#nct127 au

[taelme]

treacherous

genre: regency!au (with some tweaks ofc), kind of secret romance, painter!johnny, marquess!johnny (mild angst, a lot of fluff im telling yall this was self-indulgent)  pairing/s: Johnny / Reader (ft Jaehyun and oc (reader’s sister)) word count: 26k+ (love language strikes again)  tw: brief mentions of a parent’s death, mentions of food, reader has a tense relationship with her mom? mentions of religious imagery  summary: in your search for love in a material world, you find the acquaintance of a poor painter and discover what it means to feel safe to trust, to be vulnerable, to love—and everything in between a/n: very self indulgent!! (this technically can be read as a standalone but reading enchanted before this can help with context!) was definitely zoning out during my lessons thinking about this johnny.... can yall tell im in love? may have died many times writing this ... definitely was difficult to edit because i was giggling throughout as though i wasn’t the one who wrote it. themed on treacherous but i’d love to hear if you found any other tswift song easter eggs inside!! happy reading  read on ao3

There were many rules any supposed self-respecting or ‘well-bred’ gentleman and lady had to abide by in the world you lived in—rules that ensured the protection of a culture, that shaped character, that cultivated virtue. You were very well-versed in such rules, having been fed every conduct manual your mother could get her hands on from the time you were able to read. 

You would internalise all that you’d read, taking the words seriously and living by the advice given, moulding yourself into a daughter who was perfect as and when you were judged by the book. Perhaps that was what your mother hoped, that her daughter would agree to being mothered by conduct books. 

Of course, that wasn’t quite the case. You read them, surely, but whether you lived by them was an entirely different matter. 

The first thing to note, a lady like you was expected to wait to be introduced to a gentleman, and never introduce herself.

“Would you stop fidgeting? How impossible is it for you to just sit still for a moment?” your mother clicked her tongue in distaste, her voice soft enough only for you to hear, but her tone no less cutting. 

You glanced at her blankly, shifting in your seat once again before turning your gaze back to the field before you, the crowd of people around you waiting for the races to start. Frankly, the appeal of a race for you lay in watching the horses, how gracefully and strongly they galloped, oblivious to the money being placed behind their speed. 

But you knew why you were here, it was hard for you to forget. 

“It’ll be nothing short of a miracle if anyone finds you desirable with your horrible manners to show for yourself,” she huffed, turning to your father who was sitting beside her for some sort of support, only growing more annoyed when she saw that he was otherwise unbothered by your fidgeting. 

“Spare her, she’s still new to all of this,” he murmured. 

“Her sister wasn’t like this when she first debuted,” your mother retorted, earning a sigh from your father.

Your sister, who was now away on her honeymoon with the viscount she married. As much as you were happy for her, you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the support she gave you, especially during times like these where it seemed you would be caught in the crossfire of your mother and father’s disagreements. 

“Are they not both ladies? You have to stop treating her like she’s still a child,” your mother murmured harshly, making you shift in your seat uncomfortably, “the sooner you do that, the easier this whole process will be for all of us.” 

Now, you couldn’t hide behind the fact that you were young. You were out in society, expected to be looking for a marriage partner, but you still found yourself feeling intimidated by the number of people here knowing that they weren’t looking at you as anyone other than a lady to be married off. 

Thankfully enough, you spotted a familiar face (or they spotted you), your gaze landing on a family friend, a bachelor named Taeyong under the tentage next to the spectator stand. 

“I’m… going to say hello to Taeyong.” 

Your mother hadn’t acknowledged you with anything but a huff, so you took that as a greenlight to leave, straightening your posture in an attempt to make it seem as though you weren’t completely intimidated by the crowd of men you were practically walking into. 

Nodding your head at Taeyong in greeting when he met your gaze, he flashed you a smile. 

“My lady,” he bowed with extra dramatics, earning a grimace from you, “it feels oddly refreshing to be seeing you in a place like this.” 

“How so?” your eyebrows lifted, gaze flickering briefly to notice the man standing next to him, taller than Taeyong and much taller than you, giving him a small nod in acknowledgement. 

You knew it was more socially acceptable for you to focus on conversing with Taeyong and not acknowledging the man, since it would have been an obvious fact that he and Taeyong were of different social standings. The man’s dressing was that of a typical man of the working class, compared to Taeyong’s more expensive fabrics, with special tailored tailcoats and frills in his shirt. In spite of this fact, you couldn’t help your gaze from wandering over to the man even as you spoke with Taeyong, something about the way he carried himself making him seem as though he was the one of power between the two of them. 

It was a confidence and sureness that you weren’t used to seeing, different from the air with which the viscount Jung Jaehyun carried himself. For the viscount, there was always an air of tension in his slightly aloof demeanour. The man standing next to Taeyong now didn’t seem tense, instead, he possessed a calm confidence. You weren’t sure why it intimidated you more. 

“I’m more accustomed to seeing you in your home,” Taeyong huffed, “I guess this means it’s your first season?” 

You nodded, glancing again at the man next to Taeyong, who wore a curious expression on his face, observing you as you spoke with Taeyong. 

“And my last, if I'm fortunate enough,” you joked, even if you didn’t mean it. 

You glanced briefly again at the man standing next to Taeyong, averting your gaze when you met his confident stare, Taeyong’s huff of laughter distracting you just briefly. 

“I’m sure the season will be forgiving to you, you’ve always had a rather sweet disposition,” he assured you, eyebrows lifting as he shifted his body just slightly to gesture to the man next to him. 

“Oh, right. May I introduce you to a friend of mine who just moved into the town? He’s a painter, a very talented one at that. Miss Y/N this is Mr Suh. Mr Suh, this is my family friend, Miss Y/N.” 

The man gave you a polite bow, “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said with a polite smile. 

Your head tilted in surprise, not having expected the lilting voice to have come from a man whose presence was anything but gentle. 

Taeyong glanced between you and Mr Suh, momentarily distracted when he was approached by a man who had greeted him loudly, immediately rattling off into a discussion on the horse race. 

Almost about to leave to find your way to the lemonade, you heard the lilting voice again. 

“Who are you betting on?” he asked nonchalantly, and with the way he looked ahead as he talked, it would have seemed as though he wasn’t talking to you from the outside. You wondered whether it was intentional. 

“Me?” you asked, turning to look up at the man’s face, seeing him tear his gaze away from the horses to look at you, a soft smile gracing his features as he did. 

He nodded. 

“Am I supposed to be betting on one?” you asked in spite of everything you knew and read from the conduct manuals. You didn’t need Mr Suh to tell you to know that you weren’t supposed to be betting on anything, regardless. 

Mr Suh’s eyebrows lifted, taking his lower lip between his teeth before letting it go, “Well,” he began, “I suppose you shouldn’t. But the stakes are what make it more entertaining, aren’t they?” 

You scrunch your nose up in disagreement, shaking your head. 

“I would beg to differ. Sometimes things are best enjoyed without too many expectations.” 

Mr Suh hummed, clasping his hands behind his back, the stance somehow making him seem even more confident, you could almost imagine him dressed in formal wear attending one of the balls your sister spoke of the previous season. A man like him would be hard to miss in a crowd. 

“What makes you say that?”

You shrugged, your gaze flickering over the way the sunlight was shining on him through the little holes in the tent above the both of you, casting a pretty glow on where it touched his hair, his skin, his hazel eyes that held the mischief of a cheshire cat to them. 

“I suppose when you leave less room for expectation, you also leave less room for disappointment,” you hummed, watching in borderline awe as he let out a huff of laughter. 

“Not that I don’t agree with you, because trust me, I do. But humour me, pick one and we’ll see who wins,” he offered smoothly, with the same confidence that made you feel as though he were drawing you in, as if his simple proposition was enough to spark your desire for some excitement in what you otherwise assumed was going to be a boring day. 

“And if you win? What happens then?” you asked, earning a thoughtful hum from Mr Suh, lips pursing in thought as if he hadn’t already thought of what he wanted. 

Mr Suh’s lips parted, as if having reached a moment of realisation, “You’ll grant me the honour of getting you a glass of lemonade.” 

“And if I win?” 

Mr Suh grinned, “Well, that’s up to you, isn’t it?” 

You hummed, “Alright then. I pick number two.” 

And you watched, as the race began, as Mr Suh watched with a serious gaze as the horse you chose had run neck in neck with his, the way number two had begun to pick up speed halfway and you knew you would prevail as the winner by a landslide. Funnily enough, Mr Suh didn’t feel the slightest bit bitter about losing, curious as to what you had in mind for your reward. 

It was amusing to you, to see the way the many people standing in the tent had either gushed out yells of excitement or frustration as the race ended, Mr Suh’s expression looking still as calm and confident as he turned to face you. 

“Have you decided what you wanted?” he asked, “I’ll still get you a glass of lemonade, since it’s a hot day after all.” 

You followed next to him as he walked towards where the staff were serving refreshments, paying for a single glass of lemonade and handing it to you, an expectant look on his face as he awaited your reply. 

“You said you were a painter, is that correct?” you began, earning a tilt of the head from him, wondering where you were going with this. 

“Yes, I am.” 

“Could I pay a visit to your studio one day? You know, to see some of your paintings?” 

If Mr Suh was surprised at your request (he was), he hadn’t shown it, simply looking at you with the same curiosity in his gaze, giving you a nod. 

“You’re more than welcome to come by. I’m located near the flower shop by the market, the old space that used to belong to the… the wine merchant,” he told you, and with how much you frequented the market, you instantly knew the space he was referring to, already mapping out a route in your head that would allow you to visit his studio after you ran your errands on Monday. 

Somehow, you couldn’t get used to the way he held your gaze, something about it making you feel as though you were frozen in your spot, unable to look elsewhere yet feeling as though you were too shy to return the same attention to him. 

“I’d better be going now, wouldn’t want to worry my mother,” you fumbled out an excuse in your flustered state, giving him a nod before you’d left promptly, sipping on your lemonade in an attempt to cool the warmth in your face and neck. 

===

Another thing worth noting, is that a lady like you is often placed in a very delicate situation. You may be distinguished by a kind of calculated attention to gain your affections, while it is impossible to know whether this attention will end in a serious declaration. 

You didn’t manage to visit him once the week started, busy with your own errands that occupied your first few days of the week. 

The next time you saw Mr Suh, it almost seemed like you were being guided towards each other. It was an odd moment on that Wednesday morning, something compelling you to look up from the yellow sunflowers you were talking to the old woman running the store about, turning your head to the right even though you weren’t quite looking for anything, your gaze coming to land on the man that you were almost hoping you would chance upon while in the area. 

Seeing the way his eyebrows lifted in recognition, you gave him a small nod to signal that you were acquainted with him, a smile gracing his features as he stood before you. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” he remarked, earning a strangely shy smile from you, surprising yourself at the way you reacted towards him. 

You hummed, “I’m here often, actually,” you admitted, your gaze flickering briefly to the sunflowers you were looking at before, your finger touching one of the soft petals absently. 

“Is that so? Do you like flowers?” 

You shrugged, “... the simple answer would be yes.” 

Mr Suh surprised you with the way he’d gasped lightly, eyes widening with a hint of exaggerated dramatics, his hands in his pockets as he leaned over slightly, “Well, now that you’ve said it like that, you’ve gotten me curious about what the complex answer would be.” 

You weren’t sure what came over you, or what was compelling you to go against your mother’s wishes of not entertaining men who weren’t those you danced with at balls. 

Perhaps it was the way he conversed with you so smoothly, or the confident way he held himself, or even the way it seemed as though there was something inexplicable drawing you in through his gaze, telling you there was more to him than he was letting on. As if it would only  continue to nag at your curiosity if you didn’t explore it. 

“It is an answer I would easily offer to you if we were in a more conducive space,” you huffed in amusement, gesturing around to the various other market stalls, the grocers and the merchants yelling and ringing their bells as they bartered off their products. 

Mr Suh felt it too, the strangest feeling in his gut that made him feel as though he were being prompted to get to know you more. As he looked at you now, in the silence of the flower shop with the old woman giving him a knowing look, he couldn’t deny that he was curious about your intentions, about what you could possibly be thinking by being so willing to acquaint yourself with a poor painter like him. It was oddly refreshing, and he could safely say you were the first lady to still treat him with such attention and respect after coming to know his social standing. 

“Would you like to claim your reward now, then? I was just about to head back to my studio, we could have some tea before you head back?” 

You frowned, knowing very well that as much as you would like that, you couldn’t very well do that now. 

At the sight of your frown, Mr Suh sucked in a sharp breath, “Poor timing?” 

Pressing your lips into a firm line, you nodded, “Unfortunately. I have to be at the church, I was supposed to get the new flower arrangements done for the altar and all…” 

Mr Suh’s eyebrows lifted, nodding in understanding, it seemed there was even more he was curious about you now. 

“Will you be playing the organ for the mass today too, dear?” the old woman asked, earning a hum from Mr Suh when you gave an affirmative nod. 

“You know how to play?” he asked, earning an insistent hum from the old woman. 

“ Very well , in fact,” she told him, and somehow you felt a strange sense of bashfulness under the praise of the old woman, though it wasn’t as if you were a stranger to hearing it from her. 

Somehow, the fact that you were in the presence of Mr Suh as you heard it reminded you of the feeling you got when you were younger and your parents were entertaining guests, insisting that you play a piece for them. The feeling of all their eyes on you that filled you with the want to run off into your room, the only time you’d relaxed slightly was when you would centre your focus on the piano, the music being the distraction from their gazes on you. 

The way Mr Suh looked at you, his curious gaze, somehow filled you with this sort of almost-panic, a panic that came with being so focused on, a sudden feeling of being exposed. 

You didn’t have to worry about this with your family, knowing they were all focused on their own worries to pay such delicate attention to your affairs. Mr Suh, however, his gaze was intense, though it did not seem to possess the same intention to nit-pick like your mother, or the insistence of your father’s, or distraction of your sister’s. His could only be described as unadulterated curiosity . 

“I’d love to hear it one day,” his lips curled into a small smile, “perhaps you could grant me the honour of hearing you play while I complete a commission at my studio.” 

You huffed. Somehow the prospect of being able to be involved in the creation of art in such a way enticed you, and it left you feeling excited for the day to come. 

“I would like that,” you told him, turning to the old woman and giving her a small nod to signal that you would like to take the flowers you ordered now. 

“Would you like to take the ones for home now?” she asked, earning a shake of the head from you. 

“No, thank you. I’ll come by later to collect those,” you told her with a smile, turning to Mr Suh and giving a small bow. 

“I should be heading off now.” 

Mr Suh huffed in amusement, “That sounds familiar,” there was a hint of mischief in his tone that made your lips part, a small scoff leaving you. 

“Are you teasing me?” you couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped you, earning a smile from him. 

“I mean no menace,” he continued, shaking his head, “I should be off as well…” 

He let out a small sigh, the soft smile lingering on his features, “It was nice to see you here.” 

You huffed, wanting to say more, but settling for a simple nod. 

“When would be a good time for me to come by?” you decided to ask, earning a shrug from him. 

“Whenever it suits you, I’m usually in the studio by the afternoon,” he spoke, earning a tilt of the head from you, prompting him to continue, “okay, how does Friday afternoon sound?” 

You nodded, “Perfect.” 

Bidding him goodbye, your breath hitched at the way his tone had lilted with the same calm confidence as he addressed you, your brain replayed the way he’d addressed you, wondering how his voice could make your name (something you figured you would have been so used to after all your years of living), sound as though it were being spoken to you for the first time. 

You turned and left before you could tempt yourself to stay longer and forget about the flowers in your arms waiting to be displayed, though even the sunflowers seemed to twirl around to face him. 

The giddiness fluttering within you remained as you sat by the stone bench preparing the flowers, the sound of the gentle flowing water of the fountain you were sitting beside somehow reminding you to still your heart, lest you get too carried away with the excitement you felt from your interactions with Mr Suh. 

As you fixed the placement of one of the sunflowers, you let your gaze wander to the elderly woman who was a few benches away from you shaded underneath a large tree, looking at the arrangement of flowers you’d placed at the foot of one of the statues.

Observing her expression as she gazed at the flowers, you wondered what she was thinking about, what she was here for, perhaps even what she was praying for. You knew you weren’t a stranger to it even as you observed her, you had been here many times; out of desperation, out of boredom, out of joy, out of hopelessness. 

You liked the freedom that came with being here, how you could essentially stay undisturbed due to the unspoken understanding that those who came here sought out that same solace and peace you did.

It was more of an escape at first, from the confines of your house and the myriad of books waiting to be read and re-read again. You weren’t sure when it started becoming a place you wished to return to willingly, like an escape you sought out because it became less of an escape and more of a shelter. 

There was vulnerability and protection you found in being alone, in the thought that even if no one was being attentive to you, maybe a higher power was. This thought always pulled you into deeper reflection, it made you struggle with how comfortable and uncomfortable you were in this vulnerability. How perhaps you were comfortable with it because it wasn’t exactly tangible, yet how uncomfortable you felt with it because you knew that this desire for vulnerability, to be seen, known and loved in such a way was something that resonated deep within your soul, and perhaps it was never tangible to begin with. 

Done with the main arrangement meant to be the centrepiece at the altar, you got up, dusting off your dress. Picking up the basket, you made your way down the aisle of the church till you were at the altar, placing the basket delicately onto the marbled floor before something compelled you to take a seat there on the floor of the aisle, looking up at nothing in particular. 

“Do you recognise the painting?” 

You turned your head in the direction of the sound, seeing the priest walking over to you from your left, earning a hum of confusion from you. 

Gesturing above you to the direction you were staring in previously, he gave you a small smile, “You were staring at it, were you not?” 

Turning your head to fix your gaze on the painting, you saw that it was a painting of a raging sea, a boat in the background with many people on it, but a man, and another who you assumed was the Lord on the water, the man looking desperate as he clung on to his saviour. Yet somehow, the way his saviour held him, you could sense the safety, the security present in his hold. 

“Do you recall? That man, Peter, walked out onto the water when the Lord called him.” 

You frowned, nothing about it made any logical sense, to put yourself in such a position of vulnerability, subject to drowning, subject to the harsh currents of the waves willingly . 

“Why did he do that?” was all you could ask, reminded again of this vulnerability, and whether as you looked at this painting, you could see how there was protection in this vulnerability like you had felt before. 

The priest could only huff in amusement, a deep sigh leaving him. 

“Would you like the simple answer?” he asked, earning a sheepish smile from you. 

“Would it be wrong of me to say yes?” 

Shaking his head, the priest turned his gaze back to the painting, “Love.” 

He did it for love?  

Perhaps the answer you wanted really wasn’t for something tangible to begin with, you figured, because you felt his words resonate in your heart. 

How willing were you to be vulnerable? And what were you willing to be vulnerable for? 

“That sounds more like the complex answer,” you huffed, your hands fiddling with the fabric of your dress, picking off leaves that had stuck onto your dress while you made the flower arrangements.

Your words had only earned a laugh from the priest, the elderly man giving you a shrug. 

“I suppose simple doesn’t mean simplistic.” 

Sighing, you nodded, knowing you would be left pondering his words for the next God knows how long . And it was true, even as you played the organ for the mass that day, as you left the church grounds to make your way back to the flower market.

Even as you were greeted by a bouquet of hibiscus flowers the old woman said Mr Suh had left for you, the thought continued to stir your heart. His simple bouquet, which sparked a far-from-simplistic longing in your heart. 

Were you willing to be vulnerable for something like love? 

Perhaps only time would tell. 

=== 

The third rule, a lady like you was not to engage in any activity that could give rise to gossip. A young, unmarried lady like you was never to be alone in the company of a gentleman outside of family and close family friends. Other than during a walk to church or to a park in the morning, a lady like you was not to even so much as walk outside without an appropriate companion.  

“Where are you off to so early, Miss?” Your lady’s maid had asked in a hushed whisper, passing you the little biscuits you asked for her to help you retrieve from the kitchen without your mother noticing. 

“To church,” you smiled, earning a surprised hum from her. 

“I suppose this is the message you would like for me to relay if anyone were to ask for your whereabouts?” her tone was knowing, a hint of a smile playing at her lips as she handed you the makeshift bag she made using the cloth used to wrap your biscuits. 

You smiled, nodding at her as you let out an exaggerated wistful sigh, “I cannot express how thankful I am to have you here. You’re an absolute breath of fresh air in this house.” 

She huffed in amusement, shaking her head at you, glancing around the kitchen before lowering her voice to a mere murmur, “Will you be back late?” 

You shook your head.

“I’ll be back in time for tea, I’m going to visit a painter.” 

She gasped, a deadpan tone to her joking as she brought a hand up to cover her mouth, “Need I get the chemicals ready to soak your dress when you return?” 

You rolled your eyes in good-nature, a giggle leaving you in your embarrassment. 

“I won’t make a mess of myself this time, I promise,” touching her arm, you told her with as serious a look as you could muster, earning a deep sigh from her. 

You supposed it was warranted, she’d known you since you were a baby, it was only right that she’d grown accustomed to your rather clumsy nature. 

“I’d rather you not make promises you can’t keep, Miss.” 

“I’ll be good, I promise ,” you grinned, fighting your laughter as you saw her expression dripping with scepticism. 

“I do miss your sister dearly, she was never one to keep me on my toes like you do. I’m always fighting for breath these days when I talk to the madam,” she let out a wistful sigh.  

You huffed, already beginning to walk out of the kitchen, “Don’t miss me too much when I’m gone,” you waved, practically brisk walking out of your house and beginning on the route you had planned in your head since the day of the races. 

Saying you were going to church wasn’t a complete lie. And it was important to note this, because you weren’t a very good liar to begin with, so details like these helped. 

Walking into the church grounds, you’d initially planned on just walking through it as a shortcut to the market, but you couldn’t deny the little anxiousness within your heart that came with your excitement. Frankly, you weren’t sure what you were expecting from your meeting with Mr Suh later, though you knew there was a need to maintain a level of secrecy about it.

Perhaps it was the guilt from this secrecy that compelled you to make a little detour, sitting on the same bench you saw the elderly woman sitting at the other day. 

Only when you were sitting in the same position as she was, you realised how different it felt to be sitting right in front of the little grotto. It felt much more like you were up-front instead of still having the pseudo-security of being a little further from the little altar. 

Somehow, you found yourself listing out in your head the various things you’d planned on doing today, imagining (and perhaps hoping as well) that while you went about these things, this higher power would be watching over you, protecting you as you went about your day. The thought served to comfort you, and you found yourself feeling a little less nervous about seeing Mr Suh. 

You wouldn’t have known that Mr Suh was equally if not more nervous than you were, finding himself agonising over which flowers he wished to gift you when you were to arrive. 

The way the old woman mending the store was looking at him wasn’t helping much either, with her knowing looks and watchful gaze as she observed the flowers he leaned towards. 

“Are you planning on getting them for Miss Y/N?” the woman finally asked after she seemed to have enough of his indecision.

Mr Suh nodded, “I was wondering if you could advise me on the meanings of the flowers?” he asked, earning a smile from the woman. 

“My dear, there are far too many flowers here for me to advise you on all of them now. Perhaps you could tell me what you wish to convey, and I could help you pick the right flowers accordingly?” 

Mr Suh hummed thoughtfully. He didn’t want something too forward, or something that would make you wonder what the special occasion was. At this point, all that was coming to mind was the image of your smile that he wished to have the honour of witnessing again. She does have a lovely smile. 

“Yellow tulips, then!” the woman offered gleefully, making Mr Suh’s eyes widen. He was glad Jaehyun wasn’t here, he didn’t think he would be able to recover from his slip-up so easily if that was the case. 

And so yellow tulips were what you were greeted with when you’d arrived at the studio, barely shutting the door behind you before you were greeted by the bright yellow that you found eliciting a smile from you without even noticing. 

“Are these for me?” you asked, the nod he gave you making you stretch your fingers in your gloves before you accepted the flowers from him, noticing the lack of gloves on his hands. 

“They couldn’t possibly be for me, I don’t think my smile is worthy of being compared to sunshine.” 

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise, feeling warmth travel to your face and neck as you averted your gaze. 

“I’m… flattered to know you think mine is.” 

That seemed to elicit a smile from him, rivalling his words from before with the way he was beaming at you, a little giggle leaving him.

“You can set them aside here in the meantime, I was just in the middle of working on a small piece,” he told you, taking the flowers from you to set them in a makeshift vase. A little cup with dried paint on its mouth and exterior filled with clear water. 

“What of?” you glanced at the canvas on the easel in front of a tall stool, not being able to distinguish the markings on the canvas, seeming to be in its early stages of creation. 

Waiting for his reply, you took the opportunity to look around the studio. It was cleaner than you expected it to be, with how it was left unoccupied by the previous landlord for as long as you could remember. 

You noticed the carpets over various parts of the floor, the patterns resembling the ones you had at home. There were various tables around the room, used more for temporary storage than for display, housing various sketches on loose pieces of paper and card. Even so, the sketches were of various landscapes and nature. 

There were no statues here, contrary to what you expected, mainly bowls of fruits and flowers that you assumed were for still-life paintings or sketches. It wasn’t furnished anything like you imagined a typical painter’s studio to look like. You’d expected more statues of human figures, more artwork of people or portraits. The most life you detected in the room other than him and the bowls of fruits and flowers was the piano sitting at the side of the room. 

He stood in front of a tall easel that rested on a large cloth over the carpet to catch any mess that could ruin the rug. Next to the easel, there was a small table with his palette, and a little glass jar he used for water, a set of what you identified as watercolours next to the jar. 

“Your expression is making me curious. Penny for your thoughts?” 

You hummed, shaking your head when you decided against voicing out your thoughts. You wouldn’t want to risk offending him. 

Mr Suh seemed undeterred, simply tilting his head at you curiously, “What seems to be stopping you from telling me?” 

Daring yourself to glance at him in surprise at his forwardness, you shook your head, “No, no, I just… I don't want to speak out of turn.” 

Expecting him to simply nod and move on to another topic, you were even more surprised when he huffed in amusement, dismissing your worries with his gentle gaze. 

“I can assure you, I won’t expect you to bear the consequences for my feelings.”

Walking over to the tall easel where he stood, you pressed your lips together and mustered whatever courage you had to be honest with your thoughts. Something about his reassurance told you it was safe to allow yourself that much in this space. 

“I was just thinking that… your studio doesn’t look like what I expected it to look like,” you began, earning a nod from him, prompting you to continue, “I expected… more… you know, life .” 

Mr Suh’s expression remained calm and confident as always, as if he’d expected you to have pointed it out at one point. 

“I understand why you may think that,” he huffed with a smile. 

“Was it intentional?” you asked, “the focus on landscapes?” 

He nodded, his gaze fixed on yours, the attentiveness he offered to you once again feeling foreign, yet somehow reassuring. 

“I don’t do portraits. And I know it sounds foolish, considering they make more money than paintings of nature and whatnot. But it’s somewhat of a… personal philosophy , I suppose.”

Sensing your confusion, he huffed in amusement, continuing, “I find there is much more life to be found in nature that we overlook. When we’re not so concerned with… you know,” you met his gaze again, the same captivating feeling rendering your attention only fixed on him, “material things.” 

You nodded, his words striking a chord with you, remembering the many conversations you had with your sister on your worries about your debut, about whether you would be accomplished enough, presentable enough, respectable enough. When the desire, that intangible desire that resonated within you remained; the want to be seen, known and loved for your soul, unaffected by money or status. 

“It’s hard to be unconcerned with that in this society,” you huffed, earning a nod from him. 

“I suppose a lady like you has no choice but to be concerned about it,” he murmured, earning a sigh from you. 

“I wish I didn’t have to be.” 

Mr Suh gave you a soft smile, “At least… you don’t have to be while you’re here.” 

You hadn’t noticed you were smiling, something about his words making a wave of relief wash over you. Like a breath of fresh air, to hear that he wasn’t expecting you to be your mother’s daughter while you were here. The little invitation behind his words was enough to make you want to laugh. You were almost wondering why you’d felt so nervous to come here just a while ago. 

Making your way to the piano, you took a seat in front of it, still failing to stifle your smile, turning to him with a nod. 

“I… I’m afraid I like that offer a little too much.” 

And so that was what the studio became for you, a place where you were free to be alone yet share in the company of another, to allow for the creation of art within the space that you came to realise held more life than you initially thought. 

There was life found in the sound of the music that filled the walls, life found in the way Mr Suh’s brush would dance over the canvas, bringing colours alive with his fluid movements, life found in the little sparks of excitement and understanding when you would glance over at each other ever so often. 

“I like that piece the most,” Mr Suh told you as you were preparing to leave, holding out the last honey biscuit to him for him to take. Pinching it between his fingers, he popped it into his mouth. 

“You do?” 

He nodded, swallowing the last of the biscuit in his mouth as he smiled, “It happens to be my favourite.” 

Something about that knowledge made you see the piece in a different light, not having expected him to choose that of all the ones you played that day. 

Something about it was almost ironic, the meaning of the piece being to cast away earthly pleasures for a greater, spiritual love. It made you think about whether the intangible desire in your heart resonated in his as well. 

Unfortunately, that little moment was cut short when Mr Suh had taken out a small pouch that jingled in an all-too-familiar way, reminding you of your father’s study. 

“What’s this?” he set the pouch in your free hands, taking the empty cloth used to hold your honey biscuits and folding it neatly for you. 

Mr Suh hummed, “Take it as… pin money. I wouldn’t have been able to complete those paintings without the beautiful music you played.” 

Before you could refuse, he shook his head, “I insist, really. If you won’t accept it for the music, accept it for the biscuits.” 

Narrowing your eyes at him, you huffed, taking the now neatly folded cloth back from him. 

“You’re not going to take it back regardless, aren’t you?” 

The grin he sent your way was enough to make your knees feel weak. 

“You’re a quick learner, Miss Y/N,” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers.  

Again, the feeling akin to a gentle brushstroke on canvas, unassuming, yet permanent with the way the colour stood out against the white. 

“Will I be seeing you again soon?” he dared to ask, and you found yourself almost breathless as you searched for an appropriate reply. 

“Do you wish to?” 

Mr Suh wasn’t sure what came over him either. It was akin to an inner knowing, a gut feeling, an unmistakable intuitive feeling that told him not to fight the fact that he was drawn to you, the fact that he wanted to know you more. So, he decided not to fight it, as risky as the decision felt to him. 

“I do, if you are consenting.”  

You huffed, amusement in the way the smile played at your lips, nodding at him. “Then you will see me again tomorrow.” 

It became an unspoken agreement of sorts, for you to visit him in the mornings until it was time for you to return home for tea, blaming your happiness or giddiness on a particularly blessed time of prayer, or the time you took to get back home on the time you would ‘stay back’ in the church grounds on your own. 

Though your father didn’t mind, always having excused you whenever it came to matters of religion, your mother didn’t like it. She wouldn’t hesitate to express how she felt it wasn’t necessary for you to be devoting so much of your time to going to church when you had better things to do, like brushing up on your piano playing, refining your needlework skills or reading and internalising more conduct books. 

They wouldn’t know that the real reason behind your departure from home lay behind the (now many) flowers pressed between the pages of your many conduct books. Each one attached to a special memory of Mr Suh’s bouquets he gifted to you during your visits, the arrangements handpicked by him and unlike any you’d seen or made before. 

Though it was no secret that Mr Suh enjoyed your company and conversation, there was always a little nagging in his head that would return every now and then. It was as if its purpose was to remind him of who you were in society. It would return whenever he heard gossip in the market the morning after a ball, or chatter from bachelors in a local bar. It served as a  reminder that no matter how close the both of you were getting, you were still a lady, who could be subject to such gossip and chatter if you weren’t careful. 

“You’re risking your virtue each time you come out here to see me, you are aware of that right?" He spoke, while you were engrossed in sifting through his various sketches, finding ones to display on the walls of his studio. 

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, holding up a sketch of a tall, sturdy-looking tree planted by the water.

"And what is virtue to you, the man who keeps inviting me here?" you hummed.

Mr Suh narrowed his eyes at you, albeit amused at your witty reply. 

"I meant without a chaperone."

You sighed, almost instinctively assuming the disposition you would when you were being nagged by your mother. 

“I think it’s a little belated for you to be telling me this,” you muttered, still distracted by his sketches, your hands reaching up over your head to see what it would look like higher up on the wall. 

“Miss Y/N,” his tone was firmer than usual, insistent for you to pay attention. 

“Hmm? How do you think this would look up here?” you thought out loud, not having noticed him getting up from his stool to walk over to you, his hand reaching out to pin the paper you were holding against the wall with apparent ease, making you come down from your tip-toes. 

Turning around, you were shocked at how close he was, your eyes widening and taking a step back. 

“Are you listening?” 

In your surprise, you sputtered out whatever made sense to you in your head. 

“Right, yes. Chaperoning.” 

This had only managed to earn a quirked eyebrow from Mr Suh, “Yes… chaperoning …” 

“You understand the need for it, don’t you?” he continued, insistence in his tone. 

You huffed, “Don’t you think we’re past that by now? My parents are too caught up with whatever their latest worry is. If anything, they're relieved I'm finding something to occupy myself with. I’d only be a nuisance if I remained at home.” 

Mr Suh relaxed his arm, grasping the sketch in his hand as he lowered his arm to his side. 

“You’re avoiding the point. How can you be so sure that you trust me?” His eyebrows furrowed, seeming as if he were in disbelief that it was possible. You didn’t understand that. 

You shook your head. 

“I’m not,” you met his gaze, his eyes that shone a beautiful hazel in the sunlit space of his studio, “that is up to you to show me who you are, and up to me to be discerning about it.” 

His gaze softened, making you feel prompted to continue. 

“I am very aware of my stand in society, if that is what you are asking. But didn’t we agree? That this would be a place where that doesn’t matter?”

Mr Suh’s expression was pensive, his lips pressed into a firm line as he searched your gaze for something unknown to him, “Forgive me, I am simply concerned for you. It would do you no good to be seen with a man like me.” 

You sighed, ducking down to take the sketch from his hand and glancing at it, the sketch of the tree planted beside the water. 

You let out a huff of amusement, “Be kinder to yourself, Mr Suh. I’m not being forced to be here. Your company has been more enjoyable than any man I have come across.”

Sensing he was taken aback by your words, you decided to change the subject. 

“You have many sketches of places I have never seen before. Were they all places you’ve visited?” you asked, using a simple glue to attach just the top of the sketch to the wall, not wanting to ruin it if you decided you wanted to take it down. 

Mr Suh cleared his throat, “Yes, they were all from my travels, or some of the places I remember visiting.” 

Humming, you picked up the other sketch you planned on displaying as well, amusing Mr Suh  (and perhaps making his heart flutter) with how seriously you regarded his sketches, even if most of them were done on a whim. 

“They seem like lovely places. What made you come here, then? I wouldn’t say this area is as lovely as what I've been seeing in your sketches.” 

Huffing, Mr Suh’s tongue peeked out to wet his lips, a relaxed nature in the way he watched you go about your movements, “My father passed. This was uh… his birthplace.” 

At that, you turned to face him, tilting your head at him as your gaze softened.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” 

Letting out a huff of laughter that bordered on bitterness, he shook his head in dismissal, “There’s no need to be sorry. We were not that close.” 

Frowning, you let out a small sound of disagreement. 

“It’s not a crime, you know? There’s no rule that says you aren’t allowed to grieve simply because you weren’t close to him.” 

Mr Suh felt a little wave of comfort reach him at your words, comfort that he didn’t realise he needed until the words left your lips and graced his ears. It left him feeling strangely grateful. Not just for your words, but for your heart which allowed you to feel so sensitively for others. 

“Thank you,” was all he could muster, earning a soft smile from you. 

“What was your relationship like? You know, to your father?” you dared yourself to ask, sensing that it would do him some good to talk about it. 

“He was strict with me when I was growing up… actually, he was a rather quiet man, a contrast to my personality. I always found I was more similar to my mother, more… expressive,” there was a gentle smile on his features at the mention of his mother, something about it making you want to hear more. 

“I was more comfortable talking to my mother, and naturally she was more involved in my activities and whatnot while I was growing up… it’s a bit strange now that I think of it. Even while she called me her own little nicknames and terms of endearment, it felt more comfortable for me to hear that as opposed to my own name, only my father called me that. But even though that was the case, it still felt awkward hearing it from him.” 

You nodded, your attentiveness prompting him to continue. 

“I don’t regret it, though. It wasn’t as though we had a bad relationship, it just felt… a bit more formal, less playful than the one I had with my mother.” 

“That’s what matters, I suppose, that you have no regrets,” you shrugged. 

Mr Suh nodded, “That’s what I thought, as well. My duty now is just to… carry on, I suppose.” 

You nodded. 

“Awfully wise of you,” you quipped, earning a smile from him. 

“Of course, I thought you would’ve known that about me by now,” he teased, earning an eye roll from you, though there was no menace behind the gesture. 

You huffed, “I can only imagine what you were like as a child,” you murmured, your imagination getting the better of you. 

The look on his face made it seem as though he were recalling his childhood, huffing a small laugh as he shook his head, “I don’t think I’ve changed much, to be honest.” 

The honesty of your next words surprised you.

“You must’ve been the loveliest little boy, then. I’m sure of it.” 

The smile you received in return was new, tinted with bashfulness unlike the usual calm and confident exterior you were used to seeing. He averted his gaze, poorly stifling his smile before looking back at you and shaking his head. 

“You’ve got a dangerous way with words, Miss Y/N,” he sighed, though his smile lingered on his features. 

“Of course, I thought you would’ve known that about me by now,” you recalled his words, using them to tease him in the same lilting way that he did, though he was sure the effect you had on him was much worse, his laughter bubbling out of him without restraint, his hand reaching out to grab the table next to him in a poor attempt to steady himself. 

You were growing to like it, this honesty that was growing in how the both of you were showing up to each other. Honesty that wasn’t hidden behind etiquette rules or social ‘do’s and ‘don’t’s. What you and him were experiencing with each other felt authentic, unfiltered. 

Sure it may have been frowned upon, it may have been deemed risky or dangerous, but in moments like these where all you could focus on was his smile and the way it warmed your heart. Conduct books be damned, looking at him now, you couldn’t find it in you to care. 

=== 

Another important thing for a lady like you to note, is that whatever your views are in marrying, you should take every possible precaution to prevent their being disappointed.

“How was yesterday’s ball?” 

You grimaced, your playing slowing down, the melody taking a more melancholic turn,  “I’d rather not talk about that.” 

“Was it that terrible?” he laughed, busy with sorting aside his tools and paints. Today was more of an ‘inventory day’, it seemed. 

You groaned, stopping your playing altogether, “Perhaps it would’ve been more bearable if you were there. Then at least I wouldn’t have to torture myself listening to countless men tell me how much they preferred a demure, quiet young lady with better birthing hips than I had.” 

Mr Suh didn’t bother trying to hide his amusement, letting his laughter bubble out freely as you tried to make your glare firm, though the more he laughed, the more it helped you find some sort of amusement in the memory. 

“I think your hips are fine,” he spoke, though the moment the words left him you could see him press his lips together firmly, a laugh threatening to spill out.

Scoffing, you couldn’t help but laugh as well, “My sister would perish if she heard you say that.” 

“Perish because I’m right? Though, I’m not so sure I could say the same about you being demure or quiet, unfortunately,” he told you knowingly, making you scoff. 

“I’d like to argue with you, but even I can’t argue with that,” you sighed, turning your body on the cushioned seat and closing the lid of the piano so you could lean against it. 

“Has there really been nobody trying to… court you?” he asked, more out of curiosity than out of an actual want for you to say that there has been. God knows he didn���t want that. 

You sighed, bringing one arm up to rest against the top of the piano, using your gloved hand to support your head as you looked at him busying himself with sorting out what he could keep and what needed to be disposed of. 

“It’s… difficult to explain. I know eligibility is one thing, background, status, wealth, the lot ,” you huffed, gesturing with your free hand as you spoke, something you were sure your mother would’ve chided you for if she was here, “but it's awfully difficult to grow attached to any of these men… they seem to have an image of me in their minds that they aren’t willing to compromise.” 

Mr Suh looked up from his paint, sensing your frustration that you were struggling to keep hidden, deciding to sit on the stool and show that he was listening, his hands finding their way to his pockets once again. 

