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Omggg haechan as dad and a husband please and thxx 💛

Dad: Here. 

Husband: Devoted. Sometimes needs reassurance that you still love him. Chooses you. Will never let you win in board games. Never fails to make you laugh. Silent treatments. Picking out furniture together. Making the home look nice. Affectionate. Acting like kids when you’re supposed to be adults. Being grateful for you but scared to verbally admit it. Constantly singing around the house. 

Could you describe how you think skinship would be like with 127??

Taeil: He’s very accepting of skinship. I think he enjoys being doted on. I can see him holding someones hand while he’s driving, or while he’s watching movies. I think it’s easy for him to be loved and to love. Kisses you just because he felt like it. Everything would feel very natural and not forced. He definitely likes being both little spoon and big spoon. 

Johnny: It would feel good. Being with him feels safe. If he reaches for your hand, I think it would feel nice slipping your hand into his. His hugs would feel warm and loving. I think he’s the type to rest his hand casually on your leg. I don’t think he ever questions anything he does. Since I think he’s more dominant, he’s the type to confidently lead you.

Taeyong: Sweet. I think each touch would be a little timid, at first. He seems like he’s never quite sure of what to do. Once he starts, he wouldn’t be able to stop. I feel like he would end up touching you the way he would pet a cat. Very lovey-dovey and soft. Loves to cuddle and to be held. I don’t think there would be any shortage of skinship when you’re with him. He’s definitely someone who thrives when people give him that physical affection. 

Yuta: Is a face kisser. Will kiss your cold nose, your puffy cheeks, and your forehead. Pulls you closer to him when he feels you’re too far away. He’s the type to touch you sensually. Likes to make the hair on your arms stand on end. Knows exactly how he makes you feel. Every stroke is loving and purposeful. He just wants to make you feel good when he’s loving you. Back massages and shoulder kisses. 

Doyoung: In public, he’ll let everyone know you’re his. He’ll want all of the typical couple-y things, like hand holding or his arm wrapped around your waist. I don’t think he’s that original. I don’t even think he’s that into skinship, but I think he’ll do it because he thinks it’s what should be done. In private, he really just needs you to lay next to him. He’ll move over to kiss you, to hold you, but he really just needs you there.

Jaehyun: Kisses on the lips. Leaning over to pretend he’s grabbing something and then kissing your cheek unexpectedly. Wants your arms wrapped around his body. I don’t think he is shy in giving or receiving touch. I think he’s shy with receiving heartfelt words more than if you were to hug him. I don’t think he’s naturally affectionate. I think he has his really special moments.

WinWin: I kind of think he’s more affectionate than he comes across. Every move he makes has a motive. He’ll never do anything just because someone else wants him to. He wants you to know he loves you, he wants you to know how he’s feeling. If he’s feeling it, he’ll hug you. I can see him being really affectionate when he’s sleeping. I feel like he would drape his legs and arms over your body.

Jungwoo: Leans on you a lot. Not just physically but emotionally. Though he’s bigger, he’ll seem so small when he grabs your arm to steady himself. Loves to hold your arm and your hand. Kisses the back of your hand to get your attention. Loves to sink down to your height and put his head on your shoulder. Not that into touching you any other way than something innocent. Pouty kisses and head nudges. 

Mark: If he’s feeling needy, he’ll be all over you. He’ll rub his head on you to get your attention. He would touch you as gingerly as he touches his guitar strings when he’s lost in thought. More than anything, he’s hoping you’ll initiate it first so he knows that you want it. Rarely initiates in public or in front of other people he might feel threatened by. He’s private. Holds his arms open for hugs. Always knows when you need them, too. 

Haechan: He would initiate it a lot. He constantly needs to be touching, preening, poking, and loving on you. The only time it would cease is if he weren’t in a good mood. He’ll come to you when he’s feeling a lot of strong emotions that he doesn’t want to handle on his own. Loves to hold your hand in public. Is always randomly hugging you, squeezing your body so tightly that it hurts. Has to make sure you’re warm by rubbing your arms. Lays on you a lot.

Who is into pda 💗💗 most least request

Most Likely

Haechan: Needs to know you love him. Needs to know you still love him in a sea of other people. He can't hide how he feels.

Yuta: He likes physical contact. That's really just all there is to it.

Chenle: While I think he just enjoys soft PDA, he does it because he doesn't care what people think of him.

Taeyong: Is the type to reach out for you when he needs you. He's sensitive. Kind of clingy and wants attention.

Shotaro: He gives me "I look shy but I'm absolutely not" energy. I don't think he would have a problem with letting people see how much he wants you.

Xiaojun: I honestly feel like he's just happy to be a part of anything. Happy to be where you are. Happy to kiss you, hug you and hold you. It doesn't matter where you are.

Taeil: He does love to express himself, so I think he would be into it.

Jungwoo: Nothing too steamy or he feels embarrassed. I feel like he gives the best hugs.

YangYang: He likes you by his side. He likes to hold you. He likes if you're into him physically.

Renjun: Wants to engage in PDA. Will never initiate. Wants to be one of those couples. Daydreams about it often.

Jeno: I feel like he loves to be touched. It makes him feel loved and important. However, I think he's hesitant to put those feelings on blast.

Jaehyun: Some days he feels like he would be all into the most intense PDA. Wants to make out, wants to hold you, wants to do all the couple-y things. Other days he feels like someone who is really bashful and wants people to mind their own business.

Kun: Has a lot of self control. He's the type that can wait until you get inside to show you how affectionate he can be.

Hendery: He likes showing his affection but feels it's a private matter.

Johnny: It's a respect thing. He's too socially aware of how things look. Anything he does will be subtle and secretive. DOES find it thrilling, though.

Mark: He likes typical romantic hand holding. He thinks kissing in public is too much. It's not how he chooses to express his feelings.

Doyoung: I feel like he finds aggressive PDA (making out, groping, etc.) really gross.

Ten: Surprisingly, he's not as into wild PDA. He loves to connect in the moment, but I just get the feeling that it's not as public.

Jaemin: He always knows he could but he won't. Like Johnny, it's a respect thing. He doesn't want to make anyone uncomfortable. I think his affection, in public, probably looks a little different to everyone else.

Jisung: He's not into it. He's the type to remove your hand from his body. He won't kiss in public unless he forgets where he is for a moment. Not totally against hand holding.

WinWin: It's totally his thing. I put him low on this list because I think he's a little too self-conscious for that. He wants to so bad but he won't.

Sungchan: I feel like PDA makes him panic.

Least Likely

YOU: chapter one - the end

AKA you and Haechan fell out of love 

inspired by songs by The 1975 (i’m regressing to the first version of my tumblr self lmao)

Chapter 1: Antichrist 

well i love the house that we live in, i love you all too much, is it the same for you?

genre: (ex)boyfriend!Haechan w/female reader 

word count: ~3100

warnings: ANGST (lets all feel terrible together), hot breakup sex, world mixing, AU

 chapter 2: undo

No relationship is perfect, but people always said you and Haechan were as close as it gets.

Afficher davantage

Hold Me Together, Break Me Apart

Pairing | Haechan x gn!Reader

Genre | fluff, angst, roommate au, college au

Warning(s) | bad language, cursing, slamming doors, broken door knobs, broken hearts, reader is mean to Jeno (for a kinda reason)

Synopsis | Your roommate is never far from your mind, especially when you need him to hold you together as you break from the stress of college life. But what happens when you break him by accident.

Author’s Notes | Thank you sweet anon for your request! I had so much fun writing this! I really hope you like it! I may also be posting a part 2, I haven't decided yet. What do you guys think?

Work Count | 2.9K

Tagging | @treasurehobi

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Exhaustion swept across your shoulders as you shoved your key in the tattered lock of your apartment door, wincing when the gears crunched as you turned the key. When the lock clicked, you moved the key back to its resting place before pulling back on it, attempting to free it from the snug hug of the gears. However, it seemed far too content buried deep in the edges of the lock.

With a groan, you turned the jiggly handle and pushed the door open, immediately being bombarded by the sounds of four yelling boys sitting on your couch with remote controls in hand. You had forgotten your roommate was inviting his friends over.

“Donghyuck,” you called, closing the door and walking deeper into the apartment.

You kicked your shoes off at the door and slung your bag into a chair.

Your roommate didn’t answer for a long moment, but when he did, he was distracted, not even sparing you a glance.

“Yeah?”

“My key got stuck again.”

Three times your key had managed to get stuck in the lock. All three times, Donghyuck had been the one to free it.

The male in question sighed as his fingers sped over the keys of the metallic control in his hand.

“I’ll get it out in a minute,” he said.

With a nod, you made your way to your room, seeking escape from the loud yelling of the boys in the next room.

As soon as the door was shut, you let yourself succumb to the emotions attempting to swallow you up. Your knees hit the floor, face buried in your hands as tears wet your fingers. Your shoulders shook slightly as silent sobs wracked through your body.

University was hard enough without the added stress of working, gnawing at your body and soul, pulling you apart piece by piece until your tender bits were exposed for the world to abuse.

College was meant to be fun. A time for parties and drinking. A time of self discovery while also learning more about whatever subject interested you the most. These days, your life was limited to taking four classes throughout the morning, taking an hour for lunch, before reporting to the restaurant across the street where you worked as a wait staff, taking orders and receiving too few tips to add onto your already poor paycheck.

The restaurant had been the only job hiring at the time, and you desperately needed the money. Your family had been supporting you, but when your younger brother dropped out of high school, they began spending too much money taking care of the son they’d ruined by spoiling. Your father could no longer afford paying your half of the apartment rent and, while Donghyuck hadn’t outright said anything of his displeasure, covering both halves of rent for two months, you knew the boy also didn’t make enough to pay the full cost and still be able to go out with his friends. You couldn’t do that to him. So you’d taken the first job that landed in your lap, and here you were, crying on your bedroom floor at 11pm, pondering the idea of dropping out of college all together and moving back home.

A knock on your door startled you out of your thoughts.

“(Y/N), can I come in?”

You quickly ran your fingers under your eyes, wiping away the dampness the tears had left, hoping your eyes were puffy enough to be noticeable. You pulled yourself up off the floor and grabbed your door handle, twisting it and opening the door.

“Yes?”

“I have your key- hey what’s wrong?”

He presented your key between his thumb and index finger, but as soon as his eyes caught sight of your face, he paused.

You felt tears prick to your eyes, but you fought to hold them back. You hated when people asked you questions like that when you were upset. It made holding back the dam of tears that much more difficult.

“Nothing.”

That should have been the end of it, but your voice cracked, and Donghyuck was stepping into your room, wrapping his arms around your middle, and pulling you against his chest. As your face connected with the soft material covering his shoulders, you felt the dam finally give way, a loud sob leaving your mouth as your own ars wound around him, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you bellowed against him.

His arms tightened around you, almost as though he were a bungee strap wrapped tightly around a crumbling box, there to hold it together.

“I’m so tired!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking hard. “I have three papers due by tomorrow night that I haven’t even started because I’ve had to work and when I get home I’m exhausted and I keep pushing it off and now I’m going to fail three classes and-”

You were cut off by his soothing voice, shushing you softly as his hand stroked your back the way he knew you liked.

“It’s going to be ok baby,” he whispered softly.

Your roommate somehow had a weird effect on you. Just by speaking in a certain tone, he could rile you up, make you sleepy, or completely put all your fears and nerves to rest. As you melted against him, allowing him to take the majority of your weight, you didn’t stop to ponder the nickname.

“What classes are your papers due in?” he asked.

His arms around your waist loosened, but neither of you let go.

“Literature with Dr. Wong, Grammar with Dr. Jeon, and History with Dr. Lee.”

“Come with me.”

With that, he pulled away from your hug, leaving you about to whine when he grabbed your hand and pulled you from the room.

“Does anyone have Dr. Lee, Dr. Jeon, or Dr. Wong?” he asked.

“I’ve got Wong,” the tallest of Donghyuck’s friends, you believed his name was Jeno, said.

“Have you finished your paper for his class?”

Jeno nodded.

“Will you come over tomorrow and help (Y/N) write hers?” Donghyuck asked.

“Sure!” Jeno said, giving you a reassuring smile.

“I have Dr. Jeon, but I’m not finished with my paper yet. I asked for an extension though and she gave me until Monday. Maybe ask for one too and then we can work on them together,” Donghyuck’s friend with dyed blue hair offered.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, nodding.

“Thank you Jaemin,” Donghyuck beamed.

“I have Dr. Lee, but you know he doesn’t read our papers right? As long as you have the buzz words he’s looking for, he’ll give you a good grade. I can email you my paper and you can just rewrite a few sentences so it isn’t total plagiarism,” the other, tiny friend answered.

Renjun actually happened to be in your class with Dr. Lee. You didn’t know why you hadn’t realized before.

“Now see! All you have to do is ask for help when you need it,” Donghyuck said, squeezing your hand softly before letting it go.

“Now, I have to get back to beating these losers’ asses, but there’s pizza in the fridge if you're hungry!”

Donghyuck leapt onto the couch, settling himself between Jeno and Renjun, retrieving his controller. Then they all were gone once again, back in their own world of screaming obscenities at one another as they fought whatever the zombie alien things on the screen were.

With a smile, you felt your body relaxed, muscles now not as tense as you as you made your way into the kitchen to retrieve the pizza he had mentioned.

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When the next morning rolled around, you were hauling yourself out of bed to attend your morning classes, but today, you didn’t feel horrible, like you wanted to crawl back under the blankets and sleep your life away. Perhaps it was the fact that you had the day off. Or maybe it was because your roommate had somehow taken all your worries and frustrations and made them easier to handle.

Like he always did.

Donghyuck was nothing if not reliable. He was always there when you needed him, whether it was getting your key out of an old lock or gluing you back together as you fell apart in his arms. He was always there to ground you. Maybe he could be annoying sometimes, especially when it was three in the morning and he was crawling in bed with you after having a nightmare, or when he’d beg you to make him hot chocolate every day in the winter because he always scorched the milk when he tried. Lee Donghyuck was the perfect person to share your home with. You just wished you could share the rest of your life with him too.

As your last class ended, you pulled your phone from your bookbag to find a notification to join a group chat from Donghyuck. Raising your eyebrow, you accepted, seconds later directed to a chatroom full of memes and video game references.

FullSun00: Finally she’s joined!

JenoJams: Cut her some slack, she’s been in class!

Jaemberry: She should just text in class like we do!

You: Texting in class prohibits learning!

ArtJun: I like this girl!

FullSun00: (Y/N)!! Meet us in the cafeteria!! We’re sitting in one of the back booths!!

You: Uh… Ok? I’ll be there in five.

Donghyuck was always adamant about keeping you away from his friends group chats despite the amount of times Jeno and Jaemin had tried to convince him to add you. Being invited now was a little odd, but odd didn’t fight the smile on your face as you shoved your notebooks into your bookbag and took off for the cafeteria.

When you got there, the cafeteria was full, as it usually was, but you managed to wind yourself around the heaps of students waiting in lines or moving toward their tables. You walked toward the back of the cafeteria where the most popular seats were, cushioned booths that were alway crowded.You scanned the area looking for Donghyuck, but in the end, it was Jaemin’s blueberry hair that led you to them.

“How did you guys manage to get a booth?” you asked, taking off your backpack.

The booths had long seats large enough to fit three or four people on either side, tables stretching long enough to encompass everyone's plates with plenty of room to spare. It’s part of what made them so popular.

Jeno took your backpack from you, passing it across the table to Jaemin who slid it under the booth where it joined the pile pressed against the wall.

“We got here an hour ago. We tend to spend a few hours here. Easier to eat our fill that way,” Jaemin said.

Renjun snorted.

“Jeno and Jaemin are like human vacuum cleaners. It takes many servings before they’re satisfied,” he laughed.

You shook your head, eyes scanning over the table before realizing that someone was missing.

“Where’s Donghyuck?”

“Miss me already?” your roommate's annoying voice spoke from behind you.

You whirled around to find the man in question standing there juggling two cups of soda and two plates filled with food from the pasta bar, which happened to be the most popular bar and incidentally, your favorite.

“I figured you’d be hungry and I know you love your pasta,” he said.

He moved around you, placing both plates and drinks on opposite sides of the tables before sliding in next to Jeno. It was only then that you realized the second plate was for you.

“Donghyuck… you didn’t have to-”

“Hush and sit,” the male said, looking down at his plate.

If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought the man was blushing. But this was Donghyuck you were talking about, and Donghyuck didn’t get embarrassed or blush.

You sat yourself down by Renjun and lifted your soda to your lips. As soon as it hit your taste buds, you sighed happily. Donghyuck knew you so well. He knew exactly what you’d want to eat and drink. He was perfect. He’d make the perfect boyfriend…

“Hey (Y/N), after lunch, you want to head back to your place to work on that paper? I’m done for the day,” Jeno asked.

You swallowed the noodles you’d just shoveled into your mouth.

“Sure! I’m done too! And the apartment will be quiet because Hyuck has class!” you shot a teasing smirk in Donghyuck’s direction, earning yourself a glare.

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Lunch seemed to fly by and before you knew it, Jaemin was handing you your bookbag as you all grabbed up your plates, ready to relinquish your booth to someone else.

You bid goodbye to Jaemin, Renjun, and Donghyuck, all who were heading to various classes while you and Jeno made your way across the street to your apartment complex.

Stepping inside, your key thankfully didn’t get stuck this time. You tossed your bookbag onto the couch before flopping beside it. You grabbed your laptop off the side table. Jeno took a seat beside you, opening his own laptop.

As soon as the screen to your laptop turned on, you let out a loud yelp as one of your many images of you and Donghyuck together met your eyes, Donghyuck’s sun-kissed face grinning at you through the screen. You typed your password in hastily, but it was too late. Jeno’s face blossomed into a teasing, shit-eating grin that you wanted to slap away.

“So… Donghyuck huh?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about!”

Embarrassment made your stomach churn.

“How long?”

There was no hiding it. Jeno had seen your computer screen. While most university girls had images of baby animals or their favorite band as their lock screens, you had your favorite person to stare back at you.

“Since I moved in…” you mumbled.

His eyes widened.

“And you haven’t told him yet?!” he gaped.

“I haven’t told anyone.”

“You told me!!”

“No, you found out, there’s a big difference,” you corrected.

“Well are you going to tell him?” Jeno asked.

“Of course not! Why would I tell my roommate that I’ve got a big fat crush on him?!” you exclaimed.

“Maybe because he could like you too?”

“Psh, yeah right. Come on, let’s get to work.”

“(Y/N)-”

“No Jeno. I may practically be in love with the man, but why would he ever like me?! He is everything and I’m nothing. He’s the full package with so much to offer some lucky person who steals his heart. I have nothing to offer him but stress and insecurities. So can we please just get to work on this paper and forget about him?!”

You didn’t realize you had tears rolling down your cheeks until Jeno brought his hand up to cup your face, gently running his thumb under your eyes to wipe away the tears softly.

“You’re not nothing. You’re everything,” he whispered.

There was something in his voice. Something that had you drawing closer to him. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back up to your eyes. Your head buzzed with want, blissfully unaware to the emotions of your heart as Jeno’s lips met yours.

His lips were rough, chapped. They pricked yours almost uncomfortably, but they were warm and moist. It had been so long since you’d had such a moment with anyone. So long since you’d last been kissed that perhaps your judgment was impaired as your lips moved against his.

But all too soon, reality was coming to slap you in the ass. This time, in the form of the apartment door opening and Donghyuck stepping through, a gasp leaving his lips as he caught his best friend and the girl he’d fallen in love with locking lips on his couch.

Your lips quickly separated from Jeno’s at the sound of someone intruding. Your eyes became as wide as saucers when you noticed Donghyuck standing in the threshold of your home.

You shot up from the couch, nearly knocking your computer to the floor.

“Hyuck! I can explain! We-”

“Don’t bother.” His tone was so icy it tore right through your heart.

He slammed the door and stormed off to his room. You jumped as his bedroom door slammed shut with a hard wham that made the walls rattle.

“I-... I…”

More tears pooled in your eyes as your hands began to shake.

“No…” you whispered.

Jeno stood up from the couch and made a move to wrap his arms around you, to comfort you, but you lurched away from him.

“No!” you screamed! “Leave me the fuck alone!”

Your breathing was heavy. Anger ripped through your veins. You knew it wasn’t entirely Jeno’s fault, and it wasn’t fair of you to scream at him like it were, but you couldn’t help it. Standing in the wake of a big mistake, you had no other option but to be angry, because how would your roommate ever like you now if he thought you were dating his best friend.

“(Y/N) please-” Jeno began, but you cut him off.

“Was this your plan?! Get me to fall apart so you could put me back together when he walked in?! Do you realize how fucking messed up that is?! I confided in you! I told you how I felt! And you kiss me?! Then he walks in and you try to hug me?! I don’t like you Jeno! Not like I love him! You are not, nor will you ever be, Lee Donghyuck! So just get out!”

You weren’t typically a rude or mean person, but as Jeno looked down before packing up his laptop and scurrying from the room like a puppy with his tail between his legs, you couldn’t help feeling like you’d just lost two great friends.

Maybe today wasn’t a good day after all.

MOVES

aka good things take time (the happy ending version)

word count: 11.3k

i first started writing this because i’ve been listening to the song Moves by Suki Waterhouse on repeat, but it became much more than that

contents: long time best friend!haechan, slice of life, pining and yearning, chronological time jumps (mostly college and young adulthood), other members mentioned (Mark and Jeno!roommates), kissing, fluff, wet dreams, a good example of two people who seriously need to communicate, face sitting, morning sex, lots of pet names

“Do you think we’ll be friends for a long time?” Haechan’s soft voice distracts your attempt to focus on a blade of the blurry ceiling fan, unable to keep you cool despite it spinning so fast you think it might fly away.

“How do you mean?” the bed squeaks when Haechan sits up to lean over you.

“Growing up, I feel like my parents didn’t have many friends aside from each other. My mom told me that it’s because when you get older your priorities change and you realize who adds value to your life, and that’s who you decide to keep.” His eyes are glowing with sincerity, body blocking the flow of air from touching you at all “so when we’re older, and married with kids and other priorities, and we maybe live in different cities, do you think we’ll still be friends?”

You stare at him for a moment before shoving his face out of the way of the fans air stream.

“Definitely,” your confidence soothes him enough that he lays back down “if I ever muster up the creativity to come up with a reason to stop being your friend, you have to swear you’ll tell me how stupid I’m being, swear to me.” you smack his chest before he can even answer.

“I swear!” He smiles to himself, staring up at the ceiling with you, rubbing his hand over the warm spot where your hand made contact, melting into the mattress.

———

Growing up people always joked that Haechan and you would fall in love, that it was inevitable, practical even. Because, if you fall in love with your best friend you’ve already conquered one of the highest mountains - finding someone that you like, and who likes you back.

You had both seen the other in a relationship, an inevitability when you’ve been friends with someone since puberty. He’d cheered you on when you had your first kiss during a game of spin the bottle in high school, forced you to come out on double dates with him and a friend of his you didn’t even like just so he could take someone else out, and freshman year of college he’d even introduced you to the person you'd lost your virginity to.

The only time he cockblocked you was when you tried to get to know any of his friends more than platonically, so eventually you gave up and settled for real friendship with all of them.

“Trust me, you don’t want to touch him with a six foot pole.” He’d said freshman year when you had mentioned your attraction to his roommate, Mark.

“He seems so nice, though.” you pouted

“He is nice, but that doesn’t mean you want to be with him.”

“How would you know what I want?” you scoffed, and he looked at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Has the wind beneath my wings ever led you into the wrong arms?” He was highly animated, offended that you would question his judgment.

By the start of sophomore year it was obvious to everyone else that you were strictly off limits. All of his friends had decided unanimously that even if you did attempt anything with them they had no choice but to shut you down. The cold stare Haechan unknowingly serves them from across the room whenever they got too close was enough to keep them away. None of the boys ever minded the boundaries with you, there always was an ease in your friendship since they all knew it could never go further, but that didn’t mean they never thought about the possibility.

One night, at the end of junior year, Haechan is nowhere to be found at his own party and you graciously accept Jeno’s invitation upstairs when you complain of a headache, “we can play Mario Kart, and it won’t be all competitive like when Haechan plays with us.”

It starts like normal, and you're having fun when you realize that your tipsy brain can’t focus on the screen and the conversation simultaneously, opting for the latter as you relax into Jeno’s pillows. You don’t even notice him inching closer to you until his nose touches yours, tugging at a strand of your hair. This is the first time any of Haechan’s friends have shown interest in you, you’d never even been on the receiving end of a flirtatious stare from across the beer pong table, so you take the reins.

Kissing Jeno feels a little bit like winning, like you’ve finally made it past the invisible forcefield Haechan had put up around his friends. The kiss is lazy and hot, Jeno props himself up on one elbow and presses your back into the mattress with his chest. Your eager fingers run beneath his shirt, his abs tightening when you trail them over his sides. Your spine tingles when he groans into your mouth, the hand on your cheek moving to grip your knee and hike your leg over his hip. His hand holds strong around your thigh, and you sigh when he grinds into you.

Jeno pulls away too soon, stopping your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt with a pained sigh as he drops your leg to roll onto his back, flinging an arm over his eyes.

“Fuck, I should not be doing this with you.”

“Why, you don’t want to?” You want to curl into yourself, sitting up to stare down at his shaking head.

“No, definitely not that.” he pulls his arm away to meet your eyes, the alcohol in his veins making him brave enough to admit “Haechan would be pissed.”

“Haechan?” you question “did he say something to you?” Jeno groans, sitting up and hooking his elbows around his knees, staring at the mattress between his legs.

“No, no. He’s never actually said anything,” he knows he’s revealing too much, but he also knows he’s gone too far to stop “we just know he would never want us to cross that line with you.”

“We?” you can feel embarrassment bubbling in your chest at the idea of all of your friends talking about this.

“Yeah, you know, all the guys. We figured you were just off limits, I don’t know.” he grimaces, looking up at you with apologetic eyes when you don’t respond. You huff and climb off the bed, feeling rejected in more ways than one.

You’d crossed a boundary tonight, but Jeno was still a close friend, someone you’d spent a lot of time with since he met Haechan freshman year. He still knows you, so he grabs your wrist before you can leave, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed so he can stand you between his legs.

“I’m sorry, don’t be mad.” He envelops your hands in his and brings them to his chest.

“I’m not mad,” you mumble, avoiding his apologetic gaze “I’m embarrassed that all of my friends agreed not to touch me.”

“Did you really think not a single one of us was ever interested in you?” you shrug and he squeezes your hands tighter, heart tugging in his chest.

“When people don’t act interested, that’s usually a safe assumption.” you pout and Jeno’s laugh buzzes through your linked fingers "I gave up on all of you halfway through freshman year."

“Well, some of us are better actors than I remember.”

He has you laughing by the time you leave his room, sealing the night with one more self indulgent kiss and a pinky swear to never tell Haechan about what happened.

———

Halfway through the first semester of senior year Haechan bangs angrily on his roommates door before swinging it open and Jeno is genuinely shocked that it's taken this long for the gossip to hit his ears. The rest of the boys had clocked Jeno the next morning for being ‘too happy’ and he had to make them all swear not to tell, wanting to protect your pride and his own friendship with Haechan.

"You slut!" Haechan points an accusatory finger in Jeno's direction, dragging his feet slowly toward him until he's so close Jeno has to bat his hand out of his face.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Haechan's voice is low and angry, something new and unpleasant sparking in his gut at the idea of Jeno kissing you, touching you.

"No, I don't." Jeno can’t help but antagonize. Pleased with the perfect opportunity to trick Haechan into saying out loud what everyone else seems to have known for years.

"You kissed my best friend!" He shrieks, tossing his hands up in the air dramatically.

"So what, she's not allowed to kiss people?" Haechan squints his eyes at Jeno’s response, scrunching his nose in annoyance “how did you even find out?”

"She can kiss whoever she wants, it's all of you that aren't allowed to kiss her." Haechan waves his hand wildly toward the bedroom door, alluding to the large group of boys living in the house “you know Mark can’t keep a secret, he’s been bursting at the seams for months. All I had to do was ask.”

"It happened forever ago dude, why are you so pissed? You've never even given us a chance to get close to her in that way, maybe one of us could really like her." Jeno reasons, tugging at Haechan's strings, watching the gears in his brain turn as he tries to come up with a real argument.

"She has a boyfriend," Haechan finally says with a frown at the thought of the guy he’d only recently met, he doesn’t like him at all. From his stupid hair to the shoes he wears, there’s not a thing about your new boyfriend that Haechan thinks is good enough for you. He collapses into the gaming chair across from where Jeno is relaxed on the couch, not having moved at all since Haechan stormed in "plus, I think any of you would know by now, you've all known her for four years."

"I think, that it can take a lot longer than four years to realize how much you like someone." Jeno bites, "how long have you known her?"

"Since middle school." He picks at the hole in the knee of his black jeans, realizing what Jeno is alluding to, defensive exterior quickly crumbling.

"Right, I think that if you're blind enough then it can take ten years to realize how much you like someone."

"Well, maybe ten years is too long and that person missed their chance." Haechan turns his head to stare out the window, anxiously spinning the chair side to side.

"You know I'm talking about you, right?"

"God, yes, I know you're talking about me." Haechan glares at his friend, fidgeting stopping abruptly "and I know I've been a complete idiot about it, but like I said, I’m out of time."

———

Haechan can’t stop his free hand from clenching and unclenching as you sob into your pillow, his less angry hand rubbing over your back.

“He told me he saw us moving in together after graduation,” your voice shakes “how do you look someone in the eyes and say shit like that and then sleep with someone else?”

“I don’t know,” Haechan replies earnestly, feeling as helpful as flip flops in the snow from where he sits on the edge of your mattress “I’m so sorry.”

He takes your silence as an invitation, lying on his stomach, face turned toward you, fingers still drawing soothing circles over your shoulder blades. He waits patiently for you to calm down, unease swarming his stomach knowing that even after years of friendship he can’t truly comfort you in this moment.

“I’m so embarrassed.” you sniffle, smearing your face over your pillow before turning to look at him. He holds his breath, waiting for you to collect yourself enough to explain.

“I’m so gullible, he even told me he’s cheated in the past and for whatever reason I believed that he’d treat me differently, that he’d love me enough.” Haechan has to count to five in his head to stay calm before he speaks.

“You have no reason to be embarrassed. The most natural thing you can do is believe someone when they say they love you.” He murmurs, turning onto his side so he can pull you into a hug. When you curl into his body to bury your face in his chest he can only pray you can’t hear his heart pound against his ribs.

“He’s an idiot, and he didn’t deserve any of the love you gave him. I promise, you’re so much better off.”

Haechan hates the piece of himself that’s relieved your relationship has ended. The same piece that hated your ex the minute he met him, that feels heavy in your absence whenever you’re busy with anyone who isn’t him. The piece that crosses it’s fingers whenever you get this close in hopes that you’ll be the first one to cross the line, to finally do what he’s thought about doing for the last few months since he realized exactly how he felt about you.

“Thank you,” you mumble into his tear dampened shirt, lifting your leg over his to cuddle in even closer “thanks for always being my friend, even when I do dumb shit, like let boys be mean to me.”

He nuzzles his nose into your scalp, eyes fluttering shut at the smell of your shampoo “Thanks for letting me. Besides, even Beyoncé got cheated on, so you clearly aren’t that dumb.” the crowd in his brain cheers when you giggle into his chest.

“You’re so annoying.” He holds you even tighter.

———

“I can’t believe it,” your jaw drops and Haechan whips his head up nervously to look at you from across the couch

“What happened?”

“I got it, I got the job!” you shove his feet off your lap to jump up excitedly, bouncing on your toes as you read the email out loud. Haechan’s ears are ringing so loud he barely catches the first half, trying to shake off the dazed look he’s sure appears on his face.

“We were extremely impressed with your resume and even more so with the impression you left on the board during your interview, blah blah blah, excited to offer you this position, blah blah blah, and a relocation bonus to join us in in our new office!” the pitch of your voice rises a few octaves as you finish reading.

Haechan stares at you from his spot on the couch, eyes wide with shock that you’re too excited to notice, skimming your screen as you re-read the details in your offer letter.

His entire body is buzzing, torn between feeling excited at your accomplishment and sorry for himself.

He had a plan, a really good one, he thought. After your breakup you’d made it painfully clear that you wanted to be single for a while, and he knew if he could just be patient, it would all be worth it. So Haechan decided to bottle his feelings up, sitting patiently by your side where he had been for so many years, waiting for you to heal and hoping that when you were finally ready to start dating again he’d have mustered up the courage to make the first move.

“Lee Donghyuck, are you even listening to me!?” you drop your phone to pull him up off the couch, bouncing up and down with your fingers intertwined “I’m moving to my dream city, to start my dream job.” you reiterate and he snaps out of it, sweeping the imaginary shards of glass that his plan had been made out of under the rug and pulling you into a hug.

“That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you.”

“Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.” You deadpan, but squeeze him back just as tight.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to miss you is all.” He admits, "I'd follow you if my job didn't keep me here."

“I’ll make sure you don’t miss me too much, don’t worry.” you plant your cheek on his chest, surprised at the relief you feel in hearing him say it first.

———

This feeling was still a little unfamiliar, nerves. Haechan had never made you nervous growing up; excited, annoyed, passionate maybe, but never nervous.

The nerves began last summer, when he’d come out to visit you for the first time to celebrate his birthday. It was the longest you’d gone without seeing each other since you’d met, almost ten full months and the anticipation was palpable.

When he steps through the airport doors you think that it’s the relief of finally being near him again that knocks the wind out of you. Running into his open arms and being squeezed so tightly in them that you tap his shoulder to let you breathe. Ruffling his hair when he steps back and ignoring the fact that he had grown so much since you’d seen him last.

But as the night goes on, the slight changes to the person you have memorized become glaringly obvious. The way his cheeks have lost some of their cushion, revealing a sharp jaw and pointed cheekbones. The natural wave in his once unruly hair now falling perfectly over his brow bone, he had dyed it a little darker which made his tan skin glow even in dim lighting. Even his smell seemed to draw you into a trance, a much more expensive version of the Haechan you know.

“You know, that group of girls has been staring over at you since we walked in.” You raise your eyebrows playfully, pointing your glass toward the pretty gaggle that keeps walking past the booth you and Haechan occupy.

He doesn’t break eye contact with you before shrugging, “I didn’t come here to see them, I came to see you.” he smiles, punctuating his thought by reaching over the table and tapping your nose.

“I know, I know,” you laugh, batting him away “It never hurts to know when people are staring, though”

His face is unreadable as he rests his arm lazily up over the bench of the booth, body sinking into the seat while he lifts his glass to swirl his drink, biting the words that have been resting on the tip of his tongue the entire trip, and at the end of every phone call since you started your new job.

“How are you, seriously.” You push. In the time since you moved he’d started and ended a relationship with a girl that you’d never met. Your new job kept you so busy that you hadn’t even learned about the breakup until a week later, when you finally had the time to call him back. The guilt of your absence weighs you down, resenting your inability to be there for him the way he had been for you in the past.

“I’m over it, seriously.” You know he’s telling the truth, but it’s in your nature to pry.

“You never really talked about, why, you know.”

“Do I have to?”

“No, I’m sorry, I just feel so behind on your life.” You sigh and push your empty glass to the side, swirling your finger in the ring of cold water it leaves behind.

“It’s okay, really. You’ve been busy, I understand.” He reaches across the table to stop your anxious fingers “I didn’t love her the way I knew I should, that’s all. It’s a good thing that it ended, and I’m happy that it did.”

“That’s all that matters, then.” and he’s grateful that you drop the subject.

You eventually get back to your apartment, both giggly and flush from the alcohol still fogging your brain despite the long walk you'd hoped would lessen it. Haechan holds your hand the whole way back, even when he stops suddenly to pet a dog, dragging you down to the ground with him. He can’t help himself, grateful that at this point you'd touched one another in every way other than what he dreams about most, and you seem oblivious to his need to be so close to you.

As you get ready for bed he lets himself watch you undress facing the wall away from him, unaware of his gaze burning into your backside and the way his fingers tingle at the thought of pulling at the meat of your hips. He scolds his heart for thudding so loud when you squeeze your eyes into a smile at his reflection standing next to yours at the sink while you brush your teeth, the domestication of your friendship that he used to appreciate now suffocating him.

You put on a movie and invite him to rest his head on the pillow in your lap, wishing he could bury his nose into the skin of your thighs beneath it. Halfway through the movie he has to sit up to hide the way his cock is hardening at the feeling of your nails combing through his hair and down his shoulder, occasionally thrumming over his chest. He pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and tosses it over his legs as casually as possible, pulling you into his side by your shoulder, the other arm stretched across the back of the couch.

"Are you cold for the first time in your life?" Haechan never wants to use a blanket, but you’re grateful for the position giving you access to bury your face into his chest, gripping his shirt.

"No, just want to be warmer." he presses a blushing cheek onto the top of your head, trying to think of anything except the way your hair smells, or the feeling of the side of your breast brushing his wrist through your shirt. Haechan feels eighteen again and like he's discovering the connection between romantic and sexual feelings for the first time in his life. He tries to match his breathing to yours, holding his breath whenever you shift in his hold and reconnecting his stomach with your back as quickly as possible. The temptation to pour his heart out is overwhelming, but when he feels your body completely relax into his and your breathing slow down, the words become trapped in his throat, so he lets you sleep.

Haechan had never experienced a shorter 48 hours than that weekend he spent following you around the city you now call home.

You’re shining in your new space, and he happily trails behind you to all the places you’ve discovered in the almost year since you moved. His stomach does somersaults whenever you point something out that reminds you of him.

“I’ve been waiting to come here until you could come with me!” you're so excited to take him to the video game themed coffee shop that your co-workers had recommended “I thought about coming to see if it was even worth it, but I only want to play these kinds of games with you anyway.”

Sometimes he can forget about his feelings for you, when things are just as they always have been. You talk with and touch him the same, laugh at his jokes the same. He thinks that if he were to ever say out loud what he’s been feeling, that the two of you would still be the same but with a little More, ‘you guys’ but on steroids. So when everything is normal he can pretend like it‘a not. He can act like the More is there when you hold his hand to drag him around to the different machines, play games he wants to play even if you don’t want to, you even wipe ice cream off of his chin when his cone starts to melt because he’s talking too much to eat and he wonders why it took him so long to see it this way, and if you could too.

He keeps thinking the moment will come, when he’ll know spilling his guts to you is the right thing to do. But between you gushing over how much you love your new life and your willingness to point out every girl who has blinked at him this weekend, he completely loses the steam he’d gained during his flight, regardless of how his imagination runs wild with the More.

He curses himself the entire weekend for his lack of bravery, hoping that keeping his feelings in is the right decision. After his recent relationship crashed and burned because of his feelings for you he thought he had no choice but to come clean. But watching you, being with you in your new life makes him realize that his role in it hasn’t changed even if his feelings for you have.

The lump in his throat as he stands outside the departure doors is more than just sadness at the thought of leaving you, it’s the realization that he has to let the romantic idea of you go.

“How come you never cry when we have to leave each other,” you hiccup into his chest, and he coos your name lovingly.

“Don’t worry, you know I save my tears for the plane to make everyone in my row uncomfortable.” He knows that you hate that he’s making you laugh at a time like this, pulling away so you can swat his chest and he raises his hands in surrender.

“When will we be able to see each other again?”

“As soon as possible.” He nods reassuringly, wiping your tears with his thumb, heart pounding as he stares into your watering eyes “hey, you’re my best friend in the world, you annoy me every day, and I love you.”

“Whatever, I love you too.” you laugh, but his heart speeds up at the words that you’ve said to him thousands of times. You sweep your arms around him one last time before pushing him toward the airport doors “you better go, if you miss your flight I can’t guarantee I’ll let you leave at all.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He walks backwards slowly, staring at you with a ‘kicked puppy’ kind of face he mastered years ago and you wave enthusiastically, blowing loud kisses into the air that he catches and clutches to his heart.

“This is it,” he thinks, “this has to be it.”

———

Haechan is dreaming about you. He has been nightly ever since he got back from his birthday weekend. He’s grateful the dreams have variety, since some of them overwhelm him to the point of waking up and not being able to fall back asleep.

Sometimes, you’re young again and whenever anyone says “You know, it’s just a matter of time until one of you has a crush on the other.” you both theatrically gag, laughing at each other as if it were the most insane idea in the world. Or, you're sitting on his childhood couch watching your guys' favorite movie for the hundredth weekend in a row, vocalizing the parts of the two main characters and recreating all the best scenes.

Sometimes you’re at his apartment just hanging out together, which are dreams that feel so real he almost expects to see you in his kitchen when he wakes up. Most of these dreams spark a deja vu laced flame in his gut so deep he finds himself confusing them with memories. The ache of missing you wakes him up before his alarm some mornings, and he finds himself face timing you once he knows you're awake just to watch you make coffee and wash your face.

But sometimes, he has dreams that make him feel so ashamed he can barely text you back in the morning. Dreams where he reaches to touch you and you let him, where you tug at his hair and moan his name while he does all the things that he can only do to you in his sleep. He hates to say that these are his favorite, but it's the one dream he knows he'll never actually achieve and he goes to bed every night praying for them.

That’s the kind of dream he’s having when his phone buzzes him awake. He answers without looking because there are only a handful of people who can reach him when he’s on ‘do not disturb’, and you’re one of them. He hums a sleepy greeting into his phone, putting it on speaker next to his pillow and nearly drifting right back into the dream and between your thighs.

“Donghyuck” his eyes shoot open at the sound of your voice “did i wake you up?”

He can practically hear the pout in your voice, squinting at the time on his phone, “Yes, it’s three in the morning,” he stares down to where he’s half hard, running an embarrassed hand over his face even though there’s no possible way for you to know “are you okay?”

“No, well technically yes but I miss you which means things could be better.” you slur your words and Haechan smiles, somehow he's never annoyed that you call him pretty much every time you drink. He thinks it's because he's familiar with this version of you, though he definitely hasn't seen it often since college graduation. This version of you loves him hard, and is never afraid to say it.

"I miss you too," he takes a beat before adding "I was dreaming about you just now."

You gasp excitedly "Really! What were we doing." He smirks at the thought of telling you that you had been sitting on his face, hand reaching back for his cock while he guides your cunt over his tongue until you were shaking above him.

"Just, hanging out." he shrugs. It's his second time this week alone dreaming of your clit bumping his nose, and the thought makes his mouth water.

"I don't believe you." You say accusingly "that's way too boring for a mind like yours to dream up."

"What exactly is my mind like?" He yawns, throwing his forearm over his eyes.

"Oh, you know," you hum "your mind is a galaxy, with at least a billion planets and twice as many stars. I wish I could fly into your head and explore it, but NASA doesn't have the funds."

Haechan holds his breath at your compliment, the smile on his face so wide he can hear it in his own voice "That sounds like an episode of Magic School Bus."

"Your brain is definitely cooler than some cartoon, it's pretty much my favorite place on Earth."

"How would you know, you've never actually been inside?" He shakes his head, teasing you gently. Hearing words like these come out of your mouth breaks his heart and glues it back together at the same time.

"Are you saying you never think about me?" you ask him, not an ounce of sarcasm in your voice.

"I think about you all the time, I promise, all the planets in my brain are shaped like you." You hum, pleased with his response. He shuts his eyes and waits for your answer.

"Yeah, all the planets in mine are shaped like you, too." you pause for a second and add "plus all the stars, I win, I think about you more."

———

This time when Haechan comes to visit you, you know the nerves are more than just excitement at seeing your best friend. It’s a feeling that is nestled so deep in your stomach it makes you a little nauseous. You haven't seen him since you went home for the holidays and he only has one night in the city. You find yourself grueling over your reflection in the mirror, not used to being self conscious in front of him. You’re only going out for happy hour, but you put yourself together to last all night.

When Haechan finally arrives he whistles lowly, making you blush when he pulls out of your hug and requests a spin.

“I appreciate that you got so dressed up for me.” He teases, hoping you don’t catch his eyes sweeping over your legs, wanting to commit you in this dress to memory.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes as if you hadn’t spent the last two hours making sure you looked as perfect as possible. Hoping he doesn’t see the pile of clothes shoved into your closet from all the failed attempts.

“Never,” he grabs your purse off of the counter and opens the door, sweeping his arm out in front of him dramatically “after you. There are some strangers outside who are waiting to catch a glimpse of you, they just don’t know it yet.”

“You are so dramatic.” You lock the door behind you, using the moment facing away from him to collect yourself. Lately you catch yourself wondering if he'd always been so flirtatious, or if you're just forcing meaning behind his words because of how badly you want him to be.

“What, a guy can’t compliment his best friend?”

You smile widely at him and grab your bag out of his grasp, popping your key inside and walking toward the entrance of your building. Praying your fingers stop shaking when you finally get a drink in you. Haechan throws his arm around your shoulders while you walk down the street to your favorite cocktail bar and you're grateful for his usual chatter, talking to you about work and his slow climb up the ladder.

“They put me in a hotel this time, so you don’t have to worry about making me breakfast in the morning.” He smiles at you, sipping his drink gingerly.

“You know I never cook you breakfast.” He feels so far away across the table and you wish that you were sitting next to him instead, shoulders cold without the weight of his arm around them. It feels so good to have him touch you, to feel like you're his. There's a small part of you that feels guilty for using his knack for physical affection to your advantage, he has no idea what the heat of his skin on yours does.

“I know, but all the meetings are in the hotel anyway so it’s easier this time to just stay there.”

You try not to let yourself visibly deflate at the news, wanting to keep him for yourself the whole time he’s in town. His knee presses against yours under the table and you focus all your energy into acting the way you would have before, but you can’t focus on anything else and cross your legs to pull away from him as casually as possible. As badly as you want to touch him, sometimes you can’t.

