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hazyhae · 5 months

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strawberry cough | njm

strangers to fwb to lovers w/ plug!jaemin ft. bestie shotaro

summary: when your longtime bestie and plug moves out of town, he recommends one of his buddies to fill your weed needs. jaemin is glad to deliver that and maybe even more.

pt. 2 here

wc: 9.1k 18+ mdni

cw: weed/marijuana use, sex under the influence of weed, protected/unprotected penetrative sex, oral, 69, shotgunning, soft dom!jaemin, some angst & misunderstandings, jealous reader and jaemin, comforting from jaemin, jaemin calls reader baby & angel, gn!afab!reader, he has a pull out couch, strawberry cough is an actual weed strain i recommend it :)

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shotaro calls your name, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“his name is jaemin and we have the same supplier, I’ll even ask him to give you a discount!”

your best friend was moving to another town across the country for work and you can’t help but tear up at the thought of being so far from the sweet boy. you met back in your teens and had been glued at the hip since.

somewhere over the course of your friendship, shotaro started to dabble in weed, teaching you almost everything you know about the substance and eventually becoming your plug and smoking buddy. with shotaro gone, it might be difficult finding someone who not only you can trust but also knows your weed needs like the back of their hand.

you blink at the new name, trying to remember what he was talking about, and recall something along the lines of finding you a new plug.

“i’d definitely recommend him, i’d say he’s second best to me in town, and i can trust him around you,” shotaro jokes with you, keeping it lighthearted.

you know behind the joking, your friend is doing his best to look out for you despite going through a stressful time himself. you don’t want to make this move any harder for him than it already is, so you agree with a smile.

“i’ll give him a chance, just give me his number and we’ll go from there.”

he meets your smile with his own.

“trust me, he’ll take good care of you.”

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a couple of weeks after shotaro’s move, you decide its finally time to text your potential new plug. after finding his contact buried in your messages, you text jaemin, setting up a meeting time to pick up some goods, planning on buying an eighth and some gummies.

surprisingly, he asks if you want to check out his strains when you get there, wanting you to actually see all he has to offer before buying.

his customer service impresses you, realizing that you just assumed he would be as casual as shotaro and any other plug you’ve gone to. most of the time they would just ask you what you want, give you your order, and you’d be on your way. seeing the whole collection would definitely be good if you plan to go to him long-term.

while you’re a little hesitant at the thought of entering his apartment, you feel better given how shotaro talked your ear off on how good jaemin was, both as a friend and fellow plug.

a 20-minute walk from your place leads you to the address he sent, and you triple-check your phone to make sure you’re at the right apartment. when you finally ring the doorbell, you hear some rushed footsteps and the door opens to a sight you were not expecting.

your eyes move up to see a tall man with dark hair, broad shoulders, and one of the prettiest smiles you’ve ever seen.

“hi, you’re __? taro’s friend, right?”

you nod, exchanging introductions, and he gives you a tight handshake, not breaking eye contact.

“come on in! i’ve laid out everything so you can pick what you want. let me know if you have any questions.” he flashes another smile, and you can’t help but smile back at his welcoming attitude. besides shotaro, other plugs you have gone to never exchanged more than a few words with you, but they also didn’t have a smile like jaemin’s. actually, no one you’ve ever met had a smile like that.

you take a look around his apartment, noting how well kept it was, with minimal but tasteful decor. you were already a little nervous, but staring at the back of the attractive man leading you to his kitchen in his perfect apartment has your heart speeding up.

he shows you his collection, which you note to be on the same level as shotaro’s. you remember how your stash of your favorite strain ran out the week before, and knowing they have the same supplier, you look around his extensive collection for a familiar logo.

“do you have anymore strawberry cough? that’s my go-to.”

his expression falters slightly, but he recovers quickly and answers your question.

“i’m out of stock right now, but if you come back next week i should definitely have it in.”

nodding in understanding, you pick up a small pack of orange gummies, deciding on taking a break from smoking until your next visit. he packs up your gummies and leads you back to the entrance of his apartment, but when you reach into your bag to pull out your wallet he stops you.

“it’s on the house.” he insists, flashing you another one of his dazzling smiles. his smile makes it almost too hard to argue.

“oh no, i can’t do that to you,” you respond and resume your task of grabbing your wallet. you stop at the feeling of a warm hand on your shoulder.

“let’s just say it’s a first time customer deal, okay?” his strong gaze stills you.

“it’s not every day I get a customer as cute as you,” he says with a grin and a look in his eyes you can’t quite figure out. it does a good job of shutting you up, and you feel your face heat up. the place where his hand meets your shoulder feels like it’s burning.

you don’t know how to respond and he chuckles at your flustered expression. he places the gummies in your hands, and opens the door for you.

“make sure you come back next week, i’ll be waiting for your text!” you nod and quietly respond with your thanks and goodbye as you walk out into the hallway. he waits until you’re at the elevator, waving to you as the elevator doors close.

immediately you’re clutching your burning face in your hands, and his words replay in your head until you go to sleep that night.

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while the interaction with your new plug lingers in your mind for a while, you are quick to try and dismiss jaemin’s flirting as his way of charming customers and nothing more. shotaro did say he would ask him to give you a discount, so maybe it’s safe to assume that freebie was a favor for your mutual friend.

the next week, you’re surprised to see a text from jaemin letting you know that your favorite was in stock. you had debated in your mind on when to text him, but it’s a pleasant surprise that he texted you first. you agree to come after work, and your second visit to him is not as nerve-wracking as the first, though his closing remarks from the first visit still ring in your brain.

you wave those thoughts off again as he meets you at the door.

“hello my strawberry cough lover!” he greets you happily.

lover. you freeze at the word. you pause for a few seconds, jaemin confused at your lack of response when you realize he’s referring to your love for the product. you totally missed that. he was not calling you his lover.

“hi jaemin,” you sheepishly reply, internally scolding yourself for those thoughts.

you expect him to collect your payment, give you your bag, and send you on your way. but something you’ve begun to learn in the short time you’ve known him is that he is always full of surprises.

he invites you in and you see your order sitting on his kitchen table. your eyebrow raises when he pulls out another bag of what you recognize as strawberry cough from the label.

“do you have any plans today?” he asks.

it’s about 6pm and your only plans included smoking the goods you would be getting from jaemin, so nothing’s booked. “i’m free, what’s up?”

“it’s actually been a while since i’ve smoked or sold this strain, so i wanted to ask if you’d want to smoke with me? it’ll be on the house of course, but you totally don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable” he actually looks a little nervous asking, which you find endearing.

“sure, sounds fun,” you agree, once again taking into consideration shotaro’s ramblings about jaemin. you would never pass up the opportunity for free weed with a potential new friend. friend.

he brightens, sitting you down on his living room sofa and running to get his smoking materials together.

“pipe or joint?” he asks. you reply with the latter and he gets to rolling.

you watch as he expertly grinds and packs the green leaves into the wrapping paper, licking the edge to seal it and pinching the end shut.

you can’t deny that it’s probably one of the most attractive things you’ve ever seen a man do. you’ve seen many of your friends roll before, but something about the way jaemin uses his hands (and mouth) has you almost drooling.

he offers you the first hit, and you place the joint between your lips. he lights it as you inhale slightly, keeping his hand steady to catch any ash from falling on you.

while his earlier display had your body reacting, his gentlemanly behavior hit you right in the heart. you take two hits and hand it back to him, watching him take his own.

“how did you meet shotaro?” he asks, making conversation, and you are more than happy to explain how he accidentally hit you with a basketball during your second year of high school. you feel your body start to lighten and your mind fuzz.

“he couldn’t stop apologizing, going on and on about taking me to the hospital,” you’re trying to tell him through your giggles and before you know it, full laughter leaves you at the thought of your friend.

he looks at you with dazed eyes and a dopey smile, laughing along with you, starting to recount his own memories of your shared friend.

conversation seems to just flow naturally between the two of you. with each time the joint is passed back and forth, you learn another piece of information about the man in front if you, and vice versa. it’s comfortable.

at some point, you are both pretty settled into your highs, melted into the couch watching some random movie.

you look over at jaemin, and he looks more handsome and cozy than you remember a couple hours ago. he was within arms length, and if you wanted to, you could just reach over and-

“__, are you okay?” jaemin’s call of your name snaps you out of your thoughts.

embarrassed by your staring and what just went through your head, you try to keep it as cool as possible, but you know that your thoughts are threatening to seep out.

“yeah, i’m good, just thinking of heading out soon since it’s getting pretty late,” you assure him. at this point, a few hours had passed since you arrived and it was safe to say you needed to go home and cool your head before you said or did anything you’d regret.

he nods in understanding and tells you he will be right back. you’re not too sure what he’s up to, but he comes back quickly wearing a hoodie and helps you to your feet with a gentle hand. he picks up your order from the kitchen, and walking to the front door he grabs his keys and starts to put his shoes on.

“are you heading somewhere, too?” you ask, and he looks at you blankly.

“i’m walking you home?” he states as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. you told him somewhere along the line that you lived close by, but you didn’t expect this.

“jaemin, you don’t have to, it’s only 20 minutes,” you try to assure him.

you know that it isn’t the safest to walk by yourself at this time of the night, but you don’t want to trouble him.

“i do have to, and i want to.” you know he’s really made his mind up, seeing his serious expression, so you give up any further argument at his response.

your thoughts tell you he’s just being a good friend, but your heart hopes its something more.

the two of you walk back in a comfortable silence, jaemin with your order in hand. he walks you to the front of your apartment building, handing you your bag once you arrive.

“i had a lot of fun today, hope we can do this again sometime,” he says with that same look he had when he gave you your first freebies.

“same here, i think that would be really nice,” you respond, internally celebrating that he enjoyed your time together just as much as you did.

his normal dopey grin comes back at that, and he bids you a good night, waiting until you are inside your building to start his walk home.

only when you get back to your room do you realize you forgot to pay him.

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over the next few months, you find that jaemin never lets you pay. he’s officially become your plug and smoking buddy. you never stop protesting and offering to pay, but in that time you’ve also gotten to know how stubborn he is.

“friends get free shit.” he shrugs, as if it’s just common sense.

friends. the word stings a bit. you’ve come to learn that his charms extended so far beyond what was offered to customers. so much so that you’ve come to want more than friendship.

but again, you also don’t want to ruin what you’ve got growing and make him uncomfortable. this has to be a platonic experience for him, right?

that’s what you tell yourself, keeping your hopes at bay. you don’t want to risk anything.

on a particularly stressful work day, you come to pick up your usual order when he notices something is off. he frowns seeing you so tired and noticeably upset, immediately leading you inside with his hand gently resting on your back.

“what’s wrong?” he asks feeling your forehead for any sign of a fever. you’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with him over your time together, closing your eyes at his touch.

“nothing, just a tough day at work,” you murmur, just wanting to get your order and go home to lie in bed. a harsh argument with your manager today left you feeling frustration bubbling in your throat with no way to let it out.

“i know something that might help?” he offers. he brings you straight to your usual spot on the couch, and goes to the kitchen, returning with a familiar decorated bag.

“you didn’t,” gasping as he starts to lay its contents out on the table.

the bag included your go to order from your favorite fast food place, complete with a strawberry smoothie.

“i didn’t expect that it would be a perfect day to do this, but i’m glad i did.”

your eyes start to sting.

his kindness is coming at a moment you needed it most. he’s always been kind, and that has not changed at all since the day you met him. tears start to fall.

“wait, did i mess up your order??” his eyebrows furrow and he starts to get up, scanning the food on the table.

you shake your head, grabbing his arm to pull him back into sitting.

“no, just thank you, thank you so much jaemin.” you’re trying to compose yourself, but the same warm hand you’ve come to know and love starts to rub circles into your shoulder, making you cry more.

you lean into him, letting yourself let go of your frustrations of the day. jaemin encourages you to talk, wrapping his arm completely around you and whispering sweet affirmations in response to your worries.

after what feels like forever passes by, you find yourself relaxed in his arms with his head resting on yours.

“thank you and i’m sorry jaemin, i know that was a lot,” you say as you turn your head to look at him, realizing how close the two of you were.

he leans back, still with an arm around you. “i’m gonna pretend i only heard that first part. you’re never too much and you don’t have to be sorry about letting your emotions out. not with me.”

you really don’t understand how he’s telling you exactly what you need to hear.

at this point, the feeling slowly blooming over the past few months has really has made itself clearer than ever to you.

you like him. you like him so much.

you whisper your thanks again, and he shushes you, with his eyes moving down to your lips.

“you’re welcome, now let’s smoke a little?” he asks quietly, and you nod, figuring you would appreciate the relaxation of your body and hopefully, your heart as well.

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jaemin lets you use his facewash and a towel to freshen yourself up after crying, and has a pipe freshly packed for when you come back.

after your usual passing back and forth, you’re melted into the couch watching tv yet again. jaemin has his arm wrapped around you just similar to how he did at your earlier cry session, but this time his hand is around your waist, rubbing absentmindedly.

you don’t mind at all, pressed into his side as you both watch a cute cat cartoon. you look up at him, staring at his lips as thoughts start to sprout. you’ve noticed his obsession with wearing lip balm, and it’s really paid off. they look so soft and you can’t help but imagine what they’d feel like against yours.

he doesn’t lean away this time when he notices your gaze, looking into your eyes with his own hooded ones. you don’t know if it’s the weed giving your thoughts life, but your voice is leaving you before you know it.

“can i kiss you?”

you gasp after realizing what you’ve said, moving to get up, but his arm wraps tighter around you, stopping you from separating yourself from him. staring down at you with lidded eyes, he closes the distance between the two of you.

his lips are even softer than anything you’ve imagined.

his pecks turn into full kisses, and it’s only a matter of time before things turn more heated, jaemin slipping in his tongue to meet yours. the two of you kiss for what feels like forever, getting lost in the haze.

your mouth chases his as he starts to pull back, and he smiles against your lips. he fully pulls back look at you, and leans in to pepper soft kisses on your neck.

“you are toooo cute.” he mumbles against your neck, and his warm breath gives you goosebumps.

“do you want me?” he asks, and you are speechless. you’ve been wanting him, thinking of him while sober and not so sober. you’ve dreamed about this, yet now that he’s offering himself on a silver platter all you can do is nod. he slightly tightens his hold on your waist.

“words, baby.”

your embarrassed face presses into the top of his head as he continues to lay kisses down your throat. you can only hope that this is not just a really, really good dream.

“i want you, jaemin. so bad.”

immediately you are pushed onto your back on the couch, jaemin’s lips back on yours and your hands threading through his hair.

he slots himself in between your legs, grinding into you slowly as your hips jump up to meet his. he begins to kiss a trail from your throat down to your stomach, his warm hands finding their way under your shirt and sweatpants to meet your bare hips.

“can i take these off?” he punctuates his question with a snap of your waistband.

“please,” you reply, feeling yourself begin to ache, but suddenly jaemin remembers something.

you look at him confused as he gets up, reaching around to two handles at the bottom of the couch. he pulls the handles, and you are met with a whole new couch section.

“you’re telling me it was a pull-out couch this whole time??” you complain. your nights with him were comfortable, but the extra couch space to sprawl out changes everything.

“hey, it’s usually just me on this couch and i have more than enough room, so i kinda just forgot okay?” he pouts as he returns to his task, pulling your sweatpants off of you.

you start to laugh until you feel his warm breath on your underwear. the sight of him looking at you from between your legs is something straight out of a wet dream, and you’re pleading.

“please jaemin..”

“please what, angel?”

you clench at the new nickname. you crave nothing more than for him to bury himself between your legs.

“please touch me.”

he pushes your underwear aside, and dives right in. you gasp at the feeling, feeling the wind knocked out of you as your hands immediately meet his head.

he groans at the feeling of you alternating between pushing his head deeper and tugging at his hair. the vibrations send chills down your spine, and your moans increase in volume as he lays sloppy kisses over your bud, eventually sucking it between his soft lips.

if you thought his lips felt heavenly on yours earlier, his lips on your most intimate parts takes it to a higher dimension. at some point, he slips your underwear completely off, getting right back into action.

he doesn’t let up, slipping his middle and ring fingers into your entrance, slowly thrusting in and out.

you feel the tension build in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter until a curl of his fingers sends you over the edge with a strangled moan. he works you through your orgasm, laying a final kiss before making his way back up your body at the feeling of your hands pushing his head away from your core.

“are you okay, angel?” you look at his smiling face, his beautiful lips covered in a wet sheen. if this is a dream, you don’t ever want to wake up. something hard and hot at your thigh snaps you out of your admiration.

“i’m perfect, jaem, but how about you?” you ask as you catch your breath, shifting your thigh against his bulge.

this catches him off guard and a deep groan leaves him. it’s music to your ears and you want to hear it again and again.

“let me ride you jaemin. please,” you present the idea to him and he brightens up, only to pull a worried expression.

“are you sure it’s okay? do you have enough energy?” he’s still the same jaemin you’ve come to appreciate, always wanting you to be comfortable. you just want to make him feel good, too.

“of course jaemin, i wouldn’t offer if i didn’t want to.” the worried expression leaves at your words as he takes off his pants and underwear. you pause as he reaches under the couch and pulls out a condom that he rolls onto his aching member.

“is there any other surprises this couch has?” you ask jokingly.

he laughs and he helps you up into straddling him as he leans against the back of the couch.

you grind on him as he softly pecks at your neck, feeling the vibrations of his low groans on your skin. you raise yourself and begin to lower yourself onto him, hissing at the stretch of his cock inching into your entrance.

“fuck, so fucking tight,” he groans as he bottoms out inch by inch, helping by pushing his hips up to meet yours. you moan at the feeling, with no one you’ve ever hooked up with being as thick as jaemin.

you bounce slowly, and you build a steady rhythm as you shut your eyes at the almost euphoric feeling. the combination of his cock reaching far deep into you and the weed coursing through your system has your entire body tingling. you open your eyes to peek at jaemin, who looks to be going through the same thing.

his brows are furrowed, and he’s letting out delicious groans with each bounce. he slowly opens his eyes to meet yours, and like magnets your lips meet.

“you feel so good, angel, so fucking good,” he murmurs against your lips. his hands move from your hips to your ass and he plants his feet into the couch.

a harsh thrust has you clinging onto him for dear life as he starts to piston into you, chasing your highs.

the two of your moans fill his living room as he speeds up, hitting you deeper and deeper until you’re reaching another mind numbing orgasm. your pulsing sends jaemin over the edge, and he pulls out, pulling the condom off to finish himself over his own stomach.

you plop onto your side, too tired to hold yourself up as you detach yourself from jaemin. you feel the weight of the couch shift and start to drift off until jaemin shakes you gently.

“sleep over? you can borrow some clothes and we can finish that movie.” you’re way too tired to think about going home and don’t have to work until tomorrow afternoon, so you’re quick to mutter a sleepy “okay.”

he gives you a hoodie and some pajama pants, and he goes back to his room to change his own clothes.

coming back to the sight of you in his hoodie, jaemin smiles to himself before sliding in with you to retire for the night.

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you are surprised to see that first night did not sour your growing friendship at all. movie nights and order pickups still continued, but the two of you fall into a different kind of routine. weed was slowly pushed from the center relationship. yes, he would have you over to smoke you out, but more and more you find that you get lost in conversation or a show before you can even take one puff.

either way, half the time you ended up finding yourself under him, or him under you. afterwards he lets you sleep over or walks you home after a short nap, depending on the time and if you have work.

while you’re glad nothing got awkward, you couldn’t help but feel disappointment from your growing desire to be more to him. to have more of him. all of him.

it always was some combination of talking, eating, smoking, sleeping, or fucking with jaemin, but the two of you never talked about what your relationship was. you’ve become comfortable with your arrangement, being willing to put aside the pangs in your chest to continue these nights with him.

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“he got you, didn’t he..” shotaro teases over the video call, catching up on the past few months since his move. he zeroed in on the numerous times you mentioned his recommended plug, knowing the charming nature of his friend.

“why are you saying that like you knew it would happen??” you bite back at his teasing, and he quickly clarifies.

“no, no, i was genuinely just introducing him to you as a plug, but i’ve known the dude for a while. he’s a great host, a great friend and overall, he’s a reeaaally great guy. if something happens, i approve.”

he’s echoing a similar jaemin spiel to the ones he went on before you met the man, but you can’t help but agree now that you know him just as well.

“i know, i know, but let’s talk about something other than jaemin.” you haven’t talked to taro in a while, and you didn’t want to spend your whole call recalling how well jaemin’s treated you. the more you think about it, feelings of uncertainty in the nature of your relationship also follow.

“okay, well anyways, i’ve been into this really cool new strain. they call it strawberry shortcake and it’s just crazy, you need to try it.” before you can respond, taro cuts in.

“you might need to get it somewhere else, though, let me see if another of my buddies around there has it.” you haven’t gone to any other plugs since you met jaemin, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to start now.

“don’t you think i can just get it from jaemin? he’d probably want to try.” he gives you a perplexed stare in response.

“i don’t think so, jaemin hates strawberries. i’m surprised that hasn’t come up at all?” the news from taro leaves you shocked.

you recall how jaemin didn’t have your beloved strawberry cough in stock when you first met him, but since then he’s never ran out. he could have just said from the beginning that he doesn’t carry it in stock.

was he buying it just for you? is he smoking what you like even if he doesn’t? if he is, what does that mean? the thoughts threaten to send your mind spiraling.

you try to push them aside to continue your chat.

once you finish your conversation with your friend and head to bed, you fight against a hopeful little voice in your head telling you that jaemin might just feel the same way as you.

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the next day, you initiate plans with jaemin, wanting to finish up a show the two of you started. he lets you know you can come over that evening after some customers leave, assuring you they won’t take long.

you head over to his place, heading up the elevator. you’ve never seen any of jaemin’s neighbors before, so you’re surprised when the doors open to a gorgeous girl. her hair is a slight mess, but she works it.

she offers a polite “excuse me” before going into the elevator to head down. as you pass her, you get a whiff of something very familiar.

fresh herbs, florals, and something.. sweet? you ponder on the scent on the short walk down the hall to jaemin’s. he opens the door with the same smile as always, and leads you inside when you smell it.

the same scent you smelled at the elevator.

strawberry cough.

“did you get started without me?” you try to keep a light hearted tone, trying to pry as much as you can without giving your suspicisons away.

“just a bit, a customer came by earlier and wanted to try out some of my stash, but they didn’t want to smoke alone so i had a hit or two.” he smiles innocently. your eyes move to the tv to see the show you were planning to watch already playing on the screen. your heart sinks.

jaemin is a really good guy. he’s so special to you and you feel like slowly but surely you’ve become just as special to him.

when you sit down, you ask him to put on a different movie, wanting to continue the show another time. you can’t seem to focus and the joint passed to you tastes a little more bitter than usual. your thoughts fester.

jaemin is a really good guy, but he is good to everyone. he’s so special to you, but you’re not sure anymore if you have even began to brush the surface of being anything more than a good friend.

even if you’re sleeping together, you weren’t exclusive, and it’s not like you’re the only one he watches shows with or his only smoking buddy, either.

neither of you ever moved to define what went on between you two, and that little voice from last night is telling you now that maybe there just wasn’t anything in need of defining in the first place.

you finish the movie with minimal conversation and ask him to walk you home, citing your change in demeanor to a long, tiring day.

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wanting to sort out your feelings, you decide you need a break from your regular visits, but 1 week of excuses and avoiding his invitations quickly turns into 3.

“shit.” you check your weed jar to find your strawberry cough stash running dangerously low. gnawing at your lip, you still can’t find it in you to reach out to jaemin, even if its just as a customer.

you’ve wanted to go back every time he’s invited you, but since the day you concluded that nothing actually special was going on between you two, you don’t know if you can act normal. you don’t know if you could lay under him, looking into his deep brown eyes and not tell him you are probably madly in love with him.

you needed some time to cool your feelings off. you’d be back after you sort it out, and everything would hopefully go back to the way it was.

you head to work and put your thoughts aside for now, actually grateful that there’s a line of customers to keep your mind busy. when it slows down a bit, you see a familiar face of a boy with rose gold hair.

yangyang was a friend you met through shotaro, seeing him in a lot of blunt rotations you’ve been in at shotaro’s functions.

“hey, yangyang! how are you?” you ask cheerily.

he’a quick to return your greeting, always being a pretty chill person to see even if you don’t know each other too well.

“not too bad, just running some errands. heading to my plug later, how are you?”

a lightbulb turns on in your head at his plans. the answer to your dilemma has arrived.

“better now, could i ask you a favor actually?”

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jaemin hears his doorbell ring, but he’s slow to get the door. he knows it’s not you, so what’s the rush? he grabs his customer’s order from his kitchen table and heads over.

even though he knows it isn’t you, a part of him wishes it was. he hasn’t seen you in 3 weeks, and it’s driving him crazy. you’ve just rejected another invitation to finish up that show you started, and he’s lost count now of how many times that’s happened.

he knows you’re busy, but he can also sense that something is off. he’s been scouring his memories for anything he could have done to upset you for the past week or so, but he can’t come up with anything.

he tries to assure himself that it’s just a schedule thing, nothing personal. he’s gotten used to your smoking habits, and he knows you’ll be running low soon.

it’s only a matter of time until you need to come see him, right? he can only hope that you want to.

he opens his door to see yangyang, one of his regular customers. he’s expecting a quick transaction, not really in the mood for small talk.

“hey yangyang, everything’s here.” jaemin hands yangyang the bag.

“hey, thanks. really quick though, can i add on an eighth of strawberry cough if you have any?” yangyang asks.

“i might, you trying something new?” jaemin responds, interest piqued at the familiar strain.

“nah, picking up some for a friend,” yangyang responds. jaemin’s eyes narrow slightly.

yangyang usually gets the same few things in rotation every time, but he’s never once asked for strawberry cough. jaemin wouldn’t think anything of it usually, but he’s a little sensitive at the mention of your favorite.

“oh, do i know them? maybe a potential new customer?” jaemin tries to disguise his prying as a new opportunity for him as a plug, but he’s just hoping the bad feeling in his gut isn’t true.

“it’s for my friend ___, they asked me to pick some up. do you know them?” his heart drops at the mention of your name.

jaemin goes silent for a second.

“..gotcha, i think i’m actually out right now but i’ll let you know when i have some back in stock.” jaemin lies, knowing he has a couple bags left, but there’s a bitter feeling making his stomach turn.

yangyang shrugs and says he’ll let you know, and then he’s on his way.

shutting the door with a heavy sigh, he goes to lay on his couch, which he’s had in its full pulled out state since the first night you slept together.

he remembers your dazed, glossy eyes, soft lips, and the way you lean into him. he remembers the way you look when he’s got you pressed into his cushions.

he hasn’t heard your voice in so long, the sweet sound of your laugh. he misses you.

jaemin picks up his phone.

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when you get his call, you’re lying in bed already. it’s 7pm on a friday night, and you are spending it moping around instead of going out with your friends.

you miss jaemin, his apartment, his smile, the way he’d spoil you in so many ways, everything. you’d rather be laying on that couch right now, but you know you shouldn’t.

it’s just as you start to push jaemin out of your brain that your phone starts ringing with that familiar caller id. his picture pops up, a cute one you took of him in his bedroom after a smoke sesh awhile back.

caught off guard, you end up picking it up right away, and the voice you’ve missed so badly sends waves through the speakers.

“hi, angel, are you free this weekend?”

that nickname with his deep voice is already undoing any “cooling off” you’ve done in the time apart from him.

“i’m not sure yet, what’s up?“ your voice comes out clear despite your nerves.

“i know you’ve been busy, but i thought you might be running a little low on your stash, can i come by to drop some off?” he offers.

your first instinct is to make up an excuse because you honestly aren’t prepared to see him, but you feel like you’ve made enough excuses by now. you’ve missed the sound of his voice and hearing it over the phone is your breaking point.

as much as you’ve tried to push aside your growing feelings, it’s only fair to both you and him if you finally lay down your boundaries.

“actually jaem, if you’re still free tonight, can we finish that show?”

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even though he insisted on picking you up, you decide you need the 20 minute walk to jaemin’s to calm yourself. your head is full of so many “what if’s,” and in no time you find yourself in front of his building. you see a familiar head of dark hair standing outside.

“there you are, angel,” he says as soon as you are in his sight, and he brings you into a tight hug. you immediately relax into his hold, not realizing how much your body missed his familiar touch.

“i-“ you start, but he shushes you.

“it’s cold out here, let’s go upstairs.”

he takes you up to his apartment, and you’re happy to see it’s still as comfy as you remember. he’s got the heater on, and it feels good on your cold face. he seats you on his couch as he always has, rubbing your arms up and down to get rid of the last bit of outside chill.

“what have you been up to? it’s been so long since i’ve seen your face, baby.”

while it isn’t new for him to be this cuddly, it’s usually later into your nights together. you remind yourself your intention for tonight, and you decide you need to get this over with.

you separate yourself from him, putting some space between you.

“i’ve been okay, jaem. but i came because i really need to talk to you.” he waits for you to continue, anxiety growing at your somber expression.

“i don’t think i’ll be able to come around anymore.”

jaemin frowns deeply. “i mean, it’s already been a while since you were over, even if you’re busy i don’t mind waiting, it’s no pressure at all?”

“no, i don’t mean that. i just don’t think i can stay in this sort of relationship with you anymore.” you are dancing around what you want to say, but it’s just so hard to get it out.

his heart sinks.

“because there’s someone else around?” you jump at jaemin’s voice, which has lowered at your words.

“what?”

he runs his hand through his hair frustratedly. it’s the first time you’ve seen him this distressed.

“jaemin, where is that coming from??” he says nothing, and it seems like he’s also having a hard time figuring out what to say.

“look jaem, this isn’t on you or anyone else. i’m grateful for all you do for me, you’re a really good friend and i love the time we spend together.” you bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“but i feel like i’ve started to rely on you too much, to expect and want more. it’s a lot, too much even. i don’t want to get my hopes up about anything, so i need to back off a bit.”

“hopes up?” jaemin looks at you with an unreadable expression. “what do you mean by that?” his own hopes start to rise.

you look down at your hands, debating on what to say. but you owe him the truth, even if it changes things between the two of you. honesty and time could save the platonic bond, even if it severs any hope of a romantic one.

“i like you jaem, i like you a lot and i don’t think i can be just friends with you, at least for right now.”

the silence following your confession is deafening.

he calls your name gently, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“___, my angel.” he repeats.

he takes your hand gently in his, and your eyes move from your hands to see him smiling wider than you’ve ever seen.

he closes the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you deeply. his warm soft lips fit perfectly with yours and you melt into him, your hands threading through his hair. he kisses you like a starved man, and he pulls you closer and tighter.

you’re breathless when he pulls away after a while, his lips red and starting to swell.

“you have no idea how much i’ve wanted to hear that.” his eyes are piercing through you.

“i like you, too, and i don’t want to just be your friend. i’m sorry you had to say it first.” you want to cry hearing his confession, but instead wrap your arms around his neck and bring him back into a heated kiss.

you have to be dreaming. you’ve only thought about putting a stop to your feelings for jaemin for almost a month now, but the feeling of this man being in your arms knowing he feels the same way now is so surreal.

jaemin pushes you gently to rest on your back, his hand moving down as his lips stay glued to yours. he feels the same way. he likes you.

“angel, let me take care of you, please.” jaemin’s gaze holds so much intensity.

“i’m yours, jaemin.”

hearing that, he dives right back into your lips with a fervor even greater than earlier, his hands tugging at your pants and underwear to remove them.

he’s always been so intentional with his touches, always seeming to know the perfect way to touch you. your words, however, activate a desperation of wanting to feel more of you and it translates into his rushed, almost clumsy hands.

he cups your heat with one hand as the other sneaks under your shirt to knead at your chest.

you are getting wetter by the second, and jaemin pushes one finger into you. your lips leave his as you moan loudly at the intrusion, and his head moves down to meet his hand at your core.

“jaemin, wait.” he pauses.

“i want you to feel good, too.” jaemin chuckles.

“don’t mind me baby, there’s no greater pleasure for me than making you feel good.”

his words have you wanting to press his skillful mouth onto you as soon as possible, but you stop yourself. “let’s do it together then.”

his eyes almost bulge out of his head at the idea, and the idea goes straight to his cock. he can already feel himself pulsing with need.

“69?? you are too fucking good to me, angel.” and immediately he has you flipped over, with your heat hovering over his face and his cock in your hands.

he starts to lick at you, straining his neck up while you get to work taking him into your mouth. you get into a good rhythm, feeling his groans on your core.

you feel him smile as he harshly tugs your hips down onto his face. you gasp, trying go back into hovering. jaemin’s strong hold doesn’t let you move.

“don’t hover, sit on my face, please.” he goes in again on you, alternating between slurping loudly and swiping his tongue all over.

your legs give out at this and he lets out a deep groan at the feeling of you pressed into him. you give a hard suck on his tip and take him back into your mouth. the vibration from your moans has him seeing stars.

“oh my god,” he mumbles into your core. he separates himself from you for a moment.

“baby, baby stop, sit up, angel.” he pulls you off of him.

“that pretty mouth feels too good, gonna cum too soon,” he pants. “i’ve got you, just sit pretty and leave it to me okay?”

you want to keep going, but jaemin’s back at your entrance like a madman, pulling you to sit on him completely again. his tongue reaches deep into you. he’s moving your hips back and forth, and his chin digs into your bud.

the sudden onslaught of pleasure is too much, and he has you cumming on his face with a loud cry. he helps you ride through your orgasm and you detach yourself from him as he catches his breath.

when he rises, he moves to pull a box from under the couch, but you stop him.

“no, no, please just give it to me, i want to feel all of you.” he looks at you concerned.

“i’m on the pill and i haven’t slept with anyone else since we started fucking, so please just do it.”

his heart is absolutely swooning at your pleading for his dick and your revelation that you’ve been his since the beginning. he stations himself between your legs.

“you’ve got it, baby, you’re my only one, too.” with that, he inserts himself into you, his tip beginning that delicious stretch.

it’s been a while since you’ve fucked him, and jaemin takes his time inch by inch despite wanting nothing more than to ram into you in one go.

“you’re mine, angel, i like you so much and i want you all for myself.”

he groans as he bottoms out, letting you adjust to him, but he can feel himself throbbing inside of you.

“please move, jaemin, i need it so bad.” he’s more than happy to oblige, starting to speed up his thrusts gradually until he’s fully thrusting in and out.

he reaches so fully deep into you, and he pulls out all the way to his tip before snapping his hips into you again.

“you’re so perfect. my angel, my baby, my ___.” he’s whispering sugary sweet words into your ear, and that in combination with his thrusts make your head start to float as your eyes roll back. this feeling is better than any high weed could give you.

“jaemin, jaemin, jaemin,” your cries of his name only encourage him to go faster, hit deeper. his hand presses into your lower stomach, and his fingers rub circles into your bud.

“cum for me, you can do it, just let go.” and you do just that, your back arching off the couch. jaemin pulls out and immediately plunges his fingers back into you to ride out your orgasm.

at this point, his cock is leaking, desperate and throbbing with the need to cum, but he wants you in one more way tonight.

he flips you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips up and teasing your slit with the head of his cock. he plunges back in with a deep groan and begins fucking into you.

your head is clouded from your orgasms and the feeling of overstimulation, and you almost dont feel him reach for something. you hear the clicking of a lighter.

looking behind you, you see jaemin lighting a pipe, all while fucking into you still. he takes a deep inhale, holding it in before blowing it out away from you.

if you had this view on video, you’d be able to get off to it anytime, anywhere. you clench around him tightly as you see him blow out the smoke. your eyes are glued to him.

he notices your gaze. “do you want some, pretty baby?”

you nod hurriedly, turning your head back front as his thrusts push you up the couch. he takes another hit.

a strong hand reaches around to pull you so that your back is pressed against his front. he turns your face to him as he blows smoke into your open mouth. you clench even tighter, and he closes the distance and kisses you sloppily. the smoke is seeping out past both of your mouths, filling the room.

“you’re mine. i’m yours, only yours.” he growls into your ear.

he fucks into you, holding you around your mid section with both of you on your knees. he lets go to hold onto your hips and you slump back onto the couch, unable to hold yourself up. he speeds up, thrusts turning sloppier by the second.

“f-fuck, angel. i’m so close. let me fill you up, i’ll give it to you so good.”

you clench at the promises he’s moaning out loud and he gets closer and closer to his peak. his thrusts are all over the place, desperate to finish as you lock your ankles around his to start rocking your hips back onto his.

“could treat you ten times better than anyone else. no one else for me. you’re the only one i’d ever want or need, only you.”

his sugary words are spilling out and the feeling is all too much as his hips stutter, cumming inside you with a deep, strangled groan. you milk him dry as he empties himself into you, toppling over to lie next to you.

the two of you lie side by side, trying to catch your breath, and he pulls you close to him.

you are emotionally and physically exhausted, but jaemin gets up after a few minutes, coming back with a towel and hoodie.

he cleans you up and helps you to your feet to use the restroom.

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when you settle back into the couch after getting ready for bed, he puts on your show as you cuddle into his side. everything feels so familiar, yet so different without the feelings of uncertainty. you look up at him.

“when were you going to tell me you hated strawberries?” your question catches him off guard.

“who said that??” he chuckles nervously, but he knows he’s been caught and there’s no arguing.

“no seriously, you didn’t have to force yourself or buy that strawberry cough just for me.” you do feel a little bad that he was, even if it was his own free will.

he pauses.

“i just needed something to keep you coming back, aside from my pull out couch of course,” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows. but his words hold truth.

“you should’ve known a month in that you didn’t need strawberry cough to keep me coming back,” you let out a little laugh at how cute he was being.

“imagine the betrayal i felt knowing that you were going to someone else for it though??”

you look at him confused. gears click in your brain when you remember the rose-haired friend you'd talked to earlier that day.

“oh, you know yangyang?” it makes sense given jaemin, shotaro, and yangyang share many mutual friends.

“yes i know the asshole. gonna monopolize it so you don’t ever cheat on me again.” he pouts.

“yes, yes, boyfriends get official exclusive plug rights,” you joke. “as long as you’re not smoking my strawberry cough with anyone else.”

“i won’t even sell it to anyone anymore, it’s reserved for my angel only. and boyfriend?” he smiles and kisses you gently. “i like the sound of that.”

after a few more kisses, you turn your attention back to the show, but jaemin pulls his pipe back out.

“does that mean we can smoke something not strawberry flavored tonight?” he asks, looking relieved.

you laugh and give him the OK, and he’s more than happy to pull out a whole array of different strains he’s been wanting to try with you. you sweat at the variety, but you know you have more than enough time to try them all now that you’re sure he’s yours, and you’re his.

end.

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if you got this far, thank you so much for reading! this is my first full length fic and i hope to write more in the future <3 i hope u enjoyed! shares and feedback are appreciated -coco :)

#nct smut #nct dream smut #jaemin smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #stoner!nct #coco writes

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pjsfvs · 3 months

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breeding kink hc - Mark Lee

paring : husband!mark x afab!reader

warnings/tags : very nsfw, mentions of pregnancy, oral sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, fluff, breeding kink, Mark going AT it

summary : mark will do whatever it takes to get you pregnant.

a/n : this was supposed to be uploaded yesterday on 1/27 but i posted the Sunoo hc instead. Also, if you have any requests, you can leave them in my inbox! and don't leave hate comments for me to see. if you don't like it just block me and leave.

Having a child together was always something Mark and you knew would happen for you. Brushed lightly on the subject, you clearly remember the way Mark’s eyes would light up when you’d mentioned earlier in your relationship, that you wanted children.

Now, married in bliss with your second anniversary approaching, Mark had started to get a little impatient. You both knew you wanted to get pregnant eventually but hadn’t quite decided concretely exactly when just yet.

For Mark, a family always seemed a distant dream. However, when you’d walked into his life, he knew he wanted it with you.

In the beginning of your relationship, you used condoms during sex. It worked at the time, but eventually, after a conversation together, you decided you’d get yourself on birth control. Mark and you were pretty serious, had a solid foundation for your relationship and knew you wanted to be together for the rest of your lives,

And part of you wanted to take that step in your relationship; no matter how minor it may be. Sex was already something so intimate between you two, but to remove the barrier of a condom and really feel each other closer? It felt natural. Felt like something you trusted each other with.

Little did you know, that decision would spark a little something in your man…

For Mark, the first time you’d had sex using birth control, he swore he fell a little further for you [if it was even possible]. To know you trusted him to cum inside, that you weren’t scared, or fearful of anything going wrong meant so much to him.

Often during sex, he’d find himself thinking how much power his seed really had. On birth control, his cum buried deep inside your cunt meant nothing more than the mutual trust you two shared, a symbol of how deep your relationship had gotten.

But if you were off birth control? If the sex was unprotected?

Mark’s cum held great power. He could put a baby in you. Your baby, that you made with the embodiment of love your bodies yield to each other. The thought alone made Mark shiver each time, shuddering with a tingle of anticipation when he’d spill his hot loads inside you each night.

“Mark?” You’d asked one night, after a steamy quickie before bed. You rested your head on his bare chest as he heaves down from his high, a heavy palm rested to the bare skin of your exposed back.

“Yeah, baby?” He returns, kissing the top of your tousled hair softly. His palms are gently soothing over your bare hips, the same hips that would someday, hopefully carry the live of your child.

And that same night, the conversation happened. You’re both ready for a baby, you both want a baby with each other.

Mark is ecstatic, can’t wait to watch your pregnant belly grow as he showers his love on you, taking care of you each step of the way. Mark is already the perfect husband, and you best bet that it would heighten tenfold when you’re pregnant.

You have sex every single day now, sometimes multiple times a day. Sex with Mark was always fantastic, always had you practically on the verge of tears to how well he’d fuck you when he needed to, how well he’d make love to you when he needed to. If anyone knows how to strike the perfect balance, it’s Mark Lee.

“You gonna give me a baby, kitten?” Mark rasps, hastily pounding into your needy cunt from above. His biceps rest on either side of you and they look massive this way, a dark, almost primal darkness in his eyes on some nights like this. You’ve been trying for about a month now, and Mark is growing impatient. Part of him fears deep inside that as always, something will go wrong; deprive him from the life he wants with you. You make sure to assure him, however. Assure him that it’ll happen for you.

“Ye-yes baby, put a baby in me Mark…” You whimper, begging underneath him, soft legs tightly wrapped around his waist to give him optimal access to your deepest parts. Mark’s cock twitches inside you, and you know he’s close. Every single time, you shake and shudder to the feel of being pounded by him, the way his creamy, succulent cum fills up inside you to the brim.

It baffles you the amount of cum the man carries, how much he spills after each fuck. You can definitely feel him fill you up and it turns you on so fucking bad as you desperately pull him close, peppering needy kisses all over his face as he makes you cum as well.

“They say the more orgasms you have, the better the chances of getting pregnant.” Mark whispers, slowly delving between your drenched thighs. He licks a long stride up your aching pussy before circling sloppy, wet circles to your clit. You’re not sure if Mark’s theory is 100% accurate. Nonetheless, you know Mark thrives off making you feel good, he wants you to enjoy the process more than him. After all, you are the one who’s going to be carrying your baby for months on end, bearing all the pain and discomforts that come your way.

It does pull at your heartstrings how much Mark cares, how desperate he is fulfilling the deed of getting you pregnant.

If on your bed, before sex, Mark puts a pillow under your hips to angle them up slightly while he pumps in and out. “Can’t have any drip out,” He smirks, pressing a wet kiss to your lips as his throbbing cock stays positioned inside you, cocooned by your warm, pulsing walls after release.

Cockwarming has become almost a daily occurrence. After he’s came inside you, Mark keeps his girthy member inside your cunt for a couple of minutes as you both come down from your highs. He’ll rest his head in the haven of your breasts, arms wrapping around you as you pull him close, kissing his head to happy dreams of this wonderful, loving man fathering your children someday.

Mark insists that you have sex a couple times a day, and you fear he’ll eventually get sick of having you if you don’t slow down a little

“I’ll never get sick of you,” He whispers into your neck, softly kissing the skin as his arms hold you so dearly tight. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“I do.” You whisper, cupping his cheek. Mark is the sweetest man you know, and you best believe he’s only gotten sweeter since you’ve started trying.

Sometimes, when lounging next to each other, or when he’d come up behind you in a tender hug as you cook breakfast, Mark rests his hands on your belly; dreaming of how heartfelt it would be the day your baby would be in there,

“You’re gonna look so beautiful sweetheart, carrying our baby.” His deep baritone would soothe in your ears as he slams into you, your breasts bouncing to his pace as his hips snap into you hard, senselessly. His balls slam your core so hard each time, and the sounds of skin slapping skin fill the house very often nowadays. “Gonna show you off to the entire world,” He moans, cupping your breasts & kneading them with a firm force, yet cautious not to hurt you, as his mind drifts to the thought of how full they’d look, swollen holding milk

Mark and you have possibly tried every sex position there is at this point. Doggy style? Mark fucks into like a rabbit from behind, cock grinding your cervix to the deepest parts before slipping out entirely, only to plummet back in

Your legs on his shoulders as he fucks into you relentlessly? It’s one of his “trying to conceive” favourites, allows his sperm to take advantage of gravity

Face to face lying beside each other? Mark practically melts each time you do this one. The entry of his cock is so deep this way as you hold each other’s gazes, your leg draped over his waist as his arms pull you closer, rosy skin flushed together with a thin layer of sweat.

