and the beginning of a new term, with mindless hypotheticals and useless facts. You can tell by the way she slips into her fight-or-flight persona when she speaks to you, the same person when she’s near the golden boys.
Reasonably, you’ve also begun to believe she’s not telling you something. Maybe you’ve always believed that, but it’s to a much larger extent now; there’s something important she’s not telling you. You’ve also concluded she was aware Jeno was your soulmate, but, for whatever reason, she chose not to tell you.
You can’t bring yourself to feel angry, no matter what you do, no matter how much you think about it. It stresses you out, how numb you feel in regards to your situation, how numb you’ve felt for the past two years or so. All your energy, and, by extension, all your emotions, have been poured into your grades and your social standing among professors and academic greats. There’s nothing left over to feel something for your own misgivings, unless it’s about school or your future.
It’s miserable here. Everything is miserable. But, if you give up, if you stop going, you’ll be trapped under the thumb of your parents forever, and you cannot live like that. No matter what, you cannot live like that.
“I see what you’re saying, [First],” Dr. Choi hummed, writing a few things down on her clipboard. “If you want me to be entirely honest with you, there’s not a single student on this campus that’s gone through anything as tough as you’re going through. Even if they’re being forced into an arranged marriage, even if they’re underestimated and outcasted by their parents. At the end of the day, unless they’re kicked out—which they won’t be—nobody here will ever know ‘struggle’ like you do.”
You want to feel vindicated by Dr. Choi’s words, but you simply can’t. You feel tired, overworked and underappreciated, and want nothing more than to return to your dorm room and go to bed.
“But, this ‘numbness’ you’re feeling…you say you’ve felt like this for a while?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m not one to deny things—it’s not my job to deny things—but I can safely say that’s likely not the case. Before last week, you had a good work-life balance…mostly…and you were happy. You never came to my office because you didn’t need to,” Dr. Choi said, causing you to look up at her from the coffee table between you. Her gaze was distressing, halfway implying she knew something you didn’t.
“What do you mean?”
“It feels similar, sure, because the only thing stressing you out then was school. Now, there’s two things, but only one is stressing you out…and you say you can’t feel anything else. It’s because you’re rejecting your soulmate.”
“Excuse me?”
“As far-fetched as it sounds, it’s true. Biologists like to say the concept of soulmates is nigh useless, and that the only thing denoting it is the little marking on your body, but…cognitive science says otherwise. Think of Jeno as half of your brain—the feeling part of your brain—and you’re the functioning part. He’s feeling too many emotions right now, and you’re feeling none, while he’s likely having trouble finding the motivation to do much of anything,” she explained. “It’s certainly not impossible to live without your soulmate, but rejecting them is a bit different. You’ll get over it one day, or you won’t, but for now it’ll be awful.”
You stayed silent, looking back down at the coffee table. You supposed it made sense, and she was right, you hadn’t worried about much other than your grades for the past two years. Your parents and family were always buzzing in the background, heightening your school stress by proxy, especially right now.
You didn’t like seeing Dr. Choi because it felt like she could never understand you, but perhaps she was making a solid point right now.
“So I just have to wait?”
“Yes. But, if you want my honest opinion, I don’t think anyone should attempt to reject their soulmate at 17,” she sighed, writing something else down on her clipboard. “You don’t know what love is, or what this is supposed to feel like. You feel like the world is ending because you’re not having the ‘love at first sight’ situation the TV tells you about. Try to form a relationship with him, even if it’s just a friendship, and don’t cut him out entirely. You’ll probably regret it later on.”
You doubted that, but you nodded like you were agreeing with her. She put her clipboard down on the table, allowing you to see your printed name and then tons of incomprehensible scribbles that only Dr. Choi could read. “Time’s up for today, unfortunately, as I have another student coming in. Don’t tell her I said she doesn’t know what struggle is, okay?”
You smiled hollowly, nodding. You stood up from the couch, picking up a hard candy from the bowl she kept on the table, considering that to be your reward for coming into the counselor’s office in the first place.
It was too bad you’d disregard all of her advice. At the end of the day, you were a teenager, and anything an adult said felt like an utter lie. You approached the office door, sliding it open and emerging into the hall. You wished the counselor’s office hadn’t been so far across campus, because now you had a far walk through the cold courtyard back to the dorm.
If they’d just put it in one of the class buildings rather than in the faculty building, your life would be much easier.
“Oh, [First]?”
You froze, turning your head to see the one-and-only Na Jaemin behind you. He sped up a bit, stopping as he reached your side. “Long time no see, genius. How are you?”
“Fine.”
You proceeded walking, as did he, keeping himself in step next to you. “Out of the counselor’s office? I heard once that they require you to go at least once a month for, y’know, academic stress. Rumor has it a scholarship student once offed himself because everything got too difficult.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard the rumor. It’s not required but every teacher encourages it more than I’d like them to,” you explained, unwrapping the pink hard candy and popping it in your mouth. Behind you, you heard the telling squeak of the counselor’s office door, and, out of curiosity, you turned to see who was going in after you.
Lim Nayeong. The coincidence could’ve made you laugh.
“It’s required for the student council, though. I guess being the quasi-leaders of the school is a bit harder than being the public reputation,” you joked, feeling the slightest bit relieved hearing Jaemin laugh in response.
“I guess so,” he replied, stopping you both at the elevator rather than the stairs. You sighed, suppressing the urge to say the stairs were always faster as he’d already pressed the shiny ‘down’ button. You could’ve walked off without him, but you weren’t an asshole, and if he wanted to walk with you, he could. The doors opened quickly, letting off a monotonous ‘ding’ as a result. Jaemin held his arm out, waiting for you to step inside before he did.
He was very gentlemanly, and you briefly considered that he was showing you his TV persona as an apology for not getting to receive Jeno’s father’s. Or, maybe, he was extending an apology from his own father, who somehow heard about how terribly you were treated.
“Look, Jeno didn’t mean it. He’s stressed about the thought of being tied down the moment he graduates, and he’s looking for every single way out. He thought you were a fool-proof plan, but he underestimated how far his father could go, and…well…”
It was more reasonable for Jaemin to be apologizing for Jeno. You weren’t very surprised that this was his main reason for talking to you, but you’d wished it would’ve been something more fulfilling than a secondary apology from Jeno.
“I don’t care. He can do what he wants, I’m not going to tell him how he can and can’t feel.”
“Okay, I’m gonna cut straight to the point,” Jaemin said, turning so that his whole body could face you. You gave him a judgmental look, wholly uninterested in whatever he was going to say to you. “Don’t reject Jeno now, all right? Wait until summer or something. For you, you just feel a little off, or, rather, you feel nothing at all, but this is practically overhauling everything in Jeno’s life. He nearly unfriended Donghyuck earlier because of a simple quip, and he can barely do anything without getting upset over it.”
“Do you think I can just…stop? I don’t feel any connection to him,” you said, hoping the elevator would hurry up. You cursed it for being so slow and old. “I don’t know what to tell you. I…I just don’t know.”
The lights on the elevator went off, and it jerked to a stop. You looked up, eyebrows furrowing. “You’re kidding me. Holy shit. You’re kidding me.”
You pressed your back to the wall of the elevator, sliding down to the floor. Jaemin didn’t say anything, but he pulled his phone out pretty quickly, typing frantically. You slid yours out as well, shocked to see a couple of texts from Suhyeon.
“hey where are you rn? we were just called down into the lounge,” read the first text. “god are you at the counselor’s office still? they’re not telling us what’s going on.”
You typed a quick response, saying you were still in the faculty building but the power went out as you were in the elevator. You hoped she didn’t question your elevator usage, putting your phone back into your pocket and ignoring the buzzing that ensued.
Jaemin was typing furiously from what you could see, the light from his phone being the only thing illuminating the elevator. He furrowed his brows, turning to look down at you. “Have you heard anything about what’s happening from anyone? None of my friends know, but they’ve all been gathered together for a while.”
“All I heard was that nobody was saying what’s happening.”
The moment you stopped talking, the lights flicked on, and the elevator began moving. You stood up, furrowing your brows as the floor counter turned from a “2” to a “1.”
When the doors opened, you were hit with a wave of heat and pure, black smoke. You began choking on the air, but Jaemin was fast acting and began to jam the “close door” button, along with the third floor button—where you’d just come from. The doors didn’t close fast enough, and the smoke began to spread into the elevator, making your eyes water and your lungs hurt. By the time the doors finally closed, there was enough smoke to keep you coughing, even if your shirt was haphazardly thrown over your mouth and nose.
The elevator began moving up, and a wave of panic blew through you. It broke through whatever invisible filter that had been causing you to feel numb for the past week or so, and a self-composed prayer fell past your lips, between coughs, over and over again: “please, go up, please, go up.”
The elevator seemed to move at a snail’s pace, but, as long as it was moving, you didn't care. Given how you’d just been up on the third floor, there was absolutely no way the fire had spread that far—the only issue was that there wasn’t exactly a staircase leading from the third floor down to the ground of the snowy outdoors.
“Someone’s setting the school on fire,” Jaemin said between coughs. “Some guy. Most everybody’s evacuated, but they apparently forgot us.”
“Maybe because they couldn’t get inside?” you shot back, feeling a wave of relief—not nearly strong enough to overpower the panic—when the “4” appeared on the screen. “Why the fuck didn’t the fire alarm go off?”
“Because this building is ancient and they’ve never thought to replace it,” Jaemin half-hissed. The doors opened to reveal a smokeless third floor, but, upon walking out, you learned the heat had reached the floor along with the scent of smoke.
“The counselor’s door is still closed,” you pointed out, not wasting a moment to begin walking that way. “They’re either still in there, or they found a way out.”
You refused to consider that they’d left and closed the door behind them, not wanting to believe you were stuck in a burning building with no way out. Suddenly, Jaemin slipped in a way that he slid, falling straight onto his back. You looked down at the floor, realizing it had been completely doused in what you could only assume was oil.
“No time to wait!” you exclaimed, bending down and grabbing Jaemin’s arm. You practically yanked him up from the floor, dragging him along with you while he stumbled trying to keep his footing. You made it to the counselor room’s door, throwing it open and rejoicing to the heavens that there was an open window.
You rushed towards it, letting go of Jaemin, who went back and slammed the door shut. You looked out of it, noticing Dr. Choi on the roof below it, helping Lim Nayeong get down to the ground. “Doctor!” you screeched, grabbing her attention. She looked up the moment Nayeong had made it to the ground, standing and turning towards you.
“Come on!” she yelled, waving her hands at you. Jaemin came up behind you, beginning to help you shove yourself through the small window in front of you. You mentally thanked him for lifting you up, allowing for you to go feet first rather than head first. You let yourself fall down to the rooftop, cringing at the pain in your ankle as you landed. You 
Dr. Choi rushed towards you, looking up at Jaemin, who began to extract himself from the building as well.
“What’s going on?” you asked, coughing out more of the smoke you inhaled earlier.
“Someone’s trying to burn down the school and they started with the faculty building first,” she said, a little too calm for the situation at hand. Jaemin landed in front of her, also wincing at the pressure it put on his legs. “We need to keep going. Come on.”
Nayeong was waiting at the bottom, standing next to a teacher you’d never seen before. The ground seemed far, too far for you to be happy about it, but you were assuming the way Nayeong made it down was thanks to the bushes that would’ve cushioned her fall. 
“You’re just coming down from the second story!” Nayeong yelled, reaching up at you. Dr. Choi gave you a slight push on the shoulder, to which you looked back at her like she was crazy. Jaemin didn’t wait, lowering himself to the roof. You watched as he, facing towards you, slid himself off, hanging onto the edge for a second. Nayeong rushed over, reaching up to help him safely get down to the ground.
“Kill me,” you mumbled, walking over to the edge. Slowly, you repeated Jaemin’s steps, feeling like you could barely move.
“You can do it, [First]!” Nayeong yelled, and you hoped she was holding her hands up like she had been before. You pushed yourself off, feeling the edge of the roof dig into your fingers as you began to hang off the edge. As fast as you’d begun hanging, though, two hands were on your calves, beckoning for you to let go.
So, you did. You hit the ground with a quiet crunch thanks to the snow, but an unexpected shooting pain traveled up your ankle and calf, causing you to nearly fall over into the snow. Jaemin caught you, but Nayeong looked at you, furrowing her brows.
“Are you okay?”
“I think my ankle is sprained,” you mumbled hoarsely, steadying yourself and pushing yourself away from Jaemin. You took your phone out of your pocket, staring at a wave of texts you’d received from Suhyeon, begging you to tell her you were okay and that you’d made it out. You shakily typed a short “I’m fine” before shoving your phone back into your coat.
Dr. Choi made it down from the roof, and both her and the teacher began walking in the direction of the parking lot. “Come on!” Dr. Choi yelled, leading you all away from the building that was still going up in flames. Your legs shook as the panic began to subside, and a mere glance back held an aura of complete death. The first two floors of the faculty building were covered in flames, likely not an ounce left of what once was in there.
The three students—you, Nayeong, and Jaemin—were led into Dr. Choi’s car, while the other teacher went and found his own. Jaemin sat in the front while you awkwardly sat next to Nayeong, trying to process what you had just gone through.
“I cannot believe,” Dr. Choi began, starting her car and wasting no time in flooring it out of the parking lot. As you drove out onto the street next to the school, you caught sight of a fire truck in the distance, speeding towards the school. “They didn’t even try to tell us. I thought you were gone for good, [First]. Oh my god.”
Nayeong didn’t say anything, keeping her hands in her lap and her eyes out the window. You wondered what would happen to your belongings, but you weren’t nervous about it reaching the second year building when it was on the farthest edge of campus.
Dr. Choi asked Jaemin to dial a number on her phone, to which he politely obliged. You took your phone out again, which yielded several texts from Suhyeon once again and a single text from someone else.
The moment the recipient of Dr. Choi’s call picked up, she began to scream at them, but you were easily able to drown out the yelling with your focus on the text on your phone.
“Are you okay?”
You wondered, briefly, where Jeno got your number.
“I’m fine.”
Tumblr media
vii. zeus enslaved atlas
It took a total of two hours to arrive at the hotel in which the school evacuated all the students too, and you wondered why they had to pick a fancy hotel rather than one of the respectable ones that were actually near campus. You were met with a personal greeting from the principal, who was trying to save his ass after essentially leaving the four of you (and more, most likely) for dead.
Dr. Choi didn’t waste a second to begin screaming at him some more, but you blew past her with Nayeong, who still hadn’t spoken to you but was sticking to your side practically. There was a sort of trauma-bonding between you two now, apparently, which was a bit ironic given both of your situations.
You’d been placed in a hotel room with Suhyeon, as according to your current rooming arrangements, and were told to wait in your rooms until there was more information to be distributed amongst the students. Nayeong parted from you when this happened, taking her key and disappearing off into a corridor. You chose to take the other one, walking past several students who had disregarded the plea to stay in the rooms and were now gossiping in the halls.
“I heard they might have to close the school down for a year,” somebody whispered, causing you to pause and nearly stop walking. Instead of stopping in the middle of the hall, you slipped your phone from your pocket, leaning against a wall and scrolling through random apps.
“Seriously? I guess that won’t be an issue, most of us can just transfer to another private school, but what about international and scholarship students?”
“I’m sure international students will be fine, but rumor has it the school might drop scholarship students—partial and entire. They’re scrambling to make sure their library is still intact, and, if it isn’t, they’ll need hundreds of thousands of won to restore it. They’ll never keep some upper middle class loser if it means they can keep their pride and joy safe and sound.”
There was a certain ache in your heart at that, but you were tired, and you felt like collapsing. It was funny how, just a couple weeks ago, you were panicking over your finals and doing anything to hang onto your 65-million scholarship, but, now, you didn’t feel anything. At least if you got dropped, it wouldn’t be a quasi-expulsion. You’d still have kept your pride, and your parents could complain to the school about how they had to actually pay for you, now.
You continued through the corridor, skipping the elevator for the stairs. You’d halfway forgotten what floor you were on—you’d either been told room 314 or room 414—but you weren’t too opposed to simply checking both. Holding your key up to the scanner would be enough to know, and it was unlikely the occupants of the other room would even know you tried.
Upon your ascent up the stairs, you were forced to remember the slight pain in your ankle, which had subsided greatly over the past few hours, and part of you wished you had used the elevator. The other part of you said you’d never take an elevator again, even if a gun was to your head. Each step was a testament to what you’d experienced over the past couple of years, culminating in these fleeting moments in which you had nothing left.
In a week, you supposed your dorm would be cleaned out, and you’d be hugging Suhyeon goodbye for the last time. Maybe a reporter would approach you, ask why the closing seemed so sudden, and you would tell them you almost burnt to death because they were too lazy to fix their smoke alarms. You’d tell them that the conditions to meet your scholarship were ridiculous, not because their students were too smart, but because their student’s parents had a million personal tutors at their beck and call.
You emerged onto the third floor, hit in the face with a strong scent of detergent and cleaning supplies, and began trudging through the halls. Given the couple of familiar faces—classmates you’d never spoken to before—standing next to a decorative table, you hoped the 300s were the second year floor and you didn’t have to walk up another flight.
The space between rooms was insane, and you couldn’t imagine what might be inside. A kitchen, a couch, and an entire fireplace, anything that a rich person required in their hotel room. They were much bigger than the dorms that people paid millions to live in, and this was all paid for by the school. For a brief moment, you considered your fancy, rich-person academy to be a scam—it was, you always knew it was—and wondered why they couldn’t build dorms like this. As you walked through the corridor, you realized how you barely had made it past five rooms, and wished they had picked a normal hotel for you to temporarily live in as they figured out how to break the news of your removal from the school.
You turned a corner, admiring a pretty bouquet in a terrible intricate vase that brought a smile to your face. You stopped, reaching your hands out to feel whether or not they were real and letting out a gasp of surprise when they actually were. The flowers were vibrant, yellows and purples and pinks all tied together with a wisp of baby’s breath, and perfectly taken care of; they couldn’t have been cut more than a day ago. The hotel must’ve had some sort of private gardens, as there was no way these were bought from a random flower shop down the street.
“[First]?”
The flowers lost their color, all at once. You stood up straight, looking towards Lee Jeno, who’d just so happened to find you right now.
“Jeno.”
He stared at you for a moment, his hair messy and his roots just beginning to show. He was dressed in lounge clothes, a t-shirt and black, baggy pants that looked about three sizes too big. If he didn’t say anything soon, you’d continue your trek to room 314, brushing past him and leaving him to stare at the blank wall behind you.
“Can we talk?”
“Okay.”
You turned towards him completely, crossing your arms over your chest. He cleared his throat, looking down at the floor for a moment. “Like, not in the hallway. My room…is just down the hall.”
“All right then.”
He stared at you for a moment more, halfway shocked you agreed. Maybe it was a side effect of the events of today—for a brief moment, you realized you didn’t know what time it was—from your counseling to the hours-long car ride you endured after what was likely the most traumatic moment of your life. You wanted to disappear, fall into a rabbit hole and wake up in Wonderland, where nobody would know who you were.
When he began to walk down the hall, turning his back to you, you followed, bidding your pretty bouquet goodbye. You walked deeper into the corridor, stopping at a room labeled “309.” It was at the edge of the corridor, with another hall connecting to it. You assumed 314 was down there, so it would at least be a short trip to your assumed hotel room.
Jeno tapped his keycard on the lock, a loud click accompanied by a green light resounding through your ears. He pushed the door open, heading inside and holding it open for you. As you walked in, you noticed an unfamiliar presence on the couch—Lee Donghyuck, the only golden boy you’d met before. During your first year, you’d done a group project together, you’d let him off for not doing any of his work, and you ended up vouching for him in front of the teacher; as a result, he’d gifted you a couple of candy bars and a swift thank you. “I’ll return the favor at some point,” he’d said, walking off without another word.
“Out,” Jeno said, keeping eye contact with Donghyuck. He stared up at his friend, eyebrow raised, before glancing at you.
“‘Sup, fire girl,” he said, standing from the couch. Donghyuck turned his attention to Jeno, giving him a stern, very-unlike-him glare. “You promised me.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
“Do you?”
With that, Donghyuck brushed past Jeno and you, emerging out into the corridor. The door slammed behind him, causing you to flinch somewhat. Jeno took a seat on the couch, right where Donghyuck was sitting, and motioned to the seat next to him. You obliged, sitting as far away from him as you possibly could and staring at him until he spoke.
“Are you doing okay?”
“No.”
“I’m…sorry you got left behind. I won’t lie, Suhyeon started crying so hard she needed to take her own car, and that worried me. A lot. I thought about things.”
“And?”
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, looking down at his hands. “I wasn’t nice. I overreacted and was overly jealous. It’s my fault, so I apologize.”
“I understand,” you nodded. “If it’s any consolation, I’m jealous of you too.”
You leaned back into the couch, sighing. “Your family is so…picture perfect,” you began, trying to find the words to articulate your thoughts. “Sure, you have altercations, peculiar ones at that, but I could tell you were close. From the way you hugged Yeojin, to the way your mother looked at you…you’re living a dream I could only hope to have one day.”
He stayed silent, letting you talk. You figured you deserved as much, given how your day has been. “My parents are awful. I was the kid they didn’t want, and all my siblings are a lot older than me. As your dad said, one of them ended up in jail. I depend on this school to keep me away from them, so I can have a better life now rather than when I move out. Even then, I know they’ll harass me forever if I end up with a nice job with good money. You’ll never experience that.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, but you shook your head, rejecting it.
“No reason to be. I can’t change who my family is, but I can change the direction my life goes. That’s all that matters.”
You felt Jeno’s eyes on you, and, when you looked over, you found him looking at you. He was pretty, as he’d always been, even when he was dressed for bed. His hair fell into his eyes, and you mentally visualized him with black hair—he looked nice no matter what.
“You’re a very beautiful person, [First].” The comment brought heat to your cheeks and caused your heart to skip a beat, and you contemplated whether or not this was what Dr. Choi meant by not rejecting him. “If…if there’s any way, I’d like to make this work. I’d like to make us work.”
You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek. “I suppose that would be nice. I was unreasonable before, mostly because I don’t want people lessening my achievements because of who my soulmate is. Sorry.”
“I get it. My mom always told me that would happen if my soulmate ended up to be somebody ‘fiery,’ but I guess you aren’t really that,” he hummed. “You’re nice. Warm. I see why people speak so kindly about you.”
“Well…thanks. I guess.”
You looked forward, and a thought crossed your mind. Your heart dropped slightly as you deliberated whether or not it would be smart to tell him what you heard in the halls. Realizing that you’d likely be very far away from him if it ended up to be true, you knew that you absolutely had to if you wanted to create a relationship with your soulmate.
“Rumor has it the school’s gonna be canceling scholarships to bring more money in for repairs and reconstruction.”
“What? They wouldn’t cancel yours, right? I mean, you’re the only full-scholarship on campus—they can’t just kick you, can they?” he asked, scooting a bit closer to you unconsciously.
“Rumor says they’re going to cancel everybody’s scholarships,” you whispered, suddenly realizing the weight of that statement. “I’ll probably try to move in with my aunt in Seoul, go to fancy-yet-free prep school…if they do cancel it. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be around.”
Jeno went quiet, and you desperately held back the tears that were now pooling in your eyes. “I worked so hard for this, and it’ll all go to waste. Every bit of it.”
You hated how choked up you got at the thought of it, how pathetic you felt. But, Jeno didn’t seem to mind, as he hesitantly pulled you into a hug. For a moment, you both stayed there, basking in the fulfillment that came with being with your soulmate. You wondered if this is how your parents were before they grew into the monsters they were today—a couple of teenagers in love, happy with just being with one another.
“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing your back softly. “We’ll get through it together. I’ll spend any amount of money to see you frequently, I’ll get out of class, whatever we need to build. I’d pay for your tuition, but…I don’t think you’d like that.”
“Not really, no,” you mumbled, shoving your head into the crook of his neck. “I just want to feel stable, for once in my life.”
“And you will, one day. I promise you will.”
You pulled away from him, staring at him for a moment. With a heavy sigh, you stood up, with him following close behind you. “I need to go see Suhyeon,” you said. The moment you said that, there was a sudden change in the air of the room—Jeno looked nervous, almost, as if you’d caught him in the act of something. “Go do that. I’ll see you soon.”
“See you.”
You walked towards the door, giving Jeno one last look before emerging into the hall. You made sure to stop the door from slamming behind you, cushioning it with your hands. As you did, though, Lee Donghyuck appeared back in the hall, stopping when he saw you. The door clicked closed, and you both stared at each other, waiting for someone to speak.
He was wearing his uniform, but it was half taken apart, with a couple of his buttons unbuttoned and his tie loosened around his neck. His shirt was untucked and his blazer was nowhere to be found, and you assumed he’d done it pretty recently, given the lack of wrinkling. He held a bag of M&Ms that he likely got from a vending machine somewhere in the hotel.
“Did he tell you?”
“You mean apologize? Yeah.”
Donghyuck sighed, popping a couple M&Ms in his mouth. “Okay, don’t get mad at me for being the bearer of bad news. Jaemin was convinced Jeno shouldn’t tell you, but this might be the one time Jaemin is in the wrong. I know you’ve had the worst day of all worst days, but you cannot go any farther without knowing this. ‘Kay?”
You furrowed your brows, a sudden feeling of anxiety overtaking you. “What? What are you talking about?”
Even Donghyuck looked nervous, from how he fiddled with the hem of his shirt with his open hand to the way he shifted his weight between his feet.
“Until about six months ago, Suhyeon and Jeno were a thing.”
All the air was sucked out of your lungs at once, and your brain shut down immediately.
“She found out you two were soulmates about a year ago, but didn’t back down until Jeno’s dad shut it down because of his new deal with Nayeong’s family.”
You didn’t say anything. You just stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked. “They still talked until a month-and-a-half ago, when Jeno decided to shut it down himself. Chenle knocked some sense into him, and Suhyeon was essentially taken out of our circle. She did everything in her power to not let you know about her friendship with us, and avoided the shit out of us whenever you were around. When pale in the face and all that shit.”
You stayed quiet. A feeling of betrayal began to bubble in your stomach.
“Don’t…blame her or anything, though. Even if she was being an asshole, even if what she did was the worst possible thing she could’ve done, she and Jeno had been fostering it for nearly three years. Love—if you could even call it that—makes people stupid. She wasn’t thinking, and neither was Jeno, until Chenle snapped at him.”
Were you a rebound, or a way for him to stay close to Suhyeon without his dad knowing? Were you his way of getting over what you had stolen from him? How could Suhyeon do this to you, after forcing her fixation with soulmates on you for so long?
You turned away from the corner that you assume led to yours and Suhyeon’s room, walking past Donghyuck with a newfound speed. You wracked your mind for her room number, assuming that she must’ve been in 414 given the likely year-separation of the floors.
You heard Donghyuck’s voice echo through the halls, a quiet “what the fuck is wrong with you, man?” and the loud slamming of his hotel door. You followed it up by yanking the door to the stairs open, letting it fly shut behind you as you began a rapid ascent. You ignored the pain in your ankle, the way your legs wanted to shut down, and practically burst onto the fourth floor.
You followed the same path you had before, and, sure enough, the corridors followed the same pattern. You took turn after turn, saw identical-bouquet after identical-bouquet, before stopping in front of room 414.
Three swift knocks, and a step back.
The door opened.
“[First]?” Nayeong said, furrowing her brows. Traces of crying were left on her face, from mascara-lined tear stains to red cheeks and puffy eyes. Seeing her ignited something in you, an intense sort of emotion that you hadn’t felt in so, so long.
And, as you burst out into tears, Nayeong dragged you into a hug and began sobbing with you.
Tumblr media
viii. to hold up the earth on his shoulders for all eternity. 
The dress you were wearing was absolutely, irrevocably uncomfortable.
Several hidden wires dug into your torso, a product of the bodice of the thing, and you swore you were bleeding in an area where the fabric rubbed against you wrong. Nevertheless, you wore it proudly, hair done up and makeup perfectly complimenting your features. After all, it wasn’t every day you got to attend the wedding of your soulmate—to someone other than you, that is.
Lee Donghyuck sat next to you, dressed in a matching suit to your dress and his leg crossed over the other. A toothpick hung out of his mouth, and he anxiously chewed on it, tapping his fingers against his knee as he waited. You’d both come in support of the couple and to try and masquerade as a couple to Jeno’s father, who was apparently very displeased when he saw your name on the invite list.
“Nayeong told me she’s considering eloping with her girlfriend,” you hummed, once again adjusting your sitting position so that your dress stopped trying to kill you. “Disappearing into a small, European country. Changing her name and getting married. Apparently, her girlfriend has the tickets bought and everything.”
“And why doesn’t she?”
“She doesn’t want to force the marriage-of-convenience role onto her sister,” you sighed, shaking your head. “What a superhero she is.”
“You know, if you’d had another year at the academy, you probably would be the bride here,” Donghyuck suggested, turning towards you. You received a glare from the woman sitting a couple seats to your left, who then whispered something to her husband.
“Not so loud. We’re gonna get kicked out.”
“I’m not lying, though. Since Jaemin nearly beat me up, I’ve never been yelled at more in my life—I had to help Jeno with his comeback plan. We got it done and then we went to Suhyeon’s room and you weren’t there and she looked at Jeno like he was satan’s incarnate.”
“Suhyeon and I weren’t going to last as friends anyway. Too different. We clung to each other too much, too. Recipe for disaster.”
“Right? Anyway, if the school hadn’t been so quick to decide to cut you off, you’d be the bride. Hundred percent.”
“Where is Jaemin, anyway?” you asked, cutting the conversation topic short. According to Nayeong’s perfectly curated seating chart, he was meant to be sitting next to you right now, blabbing away about how Donghyuck ruined Jeno’s one chance at happiness by telling you about Suhyeon rather than letting Jeno do it.
“Jaemin is right here,” he said, taking the seat next to you. You and Donghyuck looked over at him, instantly picking up on the panickedness he seemed to be exuding. “And nobody can find the bride and groom. Jeno’s dad is on a warpath right now, along with Nayeong’s mother.”
“Ooh, Europe worked out,” you joked, holding up your fist. Donghyuck bumped yours against his, chuckling as well.
“Made me call him a million times, and he didn’t pick up. I suggested getting you to call Nayeong, but they looked so appalled at the suggestion that I could’ve told them I was in love with Jeno and we got married in Vegas last night.”
“That was descriptive. Did you?”
Jaemin scoffed, not getting a straight answer. Instead, he tucked his phone in his blazer pocket, focusing on you. “Nayeong’s probably on the plane by now, but we don’t know where Jeno is.”
“Okay. And?”
“He’s suggesting you should go find him, dumbshit,” Donghyuck clarified, flicking your shoulder. You put your hand on it, pretending like he’d just stabbed you in the arm, but Jaemin quickly slapped your shoulder to avoid you causing a bit of a scene.
“I don’t even know his number. Deleted it from my phone about twenty minutes after Donghyuck broke the Jesu news to me.”
Donghyuck snorted, leaning back into his chair. In passing, he said, “No way you gave them a ship name,” but Jaemin ignored his comment pretty readily.
“Good news! I have it memorized. Give me your phone.”
Jaemin didn’t wait for you to hand it to him, simply snatching it up off your lap and unlocking it (you weren’t sure where he got the password, but you wouldn’t question it). He began typing what you assumed to be his phone number without even thinking about it.
“You sure you didn’t get married in Vegas?”
“Positive,” Jaemin said, handing the phone back to you. He scooped up your purse from the ground, shoving it into your arms and proceeding to point towards a set of doors off to the side of the banquet hall. “Go out there and down the hall. Door at the end goes to the back parking lot, where Jeno parked earlier. He’s either out there or waiting for someone worth it to call him, and someone worth it would be you.”
“And what am I gonna say?”
“I don’t know,” Jaemin said, acting like you’d asked him the most insane question in the world. “Figure it out yourself. Update me. Hyuck and I will hold down the fort until we hear from you.”
You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to focus on you for a moment. A part of you wished you’d faded into oblivion after high school; being who you were, your merit reached about every end of the world. You lived in an academic spotlight, gaining the attention of universities both near and far. Jeno never came to visit you at your aunt’s house like he had shallowly promised, right before he missed his one chance to tell you the truth.
You stood up, and began your power walk to the door. Now that his fiancé was on her way to a small, European country and likely had all the assets she needed to become untraceable, Jeno would have to deal with the wrath of his father, who would feed him the same “I’m not mad, just disappointed” spiel.
You pushed the door open, hanging your bag off your shoulder and wishing your dress wasn’t so uncomfortable. Sure enough, a text came in from Nayeong—a selfie of her and her girlfriend, whom you had never met, in a plane. She was still fully prepared for marriage, only missing the wedding dress; her hair was perfectly done, the tiara was still there, and her makeup was untouched. Her girlfriend looked much more relaxed, makeupless and hair spread about.
They looked happy. So, as a result, you were happy, and could only hope she would tell you which small, European country she was living in so you could visit. Another text came in, this one from your mother, but you ignored it and continued out into the parking lot.
There was only one car that was running, and it was parked in a corner. It was black and the windows were tinted to high heaven, and you could only assume that would be where the missing groom was. You marched through the parking lot, repeating a mantra of self-support in your mind. This was one of those situations where you should’ve been anxious, but you couldn’t feel a thing; you’d grown used to not feeling anything over the years, but, in situations like these, it always felt uncomfortable.
You stopped a little bit before the car, making sure you were out of sight. You stared for a moment, blinking a couple of times and trying to muster up any sort of anxiety, but you could only manage a small kick in the bottom of your stomach. With a sigh, you approached.
You opened the car door, which was shockingly unlocked, and got into the passenger’s seat. Jeno didn’t turn to look at you, just drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and staring forward. “Can you take me to my apartment? If the wedding isn’t happening, I don’t want to sit in this dress any longer.”
He didn’t waste a moment to put the car in reverse, backing out of the spot with ease. He put a hand on the back of your seat, turning his whole body to look out of the back window even though he had one of those backup cameras. You wondered if he was trying to impress you, but found it unlikely given how unhappy he seemed.
When he managed to back out completely and was forced to turn his focus to the road, you took the chance to give him a once-over. You hadn’t seen Jeno since a banquet two years ago, where you’d been invited after one of your professors insisted you had to share your paper. You’d mingled with people in much higher places than you, smiling and discussing things you didn't care about, barely speaking about your academic ventures. Jeno had been there, too, hanging off Nayeong’s arm like he’d once done to you. They spent the whole night gossiping, sitting together and whispering about things you couldn’t imagine. Back then, when he was 20 years old, his hair had still been blonde and he had still carried that gold boy demeanor he loved so much. Now, his hair was pitch black, and he gave off the energy of someone who was completely and utterly in control of his life.
Judging by the way he blatantly ignored the people who’d begun running after his car, you assumed the energy mirrored the truth. He turned out onto the street, speeding away from the banquet hall that had a million cars around it. “Lots of presents oughta be returned tonight, huh,” you mused, adjusting your sit once again. “I bet it’s annoying and relieving all at once.”
“My dad’s gonna blame this all on me,” he sighed, continuing to drum his fingers on the steering wheel. “Where do you live?”
“Trimage Towers. Anyway, he can’t blame it all on you if Nayeong’s a lesbian. I mean, it’s not like you had any jurisdiction over that.”
Jeno hesitated for a moment, slowing down for a red light. Thanks to the location of the fancy banquet hall, the towers were already in sight, and you could practically feel the relief of taking this awful dress off.
“You really can’t feel anything, huh.”
“I can feel things, just not a lot. I’d be able to feel things if you would’ve gotten over me,” you hummed, looking out the passenger window. “I’m serious, Jeno. Find a new girl. Pick her over me. We will both be happier that way.”
“So you’re rejecting me over a relationship that started when I was in middle school?” he asked, and, at that moment, you understood it was a bit ridiculous. You were sure you’d see it in a more intuitive way had you retained your emotions, but such was the price of rejecting one’s other half.
“I don’t know. I haven’t felt anything since then. I’m content with it now, so I don’t really feel like I can love anyone. Make a decision based on love. Who knows,” you replied, feeling your phone buzz. You picked it up—another text from your mom. This time, though, she called you a couple of names for ignoring her texts and not sending her any money.
Jeno suddenly took a sharp turn, pulling into an empty parking lot next to an office building, which you assumed to be empty because it was Saturday. He pulled around to the back, parking in a spot next to a few trees. It was well hidden, likely a tactic for avoiding anyone chasing him.
“What can I do to fix it?” he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I’m serious. I’ll do anything. Anything at all.”
The slightest bit of sympathy graced your heart, but not enough to change anything. You sighed, looking up at the ceiling of the car. “Not sure.”
“What, should I confess my love to you?” he asked, which caught your attention. You looked over, biting the edge of your lip. “I barely know you, [First], yet I am deeply in love with you. Every time I hear something about you from Nayeong, or from Donghyuck, or from Jaemin, I feel the most intense regret that I decided to ignore Donghyuck’s advice and trust Jaemin more. All I could tell you about yourself are things everyone else knows and whatever my friends have told me, yet I’d still pick you over anybody else.��
Your heart sped up, but you still felt numb to the world. Maybe Dr. Choi had been right—maybe it wasn’t worth it to lose all feeling when you were 17. Maybe, if things had gone better, you would have been the bride today.
“Okay.”
“Is there any way? Any way at all that we could try? I know I’ve asked before, and I was disingenuous then, but I’m not a kid anymore. Neither are you. Things could be different.”
“Could they?” you finally bit into the conversation, letting out a disbelieving laugh. “I just—I can’t comprehend it. I’m a work machine. I walk into the office and stay for hours, reviewing my coworker’s pieces and writing my own based on what I’m given. I’m told that one day, I’ll be one of the greats of journalism thanks to my ability to work until I give out. Will that go away if I let this happen? Will I lose opportunity if I let myself love? I’m not really sure.”
“What makes you think that?” Jeno shot back. “What makes you think a little emotion would destroy your career?”
“Most, if not all of my superiors are soulmate-less or have purposefully gone out of their way to reject their soulmates. It’s standard.”
“You can break the standard, then.”
A bit of anger began to bubble in your stomach. “Could I? I already have it worse by having absolutely no nepotism to back me up, and I’ve got a world of expectation on me based on how I graduated at the top of everything, in every year of schooling I’ve ever had. I have a bad family to keep under wraps, and I have to pay them off to keep them quiet. I can’t afford to be pushing any stereotypes when I’ve got a million other things to work through.”
“I can be your credible, important connection, then. How easy is that?”
“I’d rather die than be a nepotism baby.”
“Then what are you looking for?” “Nothing, Jeno! I’m looking for nothing!” you finally exclaimed, the anger bubbling over the top. “I’m looking to leave this behind us and separate ourselves from each other! I’d rather die than keep living a life that orbits around you! I just—I just want to be myself.”
“Then I’ll orbit around you. I’ll stay out of it and I’ll treat your every beck and call—”
“Shut up, Jeno.”
“I’ll be the one who’s connected to you. I won’t be Lee Jeno, son of that one guy who got to live easy because of his grandfather’s work—”
“Jeno, please.”
“And I’ll dedicate my everything to you, master journalist, the most goddamn successful person in the world, all thanks to herself—”
You’re unsure what came over you at that moment. In your fit of anger, wanting Jeno to just shut up, you grabbed the sides of his face, and you kissed him. There was a moment where you couldn’t believe yourself, where you truly thought you’d open your eyes and be back in the banquet hall, discussing where Jaemin was with Donghyuck. In that moment, Jeno would walk out, make his way to the altar, and Nayeong would follow.
They would look miserable. You would know they were miserable. You would know you could’ve prevented their misery. You’d feel nothing. You’d go home, Donghyuck driving you, and you’d go to bed, ready to go into work the next day.