“What time do you have to be up?”

He groans, leaning back enough that his knee now slides against your shin, “too early,” and glances down at his now empty glass, motioning to the bartender for another “which means you need to drink faster, so I can stop at a reasonable hour.”

You smile, downing the rest of your drink in one gulp, when his foot taps against yours you know it's going to be a long night.

The end of the night finds you together on your couch with a shared bottle of wine sitting empty on the coffee table, his early meetings temporarily forgotten. You and Haechan have been in this position plenty of times, drunk, slap happy and overly touchy in a way that you had always been comfortable being with one another. The difference now is you, this version of you who wants your best friend in an entirely different way.

Every time he pulls you closer you feel electricity shoot straight to your heart so intensely that you have to duck out of his grasp. You don’t know what to do with the feelings that have been growing gradually from your toes up, now practically sprouting out of your scalp with a neon sign blinking “I’m in love with you” over and over.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Haechan whines when you all but flinch away from his hand reaching for his phone near your arm. He’d been aware of it all night, the space you left between the two of you while you walked back from the bar, your sudden inability to maintain the eye contact that he craved. The complete lack of physical touch makes him feel dejected.

“Doing what?” You give him a panicked look, practically sober at the thought of being found out, of what it would feel like to be rejected by him.

“You’re not letting me touch you,” he frowns, and the alcohol buzzes through your veins again “not that you need to let me, but you only avoid it like this when you’re upset. Did I do something?” he pouts, tired eyes low when he flops his head onto his bicep resting on the back of the couch. You forget to breathe for a second when he looks up at you under dark lashes.

“I’m not upset. I wasn’t doing it on purpose.” you’re lying through your teeth, but scoot an inch closer to him to make your point. He doesn’t look convinced, and if you’d had less to drink you may have noticed the mischievous glint in his eye before he grabs you by your arm, knocking you off balance and into his chest.

“See,” he sighs happily, wrapping his arms around your body and you can feel his chest buzz when he hums, cheek pressed to the top of your head. You have no choice but to ungracefully shift your lower body closer to him, making yourself a sponge and soaking in his familiar touch “isn’t that better?”

You nod, “Yes, it is better.” and you really wish he didn’t know you so well, that even in his fifth hour of being drunk he can read your mind. He pulls your ear off his heart to grab your cheeks, smushing them together and whispering your name with a shake of his head.

“What is it?” he urges, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist to loosen his grip. You shut your eyes, take a deep breath and count to three in your head before you can talk yourself out of leaning forward and pressing your lips to his.

You feel him falter for a half second before he’s kissing you back, pulling your face closer and pushing his body toward yours. You can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears when his tongue touches yours, and then suddenly his mouth is gone. He moves so quick you have to put your arms out to stop yourself from face planting into the cushion he had just been sitting on.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” you gasp “i shouldn’t have done that, Haechan, I’m so sorry.”

It takes everything in you to look up to where he’s now standing with his arms crossed over his chest protectively. You have no idea what he’s thinking, staring down at you with wide eyes. Insecurity sweeps through you under his intense gaze, and you almost beg him to say something.

“I’m seeing someone,” the way the confession rings in your ears would have you believing that he screamed the words, but his voice was barely above a whisper “shit, I’m sorry.”

You aren’t sure if it’s your life that flashes before your eyes, or your years of friendship with him, at this point the two tend to blur together.

“That’s-” you sit back on your calves and inhale shakily, knowing it’s not even worth it to attempt to fake any sort of excitement for him “why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs, swallowing thickly and pulling his eyes away from your face to stare at the ceiling “It’s new and I didn’t know how. It just never came up.”

“Well then, I’m sorry that it didn’t. I shouldn’t have done that, I don’t know what came over me.” grateful that he’s finally the one avoiding eye contact with you so he doesn’t see your legs wobble when you stand “probably best to pretend that never happened. I’m just drunk and I missed you-”

Your name sounds so pathetic when he says it this time and you think it’s the eighth wonder of the natural world that you haven’t started crying yet. You shake your head instead, wishing so desperately that you had changed out of the dress you were wearing as you pull the slinky material down your thighs.

“Honestly, Haechan,” You regret your next words before they even hit the air “you should probably go. You have an early morning.”

The shock on his face pains you, but you can’t stand to see what you can only assume is pity growing in his eyes for another second.

“I don’t want to go, I want to talk about this.”

“I’m sorry.” you say again and his shoulders slump in defeat, recognizing that you’d made up your mind.

“It’s okay.” He means it, shuffling forward and the look on your face is nearly enough to bring him to his knees. His breath catches when you shift away the inch he moved toward you, eyes locked on his and he can see the desperation in them before he hears it in your voice.

“Text me when you get to the hotel?” your voice cracks with a heavy mix of exhaustion and embarrassment that makes him nods once, grabbing his things and walking slowly toward your door. He turns to look at you, but his words catch in his throat when he sees your eyes begin to water, mustering up all his energy to offer what he prays is a reassuring smile before letting himself out.

You sink back into the couch when the door clicks shut, head hanging in your hands as the tears finally start to flow. You cry so hard you feel like you could throw up, replaying his rejection over and over in your mind, shame and regret coursing through your veins. Pure embarrassment heats your body at the look on his face when he told you he was seeing someone, and you’re not sure if it was disgust or pity in his eyes.

On top of the rejection, knowing that he didn’t feel like he could share something as big as meeting someone with you was a dagger to the heart, up until recently you had never kept a secret from him, and even this one you clearly couldn’t keep in for long.

You force yourself into the shower, scrubbing angrily at your skin under the scalding water. You get out once your fingers have pruned and your skin feels raw, avoiding the mirror on your way to your bedroom. You kick angrily at the dress you'd left on the floor, watching it land near the pile of outfits you had discarded while getting ready.

Haechan had texted you nearly thirty minutes earlier

“made it back”

you give it a thumbs up before turning your phone off, setting an alarm with the clock on your side table and letting the emotional exhaustion lull you to sleep.

------

Haechan is realizing that there is no way in hell that you need space more than he needs to talk to you. He tries to call you multiple times the first week after you kissed him but you never answered, and Haechan doesn’t want to push you to the point of no return. What he really wants is to go back in time and not leave you that night, but the pain in your eyes was so pronounced he couldn't bare to make it any worse. The only physical proof that you had kissed him at all being the stupid blue thumbs up on the text he had sent you that night. It's followed by a slew of reassuring texts, saying that he broke up with his girlfriend and if you would please just talk to him, that he's not mad.

This is the feeling he carries with him nearly two weeks later on the flight to you, when he’s sure that another minute of silence from you will kill him. By the time he gets to your apartment it’s almost midnight, so he knocks loud enough to wake you up.

When you open the door in a shirt he thinks might be his, Haechan knows he has no choice. He's speaking before you can say anything, before he can change his mind.

"I came here to tell you that I think you're being really stupid." He curses internally for the obvious nerves in his voice, your tired eyes widen with shock at his words.

"Excuse me?"

"Years ago you made me swear that I would tell you if you ever came up with a reason not to be my friend anymore. So I'm telling you now, I think you're being really fucking stupid."

"I'm not doing that" You defend yourself, tearing up at the sight of him. He pushes into your apartment, shutting the door behind him and standing close enough to touch. He’s staring you down with pleading eyes, and you bury your face in your hands so you don’t have to look at him.

“Then why are you ignoring me? Why won’t you let me fix this?”

“I don’t know I just,” you inhale shakily “I don't know how to do it right now, not like this."

"Like what?" He hopes he already knows the answer, but needs to hear you say it, to know that you’re as serious as he is. Your mouth feels full of cotton when he forces you to look at him by whispering your name, pulling your hands from your face and his heart pinches tightly at the tears welling in your eyes "please tell me, please. Like what?"

"You already know," your bottom lip betrays you, voice weak beneath heavy emotion when you speak "I love you, Haechan. I'm in love with you, and I don't know what to do about it. I feel like I fucked everything up, but I can’t undo it."

He feels his lungs fill with relief. Haechan steps forward to close the small gap between your bodies, grabbing your jaw to rest his forehead against yours. You falter, but his hand on the small of your back keeps you from going anywhere, he's practically panting and you can barely stand, dizzy with the feeling of him. You want to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming when he whispers "You didn't fuck anything up."

He ghosts his lips over yours for a moment until he's sure you're not going to stop him. When he finally kisses you it's with years of pent up adoration, directing your arms around his neck and pressing his thumb firmly into your jaw, long fingers wrapping around the side of your throat. He practically whines when your fingers tighten in his hair and your lips part for his warm tongue. His arm wraps around your waist so tightly you have to hinge backward to keep your mouths connected, gasping at the strength you didn't know he had.

He keeps your stomach flush to his own and kisses you until you're practically limp in his arms, pulling away to breathe. His eyes are shut as he rubs his nose over yours

"I love you, too. I've been meaning to tell you for a while." All the blood rushes into your ears at his words and you can't stop your biggest worry from spilling into the air.

“What if you change your mind?”

“I made up my mind a long time ago, there's nothing you could do to change it." He blinks his eyes open, pulling his face away from yours just enough to see you, the trepidation in your eyes makes him say your name quietly.

"It's only me, you know me," he assures you in a hushed tone "you have to know by now that you are my entire world."

You could laugh, only him, as if he hasn’t been one of the most important people in your life since the day you met. As if he isn’t someone who has seen you at every stage of it so far. It’s Haechan, who has always been funny, who has witnessed the worst sides of you and never made you feel bad, who has never left your side.

You kiss him again, fingers wrapping in tight fists around his shirt to keep yourself grounded. Haechan’s heart pounds happily in his chest and he hopes you can feel it this time, both hands nestling into your hair. He kisses you gently in an effort to slow down your urgent movements, moaning at the taste of your mouth. You fall into his rhythm easily, the way his tongue rolls gently over yours makes your body go up in flames. You move your hands to slide beneath his shirt, landing on the strong muscles in his back and teasing your fingers up his sides.

When you finally come up for air he stares at you for a minute before laughing, stomach tightening beneath your fingers when he does.

"What's funny?" you shut your eyes, leaning your forehead into his chest, letting the pretty sound ring in your ears.

"Nothing, I'm just-" he cuts himself off with a shrug, nuzzling his nose into the crown of your head "I love you, and you love me back. That's all, that's how easy it is."

"It hasn't been easy at all, in fact my life has been very very hard since your birthday last year.” He pulls away from your head to ogle at you.

"My birthday last year?" You nod, feeling your cheeks flush under his intense gaze, it had really been that long "God, I'm sorry I'm such a fucking idiot."

He's kissing you again before you can ask him to elaborate, grabbing hold of both wrists in one hand while he walks you backward and guides you up onto the counter as slowly as he has to in order to keep his lips on yours. His hips are the perfect height for you to wrap your legs around, gasping in surprise when he slides his hands around your ass and presses your core tightly against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You feel shy when you pull away to ask if he wants to go to your bedroom, feeling frozen in place when he stares at you with half lidded eyes, his plump lips swollen and red.

"Tonight, I'm just kissing you." Every cell in his body is screaming in protest at his own words. He can't express how badly he wants to do everything else, to recreate his dreams, to learn the parts of your body he'd never seen before. But he can't imagine doing anything but this tonight, just this; his lips on yours, your breath in his lungs and your body melting into his.

"Why?” your eyebrows pull together in confusion. You practically shiver with need, tucking your arms between your stomachs and burying your nose in his throat. His laugh buzzes against your face, rubbing his hands gently over your shoulders and trying to control his own breathing as your lips brush over his skin.

All he can say is, “Because I’ve been needing to for a long time.”

“How long?” You pull away from his chest, leaning back onto your hands and closing your eyes when he runs his own down your sternum and over your waist, groping at the flesh of your hips and trying not to regret his romantic side.

“Way too long.”

“Your birthday?” you ask, tugging gently at his shirt. He plants his hands outside of your legs to lean in close, one corner of his mouth pulling up.

“Much longer.” Your eyes widen in shock, and he interrupts you before you can question him “can we talk about it later? I have something really important to do tonight.”

———

He tells you that he's had feelings for you since senior year of college, when you kissed Jeno. He tells you about his plan to admit everything when he had seen you on his birthday, but that he was too scared. He assures you he ended his relationship the moment he got back home the previous week “because everyone has felt like a matter of 'when' it will end, not 'if',” He tells you that just two weeks of your silence hurt worse than any previous heartbreak, and you agree. And before you fell asleep next to him he tells you again, ‘I'm so in love with you.’ and shimmies excitedly when you say it back before kissing you until you can barely keep your eyes open. He holds your cheeks in his hands and practically lulls you to sleep with his tongue, plush lips pressing to yours so gently you can hardly feel them dotting around the rest of your face. He thinks he could do this forever before sleep finally catches up with him, his arm slung over your side to hold your face to his chest.

You wake up curled into a familiar side, your first emotion being giddy as the night floods back to you. Despite your obvious willingness to go further, Haechan had meant it when he said he'd only be kissing you. It made you crazy at first, but when the two of you were staring at each other in the mirror with shy eyes while moving through a nighttime routine you had gotten familiar with years before, you were happy he had the self control you clearly lack. The idea of him actually seeing and touching you in ways he never had before, of doing all the things you'd found yourself imagining him doing over the last year; it was overwhelming. Kissing until your jaw was sore and your lips were swollen felt easy.

You’re startled by Haechan’s hand reaching for yours, holding your palm and bringing your fingers to his lips to press a kiss to each one, “good morning.” his voice is deep and tired, mouth landing on the crown of your head.

"Good morning." You press your nose into his chest happily, gripping his hand in yours and resisting the urge to squeal with delight.

"What are you so excited about, me?" He teases, hand falling on your thigh to guide your leg up the front of his, stopping just below his crotch and you hope he's going to give you what you'd been wanting all night, for the last year.

"You, I just can't believe how happy I am." You admit, lifting your head off of his chest to smile at him. He pulls you right back down, kissing your lips once before rolling you both over so he's on top of you. He presses a hand over your collarbone and drags his lips down your chin and over your throat.

"You know, this means you're all mine now." he smirks against your neck when you nod, gasping when he sucks gently at the base. He has one forearm on the mattress, the other hand too gentle on your ribs. You can feel that he's hard and you immediately roll your hips up.

"Does this mean you're gonna do more than just kiss me now?" you intend to sound confident, but it comes out as a whimper. His nose brushes over your jaw before he presses lingering kisses to your chin and cheek.

"Yes, baby, if you'll let me." You nod eagerly, shifting your face so your lips are beneath his and sighing happily when he lowers his weight onto your torso, licking into your mouth. You shiver with anticipation when he pushes at your shirt, long fingers tickling up your side before landing on your breast. You gasp into his mouth when his thumb brushes over your already hard nipple.

Your impatience is overwhelming, grabbing the back of his shirt and tugging it up to his shoulders. He pulls away reluctantly, reaching one hand toward his back and pulling his shirt over his head. You gnaw at your lip, running your hands over his stomach and hooking your knees around his hips as much as you can while stretching your arms over your head.

“Cute.” he murmurs, pulling your shirt up and tossing it to the side. He gropes at your chest, tongue wetting his lips before he leans down to wrap them around one of your nipples. He’s trying to act without thinking, to let the dreams he’s had pave the path down your body because he knows the second he acknowledges his nerves he won’t be able to shake them off. His heart thrums when you gasp above him, arching your chest into his mouth. He’s greedy for your sounds, his hands squeezing your breasts together and licking between them to get to the other nipple. When your hips buck up into his he groans, pulling away from your chest and staring down at you with wondering eyes.

“Can I?” He feels unnaturally shy, leaning back on his calves and watching his fingers press dimples into the flesh of your hips above your underwear, tugging at the hem.

“You don’t need to ask.” He smiles, forcing you to sit by grabbing the back of your neck for a kiss. His fingers press into your clothed core and your hips roll into his hand. He sighs into your mouth at your desperation, torn between teasing you and touching you everywhere.

You can’t keep your legs from shutting around his arm when he pushes your panties to the side and slides his middle and ring finger up your wet center, circling over your clit.

You pull away from the kiss, blinking up at him and your mouth falls open when he presses firmly on your clit, rubbing in slow circles. His head hangs as he lets out a quiet “fuck” at your reaction, moving his hand off your neck to stroke over your stomach and without it behind your head you have to lie back, he presses your legs open. Haechan stares at your chest while he settles between your knees, pushing two fingers inside your dripping core. His jaw hangs open, watching his knuckles disappear inside of you.

“So soft,” he breathes, staring down to where his fingers glisten when he pulls them out to rub over your clit again, palming over his cock getting harder in his sweats “want to be everywhere at once.”

“Want you everywhere.” you whine when his fingers pull away to hook into your underwear, tugging them down your legs. Haechan stands to strip and you hold your breath and soak in the soft swell of his hip that leads to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs. It’s pretty like the rest of him, and thicker than you'd expected with a leaking tip that matches the color of his tongue, he strokes himself once and you don’t get the chance to reach for him before he lays back on the bed, rolling you to sit on top of him. You shudder when your pulsing clit rubs over his stomach, inner thigh squeezing into his ribs. He runs his hands up your waist, scooting you an inch higher and grabbing onto your tits.

“Do you remember a few months ago, when you called me drunk and I told you I was dreaming about hanging out with you?” He shivers when you grind down in response, wet pussy sliding easily over his skin “I lied.”

Your hands press into his chest, tilting your head “what were we doing?” you can barely speak above a whisper when he pinches gently at your nipple with one hand, the other rubbing over your ribs when he smirks up at you.

“You were about a foot higher than you are right now,” you gasp and reach out to grab the headboard when he jolts his hips to move you up his chest, staring down at him with wide eyes as he shifts to wrap his arms under your legs, fingers pressing into your thighs.

“You dreamt about this?” you let him bring your hips to hover over his face, hands falling into his hair when he brushes his nose over your clit as he nods.

“All the time,” he moans and drags you down onto his face, lips wrapping around your clit. You shudder above him, letting some of your weight collapse into your heels and he groans happily at the pressure of you on his chin, pressing you harder onto his mouth to fuck his tongue into you. He wants to devour you, every sound you make goes straight to his cock which is already rock hard at the taste and smell of you. Even just thinking about the fact that it's your hips grinding over his face right now is enough to make him moan into your pussy.

You slur out praise, one of your hands shooting up to grip the headboard. His hands wander gently up your sides, eyes opening to stare up to where he plays with your tits, hard cock pulsing at the sight of your head thrown back, hips moving in gentle circles over his face. Haechan’s hand tugs yours down to his hair, trying to restrain himself from thrusting into the empty air at the feeling of you all over him. He hums happily into your pussy when you start to grind over his mouth, flattening his tongue for you to ride until your legs are shaking.

He lets out a deep “mmhmm” when you warn him that you’re going to cum, suckling hard on your clit until you’re practically begging him to let you go, body crumpling forward with both hands tangled in his hair. He's grateful you didn't touch his cock, just the thought of your fingers wrapped around him is enough to make him cum and he has other plans.

You can’t speak when you collapse onto the mattress beside him, immediately warmed by the weight of his body on top of yours as he slots himself between your thighs, sucking a hickey onto the front of your throat.

“Taste too fucking good,” he hums, mouthing over your chin and cheek “been dreaming of eating your sweet pussy for so long.” you practically swoon when he kisses you, pre-cum wetting the inside of your thigh when he relaxes his stomach onto yours.

“Hyuck, want you in me, please” Your vision is blurry, whining into his swollen lips. He works them over your cheek before pulling away from you, bringing one of your legs up to his shoulder and you rest the other knee on his hip. He can feel himself pant when he taps the head of his cock on your swollen clit, practically drooling when he sticks barely the tip inside before pulling back and repeating the tantalizing motion.

“Been waiting for too long to be teased,” you pout, trying to encourage his hips toward yours with the ankle he’s not pressing his cheek into. He smirks and circles his leaking tip over you again, watching his cock spread your arousal around before he pushes into you a little further.

“I’m taking my time with you, feels so fucking good.” He can’t look away from between your thighs, messy hair hanging over his forehead while his fingers grip your ankle tightly. You whimper when he pulls all the way out again, one more hard tap against your pulsing clit before he pushes himself halfway into your leaking pussy. You rise onto your elbows, trying to reach one hand to grab for his hip but he releases the base of his cock to stop you by lacing your fingers together. When Haechan finally looks into your eyes he bottoms out, stretching your leg toward your chest so he can lean in. His hips stutter, a choked groan rumbling deep in his chest.

“Oh my god, Hyuck please.” you beg him to move with a gasp. His forehead presses to your chin, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Fuck, baby, been needing you," he thrusts into you slowly, lifting his head to look down at you glowing beneath him with your eyes shut. He pulls out all the way before thrusting back inside, quickening his hips when your eyes flutter open, the look on your face enough to make his balls tighten slightly, shutting his eyes to regain self control "knew you'd feel so fucking good."

"M’so full, Haechan." you moan at his words and the rapid slap of his hips on the back of your thighs, forcing your eyes to stay open so you can see his face. The way his nose scrunches with focus when he pulls away from your chest, both his hands wrapping firmly around your hips while he watches his cock sink into you. Brown, shaggy hair sticks to his damp forehead, full lower lip taken between his teeth. He’s pure, unadulterated boyish beauty, and he’s all yours.

You squeak when he lets your leg drop off his shoulder, pressing your thigh as far open as it will go with your heel digging into his backside. He fans his fingers over your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to push your clit side to side and your hips tuck up for more pressure, Haechan moans loudly when the movement causes you to clamp around his cock, "Perfect fucking pussy, can't believe it's mine now. Like my fingers on your pretty clit?”

You nod enthusiastically, letting go of your breasts to hold the backs of your thighs, Haechan's eyes move up your body to stare at your chest move beneath him, nipples looking sweet as candy. He’s dying to sink his fingers into the softest part of your stomach, the way you’re moving for him makes his mind turn to sand. You stare down to where his thumb is making circles over your clit, perfectly timed with the head of his cock bruising your g-spot. You feel a second orgasm build and the corner of his mouth pulls up proudly when your legs shake. Your head hangs back as you gasp for air, "yes, please, Haechan feels so fucking good."

"Make the prettiest noises for me, want you cumming all over my cock." he leans forward just enough to trap your throat beneath the weight of his palms, other hand still moving over your swollen clit. You smile at the pressure of his body on yours, eyes fluttering shut while you moan. You nod desperately when he asks if you can do that, "if you can let me make you feel that good, please, my pretty girl."

He takes his hand off your throat when you cum, wanting to hear every sound you could possibly make. You repeat his name like a blessing that has him cumming with you, moaning and breathless as his hips start to slow, milking you both through your orgasms.

You wrap your arms around him when he pulls out of you, reveling in the feeling of him when he lowers himself down, burrowing his face into your neck and warming your skin with his breath. You hold him there for a minute until he pulls his head up, dopey smile lighting up his eyes and making you laugh.

“What?” you scrunch your nose at him “better than your dreams?”

He nods, “so much better, best I ever had, my body belongs to you now.” he smirks at his own words, but his tone is so gentle he can’t even call it a joke.

“Just your body?” you tease, and he leans his nose onto your lips for a kiss that you carry onto the mole under his eye.

“Body, mind, heart, soul,” he sighs happily when you cup his cheeks in your hands, kissing him gently “all the planets in my head.”

"All the planets in my head too."

————

masterlist

authors note // this ended up being much longer than i anticipated, maybe the longest one shot i’ve ever actually written! i appreciate everyone who voted for happy ending because when i was originally thinking of a sad ending it was too hard lol. this feels forever unfinished because there is so much good to this version of haechan, i adore him.

[1:32pm] “oh yeah!” boyfriend!donghyuck exclaims loudly as the huge screen in the baseball stadium becomes illuminated with the image of your faces surrounded by a pink heart and the words ‘kiss cam’. while you’re paused in momentary shock, donghyuck grabs you by the waist and lifts you out of your chair before suddenly dipping you and crashing his lips on yours in a rather passionate kiss. the crowd cheers and whistles at the two of you ; you almost can’t believe the extra-ness of the situation but in the end it was donghyuck.

what else did you expect?

oh my angel!

pairing: angel!donghyuck x ballerina!reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 9.3k

synopsis: after losing your role as the sugar plum fairy in the nutcracker due to an injury, you resolve to the spend the rest of your holidays getting drunk and feeling sorry for yourself—that is until your pesky guardian angel shows up, claiming that he’ll find you true love before christmas is over.

author’s note: part of the haechan is a ho ho ho holiday collab! i’m so happy we’re finally able to collab, even if we all suffered while writing this <33333 ps. i only took ballet for two years so i am not an expert by any means, apologies for all inaccuracies 

additional: inspired by the concept of the kdrama angel’s last mission: love (i haven’t actually seen it though LMAO) + the ost oh my angel by chai

❄ DECEMBER 22.

“You have ten seconds to tell me who you are and how you got in here.” 

You’re currently in the middle of a standoff with a stranger in the middle of your living room. A stranger that literally just appeared out of thin air while you were watching Netflix. Raising the wooden bat a little higher over your head, you take a step forward, trying to look as threatening as possible despite how bewildered you are right now. The stranger, or rather the intruder, raises both in hands in surrender. He doesn’t look particularly afraid of you, but he does seem to want to calm you down. 

If you were to go off appearances alone, he would be the last person you’d think would break into someone’s apartment. He has light brown, fluffy hair that reminds of you a labradoodle, wide and bright eyes that blink at you innocently, cherub cheeks that add to his already youthful appearance, and he’s wearing a white hoodie with white sweatpants. There’s also a warm, circular glow above his head, but you just assume that it’s the lighting reflecting off his hair. 

“I already told you,” he starts slowly, “My name is Donghyuck. I’m your guardian angel.” 

You eye him suspiciously. It’s strange because you can tell by his expression that he is being sincere, or at least he believes he’s being sincere. 

“Sir,” you speak to him slowly as well, “I think you’re under the influence of something. I’ll call an ambulance for you.” 

“Come on, Y/N. We’re just wasting time now. The sooner you accept it, the sooner I can help you,” Donghyuck sighs. “You know it’s not possible for a human to materialize into your apartment like I did.” 

Before you can ask him how he knows your name, he walks over to your couch and plops down on it, reaching for the open bag of chips on your coffee table and helping himself to them. 

Even though he didn’t come anywhere near you, his sudden movement frightens you and you jolt backwards, rolling your good ankle and nearly losing your balance. 

“Careful now. Wouldn’t want you to have two broken ankles,” Donghyuck notes casually, still munching on your chips. 

You stare at him in disbelief. The brace you have on your right ankle is hidden under your fleece pajama pants, so there is no way that he was able to notice that you’re already injured.

“How do you know that?” you demand, clutching your bat tighter. 

“Because I’ve been watching you,” he replies breezily before pausing, furrowing his brows. “Oh wait, that didn’t sound right.” 

Afficher davantage

at your earliest convenience

✩‌ haechan x reader | fluff | 1.3k

SUMMARY | in which haechan is always your one (and annoying) late-night customer at the 24/7 convenience store you work at and one evening, he forgets his wallet. in lieu of payment, he asks if he can take you out on a date instead. // part of the connection series

WARNINGS | slightly insecure reader, none really!

RATING | teen+

AUTHOR'S NOTE | please check out (and maybe send in some prompt requests) @nctpromptmeme!

You ring him up, like clockwork. 

The scanner picks up a bag of the Korean brand onion rings, two Red Bulls, and an instant noodle cup.  

He’s the only consistent man in your life, ignoring the fact that the sole reason why he’s in your life is because he always comes into the 24/7 convenience store you work at during late, sometimes ungodly, hours. Tonight, it’s not that bad: 1:53am. 

Rarely, no one else strolls in during your shift (and you’re grateful it’s a safe neighbourhood). 

However, this young man lives to make your shift a painful one. 

Usually with ruffled hair, transparent-framed glasses, and a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, he saunters in as if he owns the store, often swinging his keys or obnoxiously whistling along to the song playing in the background. From the moment he steps into the store, his existence alone irks you. 

Unsurprisingly, he then takes a solid ten minutes on average (yes, you’ve timed it) to buy his items. Whistling evolves into screeches or emphatic oohs and aahs. Sometimes, he even narrates the entire process, as if he's the main character in a show. And yet, despite it all, he ends up buying the same rotation of his favourite items. 

If not the onion rings, the shrimp crackers. If not the Red Bulls, the bottles of Monster instead. He may be grabbing one cup of noodles tonight, but other times it’s three. Potentially even a completely different brand, if he’s feeling adventurous.   

On that note, predictability is in his nature. You plead internally for him to live a little, to maybe even spice up his night with a little change, for crying out loud. Heck, maybe even change the grey or black t-shirt he always wears to a shade that’s not a neutral tone or to put on a jacket for once. 

And the cherry on top is the constant annoying smirk he flashes when you tell him his total. 

You want to punch it off his face, smear it across the shiny floors with the dirty mop water you use at the beginning and end of shift.  

“How are you doing tonight, gorgeous?” he asks. Sometimes gorgeous is replaced with beautiful or cutie. It only adds to his annoyance of regularity and you have an itch he does this all the time with others, making you not take his typical endearing terms seriously.  

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “I’m not gorgeous, but, as always, thank you for the compliment.” 

His smirk melts, and you catch yourself feeling a tinge of something as his features soften. 

“You are, though,” your regular says. You quickly glance up, wondering if that pout and look in his eyes are genuine. “You know that I call you gorgeous because I mean it, right?” 

You’re unsure how to react, so you give a small nod and repeat the total, softly this time.

There’s a beat when the man gets lost in thought, but the moment quickly fades. He reaches into his sweatpants. However, he stops abruptly, before he reaches in again and pats the outside of his other pockets. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. You realize two things: one, you’ve never heard him curse; and two, he doesn’t have his wallet.

Well, that surely is different than usual.

Instinctively, you pull the snacks toward you. 

“Don’t you dare think I’m letting you walk away with everything for free,” you say, half-jokingly. Even though you’re 80% certain you can trust him, you still don’t know what he’s like.  

He smiles sweetly, quite differently than his smirks, forcing you to admit he’s handsome (just a little). “How could you expect me to stoop that low?” he whine-asks, clutching his chest in pain. 

After a moment of staring up at the ceiling in thought with his tongue running against his lower teeth, a Cheshire grin spreads over his face and he raises an eyebrow.

You don’t like it one bit and regret the moment earlier, mentally punching yourself for finding him a tiny bit attractive. 

“How about…”—he pauses as he rhythmically taps his fingers onto the counter—“...you let me take you out on a date in exchange for these items?” 

A scoff releases into the air. “Are you really telling me I’m only worth $11.87?” 

“What—no! Of course not,” he flicks a wrist upward in annoyance, then gestures to himself. “A date with me is worth way more in value, so you’ll be getting a better bargain.” 

You could not believe this guy. “Is a date with you really going to be worth it?” 

“Look,” he leans in over the counter and you catch a whiff of a light, woody scent. You fight off the desire to deeply inhale it. “No matter where we go or what happens, I’ll make sure you’ll be happy by the end of it. Isn’t that worth taking the risk of losing $11.87?” 

Squinting your eyes at him, while still clutching the goods he wants, you start to warm-up to the idea since you don’t have anything to lose (but maybe that’s due to the influence of his slightly intoxicating aura). 

“Will you choose the date location?” you ask, guarded.

He shakes his head. “Everything will be up to you and I’ll try to accommodate my schedule as best as I can.” 

You raise an eyebrow, challenging him. “And what if I want to go to the most expensive restaurant in town?”

Without hesitation, he nods. “Then we’ll go to the most expensive restaurant in town.” 

“If I wanted to order the $130 steak?” 

“$130 steak it is.” 

“If I—” 

The cute (you can’t deny it at this point) stranger cuts you off with a raise of his hand. God, you hate how cocky he is. 

Suddenly, he holds out a hand, sticking his pinky finger up. He waggles it, and you realize he’s waiting for you to do the same. You curl a pinky around his.

“There. I promise you—cross my heart and swear on my mother’s life—that I’ll uphold and adhere to whatever date conditions you ask of me.” He straightens, stepping away from the counter. “Now, can I please have my snacks and drinks?” 

The events of tonight took quite a turn. Never in a million years would you think Mr. Predictability would ask you out on a date, let alone be pretty sweet about it.  

Perhaps there’s more to him than you thought. 

You hand him your phone, and he does the same. 

When he gives it back, you shake your head at the text he sent and the name he gave himself.

“Hyuck?” you ask, unfamiliar with the name.  

“Short for Donghyuck, but yes, beautiful?”

You turn your phone towards him in disbelief. “What’s with the heart next to your name?” 

He shrugs, flashing you another smug smile. “What about it?”  

Glancing down at his phone, he beams. You wonder if it’s because you wrote the following in brackets after your name: You Owe Me a Date Worth More than $11.87. 

“And your name is just as beautiful as you are.” 

Again, another eye roll. You wonder if the date will be filled with more of it. You shove the stuff towards him. 

“I have to know: do those lines really work?”

“Well, I have a date lined up with you, so you tell me.” 

Before you have a chance to retort, he grabs something out from his pocket.

A wallet.

His motherfucking wallet, and he has the audacity to toss a $20 bill onto the counter with the same grin that you still want to wipe the floor with. Your jaw hangs. 

“Keep the change,” he says, along with your name and grants you a wink as he grabs his items. 

“I’ll be seeing you on our date soon, gorgeous.” 

AUTHOR'S ENDING NOTE

thank you for reading! i've been getting so much love for this - y'all are amazing. if you would like to read an informal continuation, see here!

HYUCK + PINK for @husbandhoshi

The Sound That Leads Me Home Again | Haechan

series timeline | playlist

summary: as the seasons change, remember how i used to be / i hear the wind call your name, it calls me back home again. 

words: 6.1k+

category: seasons series finale, angst, fluff, prince!hyuck, hyuck feels lost, together they feel okay

warning(s): way too many reunited scenes, this is technically just part one i have a lot more for this finally but i need more time, blood, wounds, torture, branding, mentions of slavery/trafficking, bad writing

a/n: this is the finale for the 12 days of jaeminlore christmas! thx to everyone who have supported me and read my stuff. happy holidays and i love you all to bits and pieces

Afficher davantage

I Will Be There | Haechan

playlist | pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

summary: and there is no mountain too high, no river too wide. sing out this song; i will be there by your side.

words: 5.9k

category: prince!donghyuck, fluff, angst

warning(s): crying, panic attacks(ish?), very minor character death, slight bullying(?)

Afficher davantage

Fun, Fun, Fun | Haechan

summary: you can come along with me cause we’ve got a lot of things to do now, and we’ll have fun, fun, fun. words: 1.8k category: swimmer!hyuck, fluff!!!!!!! a/n: highkey this was all inspired by that scene in everything sucks! where sherry and ken swim in the pool 

Afficher davantage

learning languages | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader word count: 18.5k genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.

날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold

The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon. 

It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking. 

Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area. 

Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark. 

They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels. 

It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you. 

Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.

Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven. 

You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him. 

“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”

“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”

“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.

“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”

You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree. 

“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him. 

Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark. 

But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake. 

“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”

It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think. 

You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English. 

“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”

So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.

“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”

“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.

Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought. 

Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.

“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea. 

“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”

“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”

“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”

Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city. 

Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.  When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.

The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning. 

The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep. 

You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone. 

It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends. 

약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise

When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.

Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.

By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.

It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.

Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.

Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.

Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.

Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.

Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.

It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.

Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.

“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.

“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.

“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”

“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”

He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”

You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”

Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”

“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”

This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”

“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”

“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”

You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”

Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.

Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.

“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”

You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.

“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”

Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”

“It is,” you confess.

Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.

Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.

“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”

He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”

Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.

“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”

한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?

Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.

The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.

Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”

He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.

Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”

Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.

“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.

The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”

You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.

“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”

“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”

He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”

Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”

You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.

You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.

“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”

You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”

He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”

“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.

“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”

You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.

You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”

Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.

“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”

“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.

He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”

You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.

“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”

“That’s mean!” you gasp.

“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.

“Donghyuck!”

“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”

You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”

“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.

Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”

The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.

저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic

“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.

It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.

There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.

Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.

“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”

The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.

“She loves you already!” Mark comments.

You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”

“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”

“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”

Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”

Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.

Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.

Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”

“No way,” Mark protests.

“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.

“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”

“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”

Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.

Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.

“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”

Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.

“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”

This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.

“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”

“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”

He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”

“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”

Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.

Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”

“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”

Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”

You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.

“What?” you ask.

Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.

먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.

Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.

Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.

“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”

You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.

“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”

You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.

Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.

It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.

And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.

“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”

“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”

Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”

You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.

“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”

Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.

“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”

“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”

It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.

“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”

“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.

Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”

“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.

Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.

You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.

You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.

It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.

The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”

삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle

Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.

Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.

SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.

“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.

You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”

“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“

Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.

“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.

“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”

“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”

Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.

The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.

“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.

“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”

The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.

Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.

Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.

The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.

“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”

The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.

“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”

“Love… triangles?” you repeat.

“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”

You gulp.

“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”

This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.

“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”

You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”

Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.

It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.

Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”

이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?

You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.

Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?

You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.

Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.

You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.

Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.

“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”

“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”

Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.

“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”

“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”

A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.

“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.

“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.

“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”

Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”

But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.

Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.

You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.

“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.

Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.

You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.

Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.

You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”

Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.

He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.

“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”

“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”

“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”

“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”

Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.

“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.

Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.

When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.

“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”

So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.

When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.

Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.

Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.

You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.

“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”

“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”

Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.

“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.

Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”

“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”

“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.

“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”

“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”

You laugh but urge him to continue.

“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”

“What does Mark have—”

“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”

Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.

“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”

You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”

일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?

It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”

“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”

“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”

As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”

You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”

“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”

Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”

“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”

The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”

“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.

Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”

That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.

“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”

You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”

You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”

“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.

Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.

“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”

Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”

계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons

When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.

From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.

The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.

The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.

But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.

In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.

Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.

“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.

“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.

Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”

Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.

Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.

It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.

The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).

Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.

“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”

Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”

Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”

“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”

Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”

Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”

Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”

“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.

Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.

“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”

“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”

“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.

Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”

“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.

“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”

You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”

It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.

With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”

Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?

Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.

 오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand

Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.

You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.

His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.

It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.

The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.

You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).

Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.

Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.

Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.

“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.

Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.

His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.

“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”

Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.

You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.

“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”

Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.

“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.

천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo)  - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home

Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.

You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.

Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.

Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.

Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.

Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.

Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.

They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.

You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.

“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.

“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”

“Please speak slowly.”

“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”

“I can’t understand you.”

“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”

“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”

Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”

“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”

“Huh?”

“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”

“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.

“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”

Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.

The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.

You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”

“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”

Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”

“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”

Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.

“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””

“Shit like?” Mark asks.

You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”

“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”

Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”

You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.

“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”

You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”

“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”

You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”

“Back home?”

You smile. “Yes. Back home.”

갈망 (galmang) - longing

It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.

You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.

The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.

The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.

The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.

Of course, she knows.

Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.

Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.

They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.

“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.

“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”

“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”

Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”

“Mhm.”

“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”

Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”

It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.

But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.

예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected

The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.

You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.

You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.

미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.

“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.

“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”

Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.

“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”

“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”

He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.

“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”

You keep your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”

“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”

“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”

Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.

“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”

“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.

“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.

“But now like how you are a part of me.”

Oh.

“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”

He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.

“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”

Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”

Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.

“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”

But he doesn’t have to.

“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”

Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”

It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.

The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.

Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.

You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.

And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.

Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.

Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:

Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.

It’s only the beginning, it seems.

The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.

It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.

Desiderium

desiderium • an ardent desire or longing; especially, a feeling  of loss or grief for something lost    

SUMMARY | You see him in the same spot every Tuesday on your way home. He looks like he’s waiting, but he never gets on the bus. In which you meet Donghyuck when it’s already too late, and you don’t have time to wait with him.   

PAIRING | lee donghyuck x reader

CATEGORY | ghost!hyuck, pure angst

WORD COUNT | 4.9k

WARNINGS | mentions of death, car accident

SONG REC | Blue Leaves - Sóley

He sits on the bench where your bus stops at noon every Tuesday. He’s there every week, watching as the rain falls overhead. His hair is a soft, chestnut brown, and his skin is the color of the honey your grandmother likes to drizzle on her toast on dewy summer mornings. He looks neither sad nor happy, wearing the same expression as the people who sit too close to him, waiting for something that comes too late, or not at all.

Afficher davantage

love sick- masterlist

pairing: nct dream ‘00 line + reader

genre/warnings: zombie!au, fluff, eventual smut, angst. some graphic violence/ gore

summary:

“You’re telling me that I slept through the beginning of the zombie apocalypse.” You deadpan, expecting at least one of them to break character and laugh. All four boys remain grim.

notes: i absolutely hate zombie movies but i am beyond excited for this series! i hope y’all like it as much as i do!

chapter index:

one

two

three

four (m.)

five (m.)

six

seven

eight

nine

ten (m.)

final

blurbs

soft snuggles f

Die for me 

pairing: haechan x reader 

genre: ANGST, thriller/horror, some fluff ig, established relationship, magic au. 

synopsis: Grief leads to desperation and fear. Haechan can no longer handle the grief that eats away at him. He’ll do anything to bring you back to his side, even if it means to defy death. 

word count: 7k

warnings: death, smut but it’s … not?, manic episodes (funeral mania), delusion, hypo mania, blood, violence, rituals to bring back the dead, distorted bodies, suicide, self harm and profanities. 

a/n: this is my first fic after a while! Of course it’s a hyuck fic but because it’s been so long I apologise if it’s a little rusty. This fic actually made me sob lol, like full on ugly cry. Now what I mean by smut but not smut is that it happening but like bro wtf is happening yk. If you don’t get it then you’ll see, minors please dni. It has a lot of dark themes, don’t read if you’re not fully comfortable reading about all the warnings. 

Afficher davantage

title — the following pairing — demon!haechan x female reader, slight jaemin x reader featuring — jaemin as reader’s roommate and crush word count — 6.9k  genres — horror, angst warnings — language, religious concepts in accordance to demons and angels, mentions of murder, psychological and physical torture, elements of haunting, choking, degradation in a nonsexual context (donghyuck often refers to y/n as feeble or unintelligent), minor character death  inspiration — monster by red velvet

“under a single light, why are there two shadows?” “i’m a little monster, be scared of me / i’ll bother you by making you only dream of me.” “see i’m just playing, no bad intentions / try to come out of the dream but monster lives forever.”

author’s message — for the #neohalloween event hosted by @nct-writers​. this is my first time ever writing something of this genre, so i’m very excited and nervous to put this forward. thank you to @give-seconds​ for proof reading this and making it 100x better! much love ♡

also, this entire scenario is loosely generated from a superstition in hmong culture that you shouldn’t pick up anything you find laying around in public, for you might bring home something else with you. 

Afficher davantage

want & need (m)

pairing: haechan x reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

warnings: sad hyuck, thigh riding, marking, unprotected sex, overstimulation

wc: 4.4k

summary: donghyuck is in love with you. he swears he would cross the ocean just to get to you. he only wants you to love him, convincing himself that was all he needed. donghyuck is severely in love, and you’re just scratching the surface of love. you are all that donghyuck wants, but not what he needs.

➣ apart of ‘right lover, wrong time’ series

↳ masterlist

Afficher davantage

love always

CHARACTERS: lee donghyuck | nct haechan & female reader

WORD COUNT: 15.6k

WARNINGS: mentions of sex, swearing

GENRE: angst, fluff, what's wrong with secretary kim-inspired story

TAGLIST: @matchahyuck @ohmyhuenings

AUTHOR'S NOTE: thank you for reading this. i had fun writing it :) please let me know what you think about this fic!

Lee Donghyuck remains planted on the expensive swivel chair, blinking at the envelope sitting quietly on top of his desk.

The envelope screams RESIGNATION LETTER in bold print, but it’s got to be a joke, Donghyuck’s sure. There’s only one person directly reporting to him despite being the Vice-President of Client Solutions, and that is you. Anyone who wants to resign would have to address their letters to their superiors, who would need Donghyuck’s approval, which would never even land on his desk because you take care of those things for him. It would be quite impossible for anything to reach Donghyuck without it going through you.

And it’s you, for God’s sake. You would never quit on Lee Donghyuck. Not in a million years. Not in this lifetime, unfortunately.

Hence, Lee Donghyuck ignores the plain, white envelope; he reckons you would take care of it later for him. Somebody must have mistakenly placed it in his office, that no one can easily access apart from you, and it’s not like Donghyuck is scared of the thought of losing you. Anyway, if it were you, then he could just say no.

Donghyuck scoffs at the thought of your audacity leaving him after seven long years of working together, dropping a stack of files on top of the stupid letter, and makes a mental note to tell this joke to Jeno later when he joins him for dinner.

He pulls himself closer to his desk, turning away from the stack of files, and brings his focus back to his computer. His e-mails are all taken care of as usual—because all e-mails to Vice-President Lee must be addressed to both Lee Donghyuck himself and his secretary Y/N, otherwise, consider it non-existent; the golden rule in SM Tech is that, if Y/N is not copied, then it never reached Lee Donghyuck.

His entire day has been taken care of as well—you are an amazing secretary; anyone would be lucky to have you—and all he really needed to do today is review the reports coming from Operations before his big presentation to a client SM Tech has been trying to win over for years. Weishen Inc. is the most sought-after partner in the entirety of South Korea right now, and everyone and their grandmothers have been trying to get a partnership with them. It’s basically a war at this point, Donghyuck thinks, because it’s all every tech company in Seoul have been working on. And considering that Donghyuck is vying for that CEO role in the next couple of years, getting this in the bag would really help him.

Which is why it doesn’t make sense to Donghyuck that it’s you who would leave a stupid resignation letter on his desk.

You have been working with Lee Donghyuck for seven years. You were an intern, Donghyuck remembers, and Donghyuck had just gotten out of college. And being the eldest grandson of the chairman of the board, it was pretty easy for Donghyuck to land a permanent job as soon as he received his diploma. Donghyuck was introduced as a client solutions program director, with an emphasis from his grandfather that he wouldn’t get a special treatment and will work his way up just like everybody else, and you were introduced as his associate. It’s safe to say that moving up towards the leadership ladder had been easy because he had you.