“It’s as though I’m not allowed to be anyone else other than the perfect wife they’ve conjured up in their heads… how can you expect me to want that? To… to want to feel lonely in a conversation? To want to just constantly feel underestimated and misinterpreted . When I think of marriage, of a life with someone…” you glanced at him, averting your gaze to the floor, “I think of offering them my heart, but I don’t think of doing that to be met with money and a loveless house in return.”

You turned your head, adjusting it so you could support your head more comfortably, holding Mr Suh’s gaze as he looked at you, an understanding shared in his silence that you never appreciated more. 

You knew that within this unspoken understanding, you had to acknowledge that things were different here from how they were at the ball. Now, as you were in this space, under his gaze, you weren’t underestimated, you weren’t being ‘sheltered’ from anything deemed too much for you. Mr Suh let you be yourself here, receiving you graciously as you were, and you were starting to truly appreciate that. 

“The marriage market is truly lonelier than it seems,” he sighed. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“Nothing, just… from what you tell me. Am I mistaken?” 

You huff, shaking your head, “Definitely not. I’d be better off having more stimulating conversations with a priest than any of the men I spoke to last night.” 

Mr Suh couldn’t help the laughter that escaped him at the image you put in his head, “A priest? Not even me?” 

You rolled your eyes, “That goes without saying, it’s obvious I much prefer talking to you.” 

Mr Suh couldn’t help the way his heart felt like it slowed at your words, the way it felt like he was finally taking a deep breath after a while of not breathing. It was refreshing, seeing someone so honest and unashamed of their feelings and thoughts like you were. He found he had come to like that about you. Very much. 

“Speaking of priests, do you really go to church in the mornings? Or is that just limited to an excuse you use to sneak off here,” he gave you a teasing smile, making you huff, shaking your head at him. 

“I do, sometimes.” 

“For the flower arrangements?” he asked, recalling the time you had met at the flower market. 

Shaking your head, “Not just for that. But that wasn’t how it started.” 

Mr Suh hummed, his eyebrows lifting as he prompted you to continue. 

“It’s… well, it sounds a little funny but I used to wander around the neighbourhood as an excuse to leave the house… My parents never really noticed because they were busy with my sister’s debut and family business affairs at the time, but my father would always excuse me if I said it was to visit the church,” you huffed, “I liked it, actually. There was something so… peaceful, about the church grounds.” 

“I suppose it didn’t feel like I was just wandering around whenever I went there, because I could see all sorts of things and people… people in their desperation, their hope, in their vulnerability… somewhat like I was when I was watching them,” you averted your gaze to the vase of white lilies that sat on top of the little round table he had near him, reminding you of your sister, “there was a period around last year, if I recall correctly. My sister was going through a difficult time, and I was worried sick about her… my role in the family was always to just occupy myself with my own whims and fancies, to be kept out of the loop because they were afraid I couldn’t handle the truth of things. But I knew what was happening.” 

Mr Suh nodded, “Did something happen to her?” 

You nodded, “The family was at risk of being in debt because of a man my mother was trying to marry her off to while she was in love with someone else, who we weren’t sure was ever going to return to town. Honestly, the situation didn’t seem very hopeful at the time, and I had to just keep pretending I didn’t know what was happening when I was in front of my parents.” 

“It was scary, to see how she almost married into a lie.” 

Glancing at Mr Suh, you were surprised to find his gaze still on you, attentive, patient, reassuring. You shifted in your seat, your hands in your lap as you fiddled with your fingers and your gloves. 

“It grew difficult, obviously, to be always finding ways to feel useful and overcompensating at home because I felt so helpless, so I would go off to the church as a sort of escape, you know? A place where I didn’t have to be ‘doing’, a place where I could just… feel what I was feeling.” 

Humming, Mr Suh nodded, “It was safe there,” he commented, earning a nod from you. 

“I suppose my loitering grew obvious,” you huffed in amusement, “because one day the priest just came up to me and asked me if I was alright, you know, if there was anything I needed.” 

“So, I told him how I was feeling—again, I’m not very sure what compelled me to do that, but it felt natural, I suppose, since I felt safe there—and I asked him what a person in my position could do. And he told me something really interesting… he said faith is nothing without trust, and … at the heart of trust is to be vulnerable. That was all I could do, to let myself be vulnerable and trust that what I was doing for my sister was enough, even if I didn’t feel like it was.” 

Mr Suh nodded, your words seeming to resonate with him again, the similar desires within your hearts to be vulnerable and be protected and loved in this vulnerability that came with baring your heart and soul to another. 

“I suppose that was how it started, because it made me realise that I wanted that. I was busy telling myself that I couldn’t because I would feel helpless, but I wanted to allow myself to be who I was, to feel all that I felt and be seen in all of that, and to know what it is like to be loved for that, to be supported in that. But… I suppose that is the dilemma I have found myself in,” you laughed, “searching for all of that in a place as ruthless as the marriage market when I couldn’t even seem to find it from my own parents.” 

The questions continued to circle in your head as you looked at Mr Suh, wondering what he was thinking after hearing your tiring monologue. Your mother always told you you had far too many words, no man would be bothered to listen to you. But for some reason, you hoped that if anyone were to, Mr Suh would. 

“Miss Y/N,” he began, the gentleness to his tone paralysing you again, as if grasping you by the shoulders and forcing you to look at him, “I cannot promise you much… but you make me want to promise you all that I have. Even if it is this modest space, I want to promise you that it is safe for you.”

Somehow, that was enough for you.   

A warmth had flooded you, sending warmth to your eyes, a lump forming in your throat that made you feel as though you were dipping your fingers into the depths of this vulnerability you were entering with him. 

You gave him a soft smile, your unspoken expression that it was enough.  

Somehow, that was enough for him. 

Straightening up in your seat, you let out a deep sigh, “But you are right, I can think of far much more excitement to be found elsewhere than debutante balls.” 

Mr Suh quirked an eyebrow at you, not minding the fact that you changed the subject so abruptly judging from the amusement in his smirk, “Is that so? Enlighten me.” 

“Perhaps I shall write a scandal sheet!” you exclaimed, even if you didn’t mean it. 

Always quick to bounce off of your words, Mr Suh scoffed, “You don’t need an excuse to write about me.” 

Not being able to help the laugh that bubbled out of you, you gasped, “How did you know? I already had an article prepared: ‘ Local painter is too flirtatious for his own good’ .” 

Mr Suh laughed, getting up from his stool to make his way over to the little table sat against the wall, your curiosity getting the better of you as you made your way over to where he was, peering over curiously at the various bottles of things he had on the table. 

“What are these for?” 

Pointing at the little bottles he had, labelled in a scrawl you weren’t focused enough to decipher, he spoke, “These are bottles of pigments. I don’t have an assistant or an apprentice or anything like that, so I usually like to make my oil paints myself since I only need them in smaller quantities at a time. It’s quite therapeutic actually.” 

“Is it difficult to make?” 

Sensing your curiosity, Mr Suh smiled, a certain playfulness to his gaze, “Nothing you can’t handle. Do you want to try?” 

Excited by the offer, you nodded, seeing him start to bring out the various things you would need, lifting a granite slab you were sure you would’ve had difficulty lifting onto a long table behind you, followed by another block of granite that was long and flat at the bottom, looking somewhat like a cone but without the sharp edge of it. 

Taking out two small bottles the size of his palm, he made his way over to you, “This is what gives it the colour,” he pointed at one of the bottles, opening it to reveal an earthy brown colour. 

“There’s others, but I wanted to make this one, so I suppose you could help me with that instead.” 

You nodded, eager for him to get on with explaining the process to you, bubbling with excitement from how long it’d been since you got to do anything involving paint. 

“I’ll help you add the oil, and then you can start to use the muller to work it into the pigment.” 

“I’m sorry, the what?” you furrowed your eyebrows, earning giggles from Mr Suh. 

“Perhaps I should just show you, I think that would be better. But before I do that,” he stopped himself, turning to his easel and picking up the apron that hung from its side, your eyes widening as he held it by the neck, “May I?” 

You nodded, wordless as he draped the apron over you while facing you, his gaze intent and maybe even slightly amused at your expression as he let his hands find the strings at the sides, your breath hitching as he reached them around your waist to tie them in a loose knot behind your back, his proximity sending shivers down your spine. Trying to calm your nerves, you took off your gloves, setting them onto the table. 

“There, you may proceed,” his tone was teasing as ever, letting you continue as you folded the oil into the paint using the little paint knife like how he had shown you before. His hands had moved with practised and controlled strength, unlike yours, who simply enjoyed the sensation and malleability of the paint. 

“You can use the muller now,” he pointed at the block of granite that sat on top of the slab, sitting on the stool near you and watching you as you worked. 

Under his gaze, it didn’t feel as though he were watching because he didn’t trust you with the pigment, but quite the opposite, as he watched you with a relaxed demeanour, a hint of a smile playing at his features. 

You weren’t sure how long you were working the muller into the paint, but you were definitely developing a newfound respect for whoever did this as a job. Though you did see why it was therapeutic, you felt weak as you heaved the muller around, wanting to laugh as you imagined how you must look. 

“What an honour it is, to have the diamond of the first water making oil paint for me,” Mr Suh lilted, making you huff, using your forearm to dab at the sweat that formed on your temple, continuing with the rhythmic movements you were growing used to. 

“You’re awfully mistaken, I’m not the diamond.” 

Expecting him to tell you he was joking, you should’ve known Mr Suh had an equally, if not more dangerous way with his words than you did. 

“Is that so? The queen’s judgement is clearly not to be trusted, then… I know that much as I’m looking at you now.” 

Your breath hitched, recovering quickly as you continued your movements, lifting the block to scrape the paint off the edges and collect it on the slab so you could continue to work it in. 

“Are you teasing me?” you scoffed, laughing in spite of yourself. 

Mr Suh, however, remained sincere, the slightest of smiles on his face, “Not in the slightest bit.” 

You weren’t sure how to react, his words flustering you to no end, but you spoke your mind nonetheless. 

“You’re funny, saying that to me while I’m performing an act like this. I can’t imagine how un-ladylike this must look,” you huffed, amused in a way that made Mr Suh smile without knowing. 

“Not quite, something about the way you do it is very… graceful,” he hummed, “perhaps you would have to be in my position to understand what I mean.” 

Turning to face him, your eyebrows lifted in scepticism, “Let us swap places, then. Though, I doubt it would be the same. You’re much more experienced than I am.” 

Always agreeable to your little suggestions, Mr Suh stood up, making his way over to you as you padded over to the stool he sat on before, watching him pick up where you left off. 

Your only thought was that he was right. He was right, he was absolutely right. 

Watching him as he mulled the paint, you found yourself captivated once again, if he thought you were graceful, you wished you could show him what he looked like. There was a certain seriousness he tapped into the moment he stepped up to the table, the gravity with which he regarded his craft, the sincerity he put into it. It attracted you, quite simply. 

Your gaze wandered over to his arms, his hands, the strength they held, making the block of granite look much smaller than when you held it, you figured. It was strength, in its most gentle, practised form. A strength that did not destroy, but that created. 

Something about that thought added to the feelings you associated with the studio, that it was a space of safety, unlike the many debutante balls and soirées you attended. You were starting to wonder if it was the space that made you feel that way, or the presence of Mr Suh within it. After all, it was him that encouraged you to be honest, to be yourself, to try things because he believed you were capable. 

In short, you felt seen. 

“Are you alright?” you hadn’t realised you were staring, Mr Suh tilting his head at you curiously. 

You shook your head, clearing your throat gently in an attempt to conceal your embarrassment, standing up from the stool and stretching your hand out to him. 

“Can I try again?” 

He smiled, already stepping aside to let you take your place at the table.

===

Other rules to help a lady like you squelch the possibilities of romantic passion included forbidding the use of Christian names, paying compliments, and any kind of intimate contact.

“What’s this?” you touched a leatherbound book, secured closed with a string around the middle that sat on the table where you’d placed a fresh vase of salmon coloured roses from Mr Suh. 

Mr Suh turned around from where he was standing at his easel, setting the piece of charcoal in his hands down when he saw what you were looking at, quickly making his way over (borderline stumbling) as he took the book gently from your hands. 

You had grown comfortable with each other, having no qualms about entering deeper conversation, about embarrassing yourselves with each other, revealing deeper parts of yourself to each other, so it was safe to say that his reaction confused you. 

“Is it your diary?” you asked, eyes lighting up with a hint of mischief that Mr Suh found hard to remain firm against. 

Giving you a huff, he held the book behind his back with one arm, “It might as well be.” 

“So, it's not a diary? A notebook, then?” you asked, almost feeling like you were playing a game with how naturally your guesses were coming out, the childlike side of yourself resurfacing and making itself comfortable in Mr Suh’s presence. 

He nodded, “it’s my sketchbook.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him slightly, “... that I am not allowed to see?” 

Swallowing thickly, Mr Suh huffed, a hint of embarrassment in the way he averted his gaze just briefly, looking back at you and shaking his head. 

“What you ask of me… is not as simple as you make it seem,” he began, letting out a small sigh, “I would be baring my heart to you, quite plainly.” 

You weren’t sure why the thought of that made you wonder just what was inside his sketchbook. He insisted himself that he did not do portraits, so just what sort of sketches could be within that book that made him so hesitant to show you? You wondered what sketches could possibly hold pieces of his heart so clearly that he felt the need to protect it in such a way. 

“Is that such a horrifying thing?” You asked, genuinely curious, “you seem to have no problem flaunting it on your sleeve.” 

At your words, Mr Suh let out a huff of amusement, his lips pressed together as his expression turned more serious, almost speechless as he shook his head. 

“Not quite… you’ve been the only one able to see it thus far,” his words came out in a soft murmur, solidifying the thoughts that wavered in your heart. 

It was almost like a declaration of intimacy, something stirring within you at the reminder that your relationship with Mr Suh was more than just acquaintances, solidified by friendship and understanding, but entering into much more. 

You shook your head, “Only because you have dared to show it to me.” 

The look on Mr Suh’s face was unreadable, as if he had a million thoughts circling his mind that prevented him from settling on one emotion. And there you stood, oblivious to the fact that he was experiencing that same paralysing feeling of not being able to focus on anything other than you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I cannot show it to you yet,” he sighed, sounding more disappointed than you were. He should’ve known you weren’t one to dwell on it, though, respecting his wishes. 

“I understand,” you assured him, “Well, if you won’t let me see your sketchbook, what will you let me see?” 

Mr Suh’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, a soft smile gracing his features, humming in thought. 

“I suppose I could draw something for you now?” he offered, earning a smile from you as what you supposed was a reckless (genius) idea came to mind. 

“Could you draw it on me?” 

Mr Suh’s lips parted, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him or whether you’d actually said what he thought you did. 

“Hmm?” 

You nodded, “I said I want you to draw it on me.” 

Whether it was bold or reckless, you wouldn’t very well put a label on it at the moment. What you did know, however, was that this was definitely going against anything a ‘respectable lady like you’ should have been doing. It was different, you felt, from simply asking if he could draw you. It was like you said, a kind of vulnerability and trust you were willing to offer to him, for him to print his art onto your skin, something only the both of you would be able to see. 

Mr Suh’s throat felt dry, looking at you blankly and keeping his volume lowered because he felt as though his voice would give, “Uh… where, where exactly would you want it?” 

You debated on your options as you looked at him. You wanted it somewhere where you could keep it hidden, where your mother wouldn’t be able to see it as easily.

You knew that ruled out your hands and arms, since your mother’s gaze was always scanning you during mealtimes and when you played the piano, when your hands and arms weren’t hidden by your gloves. 

Your only other thought was to have it on your ankle, since that would be somewhere only you or your lady's maid would ever see, your mother didn’t very well pay attention to little details like that when it came to you, as long as what was noticeable wasn’t out of line. 

“Sorry, I realise I didn’t bother asking you if you were comfortable with it first,” you huffed, giving him a sheepish smile, feeling your heart stop at the smile he gave you. 

“Believe me, Miss Y/N, if I were uncomfortable with it, I would have told you by now,” he huffed, amusement in his smile as he retrieved his inkstand and quill. 

Only when he sat on the rug in front of you did you realise just what you had gotten yourself into, something about the proximity between the both of you was tempting. It felt close, yet in a way that made you desire to be even closer to him, both in the literal and figurative sense. 

Swallowing, you shifted in your seat, glancing up at him with a nervousness that wasn’t quite present just moments before. 

“Have you decided where, or what you would like me to draw?” he asked, crossing his legs as he leaned his palm against the floor to support his weight, the same calm confidence that made you feel shy under his gaze. 

You nodded, “On my ankle.” 

You watched the way he glanced at said ankle, covered by your stocking and your foot that was still covered by your shoe, blinking up at you before nodding. 

“Somewhere… only I get to see.” 

At that, Mr Suh smiled, “And is there anything in particular you would like me to draw?” 

Now it was your turn to smile, already excited to see what he would come up with, what he would associate with you. 

“I’ll let you decide that.” 

His eyebrows lifted, the image coming to mind almost immediately. 

Giving you a nod, he had barely registered what you were doing as you removed one of your shoes, averting his gaze and pretending to be busy with his ink as you started to remove one of your stockings, his gaze landing on the ribbon garter you had used to hold it up, tossing it aside as you worked on removing the silk stocking. 

Mr Suh let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, looking at his fingernails and then at the ribbon again, at your face and then at the stocking you now tossed aside next to the ribbon, unsure where to place his gaze out of respect for you. 

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to your now uncovered leg peeking out from under the hem of your dress. 

Nodding, he reached one of his hands out to grasp your ankle, the feeling of the warmth of his hands on your skin surprising you, your breath hitching just slightly and hoping he hadn’t noticed. 

You lifted your foot off of the ground to help him, surprised when he’d set your ankle on one of his thighs, understanding that the angle would make it easier for him and more comfortable for you. 

Mr Suh let out a small huff of amusement at the way you’d flinched when the quill had touched your skin. 

“Sorry, it was a little ticklish,” you huffed, the unfamiliar sensation distracting you from your nervousness slightly. 

You heard him sigh, his gaze still trained on whatever drawing he was working on.

“Miss Y/N,” he began, the tone with which he said your name making you soften, almost forgetting about your nervousness as you looked at him, humming in response, “I do hope you are not as willing to offer yourself to just any man in such a manner.” 

Your lips parted in shock, bashfulness creeping up on you again as you huffed, trying to mask your embarrassment with your words, “Do you suppose I should only make such an offer to you?” 

Mr Suh glanced up at you, detecting the little hint of challenge in your tone, his hand resting on where he was holding your ankle to keep it steady, his thumb smoothing over the skin unconsciously (or consciously, you wouldn’t have known). 

“My honest answer?” he spoke, his gaze searching yours with that same calm confidence of his, “is yes.”

Your stare was blank, in spite of the many thoughts racing in your mind. 

“You can rest assured, Mr Suh,” you murmured, suddenly feeling disappointed at the fact you did not know his first name, feeling as though addressing him so formally sounded off in a situation like this, “you are the only one I would trust with myself like this.” So intimately. 

Mr Suh poorly stifled the smile on his face as he tilted his head down, continuing with his drawing as you tried to calm your heart. 

“Actually, if you don’t mind me asking…” you murmured, swallowing as you mustered up your courage in spite of your shyness, “what is your first name?” 

Mr Suh replied naturally, as if not giving it a second thought as you felt the ticklish feeling of the quill against the delicate skin of your ankle. 

“Youngho,” he murmured. 

You hummed, clenching your fist to prevent yourself from shifting from the ticklish feeling.

“Youngho,” you echoed, feeling the ticklish feeling stop almost instantly. 

You felt his grip on your ankle tense before relaxing, looking up from your ankle and blinking at you slowly, his expression unreadable but rendering you speechless with how he was looking at you. 

Letting out a shaky breath, it didn’t register to you why he was so taken aback, your mind racing to the conduct books, wondering if it was because addressing him by his name like this was too intimate, too personal. Only then did your mind recall the conversation you had about his father, figuring that must have been why he seemed so shocked. 

“Sorry,” you blurted out, “I forgot about what you said about your father—” 

“No, no,” Youngho shook his head, reassurance in his expression and his tone, “... I want you to call me that.” 

Your eyebrows lifted, feeling as though something was being unlocked between the both of you, as if now it wasn’t just dipping your fingers into the depth of what you both desired, but stepping in, fully knowing what you were getting into with the action. 

“Will you call me by my first name as well?” 

Youngho nodded slowly, “Do you want me to?” 

You nodded, not even being able to find it in yourself to be embarrassed at how quickly you responded. 

“I do.” 

Youngho hummed, “then I will, Y/N .” 

Somehow, hearing it like that, spoken so delicately, spoken so intentionally by him, it was as if he were giving you more reason to fall in love with hearing your name again. 

It felt like it had been ages ever since you had heard someone call you by your name, hearing it felt foreign, yet it felt right, as if it was the only way you wished to hear it. Like a declaration of love. 

Letting go of your ankle, he gestured with a small (even slightly bashful) smile that you could take a look. With all the eagerness you’d been struggling to restrain, you pulled your leg closer to yourself, your smile growing when you spotted the delicate looking sunflower on your skin. 

“I like it very much,” you murmured, appreciating the delicate look of it, yet how it held a meaning that was anything but. 

Youngho simply smiled, “I’m pleased that you find it to your liking.” 

This time, Youngho wasn’t sure why he couldn’t take his gaze away from you as you wore the stocking over your leg, watching as the little sunflower got covered by the silk fabric that was eventually smoothed over your leg to just over your knee, the way you picked up the pink ribbon garter, tying it around the hem of the stocking with practised, routine movements. 

Youngho brought a hand up to the collar of his shirt, fixing his suspenders out of a need to fidget, to distract himself from his want to know what the silk ribbon would feel like in his hands, to distract himself from the feeling of the distance between the both of you. Yet not being able to feel as though it was a certain reverence that was keeping his gaze on you. 

Once you were done, you smoothed your dress over, standing up with a small grunt, your legs feeling sore from sitting in the same position for so long. Youngho stood up as well, though he kept his gaze averted, knowing it was about time for you to return home for tea. 

“I should be leaving now,” you spoke to fill the silence, drawing his gaze to you, not being able to smile at how flustered he looked, as much as he was trying to hide it. 

Youngho nodded, “Oh, yes. Yes, of course. Be safe on your way back.” 

Seeming to have composed himself, Youngho brought a hand up to run his fingers through his hair, giving you a tight-lipped smile. 

You nodded, taking your little purse and taking slow steps backwards, reluctant to leave even though you knew it would only be a short while before you got to see him again. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, opening the door for you. 

Turning to give him a smile, you nodded, “Goodbye, Youngho.” 

That day when you’d returned home, a giddy smile on your face and your heart thumping wildly like a protagonist in one of your sister’s romance novels, you couldn’t help but replay your interactions with Youngho in your head. 

A part of you wondered why you hadn’t asked him for his name sooner, because now it was all that made sense. The simple man you had come to know, who was genuine, observant, perceptive, sweet, honest. That was Youngho to you, that was what made sense to you. 

Even as you lay in bed that night, thinking about the little sunflower resting on the skin of your ankle, you were sure anybody else would have thought you were going crazy, but it replayed over and over again in your head. 

Youngho. Youngho. Youngho. 

Your little mantra of love. 

===

Another rule that was essential to remember, was that a gentleman might take the arm of a lady like yours through his, to support you while out walking. But he must never try to take your hand, even to shake it friendly-like. If he did, you must immediately withdraw it with a strong air of disapproval, whether you felt it or not. 

Something you greatly appreciated about Youngho was that he was never one to be afraid of getting his hands dirty. 

Surely you were the same, out in the garden digging up earthworms as you were a child even though your mother would yell at you that you were going to get your dress dirty. But overtime, as they clamped down stricter on their rules and as you grew more occupied with the various accomplishments they desired for you to build, you had to forego certain things that would get in the way of that. 

Things like painting. 

As much as it was a common accomplishment for a lady like you to have, your mother had always viewed it distastefully, saying that the way you went about it was far too messy. So you’d resorted to other means of creating art, like your flower arrangements. Those, she would excuse, since they were deemed ‘useful’ for the house, so you figured you had come to cling to it as a way for you to express that desire within you to create, to appreciate beauty in such a way. 

When you had told Youngho this, you should have known it was only natural for him to have offered you the opportunity to paint again. He was quick to give you the space, laying out large cloth on the floor to protect the rug, even going to the extent of asking you if you would be more comfortable working on the piece on the easel or on the floor. 

So that was how you ended up standing in front of the canvas, apron wrapped around you snugly as you let yourself enjoy the freedom of letting your body move without much thought. 

“You’d put me out of business if you sold your paintings,” Youngho huffed in amusement, one of many praises he’d offered to you when he saw you painting.

“I doubt so,” you muttered distractedly, frowning slightly at your painting. 

You huffed, turning slightly and picking up your fan from the little table that was next to your hip, making a last-ditch attempt at making the paint dry faster using the breeze you created with your fan. 

Deciding you had other ideas, you set the fan down on the table, looking at your painting and trying to execute your idea. 

For some reason though, it was growing frustrating as the paint didn’t seem to move like how you envisioned it would. Youngho seemed to sense your annoyance (though it was quite obvious through your frustrated huffs), turning his gaze away from his own canvas to face you with a hum. 

“What’s wrong?” Youngho asked, already getting up to make his way over to you, peering over at your painting from behind you. 

“I can’t seem to get it to fan out the way I want it to,” you sighed, “my brush isn’t big enough for it.” 

Youngho’s gaze on your painting was intent, seeming to be thinking from his own perspective, shrugging as he turned to you. 

“You’re free to use my hand as your brush,” he offered, his nonchalance making you pause to process his words. 

“Are you sure?” you asked, earning a nod from him. 

“Really, I’m sure,” he reassured, waiting patiently as you dared yourself to grasp his hand with both of yours. 

Youngho almost wanted to laugh, thinking of the time he had let you mull the paint, how you insisted that your strength used to mull the paint was much less than his, yet he had never felt it so strongly till now, in the firm grip with which you grasped his hand. 

An ever present strength in gentleness that he’d come to associate with you. 

You could practically feel the warmth radiating from his body with how close he stood behind you, with how he let his arm rest against yours as you moved it with ease. 

It was almost amusing to you, how when you used his hand to smear the paint, it looked exactly like how you had pictured it in your mind. It made you wonder if all along you’d grown used to observing him, how he paints, that it was natural for your mind to picture how he would make his mark on your creations.

“Perfect,” you murmured, gaze appreciating your painting, trying to ignore the tension within your body that came with being in such close proximity with Youngho.

Turning to face him, your hands still clasped around his palm and wrist, his soft skin a contrast to the sturdiness you felt as you held his hand, his soft features a contrast from the intensity of his gaze when it met yours. 

It seemed your thoughts had a mind of their own, as you let your gaze wander from the hazel of his eyes, to the deep black of his hair, to the dusty pink of his lips. 

Conduct books be damned, none of them warned you about him. 

“For some reason…” you began, your voice barely a murmur as you shifted your gaze back to meet his, watching how his gaze had flickered to your lips briefly, as if trying to catch himself, “no matter how close you are to me…” 

Youngho shook his head slightly, his lips parting to speak, “It never feels close enough.” 

You nodded, unsure what other words could express your heart better in this moment, feeling him lean in, the warmth of his breath tickling your lips, feeling as though it was a ghost of his kiss that was being pressed against your lips. 

You weren’t sure if you were breathing, the only thing on your mind being the little mantra of love you had for him beating in your heart, supplying you with courage, supplying you with even more affection for him. 

Feeling his lips brush against yours ever so slightly, you clutched his hand tighter in your grip, hearing him huff, a smile gracing his features.

“Are you teasing me?” you whispered. 

Youngho shook his head, watching as your eyes had fluttered shut so naturally, as his breath fanned over your cheek, “Not in the slightest bit.” 

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips against yours, softly, yet with insistence. Letting go of his hand, you let yourself make use of the courage coursing through your veins, bringing your hands up to cup his face and feeling the slight stubble under your palm, the action making him stumble forward slightly. Youngho’s hand reached out quickly to find purchase on something and ended up on your fan, the traces of colour from your painting now smeared against the once white and spotless accessory. 

You weren’t sure what you were doing, but it felt as though he did, with how he led the kiss, bringing his paint free hand up to touch the small of your back, pulling you gently towards him. 

So, you let yourself follow, follow the way his lips moved against yours, follow his movements that brought you closer to him, follow the way your head tilted up at the touch of his hand. 

You allowed him to spoil you, to fill your mind with only thoughts of him, with the little mantra that would repeat and that you wished to repeat for as long as your heart could feel for someone, for him. 

Youngho. Youngho. Youngho.

You hadn’t realised how much you were leaning into him, with how secure it felt for him to be supporting your weight like this. It didn’t even cross your mind to feel embarrassed at your lack of experience in this area, he never let you feel any of that, not with how he kissed you with such intention as though you were the only one he’d ever loved and would ever love.

It was a strange feeling, solidified by his kiss, to feel desired and even more loved. It wasn’t one or the other that you sensed in the way he’d deepened the kiss, in the way his paint covered hands had grasped your hip to hold you close, because as much as there was desire, there was love you felt in the way he cradled your face, in the way he let you melt into him with the promise that you would be supported. 

In that moment, you knew that regardless of his background, his wealth, his occupation, you were willing to give your heart to him. Only Youngho.  

=== 

A lady like you should have considered this common sense, but you must never confess your feelings until absolutely convinced of a man’s intentions.

Youngho was finding it hard to keep his heart from fluttering as you led him behind the church grounds, your hand grasping his firmly as you walked before him, familiar with the route in a way that only came from experience. 

It was interesting to him, he found, the feeling that stirred within his heart as he looked at your proud smile once the both of you had reached a little pond, its circumference marked out by big stones lined up against one another, and wildflowers decorating the grass. In this case, your actions definitely spoke louder than your words— a girl who couldn’t lie to save her life, willing to take such risks for him, someone only revealed to her as a poor painter. 

He remembered what he told Jaehyun, when the viscount was persuading him to meet the sister of the girl he loved. He remembered telling Jaehyun that he didn’t think love was going to be in the cards for him, but looking at you now, he knew he was wrong. The girl he was looking at, pointing at the little frog that swam past you in the pond and tapping his arm to get his attention, was love in all he had come to discover it to be. 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you drawled, gesturing around you at the empty open field, taking your seat next to the pond with Youngho following suit, the two empty glasses and bottle of wine in his hands clinking gently as he did so. 

“It’s beautiful,” Youngho gushed with extra dramatics, earning a huff of laughter from you, “how did you discover this place?” 

You shrugged, smoothing over your dress as you made yourself comfortable, “I told you, I spent a lot of time wandering around.” 

“Well, it was time well spent, indeed,” he smiled, his nose scrunching as he let the glasses lean against his knee, removing his gloves and setting them aside before getting the bottle open. 

“Where did you say that was from, again?” you asked, ever curious. 

Youngho paused briefly, glancing at the bottle before pouring some into each of the glasses. 

“Italy,” he said, “They import wine here, actually. The wine merchant? Do you recall? The one that was the previous landlord of my studio, he’s the owner of the winery that produces this wine.” 

“Wow,” you huffed, “Wonder why I’ve never seen much of it before.” 

At that, Youngho couldn’t help but laugh, looking at you sceptically, “You speak as though you’re an avid drinker.” 

Embarrassed by his teasing, you scoffed, though the smile on your face lingered, “I suppose I could have come across it in my time at home, you know, snooping around in my father’s study.” 

Youngho nodded, a patronising smile on his face, “Yeah, yeah, I suppose .” 

Removing your gloves, you’d set it next to his on the grass, accepting the glass from him with a small murmur of thanks. 

Sniffing the red liquid, you couldn’t help but glance up at him for some confirmation that it was supposed to smell like this, or what to anticipate its taste to be. 

“Go ahead, try it,” he nodded reassuringly, bringing his own glass to his lips, sipping the wine in a way that made him seem all-too-accustomed to such tasting. 

Taking a sip, you swallowed, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and a mustered smile, earning a bout of laughter from Youngho. 

“I’m guessing it doesn’t suit your tastes?” 

You shook your head in disagreement, “No, no, It’s just… interesting ,” you hummed, taking another sip and seeing his eyebrows lift as you did so, endearment written all over his features. 

“I shall have to get used to it, I suppose.” 

And get used to it, you did. 

It was in this very pursuit of ‘getting used to it’ that you found yourself growing much more unfiltered (or at least, more than usual). 

Your head had started to feel heavy, Youngho offering for you to rest your head on his lap, and you did so gladly, looking up at him and enjoying the feeling of his fingertips tracing your features lazily, as if committing them to memory, wondering if a sculpture would do you justice when it was made by his hands. 

“Your eyes are really pretty in this light,” you murmured. 

It’d been long since you stopped drinking, Youngho taking the liberty to finish your glass for you while you lay your head on his lap. 

Youngho almost sputtered around his drink, setting the glass down onto the grass and turning to look at you with a teasing smile.

“If this is you ‘getting used’ to the wine, I find it hard to have any complaints,” he laughed, “you’re smiling at me more than usual, and that’s saying a lot.” 

You brought your hands up to cover your mouth, though it didn’t do anything to conceal your smile, laughter bubbling out of you as you shook your head. 

“This is unfamiliar to me, but I find I cannot help but smile at you. It’s as though my body is moving in its most honest manner.” 

“It’s honest, that’s for sure,” he reassured, earning a hum from you. 

Reaching a hand out towards one of his hands, the one closest to you in your eyeline, you watched him switch the hand that was holding his wine glass so he could let you have his hand, wondering what exactly you were going to do with it. 

Frankly, you weren’t sure either, bringing his hand close to your face and daring yourself to press a gentle kiss to his palm, the smile that followed making Youngho’s eyebrows lift, his smile mirroring yours. 

You let go of his hand, letting it rest on top of your face and shutting your eyes, though it was amusing to him, the way he could feel the outline of your smile against his palm.

You noticed that Youngho grew more serious after a few drinks, a certain sleepiness taking over his gaze as he looked at nothing in particular. The both of you enjoyed the silence, aside from the sound of nature, the sound of the both of you just existing in that place, it was a peace you couldn’t quite describe. You couldn’t deny that the silence gave room for your thoughts to wander, your excitement for your sister’s return bringing with it all your fears about what would proceed from her return as well. 

“My sister is to return from her honeymoon soon,” you said, “I am sure she and her husband have plans to hold a private ball once they are here.” 

Judging from the absence of a smile from your face now, Youngho hummed, moving his hand just slightly so it rested against the side of your face now, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your cheek, warmth radiating from him to you. 

“You don’t sound very happy about that.” 

You shook your head, “I suppose it’s because I’m not.” 

Glancing up at him, you let one of your hands cover his, touching the skin of his hand in drowsy patterns, with no desire in mind but to feel him. 

“I’m sure their search for a suitable husband for me will only intensify once she returns,” you sighed deeply, eyebrows furrowing as you frowned. 

“Husband,” Youngho echoed, something akin to a mix of a sigh and a groan leaving him. 

“Dear husband ,” you drawled, as though you were calling someone, grimacing as soon as the words left your lips, meeting Youngho’s amused gaze and feeling the smile grace your features again. 

“You know, I never once heard my mother call my father anything other than his name before,” you recalled, shifting slightly where you lay so you could see Youngho better. 

Youngho hummed, nodding, “Me neither. I suppose maybe I was too young to notice. Either that or perhaps they saved the terms of endearment for when they were alone.” 

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in realisation. 

“You’re smart, I never considered that.” 

Youngho could only laugh, his hand smoothing over your hair affectionately, “Do I get a reward, then?” he asked. 

Youngho suddenly leaned over so he was close enough to you that it made you shut your eyes, opening them up again with a huff when you felt him press a kiss to your forehead instead, pulling back with giggles leaving him that made it hard for you to remain annoyed. 

“How cruel of you,” you huffed, earning a dramatic gasp from him. 

“Cruel? What an inappropriate descriptor of me,” he smiled. Perhaps he was right, that smile was anything but cruel. 

“What would you call your wife?” you asked, practically thinking out loud at this point. 

Your question surprised Youngho, but he was always sporting your various trains of thought or rambling, and it was no different this time. 

“That depends… on her personality, how I feel towards her,” he glanced at you as he finished speaking, averting his gaze back to the field as you felt his thumb continue to caress your cheek. 

“So, it would change from person to person?” 

Youngho hummed, “I suppose it would.” 

You were starting to realise the truth behind the phrase ‘liquid courage’, your gaze firm on Youngho with your next words. 

“What if it was me, then? What would you call me?” 

Youngho met your gaze, looking almost pensive for a moment as he felt the peace you described about the church grounds, the peace in his heart that came with your presence, and all the love you brought to him with you. 

“Beloved,” he spoke, again, as though he was calling your name, and as if you were hearing it in the only way you wished to hear it, “I’d call you beloved.” 

“My beloved,” he said with finality. 

In that moment, in that little declaration of who you were to him, it was as though you were being reminded of what you seemed to have forgotten. In being declared his beloved, you were worthy of love, you were loved as you were, regarded dearly even in your fear of not being useful or helpful. 

In short, you felt known. 

It was true, Youngho was not cruel. What was cruel was the reminder that your mother would never approve of him, what was cruel was the fact that once your sister returned, you were going to be thrown into whoever’s arms your family deemed fit. What was cruel was that you knew whoever they were, they weren’t Youngho. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, averting your gaze from his face. 

Youngho was feeling the effect of his words, knowing very well for himself that he was in far too deep now. But even despite this knowledge, he didn’t want to come out. He wanted to bury himself in all that he was feeling, to solidify the fact that when he thought of a wife, only your face came to mind, only you made sense to take that place. 

“Do you think it would have been different…” he glanced at you, searching your pensive gaze, “you know, if we had met under different circumstances.” 

“What circumstances?” you hummed, attentive in a way that made Youngho feel even more certain about his words. 

“As nobility.” 

The seriousness of his tone would’ve made you laugh under any other circumstance, considering it was completely hypothetical. But perhaps it was your pensive mood that made you consider his words more seriously, wishing they were the reality you were in. 

You frowned, shaking your head, “It’s never crossed my mind, but… I’m sure I would’ve been drawn to you the same.” 

Turning to brace a hand on his thigh as you sat up, letting his hand fall back onto his lap as you met his gaze, mirroring his seriousness and sincerity as you spoke the truth of what you felt. 

“I’m sure of it,” you repeated, as if hoping it was getting through to him, “nobility or not… you’re you .” 

Taking his hand in his, you fiddled with his fingers, interlocking your fingers, moving them just enough so you could press the tips of your fingernails against the pads of his fingertips. 

Glancing down at your hand in his, he let out a deep breath, looking back up at your face. 

“Do you mean that?” he asked, needing to hear the confirmation from your own lips. 

You shot him a look, a hint of a smile playing at your lips. 

“You know I’m not a good liar,” you reminded, a certain shyness overcoming you as you struggled to hold his gaze, something about the intensity of the way he was looking at you flustering you to no end. 

Youngho huffed, a hint of amusement in his features that let you know he was about to say something to tease you. 

“And you know I would believe anything you say to me when you say it like that.” 

You sighed, daring yourself to bring one of his hands up to your face, letting yourself lean into the warmth of his palm. 

“Youngho,” you began, and Youngho was sure just in how you said his name, there was all the sincerity he searched for, all the vulnerability of yourself that you were showing to him. 

“To be a lady and for me to be like this with you... I need you to understand what this means for me… I need you to understand all that I am risking, and know that I find it worth risking for you.” 

As the words left you, you felt unbearably exposed under his gaze, Youngho’s silence making you want to reassure him, your hand that covered his on your face rubbing the back of his hand gently. 

"Do you believe me?" you murmured. 

Youngho didn’t know what to do with all the love he was feeling, so he did what felt natural to him. 

He let his hand pull away from your face, pulling you close to him so he could wrap his arms around you, cradling your head in his hand, letting out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. 

“I believe you.”

In his arms, you felt the protection around your vulnerability, the intangible desire in your heart manifesting in the way you felt a sigh leave you, leaning into his embrace. 

=== 

And importantly, a lady like you should have a sacred regard to truth, for lying is a mean and despicable vice. 