One opening of your eyes revealed to you that you were, in fact, kissing Lee Jeno. He didn’t seem to mind the suddenness of it—obviously—reaching over the center console to lace his fingers into your perfectly wavy hair. He smiled into the kiss, as if he was the most satisfied man in the world, as if he was the only man in the world.
You closed them again, and felt fireworks burst within you. Although they hadn’t returned like you thought they would, you felt a mixture of very mellow emotions pooling in your stomach, and you realized maybe Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck had a plot.
You pulled away from him, dropping your hands from his face. He did not try to separate himself from you, though, waiting for you to recite the words he’d be wanting you to recite. “An academic article by psychologist Kim Sowol. The best way to incite emotion in someone who’s rejected their soulmate is to anger them.”
He dropped his hands now, too, laying them on top of yours. “Nayeong sent it to me.”
You stayed quiet, narrowing your eyes at him. “I hate you. Never speak to me again.”
Jeno put his hands back on the wheel, reversing the car once more and taking you back out onto the road. “Yeah, okay. Next stop, your apartment. Text Jaemin that it worked for me, would you?”
You scoffed. “No. Shut up.”
“Your wish is my command, my dear.”
Tumblr media
thank you for reading!
tags:
@dziewoja07 @pewpewpwe00 @mings-cafe @yutensoul @iioyous @shepeelsoranges @loeycity @misakiise @000rpheus @eunbi4eva @jenonoon @travelleratheart101 @hesbambi @minchoco @swagzombiefart @eunbi4eva @wonluvrbot
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
atinyjules · 21 days
Text
Broken Melodies: Fake or True? ft. Lee Jeno {mini - masterlist}
"Are the feelings we have for each other real or just fuelled by the desperation of our families to live in peace?"
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
For as long as you could remember, the Lee family and your family, the Na Crime family had been in a longstanding feud. But as your father and the Lee family's head got older they started to crave for peace and harmony between them. That's where you and their youngest come in. The only way that would get the men of both sides to get along was by declaring their beloved prince and princess as lovers. You and Jeno were out of it, you refused to hold any kind of relationship with each other, whether platonic or romantic but in order to see your fathers happy the both of you didn't have a choice but to come to terms with the situation. But what happens when the both of you or one of you start to catch feelings?
"Don't be mistaken, Lee Jeno. The only reason I'm agreeing to this whole ordeal is my father." Eunbi said earning a scoff from Jeno.
"As if like you're any important to me. I'm doing this for my dad and my family." he said as the both of you looked away from each other.
Lee Jeno
Na Eunbi
Moodboard 1 (Lee Jeno)
Moodboard 2 (Na Eunbi)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
69 notes · View notes
jenosz · 1 year
Text
1:44 am, lee donghyuck
“i came as soon as i saw the news, are you okay? do you want me to open a window in here or something–“
“y/n, please, slow down. breathe, baby.” haechan takes you in his arms with a small hmph sound. “i’m okay.” he feels as though, having you in his arms, is all the comfort he needed.
“promise?” you hear him hum in agreement, prompting you to bury yourself in his embrace. “you didn’t tell me.”
“i didn’t want to scare you, princess.” he replies, solemnly. it didn’t take a mind reader to know he felt guilty. his hold tightening. “i’m really sorry.”
“me too.” you press a soft kiss to his neck. “you’re okay now.”
“i’m okay, baby.”
note. MY HAECHAN :((( get well soon we love u to the moon and back!!!!/!!!!:!!! also this was so bad… but i needed to write something after moving accs and <haechan3
736 notes · View notes
lustbile · 2 years
Text
Something To Prove
Tumblr media
JaeminxReader
Word Count: 13.4k
Warnings/Summary: enemies to lovers, smut, mentions of drinking, vaguely dub con, fingering, oral (reader receiving), penetrative, degradation, public. And where Jaemin is kind immature dick, the reader is an emotional masochist, and together they’re both fucking morons, so I hope you enjoy. (Also sorry Jeno I used you for story development)
——————————————————————
Jaemin was a good boy. 
Jaemin was a very good boy. 
That’s why, as he rambled on about something, something blah blah momentum and force nonsense, you wanted to lean over and take a big bite right from his pretty long neck. 
It’s also why you kind of hated him if you thought about it for too long. 
~
~
Jaemin wasn’t someone you’d consider yourself very close with, actually, he wasn’t someone you ever really spoke to until very recently. He was a nice guy, a hard working student, and seemed to get along with everyone that spoke to him, but to you, he was more of just a guy you’d admire from afar. You knew enough about him to know that he just wasn’t someone you’d ever cross paths with if it wasn’t for your shared classes and mutual friends. 
But other than that, you never had any reason to dislike him. Not until your physics professor gave you a reason. 
“This is just how it is,” the older man had said, his face showing more age than he had actually lived from how many students he’d had to deal with, “the few homework assignments you do turn in, aren’t good,” he spoke honestly as he flips through the very few copies of your submitted work, “and your grade just keeps dropping by the day. So it’s either you find some initiative to bring up your grade, or I’m going to request you drop my class.”
“But it’s already past the drop period,” you argued, worry blooming across the features of your face, “if I drop it now, I fail immediately.”
“I mean this in the nicest way I can possibly say it,” he said with an exhausted sigh, “but that’s not really my problem. I do as much as I can as your professor, but I can’t force you to do your work.”
When he said this you wanted to cry. Well, no, you wanted to offer to suck his dick for a higher grade if you’re being totally honest with yourself, but the lovely picture that he kept on his desk of him, his wife, and baby daughter was enough to plague you with guilt for even considering that. 
“Well, then I can bring up my grade instead, right?” You asked hopefully, the look of skepticism that flashed on his face making you shrink, “that’s what you said,” you reminded, your hands moving rapidly in front of you as you tried to encourage him and yourself, “bring up my grade or drop the class. Bringing up my grade is an option.”
“The science department has a student-ran study center,” he told you with a sigh, standing from his desk to politely tell you the conversation was coming to an end, “they even have student tutors that can help you if you’re that determined to make this work.”
“Thank you, professor,” you spoke genuinely, moving to his office door with a weak smile on your face, “I swear I’ll figure this out.”
“Study center is just down the hall,” he informed you, “but,” he continued, stopping you in your tracks as you already had a foot out his door, “only go there if you’re serious about this. They’re students too, so you don’t need to be wasting their time.”
His words still sting even now as you sit next to Jaemin, your pen bouncing against the library table in impatience. It stung, but now as you sit zoned out staring at the way Jaemin’s Adam’s apple bounces as he speaks, you can kind of understand where he was coming from. 
You weren’t a horrible student, you just struggled to focus on classes that don’t actually interest you, and physics does not interest you in the slightest. Jaemin on the other hand, was a phenomenal student. There didn’t seem to be any subject he had any real issue with, but physics was his bread and butter. That’s why the sweet girl who assigned tutors sent you to him, but it’s also why you kind of wanted to rip his head off his nice, wide shoulders. 
You wouldn’t call Jaemin a nerd, not to his face at least, but he genuinely wasn’t what you’d think of when you pictured a text-book “nerd.” He didn’t struggle in social situations, he didn’t seem weird or creepy, and he was admittedly drop-dead gorgeous. He just really seemed to really love math and science, which would be a huge help to you, if you could just stop staring at his throat like a hungry animal. 
“And when you consider the angle in which…” he says as he turns to look at you, the dazed look being very evident on your face and making him trail off before he sternly says your name, “are you even listening to me right now?”
You jump at his sudden acknowledgment, the annoyed look on his face reminding you of the main issue you had with him. 
Jaemin kind of hated you. 
You would understand if he hated you for not paying attention, you could see how frustrating that would be, but he seemed to hate you before he even started tutoring you. The day you met, he was immediately distant and cold towards you, and you had seen plenty of instances of him being a very friendly guy. So, you were very confused, and you even tried to switch your tutor to avoid the tension and preserve the image of him you liked to fantasize about, but unfortunately, Jaemin was all they had. So the deeper you got into tutoring sessions with him, and the more you saw just how blatantly he did not like your presence, that’s where you started to zone out, choosing to at least appreciate the eye candy if you weren’t going to get anything academic out of the relationship. 
“Yeah totally,” you lie, leaning closer to look at the textbook as you clear your throat, “just trying to keep up.”
You laugh weakly as he keeps staring at you, his dark eyes and the way his thick eyebrows lower making you feel like he can read your mind. You shift uncomfortably under his glare, and when he simply rolls his eyes, you feel your own spark of annoyance bubble up in your chest. 
“How about we call it a day then, hm?” He offers, flashing a fake smile in your direction before he loudly slams the book in front of him closed, “you very clearly have more important things to worry about.”
“You know what, Jaemin,” you sigh, matching his sarcastically sweet tone, “I actually do.” 
You both immediately turn to your respective things, packing your bags and moving to leave the small private study room. He stands quickly before you, turning to look down at you as irritation radiates off his body. 
“Well, whatever it is,” he starts, putting his hands together in front of his chest to speak to you like a kindergarten teacher, “I can only assume it must be incredibly important considering you’re putting it above the class you’re miserably failing.”
“I’ll have you know,” you argue, making him stop in his walk towards the door, “my grade has gone up more than a few points these past few weeks,” you speak honestly this time, an amused laugh coming out as a huff from your nose, “which I can admit, is partially due to your help, but also because some of us, actually know how to balance school work and having a fucking life.”
“And what exactly was that supposed to suggest?” He asks, turning back to you with an offended twist in his features. 
“Oh come on,” you huff again, getting up and walking to stand next to him at the door, “you know exactly what I was suggesting.”
“Actually I don’t,” he shrugs, crossing his arms and tilting his head, “so why don’t you enlighten me?”
“You. Have. No. Life,” you speak slowly and childishly, smiling when you can tell your words bother him. 
“I have a life,” he scoffs, getting annoyed in a way that is a lot more enjoyable to you then it should be, “you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh I don’t?” You start, looking up at the ceiling as if you’re deep in thought, “I have never seen you without your head buried in a book, and of all the parties I’ve been to, I’ve never seen you once,” your hand flitters in the air as you speak, and you continue, speaking over him as he tries to defend himself, “which arguably, could just mean we don’t go to the same parties, right? But that’s not the case, at least not according to Jeno.”
The mention of his friend’s name makes him stiffen, his lips curling in between his teeth as he shakes his head, “just because I don’t go to parties doesn’t mean I don’t have a life.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t,” you agree, nodding your head, “but the fact that the only place you go to aside from your dorm and your classes is the library…” you trail off, clicking your tongue in faux disappointment, before you turn to open the door. 
“Also,” you start to add as you step out of the room, “you might want to have a talk to Jeno about keeping some things to himself,” you nod gently, “I swear that boy is just an open book when you find the right questions to ask.”
——
Jaemin clearly doesn’t take your advice about talking to Jeno, or at least Jeno just didn’t care if he did. Because not even a full hour later, he was sending you a text to tell you how annoyed Jaemin was when he got back to their shared dorm. 
I’m surprised there wasn’t steam coming out of his ears, Jeno’s message read, the multiple laughing emojis he put on the end telling you he was probably rolling in unsympathetic laughter after Jaemin gave him a rundown of what happened. 
You didn’t want to enjoy the relayed information as much as you did, but there was just something about getting the last laugh with Jaemin that gave you a rush. So you grinned stupidly at your phone, the idea that you could plague Jaemin’s mind without having to be physically present making the device shake in your hand. 
The shaking stops when another text from Jeno pops up on your screen. 
Anyways, the message starts, now that you’re free of Jaemin’s wrath you should come out to the bar with us tonight. 
You don’t know exactly who the “us” in his message entails, Jeno’s list of friends being long and always interchangeable, but you agree regardless. The need to get wasted to celebrate getting on Jaemin’s nerves almost overwhelming. 
——
The bar is loud but familiar as you stumble in. Bodies of already drunk college students dance and writhe in front of you, and you reach to tug at the hem of your dress as your eyes dart around in search of a familiar face. 
The fading pink of Haechan’s hair is the first thing you see, and you let out a sigh of relief that gets lost amongst the heavy bass that shakes the floor. You start to stumble towards the beacon that is the boy’s head, and when you see Jeno sat next to him animatedly telling a story, you feel a soft smile pull at your lips. 
Your smile doesn’t prevail for long, as when you get within a few feet of the table they have claimed, you see that the person who sits on Jeno’s other side is none other than the boy who put the fire in your chest that you anticipated in smothering out with alcohol. 
You stop in shock for a moment, the sight of Jaemin sitting in the bar unfamiliar and admittedly, a bit weird. He doesn’t look extremely out of place, for one he doesn’t have his face within inches of an academic article, but you can see the tension that pushes at his shoulders. 
His hand is wrapped around a mostly filled drink, his lips strained slightly red to tell you that he’s taken at least a few sips, and he leans in with a furrow in his brow as he tries to hear Jeno’s voice over the music. 
You aren’t really aware of how blatantly you’re staring at him, analyzing the way he moves and interacts like he’s a wild animal outside of his usual environment, until his eyes flicker quickly towards you. He has to double take, not registering who you are at first glance, but when he returns your stare, you can tell he feels shy under your intense eyes. 
You can tell he clears his throat from the way his throat shifts, his head dropping slightly as he nudges a still rambling Jeno. Your legs seem to remember their function in that moment as you start approaching them again, a degree more hesitantly now, and you’re almost directly behind Jeno when he finally turns around. 
“Hey,” Jeno drawls, speaking your name as a smile fills his face, “I was wondering when the fuck you’d get here.” 
You can tell he’s already a few drinks in from the way the skin of his face flushes and how he wraps his arms loosely around the back of his chair. Without thinking, you reach to brush the few strands of hair that’s fallen in front of his eyes, and return his smile with a small laugh. 
“Well, I’m here,” you say, leaning back to playfully motion your hands up and down your body, “you can hold your applause.”
Your words earn a laugh from Haechan as he reaches to pinch at your elbow, but Jeno only scoffs. You almost forget Jaemin is even there as he sits there silently, but when Jeno turns towards him as quickly as his intoxicated brain will allow him, the boy straightens at the sudden acknowledgment. 
“We saved you a seat next to Jaem,” he nods, leaning his head back to wink at you not as discreetly as he had probably intended, “if you think you can hold back from ripping his head off for the night.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” you hollowly promise, leaning down to kiss his heated forehead before you step towards the empty seat, “for now at least.”
Jaemin shifts uncomfortably in his seat as you sit down, and you hold back the urge to roll your eyes. Instead you scoot your chair closer and lean towards him as Jeno starts to clue you in to the story he had already gotten halfway through. 
——
You, Haechan, and Jeno bounce the conversation around the three of you as the night goes on, Jaemin only adding grunts and nods of acknowledgment where he sought fit. He looks more comfortable than when you first arrived, and you can only imagine it’s due to his drink now being mostly finished at this point, but he seems to refuse to let his eyes linger on you for more than a few brief seconds every now and again. 
“So, Jeno,” Haechan starts, taking a long swig of his beer as a teasing slur weaves through his words, “how’d you get our little bookworm out of the library for once?”
He leans over Jeno to pinch roughly at Jaemin’s thigh as he speaks, the boy next to you jumping and shooting him a scowl in response. His fingers tap in annoyance against the table in front of him, and as the beer you stole from Jeno slinks through your veins, you can’t stop yourself as your eyes zero in on the movement. 
“He asked to come,” Jeno admits playfully, proudly slapping Jaemin on the back and forcing a sarcastic smile to spread over his face, “I guess he finally decided we were good enough to get a drink with.”
“He needed it,” you interject before you can even stop the words from coming from your mouth, and as Jaemin’s blank stare flicks over to you for longer than a few seconds, you stumble to explain, “I mean,” you say with a huff, laying a hesitant hand on his bicep, “you should see how tense this one gets when were in that study room.”
“Probably because he’s bricked up from being locked in a room with you,” Jeno laughs, leaning forward to shoot you what you think is his attempt at another wink, “I know I’d be.”
“That’s because you’re disgusting,” you argue, rolling your eyes, “Jaemin’s a good boy, isn’t that right?”
You glance at him with a smile, just trying to include him in the conversation that centers around himself, but when his arm tenses under your touch, you slip your hand away from him quickly. 
“Yeah, our perfect little guy,” Haechan coos, reaching behind Jeno now to tug at Jaemin’s ear. 
Jaemin jerks away from his touch quickly, grumbling under his breath and making you tense as his knee accidentally pushes between yours briefly. He doesn’t seem to notice the action or the way you respond, as he just straightens back up when Haechan pulls away and rolls his shoulders back. 
“I’m tense because the person I tutor,” Jaemin finally interjects, his eyes darting back to you, “doesn’t seem to actually care about anything I’m telling them,” he continues, turning back to his friends, and you can’t help but feel like he’s tattling on you. 
“He speaks!” Jeno almost yells, ignoring Jaemin’s admission that you’re a horrible student, “but admit it,” he says, his voice calmer as his arm falls across the back of Jaemin’s chair, “you have a hard time paying attention too with someone that hot sitting so close to you, don’t you?”
“Jeno,” you interrupt as he tries to wink again, trying to spare yourself and Jaemin from his question, “have I ever told you how much of a gentleman you are?”
“Actually, no you haven’t,” he responds, the shock in his voice being so genuine that it throws you a bit. 
“Good,” you nod, “because it would be a lie if I did.”
You want to enjoy the way Jeno starts to petulantly writhe in his seat, his head falling back as he whines about how mean you are, but you suddenly feel the weight of eyes on you. You hesitantly flick your eyes towards Jaemin, and you see him staring blankly at you in your peripherals. You know he sees the cautious glance you offer him before you look back towards where Haechan is laughing at Jeno’s display, but he shows no interest in looking away, instead he just sinks back in his seat as you start to squirm. 
You cross your legs as he seems lost in trailing his eyes over you shamelessly, your eyes darting back to him a few times as you try to focus on the new conversation Haechan and Jeno had started, but he seems unmoving aside from his eyebrows knitting together like he’s trying to figure something out. You want to ask him what’s up, the question bubbling rudely at the back of your throat, but his face just continues to screw up as if he’s angry and it kills any syllable that tries to form on your tongue. 
You jump slightly at the first touch of his hand on your knee, his fingers swirling curiously against your skin as if it was a normal action for him. But you could count on one hand the times Jaemin has made any physical contact with you, and considering how most of them were completely unintentional, having him move towards you with so much purpose made you twitch. 
You glance down at where his fingers prod at your skin, the same fingers you’ve unfortunately found yourself staring at as he wrote notes down in your textbook during your tutoring session, before you finally look up towards him. 
His head is tilted down, watching the small invisible patterns he creates on your leg with the same deep, angry look on his face. You can’t even begin to imagine what he’s thinking, but when he looks up to make eye contact with you, it feels like he can see every thought you’ve ever had. 
You feel sucked into a bubble with him as Jeno and Haechan are too busy talking over one another to notice the newly formed tension. It feels like you’ve started a staring contest with one another, the unspoken rule that you can’t look away being agreed upon quickly, but you can’t help but wonder what would happen if you did. 
You see a small twitch at the corner of his lip when you harshly swallow, a movement so minuscule that you’re shocked you notice it, but you feel your head jerk back slightly in response. You feel like he’s challenging you to something, to make a move or say something to clue in your other friends into what he’s doing, but you just sit there, waiting. 
At the exact moment you bring your bottom lip between your teeth, he moves. His hand slides up further, cupping your knee with his entire palm, as his fingers brush against your thigh in a way that would be comforting if it wasn’t for how confused you were. 
You notice quickly how much you like the feeling of his hand, the realization flooding through your chest so quickly, you pray it doesn’t show on your face. His fingers are slightly calloused, gentle but firm as they dimple your skin, and his touch makes goosebumps raise on your skin, and from the way his eyebrow darts up quickly towards his hairline, you know he feels it. 
A sharp intake of air goes through your nose when he slides up your thigh, his hand getting more confident as he starts to roughly grope at your flesh, but his face stays as blank as ever. Your facade drops as you finally toss him a look of confusion, but he just continues to knead your tensing muscle until you feel his fingertips start to push under the hem of your dress. 
You stand too quickly on wobbling legs as a hiccup of shock bubbles from your lips, and you have to place your hand on the table to steady yourself as his hand falls away. Jeno and Haechan’s conversation dies as they turn to look at you in shocked concern, but all you can focus on is the way Jaemin’s head tilts back, his face finally pulling into a look of sleazy pride as he watches you in amusement. 
“I um,” you try to speak, your voice coming out cracked and quiet before you clear your throat, “I’m gonna go get a new drink,” you nod, a weak smile pulling on your lips, “your taste in beer is shit, Jeno.”
He groans immediately at your words, the concern slipping from his face and getting replaced by playful annoyance, “no one told you to steal my drink you big baby,” he grunts, reaching for the abandoned bottle only to be disappointed to learn that you finished it off. 
You roll your eyes as he stares at the empty bottle longingly, his ability to sulk over anything being admirable to some extent, but you’re glad that he’s now distracted by the label as he doesn’t see the way Jaemin’s hand sticks out to brush against the inside of your thigh as you step away. 
You walk quickly away from the table, your arms lifting to cross over your chest as your thoughts swirl in your brain rapidly. You don’t look back towards the table as you push towards the bar, but you can feel the way Jaemin’s eyes follow your every move regardless. 
You have a new drink in hand when you feel a presence next to you, a broad chest pushing into your shoulder as you slide your finger around the rim of your glass. You stayed at the bar, taking a few sips of your drink, in hopes to collect your thoughts about what had just happened between you and the boy that had never shown any other feelings but hatred and indifference towards you since you met him. And you felt like you had formed some coherent opinions on the situation, until he pressed against your side and made every thought fly from your mind at once. 
You turn your head hesitantly towards him as he leans his side against the bar, the soft smile he wears making you even more confused as he nods. You try to smile back, but it doesn’t reach your eyes in a way that you know would be more convincing, so you just look back towards your drink with a huff. 
“I told the guys I was coming to make sure you were okay,” he admits, his voice rumbling his chest and shooting vibrations against your shoulder, “also that I wanted another drink.”
“Do you?” You ask, the question honest as you’re shocked to think he would ever finish the first one. 
“I guess,” he shrugs, leaning to get the bartender’s attention, before he looks back to you, “I’m here so I might as well.”
“Why are you here?” You ask bluntly, your eyebrows furrowing in curiosity as you look at him again, his stare just as intense as it was at the table as you make eye contact. 
“It’s a public place,” he grins, reaching to tug at your ear. 
“Why did you really come?” You ask, pulling away from his touch as annoyance builds in your chest, how casually he’s treating you suddenly making you suspicious. 
He hesitates for a moment, his face twitching as if he’s debating whether or not to tell you the truth, before he smiles again. 
“Jeno told me you were coming,” he nods, pushing his tongue against his cheek as he hums. You don’t respond, instead you just stare at him in confusion as you wait for him to elaborate, “and you think I don’t have a life,” he continues, making you tense, “so… here I am. Having a life.”
“Jaemin,” you start, speaking genuinely for once as it starts to feel like everything that conspired between you earlier happened in an alternate dimension, “you’re a good guy,” you try to reassure, feeling a small inkling of guilt about your earlier words, “you don’t have to be Mr. party animal just because you’re in college.”
“No,” he agrees, with a sigh, “but you clearly seem to think I’m some boring goody two shoes.”
“Jaemin, why do you care what I think?” You ask as you take a sip of your drink, “we’re not even friends.”
You see a flash of something on his face when you say this, but he covers it quickly and just leaves you more confused, “what if I showed you that I’m not some loser who just sits in the library all day?” He asks as he steps closer to you, lowering his voice as he locks his eyes onto yours, “I can prove to you that I can cause as much trouble as Jeno.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” you argue, the mention of your mutual friend making you shake your head as you try to think of a correlation, “when has my opinion ever mattered to you?”
“I’d give the exact date if I could,” he mutters as he reaches to grab your wrist, and before you can even question what he could possibly mean by what he said, he’s pulling you from the bar. 
Your drink clatters from your hand as you stumble on your feet, and in a panic, you try to reach to catch it, but as he tugs you through the mass of people trying to squeeze into the now empty spot you leave, you abandon the glass as you try to keep up with his long strides. He steps so quickly and with so much purpose you trip over your feet and earn a few elbows in your sides, but as he leads you to a familiar door, you can’t help but focus on wondering where this is going. 
“Why are you taking me to the bathroom?” You ask without thinking, speaking loudly over the music and causing strangers to turn to you two in confusion. He ignores your words though, and before you can try to interrogate him further, he’s pushing open the door and pulling you in. 
You gasp as you stumble into the room, surprised at the rough way he handles you as well as the fact that no one’s inside. You’ve been in this bathroom enough times in your college career to know that it usually has at least one or two drunk girls in it, either crying in a stall or fixing their makeup, but as Jaemin turns to lay his back against the door, you realize quickly it’s just you two alone. 
“Now can you tell me why we’re in the bathroom?” You sigh, laughing gently to cover the nerves that bloom in your chest as your eyes trail over the obscene amount of graffiti that covers the walls. 
Your laughter trails off awkwardly as he just continues staring at you, and you come to realize you somehow prefer when Jaemin is mean to you rather than when he’s silent. You didn’t love the fact that Jaemin hated you, but you had at least come to find it amusing; him staring silently just made you feel anxious and small. 
You feel like weak prey as he starts stepping over to you, his steps slow and calculated as he eyes your entire body. You want to ask something else, to fill the quiet of the bathroom with something other than just the muffled music and voices that slip under the door, but your voice dies in your throat as he gnaws on the inside of his cheek in thought. 
Your arms cross over your ribs as you hug yourself anxiously, shrinking slightly when he stands in front of you. You try to hold eye contact with him, trying to read whatever thoughts he has swimming in his head, but the intensity he holds in his glare licks at your skin until you're forced to turn your eyes towards the floor. 
You tense when you feel his fingers brush against your jaw, a reminder of how they felt gripping your thigh flooding into your mind and making you pull in a deep breath. You stay frozen in your spot as his hands trail across your skin, his thumbs pushing gently into your cheeks, before his palms lay against the sides of your neck. He squeezes at your skin, forcing your head back up slowly until all you can see is his blank expression, the lack of emotion he shows making your lips part slightly. 
You stumble back slightly as he pushes himself into you, and it takes a few seconds for your brain to register that his lips are pressed tightly against yours. He kisses you roughly, your teeth clacking together and rattling your skull, and you reach quickly towards his chest in an attempt to steady yourself. 
You grunt in confusion against his mouth, your eyes fluttering as the voices in your head debate on whether or not to kiss him back. The last remaining sliver of rationality in your mind screams at you, begging for answers and to understand the way he’s acting, and with a sharp breath, you finally gain the strength to push your bodies apart. 
His hands remain on you as you stare at him wildly, your mouth opening and closing as you try to find your voice, but the way his tongue darts out to lick your lipgloss off his lips makes your thoughts stutter. Your fingers dig into and curl around the fabric of his shirt, a need to pull him back to you making your arms twitch, but before you can make the move, you blurt out the first words that come to your mind. 
“What the fuck is up with you tonight?” You ask, your voice exasperated and winded. You stare at him, your eyes darting around his face as you silently beg him for answers, but when he just smiles in response, anger bubbles in your chest. 
Every emotion you’ve ever felt for the boy that clings to you floods your system; your annoyance when he makes mean comments, your amusement when you get on his nerves, and even the weird underlying arousal you’ve felt towards him whenever you paid too much attention to how handsome he was. But all of it was just always met with his clear indifference towards you, so why was he doing these things to you so suddenly? Accusing him of not having a life wasn’t even close to the rudest thing you’ve ever said to him, so why was that his tipping point? And why was groping your thigh and kissing you in a dirty bar bathroom his response?
“Does it bother you?” He whispers, his voice becoming rougher and making your hands twist tighter into his shirt, “I thought you liked making me mad?”
You want to respond, to ask him something that will give you clarification of where his head was at, but he doesn’t give you the chance to formulate a coherent sentence before his lips are pressing against yours again. 
You don’t push him away this time, your resolve breaking as he licks at your mouth. You lean into him instead, your mouth falling open as he starts to walk you backwards, and you tuck the question of what was it that I said to make him act like this into your pocket for another day. 
You feel breathless as his tongue dips into your mouth, his hands pushing tightly into your skin so you can’t pull away even if you wanted. You jerk slightly when your back bumps into the wall of one of the stalls, smacking your shoulder painfully into the edge as he blindly guides you to step into the small space. You hear the high pitched creaking of the stall door as he reaches one hand to pull it behind him, and as he pushes you to lean against the cool metal wall, you hear him slide the rusted lock into place. 
When his hand returns to your body, he pushes it against the curve of your back, pulling you closer to him as he grunts into your mouth. You pant when he finally detaches his lips from yours, your lungs begging for oxygen as he tilts your head back and licks at your jaw. His teeth scrape against your skin harshly, and as he pushes his leg to rest between yours, you let out a grumbling plea of his name. 
He bites roughly at your neck, stopping only to suck at patches of flesh until it stings. You feel your hips start to tilt towards his thigh, searching for friction as he abuses the skin that protects your drying throat, and when he smooths both his hands down your body until they rest on your ass, he digs his fingers into your skin to hold you still. 
You mumble pathetically, moving your hands to wrap around his shoulders as you try to shift your body in his hold, but all he does is smile against your skin as he drops his head to lick between your collarbones. 
“You think you deserve anything?’ He asks with an amused scoff, kneading at your ass until your dress starts to lift, “I’m doing this because I want to, not because you’re asking.”
His nails dig into your skin as he speaks, his head lifting again to lick at the shell of your ear as he pulls your thighs further apart. Your underwear shifts tighter against your body as he moves you as he pleases, the fabric sticking to your skin and making you gasp as you realize how wet you’ve gotten, and it feels like you might start falling apart if he doesn’t do something more. 
“Jaemin, you’re a good boy,” he grunts in your ear, mocking your voice and words from earlier as he moves to tug your underwear upward, “and good boys don’t do stuff like this right?”
You whimper quietly, the fear that he’ll stop making your hips squirm against his hold. You would take back what you said if you could, if it meant him giving you what you need now, but you can’t help but wonder if he’d even think to do this if you hadn’t said it in the first place. 
“How wet are you?’ He asks crudely, pressing his nose into your temple as he bites down on your cheek, “how badly have you ruined your pretty little panties for some boring little bookworm?”
Your head bumps dully against the wall behind you as you tilt it back in frustration, a small huff slips from your nose as your body heats up in embarrassment. You don’t want to answer him, the way he throws your beliefs back into your face making you feel stupid for ever thinking it, but you would never said any of it if you knew what he could do to your body. 
You jolt when his hand swats at the skin of your ass, the way he holds his palm and fingers flat making the sting bad enough that you let out a small squeak, and when his fingers immediately move to scratch at the tender skin, a sob deflates your chest. 
“No wonder you’re such a bad student,” he clicks his tongue, “you can’t even answer when someone asks you a simple question. Guess I’ll have to find out for myself.”
He keeps his nails sunk into your skin as he drags his hand to the front of your thigh, leaving angry scratches in his path. You feel the painful throbbing between your thighs, and when his traces over the seam of your underwear, you grit your teeth and whine. 
The way he continues to bite at your skin feels like a punishment, his teeth scraping at your face and jaw making stabs of pain spread throughout your nerves, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the dull ache you feel in your core. You need something, but how his fingers feel tickling at the inside of your thigh stops you from voicing any demands. 
He lets out a rumbling groan when he presses his middle finger against the damp spot that’s formed at the seat of your underwear, the sound deep and loud around you and making your heart flutter in your chest. And when he starts to circle it and pushes until he shoves the fabric shallowly inside you, your thighs tense and clamp around his hand. 
“You’re ruined,” he confirms, sounding proud and cocky over how your arousal seeps through and sticks to his finger, “it’s dripping down your thighs.”
You mumble in shame at his words, the way he chuckles softly making you let out a soft hum of his name. One of your shaking hands falls from his shoulder, wrapping around his wrist as you suddenly want to pull him away, but you feel his forearm flex immediately, keeping his hand where he wants as you fall apart. 
He grabs roughly at the crotch of your underwear, twisting and pulling up on the thin fabric until it digs into your sensitive clit. It’s a weird feeling, not enough movement or friction to give you any relief, but from the sounds that roll from the back of his throat, he must be more than pleased from how the sensation makes your face twist. 
He forces the fabric in place for another moment or two, tugging on it just enough to make your breathing pick up as your knees buckle, before he finally pushes it out of the way. You cringe when his fingers finally slip against you, the sticky sounds that attack your eardrums as he smears your arousal around making you much too aware of what you already knew. 
“So good,” he praises, prodding at your entrance as he drops his forehead onto your shoulder, “so fucking slutty and perfect.”
You both sign when he sinks his fingers inside you, two of his long digits stretching you open as he curls them gently. He pushes slowly, taking his time to feel the way you wrap around him, and when you clench softly he lets out a hiss of approval. 
He shifts slightly, straightening up and pulling the hand that was still pressed against your back until it rests around your throat. His fingers drum against the side of your neck, testing the waters for a moment, and when they finally push against your veins, your eyes fly open again in shock. 
He pushes you tightly against the wall, keeping you in place as he stares into your eyes, and when he can see them glass over from how dizzy you’ve become, he starts to drag his fingers out of you. 
He seems fascinated by how your face reacts to the friction, even the smallest twitch in your features making him tilt his head and grumble under his breath. But when he shoves his fingers back in too quickly for you to handle, he smiles at the way your mouth falls open. 
He starts fucking you quickly with his fingers, the pace rough and overwhelming and makes your legs shake. You twist your hand that still wraps around his wrist as you try to get him to slow down, but he’s too strong for your weakening muscles, and he pushes easily past your tightening grip. 
“Take it,” he commands, spitting the words quietly into your face as shakes your neck slightly, “you’re gonna fucking take it.”
You cry out as he parts his fingers inside you, the sound coming out broken and strained as your hips start rocking sloppily. Your nails dig into his wrist, your eyes starting to roll back, and all you can do is give him control of your body as you start to melt in his hold. 
You can’t control the volume of the noises that break mindlessly from your throat, the wet sounds that come from between your legs being the only thing to combat how your moans bounce around the metal walls. You want to calm down, to find your bearings and keep some decorum, but when he tilts his wrist to push the heel of his hand into your neglected clit, the last remaining bits of sanity and awareness slip from your body. 
The pleasure comes on too fast, the tightening knot in your belly forming too quickly and making your vision blur. You can barely make out the details of his determined face, but the vulgar words that spill out in a jumble off his tongue is enough to let you know much he dreamed of seeing you like this. 
You bounce in his palm, the lack of control he has on your hips making you move wildly and without rhythm. You can feel now the arousal he claimed was dripping down your legs, but your mind is too far gone to be ashamed of it anymore. 
“You’re such a mess,” he sighs, keeping his fingers steady and quick no matter how much you squirm against him, “you’re gonna come so hard it drips down my arm aren’t you?”
You pant and moan without thought, agreeing with him with mindless hums as you try to nod against his fist, and as if waiting for your acknowledgment, you feel the promise of your orgasm start scratching down your spine. 
Your breath comes out in short, sharp huffs as your stomach starts to flex tightly, the way your toes curl into your shoes making the arches of your feet ache. You try to hold off, to control the way you react as the reality of where he has you weighs on your shoulders, but as he pushes the tips of his fingers into the spot that makes your blood rush loudly in your ears, you feel pleasure crashing down on you all at once. 
Your sounds are muffled as he leans forward to press his mouth against yours, his tongue licking past your teeth until he can brush it against yours crudely. He kisses you messily, eating the moans you let out as if he needs them to survive, and as your back arches away from the wall, you feel your combined saliva drip down your chin. 
He keeps his hand moving against you, fucking you roughly through your orgasm as he rolls against your sensitive clit. You finally let go of his wrist, the overstimulation of your nerves becoming too much, and you move until both your hands are clinging to his shoulders in the need to keep him close. 
He slows down when he hears the begging whimpers you let out against his lips, his fingers pushing gently until they slip out and start to pet at your heated skin. He continues toying with you, coating you in the evidence of your orgasm, and he smiles when you let out a hiccup every time he brushes your buzzing clit. 
You're still swimming in the afterglow of his body against yours, clinging to him desperately as the fear of what will happen after his lips slip away from yours tries to clear the fog that wraps around your mind, when the bathroom door creaks open. You barely hear it, not registering what it means as his fingers still tap against your neck, and you're too lost in the taste of his lips to hear the heavy footsteps approaching the stall. 
The loud banging that rattles the door makes you both jump, Jaemin having the awareness to pull away from the kiss, but not enough to stop sliding his fingers against you. You try to slam your thighs together, trying to push him out and away, but he looks too unbothered by the interruption for your liking. 
“Come on kids,” a deep, unfamiliar voice speaks from the other side of the door, “this isn’t a classy establishment, but you still can’t do that shit here.”
If you could crawl into a hole and die at that moment, you would, but instead you just curl into Jaemin’s chest in shame. He finally pulls his hands away, releasing your throat to hold gently at the back of your head, and you grumble in annoyance when you feel laughter shake his chest. 
You move towards the door when you hear the stranger step away, your skin heated and your hands falling to push at the hem of your dress as the need to run away from the room overwhelms your senses. Your limbs feel too heavy, and your weak legs make you stumble, but you scramble to be presentable enough to face the room full of strangers. 
“Hey, wait,” Jaemin stops you, his hand moving to grab your arm and you cringe at the feeling of your arousal that still sticks to his skin. You tense as he pulls you back, your anxiety rising at the idea of talking about what just happened, but you huff in annoyance when he just slams you back into his chest. 
“What are yo-“ you try to ask, pushing against his arms as you try to squirm away, but he wraps an arm around you tightly as he slinks to squat behind you. You say his name, your voice scandalized as you feel him pushing your dress back up your hips, “we have to go.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he blows you off, using his free hand to drag your underwear down your thighs. He taps carelessly at the back of your knees when the fabric pools around your feet, and you jerk in shock enough for him to slip the still damp article of clothing from under you. 
He stands quickly, letting you go and allowing you to whip around with an angry furrow in your brow. You move to fix your dress again in confusion, and when he twirls your underwear around his fingers and offers you a sleazy grin, your hands twitch in the need to hit him. 
“Call it a memento,” he shrugs, holding your underwear out as if to appraise them, before he shoves them in his pocket, “my own little souvenir.”
You stumbled out of the bathroom quickly, an annoyed grimace on your face and a grinning Jaemin hot on your heels. You returned to the table, feeling incredibly exposed from the lack of underwear beneath your dress, but grateful as Haechan and Jeno seemed too drunk to notice how long you were both gone and the fact that neither of you returned with drinks. 
You didn’t talk anymore to Jaemin, even though you left the bathroom with way more questions than when you entered, and you continued not talking to him for the next few days. You texted Jeno, asking him to tell Jaemin that you would have to skip your tutoring sessions for a while, and you made sure to dart out of the room before him anytime you were in the same class as him. 
You weren’t sure why you were avoiding him, maybe the shame of what you two did was just too much for you to look him in the eyes, but that didn’t stop you from itching for an answer. You found yourself staring at him in class, drilling holes into the side of his face as he listened to the lecture in oblivion, as if you’d find some kind of answer lingering on his form. 
It was about a week later when your curiosity became too much, and the way you were constantly using Jeno to cancel your tutoring sessions felt too childish. He had sent you a text, asking you if he needed to relay anything to Jaemin, and you felt almost crushed at the fact that he was anticipating you being a big baby. Not that he knew why you were canceling, you hadn’t told him what happened and you assumed Jaemin didn’t either, but it all made you feel a little foolish. 