Resilient and intelligent, you were everything he ever wanted. Donghyuck has been in the business far longer thant he years he spent in college; he’s seen everything as a child. Hence, Donghyuck knew what he wanted when he’s given a role, and you were everything and more.

You never complained about anything at all. Lee Donghyuck wasn’t easy to work with because well, he knows he’s a brat who gets everything in a golden platter and he is well aware of how demanding he can be. You worked beyond your supposed working hours to catch up on Donghyuck’s demands, and even went above the expectations by working on most of his reports because he had other priorities. You take care of his e-mails (there has never been a day in seven years that he opened Outlook with a single e-mail waiting for him) and get him meals daily because he never has the time. For fuck’s sake, you even take care of his stupid dates for him.

Over the years of working with him, you probably know Donghyuck like the back of your hand—even better than his best friend Jeno—and you’ve been working hard with him to reach his goal of becoming CEO in the next couple of years. You know this because you call him daepyonim when you’re tipsy from the expensive wine he makes you drink on a particularly stressful Friday night, and you never call him daepyonim. You’re one of the few people who calls him, well, Donghyuck. No honorifics, no boundaries.

So, Lee Donghyuck is sure you would never leave him.

“Donghyuck, I need you to approve this.” Speaking of the devil. “It’s a request to add more manpower in Operations. I’ve thought about it. You’ll probably decline this—I’m sure—because you would think they wouldn’t need it, but since we’re working on the new project—”

Everything else fades when he sees you enter his office: you hair is tied in a bun like always, the sleeves of your dress shirt he remembers giving you years ago are rolled up to your forearms, the redness from your lipstick is a little smudged (most likely because you keep drinking from a sports bottle and not from a glass like a normal person). You walk closer towards his desk, a folder in your hand, and as you speak, you’re snapping your fingers in his direction. Why are you snapping? Why—

Oh.

“Donghyuck?” you call, and it breaks whatever trance he was in. “I know you’re tired. But it’s Thursday, okay? Let’s get through today and tomorrow, then you can go golfing with Jeno or something.”

You gently slide the folder on his desk. “Here’s the letter of request. I just need you to sign this and I’ll be on my way.”

Donghyuck signs, trusting that you’ve read through the whole thing as always, and nods towards your direction. You thank him, and suddenly Donghyuck hears the white envelope buried under the stack of things he needs to read today scream for him.

“Hey, Y/N,” he calls. You turn with a curious look. Donghyuck clears his throat. “Somebody came to my office and accidentally left a letter without consulting you. People in the place should already know that no paper should land on my desk unless it’s cleared from yours. Can you take care of it for me?”

“I don’t remember anyone coming in today,” you trail off. “But sure, let me take care of it. Which one?”

Donghyuck gets rid of his own folders and finds the envelope, handing it to you, and you look at him as though he just cracked the funniest joke.

Chuckling, you walk back towards his desk, and Donghyuck almost sighs in relief when your hand touches the envelope. Almost, because you push it back to him instead of taking it.

“Donghyuck,” you say with a smile. “This is from me.”

Well. Fuck.

Of course, Lee Jeno is laughing at him.

“This is serious, Jeno,” Donghyuck whines quietly, careful so that you wouldn’t hear. He throws the cushion towards his best friend, who quickly dodges it. “I really think the person sitting on the desk outside my office is not Y/N. Didn’t you notice anything weird before you came in?”

“I think that you’re going crazy, man,” Jeno answers, still laughing. “It’s the same old Y/N. She told me not to bother you too much because you’re busy, just like every time I come here. I don’t think she knows what I do in this company. Doesn’t she know I’m the head of IT and Development?”

“I’m serious, man. Somebody must have abducted her and replaced her with someone as good, but I’m sure that’s not her—”

“Donghyuck-ssi­,” you call, the door slightly opened so he could only see you from your tied-up bun to the button of your nose. “I’ll be having my lunch. Let me know if you need anything; I’ll come running back.”

Donghyuck nods towards your direction, and as soon as you’re gone, he turns back to Jeno as if he just witnessed the craziest thing. “See?! That wasn’t her! She never calls me with honorifics. Why did she suddenly called me Donghyuck-ssi. Who the fuck is Donghyuck-ssi?”

“You’re literally overreacting,” Jeno comments. “She calls you with honorifics when you’re around co-workers because she doesn’t want the world thinking she doesn’t respect you.”

Of course. “Oh, yeah.”

“What happened, anyway?” Jeno asks, reaching for the gourmet burger you had ordered for them. “She seems fine to me.”

Donghyuck sighs. “She submitted a resignation letter.” Jeno almost chokes on his meal. “Unbelievable, right?”

“Holy shit, what have you done Lee Donghyuck?” Jeno asks soon as he recovers. Donghyuck shrugs, taking a piece of fries. “She’s finally had enough of you!”

“What do you mean?” Donghyuck retorts. “The fuck do you mean by she’s finally had enough of me? You wish I was your boss. I’m the best boss ever.”

Jeno laughs. Laughs out loud. And Donghyuck looks at him, exasperated.

“You’re not that dense, aren’t you?” Jeno chokes out; Donghyuck wishes he really chokes on his own laughter, stupid Jeno. “You’re not really that oblivious, right?”

“Oblivious about what, Jeno? You’re really annoying me now.”

“Oh, Lee Donghyuck,” Jeno laughs again. “I see why she’s quitting on you.”

“Who said I would let her?”

“I bet a new Lamborghini that she’s gone by the end of spring.”

“Don’t manifest shit like that!”

“Bet.”

“Bet I can make her stay.”

“Bet you can’t.”

“Fuck you.”

Donghyuck decides to cancel dinner with Jeno. Jeno is a bitch, anyway.

You’re seated beside him; his chauffer driving the two of you home. He sits uncomfortably beside you as you mindlessly scroll through your phone, unaware of the chaos you’ve created in his mine. The ride is about fifteen minutes away until you reach your apartment, which means Donghyuck has roughly fifteen minutes to get everything off his chest otherwise he won’t be getting any sleep tonight.

He reaches for the button on his side, closing the partition between the driver and the two of you. The sound alone makes you look at him, knowing that he probably has something important to say.

“What’s wrong?” you ask immediately as soon as the partition is closed. “Did we forget anything?”

“You’re not serious, are you?” Donghyuck asks, looking right into your eyes, because he wants you to know that he’s serious and that he’s not playing with you. “About the resignation. Because I’m not playing with you, Y/N.”

“Donghyuck,” you say in a whisper, taking both his hands and looking at him right into his eyes just like what he’s doing. You’re the only one who never gets intimidated with the way he’s looking down at you right now. “I wouldn’t joke about that kind of thing.”

“Why?” he asks.

“Did you read the letter?”

“Yes, and it’s full of bullshit.” You frown at his response. “What? It’s true? Resigning for a personal reason? Y/N, I would think you can give me a better reason.”

“It’s the truth,” you say quietly. “I have no other reason. I don’t plan to betray you by working in another company that pays better.”

“No one pays better than SM Tech,” he retorts. A fact, honestly. “And I don’t accept personal reason for resignation. I’ve never approved any resignation that says personal reason.”

“Donghyuck, I approve all resignation letters on your behalf; you haven’t approved a single resignation letter yourself in the last seven years.”

“Exactly,” Donghyuck spits. “I do not approve resignation letters. So, the answer is no.”

“Donghyuck, you can’t decline a resignation letter.”

“Watch me.”

“It’s illegal. That’s against the labor law—”

“Y/N.”

“Donghyuck, will you listen?”

“It’s final. No.”

“I’ll make my exit as smooth as possible; you won’t even notice. I’ve already put up a job vacancy online and tomorrow, I’m visiting Seoul National University with Soojung from Recruitment so we can see any potentials from the graduating classes. It’s going to be—”

“Absolutely horrendous,” Donghyuck finishes, fishing the envelope from the inside pocket of his expensive suit. “It’s final,” he says again, before doing the devil’s work.

“Donghyuck, don’t!” But it’s too late. He’s already ripped the envelope and the letter inside in half. And another half. And another one. Until it’s all torn into small pieces.

Donghyuck smiles in triumph, as if he just won a battle, and the urge to poke his tongue out is so strong that he has to remind himself that he’s still talking to an employee. He watches you sigh as you pick up the small pieces, collecting it then placing it inside your bag. You don’t say anything, and Donghyuck assumes you’ve accepted defeat. You’re not going anywhere, not in a million years, not in this lifetime. He sits back comfortably and from his peripheral view, he sees you fidgeting on your own hands—a sign that you’re upset. Well, you can be upset all you want; Donghyuck is not letting you go.

The car takes a turn into a familiar road, which means you’re two minutes away from your home. You still hadn’t said a word to him. Donghyuck is confident he’s got you wrapped around his finger. You’re not resigning. Never. Ever.

On the 25th street, right across an apartment complex, the car finally stops. You don’t say goodbye to him, but you turn to Donghyuck before leaving, saying: “You know I can print this over and over again, right?”

Which, Donghyuck hates, sounds more like a goodbye than the word itself.

Donghyuck’s known you for seven years, and when people (mostly his asshole friends who have blatantly shown interest in you) ask him what you’re like, he could say a lot of things.

The first word that comes to his mind is always kind.

When you and him were both 21, new to the company and adulthood itself, he remembers drinking with you in front of a convenience store nearby the office, right after you successfully finished your first presentation to the senior leaders. It truly deserved a celebration, that night, because it was the first time you and him had to do something big for the company. Donghyuck can’t remember much about the presentation itself or whatever feedback he received from his grandfather, but he can clearly remember how drunk you two were. He remembers taking his suit off and watching you take off yours, you and him left in your white dress shirts as you alternately take shots straight from the bottle of soju.

They say that you never truly know someone unless you see them drunk. And there you were, drunk and dazed, laughing with him about nothing at all. Donghyuck recalls an old man struggling to open the door of the convenience store and how quickly you (drunkenly) got up to help him. Donghyuck watched you enter the convenience store with the old man, later coming out, a big drunken smile on your face as you bid your goodbyes with the old man.

“Oh, Donghyuck,” you had said, tears already streaming down your tears. “I love him.”

“Y/N, relax, you literally just met him,” was his response.

“He was buying something for his sick wife,” you had rambled. “But he couldn’t cook to save his life so he got something from the convenience store. Have I told you he was counting his bills when he was paying? So, I paid for him and got him a few more things to take home. I love him so much.”

“You’re cute,” he had said (drunkenly, of course, he doesn’t mean it that way. You’re his secretary, for god’s sake.)

“I’d rather be called kind,” you had answered before tipping your head back and drinking from the bottle of soju you and him are sharing. Donghyuck wasn’t sure if he heard you. “I said I’d rather be kind than cute. Or beautiful. Or whatever. I’d rather be kind than anything.”

And Donghyuck knows this is true because like he said, he has known you for seven years now. Seven years, seven years of learning what kindness is. All because of you.

Aside from the innate kindness you have, Donghyuck thinks you’re detail-oriented. And not to be that kind of person who always talks about work, but Donghyuck reckons this is exactly why you’re his favorite person in the entire world (but no one needs to know that Donghyuck thought of you as his favorite person in the world) and he believes that this is why you and him have stayed together (at work) for seven long years, because you and him are the same when it comes to your careers.

You’re far more hardworking than Donghyuck, that one he can admit. You work long hours in the office even when he’s fast asleep in his couch or wherever his body could reach as soon as he’s home, just so you can make him look good in the board the next day. Donghyuck can’t count the number of times you saved him at work (more like saved his ass from his grandfather) and most of the time, he knows you deserve more credit than you get.

After three years of working as a director, Donghyuck was promoted as Vice-President for Client Solutions, the role he’s currently in. There was a party, Donghyuck remembers, and his grandfather invited everyone their family knew. His father had to remind him to greet each of those who will attend, as they could be potential investors and partners, and Donghyuck is great, okay? He’s one of the best in his field, not only because he’s part of the Lee bloodline, but because he worked hard for it. Donghyuck is charming, above anything else, and compliant and created and an innate leader, but one thing he is, unfortunately, not good at is remembering people.

And bless you, you knew that. The day before the party, you studied the guest list and any potential plus ones they might bring, and the night of the party, you walked arm in arm with Donghyuck, whispering the names of each guests and telling him how important they are in the business. Donghyuck could have kissed you right there and there (only because he’s grateful), because nobody in the entire world would have done that for him. When he thinks about that night and imagines if you weren’t there for him, he could have screwed up all client and investor relationships SM Tech has built over the decades. But you were there, you were always always there.

Which brings him to item number three: reliable.

Donghyuck could disappear from the face of the earth for two weeks straight and his line of business would still be running. Why, people may ask? Because he has you.

You’re here. You’re everywhere he wants you to be.

But right now—it’s difficult not to hate you right now.

Right now, if Donghyuck could describe you, right now you’re a piece of shit.

It’s been five days since the white envelope incident (as he calls it) and you have been nothing but a menace. An asshole. A literal piece of shit he wants to throw away. (Perhaps not literally.)

The first couple of days after the incident, the first thing he would see is another copy of your stupid resignation letter on his desk, and each time he would call for you, make you watch him rip it into pieces just like the last time, and you would leave his office, defeated—only to put the same stupid letter the next day like the asshole you are. You have threated to go straight to Human Resources, which you haven’t, thank God because Donghyuck doesn’t really want his grandfather to know these things, hend Donghyuck decided he would just hide from you. That way, in case Human Resources would ask why he didn’t approve the resignation, he could just say he never received a letter.

Which is why, Donghyuck has decided to work from home from this day onwards. You’ve been spamming his e-mail with the soft copy of the resignation letter, which he had ignored each time, and have been trying to call him non-stop, but he learned from Jeno that he could setup a meeting with himself in Microsoft Teams and pretend to present something so that nobody could call him and at the same time make people think he’s working because his status would tell people he’s presenting an important, well, presentation.

How long will he work from home? Well, up until you get your head out of your ass and stop asking him to approve your stupid resignation letter.

But you make it so fucking difficult. Apart from being kind, detail-oriented, and reliable, Donghyuck forgot that you’re also persistent. You don’t stop until you get what you want.

Which explains why there’s a delivery man walking back and forth from his truck to the inside of his house—because you decided to send three thousand copies of the resignation letter to his home. Three thousand copies of the same letter, all sealed in the same white envelope. Where do you even find the time to do this shit? He can’t believe you. He really can’t believe you.

He calls you as soon as the delivery person leaves his place.

“Fine!” is the first thing he says (more like screams) when you answer. “You know what? Sure, I’ll sign your stupid paper.”

“Thank you,” you reply, and it angers Donghyuck even more.

“Start looking for a fucking replacement. I don’t need you!”

“You’re upset, I understand that. You don’t have to be so mean about it, Donghyuck.”

“That’s daepyonim for you,” he retorts.

“Sure, daepyonim,” you bite back. “When can I come get my signed resignation letter, daepyonim? I’m itching to submit it to Human Resources.”

“Now,” he answers, all flared up and angry. You’re being a real piece of shit today. What’s gotten into you? “Come get it now, you ungrateful bitch.”

He hears you snicker on the other line before saying “thank you, daepyonim,” and you hang up.

Donghyuck throws his phone against the wall, and it breaks, dropping hard and in pieces down his warm, carpeted floor. He screams in frustration and pulls his hair, exhausted from whatever the fuck you’re doing. He can’t believe you’re really doing this. You’ve been with him for years; you literally grew up with him in the corporate world. He’s never heard one single complaint from you. Donghyuck’s mind runs a hundred kilometers per hour, trying to recall any memory of you expressing any intention to leave him, and it pisses him off a little that he never bothered to ask you once how you’ve been holding up over the last seven years. And he’s supposed to know; Donghyuck is supposed to know not only because this is something he should know as a leader (there was a webinar about retaining your employees four years ago but he slept through half of it), but also because he’s supposed to know you.

He supposed to know you the way you know him.

And right now, it seems like he’s dealing with a fucking stranger with how far away you are to him.

The door bell rings only minutes later. He guesses you’ve been waiting down the street after you sent 10 boxes full of resignation letters because it didn’t take you that long to reach his place.

“You could’ve just invited yourself in instead of wasting my energy; you know how busy I am,” is the first thing that Donghyuck comes up with.

“We’re not at work,” you remark. “This is your home. I can’t barge in anytime I want.”

“You barge in literally every time I oversleep and you pick me up,” he scoffs, turning to walk towards his living area with you following after him.

“Where’s my signed resignation letter?” you ask. “If I get it now and make it back to the office, someone from Human Resources can file it for me.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Relax. I’ll give it to you later. Come sit with me first.”

“I don’t really have time—”

Donghyuck turns and it’s a little too late for you to stop because now you’re chest to chest and Donghyuck has to hold your back to keep you from falling.

The first thing he notices up close is how dull your eyes look. Your eyes have always been bright, as far as Donghyuck could remember, and he knows this because even leaders from other lines of business have vocalized how excited your eyes always look whenever you’re at work. He’s heard people complimenting how pretty your eyes are, and you got voted as “Most Alluring Eyes of the Night” at the year-end party last year.

They’ve always been bright, full of sparks, passion, and warmth. But today, it’s all dull and empty, like a burnt-out light bulb barely hanging in there.

“What’s wrong?” Donghyuck asks gently, still holding you.

You clear your throat and step back, bringing the space and coldness back between you and him. “What do you mean?”

“Talk to me,” he offers. “What’s wrong? Why are you leaving?”

“Like I said in the letter—”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he warns. “Tell me why you’re leaving.”

“I’m not looking for a career advancement,” you say. “I swear. I didn’t get recruited from another company.”

“Tell me why you’re leaving,” Donghyuck repeats. You swallow and step back a little more, looking smaller than ever.

“Personal reasons,” you mumble. “I’ve been working in SM Tech for seven years, Donghyuck. I wasn’t even supposed to stay after my internship. My original plan was to get some experience and later on try to work abroad.”

“So, you’re not grateful that SM Tech absorbed you right after college?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you interrupt him. “I love SM Tech, and you know that. I owe the company literally my entire life. I wouldn’t have been able to afford the life I have now even if I worked abroad. You pay me more than anyone would and you’ve given me more bonuses than anyone else could get in a lifetime.”

(The car you got as a bonus wasn’t really a bonus; Donghyuck wanted to give it to you as a birthday gift without being seen as an emotionally attached sap, so he made the company tell you it’s a bonus.)

“But,” you say, sighing. “I’ve given so much of myself to SM Tech that I feel like I’ve got nothing left of me.”

“What do you mean?” he asks. He watches you look down, your toes fiddling, a sign that you’re nervous. “What do you mean you got nothing left of you?”

“I don’t know myself aside from being Lee Donghyuck’s secretary,” you finally say. “I’m scared that I’ll grow old not knowing what I else I can do aside from being your secretary.”

“Do you want to be promoted?” Donghyuck offers. “I can ask my grandfather to—”

You sigh, “That’s not at all what I mean Donghyuck.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want to get away,” you say in a small voice. “From SM Tech. From you. I’ll learn more about myself if I was far away from you.”

“Then take a fucking vacation!” Donghyuck breaks, face red. “Use all of your paid time offs. If you need more, I’ll have them give you more. Buy a fucking plane ticket to wherever you want to go. Book a stupid hotel room and use my card. Go wherever you want to go. Just don’t leave me, damn it!”

“Donghyuck,” you whisper. “Please let me leave. This is all I want.”

“Where do you plan on going if you leave?” he asks.

“I plan to take a year off from work. I have enough savings to last me a year without working. I’m not sure yet. I’ll travel, or whatever options I have.”

“I don’t understand.” Donghyuck sighs, walking towards his expensive couch, sitting with his palms on his face, his elbows resting on thighs. He feels you sit beside him, your knees touching his.

“Donghyuck, I’m turning 28 in a few months,” you slowly say, your hand on his shoulder as if touching him would make him understand what you’re trying to say. “I haven’t traveled to places I want to go. I’m grateful that you took me with you to all the business trips you had abroad, but I also want to travel. I haven’t traveled for leisure.”

“Why do you never ask?” he mumbles, words unclear because his face is still planted on his palms. “Why can’t you just request for a PTO instead of being dramatic?”

You laugh. Donghyuck finally looks at you again. “Donghyuck, you’ve never approved a single PTO.”

“You never requested.”

“I haven’t requested one since 2019, because you’ve declined each request from 2016 until 2019. And I can’t afford to go on leave these days, especially when you’re about to become CEO,” you explain. “Which is why I have to quit now before you become CEO.”

“What’s your point?” he groans, leaning back, head tilted up so that he’s looking at the ceiling instead of your empty, dull eyes.

“I’m turning 28 in a few months,” you repeat. “You becoming CEO would mean I would get less time for myself when I barely have any right now.”

“I’ll change,” Donghyuck promises. “I’ll give you a full week off every month if you want. Paid off.”

You laugh. “I’m turning 28.”

Donghyuck curses. “Why do you keep saying that? We’re both turning 28!”

“You don’t get it, do you?” you said. Donghyuck turns his head towards you, head still resting on the couch. There’s a sparkle in your eyes now that you’re laughing.

“Get what?”

“Oh, Donghyuck,” you say, leaning over him, your hand reaching towards his head, hand gently tapping his hair. “I’m turning 28 and I want to start dating and eventually get married. If I don’t quit from you now, I don’t think anyone would want to marry me when I’m 40 or something.”

Donghyuck sits straight up, eyes wide, “That’s why you’re quitting?”

You lean back, nodding.

“Why are you so being dramatic about it, quitting and all this shit you’re pulling?” he asks. “Y/N, we can resolve this easily—”

“I can’t date while working for you, Donghyuck. The last time I dated someone, you literally scared them away by showing up on our date, which was not cool, by the way.”

“Then we can get married!”

Donghyuck sees the surprise on your eyes, watches you swallow as soon as you hear his proposal. He smiles, knowing he can never get you to say no.

“Think about it, baby,” he says, the endearment obviously affecting you with the way your breath hitches. “We’re basically married now. We’ve been together seven years. You can still work at the company. If you don’t want to be my secretary anymore, I’ll—I’ll come up with something. The only difference will be rings on our fingers and sharing the same house!”

“Donghyuck,” you try to say. “I—”

“I’m sure we can have it arranged in a few days. My auntie owns a company that organizes weddings and events. We can—”

“Donghyuck!”

Donghyuck stops when you shout, the first time, at him. “Why?”

“I don’t want to marry you,” you drop. “It’s like… marrying my job. That’s weird.”

Donghyuck laughs. You laugh, too, which is a relief for Donghyuck. Does this mean you won’t quit?

“And besides you have a girlfriend,” you remind him. Oh, yeah. Hyunjin.

Donghyuck snorts, ready to get his phone. “We’re just dating because my mother said so. I can break up with her now.”

You chuckle as you stop Donghyuck from taking his phone from his pocket. “Donghyuck. No more games.”

“I’m not playing!”

“Please,” you quietly say, hand still on his forearm, giving him a pleading squeeze. “Please let me go. I owe you my life, and I think it’s time I live it.”

Donghyuck looks for any sign of hesitance in your eyes. Any sign of regret. Any sign of joking albeit impossible. But all he finds in your eyes is hope. Longing. And who is he to deny you from living your life?

He’s probably going to regret this, but Donghyuck reaches over his coffee table for a pen and a copy of your resignation letter. He takes it from the envelope and places the paper on his thigh, signing it with his name, before taking a good look on it, then at you.

You smile when you see him sign it, and hold his hand longer when he hands it to you. “Thank you,” you say almost in a whisper.

Donghyuck could only smile back, lip tight. You bid him goodbye and tell him you’re going back to hand it over to HR.

Donghyuck could only nod.

Donghyuck could only watch you leave.

Donghyuck could only sit in silence.

Thirty days.

Thirty days is how long you’re giving Donghyuck to accept your departure. It’s a month from now, but it feels like it’s coming by too soon.

It’s driving him insane, and he was right, he would regret signing it as soon as you left. Now, he’s in the conquest to have you retract the resignation before thirty days is over. It’s Day One of Operation: Keep Y/N—the biggest project he’s ever had his entire career. He doesn’t have a plan yet, but Donghyuck will succeed no matter what.

“Jeno,” he says through the office phone. “I need you here.”

“Man, I’m busy, what do you want?”

“I need you to help me make Y/N retract her stupid resignation,” Donghyuck answers in whisper because you’re siting literally outside of his door. “We took the webinar about retaining employees together right?”

“We took two hundred webinars together, Donghyuck. How would I know?”

“We did,” Donghyuck confirms. “But I was asleep. And you were new, so I assume you took notes. How do you retain your best employees?”

“Donghyuck, I literally cannot remember even attending such webinar,” Jeno admits. “HR does that. They have a person in charge of retaining employees who are resigning. Hand it to them, man.”

Donghyuck loosens his tie. “They don’t know Y/N like I do.”

“Then maybe you’re not trying to retain an employee,” Jeno suggests. “Perhaps you’re just trying to make Y/N stay. I don’t think you need anyone’s help.”

Donghyuck stops breathing for a second, trying to repeat what Jeno just said. Donghyuck denies it in his mind; he needs you because you work with him well. Because you and him work well together. Because he succeeds in any endeavor when you’re beside him. He’s trying to retain you as an employee. For the CEO post. For SM Tech.

“That’s not what I mean,” Donghyuck tries, but Jeno is already hanging up on him.

Well, Jeno is no use. Donghyuck reckons he can’t call his father or mother about this because then they would know he doesn’t attend all those webinars they enroll him to.

Hence, Donghyuck will ask the next best thing: Google.

Google routes him to a link to a Forbes article that’s titled: “Top Five Tips For Retaining Employees During The Great Resignation" and he figures he can start from there.

Create connection through engagement. Implement remote/hybrid schedules. Go with a growth mindset. Beef up benefit offerings. Cultivate company culture.

Huh, Donghyuck thinks. It sounds easier than he imagined.

Donghyuck sits up straight, nodding to himself as he reads through the entire article, fueled and motivated. He’s not going to let you go, not in a million years, not in this lifetime.

Operation: Keep Y/N commences.

Every year, SM Tech holds a sports event to encourage engagement, and Donghyuck sees this as an opportunity to complete task number 1: create connection through engagement.

Which is why he is here now, wearing something he would never be seen in on a normal day: a pair of red sweatpants and a white shirt. Jeno is sitting excitedly beside him at the gymnasium that the company rented for an entire day. Like Donghyuck, Jeno and everyone else is wearing the same outfit, half of the population wearing blue instead of red to manage the teams more efficiently.

Now there was one problem, how will Donghyuck create a connection with you if he’s never joined any of this bullshit for the past seven years?

You, however, joined each and every single one. Now that he thinks about it, why did you never bother asking him to join?

“There she is,” Jeno whispers, pointing towards the basketball court.

Donghyuck finally sees you after a full ten minutes of looking for you since he arrived. He has 28 days, he reminds himself. 28 days until your resignation takes effect.

“Wait, where are you going?” Jeno asks when Donghyuck stands, jumping from one stair to another, passing by the people sitting on the bleachers. “Stupid,” he shouts loud enough for everyone to hear when Donghyuck almost trips. Donghyuck fights the urge to flip him off.

He tries not to run as soon as his feet land on the covered court, but his steps are bigger than normal, as though he’s scared he might not be fast enough to catch you. You’re usually passionate about these things; Donghyuck’s sure you volunteered on something one way or another.

When you’re almost at reach, he slows down a little to catch his breath so that you wouldn’t think he came running to see you. Donghyuck realizes this is also the first time he’s seen you with anything else apart from dress shirts, slacks or skirts, or formal wear. You’re holding a piece of paper, reading it with a colleague, because of course, you’re playing and leading the team. You don’t notice him come by, and Donghyuck thinks it’s cute, the way your eyes widen at the sight of him wearing the same outfit as everyone else.

“Donghyuck!” you exclaim. “Donghyuck-ssi.” You repeat. God, you’re cute. He never realized you were this cute until today. “You didn’t tell me you’re joining today.”

“Surprise, I guess?” Donghyuck replies. Your colleagues all bow and greet him. “I’m happy to see everyone here today. Let’s all have a good day!”

The small crowd cheers, one of them pointing out that Donghyuck is on the same team as them, another saying it’s the first time he’s seen anyone beyond director level joining an event as such. You smile proudly at Donghyuck. No one needs to know his heart does a backflip (he’s not sure how else to describe the sudden rapid beating or the drastic change in his breathing) whenever you smile proudly at him. He remembers the first time he’s seen that smile: the day of his first presentation with the board of directors. He’s seen in more times than he could count, and among a hundred times he shows off what he’s got, most of it is because he wants to see you smile at him proudly.

So, he does one thing after another that he knows would make you proud.

“If Red Team wins the trophy this year,” he says. “Dinner’s on me!”

Everyone wearing red sweatpants cheers. The ones wearing blue mutter about why no one from the leadership joined their team.

“Let’s all work hard today!” Donghyuck shouts one last time, and everyone starts walking away from the small crowd to go prepare for the games assigned to them.

Donghyuck is still smiling directly at you, who’s also smiling directly at him, and his heart does that thing again when you step closer to him. “You’re cool, Donghyuck-ssi.”

Donghyuck shrugs, licking his lips, “I am Lee Donghyuck.”

You giggle and roll your eyes. “Any games you’re interested in playing?”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “My old injury still won’t let me.”

You nod, remembering right away. “Oh, yeah. I’ll see you in the office, then?”

“I’ll stay and watch,” Donghyuck confirms. “I’ll be your… Gatorade boy.”

You laugh out loud, and Donghyuck feels everyone watching the scene unfold. He could hear women muttering at how lucky you are to have interactions like this with him.

You nod and tell him to watch out for his head because the girls will be playing volleyball and the boys, basketball. He reminds you to take care and asks you gently not to get injured. Donghyuck catches the blush on your cheeks before you turn to catch your colleagues.

Donghyuck returns to the bleachers. Jeno has moved three flights down, and is sitting on the front row as the referee blows the whistle. The game of basketball starts, and Donghyuck watches, keeping his eye on you every now and then.

Red Team wins, of course, and everyone’s cheers is jaded when he sees you jump in excitement on the other side of the court. The host announces the next game: three-legged race, and he reckons this is the game you’re assigned to because you walk across the court with your teammates.

Jeno explains the game to him. Donghyuck nods, eyes still on you.

“That’s Na Jaemin from Accounting,” Jeno whispers, pointing at the tall, blonde man standing in the middle of the court. “What a gorgeous man.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, checking the time. The game should start in three minutes. He watches you interact with your teammates, perhaps looking for your partner who is yet to arrive.

Donghyuck feels something he can’t explain when he sees a tall man approach you, tapping you on your shoulder, and you excitedly cheering when you see the man, giving him a side hug that Donghyuck realizes you’ve never given him.

“That,” Donghyuck breathes. “Who’s that?”

Jeno snickers.

“That,” he emphasizes, like how that lady from Julliard introduced Troy Bolton in High School Musical. “Is Jung Sungchan.”

Donghyuck doesn’t know everyone in SM Tech, but he would know if there was a Jung Sungchan sitting around, looking like a fucking God, hence his surprise to see someone speaking with you so casually, making you laugh as if he’s funnier than Lee Donghyuck himself. What does he do anyway? Is he a VP like Donghyuck? VP for what? VP for Having Perfect Skin? Jung fucking Sungchan. Donghyuck already doesn’t like him.

“He works in IT and Development, under Jisung’s supervision,” Jeno answers as if he’s reading Donghyuck’s mind. “He’s new. Like he recently got regularized.”

“Who decided to regularize him?” Donghyuck confronts.

“Me, stupid,” Jeno answers. “He’s great. A potential leader in IT, if you ask me.”

“Like VP level?” Donghyuck asks. “Can he be a VP?”

Jeno laughs. “Man, you’re screwed.” Donghyuck looks at him, eyebrows furrowed, as if he’s asking him what he means. “Nothing, nothing.”

“He’s good-looking, yeah, but he can’t be VP like me.”

“Whatever you say, man.”

Donghyuck keeps an eye on you the whole time, and he hates that whenever he looks at you, he sees Jung Sungchan. He watches your teammates tighten the ties they wrapped around your ankles and knees. He hates that he has to watch Sungchan pull you close, the side of your bodies touching like magnets. He hates that Sungchan could wrap an arm around you because you’re too short and you would fall as soon as the game starts if he doesn’t hold on to you. He hates that Sungchan could hug you as soon as the game ends because you and him just won the game for the team.

He hates that Jung Sungchan sits beside you the whole time after the game, even going out of his way to get a bottle of Gatorade for you. He hates that you smile at him proudly, and that you laugh at whatever joke that man was saying. He hates that he’s sitting on the other side of the court, and that you don’t give him the time of the day.

He hates that after the game, when the team is announced as the champion of this year’s sports event, the first person you hug is Jung Sungchan.

Lee Donghyuck hates that he doesn’t understand why he’s hating all of this all of a sudden.

He skips dinner and leaves his card to Jeno.

You don’t look for him, and Donghyuck doesn’t understand why he hates that you don’t.

Donghyuck becomes obsessed with Jung Sungchan the next Monday after the sports event. It’s also 25 days until your resignation is finalized, which means, he shouldn’t be thinking about Jung Sungchan and should be focusing on the rest of what that Forbes article said about retaining employees.

Jung Sungchan, Donghyuck learns, went to the same university as you. He is a few years younger, so he probably calls you nuna. (Which makes Donghyuck think now, how do you feel about being called nuna by a good-looking man? He’s heard from his younger sister that women like being called nuna or having a younger boyfriend in general. Did you want Jung Sungchan to be your boyfriend? Is that why you’re resigning? Are you resigning so you can date him?)

Sungchan is an IT major, who’s also taking his master’s degree while he’s working. He was originally an intern like you, who was absorbed by SM Tech as soon as he completed his degree. (Donghyuck thinks you and him are probably close because he’s taking the same path you when you started with SM Tech. Yeah, that could be a valid reason.)

Sungchan is also from the same hometown you grew up in, though you never really met each other until he started working at SM Tech. Sungchan has the same schedule as you and Donghyuck (don’t ask Donghyuck how he got these information—of course, it’s Jeno) and spends a lot of time in the rooftop playing with his Nintendo Switch.

The similarities between you and Jung Sungchan are scary at this point. Donghyuck barely spends lunch time with you because even a hardworking girl like you needs time for herself, and oh Lord, Donghyuck thinks. You spent a lot of time in the rooftop, too. You and Jung Sungchan may be closer than Donghyuck had imagined.

“Donghyuck?” you call, entering his office. Donghyuck quickly closes the window showing Sungchan’s profile in the employee directory. “I’m going to take my lunch. After this, come meet the applicants, please.”

Donghyuck’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

You smile. “For my replacement.”

“Oh,” he breathes. “That quickly? I thought you’re staying for like a month?”

You nod. “I figured it’ll be a smoother transition if we hire my replacement as early as next week, that way, they could get used to your schedule and daily whereabouts before I leave.”

Before you leave, of course, Donghyuck remembers. Of course, you’re leaving.

Donghyuck forgets about Jung Sungchan, doesn’t even think about him when he asks you: “Wanna have lunch with me?”

His heart somersaults when you smile back and say: “I’d love that, Donghyuck.”

Lunch is nothing but your sweet, soft laughter whenever Donghyuck cracks a stupid joke. It’s nothing but Donghyuck’s heart doing its thing whenever you say something encouraging or when you reach over to wipe the sauce from the tip of his lips. It’s nothing but Donghyuck thinking why he never invited you for lunch, why all meals with you all these years have always been rushed and in the middle of stacks of  folders because you both had to quickly go back to work if you wanted to make it home before midnight, why stressful Friday nights were just wine inside his office, why he never took time to talk to you like this. Like it’s nothing but you and him.

You know Donghyuck like the back of your hand. Donghyuck asks himself, does he know you like you know him? He knows how you handle certain situations and is well aware of your quirks inside the office, but does he know you like how you know the pain that comes with being the grandson of Chairman Lee? Does he know you the way you know he’s never really been in love with any of the women he dated and that he’s only dating them to comply with his Mother’s ridiculous requests? Does he know you the way you know right away when he’s sick and needs a couple of days off?

You have done so many things for Donghyuck. While you’re helping him with a glass of wine, Donghyuck thinks: what has he done for you? Has he done something as exhausting as handling the date invitations and break-up procedure with his past girlfriends? Has he done something as marvelous as getting out of your way to make sure he gets the best treatment while he was on leave when he had that awful injury? Has he done something as remarkable as setting up an entire banquet dinner for his family when he forgot about his parents’ anniversary?

Has Donghyuck done something you would remember him by when you leave?

Something drops on the pit of his stomach, and Donghyuck suddenly wants to throw up at the thought of you leaving. And of course, you notice this right away because you stop eating as soon as Donghyuck froze on his seat.

“What’s wrong?”

I’m going to miss this, Donghyuck thinks, but he would rather die than admit it out loud.

“The steak is not as good as the other place,” he lies, shaking his head. “Which means, we’ll have to go there tomorrow.”

You chuckle. “Sure.”

Lee Donghyuck isn’t scared of anything, but the sight right now is pretty much the scariest thing he’s ever seen his entire life.

As promised after lunch, you took Donghyuck to the Recruitment Hub to meet the potential candidates for your post. You and him might have forgotten, but neither of you had gone through the process of hiring somebody. You have never worked for anyone else apart from Donghyuck, and no one else has directly worked for Donghyuck apart from you.

So, when you and him step inside the Recruitment Hub, and all twenty-seven candidates simultaneously stand and greet you in chorus, it startles the shit out of you both.

“Uh, hello,” you greet awkwardly. “You can all sit. We’re just dropping by.”

A woman wearing all green approaches you with a confident façade, eyes and lips shaking as she walks towards you and Donghyuck.

“Hi, Y/N-ssi and daepyonim,” she greets in such a high-pitch voice, it’s impossible someone sounds like that naturally. “I’m excited to work with you.”

Donghyuck grimaces, but nods quickly, not accepting the handshake she’s offering. You accept it on his behalf.

One by one, the applicants introduce themselves, and Donghyuck can tell most of them are rookies, with the way they were bowing too much and how their voices were shaking a little because of the forced energy they’re trying to portray. All fucking twenty-seven of them.

Thank God, Soojung, the recruiter, stepped out of the interview room and asked everyone to sit and wait for their turn. She announces that the interview with Mr. Lee Donghyuck is not until they all pass the other interviews.

You and Donghyuck leave the scene, laughing on your way back to his office, because it was downright ridiculous, the scene you witnessed in the recruitment hub. He likes that you’re laughing with him, and Donghyuck take a chance:

“Stay,” he says softly, holding your hand. “Please.”

You smile back, squeezing his hand back before holding his face with both your hands, palms warm, and Donghyuck melts. “You know I can’t.”

“Why not?” he asks innocently. “Why can’t you stay?”

“You know why,” you answer.

“The marriage proposal is still on,” he offers. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

“Don’t joke about things like that, Donghyuck,” you giggle, squeezing his cheeks one last time before stepping back to leave.

“Why not?” he asks.

You don’t answer until you’re almost out the door: “I might start considering it.”

It’s twenty-two days before you leave when Donghyuck finds you on your desk and hands you a laptop from Jeno’s office—all encrypted and set-up for work—and tells you that you can work from home all week next week.

“I can?” you ask. “I never worked from home. Not even during the pandemic. I worked from your home office. But never in my own home.”

Donghyuck nods. “I figured you’ve been tired all week, with the presentation in the next couple of weeks coming up.”

“Exactly,” you point out. “The presentation we’ve been preparing for is coming up. I should be here with you.”

Donghyuck’s heart does the thing again. “And you’ve worked hard enough for it. You’ve done the research part, which took the longest, and I’m grateful you covered all that for me. Which is why I’m letting you work from home all week.”

Implement remote schedules, the article reminds him.

“Oh, man, thank you,” you say, hugging the laptop and bowing to him. “I really appreciate it.”

Donghyuck wonders why you never ask about these things. Looking at your reaction, it looks like this is something you’ve wanted for a while, but why have you never asked? He would have said yes easily.

“You let me know if you need me in the office and I’ll be here right away.” Donghyuck nods. “Thank you.”

Donghyuck goes back to his office. He figured he’ll be okay with you not being in the office.

He’s so wrong.

He’s not okay. It’s only been three working days since you started working from home and he’s already a mess. There are people knocking in his office because you aren’t there to shoo them away, and Donghyuck is not really a people-person, okay? If it weren’t for his Lee blood, he wouldn’t have made it to this position because he’s not that good with people. He’s mean and vile and rude, and his boss would probably fire him right away as soon as he opens his mouth.

Someone with the name of Chaewon is explaining something to him right now, something about logistics and about her needing him to give the sign off to another person with the name of Jiwon. She apologizes for barging in and says she doesn’t know what to do without you here. Donghyuck could say the same thing, honestly.

As soon as Chaewon is out the door, Donghyuck follows behind and locks the door.

He takes his phone and hopes you pick up because you’re probably focused on a report you’re studying since early morning.

You pick up, like always.

“Come back,” is all Donghyuck says.

You’re back in the office in no less than 20 minutes.

Seventeen days from your departure, Donghyuck is walking around Gangnam trying to find the perfect gift for his Mother. The jewelry shop around the corner is the only place his mother likes, so he buys her the bracelet filled with diamonds that she’s been eyeing on for a long time.

When Donghyuck is about to pay, a ring catches his attention. It looks great. Would look better on your hand, because, well, you have the prettiest hand. He’s going to buy it for you for no reason. Just to say thank you for staying with him for seven years.

Exactly two weeks before your departure, Human Resources finally finds a person who’s apparently fit for your job. Donghyuck doesn’t believe them at all but agrees to meet the person anyway.

You’re on the phone with someone when he steps out of his office. You look at him and point to the phone.

“Hyunjin,” you mouth. Donghyuck shakes his head and waves his hands, telling you no, I’m not here.

“Yeah, I understand, Hyunjin-ssi,” you speak. “Donghyuck-ssi has been extremely busy with the potential partner who’s visiting in a week—Oh, he didn’t tell you about? I’m sorry. He must have forgotten.”

Donghyuck gives you a thumbs up. You owe me, you mouth again.

“I assure you there’s no one else, Hyunjin-ssi,” you speak again. “He’s in his office 12 hours a day, and his driver drops him home and picks him up every day, so I don’t think he’s sleeping around.”

Donghyuck sighs. He needs to make his mother stop setting him up with other women.

“I’ll definitely have him call you as soon as he returns from the meeting he’s in,” you say, voice empathetic, probably because you’ve mastered the art of handling Lee Donghyuck’s relationships. “I heard you were in the Dior Fashion Week last month? You were so beautiful!”

Donghyuck leaves and lets you do what you do best: handle things he can’t.

He knows you know the drill by now. Seven long years, about nine or ten girlfriends in between, none of which he ever really loved.

“You’re so corny,” you had said once, while composing a love letter for one of his ex-girlfriends. “This is, like, so outdated,”

“What is?”

“This whole process!” you laughed. “Donghyuck, we’ve been doing this for over five years. You’re so corny and repetitive and unoriginal. No wonder no woman ever stays.”

“I leave,” he corrected. “And I’m not repetitive.”

You snorted. “Donghyuck, I know how each of your relationship started and ended.”

“Do you?” he challenged. “Tell me then.”

“It always starts with your mom,” you joked, but it was true anyway. “And you send them an external e-mail from your work account because you’re a piece of shit who likes to brag the VP title.”

“Right,” he agreed, laughing.

“And the first date is always at Love Always,” you continued. “Nowhere else! Besides Love Always! It’s not even a good restaurant. People go there for the clout.”

“And for Instagram,” he added. “Of course, if I take her there, she would take many pictures to post on her Instagram.”

“The second date is in your office,” you said. “And Chef Park makes the food especially for you two. And I buy a fancy flower arrangement to decorate your entire office.”

“And you have the audacity to use my card and buy yourself tulips,” he interjected. You shrugged and poked your tongue on him. “But go on, what’s next?”

You cleared your throat. “The third date will only happen if you like her enough during the second date. The criteria are as follows: did she make a comment about the security system? She should, because Jeno invented that. If she doesn’t, there’s no third date.” Donghyuck is impressed. “Did she ask you to narrate a day in your life in this very office? She should be interested in what you do, otherwise she’d only be depressed because work is all you talk about. If she’s not, there’s no third date. Lastly, did she compliment Chef Park’s food? He’s the best chef in the entire world so if she doesn’t, then there’s no third date.”

“Impressive,” Donghyuck commented. “But you missed something.”

“No, I didn’t,” you confidently answered. Donghyuck smiled.

“You missed the part where they have to be kind to you on the second date to get a third date.”

Donghyuck didn’t miss the blush on your cheeks.

“Whatever,” you shrugged. “Anyway, if it’s time for The Big Break-up, you ghost them for two or three weeks. When they start calling, La Belle Fleur is just a speed dial away. I have to get the most expensive arrangement of flowers, depending on the girl’s preference, and write in verbatim: I’m sorry I’m not enough for you. A woman like you deserves better. Please accept my apology. I will not bother you anymore.”

“Bingo!” Donghyuck confirmed. “And lastly—”

“Love always,” you said together. “Lee Donghyuck.”

(Hyunjin never got the third date, Donghyuck remembers. So, she’ll probably get the break-up flowers.)

Zhong Chenle is bright like you when he enters Donghyuck’s office. Perhaps not as bright, but good enough.

“Donghyuck-ssi,” you start. “This is Zhong Chenle. Your new secretary. He will start tomorrow. I had facilities setup a desk and computer beside mine. We’re working on his ID and credentials today, so there should be no issues tomorrow.”