Padding down the stairs on another morning, a few days after the night in the field with Youngho, you were going about what became your new routine, heading to the kitchen, ready to retrieve your share (and Youngho’s) of honey biscuits from your lady’s maid before you would head off to his studio. 

Except, today was different. 

You should have known something was off from the sympathetic looks you were getting from the staff since you came out of your room, not thinking much of it until you found your lady’s maid in the drawing room, seeing her slip a little pamphlet in your hands with an urgency that unsettled you, your gaze barely landing on the title before you heard your mother’s voice. 

“You,” your head snapped around at the sound of her tone, knowing almost instantly that the sinking feeling in your gut was not unfounded, “I believe we need to have a talk.”

Your gaze landed on your father who stood behind her, stoic and almost apathetic-looking as he simply stood there. 

With how angry your mother  seemed, you were surprised she was even talking to you at all. But as for your father? You felt it was worse, to be constantly searching for his gaze and not being met with it, as he fixed his gaze elsewhere. Following your parents up the stairs, your heart began to pound harshly as they entered your room, feeling as though its pounding stopped entirely when you saw your painting lying on the floor. 

“Is it true?” she asked, earning a frown from you. 

You glanced at your father, who had taken his place behind her, simply looking blankly at the floor. 

You frowned, “Is what true?” you dared to ask, watching warily as her jaw clenched. 

“It aggravates me how you still have the ability to act nonchalant,” she bent over, grabbing the painting so harshly that it made you grimace, “have you been acquainting yourself indecently with that painter ?” 

The way she spoke of his occupation was as though it was a crime, but that wasn’t your concern at this moment. You wondered how she knew, or how you should react, but like you said, you were never a good liar. Your expression alone was enough to give it away. 

“I want you to stop this immediately. You will not ruin your prospects, your reputation, your virtue, for a man who is not worth considering,” there was spite in her tone, the way she spoke about Youngho unnerving you. Though it all still didn’t answer your question of how she came to know about him. 

Your lips parted only to close again, unable to find the words you wished to express to her. 

“He is a good man,” was all you could muster, the scoff you received in return making you cower, feeling warm tears prick at your eyes. 

“Anyone can be a ‘good man’ ,” she told you, “being a ‘good man’ does not provide you financial security. Being a ‘good man ’ does not guarantee you a house. Being a ‘good man’ does not excuse recklessness.” 

You half expected your father to step in, to tell her to go easy on you. Or to try to soothe her temper so her words would become less cutting. But none of that came, even as you looked desperately at him for some signal that he would step in to help you, you continued to be met with the image of your father looking as though he had better things to be done elsewhere, dissociated from whatever was happening. 

You weren’t sure what hurt you more, the feeling of helplessness that overwhelmed you or the fear that it was only a prelude for what was to come. It felt as though you were being made to choose between disappointing your family or losing and disappointing the man you loved. Neither of which you wanted, but you knew you weren’t going to have much of a choice. 

“I forbid you from seeing that man again. You will not leave this house if it is not for an event,” your mother spoke, tossing your painting onto the floor and leaving without another word, your father following silently behind her. 

You didn’t realise you were crying until you felt your tears touch your lips, bringing your hand up to wipe your tears away and realising then that you were still holding the pamphlet your lady’s maid gave you. 

Bypassing the mocking title, you continued to read. 

It should have been obvious to you when you read your initial next to ‘Lady’, reading on in spite of yourself. 

‘... seen with a local painter in a position that shall not be described… Considering her sister’s success in marriage that elevated her to a viscountess, it must come as a shock to anyone for her to have looked much lower for her own marriage partner… a fling like this is surely only good for temporary excitement…’ 

You stopped reading, setting the pamphlet aside and burying your face into your mattress. 

How you missed your sister in a time like this, though you had no idea how you were going to explain this to her when she returned. 

You would soon find that your mother would do all the explaining for you, filling your sister in on all the details she’d procured from the scandal sheet while you were simply too upset to do any explaining for yourself. Frankly, the only thought on your mind was that you hoped Youngho wasn’t worried, since it had been weeks since you had stopped visiting his studio. 

Your sister’s husband, the viscount Jung Jaehyun, wasn’t helping either, insisting that he had a friend of his that he felt would be a suitable marriage partner for you. Your sister seemed to agree, casting sympathetic looks your way whenever the topic of marriage came up, but insisting in her own gentle way that perhaps it would be for the best to move forward. 

It was difficult to hear about how much property he had as the owner of a winery, his wealth or even his penchant for the arts because the only thing on your mind was the man with little to his name, sitting in his studio waiting for you to arrive. 

There was nothing left for you to do, not with how your mother wouldn’t speak to you or acknowledge you directly, not with how your father seemed to want to pretend nothing had ever happened to begin with, not with how you weren’t allowed to leave the house if it was not for social events now. It seemed the choice you were being handed on a platter was to be a good daughter, the product of all the conduct books you read; as helpless as it made you feel. 

===

You figured this was a rule you should have regarded more seriously, but a lady like you should remember that infallibility is not the property of man, or you may entail disappointment on yourself, by expecting what is never to be found.

Perhaps the higher power that was watching over you decided that things weren’t quite over yet.  

Because as you stood in the makeshift ballroom of your sister and her husband’s new house, the drawing room they had converted into a ballroom space for dancing and hosting, you couldn’t deny the way your stomach churned with anxiety at her husband’s excitement, insisting that his friend was to arrive soon. 

You were sure you’d tuned out the noise at one point, finding it hard to ignore the way you were feeling giddy (and not in a very good way), wanting nothing more but to be at home away from any potential suitors that weren’t Youngho. So, it was safe to say you thought your eyes were playing tricks on you when you saw the man walking in with the viscount. 

Dressed in clothes that looked even more elaborate and expensive than those you saw on Taeyong at the races, or even those the viscount adorned now, walking with the same air of calm confidence that you’d practically memorised by now. 

The same black hair, hazel eyes, dusty pink lips that grew clearer to you the closer they came to where you stood with your sister. 

None of it made sense, he shouldn’t even have been able to be here. 

You weren’t sure you were breathing, face to face with the very man that hadn’t left your mind for what seemed like forever. Your little mantra of love began to repeat in your head, as though it were natural for your heart to respond in such a way, desperate to let him know that his presence was felt. 

Youngho. Youngho. Youngho. 

You barely noticed how Jaehyun had introduced him, drawn back to the present moment with your sister’s voice ringing in your ears. 

“It is rather relieving to finally be able to put a face to the faceless Marquess,” she huffed in amusement, “it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Suh.” 

Marquess? 

You frowned, eyebrows furrowed and your gaze firmly fixed on Youngho’s. The marquess they had told you about for the past week, who had recently inherited all the property of his father who had passed, property including a winery. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what an arduous task it was to get Johnny to agree to attend today’s ball,” Jaehyun laughed, making your frown deepen, your sister being able to sense that this was more than just a displeasure that you felt towards the Marquess. 

Youngho’s gaze was apologetic, which had only served to upset you even more. You were trying to process all that was happening, but couldn’t shake the mixed emotions you were feeling all at once. 

Turning to you, your sister nudged you lightly, “Is something wrong?” 

You managed to tear your gaze away from Youngho, turning to your sister and taking in a deep breath, though it didn’t feel like you were breathing at all, the air not seeming to satisfy your lungs and making you feel as though you had to try again. 

“I need to get some air.” 

You started walking, but you weren’t sure where exactly your destination was. All you knew was that you were hyper aware of the fact that Youngho was following you and you didn’t want to be caught with him alone outside the building, not wanting your mother to be even more upset at you. 

It would’ve been amusing if the situation was different, feeling as though you were playing a game of cat and mouse as you tried to out-walk him in the confines of the drawing room. Youngho’s strides were always much bigger than yours, though, so you should have known that it was only a matter of time before he would have caught up with you.

“May I have the honour of a dance with you, Miss Y/N,” he spoke firmly, loud enough that the lady next to you had turned to you with an expectant look, wondering why you were taking so long to respond to him. 

It was unfortunate, how in a situation like this, you couldn’t exactly go against the etiquette rules you loved to flout. You knew that for as long as you were in this room, you had to acknowledge the truth that as long as you were not spoken for, you had no choice but to accept his offer to dance. 

You settled for a small nod, keeping your gaze low as you accepted his hand and let him lead you to where the other guests were dancing. You barely had time to adjust before you had to react quickly to the song, following the choreography with ease and perhaps even being slightly annoyed that Youngho was even better at it than you were. 

“Please say something,” he pleaded, making you shake your head, still keeping your gaze on anything but his face, not knowing what your heart would make you do if you were to meet his attentive gaze in this space. 

“No,” you muttered, “I’ve been too rude to a marquess all this time.” 

Youngho was barely able to stop himself. 

“Y/N, please.” 

Your head snapped up at the sound of your name, tears welling up in your eyes as Youngho’s expression softened. You felt his grip on you tighten, steadying you, the same unspoken promise that you were supported even when you felt like your body would give at any moment. 

It didn’t make sense to you in your head. 

Someone like Youngho, who never underestimated you, who was always attentive to you, who read you like an open book and never held it against you. You didn’t think he would ever treat you like how your family did, hiding things from you, viewing you as a little child who was incapable of handling grown-up matters, confining her to her childish duties of pleasing others and arranging flowers. It was an awful feeling that came with the thought that Youngho, of all people, would ever subject you to such humiliation. 

“Why did you lie?” you frowned, swallowing thickly though it did nothing to the lump you felt in your throat, “did you think I wouldn’t be able to handle it? Did you find some kind of pleasure in making me a fool?” 

You scoffed, blinking harshly, “As if I haven’t had more than my fair share of that Young— Your Lordship .” 

Youngho frowned, “Why are you calling me that?” 

You sighed deeply, feeling breathless from both the choreography and your sheer emotion. 

“Is it not your title?” 

Youngho shook his head, more out of dismissal than denial, “What happened to ‘even if we met as nobility’? Did that mean nothing to you?” 

Your lips parted, offence in your gaze as you scoffed. 

“I’m upset, but do not think for even a second that I did not mean every word I said to you,” you told him, a firmness to your tone that made Youngho regret his words, “unfortunately, I cannot say the same for you.” 

Youngho paused, a tense silence falling between the both of you that contrasted the cheerful music echoing around the room. 

“It was not personal,” he murmured. 

You frowned, still unable to place what you were feeling, unsure how to convey it to him in a way that would allow him to understand why you were reacting this way. 

“It is always personal. How could you…” you averted your gaze, shaking your head, “how could you compromise me—”

“ Compromise you?” his tone was incredulous, eyes widening in shock, “I kissed you.” 

Clenching your jaw, you huffed, “Forgive me, truly, for finding it hard to see things for what they are. Forgive me for allowing myself to expect .” 

Your words made Youngho recall your meeting at the races, perhaps some things were best enjoyed without too many expectations . He begged to differ, though, he just wasn’t sure how to let you know that he was ready to give to you whatever you asked for, whatever you were expecting from him. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, frustrated at the environment the both of you were in, at the lack of privacy he felt here, at the way it prevented him from showing you and telling you all that he truly wished to, having to settle for pathetic apologies and pointed looks. 

You let out a sigh, “Just answer me one question.” 

Youngho nodded quickly, humming to prompt you to continue. 

“Were you ever planning on telling me the truth?” you asked, training your gaze up to meet his once again and trying to distract yourself from the way your heart still swelled with love for the one you gazed upon. 

“The day after that night at the church. I was going to tell you then,” he answered, sincerity in his tone, in the way he looked at you, in the way he held you. 

The day the scandal sheet was released.

You nodded, hearing the music come to an end as you let him go, feeling his hands slip from you reluctantly. 

Turning your head, you met your mother’s gaze. 

Youngho noticed the way you had tensed up and increased the distance between yourself and him, returning to the daughter raised by conduct books that your mother was pleased with. The ‘respectable lady’ that would continue to fight her urge to yearn for her love’s touch and search for his gaze in the crowd for the rest of the night. 

=== 

When considering marriage, a lady like you needed to make sure that arrangements offered equitable compensation as it were, for all involved and no one, including the extended families, was being shorted in the exchange.

“How was the ball? Surely it wasn’t so bad after all, wasn’t it?” Jaehyun asked, earning a sigh from Johnny. 

“No, it was the most horrendous torture ever imaginable,” he deadpanned, finding it hard to focus on the boxing match that was happening in front of him, wondering why Jaehyun decided to bring him here of all places. But he figured he wouldn’t have minded being her under any other circumstance. 

Wincing at the fighter who had taken a particularly bad hit, Jaehyun folded his arms across his chest, “Shame, though, I thought you and Miss Y/N would’ve gotten along particularly well.” 

Johnny frowned, “What makes you say that?” 

Jaehyun shrugged, his gaze still following the fight, “You know, I heard from her sister that she was involved with another man… a painter, if I recall correctly. And her mother didn’t seem to approve because of his status or something along that line…” he trailed off distractedly, earning an expectant hum from Johnny. 

“And?” he prompted, impatient now to know what was said about his and your relationship. 

“Oh, right. Yes, so we figured that it would be better to present her with some other options, you know? We thought introducing her to you would help her move on from it, but she’s been off ever since the day of the ball. Her sister says she’s never seen her like that before, going from being so insistent to so… emotionally detached from it all.” 

Johnny hummed, something in him feeling as though he needed to prepare himself to receive a piece of bad news, judging from the way Jaehyun sighed. 

“But I suppose her mother has worn her out,” Jaehyun sighed, “she’s been recommending another man to Miss Y/N, one she claims is more reasonable… you know, dowry-wise and all.” 

Johnny frowned, “Didn’t anyone try to dissuade her?” 

Jaehyun frowned, “I suppose that’s the thing, she hasn’t protested to it herself… my suspicion is that she’s afraid of disappointing her mother.” 

For some reason, Johnny couldn’t wrap his head around it, “And did you try to say anything?” 

Jaehyun shot Johnny a knowing look, “Believe me, I’ve tried. Miss Y/N was the one that told me it was alright.” 

“She did?” Johnny frowned, earning a huff from Jaehyun. 

“Do you see that man over there, standing by the table?” Jaehyun nudged Johnny, gesturing to the direction of the table with a nod of his head, Johnny’s gaze landing on a man who looked twice your age, counting money from bets he’d won in his hands. 

“That’s the man who is courting her,” Jaehyun told him pointedly, observing Johnny’s reaction carefully as the latter’s gaze stayed fixated on the man, a slight furrow to his eyebrows as he watched him.

Jaehyun continued, “His status is similar to theirs, so it does not require much of a dowry, which I suppose is what her mother’s so agreeable about. But… I think you can understand what I mean when I say I cannot seem to warm up to him.” 

Johnny watched the way the man’s gaze had followed a woman who had walked past him to get to her seat in the spectators stand, something about the way he looked at her unnerving Johnny, growing uncomfortable at the thought of the man looking at you in such a predatory manner. 

“And she has no complaints? About him courting her?” Johnny asked, still staring down the man as though he were trying to burn holes into the man. 

Jaehyun was growing frustrated, wondering how long Johnny was going to deflect the issue at hand with his questions. 

“Don’t you think you would be better off asking her yourself?” 

Johnny tore his gaze away from the man, staring blankly at Jaehyun with his lips parted slightly.

“My time away did not make me a fool, Johnny. It was obvious the moment I saw how you reacted to each other at the ball,” Jaehyun rolled his eyes, “do you suppose there were any other painters in town named Youngho that didn’t work in their own homes?” 

Johnny was at a loss for words, starting to understand why Jaehyun decided to bring him to a random boxing match at mid-day. 

“How long more are you going to spend sitting here and pretending you’re okay with it?” Jaehyun hummed, “you helped me before, and honestly, I’d be more frustrated with myself if I let you carry on like this.” 

Johnny’s gaze shifted to the fighters, then to the man, then back to Jaehyun, unsure what his course of action was going to be but knowing that he wanted nothing more than to go to you now. 

“Her parents are here. I suggest you go now, I can buy you some time,” Jaehyun told him smoothly, and Johnny wondered if this was how he must have looked before when he was aiding Jaehyun with his own love troubles. 

But there was no time for him to dwell on that now, already getting up and leaving as fast as he could to the address Jaehyun had told him. 

“Miss Y/N, you have a caller,” your butler informed you as you were in the middle of playing a piano piece in your drawing room, stopping yourself in embarrassment when you realised it was the piece Youngho told you was his favourite.

Though you weren’t exactly sure why you were embarrassed, it wasn’t as if your butler knew that. 

“Who is it?” 

“Lord Suh, Miss,” your eyes widened as the words left him, standing up from the piano and adjusting your dress, your hand coming up to your face, making sure there was no sleep in your eyes as you nodded at your butler. 

“Okay, you can send him in. Thank you.”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when Youngho entered, though the scene had come to mind many times before. 

You imagined him coming into the room with a dramatic profession of apologies, and another scenario where you imagined him to come to you with a sombre expression on his face, pleading with you to forgive him. You would be lying if you said you didn’t even imagine him simply coming to the room and kissing you, but of course, that was a little far fetched. 

What you surely didn’t anticipate was for Youngho to enter the room, a determined look on his face as he met your gaze, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“Are you thinking?” he asked. 

Taken aback by his words, you tilted your head at him, confusion written all over your features. This definitely was not something you anticipated in your daydreams.  

“What’s there for me to think so urgently about?” you asked, watching as Youngho brought a hand up to press it against his forehead, letting his hand drop to his side. 

Shaking his head, he pressed his tongue in his cheek, a small huff leaving him, “Do you really want to wed that man? You cannot possibly be in love with him, you barely know him!”

His tone was insistent, bordering on desperate, a contrast to your still solemn expression, something you were falling back on in the hope that you would not start crying. 

“My mother knows him well enough.” 

Youngho sighed, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips, and you struggled not to let your gaze linger too long on his lips, shifting your gaze to look out of the window. 

“It is your marriage, Y/N. Not your mother’s, nor your family’s,” he spoke, softer now, but with all the same insistence as before. 

“Is it really?” you frowned, “aren’t all marriages these days purely business? When you marry someone, you’re marrying their family as well—weren’t you all too aware of this? Surely, this was why you chose not to tell me you were a marquess, was it not?” 

Youngho frowned. 

“That was not why I did not tell you. It was never about business to begin with,” he shook his head, pained to see your hurt being expressed in such a way, yet still unsure about how to voice out his thoughts. 

“You may take me for a fool, Youngho, but I know for a fact that you are anything but,” you folded your arms across your chest, breathing in deeply though it didn’t seem to satisfy you again, breathlessness creeping up on you, “what makes you think I am any different? How can you be so sure that I will marry this man for love?” 

Youngho’s expression turned even more serious at your words, holding a certain confidence to it that intimidated you, knowing you could never hide from him as much as you were attempting to do so now through your words. 

“I don’t believe you’d marry without it,” he spoke firmly, more as a statement, a fact. 

It made your mind go blank, knowing he was right. 

You shook your head slowly, your gaze hardening in an attempt to remain firm, “Whether you believe me or not, that does not change the fact that he has made his intentions clear. He is offering money and stability. My family can afford the dowry. I am in no position to refuse.” 

Perhaps you would be able to if he did something, you wanted to add. But somehow in that moment, you were afraid. The past few weeks have been a reminder to you of the helplessness you feared, the kind where you were unsupported, left to flail around for yourself not knowing what you were doing. 

This hardening of your gaze, of your words, of your heart, they were your last-ditch attempt at protecting yourself from that feeling of helplessness you were starting to grow familiar with in the past few weeks. You did not want to grow familiar with it, not for the rest of your life. 

“That man does not deserve you,” Youngho frowned, the way he looked at you with such sincerity making you avert your gaze, his attentiveness becoming too much, as if he was unlocking the part of you that yearned, telling you the things you needed to be reminded of. 

“I did not choose him based on how much he deserves me,” you muttered. 

“That’s because it wasn’t you choosing him at all,” Youngho shot back just as quickly, making you sigh. 

“I know,” you murmured, your voice barely above a murmur as you felt your body yelling at you, telling you to take deeper breaths even though with each breath you took, it didn’t feel like enough.

You were starting to feel like the room was growing suffocating, frustration and longing and everything in between overwhelming you, “I do not have a choice—” 

“No, but you do,” he insisted, “you do have a choice. You can reject him and no one would blame you.” 

Your words were coming out faster than you could process now, only being able to focus on the boy in front of you and the way your heart felt like it was aching for that protection, that assurance, that Youngho allowed you to know. 

“And then what? Disappoint my family by saying no to the one thing they let me do?” you huffed, exasperated, “lose my parents’ trust because I wasn’t honest with them for once in my life?” 

Youngho sighed deeply, “What about love—” 

“And what about honesty?” You said, trying to breathe deeply but the ache in your chest made it difficult to, your fists clenching around your clothes as if trying to lessen the way it felt like you were being crushed. 

“Is that what you are ready to settle for, then?” Youngho’s tone was disbelieving, as if baffled that you were willing to sacrifice your needs and wants so easily, “mindless flattery from a man who is only honest about the fact that he sees you as a prize to be won?” 

Youngho regretted his words the moment they left him, seeing how you were leaning on the piano for balance, shaky breaths leaving you as your eyes welled up with tears once again. 

“I know!” You blurted, “... I know,” your hand came up to wipe your tears harshly, the other hand still gripping tightly onto your clothes, “It is not flattering to be desired… whilst not being loved.” 

Youngho couldn’t help himself now, moving without hesitation as he rushed over to where you were, his hands coming to grip your shoulders, letting you lean on him as he pulled you into his arms, your hands letting go of your dress weakly and falling to your sides as you let yourself remember what it felt like to be enveloped in this protection, in this support. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his hand coming up to rub your back soothingly, his hold unwavering as he waited for you to calm down. 

“Why are you doing this to me, Youngho?” Your voice was muffled through his clothing, your tears falling freely now as you cried, his hands still comforting you as he sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry for upsetting you, I didn’t mean to.” 

You frowned, daring yourself to pull away from where your head rested against his chest, looking up to meet his gaze, still wrapped in the security of his arms. 

“I’m upset… yet I don’t quite think that’s the word I’m looking for. I’m… at a loss,” you told him, seeing him press his lips into a firm line as he nodded at you slowly, prompting you to continue. 

“Having to listen to you tell me not to marry a man we both know I have no true desire to marry, that I have no affection for… it’s… Here I am, feeling chained to my guilt as a daughter yet not being able to find any part of me that is truly satisfied in making up for my guilt in this way, or fulfilling my ‘duty’ as a daughter through this obedience.” 

You swallowed, averting your gaze to glance at Youngho’s collar before bringing your gaze back up to meet his eyes, the same hazel glow in them that made you feel as though he were the sun and you were simply a sunflower, gravitating towards him. 

Youngho guided you over to the sofa near the piano, letting you sit down, one of his hands still placed protectively over your hand, something you very much appreciated, serving to ground you almost.

“I… I didn’t know what to think, you just stopped showing up and I hadn’t heard from you, I was… I was worried. And to suddenly hear that you were being courted by this man, I just couldn’t help myself,” Youngho admitted, though there wasn’t a trace of regret in his tone that he was here. He didn’t regret this. 

You sighed, the memory feeling almost fresh in your mind as you recalled it. 

“My mother wouldn’t speak to me for weeks after she found my painting, after she read what they said in the scandal sheet. Do you think I like having to be in this position? To desire to be loved by the both of you but to feel as though the two are mutually exclusive.” 

At that moment, it felt as though you were laying your heart bare to Youngho, feeling as though you were the man in the painting you saw in the church, stepping out of the safety of your boat into the raging waters because you saw the one you loved, because you heard them call you to step out, and so you did. Willing yourself to be vulnerable for this love you felt for Youngho. 

“I was upset because… well, how can you even think of asking me if this is what I want? How can you think that for a second I would want to trade you in for a man who cannot possibly compare to you?” you frowned, bewildered that he could ever think such a thing. 

“How could you think for a second that I would want to settle for that man’s corrupt desire?” you murmured, searching his gaze that you saw was growing more insistent. 

“Well, then, what if you had both? What if you had someone who both desired and loved you with their entire being?” 

You shot him a pointed look. 

You knew Youngho was one that enjoyed speaking hypothetically about things, but you didn’t think now was exactly a perfect time to be doing so. 

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you huffed, “Youngho, discussing hypotheticals is not going to make this situation any less real.” 

How could you explain this to him? It didn’t matter if it was someone who desired and loved you, you were only wishing that someone would be him. 

Youngho shook his head, eyes wide as if he were sounding out a new idea to you for his art piece, making your eyebrows lift in curiosity. 

“I know, but what if you already had someone who loved you? What if they were in front of you right now. Would that change your mind about proceeding with that man?” 

You frowned, “Youngho, would you just speak plainly with me? What is it that you are trying to say?” 

Youngho’s lips parted, huffing in amusement in spite of himself, gathering up the rest of his heart to present it to you. 

“I don’t know how much plainer I can get than…”

Youngho’s eyebrows lifted slightly, an almost pleading look to his gaze as you felt his hand squeeze yours gently. 

“Y/N, do you not see that I love you deeply?” 

There it was, the grip that caught you before you could sink into the raging waters, the security and safety that enveloped your vulnerability. 

Perhaps the question you were meant to ponder all this while wasn’t really ‘how willing were you to be vulnerable?’, but ‘how safe did you feel to be vulnerable?’. 

The answer was simple to you now as you looked at him. 

Simple, but far from simplistic. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” you told him, watching how his expression softened, his hand over yours grasping onto you tighter. 

“If it’s the money your mother is worried about… I don’t care about a dowry,” he blurted, thinking off the top of his head, the sudden mention of a dowry making you laugh at the absurdity of it. 

“I know you don’t, you never had to,” you scoffed, still recovering from your amusement that he would think you cared about such a thing. 

Youngho’s eyebrows lifted slightly in question, more curious than challenging. 

“Does that fact upset you?” 

You hummed, bringing one of your hands to cover his, running your thumb over the skin of his knuckles in a way that made Youngho melt. 

“How do I explain this to you, Youngho?... You don’t care about a dowry? Quite frankly, neither do I,” you let out an amused huff, “I find myself unable to care about anything other than the fact that it was your hands, your eyes, your heart… that it was you who… let me know what it feels like to be immortalised.”

“It has ruined any chance of me considering anyone else, because if I am to be immortalised, if I am to be conveyed into art, if I am to be vulnerable, if I am to be held... I want it to happen by your hands,” your tone was firm, all the love that swelled in your heart finally making its way out of you and trying to reach his, “your hands and no one else’s, Youngho.” 

“Even now with the knowledge that you are a marquess, that fact has no weight on my decision to love you because I did not fall in love with a marquess . I fell in love with you, your soul. " 

Youngho didn’t think he was breathing. All he could focus on was your voice that rang in his head, sweeter than any melody you played on the piano, sweeter than any sound he had heard, laced with love and painting vivid colours on his heart. 

“I only ever have the privilege of one answer for the suitors I’m presented with… but it was an answer I was only ever willing, or hoping , to offer to you,” a hint of a smile played at your lips, “so, forgive me, for not caring about the dowry either.” 

Youngho’s lips parted, not finding himself thinking about his words carefully, simply letting his heart go before him in his words, his own love desperate to make its way into your heart and make a home there. 

“I brought something for you,” he began, using his free hand (simply because he did not want to let go of your hand) to reach into his coat, pulling out the leatherbound sketchbook you recognised from before. 

“Remember how I told you it was never about business to begin with?” he spoke, earning a nod from you, his fingers absently toying with the string of the worn sketchbook. 

“It’s because… I’ve seen how fickle people are. How they change the moment they find out you are of a certain status or possess certain wealth. It made me cynical for a long time,” this time, you couldn’t find it in you to look away, his gaze that was searching yours was far too beautiful to miss, “I didn’t trust people’s intentions because most of the time they really were only interested in my money or my family.” 

You nodded, prompting him to continue. 

“It’s why I never liked doing portraits,” he admitted, “they always felt cold . It was… overwhelming to me; the idea of immortalising a creature so fickle, so tainted by power and money. You could never really see the person for who they were, only the things they wanted to show off.” 

“So,” he let out a deep sigh, “I told myself that if I ever met someone who could see me as just a poor painter, with little to nothing to his name. Just me, with nothing but myself to show off, and love me in spite of that… then I’d consider. I know it doesn’t change the fact that I lied to you, but… I can’t say I regret it because you proved me wrong.” 

You felt your heart ache, wishing you could express to him just how much love you had for him, how much love he had been missing out on all this while. You wished to hold him in it for as long as you could. 

“You were the first,” he murmured, “to truly see me.” 

He pushed the sketchbook towards you, lifting your hand slightly to let it rest on the leather. 

You recalled his words, how showing you his sketchbook would be him baring his heart to you, and somehow the thought made a wave of emotion wash through you. This was his way of stepping out of the boat, rushing to you after your heart called out to him, willing himself to be vulnerable for love. 

“This,” he gestured to the sketchbook, and perhaps implied much more, “is yours now.”

Letting out a deep breath, this time his confidence showing in the firmness of his tone, the surety of his gaze, “I’ve come to realise that… it was always yours.”   

Letting go of your hands slowly, with all the reluctance in his being, he stood up, nodding resolutely more for himself than for you. 

“I should be taking my leave now… I… hope I’ve made my intentions clear.” 

And you let him leave without another word, watching as his figure disappeared out of your door, past the sunflowers in your garden that looked as though they too were reluctant for him to leave. 

Directing your gaze back to his sketchbook, you fiddled with the string, almost hesitant to open it out of a sheer want to treat it delicately. 

His sketchbook, his art, his heart that he declared was yours now, that was always yours. You saw it clearly once you undid the little knot that kept it closed. 

You saw it in the drawing of your hands on the piano keys, in the drawing of the view of your back as you walked away from him at the flower market, sunflowers peeking over your shoulder to look at him, in the drawing of your hands clasped in front of your dress holding the bundle of cloth wrapped around the honey biscuits. 

You continued to flip the pages. 

The image of your side view, playing the piano in his studio, the image of you tending to the flowers that he gave you, the view of you mulling the paint from where he sat on his stool. The view of you holding his sketches above your head as you decorated his studio. 

It was as though you were seeing yourself from his perspective, ridden with a certain affection and yearning that felt so intimate to be looking at in such a way, knowing it was his hands that had conveyed you into this… permanence. It was sureness found even in the strokes of graphite against paper. 

You dared yourself to continue to flip the pages. 

You noticed that there were even more drawings now, multiple drawings of the same memory, as if you were watching the moment happen before your eyes again. 

An image of your stocking halfway up your calf, your hands grasping it firmly by the hem. Another image of your hands around the delicate pink silk ribbon garter, in the middle of untying the garter. An image of your leg with the little sunflower on your ankle, another image of just that same sunflower alone. 

An image of you in the field with him that night, the mouth of the wine glass touching delicately against your lips, an image of the little smile you mustered after tasting the wine. An image of the smile that hardly left your face that night as you looked at him. Next to the image of your smile, a drawing of tulips. An image of his view of you as you lay your head on his lap, looking up at him, almost embarrassing you as you saw how much affection you could detect in your gaze even then. 

An image of your hand clasped around his, almost being able to remember the feel of his fingertips under your nails as you pressed them gently against his skin. An image of your eyes shut, lips gently parted, wildflowers peeking out from the grass next to your shoulders and his thigh as you waited for the feel of his lips against yours. 

The detail of your features in watercolour as you flipped the pages almost made you feel as though you were looking at a mirror. There was nothing cold about what you were looking at, but instead all the warmth that came with your soul and his, reflected on the paper. 

The whole sketchbook was filled with you, and in it, him as well. All the love he had for you in every line, in every shade, even in the pressure of his pencil against paper, in the colours that made his sketches come alive. This was his heart, for your eyes only. 

In short, you felt loved. 

Perhaps, this was it. The intangible thing you sought, love, made tangible in Youngho. 

=== 

Dancing was tricky business, as you knew. And a rule that you couldn’t help but call to mind now was that if a lady like you were to dance more than twice with the same man in the same night, or furthermore refuse to dance with any but him, you were basically announcing to the world that the both of you were engaged.

It was all that rang through your head as you stood with your sister as the viscount had just returned with drinks for the both of you, slipping off your gloves to accept the drink as you trained your gaze on where your mother was a little far off from you, seeming to be in an intense conversation with Youngho. 

“What do you suppose they’re talking about?” you whispered harshly to your sister, anxious as you watched from afar. 

Her laugh caught you off guard, turning to her with wide-eyes. 

“What else do you think they could be talking about? You don’t suppose they would be engaging in such a fervent conversation about paintings, do you?” her tone was sarcastic, laced with amusement as you frowned, huffing. 

Sure, as you watched Youngho, he looked relaxed, radiating the same calm confidence as he spoke to your mother, even smiling while your mother’s expression remained almost surprised. 

You figured that was a good sign, right? As opposed to if her expression was sour. 

“I’m trying to read his lips,” Jaehyun murmured, “but I’m absolutely certain he just said ‘you have nothing to worry about’.” 

Your eyebrows lifted. Of course it would be Youngho, saying that to your mother of all people. That was almost as good as pointing at a table and demanding for it to get up and walk.

Your mind was absolutely racing as you saw her nod, already making her way towards you, with Youngho following a few paces behind her. 

Reaching you, you exchanged a look with your sister before turning your gaze towards your mother. Jaehyun stood beside her, looking on with evident amusement at the scene playing out before him. 

Letting out a tired sigh, she lowered her voice to a murmur. 

“I do not know what it is about you that has seemed to have caught his eye,” she looked as though she were in disbelief, “But the young man was so insistent on getting my approval for him to pursue a marriage with you. Judging by his demeanour, his background, I find no complaints.” 

Your eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise, glancing at Youngho who stood behind her with a certain sense of pride that glowed within you. A pride that came with knowing that this was who he was— insistent, charming, sincere— and that did not change with his social status. 

“He insists that he has already asked for your permission, is that correct?” 

You tore your gaze away from Youngho, meeting your mother’s gaze with a firmness unlike Youngho has ever seen you show your mother, his own little pride glowing in his heart as he watched you. 

“He has,” you told her, “and I have granted it to him.”

Your mother’s eyes widened just briefly, surprised at your tone, yet feeling as though she should have seen it coming at the same time. 

She simply let out a breath through her nose, nodding. 

“Then I expect you to see this through,” she told you, as though it were an instruction, “for a man with his status to be looking so favourably upon you, it is a miracle , if anything. Do not ruin this opportunity.” 

You couldn’t help the smile that played at your lips, amused at the way your mother had no idea who Youngho was, and that she would continue to have no idea that he was the same Youngho she was forbidding you to see just weeks before. And you intended for it to stay that way, yours and Youngho’s little secret. 

“Oh, don’t worry, mother. I definitely won’t.” 

Turning to give him a sweet smile, Youngho felt his heart jump in his chest as he extended a hand towards you, asking you for a dance with such politeness that it almost made you laugh. 

Following him onto the dance floor, you assumed your positions so naturally that it was a given that anyone who looked in from the outside would be able to tell that the two of you were well-acquainted.

And as you started to dance, somehow, it felt like Youngho was the only one you could focus on in the room. 

Youngho. Youngho. Youngho.

Your little mantra of love began to echo once again with each beat of your heart, begging to reach his heart that you almost didn’t notice yourself saying his name. 

Youngho smiled, a certain knowingness to his playful gaze. 

“Yes, my beloved?” 

Your lips parted, poorly hiding the way the words had sent warmth all through your body, the feeling of his hand pressing against yours as you waltzed, the intimacy of the choreography and the way he was looking at you making your head spin. 

“Beloved?” you echoed, implication behind the word making you lean into him unconsciously, burying yourself in the security you felt in his hold. 

Youngho let out an amused huff that turned into a giggle that bubbled out of him, “You sound surprised. It is no secret that I love you, Y/N.” 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“My head is spinning,” you admitted, earning a dramatic gasp from him, giving you a playful sheepish look. 

“Sorry, perhaps I dressed too nicely today,” he drawled, the teasing lilt of his tone making your smile grow. 

“Are you teasing me?” you scoffed, your smile removing any possible trace of menace. 

Youngho pressed his lips together, the softest of smiles on his face. 

“Not in the slightest bit.” 

Feigning a glare at him, it didn’t last long the longer you held his gaze, the both of you poorly stifling your joy as little giggles threatened to escape you. 

“I’m not going to impose on you,” he began, sounding breathless from barely having recovered from his bout of giggles. 

“That’s questionable,” you took your chance to quip, earning a scoff from him. 

“All I’ll say is, I’m going to ask you for a third dance. And what you choose to respond with is entirely up to you.” 

Your tongue peeked out to wet your lips, the gesture making Youngho’s gaze shift briefly from your eyes to your lips, evidently having to force himself to bring his gaze back up to your eyes, looking at you with all the affection you wished you could immortalise in a painting. 

Nodding at him, you let yourself enjoy the rest of the dance with him, smiling until your cheeks hurt. And you let it continue as he asked you for a third dance, the both of you not giving it a second thought as you continued to relish in each other’s presence, in each other’s touch, in each other’s love. 

Oblivious to the murmurs and gossip that the both of you were inciting, you were only able to focus on him and him on you, protected and enveloped in the love you both shared no matter how exposed you felt in the room, just as how it should’ve always been. 

Conduct books be damned, here you were, simply a lady in love. 

#johnny seo #johnny seo au #johnny #johnny suh #nct #nct johnny #suh youngho #seo youngho #nct 127 #nct 127 johnny #nct127 #nct127 au #johnny au #johnny suh au #johnny imagines #johnny scenarios #nct oneshot #johnny x reader #johnny seo x reader #johnny suh x reader #regency au #nct fluff #nct angst #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct fic #nct au #nct 127 fic #nct 127 au #nct fanfic

[haespoir]

texts w/ boyfriend!jaehyun

part ???? who knows… i love him tho… also any jjk fans: jaehyun as nanami.. ARE YOU SEEING WHAT IM PUTTING DOWN?????

#nct #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct imagines #nct social media au #nct smau #nct texts #jaehyun #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun texts #jaehyun smau #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fluff #nct 127 #nct x reader #nct fic #nct127 texts #nct fanfic #nct fluff

[kiachiako]

september nct recs

my library of favorites from SEPTEMBER <3 all creds to authors

[ sorted by word count ]

series

[m] HAECHAN | settle down pt. 1 | pt. 2 | @hyuckmov — rockstar!hyuck, genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), fluff

oneshots

[m] MARK | sweet cream, cold brew | @lucyandthepen 26.4k — something about mark lee keeps you up at night, and you’re pretty sure that it isn’t the lingering smell of espresso on his shirt.

[m] MARK | my little doll | @haechansdoll 20k — Humans have hormones, you understand that much. But does that explain why you can't stop the filthy daydreams that fill your head whenever you see a specific redhead? Does it excuse you for getting turned on by him simply breathing in your direction? And to make matters worse, he is off-limits, if your father found out you were messing with his prized boxer? You would be chained to a tower and your red-haired crush would be used as mincemeat.

HAECHAN | one, two, three | @cherryeoniis 19k — In which you devise three different ways to get your best friend to fall in love with you, but things never really go quite as planned.

[m] JENO | summer hair = forever young | @setsugekka 18.1k — Only three weeks after being broken up with by your long time partner, you’re dragged along for your friends summer vacation plans despite your best attempts at staying home to do little more than feel sorry for yourself. Day one? Dinner and a movie. Day two? The bar down the street that smells like old socks. Day three? Well, that’s the waterpark, and the cute, blonde lifeguard that seems to make the lazy river his mainstay is a bit of a sight for sore eyes.

JAEMIN | written in ink | @cherryeoniis 15.3k — professor!jaemin, historical au (early 19th century), fluff, angst, strangers to lovers

[m] MARK | watch me | @sluttyten 14.6k — you pick up the voyeuristic habit of watching your neighbor that never closes his curtains and whose face you never see. on an unrelated note, you start dating the cute barista from down the street that also happens to live in the building across from yours. what could happen?

TAEIL | in earnest | @neonun-au 12k — a letter written in haste when you were fifteen and in love with your best friend gets sent out in the dawn of your engagement. when a reply is sent, revealing feelings you had long thought forgotten, you are left with a choice to make amidst a rather awkward visit. 