From behind as you lay on your stomach? Mark’s eyes roll to the back of his head in this one. He enters you from behind, pounding in as he grinds your g-spot repeatedly, almost always giving you two orgasms before he cums deep, deep inside.

Did I mention how loud Mark is when he cums

He moans, throaty groans fleeing his lips as he practically growls in your ear. The way you clench around him is too much, your pussy is too tight; too warm and he’s far too in love with your body (and all of you, ofc). Far too drunk on thoughts of pounding you pregnant for him.

Sometimes Mark can get so dirty while fucking you.

It surprises you sometimes that your sweet, loving, wholesome husband can say such sinful things

“Gonna make a baby come out of that tight little pussy.” He drips, biting small love marks into your skin as he thrusts, marking your body as his breeding ground.

I mean he is a literal assassin so you do get that he can be a bit brutal sometimes

He tracks your periods and the days you’re most fertile (not that it matters too much since he fucks you into oblivion each day haha) but on days where you’ve ovulating, he makes sure to go deeper, harder, and get in multiple rounds for optimal chances of conceiving.

Mark cumming inside is so special now. You can’t help but shiver each time you feel him explode deep within you, knowing that that load might be the one to do the trick.

You’re an advocating member of the “Make Mark a daddy 2024” campaign.

And when your period is late…you tell Mark with beaming eyes and swear you’d seen a glistening glow in that chocolate gaze, unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

You buy multiple tests together, Mark's hand holding yours the entire time. The thought that your baby might be growing inside you, right now, this second as you stand at the checkout counter has his smiling like a goofy idiot.

Your goofy idiot, of course :)

You take the tests together in the master bathroom of your bedroom. Mark is on edge and you have to hold his hand to reassure him, explaining to him that if its only a false alarm, you’ll keep trying because you want this with him. You need this with him.

You want a family and it’s never going to change.

But when all the tests come back positive, Mark is on the brink of tears.

You both are, holding each other tighter than ever as you both cry into each other’s necks, kneeling in a bundle of cuddles on the bathroom floor. Mark kisses each inch of your face, peppers delicate kisses to your tousled hair, offering squeezes to your hand when you let out a soft sniffle at the sheer happiness.

This is a moment that will forever be engrained in your minds.

It was finally happening; you made a baby.

You’ve never seen Mark this happy before, feeling as if everything in his life has finally fallen into place. This is what all the pain, all the hurt, all the sin that lingers in the shadows of his past had been leading up to. A family with you, free of evil, free of any grim that lingers.

A life where the only Mark Lee that the world knows, is the Mark who loves and is loved by his wife, and the Mark who is a father.

The most loving, caring, amazing father he could ever be.

#౨ৎㅤ violet writes #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark lee #mark x reader #mark smut #mark fluff #husband!mark #౨ৎㅤ mark

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lqfiles · 4 months

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✰ dating na jaemin.

you become his responsibility.

jaemin loves to take care of those he adores, so getting into a relationship with him means that he would do anything for you, literally. you could randomly throw in how you ran out of a perfume you liked and wake up the next morning to a package of the exact same brand, a small note from jaemin attached to it saying he “coincidentally saw it”. he is the type to pull out your chair for you before you could even get near it, and wouldn’t think twice about sacrificing his seat for you if there were none left. he would never let you open the door yourself, instead rushing ahead and pulling it open so you can get in first. the type to tug you closer to prevent anyone from bumping into you. jaemin loves to shower you with acts of service to show you how much he appreciates you.

long phone calls are a MUST.

whenever he has the opportunity to, jaemin doesn’t think twice before dialing your number and calling you. his schedule could be booked and busy, yet he would find a gap somewhere in between it where he could quickly call you, just to tell you he misses you. he anticipates these phone calls, perhaps they’re the highlight of his day. he can’t go a day without at least one call, even if it’s short. they could be the most useless calls, the ones where you just ramble about how you saw some pretty scenery on your way back home, and jaemin would listen to you with a small smile present on his face. the calls could last for hours as he refuses to hang up yet, begging you to stay on the line just for a few more minutes. jaemin enjoys hearing your voice, which is why he always makes sure to call you before he goes to sleep, putting your voice on speaker while he slowly dozes off.

endearingly jealous jaemin.

you would barely be able to tell that jaemin is feeling jealous, it’s almost too unnoticeable. jaemin tries to not get jealous because he doesn’t want to come off as a typical ‘possessive’ and ‘insecure’ boyfriend. still, you’re able to pick up on the force in his smile and his short tense responses. jaemin would reassure you that he is alright, because admitting to being jealous is much more embarrassing to him. it would take a lot of pestering to get him to admit to being jealous, especially if the jealousy formed over something really small such as your friends interacting with you. he’d have a sheepish smile on his face as he tells you that perhaps he felt a bit jealous seeing you get complimented by your other friends, sulking about how he should be the only one who can tell you you’re beautiful. jaemin tends to get jealous over harmless things, but it only reassures you how much he truly likes you (preferably all to himself)

how he asked you out.

it would take jaemin quite a while to admit to himself that he likes you. it’s simply because jaemin is picky with his ideal types and wants to take his time to discover whether the person he plans on pursuing truly fits him like he wants them to. once jaemin assures himself that you’re the one, he’d dwell on how to ask you out. a part of him would want to make it something big, a moment neither of you will forget, and another side of him wants to be casual about it, instead keeping it simple yet sweet. jaemin would opt to go with the fancier route and ask you out to dinner with him. he’d pay for all your meals, compliment you the whole night, and hold your hand while the two of you are walking outside. he’d tug you to the side where it’s just the two of you before admitting his feelings to you in a heartfelt confession. he’d tell you that there is no rush, and how you don’t need to accept it if you don’t reciprocate his feelings (even if that would crush his heart). no worries though, because you’re more than willing to reciprocate those feelings of his and officially becomes his significant other.

kisses.

kissing jaemin would be the epitome of romance. the tingling sensation that travels through your body as he’d place his hand on your jaw, tilting your head to look him right in the eye makes you grow weak. he’d lean in slowly, searching your face for any discomfort and hoping to see the green lights in your eyes. “is this okay?” he’d whisper under his breath, yet you can hear him perfectly. jaemin would wait for you to respond back with words, waiting for consent. and as you give it to him, he slowly craves in and place his lips on yours. the kiss is soft and slow, and you can feel the love emitting into the air. it almost feels like fireworks are exploding in the air as your lips move in synch. kissing jaemin feels like time slows down and it’s just the two of you. you’re not sure how long your lips have been attached for, and you don’t really care either.

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goldyeokki · 11 months

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𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄. ¹⁸⁺ ✧ 𝐍𝐀 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍

꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: fluffy smut ꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you've noticed your boyfriend getting a lot . . . thicker lately.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5.5k ꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: no gendered pet names have been used for the (gn!afab!) reader; unprotected sex; oral (reader receiving); jaemin uses pet names like doll, pretty, baby, angel, whore, slut; big dick!jaemin; size kink; dacryphilia; dumbification if you squint; overstimulation if you squint; marking (jaemin receiving); it's pretty rough but it's also so sweet; choking; so so much praise; manhandling

꒰ 💬 ꒱ 𝐇𝐔𝐀'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. my first fic! wah?! for the love of my life, na jaemin! pls give this lots of love<3

it’s a quiet saturday afternoon for both you and your boyfriend jaemin. neither of you have plans nor do you want to make any, so you’re spending the better part of your day lounging in bed together. he’s watching anime on the television screen across your bed while you scroll through tiktok on a lower volume. both of your legs are tangled together; your cheek is pressed against his bare chest, one arm wrapped around his back. meanwhile, he has his own arm secure around you, bicep acting as support for your neck while his hand rests on your hip. since you’re only wearing your panties and one of his shirts, he likes to take advantage of it and gently caress your exposed skin.

deciding to let your eyes take a break from the screen, you lock your phone and set it aside so you can focus on cuddling jaemin. one of the things that you appreciate the most about having an introverted boyfriend is that you don’t need to worry about awkward attempts to make conversation. you’re able to be comfortable in the silence and simply be.

you let your gaze drop from the big screen ahead to the view of his abs. you notice that he’s going to the gym with jeno and mark more often, and his diet’s altered to include more lean meat and dairy products. he tends to hide his figure with baggy clothes and oversized shirts but when it’s just the two of you, he waltzes around the apartment in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. sometimes, he’ll throw on a hoodie and a pair of socks, but that’s for the harsh winters.

you backtrack the events of the day so far, thinking of the shower that you both took together in the morning after he came back from his morning run. when scrubbing his back, you remember putting in a tad bit more effort to get a thorough job done. the scenes rewind in your mind like cuts of a short film. his back is, without a doubt, more defined now, muscles rolling with every slight movement. his chest is firmer too, but it doesn’t compromise how pillow-like it is when you use it to rest your head. and his arms . . . oh yeah, they’re a lot beefier now. when you compare your boyfriend’s build to jeno’s, the difference is clear as day.

he hasn’t always been this thick, though. you pick your phone back up and scroll back to find photos of your boyfriend nine months ago. he did have a lean and cut figure back then.

so maybe that explains the nagging urge to bite him lately.

well, who could blame you? your boyfriend is built like a club bouncer now. a really, really hot club bouncer. one that you’d gladly bounce on his di–

“something on your mind, baby?” his husky voice pulls you out of your reverie. you hum in response, hoping he’ll let it be but you know he’ll pester you if he’s convinced something is up. your eyes follow the movement of his free hand as he grabs the remote and pauses the show. there’s no way you could miss the flex in his arm and the veins that make themselves prominent when he presses down on the button. “are you sure?”

“very, i promise.” you look up to reassure him with a sweet smile. you take the opportunity for your free hand to gently pat his chest and goddamn, he’s firm. you try not to react but it’s obvious that your efforts are in vain when he chuckles.

“really? because the way your eyes went big when you just did that tells me otherwise.” jaemin shifts your positions so that you’re both sitting upright and facing each other. you pout and look at him but the exposure of his body leads your eyes to glaze all over his broad physique brazenly. “ah . . . is that what this is about?”

“hm?” you play coy, forcing your gaze back up to him as you look at him through your lashes, batting them pretty just the way it drives him crazy. it’s so easy to toy with your boyfriend like this. his pupils dilate and he sucks in a quick breath, adam’s apple bobbing nervously in his throat as he watches you carefully.

“god,” he exhales slowly and carefully. he calls out your name—firm and resolute—with an eyebrow cocked upward. “you’re giving me those eyes . . . fuck. tell me what you want to do. now.” he runs one hand down his face in a feeble attempt to calm himself down, eyes fluttering close as he takes in another deep breath before looking back at you, waiting for you to answer him. he keeps his hands to himself, refusing to touch you until you give him the green light.

there are so many things you want to do to him; so many things you want him to do to you. even in his lust, he looks at you like you put the twinkling stars in the night sky with your very own hands, and god, you kinda wanna sit on his face for it.

it’s a risky statement to make but it’s a risk you’re willing to take. you know that he’s going to jump your bones the second you give him the green light.

“i wanna bite you while you fuck my brains out.”

jaemin doesn’t waste any time—just as you had predicted. he crawls towards you on the bed and once you’re within his reach, he wraps one strong arm around your waist to pull you onto his lap. you’re surprised by the sheer strength that he possesses, evident in the soft gasp and the slightly disoriented look when you realise you’re not where you once were.

“you’re doing this on purpose,” you chastise him with a small pout.

“what am i doing on purpose?” jaemin feigns innocence with a mischievous grin. he pushes away the messy locks of hair that have fallen on your face while the other holds you in place. your eyes trail from his well-manicured hand to his bicep flexing and relaxing with every movement. he takes your chin between his curved index finger and thumb and redirects your gaze so it’s on him. “hey. eyes on me, pretty.” his voice is low and demanding, a twinkle of mischief in his dark eyes as the corner of his lips curls upwards into a smirk. a hot rush of blood flows straight to your core and cheeks from the sudden action.

he uses the hold he has on your chin as leverage to bring your face closer to him until your lips meet halfway. sweet, chaste kisses turn into hot, desperate ones within mere heartbeats. he keeps chasing after you every time you pull away for breath, the grip around you firm as he holds you in place. he doesn’t shy away from contact, no. his hand moves from your chin to cradle the base of your scalp, guiding your head so there’s no accidental bumping while the other slides underneath one of his old shirts that you’re wearing.

the second you’re both pulling away for fresh air, there’s tension and a vague competitiveness that circles the both of you. he glances at you with half-lidded eyes, provoking you with a cheeky smirk and a raise of his eyebrows. this motherfucker. you’re suddenly overcome with a compelling urge to mark him up with hickeys and scratch lines. so, you act on your desires.

you mirror what he likes to do to you: your left hand gently grabs his jaw and turns his face away so you have more access to his neck, lips finding the right spots for you to sink your teeth in and suckle on the flesh until you get him to groan for you. you rock your clothed core against his hardening erection, swathing your tongue over a fresh hickey. you’re rewarded with a deep, throaty groan that rings in your head and sends another rush of blood to your cunt.

“shit, baby,” he exhales slowly in a feeble attempt to keep his composure as you continue your quest.

“gotta let everyone know you belong to me, handsome.” your lips ghost over his ear, whispering words of innocent sin in a low voice to hear another grunt of pleasure from him. satisfied with the reactions he’s giving you, you resume devoting your attention to marking up his neck and chest.

“you’re gonna drive me crazy.” there’s a desperation in his voice where you know he wants to take over. you’re not sure what’s taken over him but decides to let you play first. not that you’re complaining, of course.

you form a trail of open-mouthed kisses all over his broad chest and collarbones, eyelids fluttering against his hot skin until you enclose your lips around one nipple. “oh, shit–!” jaemin’s hips buck up into yours from the sudden sensation of your tongue swirling around the pert bud. his wanton reaction stirs one from you, but you bite back the moan that threatens to spill.

the ache in your core is beginning to become unbearable and you wonder just how much self-control he’s exercising. his hands on your hips are eagerly pushing your heat down against his erection, weakly humping you like a teenage boy experiencing his first sexual encounter.

when you lean back to marvel at your work, you’re greeted with a sight that consumes you with unbridled lust and makes your whole body run hot.

he’s so pretty with his face flushed, flowers of rouge and plum on his neck, collarbones, and chest, glistening with a thin layer of sweat. he’s panting softly, lips swollen from being bitten and sucked on thanks to you, and for a brief moment, the golden late noon sun that peeks through your covered blinds envelopes him in an ethereal glow.

your nails gently rake down his sculpted biceps as you ascend back up, following your trail of hickeys until you find your faces mere inches from each other once again.

“hey, you,” jaemin exhales before giving you a soft, chaste kiss. “had fun?” he asks softly. you giggle, nodding as you cup his face to properly kiss him this time.

even when he’s desperate for air, his lips trap yours in a feverish lock as if you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. his hips buck upwards into yours every other heartbeat. dexterous hands dance along your body, toying with the fabric that keeps your exposed skin from him. he’s starting to get restless for some proper action—a constant habitual reaction that you’ve noticed from him every time you’re about to get frisky.

he starts to grab and knead possessively at your love handles. that’s when you know: it’s his turn to undress you.

jaemin grabs a fistful of your shirt hem and pulls it over your head before tossing it over his shoulder into a forgotten corner. one hand is on your waist, the other ghosting his fingertips down your spine so your back gently arches into him. he nibbles on your bottom lip and presses your throbbing core against his erection.

the action elicits a soft gasp of surprise from you. he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips while fondling your right breast, pinching and rolling his thumb over your hardened nipple. he begins his own trail of open-mouthed kisses from your jawline down to your chest just so he can hear your pretty moans.

you don’t even realise that he had been slowly making you lean down until your back hits the mattress. he suddenly stops and your mind is reeling to hazily explore the one thousand and one reasons he might have paused.

before you can even think to ask if everything is okay, jaemin slides your panties to the side and latches his lips onto your clit.

shockwaves spread through your body and your hands immediately fly to his hair, thighs clenching around him when he suckles on the sensitive nub.

“jaemin!” you whine in defeat, eyes fluttering shut with your head thrown back. he only hums in response and the vibrations send another wave of electricity up your spine.

he languidly laps at your juices, his gaze constantly flitting between your face and your core. he eats you out like he’s been given a lavish meal by the gods. he toys with your clit—suckling, flicking, rolling at the nub just to watch your face contort and scrunch up in equal parts pleasure and frustration of not getting what you want. a wide grin appears on his face when your eyes meet and you whine his name in a long drag.

jaemin’s tongue starts to dance along your lower lips, collecting your juices on the wet muscle before he thrusts it deep into your core. you moan from the relief of having something shoved inside of you, walls clenching tightly around him which pulls a throaty grunt from your boyfriend.

the lewd, wet sounds of slurping and sucking fill your shared bedroom. you feel your cheeks and neck burn from how embarrassing and erotic it is but you’re too occupied with how good it feels to have his tongue stretch you out. your high is creeping upon you slowly and before you can push his head deeper so you can ride his face, he pulls away to wrap his lips around your neglected bud.

“tastes so fucking sweet,” he groans around your clit. long, dexterous fingers dig into the pillowy flesh of your thighs as he pins you down, not allowing a single movement from you. “could eat you out all day, baby.” your frustration picks away at you, tears welling in your eyes, walls clenching desperately around nothing. a needy whine is pulled from your throat before you can even stop yourself.

jaemin hums and looks back up at you, raising an eyebrow upward smugly. you’re glaring down at him, body burning with need and lust, while he continues to flick his pointed tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves. your body starts to twitch from how sensitive you are, fingers digging deep into his fluffy brown locks but he’s not done playing with you yet.

“need something, pretty?” there’s a gentle slur in his words, pretty pink lips stained with your pearlescent arousal as he rises to his feet. you don’t even know when he discarded his clothes but he’s naked with his cock throbbing against his stomach. he wraps his fingers around his duo-toned erection, spreading beads of precum on himself. “c’mon baby, use your words for me.”

the mattress dips where he parts your thighs with an authoritative bump of his knee, climbing over you like a predator surveying its prey. he leans forward, free hand gently grabbing your jaw while the other lazily pumps himself. he cocks an eyebrow upward as he grinds his bare cock against your sopping folds, letting his heavy tip catch against your clit just to watch you whimper and tremble from the sensation.

“want your cock in me now, jaem,” you whine desperately. he’s second-guessing himself and you can see it in the way his features soften a little in concern. he will always get you to cum at least once before he penetrates and this is the first time he will be forgoing it. but you—you’re desperate. your juices are dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets and you’re beyond sure that he’ll be able to slip right in.

“are you sure, angel?” jaemin’s thumb runs over your bottom lip. when presented with the opportunity, who are you to deny yourself of taking it into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it? his eyes darken, lids drooping halfway and brows furrowing just the slightest. “you’re gonna be the death of me. use your words, pretty.”

he’s caught in a trance-like state as he watches you suck on his thumb. you know he’s tempted to pull his thumb away to replace it with his ring and middle fingers just to see how deep you can take him in. since he denied you of your pleasure, you’ll deny him of his.

you release his thumb from your lips with a soft, wet pop before gazing up at him through your lashes.

“i need you to fuck me now, jaemin. i need you.”

like a switch had been flipped, he cusses under his breath and looks down to guide his cockhead to your entrance. without a hint of a warning, he bullies his cock into your warm, awaiting cunt.

“fuck!” he groans when you wrap your legs around him, heels digging into his lower back to encourage him to push deeper. meanwhile, your head is thrown back, eyes rolling back as he sinks further into you, walls tightening around him like a vice. jaemin grabs your jaw once again to force your gaze onto him. “look at me when you’re taking my fat cock, baby.”

you force your eyes open with a shaky breath, doing exactly as you’re told as you pant hotly. he continues burying himself into you until he bottoms out and his eyes bore into you when your face contorts in pure pleasure of feeling the euphoric stretch of your walls to accommodate his heavy girth.

“fuck, how are you always so fucking tight?” he’s the first to break eye contact, lids squeezing shut as he lets you get used to his size. his head falls forward and he takes the opportunity to plant sweet kisses all over your face and cheeks. you know better than anyone that it’s his way of distracting himself while you get used to his size before he starts to fuck you. it’s not like you haven’t fucked in a long time—he’s just big enough for you to struggle even when you’re at least two orgasms down.

“m-move,” you barely whisper.

with your consent, he rolls his hips forward to test the waters and he’s rewarded with a needy whine paired with your walls squeezing around him.

jaemin’s right hand plants firmly on your hip while the other gently grabs your jaw to give him more access to your neck. there’s no warning when he starts ploughing into you, cockhead burying itself deep into your cunt with every upward snap of his hips. pleasure spreads through your body in constant waves as he sets a brutal pace, fucking you with reckless abandon. his name rips through your throat in tandem with the sounds of skin smacking against skin bouncing off the thin walls.

“such a desperate little whore.” his lips latch onto your neck as he continues driving his heavy cockhead deep against all of the good spots. “always so fucking tight for me.” he sighs almost wistfully. the hand that was on your jaw moves to wrap around your throat, fingers pressing down on the right spots to restrict your airflow.

you’re already so sensitive, sparks igniting all over your body, but he angles his hips higher so his tip is aggressively bullying the exact spot that has you seeing stars. your feeble hands wrap around his wrist as he leers over you with a domineering grin.

the sight of him so consumed with lust has your heart racing from how handsome yet hedonistic he looks. his onyx eyes are blown with a dark eagerness, strands of deep brown locks sticking to his temples as beads of sweat form trails down his hairline. his lips are pink and swollen from being kissed so lovingly whilst his neck and collarbones are littered with hickeys done in your name. he looks so sinful. it’s an intoxicating view that sends your head into a tailspin and another hot burst straight to your core.

“you look so pretty when you’re so fucked out, angel,” he hissed through his teeth. “so cockhungry you can’t even speak? all you needed was my cock and you’ll be satisfied, ain’t that right?”

before you can argue with him, jaemin pulls his cock out from you and slaps the tip against your neglected clit. you whine from the sudden emptiness when he pulls away from you, desperate for his hands on your body.

“jaem . . .” your complaint comes in the form of a weak whisper that he only chuckles quietly in response. “i wanna feel you, jaem.”

“patience is a virtue, pretty.” there’s a gentle lilt in his voice and through your glossy vision you can see the grin. he’s having fun taking his own sweet time with you while you crave for his touch. as punishing as it is, part of you is quivering with anticipation for what comes next.

jaemin sinks down onto his knees until he’s face to face with your lower lips. he brings his left hand down to your dripping core, middle and index fingers spreading your pussy lips apart. he huffs in amusement as he watches your hole clench desperately around him. in embarrassment, you try to close your thighs to hide from him but he’s quicker and far stronger. one strong grip of warning and you submit in a heartbeat.

“such a gorgeous cunt . . . probably waiting for more of my cock, hm?” he asks without really asking, gaze flitting up to yours and he’s chuckling once again when you nod desperately.

he rises to his feet, casually patting his hand against your pussy and making it a point for the heel of his palm to put pressure against your throbbing clit.

“jaemin . . .”

“shh, we’ll get there, baby. patience.”

he pulls you up into a sitting position with ease before he takes his own space on his side of the bed. his back is against the headboard, pillows supporting him as he sits back and strokes his aching cock. you stare at him through your wet lashes, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

“pretty baby wants my cock, right?” you nod eagerly. “show me how badly you want it, then.” you want to glare and huff and puff and throw a tantrum but his stern gaze penetrates right through you. you pout in a feeble attempt to get him to at least pull you onto his thick lap again but he doesn’t budge.

“you’re so mean.” you complain with a grumble. with trembling thighs and arms you crawl over to him anyway. you don’t think look too hot or sexy but jaemin watches your every move like he’s going to eat you up the second you’re in his grasp. he maintains eye contact as he cleans up the hand that he used to touch himself, flat tongue licking and swirling around his dexterous digits. god, he looks so fucking hot.

you don’t know what he’s going to do next but you’re going to take advantage of getting up close so you can sink your teeth into his shoulders and your nails into his biceps.

“oh, i’m mean for giving you a chance to prove how much your slutty pussy wants my fat cock?” his words are so vulgar and it sends a hot rush straight to your core. when you straddle him, cockhead ghosting over your pussy lips, he gently takes your chin between his thumb and curled index finger to guide your eyes onto him. “why are you so quiet? cat got your tongue, doll?”

“no.” you huff in defence. jaemin chuckles in amusement when you plant both your hands on his shoulders and turn your face away slightly. when you’ve steadied yourself successfully, you take the base of his cock and line him up with your entrance.

as much as you would love to worship his body as he did to you, you’re far too impatient and too desperate to chase after your high. he’s been teasing you relentlessly and you’re going to get what you’ve been craving for.

you sink yourself down onto his cock, taking deep breaths while your walls flutter restlessly around his girth. his hands fly to your waist and guide you until you’re buried to the hilt. the tip is snugly kissing your g-spot when you’re seated properly, thighs burning from the effort after being relentlessly toyed with. your head drops and a soft moan of his name comes from your throat, forehead resting against his shoulder.

“shit,” he curses under his breath. the grip he has on your waist moves to your ass, kneading the pillowy flesh and littering kisses all over your temple and exposed shoulder. “you okay, pretty? i know my cock is too big for your greedy cunt but you take it like a good slut anyway, don’t you?” your whimpers and weak nods in response to his lewd words made his cock twitch inside of you, sending chills up your spine.

it drives you insane the way he can be so sweet and gentle while calling you such mean and obscene names. and you hate the way it makes your walls clench like a vice around him.

“yeah? i knew you liked being called a good slut.” jaemin’s fingers dig into you, biceps bulging as he effortlessly lifts you up and down his cock at a slow and steady pace. every time he sinks you down, he makes it a point to snap his hips upwards to meet you halfway. “such a cockhungry angel. what would everyone say if they saw you drooling all over my cock, huh?”

you mewl weakly in response, biting down on his shoulder to suppress your moans while your nails dig into his biceps.

“fuck, you really like getting called such dirty names, don’t you?” he bullies his cockhead right where it makes you see stars in your vision just so he can hear your sweet cries for mercy. you feel a little lightheaded from the pleasure coursing through your veins with every gentle yet hard thrust into you, blissfully taking his cock as he wants you to. “you’re so fucking dirty, baby. whose cock does this pussy belong to?”

you want to say his name, to say that it’s him, but you’re too drunk on the feeling of him wrapped around your walls to think of anything coherent.

“already dumb on my cock? i’ve barely begun, babe.”

while he’s still inside of you, jaemin secures your legs around his waist before he pushes you onto your back, changing your positions once more. the air gets knocked out of your lungs at the sudden switch, meekly whimpering his name when he checks on you. when he’s sure you’re okay, he gives you a sweet kiss on your forehead.

you don’t even realise that he has your knees hooked on his shoulders, his own digging into the mattress on either side of you. before you can process what is happening, you’re left gasping for air once again when he starts pounding into you with reckless abandon.

“jaemin!” a broken cry of his name rips through your throat when he snakes one hand down to roll your clit in figure eights. between his cock ruining your walls and the added stimulation to your throbbing clit, there’s nothing but sweet release and pleasure that fills your mind. “j-jaem, fuck, ‘s too– fuck!”

“too what, baby? is it too much? is my fat cock too much for you, baby?” he growls into your ear yet places a sloppy, tender kiss on your jawline. “you were just begging to get fucked like a whore and now—shit—and now my angel’s complaining it’s too much?” he punctuates the last three words with a thrust harder and rougher than the last, sending your head into a tailspin as your jaw drops to mewl weakly.

his words sink into your skin, touch electrifying as he patiently helps you reach your high.

“it’s– fuck, jaemin!” you weep pathetically with your walls clenching around him like a vice. you bite down on your lower lip as tears spring from your eyes due to the overstimulation of him relentlessly hitting your g-spot again and again while toying with your throbbing clit. the familiar knot starts to form and build up in your stomach, your body burning up with a feverish lust that only he can take care of. “i’m close, fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, please!”

“my baby’s close?” he echoes. beads of sweat drip down his chin and mix with yours on your body. you didn’t think he could get any rougher but he proves you otherwise with his incessant rolling and tapping on your throbbing bud. he leans back to allow his free hand to play with your tits—kneading, pinching and rolling at your sensitive nipples with calloused fingers. “go on, baby. make a mess all over my cock before i fill you up, can you do that for me?”

all of the stimulations are piling up. you can’t focus on one thing at all; everything is too much all at once and the knot in your stomach is tightening dangerously. every shove and drag of his cock within your walls leave you gasping for hair, sucking him back in desperately when he withdraws himself. the sound of wet skin slapping against skin fills your ears, your moans bouncing off the walls in tandem with jaemin snapping his hips against yours. your eyes fly open—when had they shut?—to look at your boyfriend whose dark eyes burn with a feral desire to make you come undone.

“what’s wrong, baby? need me to talk you through your orgasm?” as if your body doesn’t feel hot enough already, your cheeks burn and you weakly manage a nod. he grins, clearly proud that he has this effect on you. “c’mon baby, i know you want my cum to fill you up. don’t you? i know you can do it for me, i’m close too. make a mess all over my fat cock and show me who this tight cunt belongs to.”

his words are all that it takes to bring you your sweet release. his name is ripped from your throat as your orgasm hits you in a dangerous wave, pussy clamping down on him and forming milky white rings around his cock. jaemin doesn’t stop pounding recklessly into you nor does he stop toying with your clit, switching between tapping and rolling the bud as he helps you ride out your high while he chases after his own.

“so good, you’re so fucking good for me,” he groans. the wet squelching sounds get lewder with every drag of his cock through your fluttering walls. you shouldn’t feel embarrassed about it but for some reason you are. your boyfriend doesn’t give you enough time to think about it as his thrusts get sloppier and he starts to lose his rhythm. “fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry for me. your cunt’s so fucking good, so tight f’me, fuck! i’m gonna cum, you gonna let me fill your needy pussy up, angel?”

“yes, fuck, yes!” both of your hands reach out to cup his face to direct his gaze onto you. “need you to fill me up, jaemin. wanna be dripping full of your cum. cum for me, baby.” your words act as the catalyst to helping him come undone.

his hips stutter against yours, face scrunching up and eyes fluttering shut as your name comes in a long, whiny drag from his throat. his cock twitches once, twice, before you’re filled with his hot seed. the sensation makes your shoulders tense up slightly, quietly moaning at the warmth.

jaemin, while still buried deep inside of you, carefully maneouvres himself so you’re both lying down on the bed. he makes an effort to pull you close into his chest and let him be your mattress to avoid hurting you. both of you are panting heavily, lightheaded from the dizzying pleasure as the after-sex buzz crawls underneath your skin.

“you feeling okay, pretty?” he’s the first to check in on you, turning his head to the side. he reaches his hand out to push locks of your hair that are stuck to your face. in his peripheral vision, he catches the bite marks and faint scratches that adorn his bicep and he laughs through his nose. “jesus christ, babe. sure did a number on me this time, huh?”

his words are swirling in your head and you grin lazily while looking up at him.

“you should look at yourself in the mirror next, handsome.” he cracks another smile at the slight slur in your speech, obviously worn from the spontaneous session.

jaemin lovingly leans into you to press a kiss to your forehead, lips lingering as if he’s letting the affection pour from his soul and into yours.

“i love you, _____.” he confesses in a soft whisper—a confession meant only for you to hear. “let’s take a ten-minute break before i set up the bath so we can clean up, yeah?” his hand rests at your waist, thumb massaging circles and mindless shapes into the soft flesh.

“i love you too, jaemin.” you whisper back. “we can do that.” although your body is still buzzing from the aftermath of what might just be one of your most satisfying orgasms in the past week, you’re stubborn enough to want to take care of him too. in the safety of his arms, you allow yourself to succumb to the exhaustion as your eyelids slowly fall shut.

#na jaemin smut #jaemin smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #jaemin x reader smut #hua writes #h.smut #h.dream #h.jaemin

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jishyucks · 3 days

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⋆.˚ on a whim — ldh ˚.⋆

‣ pairing: haechan x reader

‣ genre: friends-to-lovers?, fluff

‣ wc: 1.06k

‣ summary: ❝What if… what if I kissed you?❞; alternatively, you impulsively suggest to be your best friend's first kiss

‣ warnings: I wouldn't say it's steamy at the end but it's like,,, sorta detailed

‣ an: this is bc hyuck in glasses makes me want to do backflips (this is literally self-indulgent)

“I’m almost done with this assignment and then after we can watch a movie, sound good to you?”

You scribbled down a few words, waiting for Donghyuck to respond to your question, but you were returned with a half-assed hum. This catches your attention, mainly because it wasn’t like Donghyuck to be disinterested in a movie. He said once that movie nights were his favourite nights.

“Hyuck?” you shift your attention from your work to your best friend, brows knitting together.

Donghyuck’s lying on your bed, eyes looking straight up to the ceiling with an empty expression. You don’t even think he’s blinking.

“Hyuck.” Your voice is firm, trying to catch his attention. You can’t even see him blinking through his glasses, lips falling into a pout.

“Lee Donghyuck!”

You finally catch his attention, though all he does is turn his head in your direction, “Yeah? Sorry… I zoned out.” He sits up on your bed, crossing his legs underneath him.

“I was saying how I’ll just finish this assignment and then we can go on with movie night,” you repeat, “Are you okay? Still up for it?” Your head tilts to the side and Donghyuck has to look away before you cause his heart to arrest.

“Of course I am, I just…” He bites his bottom lip and blinks at the wheels of your chair.

“Is this about what my friends said earlier?” You frown. In all honesty, you didn’t even want to talk about it because you know your anger issues are going to take over. When Donghyuck fails to give you a reply, you follow the question up, “It is, isn’t it?”

“My feelings are valid,” he retorts stiffly, falling back onto his back, “I know I’m pathetic for not even getting my first fucking kiss at this age but—”

“You’re not pathetic, Hyuck,” you interrupt, angry at how he was putting himself down for something so ridiculous, “Don’t say that. Everyone lives life at their own pace.” You throw a soft punch at his knee and he yelps despite it not hurting.

“I know, you’ve told me that before, but when it’s pointed out, I see why it’s stupid,” he goes on, “Like not one person has brought themselves to want to kiss me? How pathetic is that?”

Trains of thought begin running through your head and you let the question hang in the air for too long. Far too long that this makes Donghyuck nervous, “You could at least say that it is pathetic instead of not saying any–”

“What if… what if I kissed you?”

Donghyuck shoots up, “What?”

“What if I kissed you.” You say more confidently, “Then you could say that you kissed someone.”

Donghyuck’s chewing on his lip now, unsure whether or not this would be a good idea, “You’d do that?... Would that even count?”

“I’ll count it if you do…” You say, “Besides, if you’re okay with it, and I’m okay with it, it counts.” Your legs scooches your chair closer to Donghyuck, almost as if anticipating his answer.

If Donghyuck was being honest, he liked the idea. It’s not like he’s been waiting for this for the longest time, no… he just thought it was a good idea. And it was you he was going to kiss for god’s sake. He trusted you, he cared about you, he wouldn’t mind if his first kiss was you. Hell, he wanted his first kiss to be you, “Okay.”

You scoot closer so that your knees touch his, “Go whenever you’re ready.”

“O-okay,” Donghyuck’s taken aback by how straight forward you’re being. He nods once and shifts forward in place, leaning forward to bring his face closer to yours, “Okay, I’ll do it now.”

You can feel his warm breath on your face and it somehow sends you shivers down your neck. The proximity between the two of you is small. It felt like he was doing it on purpose to tease you and you were tempted to be the one who closed the gap between the two of you.

Donghyuck comes closer and you’re ready to close your eyes, but then he pulls away, “Shit, s-sorry.” He apologizes, “I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?” A frown grows on his lips, worried that he was actually making it awkward between the two of you, just because of a kiss, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

You nod, “I’m the one who suggested it, Hyuck.”

He huffs and nods again. He starts closing in on you. His hands instinctively reach up to grab your face, and at that point you know he’s going to commit to it. Just like earlier, you feel his breath tickle your lips, and before you know it, Donghyuck’s plush lips are pressed up against yours.

Donghyuck holds back a gasp, holding his lips to yours. For a moment, he’s afraid he’s doing it wrong, unsure whether or not he’s moving his lips correctly, but the second you begin kissing back, hands finding the back of his neck in hopes of finding something to hold onto, a sense of relief washes over him.

He pulls away to breathe before pushing his mouth back onto yours. The kiss was deep, that was for sure, something he didn’t expect to happen. When you suggested a kiss, he thought you meant something along the lines of a ‘one-two’ and done, not this. But he didn’t mind it. And it seemed like you didn’t either.

In fact, he likes the feeling. There’s a warm feeling growing in his chest the longer the kiss lasts and he couldn’t get enough of it.

So this was why people did it so often. It felt good.

Donghyuck’s arms slither around your figure, bringing his hands to your back. Then he pulls you closer. And again, you don’t mind.

And just as he feels your tongue tapping gently on his lips to let him in, Donghyuck feels something sharp scratch the bridge of his nose and it doesn’t take him long to realize that his glasses were getting in the way of everything.

He pulls back, groaning, out of breath before he rips them off of his face—because, no, he doesn’t care if he can’t see your face. All he wants to do is kiss you.

“Fuck it,” he mutters before he smashes his lips back onto yours.

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ofdreamsnwishes · 16 days

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You’re not sure what woke you up from your nap. It could’ve been the slight chill because of the AC, or it was the arms wrapped around you, holding you on a deathly grip, those arms belonging to none other than your boyfriend. Ah, yes, maybe that was it, your boyfriend, Jisung.

His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer, if it was even possible at this point. When he arrived you were unsure, as you had first fallen asleep alone, cuddling an old, but well loved, plushie to your chest. Your boyfriend now took it’s place, Mr. Bowtie, the name your 6-year-old self gave the plushie, somewhere across the room.

Jisung always had a one-sided beef with all of your plushies, it seemed; he’d grumble and glare at them whenever you’d hold them in your arms, complaining about how they would eventually replace him. You’d just pinch his cheeks and shower him with kisses, making him forget momentarily about the competitors for your heart.

You both had a habit of taking naps together, wrapped in each other’s embrace, nuzzled together under the piles of blankets, so waking up to him cuddled up to you was no surprise. His friends once teased him and said you were a ‘Jisung magnet’, wherever you were, he was nearby.

Wiggling around in his hold, you tried your best to shift positions to a more comfortable one. The movement being enough to wake your boyfriend up, as he groaned, hiding his face on the crook of your neck.

“You’re not getting up to get that old bear, are you?” He complained, voice laced with sleep. You couldn’t see his face, but you’re sure he was pouting.

“Do not talk about Mr. Bowtie like that.” You softly scolded, running your hands through his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

“You love that bear more than me…” He whined, biting your neck playfully in retaliation, trapping you on his arms so that you could not run away from him.

“J-jisung…!” A high pitched giggle left your lips, hands flailing around as you tried to push his head away. In your struggle to get away from his nibbling, you end up hitting your head on his, making both of you groan in pain.

“It’s all your fault.” You murmured, holding your aching forehead.

“I blame it on the bear.”

“Stop picking on Mr. Bowtie, he can’t defend himself.”

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream x reader #jisung #park jisung x reader #jisung x reader #↳ my writings ༉‧₊#↳ just nct ༉‧₊

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i4oba · 19 days

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nct dream as… / fanfiction aus 𓈒✳︎🏡

[take the quiz here to see which one you get!]

✰ MARK — childhood friends to lovers!au

ever since you've basically known your name, mark has been the boy next door. there was the cheeky, red letters of "lee" painted on the mailbox, the windows were adorned with the same coloured curtains, and the same doormat has been sitting in front of their door for ages. you have loved mark ever since you two have met. there wasn't a day where you wouldn't think of him, and there hasn't been a day when you haven't loved him. it was like a vicious circle which you couldn't get out of, because those stupid feelings would destroy the oh so precious friendship of yours, and you cannot let that happen, right? i mean, that's what you've thought for far too long, since this friendship meant more to you, than the fragile feeling of love - you didn't want it to get to the point where you would rather spit on each other, than talk it out. maybe that's why you pushed him away from yourself? maybe you just did that because you weren't too sure of your own peace of mind? no matter what, you knew the decision itself was wrong, only to realize it way too late. damaging the friendship and crying yourself to sleep was all your fault, after all, being way too proud and scared, stupid even; when you came back to the town where you two grew up, the least thing you wanted was to meet mark lee, mainly because you wouldn't have been able to look him in the eyes after all these happened. but you had to, so soon you even got a little surprised. it's been a while since the last time you have been home, your bedroom seemed way too unfamiliar at that point, just like the vhs tape placed directly in the middle of your bed. one which you haven't seen yet. it didn't have a title, the white label completely empty as you picked it up. you were a little bit cautious when placing it in the system, waiting for it to play whatever is on it, not having such large imagination to expect anything. it was a home video montage, full of videos of you and mark: playing together, getting ready for the first day of school, going to the movies, the way you two got engaged in middle school as a joke, and the omnious day of prom... you got teary eyed, with one thing on your mind - you have to go and save whatever's left now. maybe you're not too late.

✰ RENJUN — soulmate!au

life had been pretty much grey and dreary until you found The One. the other half everyone had been so obsessed to find. you were never big on all this stuff, because you were convinced you'd be able to live as a single half for you whole life, and don't need anyone else to feel complete. deep inside you knew that all of this is bullshit, truly, and all that was coming out of you was true bitterness and constantly ongoing unsuccessful confessions, making you believe in your delusions. with every passing second, you had to see people find their other half, while you were left to deal with the grey world you were left in, not as a choice but as fate instead. you felt like a loser, a big zero, who doesn't even deserve a soulmate. you thought you were destined to die alone, maybe compensate with something of brilliance: be a composer or a singer, write or paint something extraordinary, lord knows what, just something of importance! you were looking for yourself in every corner of the world, not for a lover or a fling, not for an other half, fully ignoring the law of attraction. it might have been some reverse psychological trick, effecting it all. and this may have been the reason behind why you had to leave that horribly boring theatre play, sneaking out and bumping into The One, who handed back your accidentally dropped bag, slowly looking into your eyes. he might have worked at the theater as he was wearing a name tag on his elegant shirt - huang renjun, it said. but it doesn't even matter, because his eyes were brown! brown! not grey, brown! everything cleared up. you did find the half - with brown eyes and a smile so bright.

✰ JENO — coffee shop!au

it was pretty much bittersweet to step foot in your favourite café: it was getting dark out there, and although the rain has stopped pouring, you got absolutley soaked to the core along the way there, rain replacing the tears on your face by then. your hair was sticking to your forehead uncomfortably, your body trembling without stopping, as you entered. the bell placed above the entrance was ringing lightly, gathering everyone's attention to you, although there wasn't too much people there except for the baristas, maybe two wandering souls, working on their laptops or reading in a cozy corner. well, maybe if it wasn't for getting dumped literal minutes ago, you wouldn't be here either, but it was still the most reasonable choice compared to going to a club or a ruin bar, gettig incredibly drunk, Plus! a good espresso might be able to clear the fog in your head, which you were in need of during this stupidly stressing period of life. you expected hyuck to greet you by the coffee machine, grinning ear to ear, as he always does when you visit between two lectures, but there was a completely new face behind the counter. it's been a long time since you've last seen a new employee here. his smile was sweet and rather warm, eyes conveying a sense of concern as you took one step closer, rubbing your eyes while getting your purse out of your pocket - you discreetly looked at his name tag, right on his black apron: lee jeno. whatta name... by then, you were way to hopeless to try and guess how the day would go, but life had to surprise you, fate deciding funnily against all odds: next to your cup of coffee, there was a napkin, hiding a telephone number on it, messily written down with a short message as well: "would you go out on a date with me, darling? :)"

✰ HAECHAN — rivals to lovers!au

lee donghyuck's name rushed through the hallways of your music academy just as quietly as a whisper, and you never knew why was it all like that ever since you've stepped foot into the school. you couldn't even hide the way too obvious rolls of your eyes every time you heard it. lee donghyuck was one of the biggest prodigies at the academy, no one could even be considered as a rival for him, this is mainly why he was such a big living legend amongst the students - you couldn't even hide how annoyed this made you, especially because he made sure you knew this ever since you two were little. music played a huge part in both of your lives, and somehow, you two always seemed to be at each other's throat, the first place at being the best always changing between the two of you. you could never get rid of each other either; your dad, always being so positive, once said, on your way to the academy sometime between sophomore and junior year, that the only reason behind this is that you two are equally good at what you're doing. you were pretty much skeptic for the longest of time, and felt as if you were destined to be the forever second next to him. you've had enough of always bumping into walls, since hyuck was the one who could stand at the first place ever so proudly. in kindergarten, in middle school, and even in high school, every. god damn. time. and that infuriating smile was plastered all upon his face even when you two were asked to not perform alone on the annual charity gala of your academy - you two had to perform something phenomenal, putting the childish jarring aside, growing out of the silly phase of hating each other, which was all made up by you, and you only, pushing the poor boy away from you. the boy who had always been so obsessed with you, utterly and completely. he won this time again, isn't it right?