“Nice you meet you, daepyonim,” Chenle greets, bowing a complete 90 degrees. “I’ll work hard.”

Donghyuck only nods, still not used to talking to other people apart from you. He sees you mouth something to him, along the words of “be kind”, but Donghyuck’s not really in the mood to being kind when you just reminded him again that you’re leaving in literally two weeks.

“Have you sent the flowers to Hyunjin?” is what he says to you, tone mean and condescending.

“I’ll have it done in a minute. I wanted to introduce Chenle first before I—”

“We’ve been introduced,” he firmly says. “Now go do your job. Out.”

You look at him in disbelief, probably biting your tongue, but nod and leave anyway.

Donghyuck doesn’t know where this sudden change of mood is coming from; perhaps when he saw Chenle, he realized it’s real. He realized you’re leaving SM Tech. You’re leaving him.

Of all people, you are leaving him.

He would think seven years would mean something to you. His feelings are still unclear, but one thing is for sure, those years mean everything to him.

Donghyuck’s suddenly bitter. Angry at the fact that you had the audacity to even bring a new secretary for him. That you had to keep coming to work and showing him the things you do for him, further making him feel like you’re trying to show him he’d go limp without you.

Fuck trying to get you to stay.

You can go as far away as you want.

“This isn’t right,” Donghyuck comments when he reads Chenle’s report.

“We’ll correct it right away,” you interject, but Donghyuck shakes his head.

“Do you expect me to accept work like this?” Donghyuck asks.

“Donghyuck, I’ll—”

“I’m not talking to you,” he spits, eyeing you before turning back to Chenle who has his head down. “You, Chenle!”

“Yes, daepyonim,” he says in a whisper.

“Talk louder,” Donghyuck commands. He hasn’t been like this in a while. During the first few years of working, he might have treated you this way, but it’s been so long that he can’t remember. “Do you expect me to accept work like this?”

“No, daepyonim,” the younger man answers. “I’m sorry. It was my first time, and—”

“And you should be forgiven? Who told you that? Whose rule is that?” Donghyuck challenges, then looks at you. “Y/N? Is that what she said? If you make a mistake, because it’s your first time, you’re forgiven? Is that it?”

You and Chenle remain silent. Donghyuck can’t read your face and would rather not look at you while he’s trying to be angry.

“Now you can’t answer?” he scoffs. “Don’t believe a word Y/N says. She’s leaving, why do you think she’s leaving? If this is such a great job, why would someone working here for seven fucking years leave? This is going to be your life every day. Rethink your fucking choices and get out of my office.”

Chenle nods, bowing before leaving. Donghyuck ignores you and goes back to his work, typing away. You, however, remain silent, just standing there watching him.

“What are you waiting for?” Donghyuck asks calmly. “Do you need me to walk you out of my office?”

“If you’re mad at me,” you say, voice shaking. Donghyuck realizes you’re about to cry. “Don’t take it out on the kid.”

Donghyuck snorts. “He needs to be tough if he wants this job.”

“I—” you start again. Donghyuck waits. But you keep your mouth shut.

Donghyuck keeps his eyes on his monitor and hears the door shut. When you’re gone, he can only watch the door, as if he’s expecting you to come back.

He reckoned it’ll be easier to watch you leave if you hate him. It’ll be easier to watch you leave when your eyes aren’t as bright and warm as they are.

Donghyuck keeps himself locked inside his office for the rest of the day. You leave a message in his inbox, telling him you and Chenle are out for lunch, then another when you returned exactly one hour later. Donghyuck doesn’t have the heart to reply to you.

Later that night, you send him another message saying you and Chenle are logging off for the day. He sighs in relief when he reads it and quickly prepares to leave as well. What he didn’t know is that, you and Chenle are still right outside his door. He stays behind the door.

“Donghyuck’s just stressed,” he hears you say. “You know, Weishen Inc is really big time. Like, if you already think SM Tech is huge, Weishen Inc is like, ten times.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Chenle replies. The kid’s probably right. “I don’t think I can fill the shoes you’re leaving behind.”

“You’ll be better than me!” you encourage him. “You’re already ten steps ahead with that skill in Microsoft Excel. Donghyuck had to teach me.”

“Really? That asshole has the patience to teach you?”

“Hey!” Then a slap, probably on Chenle’s arm. “Don’t talk shit about your boss.”

“You just told me ‘he can be an asshole sometimes’ literally five hours ago,” Chenle answers. Donghyuck stifles a laugh.

“Well, Donghyuck and I are friends,” you point out. “So, I guess that’s a pass to talk shit about him.”

“Fair,” Chenle agrees. “How did you even become friends with him?”

You chuckle. “I don’t know, Chenle. I guess, because we’ve been working together for seven years, we grew on each other. He was mean. Vile. He was the spawn of the devil when I first met him. But it was only because he was pressured to do well, and he can’t do well if his secretary is incompetent. I know everything I know because of him. That’s why I had to work hard, so that he could succeed in all of his endeavors.”

“So, you work hard for Lee Donghyuck?” the younger one asks.

“Exactly.”

“Well, what about you?”

“That’s why I’m quitting, kid,” you answer. “Time to work hard for me.”

Donghyuck hears them shuffle around, footsteps getting farther and farther away. When Donghyuck hears nothing but silence, he leaves.

Days go by with you and Donghyuck not talking at all. Not even for work.

It’s seven days before you leave, and Donghyuck has given up on making you stay. He doesn’t think it’s worth fighting for anyway, because you’re leaving and nothing’s stopping you. And who is Donghyuck to stop you?

Who is Donghyuck to stop you from living your life and choosing yourself?

If he was being honest, he feels guilty over the fact that you had to live all these years jailed to being his secretary, but at the same time, there’s a needle poking his heart when he wonders why you make working with him sound so miserable. Why it feels like you never wanted any of these. Why seven years suddenly mean nothing but work for you.

Donghyuck wants to ask, what about all those hours when you and him aren’t working?

Nights of drinking at a convenience store because you would rather go home than spend so much money on overpriced drinks at a crowded, loud bar. That entire week of being stuck in the US together because all flights were canceled and the next earliest flight was six days after the original departure. Days of nothing but watching movies in his office because there were no clients to worry about. Dinners with his family, dinners at his place. Weekends in Japan because you and him are stressed and you need some kind of getaway.

Did… did Donghyuck force you all those times? Did you feel like you had to say yes because you’re working for him?

He needs to drink. Donghyuck doesn’t have many friends. He has Jeno, but Jeno is in New York right now. And, well, he had you. He can’t call you for many reasons.

So, he goes alone, of course. He leaves work early, leaving a message to Chenle that you and him can go home whenever. He tells his chauffer he can take the night off, too. Donghyuck doesn’t need anyone tonight. He can take care of himself, thank you very much.

He takes an Uber home, and drives himself after dressing up. He’s planning to get drunk as shit and to get laid tonight, so of course, he needs to look great.

The club is loud when he arrives, and he convinces himself he’s never too old to go clubbing, though with the look of the women’s faces here, he reminds himself to be careful and ask how old they are if he plans to make out with them.

He opens a tab and asks for some rum and coke to start off the night. He can’t remember how many drinks he’s had when he finally gets the courage to go dance and pull a woman wearing a tight, beautiful dress from the crowd. She smells great and Donghyuck feels the curve of her hips when he pulls her close.

And she’s kissing him now. Donghyuck hasn’t kissed anyone in a while, so he doesn’t know if it feels great.

Then she’s touching him everywhere, pushing him until he’s seated on a couch and she’s sitting on his lap. Her tongue is everywhere. One second it’s in his mouth, the next on his neck, and Donghyuck is just drunk as shit and wants to get laid.

How old are you is what he wants to ask but it comes out as: “How old is the hotel?”

“What?” the woman asks. “If you’re horny, we can do it here. There’s a bathroom on the back. Let’s go.”

Donghyuck shakes his head. He’s never had sex in such a scandalous place. Sex should be done in bed. “No. Bed sex only. Hotel, please.”

“You serious?” she asks. Donghyuck nods. “Fucking loser.” Then leaves.

Donghyuck laughs at himself. Yes, he’s definitely a loser. He looks down and his dick is not even hard enough to invite someone for sex. It’s fine though, the woman she was making out with doesn’t have eyes as bright as—

“Fuck off,” he says to no one. “Get the fuck out of my mind.”

He goes back to the bar and take as many tequila shots as he can. It seems like rum wasn’t enough to get you out of his mind, because he’s here to make out with people and have sex with someone but all he can think about is your stupid fucking eyes that he loves so much for some reason he could never comprehend.

Donghyuck doesn’t remember how many shots he’s had now, but his chest starts to hurt so he convinces himself to stop. He hands his card over to the guy at the bar and tells him to give himself KRW 100,000 as a tip. Then he’s out.

Donghyuck is dizzy as fuck when the lights from the streets hit him. He’s stumbling when he reaches his car keys and presses the buttons so he could find his car. It takes long for him to simply get to his car, and Donghyuck is stupid, but he’s not dumb. He’s not making it home alive if he tries to drive now. Perhaps he could sleep in his car all night. Yeah, that’s what he will do.

So, he gets in his car, rolls one of the windows down, and settles himself on the driver’s seat, eyelids heavy.

Then—

His phone rings.

“Y/N, baby,” he drunkenly greets, eyes still closed. “Why are you calling me?”

“Where are you?” you ask, worried. Donghyuck smiles.

“Aw, you miss me, baby?” he asks, giggling.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m not,” he hiccups. “I was trying to have sex with someone. Apparently, I’m—I’m a loser for wanting to have sex on a bed than a dirty public restroom. How am I a loser for being able to afford a hotel for a one-night stand.”

You sigh on the other line. “Why are you—What are you even, you know what? I don’t want to know. Stay there. I have your location on.”

“No!” he protests. “Don’t come! I don’t want to see you! And I don’t want you to see me like this!”

“Don’t hang up,” you warn. “Are you on the street or something?”

“I’m in my car,” Donghyuck says anyway. “But I don’t want to see you.”

“I’ll wear a face mask so you don’t see me,” you answer. Donghyuck hears you shuffling on the other line, probably driving. How did you even know he’s out tonight?

“Wear sunglasses, too,” Donghyuck suggest. “I don’t want to see your eyes.”

“Okay.”

“No, don’t. I want to see them,” he says. “I probably won’t ever look at you in the eyes sober again.”

“Whatever you want, Donghyuck.”

“I’m about to pass out,” he whines. “Please come quickly. I need to see you before I pass out.”

“I’m nearby.”

“Wait no, don’t drive too fast,” he exclaims. “I need you alive.”

“I’ll be alive. I’m around the corner. Where are you parked?”

“Guess!”

“Donghyuck, I don’t want to play games with you. Please—there you are. Wait for me.”

“I’ll wait for you forever.”

The next scenes go by quickly in Donghyuck’s mind. You help him get out of his car and take him inside yours. You promise him you’ll pick up his car early in the morning and ask him to try to stay awake until you reach his penthouse.

Donghyuck tries his best. Everything is doubled in his sight, but he plays with the tablet connected to your car, and takes out everything you have in the small compartment in front of him. He reads all the labels and even the ingredients of the products you had in there in attempts of staying awake.

And when you reach his home, he realizes how great you smell.

You help him reach his bed and get him out of his clothes because you know he likes to sleep naked. You ask him to drink a glass of water before going to the bathroom, grabbing a towel soaked in warm water.

Donghyuck is already lying on his bed, snuggled in his blankets, when you return. You don’t talk, but Donghyuck thanks you when you start dabbing the towel all over his face then down to his neck and chest.

“Here,” Donghyuck points to the skin below his jaw. “Clean it. She kissed me there.”

Donghyuck is dazed, but he doesn’t miss the way you stopped as soon as he said that. “Clean me everywhere. Because she kissed me everywhere.”

And so, you do. You clean him everywhere, and Donghyuck feels you press harder on his skin, gliding the rough side of the towel harshly.

“Where else?” you ask. Donghyuck is already half asleep. “Where else did she kiss you?”

Donghyuck weakly points to his lips, one eye open. “Here.”

He watches you leave, going back inside his bathroom, and return with another towel, a cup and a bottle of mouthwash. He does his best to get up when you help him. You hand him the mouthwash, reminding him not to swallow it, and wait for him to clean his mouth. Once he’s done, you wipe his mouth with a clean towel, putting everything on his side table, and Donghyuck you’re sitting so close to Donghyuck now.

You’re holding him so tight, face inches away from him.

“Sleep, Donghyuck,” you whisper. Donghyuck leans closer. “Please.”

“I want to kiss you,” he confesses. “Kiss me. Please.”

“Donghyuck, let’s not do something you will regret later.”

“I won’t regret it because I won’t remember,” he answers. “Please kiss me.”

Donghyuck doesn’t know why he’s surprised when you do. He’s naked and you’re sitting on his bed, kissing him. And you’re kissing him like it’s all you ever wanted. You started softly kissing him, like you’re testing the waters or kissing something so delicate, like you’re scare you would break it, but Donghyuck pulls you closer, holds you by your jaw, and invites himself inside your mouth.

The next thing he knows, you’re sitting right on top of his boner and he’s unbuttoning your shirt and kissing everywhere, biting, nipping, licking—and God, you taste good. Better than he imagined. He’s about to unclasp your bra when you stop him.

“Donghyuck,” you whisper. “Let’s do this when you’re sober, yeah?”

Donghyuck nods like a child, and his boner hurts, he just wants to bust a nut, but agrees anyway.

He doesn’t remember much after that. He passes out as soon as you kiss him on the forehead with a promise of seeing him tomorrow. 

When he wakes up the next morning, he remembers everything.

Two days before your departure and Donghyuck is yet to get the courage to speak with you.

He called in sick after the incident five nights ago and has been avoiding you like plague. Today, however, is the day the folks from Weishen Inc is vising SM Tech for his presentation, and he’s nothing but a bunch of nerves all morning.

He assumes he’s forgiven for everything when you step inside his office with a chamomile tea in hand. You know he can’t present anything properly without drinking chamomile tea first.

“You’re going to be great,” you offer with a small smile. “I’ll be there with you.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sure Weishen will agree with the partnership,” you assure. “You worked so hard on this.”

“We,” he corrects. “You did more than I have. I’m all confidence and talk; you’re the research and brain.”

“Guess this is why we’re the best partners,” you joke. “We balance each other out.”

Donghyuck chuckles. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

You nod. “I know.”

“Tomorrow’s your last day.”

“Tomorrow’s my last day,” you agree. “But that’s tomorrow. Today, we’ll secure your partnership with Weishen Inc.”

“We will.”

Of course, you and Donghyuck secured the partnership. You and him were the best team the world has ever known.

“The team prepared a goodbye party at the pantry for you,” Chenle says when you, him, and Donghyuck are walking back from the board room to Donghyuck’s office. “If you have nothing to do now, can we go?”

“Chenle, baby,” you say. “I don’t think you’re supposed to tell me.”

Chenle gasps. “I’m not?”

“It’s a surprise,” Donghyuck mumbles. “Jeno and his team prepared it. Chenle, you were supposed to ask her to grab coffee from the pantry.”

You laugh at Chenle’s distress. ”Nuna! I’m so sorry!"

You assure the younger one it’s okay, and ask Donghyuck’s permission if you could go, which Donghyuck agreed to, of course. There wasn’t anything else to do for the rest of the day, anyway. The only thing everybody had going on today was the business proposal presentation for Weishen Inc. and since that’s done, you were free to go.

“Donghyuck,” you call when Donghyuck was about to go back inside his office. “Please come. I want you to be there.”

Donghyuck nods. “I’ll be on my way. Just have to check something.”

You nod back, smiling, and Donghyuck feels like he’s about to cry. It’s all bittersweet, and Donghyuck wonders how he could stretch the day longer tomorrow.

He quickly takes the small box that’s been sitting inside his drawer for weeks now and runs back outside to the pantry.

When he gets there, everyone’s gathered around you, and he knows you’re crying already because he could hear Chenle teasing you.

He sees Jeno who smiles at him knowingly, and your other colleagues you’ve gotten close with over the last seven years. He even sees Jung Sungchan that he’s forgotten about now, and he’s not bothered that the younger man hugs you as you cry. Chenle pops the champagne open, and starts to pour some to as many people as he can.

It’s Jeno who raises a toast. “To Y/N, thank you for your seven long years of service with SM Tech. We wouldn’t have gotten where we are now if you weren’t with us. You literally bring us all together because Donghyuck is Donghyuck, God knows he wouldn’t work with anyone. So, if it weren’t for you, Client Solutions and SM Tech itself wouldn’t be a success. To Y/N, you’re finally free from Lee Donghyuck!”

You laugh at the message. Jeno turns to Donghyuck. “Donghyuck, wanna say something?”

Donghyuck thinks. He has a lot to say. A lot of things to thank you for, countless of things to apologize for, many things to celebrate, but very little comes out when he’s surrounded with a crowd like this.

Therefore, he says the only thing he could muster up: “You and I will always be the best team the world’s ever known.”

The crowd cheers, and you continue crying.

Donghyuck raises a glass, drinks it in one go, then leaves, the small box in his pocket heavy.

It’s you who finds Donghyuck in the rooftop hours later.

He never realized how comforting this place can be. Because he was only ever here during his first two years working when he had to smoke his stress off from his body. The sun has set, and all Donghyuck could see are the lights from the streets and the buildings around SM Tech.

“Hey, stranger,” you tell him, sitting right beside him on the bench.

He only smiles and continues to stare ahead.

“Are you alright?” you ask.

Donghyuck chuckles. “Y/N, if you’re here to say goodbye, please don’t.”

“I’m not saying goodbye, Donghyuck,” you answer. “I was looking for you. You left.”

“I,” he starts. “I can’t handle that kind of atmosphere. You know that.”

You nod. “I figured. We took pictures. I wanted you there.”

Donghyuck remains silent. He lays his hand on top of his thigh, the one closer to you, and he lays it with his palm facing the sky, open, waiting for yours. You don’t need another second to figure it out.

It’s not the first time you’re holding hands. You held Donghyuck’s hand multiple times in this lifetime, and he held yours countless of times, but this one feels different.

You hold his hand like an assurance. Of what? Donghyuck isn’t sure. But he feels warm despite how cold it is up here. Like an assurance. Like certainty.

There were many things that Lee Donghyuck wasn’t sure of; things like getting that CEO role in the next couple of years, like how he’ll be able to make it without you outside his office, like how he can ensure that the partnership with Weishen Inc will run for a long time—even things like what would happen tomorrow. He’s always believed that his life is full of uncertainties despite receiving everything in a silver platter and that his life is crazy in many ways.

But here, under the starless sky of Seoul, he’s found the only thing he’s certain about and the only thing in his life that makes sense: you.

It’s you who have been with him in the past seven years. You who holds his hand at his lowest and cheers the loudest in his best. You who have always been gentle and kind and everything the world could never be. It’s you, the one he has loved for a long time without him knowing.

And he hopes it’s not too late.

When you decided to leave, he thought that the selfish part of him only needed you so he could succeed in his goals, because you have always been with him every step of the way from the day he started. Then he realized, you quitting would mean he would no longer see you every day, would no longer have someone to hold his hand when needs it, would no longer have someone laugh at his stupid jokes and tolerate his bullshit decisions, would no longer have anyone listen to him, would no longer have anyone to buy gifts for every Christmas, would no longer have anyone smile proudly at him every day.

Donghyuck cannot imagine a life without you. And when you said you were quitting because you wanted to get away from him, it hit Donghyuck like a fucking truck: you didn’t want him more than someone you’re working for, when all he’s ever really wanted is you. He goes to pointless dates thinking about you, whether you’d eaten or not, if you like the new album from that band you and him like, if you’d seen the new Avatar movie. And you were there, thinking of him only as Lee Donghyuck, the man you work for.

Which is why he’s so bitter about you leaving. Because you weren’t only leaving SM Tech. You were leaving Donghyuck.

But you’re here now. And you’re holding his hand, and Donghyuck wants, wants, wants.

Donghyuck wants you.

“I—”

“You—”

You giggle. “Alright, you go first.”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “I’ll throw up if I go first. You go first.”

You nod. “I’m going to miss you.” You smile.

“I miss you already,” Donghyuck whines. “But, go on.”

“I’m sure you remember what happened that night that’s why you called in sick all week,” you say. Donghyuck can blame the cold for the blush on his face. “And I remember, vividly. And I don’t regret it.”

Donghyuck nods. He doesn’t know what to say. He should’ve gone first.

“Do you regret it?” you ask, hopeful.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Not one bit. I was scared you did. So, I ran away.”

“Why did you go out kissing other women,” you breathe. “When I’ve been waiting for a long, long time now?”

It’s Donghyuck who stops breathing when you say it. And he can’t believe you’re saying this now, because how long? How long have you two been blindly pining for each other like this? Why did it have to take you leaving for you to realize it.

“It’s true what they say,” you suddenly say. “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Donghyuck, I won’t wait for that to happen for me to tell you how important you are to me. I won’t wait until you’re gone for you to know how much you mean to me. I’m sorry if I made you feel like the last seven years mean nothing to me—that’s not at all the case. I love you, and it sounds ridiculous when I say this but I’m leaving because I do. Love you. So much. You cannot imagine how much I do, and I’m scared that I might only love you because I’m with you all the time, which is why I’m leaving. I’m leaving and I’ll be my own person and I’ll still love you.”

“Y/N…” Donghyuck struggles. “I thought you were leaving because you didn’t want me anymore.”

“I’ve never not wanted you, Donghyuck,” you confess. “I can’t remember a time that I didn’t love you.”

Donghyuck’s tongue is tied. So, he does the next best thing.

The ring that’s been kept in pocket is beautiful when he opens it towards your direction. “It’s not a proposal,” he says right away.

“It’s a promise?” you ask, teasingly. “I told you. You’re as corny as it can get.”

“I’m literally going to throw this ring out there,” Donghyuck replies. “Show me some respect. You still work for me.”

“That’s hot.”

“Y/N!”

He closes the box and hands it over to you. “It’s yours. That’s my heart and it’s yours. You keep it if you want to. Put it back in my desk first thing in the morning if you don’t.”

You take it with both hands. “And if I wear it?”

“Then it means your heart is mine, too.”

Normally, you would snicker and say something along the lines of cheesy and unoriginal, so, Donghyuck is surprised when you lean over and give him a peck on his cheek. Donghyuck blushes even more.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Lee Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck smiles warmly, hand finding yours again. You stand and go back inside the building. He turns so he can watch you leave, and the past few weeks, simply watching you step out of his office leaves a heavy weight on his chest, but this time around he watches you with a happy, content heart, knowing that he’ll see you again tomorrow—not for the last time; tomorrow and every day, he hopes. Love always, he hopes.

[bonus: your POV]

Your last day in SM Tech isn’t as eventful as the day before. It’s mostly handing over your access badges and endorsing everything to Chenle and leaving all the reminders to Donghyuck’s desk.

You’ve bid farewell to mostly everyone, and you haven’t seen Donghyuck yet because he came in earlier than everyone else to meet his grandfather in the Chairman’s office. The ring on your finger is beautiful, and you can’t help but anticipate Donghyuck’s reaction when he sees it.

Lunch goes by, and Donghyuck is still in the Chairman’s office. You spend the rest of the day with Chenle, ensuring that you’ve endorsed everything. Jeno stops by a couple of times, checking on you and Donghyuck.

It’s around four in the afternoon when you see Donghyuck from the hallway, speaking with another VP, and he’s dressed so prettily today, a dark suit and tie, hair pushed back—handsome. You stand as he bids goodbye to the others, and you know he’s tired from the way his eyelids are drooping heavily even from afar. And when he sees you, God, when he sees you, he sighs in relief, eyes brighter than ever, as he walks towards you.

“I’m sorry, the chairman needed all his VPs all day today, none of us expected it,” he explains as soon as he reaches you. He hasn’t bothered to look at your hand yet. “You’ve had lunch, yes?”

You nod. “Chenle and I ordered sushi. You?”

“Yeah, the chairman prepared an entire banquet for us,” he answers. “Chenle, do you mind if I take Y/N away for a minute?

Chenle nods. “She’s all yours, daepyonim.”

Donghyuck smiles and takes you hand (the one without a ring), pulling you towards his office. You see Chenle smiling teasingly back in his desk.

As soon as the door is shut, Donghyuck pulls you into a hug, sighing in relief. “I needed this. And I’m sorry. It’s your last day here and I’m supposed to be by your side but you know, duty calls.”

“It’s fine,” you say, pulling back so you can look at his face, all tired and sleepy. You reach up. “You poor thing. We can go home early, if you want.”

“Yeah, I would—” You caress his face with both hands, and there, finally. “You’re wearing it.”

You nod, “Because my heart is yours.”

Donghyuck grimaces. “You’re right. It’s corny.”

“I told you.” You poke a tongue at him. “Now, may I kiss you?”

“I need a minute,” he says and you frown up at him. He untangles himself from you and walks over to his desk. “All you access have been deactivated, right?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “At exactly 4pm, my Outlook no longer allowed me to login.”

“Alright,” he says and types something on his computer. “I just need to send one important e-mail and we can go.”

Your phone buzzes from the pocket of your suit. You take it and look at the notification: a new e-mail from your personal inbox. You look up back to Donghyuck, and he’s walking back towards you with a stupid, handsome smile on his face.

You shake your head, chuckling, as you open the new e-mail.

From: lee.donghyuck@smtech.com To: youremail@personal.com

Subject: Invitation

Greetings!

I hope this e-mail finds you well. You are cordially invited for an exclusive dinner with me tonight at your choice of restaurant, with an optional (and highly encouraged) offer to cuddle at my penthouse after.

Looking forward to your response.

Love always,

Lee Donghyuck Vice President, Client Solutions | lee.donghyuck@smtech.com | SM Tech SK

happy together | m.l + l.dh [PART 1]

→husband!lee haechan x reader x bff!mark lee

genre: smut, angst, hurt, marriage au, love triangle, forbidden affair, friends to secret lovers, 90s au

synopsis: mark’s life is crumbling all around him too rapidly while the married life isn’t what either you and hyuck expected. taking in your husband’s best friend was meant to bring you good karma but all his presence is doing is stir the pot and worsen the cracks in each relationship. 

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! toxic marriage, mutual infidelity, morally grey characters, fingering, breast play, unprotected sex, car sex, oral sex (f receiving), spit kink, pet names, public sex, riding, smoking, reckless driving, mention of pet death

wc: 22.9k+  || soundtrack || ao3

finale | epilogue

© 2022 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

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

an: look at that, a yojeongin update !! I enjoyed writing this too much so I hope you guys like it. btw if you want to be tagged for part 2 just lmk or fill out the taglist form in my masterlist; btw im sorry its so long 😭 I try to shorten them but they each get increasingly longer; a playlist for this does exist so listen it please <3 spotify in my masterlist

Mark never expected his life to crumble at such an early age. It was all falling out of place so rapidly that he didn’t really know what to do. 

One second he was his college prodigy, opening exhibition after exhibition, and next he’s wheeling out suitcase after suitcase from this grimy taxi that he could barely afford last minute. The odor of rotting deli meats suffocating him the longer the car ride became.

Struggling to get them out of the car as the driver refused to even look his way, Mark cursed under his breath at how useless someone could be. But he bit his tongue as the words of his own father calling him such, rang through his ears. Perhaps he was right all along and his words were rather a prophecy than a silly scolding at the time. 

The pavement was littered with puddles of rain and the sky threatened to make more droplets fall so once all of his items were out of the car, Mark made his way towards the well kept building, reciprocating the neglect of the driver. As he drove off some puddle water splashed onto his shoes making the young man grunt in frustration. 

Life was only getting worse. 

The lobby was cold and brightly lit, almost too clean but he only dirtied it with his wet shoes dragging to the elevator. A trail of his mistakes following him around. He was freezing inside but with the note on the elevator doors reading that it was broken, Mark would surely warm up with his walk up all those stairs to the fifth floor carrying all his suitcases. 

After some inner complaining and cursing, Mark simply sighed, feeling his brain begin to swirl in frustration as he looked everywhere to find the staircase. The receptionist was of no help, slumped over the desk and intensely staring at the small television perched on the top counter, a drama in a language he couldn’t quite grasp, taking her entire attention. 

Tiresomely, Mark finally arrived to the fifth floor, pearls of sweat decorating his pretty face and the sound of labored panting slipping through his parted lips. He could barely open the door to the floor but he managed to do so even with all the luggage handles in one hand, threatening to slip and fall down the staircase. Almost like his life. 

Life was only playing joke after joke as the minute he managed to pull off the suitcases in front of him, the elevator dinged. Its doors opened widely, almost as if it was in a rush to kick out the couple that had disturbed its peaceful area. 

Their loud bantering could make anyone feel crazy and at this state right now, Mark was the most easily affected. 

“So now I’m crazy because I’m telling you that that bitch coworker of yours keeps flirting with you?” Your chuckle was anything but playful and joyous like he’d heard before. Trailing behind you, his best friend had nothing but a tired sunken look along with the anger that was bubbling up because of you alone. 

“You’re crazy in general, you don’t have to bring her up for me to know you are.” 

Mockery was delivered by the hazel haired boy that pulled at those same strands, feeling like he was pulling patches. His steps became harsher and louder to catch up to you. 

Despite his initial personal frustrations, Mark was at least glad you’d two helped to lighten his mood (argument or not). 

Just as vile spilled from his friend’s lips, your body swung, turning to your husband and taking his left arm onto one of your hands. Your grip tightening just by recalling his words. 

“Don’t fucking call me crazy,” your eyes projected the fiery pits of hell, your burning anger too obvious to try and hide. Boring holes into Haechan’s own eyes and speaking through gritted teeth hoping that he could feel a hot wrath. 

Just as he was to speak, continuing his hate filled words, your eyes averted, finally taking in the figure that stared at both of you dumbfoundedly. 

“Mark!” That seeping anger from just seconds ago had dissipated into thin air, almost as if it had never been there just from seeing an old friend. 

Letting go of your husband, you ran towards his best friend taking him by surprise with the force of your embrace against him. Mark only chuckled as he wrapped his own arms around your waist, pulling you in as tightly as you did him even if he felt gross from his work out up those stairs. 

“Stop hogging him.” Hyuck spoke poutingly, pulling at your arm to let go of his friend. Halfway off him, Hyuck took him into his own embrace, slightly uncomfortable as you refused to let go of the older male. 

“When did you get here?” Hyuck questions, taking some of the suitcases off of Mark’s hands despite his protesting. 

Shaking his head while thanking him, Mark felt your hand slightly squeeze his arm letting him know it was no problem. “Literally just got here actually.” He chuckled not before showing you a tender smile as a thank you. 

With the door finally unlocked, you pushed it widely to let him in. Mark was in awe with the way the apartment was decorated. He knew it was all your doing besides the desk in the corner of the living room that was hidden from view with the kitchen wall. That was surely Hyuck’s.

It was cozy and warm, just the way you always said you wanted your place to be and he was glad that you’d still held this up despite how things seemed to be looking. At least from the occasional letters you’d both write to him for updates.

In fact he still noticed that youthful joy and hope when he looked at you as of now. The pep in your step as you giggled towards the fridge and pulled out a beer for all of you. 

“To celebrate your new exhibition!” Naive too. 

Your smile was so wide and your eyes seemed to show how proud of him you were that he didn’t have in his heart to let you know that his life had gone downhill and his exhibition was a failure. 

You had approached him with a freezing cold bottle to the point your fingers felt numb but you graciously opened it with that silly shark bottle opener with googly eyes that bounced every time a bottle was successfully opened. 

He had given it to you once the three of you had gone to the local fair. A vendor had lent it to him to open a bottle of coke while the three of you had tacos for dinner,he ended up forgetting to give it back. 

Seeing as you had found it adorable on the ride back to his now old apartment, Mark told you to just keep it at that point. 

His eyes followed every movement of your hands, how you tried your best to move as quickly as you could when opening your own. How your hands wiped at the skirt of your dress to gain some warmth but you’d only clamp them together in pain trying to relieve some of it. 

Once you deemed them to be alright to manage, you rushed back to the kitchen followed by Donghyuck’s whining on to why you hadn’t opened his only to be received with a low and angered: “Open it yourself.” Obviously, you were still very much upset with him.   

Mark gave Hyuck a look, jokingly laughing at him for the favoritism displayed. His friend only shoved him playfully before taking the opener into his hands. 

“Sorry I wasn’t able to go to the opening. Hyuck worked until late and you know him, I can’t be out late without him. Right, dad?” You teased, turning to glare at your husband as you set down the bowl of seasoned peanuts for Mark to enjoy. Hyuck pretended to mimic you watching as you settled at Mark’s feet right across from him.

Mark continued his silent laughter, taking a chug from his drink while demonstrating the pain the coldness of it was causing in him. “It’s fine, you wouldn’t like it either way. At least others aren’t liking it.” 

Huge disappointment was laced with every word. The critics were getting to him and it was so evident in the way he spoke. With his words you looked at Hyuck questioning what was going on but he gave you no response. 

“What? Why? Your work is amazing.” You comforted him, giving his knee a slight squeeze that was only received with a smile. 

Shifting in his spot making sure to not give you a nudge or kick, he spoke, “It hasn’t really been the best days lately…” his sight shifted from you to his knees. “Some investments went horrible and the exhibition tanked. It’s doing really bad so yeah, everyone has their downfall and I guess this one’s mine.”

Even though he laughed to ease the tension, Mark felt it present in the room. Noting the pout on your face knowing you felt sorry for it, he gave a tight lipped smile. 

“Yeah, so– yeah that’s why I’m really thankful you guys are letting me stay a while here, it means a lot.” Though you never minded if he stayed, you were still confused.

Your face a dead giveaway that was making the male panic slightly. “Stay? Hyuck didn’t say any—“

“Oh… oh shit, I can leave of course,” He rubbed a hand over his face, guilt and embarrassment embroidered in his words. “My bad I didn’t mean to just barge in.”

He chuckled nervously, shifting in a way to stand without disrupting you, yet you rushed to sit besides him, taking his arm into a tight hug while telling him not to.

“No! Oh my God. No!” Desperately you’d plead, Hyuck standing up himself to sit Mark back down, his words drowning in the ocean of your apologies. 

“Nah nah, it’s fine, dude.” He was obviously tired, his eyes trying their best to not shut while trying to calm down his friend. Though drowsy, neither you or Mark missed the harsh glare he threw your way. Almost trying his best to not scold you through gritted teeth.

“I'm sorry, Mark. Hyuck just didn't tell me at all. I would've had the guest room clear for you by now, it’s full of stuff even the bed is gross—“ You stopped to catch your breath, a sigh releasing instead whilst looking at him with pleading apologetic eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, Mark. I’ll bring you some covers.” All you mustered was a nervous smile as you scurried off to the guest room for his sheets, leaving the two men alone.

Haechan leaned back on the molding couch, his legs spread enough for a person to sit between, and the perspiration of the bottle seeping through his slacks. The man was gone and tired but even then he tried his best to comfort his best friend. “I’m sorry about her—“ Mark tried cutting him off to no avail. 

“It is my fault I forgot to tell her, I mean you saw how we came home— It’s been rocky so having a normal conversation is so foreign to us now.” Neither expected him to just minimally vent about the marriage but he needed it out. Mark only nodded, uncomfortable and with no advice at hand. 

“But yeah, man— you know y/n loves you, she doesn’t mind you staying at all.” He finally cracked a smile or a laugh during this entire awkward conversation. Mark smiled in return, warm to how much love the two of you had for him.

“Thanks… It’ll be just for a bit, I promise.”

Hyuck shook his head, eyes fluttering from exhaustion. “Don’t worry about it, It’d actually be best if you just stay forever .” 

Mark’s laugh was louder and genuine this time, shaking his head in denial. As of that moment, you had emerged from the guest room.

Your presence alone was draining Hyuck. His laugh faltered and so did his smile, glowering as he sipped on his drink. 

But to Mark it only increased his giddiness, standing up to help you with his blankets and laughing even more when you pulled on your husband’s arm to get him off the larger couch and start arranging the sheets.

He didn’t wait until you finished, Donghyuck just sighed and looked at his surroundings before blurting out that he was heading to bed already in the process of pulling Mark in an embrace again.

You didn’t spare him a glance, smoothing up the cool fabric under your palm. The sound of it louder than the tapping of Haechan’s dress shoes on the cold tile.

Being left with you never felt like a drag, Mark always enjoyed his time with you so this didn’t feel much different when you began to speak. “I imagine you’re drained, huh?” You threw him a glance over your shoulder, shooing his hands away every time he tried to help you.

Mark just nodded, nervously smiling as he pulled his hands back, rubbing it the few times you swatted it. “I-I like the way you decorated the place by the way! Really screams ‘y/n’— it’s nice.” He stuttered, his nose scrunching in embarrassment.

“Thanks…” Your body faced him, words refusing to continue cascading whilst your eyes danced across his features. “It’s really the only thing I got going for myself as of now.” 

He felt his heart shatter the moment your eyes dropped, avoiding his gaze. Mark always knew you to be outspoken and firm on your desires. Before you married his best friend you were an art consultant. Hired by his company to find anything to decorate the dull walls of their building, there Donghyuck found himself drawn to you.

Every Friday he awaited impatiently, his knee bouncing just to see your beautiful smile cross the threshold of the company doors with paintings upon painting you had traveled countries to get just for his boss.

Hyuck always used the excuse that there were too many for you to have multiple trips up and down the elevator so he’d offer to help you carry them to his boss’ office.

You also looked forward to those Fridays. Back then Hyuck was loving and patient, he was playful and did anything to make you smile. Even the first times you rejected his proposals he’d come back with more potential that you ended up becoming his wife.

It’s not that you didn’t want to be with him but because of your job. You spent weeks or even months in different areas of the country or abroad so knowing this relationship would be long distance didn’t help.

By the time you had agreed, the company had terminated their business with you and you had gotten a job in the city to relax from the chaos traveling constantly would bring.

In Mark’s eyes you were always strong willed. When Haechan finally introduced you during one of Mark’s exhibitions, the older male was in awe to know Hyuck had found someone so perfect. 

At the time you matched his energy very well. The both of you were outgoing yet always stood your ground. If anyone, especially your now husband did anything you didn’t like— you’d call him out on it.

Hence Mark always felt like he was walking on eggshells until he learnt that he could do no wrong in your eyes because you saw yourself in him.

The both of you had the fine arts to bond about, he was easy to talk to, and he was always supportive of your hobbies as you were of his. Hell— you even invested in some of his pieces to show you’d be there for him.

Many would side eye the relationship you had with Mark but Hyuck understood how perfect the three of you were and if his best friend would do anything for his girl, then she was the one.

Mark didn’t know how or when it happened but all he knew as of now was that Haechan managed to make you docile in a way. But he also knew he did something to piss you immensely. 

Your coworkers, before he made you quit were lovely but he was convinced many of the men there had other plans for you despite many being in relationships or just nice people.

It didn’t help that his own coworkers were all venomous and envious snakes that fed him ideas. It was quite sad actually, how the people that saw that relationship bloom were the same ones trying to tear it down so here the both of you were, always seconds away from yanking at each other’s hair and clawing at their face.

It was disheartening to say the least. Everything was changing for the worse.

“Have a good night, Mark.” 

Cutting his thoughts off, you squeezed his shoulder, leaving him in the dim lighting of the lamp beside him. 

Not giving him the chance to reply, Mark nodded to himself with a tight lipped smile as he turned the lamp off. 

Loneliness swallowed him again, his eyes adjusting to the darkness but the city lights worked as a nightlight regardless. He wouldn’t admit it but he really needed both you and Hyuck with him in that instant.

His head hit the pillow, eyelids felt heavy, allowing him to drift off to a deep yet short slumber. Mark was tired, yes, but his mind, though in pain, still ran his thoughts through. Destroying any chances of rest. His slumber lasted merely half an hour until the bright fluorescent lights and honking of the city awoke him.

In addition the whispers emitting from the main room gripped his hearing forcefully, not letting him go until he heard every vile thing you and Hyuck told each other.

“I didn’t mean to sound rude—“

“Yeah, well you could’ve tried to sound better.” 

He heard the shuffling of bed sheets.

“You never told me he was staying, I could’ve cleared out the other room. Poor guy has to sleep on the stiff couch. I mean why the fuck do you need an extra room for? Your desk is in the living room and you don’t even use it.”

Exasperation was laced in your voice, he didn’t know how to entirely feel but that guilt of intruding your livelihood was horrible.

“Those postcards are collectibles, y/n. For all you know they could be worth more than this apartment in the future.”

Mark imagined you rolled your eyes before speaking. “They’re worth ten cents right now, how could they possibly be worth anything any time soon?” 

A pout emerged on his lips. He wondered if that’s what people thought about his work right now but you were once the art consultant so who else is better to know the worth of something? 

“Fuck, fine! Clean out the room but throw away some of your stuff you don’t need too.”

“Like what?”

He heard defiance.

“I don’t know, why don’t you start with all the paint you have? You don’t ever work on anything anymore, all you did was waste money on that stuff.”

Hyuck shifted in his spot, turning to your body now. “You haven’t finished that little ug— little painting you were working on.” He swallowed his remaining words.

You simply scoffed and shook your head in disbelief. “That little ugly painting you were gonna say?”

“No.” He answered untruthfully. 

“Right— I’m just going to go clean the room now.” 

You tried getting off the bed before feeling his grasp on your wrist, almost begging you for forgiveness but also with the grip of an angry possessive man.

“You’re going to wake him up.” He didn’t apologize, that only cemented your determination even more.

Yanking your wrist from his grasp without first feeling that burn, you scooted towards the edge putting your slippers on before walking towards the entrance, Donghyuck watching your every move.

Managing to open the door as quietly as you could, with a leg out already, you turned to your lover. “It’s a realistic portrait of you, just so you know.” He ignores your words but you can still notice his distaste in the way his eyes gloss over. That was enough of a reaction for you.

Finally shutting the door behind you, you lower your head slightly, tired of this constant cycle. You would’ve walked towards the spare room but in the instant you lifted your head you noticed the subtle rustling of Mark’s spiked hair scurrying to hide from your sight.

Tip-toeing towards the back of the couch, you lean over seeing his back turned to the cushions. Smiling to yourself as his lids twitched showing how bad of a liar he was; you giggled softly.

“I know you’re not asleep, nosey.” Your hand reached for his cheek, squeezing it softly. Mark couldn’t contain it anymore, he just smiled as his eyes fluttered open while apologizing.

“It’s cool, nothin’ new.” Climbing over the back of the couch, Mark made space for you to lay beside. “Did you, uh… Did you hear anything?” 

Settled by the edge of the couch, Mark wraps one of his arms around your shoulders hoping that’s enough to not make you fall.

“Not really.” His smile didn’t falter, not even when you gave him a stoic nod knowing he’s lying. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

“Lights are too bright.” 

They were hitting your face as you laid beside him. Silence settled between the both of you until you got closer to him. Laying your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his torso.

You didn’t really give him time to process what had gone on since you began talking, only giving him the option of holding you as well. “You know I don’t mind that you’ll stay here, right? I love it when you come around.” 

“I hope so.” He replied

You granted him laughter, “Stop, you know I do! You’ve always been so fun, Mark. Are you going to give me company these days?” 

‘You’re so fun, Mark.’ The words echoed in his mind as he tried to process what to say.

“Of course. While I look for a place and an actual job as my father would say.” Though Mark tried to play it off, it was obvious he was insanely hurt.

“Do you still paint?” You deflected, he nods and asks: “Do you?” You respond with a shake of your head and a tender smile.

“We should do something tomorrow then. Rest for tonight, alright?” He nods letting you know you should too, shifting in hopes to find an angle the city lights wouldn’t bother him.

All you managed to do was close the blinds and curtains once you stood, hoping that was enough for now. For now it seemed like it was, smiling as you walked over to him one last time. Crouching down to his level, Mark smiled seeing your face one last time tonight.

Before he could scold you to get some rest, he felt your lips on his cheek whispering a sweet ‘goodnight’ once again.

Mark couldn’t form any words, he was utterly shocked and slightly confused but it was also past 2AM and you were probably just tired and slightly tipsy so he tried to ignore it— it was an innocent remark, just that…

As the weeks progressed it seemed Mark could slightly see why you had kissed him goodnight that first day. 

The longer he stayed with you and Donghyuck he noticed how lonely you were. Hyuck spent most of his days in the office and when he arrived home it was already late so all he could do was shower and head straight to bed.

He’d greet Mark normally but when it came to you he could barely even look your way. If he came back tipsy after a meeting then he would kiss you as a greeting but other than that it was as if a corpse was walking amongst you.

On his days off, Hyuck would lounge on the couch while watching TV expecting you to cater to him but when it was obvious you’d continue to ignore his existence, he’d dress up and head back to the office.

Mark hated to admit it but he preferred when Haechan wasn’t home. It was a living hell when he was. You were always so lively when it was just you and him. If Hyuck came around your entire mood faltered and it was a struggle to bring it back.

He was glad that he had managed to get you to paint again. In this time together, Mark had helped you with detailing and different techniques. You had also found that oil pastel was a new medium you preferred. 

Mark could now see why having a roommate or a lover was sought out so much. You and him would spend your days at the downtown markets fishing for fresh produce for home made meals you two would plan or just simply finding an excuse to escape the confinement that apartment was for you.

Mark had also learnt how to better his cooking from you and how to properly take care of plants. That is because the both of you decided to buy one and help it grow— together . To be quite honest you always thought of plants as such a huge responsibility, you simply didn’t want to do it alone.

It was going great, at least for you two. The more time he spent there the less you cared about what Hyuck was doing without you. The less you cared about Donghyuck. 

But for now, those thoughts needed to disappear and you two had to think about him regardless. 