[m] JENO | fight club | @tyonfs 11.9k — after park jisung introduces you to his shady after-school activity, you realize it’s far too dangerous to be involved with the underground fight club in any way. their members are rough around the edges—except for lee jeno, who keeps you coming back for more.

MARK | a series of white lies | @tyonfs 10.5k — in which it takes you six years to accept that you’re in love with mark lee. (it takes him one.)

HAECHAN | wicked games | @cherryeoniis 10.1k — angst, fluff, suggestive, university! au, friends with benefits, fuckboy! haechan

MARK | baseball (& other disasters) | @tqmies 10k — Everyone admired Mark Lee, starting pitcher of your school’s baseball team and famed ladies man. You, on the other hand, only know him as the boy who broke your dorm lobbies microwave the first time you met.

[m] JAEHYUN | dive | @yougotthatbilly 9.2k — frat boy!Jaehyun: Jaehyun calls shotgun.

[m] RENJUN | high-waisted shorts | @tyonfs 7.8k — huang renjun might be the least committed to all this “bitch hunting” bullshit, and he doesn’t want to stoop to the level of stupidity his friends are at. that’s why he’s pissed when you’re strutting around in those high waisted shorts wherever you go, making renjun lose all sense of reason.

[m] JAEMIN | blur | @jaeminvore 7.5k — Waking up to the sunlight blazing onto your face and hungover was one thing. Waking up to the sunlight blazing onto your face, hungover and in a bed that wasn’t your own in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that were obviously not yours, was another and a punishment specifically made for you—your own personal hell.

[m] JAEHYUN | racer | @smileysuh 6.7k — street racer!Jaehyun, star-crossed lovers, secret relationship, step-brother!Johnny

[m] HAECHAN | tattoos together | @cherryeoniis 5.4k — rockstar!haechan x reader

[m] DOYOUNG | hungry for you | @sluttyten 4.9k — doyoung is your best friend’s older brother, and you hate each other until one evening you’re alone together and the tension finally breaks

HAECHAN | dance to this | @cherryeoniis 3.8k — dancer! haechan x dancer! reader, university au, slight enemies to lovers

. . .

drowning in college rn :((

xoxo <3

#nct fic recs #nct fic rec #nct imagine #nct smut #nct127 #nct 127 fic #nct 127 #nct dream #nct #nct u #nct imagines #nct fic #nct fics #nct dream imagines #nct127 imagines #nct127 fic recs #nct au #nct aus #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fic recs #jaehyun fic #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun fic recs #haechan x reader #haechan imagines #haechan au #haechan fic recs #haechan smut #renjun imagines

[jungwnies]

syn ' he's your husband, but not by choice. maybe it can work? maybe it'll always be a contract. pairing ' gn!reader x husband!jaehyun

this is definitely one of my favorite one shots i've ever written

“how can you even stay with someone who doesn’t even love you?” is the number one asked question.

you didn’t want to marry jaehyun, but you did. but part of you did like him, he wasn’t like other rich boys.

he didn’t go behind your back and cheat on you, he didn’t leave you at home on business trips. he would talk to you, ask you how your day was, and he never kept you trapped in your own home.

he gave you freedom, he didn’t even care if you wanted to sleep with another guy.

his effort was his no limit credit card; but yeah it’s true. how did you like someone who didn’t love you?

it was one of those days, where he’d come home late, and just get into bed after showering without saying another word.

you always wondered why the two of you would sleep in the same bed but not touch each other.

but it was odd, he didn’t say good night like he usually did.

you never pry, bur this time you were curious, “long day?” you whisper turning towards him.

jaehyun hums in response.

you look at jaehyun’s sleepy eyes, you always knew he was handsome. so you always wondered why you couldn’t love him like he was your husband.

“do you like me?” jaehyun asks, in a low voice.

“hm?” you respond.

“someone told me i should just let you go today.” jaehyun tells you, opening his eyes. “am i bad to you?”

you shake your head, “no, you’re not.”

“how come you haven’t asked for a divorce?” jaehyun asks.

you shrug, “i guess part of me wonders what we’ll be in the future.”

“what do you mean?”

“i just wonder, if we stay together maybe we’ll be able to love each other like a real married couple.” you tell him, with a smile.

jaehyun chuckles, “i’ve wondered that too.”

— time skip

after that conversation everything changed; he changed.

usually when you came home you’d be alone for a few hours, but today was different.

the house was scented with a different aroma, food.

you walk into the kitchen, jaehyun in an apron, and a few things cooking in the stove.

you take off your coat and hang it behind a chair before greeting him, “i’m surprised you’re home.”

jaehyun laughs and stirs the pot, “i want to make this work, have a seat.”

you sit down at the island counter and watch him cook, he brings over the wooden spoon straight from the pot and puts it to your mouth, “have a taste.”

you taste the soup and nod, “this is actually really good, how come this is the first time you’re cooking for me?”

jaehyun leans over the counter and pecks your lips, the first time since the wedding. it wasn’t awkward, but it felt different.

his cheeks turn a shade of red, as well as his ears.

you laugh at his cute reaction to kissing you, “you’re kinda cute, honestly.”

“shut up.” he tells you before turning around to tend to the food on the stove.

you know what, maybe this will work.

2022 © jungwnies

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #jaehyun x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct #jaehyun #masterlist #nct127 masterlist #nct 127 #nct 127 au #nct 127 fic #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun au #jaehyun fic #jaehyun x yn #jaehyun x you #kflixnet #𐐪♡︎₊˚ ― jungwnies #𐐪♡︎₊˚ ― jungwnies #jungwnies

[gimmehyuck]

try again | j.jh

summary. jaehyun remembers the night he met you, and even after that one night he often thought of you and wished things would have been different, but by a weird twist of fate he gets to see you again, except this time... you're not alone.

or alternatively:

jaehyun gets to try again, for real this time.

pairing. idol!jaehyun x teacher!yn

words. 19.8k-ish

genre. somewhat of a second chance romance? lots of cute things going on, and it wouldn't be a gimmehyuck fic if i didn't have something angsty

warnings. there's not much to warn about tbh? jaehyun not believing in love at first sight but then essentially does, there's a one night stand (nothing explicit), and also a child (gasp i know), alcohol is mentioned as well as pineapple on pizza, a wild blue haired haechan makes an appearance, johnmark being the best, jaehyun is generally unhappy with being an idol at this stage of his life, idk but y'all can thank my friend ruby for this getting finished, she was on my ass about it... happy late birthday jaehyun lmao

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

this was completely and utterly unlike himself, jaehyun thought over and over as he laid in your bed listening to you breathe. he wasn’t a one-night stand kind of man, he was too busy to let himself fall into these kind of temptations. he was a man, he told himself, and yeah, he liked sex, but the middle of tour? he shook his head at himself as he stared at the ceiling.

his mouth spoke on his own when he saw you, your beauty catching him entirely off guard. dinner at 6 with johnny was only supposed to be a quick get-out-of-the-hotel-for-a-bit thing, forty-five minutes tops. but the second you walked up and asked if you could start them off with any waters, or if they preferred beer, he was enamored. forty-five minutes turned into double that and johnny could only smile at himself at the very obvious flirtatious exchanges and when you wrote your number on the receipt you had placed on the table with a scribbled note that said ‘i get off at 11, call me if you want :)’, johnny was more than supportive.

“man, just live a little.” johnny had told him in the taxi to the hotel, and jaehyun was still on the fence about it but when it was 10:53 and he still couldn’t get your smiling face out of his head, his fingers moved entirely on their own. you responded to him at 11 exactly, and even though he had just ate and wasn’t hungry, he agreed when you asked if he’d be up to get something to eat with you. twenty minutes later he found himself in your presence again, baseball hat tugged as far down as it would go and a mask tugged slightly down to rest on his chin and he couldn’t help but listen to things about yourself and he realized he wanted to know more and more with each laugh you let out.

he wasn’t a love at first sight kind of man, but he could understand that thought behind it because, damn, you were funny and kind and absolutely beautiful.

“sorry, i’ve been going on too much about myself, haven’t i?” you asked, face turning a little sheepish when you realized he hadn’t said much of a word the last fifteen minutes but you noticed his smile never fell from his face. he shook his head in answer and picked up a fry from the shared pile on the table, “no, i’m enjoying hearing all about you.”

“well, let’s change it up some, tell me about yourself. you from around here?” you asked, copying his movements and munching on a fry yourself.

“mmm,” he thought for a moment. he didn’t want to be secretive, but he wasn’t comfortable turning the conversation into a long winded one about his group and his fame and although he was thankful for all of that, he noticed it had slowly started to wear him down. no, he genuinely was enjoying just being himself with you, not having to be anyone else. “i’m from seoul, and i work… in entertainment.” he finally decided on.

not a lie, not exactly.

“oh, that sounds really exciting! do you get to meet a lot of famous people doing that?” you asked tilting your head slightly as you did so, genuine curiosity on your face.

his smile grew, oh if only you knew. “i have here and there, they’re just people even if they’re famous.”

you nodded in response to that and your lips twisted slightly in a frown, “i always feel a little bad for celebrities in that sense. i can’t imagine worrying about how my next sentence will be dissected and twisted into something else.”

the more you spoke, the more you surprised him. no one really thought about them in that way, usually jumping directly to the misconstruing of his words or actions as something else entirely.

“yeah, i imagine that’s pretty difficult.” he agreed with you knowingly, then asked, “so do you enjoy being a waitress?”

your smile faltered a little, and you sighed, “i mean, yeah. i like meeting new people but i’m only doing it for another semester and then i’ve got my degree. it took me longer than i’d like to admit, since i’m almost twenty-four now but i had to work enough to make the money to pay for my tuition and well, yeah. so i’ll have my bachelors in a few months’ time and then i’ll be done with the restaurant.”

“oh?” jaehyun asked, reaching again for more fries. “what are you getting your degree in?”

“teaching!” you said with a brilliant smile on your face. “i want to teach, but lately i’ve been leaning towards teaching english overseas and i think you were my sign to do just that. i’ve been debating between korea and japan.”

jaehyun laughed a little at that, “well not to be biased but i can vouch for korea. it’s a really beautiful place.”

and the conversation continued like that, asking questions back and forth. you answering him honestly and jaehyun answering you as honestly as he could without turning the conversation into the direction he didn’t want it to go. the food was gone and the conversation was still going but you had invited him to your place which wasn’t that far away and jaehyun thought he’d hesitate to say yes but his answer was so immediate it startled him a bit. the constant back and forth went on even still at your apartment and he felt like he had known you for a long time, much longer than just a few hours at least, he felt at ease and comfortable and it was a feeling he didn’t realize he was missing. when you suddenly kissed him midsentence he froze, his entire face blank as his brain processed what had just happened, unsure how to exactly to proceed next and you blushed brightly at him, your confidence unwavering.

“sorry,” you giggled a little nervously at the way his face was in shock, “i don’t have any expectations of tonight, but i wanted to kiss you at least once. you’re so cute, especially your dimples. i’m sorry if i made you uncomf – mmph!” his lips effectively silencing you in the same manner yours had him.

except he didn’t pull away, and you wrapped your arms around him and the night carried on, each kiss leading into a touch, and then a gasp. you led him into your room and kicked the door shut with your foot, hands frantically removing clothing in a trail to the bed. small giggles were shared between gasping breaths within the breaks of kissing and the gasps slowly transformed into sounds of pleasure and while you fell asleep against him after, jaehyun couldn’t turn his racing mind off.

he didn’t regret anything, he didn’t regret his actions. he didn’t regret you.

he regretted that he couldn’t stay.

and so when he knew you were fully asleep, when your breathing was the deepest, he got up from your bed and slowly replaced his clothes one by one, dragging out the moments he had in your presence. his hat was the last thing he found on the floor and he tugged it on, sighing softly to himself, pulling out his phone to read that it was 5:20 am, and with one last glance over his shoulder he left you there in the bed sound asleep. a deep guilt he couldn’t shake making a home for itself in his chest.

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                              aug 9

9:33 am you: hey! everything ok?

9:35 am you: wanna go get breakfast? :)

12:42 pm dimples: i’m sorry, i just saw this. i had work things to take care of. how did you sleep?

3:30 pm you: that’s ok! i slept alright :)

3:31 pm you: are you busy tonight? wanna get food?

4:45 pm dimples: if i get off in time, sure. i’ll let you know.

7:02 pm you: you alright?

7:28 pm dimples: i’m sorry, again. work is kicking my ass, how did your day go?

7:32 pm you: it was fine! started working on an essay i had due, you know. the fun stuff, how about you? busy?

7:45 pm dimples: you have no idea haha

7:49 pm you: you can tell me about it if you want? believe it or not, i’m a great listener

                                       read 10:45 pm

                           aug 13

2:43 pm you: sent attachment

2:43 pm you: saw this and remembered how you

2:43 pm you: sorry, thumb hit send lol. you mentioned you liked this band, and i thought of you

2:44 pm you: hope you’re ok

                           read 12:01 am

                           aug 19

11:01 pm you: y’know, i’m not mad at you or anything i did say i had no expectations lol. just kinda hoped this would have been different, you know? it kinda felt different to me…

11:02 pm you: but that’s alright lol i hope you’re ok

                                     delivered

                          aug 31

7:49 am you: jaehyun

7:50 am you: look, i need you to respond

7:50 am you: please

7:51 am you: i’m freaking out

7:51 am you: idk what to do, and i’m scared

                                                 not delivered

7:53 am you: what the fuck??

                                               not delivered

7:55 am you: fuck. you. jaehyun.

                                               not delivered

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

five years later.

although the years had passed for jaehyun, it was all so quick that the night with you still felt fresh to him. he often thought of you and how you were, often thought of if you graduated and were teaching. if you got to do everything you had confessed to him that night in the extended lengths of the conversations had.

he often thought if you were here in korea with him like you had planned and he just had no clue.

if you were, you hated him, he was sure.

his manager had caught him checking his phone that night with an unsaved number on it, had sneakily read your messages over his shoulder and absolutely lost it on him. he went on and on about his idol image, his career, his future and repeated ‘what if this got out? what if dispatch found it?’ and jaehyun couldn’t say anything back but ‘okay’. the feeling he had when talking to you, the small feeling of being himself again, smothered in an instant.

when you had sent him a picture of a vinyl record of one of his favorite bands, he wanted so badly to respond to you. he had even typed out a response when he finally was able to read it, but he knew it wouldn’t help anything at all if he did. he really did think it was better to let it lie, and so he turned off his read receipts.

the last message he saw from you, made him gnaw on his bottom lip, and the next day he left the country going back to korea and his number was changed.

he wanted to be different for you, he had barely met you but he knew you, it wasn’t a coincidence to him. but what kind of life would a long-distance relationship be with someone who would be so busy some days or even weeks that he couldn’t respond? he knew you’d always be worried, or hurt when communication was so small. he thought of it a lot. and he was thinking of all those things, when he was sure, he had ultimately decided, that you probably didn’t actually want to be with him.

he would have just… liked it if you had.

maybe if he weren’t famous he would have dated you.

maybe it would have been like one of the cheesy romance movies taeyong liked to watch, maybe he even would have fallen in love.

and maybe… maybe he would have even married you if his daydream let him get that far, if his life would have followed the cliché movie plot, but that was all a what if to him now. something he liked to sit and think about if only just to make sure the guilt never left him.

“jaehyun?” his name being called pulled him out of his memories and his head jerked up to look at who had called him. his manager was staring at him with drawn eyebrows, and at jaehyun’s confused expression he breathed deeply out of his nose.

“what do you think?” this time it was the PR manager asking, the person who had asked him, johnny, and mark to come to the conference room to go over their schedules for the next couple of days.

“about what? sorry, i was…” jaehyun trailed off.

“he thinks it’s a great idea.” mark answered for him, giving jaehyun a concerned look. “he loves kids.”

“okay, then it’s set. the kids are unaware they’re meeting you all, and they probably won’t really realize you’re famous but it will be filmed for content with permission from the schools principal already. It’ll be good for the groups image, everyone loved the last time you guys sat with kids.” and with that the meeting was done, it wasn’t really to ask them if they wanted to participate but to tell them what they would be doing. jaehyun didn’t mind this that much because it was true. he did love kids.

once the managers had left the room, johnny turned in his chair to give jaehyun a scrupulous look.

“dude, why were you spacing out so bad?” mark asked, slouching in his chair as his chin saw in his palm and his elbow rested on the table. to this date, johnny was the only other person who knew about you and his night he had spent with you. johnny nodded at the quick eye contact, understanding immediately.

“dunno, i think i’m just tired. i didn’t sleep much last night.” jaehyun brushed off mark’s question with a shrug and mark sighed at that.

“well, you better get some rest tonight. those kids aren’t going to chill out just because you’re tired.” mark said as he stood, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats, shooting one last look at jaehyun before leaving the room.

“you know, it’s been a few years but maybe she’s thinking of you too. why not try reaching out?” johnny whispered to him, and jaehyun gave johnny a not-quite-there smile that was really just a grimace.

“nah, it’s fine. she’s probably changed her number since then, and besides, even if she didn’t she definitely hates me now. i know i would.” johnny frowned then as his friend got up and left the room, the big glass door swinging closed softly behind him.

something had changed in jaehyun that night when he came back, it wasn’t a huge, drastic change but johnny noticed it nonetheless. he wasn’t always distracted by his guilty thoughts of you, but on several occasions jaehyun had gotten drunk with him and started talking about you and everything about you that he knew.

by this point johnny felt he knew you just as well as jaehyun had.

and about sixty percent of those occasions, johnny had to console him and reassure him that you probably didn’t hate him but would probably just be upset at him, and that he was sure you’d forgive jaehyun if he explained the situation.

johnny was never confident in that though. five years is a long time to go on thinking about someone you spent one night with.

and, johnny often thought, five years was a long time to dwell on all the anger left from waking up alone from someone you spent one night with.

and although if it was only supposed to be just one night… even johnny knew it was more than that.

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mark was bouncing on the balls of his feet, his hands contained in his pockets but jaehyun couldn’t help the smile that grew at the younger mans energy. there was always something about children that brought out the kid side of the younger members and that was always contagious and within minutes, jaehyun was smiling just as brightly as mark had been.

they were told to wait until given the signal to come out, as all the kids were now sitting in different circles in the room. the four-year-old class wasn’t very large, and they had come to the SM building to take a tour.

in recent years SM had opened its doors to field trips for younger kids, usually it was elementary ages but after some strings were pulled, they allowed the class going in to kindergarten to be included if they would allow them to be part of the youtube series SM had going on of ‘idols with kids’.

this wasn’t the group’s first event with kids, the group was large at this time and they had rotated out and didn’t have to do it often, but it was their turn and it was a nice break, jaehyun thought.

certainly better than another photoshoot.

johnny tapped jaehyun on the shoulder, the signal had been given and the three men entered the room full of energetic children. there were only about twelve of them total, and jaehyun noticed the teachers stood off to the side, two women leaning against the wall with their masks up and covering their face.

jaehyun paid them very little attention as he went to his assigned table to sit down with the kids. he took his place at the circle table and folded his legs underneath him, sitting as the kids were.

the kids grew quiet at the presence of the adult man at their table, and he noticed his table had two girls and two boys. the little girl that sat closest to him had big bright eyes and her little hands brushed her bangs away from her eyes.

he noticed her little pigtails had little fuzzy clips in them that matched her dress and his heart melted at how adorable she was. she seemed to be the boldest of the group as she was the only one to look him in the eyes.

“hi everyone, my name is jaehyun.” he said kindly, trying to make the kids feel at ease.

“hello, mister.” the cute girl with pigtails said and when she spoke, small dimples formed at the corners of her mouth and he was intrigued at how much they looked like his.

“hello, miss.” jaehyun nodded and replied easily and the little girls smile grew as did her dimples. and then a thought visibly appeared across her face and she turned to her other friends at the table.

“it’s rude to not say hi,” her lips were in a pouty frown as she looked at them. she was a bossy little thing, he noticed but her friends immediately chimed in with quiet hello’s. that seemed to make her happy and she nodded dramatically. jaehyun knew the only thing they had to do while they were here was color with them, and talk to them for the camera’s sake, and so he did just that.

the little girl next to him asked him which page he wanted to color first, and he reached forward to slide a piece of paper with the outline of a bunny holding a carrot and then she asked her friends which ones they wanted. he noticed she chose last and his heart melted even more at how utterly sweet the little exchange was.

“what are your names?” he asked the table as a whole, putting on his gentlest smile, which wasn’t hard for him to find. the little boy to his left spoke up this time, starting to get comfortable with jaehyun’s presence.

“my name in jiwon, and he’s seojun… she’s heeyoung, and,” he said pointing out each person one by one dramatically as he finally landed on the little girl who sat beside him. “her name is yeoruem.”

“oh you all have pretty names,” jaehyun commented and the boys seemed to swell with a sense of pride by being told they had nice names from a stranger. he noticed the kids start talking a little bit, but they mostly focused on their coloring. yeoreum sat beside him, a crayon gripped tightly in her hand and her tongue stuck between her lips and she concentrated on her page, she had chosen a big teddy bear and she was coloring it purple.

she was getting a little frustrated he could tell with how she kept huffing and puffing and finally she put her crayon down and put her cheek in her tiny hand dramatically, and the cute pout made jaehyun chuckle softly.

“what’s the matter, yeoreum?” he cooed at her gently.

“i like to stay in the lines and i messed up.”

“well let’s see if we can fix it, hmm?” and he picked up her crayon and offered it to her. she took it in her hand again and he proceeded to point at a small spot, his arms wrapping around her and helping her hand move just right and she took his direction with a grin. when she finally got it she pushed his hand away.

“thank you mister jaehyun, i want to try and do it now myself.” and jaehyun held up his hands in surrender.

“you’re a very independent little girl, yeoreum.” jaehyun commented to her as he went back to coloring on his bunny, picking up an orange crayon to fill in the carrot.

“thank you!” she beamed, not taking her eyes off of her teddy bear. “my mommy says the same thing.”

“your mommy is a very smart lady,” jaehyun replied and she looked up then. her face twisting in an scowl that was too cute to be remotely threatening considering she was four.

“no,” she argued, greatly offended. “my mommy is the smartest lady. and she’s one of my teachers too, she’s right over there.”

and it was in that moment that several things happened simultaneously.

yeoreum pointed at the wall to one of the women jaehyun had barely taken notice of when he walked in. his eyes looked up in the direction that her tiny hand pointed in and as he looked up, the woman turned her face away from him to say something to the other teacher so he couldn’t see her face but at the same time one of the kids from johnny’s table screamed dramatically.

“miss y/n!” the little boy wailed, and jaehyun felt his heart leap to his throat, and his stomach plummeted as if he were on a rollercoaster while he watched as the same lady who had turned away rush forward to see what the little boy needed, but jaehyun couldn’t even focus on that. he felt his world around him slow to a grinding halt, his eyes solely focused on you. on the small parts of your face he could visibly see due to the mask you wore.

but he was unsure how he had missed you when he walked in. yours was the face that he dreamt of, and he was sure his jaw was dropped. his eyes drifted slightly from your face to johnny whose expression probably matched his own, his eyes flickering between you and jaehyun.

jaehyun felt his mouth go dry in the next second as another realization hit him. he whipped his head to look down at the little girl next to him and she was intently focused on where her mom stood at the other table. jaehyun tried three times to swallow before he was successful.

“yeoreum?” he asked, voice shaking slightly.

she tore her eyes from you and looked up to make eye contact with jaehyun. “yes, mister jaehyun?”

“miss y/n is your mother?” he asked, face searching this little girls who, the more he looked, the more he found himself staring back.

“no, she’s my mommy.” she answered smartly.

“ah, yes. she’s your mommy…” he trailed off, eyes flickering back up to see you standing back with the other woman and you were pointedly avoiding eye contact with him, instead staring at yeoreum who was still looking at him.

“and yeoreum, how – when is your birthday?”

“may first,” she chirped and he dragged his eyes away from you to look down at the little girl and his face drained of all color entirely.

“um… mister jaehyun? you look like you don’t feel so good.” she said worriedly, and he gulped again, trying to calm his nerves. his mental math couldn’t be that wrong, could it? there’s no way, was there? no, those dimples were undeniable evidence.

someone somewhere had pity on him, because right when he felt that he may pass out or throw up or do a combination of both, their manager came out and called the session with the idols to an end, the cameras folding up then and were put away and the other teacher called everyone to come stand with you and her.

yeoreum stood up and patted her dress, and she reached down and pulled on jaehyun’s hand to have him stand up with her.

“c’mon mister jaehyun, i want you to meet my mommy so you can see that she’s the smartest lady in the whole world,” and as jaehyun slowly stood to his feet, yeoreum waved her hand to have him bend down to her level so she could whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “but don’t tell miss jisoo, she may get upset.”

jaehyun could only nod as she pulled him over to the other kids and you, and he braced himself for disaster.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

you had fought tooth and nail with the principal of your center about going to SM. you knew the chances of jaehyun being one of the idols to work with would be slim but you didn’t want to take that chance. however when she had asked you the reason why you were so adamant against going to the entertainment company’s headquarters, you couldn’t very well give her the reason that your child’s clueless father works there. it would open up more questions and you had done well the past five years keeping it under wraps that no one knew who yeoreum’s father was, not even your mother.

you had realized after he had blocked your number of who he was when you did a google search of ‘jaehyun korea entertainment’ to see page after page of his face, and you realized he was a common name in korea. it made a little more sense then as to why he suddenly started ignoring you.

you thought he may have been different based on the hours of conversations you both shared, but since he was a celebrity, you assumed you were just another person on his list of hookups throughout his tour stops.

and so when you saw him walk in with two of his other members, you felt your heart jump. and then when you saw he sat at your daughter’s table your heart immediately sank and you felt your body get hot, the same feeling you felt when you found out you were pregnant.

you stood at the back with your co-teacher, hiding in plain sight. you were thankful that you had made it to the end, the interaction between them going well even if he didn’t know.

he seemed to almost have an instant attachment to her and you couldn’t help the way your heart swooped when he bent around her to help her with her coloring. it was a few moments after that that she noticed yeoreum point her tiny finger in your direction and you almost cursed aloud.

you quickly turned your head to look at jisoo, trying to find any random question to ask her to start a conversation to avoid his eye contact but when you heard one of your students, a little boy named yunho, screaming for you across the room you only allowed yourself three seconds to panic before you crossed the room to see what was the matter.

you briefly made eye contact with the man, you had learned his name was johnny after researching jaehyun’s group, and he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. you ignored him after that, understanding that he must have known about you and that somehow both angered and embarrassed you.

“what’s wrong, yunho?” you asked as you crouched next to the crying boy.

“min-minhee,” he hiccupped, big alligator tears falling down his face. “minhee took my crayon and i was still using it!” and you patted the young boy’s head affectionately.

“minhee…” you started, voice slightly scolding and the other boy mentioned was purposefully looking away from you. “is that true?”

minhee turned his head further away from you and you couldn’t help but laugh slightly, “minhee, you know that isn’t nice.” after a few seconds, and another glance up at johnny who was now looking at the table behind you, eyes wide.

minhee finally turned around and gave yunho back his crayon and apologized after you prompted him to do so. crisis averted, you took a deep breath and stood up, purposefully avoiding the table your daughter sat at but when you reached the wall, you felt his eyes on you but instead you noticed how your daughter stared up at him, eyes already full of adoration.

the cameras were put away and jisoo called everyone’s attention. you were focused on the other children gathering up, doing headcounts one by one until you heard a soft, “mommy?” from behind you.

“what is it, baby?” you asked turning around, expecting to see your daughter but instead came face to face with jaehyun who your daughter had in tow.

“this is mister jaehyun, and i wanted him to meet you so i could show him how sma – show him my teacher.” she fumbled over her sentence and you furrowed your brows at her choice of words.

“hello miss y/n,” jaehyun choked out, and you noticed his face was very pale. you wanted to laugh and tell him that it served him right, but you wanted to pretend that you didn’t know him, even though you clearly did.

“hello,” you greeted, overly formal as if to create distance between you two.

“yeoreum… yeoreum tells me her birthday is in may. is that true?” were the first words to tumble out of his mouth. you noticed jisoo had rounded up the kids and started to lead them out of the room.

“yeoreum, sweetheart, go stand with miss jisoo, okay? i’ll be right there.” you said as you looked down, cupping your little girls cheek sweetly and she smiled up at you.

“okay mommy!” she said, running off to walk with the class who was leaving the room.

you felt the presence of two more people walking up and you glanced to see johnny and another man, mark you thought his name was, walk up to stand awkwardly a few feet away. johnny definitely seemed to know, but mark looked clueless as to why they were there.

“is that true?” jaehyun pressed again, and you turned your full attention to him now, ignoring the other two men in your vicinity.

“yes, her birthday is may first.” you replied, voice a little sharp and you saw jaehyun visibly wince at the tone.

jaehyun didn’t even care that mark was here now, listening in. his mind was racing with so many questions and he just wanted to know the answers to them regardless of who was around.

“that’s nine months…” he trailed off then.

“yes, it is.” the same tone didn’t falter.

“i… i… is she mine?” he finally asked then, heart bracing for the answer but then you laughed and it was a cold laugh, much different from the happy ones he recalled in his dreams, and he recoiled slightly.

“you’re not on the birth certificate,” your lips were flat, turning pale from the pressure of keeping your anger at bay.

“that’s not – no, please, y/n. is she mine?” he pressed, his hands ready to beg you for an answer.

“is she your daughter? yes.” you answered him in an angry whisper. “but she’s not yours, she’s mine.” and jaehyun flinched again at how harsh your words were.

jaehyun was silent for a long moment and you scoffed, turning away from him then to go meet up with your class.

“have you told anyone?” he asked, and he wasn’t sure why he even asked that question because he knew if you had, it would have made headlines. you froze then, and he could have sworn you were visibly shaking. you turned and glared at him, such an angry look he didn’t know it was possible to feel so small from just a single expression.

“no, jaehyun, i haven’t.” you spat, your anger making your skin flush in how hard you tried to control your voice and your temper. “so don’t worry, you can go back to living your golden life without any responsibilities. i won’t be asking you for money, i won’t be coming back here, and i won’t be going to the press. but not for your sake, oh no, i couldn’t give a fuck. only for hers.” you turned and walked away, your hand stilling on the doorknob when you heard him call to you.

“no, wait! y/n that’s – that’s not what i meant, please. can – can i meet her? spend time with her?” you didn’t turn around, your hand on the knob tightening its grip for a moment, you lifted your head to stare at the ceiling and you sighed, the anger draining from you and just leaving you exhausted.

“you just did, and i think that was enough, don’t you? i don’t want you to decide the next morning that she’s not worth your time.”

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the door closed behind you as you left and all three men were stunned into silence at what had transpired. jaehyun had known you’d hate him if you saw him again, he knew that, he really did. he would have never pushed you to spend time with him after the way everything went down but now it was different.

he was a father now, or well, he had been a father the past four years and had no clue but now he was aware and he couldn’t just not try and be one. this had changed his world, how could he go about pretending that this hadn’t happened?

“dude… i am so confused right now. what the actual hell just happened?” mark finally spoke up, eyes darting between the two men standing with him. johnny didn’t look away from jaehyun to answer his question, nothing but extreme concern for his friend who looked like he had his whole world shaken up.

well, johnny thought almost comically, he did.

“i, um…” jaehyun started, eyes still not drifting away from the door you had just left from. “when we were on tours four years ago, um… johnny and i went to dinner, i don’t know if you remember? we had asked you if you wanted to go too, but you were already going with haechan and taeil.” jaehyun finally broke his trance he had on the door and turned to make eye contact with mark, who still sported the look of someone utterly bewildered. mark answered with a nod, not daring to open his mouth so he could listen to the rest of what jaehyun had to say.

“well, we went. just us two. and she was our waitress and she was, she is, so beautiful and she was flirting with me and so when she put her number on our receipt, johnny told me to go for it and… and i did. we talked for hours, and – and one thing led to another, and fuck.” jaehyun breathed out and then let out a humorless laugh at his word choice. he ran his hand through his hair roughly, the newly dyed blonde locks, tugging on them as he did so. “i left. i mean, i couldn’t have actually stayed with her, we had a show in another city and we had to leave and so i left. i tried to keep talking to her but… i stopped.”

mark blew out a hard breath at jaehyun’s explanation. “well, did you let her know? that you had to leave and that’s why?”

jaehyun shook his head, and johnny spoke up for him then. “our manager saw and lost it, he couldn’t reply to her because he was scared since it had been so long and then we left and our manager had his number changed when we got back.”

“did you still have her number though?” mark questioned, eyebrows coming together. jaehyun nodded hesitantly.

“dude, that’s so fucked. you should have explained to her then, she would have understood.” jaehyun hung his head, he was used to johnny consoling him in the assumption that he’d never have to see you again. he wasn’t used to his mistakes being so openly berated.

“poor y/n,” mark said then, turning to look at the door you had left out of. “having to raise a baby on her own like that, i don’t blame her for being as angry as she was. and then for you to ask –.”

“god, mark, yes. i know. i know i fucked up. but i have a kid… i have a daughter. i don’t want to be one of those dads, i don’t…” he trailed off, the way he felt sick dissipating, slowly being replaced with the dread of having his daughter grow up and have to tell people her dad was just absent when he knew about her now.

“then don’t.” johnny’s reply was simple. both jaehyun and mark turned to look at him. johnny shrugged as if it were easy.

“but she doesn’t –.” jaehyun went to say but johnny shook his head, the look he gave him shutting him up instantly.

“then don’t, jaehyun. you’re an adult. you made a mistake but it’s not eighteen years too late to try and fix it, just five. if chen can do this and end up just fine, you have just the same amount of chance that he does. you don’t wanna be a deadbeat dad? then don’t. easy as that. y/n isn’t going to like it at first but, she’ll come around if. you. make. an. effort.” mark was smiling at johnny’s answer, nodding along as he spoke and jaehyun stared open mouthed at him.

“you think it’ll work?”

“it doesn’t hurt to try,” mark chimed in. “plus, i saw the way she was watching you earlier, i kinda thought for a second she was going to be one of those weird stalkers but this makes so much more sense now.”

“how can i do this though? i don’t have her number or anything,” jaehyun asked, and he wanted so badly to get to know yeoreum, and to get to know you again. he wanted to see if things were that different, or if it was the years of anger building up. he couldn’t blame you at all for the things you said and for the way you reacted. he can imagine he’d do the same.

“am i gonna have to do everything myself?” johnny joked and jaehyun gave him a confused look.

“she works at the school that was just here. we have the principals contact information. therefore, we have her information. and if nothing else, we know where she works. you show up, you make a genuine effort, and you keep making an effort until she knows you’re serious. and you keep trying because that’s your daughter. you literally can’t deny her, she looks exactly like you.” jaehyun nodded, absorbing all the information that johnny had readily available in his brain. he hoped it was because he was an outsider looking in in this situation and not that jaehyun was just that dumb. maybe it was a bit of both.

“guys? come on, we have another schedule to meet in forty-five minutes,” their manager called, his head momentarily visible from the doorway. the three men made their way to exit, jaehyun’s mind reeling with what he was going to do and how he was going to do.

he had a daughter.

he was a father.

that thought alone was enough to make a grin slowly grow on his face.

“also,” mark spoke up suddenly, turning around to look at his friends. “do i need to have a talk with everyone about the importance of condoms?”

johnny snorted out a laugh, and jaehyun groaned loudly.

“yeah… i think i’m gonna at least text the dreamies. maybe ‘wrap it before you tap it’ or something like that. god, can you imagine jisung with a child?” mark’s face looked horrified, but his joke effectively broke the tense feeling jaehyun had held for the past twenty minutes and johnny laughed, clapping mark on the shoulder as he and jaehyun exited the door.

“jisung is an adult, mark. he’s a grown ass man. they don’t need ‘the talk’.”

“yes they do, they can be forty and they’re still going to be children to me!” mark yelled as he followed them out.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

jaehyun couldn’t remember the last time he had butterflies this bad since maybe his debut. his heart hadn’t stopped racing since johnny handed him a slip of paper discreetly at practice later that night, and when jaehyun unfolded the paper he saw an address and a phone number scrawled in small letters.

“maybe go to her work, instead of calling first.” johnny had whispered to him rather conspicuously in the far corner of the room.

“wouldn’t it be better to give her a heads up though? i don’t want to ruin this before i even really get the chance to get to know yeoreum.” jaehyun said, the desperation for this to work out evident on his face. he wasn’t sure when he had ever wanted something so badly, but his thoughts had been consumed by this little girl that he had no idea existed until twelve hours ago.

“sure, it might seem a little creepy but this way she can physically see you’re serious and won’t block you immediately out of spite,” johnny shrugged at his friend. “i know i'd block you.”

jaehyun gave him a deadpan look, “that’s very comforting, thanks.”

a sudden pair of arms throwing themselves around jaehyun’s shoulders made his eyes grow wide but seeing johnny unconcerned made him relax a little.

“so who is blocking jaehyun hyung immediately?” haechan asked from over jaehyun’s shoulder.

jaehyun fished for a response, trying to think of an answer and johnny beat him to it with the most basic of answers.

“your mom.” johnny said, a wide grin growing on his face at the offended look on haechan’s face that jaehyun couldn’t see.

“you better not be texting my mom!” haechan argued, voice rising an octave directly in jaehyun’s ear making the man wince sharply. “she’s married and i don’t want a step-dad this late in my life.”

johnny pushed away from the wall and jaehyun was thankful for johnny’s distraction, because as he walked away haechan moved to follow him, arguing with the taller man even if it started out as a joke.

this gave jaehyun the time to stare down at the folded piece of paper that had been crumpled in his hand, he memorized the number on it like the paper would disintegrate if he didn’t and as he moved on to the address he attempted to formulate a plan.

the plan may have been half-assed in hindsight, jaehyun realized as he stood out in front of the pre-school you worked at, staying out of sight of any passerby who may recognize him. he was sure he wouldn’t be noticed that easily as his hood was up, mask secured over his nose but he was so nervous of someone saying something to ruin his one shot at getting you to listen to him.

he distracted himself with scrolling through his phone, flipping between different social medias while he waited, and his heart skipped a beat when he heard your voice calling a goodbye to your coworkers as you exited the building.

“mommy, can we go get some ice cream? i got a green smiley on my report today from miss jisoo, you know i was good today!” he heard yeoreum ask cutely, and you turned the corner to walk in his direction and he watched as you looked down at her. you held her hand and your smile was so gentle he couldn’t help but get lost in it for a moment.

you were going to respond but you noticed his presence at that moment, looking up and staring harshly at him, he could see you bristle. you didn’t immediately recognize him, jaehyun noticed with the way you tugged yeoreum to stand behind you and jaehyun raised his hands in surrender, tugging his mask down so you could see his face and you released a breath, relaxing instantly.

“mister jaehyun!” yeoreum cheered from behind you, bouncing forward with her hands holding on to the straps of her little yellow backpack. jaehyun crouched to be level with her, his elbows resting on his knees and his dimpled smile was an exact replica of hers.

“hi yeoreum, i heard you say you were good today in school. if your mommy is okay with it, do you think i get you that ice cream you wanted?” jaehyun asked the little girl, but his eyes were looking up at you and your mouth was pressed in a firm line. yeoreum whirled on the spot to look up at you.

“oh please, mommy? mister jaehyun will pay for it so it’s free!” yeoreum pleaded, adding information that wasn’t exactly given yet and jaehyun couldn’t help but laugh at that detail. you clearly debated on it for a moment, but the hopeful look on your daughters face was already giving you an answer.

“sure, sweetie.” you said softly, eyes cutting up to glance at jaehyun, trying to figure out what he was getting at. yeoreum pulled you by the hand, and then she boldly grabbed jaehyun’s hand as well, leading the way to the convenience store you often made stops to on the way home from school.

you didn’t say a word as you walked, jaehyun keeping a conversation going with yeoreum, asking her about the things in school she liked and it went on like that for a few minutes until you entered the store and you greeted the elderly woman who ran it politely. yeoreum darted to the ice cream section and you finally had a moment without her present.

“what are you trying to do here, jaehyun?” you asked coldly, and his smile never wavered, his mood too high to allow it to come down.

“i’m trying to get to know my daughter that i didn’t know existed until yesterday.” he answered you, his voice hushed as to keep the store owner from eavesdropping, but you didn’t detect any obvious lies in his statement.