Which is how you ended up back in the library, staring blankly at the door of the private study room as if there was a carnivorous animal behind it, rather than just Jaemin. 
You cringe as the door creaks open, your hand so tight around the handle that it makes your fingers ache, and when you peek around the edge of the door, you see him sitting there studying quietly. 
He turns quickly, his face flush as he squeezes his pencil in his hand. All the confidence and slyness he held in his features the other night is gone, and is replaced by a soft nervousness instead. 
You watch each other intently, neither of you speaking as you see his shoulders tensing as you step into the room. You feel how clammy your palm has gotten after you pull your hand away from the door handle, and you clench your fingers together to relieve some of the stiffness. 
“Hey…” he speaks slowly, testing the waters and visibly relaxing just a bit when you smile softly at him. 
You notice almost immediately how he’s pushed his chair as far to the end of the table as he could, your heart sinking slightly when you see the chair left empty for you has faced the same fate at the other end. You respond just as quietly as you pull out your seat, and you can hear him tapping his pencil on the table when you move it closer to him. 
“Am I allowed to get closer to you?” You ask, trying to break the tension with a nervous laugh, “or are you gonna jump on me for skipping out on tutoring?”
You see his eyes widen at your words, his mouth falling open and closing a few times before he lets out a breath, “yeah I just didn’t know…” he stumbles, “I didn’t mind you skipping.”
“It probably just confirmed you thinking I’m a shitty student, right?” You tease, moving to hit him playfully for a moment, before you reconsider and shrink back as you sit. 
“I don’t think you’re a shitty student,” he argues quietly, turning to you and offering you a soft smile, how genuine he sounds making you shift. 
“That’s not what you said at the bar,” you huff, the words coming out of your mouth before you can stop them. If the tension was thick when you walked in, it thickens even further with you mentioning that night, and you mentally kick yourself for bringing it up. 
He falls quiet again, his eyes turning towards the table as thoughts move through his head. You want to eat the words out of the air, rewind time and never bring it up, but instead you’re just forced to sit there and stew in your lapse of judgment. 
“I said some stupid shit that night,” he mumbles, tracing his pencil against his paper and watching it like he’s hypnotized, “did even stupider shit.”
“So you regret it?” You hesitantly ask, keeping your eyes trained on the side of his face in hopes of catching the smallest movement or reaction. 
“Yes,” he breaths, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling, oblivious to the way your chest tightens, “and no,” he sounds strained, confused as he filters through his thoughts, “I can’t sit here and act like I didn’t enjoy it, but I can’t help but feel like a bad friend.”
“Why would you feel like a bad friend?” 
“Because you know,” he grumbles, moving his hands in front of him as he speaks, “it kind of intrudes on whatever you and Jeno have going on. Not that I know what you two have going on, but to make a move like that on you was kind of a dick head thing to do.”
You jerk back at his rambling, his words coming out too quickly and making your mind take a moment to register what he means. But even when you collected everything he said in your mind, you’re left even more confused than you did that night. 
“What are you talking about?” You interrupt, his shoddy defense and explanation coming to a halt as his head whips towards you, “there’s nothing going on between me and Jeno.”
“What do you mean what am I talking about?” He asks, his eyebrows pulling together tightly as his voice pitches in confusion, “you and Jeno!”
“What about me and Jeno?” You lean towards him, matching his volume as you resist the urge to grab and shake him, “Jeno is my friend.”
“I know that,” he says in frustration, leaning closer to you as well, “but you’re also kind of more than friends, right?”
“No,” you say quickly, shaking your head, “did Jeno say something to you to make you think we were?”
“No,” he says shyly, shrinking back slightly in shame, “but I see the way you two act, and I just thought… you’re always texting and hanging out, and the fact that you never say anything to me directly, it’s always through Jeno.”
You stare at him in shock, the jealousy that drips from his words making your brain feel like it’s coated in mud. 
“Jeno is just fun to get drunk with,” you defend, “and he texts everyone, that doesn’t mean there’s something going on between us,” you feel lost as you speak, the accusations he throws at you making you feel flustered, “and you hate me! So why would I go to you directly?”
You watch as emotions shift across his face, the hope that picks up his features when you confirm you and Jeno are just friends makes your chest warm, but it’s short lived when he deflates at the last thing you say. 
“I don’t…” he groans, moving his hand to roughly swipe at his face, “I’m such an idiot.” 
You move your chair again, bringing it closer to him and forcing yourself into his space before you reach to pull his hand away. 
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” You ask sternly, the confusion getting too much for you to deal with patiently anymore. 
“You’re going to think I’m an asshole,” he warns, hesitating until you throw him a look that tells him you already think that exactly, “I… when I first met you, I really liked you,” he confesses, his body relaxing as if truth takes a weight off of him, “but you were already friends with Jeno and I thought you were into him, so I figured if I distanced myself from you then I wouldn’t have to think about it. It was just a stupid crush so I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but when it didn’t go away, and I had to start tutoring you,” he groans in frustration, “I just ended up being a dick to you instead. I feel like a stupid middle schooler, but that’s just how it ended up.” 
You both sit quietly when he finishes speaking, his body visibly shaking slightly as you stew in his explanation. Was it incredibly stupid and immature of him? Yes. But the way you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him, the way he looked at you and touched you, blurred your rationality and made your heart thump wildly in your chest. Even the way he treated you before that night always gave you a weird rush of excitement whenever you were near him; it made shame settle over you, but it still couldn’t fight the urge you felt to accept his confession blindly. 
“If you thought there was something between me and Jeno,” you start, avoiding acknowledging his confession to give you more time to think, “then why did you do what you did the other night?”
“Alcohol?” He tries, sounding unsure and unconvinced as if the word doesn’t fit right in his mouth. 
“Jaemin, you only had one drink,” you hum, rolling your eyes as he starts to beat around the bush again. 
“I’m… very stupid?” 
“You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met,” you cut him off quickly, throwing him a disappointed look as you roll your eyes, “try again.”
You can see panic settle behind his eyes, the first inkling of fear that you’ve ever seen him show, and it makes concern settle in your stomach. He plays nervously with his fingers, shifting in his seat and sucking in a deep breath before he speaks again.  
“I don’t know,” he speaks honestly, reaching to finally touch you with his hand resting gently on your thigh, “there was just something about what you said that day,” he grunts at the memory, brushing his fingers against your skin as if it helps him think, “and it wasn’t just you saying I don’t have a life, I kind of agree with you on that one, but it was the fact that kept reiterating how good of a guy I am. Even after how I treated you.”
“But you are a good guy,” you defend quietly, moving your hand to lay across his, “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.”
“I don’t think being a good guy is a bad thing, I try to be a good guy all the time,” he rushes to elaborate, turning his hand to tangle his fingers with yours, “I just… I know good guys aren’t your thing. I let everything get to me, and the way Jeno just laughed when I told him about our argument, I felt like I had something to prove.”
“Maybe you are stupid,” you sigh, trying to keep a straight face until his hand tenses around yours and he jerks back in offense, making a soft smile pull on your lips, “you never had to prove anything to me, and maybe I’m fucked up, but even when you were being a dick I still couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
He bites harshly on his lip, shaking his head in disbelief, “thought about me how?” He asks hesitantly, nervous that the conversation will turn against him, but ready to accept it in shame. 
“When I’d zone out while we were studying,” you start, leaning to whisper softly in his ear, hoping to smother your nerves with faux confidence as you pull your connected hands towards your chest, “all I was thinking about was how your hands would feel on me, and how badly I wanted you to do whatever you wanted to me.”
You watch as a shiver runs up his spine, his nails digging into your skin as his eyes slide shut, “I don’t deserve that,” he mutters, wallowing in doubt as images of you crumbling beneath him flutter through his mind. 
“No,” you agree, moving your free hand to brush against the side of his face, “but that didn’t stop me from wanting it.”
You pull him closer before he can respond, your heart jumping to your throat as you press your mouth softly against his. It feels wrong, like you’re doing something you’re not supposed to, but the familiar taste of his lips warms you enough that you can’t even think about pulling away. 
He deepens the kiss quickly, his hand that’s not squeezing almost painfully around yours reaching to push tightly against the curve of your back. He moans quietly, the sound making your jaw fall open, and when he licks desperately into your mouth, you respond with a moan of your own. 
He forces you out of your seat, guiding you with his palm as he keeps his lips locked to yours. You fumble slightly, your eyes fluttering and making you clumsy to your surroundings, but once he pulls you to straddle his lap, you sink comfortably against his chest. 
Your tangled fingers fall apart as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, your arms stretching to curl around his neck as he slides his hands up your side. His fingers tap rhythmically against your ribs, making you curl into him and sigh, but when you feel his hips start to jerk, you tense. 
His palms smooth down until they rest on your hips, the way he pets at your body making a warmth roll over you, and when he pushes down on you until you feel his bulge slide over the crotch of your underwear, you breathe out in surprise. 
“Can’t,” you mumble against his lips, your voice coming out winded and unsure as he guides you to grind against him slowly, “can’t do it here.”
“Why not?” He asks, playful arrogance coating his words, “after you went on about fantasizing about me in this room?” He taunts, using your confession against you, “you shouldn’t have started something you couldn’t finish.”
Jaemin’s ability to go from stoic and shy, to this other being of confidence and shamelessness gave you whiplash, but it also made you melt in his palms. You want to push him away, beg him to take you to your apartment and do whatever he wishes there, but as his fingers grip at the fabric of your skirt and force you to move faster, you can’t imagine having to pry yourself off of him. 
“Don’t want to get caught,” you argue, your body working against your words as you start moving on your own, “someone coul-“
“No one will catch us,” he interrupts, reassuring you as he tilts his head down to kiss down your chin, “we have the room booked for an hour,” he reminds, licking at your jaw, “and it’s better than you letting me fuck you open in the bathroom, yeah?”
Your head falls back at the memories of that night, his tongue smoothing over your throat as you remember how his fingers felt inside you. You bounce more eagerly against him, and when he bites down harshly on your skin, you thread your fingers in his hair and groan. 
You whimper as his greedy fingers brush against the hem of your shirt, his cold skin making you hiss out a swear as they push under the fabric and crawl towards your chest. The first knead against the swell of your flesh is rough, desperate as if he’s dreamed of feeling you under him like this, and when he tugs the cup of your bra away from your body, he immediately pinches your nipple between his knuckles. 
He shoves your shirt up until it bunches under your armpits, the cool air of the room brushing against your partially exposed chest as he ducks down to replace his fingers with his tongue. He laps quickly at your stiffening skin, and when he uses one arm to pull you close again, he wraps his lips around your nipple and bites down. 
You squirm in his hold, pained pleasure spreading across your chest as he abuses your skin with his mouth, and all that fills your ears are your small whimpers and the slick sound of his saliva bouncing against the walls. 
You barely register his free hand tickling down your body, his mouth encapsulating your skin and taking all your attention as he slips his fingers under the hem of your skirt. He gropes mindlessly at your thigh, squeezing roughly at your flesh before he moves to tug at the seam of your underwear. 
You gasp out when his fingers dip into you, his wandering digits slipping to prod at your entrance as he groans against you. You can hear the slick noises of your arousal dripping around his fingers, and when he drags it up to smear it around your clit, your body trembles in his hold. 
“I missed this,” he hums, keeping his lips pouted against your chest as he mumbles without thought, “all I thought about for days, just thinking about how warm you were when I had nothing but my hand.”
You buzz at the thought of him touching himself while thinking of you, the image amplifying how he circles his calloused fingers around your clit. You tilt your hips down to grind against his hand, trying to meet his patterns as you lament not being able to have him sooner. 
You whine when he takes his hand away from your skin, his fingers curling around the seat of your underwear as he pushes it aside, and when you feel the way the denim of his pants brushes against your sensitive skin, your thighs tense around his. 
The sound of him messing with the button of jeans makes you pant in excitement, your fingers pulling roughly at his hair as the metallic sound of his zipper falling open hits your ears. You feel a hunger deep in your belly, a nervous anticipation building in your chest, and when he tugs clumsily at his pants and underwear, it feels like the room around you falls away. 
You feel his length brush against your skin as he pulls himself from the confines of his underwear, the small amount of friction making you both hum and twitch. You glance down as he pushes himself against his stomach, and the size of him wrapped tightly in his fist makes you tilt his head back until your eyes lock together. 
“Please Jaemin I-“ you babble wildly, shifting your body forward until you can grind against the underside of his length, “please, need it.”
“Calm down,” he shushes you, running his hand softly up and down your back as he brings you to press against his chest. 
He handles your body carelessly, moving you how he wishes as he lifts you slightly above him, and when he pushes himself against your entrance, your eyelids flutter. He sinks you down slowly, stretching you open around him, and when your thighs start to shake and broken sighs fall from your mouth, he moves both hands to hold against your sides. 
“Slow down,” he warns as you accidentally shift down, his head tilting so his lips can brush against yours, “don’t hurt yourself.”
You let him pull you down gently, his skin sliding against yours as your arousal drips around him. You feel your body weaken and go lax in his hold as his size overwhelms your senses, and he mumbles soft praises against your lips as his fingers dig into your skin. 
He presses his mouth into yours again once he’s fully seated inside you, the way you clench and shift around him making him smile against your lips, and when he feels the heavy breaths of air that puff from your nose brush his skin, he moves his hand to grab your ass. 
He keeps you still for a moment, reveling in the way your body flutters around him, but when your hips start to jerk as if they have a mind of their own, he grunts in amusement. The way his hands feel against you is more than you could ever imagine, how they brush and dimple your skin makes you feel like he has control over every one of your atoms, and the way he fills you completely makes stars dance behind your eyes. 
Your movements are immediately messy as he moves you to bounce in his lap, his nails scraping at your skin and your legs shaking as you struggle to keep kissing him with the way he fucks you quicker than your fuzzy mind is prepared for. You feel your stomach tensing and your body screaming as he stretches you, but you love every moment you sink down on him with a broken moan. 
He swears crudely against your lips, the way you wrap around him making his hips jump until he’s fucking up into you roughly, and your thighs ache to slam shut as he splits you open perfectly. 
“So perfect,” he moans, his voice strained as he holds you still again, gripping your skin tightly as slams his hips against yours, “take me so well.”
Your head falls against his shoulder as the sound of your skin slapping together rings in your ears. You can feel your arousal start to stick to the inside of your thighs, and with the way he pushes as deeply as possible with every thrust has you crying out and nipping at his neck. 
You huff out when he tightens his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly as the air gets knocked from your lungs, before his tense fingers scrape along the skin of your ass. He scratches against your hip, making the skin burn and rise in his path, until he dips his hand back between your thighs in a rush. 
He presses roughly against your neglected clit, pinching and rolling the skin between his fingers as he continues to thrust against your wildly. He abuses your nerves meanly, toying with you, until he lays his fingers flat against you and starts sliding them against you sloppily. 
A rush of pleasure licks up your spine too quickly for you to handle, your body pushing against his hold as you roll against him. Your hips try to lift away from him, trying to escape his quick fingers, but he holds you tightly and keeps you pressed against his chest as you’re helpless against his touch. 
You clench around him tightly as your orgasm starts to consume you whole, cries of pleasure hitting against the skin of his neck as you sink your teeth into his flesh. He keeps his fingers and hips moving against you, fucking you through the way your nerves feel like they’re on fire, but as you drip and tense around him, he feels himself following close behind you. 
His fingers shake against you, his hips becoming messier as you writhe in pleasure on top of him. He groans and swears loudly as you flutter around him from the overstimulation your body endures, and he only makes it harder when he shifts to fucking you with deeper and slower thrusts, his length dragging and stilling against your sensitive walls as his breathing labors. 
The sound that rattles his chest as he comes makes you delirious, your head lifting like it’s filled with lead as you turn to watch his face screw up tightly. You gasp and pant softly at the feeling of him filling you completely, and watch him with a dazed look as he pushes his hips until they’re flush against you. 
You smile at one another when his eyes open back up, both of your features pulled soft and delirious as you cling to each other. You melt into him as his arms wind around you to pull you into a tight embrace, and for a moment you feel your breathing start to calm as he leans in to brush his nose against yours. 
You don’t think much when his arms tense against you, or the way his thighs continue to shift below you as you scratch your nails against his scalp. You feel warm and sated as you curl around him, but your peace is interrupted as he starts to stand on his wobbling legs. 
You squeak as he lifts you in his arms, your hands falling to grip at his shoulders as he moves you to sit on the edge of the table in front of him, and when he slips out of you, you whine at the sudden emptiness. 
You try to question him, your confusion bubbling at the back of your throat, but it dies on your tongue when he pushes you back. He looks oddly energetic as he watches over you, his fingers moving to dance along the waistband of your skirt as you stare at him with wide eyes. 
“There was one thing I couldn’t stop thinking about after that night,” he starts, his voice gravely and strained as he shakes his head, “and I’m not letting you leave this room until I do it.”
You yelp his name when he grabs your thighs, the way he tugs at your limbs making your head bump against the wood below you as you fall flat, but he ignores your exclamation as his fingers quickly dance back up your skin. 
You squirm when he grabs at your underwear, your thighs trying to slam shut as he tugs the fabric down, but the determination that makes his muscles tense overpowers you as you try to push him away. 
He gets your underwear off with ease, as if the way you kick doesn’t bother him in the slightest, and when you see the still damp cotton twisted around his fingers, you huff in frustration. 
You watch with a pout as he lifts them up with a grin, and when he presses them shamelessly against his face, you let a scandalized shout of his name. 
“You smell amazing, angel,” he compliments sleazily, his words muffled behind the fabric as he makes a show of pressing the damp spot against his septum, “do you think you taste just as lovely?”
He doesn’t present it as a question as much as he does a threat, and when he shoves your underwear deep into his back pocket, you try to push yourself up the table away from him. 
“No you don’t,” he laughs, grabbing your legs before you can get too far, “I know you can handle it.”
You whine when he drops to his knees in front of you, only the top of his head visible as you move to lean on your elbows. You gasp when he tugs you closer to his face, and at the first tap of his tongue against your entrance, your head falls back between your shoulders. 
He keeps your thighs open wide with his tense palms, a wet sound coming from between your legs as he lays his tongue flat against you, and with a shuddering sigh you realize he’s lapping at his come as it drips out of you. 
You clench around his tongue as he pushes it inside of you, the action earning you a deep growl from him that vibrates against your skin, and you wiggle as if you’re possessed from the way he curls his tongue against you. 
He’s messy as he licks at you, his saliva and the new arousal that drips from your spreading to the insides of your thighs and across the lower half of his face. He moans happily against you, holding you tightly against his mouth as he licks you clean, and once he’s gotten every drop of his come from your body, he leans to swipe the flat of his tongue up the length of your cunt. 
You hiss and sob when his lips wrap around your clit, finally being able to see the wild look he holds in his eyes as he sucks at your skin harshly. Your hips cant up roughly, trying to push him off your hypersensitive nerves, but he follows your movements easily as his eyes slide shut in pleasure. 
You sit up quickly as he rolls tongue against you, your hands flying to tug at his hair as your shoulders lift towards your ears and your mouth falls open. Your entire body shivers as pleasure takes over your senses, the heat between your thighs aching painfully as you still aren’t recovered from when he was inside of you, but even with the way you struggle against him, he happily licks at you in hunger. 
Your second orgasm builds too quickly, your feet moving to hit against his shifting shoulders as he lays his tongue flat against you before shaking his head. The sounds he makes below you are vulgar and make your skin hot to the touch, and before you can even think to beg for sympathy, you feel your body start to fall apart at the seams. 
You can’t control the sounds that spill from your lips, mindless words getting lost in the mix of syllables and broken moans as your hips start to roll against his face, and before your mind can come to terms with what he’s doing to you, your orgasm washes over you in violent bursts. 
He laps at you greedily as your hands push at the back of his skull, seemingly glad to be smothered by your body as he loosens his hold until your thighs close around his head. His eyes flutter open again, looking up at you with a look drenched in satisfaction and pride, and all of it combined makes you shudder harshly. 
You both gasp when he finally pulls away, both of you sinking back in relief as he stands back on his feet with a rattling intake of air. His face is slick with your arousal when he leans into you again, but he seems unfazed by his state as he wastes no time before pressing his mouth into yours. 
The taste of both of your orgasms that sticks to his tongue spreads across your taste buds as he licks into your mouth, and the way it invades your senses makes you sigh and twitch. You can feel the wetness on his skin transfer to yours as he kisses you hungrily, but as he pushes his hips between yours and lays his chest flush against you, you can’t find it in yourself to care. 
“You’re so perfect,” he mumbles as he pulls away in apprehension, “I will never forgive myself for acting the way I did and pushing you away.”
“Jaemin,” you huff, kissing across his face as his fingers grab at you as if you’ll slip away, “there’s no point in worrying about that now.”
You both know that’s not true, that whatever is happening between you two will need a deeper discussion, but with how you press against each other in hopes to make up for wasted time, it pushes rationality to the side. 
“I’ll do everything I can to make up for it,” he nods, looking you intensely in the eye, his still remaining desperation buzzing around him, “I’ll do anything you ask me.”
“Really?” You ask, breaking the tension with the playful tone you adopt without thinking, but he hums in agreement eagerly regardless, “then can I have my underwear back?”
“Oh,” he jerks back in shock, pausing to think, “which pair?”
“Both?” You say in suspicion, not liking the guilty look that pulls on his features. 
“Oh that’s not happening.”
2K notes · View notes
sleeping-sirens · 1 year
Text
lips ღ lee jeno
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing : jeno x fem reader (reader is called sweetheart but could also be gn)
genre : soulmate!au (telepathy + matching tattoos + healing bond + mind reading), established relationship, fluff, romance, a bit of angst if you squint.
summary : jeno had come yet again from another one of his underground fights, all bruised and scratched up and reader is so worried about him.
word count : 1944 words.
warnings : mentions of blood, injuries, wounds, kisses, slightly suggestive towards the end.
a/n : i wrote this oneshot back in 2021 :0 so not that proud of it :(
i’m publishing it here mainly for 🍬 anon! thank you for your sweet words and encouragement, hope you like it 😔
masterlist
buy me a coffee 🥹🫶🏼
Tumblr media
Heart racing inside your chest, you're pacing around the room while nervously fiddling with your fingers. A deep sigh leaves your clogged throat, wanting nothing more than to crumble and succumb to your sobs.
Your lips are bruised by now from how much you've been biting on them for the past hour. Your eyes roam around the room feeling lost in a world of your own, fear and worrisome bubbling from the pit of your stomach and crawling up your throat, lining your eyes with tears. You don't want to let your weakness take over you. At least not until he comes back.
The black screen of the TV is matching the sky outside, dark and lonely with only you in the middle, not knowing what to do and how to react. The broadcast has ended long ago, and you're now just waiting impatiently for Jeno to return home.
The clock hanging on the wall behind you seems to tick more slowly than ever, the sound of it resonating in the eerily silent living room, conducting an irregular melody with your staggering breaths accompanied by your crazy heartbeats.
Without noticing, your teeth take your fingers hostage, your nerves weighing down on you and tugging on your heartstrings like it's their last lap in a competitive race with nobody but you. Anxiety clouds your mind with thoughts that refrain you from thinking straight. On top of being worried about him, you're furious at yourself for being in this state while he needs you the most right now.
Taking your head in between your hands, you clasp the sides of your face and shut your eyes, completely messed up and failing at concentrating on what you should do. With many attempts at activating your telepathy connection with Jeno, you fall victim to the trap made only by you.
When you hear faint knocks on the door, you stumble around to open it. Your eyes meet two pairs of eyes already looking at you with pain swirling inside them, anticipating your reaction. In the middle of your frenzied state, you notice the slumped body squished between Doyoung and Jaemin, shoulders dropping as if he has no bones to hold his muscles up and head looking down feebly.
Your arms fly to your soulmate, and you hug him tightly, forgetting about his bruised body, and he lets out a pained wince, causing you to take a step back and open the door wider for his friends to get him inside the house. Pressing your lips together to conceal the sob that wants to leave your body, you heavy-heartedly look at him struggling to walk on his feet.
They gently put him down on the couch, tucking his shivering body under the fuzzy blanket that you had already prepared for him. You saunter to the kitchen and pull a bottle of water from the fridge, returning quickly to the living room before you crouch down in front of him, handing the bottle to him.
Unable to make a move, Jeno only lifts his arm to shield his eyes from the blinding lights assaulting his blurry vision. Concern filling you to the brim, you sigh, lowering your head on the couch, reaching over to hold his hand.
Doyoung nudges Jaemin and they both exchange knowing gazes, silently getting out of the apartment and leaving you two alone.
"My precious boy..." You whisper, getting closer to Jeno's burning body and brushing the blue strands of hair sticking to his forehead from sweat.
"Can you please turn off the lights?" He croaks out gruffly, voice hoarse and weak from the lack of energy in his body.
You immediately oblige and run back to him, only having the side lamp as a source of light. You hesitantly push his arm away from his eyes so that you can see his face. His eyes gently open to focus on you, but in vain, your face still looks blurry to him. Jeno throws his head back with a groan, doubling his efforts to sit up straight on the couch.
"Come here," He welcomes you to his stretched arms and you carefully join him, cocooning yourself in his warm embrace.
"I'm sorry I couldn't keep you company on your way back," You shyly admit. "I couldn't bring myself to concentrate."
"It's okay, sweetheart." Jeno winces in pain when he wraps his arms around you and you worriedly look up at him.
You can clearly see his face now. Bloody scratches are littering his entire face, some cuts too deep with dried blood circling them, and some still fresh and glistening with crimson. The corner of his left eye is turning blue as your eyes travel all over his face, and when your vision settles down, you see the corner of his lips bruised and damaged badly than the other parts of his face.
Sensing you looking at him, Jeno glances down at you and tries his hardest to smile at you without triggering his wounds, but he fails badly, which causes him to groan and hiss at how painful his injuries are. Your fingers hesitantly fly up to his lips, gently skimming over the dried blood, and he closes his eyes, concentrating on your healing touch.
Your senses perk up and you close your eyes to activate the healing bond between you and your soulmate, scooting your body as close to his as possible, uniting your emotions and thoughts and making your souls feel like one.
Jeno hums in contentment, feeling the bond gradually getting to every injury and bruise in his body, sucking in the warmth you're spreading all over him and healing him in more ways than one. He's feeling grateful to have you by his side when he needs you the most, and he wants you to know just that.
"I'm sorry," He suddenly says, leaning his head on top of yours that's resting on his shoulders, and caressing your side with the gentle tips of his fingers.
You heavily sigh, not wanting to break weak in front of him again. Not because he hates it or because you feel ashamed, but this isn't the first time he's come home all scratched up and you have to heal him.
You're always worrying about him during and after each fight.
You have made your opinion about him doing underground fighting clearer than the gleaming linings of the moon that you both have as a soulmate symbol on your wrists, glowing upon your skins and defining you, and bonding you in the universe until the end of times.
The last thing you both want is to upset the other and as much as he knows how much you don't like what he's doing, he can't stop it, and you can't force him to. At first, it was hard to accept it and you guys have had countless fights over this, but as your bond grew strong, your love grew unconditional that you just couldn't let anything separate you.
You're not ready for such heartbreak.
"You don't have to apologize every time you come home after a fight."
"Yes, but-"
"No buts please," you silence him gently. "I'm not mad at you and I will never get mad at you, baby."
"But you're worried now." He insists.
"I'm not." You avoid his eyes.
Jeno bites his lower lips before gliding his tongue across the surface, placing his index and middle finger under your chin to lift your head up. He anchors his piercingly soft gaze on you and you can't help but maintain the eye contact with him, heat slowly bubbling inside your tummy and traveling up your body to reach your face, tinting your cheeks with a rosy blush.
"Don't lie to me," He whispers, leaning his face closer to yours until you're a breath away from each other. You unconsciously part your lips and close your eyes, enjoying his heavy and warm closeness. “I can read your mind."
"I know," you breathe out. "But I also want you to know that I'm not mad and I will never be mad at you for choosing to do something you love. Yes, I get worried, sometimes I feel like my heart will burst out of my chest when I'm watching your fights broadcasts, but I will never force you to stop."
Jeno keeps looking at you with glistening eyes, admiring your supportive words of encouragement and falling deeper and more in love with you than he has ever been. The feelings thumping through his heart with every beat strengthen the soulmate bond, making your own heart speed up its race and causing your breath to hitch inside your throat.
The fingers caressing your chin travel up your face, delivering feather-like touches that leave your skin burning with a new fiery glaze that naturally pulls your body closer to him.
His thumb runs down the side of your face before settling down on your bottom lip, anticipation building up inside of you with every passing second and as Jeno grazes the pad of his finger over your bottom lip, you let out a hitched breath before gaining control over the situation and pulling away from him.
"I really want to kiss you right now," Jeno admits, looking deeply into your eyes and not planning to look anywhere else but at you.
"Your lip is bruised," you reply with a concern-filled voice, and Jeno shakes his head at that.
"Kiss me to make it better." He brushes his nose with yours and slides his arm up from your waist to secure it on the back of your neck. "It'll speed up the healing process."
Before you get the chance to refuse, Jeno's lips softly lay on top of yours. At this moment, nothing matters as you let yourself free fall in love with the softness of his cushion-like lips.
At first, he starts slowly, making sure not to get ahead of himself and feel the pain of the cuts lining his lips. He delivers small kisses, guiding you slowly until you fall into a rhythmic momentum and you both relish in the melodious harmony blooming from within your bond.
Little by little, you both start to feel greedy. It's like your lips have a mind of their own, guiding your bodies even closer together. You place your palms on his chest, the crazy beats of his heart speaking to you from under his skin-tight black shirt.
His staccato breaths send your mind into overdrive and you mindlessly let out a satisfied hum, igniting a fire inside of him he doesn't think he can control. Having you under his arms, with your lips molding against his and your heated body clinging onto his is only encouraging him to push you back on the sofa, landing gently on top of you.
The closeness between you two is helping his body heal faster than he expected. With gentle yet deep kisses, Jeno gets all the energy he needs and you're there to give it all to him.
"I love you." He whispers in between kisses. "So, so much."
Nobody says that love is easy, but when it's with the right person, it exceeds all the boundaries and restrictions and conquers it all.
And as Jeno pulls away from your lips, eyes closed, chest heaving and face heated, you glance up at him with astonishment and appreciation because if he weren't your soulmate, you'd break all the rules just to find him and love him again and again.
"Now that I've secured yet another win," he starts, smiling gently yet sinfully. "Let's celebrate, our own way."
Tumblr media
380 notes · View notes
doycngs · 2 years
Text
bet! | lee jeno.
Tumblr media
summary. it was bound to bite both your asses eventually. just plain ‘ol comedic luck that you and your best friend’s shared tradition of petty bets get you two to finally cough up years of repressed feelings for one another. 
pairing. y/n x nct’s jeno
genre. college!au, best friends to lovers!au
word count. 17k
warnings. swearing, fem!reader, underage drinking, emotional constipation lmao, hyuck and yeri hustle often, general dreamies tomfoolery, hyuck and nana are like dumb and dumber, honestly just super chaotic since it’s slice of life :)
taglist. @donutswithjaminthemiddle @dvickyyy @jenosbliss @matryoooshka @luvenshiti @nap-of-a-starr @dojun00 @nctdom @yangsbff @bockhyun
i feel like i did a pretty bad job rounding this fic up, my bad… still hope this lives up to the hype from the teaser! to those tagged, many hugs and kisses!! tysm for the interest <3
also biggest thank you to yunn aka @kdyism for being my beta reader and just being super helpful on absolutely everything for this fic! it def got finished faster bc of ya, much love bun :3
Tumblr media
“WAS HE DROPPED on the head when he was a kid?” 
You can’t help the snort that passes your lips, making a satisfying slap to Jeno’s arm. “Don’t be mean.” 
“You didn’t answer my question.” Jeno raises an eyebrow.
“Eh… maybe like once or twice. Not that I would know, I was the same age as him but I’m just guessing.” 
You two continue to watch the disaster in front of you befold. Hyuck was currently bothering Yeri. Apparently, he didn’t know the limits as to when to stop because the older senior’s ears are burning red. You’re sure if you were in a cartoon right now, Yeri would have smoke coming out of them, nostrils flaring. 
“Should we intervene?” You side-eye Jeno and he’s the least bit concerned, eyes blearily watching the soon-to-be wreck happen in slow motion, cheek squished against his palm. 
“Nah. This is way more entertaining than continuing my stats homework.” 
You peer over his notebook and he has the word problem and equation written down. Humming, you bring your attention back to the stars of the show and see Yeri grip her notebook tighter, knuckles going white. 
“Here we go.” You sing, Hyuck’s screams of protest soon alerting everyone in the campus plaza of his pain. 
“He never learns his lesson, huh?” Renjun finally joins, his boots making the fall leaves on the ground crunch. Throwing his book bag on the table, it scrunches Jeno’s current page in his statistics work but the latter doesn’t care. 
The two of you nod simultaneously. You and Jeno halfheartedly discouraged Hyuck from going to poke at Yeri around five minutes ago, soon after the three of you had sat down at your usual spot under the only weeping willow tree on campus. It was honestly impressive how quickly your mutual friend could annoy someone so quickly. 
“We should time him next. See how long it takes for Yeri to lash out at him.” You mutter the idea, Jeno pursing his lips after the two shift left and right around Yeri and company’s picnic table, a textbook held high in Yeri’s nimble fingers. Wendy and Seulgi are ducking as Irene begins trying to stop the madness, scolding Joy for cheering on their youngest.
“Not a bad idea to be honest. Bet?” Jeno grins and you shake on his hand without looking at him. 
“Bet.”
It was just getting good. Hyuck doesn’t have the endurance to continue but Yeri does. Pilates has done her well. 
Renjun quirks an eyebrow, pulling out his laptop as an apple slice is shoved into the corner of his mouth. “You don’t even know the conditions of the bet yet.” 
You shrug, thoroughly entertained as Hyuck sits on his knees, his hands rubbing together furiously as he begs for mercy. “Next time, he gets Yeri to go after him in under two minutes.” 
“I say three.” Jeno nods and he offers a hand again which you shake. 
“You underestimate that little lady’s body. She can hold a lot of anger.” 
Jeno hums in response, ending the conversation quickly as Hyuck stumbles his way over, a pout sat on his lips. The well-beaten idiot rubs at his forearms, mumbling curses under his breath as he plops down beside Renjun. 
“Didn’t end well, did it bud?”
At the smug expression you have plastered on, Hyuck’s pout deepens. “It’s not funny. I need her to partner with me in Psych. I’ll go fucking crazy if I actually have to work with Felix.” 
“Felix’s a sweetheart. I don’t know why you have it out for him.” 
Hyuck rolls his eyes, running his hands through the ruffled brown strands. Yeri managed to grab a bunch of pine needles and aim correctly enough, even with the air resistance the leaves have. 
Renjun beside him plucks a long green one out the battered boy who’s seated beside him, slouched over on the picnic table. “You can’t have two eggheads who don’t pay attention in class paired together. Isn’t that so, Hyuck?” Renjun baby-voices, the latter placing his chin on his stacked wrists to glare. 
“Somebody’s cranky.” Chenle swings by, a childish smirk gracing everybody’s presence. 
“It’s justified.” Hyuck huffs, turning away from the new arrival. You scoot over, bumping into Jeno’s large body to allow Chenle to sit. 
“Why are you so meaty nowadays? Take a break from the gym, will you? We can barely fit eight people at this table as it is.” There’s playful malice in your voice but a little truth in there. The asshole was getting too bulky for your liking. 
“Oh please. Mark hardly swings by for lunch with us anymore. And why by chance are you bothered by me bulking up?” Jeno leans closer, eyes impossibly close to yours, “Are you swooning yet?” 
Ignoring your heart racing faster, you slap a palm to his forehead, pushing Jeno further away from your face. “No, I’m sick of these freshies asking me for your number, that’s why. You want to know how many have asked for your digits indirectly through me this entire week?” 
Chenle and Renjun have suddenly started bickering about something and you have to raise your voice a little. 
“Five. Five people. Four girls and one guy. I’d be proud of you if it weren’t for the annoyance starting to kick in.” Jeno raises his eyebrows at the number, finally flattening down his stats paper. 
“And what’d you tell ‘em?” Jeno bites distractedly at the cap of his pen, seeming to hit the realization his work has to get done by midnight. 
“That they should ask you themselves,” You’re rolling your eyes, nudging at Chenle to back off on his squishing, practically half his body across the table to try and snatch at Renjun’s sliced apples, “I’m kind of sick of your posse trying to scour me for your personal information.” 
“Get your own, dingus! We get our rations per month at the commons!”
“I’m not giving up a precious coupon just to get one apple slice, come on!” 
“Tell them to stop then.” Jeno tries to solve.
You laugh incredulously, watching Jeno’s concentrated (confused more like) side profile. “You think that deters them? They regenerate into different people every week. The message is not passed on from generation to generation apparently.” 
Jeno makes that endearing ‘huH?’ sound and you grab at the notebook yourself, having taken Statistics 101 before. He thanks you under his breath, which you nod at before Jeno slumps onto your shoulder, sighing heavily. 
“Sorry. I know it bothers you. I would go around and tell them to back off of you and me personally but I don’t know all their names.”
Glancing at Jeno, it irritates you helplessly that you know he’s not even trying to sound dickish. He’s just that sweet and kind of a guy that makes other people not want to talk to him and ask those types of questions themselves. You know those people that seem too perfect to want to approach? Yeah, that’s Lee Jeno in a nutshell. If you looked up the definition of that type of person in a book, Jeno would be grinning that Samoyed smile of his from on that cursed page. 
“I should tape a sign to my back that says, ‘Ask Lee Jeno himself. I’m not his personal owl,’” You peek at his face, “What do you think?” 
He slightly smiles, eyes crinkling almost shut even at such a small gesture of amusement. “Okay. I’ll add my signature to it so that they know it’s approved by yours truly.” He looks up to your face and you’re glad the cold can disguise your flustered face easily with this type of weather. 
Guess it’s time to actually settle this officially since it’s been clued at a little, but yes: You do have a crush on Jeno. And no, he does not know because when does telling one of your best friends’ that you’ve been crushing on them ever worked out? 
No, not in the Wattpad story kind of way, you mean truly worked out. Because personally, you’ve never heard of it working out ever, especially since you’re practically in the you’ve-seen-him-in-his-boxers and he’s-seen-you-shirtless stage of friendship. Don’t ask, it’s a long story that’s already too long for this kind of boring read. 
So, no, you will not take your chances, thank you very much. There were many signs flashing neon that told you Jeno didn’t see you in a romantic or sexual kind of way but the glaringly obvious sign was actually the one you two are discussing currently. 
What’s the appropriate way of acting if your crush is being berated by other peers on campus to give them your number? You’re not confident in what it actually looks like because for one, you’re not on the receiving end in this imaginary scenario, and two, it’s exactly that; an imaginary scenario. You can’t even seriously dream of Jeno liking you if you could. It was just that bizarre. 
In the two years you've known the boy, he’s never even once mentioned another human being that he could potentially be interested in on campus. It’s not a problem of him not being comfortable telling you either because he’s told you upright that he’s not interested in anybody here (including you who’s enrolled in this stupid university). You’ve even nonchalantly asked Jaemin before and he’s confirmed that even in high school, this kid did not have wandering eyes. 
You had wondered if Jeno was asexual, aromantic, or something along that line in the spectrum, eventually having the courage to ask him one day and he shook his head no quite confidently, a small smile laid on his lips. 