✰ JAEMIN — photographer!au

when jaemin brought up the idea of making the last parts of his portfolio with you (which basically means about you), you were a little bit skeptic at first. you loved jaemin dearly, since he was a really understanding friend, but... you were simply terrified of cameras. you didn't really like the idea of being captured at all, you hated looking back at yourself on pictures taken of you, and you couldn't even think about how high quality his pictures would be with that hyper super machine, focused on all the little flawed details of your face that you absolutely despised. no, you couldn't even bear the idea of this whole project, and you stood by this decision of yours, jaemin waiting patiently the whole time, not pushing it too hard. since he wanted to work with you no matter what, giving up on his plan wouldn't be too typical of him - the fight didn't last long but it was pretty heated, him highlighting so many known things that needed to be said finally: it's childish how you reflect on yourself, and your delusions stop you from way too many things. the way he said straight into your face how beautiful he thinks you are, inside and outside, and that he wants the whole world to know how ethereal you are, made you tear up a little - especially when he said his heart breaks every time you speak so lowly of yourself. he truly thinks you're the modern manifestation of aphrodite, that you are his own venus, the muse of him, someone he can adore... that he's way too in love with you to let go of this, and-; the kiss you gave him was short, yet gave him exact answers. answers to hundreds and thousand of unsaid questions he kept hidden in himself for years and years on end.

✰ CHENLE — blind date!au

you clearly didn’t brace yourself for this whole fiasco proposed by donghyuck himself, foolishly believing his reasonings behind how perfect of a matchmaker he is. of course you knew that what he way saying was partly stupid, plus you were like a seventy percent sure he wasn't even sober when he set up a blind date during that omnious frat party he wasn't invited to. you didn't have to worry or anything, that's just how you were - overly anxious of such things, even if you weren't meeting a psychopath. you were only a bit vary of the awkwardness this whole new experience would bring, both of you rushing home way too soon from the date, trying to forget about it as soon as possible. these misconceptions about how the night would go stayed straight until you stopped in front of the restaurant to wait for your - then late already - date. you were a little nervous he stood you up, and you got yourself into the most beautiful piece of clothing from you wardrobe for nothing, but it was worth it, looking back at it, as zhong chenle arrived and you two simply just... clicked? automatically? not to mention you two decided to leave the place after the hors d'oeuvre, since you both found the place a little too fancy at that moment, going to a simple ice cream parlor instead, taking a walk in the park after, talking about anything and everything that came to mind: family, politics, movies and the most embarrassing memories from your childhood came up too, as you couldn't help but laugh at how chenle dropped his ice cream cone on the ground, while he simultaneously promised you that he wouldn't drop the cone on the next date - and you smiled, so happily.

✰ JISUNG — secret admirer!au

you were head over heels for jisung and his undying love for dancing. but, thinking a bit deeper about it, while writing that foolish, teenager like love letter for him, forced into the role of his secret admirer, there were much more of those things that made you feel head over heels for the boy: he showed you what persistence was, he spent the whole of his youth with you, and he wasn't afraid to spend the rest of his life with you, helping you out anytime you're in need of it, since he couldn't not do that as you "best friend". he couldn't be evil with you, he was never able to leave you and he couldn't even envision a future in which you weren't by his side. but the border he made up between the two of you, was never crossed - you two were friends, not more, not less. you were so torn deep inside, as you were helpless, being in the never ending limbo you would rather push forward, but he kept on tugging it backwards; the idea of writing letters was originally from your mother, who had enough of your obvious agony. she was positive you would write every feeling of yours out, making it easier as time goes by. their number kept growing, however, one letter becoming a dozen soon enough, maybe even more in the meantime, while not writing a name on any of them, referring to yourself only as a mere secret admirer. they suddenly disappeared from the bottom of your drawer one day, though, realizing way too late that the ringing phone in your pocket was in fact park jisung, the picture of him taking up the screen of your mobile - did he know?

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yeonghosins · 8 months

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high (with my lover) [m] – l.dh

pairing: non idol!donghyuck x reader

genre: smut/fluff

summary: y/n smokes up with donghyuck for the first time.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: smut! high smut!, drugs, explicit descriptions of being high, no condom (wrap ur willy b4 things get silly) it's actually kind of cute. like. idk

a/n: ins. by moonlight by kali uchis. a continuation of the wip i posted a few months ago!! i love stoner hyuck so so so so much

“i’ve never seen one of these before,” you say hesitantly, looking down at the item donghyuck holds in his hands now. he’s gently packing uncut leaves into a funnel at the top of it.

“it’s a bubbler,” donghyuck responds, his tongue sticking slightly against the corner of his mouth in focus. “it looks complicated, but i’ll help you through your first pull. then you can start doing it all by yourself.”

when he pulled the contraption out of his bottom drawer, you were certain it was some kind of spray or disinfectant. it’s a cylindrical tube separated into two halves. liquid sloshes around inside of it. there’s a tube that protrudes from the top of it, which you’ve come to gather is where your mouth is supposed to go. the funnel, at the top, is attached to a long straw that reaches down to the bottom of the cylinder.

you told him you wanted to try getting high with him. you didn’t think it’d have this many steps.

“can’t i just start with an edible?” you ask. he laughs, mirthfully.

“edibles’ll fuck you up, babe,�� he responds, sitting up from his spot. “a bubbler’ll hit faster and better than a joint or a gummy.”

you simply nod. he grabs a lighter from his bedside.

“you’re gonna put the tube thing in your mouth, and the second the leaves start smokin’ i want you to take a long pull. i’ll pull the funnel out for ya,” he explains. his knowledge of this kind of stuff that you’d long considered taboo has always been a bit of a turn on.

“mkay,” is all you respond with. he holds the bubbler up, and you carefully wrap your lips around the tip of the pipe. you swear donghyuck mutters a curse to himself at the sight of you.

he flicks at the lighter a few times before it sets aflame, and he lowers it onto the funnel. “alright, start pulling,” he instructs, and you do, until the liquid starts erupting in bubbles. smoke and the scent of weed fills your senses. once the leaves are burnt to ash, he tugs at the funnel and tells you, “breathe it in, baby.”

you do, keeping your mouth shut and inhaling through your nose. once you can’t inhale much more, you huff out the remainder of the smoke from your lungs.

“not a cougher,” he remarks, starting to pack weed into the funnel again. he brings the bubbler to his lips now, and he does the exact same thing you’d just done, except in a much more expert manner. he coughs a bit as the smoke escapes him. “not what i expected.”

he lays down next to you. “how you feelin’?” he asks, noticing your silence.

“you’re hot,” you say dreamily. fuck, he wasn’t wrong about it hitting.

he laughs. “so are you. you’re so fucking cute and innocent sometimes. it almost makes me feel bad.”

“for what?” you ask, furthering his point when you gaze up at him with expectant, glinting eyes, which will no doubt begin to fatten up as the weed slinks into your system.

“for thinkin’ about all of the bad things i would do to you if you’d let me.”

you bat your eyelashes at him, slowly. the words don’t process quickly enough in your head, leading him to laugh softly again.

“’s nothing. don’t worry about it.” he follows after seeing a dumbfounded look on your face. do you really not get the memo?

“hm?” you hum. he turns to look at you. he raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue. “what did you mean?”

“by what?” he says, in practically a whisper. is he greening out, or did your eyes glance over to his lips as used his tongue to wet them?

you take a few deep breaths, letting your staggering thoughts piece together into one coherent sentence. “by… by the bad things. you said that, right? that — that there were bad things you wanna do to me?”

donghyuck feels cornered. he didn’t mean to let the words slip. but as he tries to listen for any fear or disgust in your voice, he finds there is none. only curiosity.

he tries to reply as best he can. “maybe.”

“what do you mean, ‘maybe’?” you laugh, rolling over onto your stomach, inching closer towards him.

you’re looking him dead in the eyes now, finding that his are growing redder and heavier by the minute. so are yours, you feel it—your head is vibrating at a different frequency from your body, and each beat echoes against your flesh like a distant, constant drum.

donghyuck only hopes that your eyes stay on his, and that they don’t travel further down his waist to spot the hard-on growing in his sweatpants.

“i mean,” he starts. but he can’t bring himself to continue. “it’s too hard to explain.”

“well,” you say. you walk your index and middle fingers against the small expanse of the mattress between your body and his, up to his arm. “if you can’t say it,” you lean against your free arm, squishing your face against his bed. your index finger runs a line over the length of his nose, tracing the soft curve. he goes cross-eyed trying to follow your movements. “can’t you just show me?”

his eyes snap to yours when you finally finish your sentence. it makes you giggle, for reasons unbeknownst to you.

lithe fingers wrap tightly around your wrist, holding your hand away from his face. he’s got a slight smile tugging at his lips, at how freely you’re letting him hold you, pull you around.

holy shit, the two of you are high out of your minds.

“you really want me to show you?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in question. you try to tug your hand out of his grasp, but even intoxicated is he leagues stronger than you could likely ever be.

made shy by his tone, you try to hide your face in your arm. you still nod, though. why wouldn’t you?

dragging your wrist away from his face, he brings it down, lazily dragging it across his firm abdomen. using his hand, he flattens yours atop the bulge in his pants. you gasp, slowly. he smiles when you rub your thighs together unconsciously.

“there,” he says, hissing through his teeth as he moves your hand to palm over him. “you get it now, baby?”

“uh-huh,” you mumble, sighing along with him, simply at the feeling of his size under your palm.

“y’know,” he says, softly, watching your expression. your eyes are nearly turning black. “sex feels, like, a million times better when you’re high?”

“really?” you respond, innocently, eagerly. he fights back a whine.

“really,” he repeats, running a hand through his hair. “d’you wanna give it a try w’me?”

he props himself up against his headboard, and you mirror his movements, kneeling up to sit on your ankles. he rids himself of his shirt. you nod.

“lie down, then,” he tells you.

“but you—“ you start, but he presses at your shoulder gently to get you laying on your back.

“we’ll take care of me in a sec’, baby” he says, not skipping a beat as he unbuttons your denim shorts that he’d been waiting, rather impatiently, to get off you.

your mind lags by half a minute, barely noticing how he tugs your shorts off of you, yet you still lift your hips for him.

you don’t know where to look, your view foggy and manipulated by the drug in your system. your eyes finally settle on something, and it’s a few seconds later that you realize it’s donghyuck and his messy head of hair spreading your legs apart.

“wanna feel good,” is all you can say, ending the sentence with a soft giggle. he laughs, too, but you can’t remember why.

“‘m gonna make you feel good, pretty girl,” he says, caressing the fat on the inside of your thighs gently.

he props one leg up against his shoulder, kissing at the skin of your knees. as he does so, his free hand travels from your navel down to your core. he slides an experimental thumb across your slit. he finds your clit as quickly as he can manage, rubbing his thumb in slow, pressurized circles.

the action, as gentle as it is, causes you to arch your back, as waves of pleasure echo from your core up to the tips of your warm fingers, down to your toes.

he continues with his ministrations for a few more seconds, before using his palms to spread your legs as wide as he can.

he frees one hand to tug his dick out of his sweatpants. he’s too lazy to get them off of him — and with the way you seem to be nearly begging for him, he doesn’t see the use of making you wait any longer, anyway.

he spits, letting a wad of spit fall onto his tip, tugging at his dick for a few seconds.

watching him, you decide to follow similarly, sucking two fingers into your mouth and letting your spit coat them, before lowering them to stretch yourself out as best you can. well, at least, before he takes your hands and pushes them away from you.

he prods at your entrance for a few seconds, the only sounds heard in the room being your soft whines and his deep sighs.

he’s right, when he says it feels better high. you realize it when you feel him slowly push into you, his thick length stretching your walls as they do every time—except this time, each stretch, each movement, sends ripples of heat throughout your body as if the motion were happening a million times over, repeatedly, infinitely, within milliseconds of each other.

by the time he bottoms out, there are stars in your eyes. there’s a wanton tingle at the tips of your fingers, gripping at the sheets to find a release. you’re already gasping for air, and he hasn’t even started moving yet.

speaking of which.

“move,” you whine, slapping your palm against the mattress for good measure. “please?”

he looks down at you, chest heaving, eyes tightly shut. “gimme a second,” he pants. “if i go now, i might fucking cum.”

the two of you laugh. he presses another soft kiss against the skin of your knee. “a second, baby. i needa collect myself a bit.”

you nod. “mkay.”

as he gathers himself, he leans down, stretching your leg against your chest (which makes you whine again, no doubt. he does it because it makes you laugh), and presses your face in kisses. ever so slightly, he’ll move, or twitch inside you, and the movement makes you gasp. when you do, you make direct eye contact with him and he gasps with you, as though humoring you. it’s sweet. weirdly enough, a part of him wants to stay in the moment forever.

“okay,” he says, when he pulls away. “good?”

“mhm,” you hum, taking in a deep breath as he begins thrusting shallowly.

he then pulls out, practically to the tip, and thrusts in at a tantalizingly slow pace, letting you feel every ridge and vein as it passes through your gummy walls. he wants to make sure you feel every bit, he wants to make sure that you feel it so well that you remember it once you’re both sober.

he does it again a few times, before his face twitches and he realizes he has a release to chase, too.

keeping one hand on your thigh and the other by your side, he begins thrusting faster, quicker, harder, leading you to let out some of the most heavenly, uninhibited moans he’d ever heard come out of your mouth.

“feel good?” he asks, mid-thrust, sweat forming across his dewy chest.

“mhm,” you sigh, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “like you said, baby.”

“yeah, like i said,” he smiles. “fuck.”

his thrusts grow erratic, and fuck, you feel yourself growing closer, too, clenching more and more around him as if you were trying to keep him there, too.

“m’ coming, hyuck,” you moan out, and he nods simply, grabbing both your thighs and wrapping your legs ‘round his waist. he leans down, placing both hands down on either side of your head, pressing soft kisses to your face.

“you gonna cum?” he asks, and you nod, whining. “go on and touch yourself.”

listening intently, you bring your hand up to wet it with your tongue. donghyuck shakes his head, using his own hand to direct your fingers into his mouth.

he sucks on them for a few seconds, letting his tongue dance between your digits, hearing you moan and whine before pulling them away. he still thrusts, shockingly keeping pace.

“now go,” he instructs. who are you to disagree?

you run your slick fingers down to your core, rubbing circles into your clit, and donghyuck moans out your name.

skin sticks to skin, and the two of you release sounds of pleasure practically in time.

you cum first, your body tensing and arching as you moan and whine a string of expletives along with his name.

he thrusts faster, harder, no longer worrying about your release. he watches you, all fucked out under him, drool passing the corner of your lips, hair mussed up, body dewy from sweat, and he comes with a deep moan.

the two of you stay like that, for a moment, letting the feeling of pleasure wash over the both of you. the high is coming down. you feel a little less floaty, and the sticky sensation that runs down your legs when he pulls out is a little more bothersome than it would have been half an hour ago.

donghyuck leaves the room momentarily, slipping his sweatpants back on to grab some things to clean you up. he walks back in to see you staring dreamily at the ceiling, twiddling with your hair. he laughs softly.

“how do you feel, baby?” he asks, propping you onto his lap.

he looks down at you, and you up at him, red eyes and all. “good.” you respond.

“really good?”

“really good. can we do that again?”

he laughs. “again? yeah, i mean, i’m free tomorrow—“

“no, i mean, like, now.”

donghyuck looks at you incredulously. “see, now i don’t know. is this for the ridiculously good sex? or is it for my weed?”

exaggerating, you purse your lips in thought, humming. “the weed. definitely. the sex comes second.”

#donghyuck my pookiebear #i need more stoner hyuck in my life frfr #nct smut #nct #nct dream smut #nct dream #nct dream x reader #haechan smut #haechan x reader #lee haechan smut #donghyuck #lee donghyuck #lee donghyuck smut #haechan hard hours #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #yeonghosins writes

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starlightkun · 3 months

Text

❧ word count: 17.4k ❧ warnings: cursing ❧ genre: fluff, some mild angst, model jeno, journalist reader, reader is lowkey a bit of a jerk for some of it but for understandable reasons ❧ extra info: this is a reworked version of an old fic of mine that was about a former member. since i still really love the fic, i’ve made some (heavy) edits to re-release it about jeno instead. you can consider this the spiritual successor/an alternate universe to my sleepless cinderella series

You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?

You felt absolutely pathetic. You were a journalist at a rather popular magazine, and your editor had finally entrusted you with a centerfold spot. So far, your word document for your article had less than a handful of words: your name. Writer’s block, and with only two months until copies were supposed to hit the shelves.

And so here you were, sitting on the small couch in your boss’ office, trying not to sound like you were whining to her. But you needed some sort of guidance. Ms. Zhang was sat on the other end of the couch from you, legs crossed, and round frames perched on the end of her nose as she thoughtfully listened to your rant.

Her voice was casual as she simply replied with, “Anything new in your life, Y/N?”

Which was a complete non-sequitur from your desperate plea for a subject. She really just wanted to make small talk while you were having an existential crisis?

Stunned, you blinked for a moment before answering, “Uh, not much. My roommate made me go out to this party a while ago.”

“That’s nice. Did you have fun?”

You were still completely unsure of why she wasn’t addressing your issue, but went along with it, nonetheless, “I guess.”

“Meet anyone?”

“Kind of. Seven someones, technically.”

“Oh?”

Realizing how that sounded, you grimaced to yourself before giving your boss an explanation of the actual situation. Your roommate NingNing had dragged you to the grand opening of a new nightclub, which she got an invite to thanks to her huge social media following. She was possibly the only actually down-to-Earth influencer you’d ever met—and you’d met plenty, thanks to her. The two of you had been friends since you were kids, before you entered into completely different lives as adults. You had a 9 to 5 while she was being paid insane amounts of money by luxury brands just to post a single photo of herself with their product.

The nightclub of course had a VIP section at the back, which NingNing was easily given access to, as well as you, her plus-one. It was there that you were introduced to Mark Lee, an up and coming young actor with a practically cult following online; Huang Renjun, an extremely popular video game streamer and YouTuber; Lee Jeno, an actual supermodel whose visage was across some of the biggest billboards in the city; Haechan, a pop star that you didn’t dare address by anything other than his stage name; Na Jaemin, another streamer and YouTuber who had recently been picked up for a modeling contract; Zhong Chenle, heir to the Zhong family fortune, whose family was involved in anything and everything to do with the entertainment industry and owned the nightclub; and Park Jisung, an influencer more in the same vein as NingNing, with millions of Instagram followers. Apparently, you had made a good enough impression that Chenle gave you your own pass to the VIP lounge—NingNing of course had her own, too.

At the end of your story, Ms. Zhang had a worryingly knowing smile across her lips, “You met seven celebrities in one night?”

“Do influencers and streamers really count as celebrities?”

“You met seven very popular men—three or four of whom are certifiable celebrities—in one night, have access to a private lounge they all frequent, and you still don’t have a subject for your article?”

Your jaw may have dropped slightly as you realized this. Immediately, your face turned hot as you refused the idea, “I don’t want to exploit them and make them uncomfortable somewhere that’s supposed to be free from that kind of stuff.”

She frowned as she shook her head, “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. I thought you understood that journalism isn’t inherently exploitative.”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not—”

“Are you going to publish horrible rumors and tabloid things with private information they don’t want to be out there? Is that what we do here?”

“No, but they’re all going to think that’s what I’ll do.”

“Show them those assumptions are wrong. It’s all in the way you carry yourself. If you are honest and humble and make them feel comfortable, they should have no reason to doubt what kind of journalist you are.”

At this point, you felt like melting into the pinstriped couch cushions in shame. You shouldn’t have doubted your boss’ vision for her magazine or demeaned your own career. And now you’d made Ms. Zhang disappointed in you. You would’ve preferred her to have yelled at you.

All that was left was to make her proud.

Three days later and you still hadn’t returned to the lounge.

Honestly, you were just being a chicken. And a procrastinator. A procrastinating chicken.

Slumped into your armchair in your living room, you blankly zoned off into the distance as you listened to your playlist through an earbud. NingNing was perched on your kitchen table, feet swinging off the side as she edited some photos on her phone.

As she tapped away, you found your gaze fixating on the visage on the cover of a magazine that had been resting on your coffee table. Squinting your eyes curiously and tilting your head to the side, you asked, “He kind of looks like a dog, right?”

“Who?” Your roommate raised a concerned eyebrow as she peered over her phone screen at you.

“Lee Jeno.” You held up the magazine. “He kind of looks like a dog. Right?”

Your friend squinted at the cover then gave you that same look, “No, he doesn’t. Y/N, I think the sleep deprivation has finally gotten to you. You’re delirious.”

“No, I swear, he looks like a dog,” you insisted, pulling your earbud out to be able to better argue your point. “A very specific kind of dog, God, it’s on the tip of my tongue.”

“He doesn’t.”

You crossed your arms. “I bet the others would agree with me.”

“You want to go ask them?” She challenged. “Jisung texted me saying they were all going to be there again tonight.”

“If that’s what’ll convince you.”

“I have been begging you to go back for weeks, and now you’ve agreed to go back to ask them if they agree that Jeno looks like a dog?” NingNing scoffed incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, fine, you weirdo. Be ready to leave at midnight.”

When you arrived at the club, you immediately felt out of place again. You clung onto NingNing’s arm tightly as she confidently led the way through the crowd to the VIP lounge. She flashed a smile and her VIP pass to the bouncer outside the room, who nodded and stepped aside. As soon as the two of you entered the small room that consisted of one large rounded booth, you immediately regretted your decision. When NingNing said that everyone would be there, your brain hadn’t pieced together that ‘everyone’ included Lee Jeno, who perked up with interest as the two of you walked in.

Jeno eyed you curiously, an eyebrow raised, “So you came back.”

“Y/N has something really important to ask you guys,” NingNing announced, gesturing to you pointedly.

You felt like a deer in the headlights as all of them turned to look at you. Swallowing thickly, you avoided looking at Jeno as you tried to think of anything else to say.

“Sit down, let’s get you a drink first,” Jaemin kindly saved you, gesturing to the open space at the end of the booth seat.

NingNing sat down next to Mark, who had previously been at the end, and you scooted in after her. The circular table unfortunately made it so that you were looking directly at Jeno, who you couldn’t help but sneak glances at as your brain still stubbornly tried to remember what breed of dog he reminded you of. Another round was brought out for everyone, and you gratefully started sipping on yours.

It was when he smiled up at the waiter as he was handed his drink that it finally hit you. You had to bite down on your lip not to cry out in victory.

Chenle looked at you over his sunglasses—yes he was wearing sunglasses indoors at night, as he had been last time. He asked, “So what is this really important thing you have to ask us?”

You looked at NingNing desperately, but she just gave you a deliberate nod.

“Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fine.”

With a gulp, you gathered your courage to just fucking say it and get it over with. You still wanted to be right. “Okay, think about it really hard before you answer.”

They all nodded in assent, anticipating your question.

Taking a deep breath, you finally asked, “Doesn’t Jeno kind of look like a Samoyed?”

A couple of them seemed concerned for your mental state. The rest pondered your question whole-heartedly, brows furrowed as they studied the model. Jeno had a look of pure bewilderment on his face.

Finally, Haechan gasped, “Oh my God you’re right.”

“Thank you!” You sighed victoriously, looking over at NingNing smugly.

Jisung fervently searched something on his phone, eyes widening in shock, “Now that you’ve said that I can’t unsee it.”

“What? Let me see.” Chenle yanked the phone out of Jisung’s hand, holding a picture of a fluffy white Samoyed up to Jeno’s face.

The model tilted his head to the side in confusion, perfectly mimicking the picture on-screen. Chenle burst into loud, cackling laughter.

“Shit, he-he does!” Renjun declared between his own laughs.

Murmurs of agreement erupted around the table, and you were now fully vindicated. “Thank you! Thank you! NingNing didn’t agree with me so I had to come and—”

“No, I did,” she snickered. “It was just the only way to get you to come back. You’re a whole different person when you think you’re right.”

You tried to glare at her, but you were much too ecstatic at being proven right to really be all that mad.

Jeno looked about to open his mouth as Chenle giggled incessantly and started swiping through more search results of Samoyed pictures. A horrible sense of dread covered you like scalding candle wax. It was hot against your skin, thick, and you felt like you couldn’t move or breathe. You prayed to every deity you could think of that Jeno had a really good sense of humor and wouldn’t take offense to someone he had met twice saying he looked like a dog.

When Jeno’s gaze finally focused on you, you swore you had never wished to turn invisible more in your life than in that moment. Or make time stop. Or wake up and realize it was a dream. Anything to get you out of this situation. But you were absolutely petrified, all excitement from before completely eradicated from your being.

Then suddenly all tension was gone from the air as his eyes crinkled into crescents and his mouth parted wide to let out hearty guffaws.

You looked around in alarm, waiting for the hidden camera to be revealed or something. This couldn’t be real.

He managed to contain his laughter enough to choke out between chuckles, “That’s— that's really, really funny.”

Your wide eyes were focused incredulously on him as he caught his breath. Still with a grin on his face, he continued, “Oh my god, seriously that was fucking funny. I’m a cute Samoyed, right, Y/N?”

Utterly speechless. That’s what you were. And also staring at him, completely dumbfounded.

“I think you broke her, Jeno,” Renjun snickered, reaching a fist out as if he were about to knock on your forehead like a front door.

Instinctually, you smacked his hand away from your head, a scowl overtaking your features, “I’m fine, Renjun.”

“Then why can’t you look him in the eye?”

You pointed to yourself, “Normal person—” then to Jeno, “supermodel. I’m still not used to that.”

But Renjun was right, you couldn’t look Jeno in the eye, and your whole body was practically on fire. Honestly, how were you supposed to react to this situation? With grace and comfort? No way.

“What? Seriously?” Jeno scoffed, standing up from the booth to pointedly sit on your side of it. Directly next to you.

“I’m not that— Y/N, really? You’re actually scooting away from me?”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d shifted the opposite direction from him, pressed into NingNing’s side. Meanwhile, the others were all finding this spectacle absolutely hilarious, sharing annoying snickers and giggles.

Your face was burning, and despite your satisfaction at being vindicated, you were now regretting coming to the club at all.

“Can you guys stop? You don’t have to be so annoying,” Jeno scolded his friends, much to both yours and their surprise.

Haechan had a look of mild offense and disbelief across his face, “Being annoying comes as natural to us as being ridiculously attractive comes to you.”

“Speak for yourself!” Jaemin slapped Haechan’s arm as Chenle was practically howling with laughter.

While they were distracted among themselves, Jeno’s attention was focused back on you. If you could look him in the eye, you’d be able to appreciate the genuine concern held within them. But you couldn’t, so all you could do was hear the genuine concern in his voice as he said quietly, “Sorry about them.”

“You don’t need to apologize for them,” you reassured him, messing with your fingernails.

“Anyway, I can’t stand having you be terrified of me.”

“I’ll get over it,” you cleared the audible squeak out of your throat, “eventually.”

“Eventually...” Jeno didn’t seem satisfied with that qualifier you added at the end. “Are you busy today?”

“Uhm— I don’t know. Why?”

“We should hang out.”

“What?”

“The more you’re around me, the less scary I’m going to be to you. Right?”

“I guess.”

“Then we should start right now.”

Your throat nearly closed up at this suggestion. Especially because you realized that the room was dead silent. The others had ceased their squabbling and side conversations and were awaiting your response to this too.

So you did the thing that came most naturally to you: procrastinated the issue.

“Oh, well, it’s already after midnight—”

“Then tomorrow.”

“I’m going to be super busy for a while, I just got a really big assignment at work—”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a journalist. Just got centerfold and it’s going to make or break my whole career so it’s going to take up all of my time for the foreseeable future, so...”

Jeno was unfazed, “What’s the topic?”

“I-uh it’s...” you couldn’t even bullshit an answer at this point, your stupid tongue tripping over itself. “I don’t have one yet.”

NingNing just had to offer up her opinion right then, “Do it on Jeno!”

If you were a lesser person, you'd have strangled NingNing in that moment, because the model’s features lit up. He clearly liked this idea.

“Yeah! I would love to. If it’ll fit your guidelines or whatever, of course.”

You sighed, “It does...”

The socially anxious part of you absolutely hated this idea. But, the journalist part of you knew it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Gritting your teeth, you managed to look Lee Jeno dead in the eye and say, “I would love to interview you, Jeno. Thank you.”

“Uhm, Jeno?” Jisung speaking up stopped the wide grin that was spreading across his friend’s face. “Aren’t you like, banned from interviews or something?”

“Technically,” Jeno answered dismissively, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Technically?” You echoed in confusion. Were you just being messed with?

“Something… happened with the last in-depth interview I did a while ago,” he admitted sheepishly. “But! I’ll talk to my manager and get it cleared, I promise, Y/N!”

[jeno: manager han gave the okay for the interview! when can we get started?]

Your stomach contorted itself at the message that just popped up on your phone screen. Last night you’d left the lounge with a growing sense of dread and anxiety. And Jeno’s phone number.

[jeno: i have a fitting this afternoon but i'll be done in time to get dinner]

[jeno: if that works for you, of course]

[jeno: we can always start it another day, whatever is good for you!]

[jeno: do you want me to send you my schedule for the next few weeks to make it easier for us to get together?]

Your phone’s continuous buzzing with enthusiastic and sincerely kind messages from him caught the attention of NingNing, whose feet were currently resting on your lap as you shared your couch together.

“When did you get so popular?” She questioned teasingly, peering at you over her own phone screen.

“It's just one person,” you informed her.

“Who texts you that much in a row other than me?”

“Lee Jeno, apparently.”

“Y/N, you seem very unenthusiastic about this,” she declared with a thoughtful frown, completely abandoning her phone. “Isn’t this a really big break for you?”

“I’m still a little shocked,” you admitted. “And scared.”

She shoved you with her foot. “Well at least text him back.”

“Right.”

Not a great idea to leave him on read.

[you: a copy of your schedule would be great]

[you: and yes, i can do dinner tonight]

It was less than a minute later that he replied.

[jeno: here’s my schedule]

[jeno: attached image]

[jeno: and could you give me your address so i can drive you to dinner tonight? the place i have in mind is kind of hard to find if you haven’t been before]

A lot was happening right now. Too much for you to process. Good thing there was another brain in this room to help you process it.

“Hey, NingNIng?” You got her attention before thrusting your phone screen towards her so she could read the texts.

“Uh, three options here.” She pointed to a new finger for each one as she listed them off: “He’s ridiculously excited about this interview; he likes you; or he’s going to kill you.”

“So far the last one seems most likely.”

With a shake of your head, you sent him your address.

Your fingers anxiously tapped along your bouncing knee as you waited on your couch for the text from Jeno that he was here. He told you that the restaurant was just casual, but you weren’t sure that a model’s idea of casual wear was the same as yours.

Jeez, what were you doing? Getting dinner with and interviewing one of the most well-known models in the country? You were so out of your depth here.

A buzz came from your other hand that was tightly gripping your phone. An incoming call from Jeno. Maybe he was calling to cancel, and you could just keep rescheduling until you both gave up on the whole idea and you never showed your face in that VIP lounge again.

Answering it, your voice squeaked as you attempted to give him a casual, “Hello.”

“Hey, Y/N!” The bright voice of Lee Jeno came through your speakers. “I’m just parking now, I’ll be up in a couple minutes.”

“You don’t have to come up!” You told him a little too forcefully and quickly. Having Lee Jeno in your apartment would just be too much.

“I don’t mind—”

You leapt up from your couch and rushed towards your door, “Too late, I’m already on my way down.”

With a sharp hit of your thumb, you hung up. Pressing the down button on the elevator impatiently, you prayed that Jeno would just give up and wait in his car.

He didn’t.

The elevator doors opened to the lobby, with Jeno right outside them. In fact, you nearly slammed right into his chest, but thankfully he took a step back before you could actually collide.

His ‘woah!’ was muffled slightly by the dark face mask over his mouth, accompanying dark baseball somewhat successfully obscuring his identity. As long as you didn’t look too closely, he could be any other guy.

“I told you I’d just come down on my own.” You shook your head at him, eyes trained on your shoes.

“And I told you that I’d come up and get you,” he shot back smugly. “Seems like neither of us listen very well.”

With no response coming from you, Jeno took your silence as the cue to lead the way out to his car. It was nice, nicer than most cars you’d seen around, but surprisingly not that ostentatious. It looked like something a moderately successful businessman would drive, not an A-list model.

Inside was a comfortable leather interior, and you took quick, short notes on the small notepad you kept with you as you looked around. After all, this was an interview, and you had an article to write. You could get over your own social awkwardness and feelings of inferiority for the sake of your future career.

Hopefully.

The restaurant Jeno had chosen was definitely out-of-the way.

It was down one back alley into another, through the back of an electronics shop, up a flight of stairs, then through a room of old ladies sat at sewing machines. They all gave a friendly chorus of hellos to the two of you, seeming to know Jeno pretty well as they all told him that he’d grown since the last time he’d come by. He bowed to them bashfully as he led you through. Past the curtains on the far wall, you finally ended up at the restaurant.

Okay, out-of-the-way was an understatement.

But despite the hard-to-stumble-upon location of the restaurant, it seemed busy. The small room was tightly packed with tables that you could barely see through the mass of people seated around them and plates of food resting atop them. A loud buzz of various conversations mixed in with the bumping of plates and clattering of utensils.

Just past the entrance was a small host’s stand where a young boy stood. He looked to not be out of high school yet, presumably a young relative of the owners: their son, nephew, or grandson.

He also knew Jeno, bowing to him, “Ah, Mr. Lee. We have your reservation for you. Come.”

Jeno bowed back and looked to make sure that you were still following the two of them through the nearly claustrophobic environment.

You were, eyes drinking in every detail as your hand furiously scribbled them down on your notepad, muscle memory functioning at full speed to write every letter without looking away from the scene around you. There was one more curtain for you to go through, and it was much quieter on the other side. This was most likely a VIP section of sorts, with just a couple tables separated by a divider.

The host gestured to one of the two tables, and you gratefully sat down across from Jeno. He then took his hat and mask off, fingers working through his hair for a moment to rid it of the hat’s aftereffects.

“Thank you, Yeonwoo,” he thanked the host, which you repeated as well.

The boy, who you now knew to be named Yeonwoo, bowed politely to the both of you before scurrying off.

“You must come here often,” you commented, hand poised to write his response.

“My family and I came here a lot when I was younger. Since I started my career it’s been difficult to eat here as often as I did before. Especially because their food isn’t technically allowed in my diet,” he had a mischievous glint in his eye as then he added, “But you won’t tell on me, right?”

“Of course not, unless writing an article about you that will be published in a magazine counts as tattling,” you snorted, much to his delight.

He laughed, “Right, right. That’s pretty much the ultimate form of tattling, huh?”

“If it gets published, yeah. If not, then the only people who will know will be you, me, and my editor. And I suppose Yeonwoo and our server, as well.”

“Speaking of our server, there she is!” Jeno announced, making the young girl who was approaching your table blush behind her notepad. She was probably around Yeonwoo’s age, maybe a little older.

“Good evening,” she greeted the two of you politely. “My name is Jieun, I’ll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order?”

You were a bit confused by her question, you hadn’t been given any menus yet. But Jeno seemed completely unfazed.

“Two orders of my regular, please,” he requested sweetly, which she quickly scribbled down on her pad.

“Of course, it’ll be out soon,” she informed you before hurrying away.

He turned back to you, “Jieun is Yeonwoo’s older cousin, their grandparents own the restaurant.”

You added this to your notes as well. It could be nice to add in to set the scene and show how down-to-Earth Jeno was, knowing this family as well as his own and not forgetting his roots even as a big model. Or something like that, you’d figure it out eventually.

“So, interview questions?” He prompted you, bringing you out of your contemplative planning ahead. You’d write that up later.

“Earlier you had mentioned your family, tell me a bit about them. Brothers, sisters?”

Could you have looked that information up online and found it? Definitely, but you wanted it from the source, to see if he would provide you with anything that wasn’t already out there. And you wanted to get a feel of your subject.

“Well there’s my parents, my older sister, and me. They’re not famous or anything. My parents own a grocery store nearby, and my sister’s a teacher.”

“You took my next question right out of my mouth,” you clicked your tongue in teasing disappointment, continuing on with a different one. “You said you used to come here often with your family, what are some other things you miss from your childhood that you don’t do as often?”

Jeno’s face easily betrayed his delighted surprise, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that one.”

“Hm?”

“That’s a good question. Normally I get asked about celebrity crushes or my ideal type.”

You tilted your head to the side curiously, “If you thought that I was just going to ask you the same questions you usually get asked, why did you offer for me to interview you?”

“Never mind, never mind, sorry.” He coughed awkwardly, then quickly went to get off that topic, “Uh, it might sound kind of weird, but I used to help out at my parents’ store a lot as a kid. It was my first job I ever had. As soon as I could reach the register on a high stool, they put me to work. It’s actually how I got scouted, for modeling. My manager now just happened to come through my line while I was on the register and gave me his card. I thought it was a scam, honestly. But Jaemin made me give him a call, and he turned out to be legit. Even if I had the time to help at the store now, I’d just be too much of a distraction if I tried. And trust me, I tried. Once. So yeah, I miss helping out there.”

The desire for an answer to your other question was still there, but it was a path that you didn’t want to go down right now. Right now was time for the interview. So you simply scratched down his statement about his parents’ shop, then shorthanded off to the side ‘why me?’ as you readied your next question.

“You knew Jaemin before you guys were famous?”

“Yeah, we’ve been friends forever.” A fond smile crossed Jeno’s face. “Seatmates since primary school. He blew up with streaming first before I got my break as a model, actually. Most people usually assume it’s the other way around.”

“And what about the others?”

As Jeno eagerly answered your questions and you filled up page after page on your notepad, there was still that one lingering in the back of your mind.

Why you?

Over the course of a couple weeks, you’d spent a considerable amount of time with Jeno. According to his schedule that he had sent you, every free moment he got was taken up by your interview. Sometimes it would be more formal, like your first dinner meeting, and sometimes it was more casual, get-togethers in the lounge with the other VIP members or a riverside walk that felt more like two friends talking than a professional interview. And it all went in your notes, it would all go in your article. This was going to be a great article. The real Lee Jeno when he’s relaxed, what he’s like off the runway.

Today was very special, however, as you’d been invited to tag along to one of his photoshoots. You were just outside the building housed at the address you’d been given when you were met by a young man whose stern gaze never left you. It seemed as if he had been waiting for you.

“Are you the journalist?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, completely skipping any greetings.

“Ah yes, Y/L/N Y/N,” you confirmed, nodding your head respectfully to him as you held out your VIP lounge card as proof. Jeno told you that would be your pass to get in.

The man only scrutinized the card for a moment before he pivoted on his heel, “Follow me.”

You kept his hurried pace easily, ready to ask him questions as well, “So what’s your job here?”

He took a moment to push open a door that then nearly closed on you before answering, “I’m Lee Jeno’s PA.”

“Oh, Song Eunseok!” The name easily came to your mind.

The PA’s eyes widened in surprise, “Jeno’s brought me up?”

“Of course he has! You’re with him pretty much all the time, how could he not mention you?” You flipped through your notebook to where you’d taken previous notes about him, “Here, I asked him to walk me through his typical day, and he mentioned ‘Seokkie’ like seven times.”

Eunseok physically grimaced at this, “I’ve requested that he not call me that.”

“Why? I think it’s a cute nickname.”

“Really?” His eyes were now trained on his shoes as opposed to his previous laser focus on the end of the hallway. Your eyes could’ve been playing tricks on you, but you swore the tips of his ears were tinged pink, too.

There was another door, and this time you definitely couldn’t miss the fact that he held it open for you this time.

“Really,” you echoed.

The door had led to what you could really only imagine to be the set. Huge lightboxes, a couple cameras, and a multitude of people all set up with a single black sheet as the focal point. A white loveseat contrasted it starkly, but that wasn’t where your eyes were drawn. They were drawn to the man seated elegantly atop it, dressed head-to-toe like the playboy prince of a small but filthy rich country. Lee Jeno.

“You can wait for him over here with me,” Eunseok tapped your elbow with a feather-light touch, snapping you from your near-trance.

“Thanks.” You walked with him towards a table lined with various food and drink.

Your focus was still on the PA as he got a bottle of water, opened it, took a lemon slice from a small bowl and squeezed it into the drink before plopping a blue straw in as well. Then didn’t drink it. Instead, he turned back to you and held it in his hand patiently.

“The straw disturbs the makeup as little as possible,” Eunseok explained to you, and it was then that you realized it wasn’t for him, it was for Jeno. “Makes the makeup artists’ lives a little bit easier.”

“That’s very considerate. I wouldn’t have even thought of that,” you commented, taking note of that process as your focus returned back to Jeno and the photoshoot.

Knowing that your next question might be considered disrespectful, you leaned closer to Eunseok to whisper, “So who’s the photographer?”

He understood your delicacy, replying back equally quiet, “Chen Man, she’s brilliant. Jeno’s worked with her in the past, but this is his first solo shoot with her. It’s for the new YSL campaign that he was chosen to be the face of.”

And you were rocketed back to the fact that Lee Jeno was a famous model. Obviously, you hadn’t really forgotten it, but in your casual meetings and interviewing outside of his work, the magnitude of it was lessened. But a PA, giant photoshoot, famous photographer, and being selected as the new face of a campaign for a huge designer really hammered in the famous model part.

“Wow.”

It was just then that Chen Man called for a short break, and the silent studio was immediately filled with chatter. Jeno made a beeline for you and Eunseok, his normal contagious grin across his face, “Hey, Y/N! I’m glad you made it here okay.”

Up close, you could appreciate the detail and regality of his outfit. It was made of crushed velvet of a deep cerulean color; various intricate medals flashing on his chest; dark epaulettes making his already broad shoulders even more imposing; large black boots; and silver jewelry and chains glinting on his fingers and neck.

Eunseok offered the water out to Jeno then, and he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks, Eunseok.”

You continued from the model’s earlier statement, “Yeah, Eunseok made sure I got to the right place.”

“Good, I sent him out there to get you.” He turned on his PA, “You didn’t give Y/N a hard time, did you?”

“My job is to make sure none of your insane fans somehow get in here,” the other man scoffed.

“So you did give her a hard time.”

Eunseok rolled his eyes at Jeno’s teasing words. Despite knowing that they were employer-employee, it felt much more like two friends to you. You added that to your notes.

Jeno took a couple big sips of his water, and you took this time to ask him a couple of questions.

“So Eunseok was saying that this shoot is for the new YSL campaign that you’re the face of. Have you ever done something like this before?”

He blinked at you a couple times before actually replying, “Yeah, it’s really an honor and a big opportunity to be chosen for this. I’ve done solo shoots before, but not ones of this magnitude.”

Another figure approached your small group, a makeup artist. Jeno handed his water back to Eunseok before leading the way a little further away to sit in a chair. As the makeup artist attended to his makeup, you continued with the interview.

“How familiar are you with the photographer on this shoot?”

“I’ve worked with Chen Man a few times before—” he paused to let the makeup artist apply his lip color again. After she was done, he continued, “Her ideas are incredible and she’s honestly so wonderful to work with. However, all those other times I was with other models, so doing a solo photoshoot with her is a bit nerve-wracking. She’s the kind of person that you really want to make proud, you know?”

Thinking of Ms. Zhang and her disappointment in you earlier, you nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

There was a call for everyone to start getting back into their places, and you took this as your cue to leave Jeno alone. He had work to do.

The makeup artist did one touch up on his face before letting him up out of the chair, another person coming to his side to fix his hair up just the way they wanted it, walking alongside him awkwardly to do so.

“Take a bunch of notes on your little notepad, Y/N!” Jeno quipped as he walked back in front of the camera.

“Will do!” You affirmed, holding your notebook above your head and shaking it slightly so he could see it.

Returning to your previous spot off to the side with Eunseok, you had a fond smile on your lips from your short interaction with Jeno. Eunseok had a little smirk of his own as he gazed at you.

“And what’s that smile for?” You questioned, head tilted.

“Nothing.”

You elbowed him with a short giggle, “Come on, tell me.”

“No,” he shook his head, that same smile on his lips.

Even as you rolled your eyes, your focus never faltered from Eunseok. You changed tactics, a slight pout on your face as you asked again, “Please, Seokkie?”

Finally, he relented, “You’re pretty special, Y/N.”

“What?” You questioned in pleasant surprise.

“For Manager Han to have approved this interview after what happened last time, Jeno probably begged.”

“I can't imagine what would be so special about me.”

Eunseok had a brightness to his features that you hadn’t seen yet as he replied, “I can.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And what is it?”

Shouts from the set took both your attentions away from each other. Chen Man had been calling directions out during the whole shoot, but never with such aggression as then.

“Jeno! Lee Jeno!”

You scanned the scene in front of you as you tried to figure out what exactly was happening. Jeno’s arms were crossed across his chest, a startlingly stern but calm gaze focused on… you?

“Jeno can you—ugh, fifteen-minute break, everybody!” She yelled out in exasperation, the rest of the crew breaking the silence, scattering from the set.

Chen Man continued addressing her model, “Jeno, your expressions… they’re off.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on them.”