“i told you –.” you started, and he cut you off.

“i know what you said, believe me. i heard you loud and clear, but please y/n,” and your eyes widened at the sincerity in his voice, he was seconds away from begging dramatically. “please just give me one chance. i want to be in her life, i want to be there for her.”

yeoreum skipped over, holding three ice cream bars in her arms.

“look mommy, i got your favorite. and mister jaehyun, i got you my favorite. you’ll like it because it’s the best!” she said with such confidence that jaehyun chuckled at her as she walked right up to the counter.

“well you’re in luck because that just so happens to be my favorite, too.” jaehyun offered and the girl beamed at him.

“mommy likes this flavor,” she pointed to the only one that was different as the elderly woman scanned the three items. she motioned for him to come to her level, and when he bent down she cupped her hands cutely to whisper in jaehyun’s ear. “and don’t tell her but it’s really yucky.”

the more time jaehyun spent around this little girl the more he felt himself getting wrapped around her finger. he brought a finger to his lips conspiratorially and he turned to make eye contact with you and your eyebrows raised.

“hey, what’s with the secrets?” you frowned in confusion, head tilting slightly and at the motion jaehyun felt his heart skip a beat. he recalled the same exact motion five years ago, and he had to swallow hard to pull himself out of the memory.

“oh, nothing. yeoreum just told me a funny joke.” he answered, giving yeoreum a wink and she giggled at the secret that they now had, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she laughed.

“hmmm,” you responded, accepting the ice cream bars and thanking the woman as you exited. the park was only a short distance away and that’s where you headed, sitting down on a bench as you opened yeoreum’s ice cream and she dove in immediately.

you allowed them to talk easily, and you felt your resolve slowly chipping away with every smile they shared with each other. you recalled one of the many conversations you had had with friends, one most recently being your coworker and friend jisoo. she had suggested for the umpteenth time that you should reach out to the father and give him the option to be in yeoreum’s life.

“i don’t want him to get tired of her, it would be devastating for her, and me too.” you had argued then and jisoo’s look was unamused.

“you haven’t even given him the chance, you have no clue if he’d even do that. you can’t make that assumption, time changes people.”

you were realizing she was right as you watched her giggle over him dripping ice cream on his shoes, yeoreum commenting how it’s not that hard to not be messy and jaehyun laughed at her disappointed sigh.

you had made up your mind by then, the ice cream finished and you noticed the time was getting a little late, knowing you’d have to get her ready for bed.

“come on, ‘reum. we gotta get ready for bed soon.” you said softly, interrupting their conversation and yeoreum nodded, hopping off of the bench she sat on with jaehyun. she walked over to stand beside you but she turned to jaehyun.

“mister jaehyun, will i see you again?” she asked and her voice was so hopeful that jaehyun looked to you for an answer.

“one chance,” you mouthed to him seriously, holding up one finger to emphasize your point over yeoreum’s head and jaehyun’s eyes shone with relief as he made eye contact with yeoreum.

“i’d love to, i’ll come see you anytime.” jaehyun nodded and yeoreum clapped excitedly, turning to look at you as she did so and you couldn’t help the answering smile that crossed your face. you took her small hand in yours and you began to walk in the direction of your home and she paused, turning around and waving enthusiastically goodbye to jaehyun who was still seated on the wooden park bench.

“see you soon, mister jaehyun!” she called and then she was pulling you away; jaehyun watching you both leave and he felt at peace knowing this plan went so much better than he could have ever hoped it would.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

you had just put yeoruem to sleep in her little princess bed, she had talked nonstop the entire way home, all through dinner, and then during her bath until you finally got her to sleep, about mister jaehyun.

the idea of her getting to know him brought on two strong emotions and they teetered back and forth in your mind, an eerily well-balanced scale.

on one hand, you were excited for her to get to know her father, she deserved to have both parents who loved her.

on the other hand, you were terrified of how this would play out fully. would he leave once people found out? would he pretend she didn’t exist?

your thoughts ran in circles over and over, and you didn’t get anywhere productive. the only thing you had settled on was that until you knew for sure where this would go, you would make sure jaehyun wouldn’t mention a word of being her dad.

you didn’t want to have to pick up the pieces of her small heart if he shattered it.

your phone dinged and it pulled you out of your thoughts, you paused the show you had barely been paying attention to so you could focus.

9:31 pm unknown: hello… do you have plans tomorrow?

9:32 pm you: depends on who’s asking...?

9:33 pm unknown: oh, yeah my bad. this is jaehyun, johnny got me your number from your boss

9:34 pm you: ok… that’s not weird at all… but no. no plans besides work and yeoruem. why?

9:35 pm he who must not be named 💀:  how do you feel about coming over? i can cook for you both, or maybe order pizza. whatever yeoreum wants to eat haha

9:37 pm you: she’s not picky, but i guess i won’t mind. will your members mind?

9:38 pm he who must not be named 💀: ah, right. well, see i’m telling them tomorrow so they won’t really have a choice.

9:40 pm you: … don’t make this weird for us, jaehyun.

9:42 pm he who must not be named 💀: i’m not! i won’t, i’ll send someone for you tomorrow at 6?

9:47 pm you: we can get there, just give me the address and i’ll see you then

9:48 pm he who must not be named 💀: [current location]

you audibly sighed, staring at the phone showing the address, you clicked it to see that he didn’t live too far from you and you just shook your head, you were going to leave it at that, but your thought from earlier hit you again and you typed a response.

9:55 pm you: i have a request for you

10:01 pm he who must not be named 💀: ask

10:02 pm you: i’m not going to keep you from getting to know her, because it makes her happy and she deserves that. but i don’t want you to mention anything to her about you being her dad

10:05 pm he who must not be named 💀: and that’s because…?

10:06 pm you: i just wanna be sure. i’d rather you be some cool man she spent time with if you decide differently

10:07 pm he who must not be named 💀: okay and when you see that i’m not gonna ghost my own daughter, is there a statute of limitations on this or what?

10:08 pm you: i’ll let you know

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

jaehyun paced back and forth in the living room, he hadn’t heard from you since you assured him you’d be coming by at 6 like agreed. he had went a little overboard on the pizza, considering there were now five different boxes on the counter and he may have went on a shopping spree at a small children’s toy store.

now all eight of his members sat in different spots in the too large living room as he walked back and forth, stopping to check on his phone and then once he saw there wasn’t a notification from you, he went back to his path he had made.

“you’re gonna wear a hole through the floor,” johnny deadpanned and jaehyun ignored him.

“hyung?” it was haechan this time trying to get jaehyun to stop moving and jaehyun did, looking up to see what the youngest wanted.

“this isn’t your first time meeting her, right?” haechan seemed genuinely confused.

“no, this is the second, technically third time now.” he answered, forgetting about his phone in his pocket for a moment.

“okay, then why are you freaking out?” haechan asked, resting his chin in his palm.

“well…” jaehyun was at a brief loss for words. “y/n is unsure about me being around her already, so i guess i’m worried she’s going to… stop.”

“stop what?” taeyong asked from the other side of the room and jaehyun turned on the spot to face him.

“stop letting me see her, stop responding to me, just, stop altogether.” jaehyun looked crestfallen as he waved his hands around but a snort from his left made him glare at yuta.

“what? like you did to her?” yuta smirked at the stressed man, and jaehyun threw his arms up, throwing his head back as he stared at the ceiling for a long moment.

he hadn’t expected this kind of reaction at all when he called a group meeting in the living room hours earlier; he had told mark and johnny he planned to tell everyone because he had wanted you and yeoreum to come to the house and they had only nodded and helped him gather everyone. mark and johnny purposely sat on the couch in the corner of the room so they could watch it all unfold.

jaehyun had started the whole thing by clearing his throat three times before he even opened his mouth.

“i-,” he began but yuta narrowed his eyes at him and twisted his lips for a second.

“you got some girl pregnant, didn’t you?” his question was so blunt it took everyone off guard, mark almost falling out of his seat on the couch entirely. haechan, who sat on the arm of yuta’s chair, shoved his shoulder roughly. jaehyun, however, was stunned into silence, mouth agape and yuta laughed at his reaction.

“jaehyun, he’s joking. now why did you call us all here?” taeyong said, shooting a stern look at yuta before turning his full attention to the man who stood in the center of the room. keeping the peace like he always did, but jaehyun was so much more nervous now after yuta’s comment, regardless of how correct it was.

“okay, so,” jaehyun began and went through the entire story again. something he had kept to himself all these years, and he was finally letting everyone in on his tiny, but impactful, moment of freedom he had with you.

“and so when we filmed our content for the youtube segment, the one with kids, you know?” and when everyone nodded, all but three mouths were hanging in stunned silence. “this little girl was at my table, and she was adorable and smart and highly independent but like, some kids are like that. until she pointed out her mother to me, and –.”

jungwoo gasped dramatically, leaning so far forward in his chair as he listened to jaehyun that he was practically on the floor. “no fucking way!”

“yes, way.” mark answered for him, and jaehyun continued.

“y/n, yeah. y/n was her mother, and yeoreum was born exactly nine months after, and yeah. i… i have a daughter that i had no clue existed but i want to be her dad, i haven’t wanted something this bad since we debuted, and… yeah.”

“okay… okay…” taeyong repeated, seemingly in shock as he processed everything that was just said.

“okay?” jaehyun asked, wanting someone to say something.

“okay.” taeyong replied, making eye contact with him. “well, we’re not going to let you be a shitty father.”

“anymore.” haechan said under his breath and yuta snickered with him.

“i had no clue!” jaehyun argued in defense of himself.

“how do you even know she’s actually yours?” taeil asked, his posture was relaxed in his chair, recovering from the shock of the news more quickly than the others had.

“she -.” he started but doyoung butted in then.

“how do you know she’s not using you as a way to get money? she could have slept with someone else.” doyoung seemed even less convinced than taeil was.

“oh no, wait til you see her,” mark said from his spot in the room. “he can’t deny her even if he tried.”

“what? i won’t believe it until i see the test results.” doyoung said, and taeil nodded.

“she hasn’t asked me for anything,” jaehyun argued, feeling a little defensive over you then.

“yet.” taeil murmured, and johnny chose then to speak up.

“you weren’t there in the room, neither of you. she didn’t want anything to do with jaehyun, and she very, very clearly stated that she didn’t even want him around her.”

“and she asked me to refrain from even mentioning that i was her dad.” jaehyun tacked on, and taeil didn’t seem convinced nor did doyoung. silence stretched on for a moment.

“so when do we get to meet yeoreum?” haechan asked then, and jaehyun checked his watch.

“in about three hours,” he replied and everyone jumped as if they had been startled.

“what?!” came at him from all directions of the room.

“nothing in here is childproof!” taeyong exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

“she’s five, not two, she’s not going to go stick her finger in light sockets,” mark chuckled and taeyong relaxed slightly.

“she’s four, but yeah, same thing applies,” johnny corrected him and then silence fell over the room again.

“i will say, i can’t blame y/n,” yuta spoke up then, his eyes trained on the floor for a long moment. “if i were her, i wouldn’t have even given you the option. she’s a lot more forgiving than i would be if you knocked me up, ghosted me and then suddenly by a coincidence showed up again.”

“well that’s because you’re a scorpio,” jungwoo said. “and it feels kinda like fate to me.”

“that’s exactly what i said!” mark laughed, pointing at jungwoo animatedly.

and the conversation carried on like that up until he started pacing, jaehyun had been grateful that they all, well almost all, took it in stride and were supportive. but the jabs from yuta were making him even more anxious, and no matter how many times taeyong glared at yuta and told him to shut up, he couldn’t relax.

and then his phone buzzed in his hand.

6:15 pm pizza hut: um, sorry we’re a bit late, the train was delayed but uh… security guy won’t let us in

“shit,” jaehyun whispered, and he was halfway towards the door when your next text came through.

6:16 pm pizza hut: and it’s raining, so we can go home it’s not a big deal

his panic he felt while pacing came back full force and taeyong called to him.

“what’s going on?”

“security guard won’t let her in,” jaehyun rambled quickly.

“that’s all?” he replied, and taeyong pulled out his phone, pressed a few buttons on the screen and had his phone to his ear in seconds.

“hi, mr. choi? yes, can you please escort our guests to the elevators. yes, we were expecting her. no, don’t leave them out in the rain any longer. yes… thank you. have a goodnight.”

taeyong hung up the phone, and gestured to the door, “she’s in the elevator on their way up.”

jaehyun exhaled deeply, for the first time since he woke up that morning. and while he could breathe easily, the entire room held their breath at the sound of a gentle knock against the door.

jaehyun all but lunged at the door and opened it wide. the other eight men in the living room didn’t move a muscle.

“mister jaehyun!” yeoreum squealed excitedly when she saw him filling the entrance and their smiles were exact replicas of each other and jaehyun gestured you both inside.

“yeoreum, shoes baby.” you said softly, and the members had yet to see any faces, but smiles broke out on their faces as they heard a quick, “right! sorry mommy!”

jaehyun led you both out of the foyer and into the living room and you froze when you saw eight men staring at you both when you entered the room. you had prepared for this, expecting it to be awkward but being this… intense wasn’t exactly how you pictured it.  

yeoreum stepped in between you and jaehyun and you looked down to see her bow to the room.

“hello, my name is yeoreum and i’m four years old.” and you peeked up to see the intense stares break out into wide grins.

yeoreum stood up straight and then tugged on your pants.

“mommy, you said it’s rude to not introduce yourself to people who you don’t know.” she said it so seriously, but you and several others in the room chuckled at her respect for manners. at least she paid attention to you when you spoke.

you didn’t bow as yeoreum had, simply dipping your head as you introduced yourself.

“happy?” you said to yeoreum, poking her in the nose and she giggled in response. you heard faint gasps from deeper in the room but you ignored it as your daughter stared into the room and the men must have realized that her comment applied to them as well.

the first one to cross the room was a face you faintly recognized. he knelt down to be on her level and his smile was gentle.

“hi yeoreum, i’m mister jaehyun’s friend. my name is taeil.” and yeoreum nodded, and she smiled at every one who introduced themselves to her and you. she recognized johnny and even gave mark a high five. the last one was haechan, and he was the most energetic of all to meet her.

“hi!” he chirped to her, and she parroted back to him the same exact way, and he continued, his voice filled with a joking kind of pride. “my name is haechan, and i’m the coolest one here.”

“is that why your hair is blue?” yeoreum asked, tilting her head to the side cutely.

“yep, only the coolest have blue hair.” he replied, shaking his head playfully and yeoreum’s laugh filled the room again.

“also, do you wanna see all the cool stuff mister jaehyun got you?” haechan asked, and finally gestured to the couch that held different plushies and toys that the older lady at the shop had suggested for kids her age. yeoreum stared at all the toys then turned around to stare up at jaehyun.

“all of that is mine?” and even you were in shock and the sheer amount of toys piled on the couch.

“yep, all yours.” jaehyun replied, crouching down to be on the same level as yeoreum and haechan.

“but that’s… so much.” she whispered loudly, peeking again at all the toys.

“if you don’t like them all that’s okay, i just wanted to get you something,” his smile was gentle and reassuring. she looked at you for permission and when you nodded at her, she went to the couch and looked at all the plushies. she looked at them, and then at everyone in the room, then back at the toys staring intently.

and one by one, she pulled a different stuffed animal from the pile and handed it to each man in the room. she started by giving haechan a blue teddy bear, and continued on until every grown man was holding a small soft plushie, and she beamed with happiness.

you knew they couldn’t say no and jaehyun could see their wariness melting with each toy she gave. and even though he knew he probably had no right to feel it, he felt a sense of pride in her generosity and he knew she could have only learned that from you. he was the last one to receive a toy and it was a fluffy orange cat.

“thank you, yeoreum. that’s very sweet of you.” he told her sincerely and she blinked at him as if it weren’t something out of the ordinary.

“there’s a lot to share,” she replied and then she remembered something and it lit up her entire face, her voice raising in her excitement. “mommy said you got pizza!”

“yep,” he answered her question that wasn’t a question. “i didn’t know which kind you liked so you have a lot of choices.”

yeoreum picked the same pizza to eat that jaehyun had, which didn’t go unnoticed by everyone in the room as he was the only one to actually like pineapple on pizza. she had made herself at home easily, not missing a beat to pull half of the men into the living room to play with her and the toys jaehyun had gotten for her.

you had been there for a total of thirty minutes before you had been made to feel somewhat welcome. you enjoyed watching the members spend time with yeoreum, as she didn’t have many men in her life to really associate with, and the boys in her class didn’t really count.

you had to bite back a smile at the conversation you had overhead moments before.

“yeoreum is a pretty name, it’s unique too.” mark said, sitting cross-legged where she had instructed him to sit.

“thank you, mommy said she did it so it would be easy because my english name is summer.” yeoreum replied somewhat distractedly in english, causing all eyes to blink slowly at the sudden change in language.

“but she was born in may?” jaehyun looked at you, and you shrugged.

“i was on drugs and in pain, i at least had the right idea.” which caused a few laughs to echo around the room.

after that, you seemed to be fairly content with just observing. you leaned against the kitchen counter, chewing slowly on a piece of pizza as you watched her try to win a tickle fight with mark and succeeding with the way his laughter didn’t come out as forced.

you didn’t speak much with the other members, mostly enjoying being a presence in the room, that is until you felt a body move close to your side and you turned to face the new person, remembering his name was doyoung. when he didn’t say anything to you, you turned away and went back to watching how the tickle fight was absolutely being lost by mark then.

“i have reservations about this,” doyoung said to you then, his voice hardly above a whisper.

you turned again to face him but he looked forward, eyes trained on the guys sitting around enjoying the little girls antics. realizing he wasn’t going to face you for this conversation you went back to your previous position, this time bringing the pizza to your mouth again.

“and?” you asked him, voice matching his tone and doyoung shifted forward to rest his forearms against the counter. he waited until your mouth was full of pizza before he spoke again.

“and jaehyun’s so excited about this, he went on and on about it and he doesn’t even know if she’s actually his.” doyoung’s blunt words made you defensive, even though you had expected something like this, it still made you react, but doyoung continued before you could swallow.

“i think he needs to get a dna test before he gets too attached.” doyoung said, finally turning to face you and you narrowed your eyes at him as he did so.

“what? you think i’m lying?” you said through gritted teeth, but doyoung’s stance didn’t change.

“i’m not going to judge you, i don’t know anything about you. i’m just trying to protect one of my best friends. especially if you decide to rip this whole ‘being a father’ thing out from under him.”

“exactly, you don’t know anything about me.” you said shortly, your temper’s fuse quickly reaching its end. you pushed yourself away from the counter then before you continued. “and there’s nothing to protect him from, i don’t want anything from him. he tracked me down after i told him to leave me alone. he asked to see her, not me. we will be just as we were before he made his grand appearance, should he decide the father life isn’t for him.”

doyoung searched your face while you spoke, but you abruptly changed the conversation when you asked him where the bathroom was. doyoung gestured down the hall and watched as you left, when the shadows in the hall swallowed you he turned his attention back to watch the scene unfold.

haechan and mark were getting to be children again as they played some sort of mock game of house with yeoreum, using the plushies she had gifted them.

jaehyun was sitting next to her, his back against the couch as she made him in charge of holding the rest of the plushies, doyoung heard her mention that he was the house and so he had to be really, really still.

“where’s your dad?” haechan asked, his voice exaggeratingly deep for his character his bear was playing.

“i don’t have one,” yeoreum said, and she moved her plushie away from haechan’s but every man in the room froze. doyoung’s eyes darted to jaehyun’s face to judge his face, but he couldn’t quite read it.

“wh-what do you mean, yeo?” mark asked using his little lion to carry on the game for her.

“mommy said daddy is a really busy man,” she said matter-of-factly, she didn’t notice how all the eyes in the room were trained on her, and how the air seemed to still in preparation for her answer. “she said he’s a busy business man who flies all over the world and she said that a lot of daddies and mommies do that and that it’s okay!”

she was still happy as she spoke, still involved in her game of house she had roped them into playing with her.

“it really is okay,” mark said softly, forgetting his role for a moment.

“yep! it’s super okay because my mommy is really strong and she got so strong so she could take care of me all by herself.” yeoreum’s tiny body puffed up in all the pride a four year old could muster.

“but don’t you miss your dad?” haechan’s bear asked yeoreum’s little white fluffy bear.

“well yeah, all the other kids dads come and pick them up from school but mommy says that just because my daddy has a lot of stuff he has to do first, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love me.” and then, for the first time, yeoreum’s voice became a bit quieter. “i don’t know my daddy, but i hope mommy’s right.”  

doyoung’s eyes had danced back and forth between her and jaehyun, noticing the more she spoke, the more jaehyun’s face seemed to fall and it wasn’t long before doyoung though he saw the man tearing up.

“of course your mommy’s right, ‘reum,” jaehyun said softly behind her. she twisted around in her spot on the floor, looking up at him and she tilted her head at him when she saw his tears spill over, confused on why he was so sad. she shuffled forward to get closer to him and she frowned, bringing her arms to wrap around his neck tightly and jaehyun felt the tears hit him harder and he didn’t even care that everyone else in the room was witnessing this. his arms wrapped tightly around her little body, and he used his palm to try and wipe away some of the tears from his cheek.

“mommy said it’s okay to cry, and that hugs are a good bandaid,” yeoreum said, voice taking a knowing tone.

jaehyun nodded against her head, his eyes drifting to the hallway where he could see you standing there. your expression was unreadable to him, but your lips were pursed tightly.

 “your mommy is right,” he repeated again, pulling her small hands away from his face then. “about the hugs and that your daddy was really busy but he definitely loves you.”

“do you know him?” she asked, pulling away from his neck to look at him earnestly, and jaehyun’s eyes crinkled at the edges, pulling away from your form in the hallway to look at his daughter again.

“i do, yeah,” jaheyun answered, “and he missed you so much.”

“can you tell him i miss him too? can you tell him that he can come pick me up from school?” she said excitedly and you chose that moment to interrupt. you couldn’t be sure where the rest of the conversation was going, you didn’t know if jaehyun would keep his word about not saying he was her dad and you could see her getting her hopes up too high, and you knew you had to be the bad guy.

“yeoruem, baby. it’s time we go home now, we have school in the morning.” you called softly, walking over to your little girl and she pouted up at you, but she didn’t argue, she just slowly got to her feet, hugging her teddy bear tightly to her chest.

“say thank you, they were very nice to play with you,” you nudged her softly and she did as she was told, genuinely happy to have been able to play with her new friends. you both started walking to the door and she turned suddenly, running to hug jaehyun once more before she left.

you saw she had whispered something to him as she pulled away and you saw jaehyun break out into a smile again.

“i will,” he said to her and with a happy nod yeoreum was back with you again.

with yeoreum’s shoes finally on, you both exited the door and were halfway to the elevator when you heard a door close and footsteps thumping towards you. you were both surprised and… not at all surprised to see jaehyun behind you, a new gleam in his eye as he tugged on his hood and put a mask into place over his nose.

“i would feel more comfortable if i took you home since it’s late.” he said nonchalantly. “i can drive us, if you want.”

“i don’t have a car seat for yeoreum,” you replied and jaehyun shrugged easily. “walking you home it is then.”

you were going to protest but yeoreum had already put her stuffed animal in your hand before grabbing your other one and one of jaehyun’s, tugging you both towards the elevator.

she had started chatting away about something you couldn’t even pay attention to, too entirely focused on the way jaehyun’s hand enveloped hers, your eyes trailing from his hand to his face and you weren’t sure what it was about it. maybe it was all the moments pulled together, primarily the past hour alone, but you felt an unmistakable skip of your heartbeat at the way he smiled down at your excited little girl.

you were too busy gazing up at jaehyun to even noticed the eight heads poking out of the doorway almost comically as they watched you three enter the elevator, being led by a headstrong four year old.

“they make a cute little family,” jungwoo mentioned, only pulling his head inside once he heard the elevator doors close; the members immediately talking animatedly about the new niece they seemed to automatically claim as their own.

no one noticed doyoung walking to his room, the tiny cup that yeoreum had used in his hand.

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it took all of three minutes into the walk home for yeoreum to yawn loudly and rub her eyes sleepily.

“did you get tired from playing with everyone?” you asked her and she nodded, all the cheerful excitement ebbing away from her slowly. you went to pick her up to carry her the rest of the way but jaehyun stopped you, eyes asking permission before he made a move and after a brief hesitation, you nodded to him with a smile.

“i got you, ‘reum, come here,” he said soothingly, picking her up and holding her close. she instantly laid her head down on his shoulder and you snorted at how quickly she closed her eyes. you cooed at how sweet she was, and jaehyun visibly glowed at how she seemed to relax with him instantly.

“you know you don’t have to do all of this,” you said to him after a few moments of yeoreum’s slow breathing. and jaehyun sighed deeply.

“look i know you think i’m this really shitty person who just ditched you, and i know that that’s how you must have felt but it wasn’t my intention. my manager saw our messages, you know. and even though I was still an adult then, we didn’t have nearly as much freedom as we do now. he yelled at me for an hour about being reckless with my career and all that. even though it doesn’t change anything, i didn’t do any of it on purpose or maliciously. and i’m sorry you had to do this alone.” he said, looking down at you the entire time he had been talking, wanting to see your face through his shortened explanation.

“it was really hard, at first, and i’ve been angry for awhile.” you said, voice soft and vulnerable after you thought a moment before deciding to give him honesty. “i had no clue what to tell any of my friends, and when i googled you i almost threw up, but i think that was from the pregnancy and not the news of you being famous. it made sense then to me what all had happened, but i couldn’t tell my parents the truth and so i had to say i didn’t know who the dad was. mortifying, really. my parents still haven’t spoken to me since then. and i love yeoreum more than anything, but i really… i think i hated you this whole time.” you don’t make eye contact as you confess to him a snippet of what had happened, a glimpse into how you felt.

jaehyun was stunned at all he had learned about you, he knew you probably had hated him, and he was right on that. he was horrified to learn that you really, truly had been alone through all of this. he didn’t know why but he had assumed, since he had learned of this at least, you would have had your parents to help support you, and it made his stomach turn knowing it was the opposite.

“but i don’t hate you now,” you admitted softly, looking ahead at the crosswalk sign, waiting for it to give you the okay to cross.

“oh? one day was all it took?” jaehyun asked a bit hopefully with a playful smile, his heart leaping in his chest at the statement, and he couldn’t quite place his finger on why it made him so excited to hear those words. you didn’t respond right away only rolling your eyes, and pulling a set of keys from your pocket and jaehyun realized you must be close to your place.

“but don’t get too excited, the statute has only been bumped up, not removed entirely,” you teased, and you unlocked the door that sat in the wall surrounding your house, entering the front yard that came with your house. it was small, but jaehyun noticed it was just enough for the two of you to live in and it seemed cozy.

you closed the door behind you, it automatically locking and you led the way to the front door of the house, unlocking it and kicking off your shoes. jaehyun shuffled nervously a bit, not knowing what he needed to do but toed off his shoes anyway just to be courteous.

“would you like to tuck her in?” you asked him after switching on a light in the room, and jaehyun blinked as his eyes adjusted. “if you don’t want to, that’s okay, i can.” and you reached for yeoreum but jaehyun tightened his hold on the sleeping girl.

“i can do it,” he stressed and you grinned, holding up your hands in surrender.

“okay then, ‘mister jaehyun’,” you joked, motioning for him to follow you down the hall into the room he could only assume was yeoreum’s if the little moon nightlight glowing and the soft peach paint on the wall were anything to go by.

he noticed she didn’t have an overabundance of toys, maybe a handful of plushies on her bed but he realized it was because she had a little table in the corner stacked with coloring books, crayons and markers. he could see her wanting to be an artist when she grew up, she had told him that already. as he was taking in the room, you had already folded back her blankets and you were waiting for him expectantly.

he very gently tucked yeoreum in after taking off her shoes and gave her the plushie he had gifted her and she cuddled into it immediately. it caused his heart to ache looking at her, realizing he had missed so many things. jaehyun followed you out of her room and you closed her door until it was just a crack.

“um…” jaehyun went to ask, not knowing how to really phrase the question he wanted.

“are you thirsty?” you asked him instead as you headed into your kitchen and he hovered in the entrance.

“not really, thank you, but i was wondering, if you’d be okay with it…” he trailed off, and your eyes darted to see him looking somewhat nervous.

“with what?”

“do you… maybe have pictures you could show me? or videos? i just know i’ve missed a lot and if you were okay with it, i’d like to see the moments i wasn’t there for.” your heart softened, as did your smile.

“yeah, i think i can do that for you.”

so jaehyun stayed with you until late that night, sitting at the kitchen table as you showed him pictures and videos of yeoreum. moments like her first steps, and her first words, which you were pouting when you told him wasn’t “mama”, but instead was “no”. he got to experience your laughter as yeoreum had brought a frog inside the house, and her subsequent scream as it jumped out of her hand then chased her. he got to see pictures of her and he felt like he could have been there.

should have been there.

and as he flipped through picture after picture, he noticed that his heart picked up in speed each time he came across a picture of you in it. he watched as you spoke about each picture, the excitement in the nostalgia as you flipped through each one and you explained to him what was going on.

he felt like he was back in your apartment five years ago, he felt at peace with you here.

he missed all of this, and he was going to make sure he wouldn’t miss anything else.

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New Tweet notifications for NCT 127

NCT 127 @NCTsmtown_127 [idols with kids] episode 11 with JOHNNY, JAEHYUN, and MARK

🖍️😺🍑🦁🖍️

#NCT127 #NCT127_IDOLSWITHKIDS #IDOLSWITHKIDS

@lovej43 replied to NCTsmtown_127

i can’t with jaehyun smiling at that little girl like that :(

@127valentines replied to lovej43

right??? she looks a lot like him too, so cute

@markinmiami replied to NCTsmtown_127

mark accidentally breaking his crayon ㅠㅠ the kid gave him a mean look

@bananasoutforjohn replied to NCTsmtown_127

dude looked FLABBERGASTED when the kid started crying

@myloveforjae replied to @127valentines

no ur right tho, she resembles him a lot more than just the dimples 🤨

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you knew that sm would post the video to their youtube channel, but you didn’t realize how anxious reading the comments would make you.

you weren’t aware that the video had posted until jisoo showed you that yeoreum was trending on twitter because of her interactions with jaehyun, and then you went to youtube to read the comments there and every time you read one that mentioned their resemblance it made your stomach flip uncomfortably.

you had a little under a month to prepare for that moment and yet, it still surprised you. you were just pleased that the overall theme for reactions was how cute your daughter was and that made your heart rest just a bit easier.

while reading the comments on your phone, your eyes instantly darted to the text notification that popped up.

3:43 pm he who might be named 😶‍🌫️: did you see they posted the video? everyone is commenting about how cute ‘reum is

3:44 pm you: yeah, and they’re also saying how much you look alike…

3:46 pm he who might be named 😶‍🌫️: well, she’s my daughter so i’d hope so

3:47 pm you: i don’t think you get what i mean

3:48 pm he who might be named 😶‍🌫️: you mean that she also gets her looks from you? i agree

your eyebrows rose at that comment, he had been mildly flirtatious for the past week but now it was becoming blatantly obvious.

3:50 pm you: i mean yes, but that wasn’t what i meant

3:51 pm he who might be named 😶‍🌫️: if it’s not that, then enlighten me

3:52 pm you: aren’t you concerned people will figure it out?

3:54 pm he who might be named 😶‍🌫️: i don’t think they’ll be able to figure it out from just a twenty minute video on youtube

3:55 pm he who might be named 😶‍🌫️: besides, they’d probably doubt it considering how beautiful you are

you simultaneously blushed at his very obvious flirting and sighed at his nonchalance. you were growing accustomed to jaehyun’s presence in your life, and you were finding yourself looking forward to seeing him and spending time with him. it made you feel as if you three were a family but the overwhelming dark cloud of the public finding out loomed over you and shadowed the fluttery feeling you felt in your chest when you talked to him.

you didn’t want to let this get to you but it was turning into somewhat of a fear for you, and it wasn’t really that people would find out.

it was the aftermath; the most negative version being the source of your fear.

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jaehyun stared at his phone waiting for a response from you a bit longer than he should have, but when he felt a shadow hovering to his left he quickly locked his phone. his shoulders instantly relaxed when he saw it was doyoung, but the look on doyoung’s face made jaehyun instantly concerned.

doyoung refused eye contact with him, shifting uncomfortably as he leaned against the mirrored wall of the practice room. everyone else was sat in various spots on around the room and although jaehyun didn’t mind doyoung deciding to spend his break with him, his awkward behavior made jaehyun tense.

“i’ve been putting off talking to you for a week now.” doyoung said to the ground, his arms crossing over his chest.

“what about?”

“i…” doyoung started then stopped, he waited a few seconds then began again. “look, just remember i did it to protect you, you know, just in case.”

he was purposefully being vague and jaehyun pushed off the wall, turning his body to really face doyoung. “what did you do?”

“it’s – i – when y/n came over the first time, even though you were convinced, i wasn’t. so… i had a dna test done.” doyoung’s response made jaehyun’s skin grow hot, he wasn’t why sure anger was the first emotion that bubbled up first but it came on strong enough to surprise even him.

“why would you do that?” he said from between gritted teeth. the idea that yeoreum might not be his never crossed his mind, he had been so sure from the moment he saw you near her.

he just knew.

“you didn’t know, you were just going off of y/n’s word alone. i wanted to give you proof.”

“no, you wanted to rub it in my face that she had lied. you wanted to be right.” jaehyun couldn’t hear how his voice was raising, he could only hear the blood rushing in his ears.

“you would have went your whole life possibly raising someone else’s kid if i hadn’t had the test done!” doyoung was defensive now, and he couldn’t understand why jaehyun would have just blindly believed you like he did.

“i wouldn’t have cared either way!” jaehyun hadn’t realized he had gotten closer to doyoung until a hand came to push against his chest, pulling him back and away from him.

“keep it down unless you want the whole building to know your business,” johnny said lowly to jaehyun, eyes darting to the choreographer across the room, who seemed to be mostly unaware of the situation since he had headphones on.

“he went behind my back and had a dna test done, without asking me first!” jaehyun argued back, angry eyes not leaving the apologetic ones of doyoung.

“if it makes you feel better, she’s yours.” doyoung said, guilt apparent in his face even if he was trying to maintain his stance that he had done nothing wrong.

“i knew that already!” jaehyun actually yelled that time, and he went to take a step forward – to do what he wasn’t sure but johnny’s palm held him firmly in place.

his phone choosing that moment to vibrate, pulling him away from the moment; he had an incoming call from you. he took a moment to shoot doyoung a seething glare, then took a calming breath before turning away to answer.

“hi,” he breathed, his anger slowly dissipating.

“hello,” you replied, but your voice was a bit strained and he picked up on it right away.

“everything okay?” he questioned instantly.

“yeah,” you said and he heard you pull away to speak to someone else before coming back to the phone. “my friend and coworker, jisoo? she was there that day with me, she got injured at work and i’m the only one able to take her to the hospital. will you…” another quick word to someone else. “i need you to be there to pick up yeoreum from school, please.”

jaehyun’s mind was racing thinking of his schedule for the day, he had practice for another few hours, and he told you as such.

“i know you’re busy, but this is something that comes with being a parent. you make adjustments.” you said, and your voice was panicked as you heard someone call for you, and he heard you address the doctor.

“please jae, she has a key on her backpack. you get to pick her up from school and be her dad. this is what you asked for… and what she has always wanted.”

“i’ll be there.” he answered, his mind made up before you even had started to speak. “what time does she get out for school?”

“5, thank you so much, jae. i really appreciate it.” and when someone called your name again you sounded rushed once more. “coming! bye jae, i’ll see you later.”

you hung up the phone, and even though jaehyun was still feeling angry towards doyoung, he couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face at the opportunity you gave him.

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jaehyun was thankful that the lady at the front counter seemed to be too old to stay in tune with media as she didn’t even bat an eyelash when he gave his name to her and told her that he was there to pick up yeoreum. he refrained from saying the term ‘my daughter’ aloud but your rules couldn’t stop him from thinking it.

when the lady called over the system to tell the teacher that it was time for yeoreum to go home, jaehyun leaned casually against the wall while he waited.

he wasn’t thinking about how he had lied to get out of the last few hours of practice. he wasn’t thinking about the argument yet to be resolved with doyoung.

he wasn’t thinking about the other parents coming in and seeing him, recognizing him.

all he could think about how long the minutes seemed too stretch on for yeoreum to be released from her class… and he wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t also thinking about you. specifically, the last time he saw you, which was three days before.

you had invited him over on sunday night, stating that yeoreum had asked about him and if she could one day make cookies for mister jaehyun. you had told him it was so out of the blue for her to ask that and when you had questioned her on it, her simple response was ‘if cookies makes santa come, maybe it will work for mister jaehyun too’.

you didn’t have the heart to tell her no, which led to the phone call. jaehyun was there in twenty minutes, knocking on the door to which you answered with flour splattered across your face, with a giggling four-year-old right behind you sporting flour in her hair. jaehyun’s grin was painful for his cheeks as he took in the scene, and he couldn’t help but laugh with you both before even saying hello.

“are you supposed to be wearing the ingredients?” jaehyun asked as he stepped inside your house, following you both as you made your way into the kitchen.

“mommy started it!” and you feigned a gasp, a floured hand on your chest.

“i did not!” and she giggled once more, waving her tiny hands for jaehyun to bend down so she could whisper in his ear. jaehyun’s dimples were deep as he listened to her and your thoughts straying to how handsome he was running through your mind before you even registered. jaehyun turned his head to nod excitedly with yeoreum and you narrowed your eyes at them both.

“you better have told him how you threw first,” you warned playfully.

“oh she did,” jaehyun agreed, moving slightly to the left and it didn’t click that he was suspiciously close to the bag of flour. “she also said we should be on a team.”

“wha – oh don’t you dare!” but it was too late, as jaehyun had already pinched some flour and flicked it at you, and as you stood there with a shocked look on your face and flour now decorating your hair, jaehyun and yeoreum shared a giggly high five. you crossed your arms childishly and stomped your foot, turning away from them both dramatically, taking a page directly out of your daughter’s book.

“oh no, ‘reum… we’ve made your mommy upset.” jaehyun theatrically whispered and you had to bite back a laugh.

“i know what will cheer her up!” yeoreum whispered back, and they were both suspiciously silent and then you heard feet shuffling behind you; yeoreum popping up in front of you suddenly, and then there were not one, but two sets of arms wrapping around you in a tight squeeze, yeoreum’s head resting on your stomach and you froze at the feeling of jaehyun’s cheek resting on top of your head.

you felt the heat rise up your neck and the butterflies were back; you couldn’t tell if this was part of the joke or if he meant the hug the way it felt to you but you quickly pushed that train of thought to the side, giving yourself two more seconds in the embrace of them both before you broke the moment by clearing your throat.

“so, did we still want to make mister jaehyun cookies?” yeoreum blinked up at you cutely and nodded her head, you ran your hand through her hair gently, still very aware of jaehyun at your back and you tried to ignore it but failed.

jaehyun noticed it took only five minutes of trying to cook for yeoreum to get bored and ask if she can go color instead, so it left only you and him in the kitchen, and the first few minutes were spent trying to fill the awkward silence with comments and small laughter.

you had just started to mix up the ingredients when you heard him move, his feet shuffling just a bit.

jaehyun leaned a little closer into your space, feeling his body heat on your back; his hand braced against the counter to the left of your hip and you weren’t sure if your heart raced or slowed, but all you knew was that you were hyper aware of his presence as you were minutes before when he had hugged you.

“do you need help with that?” he asked lowly, his voice near your ear and you could almost feel his breath on your cheek. you turned your head and he was as close to you as you had thought he was, and it made you take a slight step away. you knew he could see the rising blush on your cheeks and a smirk made its way to his lips.

“no, i got it,” you said, but then realized that his close proximity allowed you to get a little revenge. “i am capable, thank you very much.” it was your turn to flick flour at his face, and he only blinked at you in shock, his expression comical and you wished you could take a picture of it.

a small gasp at the entrance of the kitchen made you jump away from each other as if you had been caught doing something wrong, and you both had quickly fumbled with an excuse, neither of which had made any sense but you had seemingly gotten away with it.

the memory brought a smile to his face and that look was the first thing yeoreum saw as she walked through the door to see him waiting for her.