You don't know what Jeno's deal was but the risks in finding out really didn’t lean in your favor. And that’s fine, considering how many fish are available on Earth's wide sea of potential mates. You’ve killed off even the chance of dating Jeno and that’s all good in your book. You’ve been attracted to your guy friends once and twice and they faded away with time exploring their weird quirks or horrible habits. And even if Jeno was a strange case where you’ve even seen the dude have beer dripping from his nostrils from a shitty keg stand and you still manage to harbor feelings for him… eh. 
Time brushes away a lot of problems if you’re desperate and willing enough. Luckily for you, you checked off both boxes easily with this special instance. 
You open your laptop and scour your documents for your old stats notes on chi-square tests. Bleh.
Pretending to gag in your mouth at the sight, Jeno smothers a laugh that shakes your shoulder and you share the document his way before scrolling and finding the right topic. You do the problem with few difficulties and write a quick message in the corner of his notebook page. 
‘Actually study this because Y/N did the example and took time from her day to do so, thank you.’
“Thanks,” Jeno chirps as he takes his notebook back, removing himself from your shoulder (to your well-hidden disappointment), “I owe you one.” 
“You’re right. A coffee works just fine, thank you.” You pipe back, folding your hands on the table cheerily. Jeno is shaking his head in mock annoyance but you knew the next time you two meet, you would not be disheartened, a warm cup pressed in hand. 
“A four-dollar coffee is worth one solved problem in your book?” Jeno argues. 
You fire back without hesitation. “It’s statistics. And I just sent two semesters’ worth of notes to you. You’re very welcome.” 
“You’re right,” Jeno turns, stowing his notebook away, “That’s like seven coffees then.” 
“And a scone if you’re feeling nice. A croissant works too.” You beam. 
“Now you’re pushing it. Those things are stupidly overpriced.” 
“Even for me?” You playfully place your chin in your cupped hands, blinking slowly and looking through your lashes. 
Jeno sighs, placing a hand on your head of hair. “Fine. You win, you spoiled princess.” 
In times like these, you knew you really asked to be put in these types of situations. And you’re not one to start being a saint and stop being hypocritical but… you deserved what you were putting yourself through, saying these types of things and teasing like this. Trying to get a stir and playact with being more. 
Maybe it was a little cruel, somewhat tricking Jeno into saying sweet things to you, just to let your mind wander for a second. Call it… taking advantage of his friendship to pretend a little. Harmless but still adds into your ledger of sins for Judgment Day right? 
“Why are Jisung and Jaemin taking so long? I’m running out of apples.” Renjun whines, looking at the bag that’s been emptied. You’re almost one hundred percent sure it was the two other hungry animals sitting at this table and you weren’t even listening to their argument earlier. 
“They’re carrying seven people’s worth of food. I think that warrants a little patience.” 
“I wouldn’t be nearly upset if these two idiots didn’t steal my apples.” Renjun spits out, glaring. The two culprits wholly ignore the oldest. 
A whole two minutes later, Jaemin and Jisung arrive, lugging four plastic bags of takeout. Jisung’s thin arms are shaking with the effort to hold them, Hyuck getting up to relieve him. 
“Wah, took you two long enough. Thanks for losing the bet last week.” Chenle slaps a hand to Jisung’s heaving back. 
“We just walked… half a mile carrying all this.” Jisung breathlessly collapses beside Hyuck, bent over with his hands on his knees. 
“Why didn’t you take Jaemin’s car?” Jeno mumbles around his hamburger. 
Jaemin laughs, out of breath as well. “I left my fucking car at Yangyang’s from Friday. I didn’t even remember until today because I can walk to my Monday classes.” 
“What the fuck did you do without a car on the weekend?” Hyuck wonders, chipmunk cheeks stuffed full of fries. 
Jaemin makes a suggestive face and everybody recoils, not willing to be curious anymore. The culprit laughs airily. “Why are you all assuming bad things right now?” 
“You didn’t go crawling back to Eunji or something, right?” Hyuck squints, “Because I saw you talking to her that night and that would be pathetic to hear about right now—”
“No, I’m not that kind of asshole—”
“At least you can acknowledge you are one…” Jisung comments under his breath. 
“I simply asked her how she was doing. It was completely innocent,” Nana’s wide bunny eyes scan the table, “Really! I conked out in Hendery's room after the party.” 
“And just so happened to leave your car at Yang’s which is directly across from Eunji’s dorm—” Hyuck continues before Jaemin cuts him off with a scoff. 
“Again. Not that kind of an asshole. Besides, if you had looked closer Hyuck, we were civil Friday night. I doubt she would ever let me get near her that way again… except for maybe with a baseball bat.” 
The table stifles laughs at that, chowing down the food. Everyone murmurs a quick thanks halfway through every food item getting demolished.
“Can you even afford this Jisung?” You mention on second thought, considering the younger boy sat diagonally from you.
“Jaemin owed me too so he paid for everything.” 
“Man, you just rack them up, don’t you?” Jeno pityingly looks over to his best friend at the end of the table. 
He shrugs, not all that bothered. “I’ll eventually learn my lesson, right?” 
“Not if you keep agreeing to our daily bets, stupid.” Chenle quips past his tenders, shoulders shaking in mirth. 
“That’s true. You walk right into them when we bring it up.” Renjun supports. 
“You should be glad you’re never around to accept Ten’s though. I like to think you would fall for them easily.” You crunch at Chenle’s fries, the younger boy not noticing your swiping. 
“What do his bets look like?” 
“Skinny dipping. Egging houses. And occasionally, seven minutes in heaven.” Jisung answers for you, which you backtrack at. In fact, everybody does. 
Hyuck blinks owlishly at him. “What?” 
“How do you know these things, kid? Spill.” You threaten with a long fry of Chenle’s, the soggy potato cut flopping as time goes by. 
“You’ve never seen me at Ten’s?” Jisung spills. Everyone gapes. 
“Why the fuck would we see you at Ten’s!?” Hyuck laughs in disbelief, hilarity at the situation peeking at the twinkle in his eyes. 
“Yeah, what the heck? Why am I never invited?” Chenle sulks.
Jeno scoffs. “Because you two are freshmen, that’s why.”
“What are you, fucking Casper the ghost in the corner? How come we’ve never seen you?” Nana is skeptical as well, the only one upset that his baby freshie has managed to sneak into an upperclassmen party. 
“Johnny invites me sometimes. When he remembers.” Jisung shrinks at all the attention, nervous with the sudden interrogation. 
“Johnny is a bad influence,” Jaemin argues with a fold of his arms. 
“Like you’re any better, Nana.” You laugh, bringing an arm around Jaemin to offer comfort. You don’t see Jeno shift at the contact. 
“And you don’t take part in the bets, do you?” Renjun implores before he shakes his head, “Wait, no, I definitely would have heard of Jisung having seven minutes in heaven with someone.”
“Oh, no. I’m not insane,” Jisung shivers at the thought. “It’s fun to watch Taeil go crazy though.” 
Hyuck slaps a hand to Jisung’s back, the latter wincing at the battering his body is taking today. “Welcome to the real deal, man! My god, why did I not know you came to upperclassmen parties? You sneak in sometimes?” 
“What? No! Do I look even close to a sophomore to you?” Jisung looks to make a point, gesturing towards himself. “There’s your answer.” 
“I think Johnny favors you then. He has a soft heart for freshies, who knew?”
“Where is my invite then?” Chenle whines, still sulking. 
“I’ll take you as my plus one.” Jisung placates his best friend with that and he continues to happily chew on his cheeseburger. 
“When’s his next one? Oh, I can’t wait to see how Jisung acts wasted.” Hyuck wiggles in his seat, giggling like a happy toddler. 
“Oh no, not on my watch. Baby Jisungie is not getting wasted at any party, ever.” Jaemin acts tough, glaring at the youngest of the group. 
“Oh, please Grandpa. You didn’t even realize I was present at these until I just told everyone.” 
Nana bursts at that, screeching a scolding noise that startles a pair of girls walking by. “Because I never even expected you to be at one! That’s why!” 
Jaemin looks to you, eyes wide. “My baby chick. At an upperclassmen party.” 
Giggling, you push at his jaw to turn his gaze towards Jisung again. “Jisung’s got a fair point. Who are you to stop him?” 
“I never get wasted anyway. I just come to watch the chaos.” Jisung grins, munching on his chicken tenders like Chenle. As you watch longer, you understand why Nana babies the youngest so much. He’s cute in moderation and it looks easy to want to mother him. 
“Whatever,” Nana grumbles, “Guess I have to watch out at parties and babysit now.” 
“Oh, please don’t.” Jisung’s face scrunches up.
“This Saturday. You coming, Jisung?” Hyuck grills, pocketing his phone which you didn’t even realize he pulled out to text presumably Johnny or Ten. 
“I guess… if Johnny asks me.” Jisung drags out, glancing at Hyuck. 
“This sounds like a disaster now that everybody knows.” Renjun leans across to whisper to you and Jeno. 
“You two should come to watch the shitshow with me,” You grin, wiggling your eyebrows, “I know you two usually don’t come but sometimes they can be fun.” 
“I don’t wanna drink to have fun.” Renjun wrinkles his nose at that. 
Waving a hand at that, you offer a tip, “Just fill your cup with a liquid. Nobody is sober enough to check you like a cop.” 
Jeno hums at that, Renjun saying that he’ll think about it. Hyuck pockets his phone once again, having pulled it out to ask about Jisung.
“You got the go-ahead, dude. Ready to party with the big boys?” Hyuck wrestles Jisung’s long neck into the crook of his elbow as the younger boy cringes. 
“I don’t know about that but…” 
Jaemin stands up dramatically, slapping both hands on the table. Your cup of soda spills a little when it knocks over, Jeno cursing as the two of you rush to correct the drink’s position. 
“Oh, not on my watch, you won’t!”
The table is quiet, absorbing Nana’s usual dramatics. 
Chenle raises his hand a little. “I’m going too, right?” 
|—————|
It took a little more convincing for Renjun to come. You and Jeno usually like to watch havoc together, pure rapture and popcorn shared between you two. You seriously considered bringing the movie snack to the party but in the end, was unconvinced by the others. Using the microwave at a frat party didn’t seem so smart, especially if your attention dragged away and someone nagged the bag from the microwave before you could notice. Would just be a waste of popcorn. 
Jeno and Renjun swing by your dorm building, waiting outside in the cold for a minute or so before you pop out. 
You shiver, pulling at your black jean jacket. “How many more layers do I have to put on to not be cold?” 
Renjun shakes his head, observing your legs. “You’re wearing thin ass tights, Y/N, what were you expecting?” 
Teeth chattering, the three of you begin to walk to the 127 house. “Jokes on you, I’m wearing leggings underneath. These are fake tights with fleece in them.” 
“Why are you so cold all the time? Is your body just that weak?” Jeno genuinely queries, your black skirt flying a little too high with the current wind for his comfort. He slows to walk behind you, conscious of the nonexistent people on the deserted streets looking.
“Yeah, you’re actually shaking. Do you wanna turn back to change?” Renjun offers kindly and you shake your head, committed. 
“I look cute right now. Fashion sacrifices, am I right?” You grin impishly, eyeing your company’s outfits. 
Following your act of observing everybody’s clothing choices for tonight, Renjun laughs at all three of your different fashion senses. “We look ridiculous walking together right now.” 
Jeno peeps up from the back of the two of you leading the way. “How? I think we look fine.” 
You hum in agreement. “We look like college students going to a party.” 
A bark of laughter escapes Renjun’s mouth, tugging at Jeno’s jacket zipper. “Yeah, three different parties. Jeno looks like he’s about to rob a store. Y/N looks like a grunge girl and I look like I’m heading to the fucking library.” 
He’s not that wrong. Jeno’s wearing all black, cargo pants, tee, chunky boots, and zip-up hiding his good figure in the darkness of his clothes. A navy blue cardigan covers Renjun, wearing similar beat-up Converse to you, with a white tee and light blue jeans. Looking down at your own outfit, you pluck a piece of lint off your gray sweater. 
“But we all look great. Killing the fashion game. Fabulous.” You strut forward with confidence, the other two amused at your antics. 
The 127 frat house lays ahead and you speed up to get out of the cold. Mark greets you with a hug and shout of happiness. You can smell the alcohol reeking his breath and the entire vicinity already. The floor bumps beneath your feet, everyone else in the building bobbing their head to the beat. 
“Hi, Y/N! Oh shit, what?” Mark calls out to Jeno and Renjun, dapping them up as his Solo cup dangerously leers to the left. You hurriedly correct it in his hold, not willing to get beer stains on your nice clothes this early into the night. 
“What the fuck are you two doing here?” Mark shouts down to you, a dopey grin implanted on his expression, “You convinced them to come for once?!” 
“I know, right? It’s a rare occasion tonight!” You yell back, a contagious smile growing on you at Mark’s infectious mood. 
Jeno leans closer to break your close proximity to Mark, “Hyuck is gonna get Jisung to let loose. Seems like a good disaster to watch unfold.” 
Mark shakes his head fondly at that, grabbing a hold of Renjun’s shoulder and leading all three of you into the kitchen. It’s crowded with humid heat, too many bodies in one room for comfort. 
“Grab a drink and toss any cups just laying around, please. I gotta get back to door duty but have fun!” Mark sings, planting a brave wet kiss to your forehead in goodbye before he’s off, shoving to the front of the house again. 
You wipe at your forehead, deciding to make fun of sober Mark for this innocent kiss later. Jeno bristles at the sight, grabbing three red cups and pulling out the unopened liter of Coca-Cola in the back of the line of sodas. 
Renjun holds the three cups gladly, there being no counter space to easily maneuver for pouring, before passing on the beverage to you. You press your cup to the ice machine and grimace as no ice chunks come flying into your cup. 
“Lukewarm Coke it is.” You toast the other three, clinking your Solo cups together before sipping. Getting out of the small kitchen, your eyes scan the crowd. 
“See Jisung, Chen, or Hyuck anywhere?” Renjun queries, yelling over the thumping bass. You climb onto the step bar of a stool someone’s currently sitting on, placing a hand on Jeno’s shoulder for support. The height lets you look over the big jumble of people in the large living room, not noticing any familiar heads.
“I see Jungwoo. Maybe he knows.” Jeno calls out, before stepping into the mass of moving bodies. He abandons the two of you for a total of thirty seconds before dragging not one, but two of the 127 boys over. 
Doyoung gives a quick side hug, shoving at Jungwoo who comes to lift you off your feet. You make an impact sound at the tall puppy’s strength, patting at his arm to let you down. 
Jungwoo’s blonde head of hair is all mussed up and you brush at the strands, laughing. “How much have you had to drink already?” 
“A good, healthy amount! I’m on water for the rest of the night!” Jungwoo happily confesses with a thumbs up, all his perfect white teeth on display. 
“You two know where Hyuck is?” Renjun bellows. 
Jeno adds on, “Or Jisung! We’re here for them!” 
Doyoung makes a pulled face at that, Jungwoo bending over in laughter. “What!? Jisung is here?” 
The younger of the two frat boys begin darting over the crowd, trying to locate the tall beanstalk. 
“What would Jisung be doing here?” Doyoung is puzzled, a little concern crawling into his expression. 
“Apparently all Johnny’s doing. Or Hyuck’s, we don’t know at this point.” Jeno shrugs. 
“We’re here for the shitshow to commence!” You revealed a little too happily, Doyoung making a forced smile. 
“I don’t know anything about this. Johnny’s DJing right now! You can go ask him though.” He points to the far back of the living room. The black-haired senior is head bobbing to the music, a set of headphones half on his head as he waves his gigantic arms around. 
You giggle nervously at the obstacle between you and reaching him. “Oh hell no,” You push at Jeno’s arm, “This tough guy is going to go ask for us.” 
Doyoung cradles his favorite underclassman by the neck and joins him in his journey to the front. Jungwoo’s a little ways away, dancing wildly. Renjun laughs at the sight, bringing your attention to the silly junior. 
“I dare you to join him.” You challenge playfully, and Renjun shakes his head adamantly. 
“Fuck no! You think I dance at these parties?!” 
“If you have alcohol in you, anyone can dance!” You try to convince Renjun, pulling his lips down. 
“Good thing I’m not drinking tonight then!” 
Jungwoo gets swept out into the dance floor again, not allowing the three of you to converse more before Jaemin joins the two of you out of seemingly nowhere. He cheers at the sight, ruffling Renjun’s well-styled hair, much to the older boy’s disappointment. 
Jaemin grasps at your opposite shoulder, leaning on your head to heave some of his dead weight. 
You nudge his side, Nana yelping at the contact. “You know where Jisung is?” 
Nana widens his eyes at your question, suddenly remembering his self-proposed babysitting job. 
“Oh shit! I forgot! Where is that idiot?” Jaemin gasps, helplessly looking around. 
“Trust me, we’ve been trying to navigate this mess for ten minutes since we’ve arrived. Just wait here with us!” Renjun pulls at Jaemin’s belt loop, yanking the same-birth-year boy back into your talking circle. 
Jeno arrives a minute later, lugging a slouching Jisung on his back. Hyuck is laughing his ass off, pushing the hair off of Jisung’s forehead to catch the youngest’s drunk face better. 
Jeno practically throws Jisung on the now-available stool this stranger just gave up, blowing out a breath of relief. “This kid is way heavier than he looks!” Jeno complains.
Hyuck is still dying of laughter and you and Renjun can’t help but follow in line as Jisung groans, pulling at Jeno’s waist to cuddle him. The latter is halfway between uncomfortable and endeared at Jisung’s affectionate behavior, who’s mumbling nonsense. 
“Jesus, why did he drink so much?” Jaemin worries, patting his baby chick’s head. 
“Dude, I didn’t even need to say anything! Chenle is the bad influence here, not me!” Hyuck throws his hands up at Nana’s deadly glare. As if on cue, the second youngest of your friend group gathers everybody’s attention in the crowd, pulling 127 boy Jaehyun on the table he’s standing on to make a speech. 
“There’s no damn way…” You whistle at the sight, Jaehyun patting the underclass man in pride. 
Jisung mumbles something into Jeno’s stomach and the older boy leans down to hear him better.
“Hm… w-wanna go… home…” Jisung hiccups, eyes barely open and Jeno nods.
“I better bring this idiot home. I’ll probably have to sneak his dumb ass past the RA, I’ll be right back.” Jeno grunts as he wraps Jisung’s long arms around his neck, practically carrying the beanstalk like a backpack. 
“It’s okay, I’ll do it!” Nana rushes to switch off with Jisung’s dead weight. He groans, looking to Jeno with a grimace. “Ugh, you were right. He is a lot heavier than he looks.” 
“Are you sure? I can help?” Jeno halfheartedly makes sure, to which Jaemin nods resolutely. 
“I need some fresh air anyways, been here too long!”
“Do you want me to go with you?” You offer, only because you knew sneaking around the RA would manage to get rowdy with just the two of them alone. 
“Nah, it’s okay. I better have a drink after getting back from this though.” Nana jokes and you shove the pair towards the door. 
Jeno stuffs his hands into his pockets, low-key relieved that he doesn’t have to go back into the cold night. He had just gotten here and despite how disgusting it was thinking about how much heat was being produced, it was better than freezing outside. 
“There’s our entertainment for the night.” Renjun lifts his cup in salute. 
Hyuck nudges everyone to watch Chenle though, who wants to crowd surf but fails to, nobody willing to hold him up. Everyone starts cackling at the sight, peers practically making space so that Chenle won’t be convinced to just commit and dive onto them. 
“Up for a game of beer pong, anyone? I’ve been trying to play all night!” Hyuck hooks around the boys, dragging everyone over to the foyer where two tables were set up. Tons of spills made you almost slip and split your head open. Thankfully Jeno is like a solid wall behind you, not fazed by your clumsiness. 
He gets close behind you, hands still on your waist and breath tickling your ear as Hyuck and Renjun take the other end of the pong table. “Wanna bet Mark comes in for a celebrity shot later?” 
You laugh nervously, getting hot under his hold and turning to look at Jeno’s expression. “That is oddly specific. How are you so confident?” 
Looking over to Mark, he’s chatting with Mina and completely distracted from answering the door now. You’re sure that Johnny, the brother he’s been shadowing in the frat, would not be happy with Mark ignoring his job. Or maybe he would, knowing Mark was actually shooting his shot with a girl.
“I don’t wanna tell you why. Then you won’t agree.” Jeno argues, finally getting his hands off you to roll up his sleeves. You slightly roll your eyes at his words, trying to subtly look at the veins in Jeno’s hands' flex. 
“I think he’ll come in later too. But I say it’ll be for us. Not for Hyuck or Renjun.” 
Jeno makes a tutting sound, collecting the empty cups on your side and making the triangular shape. “You’re trying to sell me out here, no way. You’re just gonna convince Mark to come over by…”
Your eyebrows lift. “By what exactly?” 
Jeno shakes his head, a small smile sat on his face. You poke at his side, curious. “By what? Now you’ve intrigued me!” 
“Whatever. I’ll make a better bet,” Jeno nabs Renjun’s missed shot, to which Hyuck whines, “Mark is gonna ask you out tonight.” 
Sputtering on the soda you’ve been sipping on, you watch Jeno whip his ping pong ball like straight butter into your opponents’ cup. The other side’s loud protests distract him from your obvious gaping, confused at the sudden thought of Mark liking you.
Jeno eventually eyes your expression, making a weird face. “What?” 
“What? What do you mean, what? Are you insinuating Mark likes me?!” You angrily whisper, afraid that somehow the person you two were talking about would hear over the loud music flowing throughout the house. 
“Why are you so surprised? It’s very obvious! At least in my eyes.” Jeno shrugs. The ping pong from Hyuck hits your stomach, confusing him. You grab at it, just tossing it without a care. The ball whooshes in and you don’t notice, still frazzled. 
“You’re joking, right? This is a sick joke of yours?” Peering over at Jeno, he scoffs. 
“No. Don’t tell him I said this but when we first introduced you to him, he said you were pretty.” The deadpan way Jeno utters this makes your eyes squint. 
“That seems like an innocent compliment to me.” (News flash, you’re denying reality here.) 
Jeno lifts a dark eyebrow at that. “When has Mark Lee ever gone out of his way to intentionally compliment a girl?” 
You scrunch your nose at that, rubbing at the kiss he planted on your head earlier. “This changes things.” 
Jeno only chuckles, plucking the ball from one of your cups and setting it aside. He closes one eye, practically doing the same with the other as he aims. He groans with a failure, looking back to you. “Do you not like him? He’s nice, though you haven’t known him as long as I and the others have.” 
“No, no, he is nice! I like him.” The last sentence is pronounced like ‘I like him as a friend’ in your head but Jeno interprets it differently. Maybe the bass from the speakers morphed the tone of your words in his thick skull. 
“You like him?” Jeno’s voice tilts high. Hyuck’s next horrible shot plonks straight at Jeno’s forehead, which he ignores in shock. 
He’s never shown incredibility like this to show you. You’re diverted to denying his words instantly, not thinking of the consequences. 
“He’s… a nice guy.” You look to Mark again and this time, he senses your gaze, throwing up a nerdy gesture of a peace sign. You wave back with a smile and don’t catch Jeno’s suspicious tonguing of his cheek at the interaction. 
“Are you accepting the bet or not?” Jeno holds a hand out, which you wait to contemplate after absolutely dunking your next shot. On a roll.
“Mark’s wingman now, are you?” Your tease causes Jeno’s jaw to shift. He acts it off as confidence, nodding with reluctance. 
Maybe he had gone too far with the little game of bets now. 
“Okay! Bet!” You perk up, wanting to win this easy wager. Mark wouldn’t ask you out, no way. 
Accepting the deal easily, you shake on it and smirk internally. 
Jeno was easy to read. An open book, you could say. Everyone in your friend group knew it as well, which made him the butt of jokes and teases all too often. He made it too fun to poke at him and you’ve joined in on the game plenty of times. This was just another game of prodding the naive Samoyed you had, though a little different. 
You didn’t really understand the reasoning behind Jeno’s disturbance all that much but he was the one that brought Mark’s supposed “crush” to you. And you’re not one to fuck with someone’s feelings that far, especially with sweet ‘ol Mark’s. 
You were pretty confident the older boy did not fancy you though; he was never around you in the first place to hint at the notion. Mark was pretty private with his romantic life so you’re not all that surprised you don’t know much. He was glued to the frat more often than usual and has been hanging out with you and company less often. 
To be fair, if Mark was with someone, hopefully, he was not blatantly kissing your forehead without care. You were never as close to Mark as the other boys like Jeno had stated before. You suppose if he did happen to ask you out tonight, it wouldn’t be so bad. But the desire to win this bet burns in your veins, even more than usual with the bizarre behavior Jeno is exhibiting at the mere thought of you returning Mark’s so-called “feelings”.
“If you’re making a bet to win this game right now, you’re gonna eat shit!” Hyuck brags, practically vibrating in excitement because the two of you were somehow tied up. Even with this dude drunk, he could be somewhat decent at games. How irritating.
Biting the corner of your lip, you ignore Hyuck, plan to win this short game of cup pong, and then win this bigger game of bets with Jeno. To gain this extra favor initializes a step-by-step scheme of what you were going to do. There was no way Jeno could beat you.
Jeno watches greed grow in your irises, probably confused. 
“So you’re confident he won’t ask you out.” He drags out his words, making sure you understood what you just shook on. 
“Yeah,” You bob in place now, trying out his strategy of closing one eye to shoot, “Mark won’t ask me out. He’s not that drunk.” 
“Really?” Jeno feigns interest, throwing his head to Mark fast approaching you, “You sure about that?” 
You don’t get to answer, Mark’s alcohol-hazed eyes crinkling. Mina follows close behind, waving a greeting to the both of you. “Hi, Mina! Mark— oomph!” 
Thinking Mark’s walk trajectory would stop before reaching so close, the junior bumps chest-first into you. 
“Hi! Can I take a celebrity shot?!” Mark yells, overcompensating his volume when you’re glued to him. He swarms your space, placing a touchy hand on the small of your back before standing on his tippy toes and stealing your ping pong. 
His mouth is instinctively making ‘Oh!’ noises as he readies it, failing miserably and pouting at the loss. “I could’ve sworn that was close, dude!” 
You and Mina share a smile. She knew her friend was a little touchy when drunk so the two of you chalk it up to being just that. Jeno doesn’t though, burning eyes watching the tight hold Mark has on you. 
Mark blinks rapidly down at you, pleading with big doe eyes, “Just one more shot I steal. One more celebrity shot!” 
You nod, easily agreeing with a laugh. Maybe you had underestimated how turnt your dude was right now. Mark leans backward a little, losing his balance and almost toppling you over with him. Mina pulls Mark away from your space, probably deciding he’s had enough of bothering you. 
“Sorry, he is so wasted right now.” Mina apologies, pushing the boy away from your beer pong table to the kitchen for water. 
Jeno makes a face that reads “I told you so”, forcing you to bend over in laughter. 
“Jeno, you can’t be serious. He acts that way with everyone!”
“You think that Mark touches up every girl like that? He kissed your forehead earlier too.” Jeno genuinely notes and you pause. Just for a split second. 
“We’re friends.” It’s as if that statement alone will end this argument and Jeno rolls his eyes. 
“And we’re friends too, dimwit. We don’t act like that, do we?” 
You shift at his words, uncomfortable at the sudden lodging of your throat. Oh, how you wish Jeno did. At least then, you’d have a pathetic hope he had an inkling of an interest in you too. 
Instead of replying to him, you turn and take Jeno’s shot for him to end the game. The last cup is yours for the taking and Renjun groans with his head thrown back, almost flying off balance at the shove Hyuck gives his partner for more space. 
“Okay, okay! Redemption shot, I got this!” Hyuck steadies his hand and bounces off the lip of your side’s last Solo cup. 
“FUCK!” 
“YOU ABSOLUTE DICKHEAD, LEE DONGHYUCK!” 
There’s a forced smile on your lips at the victory, one that only Jeno can notice is fake up close. Thankfully, he doesn’t pry on it more, seeing as he knew you weren’t going to give a truthful answer in this setting. 
You were starting to wish you had a bit of alcohol in your system, as much as you hated the taste of it on your tongue. 
|—————|
By the end of the night, you had won the bet as expected. But Jeno being the sore loser he is, tried to convince you to drag the bet on. He was super confident that Mark was into you. Maybe his friend was too wasted to ask or remember your answer if he were to come up to you about a date. 
“I’ll sleep on it,” You had said, “Especially since I pity you and I haven’t decided what I want the favor to be yet.” 
With that, Jeno breathed out a sigh in relief as he walked you home. 
|—————|
You didn’t realize how committed Jeno was to this particular game. And you don’t know why because you had honestly forgotten about it yourself the morning next. Maybe it was his pride and stubbornness stopping him from giving up.
When Jeno swings by your dorm, texting you to come downstairs quickly, you’re confused. 
He’s in comfy clothes, hair a little frizzy as he hands you a croissant and a warm cup of coffee that heats up your body temperature. 
You blearily squint your eyes at him in suspicion. “What are you buttering me up for right now?” 
With no RA in sight, you usher him into the warmth of the dorm lobby, virtually no people around to notice your blatant disregard for rules. 
“I’m not buttering you up. I just wanted to be nice this morning.” 
Staying silent, Jeno watches your expression breathe incredibility. 
“Really! I didn’t know it was a crime to be nice to you anymore, jeez.”  
The bet comes to mind and you mention it. “You’re hoping I’m not going to make you splurge your money on my favor, aren’t you?” 
Jeno laughs, the sound deep in timbre as the sun rises higher in the cold blue sky. “No, I swear. Although talking about Mark, he is going through it right now. I woke up to a video Doyoung sent me of him vomiting into the toilet.” 
You suck your lips in, holding back a laugh. “You know, if you’re trying to sell your man to me right now, describing his hangover is not working.” 
Jeno quirks the corner of his lip at that. “He probably drank half his body weight last night.” 
You roll your eyes. “And here you were, thinking he was going to be sober enough to consider asking me out. Alright.” 
Your friend shrugs, sipping at his drink. “I’m not wrong, Princess. I’ll show you with your own two eyes Mark Lee has the hots for you.” 
Cringing at the way Jeno phrased his words, you stuff the pastry you were kindly gifted into your mouth, muffling your reply. “Plea don’ efer say if like ‘at again.” 
Jeno’s shoulders shake at your antics. “You’ve slept on my proposition now, ma’am. What’s the deal?” 
Swallowing roughly, you mutter, “Can I raise the stakes to three favors?” 
Jeno scratches at his hairline at that, face in a grimace. “Fuck. Is this worth it?” 
At the hesitation in Jeno’s eyes, you jump like a hound to the smell of meat. Or in this case, a perfect opportunity to score on some free meals. 
“Yes! Yes, it’s worth it. I accept your deal!”
“Woah woah woah! I haven’t agreed yet!” Jeno is shaking his hands in front of him, dangerously leering his hot drink side to side. He licks at the lid, the brown liquid sloshing everywhere. 
“You brought this new condition up in the first place so,” Taking Jeno’s distraction as a chance to dunk cheaply on him, you take his free hand in yours, shaking on it, “Bet.” 
|—————|
It was game on from the damn get-go. 
Any chance that Jeno got, which was within a hundred feet radius of a certain junior named Mark Lee, he bolted to the boy’s side. 
Poor Mark is so confused at the sudden ramblings Jeno has of you. He’s also even more conflicted because Jeno is going in on his compliments of your smile, smarts, humor, you name it. Mark wasn’t sure whether his friend was either crushing hard and needed to only confide in him, or whether Jeno was trying to make him like you indirectly through his selling words. 
Another thing the boy stuck in the middle of this mess notices is your sudden disappearance from his vicinity. You two didn’t exactly share a class but shared a professor, who taught two subjects back to back. 
Usually, you would wait around in the auditorium-shaped classroom to catch up with him, just say hi. But no, apparently you now bolt as soon as the professor calls it quits for the day. Mark had a greeting on the tip of his tongue opening up the doors, only to scour your usual seating arrangement and come up empty. 
Poking his head out down the sidewalk, you’re speed walking away like your non-existent pet was on the verge of death. 
Mark would brush it off to some urgent duty you had but… at the odd behavior of his two friends, he decides to swing by the willow tree at the end of the week. Maybe start his own experiment on what was going on. It just didn’t seem like a coincidence to him. 
And right he was in his thoughts. 
At the sight of Mark approaching the table, your eyes widen to the size of saucers, whipping your head around to Jeno. You want to slap his smug face right off. 
“What the hell is Mark doing here? Did you convince him to come?” You spit out in a whisper, Hyuck none-the-wiser as he hollers for his best friend to sit beside him. 
Jeno shakes his head no innocently, lips pouting out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
Swearing under your breath, you plaster a smile onto your face, breathing out a greeting to the upperclassman. He grins at you, to which your cheeks heat up for some reason. 
Maybe it was because this dude beside you had been bragging about you to Mark. Jeno had told you his genius plan of planting unconscious thoughts of you in Mark’s head a few days ago and its effects are now catching up to you, sweat building on your hairline.  
Jeno misinterprets it as you getting nervous in the presence of Mark, probably wishing rain to fall on his head at manifesting his final Lee brother to sit down this afternoon. 
“What’s up, man?” Mark exchanges a handshake with Jeno as he swings his bag to the ground and tucks his legs under the table. He watches with rapture as you busy yourself with the textbook splayed out in front of you, eyes skittering. 
Before Jeno can give a general reply to Mark, Hyuck bumps Mark's shoulder. “You should text Renjun your order from that Mexican place down the street.” 
“Who’s favor are we using today?” Mark asks in curiosity. 
You raise a hand rather timidly, to which the entire table is bewildered and bemused. The bewildered people are only Hyuck and Mark because they don’t know the absolute pain-enduring embarrassment to which bemused Jeno has cursed you to withstand. You’ve always been very comfortable with the guys, including Mark, so the oblivious two not in on this bet are raising their eyebrows at your behavior. 
“What did Renjun lose against you again?” Jeno pretends to ponder deeply while you throw a heated glare his way. You wish you could burn his eyebrows right off in this moment. 
“Oh!” The bulky meathead gasps, “He lost ten-to-two against a game of naming capitals of countries. Isn’t she so smart?” 
Jeno is being so obvious. You grit your teeth as he pets your head. 
“Take your hand away before I bite your pinky finger off.” You seethe past closed lips, the audience not hearing your threat. 
Jeno jolts his limb away at that, instead, grinning a Samoyed smile toward Mark. The latter is mainly lost in trying to navigate what the fuck was going on. 
Hyuck only rolls his eyes, a little more used to your duo’s antics. “They’re probably betting on something right now.” 
Mark blinks at that. The picture was becoming a little clearer. He wasn’t sure which way to start investigating this dilemma next. 
“No!” The two of you deny instantly, sitting up straighter. It’s even more cause to believe Hyuck’s point. 
“Ignore them,” Hyuck acts like an exasperated mother to you and Jeno’s Dumb and Dumber act, pulling out his phone to show Mark the Mexican place’s menu. 
As the other pair get lost debating what to order for Mark, you turn to Jeno with a death wish written in your eyes.
“Are you crazy, Lee Jeno!? What are you doing right now, you’re practically on the verge of cheating! You’re going to give this entire thing away!” 
“No,” Jeno drags out in denial, acting like you’re a child that doesn’t understand his obvious tactic, “I’m just telling him of your intelligence. I have no clue what you’re on about.” 
You’re heavily tempted to close your textbook and go bonkers Yeri-on-Hyuck style on him but Mark butts into your killer thoughts before you can pull through. 
“What are you ordering, Y/N?” 
You stutter to Jeno’s, albeit bitter, amusement. “Um, a chimichanga. It’s… pretty good from there.” 
“Okay!” Mark perks up, tapping at the phone in Hyuck’s hand, “I’ll get the same.” 
Jeno giggles into your ear and irritation bubbles to the surface of your skin. 
“I swear to fucking—”
Mark interrupts your threat once again and you paste another pleasant smile on. “Y/N, I missed you before my class on Wednesday. You were gone before I could even say hi.” 
“Oh, yeah. I uh…” You rush to make an excuse, “I really had to water my— plant. Yeah.” 
You want to punch yourself. 
Hyuck snickers as he texts Renjun Mark’s order. “What the fuck…” 
“Yeah, what the fuck? You don’t even have a pet plant in your room. Everything you attempt to raise dies.” Jeno feels the need to contribute. You’re seething at this idiot’s audacity. 
Clarifying your mistake in excuse will only deepen the hole you’ve dug for yourself so you shut up, wanting the ground to swallow your entire being whole instead. 
“Huh,” Mark chuckles, “Okay. You’re not avoiding me for some reason, right?” 
“What? Oh, no. Not at all!” As if to prove a point to Jeno, you give the most convincing smile you can to Mark. 
“Okay, that’s good.” 
Renjun saves you from continuing this conversation as Hyuck’s phone rings, pressing the speaker button to the call. 
“What’s up?” 
“Could two of you come to the restaurant real quick? I’m going to need help carrying all this food back.” 
“Why didn’t you use your car, dumbass?” Hyuck whines. 
“Because it’s a two-minute walk from campus grounds? Come help me!” 
Jeno pipes up, “Make Jaemin and the two youngest help you. They haven’t shown up here yet.” 
“Well obviously I had thought of that, Jeno,” Renjun sasses back, “They aren’t answering.” 
“I’ll go!” You practically trip in getting up from the picnic table, dying to get away from this awkward atmosphere. 
The other three make eye contact. 
“Not it!” 
“Not it!”
“Not—! Ugh.” 
For fuck’s sake. Your luck is actual dog water.  
“Why are you so slow at this game? Your reaction speed is usually good,” Hyuck questions Mark, who groans as he gets up. 
“Well, why do we always play “Not it” then? It’s targeting me specifically.” 
You wholly ignore Jeno’s disgusting grin of satisfaction as the two of you begin to tread down the street. You curse to all above that Jeno gets kicked in the shins one day. It was looking like you were going to be the perpetrator more and more these days. 
“So…” Mark drags out, his hands in his pockets, “Do I even want to know what it is I’m currently stuck between?” 
You hum as you genuinely consider Mark’s words. “I can’t tell you. It’ll break the bet. And I really want to win.” 
Mark’s eyes crinkle in mirth. “The two of you are so competitive. It might take forever for you to win at this rate...” 
“Are you willing to be on my side?” You raise an eyebrow, secretly wishing.
To be fair, there were no very clear-cut boundaries to other methods of getting the dub. After all, Jeno is practically begging Mark to get the idea to ask you out. 
You could still cheat but not… outright cheat. 
“I guess so, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.” Mark shrugs innocently. You fold your hands together, laughing under your breath as you close your eyes while looking up. 
“Damn, this is serious, dude.” Mark laughs boisterously, observing your silly act of gratitude. 
“It’s on three favors,” You mumble past your silent prayers to the sky, “Of course this is serious.” 
“Three? Shit… Well, you have me at your disposal as long as you don’t tell me what the bet is, right? What should I do?” 
You smirk, finally looking at Mark with sinister eyes. 
The ball is in your field now. 
|—————|
“Huh.” 
Jaemin looks up from his laptop to Jeno who makes the noise of discernment, watching two figures from afar. Following his best friend’s eyeline, you and Mark are walking side-by-side toward the commons. You’re grinning as Mark laughs, bent over with difficulty while walking. 
“When did they get closer?” Jaemin asks in bewilderment. Jeno stays silent as Mark holds the door open for you and the both of you disappear into the commons. 
“Don’t know,” Jeno mumbles, finally looking down to his device and rereading the same paragraph over again. 
Jaemin makes a face at that, having been able to read his buddy for a while now. 
“So…” 
Jeno sighs, knowing that Jaemin is obviously hinting at something. “Spit it out.” 
“What bet did you make with Y/N?” 
Jeno side-eyes Jaemin with annoyance. “How do you even know anything about this?” 
