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toastedqueso-recs · 1 year

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Warm Summer Nights

Skateboarder!JohnnyxRollerskater!Reader

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings/Summary: Johnny is the figure head of the local skatepark, and reader is just the bane of his existence.

Johnny is mean, like seriously. Serious dub con, public, sado/masochism, mentions of blood, knife play, & degradation. This is a very self indulgent fic that I’ve been working on for forever, and I hope you enjoy. Happy summer everyone!

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If annoying Johnny Suh was wrong, it wouldn’t be so fucking fun.

Your first impression of Johnny was fear. As embarrassing as that is to admit, it’s the complete and honest truth.

He was some sort of higher figure at the skatepark, being one of the oldest guys that frequented the place as well as his height and obvious strength, people had a tendency to gawk after him.

Especially the younger kids.

They saw him as this godly man; staring when he’d be standing talking to his friends or when he’d skate by, whisper about him when he first showed up for the day, and even get shaken when he’d nod at them or make a passing suggestion on a trick they were trying to learn. He was this untouchable being, the cool older boy who was way too scary to approach, and unfortunately, you thought some of the same things when you first encountered him.

Until you realized that he was just some dude.

—

Yes he was handsome, that was undeniable and also a huge factor into the nervousness he instilled in others, but still, just a dude. And when you came to that realization, you staked your own claim on the hierarchy of the skatepark as the person who had the audacity to poke the sleeping bear that was Johnny Suh’s dwindling patience.

You blame the beginning of your small feud with the man entirely on him. You could tell the moment you and your friends started showing your faces at the park, that he had a problem with you. He denied it once when you built up the nerve to call him out on it, but you could tell from the confused furrow to his brow that he was at least a little thrown by you all in your candy colored roller skates.

He swore up and down that he wasn’t a skate elitist, that anyone and everyone that could get on a board, or slip on a pair of skates in this situation, was more than welcome to skate anywhere. But you could feel his eyes burning into you and see the tension in his shoulders every time you’d skate by him or when you’d squeal in happiness a bit louder than you had intended when you would land a new trick.

In the beginning, your friends tried to convince you the reactions were because maybe you had found a way to become his skatepark crush, but the way he’d flinch when you’d lock your eyes on his or the scrunched expression he’d adopt when you would try to spark up a conversation with any of his friends was enough to tell you that he’d be happy if you never passed through the rusted metal gates of the park ever again.

But it wasn’t until the day he snapped at you for accidentally tripping in front of him and ruining the stupid little trick he was about to do by making him catch you, did you decide that, if he was going to get annoyed by you anyways, you might as well give him something to be annoyed about.

You also kind of loved the darker timber his voice took on when he made a comment about you watching where you were going, the feeling of his rough hands wrapping around your arms, and the deep scowl on his pretty features, but you would rather eat the gum off the bottom of the bench him and his friends would crowd around than admit any of that out loud.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to provoke him.

It was late, nearing ten o’clock on a warm Tuesday night, and considering it was the night before the local schools were scheduled to get back in session, the only people who frequented the park were long since graduated or old enough to drive and determined to get one last skate in come hell or high water.

The group of rambunctious and rough guys that sat perched on the old bench like permanent fixtures could be heard far down the street, and you would know, because you could almost hear the laughs of Johnny Suh and Mark Lee crystal clear as you approached with your own personal entourage.

It took them a moment to become aware of your presence, whatever story Taeyong was animatedly telling taking such a large part of their attention that somehow they weren’t even phased by the bubblegum pop that poured from the speaker your friend had so ingeniously strapped to her hip.

It was Mark that noticed your group first though.

His face was cutely scrunched up with a laugh bigger than himself, his shamelessly opened mouth and semi violent hands being an endearing look that got you and your friends cooing whenever his name was mentioned, but also conjured confused queries of how the boy had yet to swallow a bug in the process.

But it was when his eyes opened insanely wide and his shoulders tensed from his outpouring energy at the sudden interjection that entered his mind, did his eyes catch onto yours and the friendly wave you offered him was returned with burning ears and a smack to Johnny’s bicep.

You turned fast when you saw him clueing the taller boy in, your spine shooting straight as you started to move closer to your friends. Because some weird creature that lived in the recesses of your mind told you that having Johnny catch you giving such a warm greeting to his friend would be a win for him somehow, and the wave was only for Mark, not for him.

But once Johnny was aware, all of them were. And after they were aware, came the yelling.

You were pretty well versed in the faces and names of the group of nine. All varying heights and personalities and an unfortunate amount of hilarious banter, and they were just as versed on the basic information on you and your group of terror.

But most importantly, both groups were very aware of the tension between you and the man who towered over them all.

It was never something that was deeply discussed. You never sat down to dinner with these guys and laid out a blueprint and pitched your reasoning behind the torment you liked to cause their friend, but their grins and comments and just general auras let you know perfectly well that they found it just as funny and a little bit stupid and ridiculous as your friends did.

You come to a slow stop when you hear your name specifically mixed in the boyish yelling, your friends shrugging and skating away from you as one of them offers a wink over her shoulder. You turn to see their arms wildly flailing to get your attention, and with a long huff, you start to move closer to the bench they surround.

“What is a pretty thing like you doing here on a night like this?” Yuta asks teasingly as you grab onto the back of the bench to hold yourself steady, the twisted look on Johnny’s face from his friend’s flirty tone making you roll your eyes dramatically enough that you don’t see the way Mark slaps the older man’s arm with the back of his hand.

“It’s a Tuesday…” you remind, turning to Yuta and offering him a soft smile and squinted eyes as Taeyong snorts in laughter next to him.

“Oh fuck, is it?’ He asks in genuine shock, looking around to the faces of his friends for confirmation, “I seriously thought it was a Friday.”

“You’re lucky you're cute, Yuta,” you sigh with sincerity, patting his shoulder as he brightens.

“Cute enough to get you to come home with me?” He drops his voice to be playfully sleazy, his eyebrows wiggling to show that he’s just teasing you like always.

“Hmm I don’t know…” you play along, leaning down slightly as you pretend to be deep in thought, “what can you offer when we get there?”

“Oh you have no idea,” he teases slowly, shaking his head as he flutters his eyes at you, and the way he moves his face closer to yours makes you sink your teeth into your bottom lip with a grin.

The quiet chuckles that bubble from the chests of his friends are cut off far too loudly with a scoff from the exact man you wished to ignore, and with a deep furrow in your brow, you glare up at Johnny to see his arms folded tightly in front of his chest.

“Do you have a problem?” You ask harsher than you meant to, but the irritation you feel for him bubbles up too quickly for you to stop it.

“Yeah,” he confirms as his eyes shift to the side to avoid your glance, “you’re my problem, always.”

“Sounds like Johnny’s jealous,” Taeyong pipes up with a teasing tone, leaning forward to tug at the hem of his shirt.

“Why the fuck would I be jealous?” he defends quickly, throwing his shoulders back and cracking his neck to seem unfazed, “I don’t care whatever freak shit you two get up too, I just don’t need to see it.”

“Aw come on Johnny,” Yuta coos, lifting his hands up to push against the sides of your face, forcing your mouth into a pout that doesn’t match the confused upper half of your face, “you’re telling me you don’t love seeing this cute little face.”

“That’s not his problem, Yuta,” you say condescendingly as you pull your head away from his clammy palms, “he’s just mad that I wouldn’t touch him even with a ten foot pole.”

“Oh is that what you think?” Johnny finally turns to lock his eyes onto yours, his irritation with your presence radiating off of his form and making his friends groan in annoyed anticipation for what you’ve started, “as if I could ever be jealous of him getting attention from a brat like you.”

“Oh you big, grumpy baby,” you tease, ignoring the hiss of air Taeyong pulls in through his teeth, “have you ever had fun in your entire life?”

“I don’t know, I was having a pretty great time until you showed up,” he shrugs, a frown scrunching his features.

“Well, your friends are the ones who called me over,” you defend, motioning towards the boys who are now forced to witness your bickering, “do you want to take that up with them?”

“No, I’d rather you just go away,” he says with another scoff.

“That sucks for you then, because I’m having a great time right here,” you grin up at him, smacking your hand against the back of the bench to punctuate your words, “so if you want me to leave so bad, you can make me.”

“Do you really want that?” He asks, his eyes squinting suspiciously when you confidently nod, “do you know what you’re asking for?”

“I’m not asking for anything, Johnny,” you say with a clipped tone, “I’m telling you.”

“Alright,” he nods, his irritation finally pushing him forward after having to deal with you for so long, his approaching figure making you stand up straight in shock as Mark tries, and fails, to grab him to pull him back.

“Hey-“ you start to argue, not expecting him to actually take your bait. Your words get cut off when his hand wraps tightly around your bicep, and before you can shake him off of you, he starts to drag you away. He uses the skates you wear as an advantage, your feet fumbling clumsily beneath you, before you just reach your free hand to grab the sleeve of his shirt and let him roll you away as a pout lands on your face.

You huff as he pulls you towards the back of the towering abandoned building that looms over the skate park, one of his friends yelling at your retreating bodies, “just fuck already.” The words make a flush of heat spread across your chest, and you grumble as the voice sounds far too similar to Yuta’s.

You groan when he pushes you against the wall, the brick digging into your palms as you steady yourself against it. You glare up at him as he moves to cross his hands again, but your expression slips into one of confusion when he doesn’t turn to walk away.

“What?” You ask harshly, standing straight when you’ve found your bearings, “you got me away from your little friends, so go away. You made your point, I won’t come over there again.”

“As long as you’re in this park, you get on my nerves,” he huffs, turning his head to the side as he kicks at the gravel below his feet, “doesn’t matter if you're on the other side or right next to me.”

“It’s a public park, Johnny,” you scoff, chewing on your lip when you notice he steps closer to loom over you but won’t even give you the decency to look you in the eye, instead he just leans quickly to glance around the wall to where his friends sit, “I can be here whenever I want,” you argue, trying to get his attention back on you, “I don’t give a fuck if you have some weird macho hatred for people who roller skate.”

“I told you the first time you started with that shit, I don’t care if you’re using skates instead of a board,” he groans, his eyes rolling as he finally turns to glare down at you, “I don’t hate you because of those stupid things you wear on your feet, I hate you purely for your personality.”

“Okay, then go away,” you argue, chancing a poke at his chest just to watch him flinch, “and tell your friends to stop calling me over since you have such a big fucking problem with me.”

“Do not act like you don’t go out of your way to annoy me,” he commands, his voice lowering in a way that makes you tense, “and good luck getting those idiots to make this easy on me.”

He mutters the last part under his breath, his shoulders curving forward as he clears his throat. You just look at him confused, the words coming out clearer than he probably intended and making you wonder even more why he seemingly refuses to step away.

“Maybe I wouldn’t go out of my way to annoy you, if you didn’t react the way you do,” you defend hollowly with a shrug, you know it’s not a good defense, but it’s all you have as he stares at you like that.

“So you admit it? That you do it just to get a rise out of me?” He asks with a sneer, pressing closer to your face and making your neck curve and your head bump against the wall to make more space between you.

“Obviously,” you scoff, your voice getting shakier as you speak, “I’m not doing it for my health.”

“So you like having my attention?” He still looks at you meanly as he speaks, but his tone drops into something more accusatory and suggestive, the change making you shrink slightly as he looks at you like he can read your thoughts.

“Wanting to get a rise out of you and wanting your attention are two different things,” you argue, chewing your lip as you cling to the wall, your skates almost slipping out from beneath you as you shift anxiously.

“Are they?” He smiles eerily, squinting his eyes at you as if he’s caught you in a lie, “or are you just afraid to admit you like when I’m mean to you?” His voice becomes quieter as he speaks, his tone almost disgusted as his breath hits your face from how close he’s gotten, “is that what you’re into?”

“Don’t stand there and act like you don’t get pissed off when I flirt with one of your friends,” you finally snap back, your chest puffing out when you notice him slightly falter, “what’s that all about, Johnny? Huh?” You go on, poking him sharply in the chest over and over, “I thought you just hated when I was near you, but now that you want to bring up wanting someone’s attention, I’m starting to think that you’re just being pouty because I’ve never wanted to flirt with you!”

“You need to shut the fuck up,” he warns, gritting his teeth as his hand flies up to grab your wrist, “now.”

You glare at one another in silence for a moment, the way his hard twists harshly around your wrist making it ache, but you try to will the pain you feel to not show on your face. It’s easier when the fact that it’s the first time he’s physically touched you since the day he stopped you from falling hits you, and you shamefully realize that you had wanted to feel the rough calluses on his palms again.

“Or what?” You finally spit as your nose scrunches up, your fingers twitching as he slows the blood flow to your hand, “are you gonna hurt me, Johnny?”

“Maybe,” he answers so honestly it makes your stomach drop. Johnny had a tendency to be mean, but you never saw him as a violent person, and the fact that you know he could easily overpower you makes your heart jump to your throat, “you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“I-,” you try to respond, your words getting lodged in your throat as a soft grin pulls at his face from how nervous you look, “what’s wrong with you?”

His head jerks back slightly at how genuinely you ask the question, but his smile never falls. Instead he just stares at you like a hungry shark, his tongue darting out to swipe along his bottom lip as his eyes dart around your face as he thinks.

“There’s a lot of things,” he says almost proudly, nodding at you as he clicks his tongue, “I could give you a list,” he continues, using his grip to lift your arm up slightly, “but…”

You let out a small cry of confused pain as he jerks your arm back and twists it behind you. He uses your shocked state to turn you quickly, forcing you to turn until your face and chest push into the brick wall, your arm now laying against the curve of your back as he leans his weight against you.

“I’d say the biggest thing wrong with me,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, enjoying the way your face twists at the feeling of the brick scraping against the sensitive skin of your face, “is how much I let you fuck with my head.”

“John-“

“Ah, nope,” he interrupts you, sighing out in frustration as his free hand smacks against the wall by your face, “I told you to shut the fuck up didn’t I?”

You whimper softly when he releases your arm, your shoulder aching as you slowly bring your hand up to press against the wall. You don’t make any other moves then that though, the way he leans his entire body over your entire body freezing you in place.

“Now,” he speaks slowly, his hand that was holding your arm now moving to wrap around your waist as he pulls you back against him, his hold being the only thing stopping your skates from flying out from underneath you, “you’re going to shut up,” he instructs, the anticipation of what he could possibly want from you making you shake as you turn you face away from how his lips press into your ear, “and you’re going to be good, and make up for all the hell you like to put me through, alright?”

You let out a soft grumble, not wanting to speak in fear of what he’ll do but also from the way your hand slips and gets cut slightly against the brick. You pull your hands away from the wall to hesitantly hold onto his tense forearm, and as you glance down at the way you now hold onto one another, you see the way your palms leave small streaks of blood on his skin.

“I told you to shut up, not ignore me,” he scoffs, moving his hand away from the wall in front of you to grab onto your jaw and force you to nod as he pushes in your cheeks, “yes, Johnny,” he says, slipping into a patronizing tone as he turns your face towards him, “of course, Johnny. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

He smiles almost sweetly as you start to nod on your own, your lips wobbling as you stare at him with wide eyes. So many parts of your body ache now, and it feels like your heart is racing a mile a minute, but you can’t ignore the way your stomach twists at the way he speaks to you. His hands grip onto you in a way that’s so familiar to the day he caught you, but the intentionally added roughness to them makes you shrink as you realize you enjoy it.

“Good,” he praises, his hand tapping against your cheek as he leans in to brush his nose against yours.

When his mouth pushes against yours, it almost doesn’t feel real. The chapped skin of his lips brushing against yours as he leans in and sinks his teeth into your bottom lip to keep you in place. You moan out in pain as bites you harshly, and when he takes advantage of your opening jaw to lick at the back of your teeth, you feel yourself sinking into the painful kiss.

You barely notice the way his hand falls away from your face as you messily kiss him back, his fingers trailing down your neck and past your chest until they slip under the hem of your shirt. He uses both hands to slowly lift the fabric up, taking your bra along with it until your chest is exposed and your top bunches under your armpits. If it wasn’t for the warm summer air licking at your skin, you would have been too lost in the taste of his tongue to notice the lack of coverage you have on your body, but the way his hands cup against your chest as he pinches both your nipples between his fingers was enough to clear some of the fog in your head.

You gasp quietly at the way he tugs at your chest, rolling your nipples between his fingertips until they stand at attention and start to ache from hard he squeezes. Your face scrunches at the pain that shoots across your skin, your chest heaving from your panting breaths as he refuses to let you pull away from his lips. Part of you wants to reach up and take his hands away from your body, but as the pain trickles into something else, a warm heat washes over your body and centers in your lower belly. So you just keep your hands locked around his forearms, squeezing his tense arms as you let him play with your body however he wishes.

You let out a soft sigh of relief when one of his hands moves to smooth down your stomach, the other still abusing your chest but giving you at least partial relief. His blunt nails scrape roughly against your skin, leaving burning marks from your rib cage and all the way down until he hits the waistband of your skirt. And when you feel his fingers start to wiggle under the fabric, you start to squirm again.

You want to say something, but your brain struggles to form any thoughts as he continues to kiss you sloppily. The voice in the back of your head continues to remind you of his command to keep quiet, and with that and the way your combined saliva starts to drip down your chin, you’re lost even if you had come up with something to say to the man groping your weakening body.

You still mutter aimless sounds when he pushes his hand into your underwear, his wandering fingers sinking inside the fabric until he can pinch at your clit with the exact roughness he uses on your chest. Your thighs twist together, trembling as he plays with your cunt, but he pushes against them as his middle and ring fingers slip down until they prod at your clenching entrance.

“There it is,” he puffs in amusement against your mouth, his eyebrows raising when your eyes flutter open to look at him, the pathetic puppy eyes you offer him making him smile in disbelief as he shakes his head, “I knew you’d be wet, you fucking whore.”

Broken noises crack from the back of your throat as you try to find words to defend yourself, but as his fingers dip shallowly inside you, you can hear the slick sounds of the arousal that spills out of you.

“Who fucking knew?” He asks, pecking you softly beneath one of your fluttering eyes, “I could have gotten you to shut that loud mouth of yours this whole time? Just needed to put my fingers in the right places, huh?”

Your lips pull into a pout as the heel of his palm starts to push into your clit, not moving to give you the friction you need, but enough for you to be aware of how he has complete control of your body. You mindlessly try to tilt your hips down to grind against him, or push his fingers deeper inside, but when he jerks you up by his hold on your chest, you lean back against him with a small apologetic noise.

“Now usually,” he starts, still using a tone that makes you feel like a puppy being scolded, “I’d warm you up, stretch you out a little before I stuff you full,” he gnaws on his lip at the suggestion of fucking you, the way thoughts flow through his mind showing clearly on his pretty face, “but I don’t think you’ve earned that, little one.”

You let out a sound of confusion as he pulls his hand out of your underwear, trailing the arousal that stuck to his fingers across your belly before he smooths his palm up your side. The hand that remained pressed into your chest now moves to curve under your armpit, holding you up carelessly as he brings his other palm to press sternly at the back of your neck.

You let out a groan when shoves you back into the wall, the hold he has on your neck making the brick press not only into your face, but now your bare chest scrapes against it as well. Your nipples still sting from the treatment they were dealt from his fingers, but now the pain is only amplified by the jagged texture of the old worn brick.

You’re forced to grasp at the wall with your already wounded hands as he moves his hands to smooth down your back, small chips of brick getting embedded into the cuts on your palms as he digs his fingers into your tense muscles. He lets out lewd groans of approval as he stares at your curving spine, and when he starts to mess with the waistband of your skirt again, you hiccup in anticipation.

“Do you think your friends know what you’re doing right now?” He asks rhetorically as he tugs at the fabric that rests on your shaking thighs, “or are they just skating around, totally oblivious to the fact that their little ring leader is letting the guy you hate do whatever he wants to you?”

You sigh at the thought of your friends, knowing they were just around the corner from the distant sound of the music that spills from one of their speakers. When Johnny first dragged you away, you knew there was no way they didn’t see it, and you were hoping at least one of them would come to at least mediate the inevitable argument. But now, as he starts to pull your skirt up, you pray they don’t come looking for you anytime soon.

You feel your skirt drape over your back, your underwear now visible to Johnny’s greedy eyes and hands. He takes a moment to stare at the way the thin fabric wraps around your hips, before he starts to slowly drag them down your thighs. He lets them fall unceremoniously around your ankles, tangling around your skates and making standing straight even more difficult for you. You try to widen your stance slightly, hoping it’s enough to stop them from touching the ground below you, but when you hear a quiet ripping as they get trapped around your wheels, all you can do is pout.

“You know how many times I’ve thought about this?” He sighs, keeping on hand on your hip as he uses the other to mess with the button of his jeans, “watching you skate around in your cute little outfits, coming over to flirt with my friends like a shameless little slut,” he spits the word harshly, the sound of his zipper falling adding to the shiver that licks up your spine, “and every time, I just couldn’t help but want to bend you over and fuck you in front of them. Make you cry and let everyone know that you are nothing but a shit talker.”

You lean into the hold he has on your hip when you feel the first brush of his length against you, his tip prodding against your clit as he shifts his hips closer to your body. He pushes himself into your skin, slipping against your wetness and making you whimper at the small bites of stimulation.

“You want me to fuck you so bad,” he claims boldly as he pushes his entire length to drag against you, teasing you as he coats himself with your arousal, “I can see it in your eyes every time you look at me,” he taunts, “your just too much of a prideful brat to admit it out loud, so instead you were just pushing my buttons until I broke. Isn’t that right?”

You try to mumble in disagreement, your skin flushing in embarrassment from his accusations and from how big he feels just from grinding against you, but your confidence gets lost in the panting breaths that come rattle out of your lungs.

“No?” He asks, seeing the way you try to shake your head without scraping your cheek up even more, “well, from the way you’re dripping down your thighs and all over my dick, I’m going to have to assume that’s just another lie you like to tell yourself.”

His nails digs into the skin of your hip as he finally starts to push into you, his earlier threat of not wanting to stretch you open not making you nervous until now. He’s only sunk in a couple of inches, but the sting of his size opening you up is enough to make you feel like you’re about to be split in half.

Your eyes roll painfully as he thrusts shallowly into you, your nails clawing at the brick as you go breathless. With every thrust, he pushes deeper, filling you more and more with him as all you can do is stand there and wonder how much you have left to go.

“Admit it,” he demands, his own voice straining a bit, but not enough to take away the dominance in his tone, “admit that every time you came crawling over to annoy the fuck out of me, you were just dreaming the day I’d finally put you in your place.”