Despite acknowledging her words, you were doubtful of if he had actually registered them, stalking off the set with seemingly one destination in mind.

“Y/N,” Jeno stopped right by you and Eunseok. “Can I speak with you for a second?”

“Of course,” you nodded, well aware of how the crew was only pretending to be busy, instead actually focused on the three of you.

Your subject took off again, and you guessed that he anticipated that you’d follow him. Which you did. Eunseok stayed behind.

His longer legs made it a little hard to keep up with him as he took twists and turns down hallways of the building.

“Jeno,” you breathed out, seeming to finally snap him out of whatever mood he had been in.

Immediately, he slowed down to your pace, a faint smile coming to his lips, “Sorry, long legs.”

“Where are we going?”

He abruptly stopped, “Here is fine.”

It was the middle of some random hallway. He apparently didn’t have an actual destination in mind, more-so a distance.

“So what do you need to talk to me about?” You questioned, pencil and notepad at the ready. It had to be something for the interview, it couldn’t possibly be anything else.

“Y/N…” Jeno reached his hands out to cover yours, gently lowering the pencil and notepad for you. His hands were big and warm on yours, and you felt nerves flare up at his clear insinuation that this wasn’t for the interview.

“Jeno…” you said back with a nervous half-giggle. He was still holding your hands.

“This isn’t part of the interview. I’m not interviewee Jeno, and you’re not interviewer Y/N right now.”

“Okay…”

As soon as you had accepted these terms, he released his feather-light hold on your hands and took his own back to wring them nervously. What could Lee Jeno possibly be nervous about?

“Hm, I’ve never done this before,” he chuckled, pressing a palm to the center of his chest.

“Done what?”

“Okay, I’m just going to be upfront. Uh, I think you’re super great, and pretty, and awesome and I’d really like to be able to take you out on a date some time.”

This had to be a fucking joke. No way that someone who looks like him, an actual model, someone who gets paid for being ridiculously attractive, could actually be asking you out. This had to be a sick, terrible, horrible joke he was playing on you.

And yet as his big brown eyes gazed at you, wide and hopeful, looking a lot like a puppy waiting to be adopted from some animal shelter, you knew that he was being genuine.

And you panicked.

Stuttering for a moment, you finally choked out the most formal and emotionally removed response you could’ve come up with, “I’m sorry, I—that wouldn’t be appropriate, since I’m interviewing you right now. A bias or conflict of interest would damage the integrity of my piece as well as my career.”

Surprisingly, his features didn’t seem as crestfallen as you anticipated, his expressions were always so easy to read. He, in fact, seemed very happy with your reply.

“I get it,” he beamed at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze for a moment before letting it go. “After the article, then.”

That wasn’t what you meant. At all. But between your own burning cheeks and internal state of panic, you couldn’t express this to him. Or even really process your own thoughts right then.

“We should head back, Eunseok will come looking for us soon,” Jeno nodded with his head back in the general direction that you two had come from.

He kept a polite distance from you, allowing some of the panic alarms blaring in your mind to quiet just a bit. You tried to brainstorm ways you could possibly keep this interview going forever. Ways to give you as much time as possible. To do what, exactly? Maybe come up with an actual way of rejecting him. Or maybe give him enough time to change his romantic focus to someone else, so that he would never end up revisiting this subject after the interview.

You could dream.

“Oh my god!” NingNing exclaimed. “Are you shitting me?!”

You’d just recalled your day to your roommate, finally ending at the part where Jeno had asked you on a date. She had literally done a spit-take back into her soda as she smacked your leg in excitement.

Despite still being in disbelief yourself, Jeno had been extremely up-front and clear about it. No room for misinterpretation. Unlike your response to him.

“Well when’s the date?” NingNing squealed, pressing for more information.

“I said no,” you deadpanned.

“What?”

“Well, kind of.”

At the clear grimace on your face, your friend sighed, “Y/N, what did you tell him? Verbatim.”

“I told him that it would be inappropriate right now because a bias or conflict of interest would ruin the integrity of my piece and any career opportunity that came out of it,” you repeated your statement from earlier almost word-for-word, sure that it would be burned into your memory for the rest of your life.

“You do know that he now definitely thinks that you were telling him to just wait until after the article is over, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands and rubbing your face in exasperation.

“You don’t want to go on a date with Jeno?”

“I don’t want to date Lee Jeno,” you confirmed, nodding the head that you were still holding.

“Let me just review the situation here: you’ve got a very sweet, very funny, very hot guy that’s into you. What’s the problem?”

“He’s hot.”

Finally, you’d found it. The real reason you’d said no, the real reason you had a deep pit of dread in your stomach as soon as the words had left Jeno’s mouth hours earlier.

She snorted, “That’s a problem?”

“His entire career is based off being hot, he’s a model,” you explained rather desperately, relieved to finally be able to put your tumultuous thoughts into proper words. “I can’t deal with all that shit that comes with it. I just can’t.”

“So you’ll never want to date him? You’re not going to change your mind?”

“No, never. I couldn’t.”

“Never say never,” NingNing taunted with a sing-song voice, but at your eye-roll, became more serious. “Okay, let’s just say you’ll never date Jeno in your life—despite the fact that nothing is ever definite—you shouldn’t lead him on. Intentional or otherwise. Don’t let him spend the next few weeks thinking that you two are going to date after the article’s over.”

The anxiety was still there, however. “What if he doesn’t actually think that and I just misunderstood him? What if he just naturally gets over me in the next few weeks and doesn’t need me to confront him about this and straight-up reject him? He’s probably never been rejected in his life, what if he doesn’t take it well? What—”

She cut your endless strings of ‘what if’s short, “Y/N, didn’t he say that he’d never done this before?”

Realization hit you straight to the gut. “What if me rejecting him makes him never want to ask anybody else out again for the rest of his life and I scar him permanently?”

Your roommate had a clear look of ‘yikes’ on her face, and pure mortification ran through every inch of you.

“Never mind, there’s no way I could ever have such an impact on Lee Jeno’s life, that’s fucking ridiculous. I’m just some normal person, some journalist, and he’s literally a supermodel. No way this would actually matter to someone like that.”

“Y/N, don’t say stuff like that,” NingNing frowned, pulling some hair away from your face gently. “You matter to me, remember? You’re my best friend.”

Completely ignoring her, you continued, “I just have to be upfront with him, tell him I don’t want to go on a date with him, and be done with it. He’ll probably never think about it again for the rest of his life.”

She let out a sigh as if she were going to say something but thought better of it. You didn’t press her; your mind had been made up.

You couldn’t do it.

The next time you saw Jeno, you had every intention of being upfront. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were an absolute coward. Some part of you didn’t want to tell him, for whatever reason.

Maybe because the way his face absolutely lit up when he saw you was something you’d never seen anybody do for you before. Maybe because he asked you how your day was and didn’t look disinterested in your answer. Maybe because no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that this was a professional interview, he made you feel so at ease that you somehow talked more about yourself than him.

Maybe because you did kind of want to date him.

Your notebook had been completely abandoned about fifteen minutes into your ‘lunch meeting,’ a fact that went mostly unnoticed by you. Until the waiter came with the bill and you had to move it out of the way for him to set it on the tabletop. You’d written just a couple short notes, nothing substantial. That wasn’t an interview, you couldn’t even try to bullshit it to yourself. That was a date-but-not-a-date. And you enjoyed yourself.

As you contemplated over your mostly-blank page, Jeno had already tucked his own card into the pouch and waved the waiter back over. Before you could argue him paying for you, the waiter was halfway across the restaurant.

“Jeno, I can pay for my own food,” you reminded him gently, feeling very much like you were scolding an over-excited puppy that had accidentally knocked over a potted plant in its haste to greet you.

“And I can pay for both of ours,” he countered.

You held his gaze firmly, waiting for him to— there it was.

His mouth split into a sheepish grin as he held up his hands in surrender, “Alright, I get it, I get it. Interview time right now. We’ll split the check for now.”

For now.

Maybe you liked the idea of that.

“Except this one, since they already ran my card,” Jeno added, a victorious smirk on his face, one that had you shaking your head fondly.

“Can I at least tip?”

“Already added that on the receipt.”

“How dare you be so thoughtful and respectful.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a distant chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a cursory glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. Maybe he should have left his mask and hat on, or not chosen a table by the window.

And your heart dropped as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just some cute guy named Lee Jeno, but a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly.

You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t subject yourself to that. It would be too much for you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you collected your notepad and stood up, stiffly bowing to him. “Thank you for allowing me to interview you, Mr. Lee.”

Thankfully, he took your lead, standing and returning your bow, “Of course, thank you as well, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Hopefully the girls got the message that this was business and nothing else. A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life.

The light hum that had been in Ms. Zhang’s throat through most of her reading of your article suddenly changed tone as she came to the ending. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully, and your mind was running wild with nerves as you waited for her to speak.

“It’s good, Y/N,” she started.

You sensed a ‘but’ coming next.

“But… in the very first paragraph you introduce him as model by day, and explorer by night, or something to that effect.”

“Yes, that’s how he and his friends introduced him.”

“But you never bring up his ‘exploring’ again. This is about his life as a model and what he’s like outside of modelling here. You hooked me on the exploring part, but left me ultimately unsatisfied with that point.”

She was right. She was absolutely right. In your own personal whirlwind of confusion about your emotions and wants, you’d left a loose end in your article.

Ms. Zhang continued, her tone rising, “But…”

Oh, another ‘but.’

“This might just be perfect for a sequel. We publish this and advertise it as a two-part look into him, the first part his model by day, and the second part all about him as an explorer.”

You were caught off-guard, “You want to publish it?”

You had honestly expected her to throw it in the trash and fire you. You’d been so all over the place the entire time you’d been working on the article, you didn’t think it was anywhere close to your best work.

“Of course, this is the most hard-hitting and real piece that’s ever been done about the man! Most of it is tabloid nonsense. Not to mention that this is the first interview he’s done in over a year, it’s fresh content. It’s perfect, Y/N.”

Ms. Zhang just called your article perfect. You were on Cloud Nine, barely listening as she continued.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get a second interview with him? Maybe even tag along on one of his exploring trips or something, like how you went to one of his photoshoots in this one?”

That snapped you back into reality. Going on a trip with Jeno? That sounded dicey. But… also a chance to extend the interview, prolong the inevitable: his expectation that you’ll start dating after the interview. Your worst fear.

Avoiding an uncomfortable scenario and making your career out of it? It was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.

“Of course, Ms. Zhang.”

Right as you walked into the VIP lounge, you were met with the expectant face of Jeno. You’d agreed to meet him there on your lunch break, right after your morning meeting with Ms. Zhang, to let him know if she was going to move forward with publishing your article or not. It felt a bit weird being at a nightclub in the middle of the day in your work clothes, but it was one of the more private places to meet with him.

“So?” He asked hopefully. “How’d it go?”

“She’s going to publish it,” you breathed out, still in shock yourself.

Two strong arms were suddenly around you, pulling you into a warm chest that was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Oh my god!” Jeno hugged you tightly. “Congrats, Y/N! I’m so proud of you!”

You hugged him back for a moment, enjoying it more than you should have considering you swore up and down that you weren’t going to let yourself date him. Then you remembered the other half of the conversation, your arms going limp.

“And she wants a second part.”

“That’s great!” He exclaimed, then after another moment, it seemed to have dawned on him. “Oh wait.”

And he let go of you, a particular chill coming to your body as he took a step back from you, declaring, “Professionalism. No bias or conflict of interest.”

You felt bad. You felt so bad. And yet you nodded, “Yeah, it’s still going to have to be like that.”

Maybe forever, if you could swing it just right.

“So… a second part about what, exactly? The article was super great, but I’m not sure how I could be interesting enough for a sequel.”

“Your ‘exploring,’” you explained. “I had mentioned it, but never returned to the topic or expanded on it, so she wants this whole second part to be about your trips and you know… all that stuff. Whatever you get up to when you’re not a model, and when you’re not a regular dude here.”

A rather cheeky grin spread across his face at this, and you didn’t want to know why he was so excited about you not dating, because you had a feeling it would be something awful close to it.

“Well then, what better way to get to know Explorer Jeno than coming with me on my trip to a tropical island next week?”

You were taken aback by both the invite but also by the event itself. After all, Jeno had given you his entire schedule for the past two months, which included next week. And you didn’t remember a trip being anywhere on there.

“Since when have you been going to a tropical island next week?” You asked incredulously.

“Since now.”

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Jeno, you can’t drop everything in your life just to do this. I can wait until whenever your next actual scheduled break is for whatever trip you make then.”

“Yeah, but I can’t wait,” he insisted, a near pout across his features. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, half-mumbling to himself, “I’m calling my manager right now. He owes me vacation days anyway, I’ll just take them early. Make my three-week backpacking trip in Europe next year fifteen days instead. I can’t wait.”

That went straight to your heart, and you felt your chest hurt from the implications of that. He couldn’t wait until he could date you. With every passing moment you felt like a more and more terrible human being. Which you were, you absolutely were just a horrible human being for doing this to him. After all, like you’d said, you were never going to date Lee Jeno.

Right?

One week later and you were in your third airport of the trip, your second layover as you waited for your connecting flight. You’d been in interviewer mode since Jeno had picked you up to head to the first airport that morning. Asking questions, writing answers, asking more questions. There was no room for anything but business on this trip. This article would be the follow-up to your first piece that your boss thought was perfect. So this had to be more perfect than perfect. You wanted to make her proud.

Jeno, surprisingly, was being rather professional too. Other than the slight touch here, an odd phrase there that couldn’t exactly be classified as professional. A brush of your hands as he tried to get your attention, off-handed comment about how cute you were when you were focused taking notes. You’d only remind him that this was a professional article, hoping that he couldn’t see the bashful smile on your lips.

Or even now, he returned from what was supposed to be a quick bathroom break with waters and snacks for the both of you.

“How much do I owe you?” You asked as you accepted the food and drink.

“Nothing.”

You frowned.

“Come on, Y/N,” he sighed in exasperation, cracking open his own water bottle. “I know we’re serious professional interviewing here, but two people doing business together can still be friendly and do nice gestures for each other.”

He was right. He was absolutely right. You were being a jerk for no reason. Well, not for no reason. There was a small voice in your head that hoped that maybe if you pushed him away enough now he would change his mind about wanting to date you, that he’d think you were actually a jerk. And that little voice was apparently wrong. And also a piece of shit. Jeno didn’t deserve that.

“Right, sorry,” you shook your grumpy face off, offering him a smile instead. “Thanks, Jeno.”

He pulled down his face mask to be able to drink the water, and that combined with his inconspicuous baseball cap brought back the idea that he was a famous celebrity who had to cover up his appearance when he went out to avoid being detected. Even in some random foreign country you didn’t know the name of on a layover. If you did actually start dating him, would he have to wear those on your dates? Any time you wanted to spend time together in public? Would you have to start wearing them?

Those were ridiculous thoughts, especially because you were never going to date Lee Jeno.

Right?

On the plane, you halted the interview to allow the two of you to both take naps, already feeling the toll of the heavy travelling you’d done today. And you’d be doing even more soon, as this flight wouldn’t even take you to the island directly, you had to take a ferry from a different island’s airport out to the actual island that was your destination. Then a car ride of some sort from the harbor to wherever you were staying. And based off the clothes Jeno had requested you bring, you’d be getting very in touch with nature on this trip, another exhausting idea.

All for an interview. All for a way to avoid the inevitable.

As you snoozed, not quite asleep yet, you felt Jeno slowly shift in his sleep, his head lolling to the side until it finally found a resting place on your shoulder. Even in his sleep this man completely disregarded professionalism.

But you were too tired to complain, soon falling asleep yourself, with your own head rolling until it finally found a resting place on his.

“So what exactly happened at your last interview that was so bad you were banned from them?”

Your questions continued as soon as you’d left the airport on the island, only halting when you were caught off-guard by Jeno’s choice of transportation: a cream yellow moped. Which you were now on the back of, clinging onto your bag for dear life. Thank God you had packed light like he suggested.

“It’s kind of a long story,” he replied loudly over the wind. “I’ll tell you when we get to the hotel, okay?”

“Fine.”

“We’ve got some tighter turns coming up, you might want to hold on to something actually attached to the moped.”

He didn’t say it, but you knew what he meant. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you then held onto him for dear life as he whipped around the turns. How he could possibly make a moped feel dangerous was truly incredible to you.

“Yeah, that—” he stumbled over a voice crack. “That’s good. Much more secure.”

“This question shouldn’t be a long story: Have you ever driven one of these things before?”

The hotel was small and homey, with so few rooms that the two of you would be sharing one. Jeno had already informed you of that beforehand, having asked for the okay from you, that sharing the room wouldn’t be too unprofessional. While it definitely was, there were no other rooms available, so you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. When he informed you that there were two beds, you finally agreed.

Except it wasn’t two beds, as you found out when you walked in. It was a bed and a pull-out couch. And he’d already claimed the pull-out couch for himself.

“Jeno,” you sighed again as you watched him set his stuff down on the less comfortable option. “This isn’t two beds.”

He shrugged, “We have separate places to sleep, that’s what you were worried about, right?”

Your patience was wearing thin. It was almost annoying how sweet he was. Well, it wasn’t really him being sweet that annoyed you. It was the sneaky ways he liked to do it.

“Jeno…” you repeated his name, trailing off as you waited for him acknowledge you.

He was still messing around with setting up the pull-out couch.

“Jeno, look at me.”

At your request, he immediately did so, the attentiveness catching you off-guard for a moment. But you were determined.

“I don’t like being lied to or tricked. Even if it’s something nice, you know? It’s sweet, but I like to make my own decisions about things. Even things that may seem little to you, like splitting the bill at restaurants, or whether you’re coming up to get me or I’m going down to meet you, or you dropping all your plans to go on some spur-of-the-moment trip, or who’s taking the couch and who’s taking the bed. I’d like a say in the matter, okay?”

He gulped, seeming to really be taking his time to mull over what you were saying. And you did, too. It was another reason that you could never date him. He was a celebrity, he was used to being able to do whatever, to not having to worry about the kinds of things normal people like you had to worry about. The implications of that terrified you. You couldn’t do it.

Finally, he said, “Okay, yeah. I understand. I never really saw it like that, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more thoughtful of how it was making you feel. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

Shit, this dude was way too fucking sweet.

You nodded, mumbling some kind of response to the genuine apology he’d given you.

Clearly as eager to change the topic as you, Jeno spoke up, “So, what was it that you’d asked me on the moped earlier?”

And you were more than happy to revisit that, snatching up your notebook from your bag and sitting on the bed, “What happened at your last interview that caused you to be banned from them?”

“Oh, right,” he physically grimaced at this, rubbing his face with his hands for a moment. “It’s a long story, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ve got plenty of paper.”

Jeno let out a sigh, sitting on the pull-out couch. “No, Y/N. I can tell you, but you can’t write it down, you can’t publish it. I’m sorry to have to ask you this, because I know how dedicated you are to the integrity of your work but… if you’re going to publish it, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry. The others don’t even know the whole story. Jaemin doesn’t know.”

His words struck you differently, hearing the genuine defeat and distress in his voice. With a twinging heart, you tucked your notepad and pencil back into your bag. For someone who had been preaching about professionalism and keeping the integrity of your article, you were really so ready to throw it out for him as soon as he asked, weren’t you?

“I won’t write it down, I won’t tell a soul,” you reassured him, wanting nothing more than to sit down next to him and hold his hand and tell him that everything was okay. But you still clung onto some little semblance of professionalism here. For some fucking reason, when it was getting clearer by the minute that all your resistance would be futile.

Just a glimmer of a smile was across his lips for a moment at your actions before it was taken over by the same pensive face as before, and he started the story.

“It was… oh probably over a year ago now. I was still kind of new to the modelling industry, but it felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. My company toted me around as their rising star and every second I wasn’t at a gig, I was being interviewed by someone. It was a lot, but it was freaking awesome.”

The brightness in his features that had been there as he recalled the earlier days of his career suddenly turned dark at his next words. “Until this one interview. It was for a smaller magazine, and my manager didn’t even know why I wanted to do the interview. But it was a magazine that my mom liked to read, and I wanted her to be able to see her son in it. So I sat down with the interviewer, and it felt like it was going like all my other interviews had gone. And maybe because I wanted to really make a good impression on her, so the article my mom read would be as positive as possible, I accidentally led her on or something like that.”

You tilted your head curiously at this last statement. If it had come from any other hot guy, you might have doubted his actual intentions, but it was Jeno. You knew that he wasn’t only physically attractive but had such a way of being naturally charming and making people feel at ease that it was impossible not to be drawn in by his attractive personality. He didn’t do it on purpose, he was just a genuinely nice guy.

“But afterwards, she asked for my number. I said no. I let her down as easy as I could, and she took it with grace. Or I had thought so until Manager Han and the CEO of my company—who I had never met until this—sat me down in his office and showed me a naked picture of some guy and asked if it was me. You couldn’t see his face, and his build was similar to mine, so I could see how they were doubtful. It wasn’t me, but that didn’t matter. The interviewer had sent those pictures to my company saying that if they didn’t pay her a bunch of money, she would post them online saying they were of me.”

Your eyes widened almost comically at this. You couldn’t believe that someone could actually think of doing something like that, especially to Jeno.

“Now, the company doesn’t take very well to people trying to extort them or threaten their people, so she was taken care of.” After a pause, his eyes shot open comically wide as he shook his head fervently, “Legally, in the legal system, it’s not like my company like killed her or anything, I phrased that very badly.”

A quiet laugh came from your mouth at his backpedaling.

“Anyway, they decided that after that, it would be best for me to not do interviews for a while. I don’t really know what happened to her after the court case, but to my knowledge, she hasn’t bothered us. And I haven’t had an interview since. Until you.”

“Until me,” you echoed, mind reeling from this story.

This interview really meant more to Jeno than you had realized before. You’d incorrectly and selfishly assumed that he was so invested in it just because he liked you. But it was more than that. His last interview had been a disaster, the interviewer threatened to humiliate him publicly, and betrayed him. He had taken a chance on you to be different than that, taken a chance to make you his first interview back after the shit the last one had put him through. You were sure that he was feeling the pressure from his company to make it the best possible return to them ever. And he had entrusted it all with you.

You weren’t sure of how long you’d been sitting in silence for, but it started suffocating you, so you finally choked out, “I’m sorry she did that to you. She’s… a bitch.”

Jeno chuckled, “I guess. I kind of just feel bad for her.”

“I don’t,” you snorted, feeling your blood starting to boil as you thought about it even more. “She tried to ruin your career and reputation because she got rejected. It’s not your fault, Jeno. You didn’t do anything to deserve that. She’s just a bitch.”

While he didn’t outright agree with you, the faint smile on his features was still apparent as he went to stand up, forcing some pep into his tone. “Okay, time for some island exploring. After all, you’re here for Explorer Jeno, right?”

“Right!”

Right?

Being on the island was refreshing. Not only because you’d never been on a trip to a place quite like it before, but just everything felt absolutely perfect. It was the perfect temperature outside, the warm sun being balanced out by a cool breeze that blew through your hair, the water surrounding you was the perfect clear blue, the flora the perfect rich green, and the man with you was… perfect.

You’d given up on trying to keep your fond thoughts of Jeno at bay. He was wonderful, that was undeniable. And as you went around the island together, his baseball cap and face mask left behind in the hotel room, the notion of his fame slipped from your mind. Sure, you were still writing down your observations, small adventures, and pertinent questions you asked him. But you weren’t interviewing Famous Supermodel Jeno right now, you were interviewing Explorer Jeno. And he was someone you could let yourself fall for, even for just a few days on this little island.

After your third day on the island as you signed onto the hotel wifi to transcribe your notes from your notebook to your word document on your laptop, a few email notifications popped up, catching your attention. Reception wasn’t the best, and you had so many other things occupying your focus and time—mainly Jeno—that you rarely checked your phone. Not to mention that before you’d left, you were unsure of if you’d even have cell phone service on the island, so you’d told your friends to email you if they needed anything.

One was an email from NingNing, the short preview of her message that you could see making you shake your head. You were not on a romantic getaway with Jeno.

The next was some flyer from a store advertising their latest sale, which you quickly discarded in favor of opening the one from Ms. Zhang. The person who was literally paying for you to be there right then.

The gist of her email was basically just asking for a status update, a routine check-in to see how your research and interview was coming along. You filled her in on what kind of direction and outline you were thinking of for the article, telling her some of the things you’d done together around the island, framing it as professionally as you could. However, it was very hard to make it business-like, you realized in slight defeat as you reread the email draft to yourself. Maybe you could make it casual-business-friendly-sounding instead. After editing a couple phrases here and there, you read it one more time. Satisfied that you’d made it sound the least like a ‘romantic getaway’ as possible, you hit send.

You had just sent it when Jeno emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed and toweling off his wet hair.

When the two of you had gotten back from wandering the streets and seeing the nightlife of the town, you’d given him first shower of the night, wanting to sort out your notes as soon as possible. You had a lot to move over just from that night alone, especially the moment when Jeno was ordering something from an older street vendor and had suddenly busted out some local dialect he’d picked up from God knows where. And the man knew what he was saying too. Jeno never ceased to amaze you.

“Jeno,” you called his name out from where you sat cross-legged on the bed, laptop with the email still up in front of you.

“Hm?” He hummed in acknowledgement, abandoning his towel in order to run his fingers through his damp hair.

“The way the guys had described your exploring, and the stuff you’d told me to bring made me think it’d be more… rugged than this.”

A handsome, crooked grin split his lips, seeming very delighted at your observation, “And what did the guys tell you?”

“Jaemin and Renjun seemed fearful for my life and told me to be safe; Haechan and Chenle were rather ecstatic and told me to have fun in a tone that made me not want to know their implications; Mark told me to bring plenty of water and a first aid kit; and Jisung… well he didn’t actually say anything but his face said it all.”

“You talked to all the guys about the trip?”

“Not by choice, NingNing brought me to an influencer party with Jisung, Jaemin, and Renjun the other day, and I was summoned to the lounge by Chenle and subsequently ambushed by him, Haechan, and Mark about it.”

“They’re all menaces,” Jeno shook his head fondly. “But don’t worry, I’ve got some plans for us tomorrow.”

“That sounds ominous.”

He giggled.

“So we’re hiking to the top of this volcano?” You summarized what Jeno had just told you, in much fewer words.

“Yep!”

“Then camping near the top, which we may or may not be allowed to do.”

“Yep!”

“Without a guide.”

“I’m your guide, Y/N! I do this kind of stuff all the time, and there’s a trail to follow anyway.”

“Now I know why Jaemin and Renjun feared for my life.”

“They were being dramatic, it’ll be fine.”

“Oh I’m not protesting going, I’ll just make sure to type up my will in the notes app in my phone first.”

“Now you’re being dramatic.”

You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. I won’t write my final will and testament right now.”

“Let’s go!”

Thankfully, you’d taken heed of Mark’s advice to bring extra water. With the amount you were sweating, you would’ve been dehydrated less than an hour in if you weren’t constantly replenishing the lost fluids. It wasn’t an incredibly strenuous or difficult hike. Not a casual stroll, but you were managing. It was just that it was so hot and humid now that you were in the more confined landscape of the trees, you couldn’t tell if more of the moisture was your own sweat or the water hanging in the air and clinging to your skin as you continued through it.

Jeno kept you plenty entertained with stories of his previous (mis)adventures, almost all of which were solo. There were a couple times that he brought along others, but they didn’t go great. One unfortunate happenstance was when he’d dragged Eunseok out white water rafting with him and the poor guy fell out of the raft into freezing cold water. According to Jeno, his PA almost quit right on the spot. Another time, the other VIP lounge members had joined him as a celebration trip after Renjun hit 10 million subscribers. They ran out of water on the second day, Chenle ended up spraining his ankle, and they were ready to commit mutiny before the 48-hour mark, so the trip was concluded early.

“Jeno, it sounds like the people who go exploring with you don’t have a great track record of enjoying themselves,” you pointed out, taking another swig of water.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Y/N?” He countered.

Looking around, you could just make out a peek of blue ocean through the trees, and looking ahead of you, the two of you were more than halfway to the top.

“Yeah, I am. So far. There’s still time for me to sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river.”

He shook his head affectionately at your teasing, “Careful, you’re going to jinx yourself.”

“Old hiking superstition? If you talk about spraining your ankle you will?”

“No, but still. My own little superstition, I guess.”

“Got it. Then I’ll un-jinx myself: I will not sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river on this trip,” you announced loudly to the surrounding forest, earning another fond smile from Jeno accompanied by a soft chuckle.

“There you go.”

“Another five minutes or so and we’ll be at the peak!” Jeno yelled back over his shoulder to you excitedly.

You were a few steps behind him, your legs had been complaining for the greater part of the last thirty minutes. But with this information, you felt reinvigorated, having the end so close bringing a new spark of energy to your tired limbs. You caught up to him, sharing the trail at the wider parts and staying just behind him at the narrower parts.

Finally, you were at the top. And you knew because the trees opened up to a clearing, the leaves and branches giving way to the most incredible sights you could’ve imagined.

“Wow,” you breathed out, turning to get the full view.

From here you could see the whole little town below you, other nearby islands, the forest you had just hiked through, and the vast, glistening blue sea surrounding you. The sun bounced off of the water at the perfect angle to make it look like it was made of diamonds. It was breathtaking. Not to mention that now that you were out of the humid forest, you could once again feel the cool breeze across your heated skin.

A pod of dolphins surfaced briefly, their fins dipping up and down between the calm waves.

“Jeno, dolphins!” You pointed them out to him eagerly, instinctually clutching his arm in excitement. “Did you know that dolphins in the Amazon River are pink because of repeated skin abrasion, and that the males are pinker because they have a lot more interspecies aggression?”

“I think my guide told me something like that, but I was too focused on getting my paddle back from one to really listen to him.”

You turned to him with wide eyes. “You’ve seen them?”

“Yeah, I went to the Amazon last summer. I had to wrestle my paddle back from a rather playful one,” he shrugged, as if it was just a casual little day trip or something. “So you really like dolphins?”

“I did a report for school when I was like 11, some of the info just stuck.”

As you kept watching the dolphins, a smaller one popped up in the middle of the pod. “Oh! A baby! It’s so cute!”

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed with you.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You can’t tell it’s a girl from here!”

Then you looked over at him, realizing that his focus wasn’t on the dolphins, but on you. Mumbling something about professionalism, you let go of his arm, clasping your hands in front of you as you awkwardly looked back out to the sea.

With a victorious smirk on his face—probably enjoying the fact that he was able to fluster you—Jeno took a few steps away from you, yanking his knapsack off his back and grabbing a blanket from it, “Time for a late lunch.”

He laid the blanket out on a flatter part of the terrain, then brought out a small assortment of foods. You sat down with him, eager to dig into the food. With how much your legs hurt from hiking up here, you hadn’t realized that you were starving until he mentioned lunch. Your stomach growled angrily, and you just hoped it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.

Jeno had packed a very nice lunch for you to share. For the most part, you two were quiet, mouths full of food and eyes still drinking in the stunning view of where you were. You turned your phone on to snap a few pictures before shutting it off again. With no charging ports out here, you had to conserve the battery until you were back in the hotel.

“Do you know which island that is?” You asked Jeno, pointing to the one that seemed the closest to you.

“Nope.”

“That one?” You pointed to a different one.

“Nope.”

“This one?” You teasingly pointed at the ground you were sitting on.

Jeno raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Right as you had opened your mouth to say something smartassy back, you pursed your lips in defeat. “Uh, nope.”

He chuckled, capping his water and starting to put the trash and leftover food back into his bag. You followed his lead, standing when he did so he could pack the blanket back up too. Stretching, a few satisfying cracks came from your back, letting go of the tension that had built up from your sitting position that probably wasn’t great for your spine.

“We should head down to the campsite soon,” Jeno informed you quietly as you had gone back to watching the ocean.

He’d told you while you were still at the base that you wouldn’t be camping at the peak, but at another area a little further down the mountain that was a lot safer for sleeping on. You wished you could’ve stayed up here for the rest of your life.

“Can’t we stay and watch the sunset?” Your voice was nearly a soft whine as you resisted leaving so soon. “It’s got to be incredible from up here.”

“I’m sure it is,” he sounded very reluctant to be telling you this. “But we have to set up camp before it gets too dark.”

“A couple more minutes?”

“Yeah, of course.”

After being rather useless in helping Jeno set up your campsite—not for any chivalrous reasons on his part, you were truly just inept at things and did more harm than good when you tried to help—you sat outside the tent with him. The two of you were going to be sharing a tent, which he had asked earlier if that would be okay. You told him it was fine with you.

The blanket previously used for lunch earlier was under the two of you as you sat just outside the tent. The site Jeno had chosen as your campsite was in a rare area where the foliage wasn’t too thick, and you could just make out some of the ocean as the sun set. It wasn’t the picture-perfect sunset you imagined could be seen from the peak, but it was still pretty.

You continued with your interview questions as you looked out towards the water, scrawling down his answers in the fading light. You couldn’t quite see what you were writing, hoping you didn’t just make a bunch of illegible scribbles instead of notes. He spoke again of his trip to the Amazon, saying how he’d like to go back again sometime, and maybe have a better look at the pink river dolphins. The way he said it fostered some implications, a thought in your mid that maybe you could go with him if he did go back. That was a nice thought. And impractical one, but it gave you warm fuzzies nonetheless.

“So, why do you think you like exploring so much?” You asked him after hearing so many stories of all the destinations he’d gone to.

“Who doesn’t like to travel?”

“What you do… it’s not just travelling, it’s not just a vacation. You’re not booked up in five stars hotels in city centers or doing every tacky tourist thing out there. You get at the heart of where you are, you explore it, you don’t just visit it. Why is that?”

“That’s a rather deep question,” he let out a light chuckle, shifting to face you as he closed his eyes, taking a moment to think. “I guess… like you said, I try to get at the heart of the place, not the surface-level stuff everyone else sees. I’ve always had a sort of wanderlust in me. When I was about twelve, I damn near gave my mom a heart attack because I got on a train and wanted to see where it went and ended up fifty miles from home. And now, I don’t know, I guess the stuff everybody else does doesn’t really interest me… the picture that’s painted to tourists of a place isn’t what it actually is, and I want to find out what is. If that makes sense. Did that make sense?”

You swallowed hard, nodding fervently. “Yeah, it did. I completely understand, yeah.”

That’s how he saw the world, and it was beautiful. And maybe you could see it like him; maybe you could look past the picture that’s painted and what everyone else sees to get at the heart.

Up this high, cold started setting in some time long after the sun had finished setting and darkness was all around you, save for the soft glow of the lantern Jeno had going. The temperature wouldn’t drop terribly, but it was cooler than it was during the day, encouraging you to tuck your chilly fingers into the inside of your knees for some warmth.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno frowned, standing up and stepping over to the tent. “I forgot to tell you to bring a jacket, didn’t I?”

“I’m alright, Jeno,” you assured him, but his arm popped back out of the tent holding a couple pieces of clothing.

It was two sweaters, one he offered out to you, the other presumably for himself. You didn’t refuse, which maybe you really should have for professionalism’s sake. Slipping the hoodie over your head then sticking your arms in, you were immediately swallowed up by it. Sure, Jeno was pretty buff, but you were sure this would be oversized even on him.

You didn’t even have to try to pull the sleeves over your hands, sweater paws already there as soon as you’d put it on. Which wasn’t ideal if you wanted to keep writing stuff down for the article.

“I would’ve told you that I’m a human space heater, but I figured this was a little more professional,” he said, heavy implications there.

Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you took it upon yourself to scoot closer to him until your legs and sides were touching, “This is still professional, just two professionals huddling together for warmth.”

“Yeah.”

You were trying to convince yourself more than you were him, knowing that you couldn’t really fool yourself on this one. But damn, you could pretend you did.

It was pretty soon after he’d gotten sweaters for the two of you that Jeno interjected into your conversation, “So when is the article technically over? When you’re done writing it? When your boss okays it? When it’s compiled with the other articles in that issue of the journal? When the copies hit the shelves and its uploaded to the website?”

You let out a shallow breath, knowing what he was really asking. When can the two of you date?

The part of you that was saying ‘never!’ was getting smaller and smaller, and the part of you who just wanted it to be right now was growing bigger and bigger. And yet, for some reason, you were still listening to the little one.

“I don’t know, probably when it’s officially published. You know, when ‘the copies hit the shelves and it’s uploaded to the website.’”

“When do you think that will be?”

“The first one is being published in this month’s issue. So, depending on how fast I get this one written up and proofed, at the earliest next month.”

“And the latest?”

“A couple months. I’m not sure how long Ms. Zhang will want between the two, if she wants to leave the audience in suspense for longer or give them the next part as soon as possible. Probably the first one, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh,” Jeno’s pout that you could see illuminated from the lantern was suddenly split into a wide yawn. “We should go to sleep, we’ve got the climb back down tomorrow.”

You were glad that he had brought it up first. After all, you were pretty tired, but you weren’t about to be the one to end the nice time you were having. Nodding, you stood, taking the lantern in your hand as Jeno folded the blanket back up.

Ducking into the tent, you immediately plopped down onto your sleeping bag, giving Jeno as much room as possible to maneuver his limbs around as he zipped the tent up behind him and set his stuff down in the corner. You put the lantern down at your feet, keeping the area illuminated as you climbed into your sleeping bag and started settling in for the night.

With the covers pulled up to your shoulders and Jeno’s hoodie bunching around your face in a comfortably warm way, you were pretty content to fall asleep then and there. But the light was still on.

Groaning, you looked down towards your feet, glaring at the lantern you knew you’d have to get un-comfy to turn off. Jeno had a small smile on his face as he sat up, “I’ll get it. You ready to turn it off?”

You nodded, your ‘yes’ muffled by the hoodie.

The last thing you saw before complete darkness was Jeno’s soft grin. That was a rather nice image to have in your mind as you drifted off to sleep.

Eyes fluttering awake, the first thing you were aware of was that you were warm. Very warm. Way too warm. One might say that you were currently in a pool of your own sweat. You’d have to wash this hoodie before giving it back to Jeno, it was definitely disgusting.

Speaking of Jeno, he wasn’t in the tent with you, which you noticed as you peeled the somewhat damp sweater off yourself. You took the opportunity to apply some more deodorant and change your short sleeve shirt before shoving your feet back into your shoes. You headed out of the tent, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you did so.

The very last traces of the sunrise were still in the sky from the little that you could see, but it was definitely morning. Looking around, you spotted Jeno standing a little further away from the tent, holding his hand out towards a lower-hanging branch. You wouldn’t have quite been able to reach it yourself, but he could. Perched atop the branch was a bright blue bird, eating right out of his hand. Your eyes widened just a little at this, though you were too tired to be terribly surprised.

Watching him feed the bird for a little longer, you felt your chest swell. His hair was messy, not having fixed his bedhead yet; a peaceful hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; his big, round, eyes watched the bird eat with a certain simple happiness that for some reason had tears threatening to well up in your own.

You opened your mouth to call out to him, but instead a hoarse croak came out, one that made the bird take off in a flurry of blue feathers and fear. Jeno’s head whipped around to look at the source of the noise, you, and a bright grin came to his features.

“Morning, Y/N,” his voice was even deeper from sleep as he greeted you. He didn’t even seem mad that you’d scared off the bird.

As he approached you, the swell in your chest continued to the point where it hurt, and your vision started going blurry from the tears building up. Jeno’s expression changed to one of concern as he seemed to notice your moist eyes the closer that he got.

“Wh—”

You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?

With your hands gripping at his shirt to bring his mouth down to yours, you kissed him like you’d been sick for your whole life and his lips were the cure. All the voices in your head finally shut up, your chest decompressed, and a single tear ran down your face.

He immediately kissed you back, but his hands seemed unsure of what to do, gingerly resting on your arms, featherlight as they hovered there. As if he was afraid that he’d break you, despite the force with which you had crashed your mouth to his.

When you let yourself come back down—and also breathe—you loosened your grip on Jeno’s shirt, releasing him from the slightly hunched position he had been in. Slowly, you brought one of your hands down to wipe away the lone tear.

Jeno was looking at you with a tilted head. “Well, that wasn’t very professional.”

A strangled chuckle escaped your mouth as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Yeah, sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he said softly, a gentle hand coming to cup your cheek, urging you to look back up at him. And when you did, he lightly brushed his lips against yours. A tender ghost of a kiss, one that didn’t last long as Jeno ended it almost as soon as he’d started it.

Opening your eyes, you saw a nearly silly grin spread across his face, precious giggles bubbling up. His smile was contagious, one gracing your mouth as well.

“Is this going to ruin the integrity of your article?” He asked, still smiling down at you. “If you want this to be a thing, of course.”

“I do, I do,” you nodded fervently, a great weight lifted off your soul now that you let yourself admit that. “I’ll tell Ms. Zhang and see what she wants to do about the articles. Until then, we’ve got to lay low.”

“Movie nights,” he immediately surmised.

Quite liking the idea, you agreed, “Yeah, movie nights.”

The doors opened to the VIP lounge, where you had agreed to meet Jeno after your meeting with your boss. It was almost two weeks after you’d returned from what NingNing was now definitely referring to as your ‘romantic getaway,’ which you couldn’t argue. Most of those two weeks was spent by you finalizing your second article, not wanting to tell Ms. Zhang about how that trip had really gone until after you had work to show for it.

Jeno was waiting for you, already standing up and pacing the small room nervously. He seemed more worried about this than you were, despite it really being your career on the line and not his.

You made a beeline to wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest, and he immediately reciprocated it, holding you closely and pecking the crown of your head.

“Hey, how’d it go?” His gentle tone of voice betrayed his assumptions that it was bad.

Bringing your face out of his chest in order to look up at him, you squealed, “She’s still going to publish them!”

“Ah!” He cried out, tightening his grip on you until it was practically bone-crushing. “I knew it! I knew you were just so good she would have to publish your articles.”

You elaborated, practically buzzing with excitement, “Because I kept out the uh, more private details of the trip and focused on you and the trip itself, she says that it ties up the loose end from the first one nicely. Although, she did recommend not going public until after the second article was out.”

“But you won’t get fired if we don’t abide by that recommendation, right?”

“No, I won’t,” you reassured him, happiness fluttering in your chest as he pecked your forehead.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, letting him peck your lips too before you spoke up. “I do think she’s right, though, we should wait a while to go out in public as a couple.”

Jeno clearly didn’t like that idea, sighing in reply, “Why?”

“It’s been less than a month, what if you decide you don’t like me?”

It was meant to be a joke, but he took it seriously, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then finally your mouth, “Impossible.”

After a moment, he relented, “Alright. I waited two months, another one or so shouldn’t be that bad.”

“Actually, she’s publishing the second article in a special edition that’ll come out two weeks after the first, not a month.”

“I can wait three weeks.”

And wait three weeks he did. Three weeks exactly. Twenty-one days after your conversation in the VIP lounge, two days after your second article hit the shelves, Jeno picked you up for your first public date. This time, you let him come up and get you—your roommate wasn’t home to bother you—and he left his hat and face mask at home.

“Hi Jeno,” you greeted him as you opened the door.

“Hi, baby,” he replied, wasting no time in lacing your fingers together as you walked to the elevator.

As soon as you stepped foot out of your apartment building, whatever resolve he had broke down, and he smooched your cheek loudly. You giggled at the gesture, squeezing his hand to let him know that you were okay with it. After all, you’d made the poor guy wait longer than he should have, some PDA was in order.

The date was at a small café a few blocks over, within walking distance. Which you were sure Jeno appreciated, having a longer time to be out in public with you, never once letting go of your hand or without physical contact with you. He had to let everybody know that you were dating, and you didn’t mind. You liked that he was so ecstatic to be dating you.

At the café, you ordered up at a front counter, and the cashier asked, “Together or separate?”

“Together!” Jeno replied brightly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You leaned over to murmur to him, “She means, are we paying together or separate?”

“Together!” He repeated.

Squinting up at him for a moment, you didn’t argue it, letting him take the check for both of you. Although you did take a few crumpled bills out of your wallet to drop into the tip jar. After getting your food, you eagerly dug in, a light and amicable conversation had between bites.

“So you really waited exactly three weeks, huh?” You teased him.

“The second article came out two days ago, I think that’s plenty of time for everyone to read it,” he defended himself.

“It took you five days to read it.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a muffled chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a brief glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. This situation was eerily familiar, déjà vu washing over you.

But this time, you were kind of glad that he had left his mask and hat at home, and that he’d chosen a table by the window.

Because your heart soared as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly, but also a cute, sweet, funny guy named Lee Jeno.

You could do that. You could subject yourself to that. It would be fine as long as you had Jeno with you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you reached a hand out across the table towards him. Thankfully, he took your lead, picking it up before pressing a few tender kisses to your fingers. Hopefully the girls got the message that this was romantic and private, and nothing else.

A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life.

“Jeno?” You called for his attention, ignoring the gaggle of fans outside the window.

“Yes?” He focused on you, squeezing your hand.

“I have a question…”

“I thought the interview was over,” he pouted teasingly.

“It is, I swear.” You lifted your linked hands pointedly. “I just… There’s something that’s kind of been nagging at me, about the interview.”