“mister jaehyun!” she exclaimed, running up to him and hugging him around his legs and god, he loved this little girl. when she let go, he bent down and went in for a proper hug, picking her up in the process and they left the building.

yeoreum spoke to him animatedly, telling him about her favorite part of her day and then she asked him about his favorite part, his answer being an immediate, “getting to see you, of course.” which only made her beam at him in a childlike sense of pride.

“what about mommy?” she asked innocently, and he blinked.

“well, of course you and her both are my favorite part.” yeoreum’s loud giggle made him smile but she shook her head.

“no, i mean where’s mommy?” and it dawned on him that he had told on himself to a very observant child.

“oh, she had to take her friend to the doctor. she isn’t your teacher, too?” jaehyun asked, playing it off in a way he thought was smooth enough. the question sparking another conversation about how she gets to change classrooms like she’s in real school but not a whole lot just sometimes and it’s definitely really fun, and jaehyun could only nod as she chattered away, finally arriving at the front gate to your home and yeoreum wiggled her way out of his arms so she could get her key.

“i wanna do it, mommy lets me!” and jaehyun nodded as he let her lead the way, really just letting himself enjoy being a parent solo, and after hours of dinner, bath, and then bed, he realized it was fairly exhausting and he told himself to remind you when you got home how impressive he thought you were.

jaehyun sat on the edge of her bed, she had requested him to tuck her in and he had but then she had started crying and he was on the verge of panicking.

“’reum, what’s the matter baby?” he said, taking a tip he got from you and running his hand through her hair to try and soothe her, she wasn’t hysterical but she clutched the plushie that he had gotten her tightly, big tears rolling down her cheeks as her bottom lip quivered.

“mommy always sings me a song and kisses me goodnight every night… when is she coming home?” she sniffed, and jaehyun’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. the last text update he had gotten was an hour ago when you had said that jisoo was going back for x-rays and that it shouldn’t be too much longer.

“she’ll be here soon but i can do that, too.” he offered her gently and her eyes looked a little less sad at his offer. “what song does she sing?”

“i don’t know the name,” her lip wobbled again and fresh tears sprung in her eyes.

“that’s okay,” he assured her soothingly, “can you hum it for me?”

yeoreum sniffed twice before humming the tune of a song jaehyun knew well, and it made a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. as she hummed, he did the same right along with her until he started to sing softly to her, his hand continuing the motions from before, gently moving through her hair.

“so whenever you ask me again, how i feel… please remember…” and yeoreum wasn’t humming anymore, her small voice drifting away as she watched jaehyun, completely entranced by his voice, her young mind in awe at how he knew the song her mommy would sing to her.

“my answer if you,” jaehyun continued to sing, his finger tapping on her nose gently which finally earned him a small laugh. a sound he missed, and while he was glad to be present for even the times she was upset, he preferred her happy and smiling.

yeoreum didn’t say anything for a long second, and then in a small and unsure voice asked, “mister jaehyun?”

“yes, miss yeoreum?”

“if… if my daddy doesn’t ever come back from his business trips, if he’s still too busy for me…” jaehyun’s heart broke at the mention of that, his smile slowly disappearing from his face. “do you think you could be my daddy instead?”

“oh yeoreum…” he started and he saw a bit of panic welling up in her eyes, and she scrambled to sit up.

“i’m really good, i promise! mommy says so and santa does too, i get presents every year.” she pleaded, her eyebrows so furrowed they were nearly touching, and jaehyun’s eyes softened.

“yeoreum, sweetheart. i am y-.”

“”’reum, i’m home.” jaehyun nearly jumped at the sound of your voice, his head whipping around to find you staring at him in the doorway. he couldn’t quite place the emotion there; it wasn’t necessarily anger but you didn’t seem happy in the slightest.

“mommy!” yeoreum called, her tears forgotten at the sight of you in her room. you walked over to kneel at the edge of her bed, motioning for her to lay down again and pulling the blankets up to her chin.

“did you have fun with mister jaehyun?” you asked her, brushing her hair back away from her face. you heard everything said, and the feeling that you were letting her down sat heavy on your chest.

“i did, we had lots of fun,” she replied, finally letting out a long overdue yawn – the worry of you not being home the main thing that kept her awake.

“tell him goodnight, okay?”

“goodnight, mister jaehyun.” she murmured sleepily and you stood up then, motioning for jaehyun to follow you as you closed her door behind you. you moved away from the door, heading into the kitchen and jaehyun couldn’t help the feeling that he was in trouble somehow.

“i thought we had a deal,” you finally said, turning to face him as you leaned against the kitchen counter.

“what?” jaehyun was a little confused, he was trying to figure out where this conversation was going before it even started.

“the statute of limitations weren’t up yet, i still don’t want you to tell her you’re her father.” your voice was stiff, and you didn’t make eye contact with him as you spoke.

“i wasn’t going to…”

“i heard everything, jae. she already loves you so much, and if you decide to walk out it’s going to wreck her and i’ll be left to try and fix what you broke.”

jaehyun wasn’t sure why, but he felt the telltale sign of his anger rising. he felt it on the back of his neck, and the way his teeth ground together.

“i thought i made myself clear that i wasn’t going anywhere.” his voice wasn’t curt, but you still heard the tone.

“you did, but that’s when things are relatively easy. who’s to say-?” and he cut you off.

“say about what? what could anyone possibly say to make me leave?”

“me, when i say i think it’s best you kept your distance for a little while. you’ve made things complicated for me.” and to say jaehyun was shocked speechless would be an understatement.

“how?” was his only response, he was biting on the inside of his cheek to keep from getting really upset.

“we were fine,” you started, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “we were fine on our own, and then you waltzed in our lives and shook everything up and now i don’t know which way is up and which way is down. i think you’re confusing yeoreum… and me and… and i don’t know how to feel about any of this.”

“this was fate and you know it.” and your answering scoff only spurned him on. “i don’t believe in coincidences and neither did you last i checked. you moved here so she could learn about her heritage, and of the millions of people in korea you still manage to run into me, she still found me.”

“yes… well we had our life just fine on our own – just me and yeoreum. what right-.”

“i’m her father!” his voice raised just enough to make you finally look at him, to see the hurt in his eyes as he spoke. “that’s what right. you’ve given me this… this incredible gift, something i didn’t even know i needed until a month ago and i refuse to let you take it away from me. i thought you and i were getting closer, but if you want to continue to hate me that’s fine, but i want to be in my daughter’s life and you can’t keep me from doing that.”

his eyes were glassy, as if he was keeping himself from crying over the situation as a whole and his breathing was heavy. you broke the eye contact you held with him, instead focusing on the rise and fall of his chest.

his response was answer enough for you.

answer for this entire thing you had been fighting off for the past month while you got to know each other again, while you got to spend time together as a family. you saw yeoreum smiling and laughing, jaehyun usually the cause of it. their dimples coming out in the exact same manner, and it was like within the month you felt your heart warm up in a way it hadn’t in years at the idea of it, the idea of him.

you realized you were happier around him too, and although you really were trying to protect yeoreum, you realized in that moment that you were also trying to protect yourself.

and that wasn’t fair to yeoreum, jaehyun… or you.

“i don’t.” you said softly, finally giving him a response he found cryptic.

“what?”

“i don’t hate you.” you clarified for him and he inhaled deeply.

“then why are you acting as if i’m an asshole when i’ve done nothing but try and prove to you that i’m not… that i care about you both.” his hands were thrown out at his sides in exasperation, finally realizing that it wasn’t anger he was feeling but fear.

“because it won’t just be her heart you’ll break if you decide to leave.” you gnawed at your lip, unsure of how he was going to respond to this.

“what do you…” he asked and his voice was softer now, taking a small step towards you.

“you’ll be breaking mine, too.” you said, and you finally made eye contact with him again and he could see it there.

the fear.

of rejection, of being hurt, of being left alone after becoming so quickly used to having another person be there with you. he understood then.

he closed the gap in a few steps, and he stood in front of you, his hands hesitating before he allowed them to rest on your arms.

“i know… i know this hasn’t been easy for you. that you’ve had terrible things said to you because i wasn’t there, and i can’t guarantee that when people find out, more things won’t be said. but the difference is that i’m here now. i’m here and i’m not going anywhere, and…” he trailed off for a moment, eyes searching yours before he finally continued. “i know there were no expectations five years ago, but i have them now. i know you feel this too, i know you do. and if i have to convince you every day that i’m not going anywhere, then i will.”

you didn’t realize you had started to cry until your tears started to burn your eyes and you wiped them away with a watery laugh.

“oh come on, i can’t have both my girls crying in one night.” and jaehyun swore his heart stopped when you looked up at him like that.

“then don’t say sweet things to make me cry.” you said, tone a little pouty.

“well if that’s what it takes,” jaehyun shrugged easily.

“yeah but,” your sentence was then interrupted by jaehyun’s phone vibrating incessantly in his pocket. he dug it out, ready to ignore the phone call but the name that popped up made him hit accept instead. you didn’t hear any of the other side of the conversation, only jaehyun’s.

“oh, really?” followed by a, “yes, that’s true.” and then, “not to be disrespectful, but i don’t care.” his eyes then jumping back to yours when he said, “then we’ll figure it out, this is more important to me.” before saying, “okay, i’ll see you tomorrow.” and finally hung up.

“what was that about?” you asked tilting your head to the side, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“that… was everyone finding out.” he said easily and your eyebrows shot up over widened eyes, “and as you heard me say – i don’t care. we’ll figure it out one way or another, all i know is that you, yeoreum… this family is far more impor – mmph!” and you didn’t give him the chance to finish his sentence because you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him.

the action familiar to you, recalling the way jaehyun had done the same all those years ago. jaehyun wasn’t one to miss an opportunity and so he kissed you back, his arms wrapping around you tightly and pulling you closer to him. the moment was one he had been wanting for weeks now, ever since he sat with you at the table and you showed him all the pictures.

and he didn’t waste a second, kissing you until you were both breathless and you finally pulled away.

“i’m sorry, i just…” you trailed off, finally seeing that happiness in his eyes again.

“don’t be, because i’m about to do it again.” he said with a smirk before closing the distance once more, this kiss much sweeter than the first. his palm flat against the small of your back, his other hand resting on your hip and everything about that moment with him felt right.

his lips, his warmth, his smile that you felt against your lips that fully interrupted the kiss.

“what is it?” you huffed playfully, and his smile turned into a small laugh.

“i just remembered something.” he said, his dimples appearing then.

“and that is…?”

“try again, huh?” he joked before planting a quick kiss to your lips, muffling your groan.

“it was the only thing that would stop her from crying as a baby.” you defended weakly.

“that’s my girl.” he said, nothing but pride in his voice, and you smacked him gently on the chest.

“our girl.” you corrected him easily, and the smile that lit up his face was breathtaking.

“our girl.”

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

[b side: epilogue]

a year or so later…

a family outing is what jaehyun had called it when he woke up one morning asking if you wanted to go to the gardens that had a christmas lights display and you didn’t even get the chance to decide because yeoreum overheard as she stood at your doorway and was immediately excited.

“that settles that then,” you teased.

“as if you ever had a choice,” he said to you with a wink, calling a good morning to the sleepy girl who jumped into bed and cuddled with you both.

your little family had a lazy day in bed before you all finally rolled out of it to get ready for the lights, making sure that yeoreum – who was adamant that she didn’t need help picking out clothes anymore – bundled herself up in her puffy jacket, you pocketing her gloves that she had forgotten. jaehyun purposefully matched jackets with her, and you sighed knowing you had to do the same.

“we look like a little marshmallow family,” you commented as you walked through the gardens, the lights reflecting off of your face.

“yes but a cute one,” jaehyun retorted, teasing being his way of flirting and something you noticed never slacked off even after you had officially started dating him.

you hadn’t realized you had walked ahead of them and then you noticed neither of them were right behind you, you turned around to see jaehyun smiling brightly as he kneeled to whisper suspiciously to yeoreum, something that had been their thing ever since the beginning.

“really?!” yeoreum gasped aloud, eyes pleading with him to not be joking. you narrowed your eyes at them, desperately hoping jaehyun wasn’t telling her they would get the hamster she had been begging for. when jaehyun nodded in answer to her question, her entire body radiated with excitement and then his eyes pointedly looked from her to you a few times and yeoreum giggled.

she turned on her heel and skipped over to you, motioning for you to bend down so she could whisper in your ear – letting you in on the secret. as she whispered, your eyes widened slightly, and they softened as they easily found his.

you could feel yours slowly starting to tear up and you held them at bay for as long as you could. instead of saying anything aloud, you kept with the spirit of their game, their thing they shared, you whispered to yeoreum. you figured she’d skip back over to jaehyun to give him your response but instead she jumped up and down, turning to face jaehyun.

“she said yes!” she exclaimed loudly with her hands cupping around her mouth, squealing with enthusiasm. looking at jaehyun’s soft smile, eyes full of love for you and for the little girl you shared, the answer was obvious.

as if you could have possibly said no.

#gimmehyuck #masterlist #nct127 masterlist #nct 127 #nct 127 au #nct #nct 127 fic #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun au #jaehyun fic #jaehyun x yn #jaehyun x you #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #i wrote out a bit of my daddy issues with this one lmao

[jungkookschin]

demigod trials: our starlit bond - love you from tartarus | 3.5

synopsis: mark lee, the clumsy t.a for forging foundations: introduction to the forge, takes you on a magical pegasus ride, and you fall in love.

word count: 3k

pairing: son of hephaestus!mark x daughter of aphrodite!reader

genre: camp half blood au, percy jackson au, demigod au, friends to lovers, mark is so cute and clumsyyy

warnings: SO WHOLESOMEE, mentions of death, mentions of mark going into tartarus- this is just love, angst bc he's going to be leaving. this is definitely a whole new oc

author's note: THIS IS A WHOLE NEW OC. this is still canon to the original series, but i wanted to give a closer perspective of mark and the other characters. YES THIS IS THE SAME MARK who is the little brother of oc from the previous chapters. the next chapter will be a sonofposeidon!taehyung fic. also this was supposed to be a drabble but its kinda long

demigod trials masterlist

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

At the age of 14, you discovered a life-altering truth: your mother did not pass away during childbirth, as you had been led to believe. Instead, you learned that she is none other than the Greek goddess Aphrodite. 

For the average Camp Half-Blood attendee, 14 years old is fairly late to learn about one’s Greek origins. 

The gods promised that they would reveal themselves to their demigod children by age 13, but you guess your mom didn’t get the memo.

Joining Camp Half-Blood the summer after your freshman year in high school came along with significant drawbacks. 

You weren’t good at combat, weren’t good at strategy, and you certainly weren’t favored by the other campers.

In fact, you were disliked so much that your own siblings actively avoided you, scooting towards the far end of the Aphrodite table whenever you sat down with your magical lunch platter. 

During the first two months at Camp Half-Blood, a melancholic reality enveloped you. You sought refuge by sticking your nose in a book and studying your hours away. You wouldn’t even consider yourself to be a good student, but it became a way to make amends for sucking at everything else.

You remember meeting Mark Lee during the first day of your third month at Camp Half-Blood.

It was your first day of Forging Foundations: Intro to the Forge. To your surprise, a cyclops marched into the classroom, accidentally knocking over tables and side swiping papers off the teacher’s desk.

In Greek mythology, Cyclopes are one-eyed giants, often associated with strength and craftsmanship. They are known for their forging skills and are credited with creating powerful items for gods and heroes.

Though your teacher Argos was barely proficient in the English language, he certainly knew what he was talking about.

“Um- h-hello c-class! Welcome to Forging class! You introductory class, correct?” Argos asks, his voice deep and gruff- but it was obvious enough that Argos was a gentle giant.

None of the other Aphrodite kids even graced Argos with a response, filing their nails or checking their reflections in a mirror.

You cleared your throat. “Yes sir,” you responded, offering Argos a warm smile. His large mouth grinned, displaying his yellow and crooked teeth and his single eye softened at you, beaming that somebody actually responded to him.

 “Good!” Argos responded, straightening a stack of papers on the desk. Unfortunately, the teacher’s desk snapped in half, causing Argos to blush and his single eye to dart around the room nervously.

“So, your daddy is Hermes?” Argos asked, to which some of your siblings actually sneered.

One of your sisters scoffed. “Our mother is Aphrodite. Maybe you should get your eyes- err- or eye checked out,” to which some of your other siblings burst into cackles.

Gods, you remember feeling so horrible for poor Argos, who immediately apologized clumsily, tears welling up in his single eye.

On cue, a boy burst into the classroom, panting heavily with his hands tightly secure around his backpack straps. He was wearing jeans, converse, and a Camp Half-Blood T shirt over a white long sleeved tee. His black fringe fell into his eyes and he flicked his head back to clear his vision. 

"Sorry I was late!" he panted, resting his hands on his knees. "I was in the forge and got so caught up with something I didn't even realize I was late!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening slightly when he saw poor Argos tearing up.

"Hey big guy, something wrong?" he asked gently, brows furrowing in concern.

Argos, despite being twice as big as the boy, crushed him in a hug, and the boy's face turned red from how hard he was being squeezed.

By the gods' grace, he found it in him to pat Argos on the back while reassuring him that everything would be okay.

Argos stopped crushing the boy and redirected his attention to the class, to which the boy almost theatrically inhaled to catch his breath after almost being crushed to death.

"This is Mark!" Argos announced. "He is teacher's helper!"

Mark nodded and greeted the class. "That's right. I am the official TA, or teacher's assistant, for this class. If you don’t know me, I’m the head counselor at the Hephaestus cabin. It’s nice to meet you all." He smiled at the entire class, but for some reason, you felt shy when his eyes momentarily lingered on you, and you looked away.

"Mark gonna help me!" Argos grinned. "Argos is so happy Mark here!"

Mark smiled. “That means a lot big guy. I’ll be there whenever you need me, alright?” 

He then addressed the class. “So let’s get started with Lesson 1: Fundamental Tools of Blacksmithing. If everybody could come up to the class to pick up their notes, that would be great.”

Needless to say, the Aphrodite cabin did not give a single shit that Mark was leading the class, even though he was a slightly better teacher than Argos. Nobody said anything, their eyes still focused on their nails or mirrors.

Mark fished for something from his backpack: a hammer. He held it up, motioning with his hammer and occasionally pointing it at the class.“You guys might be Aphrodite kids, but I promise blacksmithing is super easy and fun. This class is going to be a blast.”

Your siblings clearly didn't agree, but you figured that you needed to show some sort of enthusiasm. So, whenever Mark met your eyes, you nodded like you were super engaged.

Gods, you thought Mark was the cutest boy you had ever seen. So cutely clumsy, and you couldn't help but giggle at his little mistakes.

“Oh shit, I’m still holding this,” he mumbled, making you giggle. His eyes met yours, and he crimsoned before he cleared his throat.

“"So," he began, "does anyone know what this is?" he asked, motioning towards the hammer.

Crickets.

You raised your hand. "Umm... is it a hammer?" you sheepishly responded, to which Mark beamed and nodded his head.

"That's right," he encouraged, his eyes scanning over your name tag. "Y/N," he finished, flashing you a grin.

“This is your trusty companion, the hammer. Grip it firmly, but not too tight. Precision is key in our craft. Watch closely as I shape this piece of celestial bronze. Every strike has purpose, every movement deliberate.”

Argos passed out hammers to the class, nearly knocking kids over to their displeasure.

That day, you learned all the basic safety rules and how to strike armor against an anvil to shape metal.

For the entire class, you were the only one who engaged, and it almost felt like you and Mark were one-on-one. You didn't have a problem with that.

After class, Mark approached you, sheepishly rubbing the nape of his neck. “Hey, thanks for responding and whatnot,” he expressed, “The Aphrodite kids don’t seem to like this class that much.”

“Yes, thank you! You are sweet and pretty girl. Very nice. Happy to have you!” Argos added.

You shyly smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I actually find forging to be very interesting. I’m not good at combat or anything so I kinda do better in the forge.”

Mark nodded, “I can see that. You do seem pretty knowledgable- at least about the tools and stuff.”

“For knowing what a hammer is?” you giggled, making Mark’s ears turned red as he stuttered out a response.

“W-well yea. At least you answered. Maybe the others didn’t say anything because they didn’t know what a hammer was,” he reasoned.

Argos nodded in concurrence. “That could be the case.”

With Dumb and Dumber in front of you, you laughed, to which Mark reddens. 

“Wh-what’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you smiled, shaking your head.

-

Forging Foundations: Intro to the Forge marked the inception of yours and Mark's love story. 

Looking back, you realize that you had definitely fallen for him the moment he clumsily burst through the classroom doors. 

On the last day of class, Mark and Argos congratulated you for being the only student to get an A in the class, and Argos offered to treat you to a meal in the mortal world.

Funnily enough, Argos forgot about your plans, leaving you and Mark to awkwardly greet each other by the barriers of the camp.

Mark was adorned with a light blue button-up, slacks, and dress shoes. He had a celestial bronze watch on his wrist, occasionally checking the time and looking out for Argos's arrival.

You approached him from behind, gingerly tapping him on the shoulder. When he turned around, he appeared to be completely awestruck.

That night, you decided to wear a long satin red dress that hugged your body in all the right places. You did your makeup and actually got one of your siblings to do your hair.

Your hair was curled in voluminous curls, and you pursed your lips once more to ensure that your red lipstick was still evenly applied.

Mark couldn't seem to control his reaction because his jaw physically dropped.

“Do I look bad?”

Mark’s eyes widened. “No- not at all. Y-you’re gorgeous Y/N, truly.”

You softened, instantly enveloping him in a hug—one that he reciprocated by holding you tightly, seemingly never wanting to let you go.

After a few more minutes of waiting, Mark deadpanned “I don’t think the big guy is gonna show up.”

“I don’t think so either. So what should we do? We both got ready for dinner,” you pout.

Mark bit his lip, gathering his thoughts before a lightbulb appeared over his head.

“Wanna go for a pegasus ride?”

Your lips parted. “Wait, are we allowed to? Chiron said no more pegasus rides after Jaemin crashed into the Big House.”

A smile graced his lips, and he shook his head in at the antics of his friends. “Yea, but it’s whatever. I’m an experienced rider. You won’t crash if you’re with me.”

With that, he offered his hand and you both ran off to the Pegasus stables .

The sun had set below the horizon, staining the sky with hues of orange, red, and pink. The sky was beautiful, and it was a perfect night.

Together, you and Mark made your way to the stables, where a few winged horses grazed under the fading daylight. Among them stood a magnificent Pegasus, its wings shimmering in the twilight.

The Pegasus, a sleek silver-winged beauty named Zephyr, had nuzzled against Mark affectionately. "This is Zephyr," Mark explained, his palms caressing Zephyr's gorgeous mane.

“He’s so… pretty,” you expressed in awe to which Zephyr neighed, snuggling his snout into your side. 

Mark tilted his head, “I don’t speak horse but I think he says you’re prettier.”

“Oh shut up,” you mused, to which Mark laughs, “I’m serious Y/N-“

And you thought he was going to tell you how beautiful you are, but instead he said “I really think Zephyr said that.”

You couldn’t help but smile, swatting at his bicep. Mark held your hand as you mounted Zephyr before he slid behind you, holding the reins from behind you as Zephyr took off. 

As you ascended into the evening sky, the world below transformed into a patchwork of twinkling lights. The camp, nestled between hills and forests, appeared even more enchanting from above. You and Mark marveled at the serene lake, the training grounds, and the cabins bathed in moonlight.

Zephyr soared higher, catching the cool breeze that whispered through the treetops. Laughter merged with the wind's gentle melody as you and Mark ventured beyond the camp's borders, exploring the surrounding landscapes.

You were sure that your perfectly curled hair was ruined from the wind violently thrashing it, but you didn't care.

Mark used the reins to direct Zephyr to ascend before rapidly descending, and you couldn't help but scream and laugh because you felt like you were on a roller coaster.

Mark scooted closer, pressing his chest directly against your back as he secured the reins. "Ready for this?" he yelled over the winds before Zephyr did an actual loop in the sky.

You screamed before bursting into laughter. "Mark!"

His laughter echoed as clear as ever. 

The moon reached its zenith, casting a soft, silvery glow on Zephyr. You and Mark exchanged exhilarated glances, sharing stories, dreams, and laughter against the backdrop of the starlit sky.

Mark finally decided to stop treating Zephyr like a rollercoaster, and you both tread peacefully amongst the stars.

As you soared through the night sky, Mark shared the story of a defining moment from his childhood, recounting how he acquired a scar on his cheek. It happened during a time when he was still learning the basics of blacksmithing, and he cut himself with the back of a hammer when he swung it too closely to his face. 

He also tells you stories about his older sister. She had embarked on a perilous journey into Tartarus, the treacherous abyss, and actually survived. Tragically, she sacrificed herself by immolating both herself and Gaia, an evil primordial goddess, to death.

In return, you shared how you had struggled to assimilate into Camp Half-Blood. A soft, almost bitter smile graced your lips as you recounted, "My siblings— they kinda avoided me, so I gave up on talking to them," you responded.

You delved into the emotional weight of feeling isolated, the subtle but hurtful distance from your siblings

You couldn't see Mark's face, but you could imagine he was sporting his usual look of concern and worry.

He paused, collecting his thoughts before he responded. "Do you think—could it be like—that they were jealous of your beauty?"

At his ridiculous comment, you actually burst into laughter, and Mark thought that the sweet sounds of your laughter were prettier than the stars and the moon.

"I wish," you giggled, "I wish I had those main character vibes, but it’s just because they don’t like me. And that’s fine."

Mark softened, "That’s alright, Y/N. You have me and Argos. We’re your friends."

You smiled before a thought dawned on you,  "But what if I didn't want you to be a friend?"

“Are you mad that Argos forgot about our dinner reservations?”

“No!” you expressed, “Gods no. Mark, I like you more than a friend. I want to be more than friends.”

As Zephyr began its descent, gently landing on the ground, you wished you could see Mark's face. Perhaps it was a good thing you couldn't, as the lack of visual cues allowed you to summon the courage to confess your feelings.

Mark dismounted from the Pegasus, and in a moment that felt like the culmination of shared laughter, stories, and dreams beneath the starlit sky, he kissed you. 

With that kiss, the uncharted territory of romance unfolded, and that night, Mark officially became your boyfriend. The stars above bore witness to the inception of a new chapter, marked by the shared warmth and affection that had blossomed amidst the celestial tapestry.

-

You and Mark are a happy couple. You keep things to yourselves- really the only person who even knows about your relationship is Argos.

In a humorous turn of events, Argos unexpectedly walked in on you and Mark sharing a kiss by the Pegasus stables. The moonlit rendezvous had created an intimate atmosphere, and the two of you were lost in the moment. However, the serenity was abruptly interrupted as Argos stumbled upon the scene.

Profusely apologizing for the intrusion and seemingly flustered, Argos apologized for forgetting dinner reservations. However, his words were cut short as he gasped, realizing the nature of the situation. 

“You- you and Mark are … dating?”

There's no room for conflicts; if something bothers either of you, a simple conversation resolves it.

That is, until he tells you that he’s willingly going to sacrifice himself to Tartatrus.  

You both are in the 18+ Hephaestus cabin resting on his king sized bed, and you almost think he’s joking until you really get a good look at his face.

“So you’re serious,” you deadpan.

He nods, “I am. I can’t let my older sister be sacrificed to a dangerous primordial God,” he reasons.

You bitterly nod, not being able to contest that. Mark’s older sister is one of the most well known demigods within Camp Half-Blood. She actually died and came back to life with the Physician's Cure- so you completely understand that Mark doesn’t want to endanger her life again. 

“Okay, then I’m coming with you,” you bluntly respond, arms crossing as you glare daggers into Mark

“No.” 

This is likely the first time where Mark has ever refused you, and you feel on the verge of tears.

"Mark, you run the risk of dying. What if—what if I never see you again?" you ask breathlessly, your voice carrying a hint of worry and vulnerability. In response, his expression softens.

He approaches you, his movements gentle, and pulls you into a comforting hug. "I don't know, Y/N. I might face that risk, but if I do—then it's for a good cause."

Tears begin streaming down your face and onto Mark’s sweater. As they fall onto Mark's sweater, you voice the overwhelming fear that has taken root in your heart. "Mark, you can't. I can't live without you. I need you here."

He sighs, holding you more tightly. “I’m prepared. Baby- I’m strong. Nothing’s going to happen to me-”

“You have to promise me Mark. You have to promise me that nothing is going to happen,” you sob. 

Holding you more tightly, he attempts to provide solace amidst the uncertainty. "I'm prepared. I've done all I can to ensure survival, but I can't make any promises."

You hold him as you cry into his neck. Gods, you’re going to miss Mark so much. The thought of being without him is nearly unfathomable and a tremor runs through your body.

An alarm goes off on his celestial bronze watch. 

Mark sighs, a look of urgency enveloping his features, “Babe, I have to go now- but meet me tonight by the portal to Camp Jupiter.” He hurriedly pulls away, gathering his belongings into a backpack. 

He pulls you in for one last kiss before escaping through the stairs and out of the cabin. 

-

You follow Mark's instructions diligently, patiently waiting by the portal to Camp Jupiter. As your eyes scan the familiar faces, you spot Mark's older sister and her friends approaching. Recognizing Taehyung, Namjoon, Rose, Jungkook, and Mark's sister among the group, you brace yourself for their arrival.

Mark's older sister beams at you as she recognizes you, immediately pulling you into an unexpected and warm hug. The surprise is evident on your face, realizing that Mark had shared the news of your relationship with his sister. While you hadn't anticipated this revelation, you don't harbor any objections.

"Hello?" you manage to greet.

"Y/N," she responds with a smile, "It's me—Rose. Can you turn off the mist for a second?" With a snap of Rose's fingers, the appearance of Mark's sister morphs into none other than your boyfriend.

A breath catches in your throat, and you're left breathless as Mark shakes his head, enveloping you in a reassuring hug. "It'll be alright. My sister's safe, and you're safe too. Everything will be okay," he whispers into your hair.

Taking a moment to process the unexpected revelation, you sigh and pull back. It dawns on you that this might be the perfect time to make your relationship public. You lean in and kiss Mark passionately and ardently,

“You got this, sweet boy. I believe in you,” you express pulling back from Mark who appears dazed and starstruck.

He reddens, knowing that the other demigods are staring right at you and him, but you don’t care. You press another chaste kiss to his lips.

Collecting himself, Mark takes a moment to share crucial information. "Y/N, look. My sister and I manufactured these rings that'll keep you updated with everything that's happening to Jungwon and me. Just go to Bunker 9, and you'll get live updates of everything that's happening," he explains, holding up his finger to showcase the ring.

As he holds the ring for you to see, you can't help but marvel at the intricate craftsmanship. The significance of the piece becomes apparent — a tangible connection to Mark, a lifeline to stay informed about the events unfolding in their Tartarus.

You hear a voice from behind, “Does your sister know that you told your girlfriend about Bunker 9?”

Mark ignores it and hugs you one last time. 

“I love you, sweet girl. You’ll be with me the entire time.” He lifts up the locket you gifted him for your first-year anniversary, a delicate piece adorned with your image within its bearings.

And with that, Mark transforms back into the image of his older sister and walks into the portal to Camp Jupiter.

-

#nct scenarios #nct dream x reader #nct dream #mark lee #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #mark lee scenarios #nct drabbles #nct 127 drabbles #nct 127 fluff #nct angst #nct dream scenarios #mark lee fanfic #camp half blood au #demigod!nct #demigod!nct127 #demigod!nct dream

[bigbangclappin]

Baby Daddy Gangster 2

Summary: Ding Dong! Your baby daddy is back and wants in your life and your daughter’s. And with that smile you might as well shove the door wide open.

Paring: Nakamoto YutaXReader(1st Person POV!)

Warnings: Cursing! Baby Daddy themes, mentions of smut, toxic relationships, Mafia/Yakuza themes (It’s not glamorous in real life folks!) 

Word Count: 2,382

A/N: GUYS IT'S FINALLY HERE! PART TWO! I hope it's enjoyable! I loved writing it! Let me know if we want a part three!

Tag List: @iveivory @champagne-n-yachts @dilfjohhny @junglewoos

Part one

Unknown number: Is Yuki wearing a 3T or a 4T?

You: Who is this?

Unknown number: Really baby?

I shook my head in exasperation, throwing my phone into my back pocket.  The man was relentless to say the least, he did earn that title fair and square. 

What could I have possibly been thinking back then? 

Clearly sexual gratification was worth more to me than my hypothetical child’s future, because now here I am. Stuck with a gangster for a baby daddy who didn’t understand the phrase get lost. 

I shrugged my shoulders, well there was nothing I could do to change who Yuki’s dad is now. I just had to live with the consequences of my actions. 

Which wasn't all that bad considering my daughter was healthy and happy, I grinned as she played with her dolls on the floor. She did resemble her father, with her pretty smile and expressive eyes, she received all the best qualities of Yuta it seemed.

“Mommy?” Her sweet little voice asked from where she sat on the floor.

“Hmm?”

“Guess what?”

I giggled because she loved to play guessing games ever since she could speak in almost full sentences. I never had the heart to discourage her playful chatter despite her daycare teacher’s warning about how it was becoming disruptive in class. 

“What?” I replied casually, taking a sip from my drink.

“I met Daddy today.”

My entire mouthful of beverage was spewed across the room and on to my daughter who whines. 

“Mommy ew!” She cried, wiping her little arms in disgust.

“Oh Yuki I’m so sorry sugar,” I snagged some paper towels from the kitchen and began cleaning her off. 

“But what did you mean by you met Daddy?” I asked keeping my tone as even as possible. “You don’t have a Daddy, remember?”

She shook her head defiantly, her dark hair flying every which way, “I do have a Daddy mommy! And he’s pretty! And look he gived me a present!!”

My heart was racing as she flew to her small panda backpack. She rummaged through it for a moment before wobbling her way back to me with something in her tiny hand. 

When the gold glinted in the light I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, he really went behind my back. I shouldn’t have been surprised, I shouldn’t have felt hurt either. Yuta was resourceful and clearly he used those resources to his advantage to find Yuki’s school.

The tiger bracelet in my daughter’s hand mocked me; after everything I had done to keep that God damned insignia out of her life he literally just dropped it in her hand like nothing. 

Once a fucking bastard always a bastard. 

It took all I had in me to not snatch the piece of gaudy jewelry out of Yuki’s hand and melt it in my fireplace. I took a very, long and deep breath in. 

“Yuki, how did you get this?” 

“I told you Mama,” She exasperated, “Daddy gived it to me”

“It’s gave love,” I corrected, “Where did he give it to you?”

 She put her finger to her lips in thought, “Mr. Lee tooked us outside to play and dis really big car was dere. Den a big scary man got out, he was not nice Mommy, but den Daddy got out and yelled my name–”

“Yuki, that's dangerous, we've talked about not speaking to strangers!” I scolded her, literally stunned. My daughter was so trusting she basically ran into her father’s arms without question. 

She recoiled at my tone and began playing with the little trinket on the bracelet out of nervousness, “But Daddy isn’t a stranger…”

I didn’t mean to scoff at my child but she had never met her father once, I know Yuki was sweet and that she was young but I couldn’t understand why she went against what I taught her for a man who is a complete stranger to her. 

“Yuki,” I sighed, “You don’t have a daddy Sugar.”

Her cheeks turned red with a huff, “I do too!”

I put a hand to my forehead ready to end the man I had loved for most of my life. This is exactly why I wanted to keep him out of her life. 

“Where was Mr. Lee?” I decided to change my questioning to keep her from getting any more upset.

“He came over after Daddy gived-gave me my present.” 

“Did he say anything to…Daddy?” I literally had to swallow the bile rising in my throat.

It took Yuki a moment to respond before she said, “Mr. Lee picked me up and asked Daddy who he was.”

“Anything else?” I pushed knowing it was a little unfair to expect her to remember everything the men said or did but my three year old was my only witness.

“Ummmm yeah!” she said excitedly, “Daddy asked Mr. Lee why are you holding my daughter? And then Mr. Lee said dat I don’t have a daddy. But den Daddy showed Mr. Lee a piece of paper and Daddy told me that he would see me and mommy later and got in the big car again. ”

Oh Jesus Christ. He never changes. Over possessive asshole and what the hell did he show Yuki’s teacher? Such a jerk off move to use my kid as a way to exert some weirdo caveman claim on me. 

This was a mess I did not agree to and it was stressing me out. I had no immediate fix to remedy Yuta throwing himself into Yuki’s life. I didn’t even have a clue on where to begin to unravel everything my baby daddy put into her head.

“Thanks baby,” I patted her head, “Go wash your hands, dinner is almost ready.”

“Okay mommy.” she scooted off as I made off for the kitchen.

I never quite made it there because there was a knock on the front door. I sighed I didn’t want to deal with any door-to-door missionaries or salesmen. I went to check the peephole and saw my worst nightmare standing there.

Looking more delicious than the last time I had seen him. Tight ass tshirt hugging his pecs and abs. His organization’s tattoos were covered by the jacket he wore all but the ones on his neck. That same damn tiger he gave to Yuki was peeking over his shirt collar like a damn slap to my face.

Against my better judgment I opened the door. I had a bone to pick with him about going behind my back.

“So you’re a stalker now?” I asked with a strong bite.

He flashed his panty dropping smile at me as he smashed the cigarette he was smoking out under his fancy loafers.

“Only for you baby,” he poked at me with that cheeky tone, “And of course our beautiful Yuki.”

I frowned in anger instantly, “You had no right to go to her school Yuta.”

He tsked, “Why not? Because you said so? Last time I checked I never signed over my parental rights.”

“Are you serious right now?” I gasped in shock, “You abandoned us not an hour after she took her first breath! You never came out of the shadows to do anything with her! As far as I am concerned you did sign off on any kind of rights or relationship.”

His cheeks flushed red which meant he was starting to lose his temper. A real shocker.

“You have no idea the threats I was facing at work, I abandoned our family so that you and our daughter wouldn’t get hurt or worse.”

“Why weren’t you honest with me then? I would’ve understood if it came down to her safety—”

“You’re full of it babe you gave me a hard time whenever I uttered a single word about the family. If I had told you the truth at the time you would’ve ran and I would have never been able to keep tabs on you and Yuki like I’ve been able to since she was born. At least this way I could be with you during your pregnancy and keep you both safe even if that meant I couldn’t be with you after you gave birth to her.”

My head was spinning and I felt like I was being gaslighted, “When I told you I was pregnant you told me to get an abortion.”

He let out a hum, “And when you slapped me across my face that was the end of it. I knew how serious you were about wanting her. I never said another word about it.”

“You’re literally insane…” I mumbled running an entirely confused hand through my hair.

“No doubt about that babe you knew that when we got together back in school. Now that we’ve cleared the air may I please come in and see our daughter? I brought gifts…and since you chose to be petty and ignore me about what size she is I also brought gift receipts.”

I finally noticed the large men standing off to the side with armfuls of gift bags, large, small, medium, mostly girly in prints and pinks. Oh my god he’s bribing my kid, he’s seriously bribing my daughter. 

“Yuta do you realize how confusing this must be for her? Like you were nonexistent in her three years of life and just want to pop in with presents and pretend like you were always there? That’s not fair to her, just because you’re her biological father doesn't automatically mean you have a relationship with her. And while we’re on the subject, what the hell did you show to Mark?”

Yuta ticked his jaw to the side and licked his lips; he was angry for sure.

“Who the fuck is Mark?” He snapped at me some of his cool demeanor flying out the window. 

Jealous. Again. Over someone who watches Yuki. Utterly ridiculous.

“Yuki’s teacher, remember?” I bit back, “You shoved something in his face, what was it?”

“Her fucking birth certificate,” he said with a clenched jaw, “So you’re on a first name basis with all of her teachers then?”

“Nakamoto Yuta,” I spat, “Enough with your petty jealousy it’s irritating and irrational and also unwarranted.”

“Apparently it isn’t if you’re on a first name basis with her teacher.”

I was 1000% over his childish attitude. This wasn’t the first time we argued over his tendency to get jealous. 