“I have my ways,” Jaemin concludes mysteriously, “Answer me.”
“We bet at Johnny’s party two weeks ago.” 
“On what though?” 
“I said Mark would ask her out.” 
Jaemin snorts at that, going back to his laptop. “He’s not into her. He likes Mina.” 
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t really seem that way anymore. They’re getting all giggly and close with one another.” Jeno has a tone of temper growing in his words. 
“If the bet is over then, why is this dragging on?” 
“I raised it to three favors now. It’s indefinite.” 
Jaemin glances at Jeno again with fingers halted on his keyboard, holding back laughter. “Why would you ever, under any conditions, accept that? Against Y/N of all people too? She’s going to drain your wallet for food.” 
“She’s convincing.” 
“Or you’re whipped for her.” 
“I’m not.” Jeno gives a dirty look to the poor paragraph he’s been on for five minutes.
“You’re in deep denial, bud. I’ve been saying this for an eternity.” 
Jeno scowls at his best friend, not appreciating the entertained, twinkling eyes shot his way. Jaemin tilts his chin toward his neck, looking up through his long eyelashes at Jeno. 
“Deny it all you want but I know my shit. She likes you, you like her. It’s simple.” Jaemin chirps.
“Oh, and you’re the love expert, aren’t you, playboy?” Jeno’s exasperated, practically pouting. “I don’t like Y/N.” 
“Really? Why are you bothered with the idea of Y/N being with Mark then? You’re the one that suggested to her Mark was interested. Now that Y/N is entertaining the idea, you’ve backed off on trying to win,” Jaemin lands a slap on Jeno’s back, “You’re deserving of what you’re putting yourself through, man.” 
Jeno sighs as he folds his arms onto the table, laying his chin down. “I don’t like it when you speak sense.” 
“For one, I’ve always been speaking sense. But I’m glad you’re finally acknowledging my genius good points. I’ve been trying to get through your thick skull about her for two years.” Jaemin nods in gratification, glad Jeno is opening his eyes a little, even if it took some good ‘ole jealousy to stir his best friend’s heart around. 
|—————|
“Ow!” 
You cringe, the corners of your mouth reaching your ears. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to do that.” 
“S’okay.” He grumbles at the way, rubbing at the eye you just poked.
Pressing the face mask firmer on Mark’s already milky skin, you fixate on a bump and attempt to smooth it over. Once you’re satisfied, you wipe your hands on your pajama pants and clap in completion. 
“Perfect!” Twisting Mark’s shoulders around so that he shifts on the bed to face his mirror, he immediately ruins your hard work by bursting into laughter at the sight of the sheet mask on his face. 
“Mark! You fucking ruined it!” You can’t help but fall in line with your friend’s contagious sounds of amusement, slapping his arm lightly for him to face you and fix it again.
“I’m sorry! I look so stupid, I can’t—” 
Urging him to sit up straight, you shake your head side to side, not able to be actually mad when Mark was so humored by the new experience of night skincare. 
“Whatever. I guess I don’t care since you paid for dinner and I paid for this.” Grinning down at him, knees planted on the bed, Mark naturally returns your smile and regrets it as you lightly pinch his ear in retaliation for again, messing up your hard work. 
“My bad, my bad. But it’s whatever. Pizza isn’t expensive.” 
“That restaurant is kind of expensive though.” You mutter under your breath, brushing Mark’s hair from his head and adjusting his baby lion headband you bought for this tiny sleepover. 
“It’s chill. No big deal.” 
Settling back to sit on your heels, you raise a teasing eyebrow. “And if I make you sleep on the couch in the living room?”
Mark falls line and sinker, pouting a little. “You said we would put pillows between us tonight.” 
Laughing lightly, you rush to reassure Mark. “I’m joking, you know I am,” Throwing yourself back to the pillows on your friend’s bed, you pat the spot beside you and Mark follows, “What movies do you wanna watch?” 
He hums, tugging his laptop from its charger on the bedside table, “Didn’t we decide on binging the Tom Holland Spiderman movies earlier this week?” 
“Oh yeah, I forgot about that! I—”
Your phone begins to buzz incessantly on his nightstand and you peer at it. “Oh. It’s Jeno.” 
Mark makes a suggestive face at that and you scoff. 
You and Mark have gotten closer over your comradery of this bet with Jeno. And not in a romantic way, just more of genuinely enjoying each other’s company as friends.
Yeah, sure, the times to hang out at first were very much arranged and a little awkward. And Mark being the star student he is, was always studying or doing something productive but you two balanced each other out. You’re glad this entire thing with Jeno has gotten you to know Mark better. You two were way more similar than you thought. Mark inspires you to be productive with your weekly library study sessions and you remind Mark to not stress so much and have a breather sometimes. 
Over this bet, you’ve gained a closer friend and you’re not mad about it. The bet wasn’t ruined either since you hadn’t clued into Mark what the whole deal was about but he had an inkling; you just couldn’t confirm his suspicions. 
What Mark did confirm though was your very obvious feelings for Jeno. And no, you did not need to tell him. It was a bit obvious and as much as Mark was oblivious to many types of things, your subtlety about Lee Jeno somewhat escaped everybody else’s eyes in your friend group except for him.
(It was not because Mark caught you staring at a secret screenshot of Jeno’s gym picture he snapped you one time. Nope. No way.)
“Answer him. What are you waiting for?” Mark throws a hand over to your device, laptop placed aside for now. 
Sighing, you press the answer button. Jeno’s sleepy face drowns your phone screen and your heart palpitates at his soft look and droopy eyes. 
“Hey.” His timbre is deep with sleepiness and you resist the urge to physically make a cooing sound.
“Hey, what’s up?” 
“Was gonna ask you the same.” Jeno twists to lay on his side in bed, only illuminated with the light of his phone screen. 
“Chilling with Mark,” You flip the camera to Mark, who is busy scrolling and puts up a hand in hello, “Sleepover things, you know. Ate out earlier too.” 
You can’t register the look on Jeno’s face all that well with the way he shifts the phone to sit up in bed. But Jeno’s tone dies a little of interest and the natural quirk on his lips downturn as well. 
“Oh… I like your facemasks.” 
“Thanks!” You pat at your own, peering at Mark for a second and checking on his, “Mark kept fucking up his for ten minutes. It was a big hassle.” 
“That is not true. It was five minutes, max.” Mark pouts offscreen, patting at your cheek where the edge is lifting. Jeno catches his friend’s hand touching your face and feels a bubble of crossness pop in his chest. 
“Whatever makes you feel better,” You smile off to the side, returning to Jeno and sensing his emotions change. “So uh, you didn’t say what you were doing.” 
“Oh. I was calling to ask if you wanted to do something.” 
You feel a weight fall to the pit of your stomach in a split second. “Shit, sorry.” 
“It’s okay.” Jeno picks at a thread on his mattress. 
Mark butts in, leaning his chin on your shoulder and coming into view. “Come swing by. Hyuck is here right now, hanging with Taeil playing Mario Kart.” 
“Nah.” 
You furrow your eyebrows, confused. “Didn’t you want to spend time with us? Come on.” 
“I changed my mind,” Jeno smiles with no real power behind it. At the mention of “us”, Jeno flips his desires, not willing to out himself, and say he just wanted you for company right now. There’s a hollowness in the expression he has pasted on and you bristle at it, bothered at his show of trying to hide. 
“Okay… text me. Actually, scratch that— I’ll text you.” 
“Alright. Night.” 
“Bye—” 
A bit dejected at Jeno cutting you off and ending the call quickly on his side, your hand loosens and falls straight into your lap, phone in grip. 
“That was weird,” Mark mumbles, popping open a bag of chips and chewing a bit obnoxiously. “What are you gonna text him?” 
You follow his hand’s path and dig to grab a crisp too, sighing in agreement. “He was being a bit off. I’ll just check on him.” 
Mark hums, smiling a little. “You know him well.” 
You shrug at Mark’s words. “He’s easy to read.” 
“Oh yeah?” Mark goads, “How come you don’t notice the way he looks at you then?” 
“Huh?” 
The face and noise of confusion you make, automatically has Mark thinking of the boy you two were talking about.
“What do you mean, ‘Huh?’ It’s so obvious.” He mocks, making an exaggerated face to imitate you.
“What? What is?” 
Mark lets you stew in silence for a few moments to try and grasp what he was hinting at. At your lost expression, Mark’s facial muscles relax, a blank look overtaking his task of chewing. 
“You’re joking, right?” 
Now you laugh, incredibly baffled and feeling called out. “Mark, what? What are you trying to say?” 
“You dumb bimbo.” 
“Excuse me?!” You run out of breath, a smile still plastered on at the audacity this man has calling you a bimbo of all things. 
Mark resumes his munching, shaking his head with mirth, and returns back to his phone. “You two are lost causes.” 
“Lost c— What the—?”
He doesn’t elaborate, now ignoring you and waving a hand for you to proceed to text Jeno. Sighing, you drop this subject, albeit with difficulty because the kindest boy on Earth (well, you presumed so until now) just called you a bimbo.
You’re a little flattered at the attractive aspect attached to that word but still… rude.
You
hey, are you good?
you seemed off over facetime 
He reads your message but there’s no bubble showing you Jeno is thinking of replying. You elaborate, trying to yank some information out of this kid. 
You
if something’s up, i’ll raincheck with mark and come by
Jeno :3
nah, i’m good
don’t cancel your plans for me
was bored and didn’t know you had plans already
You
hyuck is here too like mark said 
you can join us and watch spiderman :0
doyoung’s home as well
Jeno :3
don’t worry princess, i’m good 
promise 
have fun with mark 
Biting your lip at the nickname, you rush to reply and not seem so affected by it over text. He’s never messaged and called you the nickname over the phone before. It seems more… flirty and intimate. 
You
okay, nighty night :D
Just as you’re about to put down your phone, it buzzes in your hand once more, lighting up with one last unread message from Jeno. Opening it, your brows furrow. Mark curiously peeks at your phone at the vague face you’re displaying. 
Jeno :3
wait one more thing
are you and mark??
You 
are me and mark what
Mark carefully watches your eyes, flittering as you watch Jeno’s typing bubble appear. It takes the latter a minute to reply; Mark counts in his head. 
Jeno :3
are you two dating?
have i… ya know 
are you sitting too close to him to tell me you know what? 
Your brows lift, finally looking to Mark and realizing his proximity to you. Yelping and backing up a little, Mark laughs. 
“Is he mentioning the bet? What are you going to say?” 
“Yeah, he is. And what do you mean, ‘What am I going to say?’ We obviously aren’t.” You snort, beginning to type your response. 
Mark snatches the phone straight out of your grasp, lifting it out of your reach. Crossing your arms in impatience, you frown. 
“Hear me out.” 
“Uh-huh.” There’s levity in your voice. 
“Be ambiguous.” 
“And why would I do that exactly?” 
Mark doesn’t appreciate the sass, rolling his eyes a bit. “Come on, catch up Y/N. Get a clue as to how Jeno feels about you.” 
“Why are you suggesting this? He obviously doesn’t see me that way.” 
“How do you really know that, though? You haven't been in a real relationship in college yet, right?” 
Nodding, Mark carries on. “And Jeno knows this… right? Do you see where I’m going…?” 
“Mark, please get to the point. I’m about to get an aneurysm following this plotline you’ve got going on.” 
“Just don’t say no directly and see whether he acts super jealous of you being with someone else.” 
Sighing, you droop into the pillows. 
“Give it a try. And I’m agreeing to this whole scheme too, you’ve got my permission.” Mark encourages, bumping your forearm. 
“Fine,” You give in, making a “gimme, gimme” motion for Mark to hand your phone back into your possession. 
You 
no, you haven’t won
we haven’t talked like that  
i suppose i’m not against the idea tho
Jeno :3
it seems like you two are seeing each other
Mark makes a noise that is similar to being translated to “I told you so!” as Jeno adds to his statement a few seconds after his last text. 
Jeno :3
did you notice the way he looked at you on ft?
Mark bursts into laughter but you don’t follow suit, genuinely befuddled. “This kid is so lovesick.” 
Ignoring Mark’s comment, you reply back for more clarification. 
You
no??? 
how 
Jeno :3 
like you hold the fucking moon in your hands idk 
i’ve been telling you, he likes you 
Mark takes your device again and you panic, fighting for it. “Don’t you dare! Make it sound like me, idiot!” 
“Okay, okay! Relax, I got this!” 
You 
Would you be okay with me getting with Mark? 
Does it bother you? 
“MARK LEE! YOU DUMB BITCH!” Yanking the pillow from behind Mark, you begin to whack the heedless boy, angry beyond belief at his obvious text. “Could you have been any less discreet?!” 
“STOP! Oh my God, stop! Look at what he said back!!!” Mark begs, cradling your conversation with Jeno like a baby and offering it over as a token of peace.
Jeno :3
i just don’t want you to get hurt 
You
you tell me, you know him better 
would he hurt me?
Engulfed in Jeno’s texts now, Mark mumbles over your shoulder, “I would be an amazing boyfriend to anyone.” 
“Shut up, I dislike you right now.” 
Mark shrinks, lips sucked into his mouth to stay silent. 
Jeno :3
not intentionally 
he’s a good guy
You’re grasping at straws, unable to believe your eyes. He was jealous, holy shit.
You’ve gotten to know Jeno’s speaking mannerisms, his facial expressions, his texting habits well, and yet you have never seen jealousy as an emotion so easily read from him like now. You’re not sure how to interpret this yet, either as a chance that maybe, just maybe, Lee Jeno potentially has feelings for you or is that he’s just confirming your beliefs of him caring about you as a platonic friend. 
You 
that sounds passive-aggressive, even over text 
Jeno :3
i’m not being passive-aggressive 
ig i’m saying i don’t want to pick up the broken pieces after he hurts you or smth 
“Yikes,” Mark whispers and you send a scowl over your shoulder, “Why’d my man word it like that?” 
Making a sound of indignation, you press on your phone’s keyboard with aggression.
You 
do you realize this is all hypothetical right
Jeno :3
well by the looks of it, you two are together already 
You 
jeno you’re being stupid rn
i just told you we weren't together 
Jeno :3
and you just asked me if i would be bothered if you ended up with him 
i’m answering your question???
You 
look i don’t want to fight over text rn 
i’ll call you tmrw? 
Jeno :3 
sure 
At your downcast face, Mark starts feeling bad. “Sorry. It seemed like a good idea in hindsight.” 
Looking back at Mark through your lashes, he gives a small tight-lipped smile and opens up his arms. You fall into them with a huff and he tugs his laptop back onto his thighs, also dragging your blanket over your body. 
“It’s okay. I agreed with your idea. At least now I know he’s bothered at the thought of us being together.” 
Mark softly grins at that, patting your head in endearing reassurance. “Maybe this will push him to actually do something.” 
You peer up from the crook of Mark’s shoulder for a second, trying to get at what Mark means. “Push him to do what?” 
Mark only shakes his head in mirth, black hair falling into his eyes. “Nothing. Don’t worry about a pretty little hair on your head. You’ll get it soon enough.” 
|—————|
Leaving the 127 house and heading back to your dorm, the cold air rushes at your face. Your flimsy jacket doesn’t do much to keep you warm, the blasting wind this late morning waking you up. 
Your eyes squint as you begin your trudge to your room and coincidentally, Jeno is standing at the door, looking to have been pacing outside for a while. 
“Jeno?” 
He whips around at the sound of your morning voice, puppy eyes wide in surprise. Jeno takes in the state of you, appearing like you just walked straight out of bed and snorts. 
“What a sleepover.”  
Wholly ignoring the twinge of spitefulness in the remark, you trudge past, not down for his attitude currently. 
“Morning.” You curtly mutter, waving an exaggerated hand to usher Jeno into the lobby of your dorm. With no one around in sight, you figured it was safe. After all, you weren’t petty enough in this tiny misunderstanding to leave Jeno out in the cold. 
He shivers once inside, collapsing onto the stiff couch and blowing into his cupped hands. Rocking on your heels, you stand before Jeno and patiently wait for him to bring up this conversation you two needed to have. 
“So… have I won?” He looks up to you.
You raise your eyebrows. “No. And I said that last night. Want to tell me why you were agitated yesterday?” 
“I was not agitated.” 
“It kind of seemed like it.” 
Jeno crosses his arms. A small pout sits on his lips and the ice around your heart from his mean demeanor earlier melts. 
“He’s… Mark isn’t…” 
“He’s what?” Deciding to sit down beside him, your back leans against the armrest of the couch, body facing toward Jeno wholeheartedly. 
Jeno looks to the soda vendor, eyes locked on the broken and shaky lights blinking in it. 
“This bet isn’t fair. I realized last night,” He meets your gaze and at the blank look in them, you wrap your arms around yourself, “The indefinite terms were that… I would win if Mark asked you out and you would win if he didn’t, right?” 
“Are you suggesting that I’m lying to you? Over a dumb bet?” 
Jeno shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweats, brown irises fluttering away from you again. 
“Let’s call it off.” 
You sit up straighter, confusion stapled in your voice. “What?” 
“Let’s call the bet off.” 
“But— but why? It’s been a few weeks and you’re going to call it off now—?” 
“Yeah, I am,” Jeno sighs, standing and turning with a serious tone. “I don't want in anymore.”
Getting up as well, you grab Jeno’s hand before he could leave without any explanation. “Jeno, are you being serious? I told you, Mark hasn’t asked me anything. We aren’t seeing each other.” 
“Then why did you suggest last night you were thinking about it?” 
The furrow between Jeno’s brows indicate his anger. Leaning back from the emotion, you can’t help but roll your eyes. 
“Jeno… this is why I hate texting, alright? It’s a misunderstanding. I was just wondering what you would think about me and Mark being an item. I wasn’t genuinely—”
Sighing deeply, you cut yourself off and tug at his hand to get him to sit back down. Jeno resists the movement, looking frustrated. His non-cooperation to try and talk things out burns the fire within you higher.
“Why does it even matter to you if I were? I don’t need to be explaining myself to you. You’re the one that’s gotten me onto Mark in the first place, Jeno!”
“Look, I don’t give a shit whether you like Mark or not—”
“Then why are you acting this way?”
The desperation is your strained voice has Jeno swallowing roughly. The words he wants to say are dying to climb out of his throat but…
Jeno’s jaw shifts, eyes becoming cold. “I don’t want in with the bet anymore, end of story. Are we done?” 
Water starts to prick your eyes, not understanding Jeno’s harshness. It was just a lighthearted bet, right? 
Your throat constricts, making your belated answer sound forced. “Yeah. We are.” 
|—————|
“Jeez. Who shat in your salad today?” 
You glare, meeting the sight of Hyuck dragging out the chair opposite to you as the metal legs scrape against the commons’ linoleum floor.
“Not in the mood, Hyuck.” 
The corners of his mouth stretch to the edges of his plump cheeks, bared teeth cringing on display. “Okay… I just wanted to update you that my mom wants your family over for dinner on break. Do you… want me to leave?” 
When he starts looking around the cafeteria, you hurriedly grab your childhood friend’s arm which is hovered near his face holding a breadstick. “No! Stay.” 
Your friend smirks at the needy words and in retaliation, you snatch the warm bread of his weak grip. Hyuck is on the cusp of complaining but eying the pout glued to your lips, he sighs and gives up. 
“Want me to accompany your misery?”
Humming non-committedly, your cheeks puff out from the food you completely stuffed in its confines, not willing to talk much. Biting his lip, Hyuck hesitates to mention what he wants to say. At the puppy eyes you give him, Hyuck finally asks. 
“This about Mark?” 
You shake your head. But on further thinking, you take it back with lips sucked into your mouth and shrug. 
“Ah, this bet with Jeno then?”
Stilling at his name, Hyuck shakes his head mirthfully. “I figured. You two argue?” 
Swallowing harshly, you rest your chin on the palm of your hand. “Yeah. It’s been two days and I’ve tried reaching him but he doesn’t pick up. Nana says he’s ignoring me.” 
Hyuck rolls his eyes at his friend’s shitty behavior. “Fucking idiot. Can’t take a clue for the life of him. Actually…” Hyuck aims his twisted face of disgust towards you, “That applies to your dumbass too.” 
You kick at Hyuck’s ankle lightly. “Hey! You’re not making me feel any better. Stop calling me names, Hyuck!” 
He hisses dramatically, grasping onto his foot like a baby. “Ow! Alright, alright! I was just saying… All of us have been watching this little footsie game between you and Jeno for a while. It’s annoying to see you two mope around when you could just confess and not ruin the vibes! Movie night was boring without you two yesterday.” 
He makes an exaggerated devastated face to pair with his last words. 
“Hyuck…” Your throat tightens and willing yourself not to cry in front of a lot of the campus population right now, you gather yourself more, “Although he’s acting like a fucking idiot right now… I don’t like fighting with him. He’s my best friend.” 
Hyuck smiles softly, taking your worries more seriously now. “I would hope so. You two are the backbone of our entire gaggle of friends. None of us don’t like seeing you two fight either.” 
Biting your lip, you lean closer across the table. “I’ll be honest. I knew that we were taking the bet too far when Mark was starting to get suspicious. And I feel bad for dragging him into it… Is Jeno ignoring Mark too?”
“I’m guessing so… Let’s clarify some things first though,” Hyuck pushes his high plate of food aside with your poor excuse of a salad for lunch, folding his hands in front of himself like a professional therapist, “You have to be completely truthful to me. No lying.”
You nod desperately, roped into Hyuck’s serious tone. 
“Do you like Jeno?” 
Breath stopping, you sit back into your seat. Your hesitation says it all for Hyuck while you look around, afraid of others overhearing. Hyuck gathers your wrists, willing your body to stop squirming. 
“Are you okay with just being his friend? Or do you want to be more?” 
You whine. “Hyuck…” 
“Because if you can’t settle with just being his friend anymore… You should tell him. It hurts more to think about what could’ve been than knowing the truth in the moment. Don’t you agree?” 
Hyuck stares deeply into your conflicted eyes, wanting you to understand him. 
“But… but what if he says he doesn’t—? I mean, you said we were the backbone o-of— then everything would be ruined and things would fall apart!”
“Well, I’ll tell you this now Y/N, that boy is head over heels in love with you. You’ve probably heard this before but seriously… if you consider him your best friend and you know him so well, Jeno would not just cut you out of his life. Especially for feelings you can’t help.”
“Are you sure?” 
Your open expression makes Hyuck grin, left hand going up to ruffle your hair in amusement. 
“Yes, you goof. Now eat up some more breadsticks and let’s begin Operation Confession…” Hyuck grins sinisterly after shoving his pile of said-breadsticks your way, “How you’re going to confess to Jeno.” 
|—————|
“Hyuck, I’m going to throw up in anxiety if you keep pacing in front of me.” 
Hyuck stills at that, the trek he’s made and burned into your dorm’s floorboards halted. The fingers in his hair rip out, suddenly coming forward to play with your own. 
“Sorry, I’m just worried for you.” Your friend’s eyes are wide, the nerves getting to him as his hands shake while brushing through some of your strands. 
“Worried for me? Hyuck, you’re the one that’s planned this whole thing!” 
“I know but now that the moment is finally here, I’m scared!” 
“Hyuck, stop!” Yanking his hold away from you, you stand and jump to shake the butterflies in your stomach. Your chest felt tight and the breaths you were taking through your nose felt too short for comfort. 
Thoughts of rejection and the possibility of the worst come flooding in like a thunderstorm, drowning your senses and bringing everything forward, including the pasta you and Hyuck demolished an hour ago. 
“Oh my gosh, I think I’m going to be sick.” 
“Woah, woah! Okay!” Hyuck grabs onto your forearms, guiding you to sit back onto your desk chair, “Y/N, you’re going to do just fine, okay? I’ve set up everything for you, all you have to do is be there and tell him.” 
Your eyes meet Hyuck’s and he takes in your frightened expression with open arms. Hugging your frame tightly like you’re his own little sister, his own lids shutt with the sincerity he holds. Hyuck pulls back to pat your cheeks. 
“Don’t be too nervous.”
You roll your eyes. “I can’t help it, alright? Tell me more details! I feel so out of the loop… I mean, it’s been a week and we haven’t talked. How are you getting him to see me?” 
“Don’t worry about that,” Hyuck forces you to take a deep swallow of air and you do so with difficulty and shakiness. 
“Let’s leave. Jaemin is waiting on us.” 
|—————|
“Jaemin, what’s the ETA?” 
“Uh… I’m in the parking lot right now. His class just got out.” 
Hyuck nods resolutely, the most serious and grave face on. You clutch to his forearm, desperately leaning your ear to hear Jaemin as well. 
“Okay, so what? Five minutes?” Hyuck digs. 
Nana sighs over the receiver. “Dude, are you sure this is okay? He’s been avoiding even me for the past week because I’ve been bugging him about Y/N… we live together! Don’t you think this is going too far?” 
Hyuck clutches the phone tighter, his hand blindly pushing your face away to get some space and focus on answering Jaemin. 
“Dude, go with the excuse and do whatever needs to be done. Pop his fucking tires, I don’t care. We’ve getting these two clueless clowns together today.” 
You pout at Hyuck’s words which are unnecessarily harsh. “I’m right here, you know?” 
Hyuck ignores you, nodding at whatever Jaemin says in response over the phone, which you now can’t listen to. The both of them hang up.
“So?” You rock between your toes and heels, “We just wait here? This park is near his class?” 
Hyuck finally turns while pocketing his phone, nodding. “Yeah, he’ll be here any minute now,” He then grabs onto your shoulders, shaking you like a bobblehead, “You got this, okay? Jaemin will text me when Jeno will head your way.”
Swallowing with difficulty, a noise between distress and a cry climbs from the bottom of your throat. 
“Hyuck, no. No, we’re canceling this whole thing, I’m shitting myself right now! I mean—” You gesture toward the nice picnic dress you have adorned, hair pinned up and light makeup done, “I look so stupid trying so hard and it’s fucking freezing out! He’s going to be weirded out that I’m telling him all this in a fucking park of all places—” 
Hyuck attempts to ease your worries but you’re unable to understand him, crouching to the ground and scolding yourself for being so optimistic.
You get up in a hurry. “Nope! Nope, I’m leaving, I can’t face him today—” 
“Wait! Wait!” Hyuck chases after your quick tread back to his car on the dirt path of the park, urgently starting to whisper and tug at your arm when he feels a buzz in his pocket. 
“He’s coming right now! Stop Y/N—!”
You register Hyuck’s words in your head too late, eyes bulging out the sockets when the turn on the path has Lee Jeno jogging on it. Worry paints his face, his dark hair is matted to his head with sweat as he desperately looks around. Jaemin is calling his name and cursing him to slow down, bent on his knees when his best friend finally stops but only to yell, “Where is she?!” 
Freaking out, you whip around causing Hyuck to skid and dig the heels of his feet to stop himself from running into your frame. Looking over your head, he clutches your shoulders. 
“See?! I was telling you, it’s too late to back out. He’s here!” 
“Oh hell no.”
You push at Hyuck to start walking in the opposite direction but Hyuck shakes his head vehemently before yanking you back. You almost fly to the ground, stumbling with a yelp. It alerts Jeno, who looks over to the sound and recognizes your figure.
“Y/N!” 
Your face turns furious, burning hot in anger. Hyuck freezes and shrivels under the fire of your vengeance, only to smile tightly a second after. 
“Sorry!” He chirps before abandoning you, turning 90 degrees and sprinting straight up the incline of the park’s hill. Hyuck trips on the way to the top, finally reaching the safe haven from your wrath and putting up a clenched fist. 
“Fighting!” 
“You motherfucker!”
Genuinely startled when familiar large hands engulf your waist and turn you around, you come face to face with Jeno, out of breath and eyes wild with fear. 
“Are you alright?!” He starts gently patting your cheeks, gaze fluttering over your body, “Are you hurt anywhere?!”
Jeno’s eyes flicker to the top of the hill, anger still set deep in his eyebrows. “Was that him!? The attacker?” 
“W-What? What attacker!? Why would I be hurt—?” 
“Jaemin said some guy hit you with his bike!!” 
Leaning over to peer past Jeno’s forearm, Jaemin jumps when meeting your eyes, slowly placing his foot behind a tree, following it with the other to hide his guilty expression. 
“You… didn’t get hit?” 
Looking back to Jeno’s blinking, confused at your twisted face, you can’t help but laugh at the stupid lie. 
“What— of course not! I’m fine! There’s not even a bike around us anywhere!” 
“Then why did Jaemin—” Jeno catches the sight of chestnut hair flapping at the top of the hill, peeking eyes blinking over the two of you. “These dumb idiots…” 
He’s tonguing at the inside of his cheek, head thrown back in annoyance. You suck your mouth in at that, finally realizing what Jaemin and Hyuck had planned behind both of your backs. Rubbing at your forearms, you cave in on yourself, shoulders drooping in anxiety. 
Heart beating out of your chest, you open your mouth to speak up but Jeno suddenly whips his head forward to peer straight into your eyes.
His mouth opens to start talking more but something within himself forces him to stop. It was just like the last time you two fatefully argued. 
As he considers how to put out his words, your facial expression is wide and hopeful. It causes Jeno’s heart to stutter. Suppressing himself from seeing you for an entire week was a complete miracle and a curse. 
Sure, it felt good when his phone would light up, vibrating with your caller id on his phone. But leaving it unanswered made his stomach twist the first two days. After that, Jeno would constantly look to see if you had called again, like the imbecile he knew he was being in this situation. 
Attempting to own up to how mean he was, Jeno would hover over the call button on your contact… but your profile picture would always halt his thumb from facing you head-on. 
Both of your backs are facing the camera but you’re clearly smiling up at him in the picture. Your eyes are crinkled up to and although you always love to point out how endearing his squinted eyes were, he’s never had the courage to say yours were cuter in his opinion. 
From there on, Jeno would think of how you smile when Mark is around. Like that time in the commons, or at the picnic table under the willow tree, or at that stupid sleepover. Jealousy would consume him and slide a hazy, red-tinted window of anger over his vision before Jeno tosses his phone away. 
But a few moments later, he’ll feel guilt and stupidity for acting possessive of you. He had no right. You’re weren’t his and you never were.You never would be if he didn’t even take the chance to tell you how he’s felt for the past two years… You must hate him, you must absolutely loathe him for pushing you away like this… 
He hates it too. 
The wise phrase— “You only miss what you have until it’s gone,” is entirely true and Lee Jeno would bet everything on those words. If only he could turn back time and take back that small moment of curiosity at the 127 frat party. If only he hadn’t felt the urge to see whether his small suspicion of Mark liking you was anything solid. If only he hadn’t placed that bet and gotten your interest piqued. 
But you deserve to be happy. Jeno, as your best friend, should want you to be happy. And right now, you weren’t if you were scared of losing him. The sooner Jeno gets over you, the sooner you could be happy again. 
With this in mind, Jeno swallows harshly while digging his hands into his pockets, ready to get rejected. “Y/N, I’m sorry for ignoring you this past week. I’ve… been thinking a lot…” 
You let Jeno talk, knowing he needs to get something off his chest. Seeing his face contort with how much he’s been holding in, your grip on your forearms tighten to avoid trying to comfort Jeno.
“You should be mad at me for how childish I’ve been acting over this bet, right?” Jeno peeks at your expression, flickering between the ground and your expression. You don’t give anything away though, only tucking your lips into your mouth. 
“I’m sorry.”
“For what specifically?” 
He hums, trying to gain confidence to look forward. “Just being a dick. I know we don’t have many big disagreements so I’m sorry you had to learn I tend to push people away like this when I get angry.” 
Your laugh twinkles in his ears and Jeno can’t help but smile softly. “Oh, I know, you meathead. I just tended to be a bystander and not on the receiving end of the silent treatment.”
His lips quirk up when you cross your arms, brows furrowed. “Cute.”
For once, he finally gives into the urge of telling you, smiling. 
“Horrible timing, Jeno,” You slap his arm out of complete habit, embarrassment getting the best of you. Jeno can only grin, happy to see your crinkled eyes make an appearance. 
“And also, I look cute everyday.” 
“You do.” 
Squinting, you shake your head. “You’re buttering me up to accept this semi-shitty apology, aren’t you?” 
Jeno’s shoulders shake in amusement. “Princess, stop thinking I have an ulterior motive all the time.” 
“What’s all these compliments with the apology then? Are you going to tell me why you got so angry over this bet?” The rambling starts, questions spilling forward while you momentarily forget to tell Jeno your feelings, “I mean, I know we’re both competitive, and maybe I was taking it too far by getting Mark somewhat on my side to make you nervous—”
“You what—?”
You wave away Jeno’s indignation. “But I promise he doesn’t know what the bet is about! He just knows he’s involved! I’m still really confused why you pushed me away in the first place though because you’re the one who proposed the bet first! Really, if anything, you should have realized how unfair the bet on your side was before remaking the rules—”
Jeno sighs before interrupting you, bracing for the worst with cringed teeth. “It’s because I like you.” 
The swallow of your saliva while rambling makes it halfway down your throat before you cough, turning in shock to not spit in Jeno’s face. You accidently meet Hyuck’s gaze, his own irises widening on his friend’s confession. Somewhere in the background, the loudest gasp is heard very conspicuously behind a tree. 
“And I know I’m fucking stupid and horrifically dumb for not realizing it until you started getting really close to Mark but—” Jeno rubs at the back of his neck, unwilling to see your reaction to his words. 
“Sounds very toxic for your masculinity—” 
Jeno clears his throat awkwardly.
“But—! I’m working on it. I also know you really don’t see me like that, knowing how upset you were about how I was talking about Mark—”
You tug at one of Jeno’s arms, panicking at his assumptions. “How do you know I don’t see you like that?”
Jeno’s eyes go as wide as saucers. “Are you saying you do?”
“I mean…” You chuckle, gesturing towards the two mutual friends you had camping around the both of you, and then to your outfit, “Hyuck got me to wear a dress in the middle of November. What other special occasions like confessing to my crush would require me to look like this? ” 
Jeno snorts, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Well, in your usual words, fashion sacrifices. And you look very pretty. Unfortunately, I’m all sweaty from sprinting here after thinking you got hurt.” 
You curl your arms around Jeno’s neck, grinning with a slight laugh. “Oh yeah, you’re a real idiot for falling for those words so easily.”
“Seems like you’re stuck with this idiot now…” Jeno swallows roughly, smiling eyes darting to your lips, “Will you go out with me?” 
You lean in, a hair's breadth away from making you two official.
“Bet.” 
|—————|
“What did your mom say about dinner?” 
Humming, you start the timer and face your phone’s screen up, returning to join Jeno’s watch party of the Yeri and company’s picnic table. Hyuck was over there currently, rubbing shoulders with the older girl. 
“You’re all set. She said she’s excited to meet you since Hyuck bragged last break how he got the two of us together.”
Jeno looks away just as Yeri stands up, Joy jumping at her sudden movement. He peers at your side profile and the happy grin you’ve got on. 
“Hyuck did not.” 
You sigh, sending a grin Jeno’s way. “He did. He has my whole family on the edge of their seats, waiting to meet you.” 
Jeno groans, his forehead banging against the picnic table. “Don’t tell me that. Now I have even higher expectations to meet.” 
“Don’t worry,” You drag out while rubbing Jeno’s back, eyes glued to Hyuck slowly backing away from Yeri, “I’ve never brought someone home before but my family knows whoever I will bring home means a lot to me. That’s enough for them, trust me.” 
Jeno turns his head, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand now. “That didn’t make me feel any better.” 
You laugh, pressing a quick peck to your boyfriend’s pouty lips. 
Finally, Hyuck’s signature high-pitched screech of terror alerts everyone in the campus plaza of his next hustle with Yeri. 
Jeno hurriedly peers over to your phone’s screen, collapsing onto the table again in defeat. You don’t have to look at the timer to know you’ve won, instead further attempting to heal Jeno’s suffering this particular bet made back a few months ago and about meeting your parents soon. 
“It was exactly two minutes and fifty-eight seconds.” Jeno groans, muzzling his voice and hair as he tunnels himself into his arms. 
You burst into laughter, leaning on Jeno’s body as Yeri grabs a fistful of snow and makes Hyuck fall on his back with the powerful throw. 
“Please don’t laugh at my pain.” Jeno peeks up at you. 
“No, no, look!” You’re gasping in air as Hyuck slowly gathers himself and starts walking over to you two again, face completely red from the cold snowball launched at it. 
Jeno can’t help but fall in line. As Hyuck approaches you closer, the funniest expression of a defeat is glued on his tomato-colored face. You almost fall back off your seat but Jeno clutches your arm at the last minute. 
“You two enjoy seeing me in pain so much, don’t you?” Hyuck collapses into the bench, a flurry of snow fluttering into the wooden table. You and Jeno bend even farther forward, laughing your asses off. 
“Well I hope that stupid bet you two just had was worth it. Especially given all I’ve done for you idiots…” Hyuck grumbles.
Jeno suddenly stops chuckling, now completely void of any humor and getting up slowly. “About that asshole… what did you say to her parents, huh?”
“What?!” Hyuck’s eyes are humongous, flickering over to you for some help, “Nothing bad, I promise! All good things!”
“Oh, I know you, Lee Donghyuck—”
“— Not the full government name…” You snicker. 
Jeno bends to grab snow, “You and your devilish words probably spilled—”
“Of how much of an asshat you are?” Hyuck daringly leans his chin up, teasing your boyfriend in good fun, “Yeah! Maybe I did.” 
With that, Hyucks rounds the table in a flash, using you as a shield as a snowball fight commences. Renjun, being just around the corner for arriving for the usual lunch, gets a clump of white in the balls and Chenle and Jisung pounce on their oldest friend for fun. Jaemin slinks in to sit on the sidelines calmly until you and Mark target him. 
Your fear of ruining the friend group was irrational and this specific moment solidifies that fact. Because as Jeno drags you to the ground to tickle, fluff in his hair and in yours, you sober up. You take in the moment and hear the sound of those gaggle of chaotic boys you call your friend group in the back before tugging at Jeno’s jacket to meet his cold lips. 
Let’s just say, as the two people being the backbone of eight, you wouldn’t have things any other way. 
2K notes · View notes
tyonfs · 10 months
Text
stargirl interlude
Tumblr media
PAIRING ▸ na jaemin x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ smut, influencer au, strangers to lovers
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, mc and her friends are a little shallow, tbh i wrote this because of jaemin’s tits, dirty talk, sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), kitchen sex, oral (m. receiving), oral (f. receiving), lowkey dumbification, body worship, ft. one night stand with jeno 
SUMMARY ▸ and i shouldn't cry, but I love it, starboy / i just wanna see you shine 'cause i know you are a stargirl
PLAYLIST ▸ stargirl interlude by the weeknd, lana del rey • alien superstar by beyoncé
WORD COUNT ▸ 5.9k words
TAG LIST ▸ @leeknowsredeyeliner​ @geniejunn​ @sehunniepot​ @jjaeyoonoh​ @subhyuck​ @jenoluuvvs​ @jaemboi64​ @otchae​ @n0hyuck​ @hyuckinx​ @domhyuckie​ @justhereforimagines​ @daegalfangirl​ @soobin-chois​ @lmkworld​ @baekhyuns-lipchain​ @its-taeil-time​ @produmads​ @kaislinging-slasher01​ @neomorning​ @learnthisfeeling​ @glitching-wren​ @carelessshootanonymous​ @thiccfullsun​  
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ jaemin is finally not an asshole. everybody say congrats jaemin.
Tumblr media
THE WALK OF SHAME.
The distance from Lee Jeno’s apartment to yours was approximately 0.6 miles. If you walked fast enough, it would take you around ten minutes to get back home. Meaning, that was ten minutes spent doing the Walk of Shame at nearly three in the morning.