“Ask away.”

“Why me? Like, I remember at our first interview session, you thought I was just going to ask you all the normal stuff about celebrity crushes and stuff.”

“You remember what I said, about my parents’ shop? How I used to help out there?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“When NingNing brought you to the lounge, and you said that thing about you being a normal person, and me being a supermodel, and how you weren’t comfortable around me because of that, it really hit me. I-I really hated that.”

“Jeno, I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s not your fault,” he insisted. “It’s nobody’s fault, that’s just how it is, how our culture is, or whatever. But I hated that you felt like that around me. Because I didn’t use to be like that. I used to be a normal person, too. And I just thought that if you and I had met a few years ago, when I was working in my parents’ shop or something, I could’ve talked to you like a normal guy, and I would’ve been able to put you at ease and flirt with you like a normal person. Instead of having to do it in the most roundabout way like I did this time.”

You grinned. “Oh, I don’t know, you would’ve still been a stupidly attractive register boy, Jeno. I might’ve been a bit tongue-tied if we had met back then, too.”

“I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

“I guess not,” you clicked your tongue. “Though that would’ve been an even better meet-cute than me saying you looked like a dog.”

“Oh, so we’re not telling that story to our kids?”

“Kids?!” You sputtered out. “When did kids enter the equation here, Lee Jeno?”

“What? Who said that?” He blinked at you innocently.

“At least say the L-word first, jeez.”

“I love you.”

“Christ, I was joking!”

“I wasn’t!”

You shook your head, unable to fight off the smitten grin on your lips. “I love you too, Jeno. You crazy son of a bitch.”

⤷ blog masterlist

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4everhyucks · 1 year

Text

— 12:59AM

cw. somnophilia, overstimulation.

jisung has his fingers wrapped around your neck, his arm draped across your stomach to hold onto you as he thrusts into you from behind. you’re laying entirely on him, your back against his chest. his lips right beside your ear, whispering the filthiest words that you can’t even bear to hear.

“horny bitch.” he spits, “can’t sleep without some dick?”

jisung never fails to make you cum. if anything, you’re the one begging for him to stop making you cum. waking him up in the middle of the night was definitely a bad idea. you were having a night out with your girlfriends and came home drunk, to find your boyfriend spread on the bed, sleeping innocently, you couldn’t help it. immediately throwing your handbag to the side as you take off your clothes, only leaving your bra and panties on.

you climbed onto the bed and pulled his sweatpants down. taking his soft cock into your mouth, while trying to make him hard, you brought your other hand down to your clit, rubbing fast circles. it didn’t take him long to get hard in his sleep, you quickly got up and positioned yourself over his length. one hand holding his base as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. the stretch felt so good, you tipped your head back, shutting your eyes, taking more of him, “haa.. ji-jisung..”

you let out a soft moan when you finally got his whole cock in, planting a palm on his chest. you started to ride him slowly, fondling your breast at the same time, biting on your bottom lip to suppress your whines.

you flinch when you felt warmth on your hips, you looked down at jisung, he was blinking confusedly up at you. “baby..?” he mumbles, voice coming out raspy and deep which made you clench around him, fuck he sounded so hot.

“i-i’m sorry ji—” you stutter, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

jisung hums, rubbing soft circles with his thumb on your hips,“nothing to be sorry about baby.. you were just too horny and had to fuck yourself on my cock while im sleeping hmm?”

you gasp at his words, riding him faster, trying to catch your high. jisung brings his thumb to your clit, flicking it. “f-fuck ‘m s-so close, dont stop— dont stop,” you chant his name like a mantra, jisung has his eyes pinned on you, watching your every expression.

“cum for me,” and that’s all it took for your orgasm to wash over you, legs going weak as jisung held onto you. he didn’t give you any time to rest and he’s already manhandling you to a new position. “my turn.”

—

“enough ji.. no more!” you scream when you feel him sink into you again for god knows how many times. you’re shaking under him, overstimulated and tired. you push at his chest weakly, hoping he’ll be nice enough to let you sleep now, after the multiple times he finished in you. your eyes flicks towards the bedside clock, 4:05AM.

“just one last round, promise.” jisung mumbles so softly you could barely hear him. you find yourself nodding at his words, believing that this will truly be the last round.

#vv writes #jisung smut #park jisung smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct hard hours #jisung hard hours #park jisung hard hours #nct dream hard hours

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hazyhae · 3 months

Text

roomie high | lmk

stoner!roommate!mark -> roommates to ???

summary: looking for a weed-friendly roommate lands you in a living situation with mark lee. you find it harder and harder to mask your attraction to the man, and soon find that weed isn't the only thing you'll be getting high on.

wc: 3.8k 18+ mdni

cw: afab!gn!reader, weed/marijuana use, sex under the influence of weed, unprotected penetrative sex but he pulls out, oral (reader receiving), baby as petname, mark calls reader dude, reader calls mark markie, instigator friend haechan, masturbation, slight voyeurism (mark catches reader mb), multiple orgasms

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when you asked around if any of your friends knew anyone looking for a weed-friendly roommate, you didn’t expect to end up living with mark lee of all people.

you and mark weren’t friends per se, but you weren’t exactly strangers either. you had mutual friends and the two of you always exchanged a wave whenever in the same area, but you’ve never actually talked. you knew his name because of your friends, and you assumed it was the same for him.

what sets you apart is the fact that you’ve been attracted to him since the first time you saw him light up a joint at one of your mutual friend’s hangouts.

you remember the way his eyes never left the person he was talking to as he inhaled, taking a second to let it settle before turning his head to blow it off to the side.

the vision of him engulfed in a hazy cloud of smoke has not since left your mind, wishing you were the person reflected in his glossy eyes.

when you had to find another apartment after your lease ended due to their newly-implemented no-smoking policy, your only criteria for a new roommate was a) not being a murderer and b) weed-friendly.

you had asked your friends at another one of the hangouts, and your loud-mouthed friend haechan knew just the perfect person to ask.

you cringe, remembering how he called mark over with a loud voice. you were face to face with the person you had been admiring for a while, as a potential roommate no less, and haechan’s loud mouth blabbered on about your situation until you made him shut up.

mark lived in a two bedroom apartment, and his old roommate moved in with their partner, so he needed someone to fill the empty room. he was honestly perfect for your situation.

“i mean, i’m cool with it, if you are..?” mark asked, beady eyes staring into yours. you felt like you were dreaming.

“..yeah, we can talk about it after today,” you had responded, chiding yourself for the awkward pause. you needed to find a new place to live fast, and as far as you knew, mark lee was no murderer.

and so you sealed your fate to live with the object of your affections.

if you thought mark was attractive before living together, it’s even harder now to hide your attraction now that you’ve gotten to know him better.

4 months of living together has given you plenty of time to bond, and at some point you do find yourself becoming more comfortable with mark. you find your work schedules align pretty well, so you often end your nights with a meal and a smoke session.

you think back on the first time you smoked together.

“hey dude, uh.. house-warming smoke?” he had asked shyly with his cute lopsided grin after you had finished moving in the last of your things. his eyes were darting around, holding a shoebox you assume held his weed supplies.

never being one to turn down a smoke, you accepted, and it took everything in you not to stare. the way he rolled the joint so quickly with a concentrated face had you questioning your self control. how can someone be so endearing?

weed always does the job of breaking the ice, and after passing back the joint back and forth, you found yourself in comfortable conversation with your new roommate. thus settled your new routine.

as much as you told yourself afterwards to keep it cool, it’s kind of hard now that you see that same sight that made you fall for the man in the first place almost every night in your living room. and now you are the person in his sights.

it’s so easy for you and mark get lost in your high thoughts, and the conversations often go until the late hours of the night. a lot of those nights, the two of you will knock out cold on the couch.

while you think your platonic connection could help you to calm your feelings down, these times you bond with him only lead to the opposite.

everything about mark when he’s high gets you riled up.

his glazed over, hooded eyes, the deep breaths he takes as he lets his high settle, the deep groans that leave him when when he stretches after being sunk into the couch for too long.

it all goes straight to between your legs.

you’re ashamed to admit it, but a lot of the times after mark’s knocked out for the night, you can’t help but stumble into your bed, shoving your hand between your thighs to relieve the ache that is a direct result of mark lee.

it all feels so different when you’re high. your senses are heightened, feeling the pads of your own lubricated fingers running up your slit thinking of the man who made you this wet, wishing it were his fingers instead.

you find that you always cum a little harder when it’s mark on your mind, and after some point, you can cum only thinking about him.

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after another night of smoking and relieving your sexual frustrations after he’s fallen asleep, you feel of twinge of guilt when you wake up to a groggy mark in the living room.

it’s difficult to act like everything’s normal when there’s nothing more you want than for him to stuff you full.

“if you’re making coffee can i also get a cup, please? i’m gonna be fighting for my life at work today..” he asks while still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. he’s just so cute, and you just feel even more ashamed at the not-so-innocent thoughts you constantly have about him.

you head to work for the day, and towards the end of your shift in comes the very friend that got you into this living arrangement.

“so have you fucked your roomie yet?” haechan teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“hyuck, i’m going to need you to stop talking.” you glare at him.

“what?? i’m not the one making goo-goo eyes at mark fucking lee,” haechan snaps back too quickly.

“i swear if you say a fucking word to him, you’re dead.” you start to inch closer to him.

“i’m just trying to support you, my friend. i heard his dick is hu-”

you slap your hands over his mouth. “let’s stop it right there.”

haechan bursts into laughter at your anger, and you want to kick him out but this shift has already drained all your energy.

just as haechan is about to start teasing, you see a very familiar head of blonde hair making its way to you.

“mark?? what are you doing here?” you are surprised to see him at your work place. he’s only been here a couple of times and he always texted you before he would come.

haechan daps up mark, looking between the two of you with a grin.

“i got outta work a little early so i thought i’d come by and we can get take out for dinner on the way home?” as much as you see him at your apartment, something about him coming to get you from work just feels so intimate.

“take out sounds good with me!” haechan butts in a little too happily before you can say anything.

you and mark give him a look. it’s not the first time he’s invited himself over. he’s smiling at the two of you for a moment before laughing again.

“i’m just kidding guys, you should see the looks on your faces.” he turns on his heel to head back to his own apartment. “wouldn’t want to interrupt anything, see you later cuties!”

your friend is gone before either of you can say anything. mark looks confused, and your face burns at haechan’s insinuations that there’s anything going on that he’d be interrupting.

“wha- interrupting? interrupting what?” mark turns to you with a confused face.

even his confusion you find endearing, but you are quick to change the subject. “he’s just being stupid, what do you wanna get for dinner?”

mark nods, chuckling. “hmm i don’t know. what do you want?” he responds, mind trying to settle on a dinner spot.

you. i want you. your thoughts ring.

“let’s get some noodles from down the street, i’ve been craving them.” you push your desires to the back of your mind and get excited at the thought of the comfort food. mark smiles warmly at you.

“sure, it’s on me tonight!” he offers excitedly. your face gets warm.

“thank you, markie.”

“anything for you.” his voice is just a bit too tender for your heart to take.

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at home, the two of you light up before digging into your food, but something about mark today is a little different.

he’s always nice, but he’s going out of his way to be even nicer.

it’s a little too cold in your living room, and he goes to his room to put on a hoodie. to your surprise, he also brings one back for you. when he sees your confused face when he hands it to you, he starts sputtering.

“oh shit, uhh, wait my bad you totally could’ve just gotten one of yours.” you shake your head, feeling grateful and also wanting to seize the opportunity.

“no, i’ll take yours, too lazy to get up. thank you,” you beam at him.

settling into the couch, you’re having trouble lighting the joint, so he puts it in his own mouth, lighting it before holding it up to your lips so you can take a hit.

he doesn’t realize what he’s doing to you, or maybe he does, but you’re too caught up in the feeling of being wrapped in mark’s scent, cuddled into his hoodie as you slowly hotbox the apartment.

it’s a friday night, so you two can smoke as much as you want, having the weekend off. and smoke you do.

as the night progresses, the two of you have made your way through 3 joints, and mark holds his pipe in hand ready to light up a bit more.

you’re honestly both high as shit, and you both know it too. every little thing on the tv is the funniest thing you’ve ever seen, and your noodles are long gone.

you look at mark through hooded lids, admiring how he takes a long drag from his pipe, handing it to you before letting the smoke seep from his lips. you take a hit and set it down.

“i’m about to be glued to this couch for the next 24 hours,” mark drawls out. he readjusts himself on the couch, letting out a sound that’s a borderline moan, and it doesn’t escape your ears.

if only he knew that was the icing on the cake sending you back to your room to take care of the growing aching between your legs. mark slowly dozes off, softly snoring, and you know that’s your cue to escape to bed.

you wobble into your room, the high still fresh and raging as you lazily push your door to close and immediately settle into bed with your hand shoved into your pants.

mark’s smell is still very much so embedded into his hoodie, and it only serves to heighten your imagination.

your mind jumps to a vision of mark and you on the couch, with you bouncing on his cock as he lets out his delicious groans into your ear.

you think of his tender, “anything for you,” from earlier today, and how much of a gentleman he was. it just riles you up more as you insert your fingers into your entrance.

when mark falls asleep after smoking, he’s knocked out cold for the night, so you aren’t worried about him waking up. you think you’re holding your voice back, but your mind is hazy from the weed and your moans are not as quiet as you think.

mark is fast asleep on the couch, but a sudden vibration of his phone laying on top of his chest jolts him awake.

“what the…” he rubs his eyes, moving to get up and go to his room to lay in the comfort of his bed. he’s still so high, and he almost misses a soft cry coming from the direction of your room. almost.

he turns his head to your room, seeing your door slightly open with the warm light from your bedside lamp peaking through. he thinks he’s hearing things until he hears it again.

but it’s not just a cry, it’s the sound of a name.

his name. in your voice.

“m-mark. oh fuck, mark.”

there’s no way what he thinks is going on is happening, but as he approaches the door, his suspicions are not only confirmed by the repetition of his name, but the view of you that comes into his vision.

you’re on your bed, wearing only his hoodie and underwear that currently houses your hand. your legs are spread and your head is thrown back as you moan out his name.

mark’s mouth goes dry, and he immediately feels himself harden. this can’t be a high dream, right? he pinches himself. nope, not a dream.

he swallows thickly as he processes everything going on in front of him. sober mark would be more hesitant, but high mark says fuck it. you’re literally calling out to him.

you don’t even notice your roommate come in until you feel a dip in your bed. you gasp, immediately closing your legs as your head snaps up to make eye contact with the intruder.

you look up to see mark, his eyes intense as they meet yours.

“mark! oh my fucki- get out!” you start to ramble, shocked at this situation. “i swear it’s not what it looks like.. i just-”

“what does it look like, baby?” mark comes closer to you. you immediately stop at his words, mouth opening in shock at the petname. mark continues.

“that you’re getting your pretty little self off while moaning my name? what are you thinking about?” he settles in front of your now curled up form.

“or, who are you thinking about? cause i think i can guess who,” he says lowly, lips forming a slight grin as he peers into your widened eyes.

this isn’t just a product of being high out of your mind, right?

you sit up slightly.

“mark.. you aren’t weirded out?” you ask hesitantly.

“why would i be? in fact, let me show you how i’m feeling.” time seems to slow as mark grabs your hand and leads your hand to his sweats. you gasp as you feel how hard - and big - he is.

“sorry for the interruption, but let’s get back to it? i’d love to give you a hand, baby,” mark backs up, pulling you by the waist until you’re propped on your back atop your pillows. he settles between your legs.

“all wrapped up in my hoodie, just like a present,” mark says lowly, his eyes moving down as he lifts up the bottom of his hoodie to meet your soaked underwear. “is all this for me?”

you’re still in shock, honestly, but even this is a high fever dream, you’re taking full advantage of it.

“it’s all for you, markie,” you manage to let out.

he immediately jumps into action even in his high state, getting on his stomach to go down on you. he doesn’t even bother taking off your underwear. he’s tasting you as your panties get even more soaked, your arousal combining with his spit.

mark uses one hand to move your panties to the side, and you gasp at the direct contact.

“oh god mark, feels too fucking good,” you moan out. your body is already feeling so good from the amount of weed coursing through your blood, but mark’s tongue is sending chills throughout your entire being.

your eyes roll and toes curl at the pleasure, hands coming to grip his hair as he lets the mixture of his spit and your juices flow down his chin onto your bed.

mark buries his nose into your clit, looking up at you, and as if you sense him staring, you look back down to meet his eyes.

the sight of him gripping your thigh with one arm as his other hand works to get you off is something beyond your wildest dreams, and it has you cumming only seconds after locking eyes.

mark stares up at you in wonder, groaning as you throw your head up and let out a cry, legs shaking around his head as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

when he sits back up to admire his work, he swears he could cum then and there. in his sights is you still in his hoodie, eyes teary, panting from the pleasure he gave you, and underwear absolutely soaked.

“fuck, baby, you tasted too good.” he’s so hard it hurts.

as you come down, you look up at him, catching his breath, lips still shiny, and eyes absolutely piercing. the haze of the high is still there, and you both know exactly what needs to come next.

“mark, fuck me, please.”

“…anything for you, baby,” mark replies. he takes off his shirt and sweats, and your hands move to take his hoodie off of you when he stops you.

“no, keep it on. i need to fill you up like this,” he says, tone slightly pleading. if he was already beyond turned on seeing you get off in his hoodie, fucking you in it would be a whole different story.

“condoms?” he asks.

“i’m on the pill, and i haven’t fucked anyone in a really long time,” you reply, getting slightly impatient. you just want to feel him.

mark doesn’t realize it straight away, but he’s so happy to hear that. “me too, baby.”

he lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing his cock up and down your slit to coat himself in your arousal. you moan out at the teasing, still sensitive from earlier.

“stop teasing, need you so bad mark,” you groan. he grins.

“shh, need to take my time stretching you out, baby.” he latches his head onto your entrance, slowly pushing the tip in. just the tip has you seeing stars.

“fuck mark, w-why are you so big..” the stretch burns, but he slowly inches himself in, letting you adjust.

“you’re so t-tight,” he chokes out, teeth clenching as he feels your walls start to engulf him. if he moves too fast, he knows he’ll cum too soon.

as he bottoms out, the two of you moan into each other, his forehead resting on yours as you both feel each other.

“can i kiss you, dude?” mark asks a bit too innocently for the situation you’re in, and your resulting laugh sends a vibration through you that has you both moaning out.

“i can’t believe you just called me dude when your dick is literally inside of me right now, of course you can kiss me,” you give him the okay, and right away his lips are on yours.

the kiss is sluggish yet deep, and he starts to move his hips ever so slightly as he deepens your kiss further. his hips start to pick up more speed gradually, and you separate from his lips as you gasp out.

you’re moaning his name and he’s moaning yours, both of your thoughts unable to form coherently. the only thing you have in mind is each other and how good you both feel.

his hips start to rut into you more desperately, his pelvis hitting your sensitive bud as deep groans leave his throat.

you’re getting lost in the rocking motion, feeling drool leak from the side of your mouth. his cock reaches a place so deep inside of you no other has reached.

mark is also feeling it, mind spinning as his breaths leave him harshly. he’s knows he’s not gonna last long.

“fuck baby, i need you to cum on my cock.” he punctuates his words with his hand resting on your lower stomach as he starts to thumb at your clit.

your eyes shut tight at the feeling, already reaching another high. the band in your stomach tightens and tightens as mark rubs harsh circles in tempo with his quickening thrusts, and in a second the band snaps.

you cum hard around mark, and mark almost has to stop from how tight you’re gripping around him, walls pulsating as you ride out your high. relieved at you finishing and unable to hold back any longer, mark pulls out and finishes, cum landing on the hoodie you’re wearing.

he collapses next to you, and the two of you catch your breath as you come down from both your sex and weed highs.

mark’s too fucked out to realize he came on his own hoodie, but you’re the one to point it out. already feeling your eyes droop with fatigue, you tiredly joke with him.

“markie, you came all over your hoodie, how am i supposed to stay warm tonight?” you hope he’s picking up what you’re trying to say, and luckily he does. he sits up, tugging the hoodie off your form and tossing it to the side.

“nah dude, i can do a better job than that old hoodie.” mark lays back down, gathering you into his arms. you lay your head against his chest tucked under his chin and close your eyes.

both of you have cooled down, and the feeling of his skin on yours is just what you need. the warmth from mark’s body wrapped around you lulls you to start dozing off.

mark calls your name.

“what is it, markie?”

he’s silent for a second before you feel his chin shift atop your head. he’s smiling.

“round 2 in the morning?”

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

thank you for reading!! this is the fastest fic i've written so far so hopefully it's okayy. happy new year!!! ♡ in luv with mark lee rn

-coco :)

#stoner!nct #nct smut #nct dream smut #mark smut #mark lee smut #nct x reader #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #nct 127 smut #coco writes

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neocentral · 10 months

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rating: 18+. mdni.

masterlist

Your arms are tightly wrapped around Jisung’s back, nails grazing his soft skin as you reach for his hair to pull him deeper into your neck. He pants into the crevice, hot puffs and noises of pleasure muffled within it. The movements of his hips are slow and precise, his cock hitting the spot that has you whimpering into his ear and your split thighs trembling around his body fit between the space.

Your eyes open, catching a glimpse of the luxurious headboard and fixtures of light around the room, Jisung’s pale, bare shoulders and soft dark hair, and your hands grasping at any part of him you can reach. You let your eyelids flutter shut, unable to rip your attention from his warmth and the pleasure brought with it. It feels intimate. It has for weeks.

Jisung is a romantic, you knew that before your arrangement had begun. And despite his efforts to deny it, it was clear that nothing had changed. Made even more so by the increasing romantic gestures each time he gave in to his desires. A bouquet of flowers to your favorite takeout and everything in between. Even during the most innocent moments like when he soothingly rubbed your feet or gently tended to your hair, his touches, his glances, his words were tender.

This time was no different. The hotel room is nice, far too nice for a struggling university student like he is to afford, but you said nothing of it as you pushed your way inside, distracting yourself by locking your lips with his and desperately pawing at his hoodie. Jisung let you, swallowing his words and giving in to your touch, relishing in it. His body’s reaction was immediate, skin burning and heart thumping as he followed your lead.

Jisung thrusts harshly as if he senses your wandering mind, forcing a whine from your throat. Gentle sucks trail up the column of your throat as Jisung makes his way up to your mouth. Soft kisses are laid on your lips between hot pants that blend with his the closer you get to your climaxes.

His lithe fingers slither between your sweaty bodies, taking his time approaching your core to savor the feeling of your skin underneath his fingertips. He begins to swirl the flat pads of his digits around your swollen bud in the way he has grown so familiar with. You gasp shakily, the stimulation to your clit and the pounding of his stiff cock in your gummy walls causing you to feel weightless, falling limp with one last scratch down his back.

Your walls spasm around him as you cum, eliciting a groan from the man above you. Jisung uses you mercilessly, abandoning the slow pace he had used during your intimate encounter. You whimper, writhing beneath him as he overstimulates you. Tears fill your waterline and Jisung lays sweet pecks to your face as his body tenses and his thrusts turn sloppy.

He connects his lips with yours again, moaning into your mouth as he stills inside you, grabbing your weak hands and sliding them up the soft sheets.

1K notes · View notes

goldyeokki · 10 months

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𝟏𝟎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ¹⁸⁺

꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓: lee donghyuck, huang renjun, mark lee, osaki shotaro, jung sungchan, uchinaga eri (giselle), ning yi zhuo (ningning)

꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄𝐒: pure crack, a pinch of angst, fluff, smut ꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you and lee donghyuck both get along like oil and water. if it were up to you, you would be going about your days without even breathing in his direction. unfortunately you're in the same friend group and you have to tolerate each other. as handsome or attractive as people claim him to be, you hate his guts. there's so many reasons why you hate him, so why do you get butterflies in your stomach when he's near?

꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 35.5k (i'm so sorry) ꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: [NOT 100% PROOFREAD] social media elements; uni au; enemies to lovers; lots of plot before the porn; semi-slow burn; lots of flashbacks in first half; reader is in denial half the damn time; hyuck is a self-sacrificial idiot; love triangle (?); renhyuck crumbs; sungtaro forever neos; mc is emotionally constipated; mc wears a skirt and makeup; mc is canon attracted to both men and women; bad ex!song mingi; consumption of alcohol; mentions of weed and vapes / unprotected sex; big dick!hyuck; brief mean dom!hyuck; praise; possessiveness; choking; edging; overstimulation; clit spanking; multiple orgasms; mating press; if i missed out any i apologise

꒰ 💬 ꒱ 𝐇𝐔𝐀'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: the first installation of before the last flower blooms is finally out! happy belated birthday to our fullsun hyuck, and i hope everyone enjoys this fic as much as i did when i wrote it (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) a lot of blood, sweat and tears were put into this i think i lost a bit of my sanity ngl

have you ever taken a look at someone and been filled with a compelling urge to shove their smug face into a hot, steaming pile of crap?

that’s how you feel whenever lee donghyuck breathes in your direction.

you would think that being in a big friend group would discourage any feelings of animosity between one another. unfortunately, that is not the case for you and someone whom you want to call your mortal enemy. but it would be a stretch to say that. you have a rather complex relationship with donghyuck.

for the longest time, you’ve both hated each other’s guts yet due to your shared friend group, you’ve learned to tolerate each other and be civil when the time calls for it. sometimes you’re both as thick as thieves, being the culprits for harmless little pranks that your friends often become the unwilling victims of. he is a notorious flirt who can and will flirt with anything that breathes. your friend group (especially renjun and mark) are victims too but when it comes to you, he knows exactly what to say to make your heart skip a beat or render you speechless. you’re convinced that he’s doing it to toy around with you because you’ve never seen him in a relationship, be it casual or serious, for as long as you’ve known him.

but when it’s just the both of you, there are moments when he’ll strip away that obnoxious—dare you say, façade—and you can simply exist. he won’t pick on you like he usually would. sometimes even in the presence of other people, he’ll still actively look out for you. if you could describe his behaviour around you in one word, it’ll be confusing. he edges you and drags you around with a ribbon you don’t recall him ever tying on you and it gets so frustrating when he gets the last laugh.

he’s a massive pain in the ass for sure but there is one thing that you can admit: he doesn’t strike you to be the kind of person who would be malicious to others without reason. you just hate personalities like him.

he’s always strutting around like a proud peacock, acting like he knows something nobody else in the room does. he always finds a way to get under your skin—be it sidling up to you and telling you stupid things with your friend group around or teasing you when it’s just the both of you—but you’d rather be buried six feet under than admit your life would be less entertaining without him around.

you don’t know why lee donghyuck hates you, but of all the reasons that you hate him, you have a hot ten list that he routinely reminds you of every waking second of your life.

#10: EVEN WHEN HE’S QUIET, HE’S STILL THE LOUDEST PERSON IN THE ROOM

there was a party at his fraternity just a couple of months ago. you were the first to arrive along with giselle since class ended early and you weren’t exactly in the mood to study. mark was the one who bribed you both with the promise of bubble tea so of course you didn’t want to disappoint. you came to the conclusion that he didn’t want the first few strings of people to come in and see a party full of testosterone. he had always been thoughtful like that and you’ve admired him for it. it’s no surprise that he’s so well-liked everywhere he goes.

when you arrived, donghyuck was nowhere to be found. it was only mark, renjun, and some others you don’t fully recognise lugging the beer kegs around. both you and giselle offered to help and they gave you towers of plastic cups to plant at every corner of the fraternity possible.

“it feels weirdly quiet without him. i don’t like it.” giselle mumbled just loud enough for you to hear. she was stacking a few more cups on the foldable table that leaned up against the stairs with fruit punch and rows of canned drinks for anyone who didn’t want to drink alcohol. of all the frat houses that you’ve been to, the one that cared most about their partygoers was the alpha neo frat.

you didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. even when there’s music playing through the speakers at a volume loud enough for you to feel the bass in your bones, it’s eerily quiet without his presence. it felt like you were in a horror movie waiting for the killer to surprise you.

“don’t summon the devil, babe.” you chuckled through your nose. you heard her giggle quietly from where she stood and then there was silence.

an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, like the calm before the storm.

from where you were in the kitchen, you had the perfect view of the entrance to the door. you nursed your bubble tea and chewed on the paper straw. it was beginning to get soggy and you were starting to get annoyed. how the hell were you going to chew on the tapioca balls now?

something told you that he was going to appear in a couple of seconds. you kept your eyes on the door, biding your time as you patiently waited for the man of the hour to arrive. at least he had never been tardy.

the front door suddenly threw open. the corners of your lips crack a soft smile. right when you had predicted.

“I’M HERE, PARTY PEO– ah? it’s just you guys . . .”

lee donghyuck came barrelling in with sungchan and shotaro in tow, all carrying more cheap beer. he first spotted giselle and immediately grinned before he made his way over to greet her with bear hugs. “giselle, our pretty girl!” he practically yelled for the whole house to hear. you’re almost sure that the walls were trembling from his voice.

“hi, y/n!” shotaro and sungchan were the first to spot you as you emerged from the kitchen to help them with the beer cans. you waved back at the duo. when you reached for the pack in sungchan’s hands, he raised them above both your heads and you raised an eyebrow. “this one isn’t for the party, it’s for us to start the party.”

“yeah, we figured the frat already got more than enough for half the campus and then some,” shotaro mused. well, they’re not wrong. with an amused laugh, you gestured to the kitchen.

“alright, let’s keep them cool in the fridge first while we wait for the rest of the gang to come in.”

shortly after the remainder of your friend group had arrived, everyone gathered in a circle in the living room with a beer can in hand. some force in the universe had placed you in between donghyuck and renjun—two best friends with absolutely opposite personalities. damn, your luck was shit.

everyone took their time (see: a quick five seconds) to get ready to shotgun their beer before the party started. you weren’t exactly the best at it but you weren’t going to ask the loser on your right to help out. when you struggled to punch a hole, donghyuck quietly took your can and passed you his freshly punched one with a sigh of faux annoyance.

“c’mon, y/n. we shotgun beers every time we party!” he complained out loud which naturally gathered a few pairs of eyes to land on you both. you wanted to be embarrassed but you’re too occupied processing the fact that he had performed a selfless act . . . of sorts. you rolled your eyes and glared at him when he attempted to give you a tutorial on how to punch a hole in a beer can. “this is how you do it, babe. if you can’t do it, you can always ask for the handsome and charming hyuckie to help you out!” ooh, you really want to sock his stupidly handsome face that very moment.

wait. handsome? no. he’s not handsome. he’s attractive, yeah, but not to you.

fuck. keep it together, dude.

“shut up, it’s not like i do this every other day unlike you, dumbass!” your brows creased and you were tempted to smack the back of his head but you held yourself back. instead, you simply scoffed and attempted to look away.

“just take my can, since i’m your greatest friend in the whole wide world and you looooove me.” donghyuck made it a point to quite literally push his face close to yours. in the dim multi-coloured lighting of the common space you’ve all gathered at, the glint of his lip ring caught your eye. ever since he had gotten that lip ring a few months ago, you’ve been guilty of staring at it every once in a while. but it’s not like you wanted to! it’s right there. it was right in your face, how could you not stare?!

you sharply turned your head and shoved him away to put some distance between your bodies. he’s such a sneaky brat.

“no you’re not, suck my dick.” you rolled your shoulders back and looked at giselle who stood across you in the circle. she only gave you a pointed look and winked flirtatiously, which very quickly made an amused smile appear on your face.

“okay, okay, are we gonna start or are you two going to keep bickering?” renjun voiced out what everyone else was most likely thinking. you assumed that donghyuck was batting his eyelashes at him or probably doing something weird with his face. “don’t give me that look, donghyuck.”

“it’s my lucky handsome look on my lucky handsome face.” he countered. his best friend sighed quietly through his nose.

“anyway.” you pressed, side-eyeing the smug bastard and forcing the shotgun session to begin.

“this is our final year, kinda started a while back but, whatever.” you began, then looked at sungchan, mark, and ningning who were conveniently lined up next to each other. you smiled softly at the trio. “except for you three. mark started grad school already and our babies ning and channie are still in junior year.”

the fond nicknames rolled off your tongue easily for the two younger members of the friend group. hushed giggles and chuckles lingered in the air, almost with a bittersweet note. everyone knew what it meant for you and the rest of the group. as much as it pained for you to say it, you really don’t want this little ragtag team of weirdos to disband when the bulk of you graduate. renjun is still pursuing grad school afterwards so at least he and mark will still have each other but it’s so up in the air for everyone else. despite it all, you know that your love and bond with one another are strong enough to lead you all back to each other.

“we’ll catch up. just wait for us.” sungchan raised his beer can to you. before you can continue, you were interrupted by none other than—

“(nickname) this is too sad, i’m taking over.” donghyuck cleared his throat obnoxiously and bumped his hip against yours as if telling you to move aside. you exhaled through your nose, hearing renjun quietly snicker to your left as you shifted your position accordingly. “first party of the alpha neo frat, let’s have tons of fun and get shitfaced drunk!”

when everyone was about to cheer in agreement, shotaro cleared his throat so obnoxiously that you feared he was going to cough up his larynx. donghyuck blinked and looked at the male.

“. . . within reason because we have classes tomorrow?” he attempted once again, unsure and obviously not a big fan of the responsible idea. shotaro nodded with a bright, satisfied smile, eyes forming half-crescents as he did. donghyuck whined out loud and began his little complaining rant. “taro, you’re no fun. the uni experience is to walk into 9ams with a hangover and–”

“can’t hear you, we’re shotgunning!” ningning announced and raised her can to her lips. laughter echoed throughout, filling up the space of the common room and also your heart. mark followed suit, cheering before he did, and some of the golden liquid dripped past his lips as he downed his drink.

everyone was putting their beer cans up to follow and you felt compelled to face your side. you looked to your right to meet donghyuck’s gaze. had he been waiting for you? almost always you end up right next to each other during pre-party shotguns and almost always he would offer to shotgun together. you don’t understand why but you couldn’t care enough to want to figure out why.

he raised his can slightly. he didn’t say a single word but you could hear him asking if you wanted to shotgun your beers together. the corners of his lips curled upwards into a hopeful yet cheeky grin, but not before swathing his tongue across his bottom lip. your eye caught the saliva-stained gleam on his lip ring once again and you had to force yourself to drag your gaze back up to his eyes. you really needed to give renjun an earful for dragging him along to the piercing studio.

you nodded and gave him back a sincere smile. the both of you raised your beer cans, bodies facing each other. his eyes were fixed on you and you could feel some form of disturbance in your stomach. why did you feel a little nervous? you met his gaze and lifted your can to your lips, him mirroring your actions. in shared silence, while everyone cheered and celebrated in the background, you shotgunned your drinks together as your eyes were locked on each other.

you’re brought back to the present thanks to a rather violent sneeze that came from your left. you turn to look at giselle who’s wrapped up in a thick blanket. her cheeks and nose are a bright scarlet, eyes watery as she glares at her laptop while furiously typing away.

it’s a busy period for the entire student body. just like everyone, you’re swamped with deadlines and projects. you have a milestone check with your professors for three of your classes in the upcoming week, an exam in two, and a group project to consolidate before its submission that same week.

what you’re looking forward to is the four-week semester break that comes right after. you’re not too big on parties but some cheap beer, messy making out with a hot stranger with alcohol and music buzzing through your veins sounds like the perfect celebration after the stressful weeks that came before.

as a journalism student, you doubt giselle is able to catch that much of a break. you remember her complaining to you about her workload a couple of nights ago. her head was on your lap as you stroked her hair while listening to her. apparently, on top of writing an article, she has a group assignment worth 70% of her grade that requires the entire group to produce a video news story. although she was assigned to a team with no freeloaders, everyone’s ideas keep clashing which is causing a lot of stress and pressure on her as the designated team leader.

“gigi, are you sure you want to continue studying?” shotaro quietly whispers, very clearly concerned. he’s only wearing a t-shirt since he had already given her his hoodie, but anyone can tell he’s ready to run back to his dorm to grab another layer for her if she needs it.

“yeah gi, you look really sick.” you echo his sentiments, tucking locks of your hair behind your ears to get a better look at her. there’s a seat between you two, occupied by your bags and unused books. you lean closer to her over the seat and press the back of your index and middle finger against her neck. she doesn’t feel hot, but she does feel a bit warm. unsatisfied with the results you’d gotten, you press the same fingers against her temple. only then do you feel her temperature rise. “giselle babe, you should rest. you’re burning up a little.”

“don’t worry about me, guys,” she manages a weak smile. she sounds so nasally and you resist the urge to sigh but shotaro doesn’t. “i promise i’m okay. it’s just a bit of a sinus.”

“are you sure?” you cock an eyebrow upward, withdrawing yourself back from her.

“i am, i promise.”

everyone leaves it at that. you’re back to dedicating your attention to your laptop to focus on studying but you very quickly find that you’re unable to.

you feel a prickling sensation—like somebody is staring intently at you, watching your every move like a hawk—and it sends goosebumps rippling all over your arms and the back of your neck. you peel your attention from your screen and let your eyes glaze over the table.

sungchan is buried nose-deep in his arsenal of open textbooks surrounding his laptop, preparing for his mock bar exam that’s coming up in a couple of weeks. the poor law student has the toughest professors and you really feel bad for him. shotaro sits next to him, calmly reading through a biology textbook as he highlights and annotates the text. you’ve always noticed how colourful his learning materials are, flagged with multicoloured tabs at the sides. mark has his eyes glued to his laptop as he types away, headphones blocking out any noise that could tamper with his concentration. ningning is sifting through sheets of notes that look like they came straight from those aesthetic study youtubers you’ve come across online, most likely questioning why on earth she decided to major in psychology.

your gaze finally lands on lee donghyuck.

he has his laptop in front of him, and a notebook on his right. he has notes scribbled down and taking up half the page but his pen is nowhere to be found. you drag your eyes to his face where he’s already looking back at you with that stupid grin of his. the shine of his lip ring underneath the library’s fluorescent lights almost winks at you at the same time he does.

frankly, you don’t understand it at all. you cannot wrap your head around how even in a place where quietude is sacred, he’s the loudest man in the room without even opening that damn mouth of his.

he picks up his phone and begins to type furiously into it. your phone vibrates violently on the desk. should you be curious about what he just sent you? you grab your phone and eye him suspiciously.

of course. of course he would send that.

#9: THE WORST OF HIS INAPPROPRIATE COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS DIRECTED AT YOU

you would do anything to figure out why you’re his victim. he does throw inappropriate comments at others, especially the males in your friend group, but he seems to refuse to err on the side of caution with you. does he forget that you’re both at each other’s throats? you’re sure he doesn’t since you constantly threaten him (albeit, emptily most of the time) in response to his behaviour.

whenever you walk in medium-to-large-sized groups, you find yourself—no—you find donghyuck always gravitating towards wherever you are. you’re often found in the back to make sure nobody gets left behind and sometimes it works out when he ends up on the tail with you. since he has a megaphone for a throat, you’re able to utilise him if there are any issues if he hasn’t already alerted the group.

the problem lies wherein he tends to forget where he is when immersed in a conversation.

countless times there had to be someone to grab him and yank him back into the group because he was straying a little too far or he was somehow caught in a conversation with the person across the street.

“aww, my pancake is so thoughtful!” that is his go-to line when it’s renjun who fishes him back in, followed by a harassment of kisses all over the poor boy’s neck and face, and back hugs.

“is this the part where i call you hyung?” due to mark having a more westernised outlook when it comes to formalities, nobody in the group really calls for him with honorifics. donghyuck likes to abuse that and seize the opportunity in moments like that to make the poor grad student flustered.

“taro, i love you! i know you love me too, what you did is evidence of your undying love for me!” his victim shotaro tends to get tackled, thankfully not to the ground, and you remember having to be the one to pull them both in because a car was coming from the rear.

but you? oh, you’re getting it way worse than any of those combined.

there was once when he was walking backwards while talking your ear off about one of his professors who keeps ignoring his contributions while he’s in class. sungchan and giselle were walking ahead on the walking path, discussing schoolwork since she had some questions to ask him. dear donghyuck on the other hand was on the road, taking advantage of the fact that it was nighttime and there were no vehicles nearby. you tried really hard not to pay attention to him but his voice was too loud to drain out. you really wonder how renjun does it.

a motorcycle sped past. and then another. both of the vehicles maintained a safe distance from him but you weren’t sure about the one further back. the car was coming in close at an almost dangerous speed.

“hyuck.” you warned him sternly, reaching out for him but he’s moving his arms around too wildly and too absorbed in his conversation to notice.

“–and then he just ignored me! like, hello? i have–“

“hyuck.” the car’s getting closer. you’d really hate for this one to get into a car crash. as much as it would most likely be reimbursed since you’re nearby campus grounds, your friend group kinda needs him.

“–i’m a good student! i don’t know why he does it! is it out of spite? does he hate me? does he–“

“god fucking damn it, donghyuck!” pissed off and scared beyond your wits, you quickly grabbed him and violently yanked him onto the walking path. everything happened a little too quickly for your own liking. you don’t know how his reaction time struck faster with you than the damn car.

when he almost tripped over the slight elevation from the road onto the walking path, his weight sent you both crashing down. he wrapped his arms around your waist and quickly flipped your position to cushion your fall and you ended up on top of him instead of the other way round.

the car zoomed past and you heard the echoes of giselle and sungchan running back to catch up to you both. they sounded so distant, though.

you’re hovering above donghyuck, shellshocked as your brain tried to process what the fuck just happened but you’re more focused on the equally stunned expression on his face. his deep onyx eyes searched yours for any semblance of hurt.

you felt his hands gently massage your waist in an attempt to calm you down and you were thankful because it was working but you’re not going to admit that to him. you swear your heart stopped at that moment. it felt impossible to tear your gaze away from him—soft brown hair dishevelled, fear and panic in his eyes, tongue nervously swathing over his bottom lip to coat his lip ring in a thin coat of saliva—he looked . . . vulnerable. unlike how you’d always see him, all cocky and strutting around like he owned the place.

“y/n?” your name came from his mouth in the ghost of a whisper, almost melodic, but you barely registered it until you felt another pair of hands on your arm to pull you up.

“oh my god, y/n, are you okay?!” giselle helped you onto your feet while sungchan helped him out. her soft fingers cupped your face and your gaze was redirected to her. “that driver is so stupid, do they want to die?! ah, seriously . . .”

“yeah, i’m okay. just . . . just a bit shocked.” you nodded, not wanting to worry her at all. her brows creased in concern and you had to give her the best smile you could muster. your fingers wrapped around her wrists and squeezed them gently. “i’ll be okay, i promise. we should check in on hyuck, though.”

you both turn to look at sungchan who was being dramatically hugged by donghyuck. the taller of the two looked at you, silently asking if you were okay and you confirmed it with a nod. you didn’t think it was a situation that was too life-endangering but it was enough to leave you terrified for a while.

when you’ve all finally calmed down, you continue your journey back to the dorms on campus. donghyuck fell into stride with you but he made sure to walk on the path this time, protecting you from the road. he gently bumped his hip against yours to get your attention. giselle and sungchan were back to talking about defamation and lawsuits a few steps ahead of you so you just tuned them out. you’d probably fall asleep if you heard any more.

“you okay?” he mumbled just loud enough for you to hear.

“mhm. you?” you wanted to say that he’s uncharacteristically quiet but you couldn’t exactly blame him.

“i am.” he left it at that for a heartbeat before he draped his arm over your shoulder. and so it began. he sidled up close to you with that annoying grin on his face you wished you could wipe off. “y/n, i didn’t think you were so passionate about me!” his free hand raised to ruffle your hair and god, you really wanted to push him down face-first onto the pavement.

“shut up, dumbass.” you groan when he quite literally pressed your cheeks together, squeezing your shoulders in an exaggerated form of affection.

“ah, y/n, i know i’m super handsome and my charm is sooo irresistible but you can’t fall in love with me! it’s not your brand, y’know.” he continued his onslaught of . . . whatever the fuck he was doing. giselle and sungchan turned to look over their shoulders to make sure that you were both okay. you met their eyes and they chuckled in amusement before they resumed their conversation.

“i think you shouldn’t worry about them too much.” sungchan teased but donghyuck simply pretended that he didn’t hear him.

“you wanna die, is that it?” you scoffed through your nose in disbelief. how the hell was he so quick with such comments? you shoved his arm off of your shoulders and took the opportunity to elbow him in the side. you didn’t even hit him that hard but the dramatic actor in him keeled over while crying to the heavens how you’re being so brash and brutal to him. “you got a death wish, you bastard? why the hell would i want to be with someone as annoying as you?”

“i have my redeeming qualities! i’m the best cook out of all of us! mark can’t even fry eggs!”

“don’t bring mark into this! i swear, i will push you into a river right now.” you’re not mad. why would you be mad? you were just a little ticked off. why would he insinuate that you were going to have feelings for him? he’s such a fucking rascal. you have standards, for fuck’s sake.

donghyuck was back to walking properly and he crossed his arms across his chest, licking his lips and cocking an eyebrow upward as if challenging you.