“No I- fuck,” you swear, interupting your own denial when he cants his hips sharply, “I w-wanted… I just wanted you to stop acting like you owned the place.”

“Is that so?” He hums as both his hands move to wrap around the dip of your waist, “well, looks like I don’t only own the park, but I own you too.”

You cry out as your hands slip away from the wall, his arms tensing as he tugs you back roughly and brings your ass flush against his hips. He fills you entirely now, and as he keeps you pressed and grinding against him, your entire body squirms from his intrusive size.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust or collect your spiraling thoughts before he starts shoving you forward. He stays frozen in his spot, digging his feet into the ground as he uses the hold he has on you to fuck you down onto him like you were just a toy.

“Guess these stupid little skates are good for something,” he scoffs, impressed with the way they aid in him moving you at any pace he wishes, “you look so cute bouncing on my dick.”

Your hands fly out wildly as you try to stop your head from smacking against the wall in front of you, the way he pushes deep inside you with every move making it hard for you to do anything but fall limp in his hands. You try to stand straighter, to shift your legs in a way that will make his size less overwhelming to your aching body, but everything is done in vain as he handles you like you're a doll made for his pleasure.

Your teeth clench harshly, a dull ache shooting through your jaw as tears start to prick at your fluttering eyes. He moves you against him so quickly, jostling you until your head drops between your shoulders, and when he finally starts moving his hips to meet yours again, soft sobs start wracking through your chest.

You feel every curve and ridge of him drag against your burning nerves, a harsh slapping noise blossoming between you as he drills into you until your eyesight goes blurry. One of your hands flies back to grab onto his, and as you feel your legs start to weaken until your knees press together, your nails sink deeply into the skin of his knuckles.

“You pathetic little thing,” he sighs as the hand that you don’t grip slides up between your rib cage, his fingers pausing to painfully grope your chest again, until you feel them slink up your throat, “am I too big for you?”

You murmur incoherent pleads of agreement, hoping he takes pity on you if you’re honest. You’re not sure how much you can handle of him pulling you apart from the inside, but every second he shoves himself back into your clenching entrance makes you feel like you're on the edge of collapsing.

“That’s too bad,” he coos, his fingers wrapping tightly around your neck before he pulls you up until your back presses against his chest, your head immediately turning so you can look into his squinted eyes, “gonna split you open until you can’t even stand on your skates.”

Your tears spill over as he presses his fingers deeper into the sides of your neck, your head going dizzy as he leans to speak darkly into your ear. Your sobs come out broken and scratch up your drying throat, and when he tilts his head to drag his tongue along the tear streak that lays from your jaw to the hollow beneath your eye, your jaw falls open in shock.

He stills in your for a split second, your legs shifting uncomfortably as he stays completely seated inside you, before he steps to push you back into the wall. You're grateful for the hold he has on your neck, the only thing stopping the skin of your face from being abused by the brick, but the way your chest heaves makes the jagged texture of the wall bite at your nipples with every breath.

You feel an impending sense of doom linger over your head as his hand falls away from your side, the fact that it doesn’t shift to another part of your body making your eyes dart around his flat expression in confusion. You hear a shifting sound of fabric, and a small clicking noise, but you can’t form the thoughts to question what he’s doing as he starts rolling his hips into yours again.

The small whimpers and broken moans that fall from your swollen lips are muffled quickly by his hand moving up from your neck. He claps his fingers tightly against the lower half of your face, his palm pressing your lips shut again as he digs into the stinging raw flesh of your cheek. You feel your eyebrow furrow tightly in confusion, your eyes blinking rapidly as you silently ask him what he’s doing, but all he does is smile brightly.

He doesn’t falter the movements of his hips as he brings the glittering object in his hand into your line of sight, the pleasure that floods your belly being too distracting for you to focus your eyes on the pointed object long enough to register what it is. But when he curves his hand back around you until the sharpened side presses into the fragile skin of your bruising neck, realization washes over your body and your eyes widen in panicked arousal.

“Touch yourself,” he commands as his lips press against the back of the hand covering your mouth, tilting the old pocket knife until it dimples your skin and makes you shiver from the coolness of the metal, “let me feel how tight you can really get when you come around me.”

Your eyes press tightly closed when you feel the pointed end of the knife bite into your neck, your body going taut as your hand shakily slips down the brick wall. The way he continues to moves hips at the perfect angle was amplified at the first touch of the metal against your throat, the fact making your body flush in shame as tears continue to stain your face and puddle against his hand, but when you hesitantly brush your fingers against your neglected clit, you feel your mind blank from any thoughts.

All you can feel is him. The way he stretches and stuffs you full, how his strong hands grip your face until your head is forced to lean against his shoulder, and the way he steadily holds the knife against your skin even though you can hear how affected he is by the way you wrap around him from how he huffs deeply into your ear. The pain in your chest, face, and hands are a second thought as you're consumed by the presence of the man behind you, and as you slip your fingers to toy with yourself, you get a brief feeling of his length as it pushes in and out of you. Your hips start to roll wildly in blooming excitement, your body clenching tightly around him making a soft groan slip past his tongue.

“There you go,” he breaths, his breathless voice showing his own excitement as you start to melt against him again, “you mindless little whore.”

You moan into his palm as your fingers start to circle messily against your clit, your back arching and pushing your chest tighter against the wall as his words stab at your core. You feel your dripping arousal start to sting at the small cuts that litter your fingers, but the sharp pain only makes you press harder into your skin as your body starts begging for release.

You feel the muscles in your stomach start to flex tightly, your shoulders curving back as sounds continue to bounce against his twitching hand. Your breath comes out in uneven puffs as his index finger pushes painfully against your septum, and when he tilts his hips until he digs into a spot inside you that makes stars dance behind your eyelids, you let out a muffled scream into the bubble of atmosphere that absorbs your bodies.

He holds you tighter as you start to come, your free hand abandoning the wall in front of you and staining him with more of your blood as you grasp at the wrist of his hand that pushes your lips roughly into your clattering teeth. You depend on his hold completely as you legs shake and clench violently as pleasure rushes up your spine, and he happily holds your weight as he shoves himself past your tightening entrance.

“You stupid fucking brat,” he swears, his endeared tone not matching the harsh words he spits at you. His hips start to stutter against you, before he stills and starts jostling your body again. The way he handles you and forces you down on him roughly is an overwhelming shock to your already shaken system, and you feel your body go limp as your orgasm continues to rattle under your skin.

He shoves you down one last time with all the strength left in his body, the force of your bodies colliding making him stumble back slightly as he starts to come deep inside you. He groans deeply through gritted teeth as his grip loosens around his pocket knife, your walls fluttering around him as he pulses inside you, and you hear the dull sound of the metal clattering against the concrete as you feel the evidence of his orgasm spill into you in obscene amounts.

He stays pressed against you for a moment, not releasing you from his hold as your heartbeats settle in your chests, and you're grateful that he doesn’t let you collapse at his feet. You cling to him desperately, your thoughts slow and panicked as he breathes deeply in your ear, and when you pull your shaking hand from between your thighs, he reaches to tangle your fingers before he wraps his arm around your waist.

You whimper quietly as he pulls out of you, his hand slipping away from your mouth and letting the sound be heard clearly. He smooths his palm across your face gently, swiping the drying tears and bead of sweat from your skin, before he joins it with his other arm and presses his face into the curve of your neck.

“I-“ he starts, testing his croaking voice and brushing his lips against your tender skin, “you’re coming home with me, okay?” He says, the words not coming out as a question as much as they do a command as his voice drips in jealousy.

“Okay,” you agree softly, nodding as your eyes slowly slide shut as you sink into his oddly comforting hold.

“You’re done playing with those little boys over there,” he says like a warning, his lips brushing against the tender skin of your throat, “you belong to only me now.”

#johnny #smut #dubcon #he was a sk8rboi she said see you later boi...only for this to happen

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toastedqueso-recs · 1 year

Text

change in you | l.jn

→ turned vampire!lee jeno x vampire queen!reader

synopsis: centuries of slumber can do much to a hungry queen, what else than to take it out on the one who woke you up?

genre: vampire au, queen of the damned au, georgian era/historical au, smut, horror (?)

tw: adults only! if you’re not of legal age do not read this! dom/sub/switch dynamic, corruption, biting, blood/blood letting/drinking, oral (m + f receiving), deepthroating, very rough sex, unprotected sex, semi size kink, cock bulge, cum swallowing, creampie, fingering, religious guilt/mentions of religion, mentions of abusive parents, death (not mcs)

wc: 11.4k+

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol. read at your own discretion.

song(s): change (in the house of flies), digital bath—deftones | if I was your vampire—marilyn manson | strangers—the rose | little dark age—mgmt

an: happy halloween here's my gift and my contribution for not giving jeno smut in air bag and for being gone for nearly 2 years. also I wrote this before the 127 vampire agenda so enjoy vampire jeno

Fear.

Jeno had always been brought up to learn that God was the only one he should fear. That God was the only one to dictate what would happen if he was to sin.

His first encounter with God’s wrath was when he had grown to be considered both a man and a child. Jeno didn’t know much about the world but he did know about the word of God from his religious mother who spent the majority of his life forcing them down his throat until he was able to attend school.

Even when he wasn’t in school and his studies were done, she’d drag the boy to the chapel and continue to teach him about the word of God over and over again until he wept once she forced sins he hadn’t committed out of his bloodied mouth from the slaps she’d given him when he denied any.

His first encounter came through the actions of his father’s own sins. As he always did, the boy had walked to the chapel down the road from school. Mother had engraved into his head that after learning the subjects at hand, especially science– he was to pray for forgiveness if he was to believe all those ‘zannies’(1) told him to.

And so as he crossed the worn-down wooden doors and up the aisle to the marble altar table in which he laid his lit candle as an offering, the boy made his way down the steps, leaning down on a kneeler.

Tongue tied as he looked up at the crucifix, glaring down at him for all his thoughts— Jeno closed his eyes hoping that would help him let out what he was conditioned to believe were sins.

His feeble fingers overlapped to create a cross with his thumb and index, bringing them to his forehead, chest, left and right shoulder, just to finish at his trembling lips. “In nomine Patris et Filii, et Spiritus Sanсti…” (2)

Jeno lowered his head, struggling to bring words out of his mouth and despite knowing he had to confess with a priest, he opted to leave it up to God himself. His ‘sins’ were nothing but guilt embedded by his mother but that same guilt was the reason he was here.

He forced it out, even if they weren’t true— Jeno forced out sins that his brain created and made him believe he did. This was the worst part of prayer, knowing he didn’t do anything but making himself feel worse for not doing anything.

But because of that guilt, his true sin came to flourish that same moment. Moans of pleasure rung inside his ears. They were soft mewls at first but as he grew concerned, they became louder to let him know they were real and not just his sinful creations.

He didn’t know what caused them, never in his life had he heard something so unearthly but captivating. He had heard of mermaids who sung their hypnotizing songs at bay and lured fishermen in just to devour them once the men were finally enchanted. He figured this was the same sound the mermaids made but he didn’t think it was quite as beautiful as the men had described.

The louder they got the more of a screech it sounded like. His knees tore away from the worn-out leather of the kneeler, dusting off whatever dust particles stuck to his breeches. He felt his knees ache the moment he extended them but that minimum amount of pain was not compared to the following.

He looked around, the chapel was empty and the crucifix looked at him more angry than minutes before as if it had now dictated what would happen to him in the next few minutes. The gold embedded decorations around it shining bright despite the dim lighting within, only illumination coming from the lit candles all left as offerings or thanks for the completed miracles.

Jeno’s steps echoed through the chapel just like the moans they chased. He figured they came from outside the chapel and back to the nun quarters given every door inside were open and showed no sign of human beings.

With the realization that no one was around, Jeno had changed his thought of mermaids and into the paranormal. He had heard stories of women dying inside the chapel. Most of the time those abandoned by their lovers in the altar and opting to take their life rather than facing the mockery of the people knowing they’d be labeled ‘the unlovables’ which would only push away future prospects.

Now he figured those wails and moans came from their ghosts, trying to scare him for lying about his sins and for the torment he put himself through. His body shook now, his blood ran cold across his body the moment he stepped out of the chapel from the back into the nun’s courtyard.

It was empty, abandoned to be exact. No one in sight to tell him to get out and it scared him more than the wails now. He knew the unprivileged children had been taken on a trip to the mountains by the nun’s but he didn’t think all of them would be gone.

He was right of course, as he walked further down the courtyard and into the last few rooms; Jeno heard the moans louder than ever. He had found the location of his terrors and as he leaned in closer to decipher if it was real or a product of the ghosts; he heard a familiar voice.

Jeno heard the raspy deep voice of a man in there along the loud wails. It was so familiar, painfully so. He heard how it cooed at the moaning person to take it like they always do. In gratitude the moaning outlet hummed, responding with a nasty high pitched “Always…”

Upon hearing the words he hears daily: “—Sweet Petunia!” Jeno burst open the door, bells loudly ringing inside his head, making his eyes run from side to side in a matter of insanity. The people behind the doors, laying on bed in a position he didn’t know but could feel was wrong.

“Father!...” Jeno exclaimed, His lip quivering at the scene in front of him. Jeno couldn’t say if this was wrong or right but he knew what sin looked like and this felt like a major sin. In a matter of seconds, his father had removed his naked figure from Sister Merida, dressing himself quickly. The young girl rushed to cover herself with the blanket underneath her as Jeno tried his best not to stare at her for long. There he committed yet another sin.

She wasn’t much older than him, only a few years but his father was a ragged old hag pushing 60 and for him to be messing around with a young woman along being married to the neurotic person his mother was— Jeno had finally known how much of a disgusting sinner his father was.

Jeno learned much that day. He finally learnt what ‘thou shall not commit adultery’ meant in the ten commandments when his father had taken a grip of his black locks and pulled at them all the way back to the chapel, leaving Sister Merida to dress herself.

He felt immense pain from the tugging, his scalp ached and so did his knees when his father brought in pebbles from outside, forcing his oldest son to kneel on top of them and repeat his daily prayers very slowly. Using his wrinkled hands to push on his shoulders so he felt the pain of the pebbles making indents on his flesh even more.

He wept and wept, pleading for help knowing that he didn’t commit any sin besides look too long at Sister Merida’s body and for that he repented enough. “My sins are your sins and to make you avoid my sins, you ought to pay for them!” His father yelled at him, watching the stream of tears run painfully across his son’s face.

What ensued next was his father dragging him out of the chapel to the Nun’s quarters, and through the backdoor in the kitchen to which the both walked through the woods and to their home. His mother had been waiting in worry given the boy had taken so long to come back home and dinner was ready, becoming colder by the minute now.

Her worry grew when he saw her husband cling his hand against their son’s arm. Crimson anger on the elder’s face.

“Your pure clean son— Nothing but a sinner! Caught him peeking at Sister Merida when changing her robes. He’s nothing but a deviant! You preach and preach cleanliness but look at what I brought you. Nothing but useless, all of you! Especially you!” His father pointed at the woman.

Her body shook and his tears reflected on her face. The moment his father let go of his arm and made him drop to his knees to plead at his mother— Jeno cried even more begging her to believe that it wasn’t true, that he wasn’t a pervert like his father made him out to be.

As he kept begging and crying, the back of his mother’s hand came across his perfectly sculpted face. Not only once but at least four times since after she opted to get the wooden spoon she was to use to serve the food and beat him until he shook from the pain.

“Thou shall not commit adultery, thou shall not bear false witness against thy neighbor, and thou shalt honor thy father and thy mother!” Her last streak had exhausted her, pulling out a chair to sit and watch her son cry in pain for a sin he didn’t commit but rather his father.

As his mother looked at the damage she made, the weltz on his skin, and clothes ripped by how hard she was hitting him. She was a sinner too, a bigger sinner than he was and by her sins he was paying the price now.

“Our sins are your sins.”

That’s the fear he knew and something he never wanted to experience again. For the following years, Jeno gave out and allowed his parents to dictate his life. If he was to sin through them, then he opted to live as their shadow so he could at least know he was guilty if he followed their lead.

With his father’s obsession with the violin after their trip to France for merchandise, the old man had forced him to become a musician on the side, knowing well his son would still take the family business once he died.

That obsession is what led to where Jeno was now. After finding an abandoned mansion behind the graveyard and in front of the river, in which Jeno could practice away from those complaining about the noise— the old man sat across his son, satisfaction on his face and anger whenever he missed a note.

As he continued to chastise his son for small errors, Jeno grew angry. It was becoming obvious and with that his father laughed, continuing his mockery and berating, making Jeno’s actions against the violin become violent.

The bow harshly sliding against the strings, their screams of pain louder by the second as Jeno tried to drown his father’s belittling in order to avoid yet another sin and the consequence of it. He heard laughter, it was becoming louder than the screeching of his bow and violin, and just as he had felt the anger run to his head and ready to strike at his father after having enough of it— The mirror on the wall cracked, causing both males to turn in fear.

They watched intently as the glass shards became smaller and smaller as they fell to the ground, revealing what seemed to be a body behind the frame. His father full of fear now and feeling his heart begin to stop, closed his eyes cowering behind his son.

In you came, your limbs weak and in pain after centuries of being forcefully asleep in the confines of a wall. Beginning to move them, they creaked from the lack of movement. You didn’t make a noise besides groan at the pain that soon stopped when you stood in front of the young man.

“Why must you wake me?” Your voice was horse but upon hearing it, Jeno’s chest clamped up feeling speechless. If there was more to the feeling of sin, you were sin personified.

Wearing nothing but a gold brasier that was made to fit only you and a flimsy cloth (visible to not leave much to the imagination) around your waist that was only held by a band of gold— Jeno was now aware of what a woman of sin looked like and he for once did not see sin as bad.

He couldn’t speak, he bit down on his tongue hard enough trying to figure it out. If it wasn’t because you felt a rising urge when looking at his face and body, his silence would’ve made him your first meal after years of slumber.

Yet with his father behind him, the old man pinched the lower back of his son, causing him to break out of the daze you put him through. Stumbling on his words and fear coursing through him, Jeno finally spoke.

“Please forgive me, I didn’t intend to— I-I didn’t know you were even behind there.” He pleaded, Jeno knew this was supernatural. Not everyone suddenly breaks free from behind a mirror with a vestment that was highly inappropriate for these times and would grant her death.

You could smell the fear, surely. It was cute, endearing how pathetic he was acting. “Y/n… Queen y/n. The Great Mother.” Walking closer to him, your hand lifted. Running your fingers to caress his strong cheekbones and jaw, Jeno shuddered at the feeling of a woman touching him.

“Whom would you be, darling?” You questioned, your left hand mimicking the movements on his face to his neck, nails softly scratching to find his pulse. “Jeno… I don’t have titles, your highness.” At the title he called you, your teeth took your lower lip, hunger and desire being the first to awaken after these centuries.

You chuckled at his nervous words, the cracking of his voice more evident when your finger ran across his lower lip, causing his breath to hitch in the back of his throat. He was so new to this feeling. To the feeling of arousal and despite his last experience of adultery after catching his father with Sister Merida was when a merchant’s daughter (friend of his father) had enticed him to kiss her and touched him, it did not amount to what he is feeling now with only your gracing touch.

“May I grant you a gift? My gratitude for awakening me.” Your voice softened and lowered, eyes hooded as you stared at him making sure he looked directly into your own eyes as you held his jaw and neck.

“Yes…”

In a breath he let it out, leaning in you connected your lips onto his. In the instance in which you kissed him, Jeno felt the poisoning of your perpetual sin. He wasn’t married to you and here he was, his lips moulding against yours quite perfectly. Opening his mouth when you opened yours— Jeno felt happy that he was sinning for once.

Your tongues enveloped each other and as you were to finish the kiss, your teeth sunk into his lower lip, making him groan in pain, letting you lick off the blood you had drawn. He stood in pain, holding his lip with his own teeth, letting some of the blood drip to his fingers which you took with your own, savoring his sweet taste.

“You filthy wrench, tainting my son and now a sinner you’ve become again.” The hateful words coming from his father broke the both of you out of the trance you’d created. Full of new rising anger, you turned to the old man who looked at you with obvious lust and jealousy of your choosing. Jeno was feeling no different, clear anger rested on his gaze, one that had never occurred to him in the past, not even when his mother beat him into submission years ago.

“Whom might you be?” It wasn’t the softness you received Jeno with but still enticing enough. A smirk ran on your lips, making your fangs visible enough. Though the old man didn’t notice, Jeno did. Making his blood run cold again, fearing he’d be your next meal after you’ve finally had a taste of him.

He tried convincing himself that he was wrong, that vampires didn’t exist but upon the way you had woken, the look on your face, and the way you tried to not waste any drop of his blood— he was completely sure that you were one.

Chuckling knowing it was his turn and hoping to get a gift like his son did (much to your great disgust at his idea of familiar sharing), he spoke. “His fat—”

“An offering, My Queen.”

Both turned to look at him. Clear freight and surprise in his father’s face. Never has he interrupted him in all of his years of being alive let alone offered him like a piece of meat. That didn’t matter to you, he was here with an offering— a disgusting one but with an offering.

Was it not because you were parched and you didn’t want to waste Jeno’s sweet blood— the old man would suffice.

“Are you mental? You’re offering thy father?!” He began to argue, turning to his son and raising his fists, beginning to hit his arms and near face to which his son began to whimper. You didn’t let him go further; taking a tight grip of his arms, making him groan in pain at the crushing feeling.

As he whitered, your teeth clung to his neck, hard enough to make him squeal like a pig when the butcher deemed its time. Jeno watched in horror how his father’s blood sprayed across the room, most onto him, leaving his clothes filthy.

He watched you in horror, he didn’t know why he offered his father’s life. Jeno would never do something as sinful as that, or so he thought because here he was, watching a hungry vampire queen drain his father from his blood and feeling no pain from loss but rather fear with how it’ll be brought up on judgement day.

Jeno trembled, his father’s body had dropped dead in front of his feet as a reminder of his doings, a pool of blood surrounding the three of you. His only instinct was to look around. He focused on the portrait decorations on the walls, all looked recent. The walls themselves are decorated with new wallpaper, the pastel colors bright despite the sun beginning to set already.

The furniture was painted in red, reminding him of what he just did. As he analyzed everything severely, he wasn’t so sure that this was an abandoned home anymore and rather his father had broken into it. He should’ve figured when everything was spotlessly clean and the only broken thing was the door from where his father had broken in.

Upon hearing your gagging, Jeno broke out of his fearsome daze. Getting the courage to look at his father again before running to you, helping you up. “Next time— don’t punish me with a rotten corpse, I only appreciate it for I am hungry.” Your last words, making his fear grow again.