Of course, the whole point of being an e-girl was to keep up an unattainable internet persona. You wanted to be a star, and what better way than to weaponize your good looks? Your entire brand was posting revealing pictures of yourself on Instagram and Twitter, maintaining a “gamer girl” image. Sort of like Belle Delphine, but you hadn’t stooped low enough to start selling your bathwater to strangers on the internet. You were a lone flower on the edge of a cliff—so high up that no one could reach for your stem.
Except Jeno, apparently, after you caved and met him in person tonight.
You and Jeno followed each other on Twitter a few months ago. Despite attending the same college, you two hadn’t ever met in person before. He was a popular YouTuber, so there had been rumors flying around about his sudden interactions with you. Your influencer friends were trying to grill you for more information, but you sincerely had no idea where Jeno’s sudden interest in you came from. After you posted a picture of you in pink lace lingerie complete with Hello Kitty clips and pigtails, Jeno had finally slid into your DMs.
jeno: i’d rather spend the night with you
(In response to the caption on your post: spend the day with me?)
As one would expect, things escalated from there. Jeno was hot, you were horny, and he conveniently lived 0.6 miles away from you.
In short, you got good dick. Jeno started with one hand wrapped around your neck and the other snaking its way between your legs. You were satisfied, especially because the streamer didn’t try to dap you up after railing you on his gaming chair, the wall, and then his bed. You two made some small talk afterward, and then you headed home. Prince Charming could not be fucked to give you a generous ride back to your apartment.
You pulled out your phone to look at your face in the camera app. As expected, you were a mess, but you touched up your lipstick and blush with the few makeup products you stuffed in your purse. Then, you called your best friend, Lee Donghyuck, who had been flooding your friend group’s group chat with messages for the past hour.
“Dude,” you started as soon as he picked up. Donghyuck was in the middle of taking his headphones off to put his AirPods in, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Jeno walked me to the door and made me walk home by myself.”
“No fucking way.” Donghyuck laughed. “That’s what you get for hooking up with a guy who plays Val.”
Ah, yes. Featured on Jeno’s YouTube: streams of Valorant, League of Legends, and Overwatch. There were the occasional indie games he was requested to play, too. The only one you semi-watched and commented on was Little Nightmares.
“The dick was incredible,” you told your best friend, “but he’s not cuffing material.”
“Not like you care about cuffing anyone.”
“Yes, I do!” you objected. “I’m boyfriend-hunting, Hyuck. Think about how much attention I’d get if I started dating a hotshot influencer.”
“You should date Mark Lee, then. Everyone’s thirsting over those e-boy TikTokers now. Or maybe Liu YangYang. Heard his body count’s high as fuck.”
You rolled your eyes. “His body count’s high because no one goes back a second time. Plus, I think YangYang’s finally in the talking stage with someone.”
“Good for him.” Donghyuck yawned. “Anyway, I’m going to bed soon since I finished editing my Maldives vlog. I’m still pissed you didn’t come with us.”
You rolled your eyes. Donghyuck, Yoo Jimin, Choi Beomgyu, and Uchinaga Aeri had been giving you shit for backing out on the trip the five of you had been discussing for a few months. There were just too many things going on in your life at the time, so you told them you wouldn’t be able to make it before tickets were purchased. Of course, your absence made several of your followers question if your friend group had a falling out, but you all decided not to address pointless rumors.
“I’ll come along next time when I’m not broke,” you assured. “I’m at my apartment now, so I’ll talk to you later. Bye-bye, Hyuck.”
Donghyuck threw up a peace sign before hanging up. You tucked your phone in your back pocket as you tried to fish out your key card from your purse.
However, there was a problem: it was missing.
“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, sitting down at one of the benches outside to dig through your purse. You swore you hadn’t taken it out, so it definitely wasn’t at Jeno’s place. The only possible explanation was that you dropped it on the way or left it inside your apartment.
Screw these auto-locking doors.
You were royally screwed.
Fast-forward to twenty minutes later. You were still sitting at the same bench. This time, your head was in your hands and you were shivering like a chihuahua. It was dark, save for the flickering streetlight above you. You had even resorted to texting Jeno, asking him if you could go back to his place and spend the night. It was downright embarrassing, but it was your last resort. Jeno, however, seemed to have been asleep due to his lack of response.
A guardian angel was sent your way, though, in the form of a cute but tired-looking college student with a bag of groceries in hand. Kind eyes, but he looked far too exhausted to smile genuinely.
“Do you need to be let in?” the boy asked, gesturing toward the apartment entrance. He had his key card in hand, and you nearly jumped to your feet.
“Uh, yeah, but…” you trailed off. Even if you accepted his offer, you wouldn’t be able to get into your own room.
He handed you his brown Essentials hoodie he had draped around across his shoulders. “Cold?”
You wondered if your shivering or hard nipples gave it away. Surely, it had to be your nipples showing through the skimpy one-piece you had on. You never would have dressed like this if you knew Jeno was going to make you walk home yourself.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the hoodie from him and slipping it on. It fell past your thigh and smelled good—a non-offending mix of pine and detergent. “Uh, but even if you let me in, I can’t get into my room. I lost my key.”
“Oh.”
You folded your arms across your chest. The boy beside you ruffled his fluffy brown hair, and you were wondering why he hadn’t gone inside the building yet. Maybe he was waiting for you to find some other place to go, or maybe he wanted his hoodie back.
“Have you tried asking the RA?” he asked.
“I can only get a card replacement in the morning.”
“Can your roommate open the door?”
“Don’t have one.”
“Got a friend who’ll let you stay at their place?”
“Asleep.”
“Significant other?”
“I’m single and my dick appointment made me walk home alone.”
You didn’t realize how bitter you sounded until you saw the shocked look drawn across the boy’s face. You felt sorry for dumping that on him, but you were getting way too frustrated about your lack of options. You didn’t even have a roommate you could call for help since you opted for a single.
He cleared his throat before shyly offering, “Uh… I guess you could stay at my place for the night, if you want. I can sleep on the couch.”
Your cheeks heated up. You were no stranger to random kindness from men, but perhaps you were just grateful for his proposition since you were running low on options.
“That’d be great,” you said. “Thanks.”
You followed the boy into the apartment building. He introduced himself as Na Jaemin, an animal science major in your same year who was president of a club that raised guide dogs for blind people. It was comforting to hear, so your anxiousness over this stranger luring you in to murder you in cold blood was slowly letting up.
He unlocked the door for you, letting you into his apartment first. You looked around to see a quite ordinary looking living space with a few posters and polaroids hung up on the walls. There was a border collie curled up in a dog bed in the corner of the living room, and Jaemin was being extra careful to make sure he didn’t accidentally wake him up.
He set the plastic bag down, which you found out was dog food that he picked up from a friend. It definitely made a lot more sense than him shopping for groceries at three in the morning.
“You live alone?” you asked for the sake of making small talk.
“My roommate graduated a semester early,” he replied. “I’ve been living on my own, just like you.”
“Doesn’t it get lonely?”
He turned the question back to you, asking, “Do you get lonely?”
You shrugged as you sat down on his couch, sitting stiffly at the edge of the cushion. “When you get so much attention online, you kind of need the privacy.”
“Oh, I see.”
No more questions asked.
Jaemin retreated into his room for a moment before returning with a pillow and blanket in hand. He tossed them beside you on the couch and met your gaze.
“Bed’s ready for you whenever,” he said. “The bathroom’s inside my room, if you need to use the shower or anything. Let me know if you need any clothes to sleep in.”
Your face was heating up like a furnace, but you were glad he couldn’t see how his words were affecting you. You flushed with embarrassment when you noticed Jaemin’s eyes flicker past your neck. He probably thought his gaze went undetected, but you noticed. Suddenly, all you wanted to do was pull his hoodie high enough so that the hood hid the hickies Jeno left across your skin.
“I can just use your hoodie,” you replied. “Thanks.”
Jaemin managed a small, tired smile. You took that as your cue to get out of the living room so that he could pass out in peace. So, you headed into his bedroom and stared at his tidy bed, wondering if he had frantically fixed his sheets for you.
Since you already felt like you had asked for too much, you decided to skip your nightly shower and head straight to bed. It was hard to sleep in a stranger’s bed, though—no matter how pretty he was.
You were used to kindness. It normally came in a package deal with being attractive. Bees flocked to honey; humans flocked to beauty.
This feeling, however, wasn’t something you were used to. Genuine kindness with no ulterior motive was almost foreign, which was upsetting to admit. You weren’t sure how to sort out your feelings, but all you knew was that Jaemin’s eyes had stars in them, and you were tempted to lose yourself in them.
Tumblr media
You woke up to an empty house.
Even the dog had abandoned you.
To be fair, you weren’t exactly an early bird. You woke up at around 10:30 a.m. naturally, and then spent an extra thirty minutes trying to muster up the willpower to get out of bed. Of course, you spent that time updating your group chat on your whereabouts.
gigi: 15k isn’t that insane?
gyu: holy shit gyu: you have to do it
karibear: gigi i will literally kill you and then resurrect you to kill you again if you don’t
gigi: check out the deliverables tho gigi: [File Attachment]
hyuck: instagram story highlight? the fuck? hyuck: a tiktok should be enough. more people check tiktok than ig now anyways lol
gigi: right???
karibear: OK BUT FIFTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS
y/n: just caught up. I think you should do it for the $$ gigi
gigi: GIRL where have u been
gyu: i told you she probably overslept
gigi: BUT I SEE HER LOCATION ON FINDMYFRIENDS gigi: SHE IS NOT HOME
y/n: i may or may not be in a cute guy’s apartment
karibear: shut the fuck up
y/n: stop he’s REALLY cute y/n: dare i say cuter than jeno
hyuck: stfu ur kidding
gyu: well?? did you sleep with him? gyu: give us all the details
y/n: no i couldn’t find my key after coming back from jeno’s and was locked out of my apartment y/n: so this “na jaemin” appears and lets me sleep over at his place for the night  y/n: he took the couch AND let me sleep on his bed y/n: jeno could never
gyu: aww that’s actually rlly sweet
gigi: can’t find him on ig ://
karibear: no social media presence?? karibear: idk if that’s hot or a red flag
hyuck: probably both 💀
y/n: um good thing red’s my favorite color
karibear: omfg karibear: do u actually wanna fuck him karibear: send us a picture of what he looks like
y/n: idk if he’s even interested in me like that y/n: but idk i also want my internet famous trophy boyfriend :( y/n: idk if this guy even has a social media presence  y/n: still a starboy in my heart tho <3
hyuck: keep your eye on the prize bbyg hyuck: fame is fleeting so milk it while you can
You figured Donghyuck had a point. You were an internet celebrity (to some extent), so, in terms of marketing, it would be wise to push the “unattainable” image you cemented. Dating someone equally as unattainable would make you look even more desirable.
However, you were starting to lose all rhyme and reason when you walked out of the bedroom to see a plate of eggs and toast waiting for you on the kitchen counter.
A post-it note was right next to it, reading: I’m out walking the dog. I made you some breakfast if you’re hungry but you don’t have to eat it. Door auto locks so just make sure you close it whenever you leave. Here’s my phone number if you need anything. +82 x-xxxx-xxxx - Jaemin
You decided to update your group chat.
y/n: change of plans y/n: i’m making starboy mine
Tumblr media
When Jaemin returned home shortly after you discovered his note, you were sitting on his couch, knees tucked to your chest as you forked down the waffles he made. Before you even looked up to greet him, you heard his dog yapping excitedly, hurrying over to sniff you.
“Oh, you’re still here.” He looked genuinely surprised, though he didn’t object. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah, really well,” you admitted. Curious, you tilted your head and let your lips curl into a knowing smile. “Are you high?”
Jaemin stiffened up. “Uh, a little. Is it that obvious?”
“I just noticed your eyes look sort of dazed.”
You hadn’t expected it, but he almost sounded embarrassed to be caught. “I’m not like a… a full-on stoner or anything.”
“Hey, no judgment,” you replied, holding up your hands in surrender. “I was just gonna ask if I could get high with you, too.”
After visibly relaxing, a more confident grin dawned on Jaemin’s face as he handed you his pen. You couldn’t help but feel smug as you accepted it gingerly.
Tumblr media
About a couple hours later, you and Jaemin were blazed out of your minds. He had offered you an edible shortly after you took a hit from his pen, and it kicked in an hour later for you and Jaemin. There were no words exchanged for a while, but then you two started to converse, although you couldn’t trust that anything you were saying made sense.
You weren’t big on flirting. It was a skill you only put to use when absolutely needed, and this was one of those instances. You figured this was the perfect opportunity to get close to Jaemin. Even though you could tell he was a really, really great guy, and you didn’t want to rush things with Jaemin, there were a few factors that were making you throw your morals to the wind.
For one, you were high and getting incredibly horny.
The other factor was that Jaemin was the hottest man you had ever seen (and you had encountered a lot of attractive men).
“So,” he started, “you’re, like, an internet celebrity? Like a TikToker?”
“I started on Twitter,” you explained, “but, yeah, I’m famous on TikTok, too. But there’s a good chance you’ve never heard of me.”
“Really? Why?”
“I’m known for more, uh”—you let out a nervous giggle—“risqué stuff, if you wanna see.” When he nodded eagerly, you took out your phone and opened Twitter to show Jaemin your account. Right off the bat, there was a mirror selfie of you in lingerie and cat ears. Because you were feeling bold, you added, “And the guy who made me walk home alone? He’s a famous YouTuber named Jeno.”
Something seemed to click for Jaemin when you mentioned Jeno’s name because it was the only thing that snapped him out of whatever trance he was in. He had been looking at the photo of you so intently that you were wondering if he was checking you out or spacing out.
“I think I’ve watched some of his gaming videos,” he said before handing your phone back to you. “He just… kicked you out?”
“Pretty much. At least he made me cum once.”
“Just once?”
You held your breath for a moment. With those two words, Jaemin made the atmosphere all the more tense, and you felt like you two were suspended in time. Although you weren’t sure if he said that to challenge Jeno or not, there was still a strange implication in his words. It left you wondering if Jaemin could treat you better.
“Yeah,” you replied in a quieter voice. “Just once. With my help, too.”
“That’s fucked.” Jaemin reached for his pen to take a long, slow drag. He held it in his lungs for a moment before he parted his lips to blow the smoke out. “And you dressed up so pretty for him.”
Either Jaemin was a secret dark horse when it came to smooth talking or the weed was making him horny, too. Whatever it was, his comments made your cheeks burn.
“I bet he’d be pissed if he found out I ended up in your bed after.”
The animal science major flushed at your words, growing even more shy when you giggled at his reaction. “I mean, I guess so, but we didn’t, like… I mean, we—”
“I was kidding,” you assured. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t say that unless something actually happened.”
Jaemin nodded quietly, falling back into silence for a while. You were worried that you had made the conversation awkward, so you sunk back against the couch and willed yourself to come down from your high. Maybe the weed was a bad idea. Maybe you were just getting ahead of—
“So, you wouldn’t be opposed if something were to happen?”
The question took you off-guard, and you had to process Jaemin’s words for a few moments before you sat up to look at him. There was no shame or shyness drawn across his face this time. Just pure curiosity. (And perhaps a hint of longing which was most likely brought on by the weed.)
You shook your head with a hum. “No, I wouldn’t be opposed.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I think you’re cute. You seem really sweet, too, like letting me sleep over and making me breakfast.”
Jaemin smiled brightly, beaming ear to ear before he ducked his head shyly. You were surprised that he was so sheepish given his godsent looks. He had to have heard these compliments about a million times now. There was no way you were the first person to recognize his looks.
“I’m not good at this,” he admitted.
“Good at what?”
“Um, hitting on girls,” Jaemin said. His hand flew to rub the back of his neck as he added, “Cute girls.” After another beat, he let his head hang and then let out a groan. “Sorry, I don’t have a filter when I’m high.”
“Jaemin,” you cooed, scooting close enough so that your knees were touching. You placed your hand on his thigh, which made him finally look you in the eyes. “I’m pretty bad at flirting, too, so I hope this is working.”
The corner of his lip hitched up, amused. “Yeah,” Jaemin murmured, his eyes unfocusing as he leaned in close, “it’s definitely working.”
Your nose brushed against his experimentally before Jaemin pressed his lips to yours. It was gentle and innocent, but then Jaemin turned his body to face yours, and his hands started roaming your body. Your waist, your back, your hips—not an inch was neglected while he felt you up. You let slip a hum of delight, and that encouraged Jaemin to slip his tongue past your lips.
He didn’t use too much tongue, which you appreciated. There was something too sloppy about guys who used too much tongue, but Jaemin had an excellent balance between precise and hasty. And he did this thing where he would pause to suck on your tongue and then your bottom lip, which you really appreciated.
You let a whine slip, and Jaemin gripped your waist tighter. You figured he wanted you on his lap, so you threw one leg over his thigh and straddled him. It was like you were in a trance with how receptive you were, and you only wanted more when Jaemin pulled away to kiss down your neck. After minutes of nipping, sucking, and relishing your whimpers, he was satisfied with the bruises littered across your skin.
Jaemin seemed frustrated by how big his hoodie was on you, so he tugged at it until you pulled it up and over your head. After discarding it to the side, his lips found yours immediately after. The pads of his fingers slipped past the hem of your shirt to dig into your skin, pulling you flush against his body.
You were sure you could kiss him for hours, but your attention was slipping away when you felt his boner underneath you. The very least you could do was offer to help him out.
You pulled away to catch your breath, and your voice was no louder than a breath when you offered, “Let me suck you off.”
Jaemin blushed a little, and you bit back a smile because how could someone be so forward and cute? He was not innocent in the slightest, but he somehow got flustered so easily.
His voice came out strangled when he said, “Please.”
You carefully peeled off Jaemin’s shirt, admiring his muscles as you revealed his bare skin. He had to work out regularly to get a build this good, but you didn’t expect him to be this ripped. It was almost second nature when you started kissing down his chest, smiling when you heard his happy sigh.
When your kisses reached his stomach, you started tugging at the band of his sweatpants. Jaemin carded his fingers through your hair to keep you where he wanted to, and you were pretty sure all his blood was rushing to his cock with how much bigger he got. You tugged his sweatpants down to his knees and kissed up his strong thigh, looking up at him through your lashes. You wanted Jaemin to know just how drunk you were on his body.
Jaemin helped you tug down his boxers, too, and you swallowed hard when you saw how huge he was. His cock sprung up, and you were almost worried that you wouldn’t be able to take all of him in. While you were tying up your hair, Jaemin gave his shaft a few pumps, rubbing his thumb across the precum that beaded his slit.
A few strands of your hair got in your face, so Jaemin brushed them back and held your hair in his fist, undoing your ponytail so that he could tie back your hair properly. He looked down at you expectantly, cradling your jaw while you were mentally preparing yourself to take him. You flattened your tongue and ran it along the side of his cock, licking right where his vein was. Jaemin let out a groan almost instantly, and you looked up to see his eyes burning molten hot with desire.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he growled, gripping the back of your head.
His cock was throbbing, aching for you to take more of him in. So you slid your tongue over his head before hollowing your cheeks to suck him in. Jaemin gritted his teeth and tilted his head back, muttering some profanity that only encouraged you further.
You went slow at first, drawing out each bob of your head so that you got used to his size. You couldn’t go all the way down on him without his head hitting the back of your throat, making you gag a little before you started to properly take him down your throat. Jaemin started thrusting his hips into your mouth, urging you to go faster. You weren’t sure if that meant he was going to cum soon, but you sped up regardless.
“Fuck,” Jaemin rasped out, watching you with absolute admiration in his blown-out eyes, “I’m gonna cum.”
His grip on your hair loosened, as if he was ready to let you pull off of him, but you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes while you sucked harder. You wanted him to cum in your mouth, and he seemed to get the message because his moan was cut off by his orgasm.
You continued to suck on his cock while he came, swallowing without hesitation. Jaemin thrusted shallowly inside your mouth, his husky moans making you pull off him to lick a long stripe down his length.
The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, catching your breaths and watching each other’s chest rise and fall. Then, Jaemin leaned in to cup your cheek and kiss you once more. He didn’t even care that he was tasting himself on your lips, but he just needed more of you.
“Let me return the favor,” he said once he pulled away. Before you could respond, Jaemin scooped you up in his strong arms. You held onto his biceps, gasping when he held your bottom firmly. “I promise I’ll make you feel really good.”
Jaemin set you on the cool granite surface of the kitchen counter, and you were glad that he kept the place clean. You would have felt gross if it was any other man, like Jeno’s grimey kitchen counter littered with dirty dishes, but you were too wrapped up in your own lust to care about moving to Jaemin’s bed.
Being high made you so sensitive that every touch from Jaemin left you trembling. As he undressed you, you couldn’t help but shudder and gasp whenever his fingers brushed over a sensitive area. He seemed to take notice, which you observed by his small smirk. As soon as Jaemin got rid of your garments, leaving you naked, he sucked in a sharp breath.
“Gorgeous,” he praised, leaning forward to take your nipple in his mouth. He sucked on the supple skin eagerly, making you moan and grab at his shoulder.
You let out a gasp when Jaemin grabbed your other breast in his hand, squeezing firmly and running his thumb along the nipple. After he decided he showed your chest enough attention, Jaemin started kissing down your stomach until he reached the apex of your thighs. He trailed kisses along your pelvis, peppering more along the top of your thighs, and you used your elbows to balance your weight on the counter. You were surely going to collapse if he kept going.
“Jaem,” you whined, “don’t tease.”
He smirked as he parted your legs even further, humming inquisitively at the sight of your soaked cunt. He lifted both of your legs and settled them on each of his shoulders, and you sucked in a sharp breath to prepare yourself.
Jaemin dipped his head and ran his flattened tongue along your folds, and god, you were floating high up in the clouds.
After some strokes of his tongue, Jaemin stiffened his tongue to lick deeper, parting your slit so that he could ravage your cunt. You couldn’t do anything but cry out his name, begging for more and more. Your engorged clit was soon aching for attention, and you became a complete mess as soon as Jaemin’s lips found your little ball of nerves.
Soon, Jaemin was holding your hips down as he ate you out like a man starved. You had never experienced pleasure so intense, and you were finding it hard to believe that the meek boy you met last night was this bold. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer even though his face was practically wet with your arousal.
“I-I’m close,” you breathed out, and your hips were struggling to grind down to meet Jaemin’s tongue. You wanted more—no, you needed more.
“I know,” he whispered against your thigh, and before you could beg, he snaked his tongue in your entrance, allowing your walls to clench and unclench around his hot muscle.
He used his fingers to rub your clit in small, tight circles, all the while eating you out so vigorously that you couldn’t even think about anything except Jaemin. How good he made you feel. How lucky you were to be under him.
You were drowning soon after—drowning in utmost bliss. A toe-curling orgasm shook your body, leaving your back arching against the kitchen counter. You couldn’t even process how loud your moan was until Jaemin was shushing you gently, abusing your clit throughout your orgasm while his other hand was clamped over your mouth.
“Shh,” he cooed, almost mocking you. “The walls are thin, doll.”
You nodded, looking up at him with glazed-over eyes. You just needed to focus on anything to keep you at bay, to keep you from being pulled under the current of your climax.
“Gonna carry you to the bed, okay?” he told you, and you nodded without a second thought, letting him princess carry you to his bedroom.
As soon as he laid you down gently, Jaemin leveled his cock at your entrance, running his head along the folds of your cunt. You were already exhausted from your previous orgasm, but you were still eager to feel Jaemin inside of you.
“I’ll go slow,” he assured, teasing the tip of his cock inside you so gently that you were about to fall apart. You had no more than an inch inside of you, and your walls were already clenching hard around him.
Your eyes rolled back when he pushed deeper inside you, and then soon he was bottoming out, and you could feel his thighs pressed against yours. The cry that left your lips and the groan that escaped his nearly sounded like a melody in your eyes. Each wave of pleasure made you feel like you were traveling light years past several galaxies. Stars pinpricked your vision, but you could make out Jaemin’s face among the collisions of supernovas.  
“I can’t,” you whimpered, unable to form proper, coherent sentences. “Fast—go faster.”
Something primal glinted in Jaemin’s dark eyes, and started ramming into you while holding your hips tight. His head dipped to ravage your neck, kissing and sucking as he pleased while his cock hit that perfect spot that made you see white spots in your vision. You felt a ripple of pleasure shoot under your skin.
And something else must have snapped in Jaemin because he started spewing absolute filth in your ears, and lord, was it making you lose your mind.
“I’m the best you’ve had, aren’t I?” he asked with brimming confidence, opting for sharp and precise thrusts.
You half-nodded, your cheek pressing against the pillow as your nails raked down Jaemin’s back. But Jaemin didn’t appreciate your lack of words.
“Come on, Y/N,” he pressed, “say it.” He pressed his lips to your ear and nibbled on the shell. You squirmed when you felt his hot breath fan your neck. “C’mon, I haven’t fucked you dumb already, right?”
You managed to cry out, “Y-yes, Jaemin! I’ve… I’ve never felt this good.”
He cupped your cheek and rubbed gently with his thumb, smiling down at you so kindly that it felt condescending. “Yeah? You gonna cum for me, then?”
You felt those ripples of pleasure intensify, and soon they were rising to a crescendo. You felt like you were being split apart on Jaemin’s cock, and it didn’t help that he refused to slow down before you orgasmed. You bucked your hips against him, eager to chase the pleasure that was just in your reach.
And, after Jaemin pressed his lips against yours, all of the stars in the night sky collided and exploded into nothingness.
You felt your orgasm tear through you, immobilizing you with blinding pleasure. You gasped and gripped the sheets tightly, praying that you could hold on for dear life. Jaemin slowly fucked you through your orgasm, your clenching walls bringing him to pull out of you and let his cum spill onto your stomach.
Jaemin let out a shaky sigh of contentment, and he quickly returned to your side without giving himself time to recover. Instead of basking in post orgasm glow, Jaemin aided your ongoing climax by rubbing your clit in slow, torturous circles.
“I got you,” he crooned, pressing gentle kisses to your cheeks. “I got you, doll.”
You were a whimpering, moaning mess underneath him, and you couldn’t think of anything but Jaemin as you writhed. After a few more aftershocks of pleasure (all thanks to Jaemin, of course), you finally started returning to your senses. It was possible that Jaemin had actually fucked you dumb.
He hurried to his feet to clean you up. It was a stark contrast from how he acted in bed, but your heart melted when he made sure you got enough water before he tucked you in bed. No guy had ever taken his time with aftercare for you, so you were starting to feel like being kicked out of Jeno’s apartment was a stroke of luck.
Later, he moved to lay down next to you, kissing the top of your head as he slid in. You wrapped your arm around him and you two were eventually a mess of tangled limbs.
“Can I stay?” you asked, somewhat nervous that he would ask you to leave soon.
“Of course,” he replied, easing your nerves with a gentle smile, “you can stay for as long as you want.” You cuddled close to him, burying your face into his chest, and then you heard him ask, “How do you feel?”
You smiled. “Like a star.”
2K notes · View notes
kz-i-co · 10 months
Text
Don’t Fall In Love: Part 5
Tumblr media
Summary: You are one of the most popular bloggers on your campus, telling enriching stories of your personal heartbreaks anonymously. But your readers are not ready to handle the newest heartbreak of finding out your best friend dating your ex.
Paring: Lee Haechan (Donghyuck) x f!reader
Genre: college au | angst x smut
Warning: story may contain strong language, mentions of drugs and alcohol - sexual references - reader discretion advise.
Words: 5k
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Masterlist | Nct 127 Masterlist | Nct Dream Masterlist
Taglist: @lovingvoidgoatee, @lunaryoongie, @matchahyuck, @yixingtion, @mosviqu, @ohmyhuenings, @nctzennikki09, @rosiejunnie, @roxyvogue, @5seos, @aaphroditeprjde, @fullsunkist, @emvrd, @atinypurr​, @liliansun​
::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #56 I hope you guys are enjoying my beautiful story telling because my career is over. I know I'm being dramatic but wouldn't you? I felt fear that I never felt before - that everything was gonna blow up and force me away from the people I love. I don't like this feeling. In fact I hate this feeling and I wish it would go away.... :::
"Umm - yeah." You didn't know what to say - you were busted.
"Why is it at Haechan's place?" She grew frustrated.
"Actually....Jaemin gave it to me. She must of forgotten it at his dorm." Donghyuck saved you once again when he probably shouldn't.
"You really are hooking up with Jaemin? I was hoping you were joking." She said even more frustrated.
"Guilty." You pursed your lips. "Thanks for bringing it." You said as Minjeong practically dragged him into your apartment changing your girls night immediately. "No really thanks." You said with more attitude the minute Minjeong stepped away to gather some drinks.
"Don't mention it....Ever." He rolled his eyes. "Keep track of your shit."
You huffed as you took your purse wanting to admit defeat and go to bed. "You don't mind if he joins our movie marathon do you?"
"No of course not." You smiled.
"I don't know, I think I really should get going, I have studying to do." Donghyuck rubbed his neck nervously from the accidental invite.
"Aww, just one movie." Minjeong begged.
"Yeah....sure." You could see the frustration in his expression as soon as she made her way over to the couch.
You tried to keep cool as you payed attention to the movie. Donghyuck was to your right as Minjeong was to his right laying on his shoulder. You wanted anything to get out of this situation. Fake sick? Pretend to fall asleep? Anything?
You were ready to tell Minjeong the truth but now it was much harder with him here. What should you do? You didn't like confrontation especially when it could have a bad outcome.
"This movie is really scary huh?" You spoke up getting ready to leave.
"Yeah." Minjeong spoke through a yawn.
Donghyuck moved slightly to get more comfortable, accidentally brushing over your bare thigh but immediately retracted and moved the blanket more covering him and Minjeong. You didn't know why but the slight contact gave you chills alone and you wanted nothing more than to pounce on top of him but you had self control.
::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #56 How far must I go? How far will this lie go until I can't take it anymore. Because by this point my relationship with my best friend is over. I betrayed her - I betrayed myself. And I'm officially done - Xoxo peace :::
You felt yourself move closer and closer to Donghyuck that you didn't even realize your hand making it's way under the blanket to a place you probably shouldn't. Self control was overrated.
But you did it anyway and his immediate reaction wasn't to stop you. "(Y/N)." He whispered next to you and you just smirked in response.
"Hmm?" You bit your lip as you rubbed more steady already feeling him grow underneath you. You were just lucky that Minjeong gets so focused into movies, unless you would've already been caught.
You heard him groan and fake a cough as he finally grabbed your hand stopping you. "Everything alright?" Minjeong asked as you froze from your hand still on top of his growing member.
"Oh yeah."
"I'm sorry I doze off a little." She giggled.
"If you're tired, you can go to bed." He said sweetly.
"Only if you join me." She said to both of your surprise which just made you more and more upset.
She was dying to sleep with him and it almost sounded desperate by this point and the worst part was Donghyuck was clearly avoiding it. Was it because of you?
"I can go to my room if you guys want." You tried hard not to sound disappointed.
"Oh no (Y/N) - I'll try to stay awake." She spoke and you all just settled back into a comfortable standby, except the fact you were still resting on his thigh without even noticing it moving closer.
Once things were settled again, he looked over at you and you just acted like nothing was wrong.
"What are you doing?" He whispered.
"You started it." You fought back.
"How did I start it?"
"You touched my leg."
"That was an accident." He said in self defense but couldn't help but smirk to himself.
At this point you couldn't tell if it was natural or he meant it because smirking was just part of his everyday face and he probably does it in his sleep but in this case you still felt he did purposely and he wanted you to suffer when he most likely knew, touching him was forbidden at the moment but jokes on him thinking you were scared.
"Sure it was."
"Shall I make some popcorn?" You asked raising your voice and waiting for Minjeong to responde.
"She's asleep?" Donghyuck answered.
"Hmm." You leaned back getting comfortable once again.
"Don't even think about it (Y/N)." He whispered next to you once again as you just started making your hand under the blanket again.
"What? She's asleep." He looked at you questionable. "You know I was gonna tell her everything - until your ass knocked on the door." You pouted.
"Really?"
"I think it's obvious I want you back." You flirted rubbing him once again. You kept apologizing in your head the moment you pulled him out from underneath the blanket. You constantly felt regret with every action but you just couldn't help it - you wanted him. You weren't sure how Donghyuck was feeling but he seemed to let you do whatever you wanted so maybe he still had feelings for you too. You wanted to know - you needed to know.
He softly moaned and leaned his head back as you picked up your motions.
"Hmm? What do you say?" You flirted some more. "Like things never changed."
"We can't (Y/N)." He leaned back up to look at you as your speed slowed down. You heard him sigh from the look on your face. "I told you...We can't just get back together....Minjeong will be too upset."
"Do you even want me at all? Even after everything?" You took your hand back as your tone sounded bothered.
"I don't want to talk about it right now." He shifted putting himself back together, clearly uncomfortable from leaving him hanging.
"Just say yes or no Hyuck."
"Yes (Y/N)." He whispered louder but was quick to tone it down. "Can we just watch the movie?"
He wanted you as bad as you wanted him. You couldn't help but smile just thinking about it. But he was right - after everything, you couldn't just get back together in these conditions - if Minjeong knew the truth or not, it would be too difficult.
"First thing tomorrow morning." You spoke and leaned your head against his other shoulder.
"What's that?" He looked down at you.
"I'm gonna tell her everything." You looked up at him.
"Everything?"
You nodded and he pursed his lips thinking for a moment and looked down at your lips slightly leaning in but was hesitant before turning away.
"I'm gonna get going." He started to move making you sit up straight and watched him help Minjeong lay down against the pillow that rested against the arm chair.
"Are you sure you don't want to just sleep here? It's past 1."
"I'll be fine - I only live a few blocks away." He smirked. "You worried about me now?" He grabbed some of the soda cans and made his way to the kitchen.
"Of course not." You smiled as you grabbed the garbage helping clean up as well.
"I don't know how tomorrow is gonna go but if you want to stay with Minjeong - you have my permission."
"Are you throwing yourself a pity party?" He asked with his eyebrows arched in amusement.
"What? No...." You said tossing the garbage in the trash.
"I just told you I wanted you." He said leaning closer.
"Well.....knowing you, I wasn't sure if you just told me what I wanted to hear to shut me up."
"You're right I do, do that a lot." He smirked again.
"You're so annoying." You said playfully.
"It's not my fault you never shut up." You made of face of amusement causing him to smile sweetly - a smile you will never want to go away.
"So you want me still? Even after I was a terrible girlfriend." You leaned up against him that you could practically feel his breath against your lips.
"Well you admitted you were wrong so...-" He shrugged.
"I was so wrong." You spoke before finally filling in the empty space.
You would never get used to kissing him - like every time was the first over and over again. Refreshing. You could sense the desperation within his that you already wanted to drag him to your bedroom but you know this couldn't go further tonight - not again while Minjeong was literally a few feet away. And especially not here in this kitchen again or you will never hear the end from Jimin.
You pulled away slightly catching your breath. "I want you to fuck me so bad."
"We can't."
"I know." You could hear the disappointment in your voice. "But I'll think about it tonight."
He groaned. "You can't just say that shit."
"Why does it turn you on?" You started trailing your hand down to his evident bulge.
You reached in kissing him again until you heard Minjeong groan immediately pulling you both apart.
You both looked in her direction to see her getting up and stretching before opening her eyes yawning. "I'm going to bed....are you staying the night Channie?"
"Oh um- I think I'm just gonna head home."
"Goodnight baby....goodnight (Y/N)." She spoke on her way to her room.
"Night." You both said in unison.
"She's like a zombie when's she's sleepy." You giggled.
"Yeah." He said more serious to your surprise. "I'll see you tomorrow (Y/N)."
"There's really no convincing you to stay? You can just leave before she wakes up?" You were practically begging.
"Minjeong wakes up before the both of us."
"I can come over and stay with you then?" You just didn't want to leave him by this point.
He smiled at you sweetly. "Maybe next time." He approached the door but you didn't let him off the hook that easy as you kissed him like it was the last time.
"Just in case that was the last time."
::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #57 I'm walking on eggshells here....what to do now? I love him and he confessed he still loves me but does that mean we can get back together? I'm gonna tell her everything- I owe her.... Especially during this risky game I'm playing with D since we can't keep off each other- even when my best friend is around....like playing a game of hide and seek. She was asleep right? She didn't see anything....right? :::
"On second thought - maybe it is pretty late." He said closing the door behind him and you smirked dragging him to your room.
This was so wrong on so many levels but you loved him and he loved you and it just felt right.
"I fucking hate you right now." He said bringing his lips towards yours as your bedroom door was shut and locked behind you.
"Why? Because I'm irresistible." You smirked again.
"You're so fucking irresistible." He pulled you up as he carried you to your bed laying you down and immediately towering over you as his lips were placed on yours. You thought the last time was an act of desperation but this took the whole cake.
It didn't feel as risky in here which gave you both more room to play with your hormones. The only problem was you still had to manage to stay quiet because there was no explanation this time and Minjeong wasn't drunk to keep her asleep.
Donghyuck always had a talent of leaving chills trailing down your body with just a brush of his lips, from your lips to your neck and even now your hip where he was currently removing your shorts, along with your thin lace panties.
God...you missed this.
The only thing you didn't miss though, was how much of a tease Donghyuck was. He loved to pleasure everywhere but where you needed him most and at the moment your impatience was wearing thin. "Hyuck Please." You begged causing him to chuckle.
"I'll get there." He sucked above your clit some more as you felt his fingers slowly explore your folds. "Is this where you want me?"
"Hyuck." You warned again.
He smirked before moving where you wanted him and sucking your weak spot causing you to immediately moan out. "You need to stay quiet if you want me to continue."
"I'm trying."
He hummed against you before continuing his slow pleasurable movements that you regret even starting since you had no self control in the tone of your voice. You bit your fist trying to hold back but you were screaming on the inside. To make matters worse he pushed two fingers into you causing your vision to daze and you knew you weren't gonna last long at this rate. He always knew how to work his fingers and you were only getting the subtle version on what he could really do.
"Oh my fucking gosh." You cried as you felt your climax to hit any second now.
"Too much?" You can hear the smirk in his voice.
"Don't you dare fucking stop or I'll will actually kill you." You complained from his sudden holt.
The teaser will always be a teaser.
He enjoyed your suffering too much so he continued giving you exactly what you wanted and not too long, you were screaming into your pillow as your high was taking over in probably the best orgasm you've had in a long time. Donghyuck still taking the throne as your best contender....sorry Jaemin.
"You still want me to stay?" He asked sweetly hovering over you, surprising you once again since he was just purposely teasing you seconds before.
"More than you know."
"Are you sure?"
"Donghyuck if you don't stay here and fuck me, I will make your life miserable." You grabbed his buckle and undoing his zipper once again and was quick to pull him out. You gave him a few pumps before guiding him to your needy area.
Once he pushed in, your walls were already clenching from being extra sensitive. "Fuck." He moaned against you and started kissing down your neck. He was working against you in a slow steady motion but once you loosened up, he didn't hesitate to pick up the pace.
"Oh f-fff." You bit your tongue from crying out.
You may have succeeded in being quiet but the soft moans and heavy breathing were enough to concern you, especially now since the soft creak in your bed was your newest issue.
"Hyuck....maybe we should- oh fuck." The pleasure was blinding you.
"What's wrong?" He kissed down your chest.
"It's just-" He was hitting the perfect spot that you couldn't stop him now. "Nothing...."
You moved your hands down his back and pushing his pants to finally pool on the floor leaving him only in his tshirt. He was much quicker than you having you bare underneath him and leaving marks on your exposed chest.
You both were lost in the moment that you didn't even realized the room light up from the only light source that was coming from under the door. "Wait wait wait."