“oh yeah? if you want to see me all wet, y/n, i can definitely arrange a private show for you.”

an image of him soaked from head to toe, grinning childishly at you as he stood in the rain flashed in your brain. his cotton shirt stuck to his body like a second skin, hair was flat as he walked up to you with that stupid look on his face. you’d never really noticed how sharp his jawline was until you watched the raindrops easily slide down to his chin and onto the ground. nor had you ever really noticed that even though he wasn’t as built as that guy jeno in your class, he still had a decent physique with his toned biceps, chest, and stomach.

your cheeks burned when you realised you had been staring at him all along when that memory made itself present in your mind. defeated and very obviously at a loss for words, you flipped him off.

sometimes you wonder if he just says these kinds of things just to watch you get ticked off. ever since you first met, it has been non-stop terrorising. it doesn’t even matter if you’re alone or in the presence of other people.

you quickly type your response and send it but before you can put your phone down, he’s replying with more to piss you off. you silently scoff through your nose and lift your gaze to him only to find him—yet again—staring back at you.

your heart stopped for a brief second when your brain finally processed his text. he’s always throwing such things your way without warning and you don’t even get a second to answer before he’s moving on.

you would do anything to be able to chuck your phone at his head right now. but given the circumstances, you would all get banned from the library for causing a huge ruckus.

this isn’t the first nor will it be the last time he’s going to say shit like this to you.

immediately you’re yet again reminded of a similar incident that happened a few days earlier.

it’s not like you were dressed up more than usual. you were just trying a different style than usual and it involved more revealing clothing. said clothing was just a strapped black lace bustier top. everything else that you wore matched the top and was relatively normal.

giselle and ningning were obviously supportive of you trying something new, even going the extra mile to go to thrift stores with you after class and hunting shopping spaces online for the right piece. naturally, you modelled for them through facetime before you headed for class and their encouragement gave you more than enough confidence to leave your dorm.

you held your head a little higher than usual, and your steps more confident as you went about your day. your classes ended around noon, and usually, you would meet up with sungchan and giselle to have lunch before studying a bit. you weren’t waiting for compliments from anyone nor did you need any but of course, lee donghyuck had to put himself out there and get underneath your skin.

he was most likely on his way to his frat house. sometimes you’d bump into him if you were unlucky. he knew better than anyone not to sneak up on you from behind (especially after halloween in freshman year) but you’d rather have him do that than yell your name for the entire campus to hear. he’s like a malevolent spirit in the guise of an attractive man-child who thinks fart jokes are funny.

“y/n, are you ignoring me?” he whined out loud and it gained the attention of some passersby who looked towards your direction in brief curiosity or annoyance. he called your name again as he caught up with you before he threw his arm over your shoulders. you have never known if it’s a habit or if he had been doing it on purpose to get under your skin.

“what do you want, hyuck?” you deadpanned, turning your head slightly to look at him while walking. he easily fell into stride with you—as if it’s an action as natural as breathing—and surveys you from head to toe. his silence speaks a thousand words at maximum volume and now you’re suddenly self-conscious.

he walked a couple of steps ahead of you while facing you. his hand gently grabbed onto your forearm, as if he was guiding you somewhere. your brows creased in visible confusion.

“y/n.” he called out your name so sweetly that it almost threw you off-guard. you nodded at him to tell him to continue. for a moment, he didn’t. his dark eyes glazed all over your figure from head to toe, tongue swiping over his lips. the sun’s rays got caught on his silver lip ring and it shone brightly enough to capture your attention for a split second.

he was wearing a maroon button-up shirt with the buttons undone halfway down to reveal the silver cross necklace that always hung loosely around his chest. you would be lying if you said he didn’t look good. he’s attractive and he knows how to highlight his best features.

his eyes finally met yours and truthfully, nothing could have prepared you for what he said next.

“you look really fucking good.” the corners of his lips tugged upwards into a playful, cocky smirk. he winked at you and blew an air kiss before turning his back onto you and walking off. you were frozen in place as he continued his journey to wherever the fuck he was supposed to be. he raised his arm to wave at you but not once did he look back. “see ya for movie night tonight, babe!”

remembering that particular incident had your cheeks burning against your will. forcing yourself back to the present, you rake a hand through your hair and look down at your phone to find new texts from him.

you don’t know if you want to crawl onto the table and choke him or just leave him on read. although the first option sounds great, you know that he would probably pin you down faster than you’d like.

as much as you would hate to admit that he is right, you’ve all been holed up in the library for quite some time. giselle isn’t getting any healthier nor are any of you going to get any more productive. you lick your lips and sigh through your nose. there’s no way around it—everyone needs to stop studying.

#8: LEE DONGHYUCK GETS HIS WAY MORE OFTEN THAN YOU CARE TO ADMIT

you’re not going to lose this fight. there has been one too many times where he gets his way. half the time, he’s whining and using what he calls his ‘undying charm’ against the entire group to get them to bend to his will. that ‘undying charm’ is him using aegyo of all things.

renjun would do anything to get him to stop doing it and it often means giving in against his wishes. sungchan simply enjoys watching donghyuck humiliate himself. shotaro is often torn between liking it and hating it but you don’t blame the guy one bit. mark loves it because he finds it cute for some reason. giselle doesn’t really care for it. ningning films it all for blackmail, but given how he pretty much enjoys doing it, she now vows to convert the footage into meme packs for the group’s perusal.

you’re on the same boat as renjun except you’re not willing to bend and break so the hellspawn can reign supreme.

donghyuck is staring at you yet again, batting his eyelashes and pouting as he shimmies his shoulders slightly. you stare back in mild disgust. he points his chin to the rest of the group, pouting yet again at you and you can hear him whine and beg for you to be the one to suggest stopping.

then, you hear some faint thudding of sneakers against the carpeted library floors. is he stomping his feet?!

when you pretend to drop a pen so that you can see his feet, he’s unabashedly stomping them like a child being refused a new toy. picking up your pen, you rise back into your proper seated position. you’re convinced he’s a man on a mission to get you to break. so far, out of everyone else, you’re the one with the highest success rate of not letting him get his way.

renjun isn’t part of your study session for the day since he had to work with his team members so you’re the only person standing against lee donghyuck’s constant need to be pampered.

you’re not that easily bribed but you’re not sure if you want to count this as a win, either.

donghyuck looks at you with his face aghast as though he just saw a ghost walk right behind you. you simply shrug lamely. if he wants to eat and stop the group study since it’s barely productive for anyone anymore, then he’s the one who says it. you have a feeling that he doesn’t want to be the one to put a halt to the session since sungchan was the one who suggested it. as soft and gentle-looking as the towering man is, he’s dead serious when it comes to studying.

you hear a creak of the wooden study chair before a pen clattering onto a thick book, followed by a soft groan of defeat. your gaze quickly flits over to ningning who is leaning back and balancing her chair on its two hind legs.

“i don’t wanna study anymooooore!” she complains loud enough for the table to hear.

“ning!” shotaro hushes her with a whisper but there’s a wave of relief that washes over him when he realised he’s not the only one done with studying. he gently taps mark’s shoulder and you half-expected the grad student to not notice. mark immediately removes his headphones and blinks, looking at the table like a deer caught in the headlights. “you okay to stop? we’re all kinda brain dead and giselle’s about halfway to becoming one of the zombies from train to busan.”

“am not.” giselle gruffly protests before blowing her nose as quietly as she possibly can.

“yeah, i’ve been vibing to my music since an hour ago.” mark bashfully admits as he hooks his headphones around his neck.

“traitor.” donghyuck huffs.

“let’s pack up and send gigi back to her dorm.” you suggest, already closing your textbooks and laptop. some of the gang (namely giselle, ningning and sungchan) still need to return the library books they used so you took your time. “her dorm room is the biggest out of all of ours so we can just order food and stay with her til she gets knocked out from the cough syrup.”

“that sounds like an amazing idea, y/n.” you gingerly look over at the man who was begging for you to speak first minutes ago. he’s grinning widely at you and wiggling his eyebrows. of course, he got saved by ningning. or was it you who got saved by her?

you pick up your phone and quickly text him.

when you pocket your phone, you don’t even attempt to be subtle as you flipped him off openly. in a childlike fashion, he reciprocates the action.

you help giselle with the books she borrowed and make sure she didn’t get any of her gunk on the poor pages. she looks like a kicked puppy as she cleans up her side of the study desk, tying up the plastic bag that ningning gave her to throw all of her used tissues. you can always count on the psychology student to be ready with the weirdest shit. if you need a hairdryer at that very moment, you’re 70% sure she can provide you with one immediately.

after the large study desk has been cleaned and sanitised, you make your way to leave the library in complete silence. sungchan and shotaro are up ahead while ningning walks closely behind with giselle. that leaves you in the back with mark and your oh-so-beloved donghyuck.

your eyes take some time to adjust to seeing the night sky. you entered the library around two in the blazing afternoon and it’s now seven in the evening with the sun nowhere in sight. everyone is finally out of the suffocating building and you’re able to get a breath of fresh air.

“i want fried chicken!” donghyuck suddenly screams into the night. since you’re right next to him, the sudden announcement startled you to the point you nearly tripped over your own two feet. his voice echoes in the distance for the rest of the universe to hear. maybe aliens will hear his call and abduct him.

“jesus christ, dude.” mark punches his shoulder at the same time ningning whips around to kick him for scaring her.

“you idiot, don’t go around yelling without warning them!” she starts to smack him for a good minute while he whines about the ‘pain’, knowing full well she has the combined strength of two doughnuts.

“i just wanted fried chicken!”

“eat my fists instead, jackass!”

so the both of them continue for a little while longer until ningning finally gets exhausted from exerting the last of her energy. instead of doing anything to stop her, everyone just watches with smiles on their faces. sungchan cheers her on, and shotaro has his phone out filming the whole thing.

you catch his eye and raise an eyebrow.

“for the memories,” he smiles sweetly, eyes forming half-crescents. you want to believe him but you know damn well he can be as big of a troublemaker as donghyuck.

“okay, yeah, now i’m down for some fried chicken.” ningning casually announces after her attempt at beating donghyuck up into a pulp. he stands up straight, stroking his ‘sore’ arm after spending the last couple of minutes bent over. “no fried chicken for gi, though. only warm soup.”

“ugh, you suck.” giselle groans and creates a bigger distance between the both of them by walking sideways but ningning drags her back. the younger girl wraps her arm around giselle’s and sidles up to her lovingly. “i still hate you, ning.”

“you love me.” she dreamily sighs.

everyone falls back in step to make your shared journey to giselle’s dorm before getting dinner.

you’re not sure what had come over donghyuck but he mirrored ningning’s affection with both you and mark, sandwiching himself between both your bodies.

“dude if you scream again without warning–“ mark begins but he immediately gets interrupted.

“i won’t, i promise!” he childishly tries to win the other’s favour. you know that it's a battle that was lost before it even started because the grad student is weirdly weak to donghyuck’s aegyo. “i’ll be a good boy, markie.”

you turn to look at him with an expression of very obvious disgust. when he takes notice, he turns to you and gently bumps his hip against yours.

“is y/n feeling a little neglected? does widdle (nickname) want some lovin’?” he tries to lean in to snuggle into your neck.

“stop it, you’re so gross!” you try your best to push him away but the hold he has on you is firm. you don’t even notice that he had unlinked his arm from mark’s and he’s tickling you to try and get a reaction. you’re not that ticklish but you’re sure that you’re laughing out loud at the absurdity of the situation.

“oh my god, it’s been years since i’ve heard y/n laugh like this.” you hear sungchan exaggerate in the distance. giselle sneezes out loud (enough for her to jump in her spot) and you assume it’s her way of agreeing.

when donghyuck is finally satisfied with his aggression, he breaks away from you with a wide grin. you take a second to catch your breath, huffing as you glare at him.

he’s bathed in the moonlight and fluorescent lights from the street lamps as he walks smugly. you want to be mad at him but you can’t. or maybe you’re not. it feels good to be able to release pent-up energy within you but you’re not exactly happy that it’s him of all people that’s making you laugh. his eyes glint mischievously and so does the silver ring that perches near the corner of his plump lips.

“you’re still gross.” you deadpan.

“say what you waaant,” he drags the last syllable in a sing-song voice. god, you really hate it when he says it like that. you want to choke him for it but you’re sure he’s going to enjoy it. “still made you laugh.” he shrugs, the smug grin not once leaving his face.

you shove him away and stick close to mark instead, who welcomes you with a hearty laugh and a head pat.

all of you arrive safely at her dorm ten minutes later and place your belongings by her study desk. she makes a beeline for her bed before flopping into it, sliding out of her furry indoor slides and burrowing herself underneath the covers. ningning makes herself at home and lies down next to giselle whose incoherent grumbling barely reaches the other girl’s ears. nobody is a stranger to her spacious dorm—it’s the go-to place for hangouts when you’re all too lazy or tired to spend time outdoors.

while everyone settles down in the open space between her bed and study desk, you make your way to the small kitchen to make her some warm honey lemon tea. you don’t remember where you got it from but you’ve always drank honey lemon tea whenever you fell sick. at times when you take care of your sick friends, you always make the drink, even for the worst of them all. there’s a buzz from your phone in your back pocket.

“since when did we order the food already?” you say out loud, free hand grabbing a mug from the dish rack.

“mark texted him while we were walking.” sungchan pops in to grab a canned drink from the fridge. he notices you and the mug you’ve taken and immediately picks up on what’s happening. he grabs something from inside and passes you a half-lemon protected by a beeswax wrap before leaving without another word.

you think nothing of it, sliding your phone into your back pocket so you can continue making the drink. you grab the jar of honey that she keeps in the wall cabinet and upon placing it down on the counter in front of you, you stare at it. one of the reasons why you hate it when any of them are sick is the honey. you will almost always have trouble opening up the jar and closing it properly because half the time, you’re making the tea after a shift at work or some heavy studying.

doesn’t hurt to try, though.

you brace as much strength as possible from your exhausted body and do your best to unscrew the airtight lid. you’re too lazy to boil some water and let the jar sit for like, ten minutes, so using sheer brute force is all that you have left in you.

“tsk, c’mere.” someone’s voice rumbles gently in their chest from behind you. they grab the jar from you and you turn to find donghyuck. within the blink of an eye, the lid pops open and you barely miss the way his biceps bulge under his loose-fitting shirt and the veins that run along his forearms making an appearance. “you could’ve asked someone for help.”

“yeah, yeah.” you wave him off dismissively. he’s the second person to reach into the fridge to grab a drink before he disappears back into the living room, where the main party and one sick person is.

by the time you’re done preparing giselle’s tea, renjun had also arrived with everyone’s dinner. you bring both her tea and samgyetang to her so she can eat with the rest of the group. ningning has since moved to the floor to join everyone so you decide to accompany the ill.

“thanks for the food, ren-jeon!” donghyuck calls out while the chicken gets distributed. shotaro had disappeared into the kitchen to grab the paper plates so chaos reigned for a short while underneath giselle’s roof.

“just for that, you owe me ten dollars for service and delivery fees.” the duo-toned male flips him off.

“what?!” he cries incredulously.

“i take both cash and bank transfers,” renjun states flatly as he makes himself comfortable in the circle. shotaro returns with a stack of paper plates and paper cups to a scene of donghyuck throwing yet another tantrum.

“i wonder when hyuck will ever beat the bratty bottom allegations.” sungchan quietly (not really) comments and it’s more than enough to send the entire dorm into flames.

everyone is shouting and donghyuck is, well, whining, which doesn’t really do anything to help him. not positively, at least. you sit down next to giselle and find sungchan smiling to himself amid the noise.

“guys!” shotaro is torn between laughing and taming everyone down. mark is taking everything in with a huge smile on his face while smacking a very unbothered but smug renjun. “oh my god. sungchan, what have you done?” he mumbles in pure terror.

“everyone shut up before her RA comes in to complain! you know her RA is the worst.” you feel a little bad but you’re laughing too, so you help shotaro with the damage control. your words are more than enough to get the rowdy bunch to quiet down and you puff your chest slightly in pride.

whenever you hang out at giselle’s dorm as a huge group like this, it tends to be risky but since more than half of you are in your graduating year, you don’t really care.

“y/n my saviour!” donghyuck springs from his spot and prances over to you, pulling you into a crushing hug and burying his face into your neck. your heart immediately starts racing a mile a minute. your ears suddenly burn and your throat runs a tad bit too dry at the sudden action. this stupidly natural reaction to skin contact with him always has you barely feeling dizzy at the end of it. you don’t know why, but you hate it. it doesn’t happen with anyone else.

“okay, stop, you know i’m allergic to you.” you gently form some distance between both of your bodies. he huffs in protest but releases you regardless.

you find yourself a seat next to mark with your back against the leg of giselle’s study desk. shotaro and renjun are sitting close to the foot of her bed, while donghyuck sits in front of her bedside table. sungchan sits on the other side of mark, which leaves ningning space between giselle’s thighs since she’s sitting upright on the edge of her mattress.

the last thing you expect is having complaints about exams and assignments as the conversation topic.

almost everyone is studying in different disciplines. ningning studies psychology, giselle studies journalism, sungchan is a law student, renjun and shotaro both study biomedical science, mark studies music, and donghyuck is a computer science student. the boys are all in the same fraternity—alpha neo—and you met the girls through freshman orientation. ningning and giselle came from the same high school so they had already been friends when you first met.

you’re lost in the bubbles of conversation that break away from the main topic, indulging whenever someone asks you something (“y/n, you have prof. moon, right?”) or needs your confirmation (“that ta jaehyun is hot. am i right or am i right?”) on something.

“sungchan, after your mock bar exam, let’s host the biggest party ever.” donghyuck suddenly announces for the whole room to hear. there are some hums and nods of agreement but you’re frowning slightly, mulling it over. he seems to have noticed and quickly adds: “channie’s mock bar is the final exam and nobody else has anything due after the date, right?”

you think long and hard for an answer when it’s already in front of you—no.

“i don’t see why not.” renjun is the first to pipe up and agree. “it’s the end of exam season, we’re letting the summer pass, and then we’re graduating. a pre-celebration of celebrations, if you wanna look at it like that.”

“you’re not wrong,” you twist your lips to the side, nodding. it’s not like you’re going to have to worry about a lot of things after sungchan’s mock bar exam. your summer internship has been contracted so you wouldn’t be entirely jobless the whole time. there’s a couple of weeks’ worth of a window between the day after his mock bar exam and the day your internship begins.

“how big are we talking? if you’re talking cheap beer, you gotta up your game.” ningning takes a sip of her coke.

“we’ll get soju! vodka! we have a running tradition in the alpha neo frat where seniors every year will put money in a safe spot for the incoming seniors to use.” you aren’t at all too impressed or reassured with the explanation that donghyuck had just given you. you cock an unimpressed eyebrow upward at him to make sure he knows it. he catches your eyes and purses his lips in a thin line, glaring at you. “i know we have a lot because i’ve lifted the box before and it’s heavy. no sound of coins, either.”

“oh yeah, i make sure to put in a portion every time i get my paycheque from work.” mark chimes in as a matter of factly. “i don’t think i’ve contributed the most, but i’ve definitely contributed.”

the whole room erupts into a cacophony of “aww!”s and “that’s so sweet!”s, praising the grad student for his selfless deed. it’s obvious that he’s not used to all of the attention so he’s just shyly grinning and hiding his face behind his hands. even you can’t help but coo at how adorable he is when he becomes bashful like this.

“we’re gonna be able to have the best party ever thanks to mark!” shotaro claps his hands in joy.

“i mean, it’s not because of me—” mark begins, only to be interrupted by a very excited donghyuck.

“let’s make sure it’s the biggest party we’ve ever thrown!”

a loud, violent sneeze rips through the room and everyone turns to look at giselle. ningning slowly and gingerly moves towards sungchan and renjun instead.

“how about we make sure that gigi doesn’t die first?”

⠀⠀ ⠀⌒⠀ִ ✧ ﾟ 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪

a few days after that, you find yourself in the campus library yet again. this time, you’re alone in a small cubicle to focus on studying. the last time you studied there, it was pure chaos and of course, it’s all thanks to donghyuck.

a thick book full of material related to your course of study is open right next to your laptop. translucent sticky notes are all over its pages, highlighting important keywords and scribbled-down annotations that would help you recall concepts better. your shoulders are straining after subconsciously curving your spine and turning yourself into a shrimp for the entire forty-five minutes that you were studying. you’ve decided to take a quick fifteen-minute break since you’ve been studying for about three hours in total already.

you roll your shoulders back and get up from your seat to do some quick stretches and relax your body. you’re thankful that you are lucky enough to be able to get this secluded corner in your campus’ busy library. while you’re cornered in and hidden by rows of clean, white bookshelves, you have the perfect view of everyone and anyone who’s on the level beneath you. unfortunately, that also means you’re able to see people doing anything other than studying.

like the girl that’s trying to trap a helpless jeno against a bookshelf. it feels rude to look but sometimes you do enjoy just watching humans be in their natural element. you spot someone else coming in and interrupting the girl from whatever she’s trying to do. curious, you stop stretching and lean in to get a better look.

jeno instinctively reaches out to this person and immediately pulls them flush to his side, even going the extra mile to press a kiss to the person’s temple. a few words are being exchanged, the girl appears to be apologetic and then she walks away. jeno and this mysterious person hug it out but there’s no mistaking the hearts in his eyes as they talk in hushed whispers. when they’re leaving, you notice that they’re practically attached to the hip that it’s a little difficult to see if they’re holding hands or not.

you smile quietly to yourself. jeno’s in the same frat as donghyuck so you know that donghyuck would most likely be up-to-date with all of the happenings with all the frat members. you don’t have a say in it but there are times when he will suddenly blow up your phone with the latest gossip that he’s heard of. you hate it when he does it because not only does it distract you from whatever you’re doing but you end up wanting to hear more because your friend group is too wholesome and full of healthy relationships for any drama.

#7: HE LOVES GOSSIP WAY TOO MUCH

you’re about to return to your station and study when there’s a violent series of buzzes in your back pocket. there’s only one person on this godforsaken planet who wouldn’t be afraid of spam-texting you and it’s none other than lee donghyuck.

you watch your message go from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’, but there’s not a single sign of life from him. did he suddenly fall off the face of earth and die? did aliens appear out of thin air and abduct him? you frown at your text messages with him, scrolling up to your past texts then scrolling back down, half-expecting to see the three dots pop up but there’s none. whatever, he’s probably crossing the road or something.

you return to your seat in your little study corner, ready to continue your productive streak when your phone starts buzzing again. the screen lights up and you see donghyuck’s caller id appear on your screen. you know better than to reject his call so you slide the answer button across and bring your phone to your ear. as soon as your line connects, he’s whisper-yelling your name into your ear.

“you’re not in the library with me, you don’t have to say my name like that, jackass.” you balance your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you reorganise your notes aimlessly, hands itching for something to do as you talk to him.

“how else do you want me to say your name?” he scoffs in disbelief that you had chosen to start the conversation with that. “would you rather i say your name like this?” it’s followed by him lowering his voice as he calls your name, rasp evident and a quiet, teasing chuckle punctuating it. shivers rush down your spine in a quick, teasing flash and your stomach flutters nervously as you blink at your laptop screen, the words swimming aimlessly in your vision.

“don’t do that ever again.” you do your best to deadpan him but your breath hitched just before you had spoken. your voice had definitely betrayed you back there and you’re just glad he didn’t relish in that opportunity to openly embarrass you.

“or what? you’re gonna fall for me?” you can hear him smirk through the line with the light huff at the end. ticked off from his provocation you glare at your laptop screen as if it’s him. you grab your phone and change its position to your other ear as your free hand digs through your bed for your airpods.

“not even for a million dollars.” the words taste bitter on your tongue. why do they? you finally find it at the bottom of the bag and fish it out, quickly plugging your ears. they ding at the successful connection and his voice quickly comes through.

“i didn’t think i’d be worth at least a million to you, babe.” he purrs which unleashes another set of flutters in your stomach and uneasy throbs of your heart. he better be glad you’re not within arm’s length because you’d be throwing hands immediately.

“god, just shut up already. you said you had the juiciest news or something?” you grumble, urging him to change the subject. you prop your phone up against your half-empty water bottle just in case he chooses to switch to video out of nowhere. there are one too many times of that happening while you’re in the middle of a call with him.

“oh, fuck. yes, right! okay, so, remember that really hot TA, jung jaehyun?” he begins with a tremble of excitement lacing his words. you mumble a quiet, “uhuh,” in return as you take a look at your notes to see where you’d last left off. “he made out with a freshman and apparently they got pretty deep into third base.”

“if making out is first base, isn’t third base pretty much fucking?” your question slips from your lips before you can even help yourself and you can hear him scoff incredulously at you on the other side of the line.

“no, my dear y/n. the first base is light kissing. the second base is when you start making out. third base is making out with over-the-clothes action, maybe a little bit of dry-humping . . .” he starts explaining as if you’re someone who’s just entering the world of physical intimacy with another person. “do you need me to teach you or something? i’m free right now if you catch my drift.” you don’t need to see him to know that he’s obnoxiously winking and licking his lips at you.

“suck my dick, hyuck.” you sigh, rolling your eyes. where did you stop again? you swear you noted something down somewhere in the book. regardless, you urge him to continue. “the story? what’s wrong with him making out with a freshman? it’s practically a rite of passage, i made out with this guy who went by ten and another senior then. i can’t remember their name, though.”

“wait, ten? he’s the guy that’s an apprentice at the piercing and tattoo store renjun always goes to!” he gasps. “hold on.” you hear donghyuck struggling on the phone, hands probably busy as he focuses on whatever obstacle he’s facing. your eyes return to your since-abandoned study session. you’ve studied for a little over four hours and you deserve at least a couple hours’ break before you continue. right? yeah. yeah, that sounds good. “i’m home! renjunnie, are we gonna order food?” he most likely has his airpods in too because boy, is he fucking loud. you had to lower your volume so your eardrums wouldn’t rupture.

“do you have fucking trumpets for lungs?” you hiss in slight pain while you start packing up. he giggles out an apology that you know he doesn’t mean at all.

“okay, get ready for the shock factor. ready?” his footsteps are heavy as he races up the carpeted stairs to get to the room that he shares with renjun in the frat house. you made a non-committal noise that tells him to continue while you peel off the translucent sticky notes you’ve used on the pages of the library book. you’d be damned if the library staff found your notes and countless question marks and ‘what the fuck’s written next to paragraphs. you absent-mindedly reach for your bottle, pocketing your phone and taking a sip of water. “the freshman is the prof’s niece.”

why did your brain choose to make you do that at that very moment?

his words take you by complete surprise and you’re choking on the water as it runs down the wrong pipe. your eyes search your laptop and the library books you’ve used for the day and you heave a sigh of relief when nothing is damaged. you want to berate him for not warning you. who the hell says ‘shock factor’ anymore and why did you take a sip of your water?

“oh my god, are you okay?!” you can tell he’s torn between laughing and being concerned for you but he ends up choosing to do the former. your fingers close into a fist and you repeatedly thump it firmly against your chest, coughing and clearing your throat until it doesn’t feel like you just got waterboarded. “y/n, you good?” it’s his turn to cough too but from laughing too hard.

you really ought to get him for this one but it was kind of your fault that you decided to drink water right then and there. whatever—you can blame him still. he doesn’t have to know.

“lee donghyuck, what the fuck?” you want to be mad at him, you genuinely do, but you can’t.

every time he drags you in to gossip about something he’s heard of because a friend of a friend of a friend told them some juicy rumour, you end up getting immersed because of his weirdly captivating storytelling skills. you hate to admit it but even he can spin paint drying into something thrilling and interesting. sometimes he reminds you of the aunties and grandmothers in your family coming together to talk in hushed whispers about things that are happening with their children. you’re confident he’ll fit right in with them.

you’ll always get distracted from whatever you’re doing. you’d be lying straight through your teeth if you said he didn’t have a nice voice. he has a lovely one and you know he’s got some good lungs when you have karaoke nights. you remember everyone being surprised when donghyuck and renjun first sang properly for everyone.

wait, why are you thinking about his voice?

“i’m serious! it’s the niece! i even stalked that professor’s facebook!” you stare at the glass wall in front of you, deadpan at his confession. he sounds so proud of it, too.

“why on earth would you do that?”

“in my digital literacy class, i learned to always fact-check before disseminating information because fake news easily goes rampant–”

“my god, just shut up. forget i asked.”

“now, why on earth would i do that?” he’s smirking to himself—this one you’re sure of—and he’s probably puffing his chest out, too. suddenly you hear a voice in the background that sounds distinctly like renjun’s. “huh? i’m talking to y/n. wait, you have a shift today? can you bring back the chocolate croissant for me pleaaaaase? please, junie, pleaaase?”

“you’re so annoying, help the business out and buy it instead of taking the leftovers!” renjun scolds him but you know that he will be bringing back that croissant for donghyuck if there’s any.

“tell renjun to have a good shift at work,” you quickly pipe up with a quiet grunt as you lug the heavy book to return it where you found it.

“don’t tell me what to do!” he retorts childishly. in a sweeter voice, he goes, “have a good shift at work renjunnie!” you roll your eyes in annoyance.

“thanks, y/n. hope your study session was productive.” renjun’s voice is right in your ears and you hum positively in reply. you find the nearest book return cart first before the right bookshelf so you carefully put it in there.

in the background, you hear some back-and-forth bickering and you hear jeno’s name perk up in the conversation. you don’t really know him that well since he tends to keep to himself and he has his own friend group.

finally, the phone is back in its owner’s possession.

“okay, hi, i’m back. did you miss me?” he coos into your ears and you have to physically resist the urge to punch something as a substitute for his stupid face.

“i didn’t even notice that you’d left.” you close your laptop and slide it into its sleeve before packing it into your bag.

“ugh,” he groans. “i have an exam tomorrow and i lost my calculator.” as you leave the library, you frown slightly at his statement. this is going to build up to something. he’s going to ask to borrow your calculator, you’re sure of it. you have one lying around because your field of study doesn’t exactly require frequent usage of it and your upcoming exams and assignments don’t need it.

“then get a new one,” you lamely suggest. if the word ‘borrow’ even leaves your lips, he’s going to ask you for the calculator. you already know he’s going to ask anyway but you’re just trying to minimise the chances of him doing so. if possible.

“for an exam? it’s not cost-effective!” donghyuck whines in your ears and you roll your eyes. the automatic doors slide open and you walk past jeno and the same person who had saved him earlier.

“neither is losing your calculator a day before your exam.” you retort with a scoff through your nose. although they were ahead of you until you took over, you managed to catch a glimpse of their fingers brushing against each other, itching to hold the other’s hand. right before you sped up, they intertwined their fingers and you can’t help but smile to yourself. that’s cute.

“c’mon, just lend me yours! i know you have one!”

#6: HE BORROWS THINGS AND NEVER RETURNS THEM

you’re not the only victim of never getting your things returned to you. he’s borrowed a lot of things from a lot of people and you doubt he’s returned over half of the items.

back in freshman year when some of you hung out in your dorm, he asked what made your room smell so good. you wanted to say that you were acquaintances back then but given how comfortable he was with riling you up, you figured you were past that already.

your dorm wasn’t the biggest nor was it the smallest but it was enough to host renjun, mark, donghyuck, giselle, and yourself for the time being. you don’t even remember why the hell this particular combination of people was in your dorm.

what you do remember was mark ripping the nastiest fart by accident since he had been skipping meals and finally had proper food earlier that day after everyone had literally dragged him to the nearest kfc to eat something with everyone else.

you had to open the windows and your door to let the air circulate. honestly, you half-hoped that someone would walk past the dorm and smell the toxins that had been unleashed. mark was, of course, extremely embarrassed to the point where he was laughing his ass off while donghyuck and renjun made fun of him. you grabbed a dainty glass bottle that can be easily mistaken for perfume and quickly spritzed every single corner of your dorm until it smelled like apricots, tangerine and vanilla.

“whoa, that smells so good!” donghyuck was the first to make a comment on the scent of your air freshener. “may i?” gone are the days when he used to ask politely for things. now, he just whines, begs, and acts cute until he gets his way. you handed him the bottle and he read the labels and everything in curiosity, surveying it like it was the finest item that had ever graced his hands.

you had let him be and checked in on mark to make sure that his soul wasn’t going to ascend into the heavens out of embarrassment. within minutes, donghyuck was asking if he could borrow it to test for his own room. out of the goodness of your own heart, of course, you said yes. it’s safe to say that you had to buy a new bottle a couple of weeks after that because the one you let him borrow never saw the light of the next day.

in hindsight, you probably should have taken that as a precautionary tale or even a lesson. even though he isn’t the best at returning the things he borrows, at least he pays back what he owes when it comes to money. maybe that’s why you lent him that vintage corduroy jacket that you thrifted and made the excuse that he looked good in it and that it was too big for you.

“so can i?” donghyuck’s voice pulls you back to the present. you don’t have any upcoming exams or assessments that require you to use the calculator so it’s practically just collecting dust. if it were someone else asking you, you’d give in with no hesitation. since it’s the one person on this godforsaken earth who likes to mess with your head, you need to seize the opportunity and ask for something in return. “pretty pleaaasseee? my bestest friend in the whole wide world?”

“ouch, imagine if renjun heard that.”

“he’ll live.” you hear a soft thump from his end and you assume that he had fallen back on his pillow dramatically. “c’mon, y/n, please? i’ll do anything!” then he begins to start chanting ‘please’ quickly enough to make you cringe.

every time you think that he cannot possibly get even more annoying, he proves you wrong when you least expect it. at times like this is when his brain truly astounds you.

you start to tune out his incessant mantra that turns into white noise. since it’s two in the afternoon, you’re headed to the canteen to have a slightly late lunch before you head back to your dorm. the entire campus seems oddly empty but you know you can attribute it to a majority of the students mugging in the library or off-campus for their field projects.

“y/n! are you listening to me?” you snap your attention back to him and blink distractedly like it’ll help you focus on him.

“what? i stopped when you started being extra annoying.” the kiosk for purchasing your meal ticket appears and you make your way over with a light spring in your step.

“i said i’ll buy you a meal in exchange after your exam tomorrow . . .” your brows furrow slightly when he sounds pouty. this is where the tricky part comes in—there are some very special cases when he’ll tug at your heartstrings and get you to break when he sounds desperate and pathetic enough. as your finger hovers over the purchase button, you start to find difficulty in moving on.

“i want that curry katsu rice from hongdae.” the corners of your lips upturn in a proud smile as you finally buy your meal ticket and grab the small slip of paper.

“what?! i don’t have a car, we can’t drive there!”

“there’s a car rental service and it costs like, eight bucks per hour. hongdae’s a half-hour drive with good traffic. you can rent a car for two hours, three hours maximum and make it back in time. my exam ends at 11 am and yours at 10:45 am so i don’t see the problem. you’re still paying less by buying me food than buying a brand new calculator.”

silence falls on his side of the line and you know you’ve hit the jackpot. you grab a tray and start picking out the side dishes that you want with your rice as you wait for his response. you quickly thank the canteen staff and find a seat amongst the sea of empty tables. it’s so eerily empty that you feel like you’re in a ghost town illuminated by fluorescent lights.

“fine, you win. i’ll let you know if i can rent a car.” he grumbles.

even as you eat lunch, you’re both talking about anything that you possibly can as if you’re a pair of friends who haven’t spoken to each other in five years. you wonder if it’s the stress of exams and assignments wearing you down because you find yourself letting yourself go around him. you’re able to laugh freely, throw insults at him, and forget about how taxing university can be for the graduating cohorts.

after you’re done eating and returning your tray to its designated area, you’re still talking to donghyuck. you don’t want to admit it out loud to him but he does have a nice voice. soothing, even. you prefer to listen to him when he’s not whining or making annoying sounds with his mouth. he is most definitely a guy with great humour, and he’s thoughtful and polite when he wants to be.

he accompanies you through the phone as you make your way back to your dorm, talking about how renjun keeps getting distracted by some guitarist in a store while he works. the few times he visited his best friend at work, apparently he kept staring out the floor-to-ceiling glass walls as if waiting for someone to appear. then he’s complaining about how jeno refuses to admit to this person that he’s known since freshman year that he’s in love with them. so that’s who the mystery person is. you don’t personally know them nor have you met them but you’re sure that he has good taste.

finally, you’re back in the sweet confines of your dorm and it’s the same second that your airpods begin to breathe its last few breaths. thanks to donghyuck, you’ve been given some time to shut your brain off before you spend the rest of your day mugging and doing last-minute revisions for tomorrow’s exam. if you’re going to look at the brighter side of things, it’s your final exam and everything else is just submissions in the following week.

“okay, i gotta go. my airpods are dying and i need to continue studying.” you announce, sliding out of your shoes and into the furry dorm slippers that giselle had gotten for you.

“boo, you nerd.” although he says that, you know that he doesn’t want to end the two-hour call just yet. the weird thing is, neither do you. “study well. you’ll crush your exam tomorrow.”

you frown at the sudden affirmation.

“thanks,” you mumble. “you too.”

“at least say it like you mean it!” he complains loudly and you resist the urge to strangle him through the phone.

“what do you mean by that? i didn’t half-ass it! would you rather i go—“ you put on your best customer service smile and voice from when you used to work in retail—“‘oh, hyuckie, thank you so much! you’re the greatest, i’m sure you’ll do well tomorrow too!’?”

“yeah, i do! i like it a lot better when you call me hyuckie!” you open your mouth to hit him back with a smartass retort when you realise that you can’t. what he had just blurted out finally registered in your brain after an entire three seconds of silence.

“. . . huh?” that was all that you managed to say.

“everyone calls me hyuckie but not you.” his voice is barely above a whisper, a confession that’s so shy leaving his lips. “it’d be nice if you called me hyuckie every once in a while, you know.” is this his way of saving himself after that? are you reading too much into it? when did you even call him hyuckie?

when you backtrack and realise that you had indeed called him hyuckie by complete accident, your face burns in embarrassment. it’s not like you don’t want to call him that. you do but every time you even want to formulate it in your brain, you fear that it sounds more affectionate than you want it to be.

what the hell do you say now that it’s slipped?

you’re struggling for the right words to say, searching every corner and crevice of your brain for something—anything—but it feels like the seasons have passed and the flowers have bloomed until the final petal is hanging desperately onto the bud for an answer.

“i’ll call you hyuckie whenever i want to.” your voice comes out in a shallow whisper. it doesn’t sound like a proper answer but more like a promise.

“or alternatively, you could always call me yo–”

“can’t hear you, i’m hanging up, bye!” as soon as you anticipate what he is going to say, you talk over him in panic and abuse the red button on your screen until the call ends. with a loud groan of defeat, you drop yourself onto your bed and toss your phone onto the pillows. you cradle your head in your hands and release another groan, this time out of frustration.

it doesn’t make sense why your heart is fluttering and your stomach is twisting from what he said before you interrupted him. you both get along like fire and ice. he flirts with every single thing that breathes. you insult him every chance you get. you hate his guts half the time. he picks on you and gets on your nerves every waking moment of your life.

so why do you feel this compelling urge to kiss him to shut his stupidly handsome face up every time he’s near?

maybe it’s because you’re stressed.

yeah, that sounds right. you’re not thinking straight. the mental exhaustion and fog that comes with mugging for exams and tying loose ends for several projects are finally taking a toll on you. it’s so bad that it’s beginning to cloud your judgement and influence you into thinking otherwise.

yeah.

you’re just stressed. you’re definitely not developing feelings for someone in your friend group. university has been taxing on both your mind and body. this feeling—whatever this is—will eventually pass.

suddenly, your phone buzzes on your pillow. you lean over and grab it to open up a text from none other than the man himself.

another loud groan rips through your throat as you toss it back onto the pillow.

“i hate you, lee donghyuck.”

⠀⠀ ⠀⌒⠀ִ ✧ ﾟ 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪

before you know it, your exams are over and all of your assignments are turned in.

no longer are you staring at a laptop screen amongst an ocean of open books and colourful page tags or holding a pen praying it won’t run out of ink halfway through the exam. for the first time in weeks, you managed to feel relaxed and well-rested after sleeping for ten hours straight. forget having to hole yourself in some secret corner in the library or your room with days-old stains on sweatshirts.

you’re free from the treacherous throes of exams and so are your friends, which is why you’re at the alpha neo fraternity with virtually every single student on campus with a cup of fruit punch in your hand.

like what donghyuck had promised, it’s the biggest party of the frat that you’ve ever attended yet. led lights line the perimeter of every ceiling to set the mood. speakers are found at almost every corner making sure the music fills the space. the entire place reeks of alcohol and sweaty bodies dancing, playing games, making out, and doing anything they can to relieve the stress of university.

speaking of donghyuck, you haven’t seen him in person for quite a while. you’ve texted, sure, but you’ve also been texting the others in your friend group. everyone had arrived at different timings so you couldn’t do your shotgun tradition which is perfectly fine. maybe you even felt a bit of relief if that meant not seeing him for a while longer.

the one who greeted you at the door was a face that you completely did not recognise. you doubt she’s someone from the frat but she did a great job at welcoming you in. she pulled you into a hug before she let you in and she strongly smelled of soju and beer so you figured she was drunk or at least close to that.

now you’re sticking close to the walls, hoping to catch even a glimpse of any one of your friends. texting them is futile especially when you’re sure half of them are drunk already. even if you feel a tad lonely in a frat house full of people, you’re sure your friends are more or less fine. probably.

“y/n!” you hear your name amongst the loud crowd and heavy bass that resonates through every fibre in your bones. you turn to see giselle with one hand already out to grab you. a soft laugh escapes your lips as you make your way over to her and meet her in the middle. “we were looking everywhere for you! everyone’s in the attic.”

“the attic?” for all the time you’ve spent in this house, not once have you ever guessed that there would be an attic. or a basement. “is it a creepy attic like the ones in scary american movies? rundown and all that?”

she cackles out loud and that’s when you know she’s on the verge of being drunk. she begins to lead you to wherever this place may be, snaking through a sea of sticky, sweat-slicked bodies.

“it’s well-kept, don’t worry. it’s not just us, there are others in their own groups too. it’s like . . . like . . . oh! a small party away from the main party.” she reassures you with a slight sway in her steps. if she’s on her way to being drunk, that means sungchan, ningning, and donghyuck are most likely already there. of everyone, renjun and shotaro have the highest alcohol tolerance out of everyone else, but you’re sure they want to take as many shots to get them loopy.

after navigating through the crowd, there’s a flight of stairs at the end of the third-level hallway, hidden behind a foldable shoji screen. that’s kind of a smart way to hide the attic from the lot of them.

the attic is unlike anything you’ve imagined.

fairy lights are strung along the walls, with singular light bulbs and potted plants hanging from the ceiling. there’s a moderately big speaker at the far end, connected to presumably mark’s laptop, playing music that you actually like. it’s not loud enough to be heard by people outside but it’s loud enough to drown the music at the main party.

like what giselle had said, there are people mingling around in their own little groups but sometimes they’ll break away to talk to others. there’s a table for snacks and for some reason, a large plate of roasted chicken. from the way it looks when you survey it, apparently, people are eating it too. there are three plates of baked cookies with one labelled ‘infused with devil’s lettuce’.

above your head, there’s a huge skylight that’s open to reveal the constellation of stars that decorate the dark night sky. moonlight floods generously through the attic and illuminates everything that it delicately touches. at the end, there’s a balcony separated by sliding glass doors that would lead people to the swimming pool below.

you spot what’s left of your group in the distance. donghyuck is the first to notice you and call out your name eagerly. you spot ningning, shotaro, and mark sitting with him in a circle.

“y/n!” one by one they turn their heads and cheer your name enthusiastically. your heart swells at the affection the group has for you and a big beam spreads across your face.

“i’m here too? hello to you too, damn.” giselle sulks and pouts, burying her face in your neck. you laugh and pull her close to your side, squeezing her waist gently before letting go so you can both sit down.

“so how drunk is everyone?” you place your cup down on the wood floor, looking at the group and the various states of drunkenness.

“on my way there,” ningning cutely slurs her words with a cheeky thumbs-up. sungchan is nowhere to be seen and you have to guess that he’s getting drunker than a skunk.

“we just wanted to get our eyes on you first before going to the main party. hyuck’s already four shots in within a little over an hour.” mark points at a somewhat drunk donghyuck, eyelids halfway down and shoulders drooping while he sports a loopy smile of contentment. if you didn’t know any better, he probably had a little bit of the edibles with his drinks. “renjun and sungchan are downstairs playing beer pong with others, we’re looking to join.”

“ning and i found two other girls who are really, really cute and we’re also hoping they’re a little—“ giselle flicks her wrist downwards gently “—so we can get some action. but maybe it’ll just be me if we don’t sober up soon.” she takes another swig of her drink with a toothy grin.

“i’ll go with beer pong. with this one drunk,” you gesture at donghyuck, “i’m sure we can get him to do some weird shit. good luck to you girls, though.” you’re already laughing to yourself thinking about the possibilities that could happen. when he’s sober, he’s already quite competitive and stubborn. these two traits of his seem to shine brighter when he’s drunk.