You sensed it though, a giggle leaving your lips upon seeing his widened eyes. “I won’t feast on you as long as you’re a good boy.” Wiping away the blood from your mouth, your lips pecked the corner of his mouth. “Now close your eyes for a few seconds and hold me tight.”

Jeno felt that surge of sin again, when you took his hands into yours he felt the heat of arousal commence but it only got worse when you took those hands and placed them on your bare hips, causing him to softly gasp. He hadn’t touched a woman before, a woman had touched him but it didn’t spark this feeling. Perhaps it’s your vampiristic essence that’s making him feel insane but sure you were a woman he needed in his life.

His hands made their way from your hips to your back as he wrapped his arms around you, holding tight to your body like you told him. You yourself felt that heat he was feeling, it was so obvious how innocent he was despite his grown age but given the way his father treated him, this boy was nothing but emotionally weak.

Gracing the pads of your fingers against his eyelids, helping him shut his eyes for a few seconds. Jeno couldn’t deny that he was slightly scared that his fate would be the same as his father when you closed his eyes but upon feeling your lips on his again as a form of waking him up; Jeno relaxed into the cushioned feeling of your now less chapped lips against his.

Once he opened them, he felt a sense of awe and amazement seeing the amount of gold around him. Jeno hadn’t seen so much money at once ever before let alone this much gold so it all felt like a dream.

One moment he was getting berated by his father once again and the next thing he knew, he was in a golden palace with a hungry vampire queen that if she wanted, would surely drain him of his own blood too. It was whiplash what he felt.

His curiosity and overwhelmedness hadn’t gone ignored by you, you figured he needed time to relax about the happenings let alone the death of his own father. Caressing his face again, his arms not unraveling from you just yet, you smiled leaning in for yet another kiss that he didn’t even think twice about.

This was the most sexual attention he has gotten in years and despite them being simple, he was melting at your touch and taste. As your tongue swiped across the lip you had bitten; your hesitation made him slightly pull away to look at you. “Is everything alright?” He questioned, his hands unconsciously rubbing at your bare flesh. You simply nodded, not trusting your voice around him furthermore regarding the subject.

Your fingers running to his chest, unbuttoning the hand sewn-in buttons of his waistcoat; you spoke, “Take a bath, you’re very tense.” Pushing the waistcoat off his shoulders and down to the golden floor, you took his hand into yours, leading the way to the tub built into the floor.

Contrary to the golden decoration within, the tub was entirely marble like the altar table he saw before his first taste of unowned sin. The floor was decorated with fresh rose petals as was the water. Dipping his hand in, he could feel warmth, something that was rare to attain when bathing at home as they’d have to make the water last, only getting a bucket each for their cleansing.

By the moment he was to thank you, your person was gone making him shudder at the realization. Of course it didn’t bother him much, he would be more bothered if he had to strip fully in front of you, so once he knew you weren’t around, Jeno pulled on his breeches, socks, and pulled off his frilled blood sprayed white tunic, being left in nothing but nude.

Jeno couldn’t deny he felt some sense of peace. His overbearing, filthy sinner of a father was dead and gone. He felt like a weight had just been lifted off of his shoulders and the sins of his father were not his anymore except only his and his mother’s.

Just as he slid into the tub, the warm water coating his body and rose petals sticking to his well defined body, (which thanks to his father forcing him to do every single heavy lifting task, he looked like this) Jeno began to feel the weight of his father’s death on him only for the sheer presence of his mother in his mind.

If he had never thought about his mother and how she’d force down his father’s sins on him once she found out, he would have full heartedly enjoyed his bath. It wasn’t fair that his father died knowing his sins were stuck to Jeno as he refused to take responsibility for his actions. It wasn’t fair that if his mother found out, he was to get the beating of his life and for real she would fulfill her promise of using the branding iron on him to teach him what sin feels like in hell.

He knew she would do anything for his father, even if it meant taking away his sins and giving them to their eldest child for him to suffer just for the filthy, cheating, poor excuse of a man wouldn't leave her with three useless children.

In frustration and anger, Jeno closed his eyes. Submerging his body furthermore in the tub to the point where his head disappeared from the surface and he could think about either drowning himself and carrying the sins of his parents to judgment day or— well there’s no or, all he knew was that he did not want to deal with the pain and guilt his parents have put him through anymore. Even so he didn’t have it in him to not live, he wanted to know what life felt outside of his parental grasp.

Rising from the water, Jeno ran his hands down his face. Pushing away as much water from it as he could so he could open his eyes. Still no sign of you, water dripping from his hair to his face, Jeno looked all around hoping to find you.

With no luck, he sighs heavily before going back to relax his body against the cold marble tub, his eyes falling heavy as he tries to fight off the guilt that has been engraved and carved into his brain his entire life.

He was like a fawn, delicate but quick to learn about his position in the world. Perhaps that’s what made him so endearing to you. He was naive and easy to handle, he didn’t put up a fight and his spurts of fear never lasted.

Perhaps it’s your hunger and desire speaking, but hidden behind the sheer curtains surrounding the tub area; you admired his body and how it flexed. He might be weakly minded but physically— there was nothing weak about him.

After tending the abandoned palace in which you once resided, the smell of blood coursed through your nostrils making you rush back to the room where he enjoyed his bath. Jeno had begun nibbling on his lip after he rose from the water, his frustration making him break the skin once again, forcing the blood to softly ooze out of it.

Jeno’s scent was nothing but strong, whether it’s the scent of a virgin or his strong pheromones, but Jeno was intoxicating and surely that was a big reason why he still remained alive (along how charming and adorable he was in your eyes).

You watched his every move. The way he leaned back and sighed heavily whilst his eyelids remained close. How his arms slung back on the rim of the tub, his body swaying softly so he could feel the rippling of water against his body.

This was a huge luxury for him and he wanted to enjoy every little detail of it. As the rose petals swayed along with the water he kept moving, it all became clear as well. The copious amount of petals moving further away and refusing to stick, allowing for his entire body to showcase itself like a collectible behind glass.

He smiled as he moved his hips softly, no ill intent behind it. Yet in your eyes he was tempting your thirst more than ever. The way his toned chest and abs clenched from time to time. The way his flesh stretched against his ribcage when he twisted his hips, or the way his cock was out in full display.

Tip red even when not aroused, he was flacid but girthy and slightly above average so perhaps once hard, it would all change. The idea of him becoming hard made you feel parched and not simply for blood but for a well deserved orgasm.

In hopes that he won’t get scared away, you moved as quietly as you could, finding yourself opposite from him in the vast tub that could honestly be considered near a pool. Jeno didn’t sense anything, he was in his own little world fighting himself between thinking of his guilty sin or enjoying what that sin was granting him.

Slithering towards him like a prying nerodia ready to attack, you submerged underwater inches away from his person. Opening your eyes underwater to experience all of his glory, you felt heat in your chest rise seeing how close his dick was to your face, wanting nothing more than to touch it.

Your hand had a mind of its own, making its way up to his torso only hovering above it before your fingers began to slide up from it to his chest as softly and slowly as you could.

That took Jeno out of his trance, surprised but relaxed the moment he saw it was your hand the one touching him. It seemed as your heat radiated to your hand, making him feel it on the lingering touch of your slithering hand.

Feeling your body closer underwater, his eyes began to flutter shut, his head lolling back against the rim of the tub once again. Slowly your head began to creep to the outside, wiping away any signs of water from your face with your left hand as you kept touching him.

Upon your hand making it’s way up to the nape of his neck and holding his head firmly, Jeno opened his eyes, adoring the way you gazed at him with want and need. He loved it, he loved when he knew he was needed and wanted.

Hovering slightly over him, you smirked seeing the sparkle in his eye as you continued to hold him. “Can I savor you again?” You questioned, face coming closer and closer to his, responding with a whimper and a nod, his eyes closing in anticipation.

Your tongue ran across his lower lip, blood beginning to slow its oozing again. Jeno shuddered at the action, lowering his right hand to where his fingers dipped in the water. You loved the taste of Jeno, he was fresh meat and something new to you, it was almost perfect that the universe allowed you to be awoken by someone as glorious as him.

The hand that held his neck, slitertherd down to his bicep, holding it whilst your left hand made its way to his jaw, grasping it firmly but not enough to make it ache. He leaned in closer to your lips, taking initiative that surely caused interest in you to see how desperate he was. Your lips connected, soft at first but as time progressed, they moved in unison, him mimicking your actions from earlier, and sticking his tongue out to savor your lips.

They weren’t chapped anymore, almost as if his saliva on you made them youthful. Jeno smirked into the kiss when you softly nibbled on his lower lip, the sensation causing great pleasure knowing you were becoming desperate for him and his blood.

Jeno’s hand hesitantly started to move, fighting the urge to touch you. You felt the water rippling in between the both of you, inching closer to him, you took his hand into the one that used to hold his jaw, quickly relocating it to your hip, allowing him to do as he pleased.

He groaned at the proximity of your bodies, the tip of his cock starting to rub against your stomach while his hand massaged the flesh of your hip bone.

Your mouth trailed it’s way down from his lips to his jaw, leaving open mouthed kisses that made him groan in anticipation as you went. His whimpering was so cute, they were addicting and reassuring that you were pleasing him.

Unintentionally as your tongue lapped on his neck, lips surrounding areas of it and nipping softly, his hand inched closer to your ass, softly gripping it and pulling you closer to his body. You felt his growing erection, he was getting harder against your stomach the closer you got to him.

He smelt wonderful, his natural scent seeping through his neck and the smell of his blood as you neared a vein was making you go insane. Your leg underwater came closer to him, your calf rubbing against the side of his thigh.

Jeno felt you close, too close— at the worst time, memories of his mother’s and father’s beatings got the best of him, a gasp leaving his body as he removed his hands from you, guilt consuming him as you held him.

You looked at him in confusion, pulling away from him as you noticed his uncomfortableness. “Are you okay?” You questioned, eyebrows furrowed in worry as he swallowed the lump in his throat just for it to come back again.

He looked down, seeing how the rose petals weren’t there to cover him. He felt guilty, he felt the guilt of being hard in front of you, he felt guilty that you two weren’t together and he was defyling you. “It’s just— It’s just sinful…” He raised his head, looking at the way you’d react but upon gaining nothing, he sighed, continuing.

“Father is dead now, his sins have clung to me and if paying for my sins in death is the same way as I pay for them now— I don’t want to sin more but I just look and touch you and I feel a sense of release.”

His confession piqued interest in you. He was surely mentally strained from all he’s lived his entire life but maybe if you showed him what sin felt like, he’d learn to know that sin was inherently human just like desire and it would never go away.

Sighing as you came closer to him, cradling his face into your hand, thumb caressing his cheek bone; “Thy parents are not teaching you about sin, they’re the ones committing it and taking it out on you.” Jeno’s tense feeling was easing at your words.

The more you looked at his face, the more you noticed small details. He had a tiny mole under his eye, it wasn’t visible unless you actively looked for it. “One cannot simply transfer sin to someone else, that’s not how it works. Only humans implement sin for fear, power is all you want and with power the more control you have. Is that not how your familiar relationship works?” You questioned, making him nod as his lips became agape.

“Would you let me show you how good sin actually feels?” With a smirk slapping itself on your face, body as close as before. You held him in anticipation of how he’d answer but as he whispered a soft ‘Yes…”, with his consent your thigh graced his aching cock, you lean in to kiss him softly.

Telling him to sit on the ledge of the tub, Jeno looked at you in confusion before he watched you come closer to him. Your hands on his knees, softly parting them so you could settle in between them. He felt himself shaking at the image before him, wishing he had parchment and charcoal to capture this moment forever.

“You’re too tense, perhaps embracing sin will help you relax.” Teasing him with your words, you finally settled in between his legs. Your hands clinging to the underside of his thighs, trailing kisses up from his knee to inner thighs, licking them softly the closer you get to his angry cock.

Jeno groaned, feeling your warm breath fan over his cock, making it twitch at just the sensation. He leaned back slightly, hoping it would help you in some way. He didn’t really know what you were going to do but he enjoyed the image of you in between his legs, his cock out in display for a beautiful woman to play with.

Glancing at him before you began, you took his shaft onto your left hand. Holding it firmly before you rose a little, accumulating spit in your mouth before letting it drip from your tongue to his red angry tip. Jeno groaned at the warm feeling, shuddering when you started to rub it around, up and down.

It was barely starting but little contact was making him feel insane. From what he recalls whenever the merchant’s daughter touched him, it didn’t feel this good. He remembers uncomfortably laying against a tree trunk as she rubbed him over his breeches too harshly at some point after he couldn’t get hard.

He also recalls their kisses to be wet, teeth-clashing, and sloppy. It was nothing like the way you kissed him. If they were to get wet and sloppy, it never felt gross. You knew well how to clean it up with just another kiss.

And as you touched him, he immediately felt that need in the pit of his stomach, aching to be let out quickly. When you felt that he was somewhat well lubricated, you leaned in closer to his groin, making him shudder with a moan at how close your mouth was to his aching cock.

“You’re enjoying yourself already, huh?” Giggling, you began littering his cock with pecks. Your now soft lips coming in contact, leaving the lingering feeling on him, making this even more achingly painful.

As he tried to control his noises, your kisses on his cock were becoming longer, licking small stripes on his shaft from time to time, always catching him off guard when you did.

Jeno didn’t want to close his eyes, he wanted to experience every little thing you did to him even if his eyelids fought him hard enough to close in pleasure.

All he could think about was how good this was feeling. In fear of the consequences of adultery, Jeno never dared to touch himself. He had always heard of unmarried men and women who’d succumb to the temptation of the body through masturbation and ended up having their hands chopped or burnt by either their family, the townspeople, or the clergy.

He lived in fear of that, of public harm and for them to know he was that kind of sinner leaving his parents to be the laughter of the town. Even if he did have his urges whenever he did find or think about something that aroused him— Jeno would not become complacent to the ill thoughts of his brain and rather listen to his parents and the word of God.

Upon your lips wrapping themselves perfectly around his tip, Jeno moaned loudly, finally shutting his eyes and throwing his head back at the suctioning feeling.

He felt glorious, he finally knew the pleasures of adultery and he was enjoying them so far. Raising his head again, he looked at you intently, how his cock was beginning to disappear in between your lips, making him moan even more.

You swirl your tongue around his tip, later to take him all in once again. Jeno always shuddered when you took him all in. He knew he was girthy and when erect, it was long so watching you take him in at ease made him feel a harsh beat within his chest.

He watched you intently at this point. How you bobbed your head at a steady pace, the pad of your fingers rubbing against his testicles, and how you hollowed out your cheeks whenever you were to go back to the tip of his cock, milking out the precum he was already getting out.

It was mere moments before he actually came. Jeno had no experience with this and he was feeling too good, he didn’t know how to control himself when cumming.

You could hear his exasperated groans and cries. He sounded so pretty and nothing like what you’ve heard before. You truly wanted to keep him forever.

As your right hand took his balls onto it, the palm massaging his left one while your fingers worked on his right; Jeno felt himself tense up. With his cock buried in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, nose touching his pubic bone, Jeno couldn’t handle much anymore.

“I can—can’t, please!...” He whined, throwing his head back, running his hands all over his face and hair. You couldn’t help but chuckle at how hot he sounded, it was intoxicating just like the taste of him coating the entirety of your mouth.

Jeno grumbled when he felt the vibration of your sound against his sensitive cock. It didn’t help that your tongue was twisting around him, savoring him even more and creating more stimulation for him. “Y/n please…” He cried out, teary eyes looking at you. Listening to him, you slowly pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his aching tip.

The image was so lewd, it was immoral but he couldn’t help but twitch at how perfect you looked like that. Even when you collected it all to rub against him, your hand jerking him off slowly whilst your eyes laid on his.

“I want you to cum in my mouth, I want to savor how you taste… I want it all.” Jeno whimpered, head lowering slightly to look at you closely. “Can I?” You questioned, your lips ghosting over his, received with a chaste kiss as he nodded, pulling back to give you more space in between his legs again.

You didn’t waste any time, his tip was so swollen and he seemed in pain to just release. You took him all in, making sure you felt him in the back of your throat, his pubes brushing against your nose, the more you tried to take him.

He shuddered, his hand coming in contact with your hair, threading it around his digits. Jeno’s chest was red, panting, and sweaty. He couldn’t hold off anymore and the moans stuck in his throat were aching to be let out.

Pulling away to only bob your head, hollowing your cheeks to have the pressure make him give in more, you held onto his thighs. Nails raking against them, inching him closer to his release. When he felt the pressure of your nails against him, he bucked his hips upwards, not being able to contain himself.

“Is that fine?” He questioned regarding his thrust, through a chuckle and a nod, you answered him. “I’m so close, can I just do that now?” He added to which you agreed again wanting him to finally feel pleased and for you to taste him.

Jeno moaned at the look in your eyes, taking a tight hold of your head before he began to buck his hips upward. You had stood up more on the tub to help him make it easier just like he had lifted himself up from the rim in order to not hurt you.

His thrusts were hard, soft aches in the back of your throat but anything to make him feel good. He may be inexperienced but he was doing a good job right now, fucking your tight throat, all for him after these centuries of not being used.

“Oh God…” He groaned, feeling thin spurts of cum leaking from him. His grip on your hair became tighter, holding it as he fucked into your mouth, spit and drool all over your chin with every thrust as he pulled.

He was amazed that you didn’t make a sound aside the squelching from your mouth and saliva but besides that you helped him reach his orgasm, playing with his testicles and allowed him to handle you like a rag doll.

They slowly became messy and slow, within his final thrusts the moans he was threatening to release were leaving one by one and with the help of your tongue lapping against the slit of his tip, Jeno let a loud elongated one as he finally felt himself go, filling your throat and mouth with his load.

Some escaped from the corners of your mouth as he held your head in place, his body shuddering trying to calm himself down. Was it not for your gentle taps on his thighs; he pulled away apologizing as he watched your every move.

The way you pushed in the leaking cum into your mouth and swallowed it all, making blood rush back into his cock, rubbing his hands against his face to control himself.

Chuckling at his actions, you took a hold of his forearm. He turned to look down on you, your sultry eyes making him focus on you only, body floating on the warm water not even using it to clean off the dry drool and cum anymore.

“Do you want to taste actual sin?” Pulling him into the tub once again, Jeno’s gaze never left yours. Determination and confidence in them as he pulled you to settle in between his legs. “Yes.” He was so sure of it, his voice deep and husky.

You smirked upon his answer, leaning in to take his lips into yours. His tongue poking out and running across your lower lip, having you part them so it’d roam around the cavern of your mouth. His hands resting on your ass, giving it a squeeze as he propped his leg, making you sit on his thigh while you two kept making out.

You began to move your hips against his thigh, the water making it both easier and harder as the friction wasn’t doing much for you. Nevertheless as you pulled away, your lips kissed along his neck like earlier, forming small bites in a way to taunt him.

He didn’t react to it, he enjoyed them more than you thought. Along that he helped you get more contact with his thigh, holding your hips to help you rock against it. With his help you were finally feeling that pleasure you were aching for.

Your lips leaving open mouthed kisses on his flesh, traveling further to his chest, and to his right nipple. Biting softly at the nub, making him jolt forward slightly.

The action became pleasurable to you as the friction from his thigh against your aching cunt was sudden, the rough jolt making you moan against his chest, tongue lapping at his perked bud. “Are you sure?...” You pant, trailing one of his hands in between your legs to make him feel how wet you were because of him.

You groaned at the feeling of his fingers gracing your lips, shuddering at the feeling you crave. “Are you sure you want to taste actual sin?” You questioned again, your fangs peaking through not being able to hold off much.

They softly raked through his flesh, the sharp feeling making him gasp at what you meant. He still didn’t look at you, he allowed his touch and hearing senses to dictate it all but if his blood meant your pleasure— then that will do. He would rather have a pleasurable ending than the hell his father went through.

“I’m completely and utterly sure.”

His dark tone along his tight grip on your waist whilst the hand that touched you began to rub soft circles on your clit; you moaned against his chest. Mouth opening slightly wider, looking at him for signs of fear but with none, you close your eyes, fangs sinking into the taut flesh of his chest.

Jeno gasped again at the sudden prickle from your entering fangs but upon feeling more pleasure than pain, he relaxed. Feeling himself get aroused once again, the suctioning of your lips against his skin making a tingling feeling course through his body. Goosebumps formed whilst he moaned softly, continuing his gentle rubbing against your clit and his cock getting hard again.

For once in his life he felt control and power over himself. His head wasn’t pounding with guilt and he felt light in his body.

Jeno felt reborn.

Reborn with no sense of guilt, no sense of immorality, and no sin. The venom of your fangs cleansing him from all inherited evil, resurrecting into this new creature he has now become.

Upon your mouth leaving his flesh, Jeno took your head into his hands. Fingers threading through your hair, holding tight to you. His eyes were dark, a red tint washing over his pupils and his gums aching at the creation of prominent fangs.

He has been reborn.

Pulling your face closer to him, Jeno stuck out his tongue. Lapping it over your blood covered lips, savoring himself on you. He moaned against your lips, feverishly kissing you like no tomorrow, fingers tightly holding to your hair in fear of letting you go. Just like that he was in debt to you and didn’t plan on leaving your side— ever.

“May I taste the fruit of eden?”

His husky tone makes you bite your lower lip as the both of you part. WIth a simple nod, he smirks. Taking your hips into his rugged hands, pulling you up to the ledge of the tub just like he was earlier. His hands prying your legs open, settling in between them.

His face delved in between your thighs, teeth nipping the inside of them, his tongue lapping softly as his fingers worked to untie the golden band that held the cloth soggily rested on your hips. With success after his fingers untied it rapidly, he pushed off the fabric, allowing your legs to feel a weight off of you and enough possibility to see him clearly between your legs.

Jeno didn’t hesitate furthermore, his tongue fully coming in contact with your wet cunt, tongue peaking out to slide up your aching lips, tip coming in contact with your clit, allowing a moan to escape your lips.

He found it so pretty, even when you moaned against him it was all muffled so he couldn’t hear how glorious they actually were. Softly pulling away to see your expression, Jeno’s eye never left your face, the way it contorted as his lips rubbed against the nub, sucking softly then harshly to go back to his soft pattern.

Jeno felt your juices cling to his chin. How when he stopped sucking on your clit, his tongue slid in between your lower lips. Over and over so he could collect your slick arousal and swallow it like he was supposed to.

He hummed against your aching core, your fingers clutching to his hair. “If I knew it tasted this good, I would’ve succumbed so long ago.” He spoke against you, his fingers teasing your entrance. You moaned again, this time making him look up at you with the tug of his hair.