"Hmm?" Donghyuck didn't stop as you stared to the right at the now visible light coming from the hallway. "What?"
You both heard a door slam and the light suddenly turning off. You knew Jimin said she wasn't coming home tonight so it had to be Minjeong.
Did she hear you? No....she couldn't have.
"She was probably using the bathroom." He spoke.
"Shhh." You tried to listen closer but heard nothing. "Maybe you're right.....try to keep it quiet." You teased.
"Me? Really?" He arched his eyebrows as he started rocking against you again.
"I'm not the one making the bed creak."
"Maybe you need a new bed." He sassily responded.
"You're so annoying."
"Good." You grabbed his shirt making him lean down and kiss you again as he gyrated his hips in a sensual manner making your stomach erupt with butterflies.
"Oh my god.....that's it." You moaned making him chuckle against your neck. He love hearing you so vocal.
You didn't know he constantly found your weak spot making you twitch sporadically. "I'm close." You cried softly.
"Hold on baby." He picked up the pace that had you in a fear of not only getting caught but more moans to slip out accidentally.
You felt like any minute, Minjeong was gonna come pound on your door about to expose the both of you.
The risky game was fun but also terrifying.
His movements became unsteady that you couldn't hold on any longer and laid there letting your pleasure take over. He stopped and quickly pulled out, letting his juices cover your stomach. His soft moans causing another stir in your stomach from just how attractive he is.
"Sorry, I wasn't sure if you took your pill or not."
"I did but I couldn't help but noticed you didn't ask me last night." You teased.
"Maybe I was expecting you to speak up first."
"You should learn not to assume." You flirted. "But it's easy to say I never miss a day." He got up grabbing a towel to clean you off.
Once he settled and laid down next to you, he pulled you from behind into a spooning position.
"I missed you." You said softly.
"I know." He spoke bringing his lips towards the back of your neck.
"Do you miss me?"
"Of course." His voice sounded more low, probably already falling asleep.
You wiggled wanting to be as close to him as possible. "(Y/N)." He warned. "Stop moving."
"Whats wrong? You don't want to go again?" You teased.
"You exhaust me."
"Because I'm irresistible?" You giggled.
"Yes baby....now go to sleep." He said practically asleep but you turned around and cuddled into his chest finally letting sleep overcome you as well. You missed times like this where you two could just sleep and cuddle and not worry about anything else in the world.
That is until tomorrow...
- ::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #57 I'm ready....I'm ready to unfold everything of this badly written dumb twilight fanfic I have created. Okay so maybe I'm being dramatic..... but I never felt more terrified about anything in my life. I thought I left all this drama behind in high school but here we are in a new open canvas I would like to call my life. Thank you God. Barely a month ago I was pining over J - a fuckboy who didn't want me... and crying over D like a stupid jealous ex who probably couldn't stand me and vice versa. What has happened? Why did you make me fall in love with you again - well I never fell out of but you get my point. Why are you here making my life a mess again? Why are you here making me feel like an asshole for even breaking up with you. Why am I here ruining everything? I'm sure by now the people in my life know who I am and ready to confront me because this kind of shit doesn't just happen to anyone......it only happens to shits like me.....but hey at least it makes for good story telling.....especially to my kids one day. I'm sorry to everyone I hurt, especially you my best friend who will probably hate me by the end of today....just know that I love you and I'm sorry for what I did and didn't do. Well.....that's it for now - I'll let you know who decided to stick around in my fucked up life after I spill the beans. Hopefully I'll be okay to even continue this blog...thank you guys for listening. Xoxo peace. :::
"Morning." You yawned grabbing a cup of coffee as Jimin was on her laptop doing work. "What are you doing up so early?"
"My term paper is due tomorrow." She spoke taking a sip of coffee as well.
"Shit, so is mine." You rolled your eyes not wanting to process this day. "I hate Sundays."
"Being dramatic already are we?" Jimin laughed.
"We have classes again tomorrow." Jimin just laughed some more. "Is Minjeong still sleeping?"
"Oh no - she went over to "Channies" for breakfast." She giggled keeping up with the lie as well. Donghyuck was gone when you woke up but you didn't know how early since you also liked to sleep late.
"So you haven't told her yet?" Jimin broke your train of thought.
"I was going to last night but he showed up and I didn't know how to with him there."
"That would of probably been the best time to (with him there)."
"It's my lie though - I rather tell her alone." You confirmed.
"Alright - just make it quick because things are taking off."
"Are they?" You asked still feeling questionable.
"Well that was until you two started sleeping together behind her back." Jimin shrugged nonchalantly.
"It was once- twice....and maybe last night - but it's not happening again until I tell her this time."
"That so? I was wondering why I caught him sneaking out this morning." Your face went pale. "Relax, Minjeong was still sleeping."
You sighed. "Just say it Jimin.....I know you're thinking it."
"I'm not saying anything." She shrugged.
"Call me a slut, bad friend, homewrecker.....I know." You scoffed. "I already hate myself because of it."
"You're in a tough spot right now." She shrugged stepping away from her laptop. "Tell her the truth first.......then we'll see what happens - you at least owe her that."
"I just don't know what to do.....I can't lose them both."
"Well, we don't know anything yet.....Minjeong is a pretty forgiving person." She smiled softly. "But in the meantime....maybe you two need to stay away from each other."
"It's so bad Ji - I never wanted him more than I ever had." You whined.
"It's because he's 'unavailable'.....you want what you can't have. It's a mental desire." She spoke. "But he's giving into it as well which is probably making it harder for the both of you."
"Morning ladies." Minjeong came through the door perky and even bought breakfast for the two of you.
"Why are you so happy?" Jimin asked.
"Nothing." She shrugged. "I think I'm gonna give myself to Channie tonight."
"Give yourself?" You asked.
"You know.....give up my virginity." She took a deep breath before smiling.
"Really?" Jimin said side eyeing you.
"Yeah. He's been a little distant lately so maybe this will be the thing we need to jump into the next step." She sighed. "I've been hesitant because I don't want to come off desperate but I can't take it anymore....I'm gonna go for it tonight."
"I'm afraid of him getting bored because I'm not giving him any." She continued shrugging.
"I'm sure he's getting plenty." Jimin slipped causing you to nudge her.
"He asked me to dinner tonight so I think it will be a perfect time." She smiled some more. "I promise I will keep it down unless it hurts as much as they say than I'm sorry."
You turned your back opening the fridge. You didn't know how to hide your emotions this time. You figured this was the test to find out Donghyuck's true feelings on what he wants to do.
"Oh by the way.....do any of you have.....condoms?" She whispered like it was forbidden.
"He's a guy....he will have some - probably in his wallet." Jimin laughed but was quick to tone it down from how bothered you were.
"How do you know he's ready for that - you guys only been together for like 3 weeks." You spoke not turning around.
"You're the one that said guys are impatient and he's probably just being a gentleman - well I'm done waiting."
"I just want to make sure your first time is special that is all." You shrugged finally closing the fridge.
"I've been together with a guy for almost a month and want to sleep with him but you are the one who hooks up with guys left and right shamelessly and you expect me to listen to you?" She snapped.
She sighed as the silence was tense. "Look I'm sorry (Y/N) but I don't know what your deal is lately....you act like you're against relationships but now I feel it's only targeted towards Haechan - why don't you like him? He's been nothing but sweet to me, I just don't get it, I finally found a guy I like what's so wrong with that?"
You didn't know what to say and better yet - how were you suppose to tell her the truth now? She was angry at you already and she didn't even know the truth yet.
Minjeong started walking away and Jimin got up stopping her. "Wait, (Y/N) needs to tell you something."
Thanks Jimin.
"No offense but I really don't want to hear it." She spoke up.
"She's right, who should listen to me anyway." You said being the first to leave and go back to your room focusing only on your paper you needed to get done.
::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #58 I think it's time to call a quits. My so called best friend is 'there I say it' in love? Well? Maybe or maybe not but she definitely is on her way there more or less and she's not planning on leaving him anytime soon....I guess it's all up to D now and if he truly loves me like he said he does, and continue this love affair - but I'm done with all of it anyway. My heart is broken and I can't handle it anymore......I might need another vacay before I drown myself into a como:/ xoxo peace. :::
You needed a break from this damn paper with a nice refreshing can of redbull. The funny thing was you were sneaky about it, afraid Jimin was out and about, hogging the living room like earlier. You had enough of her continuous nagging and just wanted to crawl up into a ball and forget this day ever happened. "I told you to tell her the truth." Not like you felt shitty enough.
Target acquired and the coast was clear once you made your way to the fridge and opened it, reaching inside for your refreshing can that.....wasn't there. "Dammit Ji."
One thing you were looking forward to in this shit storm of a day with your pathetic paper that was due only in a few hours and all that was left was 400 words and all you wanted was your damn redbull. You reached in and grabbed her monster instead - not as good but it will suffice it's purpose you suppose.
You were just about to make a speedy exit towards your room until you heard the door slam shut, startling you more than it should.
You heart sank as soon as you saw Minjeong sniffling and tears down her face. "Oh hey." She said trying to show a smile.
"Hey." You were clearly hesitant seeing your friend so upset. "You okay?"
"Ah huh." She lied placing her keys on the counter. "Not really actually."
"Haechan broke up with me." She continued causing you to become speechless.
"What?"
"Hmm....yup."
"What happened?" You asked further.
She shrugged. "Everything seemed fine, we had a nice dinner - even kissed a little. I can tell something was bothering him though but I just figured he was stressing about the paper tomorrow." She wiped her tears with the sleeve of her sweater. "And then he just drove me home and said the 'we need to talk' and just like that we're over." She took a deep breath.
"I'm so sorry." You began.
"He said he couldn't get over his ex and he needs some time to be alone." Your heart skipped a beat. "Can you believe that."
This whole mess was really all your fault. But where did it all start? The night you broke up in the first place or the other night when you slept together. He seemed fine before when you both were tearing at each others throats but now you had to get in the middle and confusion everything all over again.
You wanted to tell her. You wanted her to know the truth but why does it seem like every time is the worst time. The truth now will admit that he is still in love with you.
"Now I know why you are so bitter with relationships. You aren't over your ex either....I wonder who his ex is? Maybe she's prettier than me."
"You can't think like that.....You will find someone else I promise."
"But he was so hot and funny and charming." She whined.
"There's tons of hot guys in this school - trust me." You spoke trying to reassure. "And funny ones."
"Maybe we can go to the club together and find someone."
"I'm done with that actually because I was thinking you were right - that lifestyle is too dangerous and I rather meet someone the safe way and so should you."
"But that clearly doesn't work." She whined some more.
"Yes it does - not every relationship is going to work out." You sighed. "There is a frat party tomorrow night, how about we go together."
"Okay." She nodded agreeing.
You had to go see Donghyuck. You need to know what was going on from his side. Your term paper was the farthest from your mind at this moment.
You got what you wanted but was it right? Are you a horrible person because of this? Maybe....
too be continued in the next part....
©property.of.kz-i-co  
186 notes · View notes
lebrookestore · 11 months
Text
oceans and engines | l.jn
Tumblr media
Pairing: Lee Jeno x reader
Themes: strangers to lovers, highschool! au, coming of age, lovers to exes, heavy angst, light fluff,  teenage romance, first love au
Warnings: profanity, mentions of food, heavy angst, underage alcohol consumption, underage substance consumption
Wc : 3.7k
Summary: Standing where the water meets the sand, you reminisce over a love you recently lost, one that you couldn’t help but let slip through your fingers like the very sand beneath your feet. 
Playlist: oceans and engines by niki, another love by tom odell, atlantis by seafret, consequences by camila cabello, meant to be by ber and charlie oriain, exile by taylor swift, emily by jeremy zucker and chelsea cutler, favorite crime by olivia rodrigo, flowers by lauren spencer smith, i should hate you by gracie abrams, partners in crime by finneas
Notes from brooke: i wrote this in a day and it’s been almost 8 months since i’ve been able to write like that, but with this short story, the moment i started, i physically could not stop. everything came out so naturally, and that is because it’s all true. i’ve changed details here and there to support continuity and such, and due to the fact that there are some things i cannot bring myself to write right now, i have omited a lot of the story. maybe one day in the future i’ll be able to write it out in its entirety or maybe i’ll delete this as well, but i wrote this fic to process my emotions, and maybe it might help someone else do the same. i hope you, dear reader, enjoy reading it<3
Tumblr media
You liked to think you were a patient lover.
The whispering of the waves cut through what would have been your reverie, jerking your mind back into its previous state of frantic overdrive. Seafoam swept over your bare feet as the ocean water washed off the sand stuck to your soles and carried it back out, only to bring it in again the next moment.
Patience is a virtue, people would say, along with other once-meaningless sayings such as Love is blind. Maybe sometime in the past, you would have laughed at the utterings of such phrases, sure of your sense of self-control and ability to see reality for what it was.
But you had been so very virtuous.
And when your moments of patience came back occasionally, you could still imagine his smile, the way the sides of his eyes crinkled and his lips pressed together to show off his unadulterated, infectious glee. Although fleeting, the thought of it still managed to bring a shallow smile to your mouth, before its sides fell back into forced indifference, an expression you had grown to master over the past few weeks.
Moments of peace, followed by those of absolute torment - a cruel cycle that you fell victim to countless times.
Jeno had been perfect in your eyes, at least at the beginning, and almost till the very end. From the very minute you set your eyes on him the first time, it was like you knew in your bones that he would be yours. A wordless connection developed between the two of you, born out of the stolen glances from across classrooms and jittery words falling from nervous tongues - it was indisputable that there was something there to anyone who spent even two minutes around the two of you.
You recalled the first time he kissed you, on a Friday evening such as this very one, but much later into the night. Six months ago, in a secluded corner of a terrace and away from the crowd of people that consisted of the party the two of you had found yourselves amidst. You were sixteen, just as you were now, but a much more wide-eyed version of the supposedly sweet age. 
You were tipsy from your first real taste of alcohol, for the previous times you had consumed it, it had been your parents who had let you have a few sips from their glasses while joking about how you were growing up now. This was different though, this was unsupervised and unrestricted access to it, and when he told you he liked you back, you thought it was the result of the liquor in the red solo cup you had somehow misplaced.
Sobriety rushed back to you when he pressed his lips to yours though, chaste and out of the blue. You remember your eyelids fluttering shut, but shock overtaking your every muscle as you froze, only registering what had happened seconds later, when you were staring right at him in disbelief. 
A soft smile played on his lips, a soft word slipping through them and just barely reaching your buzzing ears.
“Good?”
You swallowed, wondering if it had been real with how quickly it took place. Maybe it had been a figment of your imagination.
“Yeah.”
It was the most perfect first kiss you could have asked for.
A best friend and a lover, somehow the two of you were both for each other, being able to talk and laugh about every topic that was brought about. The nerves faded with time, comfort replacing them as you got to know him better. You memorized the sound of his laughter, his stupid jokes that somehow always made you crack a smile even when you tried your hardest not to.
He once told you he loved the pissed-off look that overtook your features when you tried to get him to shut up, or if he cracked a particularly lame joke that day. You told him he was lucky you liked him with the very same look. He agreed wholeheartedly, causing a wave of heat to curl around your neck and up to your cheeks, leaving you to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning too hard.
Jeno made you the happiest person in the world.
Which is why you let go of all the times he managed to make you the saddest.
Love truly did make you blind, and it was so bitterly ironic that you could only see that now. Every red flag seemed white when you looked through the rose-tinted glasses that had been bestowed upon you when he asked you to be his girlfriend.
Everything seemed so perfect, and you had wanted to keep it that way so badly.
He told you he loved you for the first time on this very beach, a little deeper into the ocean than where you currently stood where the water was up to your knees. Your blue dress stuck to your skin, hair matted down against your forehead due to the number of times he had splashed you, and yet you had the biggest grin plastered onto your face. 
The sun beat down on the two of you, and it flitted through the strands of his hair like a halo of sorts, framing his face in such a manner that he seemed like an angel. Three little words flashed through your mind, a startling revelation when it really shouldn’t have been. You had thought about it before, of course, but not so literally and not so forwardly - definitely not right when he was in front of you. 
His shirt was drenched, and he stopped, looking at your face with that soft simper of his. “You okay?”
You were perfect, and you caught your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering if it was the right time. Your parents would have laughed at you for even suggesting the notion of being in love, because you were so young and so very naive, whatever would a sixteen-year-old know about the big scary concept of love? Not that you could ever ask them such questions, since technically you weren’t supposed to be dating anyone, you weren’t allowed to be in a relationship.
And you had risked it anyway for Jeno, so surely this was worth the risk too, right?
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, averting your gaze from his for a moment, the words travelling from the safe confines of your mind to the tip of your tongue. The water suddenly felt too cold on the expanse of your skin, but scathing at the very same time as the sun dried it up. “Jeno, I…I um-”
And they got stuck right there, refusing to be pronounced out into the world as a single shred of fear made itself known. What if he didn’t feel the same way yet? What if you were moving too fast for him?”
“Y/n?”
“I…” And now you wracked your brains for something that would seem passable for the moment, to cover this up. The silence seemed much too loud, weighing down on you with every word left unsaid.
And somehow, he understood, the pause conveying what you wanted to say. He took steps towards you through the water, until he was right in front of you, forcing you to meet his eyes.
“I love you too.”
A sigh barely managed to escape you as he kissed you, hands on your waist as yours gently cradled his face. To be loved was the most beautiful thing you had ever experienced, and more so was the act of actively falling in love with Jeno Lee. It felt as if you were walking on clouds, the world resting at your fingertips.
You were so high from it all that you didn’t realize it when he was hurting you, at least not the first few times. 
Jeno had the habit of thinking too much and sometimes would isolate himself from everything - his family, his friends and even you. He’d be physically present when he had to be, like when classes were in session, but mentally he wouldn’t be there at all. He’d barely look at you sometimes, ignoring your existence almost wholly. 
He was going through something, you told yourself, and it was what his friends said as well. Apparently, it was something he did often. You didn’t mind, everyone had personal problems and you didn’t mind being the one to wait around for him, to be the one to comfort and help him through whatever he was struggling with. 
But when you asked if something was wrong, with hesitant eyes and pursed lips, he lied to your face and denied it. You could tell he was lying, it was so undeniable, but you understood. Some people had a harder time opening up than others did.
The next day it was like nothing had happened, he was talking like he normally did and kissing you like you were so used to, so you pushed the incident aside and decided not to think so much about something that may have not even been that important. You were just glad to have him talking to you again. 
When it continued to happen, it was as if you were desensitized, used to it. He’d walk away and not say a word to you, and you’d shrug and feign a smile, turning to humour to cover up the neglect that you had begun starting to feel. Three months of your relationship slipped by without you even noticing, and these happenings continued to grow, while you continued to suppress the resentment that came with them.
You didn’t want any drama, nor did you want to fight. Everything was perfect and you didn’t dare try to disrupt that perfection.
Another party and another moment of drunken bliss led to the two of you sitting on a couch, lip-locked as music blared on in the background, drowned out to you as all your focus lay upon your boyfriend, acutely aware of the smoky aftertaste that he left on your lips. Later, you found yourself barely comprehensible, but with your head in Jeno’s lap in the backseat of a cab, his fingers playing with your hair as he dropped you home.
“You think you’ll be okay? Manage to get back into your house without your parents realizing?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, or at least tried to as you looked up at him. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Intoxication is a funny thing, and there are so many ways one can be intoxicated. The most obvious sources are substances - alcohol, cigarettes and drugs - things that shouldn’t have been nearly as accessible as they were for teenagers. The other source was that of comfort and bliss, something that people used substances to achieve.
But you had your very own drug in the form of Jeno, and he was so very intoxicating.
And then it happened again, with him barely saying a word to you for two complete days, even forgetting to say goodbye. Usually, the two of you travelled together, but this time, he simply walked off without you, leaving you to watch his figure grow smaller the farther he travelled. 
High school shouldn’t have been this hard, you realized, and hurt began to settle in the pit of your stomach. The next day, he continued to ignore you, leaving you confused and visibly upset, something your friends noticed, and it was only when they brought it to his attention did he realize what he was doing. 
The next thing you knew, you were in his arms, wrapped in a tight hug as he whispered apologies into your hair. It felt genuine and real, contrition lacing his voice as he held you.
So you said it was okay. You said it was okay because you couldn’t bare to see the conflict in his eyes. You hugged him back and let it go, once again putting yourself on the back burner for his sake, because it was just as painful to see him looking so confused and regretful, struggling to come up with the words to explain why he had acted as he had. 
You forgave.
And it kept happening, but you loved Jeno so much that you trusted that in time, he would tell you what was bothering him. You told him time and time again that he could tell you anything and you’d always be there, waiting and ready to listen when he was ready. 
All your friends were in awe of the two of you, seemingly such an impeccable couple with no problems. Some thought the two of you would end up together with how evident the love there was. Envious of how healthy the relationship was, when in reality it was falling apart and straying away from being healthy with every damn day.
The way just talking to him could brighten up your entire day and make you forget about whatever you were previously upset about. The apparent glee that everyone could make out when he had his arm around you and the affectionate glances you took at him that went unnoticed by only him.
Jeno’s eyes had always been your weakness, expressive and almost always locked on your figure. More often than not, you would have to look away, flustered out of your mind and wishing you could hold his gaze for longer because you adored having it on you.
It was probably why it hurt even more when he would push you away and barely look at you when he did so, then return a day or two later with those pretty little apologies of his, saying he’d be better. Saying he couldn’t talk about what he went through, but then lying through those perfect teeth of his when he said if there was anyone he would tell, it would be you.
Because he never did. 
Over time, you realized you just knew facts about him - his favourite colour, the fact he was born with a good tolerance to alcohol (something you had quickly discovered at parties), common subjects he’d revert to while making jokes - but you didn’t really know him. He had pushed you away so much that he had become the one thing you had feared the most.
A stranger.
And the thing was you had let him in, given so much of yourself to him while he kept you at a distance. 
You were lonely in love.
“Jeno,” you mumbled, reaching out and intertwining your fingers with his. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” The way he lied to you so easily baffled you and you pursed your lips, stopping yourself from saying anything further and swallowing the lump in your throat, one that seemed to constantly be growing as of late. You watched while he focused his eyes on the screen of his phone, scrolling through his Instagram feed without paying much attention to a single thing on it. 
It felt as if he was using it to avoid having to interact with you, and avoid it he did, because he spoke to every single person but you that day, leaving you feeling like an absolute idiot. 
You received another apology a few days later, soft-spoken and as repentant as the last, with the very same promise of bettering himself for your sake, and it was then you started feeling a little stupid, even as you forgave him again. It felt as if you were losing little pieces of yourself now, whatever you hadn’t already given to him. 
Putting him first was something that had been ingrained in you by now, something that had come so naturally from the moment the two of you had begun dating. You welcomed him back with open arms every time he fucked up, whereas he kept his arms crossed, guarded as ever. 
The guise of perfection began to show cracks in its surface, and as hard as you tried to keep intact, it was only a matter of time before it shattered. 
You told him that it was getting too much the next time he did it, that you just wanted him to tell you what was going on in his head so you could be there for him. It was the first time he had seen you express how it hurt you, and for the first time in the four months that you had been with him, he opened up the tiniest bit.
It would be the only time. 
The last time he did it, it completely shattered you, your patience finally running out. Finally, you had managed to break through the armour he always seemed to be wearing and he had gone ahead and put it right back on. Desperation crept through, and it bled into what it truly was in the first place - an emotion you had long been suppressing for his sake.
Unadulterated anger.
The moment you let yourself feel it, it took over every fibre of your being so intensely that you could barely think straight because you were so tired of being constantly alienated from the one person you loved the most in the world. 
This time though, his apologies meant nothing to you, for they had been reduced to simply empty shells constituted of letters strung together that you had heard innumerable times in the past. After all, there were only so many times you could believe what someone says before the words turned meaningless with the sheer number of times you had heard them before. 
When the anger faded, it was replaced by sorrow, the realization that you no longer believed in him. You loved him, of course you did, but not in the same, innocent way you once did. Now, your love was tainted and burned with how much he had hurt you- months upon months of damage that you had tried your best to put aside for him. 
And he had never ever considered how you felt.
Inherently you knew he was trying, but nothing had ever changed and you knew that you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself. You had given far too much of yourself and had lost a lot of who you were along the way and with how much he had pushed you away, you just couldn’t let him in again. 
And as agonizing as it was to see the tortured look in his glasses when you told him the same, no matter how many times he begged you to try to let him fix it, you knew what you had to do.
“I love you Y/n,” he said, voice breaking, as he reached out to try and touch you, only for you to take a step away from him, unable to meet his eyes but for an entirely different reason this time. You couldn’t look at him without second-guessing your decision about what you had to go through for your own sake.
You couldn’t say it back, but not because you were scared. The lump in your throat had expanded so much that it prevented you from even whispering the words. 
The conversation ended with you walking away from him, asking for time and space. You had fought for almost six months to keep your relationship alive, doing everything in your limited power as just a teenager hopelessly in love with a boy who couldn’t give her what she needed no matter how much he tried. 
You decided to put yourself first and be selfish this time and let him go, letting a piece of your heart leave with him in the process. Those sad eyes of his would forever be imprinted in your memory, haunting you for the days that followed with all the things left unknown about the boy you were so completely lovesick for.
Having to keep it together in front of your family bore fruit to sleepless nights filled with tears and staring at your ceiling, thinking back to when you’d have his arms around you in your bed as you cuddled into him when your parents weren’t around and missing him.
It all led you to where you were right now, standing in between the sky and the sand, breathing in the salt air. Now, you were almost seventeen, staring out into the limitless and unpredictable ocean and taking comfort in its constant ebb and flow. 
You were still so young, with so many more loves to experience waiting for you. Just as the ocean recovered from its tides, you too would make it past the crash that followed the initial fall for you. You knew that some would probably think it ridiculous of you to hold on so tightly to a boy you loved when you were just sixteen.
But you would know. You would know of the boy that made you laugh on your darkest days and held your hand underneath the desks, how he kissed you and took care of you, and how he told you he loved you in the very waters that you stood and took comfort in now. You would know what loving Jeno Lee felt like, even if it had been for just six months, and you would choose to remember the good.
Six months of fragmented and yet unsullied bliss, a love so fierce that it would always leave a mark. A love you had fought for and had perhaps lost the war, but you would walk out of the battlefield knowing you tried.
And you’d never know if you had made the right decision or if you’d regret it down the line but as you peered into the horizon, memories of your first magnificent love dancing about, you knew you didn’t regret even a moment spent with him, for they had constituted for some of the happiest moments of your life. Uncertainties crept into your thoughts, but you were sure of one thing as you whispered your last profession of affection to the wind- that you’d be alright.
“I love you too.”
Tumblr media
fin.
304 notes · View notes
springseasonie · 6 months
Note
Hi I really loved your Jisung va work and I was hoping you could do a mark ver?
Listen to the sound of my voice (M)
Warnings: sexual content, auralism (sound/voice kink), guided masturbation, mutual masterbation
Word count: 1,2k
A/N: my job has been beating my ass very sorry this too so long
Tumblr media
There's a reason you find yourself clicking his profile every time you need a release. He always says everything you need to hear. When all is down, there's only one man that doesn't disappoint you and his name is Mark.
"Welcome back beautiful."
You smiled to yourself, body sinking into your couch as you allowed his voice to soak your ears.
"You're probably here because you had a bad day, am I right?"
You nod, sighing heavily to yourself as you sit with your knees hugged to your chest. You hated feeling vulnerable, having to verbally express your feelings. The mere thought of actually having to tell people things instead of simply internalizing it made you anxious. Yes it is a bad, unhealthy habit, but it's all you know. It used to be worse, until you found his audios. They help you calm down a bit, in more ways than one. And you definitely need to hear him, especially after your hookup from that night went horribly.
"Whatever it was, it's okay. It's all over now, yes? And now it's time for you to listen to me okay? Can you do that?"
You nodded, gulping as you felt your body becoming hot at the low timbre of his voice.
"I want you to feel your body. Run your hands over your skin softly. Do you feel that? All that tension in your muscles? We're gonna get rid of that right now, just listen to the sound of my voice ."
You felt your body up like he said, the feeling of still being unsatisfied coming back. It was the first time in a while you got the courage to actually try and hook up with someone. You were really attracted to him and was hoping that attraction would transfer when you got into bed with him, but he was nonetheless disappointing. You really needed a release, and if this was how you were going to get it, so be it.
"I know you probably don't want to be teased," he says, chuckling softly in your ears. "But you know me, I like teasing you. I like having you work for it and I know you do too. That's why you keep coming back."
And he was right indeed. That's why the familiar feeling of butterflies that quickly died earlier in the night were beginning to come back. You really liked Mark's voice, his face, his cadence, his everything. He wasn't a celebrity in the slightest, but he was a hundred percent your celebrity crush. When all went wrong, you went right back to him, slipping your headphones on and falling into absolute bliss.
"Touch your breast. Squeeze them. Feel them. Doesn't that feel good?"
You hands slithered up your body, groping yourself slowly but firmly, unlike Mr. Nervous failed to do. Rolling your nipples between your fingers, you let out a shaky sigh, starting to feel yourself become aroused once again.
"Now run your fingers down your body, against your stomach. But do it softly, so soft it's just your fingertips."
And you did. He knew all the things that could make you women tick, specifically you. That's why you haven't moved on for so long.
"Now take your hand and move it right to your pussy. I know you couldn't wait for it, I won't torture any longer."
You did, body shuddering as your fingers grazed the sensitive skin. Spreading your arousal over the bud, you circled your fingers, spreading your legs wider.
"Feels good, doesn't it? Tell me it feels good."
"F-fuck," you moaned softly. "It feels good." Your fingers are still going, you start to feel your orgasm build a little too quickly from being worked up from the hours before, so you slow down.
"You're such a good girl, doing whatever I say. Playing with yourself to the sound of my voice. I love it."
You swallowed, head becoming heavier as your body sank into your mattress. Naturally, your fingers moved from your clit to your entrance, pushing two fingers in as slow as you could. But you were way too horny to go slow, the sound of his voice couples with the way your fingers slid in and out of you making it difficult to slow down. Shallow breaths escaped your lips as you kept pumping your fingers. You were almost completely swept away in the pleasure until you heard him pop open a bottle, squirting something into his hand.
"I bet that surprised you," he laughed softly. You heard him spread what you assumed to be lube over his cock, mouth salivating at the wet sounds in your ears. "I want us to cum together."
For once, you started slowing yourself down pumping your fingers slower. You listened to him jerk himself off, soft sighs falling into his mic. You loved the sounds he made. So deep, soft, raspy, whiny. Everything you needed to hear at the moment.
"Fuck.. wish I could feel you right now. Wish I could just have my hands on you and make you feel good. Do you want me to?"
You nodded fast, now reaching down your other hand to rub your clit while fingering yourself. A whine escapes your lips, the sudden addition of pleasure shooting through your body.
"Wish I could just sit you on my cock. You'd like that wouldn't you? I know you'd like it, being split open by my dick."
You could cum instantly just by the way he was speaking right now. The breathiness in his tone, the sound of him jerking off faster. You can't help but imagine him sitting, touching himself with his eyes hanging low, shirt pulled up slightly as he moaned softly with his brows scrunched. You were about to cum from the thought alone.
“Shit” your voices met in harmony as the moans flew past your lips. The over stimulation was getting to you head in the best way possible as Mark whispered the most heinous things into your ear.
“Does it feel good?”
Your back arched as you hit a spot inside of you that had stars clouding your vision. And as if sensing your actions the man spoke without missing a beat.
“I can’t hear you baby girl. Does it feel good?”
The low growl in his voice had you practically mewling in please. “Fuck yes it feels fucking amazing” the sound of his voice rang in your ears as he chuckled.
The sloppy wet sounds hitting your ears made you hotter and hotter, needier and needier. Curse that annoying dickhead of a man for leaving you like this, for forcing you to fall back onto your delusional habits of the sexy audio porn man. His grunts and moans grew in speed, breathing speeding up and becoming louder in his mic.
“I’m so close” your need for release was almost unbearable. “I want you to come with me, baby. Let go, just for me.”
Your reaction was immediate. You let out a loud moan as your orgasm came washing over you. “M-mark” his name fell past your lips as you heard his trembling groans in your headphones. You could tell he was in no better condition than you were. His deep voice growing in pitch as he came like music to your ears as the sound continued to push you to your brink.
As you both came down from your high he said his final words to you. “Well that was fun wasn’t it? Maybe next time we can do something a bit more intimate?"
You raised your brows as his words. How intimate? What was his idea of intimate? Was this not enough? Well you wouldn't know, not until his next post.
173 notes · View notes
liliansun · 5 months
Text
all too well | lee haechan
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
wc 0.9k
warnings | angst | ex. hyuck x gn. reader
listen to the inspiration while reading this
Tumblr media
the air was crisp, brushing against your cheek as you walk up to the cafe doors that offered warmth and comfort. just as you’re reaching for the handle, a familiar voice calls out to you and it carried enough weight to halt your movements. turning to your left, your eyes fall upon a silhouette you didn’t think you’d ever see again, watching as he got closer and closer to you despite the snowfall coming down gently.
you take the time to take him in, a soft smile that almost felt like a natural response spread across your lips as he returns the smile. “please, go inside.” wordlessly, you reach back out to the handle, pulling the door open just enough for you to slip inside as he followed behind you. you take this moment to brush the snow off your coat, feeling a lot warmer with his presence next to you than you would’ve had he not gotten your attention.
“did you want the usual, i was thinking of getting something as well.” nodding, you look over at him as he takes your gesture as a yes and leaves your side to the line forming in front of the register. your thoughts are running, wondering what to say in conversation and what not to bring up to avoid cutting through old wounds while making your way to the same small table you two used to sit at back when you were younger. oh what a time it was to be young and in love, how the two of you would walk in the same cafe hand in hand with goofy smiles spread from ear to ear and now it feels almost foreign to be here with him again.
as you take the seat, haechan comes back over with two cups that have a steam coming up from the only spot it has to escape from and he sets them down onto the table. “they made ours quicker than i expected, guess that’s the perks of being regulars.” the words fall effortlessly out of his mouth, as if you two still came here together. “yeah, i still come by often to check on everyone so they’re pretty accustom to the time i stop by.” he only nods, pushing your drink towards you as he holds his within his hands. without much to spark a conversation, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence while you opt to avoid his longing gaze by staring out the window.
“oh i almost forgot.” he mumbles beneath his breath while digging in his coat pocket. his voice directs your attention to his hand, furrowed brows to show your confusion as to what he had for you till you see the faded red fabric in his hand. “you left this years ago and i never had time to return it.” setting it on the table, he searches for your eyes for a hint at anything that’ll walk you two down the road of your memories together. instead, he sees the same look in your eyes that you had the night you two ended things and it brings a familiar pain to his heart.
“uhm, thanks hyuck.” you’re not sure what to say, grabbing the scarf from off the table and gently caress it within your glove-covered hands. you’re not sure what possessed you to meet his eyes, but when you do you can only hold back the tears as you both share a similar thought. you both missed each other, so much that it drove you apart and despite the nights you each cried out for one another, neither of you had the strength to find the other. now here you both were, sitting at the same table with the drinks you still order each time you come in and choke back the urge to ask him how he’s been when you know the answer already. he looks good, his face is a little thinner since the last time you saw him, but his hair is thicker and his eyes are bright.
he now has his own life, a life that is no longer intertwined within yours and all you can do is remember him from who he was then and not him becoming the stranger in front of you now. “i gotta go y/n, but i want you to know i would like to get in touch with you again.” and there it goes again, his attempts of trying to rebuild a bridge with you that you burnt down yourself. he’s quick when he gets up from his seat, going to the counter to scribble his number down on a napkin and brining it back to you. “i don’t need your number hyuck, i still remember it.” judging by the look on his face, he seemed relieved and almost saddened by your response, but he simply smiles at you and carries his drink in his hand as he walks out of the cafe.
watching him from your seat, a singular tear rolls down your cheek as you follow his silhouette with your eyes till he gets too far out of view. you remember everything about him, from his favorite movies down to his first songs he started a playlist with. how could you ever forget anything about your first love, for he was and still is everything to you. they say that with time, all wounds will heal, but for you, you know you’ll never forget him. you’ll forever remember him all too well.
Tumblr media
permanent taglist | @dinonuguaegi
89 notes · View notes
inadaydream99 · 7 months
Text
Even When You Were Invisible
Based on the movie The Princess Diaries (2001)
NCT Dream Jisung x fem reader, fluff
A/N - so I recently rewatched The Princess Diaries and just had to write this into a oneshot. This focuses more onto the budding romance side-plot of the film, so I’ve taken some liberties and adapted the narrative a bit. This is also unedited for now - please excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes!
Disclaimer: I have used a direct quote from the film which is in italics. I am not trying to replicate the film, just use the plot as inspiration. I do not take any credit for this plot. This does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only. Jaemin’s character does not reflect him and is purely to fulfil the shallow character he plays. Mild use of language (like 5 swears, maybe??)
Tumblr media
“How’s my baby?” You gleam at Jisung, catching him off guard from where he’d been so focused on tinkering around with the car engine in front of him. He bolts upright beside you, quickly grabbing hold of the car bonnet and slamming it down before reaching into his pocket to pull out the rag he uses to wipe off the engine oil from his hands.
“All good.” His voice comes out strained, watching as your smile somehow grows wider. He observes the way your hand smooths over the shiny baby blue metal of the car, gazing into the way it reflects your loving expression.
“Well, she looks amazing.” Your eyes flicker up to meet his, watching the way his Adam’s apple bops. “Thank you, Sungie.”
“Oh, it was really no problem…” he gushes, playing down all the turmoil your precious car has given him over the last few weeks. Not that Jisung ever plans on telling you about all the extra hours he’s spent fixing up your car for you. He doesn’t mind at all. He spends most of his free time at the garage anyway because his band is also allowed to practice there in return for Jisung helping out repair some cars.
It’d be a dead giveaway to all of the feelings he has towards you and he also knows you’d insist on paying him extra for his time if you knew when you’ve already put every penny of your savings into repairing the car you’d worked so hard to get.
Besides, with the way you look at him now, radiating so much adoration, Jisung feels it’s more than enough compensation for his hard work.
“You’re the best!” You reach out to ruffle his hair the second he ducks his head shyly from your compliment. Whispered giggles tumbling from his lips as his cheeks burn. “Can I pick her up tomorrow after school?” You shine those big doe-like eyes at him.
“No problem.” Jisung nods, smiling warmly. And he watches you skip out of the garage with so much excitement, shouting a “see you at school!” over your shoulder. Just as you have left his line of sight, Jisung is called over by his band mates for practice. And while they spend the rest of the evening playing their songs, Jisung continues to replay your interaction over in his mind. Damn, he’s down bad for you.
You reach home quicker than usual, thanks to the spring in your step from Jisung’s amazing work with your baby. You’re so unbelievably excited to finally be able to drive your dream car. You’ve wanted a baby blue mustang since you can remember, so you’d scraped all of your savings from your part time job together to buy the old beaten up car and payed the garage where Jisung works to make your car dreams come true.
“That you honey?” You hear your mom call as you walk further into your house. She sends you a smile over her shoulder when your bag clatters onto the kitchen table. Picking up an apple from the fruit bowl as you watch her refocus on the painting before her.
“Did you get another commission?” You speak through half-chewed apple.
“Uh-huh.” You mom hums, placing down her brush carefully onto the tray beside her easel before turning to you. “Who knew posting my art online would rake in so much work?”
“I did.” You tease, taking another bite of your apple.
Your mom shakes her head at you while rinsing her hands in the sink. All the while, you push yourself away from the counter, grabbing your bag to begin heading to your room.