“sounds like a plan.” shotaro gives the gathered group a thumbs up.

everyone gets up and collects their valued belongings as you prepare to move to the main party. within minutes you’re back to loud, pop music that everyone knows the lyrics to with ridiculously strong bass shaking both the skeleton of the house and yours.

you’re bumping into swaying bodies left and right, either high as a kite or drunk as a skunk until you finally find the corner where renjun and sungchan are playing beer pong. there are a lot of faces that you don’t recognise but you immediately pick out jeno, the hot TA jaehyun, and the hot girl you hooked up with some months ago from them. at least they’re familiar.

it appears that the beer pong is no longer just beer, but a mix with soju and some coke. some drinks contain all of those. that’s surely one way to party.

when a ping pong ball bounces off the table and onto the floor, you realise that sungchan is no longer trying.

actually, he’s no longer sober.

renjun has practically wiped all of his cups while he only has half of renjun’s. the poor law student can barely even stand straight, he’s aiming all the way to his opponent’s general left area. you’re not even sure if he’s able to stand after the game.

“i can do it better,” you hear donghyuck mumble out loud enough for it to reach the ears of alpha neo’s king of beer pong.

“are you sure about that?” renjun scoffs through his nose and the ping-pong ball hits his chest. however, it bounces and lands in one of his cups. he was about to congratulate sungchan but there’s a gentle thud and the next thing you know, the poor boy is on the floor and knocked out cold. “oh my god. okay, someone else please play. i’m taking him to his room.”

“markie! i wanna play with you!” donghyuck has chosen his opponent and you have chosen to help renjun get sungchan up to his room while shotaro babysits the lightweights.

honestly, you didn’t think that taking sungchan back would require maths, physics, the forces of nature, and some divine magic. he’s a very tall person—the tallest in your friend group, too—and that means his limbs can end up in awkward, gangly situations. his arms are flopping over your shoulders as you help him up the stairs but it’s more of you and renjun making a joint effort to drag him up.

when you get into his room, you tuck him into bed while renjun prepares a bottle of water, some pills for the morning, and a plastic bag on the side just in case he needs to hurl. you’re both in and out quickly and then it’s just the both of you alone as you make your way back to the beer pong table.

“so when are you going to act on it?” renjun asks out of the blue. you turn and look at him in visible confusion, gesturing at him to elaborate. “your feelings for donghyuck.”

“huh?!” you almost choked on your spit at his ridiculous assumption based on nothing at all. “i do not have a crush on him.” do you? your tongue is all twisted as you think of a compelling argument to dispel his claims. “have you seen him? he’s . . . him!”

“dude, i’ve seen the way you look at him and the way he looks at you.” he laughs. what the hell does he mean by that?

“i look at him in contempt and disgust. my feelings for him are pure hatred. i tolerate his existence.”

renjun doesn’t seem at all too convinced by that. underneath the dim, coloured lighting, you’re glad he won’t be able to see most of your facial expressions when you turn away from him.

“whatever you say, y/n.” he smiles sweetly at you but you know it’s not sincere. it’s thinly-veiled sarcasm and he always gives that smile when he knows something that you don’t.

you open your mouth to retort when somebody grabs your arm unexpectedly. ready to fight whoever had grabbed you without your consent, your free hand balls into a fist as you turn but you’re quickly met with shotaro and his soft smile. you immediately relax.

“sorry, did i scare you?” he bashfully apologises while dragging you and renjun into the small circle that’s formed around the two beer pong players.

“all good, taro,” you pat his bicep gently.

mark has cleared some of his cups while donghyuck has only cleared a couple. it’s obvious who’s the winner and it’s even more obvious who’s tipping over the edge already.

“how’s the winner feeling?” you muse teasingly, arms folded across your chest as you look at mark.

“it’s not much of a challenge.” he shrugs as his opponent misses yet another cup. “he’s too drunk to even aim properly. i’m tipsy and i still can get some shots in.”

“talk later when i smoke your ass, lee minhyung!” he slurs, wagging his finger at the other. you’ve seen the man in varied states of drunkenness before but this is probably the first time he’s properly let go.

“oh no, the government name.” mark giggles while he grabs a ping pong ball so he can prepare his round. “i’m so scared, hyuckie.” he bounces the ball against the table and it aptly lands in one of donghyuck’s cups. half of the circle cheers while the other half chants for the sore loser to chug.

even in his drunken state, he can find the cup with the ball bobbing sadly. he takes it and carefully places the soiled ball into a bowl of clean water. you’re curious about what he will be drinking this time—will it be coke, beer, soju, or all of it mixed?

the second you see a slight frown on his face as he tastes the drink, you know it’s something he doesn’t want. he got beer.

“markie, winner gets to pick what the loser does!” he announces before downing the carbonated drink. god, you really should’ve seen this coming.

#5: HE WILL DO ANYTHING TO PROVE A POINT

the first time you had witnessed donghyuck go to lengths to prove a point was in freshman year. the boys were playing basketball while you, giselle, and ningning sat with shotaro at the side to listen to music and just vibe. you didn’t know what had started the commotion but there was a lot of shouting that had immediately stolen your attention.

“you’re not tall enough, jackass!” you heard renjun yell, fingers pressed to his temples as if he’s beyond stressed out.

“you should talk, jun.” donghyuck grinned. that man looked death in the eye and winked.

renjun did not hesitate to grab the orange ball from mark’s hands and started to chase him around with it.

“you wanna fucking die, you rat bastard?!” you couldn’t help but laugh at the scene unfolding. giselle practically fell into your lap laughing when the ball bounced off the ground and attacked donghyuck in the ass.

“all i said was i can definitely dunk!” he cried out in agony as he dramatically fell on the court and rolled over on his back in a spread-eagle position. sungchan grabbed the rogue ball and towered over him with a sadistic grin, raised over to his chest and ready to throw it directly where the sun doesn’t shine. “no! no, no, no! channie have mercy please, i’ll buy you ice pops! i’ll buy you anything!”

you were half-expecting sungchan to smash donghyuck’s precious testicles right then and there but he’s not as sadistic as you are . . . probably. he pretended to drop the basketball and the victim screamed bloody murder, immediately curling up and begging for mercy.

“you definitely cannot dunk!” you shouted loud enough for the boys to hear.

“yeah, hyuckie! you’re too tiny!” ningning continued the jeering and everyone was laughing out loud at the blatant affectionate bullying.

“i’m not too tiny?!” not wanting to take any more slander, he jumped onto his feet and immediately bumped into the tree that is sungchan and another round of giggling filled the air. “everyone, wait here. i’m gonna be back and exact my revenge! just wait!”

“we have all day, hyuck.” you raised your eyebrows and he flipped you off in response. and so he walked off with his phone to who knew where.

“should we follow him?” mark asked, hands on his hips as he watched his figure become tinier in the distance.”

“he’ll be fine.” renjun waved dismissively and walked over to where the non-basketball players lounged with the music and food.

“welcome to the oasis,” shotaro welcomed them with a smile, passing their water bottles over to them while they made space for themselves.

minutes later, donghyuck comes back with a ladder and you already had a rough idea of what he wanted to do. everyone fell silent as he walked across the court and planted the ladder directly underneath the hoop. he went back to your little picnic spread to retrieve the ball and by then, ningning had her phone out to film him.

all eyes were on him, basketball tucked under his armpit, strutting back to the metal ladder with a purpose. he climbed the steps and as soon as he was within reach of the hoop, renjun heaved a loud sigh.

everybody knew what he was doing by then. he held the basketball high over his head and dramatically shoved it down the hoop.

“i told you i could dunk!” that was simply the beginning of his countless misadventures just to prove a point.

there are over dozens of memories you would love to reminisce about but the beer pong game appears a tad more interesting.

mark had already gotten more than half of donghyuck’s cups, leaving him with three left to win. his sore loser of an opponent has about ten cups to clear and the winner is standing with one hand on his hip while he leans against shotaro.

“hyuckie, mark kinda won by a landslide.” renjun throws one of his arms over his shoulders to support him but he’s whining nonsense and pouting at his best friend.

“he still has cups! i can still win!” he declares aloud only for his words to get swallowed by the deafening music.

watching him, you have no idea if he’s an idiot or just plain drunk and competitive. but you honestly respect the fact that he’s still so eager to lose.

“okay, and what– guh– what does the loser have to do?” mark is obviously starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. as much as you would like to be a good friend and get him water, you’d hate to miss the shitshow when hyuck loses.

“wear a trash bag and throw himself in the pool.”

out of all the bets that the boys have been involved in, this is considered very tame.

mark’s eyes light up and it looks like he’s sobered up slightly as if he’s gotten a new sense of purpose.

you want to say that the game has gotten tense but everyone’s waiting for the grad student to win so they can play too. a song that you recognise begins playing and it’s that viral tiktok song, cupid. naturally, everyone else knows it too and starts aggressively yelling the lyrics.

weirdly enough, they’re playing the english version instead of the korean version which makes you laugh a little. most of the students at the party are native korean speakers so it was pretty amazing to see them excitedly singing along flawlessly. you spot some randomly mouthing things (see: donghyuck) until they get to a part they recognise.

from the corner of your eye, donghyuck was dancing along and even yanked mark to rope him into joining. the sheer sight of them drunkenly yet passionately dancing makes your heart swell with so much affection for your friends. renjun already has his phone filming it because you know that mark will deny ever doing it.

“i’d give a second chance to cupid!” everyone, including yourself, screams into the air, and bursts of laughter resonate afterwards.

“by the way,” mark turns to donghyuck, gaze heavy and serious. the younger male reciprocates the energy and you suddenly wonder what’s up. “you could never wear a trash bag. you’re too good-looking for that, bro.”

you sigh heavily. you definitely need more drinks for this. you turn to renjun who’s already way ahead of you, returning with three cups of soju mixed with coke.

“what? i could definitely rock a trash bag!” donghyuck protests with his words slurring together a little. you take your cup and take a huge gulp, needing the buzz under your skin.

“nobody’s wearing any trash bags!” shotaro exclaims in exasperation, not wanting to deal with either one of them accidentally flashing the entire campus. it’s not like it’s the first time, but he still wants to save some of their dignity.

“shh, let them be.” you wave dismissively at the two men standing on either side of you. “you two go and get drunk.”

“and let you have all the fun in watching these two dolts?” renjun scoffs but takes a swig of his drink. the last time you had all gotten drunk like this, renjun was the one who had taken care of everyone. you know he needs this release more than anyone since he’s going through some personal things on top of stressful exams.

“go on, jun. we know our y/n will take care of us.” shotaro cheerily swings his arm over your shoulders and takes a generous gulp of his drink. oh, he’s going for it alright. a wide grin spreads across your face as the three of you bump your plastic cups together.

renjun mulls over it for a moment before he quietly sighs. that’s when you know he’s given in. your eyes widen when shotaro stops him from chugging his drink.

“junie, let’s do that thing where we lock arms and drink!” you’re not sure if it’s the sugar in his system (he mentioned eating too much chocolate beforehand in the group chat) or if he had a bit of those weed cookies but shotaro is oddly giggly and loud. you’re not complaining, though.

you take a couple of steps back to give them space as they lock their arms. the two bring their cups to their lips and start to chug together. a laugh is caught at the back of your throat as you shake your head, taking another swig from your own cup.

“time to party!” shotaro and renjun disappear into the crowd, leaving you alone with mark and donghy–

wait.

you whip your head around, squinting to find the drunken sore loser. good god. you don’t know where he could have possibly gone. mark is generally not a problem when he’s drunk—all he does is giggle at everything and shower the nearest object with compliments. right now, the victim of his affection is jeno.

you look at the two and make eye contact with jeno. he probably managed to sense that you’re worried for him so he flashes you a sweet, reassuring smile and throws a thumbs up too. you exhale and smile back in relief, nodding slightly at him. you’re definitely going to have to thank him one of these days.

now, to the matter at hand: where the hell is lee donghyuck?

if it’s up to you, you’d flip the entire frat house upside down, pick him up like a mii character and drag him away from the crowd. since you have various limitations, you’ve resorted to using a high iq method: you have to think like a drunk donghyuck.

the best and the worst thing about him is that he’s unpredictable. but even when he’s unpredictable, he is predictable. so, taking a gulp of your drink, you try to think of the most probable theory that you can based on what had transpired less than fifteen minutes ago.

when the realisation hits you, you sigh and finish the rest of your drink. if you’re going to take care of him, you’ll do it with a slight buzz in your system before you can let go of all your inhibitions. you quickly find the nearest bin to dispose of your cup before setting off on your quest to stop your drunk friend from doing something stupid.

the first location that you went to is the kitchen. it is weirdly empty but you’re glad you didn’t walk in on anyone fucking. you notice the cabinet door underneath the sink is open slightly ajar. you open it up fully to see what’s inside and you’ve revealed your first piece of evidence: the pack of black trash bags being messily thrown aside with bits sticking out of its packaging.

so he already is in possession of the trash bag. he can’t be too far. you reckon he is definitely nearby. you just need to find bits and pieces of trash bags as you wade through heavy, sweaty bodies that you refuse to make any contact with.

donghyuck’s voice finds you faster than you trying to find him. you follow the direction where his laughter and drunken announcements are coming from until you find yourself in the backyard where the pool is, with the man himself dressed in a trash bag that barely covers his ass. wait. he’s not wearing underwear!?

“lee donghyuck!” you try your best to throw your voice over the music and it seems to have worked because he’s slowly turning around as you rush over.

the only problem is that his arms are still up and you can see the head of his dick peeking from the hem of his trash bag dress. you quickly avert your gaze out of respect and disgust (it was mostly the latter) and grab his arms to pull them down so he doesn’t flash himself to anyone else.

“what the hell are you doing?” you grab the cup that he’s holding and shove it into the hands of a passerby. he follows the direction of the cup but you divert his attention back by grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look at you instead. “lee donghyuck, focus up.”

“y/n, you’re so hot when you’re angry at me,” he wistfully lilts, his body swaying towards you and you steady him with your other hand. you simply let his comments be, knowing that he’s just intoxicated with enough drinks to keep him that way throughout the night. he calls out your name again in a sing-song way, arms circling around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug. “it feels so hot and you’re so warm but i’ve always loved your hugs . . .”

“yeah, whatever, let’s get you in bed. you’ve had enough.” you reach into your back pocket for your phone to take a look at the time and he hisses at the bright light from your screen. you mumble a half-assed apology that you probably don’t mean. it’s not even one in the morning. how quickly did he drink? you arrived at the party about two hours ago and the doors opened at nine.

donghyuck starts whining your name and leans in to rest his forehead against the crook of your neck, snuggling into you more when you begin to move.

#4: HE’S THE WORST DRUNK IN THE GROUP

you don’t mind your friends when they get shitfaced drunk. most of them are tolerable. mark starts to be overly affectionate with the nearest object. renjun gets moody and a little bit of a killjoy but get him more drinks and he’ll turn extremely giggly. giselle is weirdly confident and will begin to confess her undying love for her best friends. sungchan turns into a curious five-year-old and will eventually pass out. shotaro is loud, giggly, and will act like a person who’s high as a kite. the opposite is also true when he’s consuming the devil’s lettuce. ningning is also another one who unlocks a hidden volume button and becomes a loudspeaker when she gets drunk, and can and will make out with the nearest girl. donghyuck, on the other hand . . .

“hyuck, c’mon.” you pat his back but he squeezes you tighter and nuzzles his nose where your skin is exposed, needing the contact. another weak whine drawls from his throat. “you’re drunk and you’re gonna regret it in the morning. let’s get you in bed.”

“you’re not my parent.”

“no, i’m not but i have your mom’s number.” you don’t but you know it’s enough to scare a drunk donghyuck into behaving.

just as you predicted, he pulls away from you and his eyes widen in a mix of fear and panic. your faces are impossibly close. your cheeks and neck burn from the sudden proximity. from being mere inches away, you can see the beauty marks on his face, the gentle slopes and the sharp angles that make up his facial features accentuated by the strong shadows of the dim, coloured lighting. he looks good in neutrals and natural lighting but as ruby red filters into view, it’s like you’re looking at an ethereal creature made by the hands of aphrodite herself.

“you wouldn’t.” he dramatically whispers. his breath reeks with a putrid mix of john walker, soju, and coke, which easily brings you out of whatever stupor you were in before he started speaking.

“try me.” you challenge him with an eyebrow cocked upwards. you grab your phone and unlock it, immediately pretending to search for his mom’s number in your contacts. you tap on mark’s number and pretend to start a call.

“no! nonononono, don’t, don’t! i’ll behave, y/n, please!” donghyuck immediately grabs onto your wrist and gives you the best drunken puppy eyes he can possibly muster. you almost feel bad for wanting to laugh but you quickly hide it with a scoff through your nose. it’s not like he’s going to hear it, anyway. “promise me you won’t call my mom!”

“fine, fine,” you shake your head and keep your phone in your back pocket. “are you ready to go to bed?”

“i’m not tired!” he whines and starts to stumble off, in pursuit of what you’re guessing may be another red cup for a drink. you follow him from behind and make sure he doesn’t bump into anybody and get into a fight with one of the weirdly muscled dudes from another frat. lee donghyuck is a lot of things but a winner in physical fights isn’t one of those.

“no, but you’re extremely drunk and you’re gonna get a hangover so bad you’re going to throw up.” when he picks up a cup, he diligently yet clumsily scoops it into the bowl of spiked fruit punch. sure, why not? that works.

“can a drunk person do this?” he turns to you and looks at you like he had just cartwheeled across the room. you give him a non-committal noise and he takes it as a win, triumphantly downing a generous amount of the punch. an excited squeal escapes him and you had almost mistaken him for an idol’s fan. “this tastes so good! it feels like i have the teletubbies dancing in my tele-tummy.” oh god, you barely forgot how much worse his jokes can get when he’s smashed.

he can barely stand still, body swaying as he struggles to keep his feet on the ground. as you stand there and survey him from head to toe, clad in nothing but a black trash bag, the first question that pops into your mind is: where the hell is the rest of his clothes? the deep, saturated red of the coloured lights emphasises some of his best features.

you notice the curves of the toned muscles of his biceps, the dark shadows that cast making them appear more defined. your eyes trail further down and his thick, sturdy thighs come into view. he had once told the group that he went for a lot of dance lessons, spanning from jazz to ballet to tap, and has a natural affinity for it. even though he no longer dances, he’s part of the university ice hockey team with mark, jeno, and sungchan. maybe that’s where he gets those thighs from.

before your mind can start to wander, somebody bumps into you from behind and you’re shoved into his chest. his arms come around to instinctively hug you but he has his cup in hand still. you feel cold water run down your back and you involuntarily shiver.

“lee donghyuck!” your voice comes out a lot more whiny than you intend it to.

“i’m sorryyy!” even his apology is coming in a slight slur. “tissue—hic!—tissues . . .” he mumbles, searching around for something to clean you up with. you sigh as you make some distance between the both of you. you can’t really be mad at him when he’s under the influence of alcohol.

“that’s okay, hyuckie. let’s get you into your room, yeah?” the nickname falls from your lips all too naturally before you can even register it in your brain. you take him by the arm and remove his crushed plastic cup from his hand, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“m’kay . . .” he grumbles. luckily, he’s too drunk to even realise that you’d called him by his favourite nickname. when you look at him, he looks like a kicked puppy with his shoulders sagging and feet dragging along the floor as he walks with you. cute, you think to yourself.

donghyuck looks down where your fingers wrap around his forearm. he doesn’t say a word but instead chooses to remove your hand by the wrist, then place it where his hand is out waiting for you. he intertwines your fingers together, warmth spreading through your body and your heart is skipping beats every other half-second. you look up at him in surprise but all he does is give you that big, cheeky grin of his.

you clench your jaw and take a deep breath. why are you suddenly feeling nervous underneath his gaze? he’s drunk. he’s intoxicated. he’s anything but sober. he can’t form any coherent thoughts so you can’t start feeling these . . . weird things in your stomach when he does shit like this. all you need to do is get him to your room and change his clothes. you might borrow one of his shirts since your top is ruined, but it’s not your first time doing it.

“c’mon, let’s go.” you chastise him gently and tug him forward so you can continue walking.

it feels like the crowd keeps forcing you two together. wading through the sweaty, dancing bodies, your back is pressed up against donghyuck’s chest. you don’t know if he’s slowly sobering up since his free hand is on your waist, squeezing every now and then as you desperately search for a way out from this suffocating sea of people. everyone is stumbling all around you, barely bumping into each other, slurring apologies or half-assed empty threats that disappear in the thick fog of music in the air.

after what seems like forever, you finally found the flight of stairs that lead to his room in the frat house. by then, donghyuck is practically leaning against you for support and mumbling incoherencies that you can barely make any sense of. you lug him down the hallway and as you get further from the party and music, you find yourself paying attention to the shit he has to say.

“sometimes i wonder why you act as if you hate me so much but then i realise maybe you like me like i like you too but then i think again and it feels like . . . mm . . . it feels like your body is so warm and soft, i can fall asleep on you . . . junie told me to make a move but i don’t know . . . should i make a move?”

what the hell is he talking about? you spot his door and zero in on it, bumping into one of his very sober frat brothers—johnny, was it?—who flashes you an apologetic smile as he makes his way out to rejoin the party. you thought that his eyes were looking a little red-rimmed but you let it go since all that’s on your mind is to get this drunk man out of his trash bag and into a set of pyjamas, tuck him in, then call it a night.

“y/n,” he drags out the last syllable of your name and rubs his face into your shoulder. “feels hot, wanna take m’clothes off.”

“hang in there hyuckie, we’re almost in your room.” you release your intertwined hands and he whines from the loss of contact. you sigh, rolling your eyes as you open the door. it’s not your first time in his room—he has always kept it clean and organised. you flip the light switch and his room is illuminated with a bright white light. he’s one of the fancier ones who has a remote controller to change if he wants warm light, white light, or somewhere in between.

as soon as you sit him down on his bed, the first thing you do is peel your top off. he’s drunk and he definitely won’t remember a single thing, which is why you’re so comfortable with it. you start digging through his drawers for one of his shirts to wear and grab the first one you see, pulling it over your head and immediately being showered by his scent.

his usual cologne consists of smoky, woody scents balanced out with the sweet tones of vanilla. he always smells so familiar to you and it fills you with a certain kind of warmth that spreads throughout all over your body. sometimes you hope his scent embeds itself into you, sinking through your skin and deep into your soul.

when you realise that he’s been awfully quiet, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but the rustling of the trash bag tells you otherwise. you whip around to look at him struggling to get himself out of the plastic with his dick out for the whole world to see.

“lee donghyuck, what do you think you’re doing?” you sigh in exasperation, deliberately looking anywhere but waist-down.

“it’s hot, y/n!” he complains out loud and lets his body fall back onto the mattress dramatically. even when he’s drunk he doesn’t resist being a little bitch, huh.

“i know that, chill. let me get you some damn clothes so you don’t have your dick out.”

you turn your back on him and start to dig through his drawers once again. you pull out a pair of basketball shorts and dark navy calvin kleins for him to change into. before you can pass them to him, donghyuck is out of the trash bag and he’s hugging you from behind. his arms are secured around your waist as he rests his forehead on your shoulder while groaning in pain.

“can you make the world stop spinning? m’head hurts . . .”

“lee donghyuck, are you naked?”

“i asked you first.”

you sigh.

“i can’t make the world stop spinning but can you put on some clothes?” with the fistful of his minimal clothing, your peel one of his hands from your waist and place it there.

“i dunno, can i?” ah, he really is cute for trying.

“just put on the clothes.”

he mumbles something to himself, most likely complaining about how ‘mean’ you are but it’s nothing you haven’t heard before, especially when he’s like this.

you hear him stumble and struggle until you hear the elastic band of his boxers snap against his waist. you don’t hear any movement from him and you’re overcome with a strong urge to turn around.

“hyuck?” you softly call out his name.

“can i just wear my boxers to sleep? ‘s too hot . . . m’body feels like ‘s on fire . . .”

for someone who’s drunk, he sure is moving around a lot faster than you would like to admit. before you can even do anything else, he has his arms wrapped around your waist and his forehead is yet again on your shoulder. you’re being engulfed in his scent from standing in his room, wearing his shirt that’s a tad big on you, and him hugging you from the back. maybe engulfed isn’t even the right word— you’re overwhelmed, practically even drowning in it and your mind is reeling from how good he smells and feels, much against your liking.

“i’ll turn the air conditioning on for you, how’s that sound?” he’s an absolute handful to deal with when he’s drunk. it’s like taking care of a sugar-high kid, especially when he crashes and burns and turns into a big baby.

donghyuck makes a small sound of approval and you take that as a yes. you turn around whilst still being trapped within his arms. your hands perch tenderly on his firm shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze but he pulls you in tighter and you sigh.

“hyuckie, i can’t tuck you in and turn on the AC if you’re going to keep hugging me.”

“but y’feel nice an’ soft,” he mumbles into your shoulder, nuzzling his nose until he makes contact with your skin and sighing happily. “wanna cuddle you.” the sudden confession had your stomach twisting nervously in knots.

he’s drunk, you remind yourself. he hasn’t a single clue what he’s talking about. it’ll pass when he’s tucked in and fast asleep. suddenly you yearn for the loud music and sweating bodies downstairs.

you wordlessly reach behind you to unwrap his arms from your waist. with your fingers wrapped around his wrist, you lead him to his bed and sit him down after you have pushed aside his blanket. you make sure that he’s properly lying down before turning on his air conditioner and setting the timer for an hour.

donghyuck whines your name into his pillow when you tuck him in, refusing to let you go.

“hyuckie,” you gently warn him to behave without an ounce of real anger.

“‘s too bright. wanna cuddle.”

you fall silent at his request. he’s drunk and exhausted and you can tell from the way he’s getting whinier and his fights are becoming weaker. you need to throw his trash bag dress away and toss all of his dirty clothes into his hamper.

“give me five minutes, can you do that for me?” you whisper. you’re going to have to turn the lights off as soon as you’re done with what you have to do. you’ll just let him cuddle you and as soon as he falls asleep, you can return to the party and check in on your other friends.

“fine,” he grumbles after pondering it over. you’re suddenly overcome with the urge to pat his head and give him a kiss on the temple like you would to literally anyone else when you’re taking care of them when they’re drunk off their asses. you hold yourself back and quickly get down to business.

within minutes, you flick the light off once all of your chores have been completed. it only means that you have to return to entertaining the man-baby who had been quietly watching you while you worked.

donghyuck calls out for you again and you sigh loud enough to let him know that you’re still there. if you’re going to get in bed with him, you might as well get comfortable even if it’s for ten minutes.

you quickly shimmy off your jeans before crawling underneath his duvet on the other side of his bed. you hear some shuffling so you guess that it’s him rolling over and your assumption is correct when you feel his arms circle around your waist to pull you flush to his chest. it probably doesn’t matter to him that your back is to him, but god, it’s the only thing that matters to you.

heat rushes from your core straight to your cheeks and chest, goosebumps rippling across your arms as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. you’re fighting tooth and nail so you wouldn’t feel anything but there’s a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering in your stomach from the contact.

“y/n?” he calls out, his voice merely the ghost of a whisper. you feel his plush lips move softly against your skin through the cotton of his shirt that you’re wearing and for a brief second, you had wondered what it’s like to feel it directly on your exposed skin. “you won’t leave me, right?”

you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t know what he’s secretly talking about. just before he met you, he had broken up from a relationship of close to four years. you remember how he was in his healing stage when you were first properly introduced to each other. it appeared like he was a mere shell of the man he used to be.

to him, everything reminded him of her. you maintained a safe distance from him because you knew it wouldn’t be pretty if something happened and the last thing you needed was to cause infighting. your group was still fresh and looking at everything through rose-tinted glasses. you were all new to each other and there were boundaries yet to be set.

you remembered renjun sharing with you that she was her first real relationship—you still remember her name: kwang haein—and they quite literally went through thick and thin together. renjun lamented to you, saying that they didn’t exactly have the healthiest relationship and it didn’t help when they started it in high school at the ripe age of 15. it was a miracle they made it all the way to graduation.

she was someone who would manipulate him into spending time with her and gaslit him every time they got into a fight. she was emotionally unavailable and hyuck had so much love to give. every time she spared mere crumbs, he would number them and keep them to satisfy himself, considering the affection that he deserved. the worst part of it all was the fact that haein broke up with him through text of all things. she called him a narcissist for wanting to spend time with renjun and mark, rekindle what was once lost and rebuild their friendship after he realised the damage he had done to her.

you don’t know what exactly happened, but you know that haein gave this poor man abandonment issues.

tears prick from the corner of your eyes without even realising it when you recall the hurt and the pain he must have experienced during and after his relationship with her.

get a grip, you tell yourself, exhaling quietly through your lips. you quickly wipe away your tears before they fall and turn around so you can look at him. he shifts back when he realises you’re moving around. half-lidded eyes heavy with the beckoning of sleep, he looks at you in confusion.

“i’m not gonna leave you, hyuck,” you promise. before you can even catch yourself, your hand moves up to push locks of his dark brown hair away from his face. you recall his grape hair from a couple of months back. the colour looked really good on him but at the cost of his hair getting damaged since he decided to diy it himself to prove renjun wrong. he did a pretty good job, though. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. we’re good friends, aren’t we? even if we fight a lot and say that we hate each other and insult each other more than half the time.”

“yeah.” he lets his eyes fall close and you smile. “we’re friends.” your smile quickly turns into a frown. why did he sound so disappointed? you refuse to let your brain wander. there’s no use thinking about it. he’s drunk, you remind yourself. why do you have to keep telling yourself that? why does being so close to him make your heart race a mile a minute?

you choose to spend your energy waiting for him to fall asleep, watching as his chest rises and falls until it moves into a steady, slow rhythm. you quietly call out his name to check if he’s awake. he doesn’t respond. good, he’s asleep.

one good thing about him being drunk is that when he falls asleep, he can easily be mistaken for a dead body. the whole world could be collapsing all around him and he is still sound asleep.as you close his bedroom door behind him, you heard him mutter something in his slumber but you didn’t go back to check on him. you do feel bad for leaving him after you told him that you wouldn’t, but you can’t afford to skip out on the alcohol. you’re not going to leave him in general. after what had just transpired from the time you found him in his trash bag to when he asked you such a vulnerable question, you’re in desperate need to get wasted and maybe get a number to add to your body count.

⠀⠀ ⠀⌒⠀ִ ✧ ﾟ 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪

the first thing you did when you woke up the morning after was rethinking your life choices to drink and party until three in the morning. you’re good with alcohol so you didn’t get as shitfaced as you wanted to but it did enough damage to leave you slightly disoriented when the sun woke you up. after you had cleaned yourself up, you headed back to the frat house in donghyuck’s shirt and a pair of drawstring sweat shorts.

so there you are, standing in the kitchen with a renjun who’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants and an apron with a very tan bodybuilder’s body on it, making pancakes and hangover cures for the gang. honestly, the main reason why you wanted to spend some time with renjun is to ask him for his thoughts on what had happened between you and donghyuck the night before.

“renjun,” you attempt to call his name and it comes out more nervous than it should’ve. “hyuck kind of uh, said some stuff to me . . . last night. when i um, when i was tucking him into bed.” you grab one of the pancake mix boxes and start to make more pancake batter. your eyes sit on his side profile, waiting for an answer from him but all that you get is a hum to signal for you to continue speaking.

you really hope that you won’t regret spilling your guts to him. it’s noon and it’s way too early for you to be awake, especially after partying and babysitting grown men last night. nobody should be awake other than shotaro but he’s up in his room showering after he helped to clean the house up before you arrived.

you spare renjun no detail, even going back to clip bits and pieces from your past interactions together as proof points as to why his behaviour shouldn’t be so strange yet it only serves to circle back to why his behaviour was strange. he listens patiently to every word, nodding and humming to let you know that he’s still there and his mind isn’t wandering off into some faraway land.

“so, uh, yeah.” you conclude lamely, passing him the bowl of pancake batter that you made while pouring your heart out.

renjun makes eye contact with you and there’s an unrecognisable expression on his face when he takes the ceramic bowl from you. is it disappointment? is it confusion? you can’t tell and frankly, you’re too scared to ask.

“dude, we’ve been over this.” oh god, not this again. “i’ve told you so many times that he’s literally in love with you. and if i didn’t know any differently, you–”

“who’s in love with who?”

speak of the goddamn devil.

“nobody.” you quickly snap and turn around to look at donghyuck. “nobody is in love with anyone.” you steal that opportunity to take a good look at him.

his dark hair is a mess with a cowlick sticking out on the side of his head, and luckily for everyone in the room, he’s wearing a pair of grey sweats instead of waltzing into the kitchen in his boxers. unluckily for you, however, he’s not wearing a shirt. you can clearly see the dips and curves of his chest and the structured v-line that disappears past the elastic of his sweatpants along with the stupid happy trail.

“eyes up here, babe,” he winks at you before walking past, exaggerating the swing of his hips before he gives renjun a back hug. you should seriously punch him right then and there but seeing how he’s most likely dealing with a hangover (and hiding it very well), you decide to be merciful. “my pancake is making us pancakes? how sweet of you!” he presses their cheeks together and you can tell that the victim of his affection is stuck between hitting him in the face with the spatula in his hand or letting him be.

there’s no way this casanova over here is in love with you.

he would probably trade you for a $5 steam gift card. he picks on you and gets under your skin every chance he gets. he’s a damn nuisance and a pain in the ass. he’s loud, he’s throwing you inappropriate jokes every time the opportunity presents itself, and he’s such a gossip. he gives you so many reasons not to even look at him romantically so why the fuck did you get butterflies in your stomach last night?

it’s safe to say that it bothers you to the point where you’ve made it your personal mission to distance yourself from him. you’re doing this as a favour for both of you. you won’t have to deal with these confusing emotions that are stirring within you and he doesn’t have to be so fixated on you. honestly, you don’t even know what he sees in you.

donghyuck, on the other hand, sees this news that someone in your shared friend group is in love with you, as an opportunity to fix you two up together. you can be so uptight sometimes that a good fuck should help you loosen up. that’s what he thinks, anyway.

after he has breakfast and cleans himself up, he sits in his room and pulls out one of his notebooks. he flips to a random page and begins to plot out his game plan to get you a partner. if everything goes well, there’s a confession by the end of the week and if he’s lucky, you might even get a good lay. he’s doing this for your own good, and maybe a little bit of his own, because if you’re not going to look at him like he does, he should at least help the other person.

the first clue that he has is ‘he’. that’s the only clue that he has, really, but it narrows down the list of suspects pretty well. renjun and mark are obviously off the hook since they both have their own respective crushes to deal with. or maybe he can’t really say ‘crush’ for mark since he’s going to attempt to ask them out soon.

he stares at the two names that he had scribbled down: osaki shotaro and jung sungchan.

he sets the scene with you and shotaro sitting next to each other on the couch, laughing and giggling with each other. the transfer student has his arm thrown over your shoulder. he leans in for a kiss and you reciprocate. no. he then pictures you and sungchan next, doing the same things. there’s a pierce in his heart as he thinks of the possibility of you ending up with either one of them because the selfish part of him doesn’t want you to.

he wants you to end up with him. lee donghyuck, the one and only person who’s constantly getting under your skin because he likes seeing the frown on your face and the way you scrunch up your nose in annoyance. the only person who’s willing to spend the extra bucks on renting out a nice, clean car to drive you out to hongdae to eat at that japanese restaurant you love so much because he knows you’ve been stressed off your ass. the only person who showed up at your dorm with your favourite food when you got stood up by a supposed ‘ex’ in freshman year because he knows how it feels to be tossed aside for something better.

lee donghyuck wants to be the one and only person that you hold and kiss and love because he finally got a taste of it last night when he pretended to be too drunk so you could take care of him, and he doesn’t want anyone else to take it away from him.

renjun has told him before that his feelings for you will be reciprocated. he doesn’t understand it, though. if he means that you’re going to reciprocate his attempts at spending time with you, sure. that, you definitely do. he knows that you take extra care of him especially when he’s vulnerable but he’s always surmised that it’s your way of showing affection after calling him silly things like ‘shitty’ or ‘stupid’. he knows that you don’t mean a single word that you say, which is why he loves it so much when you’re both caught in this little game of cat and mouse.

if he means that you’re going to return his romantic feelings for you, he’s not going to believe it at all.

swallowing the ugly feelings that threaten to surface, he shoves them deep down and buries them away, never to be opened by anyone ever. even if he can’t be the one who makes you happy, he sure hopes this mysterious suitor can make you half as happy as you make him feel.

the first person donghyuck has to text is none other than his second beloved anime boy, shotaro. the first place, of course, belongs to none other than his frat brother nakamoto yuta. he quickly searches for his contact and begins a conversation.

his heart stops.

you and him?

partners?

he stares at his texts in shock, watching his message go from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’ and a thumbs up appear on its outer corner.

is that what you’ve both looked like to others?

immediately he pictures you on his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder as he wraps one secure arm around your waist. his free hand is yours to fiddle around with, enjoying the sensation of your skin on each other. he immediately recalls the warmth of your body when your back was pressed up against his front last night.

heat spreads from his chest to the rest of his body at the mere thought of being able to have that with you again. if there’s anything he needed last night after weeks of exams and deadline submissions, it’s you. but you arrived late to the party, dressed so simply yet so you manage to look so goddamn attractive in your oversized shirt and jeans.

pause. you were wearing his oversized shirt this morning.

he reels through his mind and scavenges through what he had witnessed in the kitchen when he came down. the first thing he saw was you, standing with your back facing him in his navy blue ncit varsity shirt and his name and number on the back.

donghyuck definitely didn’t feel jealous when you weren’t alone in the kitchen. there was a bitter taste in his mouth when he had eavesdropped enough to know that someone has a crush on you, and it pinched his heart painfully when both you and renjun looked so domestic in the little nook. but it was partly soothed when he saw renjun wearing the abs apron.

right. renjun. he needs to tell him.

it might be the shirt you had stolen from him last night when he had accidentally spilt his drink on you. does his shirt feel that comfortable? does it smell strongly like him?

his heart soars when he realises that you’re walking around campus with his name on you. you’re not his at all—you don’t belong to anybody, in fact—but this little detail has him giggling to himself alone in his room, euphoric bliss filling him up.

now, it’s time for him to figure out who the hell has a crush on you, but he doesn’t know if he wants to sabotage the crush or keep you for himself. he’ll probably decide later on. for now, he just wants to know who.

⠀⠀ ⠀⌒⠀ִ ✧ ﾟ 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪

you don’t know how or why, but you’ve come to this one conclusion: you have strong feelings for lee donghyuck. are they positive? sexual? negative? you have no idea. but every time he pops up into your mind unprompted, you feel a very strong urge to hope you spontaneously combust in the middle of whatever it is that you’re doing.

you’ve made it a point to avoid him for as long as you possibly can and in turn, avoid confronting your feelings, too.

every time he texts you to gossip or just yell in general, you do your best not to get pulled in by his theatrics and bizarre storytelling methods. you don’t want him to think you’re ignoring him even though you are, but you’re not exactly the best actor.

still in the festive spirit of being free from the shackles of painful and mind-numbing exams, a sorority is hosting a party. this time, it’s giselle and ningning’s: alpha chi ræd. even today, you still find it a little weird that giselle managed to hook up with her ex-girlfriend who is also her sorority sister.

red, purple, and black. sounds like the standard ræd party. you know that giselle and ningning are going to dress the best that they can and be sirens for the night. it’s a couple of hours away and you’re chilling in your dorm with some show playing on your monitor that you’re not really paying attention to. your ears are cushioned by your wireless headphones, walking around your room aimlessly.

should you start picking out your outfit now? it’s not like you have anything to do, anyway. your eyes flit to the time on your digital clock. you haven’t had dinner and you know better than anyone to drink on an empty stomach. chewing on your bottom lip, you grab your phone and start texting your favourite dinner buddy. his charming smile always gets you extra free food.

after sealing the promise of dinner, you turn on the lights so your room wouldn’t be drowning in complete darkness. you take off your headphones and turn off the forgotten show playing in the background serving as background noise. there’s a strong urge inside of you to text hyuck and ask him if he wants to join you and sungchan for dinner because you know he’s coming over in a heartbeat with the promise of free food.

but you don’t.

you’re not supposed to like him. you can’t. it’s going to ruin the dynamics of the friend group . . . right? you look at your phone, the screen lighting up to display a group photo you had taken together on a trip to jeju and nami islands to pretend to be tourists.

your eyes immediately find where you and donghyuck are sitting on the ground together. his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him with your thigh crossing over his. your hand throws up a peace sign while you laugh, eyes forming half crescents with your hair blocking some of your facial features. his other hand is on your cheeks, thumb and index fingers pressing them together to make you look silly. you can hear his laughter in your ears, beaming ear to ear with a grin rivalling the sun.

behind you both, everyone’s also trying to get someone else to fuck up the photo. renjun was trying to tackle mark onto the ground but he ended up getting piggybacked. ningning has sungchan in a headlock while giselle and shotaro are trying to out-tickle each other, resulting in shotaro almost falling over and tripping on hyuck.

warmth fills you from your core, spreading all over your body as your eyes wander back to you and him.

you can’t fall in love with him. you can’t risk falling for someone like him. not again.

your story isn’t half as sad as donghyuck’s—or at least, you hope it isn’t. you met someone back in freshman year. he’s on the same campus, just a year older but studying at the same level as you are.

it was during your freshman orientation. thinking about it makes you want to barf, really. he’s similar to donghyuck personality-wise and you got along with him extremely well. you could flirt and insult each other within mere seconds and it’ll all be in good heart. over a very fast period of time, he had asked you out on a date.

of course, you said yes. he’s charming, funny, and good-looking—what more could you need or want?

you were too infatuated to realise your so-called relationship was toxic and he was merely using you for a fuck buddy. he didn’t have the emotional availability, the maturity, the seriousness, or everything you needed for a secure and healthy relationship.

luckily you were able to cut ties with him and break everything off before it got any worse. you thought it was your first real relationship while in university but he decided to pull you around and toy with you.

you snap into your senses when your phone buzzes in your hand. your screen lights up with a message from donghyuck.

your fingers move to type an answer out, that there’s no way sungchan of all people would have a crush on you, but there’s a knock on the door with the man himself carrying your food.

#3: HE’S THE WORST AT KEEPING SECRETS

you take a mental note to reply to him later and in that, you’re reminded of the fact that nobody should ever tell him secrets. ever.

there are way too many times when he accidentally spoiled a surprise or ruined something because he gets way too excited. everyone knows how honest he is and sometimes he may slip up in his promise to be honest to everyone around him.

you open the door to reveal sungchan carrying a bag of food in his left hand and another bag that you assume are his party clothes. he’s clad in black slacks and matching dress sneakers, with a fishnet top underneath his oversized white tee. now, you’re kind of excited to see his final look.

“hi y/n, i have secured the munchies!” he greets you with a gentle smile and you invite him in.

“you look excited for the party.” you comment as he sets the food on the low table in the middle of your dorm room. he grins back at you as he begins unpacking while you transfer him however much you owe.

“extremely,” he sighs almost wistfully. “i’ve never been to a ræd party before and i’ve always heard good things. apparently, there’s going to be beer towers and those little shot ferris wheels and an open bar in the backyard.”

you sit down across from him and pull your kimchi fried rice towards you. a soft laugh escapes your lips from his enthusiasm. you don’t blame him. the alpha chi ræd are well-known for their impeccable music, booze, and theatrics. the alpha neos are better known for their vibes and safety.

“well, joohyun’s pretty loaded and so is wendy. it wouldn’t be out of the box for them to throw such fancy parties, especially since joohyun’s graduating top of the class for her master's degree.” you carefully peel open the lid and start to mix your food together as sungchan does the same to his bibimbap.

“speaking of parties, i was thinking that we should throw mark a canada-themed party for his birthday.” he suddenly pipes up, and you cock an eyebrow upward in question at the sudden subject shift. “i mean, obviously we won’t tell hyuck. we nearly fumbled with renjun’s birthday because he got too excited about the project.”

a bright laugh bubbles from the back of your throat at the fond memory. since renjun is an avid movie lover, everyone decided to bring him to a diy drive-in movie. well, less of a drive-in, more of a cinema in the middle of a rugby field.

giselle gave this brilliant idea to surprise him with a short film of their best or favourite moments with him. it’ll of course be concluded with a gift-giving session. in order for it all to be executed flawlessly with no holes, you had to find a way to shut donghyuck up. that meant he couldn’t be left alone with renjun at any given time.

“i still find it hilarious that he almost fucked up the film surprise because he asked renjun to airdrop him videos of the both of them.” you snicker at the memory, remembering how all of you nearly got found out thanks to his slip-up.

“it’s literally so stupid!” sungchan is laughing with you and you can’t forget when mark literally had to throw himself in and save him. “but it’s cute how their dynamic goes. hyuck is the one who lives in the moment and jun is the one who captures the moment. and hyuck is also the one asking jun for said moments when he starts to miss whatever had happened.”

no truer words have been spoken.

“i remember when he thought that mark had a crush on me. he texted it to me while i was hanging out with mark and giselle. we had literally managed to just get more comfortable with each other. god, that was lowkey traumatising.” you shake your head and start to eat your meal before it gets cold. sungchan looks at you with glimmering eyes, obviously intrigued by the idea of you and mark becoming an item (which is never). “why are you looking at me like that?”

“so i wasn’t the only one who thought that way?” he teasingly nudges your knee with his. you groan and roll your eyes at him as he laughs at your reaction. “no, seriously though! i did think that he had a crush on you!”