“Have a lovely evening Yuta,” I started to close the door but one of the beefy men blocked me from slamming it in my baby daddy’s face.

Yuta snapped at the man in Japanese but looked back to me, “Let me in to see our daughter (Y/n).”

“I didn’t bow to you three years ago and I’m certainly not doing it now,” I growled at him, “You can’t snap your fingers and expect me to jump for you like a dog.”

He ran a hand through his dark shaggy hair in anger, “I expect you to let me have a relationship with our daughter.”

I folded my arms across my chest in means of frustration and protection, “What’s your endgame here Yuta?”

“There’s no endgame here (Y/n) but wanting a relationship with Yuki.”  

“Why now though Yuta?” I questioned him with my head tilted.

He opened his mouth to answer when a small cry came from behind me. “Daddy!”

I blocked my daughter’s view by placing my legs in front of the small slot made by the door, “Look what you’ve done. How am I supposed to explain to her that you left when you inevitably leave again?”

The look on his face was a mixture of anger and hurt with his jaw clenched he said, “What I did to keep you and Yuki safe should not be what you hold against me (Y/n), I’ve done a lot of things to warrant your resentment but this is not one of them I promise. You chose me too, you know? It takes two people to have a baby.”

“It’s not my fault the condom broke Yuta…” I growled quietly and my eyes shifted toward my elderly neighbor who was out walking her Poodle. Apparently I wasn’t quiet enough since she gave us an affronted look on her way by.

“It’s your fault you weren’t taking the pill babe,” he said just as angry, “We can point fingers all we want but it’s a little late for the blame game don’t you think? All I want is to see our daughter. Regardless of our past, Yuki has the right to a father.”

My daughter began swatting my legs so she could get to Yuta, “Mommy I wanna see Daddy. Move please!”

I scoffed at how rude my daughter was, “Yuki, that's not how we ask to get by, telling someone to move is impolite.”

“Sorry Mommy but Daddy’s here!”

“Sugar I’ve already told you that you do not have a–”

“(Y/n) don’t you dare finish that sentence. You’re the one that’s going to confuse her. Come here my baby girl, I brought you something!”

My blood boiled as I watched my baby daddy pick my little girl up and kiss her cheek while letting her peek into one of the large gift bags. I couldn’t resist the little smile that poked through at her excited squeal, her happiness was contagious.

My stomach may have done a flip when I noticed the soft look on my ex’s face as he helped Yuki rifle through the clothes he had bought her. It was probably just wishful thinking on my part, but seeing him hold my child just felt natural.

I awkwardly made eye contact with another neighbor who lived across the way and even with the distance I could see the judgmental look on his face. I sighed, finally relenting to let the men in. I didn’t want anyone to report me to the landlord on suspicious activity.

I pushed the door aside and motioned to Yuta, “Come inside, people are staring.”

He gave me that gorgeous smile that got me pregnant in the first place, “Thanks baby.”

As I allowed his guards inside I knew I was going to live to regret my decision but what could one visit hurt?

A lot.

It could hurt a lot.

#nakamoto yuta #yuta nct127 #kpop scenarios #bigbangclappin #nakamoto yuta angst #nakamoto yuta smut #nakamoto yuta imagine #nakamoto yuta mafia au #nct mafia au #yakuza au #nct 127 angst #nct au #nct gang au #nct 127 au #kpop angst

[lololololchips]

Hi, your texts are like my favourite thing ever, how about nct taeyong dating jisung’s older sister, and nct just collectively refers to them as their parents and jisung teases her a lot but maybe her and taeyong have a small argument and he comforts her but she forgets to tell him they made up the night before so taeyong is texting his girl like ‘whyyyy is your brother glaring at me’

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER T-T

Lee Taeyong || in which love is strong

synopsis: in which love is strong even when taeyong “messes up” and causes your younger brother to go crazy

genre: smau, fake texts au, one shot au, fluff, non!idol

warnings: cursing, fem pronouns, very tiny angst, being called a liar (?)

#lee taeyong #taeyong #taeyong nct #lee taeyong smau #lee taeyong social media au #lee taeyong one shot au #lee taeyong fake texts au #lee taeyong fluff #nct taeyong #nct taeyong one shot au #nct taeyong fluff #nct taeyong smau #nct taeyong social media au #nct 127 #nct127 smau #nct127 one shot smau #nct127 social media au #kpop one shot smau #kpop smau #kpoptexts #kpop social media au #kpopsmau #🐾

[sunshyni]

on and on | jaehyun

let's make the party go on all night long. we can go on, on and on

jeong jaehyun × fem!reader

w.c: 1.3 k

avisos: tá um tanto quanto sugestivo KKKKKK O finalzinho só, acho que esse é o máximo de sugestivo que consigo formular sem sentir muita vergonha 🫣

n.a: passar uma semana no RN me deixou com pensamentos na cachola 🥴 Daí resolvi escrever isso aqui, então acredito que esteja um tanto quanto br!au vibes, e no mais é isso!!! Espero que vocês curtam!!!

Boa leitura, docinhos!!! 🌵

Você avistou Jaehyun pela primeira vez na recepção do hotel resort em que estava hospedada, ele claramente não parecia dalí, vestindo uma calça jeans folgada e um corta vento, além de um boné e um óculos de sol, enquanto lá estava você tomando aos poucos um drink de frutas vermelhas em roupas de praia tradicionais, bastou ele proferir sua primeira palavra para você ganhar uma confirmação. O inglês fluente entoado num tom de voz calmo, preencheu o ambiente rapidamente, e você se agradeceu pelos anos de estudo da língua que te fizeram entender todas as palavras que saiam da boca dele. Quietinha de pernas cruzadas em um dos sofás do lounge, você escutou o andar em que Jaehyun ficaria que ficava dois andares abaixo do seu, o que te deixou um tanto entristecida com o fato de que não poderiam se esbarrar casualmente no corredor dos apartamentos daquele andar em específico.

Por pouco você não se levantou discretamente para entrar no elevador de propósito apenas para comprimentá-lo, no entanto você felizmente se conteve, sugando o líquido do seu corpo com o auxílio de um canudinho.

Entretanto o universo estava de bem com você e resolveu colocá-lo no seu caminho no dia seguinte ao ocorrido, Jaehyun e você participaram de um passeio turístico em que o guia se virava nos trinta para traduzir o que o homem dizia, e você se voluntariou como tradutora somente para ter a chance de ficar pelo resto do passeio ao lado dele. E deu certo, você utilizou o ombro dele de travesseiro durante algumas horinhas na volta para o hotel, e Jaehyun te levou sã e salva até a porta do seu apartamento, você até aproveitou a deixa para ensiná-lo como brasileiros costumavam se despedir e deixou um beijo ligeiro na bochecha dele, fazendo-o abrir um sorriso com direito a covinha e se distanciar do seu quarto, um tanto quanto incerto da sua decisão.

Então, simples assim, vocês se tornaram amigos de viagem, tomavam café da manhã juntos, aproveitavam a piscina juntos e Jaehyun até investira em te ensinar a surfar, embora esse fosse apenas um pretexto para que ele pudesse te tocar, na cintura, no cabelo para afastá-lo do rosto, nas mãos e nas costas para corrigir sua postura acima da prancha. Você esbanjava um sorriso de orelha a orelha, fingindo inocência a respeito das intenções bastante óbvias de Jaehyun, sobrepondo a própria mão por cima da dele sempre que tinha a chance, fazendo-o sorrir com os olhos.

Agora tinham acabado de participar de uma atividade do hotel, um karaokê no qual você obrigou Jaehyun a ir porque queria muito cantar alguma música romântica olhando-o nos olhos mesmo consciente de que ele não entenderia palavra alguma da letra da canção. Vocês dois resolveram se deitar no gramado próximo da piscina, com a mínima vontade de encerrarem a noite então usaram a desculpa convincente de que as estrelas brilhando no céu deveriam ser contempladas.

— Aquela senhorazinha 'tava dando em cima de mim, não é? — Jaehyun questionou, se virando no chão para ficar de frente para você, você aproveitou para admirá-lo em silêncio, correndo os olhos pela bermuda clara, a camisa de linho, as bochechas rosadas pelos drinks que vocês beberam num intervalo de tempo muito pequeno e finalmente chegando aos olhos.

— É claro que sim. Do lado do marido dela vale ressaltar — Você tocou na correntinha no pescoço dele que podia ser vista graças aos botões iniciais de camisa fora de suas casas, mexeu no acessório até o pingente permanecer numa posição agradável aos seus olhos — Mas a culpa é sua. Quem mandou ser lindo de morrer?

— Acho que você deveria discutir com os meus pais sobre.

— Discutir? — Foi a sua vez de perguntar, Jaehyun esboçou um sorriso na sua direção achando graça da sua expressão surpresa — Eu quero mais é agradecê-los.

As ondas da praia quebravam de forma bastante audível quando Jaehyun arrumou os fios do seu cabelo ou apenas fingiu arrumá-los para poder te tocar, você retribuiu o toque, pressionando a bochecha dele no ponto específico da covinha característica logo que ele esbanjou aquele sorrisinho celestial mais uma vez.

— Você comentou que partiria daqui dois dias... — Jaehyun começou, achegando o corpo para mais perto de você sem nem se dar conta do movimento — Amanhã a gente pode só ficar curtindo a piscina. Nada de buggys, dunas ou surfe. Só relaxar.

Seria muito difícil se despedir dele, você pensou enquanto balançava a cabeça em afirmação à proposta de Jaehyun, mas no que você estava prestando atenção mesmo era no rostinho levemente vermelho dele, consequência do sol quente e também devido ao álcool de algum tempo atrás. As pupilas dilatadas em união aos lábios rosados, como o efeito de um lip tint qualquer tornavam aquele homem ainda mais irresistível e perdidamente gostoso.

— Quero passar o máximo de tempo possível com você — Foi sincera ao dizer, seu corpo se arrepiando por inteiro quando ele capturou suas mãos sem rodeios, pressionando os lábios suavemente sobre os nós dos dedos. Jaehyun realmente gostava da sua companhia, mais do que ele já gostou da companhia de qualquer outra pessoa mais íntima, aquela era a primeira vez que tanto ele quanto você se sentiam tão conectados com uma pessoa que conheciam tão pouco.

— Eu não quero terminar nossa noite aqui — Ele disse sob as luzes artificiais da área da piscina e sob o brilho natural da lua, as ondas do mar quebrando suavemente atrás de vocês serviam como a trilha sonora perfeita do momento — Me deixa ir com você... Eu prometo que vou ser um bom garoto.

Jaehyun proferiu essas últimas palavras baixinho, num sussurro galante que provocou inquietação na sua barriga e no baixo ventre, o que te fez enroscar uma das pernas na dele, tornando a distância de vocês mínima e engrandecendo um desejo que nenhum de vocês sabia pontuar muito bem quando havia surgido.

Os olhos do homem diante de você carregavam um brilho que era impossível passar despercebido, tinham um ar de súplica e se assemelhavam com o olhar de um cachorrinho pidão, insinuando um sorrisinho em você de puro deleite a situação.

Em silêncio, Jaehyun entrelaçou os dedos aos seus e te conduziu até o elevador, você escolheu o último andar do hotel que coincidentemente era o andar do apartamento que você estava hospedada e quando abriu a porta, ele não esperou as luzes serem ligadas, apenas fez suas costas se encontrarem com a parede mais próxima e abaixou a cabeça um bocado para ir de encontro a sua boca, afundando a mão no seu pescoço e guiando o beijo com propriedade, a língua morna e molhada te conhecendo melhor enquanto a mão livre te apalpava sem brusquidão.

Você sentia que podia se desmanchar alí mesmo, com apenas um beijo, no entanto percebeu que teria de resistir um tantinho quando Jaehyun tateou seu corpo, elevando sua coxa até a altura da sua cintura e fazendo você senti-lo de forma completa, o que te fez arfar com o fato dos seus corpos quase se encaixarem perfeitamente por cima das roupas leves de verão.

Ele pôs uma das mãos entre seus corpos, invadindo e subindo o vestidinho que você utilizava para te ter nos dedos, o que te fez contrair ante ao toque terno dele, entretanto Jaehyun beijou seu pescoço, sussurrando no seu ouvido como se quisesse compartilhar um segredo.

— Não faz assim — Ele sorriu, fazendo entrar em cena a covinha adorável que você conseguiu vislumbrar devido a luz da lua que adentrava no quarto devido as portas da varanda abertas. Você o agarrou pela correntinha que residia no pescoço dele, aproximando sua boca na de Jaehyun numa tentativa notória de espalhar o calor para todo corpo já que no momento ele se concentrava num lugar sensível seu na parte inferior que ganhava toda atenção com a mão macia do Jeong.

Ele deixou um beijinho carinhoso na pontinha do seu nariz antes de dizer, os olhos semicerrados e um sorriso insistente que não deixava seu rosto de maneira alguma.

— Eu quero fazer essa festa durar a noite toda.

#on and on da tyla é mto boa escutem #sun favs #nct127 #nct x reader #nct pt br #nct jaehyun #nct imagines #nct fluff #imagine nct #nct 127 #nct u #nct br #nct br au #nct fanfic #nct #nct dojaejung #dojaejung #jaehyun jeong #jeong yoonoh #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun nct #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fluff #nct u x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x you

[jjngkook7]

Motives (1)

NCT Jaehyun X Reader / Demon AU / Angst, Fluff (?), Suggestive Smut

Summary: You didn’t know how good you had it until your new job suddenly takes you far away from home. Desperate to settle into your new life, you turn to an eccentric medium who introduces you to an entity named Jaehyun. He offers you three wishes, but do you dare make a deal with the devil? ***Please ignore the mantra later. I literally copied and pasted their Favourite lyric sorry if its CRINGE****

“Goodnight! Love you!” you force the biggest smile you can as you wave to your best friend over facetime.

“Goodnight!” Karina blows you a kiss and the call ends.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you drop your head onto your pillow. Your phone lays still on your stomach and you’re tempted to just throw it across your room until it shatters into a million pieces. Seeing your loved ones posting little life updates on social media used to warm your heart but is now the reason you cry yourself to sleep. Facetime calls with your friends went from every other day to every other week because there was really nothing to update them on besides work and how much you missed them. Besides, you didn’t want to burden your friends with the knowledge of how truly alone you felt. You took a peek at the time and let out another sigh when you realized that if you wanted to get through the day tomorrow, you had to sleep now.

As a creature of habit, the prospect of relocating to a new city for work was almost off the table. You’d be a plane ride away from everything and everyone once knew. Your new employer gave you a week to decide and for the whole week, you contemplated long and hard. Your family and friends were completely supportive of your move for good reason: you get to explore a new place, expand your view on the world and make new connections. Alongside the possibility of growing as an individual, the job also promised a pay raise and a better role. All these great reasons eventually led you to make the move. After two months, your bank account was a little bigger, your role in the company was a little better and your mental health was a little worse. The city you moved to was the complete opposite of where you came from. First, this place was significantly smaller than the bustling city you grew up in and seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Second, a fun time was going to the only plaza in the middle of town to buy knick knacks for your home. Finally, it was quiet and actually quite peaceful. The citizens here really cared about preserving the environment as much as possible, so highways were few to none and many people chose to walk or bike. You appreciated how much closer the mountains looked and how much cleaner the air smelled but there was no one to appreciate the serenity with. For a creature of habit, you were kind of pleased with the limited amount of restaurants and shops to choose from but once again, it was hard to appreciate these things without someone to share it with. Your growing loneliness made this small city seem so much larger than it was.

“Tomorrow will be a better day,” a mantra you whispered every night before bed in hopes to manifest for the next day.

__________________________________

A shiver ran down your spine as a cold breeze blew past. You hugged your scarf closer to your face and quickened your pace in order to get home faster. Autumn settled a little too quickly for your liking. The weather was constantly gloomy and with your city being so close to the mountains, it was already below freezing. In the past few weeks, you worked really hard to remain grateful and positive to get through the day. You put in a lot of effort to make your place feel like home and you tried to foster some sort of relationship with your coworkers. Your coworkers were a lot older than you but hearing them talk about their family and weekend activities was somewhat comforting to hear about during lunch breaks. However, with the days getting shorter and the weather getting worse, you worried that you would slip back into old habits.

As you kept your head down to bury as much of your face in the warmth of your scarf, you noticed a weird tune playing a couple feet in front of you. Curious about the source, you first noticed neon pink lights dancing on the sidewalk as you lifted your head. Your eyes went towards a store front you never saw before despite walking down the same sidewalk to get home for almost three months. A flashing pink palm with the words “PSYCHIC” in the middle decorates the mysterious storefront. You inspected the shop a little more and noticed that it was only twenty dollars to get a full reading. You scoffed, figuring that this store was a scam just like every other pseudoscience out there and averted your gaze. As you continued down the block, you thought about what you were going to do this weekend and felt an all too familiar ache in your heart. There was no one to see, no where you wanted to go and nothing you really wanted to do. Your pace slowed down as you thought about your sad weekend plans. Your cold hands formed into fists in your jacket pocket as you tried to push the intrusive thoughts about how pathetic and lonely you were. I worked way too hard to keep feeling like shit. You felt your body go backwards until you were in front of the psychic store again. Maybe they can tell me what to do this weekend.

You almost gasped at how much colder the store was inside compared to outside which was odd considering how cozy it was decorated. The lights were dim creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. A large, fuzzy white rug sat in the middle of the store with two green sofas on top. On the side was a large wooden bookshelf with various texts, trinkets and a diffuser spraying out what seemed to be an essential oil of some sort. You peered around the store and noticed that you were the only person inside. As you looked around more, you noticed a closed door in the back leading to what you assumed was the staff room. Continuing your guessing games, you wondered if the staff couldn’t hear you come in. You walked over to the wooden bookshelf and skimmed through the spines. There were lots of titles you expected in a store such as this like, “Speaking With the Other World” and “Supernatural Beings”. What caught your eye was a large crystal ball with what looked like clouds trapped in the sphere. It seemed like the closer you looked inside, the bigger the clouds got. You reached out your hand to hold the ball but quickly retreated when you suddenly felt the hairs on your body stand. You turned around, swearing you felt someone behind you but found no one else in the store. Wanting to suddenly leave, you turned on your heels and headed towards the front door.

“I’m sorry, were you waiting long?” a voice asked from behind.

You thought your soul had escaped from your body from how hard you jumped. You quickly turned to face whoever spoke.

“Did I scare you? I’m so sorry!”

You couldn’t help the racing of your heart as you scanned around the room. Where could this person have come from? You looked towards the back door and noticed that it was still closed. Were you too engrossed in that stupid crystal ball to hear them open and close the door? Your eyes went back towards the man standing in front of you. He looked almost as worried as you with his brows furrowed and his hands placed in front of him. His bangs were long, almost covering his eyes and he had little beauty marks scattered around his face.

“I just-I didn’t hear you,” you stammered, embarrassed by your reaction, “sorry I just-I thought-“

“I think we both need to calm down,” he laughed and reached out his hands towards you, “I’m Haechan! I will be the one to do your reading if you’re interested.”

You shook his hand and felt a jolt run through your arm, he was ice cold.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled back, “I was just curious because I walk by here everyday and have never seen your store before.”

“Ah,” Haechan nodded, “we kind of just opened like yesterday. Before I took over, this store was literally just a grey building which is probably why you’ve never noticed until now. Please sit!” he gestured towards the sofas.

You hesitated but eventually gave in to the thought of how this might turn out to be a funny story to tell your friends over facetime later. Haechan waited for you to get comfortable before taking a seat across from you.

“So what brings you in today?” he asked.

You scratched your head in thought. You battled the desire to vomit up your sob story to this stranger because it would feel so good to just talk to someone and be honest without feeling like a burden. Your friends knew you were having a hard time settling into your new life but they didn’t know the extent of how miserable you were and there was no way in hell you were going to open up to your coworkers. Another thought hit you, if this guy really was a psychic, shouldn’t he know why you’re here?

“I honestly was just curious.” you finally answered.

Haechan hummed in thought and leaned towards you. You felt your face get warm by how intensely he was staring at you. Is this part of the reading…?

“You haven’t been doing well huh? I’m picking up something to do with transition, dissatisfaction and loneliness.” he suddenly says after what seemed like forever.

You felt your heart begin to race again. You knew that psychics do cold readings and their predictions are usually very general but what are the chances of him describing your situation to a T in three words.

“Uh…kind of.” an uncomfortable laugh escapes from you.

Haechan shoots you a sympathetic smile and you swear the room suddenly gets colder.

“Change is hard but adapting to change is harder. You must remember your strengths during these times. Just looking at you, I can tell you’re more than capable of fighting through this.” Haechan says.

You smile and feel a sense of victory. He was right, you are strong and capable! It felt good to get some validation even if it was coming from a conman.

“I can’t fix your problems for you but I can offer some ways you can practice mindfulness in order to heal your energy. On a scale of 1-10, how accepting are you of help?” he asked.

“I’m pretty open minded.” you lied.

Whatever this guy was going to tell you to do, you were absolutely not going to do. You figured that for an extra $50 he was going to perform some stupid energy healing for you where you guys sit in silence for a few minutes while he closes his eyes and pretends to speak to your "spirit guides".

“Repeat this mantra three times after the clock strikes midnight and you’ll find your greatest desire fulfilled.” Haechan says instead.

He hands you a little piece of paper, which you swore he produced from thin air. You take the paper from his hands and read what’s on it. Thorns, crown, poison. Let my world shatter as I swallow it all. You gasped as your eyes looked up from the paper and you see Haechan standing in front of you. The room becomes unbearably cold as he looms over you. You then notice that he’s wearing jeans and a simple cotton t-shirt.

“I keep scaring you tonight, I’m so sorry!” he apologized.

“It’s alright! You just move so quietly!” you laughed as you wave his apology away.

You and Haechan exchange a few more words before you decide to call it a night. He fights you as you try to pay him $20 for his scam. He argued that since you’re his first customer, he wants to give you the session for free.

“If the mantra works within the week, then come back and I will take your $20.” Haechan suggests.

“Sounds good!” you agree, “I hope it does then!”

”It will.” Haechan chuckles, but the laugh doesn't reach his eyes.

You wave one final goodbye to Haechan as he closes the door. The cold autumn air seems to warm up your freezing body. How the fuck is he just in a t-shirt. Maybe my $20 will go towards a heater for his store. As you walked home, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. You tried something new for the first time since you moved here and you couldn’t wait to tell your friends about it!

You stretched your legs as far as you could as you plopped down on your bed. After a long hot shower and a face mask, you were ready to get comfy and watch tv all night. You rolled over to your nightstand to grab your remote when your attention lands on the paper Haechan gave you earlier. You sit up and grab the paper. For a mantra that was supposed to be uplifting, it was kind of dark. You laughed to yourself at the thought of Haechan typing this out on his computer and printing it out to give to potential clients. You came this far with this ridiculous scam, you might as well just finish-and it was free! You checked the time on your phone. 12:01 am. Three times right? You closed your eyes and whispered the mantra to yourself secretly hoping that things would look up from here.

________________________________

”Going somewhere, Jae?”

Jaehyun yawned as a portal appeared beneath his feet.

“I’m heading to work,” he replied while stretching his arms, “thanks for the new customer, Haechan.”

Haechan gave Jaehyun a thumbs up as he watched the portal glow brighter until Jaehyun began to disappear into the other world. As Jaehyun prepared himself for his entrance, he wondered what his new client would be like and how long it would take before they destroyed themselves. Haechan bet a week and Jaehyun bet a month, winner got to keep the customer’s soul.

#jaehyun nct #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun demon au #jaehyun smut #nct127 #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 x you #motives #jung jaehyun #haechan #doyoung #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 demon au

[haetkeeper]

cardio

lee haechan x female reader < 2.6k

summary — haechan doesn’t really frequent the gym often, but he decides to go with johnny just this once. but because you were there, it’s safe to say that he’ll probably be back again.

tags — fem!reader x haechan / hc is a little bit perverted for this ( but so is reader ) / reader + hc are kind of into each other from the getgo / hc is actually kind of nice in this fic????

smut — unprotected sex ( don’t be stupid ), shower sex, fingering, oral both m!&f! receiving, praising f! receiving , slapping, cream pie

authors note — kinda rushed this one, did it within the span of one day which is so fast for me lol, not proof read sorry for mistakes

haechan had no interest in going to the gym with johnny. every time he does, he finds himself too exhausted to continue, meanwhile johnny isn't even halfway through his workout. he'd much rather stay home and play video games until the sun comes up, but tonight was different.

he and johnny had been playing overwatch for hours, but once it was gym time, he was left all alone. you can only play so many games by yourself, before boredom overcomes you. so what does he do? he lets johnny convince him to tag along.

the streets were quiet, and gym quieter, only the occasional lonely soul to be seen driving by or exiting the building. no wonder johnny enjoys coming at this hour, considering the privacy it welcomes.

they both put their headphones in, johnny immediately making use of a weight machine, and haechan starting on a floor yoga mat in order to stretch.

time passes, half an hour now, and haechan feels that his legs will turn to jelly if he spends one more minute on the treadmill machine.

he wipes at his forehead with a hand towel, and the gym door rattles, gaining his attention into its direction, no one but you entering through it.

he's immediately encapsulated by your appearance, focusing on the ponytail that swings on your neck, and the sports bra that sits over your torso, while athletic shorts hug your thighs.

you have headphones in of your own, and you march right over to a mat to stretch, paying no mind to either of the men who share the space with you.

haechan is curious about you, intrigued even. he quickly puts two and two together, believing that maybe, you're paying no mind to them, because you come here often enough to have seen johnny before.

he walks over to johnny, where he's lifting dumbbells the size of haechans head, and taps on his shoulder to release him from the hold of his music.

johnny raises an eyebrow and removes his airpod.

"hey, do you know her?" haechan immediately asks, discretely referencing to you over his shoulder with his thumb.

peeking around haechans figure, johnny takes you in.

"know her? no, but she's always here when I am, must have the same workout schedule." he states, and haechan responds with nothing but an 'ahh' in understanding.

"why?" johnny smiles, although he already knows the answer.

you've now moved from the yoga mat to the squat bar, loading up the poles with weight.

haechan sighs, watching as you squat with the bar over your shoulders, bending down with your ass out behind you. "she's pretty, that's all." haechan gulps, sitting down into a workout bench next to where johnny is currently stationed.

"go say hi." johnny chuckles, pointing his chin into your direction. and before haechan can detest to the dare, johnny returns his airpod to his ear, once again shutting the boy out.

there's no way haechan could approach you, not at this hour, nor at this location. he's heard the many horror stories of men who won't leave women alone at the gym, and he knows how fearful you may become if he strays too closely.

he decides against it all, pushing you to the back of his mind and returning to the workout he came here for. he stays where he is, pumping his biceps with hand weights, although they're only half the size of johnny's dumbbells.

tuning you out as best as he can, with the burning pain in his arms, and the blasting music in his ears, he desperately ignores the way your body moves. you use a leg machine now, and haechan has to shut his eyes; in order to blind himself to the way your thigh muscles quiver and shake with fatigue.

the current song to blast in his ears comes to an end, and through the silent pause between it and the next one, haechan can hear you— oh my god, grunting through the pain. a simple throaty groan escaping your throat with each thrust of the machine, it sounds so pretty, he thinks.

he can't do this anymore, his arms weak and body hot; he needs a cold shower. so he snatches a towel from his lightly packed gym bag and heads for the washroom.

as you lay back against the leather machine, he walks near you, heavy breaths puffing in his chest, and a drop of sweat coming down his temple; he's the most gorgeous boy you've ever seen.

in the split second that he passes by, you catch his gaze, and before you can muster a friendly smile, he quickly glances away. you frown, your ego slightly injured by the way this cute boy must not be as intrigued by your appearance as you are of his.

but his heart beats so heavily, impossibly more affected by you now, a plethora of butterflies fluttering in his stomach as proof of it.

he strips quickly as soon as his sandals hit the tile floor, letting the freezing cold water wash away his white hot thoughts of you. he thanks god that the throbbing sensations had not yet drifted to his pants, because the tent that could've pitched itself there would have been unmistakable.

it's several minutes later until he finally feels cooled off, and begins to lather away his gym sweat with soap. finally, he's composed, hoping now that you've finished your workout and will be gone when he exits the shower. but as he steps into the unisex sink and water-fountain common area, there you are.

you're refilling a personal water bottle at the fountain, and glance over to him. his hair is damp and cheeks flushed to a rosy pink color, and the friendly smile you suppressed earlier now finds home in your expression.

"evening." you say softly, reverting your eyes back down to the fountain. "evening." he responds with a bow, before turning to look at himself in the mirror next to you.

"do you come to this gym often?" you ask, hoping the cute boy doesn't find you too inquisitive for his taste. "sometimes, yeah." he says, glancing to you in the mirror reflection.

"that's weird, I feel like I'd remember you." you mumble. there's a slight teasing manner in your tone, and he must notice it too, because it has him spinning to face you, taking it as a green light. "i'm haechan."

you smirk widely, continuing the game "and I, have some cardio to get back to." you turn away, but he's quick to jump in front of you.

his face his just inches away from your own, "cardio? I can help with that." and his voice is deeper and huskier now than you'd heard it before.

you back away from him, heart racing from his mere proximity, "you can help?" you ask, stepping backwards toward the female shower room.

"I promise," he's taking baby steps after you, gaze dark and focused on you, "I'm sure it'll have you sore tomorrow." he smirks, and your panties are surely soaked now.

he's followed you into the room, and you turn the shower knob, slowly steaming up the room—if it wasn't getting there already. "and what if I'm not sore tomorrow?" you ask, kicking off your sneakers and playing with the waistband of your shorts.

he throws his shirt across the room, revealing a toned stomach and happy trail down to his pelvis. "then you can call me, and we'll try something a little more," he pauses for dramatic effect, raising an eyebrow with his words, "high intensity."

you drop to your knees, and haechans head spins when you're grasping at the material of his shorts. "I say no, but let's see if you can change my mind." you say in a tone as sexy and dirty as you can muster, so he pulls his shorts down to kick them off, and your jaw goes slack at the mere size of the bulge in his boxers.

he's teasing you now, letting you rub his thighs and dig your fingernails into the skin as he slowly reveals the tip of his cock. you're drooling as the red tip peeks over the fabric, and it just—keeps—going as he whips it out, so long and thick.

as soon as his boxers are fully removed, you immediately lick a fat stripe up his shaft, following a bulging and meandering vein up to his angry tip. he hisses at the contact, gripping one hand to your jaw, and the other around the base of your ponytail.

you lick his hole, collecting the beads of precum that drip there, before sucking just the tip into your lips. he moans so vocally and prettily, you have to squeeze your thighs together in order to keep yourself sane.

he guides you down his length, your mouth so full of his thick sex, and it's quickly hitting the back of your throat. you bob your head just like that, from tip to base, letting your throat take the assault at his mercy.

you fondle his balls, soft and maintained pubic hair between your fingertips, "fuck you're so good at this." he groans along to the sensation, and you moan in return.

he twitches in your mouth as you vocalize over his cock, and you pull off of him quickly. a long and wet strand of your spit and his precum connects your lip to his tip as you back away from it, so stiff and standing tall.

cursing again, haechan uses the hand that grips your ponytail to drag you to your feet. his lips smash against yours, not a care in the world for the taste of himself on your tongue. he's gripping your left breast over the material of your sports bra, and you pump his hard cock from where you stand.

it's so messy and wet, you're moaning into each other's mouths, and he fumbles with the sports bra over your chest, eager to get you just as unclothed as he is.

you back into the shower stream, now getting soaked with water without priority for your wet clothes. you remove the bra, and haechan admires what's been revealed underneath, immediately attacking your right nipple with kisses. he's sucking and nipping at the bud, kneading so hard at the left breast with fervor, he's surely to bruise it.

you cry out at the pleasure, wrapping both hands into his hair and tugging at the roots. growing impatient now, you remove your shorts and panties in one swift movement, tossing them away, and gripping haechan by the neck.

he peers up at you from your chest, a mischievous glint in his eye before descending lower. he spreads you open, lifting one of your thighs and instructing you to rest it on his shoulder.

with a fat lick, he takes you in from bottom to top, entrance to clit, getting a good first taste of you. his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he basks in the noise of your pornstar-esque moans.

"so fucking sweet." he sucks at your sex, wrapping his lips around the sensitive nub and tonguing at the entrance, shaking his head back and forth for your pleasure. you cry out at the sensation, eyes welling with tears as the warm water washes over your body.

he prods at your hole with a singular middle finger, before sliding it in effortlessly through your slick walls, and it doesn't take long until you're writhing in pleasure and he's pumping his digit in and out of you at high intensity.

it's washing over you all at once, and he's persistent with his licks, flicking his tongue over your clit at high speed, "don't stop!" you're chanting over and over again when you come undone over his chin.

he barely gives you a moment to catch your breath, cornering you against the shower walls, sucking on his own finger once, and sticking it into your mouth a second. your pussy is dripping with slick, all pink and abused, when he's teasing your entrance with his tip.

he pushes in, stretching your walls with a white hot burning sensation, "do you need a drink of water?" he asks sincerely, half of his length prodding into you, yet his round eyes are wide and peering into your own. "I hear you should stay hydrated during cardio." his genuine expression slowly turning devilish as he speaks.

"shut up and fuck me." you choke out, and he chuckles in response, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, and lifting your right leg around his waist.

he swings his hips back and forth, pistoning himself in and out of you at a pleasurable pace. while mouthing at your neck, "god, you feel so good." he's hissing and groaning as you clench your walls around him, and you feel nothing but euphoric when he toys at your clit with his free hand.

you're so close to cumming for a second time, when he pulls out of you suddenly, tugging you off of the wall and spinning your body around in order to hit it from the back. you sob at the loss of his fat member inside of you, whining for him to put it back in, and he's grinning from ear to ear.

he digs his fingernails into your hips, whilst you place both your hands over the shower walls for stability. he lines himself up before slamming back into your gummy walls, the both of you feeling impossibly better to each other than before.

harder and harder, he rocks into you, one hand leaving your hip in pursuit of your breast. he tugs at the nipple from behind, and you’re left defenseless with both hands on the walls.

"i'm so close," haechan notifies you, and you're fucking yourself off of the shower tiles in order to meet his thrusts, "can I fill you up?" he asks, and the question pushes you over the edge.

“god yes, fuck yes please!” you’re nearly screaming in pleasure as your convulsing pussy squeezes him harshly, and he growls at the feeling.

his thrusts are staggering, whole body shaking in ecstasy as he shoots white ropes of cum into you. he’s grasping at both cheeks of your ass, and lands a smack to the right one.

you’re both panting through the shower steam, and he fucks into you so slowly now, still milking his cock of every last drop, his cum still somehow pouring out of his tip and filling you up.

you can barely move when he finally pulls out, so empty and muscles so spent, you fear that you won’t be able to walk. haechans touch feels gentle now, ghosting your hip in order to turn you back towards him. “are you okay?” he asks, his round doe eyes that were once so dark and lustful, now a puppy dog brown.

you smile at him, pressing a kiss to his rosy cheek, “call you tomorrow?” and his expression suddenly mimics yours, a toothy grin playing at his lips.

when haechan enters his shared bedroom with johnny, the man wears nothing but a white bathrobe, and jumps up to greet him. “dude! where have you been?” his tone is half-sarcastic, half-serious.

haechan sets his gym bag onto the wooden floor, and jumps into bed, “nowhere.” he responds, also half-sarcastic, half-serious.

“did you talk to that girl?” johnny asks, and haechan pulls his phone out of his pocket in order to look disinterested. “yeah, she’s a real sweetheart.”

but johnny doesn’t let him get off that easily, “well I peeked into the mens showers to tell you I was leaving, but you weren’t there, so where’d you go?”

haechan turns over in bed, pulling the sheets up to his chin and smirking to himself. “just went out for some extra cardio, don’t worry about it.”

#whew #haechan smut #haechan x reader #haechan au #haechan x you #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck x you #donghyuck au #nct dream smut #nct127 smut #lee donghyuck smut

[multifandomslxt]

BLACK ROSES

Pairing: Mafia!Lee Jeno x Florist!Reader

Trope: Grumpy x sunshine

Genre: Dark Mafia Romance

Word Count: 1.5K

Synopsis:

Lee Jeno is a dangerous man. From going on k!lling sprees for fun to torturing and k!lling his own father. He does it all. In short Lee Jeno is the devil.

Y/N is a florist. She's as pure as they come. Nothing exciting ever happens in her life and she’s okay with that. In short Y/N is an angel.

He was bad and she was good. They were complete opposites.

…Or so they thought

Get your tissues for this one. It's gonna be one hell of a ride

*((((A/N- I'll continue this based on the feedback I get...enjoy my loves <;33)))))*

FLOWER OF THE DAY: Daffodils are some of the first flowers we see in springtime and are a great indicator that winter is over. Because of this, they are seen to represent rebirth and new beginnings.

"Y/N, can you look in the back room if they're any more peonies left? Mrs. Lee just ordered a dozen" The sweet old lady shouted out while using her pale wrinkly hand to cover the phone so the person would hear her shouting.

Y/N jumped at the sudden shouting coming from the front desk. She was sat in the break room with her nose stuck in a book, something she usually did when she had nothing else to do around the small shop. "Okay, Izzy." Y/Nreplied.

She placed the book on the table beside her not before folding the page at the corner to mark where she had left off (a habit she had picked up from her mother a few years back) got up and dusted off her jeans then headed to the storage room.

Y/N searched the room high and low before coming to the conclusion that there were no more peonies in the storage room.

"Izzy I'm afraid we have no more peonies." She told the sweet old lady in a solemn voice. 

She always felt awful when her favorite customers couldn't receive their orders.

Izzy, the sweet old lady sighed " Mrs.Lee, I'm afraid we're out of stock on those, you can check tomorrow when we restock. I'm deeply sorry"

Mrs. Lee on the other side of the phone reassured Izzy "It's okay old friend, I'll be sure to come personally tomorrow to check. Goodbye Isabella"

"Goodbye " Izzy hung up the phone

Y/N had made her way back to the break room while Izzy and Mrs. Lee were talking.

Can't really blame her, she was excited to finish the book.

"You'll never leave that book alone will you?" Izzy spoke standing at the doorway of the room.

"Nope, never ever" Y/N replied popping the 'p'.

The old lady smiled at the young woman who continued to read the book she had read a thousand times before.

The old lady loved Flora dearly, she reminded her of her granddaughter who had passed away from leukemia.

"I baked some cookies before I left this morning would you like some?" Izzy asked already knowing the answer,

The girl was a foodie with a ginormous sweet tooth.

"Of course I do! Izzy this is food we're talking about" Y/N rushed out suddenly standing up.

Izzy chuckled at Flora's antics and handed her the container filled with double chocolate chip cookies that she previously hid behind her back.

"Thank you!" Y/Nyelled out in excitement.

Books and food the perfect mix.

Izzy left Y/N in the break room to resume her reading and eating. There was nothing else left to do for the day anyway.

Before they knew it, it was time to go home.

"Goodbye Y/N, get home safely okay? Don't talk to-" the old lady was cut off by Flora's playful tone

"-Strangers, I know Izzy, I'm 22 not 12. You do the same m'kay? I don't wanna have to punch somebody" Flora stated seriously

"Okay darling, see you tomorrow " Isabella replied before getting in her car

"Bye Izzy" Y/N shouted out to Isabella who was already out of the parking lot.

..................................................................................................................................

Half an hour later Y/N was in the comfort of her own home stuffing her face with seasoned mac n cheese.

She let out a long sigh before plopping herself on her cheap, old, blue couch that she had bought at a garage sale for forty dollars.

 The couch was practically falling apart.

She stared at the chipped cream walls of her apartment and allowed her thoughts to take over.

How am I gonna pay rent this month? The shop is barely getting any sales.

How am I gonna pay for groceries? I've been eating mac n cheese for three months straight now.

Maybe I should go back ho-

Her thoughts were cut off by her cell phone ringing

Who's that girl by EVE blaring out of the speaker

Her screen flashed the caller ID

'IZZY<3'

Y/N picked up the phone and answered

"Hello sweetheart, I'm not feeling too well tonight so I'm going to the doctor tomorrow could you possibly go to work a little earlier than usual to fill in for me?"