“I don’t want to think of you with someone else…” You pouted, a smirk forming on his lips whilst he chuckled, plunging his tongue in and out of you. Biting your lip at the feeling, you felt the knot in your stomach begin to ease. “Don’t worry. I want nobody else but you.”

As his words settled, Jeno went back to focusing on you. HIs lips wrapping around your clit from time to time trying to edge you on faster. His tongue lapping at the juices that he didn’t allow to fall past your entrance, savoring every drop.

Jeno moaned around your clit, the vibration making your insides tingle at how close you were to an orgasm. He could tell by how you shook underneath him. His hands grasping tightly onto your thighs, tongue and lips going at it onto your lips and entrance, his nose beginning to rub at your clit.

The sudden friction of his nose against your clit was making you spiral furthermore. His tongue moved in and out of your entrance, rimming it from time to time, and taking it’s time to lick away the arousal you let out. The movement of his jaw was making you go insane, feeling the wetness on it whenever his face came close to you.

He kept going, your moans becoming louder the more pressure the tip of his nose put on your clit. Friction from the rubbing made your head spin and it didn’t help that his tongue was causing so much pleasure in you.

Jeno knew you were going to cum already. With the tight grip on his hair, the way his nose rubbed against you, your increasingly loud moans, and your twisting and turning, he moaned against your cunt. Tongue pistoning inside you, replacing his nose with his fingers.

Faster circles being rubbed against your sensitive bud, making you mewl out in great pleasure. “Come on, I want to taste you whole too. Please…” He pleaded, his hot breath against your lips making you shudder. Biting your lower lip and nodding in response, Jeno continued to eat you out, leaving open mouth kisses to your labia whilst his fingers stimulate your clit.

Your legs twitched as he kept going, Clawing at your collarbones as you felt the knot in your stomach untie and the rush of an orgasm ran through your entire body. Moaning loudly, holding to his hair as you came against his face, Jeno moaned, licking every last drop.

Spasming under his tongue as he kept going, just to make sure he didn’t miss anything; you pant, chest heaving whilst trying to relax. His touch, hot against your cold skin.

Satisfied in knowing he’d made you cum and left no drop behind, Jeno got out of the water, sitting beside you to pull you into his embrace in order to help you calm down.

“You’re right, it felt so good.” He kissed along your temple, turning your head to connect his lips against your, the taste of you still lingering in his mouth.

Your lips never left each other’s, Jeno only clung onto your body. The more you two kept kissing, Jeno pulled you down with him, his body hitting the cold tile of the floor, groaning slightly at the sting.

His hands never left your hips, even when you went to straddle him, his hard dick coming in contact with your warm cunt. At the contact, he moaned against your mouth, your tongue running against his upper lip.

“You’ve been so good to me, Jeno…” You moaned against his mouth, hips softly rocking, friction from your cunt to his cock. His hips fighting to not jerk upwards. “I’m aching and throbbing for you.” You bit his lower lip, taking it into your own teeth and pulling softly to look at his fucked out expression. “Do you want to savor the essence of your Queen?”

His hooded eyes looked at you, how your upper body rose; hands going behind your back to unclasp the hooks that held up the golden braiser, falling to the ground with a clank the mere moment you dropped it. Jeno’s cock twitched at the image before him, feeling himself swell at the idea of being in you.

“Anything you give me, I’ll take with gratitude.” He honestly responded, sitting up with you still on him. A smirk of satisfaction laid on your lips; hands reaching to the pins in your hair and taking them out, allowing your hair to cascade down your shoulders and back for him to enjoy.

You threw all of the pins to the floor just like the piece you wore except for a pretty long thin one with multiple flowers around the top. It wasn’t until he looked at it closely that he saw the sharpness of it. He watched your every move as you held it, enticing him with your movements until it came in contact with your skin.

A gasp of concern leaving his lips when you put pressure against your skin, slowly sliding it against the top of your right breast. Jeno looked at the maroon beads, how they oozed out faster than when you bit his lower lip.

Generally he would be highly concerned but the smell of you was intoxicating him and he couldn’t think of anything more than to taste you, to take your blood into his mouth and know what heaven felt besides the taste between your legs.

His hyponotized gaze didn’t go ignored. Taking one of the rolling beads onto your index finger, your hand reached out to his lips. His tongue coming out to wrap around your finger and suck off the liquid, moaning against it to let you know he was enjoying this very well.

“Feast all you want.”

With your words, Jeno let out a disgruntled moan, lips latching onto the opening. Suckling with so much fervor that you felt arousal flow out of you and onto where you two were connected.

Your hips began to rock against him again, the slickness between you making it easier. Soft moans leaving your lips just like they left him with the feeling you were giving him and the taste of your blood.

“I can’t— I need to be inside of you right now.” He groaned, helping you off of his lap and pulling you up once he was standing. Jeno’s steps were rushed, his hand wrapping around your wrist to pull you towards the upholstered padded white bench hidden behind the sheer curtains.

Gently helping you climb on as he did after you, settling behind you. Your back in contact with his chest as he held you, his hands roaming every curve of your damp body. Both propped up on your knees, Jeno softly rocking his hips to create friction between your ass and his hardened cock.

His breath fanning against your ear, left hand stopping at your right shoulder whilst his right hand toyed with your wet cunt. Fingertips teasing your entrance as his palm rubbed against your clit.

Holding you tight, forearm near enough to your neck. “I need you badly but how bad do you need me?” His voice was deeper than moments before, tongue gracing the outer shell of your ear and nipping at it.

Jeno had changed in a matter of minutes, his shy and guilty persona was gone and now all that remained was the confidence and power he always craved. With the way he was acting and with his fingers slowly entering and curling inside of you— you needed him more than anything.

“I need you so bad… If I don’t have you in me, I’ll end up coming on your fingers.” You confessed, pushing your ass backwards to press harder against his cock and his fingers to move deeper within you, feeling your juices accumulate all over his palm.

He pouted, kissing your neck, “But I want you to cum around my cock.” He whined, fingers pulling out of you, receiving a cry from you. His words were so lewd, never would he ever think about letting them leave his mouth let alone think of them but now that was his vocabulary.

Jeno lifted up his fingers up to his mouth, using the hand that held your shoulder to hold your face now and turn it so you'd look at him. His tongue licking up your juices, stuffing his fingers inside his mouth and sucking off your essence.

Your chest heaved in need, the image before you making your innards twist in agonizing need and want. Jeno pulled out his fingers just for his lips to fall upon yours, kissing you feverishly as his wet fingers and hand traveled downward, taking his hard shaft and running the tip of his cock against your slick entrance.

“Jeno, please just get inside of me.” You mewled, pushing back against him. Chuckling at your request, He used his left hand to push you forward. Back arched and ass sticking up for him, your hands gripping the arm rest before you as he continued to tease your entrance, tip of his cock accumulating your arousal.

“You’re asking so kindly, my Queen… Anything for you.” With his final words, Jeno sunk into you. His girth making you moan and whine at the sting as he stretches you out. “Ah, fuck!” You let out, Jeno hissing at how tight you felt around him, sucking him further in.

He felt great pleasure when he was deep in your throat but it didn’t compare to him going balls deep inside your wet cunt, the warmth feeling better as he began to rut his hips against your ass.

“You can move faster, love. It won’t hurt me.” Turning your head to look at him, Jeno groaned at the haziness in your eyes.

His grip on your hips became tighter as his pace increased. The sound of his skin slapping against your ass, the tightness of your cunt around him, juices flowing every time he pulled back— Jeno truly did love sin.

Moaning with every thrust the harder he went and the deeper he got; “You were made for me, Jeno… Feel how perfectly you fit inside me.” You mewl, beginning to rock yourself against him.

“You’re so right, we were made for each other.” Pulling you harshly by the arms, you gasp at the sudden movement, holding onto his thighs for balance. “I don’t want to ever be away from you now.” His confession only made you chuckle, bringing his arms to wrap around your waist as you held him.

Fucking yourself agianst his cock, “You’ll never leave my side, I’ll make sure of that.” Bringing one of his hands up to your lips, you kissed his knuckles, his hips jotting rapidly against you. All that left your lips were loud moans against his flesh whilst he panted against your shoulder.

His free hand pushes your hips to him with every thrust, making you feel him go deeper and deeper. You felt dizzy every time the thrusts were increasing, he felt swollen compared to earlier, and your walls were contracting against him.

“You sound so pretty, keep them going, please.” Jeno begged, kissing your neck and shoulders as he tried to muffle his own moans. You began to fuck yourself against him, both of your movements making Jeno go insane by how you helped him.

Centuries of not being touched and Jeno a lifetime— the two of you weren’t going to hold up much longer, even if you’d both had an orgasm not long ago.

Whilst he kissed upon your sweating skin and cock pounded within you, reaching levels no one has before, you bit his knuckles softly, your body beginning to shake at how close you were getting. Squelching sound of his cock going in and out of your wet cunt, driving you insane as you felt him at your hilt, bulging against your stomach.

Moving his hand from your hip, Jeno touched the bulge he created, groaning every time he felt his hand move forward. “You’re taking all of me so well, I’m so glad you’re the one I’m doing this with.” Leaving open mouthed kisses on your spine, Jeno kept his thrusts going.

It seemed you were much more needy than him, as you felt yourself tremble upon another orgasm coming to you at the image of his cock pulsating within you. Your legs were giving out on you and your hands shook, barely being able to hold his hand anymore.

“I can’t take it… Jeno, please! Please, I’m going to cum!” You cried out, dropping his hand to hold onto the arm rest. His bitten fingers and knuckles traveled in between your legs, collecting the fluids you were creating and rubbing them against your clit.

Motions soft and slow before he began to add pressure and speed up his circling. “Do it. Cum around me so I can cum in you already.” Your legs shaking more than before, your moans came out as whines and cries, the slapping sound of his hips against your ass becoming echos within the golden walls.

You were close, very close. With only a few more of his rough thrusts, feeling his tip hit your g-spot perfectly and his fingers stimulating your clit all so very well, the coil within your stomach had unraveled. Legs spasming as you came all around his cock, holding tightly to the benches’ arm for support whilst he kept pounding into you, trying to chase his own release.

It didn’t take him much longer as all he needed was to feel the warmth of your orgasm wash against his cock. Thrusts become sloppy and rougher the faster he goes, your moans egging him on to cum already. Watching your tired body holding up just for his release; Jeno groaned loudly, his moans falling out of his lips one after another.

The string of spurts leaving him little by little with every thrust. Just as he felt himself closer to his release, you began fucking yourself against him order to help. With both of your thrusts, Jeno didn’t hold back anymore.

Throwing his head back with loud moans and cries as he released his load within you; you joined him, moaning at how good it felt to be filled to the brim again.

He fucked you throughout it, his sloppy thrusts igniting another quick orgasm to wash over you. Just as you felt yourself become over stimulated and he felt his cock soften, Jeno softly pulled out of you, making sure none of his cum slipped out.

If it did, you collected the dribbles onto your finger, making sure he watched you take them inside your mouth and swallow it all.

He loved it. He loved how you didn’t let anything he gave go to waste. Flipping you to your back as he caged you above, lips connecting. Kissing you with all his pent up passion, lowering his body softly but not enough to suffocate you.

Your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, caressing his sweaty flesh trying to feel the comfort he gave you.

When you both felt the need for air, Jeno pulled away first. Peppering your face with kisses, listening to your soft sighs of tranquility. “I’m never going to stop telling you how glad I am that I did this with you first.” He softly spoke against your chest.

Laying his head in between your breasts, crading it and playing with his damp hair. “I’m also glad you’re the one to have woken me up and be with after centuries.” Kissing the top of his head, Jeno twisted his body to look up at you.

“My Queen, the one to open my eyes about the pleasures of life.” He kissed your chest softly, “The one to let me be reborn again as what I truly am… May I get a taste of you again?” He questioned in between kisses, lifting his body more to have his lips come in contact with yours.

Moaning against them, Jeno’s lips moved to your neck. Soft kisses before they became rougher, the smell of your blood enticing him. Licking short stripes until he found a spot in which you moaned when you felt his lips surround it.

With a final chuckle of satisfaction, Jeno’s lips fell agape, fangs coming out as they penetrated your flesh. A moan of pleasure and pain leaving your lips with his every suckle. It was arousing to say the least. You felt the pangs of your cunt come back and felt the need of wanting him back inside you.

He was getting hard again, his cock rubbing against your thigh as he kept drinking. Jeno only pulled away when he felt your hand wrap around him, jerking him slowly. “More, your highness?” He asked with a cheeky smirk on his blood stained lips.

Lifting your head to lick the blood off his lips you nod in need.

“If you’d grant me that gift, my King.”

1: Georgian slang for crazy/stupid

2: In the name of the father, the son, and the Holy Spirit [latin trans.]

#jeno #vampire au #queen of the damned au #smut #religious themes

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toastedqueso-recs · 1 year

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⚬ pairing: mingyu x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 54K (grab ur popcorn) ⚬ warnings: alcohol, drinking ⚬ genres: SLOWBURN, back and forth PINING, angst, summer romance, spice/nsfw mentions and smut, eventual friends to lovers, brief high school!au, fluff, slight love triangle, lots of teasing/flirting.

✧✎ synopsis: when you graduate high school, you realize you’re not really going to miss anyone, apart from a cute boy who doesn’t even remember your name. five years later, after accepting an offer to pass the summer at a friend’s lake house, he’s standing right in front of you. the universe doesn’t give second chances very often. you’re not going to let the honey boy slip away twice.

✧✎ a/n: MY LONGEST FIC YET. i did think abt uploading this as a series, but this feels like something which should be uploaded all at once. i actually did include “chapters” so that it’s easier to find the spot where you left off! ALSO, pls do not feel obligated to read this entire thing! if halfway through you’re like “this isn’t for me” then feel free to step away. i understand perfectly well that it can be difficult to stick with long stories, especially if the plot doesn’t grab us. that is natural and i don’t want anyone feeling guilty abt it. i also included some oc’s which i rarely do, but i thought it might further submerse the reader. thnk you sm for being patient!!

*! i’ve been made aware that there are certain terms which can be used to sexualize and or exotify those with tanned skin, such as the term ‘honey boy’ itself. this is absolutely not my intention nor is kmg sexualized for his skin tone in this story– however, regardless of intent, it’s important to acknowledge the real consequences these terms can have on poc! it is definitely something to keep in mind for those of us whose fanfic includes artists/oc’s of colour. !*

some final notes:

⇢ here is this fic’s inspo playlist ⇢ smut chapter is marked so it can be skipped ⇢ taglist included in final author’s note ⇢ i rly hope u guys enjoy it!

CHAPTER 1: THE DOT

Keep reading

#yesssss everything about this!!!#there were times when i wanted to shake y/n but that was kinda the point and important to the fic #mingyu #seventeen #angst #summer theme #high school reunion #…kinda #smut

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toastedqueso-recs · 1 year

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Love Me Out Loud

Pairing: Mingyu x fem!reader

Featuring: BooSeokSoon, the rest of team ENFJ, Kim Taehyung, Irene/Joohyun, Younghee

Synopsis: Kim Mingyu was your first, but to him, he was for sure you were his endgame. One year out from university, no one expected you to be dating the former campus heartthrob. It's why you had to hide it from everyone – Mingyu's 14.5K Instagram followers, at least. However, the return of your childhood best friend Kim Taehyung to Seoul for a wedding, forces Mingyu to rethink the secrecy of your whole relationship.

Genre: Fluff, angst, smidgen of crack, established relationship, secretbf!mingyu, medschoolgrad!reader, childhood bestfriend!taehyung, bestfriend!younghee, title inspired by Chungha's Love Me Out Loud

Warnings: Use of profanity, mentions of food and alcohol, inaccurate statistics about couples, lack of communication, insecurities, yes I chose cliché wedding songs . . . I think that's it?

WC: ~14.6K

A/N: Surprise 🤡 This fic was inspired by Mingyu's IG thirst photos. Also . . . high-key low-key me projecting my beef with him onto the couple in this au😳 I deeply apologize in advance if the main conflict of this fic is kind of stupid 😭 I needed to . . . uh, vent out some steam :') Only Kim Mingyu can make me feel this deeply to the point where I can smash out almost 15K words in three sittings, despite recently declaring Vernon (and maybe Jihoon) as my new biases . . . (I am not proud).

I was this close to throwing out this fic, but @onlymingyus encouraged me to follow through with it, so here's the final result. Thank you for believing in my hot recycling writing when I can't, fam 😭

Other things: Per usual, this is unedited, so I'm sorry for any grammar and error mistakes. One of these days when I'm feeling ambitious, I will come back and fix them. This will probably be my last update in a while! I have a couple big exams coming up I need to focus on. I also need to work on those 1K fic drabbles (and finishing my 2 other series 🤡)! I'll be lurking around simping over Vernon, but for the most part, I'll see you all on the other side in a few weeks, hopefully having passed my exams with flying colors and with some new stories and updates in hand.

Last, Kim Mingyu if you're reading this: Sir, please love me back in my dreams at the bare minimum!!! 😭💔 #iykyk

Permanent taglist: @sleeplessdawn @woozarts @wonuziex @rockwidthyou @bibinnieposts @jeonghanniehae95

“He looks like a . . . a fuck boy.”

Her brows knitted together with a frown set on her lips, Younghee sank down into the wooden chair and shot you a concerned look. Mirroring her disappointment, though for different reasons, you pouted and lowered the image of your new boyfriend closer to your chest. Silently, you clicked the side button of your phone that turned your screen black.

“He’s not,” you mumbled, your feelings hurt that your best friend would think you were that dumb to fall for a fuck boy.

Younghee let out a heavy sigh, running her hands through her long wavy black hair. She tucked a loose strand behind her ear and clasped her hands together, tilting her head curiously to the side. “What’s his name again?”

“Mingyu,” you replied promptly, “Kim Mingyu.”

“Kim Mingyu, Kim Mingyu, Kim Mingyu,” she repeated like a mantra, tapping her chin curiously. She narrowed her eyes, “The name sounds familiar.”

“He . . . went to the same uni as me,” you added – not that it mattered a whole lot. Younghee didn’t know many of your friends from university as she didn’t attend with you when the both of you graduated from high school. Rather, she went down her own unique path, opting to attend culinary school and now owning her own bakery. Busy with your post-graduation and adult lives, the two of you hardly found the time to sit down like this and catch up anymore – it’s almost been a year since you last saw Younghee and had a lot to update her on, your relationship Mingyu being the main new occurrence.

Sucking in a sharp breath, she asked, “I don’t remember you talking about him.”

“That’s because I didn’t,” you cleared your throat and took a long sip of your own drink before replying. “We didn’t run in the same circles – I mean, we did, he’s friends with Seokmin and Seungkwan, but I was hardly around when he was because ya know, medical school is busy . . . We met after I graduated.”

“Ah,” Younghee nodded slowly.

“He’s really nice – a sweetheart,” you volunteered. You rubbed your arm, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Treats me well . . . and s-stuff.”

“I mean, I hope he does,” Younghee replied. She shrugged and turned back to her iced coffee, twirling the straw nonchalantly as the ice sloshed against one another inside.

You frowned and let out a heavy sigh. Your shoulders slumped forward. “What don’t you like about him already? You haven’t even met him yet”

“I never said I didn’t like him.”

“You said he was a fuck boy and keep giving me these weird looks.”

Younghee rolled her eyes. She hated how observant you were at the wrong times. “I said he looked like a fuck boy,” she pointed at your phone, “And I don’t know? It’s the air, the vibe, about him in his pictures? He’s definitely good-looking and you can tell he knows it – it’s like . . . arrogant?”

“He’s not–”

“And don’t lie to me, you can tell, the man has had bitches before you.”

“Okay and? We’re nearing our thirties, haven’t we all dated someone at this point?”

“You’ve never dated anyone before Mingyu and there’s a chance that there will be bitches after you.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that,” you scoffed. As much as you loved your best friend, she was quick to judge and did not know how to filter herself at times. “Also, I did date before this! There was –”

Younghee pointed at you, her eyes wide and playful as she was trying to make a point. “Hoseok doesn’t count – you both were so shy, nothing came about it.”

Annoyed, you pressed your lips tightly, waiting for Younghee to finish rattling off nonsense about Mingyu. She wasn’t wrong per se, but she also wasn’t right. Mingyu was one of three major heartthrobs at your university, and unironically, they were best friends with one another: Kim Mingyu, Joshua Hong, and Lee Chan. Like those cheesy coming-of-age movies set in high school, people gawked at them in the hallways while they blessed everyone with their presence. Women flocked in their direction at parties, hoping at a shot to be their companion for the night, or perhaps even the next few months.

They each had their own charms, it just depended on what you preferred. Joshua Hong was the soft “indie” type. Seemingly lost in his own thoughts, daydreaming and sketching away in his notebook or strumming his guitar during his free time, the former Film major was quite the romantic. He was warm, kind, and soft-hearted. He was the owner of the gentle tinkling laugh that had women and men alike on their knees. Lee Chan was the youngest, but the boldest, of the trio. Effortlessly, funny and shameless, he was quite the flirt; yet known to be quite serious when it came to studies. And last: Kim Mingyu – arguably the most popular out of the three of them. He was a man written by a woman: Handsome, tall, well-built, respectful, and friendly. His photos on Instagram surmounted hundreds of likes within hours of posting them. Rumor had it that brands had offered him deals for modeling, but he always turned them down, opting to focus on pursuing his career in architecture instead. He was practically a university socialite, though that did come with a downside.

“Are you done?” you asked when you saw Younghee lean back into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

She nodded. “All I’m saying is you need to be careful with men who look like him. Looks can be deceiving.”

“I understand where you’re coming from and thank you for your concern,” you sucked in a sharp breath, “But . . . give him a chance? Mingyu’s . . . the first guy I’ve really liked in a long time.” You peered up at Younghee through your lashes, gnawing at your bottom lip. “I also thought he was going to be like that in university, up to when Seungkwan first introduced us: arrogant, only here for an ego boost and to play with me and go about his life, but . . . I don’t know, he has his flaws, but something’s . . . different about him. I promise.”

Younghee eyed you curiously, chewing the tip of her straw between her pearly white teeth. She turned your words in her head over and over like she was observing a stone in her hand. To her, Mingyu was an interesting shift from your type, which you had claimed your last crush, Hoseok, was. He wasn’t ugly, but from the first look, you knew that wasn't all there was to him like Mingyu. Hoseok was cheerful – he added color to your dull, gray life. His style was definitely unique to put it kindly, but he was supportive and got along well with all of your friends, especially Seokmin. She hadn’t met him yet, but one look at the picture of Mingyu wearing a black T-shirt reading, “ART THAT KILLS,” and coyly looking at the camera while putting on his headphones was enough to set off alarms in her head.