“(Y/N), wait!” Your mom calls just as you reach the stairs. “Your grandmother called today. The live one.” Your mom adds upon seeing your shock.
“The one I’ve never met?” You tilt your head in confusion, bushy eyebrows furrowing. “What would she suddenly want?”
“She said she wants to have tea with you after school tomorrow.” Your mom explains. “Something about important news she needs to share with you.”
“Oh, I was supposed to pick up my car tomorrow… but I guess I’ll have to rain check.”
That was two weeks ago now and little did you know at the time how much your life was about to change.
The following afternoon, when you’d arrived at your estranged grandmothers house - or should you say mansion - you’d had your world flipped upside down.
“A-a Princess-” your mouth hangs agape, unable to comprehend the situation at hand. Your eyes dart around the room, looking from your grandmother to her staff, then the security, before finally landing back on your grandmothers perfectly calm expression. She’s not joking. “No no no nonononono." You shake your head.
“You’ve got the wrong person. I’m the furthest thing from a princess. Look at me!”
-
As it turns out, they did not have the wrong person. Your father, who you’d never met, had been heir to the throne of the small European country you’d never heard of and after his death, that left you - his only child - next in line.
You’d come to an agreement with your grandmother that, before anyone made any rash decisions, you’d give it some time to try out the role of Princess. And so commenced the ‘Princess training’ every day after school with your grandmother. You’d learn how to walk, talk, sit, stand and live like a true Princess within the agreed trial month between this life altering news and the annual independence ball.
Sworn to secrecy, you’d not told a soul about your new informed identity. So, while your private life has somehow changed in every single way, your school life has not budged an inch. From the hours of 8-3 you’re the same invisible girl, with your two bestest friends since kindergarten, Jisung and Chenle.
“Woah, he’s so dreamy.” You gush, resting your chin in your palm as you watch Jaemin walk past your lunch table. Jisung simply rolls his eyes at the way you simp over the most popular guy in school, like always. He doesn’t get the hype around Jaemin. So what if he’s the captain of the football team, extremely lean and always seems to have perfectly shiny hair? Anyone could have all of those things. Jisung could have all of those things…
Despite the fact that he’s almost flunking gym class because of his terrible hand-eye co-ordination in football.
Jisung feels his only consolation is that Jaemin is dating Nina, the head cheerleader.
“Anyway…” Chenle speaks a little louder, “as I was saying before (Y/N) let her hormones take away from the crisis at hand. How am I going to get another guest for my show on Saturday?”
Ah yeah, you were trying to console Chenle on his last minute drama. His school curricula radio show, Talking with Chenle, had finally been getting more than three listeners a week. And ever since his audience has started to slowly grow, he’s been putting more and more pressure on himself to promote the topics he cares about with guests.
“Dude, chill. You still have four days to find a replacement.” Jisung grumbles from beside you. He looks a little like he’s sulking, although you have no idea what could have possibly made him so annoyed within the last thirty minutes that you’ve been sat at your lunch table.
“So much help you are.” Chenle fires at the grumpy Jisung on your left as he stands from the table, slings his bag over his shoulder and storms off.
You turn your attention to said grump, frowning.
“That wasn’t nice Sungs.” You watch as regret consumes his face, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he mumbles a muted apology.
“So, are you collecting your car from the garage tonight?” Jisung finally builds up enough courage to ask you. He’s been battling in his mind for the last few days on how to bring this up, so he’s a little nervous, but tries his best to suppress the shyness that wants to win over.
“Oh I can’t.” You guiltily grimace. You feel terrible putting him off again, especially when you were meant to pick up your baby weeks ago. But, since you’ve been having your ‘Princess lessons’ everyday, you’ve had no time. “I’m seeing my Grandmother.”
“Again?” Jisung regrets how quickly the word slips out of his mouth. But you don’t seem offended, nodding yes in response.
“How about Saturday?” You quizzically raise a brow, biting down onto the corner of your bottom lip in anticipation.
“Saturday works…” You let out a breath in relief upon Jisung’s agreement. “…and maybe you can stay for a bit, hang out?” Jisung suggests.
“…it’s just my band are practicing that afternoon in front of a few people and it’d be great to have a bit more of an audience…” Jisung trails off, cutting off his word vomit just in time to notice the way your smile reaches your eyes.
“Sounds perfect.” You beam, just as the bell rings for class.
-
You were beyond nervous. Petrified, if you’re completely honest. Yesterday evenings ‘Princess lesions’ with your grandmother had turned out to be a head-to-toe makeover and you’d come out the other end of the evening looking like someone entirely different. Some may even say, like a Princess. Gone were your glasses, bushy eyebrows, your hair had been cut and the frizz tamed. To you, you look almost unrecognisable. To Chenle, you look amazing. But to Jisung, you look like the very thing you’d always swore you’d never want to be - a popular - and it scared him.
While you liked your new look, you felt like a bit of a sellout for complying with the makeover to look more ‘regal’ - as your grandmother had described it. So you’d walked into your first class of the day wearing a grey bucket hat, so as to cover as much of your new look as possible.
Jisung had to do a double take when you entered the classroom and took your usual seat beside him. He’d always thought you were beautiful before, but wow, you’d somehow managed to ascend to another level quite literally overnight. From under the hat, he could see your bright eyes and long lashes. The neat shaping of your eyebrows and the plumpness of your lips, accentuated by the baby pink lip gloss you’d applied. Although, he’s unsure of why you’re wearing a hat on such a warm summers day, especially when you’re inside.
“Okay class, simmer down.” Your teacher, Mr Sums enters from the back of the room, hushing all of the excited chatter in the room as he places down his bag on the front desk and begins to set up for the class. “Yes, Nina?” He acknowledges without so much as glancing in her direction.
Nina sat in the seat behind you, perfectly poised and ready to strike. She’s the head girl in your grade for a reason, with her off-scale intelligence, popularity and cunning attitude. She will take down anyone who gets in her way. Which, right now, is your hat covered head that’s in her line of vision to the front of the class.
“Mr Sums. Isn’t there a rule about no hats allowed?” You can feel her smirk on the back of your neck, letting out a concealed huff as you try to prepare yourself for what you know is going to happen next.
“You’re right Nina.” Mr Sums sighs, “(Y/N), please could you remove your improper dress coded attire?” He glances at you and your mortified expression, watching as you gulp down your nerves while simultaneously reaching up to reluctantly slip your hat off.
Out tumbles your perfectly smooth hair as it cascades down past your shoulders. Jisung’s eyes almost pop out of his head from beside you. Not that you notice, too busy being consumed by the gasps from your classmates.
“Oh wow.” You hear Nina laugh, “Look who’s trying to fit in now?”
Her sickly-sweet tone only makes your cheeks burn deeper and you try to sink into your chair.
“Well, I think (Y/N) looks stunning, actually.” Your head whips towards Jisung, grateful for him sticking up for you. You send him a thankful smile as class begins and everyone’s attention is turned away from you. For now.
-
“So what’s the deal with your sudden change of appearance?” Chenle questions as he shovels his salad into his mouth. His words come out slightly muffled between the half-chewed lettuce and Jisung just rolls his eyes.
“Nothing.” You try to shut down the topic, bowing your head into your own lunch.
“It’s clearly not nothing.” Chenle deadpans, before narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re hiding something.”
“Am not.” You grumble into your sandwich.
“So you’ll be coming to my baseball game after school then, like we agreed weeks ago?”
Shit. You’d completely forgotten about Chenle’s baseball game and you know for certain you can’t get out of seeing your grandmother.
“I can’t.”
“See!” Chenle drops his fork into his salad, folding his arms as he turns to Jisung for support. “What? Are you just bored with us now? Don’t want to be friends anymore?”
“No, that’s not even close!” You cry in distress.
“Then tell us what’s so important that you keep dropping us (Y/N).”
You bite down on your jittering bottom lip, your worried eyes casting from Chenle’s unimpressed expression to Jisung’s concerned one.
“I’m not allowed to tell…”
Upon this half-confession, Chenle drops his attitude and leans across the table to speak quieter.
“Are you in trouble? Being blackmailed again? Do we need to beat someone up?”
“No!” You shut down his conspiracies, hands flying up in surrender.
You know you shouldn’t tell anyone. But you also know that if you don’t spill it all to them now, you’ll risk loosing the only people keeping you sane. Heaving a deep sigh, you know what you have to do.
“Okay. You have to promise me you’ll keep this strictly between us.” You point between your two intrigued friends, encouraging them to lean into the table so you can whisper. “I’m serious. The repercussions if this gets out-”
“Just tell us.” Chenle rolls his eyes.
To other students, it simply looks like your gossiping like any other group of high schoolers. But if they were to look closely enough, they’d notice the way both Chenle and Jisung’s eyes blow wide and how the colour seems to drain from Jisung’s face faster than lightening.
“You’re a what-” you cover Chenle’s mouth before he has a chance to shout anything further, covering it with a “Shhhhh.”
“Promise this stays between us.” You stick your pinky finger out for them to link, watching as both of your friends entangle theirs around yours.
“Damn. Wish I could be a…” Chenle begins to mutter.
“Dude!”
-
Walking into school the next morning feels a little more unnerving than usual. You’re barely through the threshold of the gates when someone spots you and shouts “that’s her!”.
Everything’s a blur from that moment. With a frenzy of people shouting “Princess!”, a crowd of students swarm you in seconds, phones and cameras are flying in front of your face as they all take pictures and videos. You feel nauseous from being elbowed and shoved in the midst of the unfolding chaos. However, just when you think your about to spew your guts from the motion sickness, you feel a pair of hands find your waist and clutch onto you, wrapping you into the taller frame of your saviour and using their body as a shield until you’re safely out of the crowd.
“Follow me.” Your saviour moves you away from their hold, clutching onto your hand and forcing you to run as you’re dragged along behind them to a place of refuge. You’re pulled into the main building and twisted through the narrow corridors until there’s no one on your tail.
It’s not until you’re hidden inside a janitors closet that you’re able to look at the person before you and realise it’s Jisung.
“How do they know!” You rush back into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso and burying your face. Jisung is winded a little from the impact, tumbling a few steps back with you before he regains his balance.
“It’s ok. Everything’s going to be ok.” He whispers into the top of your head, fluttering his eyes shut as he inhales the floral scent of your freshly washed hair.
Of course, Jisung has no idea how your secret had gotten out, or what to do next. All he knows right now is how perfectly you fit in his arms and how much he wants to protect you.
“I want you to know, it wasn’t me.” You pull away from Jisung, peering into his worried eyes. You’d never once doubted it would have come from him and there’s nothing more in the world you want right now than to let him know that. Cupping his cheek, you brush your thumb over his soft skin.
“I’d never even consider that being a possibility.” You soothe.
Jisung drinks in every drop of affection you give him as though he’d been traversing the desert for days on end without water. Knowing you never could have accused him rehydrates him and makes his heart feel like it could burst.
“It wasn’t Chenle either. I was with him all evening after his baseball game.”
“I don’t doubt him either.” You reassure. “This feels bigger than just some school gossip.”
-
After cooling down in the janitors closet for a while, you’d managed to sneak out and into your first few classes of the day without too many people bombarding you. Your principle had made an announcement to not cause another commotion and all staff were on patrol during lesson changeovers and breaks.
“Wait, (Y/N)!” You turn to find Chenle forcing his way to the front of the cohort of students following you, instantly linking his arm with yours as you continue to uncomfortably make your way to class surrounded by your new admirers. “You’re an overnight sensation!” He beams, loving the attention on you both.
“Tell me about it…” you mumble, juxtaposing Chenle in every way. Unlike your friend, you’re not made for the limelight. You don’t like all the attention on you. Not now, not ever.
This was one of your biggest fears about people finding out you’re a Princess.
“So, you’ll be my special celebrity guest on Talking with Chenle this Saturday, won’t you?”
Your mouth gapes, finally making eye contact with him and ready to outright refuse. Until, you see how hopeful he looks.
Damn it. There’s no way you can turn him down.
“Sure…” you sigh, unable to hide the small smile that forces its way onto your face when he jumps in excitement.
“You’re awesome!”
-
“(Y/N)!”
You’re just closing your locker when you hear your name, your heart picking up pace from the unmistakeable voice of your caller.
Spinning around, you find none other than Jaemin, smiling at you with his signature smile and staring at you with those heart melting eyes.
“How are you holding up? Been a bit of a crazy day…” He leans one arm on the locker beside you, standing so close you can smell his earthy cologne.
“Just a bit.” You giggle sweetly.
It’s amazing how Jaemin can have such an affect on you. One word and your mind has gone to putty and you’ve forgotten how to act like a normal person.
“Well, I just wanted to apologise for Nina this morning…”
“Huh?” You furrow your brows, feeling yourself come back down to earth.
“She was the one who shouted when you entered the gates and made everyone swarm you?” Jaemin’s tone comes out unsure, not realising that you weren’t aware when you let out a light “oh.”
“I just wanted to let you know that I do not condone that at all. In fact, I broke up with her because of it.”
“You did?” You gush, surprise written all over your face.
…and you’re off in space again.
“Yeah, it was totally not cool.” Jaemin nods. “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the end of school beach party with me this Saturday?”
Oh my gosh! Na Jaemin just asked you out!
“Yes!” You blurt. “I-uh I mean, yeah” you swallow, “sounds cool.”
“Cool.” His smile reaches his eyes. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
You watch dreamily as Jaemin walks away to join his group of friends at their lunch table. You’re only pulled back into reality when you spot Jisung perched on the edge of the fountain across the courtyard.
“Guess who just asked me to go with him to the beach party this Saturday!” You park yourself next to Jisung on the ledge of the fountain. “Jaemin!” You squeal your answer when Jisung simply raises an inquisitive brow at you.
“But, what about seeing my band practice?” Jisung tries to not sound depleted.
“Well, I was hoping we could reschedule? I just, I’ve been wanting to go out with Jaemin since forever and you’ll have other band practices, right?”
“Oh, yeah, right.” Jisung forces a smile, feeling himself deflate the second you’ve squeezed him in a tight hug before skipping off to get some lunch.
His attention flickers over to the table where Jaemin sits. How could Jisung ever compare? He’d always felt you were unattainable to him because of how he was too shy to express his feelings. And that was before your new look and title. But now? He has no shot.
You’re a Princess for goodness sake. You belong with the most popular guy in school. Not a shy keyboard player in a band that sings in the local garage like him…
-
“Oh, thank goodness you’re here!” Your grandmother rushes to you as you arrive for your ‘Princess lesson’ of the day. She takes you by your shoulders and peers at you intently.
“Now,” she exhales a deep breath. “We’ve got the press under control with the looming promise of the annual independence ball, so long as they keep a little distance for now.”
You nod in understanding.
You were honestly a little nervous about seeing your grandmother this evening. You’d been worrying about her reaction to this all getting out, even though she is calm and has dealt with an unimaginable amount of trials and tribulations during her many years of reign. She is also strong willed and has made it clear to you that - even though you have yet to make the choice to accept your title and duty - the expectation of this trial period would be as though this is your future.
“And we’ve found that the leak was from the stylist we’d hired.”
There’s more relief in knowing your Grandmother knows it hadn’t come from you than there is from the culprit being found out.
“And we’ve got him doing a formal apology to the press this evening.”
-
Saturday rolls around quickly and before you know it, you’re on your way to the beach party for your date with Jaemin. Everyone who’s anyone is there; dancing, sunbathing or cooling off in the ocean as the sun begins to set.
You feel a little awkward as you walk down the beach to join the other party-goers. It seems like it’s well underway already and you’re not typically one to mix with the crowd in attendance.
“Welcome to paradise.” You almost jump out of your skin upon hearing Jaemin’s voice from your side. You had been so engrossed in your awe of the scene in front of you, you didn’t notice he’d walked over. “I got you a drink.”
You accept the plastic cup, your fingers brushing accidentally with his. Chuckling a flustered thanks before taking a sip, you try not to be affected by his amused grin. He thinks you’re so adorable. How had you been kept so hidden before?
“C’mon.” You feel Jaemin’s hand slip into yours, gently tugging you along with him to head further into the crowd…
“Hello, welcome to Talking with Chenle.” Chenle professionally introduces when his fellow producer Mark signals they are live. “On todays show, we have a special interview with the newfound Princess and close friend of mine, (Y/N).” Mark hits the applause button.
“But, before our main guest’s appearance, we have a short segment on the upcoming senior class projects, presented by our very own Mark.”
Mark jumps in with his pre-written script, listing out the upcoming events for the semester. Meanwhile, Chenle checks his phone to see if you’ve tried to contact him about your whereabouts. Nothing. You should have been here 30 minutes ago…
Back at the beach party, you’re having the time of your life dancing with Jaemin. Uncontrollable laughter tumbling from your lips as he takes your hand and spins you around.
“Who knew you were such a good dancer?” You teasingly glance up at Jaemin as he leads you out of the crowd of dancers and to the side for some much needed air, your hand still firmly in his.
“Well, who knew you would make such a great dance partner.” He praises back, succeeding in making you flustered.
You cast a shy glance up at him through your lashes, still unable to believe that this is reality. You really are here with Jaemin, hand in hand in front of everyone. You feel like you should pinch yourself, just to double check your not dreaming all of this.
That is, until reality comes crashing down in a burning rage. What you’d simply brushed off as a plane flying above you, turned out to be a helicopter filled with paparazzi. It lowers, the wind from the propeller cutting off the party and almost knocking everyone off their feet as multiple cameras flash at you, trying their best to get a good snapshot.
You panic, a million questions buzzing around your mind. What should you do? How do you get away? But most of all, how did they know you’d be here?
“Quick, follow me!” Jaemin pulls you, both of you running towards the lifeguard shack at the back of the beach.
Once inside, Jaemin bolts the door shut and silence and darkness settle around you.
“I’m so sorry.” You plant your face into your hands as you fall into the chair behind you. Being chased by paparazzi - all shouting Princess at you - was not a part of your imagined date with Jaemin. And it’s mortifying to know that’s the reality.
“Hey.” You hear him whisper, his larger hands coercing yours away from your face. In the time you’ve been wallowing, Jaemin had made his way over to you and knelt down to your level so the first thing you see are his eyes and the way they catch the moonlight that filters in through the crack in the curtain covered window. “It’s not your fault.”
His sincerity mesmerises you and washes away your humiliation. How does he do it? How does he seem to know the exact right thing to say?
Meanwhile, Chenle’s radio show is crashing and burning live on air. The last forty-five minutes have been filled with Marks terrible jokes and ramblings and it’s all because of you.
“Alright, I’m off.” Chenle sounds defeated, taking off his headphones and making a stand from his chair the second the ‘live’ light goes dim.
Mark doesn’t respond, nodding his understanding as he watches his friend walk away. He knows it’s not his fault. Heck, Mark did everything he could to act on the spot and make the best out of the shit situation. Chenle is grateful for Marks loyalty and perseverance.
But damn, he still wishes you’d showed… they both do.
“Ok, I think they’ve given up.” Jaemin asserts, peaking through the curtain to find a dark and empty seeming beach. The relief that fills you has you following Jaemin out of the lifeguard shack without thought.
“Thank you for sticking by me, it means a lot.” You timidly smile at Jaemin, allowing him to take your hand in his as you begin to walk up the beach.
Before you have time to register, a bright flash snaps in front of you, the momentary blindness giving time for multiple lurking paparazzi to spring out from their hiding places and surround you both.
“Princess! Who’s your date?”
“Is this your boyfriend?”
“Princess, give him a kiss!”
The crowd shout as you panic, looking around to try and find an escape route.
You spot a slither in the sea of bodies and pull on Jaemin’s hand, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he complies to the crazy demands of the privacy invading press and scoops your body into his. His lean arms make your desperation to get away worthless and before you know it, he’s cupped your cheek and forced you to look at him.
With one final deer-in-the-headlights look at him, Jaemin crashes his lips to yours.
It takes you a few seconds to register what he’s doing, before you muster up the strength to shove him away and force yourself out of the circle.
You can’t believe he just did that.
-
“It’s really not that bad.” Jisung tries to console you.
You’re flopped over the table, head in your arms as you try to block out every piece of reality. After Saturday’s kiss fiasco, the picture had been posted everywhere. There was no escaping the horrifying image of your first kiss with Jaemin. No less because you’d always dreamt your first kiss with Jaemin would be magical, like something out of a fairytale. And while you may be a Princess, this feels nothing close to those magical Disney princess movies you adored so much growing up.
For starters, where is your fairy godmother? You could really use one of those right about now…
He can’t lie, Jisung’s a little heartbroken seeing the picture of you kissing someone else posted everywhere. He’s upset for you, knowing how much you hate the situation. But, selfishly, he’s more gutted for himself. That should be him in Jaemin’s place. In fact, if he’d been lucky enough to kiss you, the image wouldn’t have existed because he never would have done it in front of the cameras. Knowing that Jaemin used you to get his 15 minutes of fame angers him too. The first time he saw the picture online, his fists had clenched so tightly from the rage that bubbled up in his stomach his nails had left little crescent moons in his palms. And yet, he can’t bring himself to not look at the grainy image.
“Not that bad?” You retort. “Any hope I had of being Princess has gone down the drain.” You begin to sob.
“What’s my grandmother going to say?”
Jisung doesn’t realise how stern his face had been until he finally looks away from the picture to find your eyes peaking out from their hiding spot. His gaze softens in a heartbeat, his hand reaching out to instinctively rub your back.
From your peripheral, you recognise the group passing by and tear your gaze away from Jisung’s to find Jaemin and his friends snickering as they walk past.
“Hey (Y/N), great kiss.” Jaemin puckers his lips mockingly.
You’re not sure what hurts you more, having reality shred the mask to uncover his true, obnoxious personality to you or knowing how many years you spent pining over someone so shallow.
“Ugh.” You bury your face back into the safety of your arms, blocking out all daylight and - you hope - reality.
-
After a lot of pep-talk from Jisung, he finally managed to coax you into going to your next class. But it’s not until final period, when see Chenle enter the classroom, that you realise you hadn’t seen or heard from him since last week. You send him a smile when he makes eye contact, feeling confused when he frowns back before taking a seat on the opposite end of the room.
You find yourself casting glances in his direction throughout the class, hoping to catch him looking over at you at least once. But nothing. Not even a peep is sent your way.
“Chenle,” you chase after him. Barely five seconds after your teacher had dismissed class, Chenle had been out of the door and down the corridor. You’d had to sprint through the throngs of students just to get to him before he got out of the building. “Why’d you not sit with me?”
But your question is met with the biggest eye roll you’ve ever seen as Chenle continues to make his way out of the school grounds.
“Did I do something?” You press.
“Did you do something?” Chenle fires back at you, narrowing his eyes vehemently. “Try what you didn’t do!”
You’re dumbstruck.
“I have no ide-”
“My radio show Saturday?” Chenle sasses. Thank goodness you’re down the street by the time Chenle finally stops walking and begins exploding on you. “I had to listen to Marks lame jokes for an hour.”
“Oh my god! I’m so unbelievably sorry.” Your eyes go wide, mortified at how you’d completely forgotten about being Chenle’s guest. “I’ll make it up to you next time, I swear!”
“There won’t be a next time.” Chenle scoffs, turning away once again. “Oh,” he stops himself to mention one last thing. “and, just so you know, just because you a Princess now, doesn’t mean the only thing that matters is you.”
-
“Hey Sungs.” You mournfully approach where Jisung finishes polishing your car. The garage is oddly quiet, no music or clatter sounding in the usually busy space. No. Instead, it seems like it’s just you and Jisung here. “Thank you for taking such good care of my baby.”
“No problem.” Jisung sends you a half-smile as he hands over the keys. “She’s all yours.”
“You don’t know how much this means to me.” You warmly smile, but feel your mood drop when he doesn’t reciprocate like he usually does. There’s a silence that fills the space between you. You’ve never felt so awkward with Jisung before.
“Well… I better get going…” you try not to sound too deflated, jangling your keys in the air as you go to open your car door.
You watch as Jisung takes a step back from the car, his hands stuffed awkwardly in his pockets as he wordlessly watches you.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” You timidly look at Jisung, stopping yourself from clutching the car door handle in front of you. “You don’t think I think the only thing that matters is me, right?”
There’s a timidity to your tone that makes Jisung gulp. He knows all about the argument because Chenle had ranted down the phone to him for a hour after school and he can tell Chenle’s words have gotten to you. At the same time, however, he feels a little dumbfounded that you seem to only realise this now, after you’d had someone shout it in your face. It’s even more ironic you only ask Jisung of his thoughts when you are just about to take the finished car home. The very one that you’ve been stringing him along with for weeks. He knows he has to be honest with you.
“There were times when I would say I agree, yes.” Jisung nods. “I mean, you dropped me for Jaemin in a heartbeat and he’d never once given you the time of day before your Princess glow-up.”
“Right. I really should go…” you voice comes out hoarse. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jisung feels terrible as you spare no more time getting into your car and starting the engine. It revs to life and roars as you drive away, leaving him alone once again. But the it sinks in how much you’d made him feel used. You’d chosen to walk away from the truth when you’d asked him for it. And Jisung can’t help but feel disappointed.
-
Walking through the halls the next day you feel so insecure. Groups of students stop their conversation to stare at you as you pass, their expressions unreadable, leaving you unable to tell if they are judging you or just fascinated.
Reaching your locker in the courtyard, your eyes light up in hope upon seeing Chenle a few doors down at his locker. You watch him until he notices you, forcing a meek smile his direction when he does. But instead of him smiling back and making his way over to you, he frowns and slams his locker shut before walking the opposite direction.
You self-consciously peer around, hoping no one had witnessed that rejection and your eyes light up when you spot Jisung.
“Jisung!” You call as he walks past. But he doesn’t even acknowledge you. Instead, he picks up his pace and your eyes follow him as he catches up with Chenle. You turn back to focus on getting the right books out of your locker, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill.
How had you managed to mess up so bad that your friends won’t even acknowledge you…
With tears still in your eyes, you enter your next class with your head hanging low. You can’t bear to look up and see your two friends, knowing they won’t speak to you. Instead, you rush to the back of the room and take the seat furthest in the corner.
But when you do eventually look up towards the front of the classroom, you catch Jisung glancing your way. He turns back to face the front a split second after. But there’s as hope that flows through you from catching the longing in his expression.
Maybe there’s still a way to win them back.
-
It’s taken a few days to figure out, but you think you know how to get your friends to forgive you. Starting with Chenle.
First you have to sneak up on him so he doesn’t get away when you try to talk to him, which from his avoidance of you the past week, has proven more challenging than you thought. But you do manage to corner him in class as everyone leaves for lunch.
“Chenle, I want to make it up to you.” You plea. “I just want everything to be right between us again.” While you’ve technically been successful in talking to him, he’s still refusing to look at you. “Tell me what I can do…”
This piques his interest.
“Stop being a Princess.” He flatly states. If only he knew…
That was actually something you’d been working on, deciding days ago that you don’t think you’re cut out for accepting royal duty as a Princess. You’ve already spoken to your grandmother about this and, despite her reluctance and assurance that you would be more than capable for the role, you’d come to a mutual agreement to make no public announce until the evening of the ball.
You wish you could tell Chenle, but you can’t break your promise to your grandmother. You’re done breaking promises you’ve made.
“Well, I was thinking more along the lines of attending the independence ball this Saturday?” You send him a hopeful beam.
You take his blank expression and lack of a quick response as a good sign and continue to persuade.
“It’s invitation only…”
Chenle sighs. Damn him and his weakness for exclusivity. Plus, he’s always wanted to go to a ball and he doesn’t know when he’ll get this type of opportunity again.
“Fine!” He caves. “You’re forgiven.”
You squeal, jumping into him to squeeze him in a hug. You feel his chest vibrate with laughter and look up to finally see him smiling.
“I missed you.” You gush as you pull away and begin walking down the hallway together.
“I know.” Chenle laughs heartily when you shove him and roll your eyes.
You finally feel like you’re on the right track. If you can get Chenle to forgive you, then you’re pretty certain Jisung will too. Now you just need to find him.
-
“Wassup bro.” Chenle greets Mark as you join his table for lunch. You’re familiar with Mark because he helps Chenle out with his radio show and you’ve always found him really bubbly and sweet on the few occasions you’ve spoken.
“Sup guys.” Mark greets you both warmly. “I see you’re back on speaking terms.”
“Yep.” Chenle responds through a mouthful of food.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry about all of that.” You grimace towards Mark. “But I heard you’re on your way to becoming a comedic genius.”
“I think I’m good with sticking to the pre-scripted topics.” Mark laughs loudly.
“Oh, hey Jisung!” Chenle’s sudden shout almost makes you jump out of your skin.
You turn your attention to where Chenle looks to find Jisung casting an embarrassed side glance over to your table while trying to continue his conversation with one of his band mates Renjun.
You don’t really know Renjun, other than what you’ve observed. Even though he’s part of Jaemin’s popular group, he seems like a nice guy and there’s always been a part of you that’s been curious to know how he ended up with friends like Jaemin, Jeno and Donghyuck. All so loud and attention loving in comparison.
You watch as he bids Renjun goodbye and approaches, stuffing his hands into his pockets once he’s reached your table. It’s clear he doesn’t want to hang around…
“Aren’t you gonna join us for lunch?” Chenle snickers at his friend, his tone mocking at the way Jisung acts so hesitant.
“Actually, I-uh have,” Jisung gulps. “I have last minute band practice.”
“But you just said goodbye to Renjun?” Mark furrows his brows.
“Gotta go!” Jisung takes off as quickly as he can. He doesn’t look back when he hears you call after him, instead only ducking his head lower and picking up more speed. You have to run to catch him. Damn him and his long legs. You hate running.
“Jisung.” You pant, catching him by the arm and using all of your body weight to slow him down. He lets out a defeated sigh as he stops, knowing there’s no escaping having to talk to you now. “Please talk to me…” you beg, pleading with the best, saddest puppy eyes you can muster.
“What is there to say?” His voice comes of quieter than he wanted it to. He’s so hurt and upset with you and he wants to be able to express that. He usually can when it’s towards other people. But when it’s you on the receiving end, there’s just something that stops him. No matter how much you broke his heart.
“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have run away from what you’d said.”
Theres something in your words that makes him wake up and finally realise that he’s been running away too. Not just now. But for way too long. Jisung’s been running away from telling you how he really feels about you. For so long he’s talked himself into waiting for you to fall in love with him, to wake up and finally see that the person you should be with has been by your side the whole time. His feelings have been repressed and he’s forced himself to be invisible for too long. But he’s done with that now.
“Sungs, are you ok?” He blinks back into reality, not having realised he’d gotten caught up in overthinking for too long.
You watch him, wide eyed as he stands up straighter, determination written across his face.
“Actually, I have something I need to say.”
You nod, waiting intently.
“I’ve been an idiot for too long.” And… you’re confused. “I’ve let you walk all over me for years because I’ve been so in love with you.”
“Heck,” Jisung laughs at himself. “I even let you off when you ditched me for Jaemin because I kept telling myself that I wasn’t good enough for you.”
You feel your heart break knowing Jisung had been putting himself down like that. Any and every emotion courses through you as you try your best to take in the weight of his words.
“I-” you begin, but Jisung cuts you off before you have a chance to say anymore.
“I know you don’t feel the same… it’s ok.” Jisung forces a smile. “I just need some time apart.”
You feel like you’re suffocating, unable to voice anything as you watch Jisung walk away. Chocking on sobs as the weight of the world hits you like a ton of bricks.
You just wished you’d realised sooner. Because if you had, then maybe you wouldn’t have lost your best friend, you wouldn’t have hurt him for so long and maybe you wouldn’t have had your heart smashed to pieces like you just have.
-
“Can’t you just have someone do the speech for me?” Your voice is muted by the duvet that you insist to remain under. Your mom perched on the side of your bed as she encourages you to at least go downstairs to eat something.
It’s the morning of the annual independence ball and you’ve not left your bed since you’d gotten home the day before.
You’d had many home truths and realisations from Jisung yesterday. But cocooning yourself inside your duvet has really helped you process a lot. Like the fact that you love Jisung too… and not in just a platonic way. He’s always been there for you and you’ve taken that for granted.
You’ve been so dumb to your feelings for so long, brushing infatuation off as excitement or just that you really care for Jisung, when reality is that your heart doesn’t flip every time he smiles just because he’s your best friend. It flips every time he smiles because his smile is one of your favourite things in the world. It eases your worries and brightens your day.
Just being around Jisung makes you feel like everything’s going to be ok. He’s always so supportive and soft-natured. He takes care of you not because he’s a good friend but because he loves you.
You know that if he were to be here today, you’d be able to get through your speech this evening, facing crowds of people and answering to them why you are abdicating your royal duties. With Jisung by your side, you can get through anything.
Without him you’re lost.
Similarly, Jisung has been trying to drown out reality since he confessed to you by focusing all of his energy on his band practice and fixing up cars. He went straight from school to the garage and worked through the night to try and get his mind off of you.
Which is why he jolts awake to Chenle shouting in his ear for him to “wake up!”
“Why!” He cries, rubbing his sore neck from the poor posture of his sleep on the couch by his band’s equipment.
“You seriously slept here last night?” Chenle doesn’t hold back any judgment, raising his brow at Jisung as he grumbles out unintelligible remarks under his breath.
“I get you’re heart broken or whatever, but that doesn’t mean you should give up now.”
“Well, what else should I do?” Jisung, still sat in the chair he’d slept in, sulks like a child.
“Uh, I don’t know, go after her?” Chenle retorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“But she doesn’t feel the same, I’d just be making a fool of myself…”
Chenle scoffs. How does he not see it?
“Of course (Y/N) feels the same. It’s so obvious.” Chenle leans down to place his hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “Trust me. I’ve had to watch you both almost every day for years.”
He’s not joking. He really has. All the times he’s rolled his eyes at the way you both act so soppy towards the other. You’ve both been too wrapped up in either convincing yourself that you have no shot, or mistaking your feelings to notice.
Jisung springs to his feet. With the way Chenle remains so serious, he knows he must be telling the truth.
“I need to win her back!”
-
You frantically pack, shoving everything you can into your bag before anyone catches on to what your about to do. You feel so hopeless, like a complete failure and you know you can’t face the crowd of influential people and reporters to decline your role of Princess. So you’re running away.
You’d managed to convince your grandmother to not send a limo because your mom wanted to take you to your first ball. And you’d also lied to your mom, telling her that your grandmother had organised a limo to pick you up.
As soon as your mom had left, the race against time had begun and you’d been flying around your room packing.
You pick up the embossed faux-leather diary your grandmother had gifted you when you’d first met and found out you were a Princess, stilling when it slips from your grasp and falls open to reveal a letter that had been tucked in between the pages.
Carefully picking it up and unfolding it, you realise it’s from your father before he passed away.
His heartfelt words bring tears to your eyes as he expresses all the love he has for you and his country as soon to be King. But the final line strikes something within you that makes you rethink everything you had planned to do.
“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. From now on you’ll be travelling the road between who you think you are and who you can be. The key is to allow yourself to make the journey.”
-
Helping Jisung come up with a plan to win you back is easy for Chenle. With the independence ball being that evening, nothing could be more perfect than Jisung turning up, declaring his love and sweeping you off your feet. Just like a true Prince. So he’d offered the plus 1 you’d given him to Jisung.
Waiting in the grand hall for your arrival feels like an eternity. Everyone seems to be here except you.
“Have either of you seen (Y/N)?” Your mom rushes up to Chenle and Jisung in a slight panic. Both of them shrug, shaking their heads no in response. “She told me a limo was picking her up, but apparently she told her grandmother I was bringing her.”
Shit. There’s something in Jisung that springs into action upon the possibility that you could be in danger.
“Stall until I get back.” Jisung directs Chenle.
“Where are you going?!” Chenle shouts back, but it’s too late. Jisung’s already run off.
“Oh no no no…” you whine as your car conks out, the heavens pouring down on you and pooling in your hatch-back. “Is this what I get for messing everything up!” You shout at the sky, flopping back into your seat and sobbing your heart out.
You don’t blame the universe for this payback. You deserve it after all your selfishness. But you have been trying to make amends, to right all of your wrongs. You have every intention to go to the independence ball to share your decision in person. It’s the least your families country deserve. It’s the least your family deserve. But, right now, you’re failing. Failing at getting to the ball on time just like you failed at making amends with Jisung.
Gosh, even when you’re trying to do something else it’s still seems to end up on Jisung…
Just as you’re giving up all hope, a car horn jolts you up in your seat with a gasp. The headlights blind you momentarily as they round the corner, until the car has stopped beside you.
“Need a ride, Princess?” Your mouth hangs agape as the window rolls down to reveal Jisung in the drivers seat.
Although you can only see the top half of him, you’re heart summersaults from his attire. There he is, coming to your rescue, dressed in a black tuxedo and bow tie. He looks just like Prince Charming.
“How did you find me?” You remain in your car, unable to move from the shock… and the cold. You look like a drowned rat as the storm continues to shower down on you.
By this point, Jisung had gotten out of his car, into the pouring rain and rushed over to help lift you out of your vehicle to transfer you into the warmth and shelter of his own.
“Lucky guess.” He smirks from the drivers seat, twisting the keys and bringing the car to life again, before racing through the dark deserted streets.
You watch him from the passenger seat as he remains focused on the road, mesmerised by the steady focus of his eyes and his tight jaw, the way his hair - now wet from your rescue - drips little droplets of water onto his forehead and nose, down his cheeks to his perfectly plump lips.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You’re caught off guard by his question as it breaks the silence that had settled. You hadn’t even realised you’d been staring that long, or the fact he’d noticed.
“I was… just looking.” You blush, turning to look out your window. You’re just thankful it’s dark right now.
A few seconds go by and you begin to recognise the street just as the car pulls into your grandmothers driveway and stops at the entrance.
“Wait!” You clutch onto Jisung’s arm as he goes to open his door. He freezes from the touch before slowly twisting back to look at you. “Thank you.” You whisper.
“It was no problem.” Jisung sends you a tight lipped smile.
“No. I mean, thank you for always being there for me.” You elaborate, moving your grip down his arm until you get to his hand, entangling your fingers with his. “For loving me.”
Jisung’s breath hitches. He’s not sure what to say. It’s like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs. And the way you continue to stare at him makes him feel so warm and fuzzy and loved.
“(Y/N), I-”
“I know you said you wanted space.” You cut him off. “But I’m so lost without you.”
“Why me?” He whispers.
You slowly reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him in closer and closer until your noses touch. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe in his signature piney scent. The familiarity makes you feel like you’ve arrived back home and gives you the courage to utter your next words ever so breathily.
“Because you saw me when I was invisible.”
The next thing you know, Jisung’s lips are smashed against yours. You’re unsure which of you initiated it, not having had your eyes open in fear of his rejection. His lips are just as soft as you’d imagined they’ve be and you feel yourself unable to suppress the smile that explodes across your face, causing Jisung to smile into the kiss too.
Everything seems to fall into place again. Who knew kissing your best friend could feel so right?
Pulling apart breathlessly, you both continue to smile at each other, idiotically in love.
“We really should get inside and put Chenle out of his misery.” Jisung chuckles, only imagining the chaos he’s cause by trying to stall.
“I guess…” you trail off, sending Jisung a sheepish smirk. He knows exactly what you’re thinking. “…Or we could kiss some more?”
“We can do that later. But first, you have to tell your country you will be their Princess.”
~ bonus ~
“How’s my baby?” Jisung rolls his eyes.
“I told you to stop calling me that.” He deadpans, failing to hide the blush that tinges his cheeks from the way you smirk at him.
You know he loves it really.
“But it’s cute!” You continue to tease, laughing as you speak.
“Whatever you say Princess.”
112 notes · View notes