Despite the horrid summer heat in September, Mark put himself in the kitchen monitoring the stew as you got dressed up for tonight's event. Whining to himself about how hot it was getting in the kitchen. But this was you– and his best friend of course– so he didn’t want to complain.

“Do you want me to turn off the stove? I think it’s starting to dry up.” Mark called out, watching the red bubbles flow from one side to another, avoiding the pieces of pork and vegetables before they’d burst.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Uh, hey— how does it look?” Mark turned with the sound of your voice, his eyes taking a while to process how beautiful you looked before him. To say he was speechless was an understatement. It felt as if the air in his entire body had been knocked out and his voice was robbed.

“Is it too much?” You asked nervously at his silence. Trying to aid that, he shook his head with a smile on his face, taking one of your hands into his to twirl you around. Though as innocent as it was, Mark couldn’t help his wandering eyes, admiring the beauty you always have been. 

He loved how the purple dress hugged your body and he loved how the lacing of your heels wrapped around your smoothen calves. They matched the nylor top coat of the dress, beaded flowers on both items.

He loved how your collarbones looked, shimmers from glittered lotion helping them. The straps tied around your neck making it a halter dress, and he loved how happy you looked.

Mark wasn’t fully sure what this brewing feeling was but he knew it wasn’t good. 

Hyuck wasn’t someone Mark ever found himself being jealous of, he was his best friend after all. Mark had only loved and supported his best friend but right now it was killing him. The feeling wasn’t strong enough but he knew it could grow quickly.

It was killing him to realize he and you have spent all day preparing for tonight. Cooking Hyuck’s favorite meal and dessert, cleaning every nook and cranny of the apartment, and even buying postcards for his collection despite how you felt about it.

Even when Donghyuck has been nothing but a dipshit to you this entire time Mark’s stayed with you two; you went out of your way to make this anniversary a good one.

To be exact, Mark was jealous of Hyuck for having someone who loved him despite all he’s put you through.

“You look ravishing.” Mark let out in a breath, your concern turning into a grand smile and thanking him with a hug. 

Turing to grab the pot of stew, Mark placed it on the decorated dinner table as you followed with glasses and wine. 

“Okay, got everything?” He questioned one last time after wiping his hands on his jeans, making his way to the entrance door.

Looking around, you nodded as a response. Turning to the clock on the microwave, Mark grabbed his jacket, getting the clue. “Alright then, he should be here soon so just page me whenever it’s fine to come back.” 

Mark smiled your way, almost as if he was excited for you when he knew he wasn’t. 

Just as he was to turn and leave, a thought crossed his mind. “By the way— has he said anything?” His eyebrows furrowed and some doubt was visible but you just shrugged with an awkward smile.

“No… but he always acts like he forgets when we have anything big coming up.” You laugh to ease those nerves he’s created. 

“Plus, I saw a box a while ago in one of his desk drawers and I think it’s a bracelet.” You tried to defend Hyuck, even when you nervously played with the flowers on the table. Even though you were trying to act giddy, Mark couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for these feelings he’s created. 

“Alright… have fun then!” Mark walked to you quickly, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on your cheek that you received with a smile before returning it. You felt your arms tingle with the warmth of his skin, lightheaded when he removed himself from you.

The second Mark closed the door behind him, you sat with that anxious pit in your stomach waiting for your husband to arrive. You didn’t know if it was for what he had created when it came to Hyuck or for his touch– nevertheless it’s September 7th: Your anniversary. That’s all that should matter now.

You knew Hyuck arrived home late so you didn’t put it past him to do so on your wedding anniversary but the more the clock ticked and the needles cycled around with no sign of him, you felt vile begin to form in your throat. 

It was coming around to be 10pm, then 11pm, and before you knew it 2am had rolled around and all that was left was the uncovered pot of stew covered by a layer of grease, wilted flowers crumbling down, and napkins full of smeared makeup and snot.

You were trying your best to not think about it much. You didn’t want to think about how foolish you were to think that despite how much you and Hyuck weren’t on the best terms as of the past months, that that love you once shared would triumph at least on your anniversary. 

It was clear enough to you that he didn’t care anymore. So picking up yourself and your pride you made your way towards the restroom, wiping away the remains of your makeup and preparing for bed before paging Mark to come home. 

He didn’t think twice about it when he felt the vibration against his hip, it was until he saw you sadly pour the stew into containers that he felt his heart drop to his stomach.

There was no sign of Donghyuck anywhere in the apartment and it made his blood boil. All he could do was walk your way, taking the pot and washing it while you put the container away in the fridge. 

“So… wanna go on a bike ride tomorrow? We can get lunch, and then we can head to a music shop. I know you’ve been meaning to buy a CD player. Oh a picnic sounds perfect.” He knew it would do no good talking about his best friend and it was just best to ignore the subject.

You had been trying so hard to not cry this entire time that Mark offered to spend time with you but it made that barrier break and the waterworks to cascade. Mark felt guilty, as if he had said something wrong and he didn’t know what to do besides take you into and embrace and whisper apologies against your hair that he caressed as your back.

“Y/n, please. I’m so sorry if I sa—“

“No, it’s not— just— why can’t he be like you?” 

Mark felt his heart ache and it got worse the more you cried against his chest, your arms tightening around his waist. He could smell the sweet scent of wine mixed into the one of your minty toothpaste. He could only assume that you had gotten drunk from despair.

“It’s okay… why don’t you go to sleep? We have a big day tomorrow, I'll finish cleaning up.” You didn’t have it in you to deny him, you were too tired and distraught from this little stunt Haechan pulled on you that you just wanted to lay down at least. 

Simply nodding, you gave him a last tight squeeze before letting him go, looking up at him with a thankful smile. Perhaps it was the alcohol but the longer you stared at him, the more you noticed how much more you adored Mark. That same tingle he created earlier was presenting itself in an excruciating way.

He was the sweetest boy you’ve known, he treats you so well and expects nothing in return, and he’s always been supportive of you.

Temptation was always lurking and his rosey lips looked enticing more and more but it seems he caught onto your thoughts that he swallowed the lump in his throat. Clearing his throat, Mark smiles at you whispering a tender ‘goodnight’ that you repeated kissing his forehead before walking straight to the bedroom.

Mark felt frightened while you stared at him. Truth be told if you had kissed him, he would’ve let you and even kissed you back but right now he couldn’t. At least not when you’re so vulnerable, tipsy, and also his best friend’s wife.

Fuck… his best friend’s wife. 

The second that door closed behind you, Mark let out a hampered breath, scolding himself for ever thinking about you in that aspect. They were only worsening as the days passed by.

Running his hand over his face and throwing his head back, Mark headed back to the kitchen. Though temporarily, washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen had aided him in forgetting those rising feelings. But like always they’d creep up once he was able to think freely again.

He tried to sleep that guilt away, tossing and turning hoping with every move it would shake out of his bones and leave through the open window but nothing worked. Frustrated with how easily the idea of kissing you had disturbed him, Mark grunted on his way up to the window. Taking a hold of his cigarette box that laid on the kitchen counter.

It was already 4am nearing five when he had finished cleaning for you but even so Hyuck hadn’t arrived until now when Mark leaned against the windowsill with the stick between his lips. 

Lighting it, he shakes his head with a breathy laugh that makes smoke blow out of his lips. “Unbelievable.” He tells himself, eyes following the drunken moves of his friend and laughter from the men inside the car. 

He counted the minutes and seconds until Donghyuck was to arrive at the apartment, his loud steps not missed. 

“55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60… 1, 2—‘ 

The glowing red within the cigarette consuming more and more of the paper and herb, warming up where he held it, a clear sign that he should get a new one. Exactly when the warmth of the butt was becoming unbearable, Mark threw it out to the street hearing the doorknob rattle upon Haechan opening the door.

In his giddy drunken state, the young man smiled seeing his best friend, rushing to him to embrace him as he loudly greeted him. 

“What are you still doing awake? Wanna have a drink?” He asks in between laughs, rushing to the fridge and grabbing two bottles, easily opening them with just the back of a knife. Mark took it without a thank you, lighting up another cigarette with so much disgust in his face the longer he looked at the state of his best friend.

Lips swollen and red, glitter littered all over his body and sticking to the sweat of his neck that was stained with rouge and purple kisses. He reeked of expensive cigarettes and alcohol and his slacks had stains that could only make him gag from just imagining.

Mark simply shook his head, scoffing at the antics of his friend. His guilt was gone seeing how much worse Hyuck could be than him. Taking a swig of the beer, Mark glared at his friend. “What is wrong with you? It’s so fucking late.” He viciously asked, inhaling smoke from his new cigarette.

Hyuck laughed, taking one from Mark’s box and lighting it to join his friend. “Okay, mom.” He replied, feeling as if he was just jesting but when Mark’s expression didn’t change he was becoming visibly frustrated. After all, what did Mark care about? He was just staying with them.

“Not for me but for y/n. She’s been waiting all day for you. You’ve really fucked her over, Donghyuck.” 

Mark doesn't call him Donghyuck— ever. Only times he’s done so is when he’s angered him badly and right now he couldn’t understand why he cared so much about you and him. Putting down his bottle and turning to his friend, Hyuck’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth felt slightly agape. “What does it matter to you? It’s just another day.” His voice, gruff and deep now.

The smoke Haechan blew out made its way to Mark’s face, creating a more hostile night for the two. He wasn’t going to back down. In all his years he’s never seen you cry and he wasn’t going to let that slide. 

Mark mirrored Hyuck’s dissatisfied expression, coming closer to his friend in defiance. “You smell like shit with signs of another bitch all over you on your anniversary, dipshit. Is it still just another day?” 

And it crashed down upon him when Mark’s finger crushed itself against his chest, poking him as a wakeup call from the drunken daze he was in. Feeling as if a bucket of water had been dropped on him, Hyuck’s eyes widened in horror, fingers threading with his hair and yanking at it with anger like the day Mark had arrived.

“Fuck—“ He took a seat, putting off his cigarette on the ashtray. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I don’t have a present either, what the fuck am I gonna do?” 

Fear was all over his face, his eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep, rocky night, and the frustration from how you’d treat him for the following weeks or even months until you forgot it.

Mark didn’t care, he only focused on his statement about the gift. Angered, he finished off the second cigarette before glaring at his friend more. “She found a bracelet in your drawers, what do you mean you don’t have a gift?” 

Hyuck had never seen Mark this angry before but for now he would focus on his own problems. “Who is it for? Are you fucking with me? Are you cheating on her? I love you, you're a brother to me but I will beat your ass if you fuck her over, Hyuck— promise to God I will.”

It was an eratic moment to spew such words that Hyuck’s expressions smoothened and his fright dissipated. All that was left was a twinge of curiosity the more his eyes squinted. 

‘Interesting.’ He thought, the gears in his brain hating this new feeling just as Mark was hating his own new feelings as well.

“It’s for my mother’s birthday… but I guess I’ll give it to her now.” He collectively spoke, his words coming out slowly still processing Mark’s attitude. Mark didn’t seem to pick up on Hyuck’s peaking interest, shaking his head with obvious discontent. 

“No, you have to get something meaningful. Something special, I mean she got you something you wanted, she spent all day preparing for you. You can’t just do something like that, Hyuck.” 

“Fine, I’ll take her out to dinner tomorrow and how about you get the present?” He hoped that was good enough to get Mark off his back or at least to get his help. After all, he is his best friend.

Mark sat in complete disgust and anger. “You didn’t hear shit I just said, did you?” An angered smirk as he scoffed before finishing his beer. Hyuck grunted in frustration, his eyes screaming: ‘What more do you want from me?’ The wider they got. “Dude, I don’t have time, you know this.”

But it was useless, Mark just glared at him one last time before nodding. “Fine.” He grumbled in disapproval. “Alright, thank you.” Hyuck added with his own annoyance laced into it. Fishing for his wallet, he handed Mark one of his credit cards before silently walking to the room ending the night for both of them.

Lonely and angry.

Thankfully enough when waking, you were the ray of sunshine that made his day better. Driving almost an hour to the countryside, Mark and you spent it entirely on rented bikes.

Going to the nearest park the two of you had a picnic at, mainly focusing on how to sweeten each other’s mood and avoid thinking about last night. Though Mark drowned out the fears he had just last night, you felt them flourishing within you.

You liked that he was gentle with you and treated you nicely. If you ever argued with Mark it was over the taste of something and not about how useless he thought your likings were.

He cooked and cleaned if you weren’t in the mood. If you were he’d help, he just made sure to not let all the burden fall on you. 

You liked Mark. You always had but right now the lines between platonic and loneliness were blurring. Enough that this day felt like a date and not just friends hanging out.

It didn’t matter though, at least you were glad there was someone out there to listen to you. Just as he did now the longer you talked while walking inside a small shop of antiques.

Finishing the drink you held in your hand, Mark held the door open for you. Words cascading from your lips as he admired every single one of them. Even when he took your cup to throw away before roaming around, his eyes didn’t leave your face.

The only time he was able to remove his gaze from you was the moment he heard your excited squeal while rushing towards the jewelry section and gawking at a seemingly golden locket.

The smooth metal etched with intricate vines filled with flowers, glimmering in the sunlight that shot through the vast windows behind the counter. Mark admired the shine in your eyes. How they glossed over and sparkled in adoration, almost as if this was the last thing you’d want before you died. 

He supposed you could feel his intense staring that you turned to smile at him before clutching his arm, feeling you shake a bit. “It seems silly but my mom gave me one exactly like this one when I was a little kid and I always wore it,” 

You shifted your leg. “But when I moved in with Hyuck it went missing. I guess you could’ve called it a warning.” You laughed trying to ease the underlying message as you continued. “Ever since I lost it things haven’t gone well, perhaps it was my lucky charm; and it’s been so difficult finding a new one that makes me feel the same as the one she gave me but it hasn’t worked out.” 

Feeling your head lay on his shoulder as you stared at the piece without touching it, Mark looked down upon you. That odd feeling manifesting itself once again and tearing at his intestines. 

“How much is it?” He questioned, feeling you shake a bit more. “Uh—“ You separate yourself from him, the trembling from your legs increasing and your breathing hitching in the back of your throat. 

Whether it was because you had to go to the restroom or solely for the price alone. “Damn… Hyuck would kill me if I spent that much on a simple necklace.” You stated, before fully separating yourself from him and whining that you had to go to the restroom before he tried to oppose his friend’s view on spending.

Hyuck couldn’t be this frivolous, right? Well, Mark couldn’t really judge how other people spent their money, after all his reckless way of living is what has him crashing at his best friend’s place.

But this is you and Donghyuck he was talking about. Sure he wouldn’t care that his wife spent money on something so meaningful and after his arrival last night it was evident he spent his own money grossly.

Nevertheless Haechan told him to buy you a gift you’d appreciate and this was the perfect one. Whether it was too much or not, he was never given a budget and Hyuck would have to deal with it on his own.

So while you remained in the restroom, Mark rushed to the register, pleading with the cashier to quickly wrap it for a gift. While she tried her best to make it look presentable, his desperate staring was making her nervous to where she fumbled with the chain and the box.

If it wasn’t because there was a timer on how quickly you’d come out he would’ve been slightly upset at how messy it was but now that he could hear the creaking of the door far in the back inside this silent shop, he couldn’t care less how badly the presentation was. After all, he'll fix it while you get ready for tonight’s date with your husband .

The closer the tapping of your shoes got, the bigger the rush he gained while swiping the card and signing the receipts, hoping the cashier would hurry up on her end as well. Poor girl.

And when he could see your silhouette from his peripheral view whilst you looked around the rest of the knick-knacks, he shoved the box and receipt into the inner pocket of his jacket, unintentionally glaring at the girl despite thinking his gaze was apologetic.

“Ready to go?” He questioned, patting his chest hoping the imprint wasn’t visible. “Yeah…” You dragged out, a pout on your lips as your gaze turned to the display the necklace was on. At its disappearance, your eyebrows furrowed and your pout deepened. 

“What?” He questioned, holding out his arm for you to grab again. “And the locket?” You ask, he was about to answer when the cashier interrupted the both of you. 

“Someone had bought it before you came, they’ll be here shortly to pick it up so I just packed it. I’m so sorry if you were interested in it.” Her tender smile made your pout soften, telling her it was fine as you dragged Mark out dejectedly.

Despite knowing he had gotten it for you, Mark couldn’t let that disappointment you held go. Hopefully as of now when Hyuck was to give you the locket, that you’d feel better and forgive your husband even when he most likely didn’t deserve it.

When Hyuck had arrived and told you about his plans, it didn’t change the tense ambient that had been created upon his arrival. Though you reluctantly got ready while Hyuck moped about your mood, he was praying to all entities that you’d both let it go once the date was over. Even if deeply and unconsciously he felt put off by the both of you together— a twinge of jealousy. 

The restaurant was cold and dim, dull. Though he tried making conversation and you tried to answer, that deep built up of anger was clogging your throat, choking you with its fiery vexation.

Hyuck was beginning to feel his own frustrations bubbling up the colder you became towards him. He was trying his best to make this an enjoyable night but when you’ve spent your entire days fighting— things like these become a heavy task.

When nothing else worked, Hyuck reached for the inside of his suit jacket, pulling the box Mark had handed him rushedly whilst he pushed the both of you out of the apartment in hopes the air would finally clear.

“Y/n.” He called out for you, your fork resting on the plate as you averted your gaze towards him, humming in response. His free hand reached for yours, clutching it tightly as a plea to please forgive him for all his wrong doings (As if a measly dinner could fix all his invective words).

“I know I fucked up royally last night,” Your eyebrow quirked in sarcasm. “But I’m truly sorry for ruining our day for work. I’m sorry I prioritized it over our marriage and perhaps it’s the reason we haven’t been doing so well these past couple of months along with other reasons…”

He sighed, his fingers intertwining with yours as his glossy eyes trembled trying to look into your cold muted ones. “And I know this dinner doesn’t amount to anything you deserve, so at least take this…” His hand left yours, that coldness from before remaining. 

“To show I love you so much more than I can love anyone or anything.” Upon opening the box, your face lit up and you sat up straight. Your eyes are no longer cold, instead they are excited and warm.

You felt the need to cry, to weep and forgive him as it seemed he did know all along about your locket. That is until you opened your mouth. “So it was you?! You bought it from that shop?” You excitedly questioned as he stood to put it on you.

Kissing your cheek, glad you finally caved in. Standing behind you to put it on not caring if people were to see, his cold fingers graced your equally cold skin, making him slightly shiver. 

“Uh, yeah. It’s really simple, nothing too special. Would’ve gotten you something prettier but I know you like things like this, found it down the street from the apartment but I thought it’d look beautiful on you.” He cleared his voice before allowing his lips to fall upon yours.

Perhaps this kiss would have meant more to you but hearing him lie about where ‘he’ had bought it was making your guts churn in pain. He truly will never stop lying to you, huh?

In the matter of seconds as he sat down and looked back at you, Hyuck couldn’t help but notice your eyes dimming again. “I see.” You’d mildly continued, giving him a small smile and dropping it. 

Easy as that, a smile was enough for him to feel like he had gotten you back. Taking your hand into another grasp as he chose a dessert for you both; your returning scowl went unnoticed.

You loved Hyuck. You think you do, he is the man you married but why does he continue disappointing you so much? At what point in a relationship do the things the other person does become insufferable? 

At what point do you look forward to not spending time with them and instead find comfort in someone else? It seems that you have reached this point. 

Morally, it was consuming you. You were supposed to be the perfect housewife that keeps the home clean and given him a child by this point but all you were was a wreck longing for her old independent life while thinking about spending time with her husband’s best friend.

 What he did to lead to what you two were now was not helping this case anymore.

After Hyuck had given himself away that he hadn’t bought the locket for you, the only person you could think about was Mark. There’s no way someone else could’ve bought it before you two just for it to end in your hands. 

The inscriptive inside of the box with the shop logo was also a dead giveaway of where it was bought, something Hyuck should’ve looked at if he had fabricated his lie well. Or perhaps Mark had set him up for failure and just told him to give it to you.

A part of you wants that latter to be true, for Mark to wedge himself into the relationship to create some excitement but you knew it wouldn’t happen. Not only because he was Donghyuck’s best friend, your own close friend, and because he just isn’t that type of person . 

In conclusion Mark was the only one who could’ve obtained it for you and had managed to get the cashier to lie for him. Mark is the only one who knows the meaning of your fixation on that locket. Only he would buy something that has a meaning for you to obtain. 

All you were worried about was how he paid for it when he was in a crisis as of now and hoped Hyuck had paid him back as he was the one to give it to you after all. 

And as the quiet car ride back to the apartment fell silent besides the hushed radio playing in the background, Hyuck walked in celebrating as if anything had truly changed. 

“Wine or beer, baby?” He questioned, his hand on the fridge handle looking at the inventory. Your mind elsewhere, eyes wandering and looking for signs of Mark. 

To no avail, you turned to your husband, grabbing the bottle of beer in his hand. Hyuck kissed your cheek for the second time this night, following it with a peck to your lips as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Is he here?” He questioned, reading your mind. You only shook your head, looking into his eyes wondering if his question was out of realizing your reasons or for his own. With your response, he smirked, his face moving closer to you. His pillowy lips found yours, taking them into a kiss full of yearning. 

His hand creeped across your torso, dangerously inching up to your breast, feeling him squeeze through the fabric of your dress. It’s been a while since he’s touched you, mainly due to how often you’d both go to sleep angry at each other but right now was the chance. 

Even if you were tired of his ways, you’d still let him. The feeling of lust taking over you but slowly the thought of Mark tried pushing through your brain. 

Hyuck’s cold fingers found themselves under the fabric, grasping the mound and giving it a slight squeeze. Your lips continued enveloping against each other, him smirking when your breathy moan spilled against his. 

He chuckled looking at your state, flushed at the steaminess of the situation, his other hand bunching up your dress enough to where he could slip his hand in between your legs easily. 

“Hyuck…” you moaned, resting your forehead on his chest, the grumble from his extended chuckle making you shake. “Yeah?” He asks, his delicate fingers gracing over the warm fabric of your panties that slowly moistened the more he touched you. 

You tried talking but felt your voice tremble with every syllable, barely pushing out the name that’s been manifesting itself all this time. “M-Mark—“ 

The moment his friend’s name came out as a moan to his ears, Hyuck stopped his assault, standing up frustratedly. “What did you say?” He questioned with darkened eyes, scared and angry that you could possibly do that to him (despite what he’s done to you.)

Despite how much you both fight each other, you both were good at reading each other’s body languages. His hostile figure made you act fast and pushed his hand back in between your legs as he reluctantly began to touch you just out of suspicion. 

“I just meant that he might not be far…” you gasp, leaning closer to kiss him softly compared to the teasing, teeth-clashing ones from earlier. “So maybe, fuck—“ the pressure on your clit increasing, softly circling it. 

“Maybe— hurry.” You bit your lip, his anger dissipating and that shit eating grin returning the second he opted to slip his hand inside the purple fabric of your panties, the wetness making it stick to the upside of his hand. 

Hyuck chuckled at the scene before him, it had been so long since you two had been intimate and seeing how you melted onto his touch was doing things to him. Your whimpers and moans fueling his hurt ego and the further his fingers teased your entrance, thumb rubbing at your clit— it grew more and more. 

“Oh? Have you been holding it the entire night? I can feel it sliding down my hand. Maybe I should get a taste?” He teased, his fingers threatening to leave your slickness and reach his lips when your speedy hands prevented any movement that wasn’t caresses to your needy cunt. 

He chuckled loudly, leaning down to bite your swollen lower lip before kissing you softly. “Hyuckie, stop being such a tease!” You dragged out, becoming more forceful with the kiss. His tongue swiped against yours, the warm satin feel mirroring the wetness between your legs onto his digits. 

“You haven’t called me that in a while… Ah my princess does need me!” Ecstatically his word embedded into your lips, rewarding you with a second finger that at most was just as cruelly teasing as the one before. 

You whined even more hoping he’d find it in his heart to plunge his fingers deep into your crevice but knowing him and how insanely cruel he can be, the hope dwindled the more he teased your entrance with just the tips and pulling them back out to hear your glorious cries. He wanted to cave into you. He wanted to please you as he had in the past but this seemed to be the only efficient way he could actually make you pay for the way you’ve treated him for these past months. 

Yet despite his vexatious actions to further embitter you and start his own sort of revenge, he couldn’t do it. Deep in his heart he knew he still loved you like he used to. He simply had to give in to you, as much as it pained him how easily he submits to you. 

Determined enough with the melting of his hateful heart, Hyuck leaned in to kiss you and ease that pent up frustration. “I love you so much, y/n.” He whispered against them, your whimpers swallowing the words you couldn’t process or at least refused to believe were true. 

But glory blessed you as his fingers began to prod at your labia and soon found your opening. Your moans were too loud, those demonstrating how long he’s left you to fend on your own that the simplest of touch could lead you to where you’re at. 

He shushed you calmly, smiling against your mouth while you gnawed on his lips, your hands reaching for his aching erection. With the swift touch of your delicate fingers over the textile, Haechan whined, his fingers prodding deeper into your cavern. He didn’t move them yet, a third finger taunting you as you rushed to unbuckle his belt used as a reward to grant you more satisfaction. 

“You’re close, honey. Almost there.” He cooed with a needy and proud smile, his free hand petting your hair to incentivize you to continue as a great reward would soon come. His third finger taunting your opening while his thumb circled your clit to create more arousal. 

When your nimble fingers had finally gotten rid of the worn leather, you pulled at it, throwing it across the kitchen to the living room without a care where it fell. Hyuck granted you with an excited laugh, pulling you in for a kiss as he slowly pushed in his third finger, the tip of it softly gracing through. 

“Good girl! My God you’re too good for me! ” He spoke in between kisses, your tongue asking for more, caressing his lower lip. Hyuck admired the fucked out state you were in. Your eyes hooded and dark with need, your lipstick smudge from all these kisses, and your arousal seeped from around his fingers dribbling down your legs as tears would on your cheeks. 

You were so needy, anything and any movement could make you release now and though you’ve masturbated throughout this dry spell you both put yourselves through— nothing could amount to how good he makes you feel even if it’s just with fingers. So of course you were needy, of course you wanted his fingers stuffed inside you and you wanted him to finally move them inside you.

That would’ve happened, if it wasn’t for Mark. 

Hyuck whispered against your lips how he’d start moving his fingers now. His pillowy lips molding against yours, pulling you by your hair closer to his starving mouth; his fingers began to slowly move and as you were beginning to feel the pleasure your husband always granted you— the front door creaked open, too fast that all you two could muster was for Hyuck to remove his fingers from inside you in a hurry as he refused to let go of your lips. 

The kiss didn’t last long, for odd reasons it was you who didn’t want Mark to see more of the scene. His subtle lingering gaze on your organism made you feel small under him, as if he was exhibiting some sort of disappointment or ache. His despondent expression left immediately to one of a playful smile, almost giving you whiplash from it. 

“Good night I’m guessing.” He joked, removing his jacket and putting away the box of cigarettes in his hand. “Yeah, I guess so.” Hyuck laughed, turning his back to both of you. You didn’t stop looking at Mark, hoping he’d react to what he just saw even if you knew what you wanted him to react with. He didn’t though, he just gave you a nod to acknowledge your presence. 

Your husband continued to make conversation with his friend, the one trying to avoid you for his own reasons. It was odd to say the least, on both of your parts. It was odd that minutes prior you were too enthralled with the man you’re married to but right now all you want was for Mark to say something to you, you almost wanted to apologize to him for having him walk into that scene.

You didn’t want to say it or think it— as the months pass by you’ll realize it felt like you were betraying him instead and not your husband. 

Mark knew what you wanted though but he would pretend it was all in his head as he is still trying to process the discovery he’s made: he’s falling for his best friend’s wife. 

So for the time being he’ll do his best to keep this relationship as it has been for the past years. Simple and platonic. 

“But yeah, I think the meal was good. Y/n? What did you think?” Hyuck’s voice broke you out of the void, turning to him and then Mark. “I liked it, yeah.” Simply put. Hyuck deviated the conversation, opening the fridge to pull a drink for both you and him, asking Mark if he’d like one but in order to avoid you given it was harder for him to ignore your silent cry for a pick of attention— he opted to choose the going to sleep technique to leave the setting. 

Mark shook his head, opening the door to the guest room to throw in his jacket. A tender tiresome smile, “Nah, it’s cool. I’m going to sleep, you guys continue to enjoy your night.”  Hyuck simply shrugged, turning to the cabinets to pick out some snacks. In the moment he had done so, you rushed towards Mark, grasping his arm to stop him from fully entering the room. 

He froze at the contact, feeling the area become warmer than his remaining body. Mark’s shocked face gave him away, he wasn’t meant for this type of situation. “I just—“ you turned quickly to look at Hyuck, the man still distracted with the boxes of popcorn. 

“I just want to thank you.” Your remaining hand showing him the locket, a smile forming on his lips, one you mimicked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A shit eating grin while blush krept upon his beautiful chiseled cheeks, making your chest burn up at how you enjoyed that look on him. “Right… It means quite a lot actually— again, thank you, Mark. You truly do know your way to a girl's heart.” 

You whispered the words, pulling him closer towards you and kissing his cheek as he grasped your hip in fear of any more proximity. It was quick but it felt eternal for you both, the fire in both of you making it difficult for him to go inside the room. 

And though you both felt a beautiful yet painful fire, Hyuck from the corner of his eye saw such action, his own fire scorching with a new found feeling he was not liking. 

“Hm…” he hummed quietly to himself, a pout ensuing on his lips, pretending it was nothing. I mean, he was his best friend and you were his wife— That’s. All. There. Is. 

To avoid like the rest of you were, Hyuck feigned a smile, pulling you towards his arms the moment you stepped foot into the kitchen. You reciprocated the action, going further enough to kiss him. It was good enough to feel like the kiss you’ve given to his friend's cheek was nothing— that’s all he needed. 

“What do you say we continue what we started in the room, huh?” He raised his eyebrow cheekily, a giggle leaving your lips to decline the offer. Whining as to why, your husband pouted at how you only continued to giggle, your arms wrapped tightly around his slim waist. 

“Y/n-ie, come one~ why not?” he cried, kissing your lips softly before your neck. His plump lips encased your throat, his tongue lapping at the warm flesh that was making you reconsider your answer but the memory of him was making you stand your ground. 

Kissing him one last time and holding his face in between your hands to make him focus on your words; “Mark is still awake, Hyuck. We can’t fuck with him fully aware, walls arent very thick.” You reasoned, kissing him once again. 

You failed to notice his pout turn displeased, his expression overall seeming stoic now, aggravated. The film of love over your eyes blinding you from his change in demeanor; making your way towards the couch and inviting him to it just to keep up the facade of a normal marriage. 

“Come on now or I’ll pick the movie.” You threatened, picking up the remote to the TV. Hyuck shot you a tender smile, one faltering as quickly as it appeared. “Go get comfortable first, I’ll prepare here.” His voice dropping, some defeat laced on it.

You smiled at him lovingly, oblivious to the way he stared at you and the rays of hurt exuding off of him. Closing the door behind you to get ready, Hyuck leaned forward, his head falling to his hands as he clutched it hoping all those thoughts would leave his head. 

Mark is his best friend and you’re his wife. You and Mark are just friends— that’s all it is. But even if he tried to fool himself, this marriage was too fragile for him to not fully worry as he always has. History can repeat itself one way or another.

One ought to think that after that night in which you and Haechan had put aside any hatred for each other, that it would remain and the fighting would subside but that night only made things worse.

Whether it was the lingering sexual tension neither of you were to relieve that night and the ones to follow or simply how you two couldn’t put away the resentment that has grown but things were bleak nonethless. 

Some part of Hyuck blamed you, he didn’t know when he began feeling hate towards you instead of pity and self hatred. And the other part blamed Mark. In countless arguments you always threaten him by mentioning the possibility of storming out of the room and spending the night with his best friend as he’s the only one who doesn’t irritate you. 

As any partner would do, Hyuck grunted in frustration, picking up his pillow and slamming the door behind him as he took his spot next to Mark in the guest bed. Both men awkwardly and uncomfortable on the bed trying to avoid bringing you into the conversation. 

For one because your name and presence made Hyuck enraged and for Mark he could only feel guilt bubble inside him while thoughts of you clouded his mind. 

Mark and you had always gotten along. You both shared a love for the arts and that only made you both closer these months. When it didn’t pertain to art, you two always teamed up to bother Haechan as a taste of his own medicine for ever bothering either of you. 

Times used to be good, dinners and parties were fun but the more he indulged in his work and tried to climb whatever hierarchy ladder there was, he became such a— such a dick. The actions he took upon when you were on a work trip didn’t help either.

You should’ve taken in all the signs from whenever you met the wives of his coworkers. Their sunken faces and dead eyes staring at you with pity when he first brought you around. 

Their ‘awe’s’ and ‘oh’s’ when you shared how lovely Hyuck was to you and how you two met. His persistent love for you that’s led you to where you two were at the time. Their pity should’ve been obvious, at first it was jealousy but no one knew the truth of having men in this field like they do. 

So now they look at you like you were finally one of them. Your miserable and tired gaze with every single one of these dinners. How annoyed you became every time Donghyuck opened his mouth to let out a joke or just speak. You had to catch yourself from rolling your eyes most of the time for his sake but it was becoming so exhausting when he didn’t try to do anything for your sake.

“So how’s the job hunt, y/n?” A nasally pesky sound buzzed towards your ears, bringing you out of your thoughts about tomorrow's plans. Lifting your gaze with confusion, you still turned to her. 

Rapidly glancing at the people around the table ready to collect their coats, you held in your sigh as their attention was now fixated on you. “I’m not looking for a job.” You answered sharply, Donghyuck helping you into your coat, buttoning it up for you to keep up the perfect husband facade he’s trying to maintain. 

She cocked her head, the hairspray held cylinder bangs bouncing but never moving with gravity. “Really? Hyuckie said you were looking for a job.” God how you hated her. ‘Hyuckie’? Yes you hated his guts as of lately but he’s still your man and jealousy is inevitable. 

You threw a glared at him, “Don't call me ‘Hyuckie’, Merdia.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose knowing what she’s trying to initiate. She chuckled trying to slap his arm playfully but he backed up before she could touch him at all, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“No… I’m helping a friend of ours. He’s an artist himself so we’ve been contacting old clients of mine to get references or any openings.” The group began to walk as you talked, the clicking of all your heels collecting on the marble tile. She follows along, trying to get as close to you. 

“An artist, how lovely.” One of the women added, smiling towards you. “Yes, he’s quite good. We’ve been working on some pieces for a while, while we wait for some responses.” You smiled fondly at her, your smile as wide as when you used to talk about Hyuck. 

“He’s amazing actually…” your smile refused to diffuse. The woman chuckled, nodding as a response while Hyuck side eyed you, stoic his face became. “Mark is a good artist.” It came out too bitter from his mouth; emphasizing the ‘is’. 

Reaching the front of the restaurant with the cars from the valet already at front the couples were getting ready to bid their goodbyes. “You speak so highly of him, if he’s available for commissions please let me know. All the pieces you’ve brought for our home fit so well I’d be so interested to see his work.” Another woman spoke, holding onto to her husband who smiled at her lovingly. 

This was the brightest you smiled all night, nothing fake and short of past conversations. Haechan loved your smile, he really did but to know it brought Mark into the conversation was making his heart ache. 

“You should really consider coming back as a consultant for the company, y/n. Keeping an eye on Donghyuck on your part is becoming tiresome.” His boss jokes, causing the party to chuckle. “Hope he hasn’t caused more trouble like he used to.” You commented, his lips falling against your cheek to reassure you he was no trouble at all. 

His boss shook his head as a response. “He’s become too boring these past years, loose him up or something.” You laughed knowing he was absolutely right, patting your husband’s hand. “Well… it was a great night, thank you all for accompanying us once again. Sunhee has something to do early tomorrow so I’ll see us out, have a great night.” 

Leading his wife in front of him carefully. In the process of going down the slight hill, one of her shoulder pendants dropped to the concrete. “Mrs. Oh you dropped your—'' Trying to help, you made your way towards it but before you could the obstacle or Merdia’s foot tripped you making you fall into the large fountain for cars to surround. 

You splashed around with the shock of the cold water biting your body as Hyuck rushed to your aid and some of the people in the party trying to see if you were okay. Even the staff noticing the happenings rushed to get whatever they could to free you from the breeze and dry you up. 

But either way you still shivered despite the panting host handing you two warm and folded towels that Haechan secured around you. “What is wrong with you for fuck’s sake.” Hyuck finally broke out, turning to the woman who pretended to be sorry, trying her best to grab you. Merdia was at a loss for words, stammering to say it was an accident but Hyuck retaliated with the exact happenings. 

“That was of such poor taste, Merdia!” One of the women exclaimed, her wrinkled skin prominent the while she frowned in disbelief. “I— I didn’t mean to…” she spoke lowley, glancing at those around her but mainly Hyuck and her boss. The poor man couldn’t make it home yet without making sure you were fine. 

“We all saw you stick out your foot, give it up.” The most cynical in the group spoke up, sipping from the drink she had ordered while the host brought you towels. Sometimes you feared you and Hyuck would turn out like her and her husband. Hating each other too much it was useless to try and hide it from the world. 

She couldn’t even speak, your shivers and Hyuck’s cooing too loud for her to even process the scolding she was getting. “You two go ahead. Y/n is freezing. I don't want her to get sick.” Mr. Oh directed the both of you with his hand, rushing you both to his car while Hyuck apologized but everyone else reassured him it was not his fault and he shouldn’t do so on her behalf. 

All you could hear was his boss telling her he’d want to have a talk with her tomorrow morning while his wife reassured her she was too immature for her grown age. As Hyuck drove away and made sure you were fully covered to not let the breeze cool you more, all you could think about was the hatred you had for the people in his job and those who’ve crossed his path inside that building. Even if Mr and Mrs. Oh were the sweetest people there can be, you’ve found to hate them to an extent. 

He patted you down with his own blazer, covering your bare legs with another one he had in the back without a care if the expensive piece would be ruined. “Are you okay?” He asks concerned, his hand rubbing your arm to warm up the area. Pulling out of the place he continued to blabber, questioning and acting like he cared. He probably did but you didn’t want to believe it. 

You never answered, shivering from both cold and anger. With every second of your silence and his aching chest, Hyuck grew frustrated, not knowing well how to process such emotions. They were bubbling up inside him and the worst of him was taking over, enough to not stop his mouth. 

“For fuck sake, y/n say something! I’ve been asking you the entire ride if you’re okay, speak up!” To say his scream didn’t catch you off guard was an understatement, usually during arguments no one screamed so this was still new to you. 

Even when you imagined your eyes to be wide they were cold to him. “There’s nothing to say.” Your hoarse voice broke out through gritted teeth. He scoffed, palms slamming the steering wheel. “Of course because all you have to say you’ll say to Mark.” That bitterness from earlier was back, his teeth grinded with the mention of his friend.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You turn to him, disgust masked on your face. “Every argument, every discussion, any free second— you’re always with him. You tell him everything, I’m your husband, not him! You’re supposed to have trust in me!” You can hear a sob stuck in his throat, trying his best to repress it but it kept fighting to come out. 

Maybe if it was another time and a past year you’d feel pity but it was only infuriating you. “How do you want me to trust you when those stupid letters are still engraved in my fucking head? All those little greeting kisses? Even the ones of Marida—“ 

“Don’t even bring her up, I would never be with her.” Disgust laced in his tongue. “Of course I know you wouldn't be with her. She’s old and ugly, I know you too well but that stupid seaweed girl is still—“ now it was your turn to hold in the sob. You rather not continue, you’ve tried to hide for too long that you were still hurting from the events that have led to this decaying marriage. 

“Y/n please…” his hand reached for you. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You spat, moving as far as the car door would let you. The action alone caused him to emit a frustrated growl. “That was a while ago! Stop bringing her up for fuck sake.”

The speed he was driving in was only accelerating almost as if he couldn’t really stop his emotions from taking over. “So what, Hyuck? It’s not going to change the fact that you still cheated.” This time you couldn’t stop yourself, your tears forcefully spilled, your silent cry increasing in sound the second your head bowed and hand reached your forehead. 

You hated this, you really hated that he was seeing you this vulnerable but it did really hurt you to see the man that went out of his way to have you throw it all out for an ounce of attention. 

It had started a year and a half ago, though brief, the wound is still very fresh in your heart. With just two years of marriage, Hyuck began to act more loving than usual. In any case that would’ve been fine but if you hadn’t temporarily gone back to work at the same company you’d never know it was due to a short haired redhead that would give him seaweed treats every time the company called her catering services. 

She was sweet and kind. Every time he came around she’d blush and wasn’t able to hide it. Though his flirtation was innocent at first (as it always is) he began to like the attention she gave him. She was detailed about everything, from the color of her catering plates to the tiny designs on every treat but his specifically.  

It went on for a while with just flirtation remarks and gifts, after a while they’d accidentally cross paths at the park where he’d walk the dog you shared and soon became their hang out spot where they’d talk and talk for hours until the sun would set and he’d have to walk her home. Sometimes he’d simply spend the night… 

She’d tell him good night with a shy hug and a kiss to the cheek progressively getting closer to the corner of his mouth. Soon came the letters, the ones of her professing her love for him and how passionately she felt about him asking him to not speak of his own feelings just yet as she wasn’t ready for a response.  

And when she had finally gotten emotionally prepared for a response, a divine intervention came. On the day you had come back from a trip for a piece to place at the front of the company— the catering team had been called.  

With the table set and the treats and meals prepared, the employees came along. Anxiously waiting for his entrance with a plate of the same seaweed treats she’s been making him all these months, her face brightened up when he came into the picture.  

You still recall the scene before you: Have forgotten your coat, Hyuck had offered to give you one of his he had kept in his office granting him to let you walk to the lounge area with the rest of the employees.  

At the moment you had been standing with a few of his female coworkers catching you up on all the gossip you missed while out of town and working at a different company, laughing along to whatever they were saying when he had just walked in with his coat in hand searching for you but being stopped by that same red head. 

You wouldn’t have thought anything of it was it not for how she excitedly pulled him in, her lips gracefully falling to the corner of his mouth given he turned his head so it wouldn’t have. She seemed to dismiss that as she handed him the treats and he thanked her.  

She was rambling for a while making him grow a bit exasperated but she placed down any other plate and removed her gloves begging him to follow her outside the lounge. Looking around in hopes no one else caught what you had, you excused yourself to look for him in hopes the other two women around you didn’t follow.  

You had ended outside the door, hidden behind the protruding wall to listen into their conversation but it was a grave mistake.  

“I-I wrote you another letter.” She handed it to him, a shy smile along. “Don’t read it right now, I just want to make this quick because it’s eating me alive, but—“ she sighs nervously, hands beginning to shake and sweat.  

Exhaling through her lips, “I’m at a point where it hurts so much being around you daily. I really like you, Donghyuck. I’ve made it clear in all these letters and with this one more. I dream of kissing you more than I already do, I want all of you and I finally want to know if you want me too.” Her voice was as shaky as her hands.  

Hyuck was at a loss for words, he knew what he wanted to say but he knew he couldn’t, not when he loved you more than her. He could’ve said something but his initial thought was to take her into an embrace giving her false hope when she reciprocated it, smiling and sighing to herself the tighter she pulled him in. Her hands caressing his back like you always do.  

The sight and confession was eating you alive, the lump in your throat was too heavy and hard, it was choking you. This was all killing you but you’ll be damned if you were to let anyone get him after your vows have been made.  

Fighting with that lump you finally swallowed it, turning on your heel and walking towards them with determination and anger in your body.  

“Hyuckie! What’s taking you so long?” Your voice as fierce as always, it’s a quality they all liked about you. “I— um well.” If he was to be truthful, he was shitting bricks in this instance.  

“I’m cold, come— feel.” Your lips puckered up pecking him and your hands reached his cheeks making him laugh into the kiss. All the catering girl could do was look at the both of you dumbfoundedly, eyes large as her heart broke into million pieces. 

“Yeah, I see— honey this is… well. She caters for the company.” Oh he was so full of shit. Turning to the girl in front of you two as he wraps his arms around your waist, your back to his chest. “This is my wife, Y/n. She’s an art consultant here.”  

Poor girl, she just nodded as a response, meekly speaking her ‘nice to meet you’s’ before excusing herself before her throat fully closed up and the waterworks began.  

When she was earshot away, you turned to him. The fire in your eyes turned soft and sad as your fists found themselves against his chest. “I leave you alone for three months and you do this to me?” The air was scarce around you, he didn’t make it better the more he tried to pull you in and his apologies spewed from his lips. 

When he had finally taken a tight hold of you, you did your best to relax. Labored breaths against his chest, his apologies never ending followed by kisses that you tried to avoid.  

“When we get home you’re giving me every single one of those fucking letters and trust if I see her again here or wherever the fuck you two are seeing each other, I will make sure you’ll be the one to wish you had never tried this stupid game.” 

Hyuck knew of your status in the company and in his own field alone. Even if you didn’t have that leverage, a scandal like this was enough to ruin his career. As an increasingly important member he couldn’t afford an affair scandal, it wasn’t going well for any of his other coworkers.  

So when he swore to never let it happen you rushed him to the lounge, taking the coat, putting it on, and walking to the washroom hoping the red head would be there. Lord knows you’d rather cry in one than let anyone in the building see you a sobbing mess.  

But you’re always right, so upon opening the doors to the black marbled washroom, leaning against the matching sink— she tries to stop letting her tears spill. When the door harshly slammed, she turned around scared , only to continue her pained cries when she saw your face.  

“I didn’t know he was married if that’s what you wanted to ask.” She hiccuped, trying her best to stop. “I know.” You answer, standing next to her in front of the other sink.  