"Sure Izzy that's not a problem. Is the spare key still kept in the same place?"

"Yes it is, thanks again love, you're an angel, also Mrs. Leeis coming to pick up the peonies she wanted tomorrow tell her I apologize for not being able to make it okay?" Izzy replied in a weak voice.

"Alright old lady g'night and get some rest please" Y/N said.

Eventually, they both hung up and Y/N decided that it was time for bed.

She had to wake up at 7 tomorrow to prep and open the store.

POV SWITCH 

Y/N💐

It was already 7:49 when I reached the store. I was a little late but that didn't matter. Izzy wasn't here to tell me off anyway.

Standing at the door of the shop my eyes started wandering among the heap of black plant pots to find the worn red Russian doll

"Eureka" I whispered when I finally spotted it.

I picked it up and started breaking down each layer until I found the spare key.

With a forceful push of the old wooden door

I was finally inside the store I had grown to love.

The store was weirdly quiet thanks to Izzy's absence but again, that didn't matter right now. She trusted me enough to manage the store on my own for a day so I won't disappoint her.

Dropping my shoulder bag on the front desk I walked over to the staff notice board and memories the schedule for today

8:00-8:30 delivery of new stock

8:30-9:15 restock the flowers CORRECTLY

BREAK

10:15-12:00 Make new bouquets for display

BREAK

Do whatever the heck you want after that until closing

I giggled at the last bit "of course she would write something like this"

It was understandable though the store wasn't that popular and we didn't have many sales.

With a sigh, I looked up at the clock that hung on the wall above the board

8:01 it read. Good, that means the delivery truck will be here any min-

The doorbell chimed signaling that someone had entered the store.

"Any minute" I finished

"Hey, Ricky, y'know your like 2 minutes late right? Izzy's gonna eat you alive for this " I laughed with my back still turned towards the door.

"I'm not Ricky" an unfamiliar voice said.

I quickly spun around to find a tall lean man dressed in a suit.

"Who are you?" I asked surprised

"A customer. I ordered previously I'm here to pick it up" He responded.

He had an accent.

I loved men with accents.

Fuck.

Clearing my throat I made my way to the small computer at the corner of the table

"Name?" I questioned

"Lee Gyun-hee " he replied shortly

I looked up from the screen "huh? What'd you say?"

"Lee Gyun-hee ." he repeated

Maybe I'm going blind or something because the person standing in front of me claiming to be Mrs. Lee did not look like Mrs. Lee.

Mrs. Lee was female

This person was not

Mrs. Lee was barely 5'6

This man was not

"Um....see...here's the thing I would give you the flowers but I can't" I stated

"And why is that?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Because you aren't Mrs. Lee" I vocalized

"이 멍청한 여자. Obviously not. I'm her son, Jeno" He said rudely.

Now my Korean (I'm assuming) might not be the best but it didn't take long for me to figure out that he was insulting me.

This rude bitch.

"You're the one who's lost all common sense. How was I to magically assume that you were her son? For all I know you could have been a stalker or something. I am many things Mr. Lee but a mat is not one of them so don't try to walk all over me. Kindly get that through your thick skull." I offered him a tight smile.

His body went rigid and we both stood in silence for a while.

That was until he took one long stride and was suddenly leaning on the tabletop baring his teeth at me like a fucking dog.

It was hot.

no, it wasn't.

Because of the close proximity, I could now admire his facial features. My eyes immediately went to his pink lips lips

Then his Sharp jaw could probably cut concrete

His big nose led me to believe...stuff.

And.....sweet baby reindeer.....his eyes

Double fuck.

His eyes were practically drilling through me.

Oh fuck me.

He suddenly smirked "You would like that wouldn't you"

My eyes widened realizing I said that out loud

Suddenly he used his index finger to trace from my jaw to my lips, then he used his thumb skimmed over my bottom lip

"How bad do you want me to fuck you?" he asked

I gasped "Let's not...have this type of discussion"

he smirked "Don't be ashamed I wouldn't have a problem giving you what you want"

I folded my lips not knowing how to react in the least - I only get sexual experiences and confrontations from books- virgin way possible.

"Cat got your tongue?" He laughed

I rolled my eyes and stepped back.

Yes

"No"

You're hot

"You're not as hot as you think you are asshole"

Triple fuck.

#nct doyoung #nct127 #nct mafia au #nct imagines #nct reaction #nct wayv #nct x reader #nct smut #nct au #nct fanfic #nct fluff #grumpy x sunshine #dark romance #nct reactions #nct lee jeno x reader smut #nct dream #lee jeno #nct johnny #nct x y/n #nct scenarios #nct jaehyun #nct taeyong #nct taeil #nct haechan #nct renjun #nct mark #nct u #nct 127 #nct yuta #black roses

[luxurijh]

jaehyun fanfics recommendation.

last update: 25 dec 2022 (merry xmas!)

disclaimer! these works belong to the respective authors and are not mine. i will continously update this post as i found more and more gems (read: jae fic) on the internet).

warning! most of the works are containing smut aka not safe for work aka explicit sexual contents, so minors PLEASE do not engage.

some of fics are in indonesian (i'll give it a note).

you're welcome to message me if you have any jaehyun fics recommendation (i'll put them here if i like it).

here we go!

One-shots.

all these years. by @domjaehyun. jaehyun x female reader. fluff, angst, smut, slowburn. college!au. childhood friend to lover!au. how does your relationship with jaehyun stand the test of time? note: i LOVE this soooo much! the slowburn drives me nuts but jaehyun is SO fucking flirty i wanna punch his face.

domaine de la romanée. by @heartau. jaehyun x female reader. angst, smut, slowburn. richkid!au. warning: very, very, very explicit sexual content. even the most pure become tainted when their eyes meet his. this was doomed from the start; you knew it was dangerous, you knew it was bad - but all those thoughts left your mind the second he made you feel good. 

dive. by @yougotthatbilly. jaehyun x female reader. smut. fratboy!au, college!au. warning: oiud smoking.

sleep well, princess. by @anashins. jaehyun x female reader. ft. big brother!taeyong. fluff, angst, romance, smut, slow burn. big brother's bestfriend!au, childhood friend-to-lover!au.

hot girl bummer. by @domjaehyun. jaehyun x female reader. smut. tw: dubcon, potentially triggering. you hate your brother's bestfriend.

team captain. by @smileysuh. jaehyun x female reader. smut, crack. fratboy!au, college!au. jaehyun is a notorious lady killer, everyone wants him. except for you, yuta's bestfriend.

mr.jung. by @domjaehyun. jaehyun x female reader. smut. ceo!jaehyun. secretary!reader.

kating ganteng. by lanlunanit. jaehyun x female oc. fluff, angst. college!au. tw: car crash, potentially triggering. written in indonesian. fics in chat format.

wine, vinyls, and flannels. by teenfinite123. jaehyun x rose. nctpink. angst. romance. leaving a friend's crowded apartment party, playing vinyls, and drinking cheap wine at 1 am.

please stay. by Diana_1203. jaehyun x rose. nctpink. angst, romance. for she was just a mere princess who was head over heels for the brave warrior.

Chaptered.

Completed.

ethereal. by @celestialmark. jaehyun x female reader. fluff, slice of life, slow burns. he was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside.

aurora. sequel of ethereal by @celestialmark. jaehyun x female reader. fluff, angst, slice of life, slow burns. even when you were in the middle of breaking his heart, he still made the conscious decision to see the best in you. note: i love this masterpiece SOOOOO fucking much! so much feeling that's wrecking my heart (i'm SO glad it has a happy ending). i hate how jaehyun is so surreal, too beautiful to be true. wishing we have this kind of jaehyun at least one in our live.

On-going.

secrets of the hill. by @baobaojng. jaehyun x female reader. angst, fluff. 1800's jaehyun!au, arranged marriage!au. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6? inactive. in the present day you are confused; you do not know who you are and you find yourself on an impossible quest to find out— until you wake up in the 1800’s, engaged to a hauntingly beautiful and uptight man who tries to figure out why the girl he’s been betrothed to has drastically changed. note: i love this fic sooooooooo much and it makes me sad the last time the author updated this fic was back then in 2020 ;;

#nct127 #jaehyun #fan fiction #fanfic recommendation #jaehyun fic #jaehyun x female reader #jaehyun x female oc #smut #fluff #angst #nct #nct fanfic #jeong jaehyun #kpop #jaehyun x rose #jaerose #nctpink #au #alternate universe #jaehyun fanfic #slow burn

[kiachiako]

carpe diem | l.hc

pairing |  gamer!haechan x female!reader

synopsis | You know you’re in trouble when your heart starts beating a little faster around Lee Haechan, professional flirt and someone any of your friends would advise against falling for. Then why are you standing in front of his door at the dead of night, lured by his offer of games, marijuana, and quality time with the man himself?

content | gamer!haechan, coder!reader, fluff, angst, language warning, drug usage, suggestive

wc | 5.1k

song | let’s get lost — g-eazy ft. devon baldwin

a/n | wish i could put into words how much i adore the vibe in this fic :(( hope you enjoy it just as much and leave any and all feedback at the end, i love reading your thoughts <3 ly

[h__chan06, 11:23PM] come over

You glance over at your phone as it lights up next to you, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness as your attention is stolen from the code on your monitors. With a snap of your gum and a knowing smile, you return back to the task at hand after scanning the chat notification that disappears just as quickly as it came.

It’s 11pm, and you know your night has only just started; as a compsci uni student by day and someone’s whose late hours are reserved by more… underground jobs, you’re used to the twilight that accompanies you as you work. Seoul’s neon city lights illuminate your apartment on their own as your fingers fly across the keyboard in your lap, lips pursed as your gaze races over each line of code in concentration.

You sigh when your clean slate of java is interrupted by a call pop-up that inconveniently takes up the entirety of your main screen. You’re about to click the red decline button when another text pops up, h__chan06’s < u better pick up > pressuring you into accepting.

“Y/N,” Haechan’s voice echoes throughout your room, filling the previous silence with his raspy tone. It sounds like he just woke up, and frankly, you think it’s the most attractive thing you’ve heard all week.

You hum softly in response.

“I’m bored,” he complains lowly, the sound of rubbing fabric transmitting over your speaker letting you know that he’s probably swathed in blankets in true Haechan fashion. “Want you to come game with me.”

You look up through your eyelashes at the digital blue light time on your wall, groaning when you remember that you have a 2am shift in a few hours at the 24-hour PC Bang that you completely forgot about.

“You know I can’t game for shit, Haechan.”

You hear him scoff at that, his mumbled, “says the literal game hacker,” making you giggle. You swivel around in your comfy desk chair, pushing your way to one of the glass walls of your apartment.

“It’s just,” you continue, staring out into the night cityscape, “I’ve got code due tomorrow for Prof Jung and I really wanna finish it before my part-time at the internet cafe.”

And you might be a little scared of spending alone time with the boy that makes your heart flutter a bit too much, but you would never admit that out loud.

“Please, Y/N,” the boy pleads with you. “Umm, I also just rolled if you want some.”

Your ears definitely perk up at that. Even though your assignment isn’t finished and it’s never the best idea to show up high to your job, you find yourself shrugging on a zip-up and grabbing your keys before you can even register your own actions.

Only a few hours can’t hurt, right?

…

Wrong.

It’s been five minutes of standing in front of Haechan’s apartment door — which just happens to reside in the same complex as yours — and you’re starting to think this is a bad idea.

Actually, this was a bad idea starting from the very first time you were introduced to Lee Haechan.

You still remember that day so clearly in your head; Mark had texted you and your friend group to meet up at his new apartment just days before sophomore year of uni started a year ago, his title as your best friend winning your free time over immediately as you headed a few floors down from your own home with Jaehyun and Karina. You were elated to be in the same building with Mark Lee, because that meant free rides to your classes in his classy Mustang and not having to jog a few blocks down the campus residences for weekly rom com reruns anymore.

However, what you had not expected to see was a brand new face as the three of you entered the spacious apartment, an unfamiliar boy’s laugh ringing throughout the foyer as if he had known your friends for an entire lifetime.

You were introduced to Lee Haechan a few moments later, his relaxed nature and confident smile drawing everyone to him immediately. The integration of his presence into your circle of friends was almost instantaneous.

It turned out that Haechan was Mark’s new roommate (and new competition for the title of his best friend, unfortunately), and somehow had every girl on campus hanging on to the sweet words that dripped out of his pretty mouth; it was just too easy to get hooked on his saccharin voice. He was truthfully too attractive for his own good with his sharp wit and dazzling smile, his model-like dimensions and the headphones/hoodie duo that drove female classmates to their graves with his gamer boyfriend appeal.

It was mostly wariness that kept you from growing close with Haechan, not really sure of what to think of him and his flirty tendencies although he had been nothing but friendly with you in the presence of your now shared friends.

One particular night after exams, the lot of you were over at their place to unwind after such a mentally demanding past few months. A few of the boys were busy trying to concoct something edible in the kitchen (it was most definitely not edible, as you had the “pleasure” of experiencing a few hours later), while Karina and Taeyong were hooked up in the most intense match of Mario Kart you had ever seen in your life.

“Shit,” Mark had mumbled, groaning as his eyes raked over the contents of their empty fridge. “Y/N,” you lifted your head to glance at him as you snuggled up against Karina’s side on the couch, skirt splayed on the cushions while watching the game intently. “I told Haechan to buy the soju today, but this fucker can’t even remember his own address,” he stared pointedly at said boy, Haechan’s innocent expression throwing you off guard, “so I’m not surprised that he forgot the drinks. Can you run to the convenience store down the street real quick and get some?”

You reluctantly got up from your comfy spot on the couch and made your way over to Mark, pulling his free hoodie over your form and tracing a frowny face on his fore-arm as your best friend pulled you into an apology hug.

“He’ll go with you and pay,” Mark nodded to Haechan, who shrugged and grabbed his card before holding the front door open for you with a wicked grin. “Play nice, Hyuck.”

You shuffled a few steps behind him as the two of you made your way out of the apartment complex and through the city night’s light drizzle, hair dampening when you neglected to pull up your hood.

You remember glancing up to him in surprise when Haechan suddenly turned around and tugged you forward by the sleeve, rivulets of raindrops tipping his lashes and glistening down his neck as he pulled you into a run with a wide smile.

“Let’s race.”

It had come as a surprise to you how easily you complied, eyes creased in elation as the rain poured down on your sprinting forms. The two of you weaved through umbrella clad people hurrying to escape the oncoming storm, a boy you barely knew leading you through shallow puddles and blinking crosswalks.

You were soaked by the time you got to the 24-hour convenience store, expressions painted with pure giddiness as you stepped into its artificial lights. The cashier had eyed the two of you with the greatest disdain, his gaze burning into the small spot of growing water pooling at the entrance under your figures.

Following Haechan into the alcohol aisle, you startled when a soft ding of your phone interrupted your euphoric haze. An immediate grimace graced your face.

“What is it? A new assignment?” He leaned closer to peer at your phone, warm breath reaching your cheek as his shoulder brushed against yours. Noticing the shaky inhale you had taken, he leaned back, amused. “I make you nervous, don’t I.”

You looked at him, incredulous.

“Never,” you answered, mentally kicking yourself at how unsure you sounded. The butterflies that you felt like vomiting gave yourself away nonetheless. “I don’t even know you.”

Haechan raised an eyebrow at you before dragging a chair out at the little window table in the corner of the store. Patting the seat across from him, he poured you a shot of soju and brushed a wet strand of hair out of your eyes.

“Then let me.”

You had sat there with Haechan for far too long that night, discovering every little thing he was willing to give up: from his area of study (“I’ll give you my old Python notes for Prof Cho’s lectures,” he had offered. “As your resident game development major and a survivor of the infamous Cho experience, I hereby grant you the right to all of my past cheat sheets and tests) to his unwavering loyalty to grape juice of all things (“You monster.” You had simply taken one sip of your apple drink before pausing with your lips hovering over the straw, feeling absolutely violated with the kicked puppy look he was giving you. “Apple over grape? Monster.)

The two of you had returned to Mark and Haechan’s flat hours later than you were supposed to, the former blaming his roommate for distracting you because he knew Haechan and his tendencies much better than anyone else did. Jaehyun had immediately swept you away in a game of Jenga (you thought it was a mystery why he enjoys a children’s game so much, but is it really?), so you were left with no other chance to speak with Haechan that night, even though he would shoot you a secret smile every chance he got.

It never escalated further.

School resumed like normal and suddenly everyone was busy again. Sure, you and Haechan were still friendly, but you hung out with the other guys much more than you did with him. A part of you was just so unsure about the type of guy he really was; you heard of his midnight escapades far too often to think that he was ever sincere in any interaction with a girl, nonetheless with you. It seemed like the boy that had run with you in the thundering rain and shared his stance on grape juice with passion was simply a figment of your imagination, a fleeting moment among thousands for him. You weren’t hurt nor surprised, already warned of his flowery words that you assumed were customized for each pretty girl that had the fatal luck of meeting Lee Haechan.

But he never made a true advance on you. Whenever your friend group got together, it was just meaningless flirting: the kind that caused your heart to flare up that you desperately pleaded with it to not react to someone like that. It was a sort of game almost, the type where you joked around with him when the time came, but never enough that you would be left with him for more than ten minutes. He still scolded Mark for making fun of you and offered you to smoke with him on more occasions than you’d like to admit, but that was it. A few weak moments in your judgment when you would give in to his offer for help on coding assignments and a free blunt.

As those memories play in your head, you bring your fingers up to your temples in frustration with yourself. You’re always careful with your heart, and you know that his words do affect you in a way they really shouldn't. You’ve been trying to avoid Haechan lately because you think the flirting might have actually gotten to your head. And yeah, you’re probably hyper aware of the scent of his cologne and the mere way he carries himself, but you’re determined to never fall in the traps of your own rapid heartbeat and warming cheeks.

“So then why am I here-” your mumbles stop when the door to the apartment you’ve been standing in front of swings open, the culprit leaning against its frame as his eyes flick over to you.

“Because you get swayed too easily, angel,” Haechan grins at you, his sweatpants and oversized hoodie hanging off his figure so well that you actually think it’s unfair. “And c’mon. We all know that you’ve just been dying to see me.”

You just gape at him before he laughs and tugs you inside, hand reaching up to squish your cheeks together.

“Don’t do that,” you pout after a few moments, pushing his hands away as you feel your face warm.

“I couldn’t resist, love,” he drawls, a Cheshire like smile overtaking his visage as he gestures for you to follow him into the living room. You take a seat on the floor with your back against the couch as you watch him move around, picking up two game controllers from the console before flicking the TV on and returning to sit next to you. The glittering lights of Seoul’s nightlife casts an eerie glow on Haechan’s side profile, all the sharp lines and curves of his face highlighted as you observe him.

Curious, you pick up one of the controllers and fiddle with it before shifting your body towards him.

“Why’d you text me though? You have so many other friends that probably game better than I do.”

Haechan doesn’t take his eyes off the screen as he replies to your valid inquiry, patting the space next to him so you’d move closer.

“You’re the only one that lives near here besides Mark, who decided that late-night practicing for his drivers license test is more important than playing games with me,” he jokes, shooting you a small grin before booting up the game home screen.

Oh.

Wait, no. That’s perfectly logical, you think to yourself.

…then why am I disappointed?

You hum in understanding before looking back up at the loading game.

“Want a hit?” the boy next to you offers, holding out a rolled joint between his index finger and thumb that wasn’t there before. You nod slowly and he takes the initiative to slot it between your lips, fingers grazing your chin in the slightest as he lights the end for you. You take a long pull, closing your eyes and sitting back as your insides fill with warmth with an exhale. Handing the joint back to him, he brings it to his lips and lets the smoke snake out his mouth before dissipating throughout the living room. “You needed that, hmm?”

Your glazed eyes tell him all he needs to know as he starts the video game on his TV, fingers busy setting up your characters and controls on the home screen. You watch his hands in a trance, not realizing that you’ve spaced out until he snaps his fingers in front of your face.

“Thinking about me already, angel,” he teases, hiding his hands behind his back. You hit him lightly and reach for the joint again.

“Shush, Haechan.” He simply blows a smoke ring towards your face in retaliation before reaching over to click a button on your own controller as your vision clears.

“Look here,” he instructs, positioning his fingers over yours so that he can guide you through each symbol and its uses. His cold skin leaves goosebumps as he leaves his palms resting against the back of your own hand. “This red one means shoot, and this one will allow you to pick up things. You press the back of the controller here,” Haechan maneuvers your fingers with his slowly as he talks, “to move forward. Makes sense?”

You nod with wide eyes, still shivering at the contact of his hands on yours. Haechan takes notice of the little bumps against your wrist as his pointer finger rubs against the back of yours.

“Aww, Y/N,” he coos, scrunching his nose at you, “you're nervous.” You protest and pull your hands away from his grasp, failing to come up with a coherent response. He chuckles under his breath at your attempt to escape him, instead grasping your arm and making you sit impossibly close to him so that you can feel the warmth radiating off his body.

With a dreamy look in his eyes and another long, hooded gaze in your direction, he takes another puff before grabbing his own controller. Silver bracelets clinking on his wrist, he shoots you a small smirk before starting the game with one click and settling forward so he can concentrate.

“I’m gonna lose so badly,” you grumble, watching the screen as the world spawns around your two avatars. Your character already seems like it’s suffering, taking hit after hit from the boy next to yours as she crumbles in ten seconds flat. “Kinda hate you right now, Haechan. And you too,” you squint at your girl’s name, “Widowmaker. What kind of person would call their character Widowmaker…” you add on with a mutter, frowning at her. You miss Haechan glancing at you with a small smile and a look of adoration in his eyes.

“I’m betting on it, angel,” he replies to your first words with a snicker after a few seconds, entirely shameless as he completely destroys whatever’s occurring on the TV. He sticks his tongue out to wet his lips as he immerses himself completely in the game. “You’re gonna give me something if I win, no?”

“I- what? When did I ever…?” you mutter with confusion as Haechan jumps to his knees with a shout. You watch with dread as blood splotches appear in your vision and the hearts that indicate your number of lives blink to a null gray, the girl that was supposed to help you win getting hit straight in the chest with her multitude of weapons and abnormally short crop top — you don’t know how her outfit was supposed to be of use, but you assumed that maybe Haechan’s character would have a moment of unclarity and propose or something.

“I won! And I even went easy on you, angel.”

And there it is in all its glory. A bright, green “You Win!” mocking you on his side of the screen while yours just flashes red as your character sinks to the ground in despair.

“Uh uh, Haechan,” you protest, turning towards him with your hands reaching for his controller. “We did not have a win-lose system set up and you know that I’m bad at this.” The said boy merely leans forward and taps his head with his finger pretending to think.

“I’ll give you my car for a week if you win,” he proposes, reaching for the controllers again. Your eyes widen.

“No fucking way,” you say, grinning as you lean forwards. “A month.”

“Two weeks, angel. Don’t push it.”

“A month.”

Haechan slumps against the couch, refusing to look at your pleading face and adorable expression.

“Fine,” he grumbles, defeated. “A month.”

“Yes!” you exclaim, shuffling in your spot with glee and crossing your legs to get ready for the next round. You are desperate for that car; having it would mean no more running to catch the train at 9pm after a botched lecture from your professors who seem to not know what a clock is. And, of course, midnight garlic bread runs without being scared shitless of what could be following you in the dark. “Need to focus…”

Haechan’s gaze zeros in on you, your tongue poking out of your tongue in concentration and your eyes enlarged with a newfound eagerness.

“Haa…” he breathes out, “cute.” You ignore your warming cheeks after hearing his words and nudge him to start the game, the soft look on his face catching you off guard to the point where you have to look away.

With a beeping countdown, another match of Overwatch starts and you’re left in the most concentrated state you’ve been since your last phase of, “I’m-going-to-get-all-perfect-marks-in-school-this-semester” (which isn’t actually saying much because you did not in fact get perfect marks that semester). With your gaze locked on your character and hands poised on your controller, you maneuver yourself carefully through the rotted terrain and hide from Haechan’s lingering avatar.

“I’m not letting you win,” you warn him with your most menacing tone, making your on-screen character do a 360 before shooting a warning shot into the far distance.

“Mm?” he hums, clicking rapidly on his own controller before turning to you, “you can’t win with me, angel.” You still at his words, scared to say something that will give away how truly nervous Haechan makes you. There’s something more in that sentence that you just can’t pinpoint.

After a moment of staring off into space, you regain consciousness and shake your head to clear your mind. “Focus…”

And that’s when you see it; Haechan’s avatar is crouched on top of a crumbling building at the corner of your vision, waiting for the perfect moment to shoot you down from above. He’s got his weapon aimed directly at you and the mere size of the thing scares you — and you’re not even the one being shot.

With dozens of quick solutions and methods running through your head to get out of your impending death, the worst possible thing you could do crosses your mind as you spy Haechan’s finger press down on the shoot button.

Just do it. You want to win? Just do it.

“Fuck it,” you whisper, pushing his controller out of his hands.

“Why would you-” he starts before stilling, the feeling of your fingers clutched around the fabric of his sweatshirt and being pulled in close to you shocking him into silence.

You let yourself lose all rational sense as you give him a tiny kiss, your body shuddering slightly at the simple feeling of his lips on yours. Only meaning to stall him for a few seconds, you reluctantly pull back and turn back to the screen to finish off the game. With one small click and a few splatters of blood on your display, you jump up with excitement as the “You Win!” finally appears for your victorious all-kill.

Before you can even turn to Haechan and taunt him with your victory, he twists his body so he can hover over you, pinning your wrists in one hand and bringing the other up to your face. You stare up at him with wide eyes with your noses just centimeters from each other, and you’re so close that you could connect your lips once again if you really wanted to. And you really want to.

Before you can fully process the position the two of you are in however, Haechan brushes his thumb against your cheekbone and switches his gaze between your eyes.

“You think you can just do that and not face the consequences? Hmm?” he whispers just next to your ear, his warmth breath reaching your neck as you shiver slightly under his touch. “Use your words.”

“The game?” you mumble dumbly, unable to pull anything coherent from your brain at the moment.

“I don’t care about the fucking game, Y/N,” Haechan replies, one of his hands smoothly moving up to hold the back of your neck. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment… you’re going to make it up to me, angel.”

With that, he fastens his lips to yours once again, letting out a small groan when he pulls you into his lap and presses your body into his. His kisses are deep and hard as he pulls you in by the waist and slips your zip up off your shoulders, the feeling of his tongue slipping into your mouth making your head dizzy.

The taste of marijuana and raspberry lingers in your mouth when he pulls away briefly to take a breath, soon after tilting his head so he can deepen the kiss even more. His little sounds go straight to your core, the moans he lets out increasing when you lean into him to slide your hands down the skin of his neck and shoulders. The way he moves is mesmerizing under your touch.

You throw your head back when one of his hands finds its way up to your throat, his fingers lightly wrapping around the base as you swallow in pleasure. He’s such a good kisser that you can feel yourself drown in his movements, delicate and sensual. His teeth nip little bites on your jawline, and you already know that the red blooming all over your skin will stay there for weeks with how much pressure he’s applying on your skin.

Making his way back to your mouth, he graces the flesh of your lips with his tongue before tugging gently. The little sound you make in reaction has him reeling, pulling away to put his forehead against yours.

“Want more?” Haechan inquires with his infamous smirk, nuzzling his nose against your skin as you sit straddling his lap.

Barely able to respond, you mumble, “more,” before chasing after his sweet kisses once again. You could do this all day.

“Ah ah,” he shushes you with his finger, letting the tip sneak between your lips just a smidge before wrapping his arms around you and hugging your body to his. “Didn’t mean to get you addicted, baby.” And with a sweet kiss on the corner of your mouth, he holds you in his warm embrace and rocks you back and forth, refusing to let you taste him. “Wanna keep you like this.”

You comply, relaxing as you sink into his lap in utmost comfort with your arms around his neck and face tucked in the crook of his neck.

You don’t even notice when your eyes start to flutter close, a sudden tiredness taking over your figure. You’ve always struggled with insomnia, but you fade into dreamland as soon as Haechan lays you down with him, hand rubbing soothing circles across your back.

Even you can’t deny it as much as your heart wants to; you feel at home in his embrace.

…

You wake up groggy to a blaring in your left ear, the piercing sound of your ringtone forcing you to consciousness. Rolling over to reach for your phone, you don’t even look at the caller ID before sliding the green accept button and holding the device against your ear.

You can’t get a single word out before a familiar voice blares out of the speaker, making you flinch away from the sound immediately.

“Sunshine! Did you finally get with Haechan?” Mark talks excitedly from the other side of the line, his hyper tone evident without seeing his expression.

“Good morning to you too- Wait, how did you know I was with Haechan last night?” you say incredulously, suddenly very awake. “How’d your permit test go anyway?” You hear Mark scoff at your question in response.

“Y/N. Did you think I really didn’t have my license already,” he says with exasperation. “Do you not exploit my driving skills every other day or am I going insane?”

“I mean kind of, yeah. With the way you drive…”

“Oh, fuck both of you,” Mark laughs out. “Haechan’s lies never make any sense.”

“Lies?” you mumble, confused. Why did Haechan lie to you about Mark anyway? You’re not sure where you lie in Haechan’s spectrum of feelings, but you hope your heart won’t get crushed with how hard you fell just a few hours ago.

Mark sighs audibly.

“Mm, he wanted the apartment empty yesterday and he’s talked about you since forever, Y/N-ie, really. Hope you know he’s very serious about getting to know you,” you gape at your phone at Mark’s confession, surprised. No way Lee Haechan, downright playboy and professional flirt is interested in you in the way you’ve been falling for him too — and suppressing it.

But with the way he cared for me last night, you think to yourself. He seemed so sincere.

“He’s stopped seeing other girls for a few months now,” Mark adds on, easing the worries he knows are running laps in your mind. “He’s so serious about you, Y/N, I can tell you that much.”

You let that information sink in as you sit back in your own bedsheets, hands rubbing your arms with the morning chill as you let the thought of Haechan and you marinate.

Just as your doubts begin to surface again, you hear a delicate knock on your apartment door before the door swings open and reveals a familiar boy standing in the hallway.

Haechan grins at you from behind a pile of fluffy winter blankets in his arms, taking your growing smile as an invitation to enter. He goes straight for your bed, settling into the warm spot next to you and letting his body snuggle into your side. Taking the fleece blankets, he wraps you in the fabric before placing a shy kiss on your temple, your cheeks blushing rose at his adoring actions.

“My angel.”

...

xoxo

2022 © kiachiako | all rights reserved.

#haechan #leehaechan #donghyuck #lee donghyuck #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #haechan fic #donghyuck fic #nct fic #nct dream #nct127 #nct #nct u #nct dream fic #nct 127 fic #nct au #haechan au #donghyuck au #nct dream au #nct imagine #haechan imagine #haechan drabbles #haechan fluff #haechan nct

[taelme]

close your eyes, and i’ll kiss you

pairing: johnny x reader

genre: established rs au, implied friends-to-lovers, (fluff, very lowkey suggestive?) just a couple in love ig

word count: 1.8k (quick breezy read)

summary: in which johnny just wants to kiss you

a/n: got into my johnny hours while watching stranger things so I banged this out in the afternoon. Not proof read so enjoy~

“Need a break before the next episode, baby?” you felt your head lift from where it rested on your boyfriend’s chest as he stretched his arms above his head with a grunt. Letting yourself sink deeper into his hold, you snuggled your head against his shoulder, shaking your head against the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

“Hmm?” Johnny hummed at your lack of a reply, picking up the remote to press the button for the next episode before it could automatically load.

“No, I’m okay. You?” you murmured, words slightly muffled from how your cheek pressed against him, feeling his free hand come to rest on your back, the weight of it grounding you as he rubbed between and over your shoulder blades in a slow, soothing manner.

“Nah, I’m good, too. Kinda feel like a snack but I don’t know if that’s just ‘cause my mouth is like… itchy. Not literally but like, itching to do something, you know?” he huffed, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Isn’t it always?”

This time, Johnny could only laugh. It was different from if you guys were out at a party, or with friends. Those times, you saw how the energy of the room would affect him, spur him on to joke around and be loud and playful. In times like these, when the both of you were awake when everything else seemed to be asleep, you saw the same playfulness in him, definitely. It was just more mellow, more gentle; much like the way he simply let his hand travel down to give your butt a pat now.

“Well, my baby sure knows me well, doesn’t she?” he cooed, leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead.

Feeling too shy to respond with words, you let out a content hum when you felt his hand move back up to your back, sighing as you let your eyes close just a little longer this time with your blink.

Truth be told, you were tired from a whole day out with your parents, helping them with things in their house that you supposed they always reserved for when you would come home - things like mail, finances and figuring out what on earth the doctor prescribed to them.

You were feeling a little headache come on and looking at Johnny’s tv screen in his living room wasn’t exactly helping. It wasn’t his fault, really. He’d been recommending this tv series to you for a while now, endlessly telling you how much he thought you’d like it, and the holidays opened up time for you to finally watch it (with him being more than happy to re-watch it with you, insisting he wanted to see your reactions to it). He was right, you did enjoy the show, but nights like the one you were having now were practically begging you to simply give in to your fatigue.

You were halfway through the episode when you let out a sigh, “I’m gonna close my eyes but I’m still listening, okay?”

Johnny hummed, amused as a scene of two characters kissing had come on just then, “You sure you wanna just listen to this?” He laughed, sounds of the kisses and the rock song playing in the background suddenly echoing louder than ever through the room now that you had your eyes closed.

It seemed then that Johnny had come across a brilliant idea, one that would satisfy both your needs.

He started by letting out a loud sigh, one that echoed through his chest where your ear was pressed against now. Craning his neck just enough to see your eyes still closed, hand against his chest and your fingers lightly drumming along to the rock song playing.

Your time knowing Johnny meant that even now, you could feel his gaze on you with your eyes closed, the light tickle of his hair against your forehead as he leaned closer. The woody smell of his perfume mixed with his breath that still had hints of beer and the grape sweets he'd been stealing from your bag that was conveniently placed next to the sofa.

Leaning back with another sigh (you'd caught on that he was leading to something by now), Johnny's hand came up to the side of your head, thumb caressing the skin of your temple and cheek again in that gentle, mellow manner, with yet a tinge of playfulness you were waiting for.

“Teenagers,” he sighed wistfully, “we were like that once, weren’t we?”

That tempted you just enough to open your eyes, face heating up at the sight of the scene and how much it really did remind you of you and Johnny back in high school and college. You could almost picture yourselves back on your old couch in your senior year, not seeming to be able to get enough of kissing each other that you had to practically shove yourself off of him at the sound of your parents’ car pulling up the driveway, pretending the both of you were just taking a break from studying.

“You’re still the same, you know,” you rolled your eyes, and you knew you were right when you felt him shift underneath you, rolling over just enough so that your head was on the couch now and he was lying next to you, propped up with his elbow near your head.

“Can’t help it, baby,” his smile grew, leaning in as your eyes closed naturally, only to feel his kiss on your cheek instead, “you’re just as hot.”

You scoffed, eyes still closed as your hand came up to find his head, resting comfortably on the back of his neck.

“‘Hot’? Very romantic of you, Johnny,” you teased, feeling him smile against your neck before you felt another kiss pressed there.

"Uh-huh," your smile grew at the ticklish feeling of him murmuring against your skin, as if mapping out his path as they went up your neck, “and I’m romantic enough to say it again.”

"You’re hot," he spoke. Another kiss to your jaw.

"Beautiful." Beneath your earlobe.

"Gorgeous." To your cheek.

This time, he pulled back just enough that you couldn't help but let your eyes open, wanting to see him. You didn't regret it, feeling like a giddy teenager when you saw the way he was looking at you, the slightest of smiles on his face.

"Sexy," he let his tongue peek out to wet his lips, leaning over to press them against yours, feeling almost reluctant for them to pull apart. The unabashed way with which he said these words was enough to make you shy, relishing in the praise but also feeling like you had to shush him out of embarrassment.

"Irresistible?" the way his tone lilted up made you scoff.

"Is that a question?" you laughed, earning a grunt from him.

"Too many words, too little kissing," he shook his head with a little wince, before leaning over and connecting his lips with yours again.

There was the same mellowness and gentleness you felt in his hand that grasped your hip, moving down to your thigh and holding you like that, his thumb rubbing against your warm skin.

Johnny's movements were far from the hurried, urgent kisses you recalled just moments ago from high school. But they had all the same intention to render you giddy just as they did back then. His hand moved up to your shoulder, grazing over your collarbones to your neck as they reached up further to cup your face, the warmth of his hand making you lean into him. As if that was his cue to deepen the kiss, he did, the tv series now long forgotten in the background as you let your hand come up to cup his face.

You weren't complaining at all, and you didn't think you ever would. The thought was enough to make you giggle- the way you were still managing to spend time with him, feel so close to him and not have to strain your eyes.

"What's so funny?" Johnny asked, the feeling of his tongue and his lips as he kissed you after almost making you miss his question.

"No, nothing," you hummed, managing to say between kisses (that was funny to you too, how he asked you a question but barely gave you a chance to answer with his insistent kisses).

“Tell me, baby,” he continued, and if he continued kissing you like that you were sure you wouldn’t be left with any words.

Pulling away just enough that you could grasp his face in your hands, your hands took the liberty of touching his face, as if giving you a visual with your eyes closed.

"I just thought it was funny how," you let the pad of your thumb touch his bottom lip, running it gently across it, almost melting at the way you could feel him suck in a small gasp.

"How this kind of solves both our problems. I didn't wanna open my eyes, and your mouth was itching to do something."

Johnny smiled, his index and middle finger moving your hair out of your face, letting his head hang forward so his lips were close to your ear, humming in agreement as he shifted himself, one of his legs going between yours to support himself better.

You opened your eyes, leaning forward to press another chaste kiss to his lips, almost laughing at the way he chased after your lips as you pulled away.

"I think I'm ready to get back to the episode, though."

You turned to give the tv a glance, beginning to reach over for the remote lying next to your stomach. Though there was no missing the way he kept his gaze fixed on you, his expression serious and definitely unwavering.

“Nope, sorry, no can do,” he spoke, his hand that was touching your hair moving to touch your chin, guiding your head back to face him, “I’m not ready yet.”

You shot him a look, your other hand still cupping his face, the soft skin of his cheek, feeling his strong cheekbones in a way high-school you never would’ve been able to, not with the baby face he had.

You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, feeling him put more of his weight on you. His strength showed in the way he kissed this time, deep and with an insistence that made you feel like he was trying to render you even more than just giddy.

“Something tells me,” you spoke between kisses, “you’re not gonna be ready anytime soon.” Your fingers ran through his hair, he’s due for a haircut soon.

Johnny pulled away slightly to huff, his arms next to your head almost caging you in as he held himself up. From the way he was smiling at you, you could almost hear him say it, the flashback of how he cooed that his baby knows him so well.

Here it was again, on a midnight like this, his mellow, gentle yet playful side as he let his teeth graze your lower lip slowly, just enough to make you gasp.

“Well, lucky for us, we have the whole night to find out.”

#nct johnny #johnny seo #johnny suh #suh youngho #nct #nct 127 #nct127 johnny #johnny seo x reader #johnny fluff #johnny scenarios #johnny imagines #johnny x reader #johnny au #nct au #nct scenarios #nct 127 au #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 scenarios #taelme

[haespoir]

break your rules: mkl. (smau)

“break your rules; cross that line and start with me first.” 

⨯ summary: johnny’s younger sibling is finally home, and they have one rule: never date their brother’s friends. unfortunately, mark lee makes this rule extremely difficult to follow. in fact, he seems hellbent on making them break it. 

part three: the schemes begin[ prv / nxt ]

⨯ a/n: just something short to get the plot rollin' enjoy :3

y/n's phone:

mark's phone:

⨯ taglist: @luvvsnae @liliansun @sstarrysshit @qghosty @95cheols @makiswrld @brownsugarbaybee @mxnhoeuwu @21nainai @dontsayandrew @artstaeh @lcvehyvck @mowchiie @kittydollzz @n0hyuck

#nct #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct social media au #nct imagines #mark smau #mark texts #mark fluff #mark fic #mark scenario #mark scenarios #nct texts #nct127 fic #nct127 smau