Younghee let out a sigh and dropped her empty plastic cup onto the table. Her lips contorted as her eyes wandered around the cafe before they landed on you. Reaching over to place her hand over your clasped ones, she leaned in, trying to read your face. Clearly, you were upset with her. She wasn’t sure if you were just so far up Mingyu’s ass that you didn’t see the red flags, or maybe, she was wrong and Mingyu really was a good guy, so you genuinely did like him.

“How long have the two of you been dating again?” Younghee asked.

“Seven months,” you mumbled.

She nodded. It was a sizable amount of time and you usually did have a good read on people to break things off before they got toxic – but maybe Kim Mingyu was a different breed. “And why is that I’m only finding out about him now? As your best friend, I kind of expect you to blow up my phone the day you made it official.”

“We agreed to keep it on the down-low,” you played with your thumbs, avoiding her eyes. Your mind flitted to the day, Mingyu and you talked about it on his old beat up blue couch. You still remembered the way his hands gingerly crept up to caress your own, his eyes silently pleading you to give him a chance. “A secret, if you will?”

“But I’m your best friend,” Younghee frowned. She felt her stomach churn, though she was trying to keep calm and let you explain your side of the story before she misunderstood.

“You are!” you exclaimed, covering her hands with yours now. You folded your thumbs over her fingers. “B-but for my sake, I chose to keep it a secret and I asked him to do the same – he was only doing what I asked him to do . . . Not many people knew about us. Only Seungkwan, Soonyoung, and Seokmin really did – Seungkwan set us up anyhow. Mingyu only told his friends recently too.”

“Okay,” Younghee replied slowly, “Why did you want to keep it a secret then?”

“I - I . . . Mingyu is, err, famous?” you offered.

“All of it in one go, girlie, don’t stutter,” Younghee encouraged you, “I won’t understand otherwise.”

You huffed out a breath, blowing off the fringes in your eyes. “This is so cliche,” you muttered, “But Mingyu . . . was the, uh, ‘campus heartthrob’ at our university. A lot of people liked him and, uh, you were right, he dated a lot of people before me. With those people, he . . . was very vocal about his relationship with them on Instagram – you know, like, posting cute couple pictures and stuff. You knew when they were together, and you knew when they weren’t anymore, or when he found someone else. As much as I like him, I don’t want everyone from university who follows him to be all up in my business – especially since we graduated already. I-I like my privacy and the small world I built in university. You know too, I hardly use my IG account.”

“Anything else?” Younghee offered, giving you the space to add any sparing details.

Biting your bottom lip, you replied, “I’m also scared about how my parents, especially my mom, will react when they find out I’m dating Mingyu . . . You know how they are.”

“You didn’t even tell your mom!?” Younghee exclaimed.

“I know I’m almost twenty-six and I shouldn’t be scared of my mother, but I am,” you wailed, burying your head in your arms. “I wanted to be sure before I introduced Mingyu to them, let alone, tell them about him because I’m scared they’ll give the same scolding you did – but worse.”

Younghee let out a chortle. She rounded the table to sit in the seat next to you, pulling your form into her arms. “You’re the cutest.”

“Stop finding joy in my misery,” you whined.

“But in all seriousness,” Younghee rubbed circles into your back, “I get it now. It makes sense why you kept it from me, especially when we run such opposite lives – you at the hospital and me at my bakery.”

You nodded, letting out a soft hum. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Though,” Younghee started teasingly. You glowered at her in annoyance, only eliciting a playful smile dancing on her lips, “You must really like him if you’re this cautious and scared.”

You shrank back against the window. “I’m just . . . not sure he feels the same. What if I do like him more than he likes me?”

“What makes you think that?”

“He’s Kim Mingyu, and I’m me – I didn’t see this coming.”

“Did he approach you, or did you approach him?”

You thought for a bit. “The former.”

“And what made you cave in?”

“ . . . Seungkwan?”

“You dated him for Seungkwan?”

You shook your head furiously. “No, no, no – I, um . . . Mingyu . . . after we met at Seokmin’s birthday party, we, uh, hung out a few times – as friends, friends only. But one day, he just casually asked me out on a date.”

“And how does Seungkwan play into all of this?” Younghee shook her head.

“At first I told him no because I thought he was joking, but he was persistent. The first time turned into a second, then a third, then a fourth. I thought he’d give up by the fifth time, but he asked again, and he probably told Seungkwan about it because shortly after, he gave me a good long talk,” you peered up Younghee, “You know, Seungkwan and his long talks.”

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she chuckled and replied, “I know them the best.”

“But yeah,” you said in a small voice, perching your chin meekly on your hand.

“Well, I think he’d be blind not to like you as much as you like him,” Younghee reassured you.

You scoffed. “You’re obligated to say that as my best friend.”

“Y/N,” Younghee rolled her eyes, “You’re ambitious, pretty, humble, easygoing – you’re a fucking doctor for heaven’s sake. You’re everyone’s dream girl. Give yourself some credit.”

“I don’t know, Younghee,” you muttered.

Younghee wanted to shake you. As amazing as you were, your insecurity was one of the things that always seemed to get the best of you. It made her heartache that after all your achievements at such a young age, you still succumbed to self-doubt. If only you saw you through her eyes.

“When do I get to meet this ‘Kim Mingyu’?” Younghee asked, hoping to get your mind off of things.

“You . . . want to meet him?” you asked nervously instead.

She nodded. “I need to scope him out – make sure, he’s not here to play with my best friend’s heart.”

“Oh god – don’t. Soonyoung already gave him a hard enough time,” you chuckled at the memory of Soonyoung’s shocked expression when the two of you showed up hand-in-hand, the older man eventually pulling Mingyu aside and giving what Mingyu described as a “stern dad warning.” “But I do really want you to meet him . . . and he wants to meet you too.”

“Oh?”

“I talk a lot about you to him,” you nudged her in her ribs.

Younghee smiled and pulled you into another hug. “I’m happy for you, truly – though, I don’t trust Mingyu 100% yet. Come by the bakery after work or on the weekend sometime. We’re gonna play on my turf.”

“Younghee,” you warned, jokingly.

As you pulled away, your phone lit up, Mingyu’s caller ID, a photo of him with his dog Bobpul that he insisted on, displaying on the screen. Younghee wiggled her eyebrows at you playfully.

“Hello?” you answered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Younghee moved to press her ear next to your phone, hoping to also catch a word or two from your boyfriend.

“What are you doing right now? Where are you?” Mingyu asked softly. His voice was rasp and low as if he just woke up from a nap.

“I’m meeting with Younghee, remember?” you peered up at your best friend. She smirked at you, lightly slapping your shoulder in excitement.

Mingyu let out a soft hum. You heard ‘poof’ in the background, assuming he rolled onto his back and collapsed on his bed. “How much longer are you gonna be there? Do you work today? I miss you – I want to see you.”

“I don’t work today, but I was hoping to spend more time with Younghee,” you side glanced at her, heat creeping across your cheeks. She was angrily holding up her two pointer fingers in a cross, suggesting you cancel your plans and run home to Mingyu. You rolled your eyes and shoved her away. “You know I only get to see her every few months and I saw you two days ago.”

“Mmm . . . it’s been too long though,” Mingyu groaned.

“I’ll see you tonight? After the movie?” you offered.

“I wanna see you now,” he chuckled.

“Gyu.”

“Y/N.”

“You are insufferable,” you chortled.

“But you’re stuck with me, so,” you could just picture him skittishly shrugging his shoulders.

“I’ll come over after, okay?”

“Okay,” he pouted jokingly, “Don’t be too long, love.”

“Bye, Gyu.”

“Bye.”

When you ended the call, you were met with Younghee’s shit-eating grin. A moment of silence passed before she erupted in a thunder of squeals and giggles.

“You two are so gross, but so cute!” she latched onto your arm. “‘Love’? What other pet names does he have for you? Babe? Honey? Sweetheart?”

“Stop,” you groaned, reaching for your purse. “Let’s just go to the movies.”

“Sure thing, love,” Younghee winked facetiously.

. . . .

As promised, you returned to Mingyu’s apartment that evening. Initially, you had only planned on staying a few hours before returning to your own home; however, like more times than not, he managed to convince you to stay the night. Hence, why you were lying in the crook of his arm on his bed, wearing one of his many black T-shirts that were much too large for you, the hem hitting you below mid-thigh.

Because Mingyu couldn’t sleep unless it was completely pitch black, there wasn't a trace of light. He had chosen a windowless bedroom, so not even the slightest sliver of moonlight would seep through. Your only sense of him was his large body half underneath you and the steady rise and fall of breathing.

“I told Younghee about us,” you muttered, tracing invisible circles into his abdomen.

Mingyu replied with a soft hum, followed by a sigh of relief. You felt him shifting underneath you, turning until you were laying on his bicep. You peered up at him through your lashes, the light from outside reflecting off his deep brown irises shining like stars. Mingyu’s hair was getting long as his messy dark bangs were starting to skim the tops of his lashes.

Mingyu reached over and brushed a few strands of loose hair from your face, letting his fingers linger a little longer along the curves of your cheeks. He gave you a small smile. “And?”

“Do you want me to be honest or do you want me to sugarcoat it a little?” you whispered.

His smile grew into a grin – he was already expecting to not be well-received by Younghee as you’ve told him she was rather blunt and critical. It took her almost half a year to warm up to Seokmin because she claimed he was too nice to be true. Especially in the case that he was your first boyfriend in a while, Mingyu knew he’d have to be more than ‘nice’ for Younghee to welcome him into your life.

Mingyu slipped his arms lower, wrapping them around your waist. He pulled you closer to him; you automatically placed both of your hands on his chest in efforts to create some distance between the two of you. It wasn’t that you didn’t like his physical affection, but rather, you weren’t used to someone being so clingy and touchy with you like this before.

“Lay it on me, love,” Mingyu whispered, tucking your head underneath his chin. “I have to hold you in case it hurts too much.”

“You can just hold me if you want to, Gyu,” you giggled.

“You’re my emotional support teddy bear,” he insisted.

You rolled your eyes. Nonetheless, you found yourself snaking your arms around his waist as well. “Younghee thought you looked like a fuck boy.”

“Hhmm,” Mingyu hummed. You could already picture the slight pout setting on his face. You knew he didn’t like it when people made this assumption about him based on his appearance.

“She’s . . . kind of nervous about you for me,” you continued to explain. It was as Mingyu expected, “But . . . I reassured her that you were good and she wants to meet you – but she thinks we’re gross.”

Mingyu let out a breathy chuckle. “Why?”

“When you called, she overheard you calling me ‘love’,” you squirmed a little in his hold.

“Do you think it’s gross?” Mingyu asked instead.

You pressed your lips into a tightline, answering his question with silence. Had you been an outsider watching the two of you, you might have said the same thing as Younghee: gross. However, admittedly, the pet names he gave you like, ‘love’ and ‘teddy bear’ made you feel warm and fuzzy inside – almost special if you will. There was a small voice inside of you that questioned if he did the same with his various past girlfriends.

You buried your face into his chest, the scent of floral laundry detergent filling your nostrils. He must’ve pulled this out of the dryer recently. You felt a rumble bubbling through his body as Mingyu let out another chuckle at your reaction. You had a feeling, he already knew what you were going to say. You’ve only been dating seven months, but he already read you so well.

“Kind of,” you finally replied, your voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“I . . . don’t blame you,” he reassured you. He planted a brief kiss on the crown of your head, while rubbing your back. “We are kind of gross, but . . . I wouldn’t have it any other way. I like it when you call me ‘Gyu.’”

“It’s not that special of a nickname,” you pointed out.

“It is when you say it,” he immediately replied.

You were glad he couldn’t see you right now as your cheeks grew warm. Again, you found yourself burying your face deeper into his chest – as if it could take anymore of you. Simultaneously, you were silently cursing yourself for swooning so easily at each flirt he shot your way. You shouldn’t let him have this much of an effect on you. What happens when the honeymoon phase is over? Will he still be calling you ‘love’? Will you still feel this special for doing the bare minimum?

“What are you thinking about?” Mingyu asked, his voice soft.

“Nothing,” you lied.

“You’ve been quiet for a while now though.”

“I’m just getting tired,” you sighed. You pulled back from his chest, fluttering your eyes shut. “We should sleep.”

Because he didn’t want to argue, Mingyu chose to leave it at that. Perhaps another day he’ll ask what’s been keeping you so preoccupied. With a deep breath, Mingyu turned and tightened his grip on you, molding his body against yours. He could feel you moving in his arms, trying to find a position to get comfortable.

“Good night, Gyu,” you whispered when you had stopped turning.

“Good night, love,” Mingyu replied.

. . . .

You spun around at the familiar sound of his Leica camera shutter going off. Mingyu smiled softly, a fond look in his eyes as he admired the photo on the back screen. Placing the pumpkin spice candle back on the shelf, you shoved your hands in the pockets of your peacoat and walked over to him. Leaning over, you tiptoed peering over his shoulder looking on as well. The picture was of your profile as you read the label of the candle, your hair spilling over your shoulder. You knew Mingyu loved photography and you could appreciate it, but you couldn’t help but frown at the thought of him taking photos of you unaware. You just didn’t like taking pictures unless you had to; they made you uncomfortable, even if it was just Mingyu. Silently, you nudged his side, snapping him out of his musing. Mingyu lowered his camera and turned to face you, a nervous smile dancing on his lips.

“Gyu,” you said softly, “You know I don’t like pictures.”

“You looked nice though,” he mumbled.

You frowned at him.

“Candid pictures are the best,” he tried to convince you.

When you didn’t respond, only pressing your lips into a thin line and looking away, Mingyu finally relented with a soft sigh. He only wanted to love and appreciate you for who you were and that included taking pictures. He wanted to show you, you through his point-of-view; yet, you didn’t want it. Hooking the red camera strap around his neck, he reached over to place his hand on the crook of your elbow, tugging you closer towards him.

“Hey,” he said more firmly this time. You peered up at him silently through your lashes. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but . . . I just like taking pictures of the people I love.”

Though you understood where he was coming from, it didn’t necessarily make you feel any better. Especially when the Instagram images of Mingyu with his previous girlfriends have flashed through your mind.

“You’re beautiful and I just want to remember small moments like this with you,” his hand trailed from your elbow, down your forearm, naturally fitting them into yours. He gave you a reassuring squeeze. “But if you really are against it, I’ll stop.”

Guilt flooded your system at his words – it was the same unsettling feeling you had when you had asked him to delete his first Instagram story of the two of you. It was a photo taken by Seungkwan, Mingyu’s arm wrapped loosely over your shoulder while your head was tucked away in the nape of his neck with your arm resting on his chest – a closer look would reveal the bashful smile on your face.

“Why?” Mingyu had asked innocently through the phone when you had anxiously called to ask him the favor.

“I just like my privacy,” you had simply told him. “I would also rather . . . uh, keep our relationship out of the . . . public eye right now,” you chuckled nervously, “On the down-low?”

It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth.

“Okay,” he replied. Little did you know, his heart sank a little. He was excited for your relationship when it started that late spring – as corny as it sounded, it was as if the cherry blossoms bloomed late that year, just for the two of you to come together. Nonetheless, Mingyu wanted to try and be understanding and accommodating – you weren’t quite like any of the other girls he dated previously. “For future references though . . . would you be comfortable if I post pictures of us? Photography,” Mingyu let out a breathy, but nervous chuckle, “It's kind of a hobby of mine and I like sharing the ones I took.”

You had taken a minute to reply, your mind running at 100 miles per hour, weighing the pros and cons of the situation. It was as if the course of your whole relationship flashed before your eyes, the end seemingly soo and grim.

“I-I . . . um, for now, let’s not,” you stuttered, “Maybe as we go along I’ll be more comfortable – just ask.”

But as time continued, the situation didn’t seem to get better. Similarly to today, you’d only get quiet when he took pictures of you, quickly reminding him not to post it on Instagram. Though he was curious if there was more of a reason beyond your privacy, Mingyu never dared to question you. Yet, it made you all the more guilty as time went on.

He loved photography and he loved you – Mingyu was an altruistic and rather pure soul, so you knew his words weren’t without substance. You didn’t want to cut him off from his passion either – refraining from sharing your relationship was already a huge sacrifice for him. Mingyu was extroverted, confident, and unafraid to show himself to the world, and this included his photos and you. For that, you loved him, but you wouldn’t want him to change that for you.

“It’s fine,” you finally muttered.

Mingyu frowned, unconvinced. “Is it though?”

You pulled away from his hold, though not letting go of his hand. “J-just . . . give me a heads up next time okay? Like ‘hey, babe, I brought my camera and I might snap a few pictures,’ okay?”

A mischievous smile replaced the sullen look on his face. He cocked a curious eyebrow in your direction. “Babe?”

You rolled your eyes. “That wasn’t the point I was trying to make.”

Mingyu nodded, acknowledging your point. “I know, I know – I’ll let you know next time.”

“Don’t post it on Instagram,” you added.

Mingyu felt his heart drop into his stomach, unsettled. It’s been seven months and most, if not all of your friends knew at this point. Were you still so worried? Nevertheless, he shooed away the turbulent feeling and nodded. “Promise.”

Looking down at your watch, you tugged Mingyu along towards the exit of the store. “C’mon, it’s almost time to meet Younghee.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, nervous.

You chuckled at him, “Just be you and she’ll love you.”

“I purposely wore this jacket instead of my leather one because I thought it wouldn’t make me look like a fuck boy,” he noted as you pushed open the door. A clang sounded through the store as you walked out, being met by the crisp air of autumn.

You paused in your steps, turning to him and grabbing either side of his collar. Pulling him towards you, you placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “Mr. Kim,” you teased, “I think we’re past the point in adulthood where you can refer yourself to a fuck boy.”

“Mr. Kim? Are we getting–”

You pecked his lips again to stop him before he could say anything suggestive. “We’re not in university anymore,” you explained, “Nor are we . . . the young adults we used to be.”

“Babe,” Mingyu interrupted, dragging on the word. “You don’t have to be in university to be called a ‘fuck boy’ – Joshua has a full-time job and I can assure you, he still is one!”

“But you’re Kim Mingyu and you aren’t one,” you tilted your head coyly at him.

He pouted, stomping his feet. “I’m just still . . . mildly offended that she would think that.”

“Admittedly, I showed her a very hot picture of you,” you joked, hoping to take the edge off of him. You patted away an invisible crease on his jacket.

Mingyu wrapped his arms around your waist. His eyes darkened as he leaned in, replying in a low voice, “Did you now?”

“I did,” you placed two fingers on his forehead and pushed him away, eliciting a whine from him. You chuckled and marched along. “Younghee doesn’t like people who run late, so we gotta hurry.”

For a moment, Mingyu watched you walk down the street, your hair swaying behind you. He was grinning stupidly and happily, and people were probably staring at him on the street, but he didn’t care. Serendipity was the best way to describe your presence in Mingyu’s life. To this day, he still wonders why he didn’t notice you then when the both of you still attended the same university, your friend groups even clashing through Seungkwan and Seokmin. Nevertheless, he was grateful to have you now. You had problems and differences, but he was hopeful the two of you could work them out. You had to – it’s what people who love each other do when things get hard.

When you were a good distance away and noticed the lack of Mingyu’s presence, you turned around, eyebrows furrowed at him still standing by the streetlamp where you left him. He was grinning, though you weren’t quite sure at what. Just as you were about to call his name, he came jogging in your direction. Immediately, he linked hands with you and marched forward towards Younghee’s bakery again. Though he paid no mind to you, you stared at his profile curiously. Sometimes, you wondered what went on in that pretty head of his.

. . . .

Mingyu liked to think that he was a confident man, always willing to stand up to a challenge. If there was anything he wanted to do, he could put his mind to it and see it through. Yet, sitting here in front of Younghee with coffees that had grown lukewarm and half-eaten cranberry scones on the table, his cheeks burned with shame, the feeling of failure settling in the bottom of his stomach like a rock sinking to the bottom of a lake. Even with your presence next to him, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel like he had just flunked one of his university exams – it was like that, but ten times worse because he knew that there were no revisions.

To put it plainly, rather than this being a pleasant meeting between new friends, Younghee had just grilled him and Mingyu stumbled through it like a rat lost in the sewers. Interestingly, however, the first meeting seemed to go differently for Younghee, your friend, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest, with a sly, but pleased smile dancing on her lips.

An uncomfortable silence ensued. Underneath the table, you felt the warmth of Mingyu’s hand previously resting on your thigh leave your leg, nervously clasping his hands together in his own lap. His eyes fell from Younghee, choosing to take up interest in the creases of his hand instead. Mingyu’s short lashes fluttered quickly . . . almost as if he was blinking back tears? Concerned, you reached over and placed your hand over his, gently pushing them apart, so you could slot your hands in one of them. It didn’t require much effort as Mingyu knew, he needed your reassurance more than ever right now.

“Well, I should probably get back to work,” Younghee casually glanced down at her watch. “Gotta close the shop and prepare for tomorrow – lots to do.”

“Of course,” Mingyu replied softly. He looked up and smiled at your best friend, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

In contrast, Younghee grinned and leaned over the table. “It was an absolute pleasure to meet you, Mingyu,” her eyes flickered to you before they rested on his figure again. “I guess . . . you’re . . . much different from what I was expecting. I can kind of see why Y/N likes you now – I hope you stick around, get to know you better, make sure you’re the right fit for my best friend.”

“Younghee,” you warned.

She winked at you playfully. “I’m kidding, Mingyu – but really, it was a pleasure.” Younghee stood up from her chair and wiped her hands on her worn brown apron, stained with blotches of flour here and there. She extended a hand for Mingyu to take. “Come by again, okay?”

Mingyu was utterly confused at the invitation, but took her hand nonetheless. He moved towards the door of the bakery to grant you and your best friend a few moments of privacy to say your goodbyes. You were making your way over, adjusting your purse on your shoulder when Younghee suddenly called your name again. You responded with a soft hum.

“Joohyun’s getting married at the end of next month,” Younghee announced.

Mingyu watched the way you gripped onto the leather strap, your feet stuttering to a stop at the drop of the news – at least to him it was.

“Taehyung,” she continued, stretching out the last syllable. Mingyu noted the way your eyes visibly widen at the sound of the name, “He’s coming back for it, ya know?”