With your finger you clean up the smeared lipstick from the kiss, a reminder to her of what you can freely do whenever you want and all she could respond with was another sob. “Did he sweet talk you until you finally agreed to go out with him or something?”  

She shook her head, wiping away some loose tears. “I was the one to start it all, he was just flirty so I thought he liked me back.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with a paper towel. “That’s just how he is. He playfully flirts with everyone.” That didn’t seem to make her feel any better, it was making her feel worse.  

Angered at the turn of events, she looked at you with desperation. She could see why he wouldn’t leave you for her. You were beautiful, the way you carried yourself was so enticing and pleasant.  

You were charismatic, confident, and it seemed like everyone loved you by the way people greeted you upon entering the lounge before him. Of course he wasn’t going to leave you, you were a diamond in the rough.  

“Why are you here?” She questioned desperately, feeling more tears coming this time. With your lipstick at hand, you threw her a glance ignoring her as you retouched the color. When you had finished you turned to her, gnawing at the inside of your cheek.  

“I don’t blame you, you didn’t know he was married and the bastard was just having his little fun while I was away at your expense. But now you do know he’s married so I better not see you near him again.” The clicking of yours heels bold as your words upon reaching the golden handle. 

Turning to her waiting for a response. “You’re not sorry about it, right?” You smiled at her, genuine curiosity upon the question. “Why should I be? You said it yourself. He was having his fun at my expense… Maybe just for you.” She sniffled again, clutching the paper towel to her chest.  

“Smart girl.” With a final nod, you made your way out, dropping the facade and rushing to the elevator down to the basement and to your car. Just like she had, you allowed your tears to flow while leaning on the steering wheel, your hands slamming full force against the dashboard the louder your sobs became.  

Everything from that point on went downhill. The dog perhaps had felt the atmosphere and months later had died leaving you alone to fend off your repressed emotions on your own. A month after that Hyuck had made you leave the company you worked at, given your state, along telling you he needed more time with you and perhaps nothing would’ve happened if you didn’t travel out the country for months on end. It all led to where you were at now. 

If it wasn’t for Mark being around, you’d still be moping about the situation. How can someone that’s done everything in his power to be with you and love you more than he loves himself do that to you? 

How can he, after four years together, allow something like this to happen when you’re not home and then blame you for the happenings? If you hadn’t interrupted them, he would’ve confessed he also felt something for her. Not as strong as he feels for you but he would still feel an attachment. 

“Just, please…” He pleaded, fear in his voice. “I keep telling myself not to write to you all the time, but the mere thought of you is so strong, but I can’t help writing thousands of letters to you everyday and every second. I hope you like the seaweed treats, and make them all for you.’ I hope you like the seaweed treats. I make them all for you.' You fucking hate, seaweed Hyuck.” 

He was more amazed that you memorized all that but knowing how you were you had probably fixated on that part of each letter that entire week he gave them to you. “I read over your letters day and night. Can’t stop thinking about you and I know I’ve told you multiple times not to tell me how you feel, a part of me can tell how you feel from all your letters and the way you touch me.”

“Y/n, stop!” Hyuck yelled at you. He didn’t really understand if he was more angry that you still brought it up or that you kept reciting stuff you were keeping away from him. “I wish the cheek kisses were more than just that, sometimes I really wish I could kiss you but for now I’ll settle for this.’ That’s before you your last few letters by the way.“ 

He was driving recklessly at this point, the car, either speeding or swerving, but neither of you could care much. Before you knew what he had pulled up to the basement of your apartment complex, parking in the assigned spot.

Neither of you got out of the car. He just sat there in silence basking in the uncomfortable atmosphere that both of you created. 

“You know I still think about that cheek kiss, and how many more there have been.

“Probably just as many as the ones you’ve been giving Mark.”

It was your time to scoff offendedly, looking at him with disgust and anger in your eyes. “Aw fuck you! Mark and I have always been platonic! And yes I do tell him everything, he listens to me, he remembers the small things, he actually tries to be of comfort unlike you.” 

Your fists found your thighs, the textile of his coat sliding off to the floor of the car. “By the way, really? Sending him to buy the gift?” Pulling at the locket, you show it to him. “You’re sad you’re not the man I met…” You slumped back against the car seat, unbuckling yourself ready to get out. 

“Well neither are you! You’re not that lively girl anymore—“

“Because you ruined me! You make everyone around you miserable! Mark and I have a great time until you come home and bring us down with you! You suck like the life out of people, Hyuck. Even the dog died because of what you started!”

That was enough for the both of you. Glaring each other down in silence as the animosity settled around you, suffocating you both to the point you just shook your heads and threw the towels and remaining coats to the back of the car while stepping out, slamming the car door and leaving him be, hearing his screams as he slammed his fists on the wheel and dashboard while you walked away. 

Just like the day that started all this, you rushed to the elevator allowing your sobs to become louder. With every rising number, your pleas to stop the tears followed suit in case Mark was still awake. 

You didn’t want him to see you like this. It already pains you enough that Haechan was able to see you crumble because of him, you didn’t want Mark to see how vulnerable you could be again. 

But what you didn’t know is that Mark has already seen your vulnerability besides your anniversary night. With every passing month he’s stayed with you, you granted him an open window of what else you could offer and he liked that more and more as the days passed. 

Entering the threshold of the apartment and leaving the door unlocked for when Donhyuck decided to come in, your feet waltzed towards Mark’s room. The faintest of music could be heard, you couldn’t hear him but you could hear the song. 

‘Someday you will ache like I ache…’  

Sang in a loop, spinning inside your head the closer you got to the door. Hyuck was right, you did want to open the door and tell Mark tonight’s happenings. You wanted him to take you into an embrace and comfort you but you didn’t want Hyuck to be right and your initial thoughts on your vulnerability weren’t allowing it either. 

There was nothing else to do but head towards your bedroom, throwing Hyuck’s pillow to the living room before finally locking the door behind you. The song kept repeating itself as you prepared yourself for bed, the volume in your head increasing with every movement you made up until your head hit your cold lonesome pillow. 

The stupid song was only making you want Mark to be right beside you, to at least see him before you slept so you could end the night in a good note and not the bitterness your husband made you endure. 

So now that your face wasn’t as puffy from the crying and only the tingling remained, you jumped from the bed rushing to his room glad Hyuck was taking his time in the garage. 

The pitter-patter of your feet against the tile was loud for you, the creaking of his door making you wince as it screeched at you, and the song was even more loud to you than it already was. 

Illuminated by a desk lamp and the city lights while his curtains remained slightly ajar, you approached his resting body. He looked so peaceful in this position, holding tightly to one of the pillows. It’s decor fur rustling with the whistles of his silent snores. Aside from peaceful, he looked beautiful. 

The image of him was making your chest twist and turn; crouching down to eye level when your hand subconsciously fell to his face. Caressing the growing stubble he tried so hard to remove but you loved so much.

He wasn’t much of a deep sleeper, the touch alone waking him up much to your fright. Ready to remove your hand from his face, his hand held it in place as the other rubbed at his eyes. With you in front of him and the placement of your hands, Mark quizzically looked at you, still squinting away his slumber. 

“What’s up?” Was all he could muster, trying his best to smile but found it too tedious. You shook your head, returning the smile. “Did the music bother you? Let me just turn it of—“ 

“The music is fine.” You stopped him from bolting up. The last thing you wanted was for him to lose his comfort. This time around he was finally waking up, well slightly given he nodded with one eye closed and the other open, still trying hard to smile. 

“Scoot over.” Patting the pillow, he follows your orders tossing it to the other side and freeing a spot for you. When able to, you climbed on the bed beside him, facing him and taking his arm to wrap around your waist as if you were that pillow. 

Mark felt shaky at the situation, his hands becoming clammy and trying his best for you to not figure out how nervous you were making him. “So… It’s your turn to sleep here tonight?” He joked, his smile finally showing. 

You scrunch your nose, shaking your head, causing him to chuckle. “He’d rather see me sleeping on the road than being in bed with another man.” Noticing his rising fright, your finger pressed against your lip, signaling that it’ll be your little secret to which he nodded trying his best to have that smile return. 

“I’m guessing it wasn’t a good night again?” His eyes fixated on the way your face muscles contorted. “It is now!” You laugh, taking a hold of his hand squeezing it between your hands. Mark reciprocated the laugh, his body unconsciously getting closer to yours. 

“Wanna talk about it?” You shook your head. “I do want to talk about my favorite person right now, though.” You turn to him, cupping his cheek in your now free hand. He smiled shyly, eyes shutting tight the more overwhelmed he became. 

“Is tomorrow’s interview still on?” As told to the wives of Hyuck’s coworkers, you had been helping Mark during his job hunt. Contacting old bosses of yours and art lovers in hopes they’d take him in and help him gain that passion for the arts on a commercial level. 

Though things were radio silent these months, finally someone had called him back and asked if he could go in for an interview in hopes of hiring him for some installations for a new chain of restaurants the man was soon to open and maybe a position at one of his studios. 

With the mention of the interview, his already wide eyes grew and a coat glossed over the moment he began to excitedly ramble about his ideas and just genuine happiness of finally going back into a studio. 

He was adorable to say the least; the unintentional stammering, his slipping laughs from joy, and his unconscious emotional movements the more he got excited over this opportunity. To say the least perhaps Mark and you weren’t too far with how you felt and you weren’t much better than Hyuck. 

Nevertheless, if he was going to be selfish then you would too. 

“Then make sure to get a goodnight sleep so you can look refreshed and ready. Prayers, you'll get it!” You exclaimed excitedly, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. 

He didn’t hesitate this time, arms tightening around you. His hands begin to roam against your skin and his exhales landing on your hair, rustling them like ferns in a windy gloom beach. It felt too familiar yet foreign as the sensation was new but the visual wasn’t. 

“Night.” He whispered against your ear, his long fingers tracing patterns against your flesh to the point goosebumps formed. Mark smiled at the reaction, his lips pressing against the corner of your mouth, fighting to not inch closer to the swollen lips.  

“Night…” you whispered back when he let you go, staring at each other whilst you struggled to get out of his bed, the smell and warmth of you intoxicating him tonight. 

“By the way, Hyuck is still in the car. Do you mind getting him if he doesn’t come back by the time you go to sleep?” There the moment went at the mention of his best friend, your husband. His smile dropped but he nodded. 

Finally being able to close the door behind you, your feet rushed to lock the apartment door then your shared bedroom with Haechan who even now had not returned not thinking about how the mention of him had drastically changed Mark’s demeanor.

Situated in your cold bed once again, the city lights being the only source of illumination and the mixture of Mark’s song with the water pipes lulled you into the night. The thoughts of how history was only repeating itself with the exception that it was your turn to get a lick of Happiness. 

Mark did make you happy and his actions tonight only worked as reassurance that he saw you the same way you were seeing him now. As fucked as this entire situation is, it’s only fair that Hyuck aches like you have been these years.

Morning came and all that was left of Hyuck was his pillow right next to your head, his smell lingering in the sheets when you woke and his spot still warm. Maybe he hadn’t spent the night in Mark’s room or he had paid you a visit while you slept but you still couldn’t let your anger subside.

As in for Mark, you both ignored any lingering attraction, his chirpy self hyping the possibilities of getting the job. That’s what you liked about Mark, even when in a rut he was trying his best to act positive. 

With the goal of getting through that interview, you sat in the waiting room, idly flipping through the magazines as he talked with your old friend. Prayers in your tongue, sliding around and hoping he’d get it. 

So when he walked out through the white doors, smiling and laughing along to the jokes of the man beside him, things only looked as bright as him. His tie was a mess, flimsy and slightly undone. The button of his shirt undone and showing enough clavicle, smudges of graphite mixing in with sweat. His dress pants were worse off, splatter of oil paint in the bottom and drying stoneware seeping in. 

Disturbance in your face overpowered the smile you tried to give him, insanely frustrated for how much trouble it would be to remove all those stains. But it later dawned on you that he did his own laundry and often told you to not do these things for him. 

On one end it was nice that he assured you he didn’t depend on you but on the other you wanted him to— you were getting too used to the life Hyuck and you have been living… god, you seem to have forgotten all the times you’ve fought with him to do laundry as well, now you just do it for both of you. 

“Don’t look so gloom, darling. I didn’t beat him.” The older man told you, your muscles relaxing at his soft voice. “You did add trouble to the laundry load, Yasuki.” Your fingers ran across the stained spots, not quite noticing how Mark flexed his muscles from your touch, nervously laughing at the happenings. 

If you could see how you were looking at him you’d probably slap yourself. Your eyes glistened at the sight of him, his brown locks tamed back but that strand of hair still managed to fall over and play with his vision. It didn’t help that he was sweaty and his shirt was showing you a bit more skin than expected. 

“So how did he do?” You question straightening Mark’s sleeves. “That’s for him to tell you,” he winked at you, noticing he had a brush in hand to which he tapped against his leg. “I’d like to catch up but I have a meeting in five, so please excuse me.” His mustache ruffled a bit with every movement of his lip. 

You found it endearing how charismatic the old man was. He was so jolly that as he parted ways from you both, he skipped towards his office, that same brush tapping on his knees twice with each step. In a better life you’d want to be that happy. 

“So?” You question Mark, hand reaching to wipe his forehead and rid of his sweat. “So?” He mimicked, a bright smile that could only make you mirror it with every step you two took towards the elevator. 

The ding was heard and the doors ungraciously opened, both stepping in. “Come on~” you whined at his lack of response, Mark laughing quietly at how desperate you sounded. 

“Well how would you think I did?” He asks, stepping out the elevator once the doors opened, following after you. You shrugged on the way to the car, letting him speed his step to open the door for you. 

“You have to give me more than that if you expect an answer.” He cheekily smiles down on you, closing the passenger’s door and walking over to the driver's side. “Judging from how you came back, I’d say he had you working quite hard so he probably liked your style!” Excitement laced your voice, turning to him after buckling up. 

“Ding ding ding!” You look at him with joy. “So you got the job?!” Your voice was now squeaky, eyes almost bulging out. “Yes and no… he gave me some options first.” Cocking an eyebrow and leaning your head to the side, you looked at him with huge curiosity. 

“What do you mean?” He turns to you, tongue nervously swiping across his bottom lip, eyes averting to avoid yours. “One… if I want to continue with my own mediums, I’d have to relocate to his studio in a different city. It’s not as far, maybe two hours or so but far for a daily trip it is.”

You felt your world crumble and he had only given you the first option, you felt it stab your chest repeatedly. “Or two— his studio an hour away but it’s strictly digital art and design. It’s much closer and maybe if I take the express lines at the highway it’ll be faster but— I have no clue how digital art works so I’d be quite behind than the rest of the team.”

Mark was more concerned with his options that he failed to see the bigger image. With whatever option he took, he’d have to leave you regardless and that’s what was killing you right now. Your excitement was gone and right now you regretted recommending him. 

“What? What’s wrong?” He finally stopped his blabbering, noticing the look on your face was the same one you gave Hyuck when he hurt you. If there was something Mark didn’t want was to be compared to his best friend. 

“You’ll be moving out won't you?”

“Well yeah…”

You shift on your spot, head hanging low. 

“Please don’t. I promise we don’t mind you staying, actually it’s been the best thing to happen to me.” He dismissed the fact that you were talking about yourself, not wanting to make illusions out of it. 

“Y/n,” he softly chuckles, his hand cupping your cheek and making you turn to him. “I can’t commute daily for one-to-two hours, honey.” 

Oh… that wasn’t good. 

The sweet adoring look in his eyes wasn’t helping either. “Come on, I did tell you I’d stay for only a little bit didn’t I?” He tenderly smiled, thumb playing with the corner of your lips, all you could do was pout at him. 

“I didn’t expect it to be too short, I like you around. It’d be better if you just stayed with us.” He found your protruding lower lip adorable, unconsciously rubbing his thumb across it. “Thanks, but you guys are married, I can’t just third wheel all the time. Maybe if you two were just dating it’d be different but you're not and sooner or later you’ll form a family, I’d just stick out like a sore thumb.”

A family with Donghyuck? God, you put that thought in the back burner for too long after the incident that the words were making you ill now. Even when you two were dating, the idea of a family wasn’t something pleasant.

Mark took your silence as you still being sad about him possibly leaving, patting your arm and stretching his arms to take you in an embrace. “Don’t be so pouty, it won’t do us any good.” He spoke against your ear once his arms wrapped around your shoulders. 

He felt warm, his musk even more prominent than last night. Your own arms tightened around his waist, pulling him closer even when the shift stick was in between. 

“Just really wish you wouldn’t leave us…” you pulled away slightly, enough to make him turn to look at you. “Wouldn’t leave me.” In a whisper, the words hit his lips. 

Mark’s lips parted, shaky breaths leaving as he noticed how close you were. When the lingering stares didn’t subside until you leaned in to what he assumed was a kiss to his cheek; it took him by surprise when your lips fell upon his. 

His eyes widened in shock but the flavor of your cherry stain was too sweet and the taste of you was intoxicating. He’d be a liar if he said wanted to pull away but just with all temptation, Mark fell into it. 

His arms tightened around you, his eyes shutting and finally reciprocating the kiss you initiated. He loved the small whines that spilled from your lips. He swallowed them all with every passing that he’d part his, deepening the kiss and both your hands began to roam. 

You felt it in your core, that excruciating desire when his nimble fingers danced around the hem of your shirt, finding an opening so he could stick his hand under it. Your flesh was cold against his, aching at how his fingers cooled with just a touch. 

Your hands had unraveled from his waist, now playing with the buckle of his belt. Popping it open, and continuing the quest with his pants. He’d harden with every touch of yours, your palm rubbing his cock over the strained textile that only made him ache more.  

His warm fingers felt like fire against your freezing flesh, they danced across your back, caressing it until they met with the strap of your bra. Playing with the clasp until he was able to unbuckle it and his hands rushed to your breasts, kneading the mounds that seemed to be made for his hands. A perfect fit. 

Your moans loudly cascaded into his mouth, his tongue enveloping yours with every passing kiss. When your hands managed to pull at the hem of his briefs and finally grasp his hardened shaft; his own moans became present.

Eyes shut tightly, he bit your lower lip pleasurably painful. Your hands had warmed up in the process of touching him, that warmth making him feel like pity under your grasp with every pump you gave his cock. 

“I want to taste you.” Your voice broke him out of his daze, your lips finding solace in his neck, licking and nipping at the flesh. Mark moans vibrating through his throat, making you ravish his neck even more, your hand moving at a rhythm that was causing him to shake under you. 

Upon opening his eyes, it had dawned on him that you two were still in the parking lot of the studio. A wave of freight flooded him and a gasp left his lips along a worried ‘fuck’. 

“Wait, stop, stop!” His abruptness confused you and almost scared you. If he was regretting this already you didn’t know how to take it. “We can’t do it here, I think I saw a lake not far from here.” But he put your mind at ease making your concerned frown turn into a smile, leaning in to kiss him as he tucked himself back in.

Looking around to make sure no one had seen anything, Mark rushed out of the parking lot. Your labored breaths faintly mixing with the radio conductor mentioning to make plans for the new millennium and enjoy the last months of this year. 

Some were frightened and others were scared. As for you, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that Mark arrived to you months before the 2000s. Maybe that’s the new beginning everyone is talking about. 

Minutes later, you’d arrive at the lake he was talking about. Maybe it was because he was speeding from his excessive desire but he found a spot in which you’d both be hidden from the public. Rushing out and towards you; Mark made sure to cramp both of you inside the backseat. 

From how rushedly you both went in, some bumps along the way weren’t missed, making you both whine but forget about it when looking at each other. Hyuck wasn’t present in Mark’s mind but he was in yours. 

You were really doing this and remorse was difficult to find. 

“God, I’m so glad I can have you like this.” His lips spewed after each of his kisses on you. They were warm with every passing peck, attaching themselves to yours. Your hips began rutting against his groin, the thin piece of skirt doing nothing to hold off. 

Instantly Mark could feel the wet patch, groaning at how warm it was. Fuck, he wanted you badly. 

Upon pulling away from the kiss you two were too enthralled in, Mark looked at you through hooded dark eyes. He looked at you as if you were prey, the one who’d succumb to him and the way his grip on your waist tightened told you so.

Patting your ass while bunching up your skirt, “Lay on your back, I wanna eat you out.” His voice had dropped an octave, the huskiness making you shiver as you unbutton your blouse, the bra falling gracefully once free from the confinement of the buttons.

Curses spilled from his lips looking at you on his journey to kneel on the floor of the car, trying his best to push up the front seats to give him enough space. His once dark eyes glistened at the view of you, all that was left was the tiny fabric of your panties and the bunch around your waist. 

He caressed your thighs, leaning in to leave tiny wet kisses against the flesh that caused your eyelids to flutter from how close he was to your cunt. You could feel his breath fanning over the area, your legs twitching as he inched closer and closer.

When his lips hovered over your clothed cunt, Mark looked at you through his lashes, smirking at the state he had left you, blowing on your aching mound. “Stop fucking around.” You whined, hands clutching onto your breast, fingers twirling around your perked buds.

Mark chuckled, nodding in response before his fingers pushed aside the fabric of your panties. Moans erupting from his throat with every strand of your arousal stuck to your panties. He didn’t take much to please you, his own want taking over his being. 

Mark felt too happy about having you that he didn’t think about anything, not even the fact that he was betraying his best friend. Essentially his brother. 

His tongue came in contact with your slit, swiping upwards to meet your clit and continue the process of enticing kitty licks. You’ve been starved for so long that just the simple caress of his warm muscle was making you wither underneath him.

Your fingers danced across your skin, leaving warm trails on the frozen canvas. You couldn’t stop looking at him, progressively divulging further the more he fell obsessed with the taste of you. Mark ravaged the cavern between your legs, his lips glossed over by your juices that dripped down his chin.

He looked beautiful.His eyes screwed shut as he savored you, tongue laying flat when it wasn’t on your clit, his fingers grappling your thighs tightly enough to not let you go, and his lips refusing to let their suction go from you clit.

Your moans cascaded out your lips like a siren’s song, reeling him deeper and deeper into your trap. He didn’t mind, if he was to die at your hands then so be it, at least he’ll die blissfully. 

Enveloping his rosy lips on your clit, he latched onto it for dear life. Suctioning with force, much to your pleasure, Mark basked in the whimpers you let out. Withering under his touch and crying when he only kept granting you more pleasure. 

It didn’t help he teased your entrance with his fingers, making you cry over how much you wanted to feel full. In that instance, he parted from you, allowing you to spew your angry whimpers. 

“Look at me.” He patted your thigh forcefully enough to leave a sting behind. “Come on.” He demanded, repositioning himself closer to you, a perfect fit between his face and your cunt.

When you were finally able to open your eyes, you breathed out at the experience he was granting. “Don’t look away or close your eyes. I’ll stop if you do.” He menacingly spoke, smirking at how you responded with a frown and a nod. 

“Good girl. ” Fuck.

Breaking eye contact with you; Mark puckered his lips, accumulating spit that as of now he was letting slide down his tongue and onto your cunt. That same muscle poking out to spread it across your labia and clit. 

A hand came up to your mouth, trying your best to muffle the cry he caused. It didn’t help he found your frustrations amusing and his chuckles made a vibration that sent you overboard even more. 

You’d both could end up dying at each other’s hands.

His tongue lapped at your clit, collecting his spit and your arousal around the mound each time he was to suck on it. Mark knew you liked it, your body always reacted by shaking and your fingers threading onto his hair. 

He liked the sting from when you pulled on his locks. He liked when you shoved his face closer to the point you began to ride his face while his tongue penetrated you, licking upon every inch of your walls. It didn’t help that he tried his best to not break eye contact. With every moment and action, you’d both look at each other like your life depended on it. 

“Mark please… please let me finish, fuck—“ it came out strangled. His fingers clung to your skin, rubbing your clit each time his lips left it to allow his tongue to fuck you. 

He hummed against your cunt, warm breath fanning over it before kissing it passionately again. Mark didn’t respond but he did give you a show. With the way he sensually stuck out his tongue to caress your slit upon allowing his lips to land on your mound, you couldn’t help but feel that excruciating pit in your stomach flow to core, tingling painfully. 

He teased you each time. When he laid his tongue flat, he’d throw you a glance before shutting his eyes and swallowing your essence, fully intoxicated by it. 

“Mark!” You whined, a chilling tantrum to ensue. “Alright, alright, you big baby.” He laughed, swiveling his tongue flat against you. You felt your eyes roll and when he thought you were disobeying his one request, he nipped your thigh, causing you to squeal at the shock. 

“What did I tell you?” He cocked his eyebrow, teeth clenching around your sensitive flesh. “I’m looking, I’m looking.” You reassured, a look of despair on your face. A silent snort left him before resuming his activities. 

All that was heard was the mixture of labored breaths, cries, his deep moans, and the squelching between your cunt and his mouth. You couldn’t hold back much longer, it was becoming overstimulating and Mark didn’t hold back off much with how he worked his tongue. 

He seemed to sense your frustrations. His fingers picked up the pace on your bud, pressing down for more friction while his tongue entered you. Pistoning in and out, collecting every drop and making sure it didn’t spill to the car seat. 

You couldn’t hold much longer, your thighs clenched around his face, causing him to look directly at you while your body gave out on you.  He pressed down on your lower abdomen with his free hand. In a matter of seconds, you twisted under him. A coil unraveling where he held you and a loud moan leaving as a cry, your essence gushing out, covering his facial lower half.

He made sure to not let a single drop go, his tongue overstimulating you to no end but nevertheless stopped his assault. Your eyes were fixated on his, desperate want making you pull him by the neck, ravishing his lips with yours. 

The sweet nectar of you clinging to his tongue, the same tongue that waltzed around with yours. In the process of holding onto him for dear life, Mark kicked off his pants, shimming out of them and his briefs. Bare beneath, he pulled you over his aching cock, the tip gracing your lower half enough to make you squirm desperately.

“Fill me whole…” You whispered against his lips, biting them from time to time to signal how much you needed him. “Shit, looking at you is going to make me cum already.” You laughed along with him, connecting your lips again while your hips rutted against his cock. 

The silk of your walls rubbing against him, groaning in despair with every single of your movement, and he couldn’t even hold you or he’d make you go faster. He needed to be inside of you badly or he’d probably end up splattering all over his stomach.

“Yeah?” You questioned, face leaning against your shoulder, gripping his shirt so tightly it could leave wrinkles on it. “I want to paint your walls and feel it all ooze down them while I fuck it into you.” Mark’s words made you feel lightheaded, speeding up your pace and your fingernails to cling onto his shoulder blades.

He winced at the sting, removing your hands before pulling off his shirt, sweat drenching his bare chest. His proportions were insane; his slim physique enticing you to wrap your arms around him, holding tightly to his small waist as his abs clenched with the feeling of you against him.

“Lift your ass up a bit.” He commanded, holding your lower back while pumping his shaft, letting his precum collect at the tip. You took this as an opportunity to kiss the exposed skin of his neck. Your tongue licking stripes along his clavicle while it made its way to his jaw, leaving kisses all along it. 

You could feel his disgruntled moans vibrating against your lips the more he jerked himself off, leaving you dry and needy with occasionally taunting of his tip rubbing against your cunt causing you to whine against his ear for him to laugh at your misery.

“Mark, stop teasing!” You cried against his chest, your hands clinging onto him. Your hips began rutting against him again, lowering them until he’d smack his large hand across your flesh— reacting with a jolt and a gasp of arousal, your cunt never failed to clench around air. 

“You’re so needy, princess. I guess I can’t keep you waiting.” His lower lip pushed out in faux apologies, a smirk creeping out when you rolled your eyes at him. He only laughed, kissing you while aligning his cock with your cunt, eagerly ready to dive in.

He didn’t tease you anymore. Taking a grasp by your waist, Mark aided you to sink onto his cock, the stretch of his girth making you mewl like a wounded cat. You didn’t imagine him to be this big even when you held him you didn’t think much of it but now that he was fully in you and gravity was only making him fill you to the hilt, you fully felt his volume. 

His hands caressed your face and hair, patting down the strands while you tried your best to become comfortable around him. You didn’t expect it to be this difficult, maybe it was because of your lack of sexual life with Hyuck that any intrusion was foreign but God were you starting to enjoy the pain mixed with pleasure his best friend was sprawling within you. 

“You good?” He wondered, eyes fighting to keep open and experience your every movement fearing the moment would be gone if he didn’t keep himself fixated on you. “Yeah— fuck me, please…” you begged, your hips beginning to move against his. His lips fell ajar, his curses spilling in a prayer, fingers denting your skin the tighter his grip became. 

He created scratch marks along the flesh; his hips met your rhythm and your silent pleads became audible when you felt the angry tip of his cock kiss upon your walls leaving its gratitude in the form of gratification.

As for him, he felt your walls tighten around him, ready to clear him of all his cum— claiming him as your own. It wasn’t helpful that you were also holding onto him not wanting to let him go, your lips enticing him with every caress you gave. 

“You drive me insane, y/n…” he began, the sound of skin slapping against skin fading any other besides your labored breaths. His breath danced across your cheek, ruffling the hair that stuck to the sweat you produced. “I never thought we’d end up in this predicament but it feels as if it was meant to be— you for me and—“ your lips encased his, not letting him finish his sentence.

Whatever it was that he was trying to clear out was long forgotten the second your hips picked up their speed and the rhythm of your swiveling pelvis made him groan into the kiss. “I can’t get enough of you and this is only the beginning.” He laughed in between pauses, you shushed him in the process. 

You didn’t want to hear him talk besides his obscenities and praises, that’s all. It wasn’t time to bring in the reality you two will face or that awaits you. All that was precious at the moment was his cock stuffed inside your cunt causing both of you unimaginable pleasure. 

His eyes left yours, looking in between both of you. Mark lowered his head, accumulating spit in his mouth before letting the string of saliva fall onto your cunt. He took some of the spit that fell between you both and took it upon your clit. 

Biting his lower lip, pushing his hair back a bit— Mark continued to thrust his hips, fingers starting to circle at your clit clockwise. His grunts became louder just like yours with the amount of friction between you both. When his pelvic bone rubbed in between your bodies as his fingers went hard at your clit, you couldn’t help but feel your legs shake. 

The image of his spit dribbling down the tip of his tongue onto where you two connected was engraved in your mind, head throwing back by mere memory. “Do it in my mouth.” You told him, hand cupping his cheek. “Spit in it?” He questioned, you nodded, sticking your tongue out much to his pleasure. 

Puckering his lips, Mark saw the string of saliva land perfectly on your red muscle. You held it out for him to see as he thrusted into you, the pool rippled and threatened to fall with each of these jolts. Closing your mouth to swallow his residue, you stuck your tongue out again to show him you had taken all of it, simulating what you could do if it was his cum. 

He groaned at the image before him, the glistening of your sweaty chest blinding him as he pulled you closer to him by your cheeks. His fingers dug dents into your flesh as he held them tightly.

“You’re so hot, fuck!” A guttural groan left him, this time his spit was angry by the way it splattered in your mouth. This time he didn’t let you swallow it, his lips softly collided against yours, hot and angry was the plump flesh that ravished yours, nipping in hopes to receive more of your wanton noises. 

His tongue felt soft against yours, like that of satin and velvet rubbed against each other with the warmest of liquid coating them both. Sloppy the kiss was becoming, enough to let air in and make it last longer. You loved the taste of him, whether it was the mint-iness of his toothpaste or the blueberry tea he drank before leaving the apartment— it was driving you crazy how obsessed you were becoming. 

Mark was so near, with how hard he was thrusting within you, walls warm and clenching around his bare cock— all he wished for was to cum, to cum on you, in you, or over you— it didn’t matter. He just wanted to cum and now he couldn’t really help himself. 

“I can’t hold it any longer.” He warned you, removing his fingers from your clit, hands now holding tightly onto your hips. “Mark…” you whimpered, eyes barely opened, sweat accumulating at your neck making it all so sticky but it seemed to be over quite soon. Your forehead pressed against his, hand holding onto his neck. 

“Huh?” He’d respond, moving his hips once again, his pace only increased when you didn’t continue talking. “God, keep going.” You finally answered him, a soft chuckle leaving his lips before his head dipped down and kissed you once again. His lips soon trailed down your neck, tongue lapping at the thin flesh between your collarbones holding back to not leave any marks. 

It was eating him alive. Not because of Hyuck but because he wanted a mark on you to know this wasn’t a dream that he was actually fucking you and that you had chose him. But all he could muster was licking your flesh, savoring you to at least have that memory. Even the marks his teeth made disappeared quickly, taunting him and his credibility. 

You pulled his hair to make him look at you again, a pained yelp leaving his open mouth. He looked so pretty it could make you cry. In that instance you took him in for another kiss, just like him this was the only memory you could have. 

The kiss worked to muffle your increasing moans while he thrusted within you. By how close your bodies were, his lower half began rubbing at your sensitive clit. He seemed to know how sensitive you were down below as he only kept going faster and harder, allowing your fingers to dig deeper into his shoulders.

You were so close, he knew it. Mark knew how close you were and it didn’t help him at all. Your lips parted from his as yours mewls became highly audible, lips slightly agape. Mark couldn’t help but wonder how your lips covered in cum would look like. Just the imagery of the warm cloudy substance on your swollen lips made him hold onto your waist to fuck further more into you. 

“I can feel you so deep inside me,” you laughed against his neck, lips gracing his delicate flesh. “You’re twitching so much, just let go, Markie...” Your words sent him into a frenzy. His eyes screwed shut, his fingers refusing to let go of you and it wasn’t of much help that his sensitive tip was rubbing up against your warm walls. Kissing his cock with every thrust and squeezing in frustration every time it threatened to leave them. 

Oh, fuck he couldn’t help himself. With one last thrust and on the verge of cumming; Mark pushed you further down his cock as much as he could despite how much he’s abused your cunt with this same action alone. You clenched around him from the friction, your pleasured cries from the impact locking inside his ears making his cock leak like an angry water hose in the horrid summer trying to release everyone from the heat. 

You felt the spurts shoot painfully within you, a new wave of pleasure that shocked you from how long you haven't felt cum coat your cavern. The instance he did, your own eyes bulged out, lips forming a perfect ‘O’ that graced against his.

Both shared moans, swallowing them while trying to breathe and in the process you felt that same flush of pleasure in your lower abdomen. You chased your orgasm, continuing your movement against his cock, overstimulating him to the point he felt an ache with each stroke but if it meant you were feeling good, then so be it.

It wasn’t much longer until you felt that ache as well, slowing down the movement of your hips, your grip loosening from him but his didn’t on you. Upon stopping your actions, Mark brought you face closer, his lips leaving sloppy kisses along your temple and side of the face, while his praises spilled like a lullaby.

“ You did so good …” He huffed out, kisses on your cheek. “ You did so good for me, princess .” He swallowed trying to regain his breath, forehead connecting with yours in the process of trying to calm yourself down as well.

“You’re so good to me, y/n. You’re too good to me, you were made for me, you’re mine.” He chuckled, patting your cheek to make sure your fluttering eyes looked into his round doe ones. You didn’t respond, he didn’t give you an opportunity to do so. 

With a quick and final kiss from him, Mark took you into an embrace, arms tightly around you with no way to free yourself from it (not like you wanted to at the moment) leaving you to simply return the gesture and hold onto him tightly. His cock still buried in you.

You could hear his heartbeat fighting to calm down but having you this close to him wasn’t much help. In that instance it all came crashing down on you and him. His once happy smile fell the moment clarity came in and the trees outside rustled. Their wind chimes slipping in between branches and leaves, repeating the same thing he’s already processing. There was some shame but no guilt or regret. He felt pity for Hyuck and the friendship they had. It all came to one conclusion: 

He’s betrayed his brother.

if you liked 'happy together' then you'll like: airbag

please let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2 or fill out the taglist form in the masterlist! no blank or ageless blogs!

taglist: @haknyeonsju @bbymatz

bad reputation | lee jeno

Pairing: JENO x female reader, Haechan x female reader Wordcount: 17.1k Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, dark theme Warnings: teen pregnancy, young mother, single mother, mentions and an attempt of su1cid3, death, bullying, spreading rumours, swearing, hospital, sexual harassment, reader punching someone.

Summary: People have judged you for being a single mother at eighteen. They thought of malicious things about your job for having to work from dusk to dawn. All of them are quick to jump to wrong conclusions and as quick to turn a blind eye when you needed help. All except for Jeno.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It is not intended to offend or insult anyone. Not proofread.

Taglist: @queenrachelpink @wanlore @luvlyjaemin @busy-namjooning @chitaphrrrr @bebsky @sptegami @crvshcultur3 @renjuanaea @jenjnm @sunshinedhyuck @ne0yong @multihoe1 @jenyongcas @kuncitizen @flower-lise @chenlewifey @jj-ms @harrythefarmer @chichhihaa @nurenciye I sincerely hope I didn’t miss anyone 🥲

She got a bad reputation She takes the long way home And all of my friends seen her naked Or so the story goes

“Why won't you just leave him alone?!”

Jeno looked up to see a small girl in bright blue overalls and yellow pigtails standing in front of him, protecting him from the kids who bully him nonstop all day, every day.

“What are you going to do? Tell his nanny? His nanny won't care like how his mom doesn't care about him!” the bully laughed mockingly. Jeno was about to say it's not true, but you rebutted almost instantly.

“No, but I'm going to kick you so hard where the sun doesn't shine you’ll forget your mama’s name.”

Jeno snapped his head towards you, worry plastered on his face. This kind of talk will undoubtedly bring you to the principal’s office if someone hears you and it's not worth it. Fortunately, your threats were enough to scare his bullies away. “Why would you do that?” Jeno is clearly pissed at you.

After what you did for him, the first thing you expected him to say is to thank you, but it seems like this kid in front of you is too proud to say it. You frowned at him, “You're ungrateful.” You disappointingly said and walked away.

Jeno felt bad and lost the courage to approach you after you called him ungrateful. 7-year-old Jeno spent all day how to make it up to you and he resorted to writing you a letter and leaving you a bag of cookies in your book nook when no one else was looking.

You found his peace offering just a little later and struggled to read through his incredibly bad penmanship and a series of misspellings, but any 6-year-old would appreciate his gesture. You offered to share with him the cookies and made yourself acquainted with the older boy.

“My name’s y/n.”

“I'm Jeno.”

Jeno wished he stayed in contact with you, but maybe it's part of growing up that some people will just lose connection with each other. You were never really friends with Jeno the way you were with your other friends, but you find it peaceful whenever you talk to him. It's almost as if you would enjoy conversing with him if he would not stiffen up, look at you and never reply. Which was too bad because you’re comfortable with him and you enjoyed his company that one time he actually said something other than agreeing with whatever you just said.

Jeno knows he’s socially awkward and he cannot really blame you for hardly talking to him because he never initiated a conversation with you ever at all. He's aware that he might have been the very reason why his relationship with you never improves. Nevertheless, he’s still thankful that despite his unintentional silent treatments, you remained friendly with him.

In return, he does his best to look after you from a safe distance. He was there when you joined band class in junior high, he remembered himself begging his parents to enroll him in guitar lessons so he can brag his skills in front of you during band practice. He was the one who left his clean sweatpants by your locker when you first had your period- he had no idea what that was. At first, he thought you didn't get to the restroom in time and it took him years to understand what just happened to you that day. He would leave treats, lunch and notes by your locker every chance he gets.

His crush on you grows over time, but he never pushed through it. He’s happy to watch you read his notes after class and stick your own note on your locker saying your thanks to the person who left the treats. You always ask him to meet you, but Jeno is still the same shy boy from kindergarten, he’d rather stay quiet and invisible than approaching you.

He couldn't find the best time and to gather enough courage to confess his feelings for you. Jeno thought he had all the time in the world and idled his confession but everything shifted in senior high for both you and him. Your lives went spiralling down.

Other girls at your age may have been having love problems, but you're different. The woman who raised you, fed you, clothed you have passed away. It was your grandmother who raised you and your older sister since the day your parents died in a car crash when you were young. You don't remember much about your parents to feel sad about their passing, but the death of your grandmother surely took a toll on you.

Your sister being 7 years older than you took the responsibility for taking care of you. She and her fiancé, Taeil, took you to their apartment without second thoughts and did their best to provide for your newfound family. From then on, it's the three of you against the world.

Jeno saw all these hardships and thought that he could do more than just leaving you comforting notes on your locker. He wanted to comfort you personally, talk to you, hold your hand when you're down, be the shoulder you cry on and to hug you. But someone else has clearly thought the same thing. The day that Jeno finally gathered enough courage to talk to you and excitedly looked everywhere for you with a bag of cookies in one hand is also the day when he found you at the football bench hugging someone else.

You're with Haechan. A boy from the same year as Jeno and the captain of the school’s soccer team is hugging you as you cry your heart out to him. He didn't think much about it, thinking it was just a friendly interaction.

But as days go by, all he could do is to watch you helplessly fall in love with the guy deemed to be perfect by social standards. What does he have against the popular jock in school? He’s just the guy who only learned to play guitar to impress a girl. He’s just the guy who couldn't even stand up to his own bullies, what more confessing his lifelong crush to you. Who is he compared to that guy? He’s just him, just Jeno.

He was broken-hearted even before he got his shot at you. It was wrong for him to assume that he could take his time and now he is regretting it. If he only decided to confess a week before or at least an hour earlier maybe things would turn out differently. Maybe he’s not watching you laugh because your boyfriend whispered something funny to you. Maybe he has the appetite to eat the chicken his friend, Jaemin, bought him for lunch. Maybe he’s not this miserable to see you happy with someone else.

It was hard for him, but he did what he does best. Love you from afar.

It took Jeno over a month to get over the fact that you're now dating the popular guy in school and eventually got used to the sight of you walking hand in hand with your boyfriend in the hallways. He found himself smiling at the sight of you having fun teasing your boyfriend for having a small hand. Maybe you dating that Haechan guy wasn't so bad after all.

You look happier now that you're with him and you finally have someone to lean on whenever life gets too harsh on you again. You seemed to be genuinely happy and Haechan looks like he cares for you deeply. Jeno wishes for your happiness and it doesn't matter if you found it in someone else, even if it means losing the chance of you liking him back. If you're happy then that's good enough for him.

Your life started to get back to normal with the help of your family and your boyfriend. You're thankful for them for helping you get back on your feet after the passing of your grandma. Haechan has been very sweet and funny, you couldn't ask for a better boyfriend than him. Soon enough, you’ve already been together for almost a year and it feels like you’ve only started dating last week.

~

It's Saturday and you're out at the mall with your sister and her fiancé, Taeil. Both of you were seated on the couch at Victoria’s Secret as you watched your sister walk across the room to look at the pyjamas on sale.

“What do you think Haechan would like to get as a gift?” You asked Taeil. He looked at you with a teasing smile.

“Why would you ask me? You know I suck at that. Ask your sister, she has very good eyes in buying gifts.”

“I don't want her to know I'm getting my boyfriend a gift.” You shrugged, you saw his eyes widen. You looked at your back and saw your sister standing behind you, one hand on her waist.

“You’re getting Haechan a gift?” Your sister asked you, giving you the eye.

“I am. It's almost our first anniversary and I'm thinking of getting him something.” You explained trying to make it sound like it's not that big a deal. You thought she’s going to ask you more questions, but you're surprised that she only smiled at you.

“Well, in buying gifts you should find him something meaningful. What does he like?”

You smiled as you thought of him, “You know that he plays soccer and he’s really good at it, in fact, there are colleges that are in contact with him already. He’s very well known at school and he’s one of the top students in his year. He’s really handsome and funny.”

You didn't notice that your sister and Taeil shared a meaningful look. “Okay, so he plays soccer and is popular. Anything else you know about him?” Your sister asked you. Her slightly concerned tone made you snap back from daydreaming.

“What do you mean? I already told you. Maybe I should get him something soccer-related since that's his thing, right? What do you guys think?” You smiled at them.

They decided not to meddle with your relationship but gave you a piece of advice that you wished you listened to, “I am happy for you that your relationship with Haechan is going strong, but I need you to remember to never give your all to a person you hardly know. Save some for yourself. Okay?"

Mistakes we all make them But they won't let it go, no 'Cause she's got a bad reputation But I know what they don't

The day you've been waiting for came.

It's finally your first anniversary, Haechan picked you up from your house and took you out to a carnival. He never lets you spend a single cent for the whole day even if you insisted. When the night came, he took you to a garden restaurant and spent dinner talking and laughing about everything.

You’re so much in love with him and you believe he feels the same, so when he parked his car in a secluded part of town, you prepared yourself for whatever may happen in that car. He was ever gentle and ever so sweet whispering comforting words to ease the pain you're feeling. He’s your first and you’re his. It was perfect and just like how you imagined it would be.

What happened that night brought the two of you closer. If he was already sweet before, he’s definitely sweeter now. He’s very attentive and gives you his full attention when you ask him for it. Your heart couldn't be any happier and Jeno saw that. Your glow is different, your smile is brighter. He’s jealous, but he’s very much happy for you.

This happiness only lasted for a month. When you missed your period and your frequent headaches took the best of you, you decided to tell your boyfriend what you think it might be. Both of you are smart enough to list down the possibilities of your symptoms, but none dared to speak it out.

Both of you are seated in his car in front of your house, you watch him as his hands grip the steering wheel. He knitted his brows, he was quiet for the longest time and you had to call his name to get him out of his thoughts.

“I don't want us to jump to any conclusions. Take a pregnancy test before you tell me shit like this.” You looked at him shocked, even he was taken aback at his tone and reaction. You chose to stay silent and nodded in agreement. Offended, you took your things hastily and hooked your bag on your shoulder, about to leave his car.

“Can you come with me when I do it?” You ask before you leave his car, he didn't look at you.

“I’ll be busy with practice this week.” He coldly replied.

“Fine. Then I'll take the test next week if that means I'm doing it with you.” You quickly slammed the car door and not even a second after he stepped on the gas and sped away. You watched his car lost in your sight.