“for like, the millionth time,” you sigh. “mark made it very clear he was nervous around me because i scared him. i have an aura that’s ‘intimidating’ sometimes, i guess? his words. i don’t know.” you make a non-committal noise and shrug.

sungchan doesn’t say anything, only stuffing his mouth with a spoonful of his food while maintaining eye contact with you. great. another one who looks like he knows something you don’t.

“out with it.” you tiredly beckon with your free hand, eating more of your fried rice.

“speaking of crushes . . .” there he goes again. “. . . what’s up with you and hyuck? he told me that you’ve been kind of avoiding him.”

‘kind of’ is an understatement. you are absolutely, without a doubt, a hundred per cent avoiding him. you just didn’t think that you were that obvious. you didn’t really know what to say so you quietly play with your food, swallowing whatever is in your mouth before speaking.

“i . . . guess i kinda am?” you look at him, obviously unsure. “i don’t know . . . i mean . . . well . . .” you’re racking your brain for some sort of answer but you know that sungchan already knows your answer from the way you’re stammering.

he happily continues eating his food without a care in the world, satisfied with your answer.

“did he do something to piss you off?” he asks but you shake your head. he does a lot of things to try and piss you off but he hasn’t really gone too far just yet. “then what is it? did something happen at our party?” you give him the stink eye when he gets it spot-on.

sungchan straightens his back and leans in closer to you. of course he’s excited when he gets exclusive content. sometimes you can’t help but wonder if hyuck’s love for gossip managed to bleed into the systems of the others. sungchan, mark, giselle and yourself have never been one for gossip but every time hyuck says he knows something and starts sharing, you’d be very much upset if you got cockblocked while he did.

“the only person who knows what happened that night is renjun.” you begin and you do your best to put on a serious tone but with the younger male’s excitement and eager smile, you can’t help but break a small smile, chuckling through your nose. “you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

“lips are sealed, cross my heart and hope to die.” you can tell that sungchan is biting his tongue—he has more to say—but he keeps his silence and your peace, urging you to continue. you eye him suspiciously but continue regardless.

so you tell him. you know you can trust him to keep his mouth shut about it but with donghyuck’s persuasive magic that works on everyone, you try to hold yourself back from going down into the details.

the whole time you’re recounting the events of the night for the second time, you’re feeling butterflies in your stomach yet again when you recall his scent overwhelming you in the best way possible. you recall his slightly calloused hands on yours, fingers intertwined; body pressed up against yours so intimately.

sungchan took it upon himself to take your hand and scoop your rice, bringing it to your mouth wordlessly to get you to eat since you tend to forget about multitasking. you nod at him in thanks when he pulls his hand away to let you take a couple of bites and take a quick break from storytelling.

“so yeah.” you finish it off lamely, angrily taking a bite of your rice and finishing it up. “that’s the whole story.”

“you’re in love with him.”

his comment almost made you choke on your food. you manage to save yourself from dying while sungchan laughs at your misery and misfortune, glaring at him while you do until you’re able to calm down. he pushes his bottle of grape juice to you and you snatch it from him, downing the drink until you’re fine.

“what the hell do you mean ‘you’re in love with him’?” you sputter incredulously. your heart is shaking, drumming wildly against your rib cage as you rake your fingers through your hair. you? in love with him?

“why are you like, the last one to know?” he grins knowingly, leaning back on his hands.

“what the hell do you mean i’m the last one to know?!” this time, your voice increases in an octave as you almost shriek your words out. when you realise how ridiculous you sound, you clear your throat and straighten your posture. you’re suddenly reminded of donghyuck’s texts to you. this man sitting across from you does not have a crush on you.

“everyone can see you’re both like, pining after each other in your weird way.” sungchan’s grin grows wider when he’s connected the dots together.

“there’s no way.”

“oh my god, renjun was so right. you do look super constipated whenever you fight it!” your face burns up down to your neck and up to your ears. you have half the mind to throw your dirty takeout bowl at his head. “we need to get you looking absolutely smoking tonight. like an absolute hottie.”

“i’m not dressing like a stripper.” you deadpan him.

like a scene in a coming-of-age young adult movie, he’s dragging you to your closet and giving you the biggest transformation to step into the party looking ‘absolutely smoking’.

the first thing that he pulls out is the very black bustier top that hyuck had said you look really good in. sungchan continues digging through your closet until he finds a maroon leather mini skirt with a split hem that you haven’t worn in ages and throws it to you.

you look at the two articles of clothing, unsure. you turn to look at him.

“trust the process!” that is his favourite thing to say. maybe you will. for the sake of not getting blacklisted to a ræd party.

after you brush your teeth and get dressed up, he nods in agreement when you let him back into your dorm.

“you look so good, hyuck is gonna be all over you tonight!” your face burns up again, your heart fluttering in your chest and you glare at him.

“that’s not the point of the outfit.” you deadpan.

“yes, it is.” sungchan insists, pointing at what should be a dresser but is more of a station for you to get ready and take photos of your outfit. you shoot him a dirty look but make your way over anyway. “you’re going to look hot and irresistible and all eyes are going to be on you.”

“i’m not in the beauty inside.” you roll your eyes and pick up the tools to properly enhance your facial features. he shrugs and moves over to your monitor to play some music for you both to get ready for the party.

you can hear him giggling and typing away on his phone while yours tries to throw itself off your bed from vibrating too hard. so the group is active. you take a quick glance at the clock and it’s ticking down to the golden hour. outside, the sky has already darkened, coating the entire city in an ocean of navy and black with speckles of twinkling stars.

you don’t do too much with your makeup, merely going as natural as you can but you grunge up your look with dark lipstick and highlights where it’ll enhance your best features. it’s a night full of partying, drinking, dancing, and making out with hot strangers. people will most likely be too drunk to think twice about what someone else looks like.

“‘kay, i’m done.” you announce out loud, packing up all of the things you used and storing them away. sungchan helps you onto your feet before stepping back to look at you from head to toe. you watch him cautiously, slouching a little but immediately snap to attention when he sighs and stares at you, silently telling you to stand properly. honestly, it feels like your mom is making you show off the outfit she got you.

he makes a circle in the air with his index finger, wanting you to spin for him. you exhale a heavy sigh but you do it begrudgingly and give him the best model turn you can.

“okay, okay, i see you!” he cheers you on and it gives you a much-needed confidence booth. “alright, let’s head to the biggest party hosted by ræd and get bitches on our dicks!”

“god, you are so weird.” you laugh as you grab a small shoulder bag that’ll keep your necessities safe.

when you’re walking to the party, you’re able to spot the sorority from a mile away. there are bright lights and projections into the sky, music thundering and filling up the empty night air, and bass shaking the ground with more vigour with every step that you take.

you know how big ræd parties are but for some reason, you feel a little nervous. you shouldn’t, but you are.

as you walk up to the door, there’s already a lot going on. people are making out on the front lawn on the verge of having sex in front of everyone, you spot a freshman dressed up to impress talking to a very disinterested person that you recognise to be sunwoo from one of your classes. the corner of your lips quirked upward into a smile. you’re definitely going to find him to tease him about it.

“y/n! sungchannie!” ningning’s voice manages to dominate the blaring music and catch your attention. you turn and see her with a drink in hand and her cheeks absolutely flushed. is that the blush or the alcohol’s work?

she’s wearing a royal purple silk bandana top wrapped around her chest and black low-rise ripped shorts. her indigo heeled boots click against the hardwood floor as she rushes over, dyed hair bouncing in its high pony.

“ning, hey!” you and sungchan both speed up to meet her halfway, passing the threshold and immediately melting into a crowd of chatterboxes, drunks, people making out, and dancers. they’re playing some song you don’t recognise but it’s along the genres of r&b and indie pop so naturally, everyone is eating up what the trendsetters are feeding them.

“you made it and you both look like absolute sluts!” she squeals excitedly, pulling you into a hug and you all laugh together, squeezing her a little before you let go. “the alpha neos are here already, you’re both always the latest!” she chastises but she pouts when she gives you both another once-over. “but you look so good! fashionably late, and fuck, you both look so sexy, i’d make out with you right now.”

“kinda swaying towards the other team right now, ning. if i’m swaying back to how my parents wanted me, i’ll let you know.” sungchan plays along with her faux flirting, throwing a wink her way and she laughs brightly.

“okay okay, go mingle, find a hottie to make out with, i don’t care—have fun! sooyoung put me in charge of welcoming people til like, ten, so i have to stay sober til then. i’ll catch up with you guys later. drinks are in the backyard!” after speeding through her brief, she disappears to greet more people. sungchan and you exchange looks before chuckling.

“alright, i’m gonna go get myself my fix.” you tell him. so there really is an open bar in the backyard like what he said earlier. such a weird detail, but it sure as hell makes the party a lot more interesting.

“sounds good. i’m going to look around and decide what i want to do. i never know how to act at parties.” he complains to himself. a short sigh later and he looks where the sea of people beckons him. “i’ll catch you whenever. have fun and stay safe, y/n.” he gives you one final hug before you both part ways.

after snaking through crowds of dancing people and slinking through dimly-lit hallways with people pressed up against walls to make out or smoke, you finally find the backyard behind sliding glass doors. there’s literally an open bar with a bartender out of a food truck and a pool right next to it. your eyes search for any indication that you’ll have to pay for your drinks as you approach the vehicle and when there’s none, you lean up against the counter and flash your best smile to her.

she notices you almost immediately and smiles back as she makes her way to you. her name tag shines with moonbyul embedded into the silver metal. that’s such a pretty name.

“hi there,” she greets you warmly while setting down the glass that she was cleaning. “how can i be of service?”

“can i have two sour plum shots, please?” you request politely. she nods and starts your order.

moonbyul turns around to grab a bottle and starts mixing the drink for you. you watch as if caught in a trance, her movements fluid like a dance. from the corner of your eye, you thought you had seen donghyuck. a quick second take later and it was indeed him. suddenly you’re praying to all of the gods that you know so he won’t try and approach you. he catches your eye and you quickly turn back to the bartender, hoping she’ll hurry up with your drinks.

in a four-storey sorority house full of partygoers and people hungry for a quick lay, there’s not going to be a chance of you bumping into him. right? even if there is, it’s going to be a low percentage. you take another peek in his direction and someone you don’t recognise is chatting him up and you exhale through your lips in relief.

she returns with two shot glasses full of honey-coloured poison and a smile that could literally charm your skirt off in an instant. for a second, you had almost forgotten about him. what kind of sorcery does this woman possess?

“how much is it? i hope you take bank transfers.” you awkwardly laugh but she immediately shakes her head.

“don’t worry about it. it’s four bucks since you’re cute.” heat rushes to your cheeks and you smile shyly, mumbling a quiet word of thanks as you make your payment. you down the two shots back to back and disappear back into the house. there’s barely any time for your body to process the alcohol and you hope that it’ll kick in as soon as you hit the living room where people are dancing.

you catch a whiff of the cannabis and peach-stained air when you walk through the dimly lit hallway again, letting it fill your body as you begin to feel the slight buzz of your liquor. the first person that catches your eye on the dance floor is giselle. there are way too many people in the living room dancing—there’s no way he’ll find you here.

“y/n!” she slurs the final syllable of your name with a lazy grin on her face. her cheeks are flushed with alcohol as she stumbles to you, pushing through the crowd to pull you in. you gladly allow yourself to be welcomed by her, laughing as she gives you a tight hug. “come dance with me!”

she immediately turns around to press her back against your chest and you put your hands on her waist, laughing with your head thrown back. you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or the people you’re surrounded by but you’re immediately getting drawn into this coven of sirens on the dance floor.

the music fills you from your fingertips, bass reverberating in your bones as you let your body follow the groove. giselle grinds into you, surprising you, but you quickly recover and let her do whatever she wants. you quickly recognise the song to be madison beer’s baby, and you’re devoured with a lust to be a little slutty.

someone taps your shoulder and you turn around to find a very attractive woman that you don’t recognise. she offers to dance with you and you quickly agree as her hands find your waist. your hands loop around her neck and you’re pulling each other impossibly closer.

you mouth the lyrics with a charming smile and heavy-lidded eyes, swaying your hips seductively. her dark oculars watch your every move with the corner of her lips curled upwards in a lazy smirk and god, that looks really hot.

in a quest to make her melt, you take advantage of the loosened tie that hangs around her neck. with one hand you pull her towards you until your faces are mere inches away, teasing a kiss before you let her go and turn around instead.

alcohol, power, and confidence surge through your veins with the heavy bass acting as a guide for the intoxication.

“such a tease,” she hums lowly in your ear. a bright laugh escapes your lips, shivering involuntarily as her nose gently glides along your collarbone before pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. “you smell so good, too.”

before you can reply, your eyes spot donghyuck from across the dance floor. he visibly lights up when you catch his gaze but you’re stiffening up and immediately searching for an exit. you hate it when he gets like this.

#2: HE CAN GET TOO PERSISTENT

you free yourself from giselle and your hot mysterious stranger, eyes scanning the bodies you’re surrounded by until you find an opening where you can flee. he’s about to make his way to you and that’s when you duck your head and snake your way out.

your heart is beating out of your rib cage as you spot a room with no light on with the door left slightly ajar. without a moment of hesitation, your feet are taking you there and closing the door shut behind you. luckily the room isn’t occupied so you can stay in there for a while.

you stagger slightly in your steps, feeling the gentle buzz of the alcohol underneath your fingertips. a soft sigh escapes you.

there is no way that you can avoid him all night while having fun but there’s no harm in trying. he’s an immovable object but you’re an unstoppable force. you can outwit his unrelenting nature. probably.

what are you even going to do if he finally catches up to you, anyway? the break before summer break has been serving you perfectly when it comes to avoiding donghyuck after that party. however, even as you keep running away from him, he comes haunting you in your dreams and you mean it literally.

you had a dream of him with his tongue down your throat and his large hand shoved into your underwear. when you woke up, you were feeling things. you aren’t supposed to feel anything for him!

needing a quick break, you pull out your phone to check your notifications. unfortunately, even there he’s made an appearance and by the looks of it, he’s not going to go away any time soon. you delete all of your notifications from him in fear you may accidentally press on one of them and then you’ll have to read whatever was sent. and then he’ll start hounding you on why you left him on read.

after exactly three minutes have passed, you take a deep breath and dive back into the party. there’s no reason for you to be nervous. he should be far away from you now, in some corner of the sorority searching for you. you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t feel guilty.

you decide to sneak back to the bar to get yourself another shot or two. the alcohol is good to get you feeling the buzz, but not strong enough to get you drunk. maybe you should have taken four at once earlier.

moonbyul chuckles to herself when she sees you approaching the bar again within the span of an hour. at the very least, you’re glad to see her too. she’s handsomely leaning against the countertop and greets you with a smile.

“welcome back, gorgeous.” she waves before straightening herself and placing her hands on her hips. “i see the sour plum shots barely did anything to you.”

“and if i said i only came back for you?” you flirt brazenly with a grin on your face, watching her features morph as she laughs lightly. it might be the booze but she looks so stunning you’re almost at a loss for words.

“then i’ll get you a free drink on the house because you’re rather eye-catching.” she winks and your plans to be a casanova immediately burn up into flames as your face heats up. “cute.” she mumbles to herself before turning around to make a drink specially for you.

you fiddle with the details on your bag, pinching the fabric as if you’re waiting for donghyuck to literally just show up and you’ll have to face him. you don’t want to. not under any circumstance. you’re not ready for the conversation that comes after, the feelings that may surface after you bottle them up.

your phone starts buzzing in your hand and you see it’s him texting you again. there’s a pinch in your heart and you shove your phone into your bag. you came here to let go; to let loose. you didn’t come here to talk to him about what could possibly be between both of you.

when moonbyul presents you with a pretty glass of a pink drink that is literally glittering, you blow her an air kiss and she winks back at you. you don’t know what’s in it but you hope it’s the right dosage of poison.

you head back into the house and slowly drink it, savouring the taste of the various liquor mixed with fruit juice. it burns smoothly down your throat with a delectable concoction that runs straight to your brain. oh yeah, this is the one.

in the back of your mind, you can hear shotaro and renjun scolding you, telling you to slow down before you fuck yourself over. part of you wants to ignore them but you’d feel too guilty. you love them too much not to listen to them. renjun can get scary when he’s upset, too. a quiet sigh passes your liquor-tinted lips and you ascend to the second level in another feeble attempt to throw donghyuck off your trail.

there’s no direction you’re heading to—you’re just searching for a distraction. you swirl your drink in your hand, letting the music and the alcohol mingle in your veins as your eyes scan the area lazily. one arm extends across your waist, stopping you from pursuing any further and spinning you around to find renjun.

“you’re avoiding hyuck.” that is the first thing that comes out of his lips. his eyes narrow when he sees your pretty glass of poison.

“no i’m not.” you insist with a slight frown. you’re lying straight through your teeth and you both know it.

renjun takes your glass from you and takes a whiff of it and groans at the strong stench of alcohol. is it really that strong? you barely felt anything.

“how much have you had to drink?”

“not enough.” you grumble in annoyance like a kid getting caught stealing cookies from the jar.

“i’m cutting you off.” your eyes widen and you look at him incredulously, ready to protest but his stern gaze makes it clear that it’s not up for debate. your shoulders sink in defeat. he swaps your drink for his and so does his tone for a gentle, kind one. “here, have some water. i heard from ning that you arrived with sungchan almost an hour ago. slow down, please?”

you swallow thickly, bringing the cup to your lips and sipping on the water. you don’t like it but it’s not like you have a choice in the matter.

“fine . . .” you mumble into the cup before taking a generous gulp.

“why are you avoiding him? is this because of what happened at the party?” you’re almost unnerved at how easily he’s able to read you. “you do realise that you are both kind of, i don’t know, you’re both good for each other? in your weird way? nobody understands it but everybody knows it. it’s clear as day, you need to stop fighting it. whatever happened between you and that guy isn’t what’s going to happen between you and hyuck. you know that, right?”

he speaks the truth aloud and it knocks just enough sense into you for you to sober up against your will. you eye him watchfully and he cocks an eyebrow upward.

“god, i hate you so much.” tears threaten to prick the corner of your eyes and renjun chuckles when he realises you’re on the verge of crying. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small pack of tissues. you let him dab your tears away carefully.

“yeah, yeah,” he chuckles through his nose. “as big of a house this is, it’s still enclosed by four walls. and you look really good tonight. someone as attractive as you shouldn't be crying at a place like this.”

you glare at him as more tears break the dam.

“oi, why the hell are you crying harder?!” he laughs but you know it’s his way of trying to cheer you up. you break a short laugh in between tears. he’s the only one who knows what happened between that guy and yourself. you didn’t really allow yourself to talk to anyone about it.

when you finally manage to calm down, he gives you a tight hug and you take a deep breath. you’re still going to avoid hyuck, though. you’re not ready to face your feelings just yet. even when he’s not here, he’s still so persistent when it comes to you. you wouldn’t be surprised if he manifested this shit.

renjun lets you go with a pat on the head after you finish the cup of water.

you disappear further into the second floor, in search of something to do, perhaps someone to talk to and keep you occupied as you think of your next move. how long are you going to keep avoiding him? that’s a good question. maybe for as long as you possibly can. it’s a tough game to play especially when your opponent is the ever-so-determined lee donghyuck, but you hope for your own victory.

there’s not much on the second floor besides a communal area where people are in a circle smoking joints and a balcony right behind it where you can have a view of the entire campus town. bummed out by the lack of festivities, you head back downstairs to find someone to bother. you haven’t seen mark, giselle, and shotaro. maybe you should try your luck with one of them.

you find yourself lurking along the walls, hoping that you’ll find someone you recognise so you can say hello to them. the dance floor seems a lot less busy than before so you decide to tag in. maybe that mysterious stranger will come back to find you again.

“y/n?” that’s a voice you never want to hear for the rest of your life. you quickly spin around to see the man who led you on and broke your heart with a charming smile on his face.

there he is, standing before you with the same smile like what happened a couple of years back wasn’t a big deal. you’re not the best when it comes to processing your feelings and just shoved them deep down in hopes you’ll forget, but you never did. how could you forget some of the fondest memories you’ve made in your second year of university?

“song mingi.” you exhale through your lips, eyes wide as you take in his appearance. his hair is dark now, compared to the dyed blond he sported then. he’s wearing a shimmery purple button-up with his sleeves rolled to his elbows and the buttons undone halfway, showing off his physique. you swallow thickly. what do you even say to him?

“you look . . . you look really fucking amazing.” he chuckles through his nose. he gestures to the dancing bodies around you but you can’t find it in yourself to move, to tear your gaze away, to breathe. you’re caught in a spell cast by him years ago, reactivated by his mere presence. “can we dance?”

“i . . . mingi–“ you start to protest, but the words are stuck in the back of your throat as you look back at him all doe-eyed and naïve like you did back then.

“just one dance, please? i want to–“

in the blink of an eye, donghyuck’s scent overwhelms your senses. no longer do you see mingi but it’s donghyuck’s broad shoulders blocking most of your view. you don’t know how he managed to wedge himself so quickly between your bodies but he did, and you finally remember to let go of the breath you didn’t even realise you were holding.

“y/n doesn’t want anything to do with you.” his voice is stern and steady, half an octave deeper than how he usually speaks.

“hyuck . . .” your call for him falls on deaf ears.

“who are you–“

“it doesn’t matter. you’ve dealt your damage.” donghyuck takes the opportunity to grab your wrist gently yet firmly to drag you off of the dance floor. your heart starts to beat rapidly against your chest. “y/n, what were you thinking?” he chastises you as he continues leading you far away from the noise.

he’s speaking to you, probably scolding you for freezing up like that, but not a single one of his words registers in your brain. you’re staring—no, admiring—his appearance, the beauty marks on his face, his dishevelled hair, until you both stop at the end of the hallway on the second floor. at least you know you’ll have some privacy.

“y/n.” he sternly calls out your name and you dazedly snap to attention. “y/n, why have you been ignoring me? was it something i did? something i said?”

“no,” you frown, avoiding eye contact entirely. you start to feel antsy, fingers itching to toy with the hem of your leather skirt.

“then what is it? i don’t . . . i don’t want to stop being around you.” he sounds so dejected with his voice dying out, merely whispering the last part but you catch them as soon as the words leave his plump lips.

“it’s not . . . no.” you’re choking up, obviously at a loss for words. where do you even begin? “i . . . hyuck, you’re always on my goddamn mind.” you blurt out angrily, not even meaning to sound pissed off. but at that moment, you are. you’re burning from the neck up and your hands form fists at your sides. but you’re not angry at him—you’re angry at yourself.

“what?” he dumbly asks as he gapes at you.

#1: HE BROKE DOWN YOUR WALLS WITHOUT YOU EVEN REALISING IT

you hate him so fucking much.

you clench your jaw, grounding yourself before you continue. if you’re going to do this whole emotions thing, you’re going to do it your way. all of your feelings are climbing their way to the top, freeing themselves from the once-unbreakable confines as they race to the back of your throat. you look at him with pleading eyes to apologise quietly before you turn away.

“you . . . fuck, lee donghyuck. do you have any idea what you do to me? you . . . you’re so fucking annoying. you get under my skin. you make me wanna chuck a metal ball at your head half the time.” you start pacing back and forth, sometimes pausing to make eye contact with him before you’re back on your rant. “you’re so insufferable with your stupid comments—you always have something to say. always so fucking loud, always so– ugh!” you throw your hands up in the air in frustration.

“i-i’m sorry, i didn’t realise i was–“

“shut the fuck up.” you snap immediately, turning sharply to him with a pointed finger. there’s a pause and you realise just how livid you sound. you apologise to him softly and drop your hands to your sides. one quick glance at him and it literally breaks your heart. you were supposed to harbour your feelings so it wouldn’t put you both in a bad spot.

you sigh and run your fingers through your hair. so now you’ve done it. you’ve told him how irritating he can be, but you still haven’t told him the most crucial part yet. he’s been looking at you this whole time, waiting for you to continue and clinging on to every word you’ve said as if he’ll crash and fall if he doesn’t. you take a deep breath.

“despite all of that shit you somehow make me . . . fuck, you make me feel happy.” your voice cracks as you turn to look at him. your heart is trembling and so are your hands. “you . . . you make me laugh. you fucking– ugh, i feel safe around you. i can’t even be properly fucking mad at you. i don’t– do you know how fucking annoying that is? i hate you so goddamn much because you managed to tear through these walls i built without even me knowing it. you made your own space with me in my sanctuary and holy fucking shit, i hate you so much because i think i’m fucking in love with you.”

you said it.

“y/n.” he chuckles dryly and reaches his hand out to get your attention. you gnaw on your bottom lips, already stressing out over the word vomit. you desperately turn away and refuse to make eye contact with him. “y/n baby, look at me, please?”

every time he says your name, it’s like he’s holding the weight of a god’s name with it. he says it so softly and sweetly you want to break down and cry because nobody has ever said your name like that before. and the pet name? god, you’re melting but you don’t want to let go. you’re holding on to the last bits of control that you have.

donghyuck steps closer to you slowly like you’re a wild animal cornered by something foreign. he’s calm and calculated with his movements, calloused hand reaching to cup your cheek and you melt at the warmth of his touch, eyes fluttering as you let him guide your gaze to meet his.

“y/n, my angel,” he softly whispers. “i didn’t realise you already feel the same. if i’d known earlier, i wouldn’t have waited so long.” your brows furrow slightly, obviously confused.

“what?”

“i wasn’t sure you’d even look my way, i thought you were just indulging me like everyone else does. when renjun told me what happened between you and mingi, i swore to myself to never let any harm come to you, ever.” he takes a deep breath before continuing. “and fuck, i’m so happy that i make you happy like that. i just– fuck, y/n, you deserve to be happy. you deserve to be spoiled, you deserve to be loved, i can’t believe you closed yourself off because of one asshole. so please, please, i fucking beg—let me make you happy for as long as i can. let me love you for as long as i can. let me be your safe haven for as long as i can because i know i’ll fucking regret it if i don’t.”

“hyuck?” you whisper.

“yeah, baby?” god, you want to hear that every second of every single day for the rest of your life if you could. he notices your obvious reaction to it and he laughs quietly. “you like it when i call you baby?”

“fuck yeah, i do,” you nod. “kiss me.”

“thought you’d never ask.” he grins widely, dark eyes glimmering in pure ecstasy.

donghyuck’s left hand snakes down to your hip and pins you down to the nearest wall as soon as your lips meet. his are just as soft as you’d imagine them to be, the cool metal of his lip ring a stark contrast that sends an involuntary shiver up your spine. he’s gentle as he kisses you, savouring the liquor on your lips as you do his, eyes fluttering close as you wrap your hands around his neck to pull him closer to you.

a soft groan leaves his lips when you suckle on his bottom lip and his reaction causes heat to stir in your core. motivated by a hunger to get closer to him, one of your hands reaches down to loop and finger through his belt loop to pull his hips closer to yours. he instantly picks up what you’re putting down, pushing yours closer to his as he decides to crane your cheek to the side.

his lips leave yours and you whine quietly, already missing the mix of hot and cold, but it quickly turns into a sigh of pleasure when he starts searching for your weak spots along the canvas of your neck. within a heartbeat, he finds one of them and he nibbles and suckles on the spot the second he hears you sighing in pleasure again.

“hyuck . . .” you whimper his name and he growls into your hot skin. immediately you feel something poke against your thigh, which sets off fireworks in your rapidly beating heart and a rush of heat straight to your core.

“don’t say my name like that,” donghyuck warns, voice dropping an octave lower. “i won’t be able to control myself if you do, baby.” with the way he’s licking fat stripes and sinking his teeth into your skin to draw out the lewdest sounds from your mouth, you don’t want him to be tame.

you want him to lay his claim on you until the heavens bear both your sins.

your fingers run into his dark tresses, guiding him to the exact spot that’ll make your knees weak. he hums in approval when you roll your hips against his but he grunts when you moan out his name again. the grip he has on your hip tightens as if warning you even more as he continues to discover where to touch, tease, kiss, and bite until you’re putty in his hands.

“hyuck, please,” you whisper in his ear. you’re ready to tease him and push his buttons into getting what you want but he shuts you with a searing kiss, pushing you flat against the wall behind. the mixture of his hot lips and cold piercing sends your head into a tailspin as you moan into his mouth.

“you know exactly what you’re doing when you say my name like that, don’t you?” he brushes his thumb against your cheekbones fondly yet his sweet words betray the tint of condescension that laces his voice. you brazenly grin up at him. of course you know exactly what you’re doing.

donghyuck leads his thumb to your lips this time, tilting your chin up towards his face. he doesn’t hide the fact that his eyes are zeroed in on that feature of yours when you take his thumb past and into your mouth.

his gaze darkens as you generously suck on the digit, tongue swirling around it and pulling it in with every suck. the corners of your lips curl upward into a smirk knowing that he’s doing nothing to hide the boner straining in his pants. you don’t want to wait anymore; not when you can feel heat looking in your underwear until you have to press your thighs together to relieve the ache.

even when he’s entranced by you, he doesn’t let anything slide. the second he notices your plush thighs rubbing against each other, he pushes his knee between and bumps it against your core. you look up at him and he’s smirking lazily at you.

“does my baby need something from me?” you ought to melt right there caged within his arms from the way he purrs the pet name so lovingly into your ear.

“i want you.” to emphasise your statement, you grind yourself down against his knee and a timid moan falls from your lips. “i need you, hyuckie.”

“fuck, y/n,” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder. both of his hands find purchase on your hips, guiding you as you grind against it, relishing in the friction against his pants. it feels good but it’s not enough—you need all of him. you want him to devour you until he’s coming back for more even after he’s had his fill.

“hyuck, i’m begging you,” you plead in desperation. “fuck me before i find mingi to do it.”

in an instant, you know you’ve pushed the right buttons to get him to act on his desires and throw caution into the wind. he grabs your wrist and immediately finds the nearest open bedroom. you follow dumbfoundedly with your lips parted, entranced with how he switched from being teasing to taking command. it’s kinda hot.

“you’re gonna regret ever saying that, baby.” he warns when he finds an unlocked door, flicking on the light switch. you don’t recognise the room but you’re not given the option to observe when he pulls you in and locks the door as he pins you against the wood, lips finding yours and uniting you both with a hot kiss.

you mewl into his mouth when he takes both your wrists and pins them above your head with one hand, the other pawing at you through your clothes. you had chosen to not wear a bra that night since the top gives enough support and you do not regret your decision at all when he finds your perked nipples to pinch them gently. the contact makes your jaw hang loose with a moan caught in the back of your throat as he slides his tongue in to taste the alcohol that you previously intoxicated yourself with.

your hips find a mind of their own, rolling into his to quietly beg for some friction where your pussy is throbbing for attention.

donghyuck lets go of your wrists so he can make quick work of your clothes, stripping you down until you’re left in nothing but your underwear while he remains fully dressed. his mouth detaches from you and before you can dare to complain, he wraps his lips around a pert bud so he can hear you moan for him. he smiles around your nipple, enjoying the symphony of sweet cries coming from you as he swirls his tongue while one hand takes the other between his thumb and index finger to tug and tease.

“hyuckie . . .” you sigh softly just as your fingers run through his dark tresses to gently pull at them, every little ministration doing nothing to help the ache between your legs. as if he knows that your cunt is feeling neglected, he dives his other hand into your underwear and hums in satisfaction at what he finds. he releases your breast with a wet pop, rising back up to find your lips for a sweet kiss.

“who are you so wet for, hm?” his fingers reach between your lips and you can hear how wet you are, blood rushing to your cheeks at the lewd sound. “is it mingi?” he cocks an eyebrow upward, practically spitting out your ex’s name with venom when he finds your throbbing clit and gently pinches it.

“n-no! fuck, no, never!” you squeal at the jolt of pain and pleasure sending a shockwave straight to your brain. you shake your head to let him know that it’s not mingi, wanting to let him know that it’ll only be him who makes you this wet, but your throat runs dry as soon as he sinks his middle finger in.

“no?” he echoes, slowly sliding his finger in and out of your cunt to watch you scrunch your face up in pleasure. “then who’s it for?”

your eyes flash open when he completely halts his movements. his eyes widen too but in faux surprise to mock you and god, you really want to choke him for that. you’re about to taste heaven but he’s purposely dragging it away from you.

“who’s it for, baby?”

“it’s for you, asshole.” you bite back and this time, he’s truly in shock with his eyebrows raising at your sudden outburst. when it finally registers in your brain what you had just called him, you gasp quietly, ready to apologise but the air gets knocked out of your lungs before you can.

donghyuck’s finger slips from your underwear, hands firm on your hips, and he spins you around to pin you down to the bed. from beneath him, you watch in a mix of trepidation and arousal as he rips the fabric apart with his bare hands. you had expected him to throw it over his shoulders but he pockets it in his pants instead.

“h-hyuck, i-i’m sorry, didn’t mean to–”

a gentle, wet smack against your clit shuts you up instantly. it’s another jolt of pleasure that makes heat rush to your core even more, the sensitive bundle of nerves begging for attention with a soft throb.

“since i’m an asshole,” he begins, licking his lips. your focus immediately zones in on his silver lip ring shining as he gets onto his knees. your gaze flits back to his and his eyes are fully blown with greed and a feral hunger reserved for you. knowing that you have him so worked up like this sends another kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering in your stomach and they burn into little flames of lust that melt into your body. “you’re not cumming until i say that you can.”

he grabs the back of your thighs and dives into your cunt, thumbs pulling your pussy lips apart as he starts to lap at your juices like a man starved. trickles of electricity run up your spine as your fingers fall to his hair, grabbing onto whatever you can as you throw your head back in pure pleasure.

the heavy, wet muscle sharpens at the tip to flick at your clit while two fingers dip into your heat. your body burns, hips lifting off the bed only to be forcefully restrained again by his arms. he curls his fingers as he sets a steady pace to relish in the way your walls wrap around them, wondering just how good his cock will feel when he finally fucks your brains out. you’re not holding yourself back either, tugging at his hair and moaning his name with bits of apologies caught in between stammers but he pays no attention to you.

“fuck, hyuck, right there!” you gasp, clamping down around him when he hooks his digits and his fingertips brush against the spot that calls for your orgasm. he wraps his lips around your clit, suckling gently, and you can feel him smile when a high-pitched moan of his name falls from you. “shit, oh my god–”

he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a rougher pace, making scissoring motions to stretch you out only for your walls to stubbornly tighten around him. a knot starts to form in your belly without warning and you’re now fearing what he’ll do when you’re going to cum. yet that fear turns you on even more, a high-pitched cry bouncing off the walls when he sucks on your clit stronger.

as much as you try to roll your hips into his face to feel him deeper, he pins you in place, not allowing you any movement and you tug at his hair in annoyance. your eyes fall down to look at him and you could instantly come undone from the view.

donghyuck already has his gaze fixed on you, watching your every expression and you melt underneath his hold with a meek mewl. he cocks an eyebrow upward at the same time he harshly suckles on your bud, drawing out a louder moan of pleasure from you. his lips let go of it, choosing to roll his tongue languidly while his fingers relentlessly tease your g-spot.

“h-hyuck, please, i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” you manage to cry out, the knot tightening and threatening to break free. “i’m gonna cum, please, i need to cum so bad, i’ll be good, i’m sorry!” tears prick the corners of your eyes and he rests the side of his face against the inside of your thigh, pouting in mock pity as he starts fucking his fingers deeper and faster into your cunt.

“aww, you’re gonna cum?” he coos, laughing when you nod desperately and clear drops tumble down your cheeks. he’s such an asshole. you want to take the reins and make him pay for it but all you can think of is how hot he is when he’s mocking you like this. it doesn’t stop your stomach from twisting, your walls from clenching around his digits, and your body aching for sweet release. “i dunno y/n, do you deserve it?”

“yes, fuck, i do, i promise!” your back arches when his fingertips rub directly against your g-spot, fingers slipping from his hair to grab at the sheets beneath you. “please, i’ll be so– i’ll be so good for you, hyuck, i only want you. nobody else, please!”

you’re doing your best to keep your orgasm at bay but he’s pushing you further to your edge to test just how far you can go with a mischievous grin on his face. you hear fabric getting pushed around but you can barely think of anything else when his fingers are toying with your cunt and clit. your orgasm creeps closer and closer, threatening to come apart on his fingers alone but you want to cum around his cock. you gnaw on your bottom lip in an ardent effort to control yourself but donghyuck had other plans for you.

he pulls his fingers from you and immediately shoves his cock into your awaiting cunt.

the stretch burns perfectly as you struggle to accommodate his size, cockhead hot and heavy as it generously kisses your g-spot. that was it. as soon as he sinks himself fully, you’re cumming around his cock with a piercing cry of his name, back arching into the air as your entire body trembles. it hits you like a rippling wave, goosebumps set alight along your arms as you form white rings around him.

“oh fuck, shit, oh my fucking– fuck, y/n, baby you’re so fucking tight.” a slew of profanities tumbles from his lips as he stays completely still, not wanting to hurt you but his thumb taps gently at your clit as he helps you through your orgasm. he waits for you to come down from your high, taking that moment to pull his tie-dye shirt over his head and toss it in a corner to be forgotten.

you pant heavily underneath him, eyes half-lidded as he leans down to pepper soft kisses all over your face. it’s a strange feeling to feel his hot lips against your own burning skin but the coolness of his lip ring manages to give you a small slice of relief. with his clean hand, he pushes away the locks of your hair that block his view of your face, chuckling to himself when you look up at him with pleading doe eyes. you finally have a taste of him and all it does is leave you wanting more.

“did my fingers feel that good, baby?” he hums against your forehead before kissing you. you nod dazedly in reply. your throat feels far too dry to be able to say anything so you do your best by swallowing your saliva. “don’t pass out just yet, pretty. we’ve barely started.”

you whine, throwing your head back from the teasing at the same time your walls clench around his cock from his words. you feel so full with him sheathed fully inside of you, tip kissing the bundle of nerves deep inside of you effortlessly that even the slightest movement can make you squirm beneath him.

“hyuck,” you sigh quietly. your hands reach up to cup his strikingly handsome face, watching closely as he leans into you to kiss you again. god, you’re never going to get tired of his lips on you. you gaze deep into his eyes when he pulls away for air, “make me yours. i want all of you.”

“i’m gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine, baby.” it’s a promise that you know he intends to keep when his lips meet yours once more, hips slowly rolling up against yours. you moan into his mouth, eyelids fluttering shut and you wrap your legs around his torso to pull him closer. he starts to slowly withdraw his cock from your cunt and begin at a slow and steady pace, being mindful of the fact that you had just come down from your first high of the night. “god, i didn’t think you’d feel this fucking tight. you’re so much better than what i’d imagined.”

“you touched yourself to me?” what leaves your throat is a mix of a gasp and a moan, walls stubbornly clenching around him when he pushes himself back into you.

“how could i not?” donghyuck scoffs through his nose. one of his hands snakes between both your bodies as he languidly thrusts in and out, rolling your clit underneath his thumb so your slick will lubricate his cock as if you’re not already soaking wet for him. “you’re the person of my fucking dreams. remember that shirt of mine you stole recently, baby? yeah? i came so hard when i fucked my fist wishing it was your tight little pussy.”

you whine at his words, images of him touching himself in his room to the thought of you appearing in your mind so clearly that your walls clamp around him. he starts to speed up while he searches for the right angle that’ll make you scream your lungs out for him.

“yeah? y’like that, baby? love the way that i touch myself to you like a damn pervert?” he punctuates the last word with a particularly harsh thrust upwards into your pussy and you gasp for air, eyes rolling back and toes curling in. “right there?”

“fuck, yes!”

he throws one of your knees over his shoulders and steadies himself at a comfortable position. he withdraws his cock from you until his cockhead is barely wrapped by your twitching hole before he starts to fuck into you. his name is ripped from your throat as he sets a brutal pace, hips pistoning in and out mercilessly, tufts of trimmed hair rubbing against your clit. you’re still sensitive from your previous orgasm and you know it’s not going to take too much for you to cum again.

beads of sweat drip down from his hairline, sliding down to his chiselled cheekbone to fall onto the sheets beneath you. you feel every thrust deep in your stomach, getting absolutely drunk on the feeling of his cock filling you up and stretching your walls beyond comprehension. every harsh thrust and drag of his cock in and out of your cunt sends you closer and closer to the edge as tears spring from the corners of your eyes.

“does my cock feel that good, baby?” donghyuck croons sweetly.

“yeah, s’fucking good,” you slur dazedly and hope that it makes even an iota of sense to him.

“mingi won’t ever be able to fuck you like this.” he growls and suddenly his thrusts are getting rougher. you guess that it’s motivating him further to plough into you, bed creaking with every light bounce of your body underneath him. “nah. he’s never gonna make you scream like i do. he’s never gonna treat you half as well as i do, isn’t that right, pretty baby?”

tears flow down your hot cheeks, blurring your vision but you can see how his teeth toy with his lip ring, equally agitated and pissed that you’d been treated badly. you mewl his name weakly to try and snap him out of it but he doesn’t hear it at all. instead, he readjusts your position.

donghyuck presses both your knees to your chest with his hands, mounting the bed and achieving a higher angle. you look up at him, anticipating his next move. all he does is give you a sweet kiss on the forehead and a playful smirk before he’s snapping his hips against yours again. the new position allows him to reach deeper than he previously did as he looms over you with a satisfied grin on his face, watching you writhe underneath him from the pleasure that overwhelms you.

“nobody’s gonna fuck you like i do.” he wraps his fingers around your throat and presses down at the right spots to restrict your airflow. your head falls back as it only emphasises how every touch lights your body on fire, every rough thrust rendering you speechless and all you can do is gasp and moan and whine for him. “yeah? am i fucking my pretty baby so good they can’t even speak?”

you try to say his name but all that comes out is a croak that barely resembles it. when he releases your throat, you almost whine out at the loss but you’re not given the chance. his hand snakes between your connected bodies to roll your clit under his thumb, eager to encourage your orgasm.

“you look so pretty when you’re all fucked out, baby,” he coos sweetly. the combination of his cock drilling into you mercilessly and fingers working to toy with your sensitive bud sends your head into a tailspin. a familiar knot forms in your lower belly once more and you can tell he’s chasing his own orgasm. all that fills your mind is how good his cock feels deep inside of you and how you want him to fill you up til you’re leaking. “so, so damn pretty. an absolute angel looking like this underneath me, i could fuck you all day and all night now that i have you. i’ll make sure everyone knows you’re mine and i’m yours, i’ll make sure any person who even thinks inappropriate things about you, i’ll fuck you right in front of them to make it clear that you’re not up for grabs.”

his words sink into your skin and you melt but your walls flutter around him which makes him laugh dryly.

“fuck, you’re so naughty. you clenched around me when i said i’d fuck you in front of others.” you whine, head tipping back as your orgasm creeps closer. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you? should’ve known you’re a nasty whore but that’s okay—i know you’re only a whore for my cock, angel.”

“‘m gonna cum, hyuckie!” you gasp, back arching as the knot tightens further.

“yeah? i’m close, too.” he pants hotly from above. “go on and cum around my cock, baby. make a mess for me, yeah? prove to me that i’m all yours.” the pet name is all that you need to come undone.

this orgasm hits you harder than the last, hot white spreading all over your body as your shoulders stiffen up. his thrusts are getting sloppier as he chases after his own high, cussing and whispering your name between grunts and groans.

“shit, i’m gonna cum–”

“inside!” you quickly capture his attention. his lips part but you continue before he can speak. “cum inside, i want to feel all of you, hyuckie.” with the gentle rasp in your voice and the pleading look on your face, he curses and a high-pitched moan is caught in the back of his throat as he spills his hot seed inside of you. his hips stammer and come to a still, groaning your name with his lids squeezed shut.

“fuck . . .” he gasps and wraps your legs around his waist so he can lean forward. your trembling hands reach up to cup his face, smiling fondly as you bring him in for a sweet, chaste kiss. “why’d it take us this long?”

“i wanna blame my emotional constipation,” you joke lightly and he laughs through his nose.

“it’s one of my favourite qualities about you.” donghyuck nuzzles his nose against yours, stealing yet another kiss from you. “do you know whose room we just fucked in?”

you blink blearily and look around as you tug him down so you can both cuddle for a bit. he follows your lead and slowly pulls out but quickly panics when his cum starts leaking out.

“oh fuck, i shouldn’t have ripped your undies for souvenir–” your realisation dawns upon you like a bucket of cold water when you finally recognise whose room this is. you start to smack his arm repeatedly while you hurriedly try to get onto your wobbly feet. “baby, what’s the rush?” he quickly catches you when you almost fall, failing to see what’s causing your state of alarm.

“we’re in ning’s room!”

“oh, shit.”

thank you for reading the first installation of the series BEFORE THE LAST FLOWER BLOOMS. if you enjoyed it, i would love to hear your thoughts in reblogs, comments, and / or chat about it in my ask box! check out my other works or the bonus piece while you wait for the next installation, I KINDA WANNA BE YOURS.

#lee donghyuck smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #hua writes #h.dream #h.donghyuck #h.smut #h.fluff #╭ ❝ series ❞ / before the last flower blooms

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