“Taehyung?” you choked. You spun around to look at your best friend, your mind reeled back to the lanky teenage boy with the round chocolate eyes and boxy grin, his hair neatly cut into a bowl cut. “As in Kim Taehyung?”

The space between Mingyu’s eyebrows dipped at the tone of your voice. It was definitely surprise, but was it the good kind? As in you were excited to hear again about this person? Or was it the bad kind, in which he left a dent in your heart? Either way, Mingyu did not have a good feeling about it.

Younghee nodded. “I’m surprised he hasn’t contacted you.”

“He hasn’t,” your voice trailed off, “We haven’t chatted for a while – lost touch the first or second year of university because we both got busy.”

“You’re going, right?” Younghee asked. You saw the way her eyes trailed to your boyfriend standing behind you, her lips pulled mischievously between her teeth. “With Mingyu?”

Right – Mingyu.

You didn’t have to turn around to know the way Mingyu’s lips were already set in a small pout, a crease between his sharp brows now softened in a dispirited expression. He thought he knew everything about you – good, straightforward communication and no secrets, like the two of you agreed. But why was this the first time he was hearing about Joohyun and her upcoming wedding when you seemed to have known for a while now?

Pressing your lips together, you nodded once stiffly. “Y-yeah, I think so.”

The hesitancy in your voice wrung Mingyu’s heart in a funny way.

“Good,” Younghee chuckled, hiding her smile behind the back of her hand. “Him in a suit would make for a dashing Instagram photo with lots of thirsty comments underneath.”

. . . .

“Who’s Joohyun?” Mingyu finally asked.

The two of you were on your way back to his car parked a few blocks away from Younghee’s bakery. The first half of the walk was oddly quiet, but you had chalked it up to Mingyu feeling disappointed about his conversation with Younghee. His usual charming ways did not quite work on the girl as it did with most people. You figured he needed his time and space to process the situation, only asking every now and then if he was okay and where he wanted to go for dinner. However, it seemed like it wasn’t Younghee on his mind, but rather someone else.

Mingyu reached into the pocket of your jacket, intertwining his fingers with yours that were tucked away inside. He eyed your side profile carefully, giving you a soft squeeze, waiting for you to return the gesture – it was your thing. He did this when he was nervous (which was not often) and needed reassurance, but too shy to tell you the truth out loud.

“She’s, uh . . . a friend,” you explained, squeezing his hand, “From high school.”

“How come you never mentioned her?” he pressed on.

“She wasn’t ever really relevant in our conversations,” you replied softly, “And we weren’t that close really.”

“But close enough to be invited to her wedding – in a month,” Mingyu huffed, “That you didn’t tell me about.”

“I-I was going to tell you,” you stuttered, “Ask you – eventually. I just wasn’t sure how.”

Mingyu let out a half-hearted chuckle. “How hard could it be? You know I would happily go anywhere with you.”

You shrugged, jostling your linked hands. “Our . . . agreement, you know?”

Even though it’s been months since the two of you decided to keep your relationship fairly hidden, it still didn’t fail to send a sting through his heart. He tried to be understanding and respectful of your values of privacy, but Mingyu liked to love loud. Holding your hands at events with friends, kisses out on the sidewalk, and cute Instagram photos of the most seemingly boring things were beautiful to him.

“How much longer do we have to keep it this way though?” Mingyu asked quietly.

“Mingyu,” you started slowly.

“I mean, at this point, all our friends know, right?” he pressed on, cutting you off. You could hear the exasperation in his voice overtaking his thought process. “Seungkwan, Seokmin, Soonyoung . . . I told Josh and Chan recently, and today we met Younghee.”

“I know,” you muttered, “B-but . . . there are just . . . so many other people who’ll be at the wedding.”

“I don’t care about those other people,” Mingyu deadpanned.

“And if I do?”

At this point, the both of you had stopped walking, your hands still linked. Mingyu searched your face for an answer – anything, yet you always managed to stay so stoic somehow. In contrast to him who wore his heart on his sleeves and his current emotions written all over his expression, your heart was hidden in the folds of your jacket while an expressionless mask shielded your true feelings. It made you seemingly strong, but sometimes, for him, Mingyu wished you would let your guard down and tell him what was bothering you.

“Is this about that Taeyong guy?” Mingyu asked abruptly.

Your eyebrows ticked, furrowing together momentarily before they returned to their places. A small frown on your face, you corrected him, “Taehyung.”

“Taehyung, Taeyong – tomato, to-mah-to.”

“Why are you asking about Taehyung?”

Mingyu shrugged, “I . . . dunno – you seemed pretty shocked to hear his name again and I was wondering why.”

“He’s just a friend who Younghee and I grew up with.”

“You seem to have a lot of friends I don’t know about,” Mingyu mumbled.

“He was a neighbor from down the street and we went to school together, but he ended up going to a different university. I really mean it when I say I haven’t seen him since the first year of university,” you quickly summarized, hoping to calm his nerves. “Any other questions?”

Mingyu twisted his lips, glancing at the crack along the curb. “Who was he to you?”

“A friend,” you answered promptly.

“Anything more?”

You shook your head fervently. “Why are you so curious?”

“I mean, Younghee specifically mentioned him. Seokmin and Seungkwan went to high school with you too, but she didn’t talk about them going,” he shrugged like a child upset on the playground, “Frankly, I’m curious – perhaps, mildly jealous.”

“Mingyu,” you frowned. You leaned in and wrapped your arms around his waist. “Taehyung was just a good friend of ours and neither of us have really heard from or seen him in a while. We see the other two fairly regularly. I’m surprised Tae’s even coming back for this.”

“Tae?” Mingyu repeated. You’ve only ever shortened his own name – he assumed he was special.

“Gyu,” you scowled at him for latching onto the miniscule change in detail.

Mingyu gnawed on the inside of his cheek. He should give you the benefit of the doubt, right? It’s been years and if there was something between you and this Taehyung, it would’ve happened already. If you said you were friends, then you must’ve been. He had no reason to question you otherwise.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Mingyu nodded and stepped towards you, bringing his hands up to your waist too.

“Okay,” he relented. He peered up at you, “But . . . the wedding?”

“What about the wedding?”

“Are we . . .” his voice trailed off, hoping you’d finish the thought for him.

But your answer was something he didn’t want to hear.

“I, uh . . . I do want to go with you,” you stuttered, “A-as my plus one.”

Visibly, Mingyu’s eyes lit up.

“But, I’m not sure yet,” you finished, your voice soft followed by a shaky breath. “Let me think about it, hm?”

The light in his eyes dimmed as quickly as they came. "What is there to think about?"

"It might not seem like a big deal to you, but it's a big deal to me – just . . . Be patient, okay?"

The corner of his lips sagging, he nodded slowly. “Okay."

Because that’s all he could do right now.

Be okay with it.

. . . .

Leaning against the pillar of the front office, Seungkwan cocked a curious eyebrow at you as you walked in, yielding a red lunchbox that you weren’t holding before you left. A wolfish grin grew as you neared with your eyes wide, silently warning him to keep any snark comments he had to himself. It didn’t deter Seungkwan from teasing you, however – it never did, especially when it came to Mingyu. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he jovially joined your side.

“Mingyu came by again, didn’t he, love?” Seungkwan asked, using the nickname, he’s heard Mingyu call you more than a thousand times at this point.

“Shut up,” you grumbled.

“He packed you lunch too?” Seungkwan pointed to the red lunchbox in your hand. “You guys are so domestic.”

“He didn’t – I just forgot it at home,” you tried to explain as you got onto the metal crate.

“Oh so he spent the night?” Seungkwan pondered aloud, hiding a chuckle behind his hand.

Aggressively punching the button reading ‘9’, you turned to your supposed friend and glared at him. “Boo Seungkwan if you know what’s good for you–”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Seungkwan let out a boisterous laugh as the elevator door closed. He wrapped his arms around your shoulder. “I just think it’s very cute to see you so in love – I feel like . . . a proud mother, that’s all.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to shake him off your shoulder as the elevator door opened. If there was one bad thing about working at the same company as your friend, it’s the constant teasing when you were trying to be serious. The two of you weaved around the hallway towards the lunchroom, engaging in a light conversation about your weekends.

“Younghee finally met Mingyu,” you announced when the two of you settled down at a lunch table.

“Oh yeah?” Seungkwan stuffed the egg salad sandwich in his mouth. “How’d it go?”

“You know Younghee,” you shrugged, “She was all ‘no shits’ and serious – her talk was worse than Soonyoung’s! I’m pretty sure she scared Mingyu.”

Seungkwan chortled, taking a quick swig of his sparkling water to wash down his food. “Sounds like Younghee.”

“He did well though,” you nodded, poking your chopsticks at your vegetables. “I think she likes him enough for now.”

“Is she the last friend you have to tell?” Seungkwan asked, knowing well about your decision to keep yours and Mingyu’s relationship a secret from the beginning.

You paused, letting the chopsticks that were halfway to your lips drop with a clatter against the container. Your mind reeled back to the part you left out of meeting with Younghee: Joohyun’s wedding and Taehyung.

“Younghee brought up Joohyun’s wedding,” you started, your voice suddenly growing soft.

“And?” Seungkwan pressed on. He was confused with your change in demeanor.

“I . . . hadn’t told Mingyu about it yet.”

“Oh,” Seungkwan puckered his lips.

That was kind of bad.

“Then Younghee said Taehyung was coming back to town for it.”

“Oh,” Seungkwan reiterated, as if it couldn’t get any worse. He remembered Taehyung very well.

“Yeah,” you muttered.

Silence ensued while you picked at your food. Seungkwan watched you carefully, questions about your situation spinning in his mind as they always have since you asked him, Seokmin, and Soonyoung to stay quiet about your relationship with Mingyu. Initially, the request to keep it a secret made sense: it was a new relationship, let alone with Mingyu. However, the two of you got along so well, it didn’t make sense for you to be insecure now. You telling Younghee was the final step to ending all of this, no? From Seungkwan’s point-of-view, all your dilemmas and inner turmoil could be solved with one simple solution.

Holding his sandwich up to his lips, Seungkwan let out a sigh and shook his head. He looked up at you, his round eyes narrowed in confusion. “I don’t get it – why don’t you want people to find out about you and Mingyu still?”

You chewed slowly on your rice, taking your time to grind each piece and swallow it down with a sip of ice water. Seungkwan refrained from eating his sandwich until you replied.

Your eyes flickered hesitantly up at him before they fell on your tray again. Bringing your fist to your lips, you faked a cough, clearing your throat of your food.

“Y/N,” Seungkwan said sternly.

“I-it’s . . . too early, okay?” you stuttered.

“You’ve been together for almost a year now,” he deadpanned.

“It’s only been seven months,” you corrected him.

“And?”

“Mingyu’s best relationship lasted six months and we just barely made it past that,” you explained, the pace at which words were flying out of your mouth was astronomical. “I just want to make sure it’s not just a honeymoon phase and our relationship works out okay before it . . . gets out there. I’m comfortable with our close friends knowing, but not the whole world and Mingyu knows quite literally, the whole world.”

“What do you mean?” Seungkwan scrunched up his nose. “He’s friendly, but he doesn’t know the whole world – you're exaggerating.”

You sighed heavily, slumping over on the lunch table. “Unlike me, he’s quite friendly and makes friends anywhere he goes – it could be a rock and he’d somehow make relations with it! His Instagram following is also insane for a regular, non-celeb person.”

Seungkwan frowned and shook his head. “And that matters because . . .?”

You suddenly felt small and bare – vulnerable in a place where you shouldn’t be so. For some reason, however, the small voice at the back of your head told you that maybe you should share this insecurity with someone – and perhaps that someone could also be Seungkwan. “Mingyu’s been in a lot of relationships before me and, uh, I just . . . don’t want to be another girl who dated Kim Mingyu.”

Seungkwan’s eyes soften at your response.

“Is that why you don’t want to post a picture with him on Instagram?”

“Partly,” you shrugged, “Research also shows that 67 percent of couples who post about their relationship consistently are insecure and about 45 percent of those social media couples break up.” You sucked in a sharp breath and lifted your eyes to meet Seungkwan’s gaze. “And as you know, Mingyu’s past relationships kind of . . . followed that trend.”

“Aaaww, my dear, Y/N,” Seungkwan cooed. He ruffled your hair lovingly. “You really think Mingyu is unsure of your guys’ relationship, so he needs to upload pictures to reinforce it?”

You swatted Seungkwan’s hand away and brushed your strands back into place. “Shut up,” you grumbled.

Seungkwan smiled at you apologetically, stars shining in his eyes. “You really love him, don’t you?”

“Love is a stretch,” you stammered, “But like? Yeah, um, I like him . . . a lot.”

“Honestly, Y/N,” Seungkwan took a bite of his sandwich, “I don’t think you need to worry about anything. You’re different.”

“What do you mean, different?”

“Different from the previous girls,” he replied with his full. He took a swig of his iced Americano to wash the food down. “He’s different with you.”

“As in . . .?”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, shooting you a look of disbelief – as if you grew antennas from your head. “I guess it’s not fair to assume you’d know, but I’ve been around when Mingyu dated other people and I’m currently around while he’s dating you, and honestly? I hope he keeps dating you. Of course, getting engaged and marriage aside, but I’ve never seen him so . . . calm and sure before? I’m not sure if ‘sure’ is the right word, but there’s a sense of stability and content – maturity, maybe? I haven’t seen it before. Sure the other girls might have been prettier or more fun, and he squealed like a thirteen year-old girl getting tickets to a BTS concert after amusement park dates, but with you? He looks like he’s actually having fun cleaning with you.”

You tuned out as Seungkwan continued to ramble on. It was indeed nice to get an outsider’s perspective rather than being stuck in your own head. Your friend was probably right, and you were being irrational. But that’s what fear did to you. Mingyu was understanding and you know if you brought it up eventually, he’d be more than willing to listen and reassure you to the world's end. There was a piece of you that still hesitated, nonetheless. What if he got mad at you?

“If you’re that worried about it, I’d just bring it up to Mingyu – he’s understanding and has a good head on his shoulders,” Seungkwan finally finished ou.

Stuffing your cheeks with rice, you gave Seungkwan a small nod. “I’ll think about it.”

. . . .

[unknown number]: hey

[unknown number]: this is tae :)

[unknown number]: kim taehyung from high school if you remember me haha

[unknown number]: younghee gave me your new number – i hope you don’t mind:)

[unknown number]: i just wanted to say hello and see if you were free to meet up?

A warm mug of coffee in his hand, Mingyu paused and stared blankly at your phone as each new message from Taehyung flashed across your screen. He frowned, tightening his abdomen as if it would do anything to control the nerves swirling in the pits of his stomach right now. Baseless thoughts flooding his mind, he failed to hear your padded footsteps behind him.

“Whatcha doing, Gyu?” you asked, reaching for your coat.

Swiftly, he turned around and smiled at you, though it didn't reach his eyes like most times.

“Ready?” Mingyu asked, avoiding your question.

He didn’t miss the way the space between your brows dipped slightly at him avoiding your question. You chose not to hound him on it, however.

“Yeah,” you untucked your hair from the collar and reached for your phone.

Holding his breath, Mingyu watched you carefully as you swiped at the screen. His heart sank a little when the little smile on your face formed at the new messages from an old friend. It was the smile he pictured you would have every time he sent you something.

Tugging on the arm of his jacket, Mingyu asked softly, “Who’s got smiling like that?”

You stopped in the middle of tapping away at a new message to Taehyung. You pulled your lips into a slight pout. “Like what?”

Mingyu waved his hand at your face before tucking them into his pockets. “Like that – the small one where you’re incredibly happy but you’re nervous to show it.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, clicking off your phone and dropping it into your purse instead. You extended a hand for him to take. “Only you Mingyu.”

“You sure?”

“With my whole heart.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me it was Taehyung messaging you?” Mingyu muttered.

It was now your turn to frown. You didn’t have anything to hide from him nor was it the idea that he was snooping at your texts that made you upset. It was the fact that he was withholding his feelings from you. He was upset, jealous maybe, and he didn’t want to tell you.

“Gyu – are you still hung up on that?” you asked.

His gaze drifted to your hands. He rubbed small circles into the back of your skin, opting not to answer.

Gently, you pulled your hands from him and moved up to cup his cheeks instead, forcing him to look at you. He stared at you reluctantly with his puppy-like eyes.

“He’s just a friend, Gyu,” you reminded him, “No one’s taking me away from you.”

Mingyu gulped, scared. You’ve never been quite this certain with your words before. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Wrapping his fingers around your own, he pulled them off his face, lacing them together in the space between you. He took note of the new coat of baby pink nail polish on your fingertips. Silently, he brushed the rough pads of his fingers over them – they were calloused from the barbells at the gym.

If you told him not to worry, there was no use in worrying, right?

You loved him and he loved you.

“Okay,” Mingyu finally relented.

“Let’s go get those groceries now, hm?” you hummed, tightening your fingers around his.

He nodded, his heart swelling once more. It was simple, grocery shopping, but it was in the ordinary things like this that were all the more precious because they were with you.

. . . .

“Kim Taehyung?” Seokmin sits back, wracking his brain for a mental image of the man.

Despite your reassurance, Mingyu was growing skeptical – more of Taehyung’s intention than he was of you. These past few days, you had been texting Taehyung non-stop and it was making Mingyu nervous. Your giggles were becoming more frequent and whenever Mingyu asked, it was always “back in high school Taehyung and I did this” or “Taehyung just said the funniest thing” when it wasn’t even that funny.

It was bearable until it wasn’t.

When you broke the news to him yesterday that you had agreed to meet up over coffee with Taehyung, it really pressed Mingyu into acceleration mode – nearly veering off a cliff.

Was Mingyu worried that you would intentionally cheat on him? Absolutely not – you loved him and it showed enough. You were just happy to see your childhood friend again. Admittedly, the two of you did have some pretty bizarre memories. The story of when Taehyung got Hot Tamales stuck in his nose in detention was quite entertaining – Mingyu choked on his salad at that one.

Was Mingyu worried that Taehyung might try to pull something funny and sweep you up from under his nose? Absolutely. You were smart, pretty, shy, but outgoing enough. You had a charm to you that was attractive and alluring. Not to mention, Mingyu has done his research (read: Instagram stalking) and Taehyung was undeniably gorgeous. His aesthetic was classy and sophisticated, sprinkled in with a touch of goofiness.

He definitely seemed to be “your type” – Taehyung was every girls’ dream type: a handsome gentleman with a touch of humor.

Hell, even Mingyu almost fell for the man.

Hence why today, Mingyu recruited the help of Seokmin to prevent you from falling for Taehyung and Taehyung from falling for you.

In an attempt to help jog Seokmin’s, Mingyu slipped his phone across the table, the screen displaying Taehyung’s Instagram page. Seokmin narrows his eyes curiously at his friend and reaches over for the phone, slowly scrolling through the pictures. As he gets further and further down, you could see the epiphany forming on Seokmin’s face.

“This Kim Taehyung!” Seokmin screeched. He snapped and pointed at Mingyu. The latter winced back in confusion at his friend’s sudden excitement. Hands clasped tightly over Mingyu’s phone, Seokmin leaned over the table as if he had a secret to share with Mingyu. “Taehyung from high school – yes, I remember him. He hung out with Y/N – and so Younghee by default too, a lot. I thought it was a little weird at first, but didn’t think much of it since they just seemed like good friends and he was a nice kid! He grew up on the outskirts of town, kinda grubby, to be honest, but very sweet and goofy – shy too.”

Seokmin wiggled his eyebrows as if he had the hottest tea to spill. “But,” he dragged out, “Senior year at someone’s graduation party, we found out he did actually have a crush on Y/N!”

Seokmin glances down at the pictures again, his eyes latching on a black and white photo of Taehyung staring mysteriously into the camera, a hand placed teasingly by his temple. His forearms were ripped. Seokmin shook his head in amazement, letting out a shocked groan. “Wah, I can’t believe he grew up to look like this! He’s gorgeous! Almost identical to V of BTS!”

Eyes downcast on the chipped mahogany table, Mingyu couldn’t help but frown at Seokmin’s reaction. If his friend was this excited and shocked to see Taehyung again, how would you react? Let alone, knowing the two of you were close friends too.

Seokmin finally took the hint when Mingyu remained quiet, calming down from his marvel. “I mean,” Seokmin coughed, thumbing through Taehyung’s profile some more, “He’s not that handsome – nothing compared to you Mingyu. You’re much better looking than him.” He stopped at a photo of Sesame plushies lined up on the couch. “I mean look at this – he likes stuffed animals like a kid!”

“Seok,” Mingyu deadpanned.

Seokmin shrugged back, mumbling a soft apology. He cleared his throat. “Okay, um, well, why are you asking if I know him?”

“Y/N’s meeting up with him tomorrow,” Mingyu explained.

“Aahhh,” Seokmin nodded slowly, starting to put the puzzle pieces together. “You’re nervous she’s gonna fall for him, aren’t you?”

Mingyu’s eyes flickered up timorously at him then downcast at his fingers.

“Eeeyy,” Seokmin dragged out, “Have a little faith in Y/N? She’s whipped for you even if she holds back a little.”

Mingyu frowned even at Seokmin.

“Okay, well maybe not a little – she holds back a lot, but she’s just nervous, okay?” Seokmin tried to reassure him.

“About what? I try my best to remind her she’s the only apple of my eye every day,” Mingyu pouted.

“I mean, I would be scared too if I was dating you,” Seokmin noted.

Mingyu furrowed his brows at Seokmin, wondering what his friend was getting at. However, that wasn’t the purpose of this meeting though. He had to get to the main point – it was easy to get caught up in tangents with Seokmin.

“I need you to help me tomorrow,” Mingyu started again.

“Huh?” Seokmin frowned.

“I’m gonna follow Y/N and Taehyung to their coffee thing tomorrow,” Mingyu told him, “Make sure he doesn’t pull any funny moves on her.”

“Mingyu, don’t you think that’s a little –”

Mingyu sighed heavily, cutting off his friend. “I . . . just want to make sure, Seok,” he fumbled with his thumbs. “I . . . really like Y/N – like really, really, really like her.”

“So you . . . love . . . her?”

“I . . . think so,” Mingyu pressed his lips into a thin line. “I just . . . don’t want her to slip out of my grasp.”

MIngyu looked like a kicked puppy, his eyes literally sagging at the thought of losing you. The sad expression on Mingyu’s face tugged at Seokmin’s heartstrings (granted, he cried very easily, but still). What's worse could happen if he just lets Mingyu follow you this once? Mingyu would only be reassured because Seokmin was sure you wouldn’t swoon so easily for Taehyung. If you had, you wouldn’t be here with Mingyu all these years later.