That Haechan in there wasn't your Haechan. Instantly he became distant and cold, but you’re still thankful that he picked you up on Friday after school and brought you to a gasoline station as you took the test in the public bathroom.

Your heart is pounding, you were so nervous and you wished endlessly that it wasn't you think it was. 5 minutes later, you stared at the 3 sticks resting on top of the sink as they all drew a second pink line. Mouth hanging open, you broke down crying. Haechan heard the sound you made and worriedly knocked on the door. “What’s happening y/n?!”

You opened the door and quickly hugged Haechan in front of you, his instinct was to return the hug and caress your back. He whispered things to calm you down, but then he saw the positive pregnancy sticks on the sink. His mind stopped working and his body made the decision for him, he slowly removed your arms from his neck and mumbled, “I-I can’t.”

Confused, you looked up to him, “What do you mean you can’t?”

He shook his head, his eyes still remained at the sticks. “This. Y/n I can't be the father of your child- I can't be anyone's father.” His voice is shaking and fear is vividly shown in his face.

“Baby. Yes, you can. Of course, you can. We can do this together, we’ll talk this out and prepare for this.” It was your time to calm him down.

He shook his head one more time, “I said I fucking can't y/n! I'm not doing this! How can you be so sure that's even mine?! You could have easily cheated on me! I could not be the father of that child!” He said with so much venom your hand found its way to his cheek.

You slapped him so hard as tears run down your face, “You know fucking well that you're the only man I’ve ever slept with, how could you think of me that way?” You hardly finished your sentence with all the sobbing you did.

He looked you in the eyes, you saw different emotions flashed on his face. “I'm sorry.” That is all he managed to say and left you alone standing by the washroom with three positive pregnancy sticks and a life forming inside of you.

You spent the weekends in your room, avoiding your sister and Taeil. Guilt is reigning you, they took you in and fed you, and this is what you’re going to give back in return? Your sister is getting married in a few months, you know she’d postpone the wedding if she finds out that you're pregnant and Taeil doesn't deserve that.

You have so many plans in your life and getting knocked up at eighteen isn't one of them. You took your phone and confided to Twitter.

“This isn't happening to me”

“You fucked up my life”

“I fucked up my life”

Jeno follows you on Twitter and doesn't exactly know what you were talking about. It was hard for him to be only one screen away but unable to read you. He finally understood what your tweet was about when people at your school were wasting their time and energy whispering to each other, gossiping about someone else's life.

The news that you're pregnant spreads like wildfire, but what felt like a punch in the gut is it was Haechan who started it. He only told one person and the rest is history. You are now the infamous girl who cheated on the most popular guy at school and managed to get knocked up by the guy you cheated with.

What you didn't understand is why did your friends desert you, why is no one checking on you if you were okay, and why is no one asking to hear your side? Everybody believed the first thing they have heard and decided to stick with it. They already closed their minds for any explanations because in their eyes you're already a cheater and a whore. The saddest thing is the people who hate you are the same people you have showed kindness to. The people who keep spreading rumours about you are the same people you once called friends.

You were worried, paranoid, anxious, problematic and alone. You couldn't get a hold of your ex-boyfriend anymore and you figured he really didn't want to do anything with you. Your friends look at you with so much disgust that you can’t even find someone to have lunch with.

You're looking around the school cafeteria to find a place to sit, people are either looking at you with judgment or avoiding your stare. Then you saw a friendly face, the only person who gave you a sincere smile since the news about you blew up. You took a deep breath and walked towards his table. Jeno was in the middle of shoving spaghetti in his mouth when you sat in front of him and placed your food tray on the table. He stopped mid-track to look at you, he blinked a couple of times to make sure that he’s not hallucinating.

You just sat there waiting for him to say hi or welcome you, but you felt stupid for thinking he’s different as he just stared at you like he didn't even recognize you. “I'm sorry. I thought you- never mind. This is stupid I'm sorry.” You said as you stood up from your seat.

He quickly swallowed the food in his mouth and it almost choked him. “No, please don't leave, sit with us. I'm sure Jaemin wouldn't mind.” He looked at his friend at the same time you looked at him, he still had spaghetti sauce on his mouth, it made you smile a little.

“No. I don't mind at all. Eat with us by all means.” Jaemin replied. Jeno looked back at you with a smile on his face, his eyes are like crescent moons.

Their acceptance is enough for you to feel thankful. You were about to sit down when you heard the murmurs behind you, the whispers were so loud you weren’t sure if they're even trying to be discreet. “Where does she get the face to show up to school? And just look who she's sitting with, is she trying to corrupt every boy here?”

You were staring at your food when you felt a hand on top of yours. “Don’t listen to them. We don’t believe them.” Jeno assured you that made Jaemin nod his head.

You gave them a weak smile, “It was true though. I am pregnant.” Jeno was clearly taken aback, he thought the rumours about you were just rumours. He didn’t think it would be real.

You saw the dilemma in his eyes so you quickly added, “But I never cheated. I only slept with-” Jeno stopped you almost immediately. “Please don’t think you owe anyone an explanation. You don’t have to explain anything to us.” He told you kindly which almost made you tear up. “And honestly, it shouldn’t be anyone’s business anyway,” Jaemin said loud enough for the people around you to hear.

You were thankful for them but after that one time, you didn’t consider eating lunch with them again. They are genuinely nice people and you don’t want to drag them into your mess.

And I don't care what they say about you baby They don't know what you've been through

All of a sudden, you stopped showing up to school. Your sudden and continuous absences certainly made Jeno worry. He wanted to ask you how you're doing but he thought he might be crossing the line if he does. In the second week of your unexplained absences, Jeno decided to visit the school councillor and ask about you.

“I appreciate your concern for your friend Mr. Lee. Miss y/ln came here two weeks ago with her sister to inform us that she will be dropping out of school. Her health is the main reason for the decisions they have made and took her doctor's advice to take a much-needed rest away from the stress of school."

Jeno’s mind is quick to think of the worst possible scenarios, his leg is jumping up and down from tension as he couldn't stop himself from imagining you in a hospital bed. “What happened to her? How is she? Is she stressed out? I did some research and read that stress could be dangerous for the baby. How’s her baby? Are they okay? They should be okay if they're resting at home right?”

The councillor cleared her throat as Jeno mentioned ‘baby’ and carefully picked the right words to say, not wanting to give any sensitive information about you. “The pregnancy rumours about her could or could not be true Mr. Lee. Let’s not dwell in that.”

“But I know she’s pregnant. She told me that herself. I just need to know what happened to her. Please.”

“If she really told you about that very personal information, then you're probably close enough with her to ask her how she's doing. I cannot talk to you about her situation any further, I hope you understand.”

Jeno walked out of the councillor’s office dejected, Jaemin who's been waiting for him to come out stood up from his seat and walked up to Jeno. “What did she say? Is y/n okay?

“She didn't say anything else other than y/n dropped out from school due to health reasons.”

“Health reasons? Could this be about her pregnancy?” Jaemin whispered.

“I don't know, but it's most likely because of it. I hope they're doing okay. I'm worried about her baby.”

“Why would you worry about the baby? Wouldn't it be better for you if she los-”

Jeno quickly grabbed Jaemin’s collar and pulled him closer. “Don't you even dare finish saying that.”

Jaemin raised both of his hands and apologized as Jeno let go of him, “I'm sorry man. I just thought you’ve been in love with her for so long and having a baby is such a dealbreaker.”

“How’s that a dealbreaker? She’s bringing a life into this world and that's more to love about her. And why are you thinking that way Jaem? That’s a new low for you. You're no different from the people who judged her.”

Jeno quickly left, leaving Jaemin speechless.

~

The stress from school and the pressure of keeping your pregnancy a secret drove you near to having a miscarriage.

Your sister is excitedly talking about her wedding and how your graduation is two years away and how you should start sending applications to universities soon made your head started spinning. You felt a sharp pain in your abdomen and couldn't help but groan.

“What's wrong?” Your sister quickly walked to you. The excruciating pain couldn't let you speak. “Oh my god.” Your sister mumbled beside you looking at your legs. You followed her stare and looked down at yourself. Blood is dripping down your legs and starting to pool at your feet. You're slowly losing your strength and lean your weight on your sister. You heard her screaming for Taeil and felt him carry you.

“I'm sorry.” You whispered before blacking out.

You woke up in a hospital bed, you looked around and saw Taeil sleeping on a chair. A little later your sister came into your room with a cup of water. She quickly walked to your side when she saw you awake. “Y/n! You gave us a heart attack. How are you feeling? Are you hurt somewhere?”

Your sister examined you herself and the genuine concern in her voice made you cry. She already found out about your pregnancy but there is no hint of anger in her. She tried calming you down but it only made you cry harder.

“I'm going to call a doctor.” Taeil said and got up from his seat to look for help.

“What's wrong, y/n? Use your words, honey.” Your sister cooed at you.

“I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to.” You finally said between your sobs.

She only gave you a smile at you with tears in her eyes threatening to fall. “Shh. We’re going to be with you every step of the way.” She assured you.

All the fear you have been keeping to yourself faded. A little later Taeil came back with your doctor. She asked you if you were stressed in the past days and for the sake of your baby, you told the truth in front of your sister. “The stress started when I had suspicions about being pregnant. I told my…” You looked at your sister before continuing “-boyfriend about it and he asked for me to take a pregnancy test before assuming things so I did, and when the tests came out positive, he denied that he’s the father of my baby when he knows all too well that he’s the only guy I ever slept with. For some reason, everyone in school found out that I am pregnant and someone spread rumours that I was sleeping with different guys. And I couldn't find the right time to tell my family about it because I was scared that they'd get mad at me.” Your heard your sister sobbing beside you but you kept your eyes on your doctor who only gave you a sympathetic smile.

“The stress caused your blood pressure to spike up. High blood pressure is extremely dangerous to the health of your baby, it could end in several things including premature birth and miscarriage, which brings me to the reason why you're here today. You had what we medically called a threatened abortion, this gave you a higher possibility rate of having a miscarriage especially during the early stages of your pregnancy.” You felt your sister's hand on top of yours, you gave it a squeeze and she held onto you tighter. “If all of your stress is coming from your environment, I suggest that you avoid it in the meantime. I know education is very important and you wish to continue your studies but I highly recommend that you take a break from school- at least until you give birth to a healthy baby.” Your doctor added.

“I’ll do everything to keep my baby safe.” Your sister gave you a nod in agreement.

“And you have our full support.” Taeil also gave your hand a squeeze. You were certain that you could handle everything and anything with them by your side.

Trust me, I could be the one to treat you like a lady Let me see what's underneath, all I need is you

8 months later you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. You named your daughter Dasom, which means love. Her family might be unique but she will grow with overflowing love.

Your pregnancy was so difficult that you had to get extra hands to help you to do the simplest things. Your sister and Taeil have the kindest hearts to put you first before their wedding. You felt so bad but they already made their decision and focused on helping you with your pregnancy. Half of the money they saved up for their wedding was used to buy things in preparation for your baby’s arrival. They did not give you the chance to stop them, mostly because they buy the baby stuff behind your back.

The wedding happened six months later. In the end, the couple decided to have a civil ceremony in the mayor’s office instead. The wedding might have been less grand than their initial plan but their hearts are still over the moon. Now that they're married you thought it would be best for you to get your own small apartment. Your sister and her husband would be needing a lot of personal time to start their own family and you didn't want to be the one hindering it too.

Although they insisted that they didn't mind you and your daughter staying with them, you moved out anyway. You saw an ad for a one-bedroom apartment a few blocks away from your sister's house and you immediately grabbed the opportunity to rent it. It’s time to live independently. Being a single mother will never be easy and you have to get used to it.

You’re finishing high school through GED and attending classes from 5 o’clock in the afternoon until 10 in the evening, then right after class you will go straight to your job and work from 11 PM until 7 in the morning. You leave your daughter in your sister’s care and will pick her up the next morning before your sister leaves for work and after you take a couple of hours nap. You spend your whole day playing with Dasom and you couldn’t think of any better way to spend it. Sure, it wasn’t as independent as you imagined it would be, but as long as you're giving the best for your daughter you don't think you're going to regret anything at all.

People were still quick to judge you when they found out that you’re a teenage, single mother that works from dusk to dawn in a suspicious bar. You couldn’t care less of what they have to say, you just let them think whatever they wanted to think and continued minding your own business. Your days of trying to please the people around you are over because the moment you became a mother, the gravity of your world shifted from you to her. Everything you do, every decision you make is for your daughter. You watch her grow every day and each day you see more of yourself in her. Her smiles are just like yours and when you look her into the eyes it’s like you’re staring in a mirror.

You’re so proud of her and her achievements at a very young age. At nineteen months, she chooses her own clothes to wear and you would always post her outfits on your Twitter account.

When you dropped out of school you decided that it’s best for you to lay off social media and deleted every account you have on each platform except for Twitter. You blocked almost everyone from your school. From almost a thousand followers you only left 20 people in your followers and it’s arguably one of the best things you did.

Jeno is one of the few people you didn't remove from your followers. And since you detoxed toxic people out of your life, you started sharing more intimate and personal things about yourself. You posted pictures of your pregnant belly back when you were still pregnant, to pictures from your sister’s wedding, and even the very first picture you took with your daughter in the delivery room.

He's never been more updated to you before than he is now.

Now that Jeno’s in college, reading your tweets is his way of de-stressing. A cute picture of you and your daughter would easily take a week worth of his stress. You often tweet pictures of your daughter and Jeno would always be the first one to like them. The resemblance you had to your daughter is uncanny.

Tonight is no different for Jeno. After a long day of studying and burying himself in workloads, he laid himself in his bed and opened his Twitter account going straight to your page. The vibe of your twitter is always light and welcoming, something he needs after a tiring day. Other than your updates about your daughter you retweet a lot of motivational quotes and hilarious memes every day, but instead of seeing something funny, he saw an extremely alarming tweet posted just a few seconds ago.

Forgive me, love. Mama isn’t strong enough. I love you so much. Don’t be like mama.

Without any second thoughts, Jeno bolted from his bed and ran to his car. There is something wrong with your tweet and he felt it in his bones. He was so worried that he didn’t hear his mother calling after him. Jeno looked at the time, it’s 2 o’clock in the morning. Where could you be at this hour? The only place he could think of was your job and that’s where he found himself heading to.

She got a bad reputation Nobody gets too close A sight of a soul when it's breaking Making my heart grow cold

Jeno was so worried he kept mumbling things to himself, it's even plausible that he's already praying without him realizing it. He didn’t bother checking his speed anymore, all he could think of is to get to you as fast as he possibly could.

As he was passing through a bridge, he saw a very familiar figure standing on the very edge of the rail. He quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and quietly- but quickly- run to you. Jeno was smart enough not to close his car door, afraid to make a sound that could scare you to jumping.

You were crying your heart out, begging for your daughter’s forgiveness but no matter how hard and how much you weep, the weight and agony in your heart never ceased. You’re lost, hopeless and beyond help. You couldn’t think of any solution other than this and the only thing that’s stopping you is your daughter. It was never your intention to leave her fatherless and motherless, but she’s better off without a mother like you. Taeil and your sister are more capable of giving her the life you couldn’t give.

You exhaled deeply and stepped closer to the edge ready to jump when you felt two arms wrapped around your body and hastily pulled you back to the ground. Your body dropped over him, Jeno could feel your whole body shivering. His arms tightened around you, terrified to let you go. He was so petrified he didn’t realize that he’s now crying with you. Jeno somehow managed to call 911 without letting go of you. Your legs turned to jelly and lost all your strength to fight back so you stayed in his grip. He held onto you on the ground whispering comforting words trying his best to calm you but your tears are flowing uncontrollably. A few minutes later an ambulance and police came to your aid.

The emergency responders gave you a much-needed sedative to calm you. A police officer is nice enough to drive Jeno’s car to the hospital as he jumps in the ambulance with you refusing to leave you alone. He held your hand tightly and watched you peacefully sleeping on an ambulance stretcher. A doctor quickly assessed your condition upon arriving at the hospital and only then the police took Jeno’s statement. Even while talking to the police he never took his eyes away from you, as if you were going to disappear any second.

You’re now in a private room. Jeno is by your feet just watching you sleep when your sister, Taeil and Dasom arrived. Your sister cried as she kissed your hair while Taeil quietly caressed her back. Jeno looked at your daughter. This is the first time he saw her in person, she’s beautiful and she looks just like you. Your sister noticed Jeno in the corner of the room and hugged the life out of him while endlessly thanking him for saving your life.

“Some people would think nothing of her tweet, but you did something. How can we ever repay you?” She said between her sobs and sad smile. Jeno wanted to say he’s not just some people. He’s in love with you for god knows how long.

“I’m her friend and I only did what a friend would do.” Jeno smiled at them. Taeil walked to Jeno, Dasom in his arms, and offered him his hand that Jeno gladly took. “Thank you for saving my sister’s life. We’ll be forever in your debt.”

It was already 4am when Jeno got home to his worried parents waiting for him in the living area. “Lee Jeno, where the hell did you go in the middle of the night leaving your phone in your room?!” It was the first time Jeno saw his mom mad, let alone yelling. His father is just sitting on the couch looking intently at him waiting for Jeno to answer his mother’s question.

“Mom, dad. I’m sorry I didn’t get to text you or call you but there was an emergency-”

“How urgent could it be that you just ran past me?” His mom asked.

“A friend from high school tweeted something concerning so I went out to look for her and I saw her…” Jeno remembered how his body went cold at the sight of you standing on the edge of the bridge. “-about to jump off a bridge.”

Jeno buried his face in the palm of his hands, his parents went silent. He didn’t realize that he’s already crying in front of them. He was so scared. What if he didn't get to you in time. What if he didn’t open his Twitter account that night. His mother said not another word and hugged him tightly and his dad joined later on. “How is she now? Is she alright?” His dad asked as Jeno calmed down.

Jeno nodded. “Yes, dad. I got there just in time to stop her. She’s in the hospital right now with her sister, brother in law… and her daughter.”

“A lot happened tonight. You should get to bed and try to catch some sleep and pay her a visit later. And if there’s anything at all, you know you can always talk to me and your dad right?”

Jeno gave them a smile, “Yes mom. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“We love you son.” His father added.

~

Skipping school to visit you in the hospital is probably the most rebellious thing Jeno has done in his life and he’s more than willing to do it again if he has to. He couldn't think of anything to bring you so he brought you cookies instead. As he made his way to your room he ran through your sister coming from the cafeteria holding two cups of coffee.

“Did you at least sleep? It's only been 4 hours since you’re last here.” Your sister asked Jeno, handing him a cup of coffee.

“Thank you.” Jeno said. He took a sip and felt the warmth of the drink spread through his chest. “I tried sleeping but after last night, I didn't really expect to sleep easily."

Your sister gave him a nod and a weak smile. “I get it. We’re all worried for her. Even my husband wanted to stay here in the hospital to watch after her, but one of us has to continue working to pay for the hospital bills. The ambulance alone costs two grand, imagine that."

Jeno couldn't lookup. He somehow felt responsible for the expenses they have to pay since he was the one who called 911. “I'm sorry, I will pay for the ambulance fee.”

“Oh god no! That's not what I meant! You’ve done so much for us already, I shouldn't have told you that I apologize. I'm just overly stressed, I forgot to think for a second there."

He didn't listen and took out his wallet and pulled out five-hundred dollars cash. “I could withdraw more later or pay directly with my card, but please take this for the meantime.” Jeno handed the money to your sister with both of his hands.

Your sister could only look at the money and shook her head. “I can't do that to you Jeno. This is too much.”

“Please. You need all the help you could get for y/n and Dasom. I will never ask for anything in return, I just want to help.”

Your sister sighed and took the money from him. “Thank you, Jeno. But I'm only borrowing this. We will pay you back, I promise.”

“And can we not tell y/n about this? Please?” Jeno pleaded, the least your sister could do is nod.

~

You're already awake and currently playing with your daughter in your room. Last night should have been your last night and if it weren't for Jeno you wouldn't be playing with your daughter right now.

“Mama, sad?” Your daughter asked you as she tries to erase the sad frown on your face.

“Mama’s just happy that I get to play with you today.”

Your daughter hugged you tightly, burying her head in your chest, “Don't be sad. I will play with you every day.” Her voice was full of innocence and you're so mad at yourself for even considering hurting her.

“And I promise you that I will be with you every day.” You kissed your daughter's head and lulled her to sleep. You were watching your daughter fall asleep on your chest when Jeno knocked on your door, holding a bag of cookies in one hand.

Remembering the events from last night was so embarrassing for you. You never wanted anyone to see you so vulnerable, especially by someone you’re only acquainted with. Jeno, who you barely talk with, saw you at your lowest and you didn't know how to act around him now after what happened. You were so ashamed to look him in the eyes, but you tried your best to give him a smile.

“Hi.” He whispered, careful not to wake Dasom up. “I met your sister at the lobby. She's doing some paper works but she said she'll be back soon.”

You nodded and cleared your throat. The silence is killing you. You wanted to thank him for what he did last night but you couldn't find your voice to speak. “I-Uhm.” You started, but words flew out of your head. What's so hard with saying I’m sorry and Thank you?

Jeno sensed that you're uncomfortable and prompted to leave. “I could leave and come back later when your sister’s here.” He offered.

“No, please stay.” You called out. “I haven't thanked you for what you did yet. Thank you.” For the first time, you looked into his eyes. You’ve known the guy since you were just little kids but you couldn't recall if you ever looked at him the way you're doing right now. His eyes are so pretty as if they hold the wonders of the world. Jeno is a shy boy but his eyes are bold and candid.

He only gave you a smile and looked at your sleeping daughter. “She’s beautiful. Looks just like you.”

Your eyes shifted to your daughter, “She is.” You said as you shuffled on your bed trying to find a comfortable position. She didn't get enough sleep last night and you didn't want to wake her from her much-needed nap, but your IV line is caught in between your daughter's body and you could feel the piercing pain every time you move.

“Isn't she heavy? Do you want me to take her?” Jeno asked. You nodded immediately and gave a shy chuckle. He walked closer to your bed, put the bag of cookies on your bedside table before carefully taking your sleeping daughter in his arms. You could swear that you felt your heartbeat loudly as you watched Jeno cradling your sleeping daughter. Jeno couldn't help but smile at the sight of your daughter sinking her face to his chest.

“She does that all the time. She loves cuddling.” You told him with a smile.

“I love cuddles too.” Jeno cooed and showed his ever most beautiful eye smile. Jeno sat down on the chair by your bed and continued to cradle Dasom in his arms. “I brought you cookies.” He said. “I don't know what's appropriate to bring and that's all I could think of. Please enjoy them.”

You chuckled and took the bag of cookies to your hand. “Just like the cookies you gave me in kindergarten.”

His heart jumped. He didn't think you would still remember what happened over a decade ago. He feels like screaming in so much happiness but the sleeping figure of Dasom keeps him from doing so. He blushed like crazy though. “You still remember that?” He asked.

“Of course. I saved you from your bullies and you gave me these as a thank you. You're my very first friend.” and currently my only friend, you thought.

He relived that day so many times in his head and this is the first time he's hearing your side of the story. “You were my first friend too. My bullies left me alone after what you did so I kind of owe you my peaceful childhood.” He laughed at his own joke and you couldn't help but chuckle with him.

“And I owe you my life today. I guess we're even now.” You tried to make a joke about what happened, but Jeno knows how serious it was and he couldn't let it go without letting you know that you're loved and cared for.

“Y/n.” He called out. You hummed and looked at him. “Whatever you're going through, I need you to know that it will not always be this difficult and it will not always be this painful. It's okay to be weak, but it's critical to know when to ask for help. I know we're not that close but if you need someone to talk to— even if I'm the last person in your mind— I will always be here for you.”

You never had someone tell you this. Sure you have your family, but you couldn't tell them your problems and risk being a burden again. They’ve done so much for you already. It might sound shallow, but Jeno’s heartening words took off some of the weight you carry. His promises made you feel protected. You felt like you showed him the bareness of your soul and the next thing you know you're already pouring all of your troubles and distress to him.

“I work as a waitress at a club, a strip club to be precise. I don't strip, I only serve drinks and snacks to customers. It's the only job that works well with our schedules that pays good and gives good tips. It's the perfect job despite what people think of me. That job provides for us, it gives Dasom a comfortable life and I get to save money for her future.” You gave a sad smile.

“But something happened a week ago. A club’s patron came and ordered his usual drink except that he also wanted me to strip for him in private. He knows I'm just a waitress and I am off-limits, but he…” Your eyes started to get cloudy as you think of what happened next. “—he forcefully touched me so I punched him in the face and broke his nose. They wanted me to apologize, but I refused so the club fired me instead. I begged them not to, but they're scared of him. I've been applying to different places but that man is influential and blacklisted me wherever I go.” You wiped your tears before continuing,

“I have been using my savings to buy diapers and formula for Dasom, to pay bills and to feed myself. In the span of a week I already used half of it and I still haven't gotten a job. I was desperate and I thought of my life insurance. We got a generous amount of money when our parents died and if Dasom were to receive that kind of money it would be more than enough to give her a better future.”

You looked down on your fingers and played with them. Jeno stared at you with so much pain. His heart broke after hearing your story and he swore that he could do so much more than a punch in the face if he ever saw that man that caused you all this. “I'm sorry. That man is a jerk. He got what he deserved and you should have given him a nice kick on his shin too.”

You laughed. “I guess I should've done that. Make sure it's broken, not sprained.”

“All jokes aside you have to know that no amount of money is worth your life. I understand that you only wanted the best for your daughter but Dasom needs her mother more than a pile of money.”

You kept your head down as you let your tears fall. What Jeno said is a bitter pill that is hard to swallow but you needed to take it to make you feel better. You looked at Jeno who was staring at you and gave him a faint smile. Jeno saw tears starting to pool around your eyes but there is understanding and deep gratitude behind those tears.

A little later your sister came back and that was Jeno’s cue to leave. He planned on staying in the hospital with you for the whole day, but after your talk, he had more important things to attend to. Jeno walked to his car and dialled someone, “Dad? I'm on my way to your office, I have something to ask from you.”

And into the deeper she's sinking I'm begging her please don't let go She's got a bad reputation But she's all that, all I want though

“What is it, son? I'm sorry but you have to make it fast. I have to leave the office after this.” He rambled as his eyes were still focused on the papers in front of him. A frown is visible on his forehead but there's also a noticeable wrinkle beside his eyes and crease on both sides of his mouth, a sign of his frequent smiles.

“Is your next meeting important? Can mom be here too?” Jeno asked in all seriousness that made his father look away from the pile of paper in front of him and glanced at his son.

“I can push it in the afternoon. What's wrong?”

“Nothing to worry about dad, but I’d still need mom with us if you don't mind.” Jeno gave his father a reassuring smile.

“Of course.” His dad called his secretary to move his schedule an hour later and asked for his wife to his office. Ten minutes later his mother arrived with a worried look on her face. Jeno guided his mom to the seat in front of him. “What do you want to talk about Jeno?” His mother softly asked.

“Mom, dad. Do you remember the friend I talked to you about yesterday night?”

His mom nodded, “Yes. What about her? You paid her a visit earlier right?” Her eyes widened, “Is she alright?” His father seems to have caught up with his wife’s thoughts and gasped silently, darting his eyes to his son, hoping for good news.

Jeno immediately raised his hands and waved their assumptions away. “Oh god, no! God, no.” His parents' expressions softened. “Nothing bad happened to her. She’s okay, her sister and her daughter are with her at the hospital. She’s getting the help she needs and she’s doing much better.”

“You should have led with that son.” Said his father to lighten up the mood. Jeno chuckled.

“Actually, I came here to talk to you about her and the reason why she did what she did yesterday. And I need both of you to listen to me first before saying or asking anything.” His parents promised and waited for their son to speak again. Jeno inhaled deeply. This is probably the first time he’s going to open up something so personal to him, to his parents.

“Her name’s Y/N. She has an older sister who is married to an electrician. Their parents died in a car crash when she was extremely young and were brought up by their grandmother who died just a couple of years ago. She fell in love with the wrong man at eighteen and got pregnant, the guy did not want to do anything with them. She bravely dropped out of school to work full time so she can raise her daughter alone while she studies to get her diploma equivalent certificate. She goes to school in the afternoon and works in a bar at night as a waitress. She’s a very brave woman and she’s so much more than what people judged her to be. Unfortunately, she recently lost her job when she stood up and protected herself from harm. Her name was blacklisted in every place she applied at. Desperate, she thought about her life insurance and how the insurance money would benefit her daughter financially. The next thing she knew, she’s standing at the edge of a bridge. I'm here asking, as your son, using all the privilege I could use to get my friend a job in this company.”

His parents shared a significant look as if their eyes were spoken a thousand words already. He watched his parents stare at each other for what feels like forever. His father put his hand on top of his mother’s lap and nodded. “Son, do you mind me asking, what's your relationship with this girl?”

Jeno looked his father in the eyes. He knows what his father meant to ask and he’s scared of their reaction if he says something they might not like. Jeno avoided his father’s stare before answering. “Nothing special. As I said, she’s a friend.”

“You’d go crazy looking for a friend in the middle of the night?”

“Dad, I already explained that to you. Any decent human being would do the same.”

“And you would barge in my office, demand our time just to listen to her depressing life story and then expect us to magically find a job for her just because you said so?” His father asked calmly. Too calm that it scared him, but Jeno didn't let it get to him.

“I didn't barge, I called beforehand. I asked for your undivided time respectfully and you gave it to me. It doesn't matter who she is to me, I just need to know if we could help her or not, sir.” Jeno ended on a strong note but kept it polite.

“You like this girl do you?” His mom finally spoke. He tried reading her eyes but he couldn't read anything, he then switched his gaze to his father who also shares the same expressionless face his mother holds.

“This girl’s name is Y/N and yes mom, I like her. I think I've liked her since we're in kindergarten and I never stopped liking her since then. Actually, no. I don't just like her. I’m in love with her.”

Jeno confessed his feelings for the first time. He knew that he’s in love with you but he never said it out loud. Hearing it from himself after years of hiding it made his feelings more serious and deeper than he thought it was.

“But she has a daughter—”

“A very beautiful and innocent daughter.” Jeno quickly added. “I honestly don't care if she had a child. She is the most kind-hearted person and she deserves to be loved just as much as any other person out there if not more.” The next thing happened quickly. His mom is crying but there's a smile on her face. His dad is also smiling, showing the same crescent eyes he has and keeps on saying he’s proud of him.

“Wait. You're not mad?” Jeno asked, confused.

His mom walked to him and hugged him tightly. “Of course not. We're glad that we brought up a gentleman.”

“And about your request, of course, we could open a position just for her. We can hire her as an interim assistant for now and prepare her for a secretarial job. In that way, you’ll have someone to guide you when you take over the company after you graduate from business school. As for her salary, we can only give her an appropriate amount of pay for her job to keep it fair to our other employees, but her pay would increase annually by 2%. I'll also make sure to give her benefits and full coverage insurance for her including her daughter by extension. How’s that sound?” His father proudly said.

Jeno stood up from his seat and hugged his father, tears threatening to fall but he couldn't care any less. “Sounds perfect. Thank you, dad.” He whispered before turning to his mother, “thank you, mom.”

~

“And there's also an exclusive daycare at the building where you can leave Dasom. You can visit her any chance you can get, and think of the benefits, you can easily save money for Dasom’s college.”

Jeno already told you the news about the job offer. He’s been hyping about it for an hour no, you didn't listen to half of what he said because you were so busy watching him talk excitedly. You have never seen him this talkative and you just noticed that he makes the cutest giggles when he says something funny.

“So what do you think? Dad said you can start as soon as you can. Y/N? Are you even listening?”

“I'm sorry I was just thinking about something.”

Jeno groaned and slumped himself on the chair. “I’ve been talking for an hour now. My mouth is parched already and you didn't even pay attention. Wow.” He sarcastically said, gaining a laugh from you.

“I heard half of it! I'm sorry.” Which of course he forgave you. How can he ever get mad at you?

“So? Will you take the job?”

You hesitated. The job is the best you could get especially for someone who didn't graduate from high school and hasn't finished taking GED classes yet, but you don't know what to feel that it will be Jeno, once again, giving you another chance to live your life. He did so much for you already and you feel bad that you caused this burden to him and he probably feels like he's responsible for you now. “I'm grateful. I really am. But am I not extremely underqualified for the job? It's literally a secretarial job at a corporation and I'm just a teenager without education or experience in an office job.”

Jeno walked near to you and sat by your feet. “You're one of the smartest students in your batch and there is nothing you couldn't learn. You have 3 years to learn everything you need to learn and when you're ready for the actual job, you’ll be working mostly with me. I’ll always be here for you so there's nothing to worry about. Don't let this opportunity get away and just say yes.”

You quickly inched closer to him and hugged him so tight he thought he started seeing clouds. He reached your back and hugged you too.

“Thank you much Jeno. You don't know how much this means to me.”

His heart swelled with pride. Finally, he’s not just someone who watches from afar. He’s no longer hiding behind the pieces of paper he leaves on your locker, no longer hiding behind the screen. He’s now helping you, hugging you, talking to you. It's far more than what he craved to do and he’s pleased with how much his relationship with you improved. From being someone you know from kindergarten, he's now a friend.

“Mama?” You quickly break away from the hug and Jeno backs away from the bed. You look at your daughter watching you from the door. “Hey baby, what are you doing there? Where's your aunt?” Dasom ran towards you and asked to be lifted. “Baby, I can't lift you. I’m still wearing this tube see?” You showed her your left hand with an IV injected into it.

She took a short glance then walked to Jeno stretching both of her arms up to him. “Can you lift me to my mama's bed?” Jeno’s heart pounded with joy, feeling special that your daughter casually walked and talked to him.

“Of course.” He pulled her up to his arms and gently put her on your bed.

“What are you going to say?” You asked your daughter.

“Thank you, sir.” Jeno couldn't help but smile. He thought he's going to faint in happiness when she blew him a kiss to say thanks.

“You're very welcome, Dasom. You can call me Jeno.” He properly introduced himself to her.

“Okay, Jeno.” She smiled so big her missing tooth was showing.

“He’s Uncle Jeno, call him Uncle Jeno.” You corrected your daughter which almost made Jeno seizure on his feet. He was so flattered that you made your daughter call him uncle, he could only give you a smile which you gladly returned.

And I don't care what they say about you baby They don't know what you've been through

Two days later you were finally discharged from the hospital, but you still have to keep up with counselling that helps you learn how to properly handle problems and stress. You rested at home for a week after discharge and went to start your new job at Mr. Lee’s company. The people there welcomed you warmly and were very friendly. All of your coworkers are older than you, they guided you through your first day and helped you understand how the office works.

The salary you're earning now is just a little over what you're earning at the bar, but here, you have a safer workplace, lots of benefits and you work on normal working hours. There is indeed an exclusive daycare in the building, you visit Dasom at daycare every chance you get and watch her play with kids her age.

Your relationship with Jeno changed in some way. Every day, Jeno would pick you and Dasom up from work and drive you home. Sometimes he would take you and your daughter to Mcdonald’s drive-thru and get Dasom a happy meal while the two of you shared 20 pcs Mcnuggets. There are times that Jeno would play with Dasom at the daycare to keep your daughter from getting bored when you're needed to stay overtime.

Jeno did not try hiding that he likes you and even though he never confessed, you're aware of what he feels for you, and there is no point in denying that you're starting to reciprocate special feelings for him too. The way he takes care of you and Dasom is something that always gets you.

But the last time you fell in love you were left alone with a broken heart and a pregnant belly, so even though you know Jeno is nothing like your ex-boyfriend, you decided to not make a big deal out of it and continued acting as if your heart's not beating so loud every time your eye catches Jeno.

“Hey. I came here to pick up a kid. She’s from the daycare, her name’s Dasom. Do you know her by any chance?” Jeno said with a smile on his face, Dasom giggling beside you.

“We’re the ones you're going to pick up uncle Jeno.” Dasom ran to his leg and hugged it.

“Oh. You're here! I didn't see you.” Jeno bent down to hug your daughter.

“Yes, you did! Mama said lying means no Peppa for a week!”

“No Peppa for a week?! That's outrageous! I guess lying will do me no good, does it?” He smiled and straightened his back as he carried your daughter in one arm then put the other around your shoulder.

“How’s work today babe?” He asked it so casually like he’s been calling you babe for a long time now. Your heart is like throwing a big EDM party in your chest, you couldn't find the right words to say. Jeno, like you, was caught off guard by his unexpected use of the term in endearment. “Uhh. S-sorry. That’s- that's”

“No. It's fine.” You saved him from another embarrassment of explaining why he called you that.

It's been a year since the day you almost committed the stupidest mistake of your life. Jeno and your family supported you in your recovery and pull your life back together. They became your emotional support and you couldn't imagine life without them anymore, so his small mistake of calling you “babe” shouldn't scare you at all right?

“Mama is uncle Jeno’s babe.” Dasom is giggling while you're strapping her in her booster seat. Jeno heard it loud and clear, his face immediately turned bright red. Lucky for him you weren't able to see that. “Uncle Taeil calls auntie babe too.” You love your daughter to death but at this moment you could only wish for her to… “Mama, are you getting married to uncle Jeno too?” —shut up.

“Shh. Please take a nap, Dasom baby. I'm begging you.” You whispered to your daughter, but then again Jeno heard it, making him snort into laughter. Hearing his laugh is contagious. You couldn't help but laugh the awkwardness away. “I'm sorry. 3-year-olds are normally this curious.” You apologized as you put your own seatbelt on.

He smiled at you. He’s been meaning to ask you out for a long time, but he couldn't find the right time to do so. And the more he procrastinates the more he sees himself in the same situation he was in high school. “I don't mind being your mama’s babe. Do you think she would?” Jeno bravely asked your daughter at the backseat, keeping his eyes on the rearview mirror.

“I don't know. Mama’s right beside you, you ask her. Uncle Jeno’s silly.” She giggled louder when Jeno looked at you next.

“So? Do you mind being my babe?” There's a smirk on his face.

The world feels like closing into you like you couldn't breathe but in a good way. Would this be a good idea? Getting back into the dating world scares the shit out of you, but you thought, you're not going to date just anybody. It's Jeno. The person you could literally trust your life with. “I think Uncle Jeno should take us out on a date first. What do you think, baby?” You asked your daughter too.

You heard your daughter’s loud ‘yeah’ and screamed ‘Mcdonald's nonstop, but you couldn't take your eyes away from the man beside you that is wearing the widest and sweetest smile you've ever seen. He took your hand and kissed your knuckles. “A chance is all I'm asking for. Thank you.”

You touched his cheek with the same hand and caressed it, he put weight on your palm and looked at you dreamingly. “Something tells me you're worth the jump.” You smiled back

Giving Jeno the chance to prove to you that not all men are assholes is one of the best things you have done. You started seeing him in a different light, you saw how he and your daughter get along well, how he takes care of you, how he manages his time studying and spending time with you. He’s been everything you imagined he would be. One time you found yourself letting people at the mall compliment your little ‘family’ and your heart fluttered more when Jeno thanked them for saying that he looks like your daughter.

Jeno exceeded the standards of being boyfriend material. At the age of 23, you saw responsibility and maturity in him. He does well in his school, is a gentleman and is a family man. You're proud that you're the one he loves and you've been wanting to become his girlfriend for quite some time now, but something is stopping you.

Guilt.

How could you make a perfect man like Jeno father a child that is not his? A man like Jeno should be with a woman that meets his standards. Smart, educated and free. Unlike you, who barely even finished high school, knocked up at eighteen. You believe that he deserves more than what you can offer at your best.

“Hey babe what are you thinking?" He sat beside you on the park bench with a princess Tiana backpack hooked on his shoulder and a bright pink toddler’s cup in one hand.

You gave him a smile. You truly don't deserve him. “Nothing. Just things.”

He frowned. “It looks serious. What's it about?”

You looked away and searched for your daughter playing soccer with the other kids. “Thank you for bringing us here. It means a lot.” You said, changing the topic.

The frown on his face disappeared as he watched Dasom chase the ball, “You don't have to thank me every time I spend quality time with you and Dasom. I love her as much, she's such a sweet girl with a kind heart. Just like her mom.”

You were about to answer when you saw her tripped and fell on her stomach, you wouldn’t worry at first but then you heard her cry and she rarely cries. Both of you jumped up from your seat and ran towards your daughter when a strangely familiar man came to her aid first. “Where does it hurt?” You heard him ask as he checked your daughter's feet. That voice is too familiar to you and you didn't like it. You only confirmed who it was when Jeno looked at you with a worried look.

It's Haechan.

And trust me, I could be the one to treat you like a lady Let me see what's underneath, all I need is you

“Excuse me, that's my daughter.” You sternly said, slightly shoving Haechan away. “Where does it hurt baby?” You felt his gaze on you but you didn't bother looking back. “Jeno, we should get this checked. I think she twisted her ankle and she might have a sprain.” Jeno nodded and immediately carried your daughter and ran to his car. Haechan was about to follow them when you stopped him, “Your concern is appreciated, but you're done helping.”

He looked at you with pleading eyes, tears started to pool around them. “What’s her name? She’s big now and she plays soccer too.” He sounded desperate but you didn't pay attention.

“Let me make this clear, Haechan. We don't want anything to do with you so you better stay the fuck away from us.”

“Please y/n.” For the first time in your life, you saw him cry but you felt nothing.

“Y/N let's go! Dasom won't stop crying!” You heard Jeno call you from the car and you ran up to them. The car ride was quiet other than Dasom’s whimpering. Jeno noticed a black motorcycle following and he instantly knew who it was.

“I think we have company.” Jeno hinted and looked at you through his rearview mirror. You snapped your head to see and he’s right, Haechan is following closely behind.

The nurses checked your daughter’s feet immediately and confirmed that she indeed sprained her ankle and needed to wear a cast for two weeks. You and Jeno are standing side by side and Haechan is standing by the door, keeping away from everyone’s way. You wanted to ask him to leave but you didn't want to create a commotion when your daughter's present. When the doctor and nurses left, you sat on your daughter's bed and kissed her forehead. “You're so brave, baby. I'm proud of you.”

“Am I brave uncle Jeno?” She asked, Jeno walked closer to you and rested his hands on your shoulder then gave Dasom a high five. “You are! You really are a big girl now.” He complimented which made her giggle.

Her giggles stopped when she saw Haechan by the door, looking at her with a sad smile on his face. “Who’s he, mama?” You gave Haechan a glare. He cleared his throat and stood taller, “I'm just your mama’s old friend.”

“But you don't look old?” Haechan laughed but tears are streaming down his face. Jeno quickly took your daughter's attention as you approached Haechan and pulled him away from your daughter's room.

“What's your deal Haechan? What do you want?” You asked in gritted teeth.

“I'm sorry. I have been thinking about her for 3 years and this is the first time my daughter ever talked to me.” He shared it with you with a smile on his face.

“She is not your daughter. She's never been and never will be.” Your voice is filled with venom and he understands that.

“The last thing that I want is to ruin your lives. I don't want to cause any trouble with you and your boyfriend, I just want to be in my— your daughter's life.” He tried reaching for your hands but you avoided his touch.

“And the last thing that I want is for you to show up and demand to be in my daughter's life!”

“Y/n, I was stupid. I was young. I had a bright future in soccer and colleges are wanting me to play for them. I was scared and I thought it would ruin my dreams. I was selfish and a jerk, and I truly regret everything I did to you. I have never stopped thinking about our daughter since the day I left you at that gasoline station. I know I deserve nothing from you, but I'm begging you. I’m here for her now. I'm done making mistakes, I just want to set things right.”

Haechan is on the floor of the hospital halls, kneeling in front of you, begging for forgiveness, begging for a second chance to be in your daughter's life. Little did you know Jeno is on the other side of the door, listening to the conversation you were having with Haechan. He couldn't help but get frightened, threatened even. He never thought of your ex coming back to your lives and the thought of Haechan taking you and your daughter from him scared the soul out of him.

He took one look at Dasom and his worries eased up a bit. He walked to her and sat on her bed. “I need you to remember that Uncle Jeno loves you so much. Hm?”

Dasom looked at him confused but hugged him nevertheless and replied, “I love you so much too, Uncle Jeno.” Jeno closed his eyes and savoured every word she said.

Nobody knows the way that I know her, said Nobody knows the weight that's on her shoulders, said Nobody knows the way that I know her, said She got it bad, she got it bad

Jeno is driving you and Dasom back to your apartment. You kept quiet and so did he. He wanted to ask you so many questions but he refrained from doing it. When you arrived, you carried your daughter from the backseat to her bedroom and thanked Jeno for staying with you in the hospital.

“Are you alright?” He asked. Suddenly you felt the weight of your problems on your shoulders. Without thinking twice, Jeno pulled you in an embrace and let you cry on his shoulder.

“I don't know what to do, Jeno. Haechan doesn't deserve shit, but my daughter, what about my daughter? Maybe now she’s not asking about her father but what am I going to say to her when she starts asking? That I pushed his father away from her life? What if he takes her away from me?”

Jeno tried so hard to stay neutral and give you rational advice, not letting his emotions take the best of him.

“You have to see if Haechan is willing to stick this time. Dasom does not deserve to be left by his dad once, let alone twice. And it's totally up to you if you're going to introduce Haechan as her father or just someone you know. You have the full custody of Dasom and no one’s going to take her away from you.”

His words surely did give you comfort. Both of you stayed in that position as you slowly fell asleep with Jeno on your couch that night.

The smell of bacon woke you up from your sleep, half awake you bolted to the kitchen to check if something’s burning. Your heart melted at the sight of Jeno cooking breakfast with your daughter wearing an oversized apron while sitting on a stool.

“Mama likes bacon with eggs!” Dasom exclaimed.