“Fine,” Seokmin sighed. “Whatchu got for disguises?”

. . . .

Detective trench coats, sunglasses, and a fake mustache.

Very original.

Seokmin rolled his eyes behind his Ray Ban sunglasses as Mingyu looked not very covertly over his menu, craning his neck to get a better look at you and Taehyung. A bell of laughter erupted from yours and Taehyung’s table. You threw your head back, covering your fabulous smile with the back of your hand.

“Can you hear what they’re talking about?” Mingyu whispered. “What’s so funny?”

“Mingyu,” Seokmin tugged at the fake mustache that his friend made him wear. Fuck, it was itchy. “You’re being ridiculous – why would we be able to hear what they’re saying? We’re literally on the opposite end of the cafe!”

“Am not!” Mingyu pouted. “You just need to listen better.”

“They’re literally just laughing like old friends,” Seokmin peeled the mustache off, wincing in pain as it tugged at his upper lip. “Mingyu, when you said we were following them, I thought you meant just standing from afar to make sure Tae doesn’t put his hand on her ass or something.”

Seokmin had expected his friend to protest in return, but Mingyu just remained silent. Through the sides of his shades, Seokmin could make out his hardened gaze was hardened on you and Taehyung. You were leaning over the table while Taehyung held up his cell phone aimed at the two of you. Seokmin presumed he was just taking a selfie. Your pink-glossed lips were spread wide in a happy grin, Taehyung holding up a playful peace sign. Why was Mingyu so upset?

“Uh, Mingyu?” Seokmin called.

Still no answer.

The moment Taehyung set down his phone, swiping at his screen, Mingyu whipped out his own device. He quickly logged into Instagram and typed in ‘thv’, pulling up Taehyung’s page.

“Mingyu –”

Aggressively, Mingyu pulled the toggle down to refresh the page. He did it again and again, until a new photo popped up in the upper left corner.

‘Reunited </3,’ the caption read under a photo of you and Taehyung he had taken just moments ago.

That was the last straw for Mingyu. Aggressively, he got up from his chair, nearly toppling it over. He ripped off his sunglasses and started walking – stomping, towards your table.

“Oh – oh my god, Mingyu! Stop!” Seokmin hissed as he lunged forward. Mingyu’s pace was a tad too fast for Seokmin, his fingers barely grazing against his coat. Before Seokmin knew it, they were both standing at the foot of your table and you were blankly staring up at Mingyu.

Taehyung peered up innocently, his face lighting up when he saw Seokmin.

“Seokmin!” Taehyung called cheerfully.

“H-hi!” Seokmin laughed nervously. He punched Mingyu’s shoulder, but his gaze was hard and set on you.

Taehyung looked back to you, then Mingyu, and back at you. He figured half as much as you and the tall, handsome man were acquainted with one another.

“Who’s this?” Taehyung asked curiously. He brushed his wavy bangs out his eyes, tucking hand into his pocket. A gentle smile on his face, his eyes scanned your boyfriend up and down, oblivious to the daggers Mingyu was sending his way.

“This is . . . Mingyu,” you explained hesitantly. It was as if time was moving through viscous honey, all eyes on you waiting for a further explanation beyond his name. Yet in this moment, all you could see was the man who’s name just slipped from your mouth. Usually, it tasted like cotton candy, but the shift from envy to desperation in his eyes as he anxiously gnawed at the inside of his cheek, waiting for you to tell them the truth, the taste of iron spreading across your tongue.

“He’s . . . a good friend,” you finished, your voice soft.

And that was the final nail in the coffin.

“Oh!” Taehyung chuckled innocently, already extending a hand towards Mingyu. “We’re the same. I’m Taehyung, Kim Taehyung – also a friend of Y/N’s. Nice to meet you!”

Silence, then a beat. Only the chatter of the other customers and the hissing of the espresso machine filled the air.

Mingyu pressed his lips into a thin line, clearing his throat and offered Taehyung a tight smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Taehyung.”

“Do you guys want to sit with us?” Taehyung offered, moving his Boston bag from the chair next to him, already making room for the two. “We were just about to order.”

Mingyu chortled half-heartedly and shook his head. “Thank you, but we should be on our way. Just . . . stopped to say ‘hello.’” Mingyu’s eyes flickered to you once more. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

And with that, Mingyu was gone.

. . . .

Coffee with Taehyung was anything, but fun after Mingyu and Seokmin’s departure. As much as you tried to stay engaged and keep up with his stories about traveling across Europe with his new job, it was clear your mind was elsewhere. You were on edge, eyes flitting to your watch every five minutes, your fingers tapping at your phone screen every chance you got to see if you got any messages from Mingyu (spoiler: you didn’t). It was Taehyung who cut the hangout short. He knew something wasn’t quite right between you and your so-called “friend,” but was a polite man and pretended not to notice. Taehyung fibbed and told you he had forgotten he had a meeting to attend instead.

After bidding him goodbye, you sped walk back to the safety of your apartment, already rehearsing in your mind what you would say to Mingyu when you call him later. You paid no mind to the fact that his car was parked in the guest lot. Nor did you bother to listen to Mrs. Lee who worked the front desk, when she tried to tell you she saw Mingyu coming in earlier, only offering her a brisk nod.

Hence, when you finally opened the door to your safe haven and let out a deep breath, pressing your body against the silver handle, you didn’t expect the familiar sound of Mingyu clearing his throat.

Your eyes shot up to find him sitting at your kitchen island, his elbows propped up on the table. The trench coat he was sporting earlier was draped over the chair next to him, suggesting he immediately came to your apartment after leaving the cafe. He had a key to your place after all.

Your breath hitched in your throat, unsure of what to say. You knew you had fucked up introducing him as a friend to Taehyung, but your thoughts were jumbled and you couldn’t dare face him now. All you had prepared earlier vanished from your brain.

You had to move (and think) fast as Mingyu was already making his way towards you, getting out of his chair. You pushed yourself off the door, preparing yourself to walk past him and drop your stuff off in room in an effort to give yourself a little more time to think. You should've known better that Mingyu would never let you make it that far though – not with this large of an elephant in the room.

Mingyu stood 187 centimeters tall and showed in his reach as his hand latched onto your bicep, stopping you abruptly in your tracks. His head turned robotically towards you, staring holes into your head. You could see in the side of your eye, the hurt in his face, silently begging you to say something.

Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply before you spoke. "Can we not –"

"No," he said softly.

“Mingyu–”

“No,” Mingyu stated more firmly this time. His voice was loud and commanding, taking you by surprise. He’s never raised his voice at you before. You caught sight of his grip on the edges of the granite counter; he was holding so tight, his knuckles grew white.

“We’re not going to wait anymore – we’re talking about this now,” Mingyu continued. He took note of your stunned expression. “I’m tired and this is wearing on me, Y/N; I’m not sure how much of it I can take, but I also know I don’t want to lose you over something that could’ve been easily solved if we were just . . . honest about our feelings. I truly want this,” he waves his finger between the two of you, “to work . . . So please."

You gnawed the inside of your cheek, staring into his sharp dark brown eyes. You weren't used to them filled with so much sorrow and anger, and it pained you knowing you were the cause of it. As much as you were afraid of the dark path where this conversation may lead, you also knew it needed to be had if you wanted your relationship with Mingyu to progress – and you did.

With a heavy sigh, eyes downcasted on Mingyu’s hand on your arm, and nodded, silently agreeing to talk this through. His hand slipped down the expanse of your arm and laced his fingers with yours. His grip, but even in trying times, he held your hand ever so tenderly – because this was Kim Mingyu: unshakeable, yet soft hearted.

“Where do you want to start?” you asked quietly as the two of you settled onto your blue couch. He still hadn’t let go of your hand.

Swallowing harshly, you could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Are you ashamed of me . . .? Of dating me?”

Your heart sank; though his words were minimal, the look in his eyes was deep. That was the thing about Mingyu. Perhaps he never cried in front of you (or anyone for that matter) and he never got outright angry, but one look in his eyes and they were a dead give away about the feelings swirling in his heart and the thoughts tumbling in his mind. Right now, his eyes told you heart was bruised and his mind was confused and set on one thing only: you.

“It’s not that Mingyu,” you muttered. You could feel your airway tightening, your esophagus growing stiff. It was getting hard to even swallow your own saliva.

“Then what is it?” Mingyu asked impatiently, “Why is it that you didn’t tell anyone outside of our mutual friends about our relationship? Why did you wait seven months to tell Younghee? Why did you introduce me as “a good friend” to Taehyung? Why can’t I post pictures of you, of us, on my Instagram, but Taehyung can?”

There was a long pause before you spoke again. It only grew harder for Mingyu every ticking second, he could feel an uncomfortable warmth spreading across his chest, threatening to boil over.

“I’m scared,” you replied in a small voice. If it hadn’t been dead silent, Mingyu probably wouldn’t have heard you.

“What?” Mingyu frowned. “What are you afraid of?”

“This,” you shook his hand, gesturing between the two of you. “Us. You and me. I’m . . . like, it’s too good to be true --you're too good to be true. And it's not even because you're handsome or whatever, Mingyu. It's your patience and consideration. It's your willingness to drop everything for the people you love. Do you remember that time Seungkwan got a flat tire? You had a big presentation at work, but rescheduled it and left early to go help him. You love so . . . so openly and loudly, not just through words.

"Sometimes I wonder if I even deserve you? I’m scared that it’s all a dream and tomorrow when I wake up, you’ll be gone. I’m afraid that I’ll grow too attached – fuck, I'm probably already in too deep, and when we don't work out, it'll hurt more than it needs to.”

Mingyu sucked in a sharp breath, nodding slowly as he digested your confession. So this is what Seokmin must’ve meant when he said he would be nervous too if he was you. Truthfully, it was hurtful to hear all of this, but not necessarily irrational. Mingyu too thought you were too good to be true – all his past relationships were rather vain, ending because he wasn’t who they had dreamed him to be. They found his love for architecture boring and when he couldn’t meet their expectations of extravagant dates, they pouted until Mingyu came running with flowers and chocolates. It got tiring - fast.

However, the difference was in that Mingyu trusted the process and let himself grow attached to you. Never mind the thoughts of no longer having you by his side while taking Sunday morning strolls or staying up until 4AM on Friday nights because you both thought it would be a good idea to try the Starbucks PSL at 8PM. He lived in the moment, and while this didn’t mean he didn’t think about a future with you, he wanted to relish in all phases of being in love with you. What hurt him was the fact that you harbored all these feelings to yourself, not trusting him to understand your emotions and insecurities.

"And is that why you want to keep us a secret? Because you're scared I'm going to leave you?" Mingyu finally asked.

"It’s not . . . Completely baseless," you muttered, looking away from him.

"Then tell me more."

"It’s stupid."

"I'm sure it's not." He raised his eyebrows at you, silently warning you not to be stubborn but also reassuring you that he just wanted you to be heard. He knew how stuck in your head you could get when you were overcritical of yourself.

"When . . . we were in university, I followed you on Instagram because you know,” you shrugged, picking through your mind to find the right words. “And I saw all the girls you dated and how . . . they didn't last.

“And one day, I was doing some light reading on Pledis Times and there was a study that talked about couples on social media . . . How they felt insecure and overcompensated with photos and videos of each other . . . And ultimately, most of them broke up. I, um . . . as much as I lo– I mean like you, I feared that the louder we were about ‘us,’ I’d just end up being ‘just another girl’ who dated Mingyu.”

It was nothing to be shameful of, yet, your cheeks burned. You couldn’t bear to look at him. As the silence between you grew louder, the urge to flee to the sanctuary of your room became overwhelming. You squirmed in your seat, inching away from him.

“Love,” Mingyu chortled. You felt him give your hands a squeeze in an attempt to stop you from moving.

“I told you it was stupid,” you muttered.

Rather than replying to you with words, however, Mingyu leaned over and captured your lips instead. He pressed against you with just enough pressure to reassure that you were his whole world, but not enough to scare you off. The kiss was firm, but tender – like Mingyu.

When he pulled away, an apology spilled from your lips as if on instinct. You weren’t sure why but you felt you owed him one. Mingyu shook his head slowly as rested his forehead against yours, while his fingers played with the loose ends of your hair.

“You don’t need to be sorry for your own feelings,” Mingyu said.

“I ended up hurting you though,” you whimpered.

Tucking your head under his chin, he hummed. “I think I’m more hurt by the fact that you didn’t tell me you were feeling this way. I just assumed you just wanted to keep things under wraps because we were a ‘new thing’ and wanted to take things slow.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled again.

“It must’ve been hard, hm?” Mingyu noted as he stroked the crown of your head. “I don’t know what else I need to do, but trust that I’m utterly heads over heels about you, alright? If you need me to tell you every day until you believe me, I will.” he tugged your hand out of your lap and placed it over his heart. There was a fast, but rhythmic thump.

”You feel that?” he asked.

You chortled softly. “Mingyu, I think I know where you’re going with this and it’s kind of corny.”

“I don’t care – you’re the only girl who has made me feel this way. The sight of you excites me, but it all feels . . . right. I’m scared, but I’m reassured things will fall into place in due time.”

You curled your fingers around his heart, letting his voice vibrate from his chest and flow into your ears melodically.

“As unreal as I seem to you, you are equally a dream I don’t want to fade either,” Mingyu continued to explain. “No one has ever sat patiently and listened to me ramble about cameras for two hours, let alone when you don’t know the first thing about photography. You match my ‘grandpa’ energy, willingly going on hikes with me on the trails hours away from the city to keep me company. Heck, you didn’t even blink twice when I accidentally sneezed on you or scratched my ass in front of you during the first month we dated.”

“Gyu,” you chuckled, burying your face into his chest.

He kissed the crown of your head. You could feel smiling into your hair. “Instagram, old girlfriends, old boyfriends–”

“Taehyung was a childhood friend,” you remarked.

“Old childhood friends,” Mingyu corrected himself, “And statistical data aside, it sounds like we’re both scared – and that’s not a bad thing, okay? It means we both care deeply about this relationship and neither of us would let it slip away so easily. That said, I also don’t want that fear getting in between us. I love you and I trust you – I could only hope you feel the same for me.”

And for the first time in your relationship, you decided you wanted to be strong for Mingyu – you needed to be. Too long you’ve locked away your feelings and let them run how you act around him with others. Rather than hiding away in his embrace and kissing him in secret, perhaps it was your time to love him just as loudly as he has loved you all this time.

Rising from his chest, you peered up at him through your lashes. There was nothing but adoration for you gracing his face, patiently waiting for you to say something.

“I do,” you replied hesitantly, “I . . . love you and I trust you too, and I’m sorry if I’ve struggled to show it, but I’ll be braver – I’ll change.”

“I don’t want you to change,” Mingyu cupped your cheeks, squishing them together. “I love you for you, and If you don’t want to be vocal about it, we don’t have to.”

You pushed his hands away and pecked his lips, shaking your head. “I want to – no more hiding. Let your 14.5K Instagram followers know that I’m utterly head over heels for you, Kim Mingyu.”

He grinned from ear to ear, his cheeks puffing up like marshmallows. He leaned over and gave you another breathtaking, yet simple kiss. How he was so relieved to be able to show you to the world.

“I have a lot of pictures to choose from, you know?”

. . . .

Joohyun’s wedding was a success – the blizzard outside and blustery wind seeping through the windows aside. Her and her new husband’s wedding photos were going to be absolutely stunning with all the winter white snow though, Mingyu had whispered to you during the ceremony. Bellies full of chicken and mashed potatoes, garters and bouquets tossed to all the single people, the reception was finally getting started. The DJ played bopped to the upbeat dance music, people starting to stream in and join the bride and groom.

Mingyu had an arm thrown over your shoulder, his hand resting on the head of your chair. Arms crossed, you leaned into his chest and watched your friends sing and dance happily to Tao Cruz's Dynamite. You had that smile on your face that Mingyu adored so much – the small one where you knew you were incredibly happy, but afraid to show too much of it.

Mingyu watched the crowd while pointing out funny occurrences on the dance floor. Soonyoung getting top excited and wrapping his tie around his forehead. Chan and Seungkwan were krumping in the corner as a small crowd formed around them. They both backed away when Seulgi pushed between them, however, a round of "oohs" and "ahhs" at her sharp and playful dance moves.

"Hello, Y/N," a familiar voice called from afar. Your attention turned to the source of the voice, your face spreading into a grin at the sight of Taehyung weaving through the tables. Though Mingyu knew he was ultimately no threat, he couldn’t help but stiffen at the presence of the other man.

Taehyung tipped his head in Mingyu’s direction. "Y'N's good friend," he teased, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Tae," you greeted him with an eye roll, "How's the party going for you?"

"Splendid," he tucked his hand into his pants pocket. "Got myself a nice cocktail earlier, caught up with Younghee, and even caught myself a garter," he pulled out the thing and waved it in the air.

"Gross," you chuckled.

He winked at you playfully and tilted his head at the dance floor. "What do you say, old friend? Wanna dance? Make it up to me when you went with Seokjin to prom instead?"

Instinctively, Mingyu found himself wrapping a hand around your waist, tugging you protectively into his side. Taehyung took note of this. "Your good friend is rather possessive."

You gave Mingyu a warning look, gently pushing his hand off your abdomen. You gave him a reassuring squeeze in an attempt to calm his nerves. "Mingyu’s actually my boyfriend."

Taehyung nodded. "I figured when he looked like he was ready to take me out at the cafe," he clicked his tongue against his teeth. He laughed at the sheepish look that crossed Mingyu's face. "It was worth a shot though," he shrugged, "In all seriousness, I'm happy for you, Y/N. He seems to like you a lot."

"Thank you," you turned and peered at him shyly through your lashes. Mingyu took it as a cue to press his lips against your temple.

"Alright, alright," Taehyung waved you off, shielding his eyes. "I'm gonna leave you lovebirds alone," he pointed at pretty blonde in a silk spring green gown sitting in the corner, her eyes wandering the venue. "I'm gonna go shoot my shot over there."

"Sure thing, buddy," you giggled.

He gave you both one last wave of goodbye. "The next wedding I see you at, it better be yours!"

"You caught the garter, Tae!" you shot back.

He gave you both one last boxy grin before he turned his back to you. Immediately, Mingyu let out a brisk 'tsk'.

"I like him, but he sure knows how to push my buttons," Mingyu huffed.

"It’s Tae," you giggled watching your friend approach the girl. She blushed when Tae extended a hand. "He teases a lot – it's his thing."

"Ladies and gentlemen, why don't we slow it down for the night?" The DJ tapped into his mic and announced, not giving Mingyu a chance to pout further. The gentle strumming of the guitar in Ed Sheeran’s ‘Photograph’ filled every corner of the room.

Mingyu brushed his lips gently against your cheek. His hot breath hit your skin as he asked, “If you won’t dance with Tae, will you dance with me?”

You rolled your eyes as if the answer wasn’t obvious. Your hand was already reaching for his own, leading him to the dance floor. Not letting go of him, you spun around to rest your free hand around his neck. The two of you settled into a gentle sway, Mingyu holding you by your waist and guiding you through the waltz. He grinned at you, his canines peeking out. Even under the dim lighting, his sharp eyes twinkled with fondness. Your face reflected his joy, the small smile spreading into something bigger.

You loved him and he loved you, there was no denying it.

“Bro,” Seungkwan sipped on his drink, nudging Seokmin. He pointed at you and Mingyu on the dance floor. Seokmin grinned widely, fishing for his phone in his pocket. He aimed his camera at the two of you, zooming in and adjusting the lighting to best capture all your features in the photo.

“They’re so in love, I’m kind of regretting introducing them to each other,” Seungkwan grimaced, swallowing down the bitter taste of his alcohol.

Seokmin slapped his arm. “Don’t say that – they look cute.”

Seungkwan leaned over and peeked at the photos on his friend’s phone. He nodded in approval at the one that captured your grin over Mingyu’s shoulder, your dress swirling at your calves very prettily.

“Post that one to the ‘gram,” Seungkwan chuckled.

“Ew, don’t say that,” Seokmin looked at him scornfully. “You sound like an old fart.”

“They’ll thank me later,” Seungkwan shrugged.

Even after your intervention, neither you nor Mingyu had posted anything onto the web to suggest that you were dating to your followers – not that it was a big deal to either of you at this point. If a good photo comes up, you would. It was just not on the forefront of your mind anymore and the both of you had been too busy to look through Mingyu’s gallery.

Seungkwan figured, if you guys wouldn’t be loud about your relationship, he would – it was the least he could do to support the Mingyu-Y/N agenda.

Nonetheless, it didn’t take an Instagram post to know you were mad about one another.

Without words, pictures, or even a peep of your voices, Kim Mingyu loved you loud enough and you loved him, equally as clear.

#loved this!!!#the insecurities and misunderstandings that happen but then talking them out like adults?#yes gooood #good amounts of angst and cute #mingyu

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toastedqueso-recs · 1 year

Text

control (M)

pairing: Johnny (NCT) + you (reader)

genre: motel from hell; my first ever attempt at horror; smut

word count: 20.9k (there is something very wrong with me)

summary: When a trip with your friends takes an unexpected turn, you end up staying at a motel in the middle of nowhere and what was supposed to be a night of fun becomes a fight for survival.

warnings: strong language; brief marijuana use; heavy violence with blood and major character death; potentially triggering elements that involve obsessive behavior and one instance of harassment; explicit sexual content

a/n: listening to control by halsey; this is a one-shot, there will be no sequels; check the masterlist in my description for other one-shots in this collection; happy reading!

Keep reading

#now THIS...#this was a wild ride #beyond fucked up and i'm here for it #yandere #smut #horror #thriller #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: major character death #johnny

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toastedqueso-recs · 2 years

Text

the soul game [kmg]

summary: when she signs herself up for ‘the soul game’ after being a years-long-user of an application that updates when meeting your soulmate, she didn’t think she’d end up in a reality show of this kind. one of those detailed, drama-filled tv shows that people binge-watch while munching on popcorn and saying how they’d never be like the people on the screen.

but it’s what she has to do. fifteen people were paired up in a house in order to find the person the universe assigned for them as their soulmate. lurking, searching, aching to meet the person that will romantically fulfill her.

though, just as she’s being recorded finding love, her eyes divert towards the producer’s assistant with a hat that covers most of his sweet gaze and suddenly, it feels like she’s the one person out of the fifteen contestants without a soulmate.

what if she’s wrong, though? why would she long to talk to kim mingyu and his backstage persona when he’s not even a contestant to start with? when he’s not soulmate, at all?

perhaps, love is not a linear game.

title: the soul game pairing: kim mingyu x reader genre: soulmate!au (in which you can know if you met your soulmate by updating a dating app) ; producer’s assistant!au ; reality star!au ; app!au ; strangers to friends to enemies to lovers!au ; slowburn prepare yourselves type: fluff ; angst ; humor ; drama ; suggestive ; reality show shenanigans word count: 18,739 words warning: mentions of alcohol, partying, but nothing ever too detailed.

Silhouettes glimmer in the pictures scattered on top of her vanity. Behind said photography lays a description, written in the scribbled font of the casting director that couldn’t give more of a shit to actually jot something important down. She knows there are fifteen contestants, including herself, and that the person behind that silhouette is twenty-five, a little over six feet and he likes Britney Spears’ ‘Oops, I did it again’.

That can only tell so much about a man.

And it’s ridiculous. How she’s going into this blind but so bare at the same time. In the literal and perhaps metaphorical sense of the word. One of those stylish beach kimonos falls off her shoulders, the violet flowers on the black fabric standing out. She had paired the color of the violets to her bathing suit, something that wraps around her waist and goes a little too high up her hips when she sits down and no matter how much she crosses and uncrosses her legs, she still wonders what she is doing here.

“Joan,” She whispers her stylist’s and best friend’s name like she needs reassurance. Damn right she does. When she signed up for a whole dating reality show, she hadn’t thought about the fact that she’d have to go around in a bikini and actually date unknown people who like Britney Spears classics. “Remind me why I’m here again.”

Joan has strands of blonde hair framing her small face, and she blows densely on the air through her pink-dusted lips. “Because you’re one of the few people who actually downloaded that app that no one cares about anymore.”

Fighting her defenses, her head lulls to the side when Joan straightens another piece of her hair for the umpteenth time. “I beg to differ. The Soul Game is actually a very valid application created in 2007, mind you. Lots of people use it to find their soulmate.”

Keep reading

#mingyu #soulmate au #reality show au #*dropsofletters #i love trashy reality shows

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toastedqueso-recs · 2 years

Note

Yandere!Mafia!Jaehyun and Yandere!Mafia!Johnny are rivals and they fight badly over reader.

Closing your eyes for the briefest of moments, you let out a huff from your nose. "Seriously? Again?"

"Hey, at least I'm waiting outside your apartment this time," Johnny smirks, pushing himself off of the wall as you pull out your keys to unlock your front door.

"I fail to see how you still invading my personal space makes this any better," you deadpan as you push open your door.

Strange, you don't remember leaving any lights on when you left to grab groceries.

"Let me help you with those-" Johnny's words die in his throat as he sees an all too familiar man round the corner from your kitchen.

"Oh great, you're home- what is he doing here?" Jaehyun's eyes narrow as he finishes wiping off his hands, the smell of food cooking drifting into the entranceway.

"Funny," Johnny mirrors his expression as the two men stare each other down, "I was about to ask you the same thing."

"How the hell did you get into my apartment this time?" You sigh frustratedly as you kick off your shoes and brush past Jaehyun into your kitchen to place your bags down.

"I used the key you gave me, Darling," he smirks, noticing how rage boils beneath the surface of Johnny's eyes.

"You gave him a key but not me?" Johnny rounds on you as you start to unpack your groceries.

"No," you state firmly. "I did no such thing. I lost a spare key a while ago, which means he probably stole it." You open the fridge, muttering under your breath how you just changed the locks, too.

"Breaking and entering, huh?" Johnny crosses his arms. "Real gentlemanly of you, Jung."

"At least I wasn't lurking outside their front door, Suh," Jaehyun counters, leaning against the wall. "I made them dinner."

"After breaking in to their apartment!" Johnny retorts, taking a menacing step towards Jaehyun.

"I had a key!" Pushing himself off the wall, Jaehyun stands his ground.

"Yeah! Which you stole!" Another step until they're both practically in each other's faces.

"Don't make me call the cops on you-"

"Oh, please, you know the cops won't do shit against us-"

"Enough!" A knife embeds itself in your wall mere centimetres away from both of their faces as they turn to look at you in shock. There you stand, another knife clutched firmly in your hand as a crazed look takes over your eyes. "Leave. The both of you. Before I make you."

See, this is exactly why they both love you.

"Now, why would I do that when I went through all the trouble of making dinner for us, Darling?" Jaehyun smirks at you, and you can see annoyance flash across Johnny's face.

"I never asked you to," you reply, eyes deadly as you meet their gazes. "I'm tired of the two of you thinking you can both just waltz into my life and take whatever you want. I just got this apartment after you both burned down the last one! Just one day! One day I would like peace from your stupid rivalry. Stop treating this like a game where I'm some prize to be won!" Fury doesn't even begin to describe how they both make your blood boil, your voice dropping to a deadly growl. "Now, get out of my house. I'm not going to ask again."

#mafia au #jaehyun #johnny #drabble

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toastedqueso-recs · 2 years

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𑁍 what do you do when you’ve been secretly in love with your best friend for six years and can’t seem to get over him? you overshare online, duh! what do you do when said best friend reads those posts about him online like it’s the morning newspaper? well, let’s see how this big mess plays out.

pairing: juyeon x gn reader genre: social media au, fluff, angst, humor, pining, best friends to lovers, college au warnings: ignore timestamps, loosely based off that stevie wonder song ‘purple raindrops’, swearing, twilight fanboys, they’re a lil immature as always, juyeons priv is @/pussymagic (will be updated as au progresses) status: ongoing - updates every friday taglist: open! send an ask or leave a comment <3

𑁍 PROFILES - twilight cast x britney spears’ circus

𑁍 ONE - daydreaming

𑁍 TWO - fanfiction ban

𑁍 THREE - miss gorl

𑁍 FOUR - this should be enough

𑁍 FIVE - I am THE LAW

𑁍 SIX - push and pull

𑁍 SEVEN - julock holmes has arrived

𑁍 EIGHT - 2 scorpios

𑁍 NINE - research purposes

𑁍 TEN - something different

more parts to be added!

networks: @kshopnet

taglist: @deputyjuyeon @nyujjan @changminurheart @stxrles-nxmss @wooyoung-a @tr330 @moonieric @exfolitae @cybersxn @softyfor-sweaterpaws @lilacdreams-00 @nycol-ie @morauvmi @tsukypoetic @luvrbin @kyufiber @cursedsunoo @sohnkiss @gyuza @pockyandme @mavericsohn @paolennenicole @allorysayshi @nanamioo @changmin-wrlds @erodemyedges @i6swoo @justchuji @enhacolor @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @notbeforelong @blaaiissee @sebongajju @tiryererryy @leejuyeeon @spookyunwon @alilhufflepuff @stealanity @acciomylove @marsophilia @bluecrane01 @milkybonya @justalildumpling @ilovechanhee @stealercore @en-boyz @choielyssa @jumoonielvly @ilvaussie

#juyeon #social media au #best friends to lovers #fic series masterlist #*cloudykyu #ongoing fic series #love the references to britney's circus and twilight lol

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toastedqueso-recs · 2 years

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I love the progression and the way this was written. I loved the continued references to the number of words. Also, the gasp I let out towards the end! 🤭 I'm curious what would happen at the suit fitting (and beyond).

No Time to Blame

A continuation to this. Just thought it had something more to give.

Summary: Three years ago, Jaehyun left to study abroad. Three days before that, you left him. Now he’s back and he wants to know what went wrong.

WC: 3.5k

Warnings: sexual content, smut, oral (female receiving), penetration

♫

It was a battle of self preservation. Where resistance was about more than just about the heart. There was a time when she knew what it was like to stand at the very edge of what was certain self destruction. Where it was easy to confuse the dread of the fall with butterflies in your stomach.

She'd been through it all, the rise and fall that came with falling in love with the man that was Jung Jaehyun. She knew his highs and lows, his burning hot and isolating cold. She knew him better than she knew herself. It was easy when whatever she was disappeared into him like tears in the ocean.

It was a battle of self preservation.

And yet all it took was a simple text, three words where it wasn't even three because the first word was implied. Or maybe it was deliberate on his part; keeping himself out of it in a way she never could.

She was at lunch with Taeil and his future wife, helping them decide on a menu for the rehearsal dinner. Between the talks of roulade versus wellingtons, her phone buzzed on the table.

At first she ignored it because the decision of whether or not to have a seafood option was more pressing. But the menu selection slowly came to a decisive end and she finally picked up her phone, turning it over to look at the message.

At first she thought the crisp message was from Johnny. It was his way of getting a point across: short, to the point and unapologetic. It was one of the many, many things she liked about him.

But the name on top was unmistakable, staring back at her with an audacity that was almost offensive.

He still used his old number, she noted. He probably had it on hand for when he was back. It was three simple words with one implied.

Jaehyun: Need you

She caught herself before she took in a breath too loud, too sharp. Still her soft, unsteady breath was loud enough for Taeil's fiance sitting right beside her. Irene turned with a worried look that turned perplexed when (Y/N) quickly turned her phone over. Irene, she had learned as they got closer over time, was incredibly perceptive. Her eyes wandered to the nervous movement before they came back to her with a look drenched with suspicion.

She quickly shook her head, not rushed enough to sound alarms in the girl's head. As kind and understanding as Irene was, this wasn't her problem. She was a bride to be and somebody else's mess wasn't something she needed. Especially when (Y/N) knew what she would say if she found out. She knew what anybody would say if they ever knew the truth. She knew what Johnny said when Jaehyun told him. And it wasn't something she wanted to hear.

Especially because the moment she looked away, (Y/N) turned her phone over to text back. Four simple words in exchange for his two. With one word implied.

(Y/N): Come over in 40

She put down the phone with a tremble in her fingers that matched the one in her heart. It was just that simple. It always would be. The dread was the only butterflies she ever felt and she had learned to love it like the man they came with. She let out a small sigh into her glass of water, letting the cold liquid ease her parched throat.

It was a battle of self preservation and she had lost.

There wasn't any reason to be nervous. She'd done this countless times before after all. She still had the same old t-shirt that Jaehyun loved, sometimes enough to not take off. The fact that she had tried so desperately to not be the same old person, though, was a thought currently tucked away in the same crevice in his mind where she kept him ever since he left.

Jaehyun never rang the doorbell. Their entire relationship, or the lack thereof, was centered on short text messages and his arrivals were no different. It was always the light ding of her phone and his soft knocks— always four. Those were the two sounds that pulled her out of her thoughts.

Gingerly, she got up from the sofa, his old t-shirt brushing against her legs as she tread silently across her own living room like she was an imposter.

The first she noticed was how comfortably he was dressed. The sweatpants that his legs were clad in were a loud declaration that he was here to stay, robbing her evening and night from her.

"Were you out?" His voice was careful, a stiff edge in it that stemmed from what she realised was him being nervous. It had to be nerves because Jung Jaehyun never lost familiarity with someone. If you knew him once, he would always keep you in his mind at the place he left you last. It was a great trait if you were his friend.

It was terrible for her.

"Yes. Taeil and Irene wanted me to help decide on a menu." She fumbled.

Unlike him, she did lose familiarity with people. People change all the time and not knowing someone for some time could almost be like knowing a completely different person. The edge in her own voice was stiff from not knowing the ground they stood on.

She took the first step, shifting back and opening her door wider to let him in. He put his car keys in the bowl she kept beside the door and discarded his shoes beside hers. Not knowing what to do, she just stood there as he completed the ritual of getting rid of the outside world, shutting it out with the sound of her door by the end of it.

Then he just stood where he was, shifting his weight between his legs and eyeing the space around him. She wasn't sure how the same man who had texted her so audaciously an hour ago now stood at the entrance of her apartment with the nervous disposition of a child on the first day of school. But she had learned a long time ago that nothing about Jung Jaehyun ever made sense.

His eyes stopped wandering, shifting from being lost to something else and she was compelled to turn and follow his gaze.

"You kept the turntable." He sounded, to her, almost touched.

"It's expensive." She mumbled, hesitating for a moment before deciding to be honest. "And it was the only thing I have that's yours." She turned back to him.

Jaehyun looked back to her, eyes going to her torso, to the t-shirt hanging off her shoulders, as if to call out her inaccurate statement. Instead he smiled, taking a step to finally walk into her home.

The familiarity of it all had caught her off guard— an almost silly notion unless you were hoping for it. But as she lay back, their eyes met and the pure rush of desire that spread through every part of her was just like every other time.

Jaehyun stood at the edge of her bed, as silent as her, watching her with a furrow in his brows and a flush on his cheeks. He reached over to lift her leg, propping it on his stomach as he ran his fingers over her skin to earn the coveted goosebumps. When her skin prickled with a gentle shiver from her, he grunted in victory. She would never understand his fondness for it because they always came easily for him. She decided that was why he probably liked it.

"Did you miss me?" He questioned, still transfixed by the bumpy texture of her agitated skin.

It was like him to ask her first. He needed the reassurance before he would volunteer his own vulnerability. That too was familiar to her. She held her tongue against it's will, reminding herself that she didn't need to be the person who gave him what he wanted all the time. The person who was always afraid that not giving in to him meant he wouldn't come back. He'd already abandoned her once, and she survived. She wouldn't walk on eggshells around him anymore.

Jaehyun seemed to catch on to her defiance, eyes moving back to hers. He lifted her leg higher, leaving a soft kiss at her ankle with an unwavering gaze. The rudimentary action made the appendage twitch like it now belonged to him. Or rather, he reclaimed it. It made his eyes glint with a surge of pride, combining with the stray light of the setting sun to make them glow.

He was as beautiful as he always had been.

The realisation hit her like a sharp slap in the face and made her gasp for air. Jung Jaehyun was absolutely breathtaking in a way that could make you angry in reverence. His face was illuminated by the warm gold and pink light of the sun that was cowering back into the horizon in Jaehyun's presence.

The very awareness of his devastating beauty made the dark desire in his eyes dissociative. His want of her was familiar, but so was the unreasonable nature of it.

That too, she told herself, she'd change. Instead of seeing it as an undeserved reward, she'd take his desire as the small hold she had over him.

These changes, she assured herself, would make this time different.

Gripping onto that thought, she dropped her foot from his hold, sliding it down to slip it under his t-shirt.

"Take it off." She told him, raising her toes over his taut stomach and hiking his t-shirt higher.

"You too." He pointed an accusatory finger at her chest.

She sat up just as he reached back to grab his collar, eager to get rid of whatever was necessary to see him.

Without his clothes, Jaehyun was the most familiar to her.

Every touch from Jaehyun was a meaningful one. His every graze, every squeeze was precisely maneuvered. His touch was rationed in a way that made her wonder if he protected them. But each calculated flick, tug, and nudge was enough to make her toes curl in till the bones ached.

Occasionally, he'd sit back to assess, mumbling a quick question with his swollen glistening lips. Each time she nodded, sometimes moaning his name and other times too enraptured to speak.

When her thighs around his neck went stiff, a hand stumbled to his head in an effort to clench her fist into his hair. In turn, he put a hand on her stomach to steady her. The act made her go stiff as she swiftly stumbled over the precipice.

A series of gasps and groans left her lips, body relaxing shortly after. Jaehyun sat back, eyes glinting with victory. He licked his lips clean, standing up to discard his pants by crouching over.

"How did it feel?" He asked, voice deep and hushed.

"Incredible." She said after a few short gasps.

"Want to feel me?" He asked, standing up after his pants were thrown to the side.

Keeping her gaze from wandering was impossible, she gave him a nod that was quick and without a spare thought. Jaehyun's lips twitched, one corner curling up in what looked to her like a strained smile.

"I missed you more than I thought I would." He admitted, eyes boring into hers. "There were many days when you were the last thing I thought of before sleeping and the first thing I thought of when I woke up." He took a step forward, leaning over to crawl up to her. "Those days were tough." His breath travelled her skin as he came face to face with her. "When I got the invitation, my first thought was that I could see you."

There was a softening of his features, a wash of frank openness in his eyes. "I missed you, (Y/N)."

"Don't." Her whisper was spat harshly. "Just don't talk about this, I don't want to think right now." She urged, tugging at his shoulder. He looked at her delicately, a colour of sorrow passing his eyes before he nodded in quick acceptance. Slowly, he sank his head into her neck.

He kept his word, going through the motions thereafter with only precisely maneuvered words. His every whisper, every groan only meant to please.

For all his confessions of grandeur about being a selfish person, Jung Jaehyun was a pleaser. He always surveyed a crowd before saying anything, listening and assessing all the ways he could gain the most agreement. Jaehyun valued being the sound person in any room, the one who doesn't have too much to say but adds value when he does it. He painstakingly carved actions out of the need to keep on in his path least resistance. It was his way to get out of any situation with the least loss incurred. It was his way of keeping the world at arm's length.

But through his efforts, he came to be the person who would end up putting too much effort into every interaction. He always did the right thing, always pulled the chair out for someone, took whatever actions were necessary, always had the right things to say and do.

And that's why she didn't need him to say anything. It was a mirage and she knew better. She knew better because she knew what the worst was.

And yet every word he uttered, graze he left, were enough to make her feel like she'd been cut open with surgical precision. Jaehyun kissed parts of her skin that he knew would make her grab at him in desperation. He'd compare each attempt to the last till he was satisfied that she'd reached her threshold. Then he'd slowly sink inside her and repeat the same process. It left her thoughtless and clawing at his otherwise pristine back.

He matched every plea with tender reassurances and a promise that he won't stop making her feel so damn good. And he'd keep doing it till his own carefully masoned resistance was chipped thin from her growing shivers and more whimpered pleas.

She wondered at times if he played a game with himself to pretend he wouldn't give in. That he would peel her apart but she wouldn't get her pound of flesh in return. So he would just keep going till he let go at his own pace. Slowly, he inspected each part of her and she wondered if this time too his job of sewing her back together would be patchy.

She conceded to it because this was so dreadfully her own. It was her exact thoughts he whispered back to her, her every move studied for her pleasure, and it was her Jaehyun.

It was also her turn to take her pound of flesh. And this was probably why, of all her laments of being jilted, she was also equally selfish.

"Jaehyun." She sighed when her legs began to tremble. "Look at me." It was a candid demand. He lifted his head from between her shoulder, looking into her eyes with a blown out, dark gaze so laced with desire that she groaned.

A rushed hum left his lips, deep from his chest with a question hanging at the end. She lifted her hand to his face before she could think better of it, placing her palm on the expanse of his cheek and trying her best to keep her eyes on his.

Pleasure coursed through her nerves and threatened to burst but she held her ground to take his face in.

"I love you." She groaned, the words like a burden off her chest more than an anticipated confession. A burden she had for so long that she had forgotten what it was like to live without it. "So, so very much." Tears prickled in the corner of her eyes and she blinked them away angrily to keep her view of him clear, watching the swirl of thoughts streaming through his eyes hungrily. "And you just have to live with that now. The way I have for all these years." Her words would sound like a taunt but they got lost in a moan as her orgasm finally clashed through her. Her eyes closed and she missed the look in his eyes she was waiting to see.

She fell asleep knowing he'd be there when she woke up. Jaehyun never snuck out because he knew he didn't have to. She knew what they were without the need for such gestures.

The first sight he caught was the glimpse at the dark sky in the window behind the looming figure in front of her. As she slowly recovered from her deep sleep, she noted that Jaehyun's eyes were wide open. There was something fragile in his gaze, making her stir and stare at the ceiling instead.

"I haven't had a midday nap like that in a while." She told him, easing the taut silence between them with words. "I feel like the headache I had for a year is gone."

A short snort came from him at the statement, his arm coming over her soon after to draw him into his embrace. He swung a leg over her own and dropped the weight of half his body onto her side. When she squirmed, he left a wide mouthed kiss beside her ear.

"Maybe it's just me." He mumbled against her ear, the vibrations making the hairs on her arm rise with a shiver.

Her lips twitched, "I didn't know you majored in painkiller." She turned just enough to catch his gaze, buried between her neck and shoulder. He ran his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes glinting.

"I'm known for my many talents." He pursed his lips, neck dusting pink.

"So you say." She clicked her tongue, turning over before she could catch his reaction. Her phone rang on the nightstand, the loud vibration a hindrance in the otherwise silent room.

(Y/N) reached over to her phone, smile stirring when she saw the name flashing on the screen. She sat up, the cool air comfortable against her warmed skin, to answer the call.

"What's up?" Johnny's smooth voice came through the other line.

"Uh," She answered awkwardly, eyes drifting to Jaehyun who watched her with deductive eyes. "Just enjoying a lazy weekend, I guess." She tried to laugh off the clumsy edge in her tone. "What's up with you?" She questioned, turning away to avoid the burning gaze of the man in her bed.

"Just wanted to remind you that the suit fitting is tomorrow. Please tell me you haven't forgotten." He questioned, sighing when there was a short silence after.

She bit her lip, pinching the bridge of her nose with a sigh of her own.

"Of course I haven't forgotten," She lied. "I'll be there."

Johnny hummed like he didn't believe her, before a drawn out silence made her ears perk.

"So," He sighed loudly, humming to himself for a moment before smacking his lips loudly, "I invited Jaehyun to come along. Since he needs a suit for the wedding too." He confessed sheepishly. Johnny, as she had expected, had been swift to forgive his best friend. At the very least, she accepted, he put up a convincing act of it. "Will that be a deal breaker for you?" He asked with a wince.

She blinked, surprised by the hesitation in his voice. She turned back to look at Jaehyun, who had picked up his phone to check it. His idle fingers told her that he was listening to her.

"No it's not. It's fine if he comes." She told Johnny, a burst of guilt raking through her. Another pause hung between them, this one somehow making her nervous.

"He doesn't have to know about us." The words were finally spat out, "It's not like we're a thing. We can save ourselves the headache." He rushed through the words, voicing the dilemma she'd been stuck with since she saw Jaehyun again.

"It's none of his business." She simply stated, hearing Johnny's short scoff.

"I can almost believe the disdain in your voice." He scoffed again, words distinctly bitter.

She turned back once he hung up, meeting Jaehyun's waiting gaze.

"It was Johnny." She pointed at her phone, debating for a moment before giving in and returning to bed.

"He was talking about me?" His question was rhetorical, having no response when she nodded.

"He wanted to tell me you were coming for the suit fitting tomorrow." She threw the comforter over her with a soft sigh.

"That's very thoughtful of him." Jaehyun hummed.

She turned over, putting her arm under her head and watching him, "He is a very thoughtful man."

The words made Jaehyun turn to her for a short, deliberating look before turning away, more contemplation settling into his eyes. Then he nodded in agreement, shifting to bring her back in his hold.

#jaehyun #smut #angst #*kaepop-trash

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