“Shh we have to keep real quiet so your mama can get more sleep,” Jeno whispered, making your daughter laugh.

If this is the sight you're going to wake up to every day, then there's nothing else you could wish for. Then it hit you. Dasom never asked about his father because Jeno has been filling up that empty role in her life.

You have never been happier since you've given Jeno a chance to prove his love for you. Today you decided that it's your turn to give back his undying love. Quietly, you sneaked from behind. Your daughter caught you and you immediately put your finger on your mouth, signalling her to stay quiet. Gently, you wrapped your arms around his torso and peeked under his arm.

“Good morning.” You greeted him with a smile.

He lowered the heat of the stove before pulling you to his front to hug you properly. “A good morning indeed.”

“Mama stop hugging Uncle Jeno! He’s cooking us breakfast!” Your daughter whined.

“He can still cook while I'm hugging my boyfriend.” You smiled at her, knowing too well that she didn't understand it. Unfortunately, Jeno did not quite get it too.

“Your mama’s right. I can still cook while she's hugging her boy… wha-what?”

“Wha wha wha what?” You imitated him showing him the biggest smile.

“What did you just say?” His smile is even bigger than yours, eyes disappearing completely.

“You heard me.” You said and buried your head on his chest, hugging him tightly.

“She said her boyfriend, Uncle Jeno,” Dasom repeated you for him.

Jeno loosen your hug to pick up your daughter from the stool. “She did say that right? But I never agreed to that didn't I?”

“Oh is that how it is?” You answered laughing.

He quickly pulled you into a hug together with your daughter. “I love you.” He whispered in your ear with a smile.

“I know. I love you too.” You whispered back.

~

It's Sunday afternoon, you don't have to get to work and Jeno’s over your apartment spending time with you. Dasom is taking her nap in her bedroom and you thought this is the best time to address what happened last week at the hospital.

After that hospital trip, Haechan keeps on trying to get back to her daughter's life and honestly, you have no idea what to do. He promised to give you time to think and would do everything to gain your trust back.

“Babe?” You called him, his eyes never left from the movie. You shifted on your seat to look at him. “Can I talk to you about Haechan?” Suddenly, you got his full undivided attention. He turned the TV off and sat properly. Jeno couldn't help but feel threatened by Haechan’s unexpected reappearance in your lives. Sure, he's your boyfriend now but you were Haechan's first, and the daughter that Jeno loves dearly, is also his.

“What about him?”

“I don't want to keep any secrets from you and I want to tell you that I'm thinking of letting Haechan into Dasom's life.”

Jeno was quiet for a minute, carefully thinking over what to say. “You're going to introduce him as what?”

“I don't know yet. I'm going to see how she's going to react around him first.” Jeno looked down at his fingers. You saw how worried his eyes are and you could only imagine what goes on in his head. “Hey, babe. What are you thinking? Talk to me.”

“I'm just scared he’s going to take Dasom away from me. I know he’s the father and I'm just the fun uncle. But I love her like my own and it's going to wreck me when she starts calling him dad.”

You embraced Jeno, you didn't know he’s been thinking that way and it broke your heart. You have been thinking of Dasom a lot that you forgot that Jeno is affected too. “Babe, you're always going to be Dasom’s first love and she's going to love you for a long, long time. Do you want to know what she asked me before we started dating?” He nodded. “She told me that she wishes she's your daughter so you don't have to lie at the mall.”

Soon enough Jeno's crying on your shoulder. His heart clenched at your daughter's wish and he couldn't express how much he wishes the same.

“I understand you're scared that she's going to forget you, but that's not our Dasom. She has to know about Haechan, but that doesn't mean she's going to love you less.”

A sound of a door creaking halted Jeno from crying. Your daughter’s awake and is standing by the door, looking at Jeno confused. “Come here, baby,” Jeno called her and sat her on his lap. “Did you sleep well?”

“Were you crying?” She asked him and it made you laugh.

“It's because I missed you too much. You slept too long.”

Dasom hugged Jeno and rested her head on the crook of his neck. “I'm still sleepy but I'll just sleep here with you.”

“Never leave me okay?”

“Okay.” Dasom sleepily replied, making Jeno cry again. Quietly this time.

Nobody knows the way that I know her, said Nobody knows the weight that's on her shoulders, said Nobody knows the way that I know her, said She got it bad, she got it bad

That same night you dropped Dasom at your sister’s place to meet Haechan with Jeno. You arrived at the coffee shop and saw Haechan waiting for both of you. You saw his soul leave his body every time someone came in. Jeno held your hand to ease your nerves. Haechan stood up as soon as he saw you and politely gestured for both of you to sit down. His mouth opened a couple of times and looked like he was going to ask something. To your disappointment, you understood what he wanted to know. “I left her with my sister. She should be sleeping by now.” You calmly said.

He smiled, “Ahh. You're right. She should sleep more so she can grow taller.” He absentmindedly said.

“Haechan, this is Jeno, my boyfriend. Jeno, you already know Haechan.” Jeno offered his hand and Haechan enthusiastically took it. “I'm going to be straightforward with you. I don't like Dasom to know about you."

Haechan looked down with a sad smile. “I understand that and I couldn't blame you at all.”

“But Dasom deserves to know about you,” Jeno added, which made Haechan glance up.

“You're letting me see her?” He asked, eyes switching between you and Jeno.

You took a deep breath and you felt Jeno’s hand on your thigh. He really knows how to calm you down. “Yes, but you're not telling her anything yet and she’ll never be left alone with you.”

Haechan stood up and bowed deeply to both of you before sitting back down again, “It's more than I deserve, thank you y/n. And thank you Jeno for being there for her when I'm not.”

“I'll always be there for her even now when you're here,” Jeno replied genuinely.

The latter smiled, “Then I'm eternally grateful.”

And I don't care what they say about you baby They don't know what you've been through

Jeno has been very supportive of the decisions you made. Both of you met with Haechan a few times more before finally letting Dasom meet Haechan. You let Haechan plan everything and he was very eager to talk to you about it, he even asked Jeno to help him find a gift for his daughter and the other willingly helped.

Slowly, Jeno's fear of losing the two of you disappeared. He's just happy for Dasom to have another father figure in her life. You on the other hand are losing your shit for every day that passes by. Unable to think properly, fear and worry overshadow you. What if's are flooding your head. What if Haechan realizes he's still not ready for fatherhood? Should you introduce him as your friend first? What if he's planning on taking custody of your daughter?

You know most of it are just funny thoughts and he made it clear to you that he doesn't have any hidden agenda, but he showed intentions of helping you raise your daughter financially, you refused. Later you found out that he opened a savings account for Dasom’s college fund three years ago and has been putting money there continuously. That's when you started believing that Haechan is finally living up to his words and you cannot help but feel happy for your daughter.

“Hey, babe. Everything’s going to be fine.” Jeno stole a glance from you while you wait for Haechan at the parking lot of an amusement park.

“What's taking him so long?” You whispered harshly not wanting your daughter to hear you.

Jeno chuckled, “Babe we’re 15 minutes early and we literally just arrived.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and gave you a kiss on your cheek. “Calm down okay?”

“Are we not leaving the car, Uncle Jeno?” Your daughter asked from the back seat.

“We are, baby. We're just waiting for a friend.”

“I hope he won't take long.” She pouted and crossed her arms on her chest.

Jeno laughed, throwing his head back. “You really are your mother's daughter.”

Exactly 15 minutes later you received a call from Haechan that he’s at the ticketing booth all ready and waiting for the three of you. Haechan really stood out from the crowd not because of his good looks, but because of the bright pink shirt with a print of a cartoon pig he’s wearing. He keeps shifting his weight between his feet and his eyes are filtering the crowds, looking for three particular familiar faces.

“We’ve been waiting for you for 15 minutes Haechan.” You said in gritted teeth and went past him with your daughter in hand to get your own tickets.

“I'm actually an hour early, I was just waiting in the car. I don't want to text you guys that I'm already here because that may sound like I'm being impatient and I thought it might be hard to prepare with a toddler so I didn't want to make you feel like I'm rushing you guys.” Haechan rambled to Jeno.

Jeno chuckled, giving him a tap on his shoulder, “You're okay. She’s just worried, that's all.”

Haechan thanked him, Jeno’s words somehow made him feel a little better. Of course, he didn't expect other treatment from you other than pissed and he understands that. He’s just over the moon that he’s finally going to spend time with his daughter.

“Also, nice shirt. Dasom will love it.” Jeno added teasingly to Haechan before following you and Dasom to the entrance gate.

“Thanks, man. It’s custom made.” He replied wiggling his eyebrows playfully, making them both laugh.

~

It's been almost 30 minutes and you still haven't given Haechan a chance to bond with your daughter. You thought you were preparing her but the reality is, you're preparing yourself. This is a big change in her life and you’ve been having a last-minute crisis.

You were left with Haechan while watching Dasom ride a mini roller coaster with Jeno. The silence isn't awkward, but you felt him getting uneasy beside you. “Just say it, Lee.” You blurted.

“I'm sorry. I just really want to ride a roller coaster with her too.”

You took a deep sigh, “Haechan, come. Let's sit.” You sat down on the nearby picnic table and waited for him to follow you. “After that ride, we're going to tell her about you. I want her to spend this day with you knowing that she’s making a bond with her father, not just one of her mama’s friends. I want you to understand how big this day would impact a 3-year-old’s life. I need you to try your best to cooperate with me and let's try our best to make the situation less difficult for her to understand, okay?”

“Yeah sure okay what do you want me to do?”

“Didn’t I tell you just now? Are you not listening or are you not being serious at all?”

“No, I'm sorry. I'm serious. I just want to know what exactly you want me to do.”

“Try not to speak while I'm explaining things to her, but stay attentive. Watch how she reacts and be mindful. I don't want to give her a shock, it could traumatize her.”

“Traumatized.” He repeated absentmindedly, “We don't want that.”

You nodded, “Exactly.”

“Okay. All ears, hold off the tongue. Got it.” He answered smiling, probably trying to assure you something, but it definitely did not look like that. You only looked at him with desperation when you heard your daughter running to you and Jeno walking behind her.

“I want to ride it again!” Dasom exclaimed as she helped herself get seated beside you.

“Yes baby, you're going to ride it again but mama has to talk to you first. Is that okay?” You asked her and she looked at you confused but nodded nevertheless. You glance up to Jeno and he gave you a nod and mouthed 'It's going to be okay’

For the past weeks you have been practicing how to tell her that his father wants to meet her, but everything you've gone over in your head went down the drain now that you're in this moment.

“Baby, are you not wondering about your father?” You started.

“You mean uncle Jeno?” She asked that took you back. First, you look at Haechan who gave you a sad smile, then to your boyfriend who looked at you with concern.

Jeno walked to you and sat behind you. “I’m really happy that you see me as your father and I love you like my own. But you already had a daddy way before I came, even before you were born.”

“I had one?” She asked so innocently that all three of you moved to tears, especially Haechan, who's trying so hard not to make a noise, muffling his cries with both of his hands.

You sniffed, “Yes baby. You're so special that you have two! You have uncle Jeno,” You gestured to your back where Jeno is seated and he high-fived her. “and Haechan right behind you.” You pointed to her back where Haechan was at. His face is soaked with tears.

“Hi, Dasom. How are you?” He barely finished his sentence with all the crying he did. You know your daughter is not the kid who will get mad at someone and you didn't really expect her to fully understand the situation given her age, but you were so surprised when she hugged Haechan like she knew him for a long time.

“Where have you been?” She asked her cupping his face with her tiny hands. Haechan cried even harder, you had to smack your boyfriend when he couldn't hold off his laughter despite having his eyes pooled with his own tears.

“I'm sorry, I-i just. A-actually...” It was difficult for Haechan to explain the weight of what he did and he certainly doesn't have the intention of lying about the gravity of his mistakes, but he’s also unsure if it's the right time to tell her the full story. He looked at you with pleading eyes, begging for help. You cleared your throat and wiped your cheeks quickly before answering your daughter.

“Baby, he was not here because he went to a faraway place. Then he got lost on the way back, that's why he was gone for a long time.” You explained.

“But we're glad that he’s here now aren't we?” Jeno added making your daughter smile and nod before hugging Haechan once more.

Never have you expected this to be this easy, but finally, your heart is at ease. You’re aware that there would be serious questions she’s going to ask as he grows older, but for now, you enjoyed the sight of your daughter in the arms of her father.

It's already dinner time when you convinced the three of them to leave the amusement park. It's hard to raise a daughter and even harder when two other people are spoiling her.

“Mama, if Uncle Jeno is my dad and Uncle Haechan is also my dad, do I call them both daddy?” Your daughter asked quite loudly, gaining judging looks from the people in the restaurant.

Haechan noticed the stares and hushed murmurs around you. “Take a video so you can watch it again later.” He called out.

“There's an issue when there's no father. Still an issue with two fathers. Can't really please people these days.” Jeno added.

“Please do not engage with them in front of the young one.” You whispered smiling but your eyes were wide enough to make them stop. “Baby, you can call them both daddy if you like.” You answered.

“How about you call Uncle Jeno, papa. Just like how you call your mama, mama.” Haechan suggested.

“I like that. Is that okay with you?” Jeno asked your daughter.

Dasom nodded shyly. “Yes, papa.” And it's Jeno’s turn to cry this time.

Trust me, I could be the one to treat you like a lady Let me see what's underneath, all I need is you

It's been 4 years since you hit rock bottom and your life has always been going great if not the best.

Your daughter’s family got bigger, Dasom finally had a cousin. Your sister and Taeil gave birth to a baby girl just a few months back and they wanted you to be her godmother. Dasom was also introduced to her grandparents for the first time. At first, you were skeptical, but you grew up with your grandmother and you wanted your daughter to create memories with her own grandparents. Haechan’s parents were very apologetic for what their son did, but you told them that it's now all in the past and that he's already forgiven.

Soon enough Haechan found himself a very sweet and kind girlfriend who clicked well with your daughter quite quickly. Sometimes, Dasom would even request for you to go out on a date with Jeno so she could spend the night at Haechan’s place and they were as excited as your daughter to have her over.

Speaking of Jeno, he finally graduated from business school and is preparing to take over his father’s company. You're very excited to finally see him at work every day. You thought you were going to have a problem working with Jeno, but you're glad that both of you were able to keep a professional relationship during work. However, Jeno promised you that he would always find time to eat lunch with you whether you're sharing a packed lunch in his office or in a fancy restaurant 30 minutes away from your workplace.

But today is the first time he’s breaking that promise.

“I'm really sorry babe. It's an important lunch meeting and I cannot miss it.” He explained over the phone, which he already did 10 minutes ago and 5 times more in texts.

You laughed, “Babe I already told you for the nth time that it's fine. I don't mind!”

He sighed, “But you're going to eat alone.” You could swear that you heard him pouting right now.

“I'm going to be alright. If you're so worried about me, I could just facetime Dasom."

“But she's at school babe.” He reminded you. You almost slapped your forehead.

“You're right. Just don't worry about me, I’m sure I can eat just fine. Uhm, hey can we talk later? I'm sorry but I'm quite packed right now.” You bid your goodbye and ended the call and went straight to work.

Little did you know Jeno was never in a business meeting, your daughter never went to school and he purposely gave you a ton of paperwork to do so he can execute his plan properly.

You finished your mountain of work later than usual. You normally leave work at 6 PM and you looked at your wrist to check if it's really two hours past that already. Jeno never came back from his business meeting and you immediately felt your chest tightened in worry. Immediately, you dialled his number but it only rang a few times and went to voicemail after. You were going to give him another call when Haechan’s name popped up on your screen.

“Hey y/n how ar-”

“Sorry I can't talk right now, Jeno left for lunch and he hasn't come back yet he's not even answering my call.”

“Calm down. I know where he is.” He said on the other line. You were confused as to why would Haechan know where your boyfriend was but he didn't let you voice out your question, “Meet us at the small bakeshop at the corner of 6th street and 10th avenue.”

You were going to speak but he hung up on you. That little shit. You instantly ran out of the building and took a cab. It's a 20-minute drive from your workplace to that bakeshop, but it only took the cab driver 10 minutes to bring you there when you offered to triple the amount you're going to pay him if he gets you there quickly. The neighbourhood is quiet and the bakeshop is relatively dark inside. You wondered if you're in the right place, Haechan can't be messing with you can he?

And I don't care what they say about you baby They don't know what you've been through Trust me, I could be the one to treat you like a lady Let me see what's underneath, all I need is you

You gently pushed the door open and the lights on the floor leading to the patio of the store slowly lit up. A small woven basket is by the door and has a note telling you to bring it with you. Your heart is beating violently, your head is making assumptions of what's happening but you pushed it all aside and followed the trail of light.

You saw Haechan and his girlfriend at the beginning of the trail handing you a bag of cookies, you took it and put it in your basket after thanking them. Haechan winked at you and both of them gave you a heartfelt smile. You walked a little further and there your sister and Taeil were also holding out a bag of cookies with their daughter in her arms. As you walked further you meet important people in your life and they give you the same bag of cookies.

At the very end of the trail, you saw your daughter smiling at you also holding a bag of cookies, “Hi mama.” She greeted you.

“Hi, baby.” You replied, holding back your tears.

You felt someone tapped your shoulder and when you looked behind, the whole bakeshop lit up, and right in front of you stood the man you love. Tears are evident in his eyes, but joy defeats them. He held both of your hands,

“You were my very first friend and the only girl I've ever loved. Because of these cookies, I got to know the most beautiful girl I've ever had the chance to see. You told me I was the reason why you're living your second life, but you, you and Dasom gave me a meaningful one. I never thought I am capable of loving someone this much and it surprises me how much more I fall for you every day. I love you both so much that each passing day scares me that I might lose one of you, and today I'm going to make sure we're staying together for the rest of our lives.”

Jeno knelt down on one knee in front of you and took a red velvet box from his back pocket and opened it, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.

“Y/N, you are the reason for my happiness and the woman behind the man that I am today. I am lucky enough to be your boyfriend, can I be as lucky to be your husband?”

Hot tears are staining your cheeks, you couldn't even see him clearly. But in your heart, the answer is as clear as the night sky. You knelt down on both of your knees and hugged him tightly, digging your face on the crook of his neck. “Yes, Jeno. Yes.” You answered.

Everybody screamed and cheered. You pulled away so he could slip the ring on your finger and kissed you, both of you still kneeling on the floor. He rested his forehead on yours.

“I never cared what they said about you, none of them know what you’ve been through.” He whispered.

“All I need is you.” You mumbled before kissing him again. “And my daughter of course.” You added.

“Our daughter.” Jeno corrected.

She got a bad reputation She takes the long way home

A/N: So this is the story that started the idea of making a Shawn Mendes playlist! I cannot believe I’m finally uploading my very first story today! Thank you to those who patiently waited and to you who finished reading this!! I feel like I have so much to say, but I literally cannot put my thoughts into words. Thank you again!!

Next Story: Qian Kun | Crazy

Holy Mary

pairings: jeno x reader

genre: romance, summer romance, churchboy!jeno (kind of), pining, fluff, angst

tw: sexual content, mentions of depression, religious trauma

word count: 13.5k

synopsis: you spend every summer at your grandparents lake side home in France. Most of the time you spend in the lake, painting or reading. The village is slow and life feels very relaxed. When a new priest turns up at the local church, your grandmother manages to convince you to attend a service which ends in you becoming infatuated with one of the priests sons, Lee Jeno. Jeno is a reserved man, he likes calm and quiet. His past trauma has effected his ability to maintain friendships and relationships. But when he meets you, he feels at home.

authors notes: this was inspired by Mary on a cross by Ghost! i also like to project my daddy issues and religious trauma onto people so enjoy! also! the south of france *chefs kiss* beautiful place, i want to go back so badly! and i recently learnt that catholic priests can remain married if they’re married before becoming ordained so that’s cool ig, it kinda inspired this story a little bit. ALSO! i would just like to clarify that this is just a story and i don’t share any of the opinions of the characters in the story. nor do i think jeno has any of these opinions. ITS JUST A STORY <3 also i can’t write smut to save my life but here u go

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

Most of your summers were spent by the lakes, at your grandparents lake house in France. The effervescent water sparkled under the sun, little ripples forming when the wind gently blew. The lakes had always fascinated you. You weren’t sure if it was the calmness being near water brought you or the memories of splashing around in them when you were a child, but you always felt very close to them.

You spent most of your summers painting too, mostly by the lake. Your grandmother tried to encourage you to sell your paintings, claiming that they ‘conveyed so much passion and emotion.’ You didn’t agree, you just wanted to paint. Today was no different, you sat by the lake and sketched out the lay of the land, preparing for your next painting. You watched your brothers splash around in the water with some other boys from the village. You could see the pure joy in their faces and made a mental note to try and capture that in your painting.

It wasn’t long before the midday sun became unbearable. You could feel it scorching your skin despite the thick layers of SPF your grandmother had lathered you and your siblings in. You decided it was probably best for you to go in for a while and get out of the sun. Your brothers were probably hungry too, with it being midday. You shouted over to them, both their heads turning as you beckoned them over and told them it was time to go in for some lunch. You began to collect all your belongings and head up to the house.

“There’s a new priest starting at the church this Sunday. I’d like it if you came this week, it would make a good first impression.” Your grandmother spoke up as you helped her set the table. You glanced over at the lake as you placed another fork down. “Really?” You mumbled, not really listening. “Yes, it would be good for you to get back in touch with your religion. Your mother tells me you don’t attend church back at home either.” Your grandparents were very religious, and they expected the same from their grandchildren. The reference to home made you feel sad for a moment. Although you loved coming to the lakes to see your grandparents, you missed your home. Your grandparents had moved to the south of France from Denmark when you were very young. You missed them dearly but they wanted a change and to have a much more relaxed and laid back life. Southern France did make for good vacations however.

“Oliver and Kaspar have been attending. They’ve been enjoying it, there’s lots of other young people there too. It’s be a good chance to make some friends for the summer.” Your grandfather had made an appearance at the table, your brothers following behind him. “I’ll think about it.” You said as you headed back inside to get the rest of the food. You could imagine your grandparents both shaking their heads. Religion had always been a touchy subject for you. You’d grown up being taught Catholicism and attended church every week with your parents back in Denmark. When you reached your teenage years, things began to change. You had many questions about religion and why things were so rigid. It made you uncomfortable. You stopped attending a short while after your thirteenth birthday.

There were some things that never changed however. You still wore your crucifix around your neck, it was a gift from your father at your first Holy communion. You found you could never take it off even if you wanted to. It felt as if it was welded into your skin and you felt bare without it. It was probably because it was from your father that you didn’t want to take it off. Your father had suffered with debilitating depression since you were ten after the loss of his brother. It had become hard for your mother to take care of you and your brothers. It was then that the yearly tradition of vacationing in France began. You and your brothers were shipped off to your grandparents every summer for 3 months so your mother could have a break from it all. You never really minded, you enjoyed being by the lakes.

Your grandparents house looked over the largest lake in the village. It was surrounded with beautiful native pine trees and small villas that blended in with the scenery seamlessly. After your meal you helped your siblings clear up and wash the dishes, still watching over the lake as you did so. You wanted to go back out there and continue your painting but the blazing sun said otherwise. You decided to take a nap instead and enjoy your break.

You found yourself attending church that Sunday. Your grandparents had finally worn you down, insisting that it would make you feel better and you’d make some friends. That it would even help you with your art work. You were exhausted of their constant nagging so in the end you just gave in. You were curious too, as to who this new priest was and why he was so special. Your grandmother had been talking about him non stop all week. How he’d come over from South Korea and he could apparently speak seven languages, including French of course.

When you arrived at the church that morning the sun had already began to beat down on you. You could feel the sweat dripping from your hair and down your neck. It didn’t help that you were already desperately uncomfortable walking into a place that made you feel like an outsider. Like you were a freak for thinking differently to everyone else inside, even though their rules were so rigid and based on a book written so long ago. However you were now sat on a pew, sandwiched between your older brother Kaspar and your grandmother. You couldn’t see much from where you were sitting, other than a large statue of the Virgin Mary that almost touched the ceiling at the front of the church. You couldn’t help think she looked sad. You wondered how long she’d stood there at the bow of the church. How many services she’d sat through and what she thought of them. Your attention was snatched from her when your grandmother touched your leg and indicated that the new priest had started his service.

The priest was tall, handsome and well spoken. He spoke mostly in French which you struggled to understand but sometimes switched to English. The service felt as if it went on forever. You were so hot and sweaty as the end neared, you couldn’t wait to get out and breath some fresh air. Many people got up to go and meet the new priest at the end of the service, your grandparents were included in that group. They waited in line for their turn to meet this, person. That’s all he was. You wondered why they were so excited. Your grandparents dragged you up too, along with your brothers and as you neared the front you noticed two equally as tall and handsome men stood next to him. They were younger, and you thought they may be his sons. You could feel yourself getting hotter and hotter as you moved closer. The one you deemed to be the youngest had the coldest and most attractive face you’d ever seen. Your face flushed red as you got closer.

“Thank you so much for coming.” The priest spoke as you got to the front. He shook your grandparents and brothers hands before getting to you. You were still so dazed by his son that you didn’t realise the priests hand stretched out to shake yours. Your grandmother nudged you and you quickly shook his hand. “These are my sons, Donghae,” he pointed to the oldest one, “and Jeno.” You could feel your throat close up as Jeno looked you up and down. A small smirk adorning his lips. Your grandfather finished the conversation and you were on your way again. Jeno’s face had become engrained in your mind. He was all you could think about on the drive back to the house and all you could think about when you went to bed that night.

When the following Sunday rolled around, you were the first one out of bed and ready to go. Your grandmother was surprised but extremely happy, thinking that you’d reconnected with your faith. But in reality you just wanted to see Jeno again. To look at his breathtaking face. You sat closer to the front on this day, making sure you could get a glimpse of the intimidating get enticing boy. You could feel yourself turning red when he turned around. You could feel his cold eyes burning deep into your soul. Maybe this was religion, you thought. Maybe he was God.

When the service ended, Jeno was the first one standing up, ready to leave. You quickly stood up too, racing out the pews to try and talk to him. Maybe to ask if he needs any help adjusting to the village. You did only live ten minutes from the church and you were always around if he needed anything. Your heart was crushed however when several other young girls surrounded him, trying to get his attention. Disheartened, you followed your family out of the church. Kaspar, your older brother had immediately realised what you wanted to do when you stood up. He knew last week from the way you looked at Jeno that you were interested in him. On your way out of the church he nudged you, “You like him, hey?” He teased, “What? No, he’s probably really conservative. He’s a priests son.” You nudged him back. You had experience with boys back home, you’d even briefly had a boyfriend. You never shied away from male attention, in fact, you welcomed it. You did well with the boys back in your home town and got bored here in France where there was barely any boys your age, and if there were, none of them interested you. This is probably why Jeno excited you so much. He was the first attractive boy you’d seen here in France.

“Really? Your face turned into a tomato as soon as he looked at you, tomat ansigt.” You shuddered at the nickname. Your mother had given it to you as a child when your face would turn as red as a tomato whenever you were embarrassed. “Don’t call me that mærkelig dreng.” You hit his shoulder earning a harsh glance from your grandmother as you got back into the car.

“I need some things from the market. Could you take Oliver down there and get everything on this list please?” Your grandmother asked you as she wondered into the living room where you sat on the old worn out leather couch, reading your book. She handed you the list as you reached your arm out. “Why do we need all this stuff?” You we’re inquisitive as to why there were so many items on the list, and good stuff too, like cake and ice cream. “Father Lee, the priest is coming tonight for dinner. Monsieur Clement and his wife and daughters and coming too. Make sure you get everything on the list please.” She widened her eyes as she emphasised. You called for Oliver and headed out to the market.

“I hate Monsieur Clement, he just talks about himself all the time.” Oliver whined as you headed into the grocery shop to finish your shopping. “I know Oli. Mormor said that his daughters are coming too. Maybe they’ll be your age.” He shrugged at your comment and picked up the next thing on your list. You doubted that though, Monsieur Clement was a retired business man in his early sixties. He had a substantial amount of money from what you could tell and he’d been living next to your grandparents for the past three years. You’d never met his daughters but part of you doubted that they’d be Oliver’s age. Probably more like yourself and Kaspar’s age, in their early twenties.

Your parents had had yourself and Kaspar when they were young and Oliver was a surprise slightly later in life. You and Kaspar had been so excited to have a little brother and you both absolutely adore him and constantly dote over him. Especially now with your dad practically out of the picture and your mother focused on caring for him and working too, you and Kaspar tried your hardest to make Oliver’s childhood a good one. Oliver was now eleven, you twenty and Kaspar twenty three but things hadn’t changed much from when you were young. You were a very close knit trio.

Your mind wondered back to the list and to the dinner, you were too focused on the fact that Monsieur Clement was attending to remember the fact that Father Lee, Jeno’s father may was attending too. You wondered if Jeno and his brother would be coming. You hoped they were. Maybe you’d finally get to talk to him. You and Oliver had finished up your shopping and began your walk home. It was sweltering outside. You’d gotten used to the cold air in the grocery shop and stepping outside felt like stepping into a furnace. Your eyes stopped on 2 figures outside the local Café. You recognised them to be Jeno and his brother. You watched them for a second. Jeno had a cigarette in one hand and his coffee in the other. Maybe he’s not so conservative if he smokes, you thought. Or maybe not, you don’t know him. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Oliver shouts your name. He’s already half way down the street, waiting for you. Jeno and Donghae look up to see what the shouting is about and notice you. It’s quite obvious that you were looking at them from your position and stance. You flush red when you see that Jeno is staring at you, his face still cold and stern. You spin on your feet in embarrassment and quickly follow Oliver back home.

“Are Father Lee’s sons coming tonight?” Kaspar asks your grandmother whilst helping her with the cooking. You’re sitting on a chair in the kitchen, peeling some vegetables. You look up to see Kaspar smirking at you. “You hope so, don’t you.” He carries on, pointing at you. You roll your eyes when your grandmother looks at you and shakes her head. Your grandmother doesn’t answer but you realise they probably are when there are quite a few places set at the table.

When your guests finally arrive you notice the absence of the one person you really wanted to see. Kaspar notices your dissatisfaction and pats you on the back. “Don’t worry, Father Lee said he’d be here soon. He’s just finishing up something at home.” You breathed a sigh of relief but were annoyed at your brother for noticing and reading your facial expressions so easily. Monsieur Clement’s daughters were like goddesses. They were a similar age to Kaspar and yourself much to Oliver’s dismay. Kaspar wasn’t wasting time introducing himself however. You rolled your eyes at him and poked him in the side every time he faked a laugh at something one of the daughters said or when he over exaggerated something that happened to him as a child for effect.

You were still waiting for Jeno when you’d finished eating. Your grandmother was about to bring out dessert and you were helping her tidy the table. Whilst in the kitchen you heard a commotion outside and realised Jeno had turned up. His father seemed very pleased to see him, maybe thinking he wouldn’t turn up at all. You rushed into the bathroom and tidied up your appearance, brushing your hair off of your face and smoothing out your dress before stepping outside to greet Jeno. Monsieur Clement’s daughters had wasted no time in introducing themselves, clearly flirting with him. Jeno was very gracious in the way he spoke to them, soaking up their stupid comments. You took a seat next to Kaspar when your grandmother bought the dessert out. You stayed pretty quiet whilst the others chatted amongst themselves. “Jeno I realised I never introduced my grandchildren to you. This is Kaspar, my eldest grandson. My only and very beautiful granddaughter, and my youngest grandson.” Your grandmother pointed you all out as she spoke. Jeno looked at you up and down like he did in the church. It made your heart flutter. “What do you all do?” Father Lee asked. “I’ve just finished up university back in Denmark, I studied architecture.” Kaspar spoke, Father Lee nodded his head impressed. “What about you two?” You stayed silent for a second hoping Oliver would speak, Jeno didn’t take his eyes off you for a second making you feel desperately awkward. But Oliver didn’t speak, probably not knowing what to say in front of all these people. “I’m studying fine art at university. In my second year.” You managed to squeeze out. “Wow, are you enjoying it? I’d love to see some of your work.” Father Lee sounded surprised. “I’ve been painting lots over the summer, I have a few paintings inside.” You managed to string a proper sentence together as if you weren’t melting under the stare of the priests youngest son. “She’s really very good Father. I too have an interest in paintings,” Monsieur Clement started as if he has any idea about your painting ability but you realised it was just an opportunity for him to speak about himself. You were glad though.

The sun began to set and everyone was getting ready to leave. You watched as Jeno helped clear the table and your grandmother insisted he sit down and she was absolutely fine. You leaned over the railings of the balcony that looked over the lake. You didn’t realise Jeno approaching you. “It’s really very beautiful here. I didn’t realise it would be when my father told me about it.” You felt your soul leave your body. He was talking to you. You needed to say something. “It is. I love it here.” You just about managed to say. “I’d love to see some of your paintings if you’d let me. I’d assume this is a great place to get inspiration.” You tucked your hair behind your ear. He actually wanted to see your paintings. God, help. “There’s a couple upstairs, I’ll bring them down if you want. They’re not very good, they were only quick ones.” You nervously spoke. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

He followed you into the house, waiting in the living room, not wanting to follow you into your room. “They’re just of the lakes.” You bought down two. Those two were your grandmothers favourites. “These are really amazing. You’re so talented. I could only dream of being able to paint like this. Have you ever considered selling your work?” He sounded to passionate as he spoke, he was genuinely impressed with your skills. “My grandma keeps telling me too but I’m not sure.” You sit next to him as he holds one of the paintings, still looking at it in depth. “You should. You’re really good.” He places it down on the coffee table as his father peeks his head around the door. “Time to go Jen.” Jeno stands up and follows his father, not before stopping and turning around to look at you again. “It was really nice meeting you. I’ll see you around?” He asks, “Yeah of course. It’s a small village.” You giggle awkwardly. He gives you a small wave before disappearing with his dad.

It was a while before you saw Jeno again. He hadn’t attended his fathers services for the past couple of weeks and you couldn’t help but wonder where he’d gone. You’d even bumped into Donghae whilst at the Saturday market in the village. “Is Jeno okay? I haven’t seen him around much.” You couldn’t help but ask. His brother gave a small smile before replying, “He’s okay. Just doesn’t cope well in the heat. I’ll tell him you asked after him.” You felt like it wasn’t true but didn’t probe this man you didn’t really know for any more answers.

It was another scorching afternoon by the lake when you saw Jeno again. He was swimming in the lake with his brother, talking to your brothers as they swam too. When he noticed you he put up a hand and waved, you smiled back and waved too. After a while, Jeno came out of the lake and headed towards you, grabbing a towel from where he and his brother had left their belongings. “It’s beautiful.” He said when he reached you, gesturing to your painting. “Thanks, I’m nowhere near finished though.” You continued on and he took a seat on a rock next to you. You tried your best to concentrate on your work but the way the water droplets slid down his muscular shoulders had you extremely distracted. “What do you like about it here?” He suddenly asked, surprising you. “What isn’t there to like? It’s beautiful and quiet.” You found yourself looking directly at him now, watching the way his muscles flexed as he turned around to face you. “You don’t find it boring at all?” He squints his eyes in the sun. You shrug, “Not really. It’s quite different to home so it’s nice to escape.” You thought back to your home in Copenhagen. The busyness sort of made you cringe. You loved home but it was nice to get away from the bustling streets, especially in summer.

“What’s home like? I’ve never been to Denmark.” You wondered why he was talking to you, not that you weren’t grateful, this God like being was actually paying you attention so there wasn’t much to complain about. “I love Copenhagen. But it sometimes feels depressing,” You thought about your dad, “It’s really very beautiful though. You should visit sometime.” He nodded. “What about you? I’ve never been to South Korea either.” His eyes lit up when you mentioned his home country. “I desperately miss it. I like busy. I like loud and bright. For me, it feels like an escape. I can be myself there. Being stuck with my dad and brother and not knowing anyone, or the language. It’s hard.” He looked down, playing with a stone at his feet. “I get that. My french isn’t great.” He smiled up at you after you said that and then you both fell silent for a while. He watched as his brother and your brothers played in the water. Something about the water made everyone turn into a child again. That was one of the things you loved about it. You took this opportunity to get a better look at his body. He must work out, you thought. His body looked as if it was calved by angels. So sharp, yet soft. His beautiful tan skin still bestrewn with little water droplets glistening in the sun.

“Are you going in today?” He asked, gesturing to the lake. “I might do later. I want to get this painting finished soon.” You went back to your painting, pretending that that was what you were doing the whole time. “Come in now. It’ll be fun.” He stood up and began walking back into the lake, before turning round again. You assumed he was waiting for you. Not much could get you to stop getting in the lake on a normal day. Especially if there was a very beautiful man trying to get you to go in. When you got up you noticed the way Jeno checked you out. His eyes shuffling up and down your body, his tongue poking out the side of his lips. You followed him into the lake and you both swam towards your brothers.

“Hun er med!” Kaspar cheered. “Jeg er kold, jeg vil snart ud.” Oliver whined as he swam over to you, holding onto your shoulders. “Why are you speaking Danish?” It was unusual for your you and your siblings to speak in Danish when you where in France. You weren’t sure why, it had just always been that way. “Donghae wants to learn some Danish so we’re only speaking in Danish now.” Oliver swam past you, “og hvordan kan du være kold? Det er så varmt.” Oliver shrugged before splashing you with the water, you squealed, not ready for the water to touch your neck yet. Jeno hadn’t thought Danish could sound so beautiful until it came out of your mouth. He smiled at you as Oliver continued to splash the water at you, you splashed him back and before you knew it your grandmother was calling you from the house for dinner.

“Are you boys staying for dinner? We’d love to have you.” Your grandfather asked as you all walked onto the deck, soaking wet. “We wouldn’t want to impose.” Donghae spoke, he was very well spoken, like his father. “Nonsense! Stay!” Your grandmother said as she bought a serving dish of food out. “Thank you very much. This is too kind.” Jeno said as he took a seat, next to you. You smiled at him as you grabbed him a plate. “Don’t be silly. It’s nice to have you here for dinner again.” You said. He gave you a very warm smile back, before thanking you for the plate.

You enjoyed dinner. It was nice to get to talk to Jeno more. You learnt that Jeno was very popular at school, and he played soccer. You could guess that he was popular. He probably had girls dropping to their knees for him on a daily basis. Jeno now studied law at a prestigious university in Seoul and was very hard working, according to his brother. You could tell Donghae was extremely proud of Jeno. It was heartwarming. You also learnt that Jeno had three cats at home and that he missed them very much. You mention to him that there’s many strays here in France and that if he left food for them, they’d probably never leave him alone. He liked the idea of that. Despite being allergic to cats, which made everyone at the table laugh.

When dinner was done, both Jeno and Donghae stayed to help tidy up. Your grandmother was very impressed with their manners and said she would make sure to tell their father how respectful they were. You could see Jeno’s face scrunch up at the mention of his father. You wondered what it was about him that made Jeno do that. After cleaning up, Jeno and Donghae left and walked home to the cottage attached to the church. Not before thanking your grandparents profusely for the meal and for welcoming them into their home again. You really liked how polite they were to your grandparents. It made you a hundred times more attracted to Jeno.

Jeno had invited you to the lake this time. You couldn’t help but feel sick with excitement that he wanted to go swimming with you. He’d knocked on the door that evening desperate to see you. For some reason he couldn’t get you out of his head and he just wanted to be near you. You made him feel something he hadn’t felt before. Especially since arriving in France. “Nice bikini.” He said as you walked down to the lake together, your hands brushing past his every so often, making electricity spark through your nervous system. “Thanks.” You smiled up at him. He was referring to your old mismatched bikini you had pulled out of your bottom draw as quickly as you could when he came round. Your other much nicer ones were in the wash. You piled your towels on the shore and both walked in to the lake together. “This is nice.” You mumbled as you got deep enough to swim. The sun was setting over the two of you, making him look even more ethereal. He thought the same about you too. Your pretty little face lit up when he mentioned the cats again. He’d tried to feed them but none of them let him stroke them. “It’s okay there’s loads of friendly ones that come to my house in the evening. We’ll probably see them when we go back. Mormor likes to make sure they’ve had a good dinner.”

After he asked what a Mormor was you explained some more Danish words to him. He just liked to hear you talk, especially in your mother tongue. You asked him to teach you some Korean. He immediately taught you the swear words of course, making you gently slap his shoulder after he got you to say them without knowing what they meant. He liked the way your hands felt on his skin. They were so soft and kind. The sun had finally set over the two of you, bringing darkness. The lake at night was probably your favourite. You didn’t ever really get the opportunity to go in it at night as your brothers were usually too tired or playing games. Jeno loved the way your face caught the light from the moon. He thought you were more beautiful than ever. He really wanted to kiss you right now.

“Do you like going to church?” You suddenly ask him, making him snap out of his daze. “No, not really. I feel I’m obliged to because of my dad though.” You nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Me neither. My family are pretty religious. I never used to go but I was forced to when there was a new priest,” you referenced his dad, making his face scrunch up again, “But I wanted to go after I saw you there. Your face made it more bearable.” You giggled, his face lit up. “Really?” He moved closer towards you and you placed a hand at the back of his neck. “Yeah, you’re not bad looking you know.” You said softly, placing your other arm behind his neck and finally securing both your arms around him. He felt like he was in heaven. As did you.

“I’m surprised to see you wear a cross then.” He looked down at your necklace. “My dad gave it to me. It feels weird to take it off.” You said, sadness laced through your voice. He didn’t ask about your dad, it was probably a sore subject, he decided. “I wouldn’t even call myself religious at all. I never understood it, never liked it.” Jeno suddenly said, boldly. “Me too! It feels wrong to me.” Jeno nodded at your comment. He felt close to you at that moment. He’d never been able to share his thoughts on his so called religion with anyone else. He was scared they would judge him. He was glad he could confide in you. After all, you were pretty much his only friend in this quiet little village. “What do you think made you feel like that? For me, it was when my church back home in Denmark was preaching about how being gay was wrong, and how you shouldn’t have sex before marriage. It doesn’t make sense. It’s so wrong.” Your arms were still wrapped around Jeno’s neck securely. He’d never felt so safe with anyone else to talk about this sort of thing before so he used it as an opportunity to get some things off his chest.

“The church my dad used to run, back in Korea. It was filled with people who believe those things. And to hear my dad talk about them too. It made me feel ill. I have friends back home that were, in my dads words, sinners. He didn’t like me hanging out with them because they believed differently to him. I’m an adult I should be able to do what I want, see whoever I want. But he didn’t see it like that. That’s why we’re here. He wanted my brother an I to get away from the sins in our home town and start fresh. He was hoping we’d suddenly turn to Christ and be born again.” Jeno looked down at the thin strip of water between the two of you. “I’ll never forgive him for taking me away from everything I know. This place, it’s beautiful don’t get me wrong. But it’s not for me. It’s too slow.” You pulled yourself closer to him, your lips close, to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry. That sounds really shitty. I promise it’s not that bad here. We’ll go into the market if you want. Try and do some less boring things.” You proposed, “It’s not boring here with you.” He said, looking back into your eyes. The distance between your lips was minute. He wanted to badly to kiss you then and there as did you. “We could do this everyday if you wanted.” You whispered, “I’d like that.” And with that he pressed his lips to yours.

“What’s going on with you and Jeno? You were awfully pleased with yourself last night.” Kaspar asks as he walks into your room, disturbing your peace. “We’re just friends. It’s nice to hang out with someone other than your brothers you know.” You throw your book at him and stand up. You wondered what Jeno was doing right now. “Touché.” Kaspar said as he walked out. “Oh and Jeno is here by the way, thought I should let you know.” He poked his head round the door and grinned. You quickly ran downstairs behind him. “Hey! What are you doing here?” You asked intuitively. “Just thought I’d take you up on that offer of going to the market.” He shrugged. “Of course! Let me grab my bag.” You rushed back upstairs to grab your bag, fixing your hair in the bathroom mirror and headed back down.

“So how have you been?” He asks shyly. “You don’t have to be awkward with me just because we kissed.” You roll your eyes playfully at him before pushing him out the door. “Noted.” He grabbed your hand as you walked into the village. You looked down at your hands every so often as you passed different cottages and villas, fields full of lavender and smiled as Jeno squeezed your hands tighter. Even though you’d only known each other a few weeks, only spoken to each other a handful of times, it all felt right. “Hey can we go in here?” Jeno snapped you out of your thoughts and pointed towards a vintage store that seemed in the middle of nowhere, only surrounded by a few houses. “Sure, why not?”

The store was vintage alright. It definitely hadn’t been updated since the fifties. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust. Your eyes were drawn to the back section of the store, it had various different sunglasses and hats. You tried on a pair of sunglasses and turned to Jeno, “What do you think? Sexy?” They were large, pink heart shaped glasses that made you look ridiculous. “Oh definitely.” Jeno smirked, “you want them?” He asked, stepping towards you and pushing them down your nose slightly. You slowly leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips, “Of course, they make me look super sexy!” Jeno smiled and placed another kiss on your cheek, making you blush a deep shade of red of course.

You and Jeno tried on more wacky sunglasses before you noticed the shop keeper beginning to become annoyed with you both. “I think we should probably go.” Jeno gritted his teeth awkwardly as you headed towards the front of the shop. You placed the heart shaped sunglasses on the front desk and began to look through your back for your purse, but before you could, Jeno whipped out his wallet and placed a bill on the counter. “Don’t be silly, let me pay.” You tried to give the bill back to him as the shop owner rolled her eyes. “No. Let me get them.” The lady took the bill and you two headed out the store, with your sunglasses on.

You walked past the church on your way to the market. You could feel Jeno stiffen up at the sight of it. You gave his hand a squeeze and smiled up at him. “There’s another vintage store in town. Actually there’s only 3 stores, ones a vintage store and the other two are grocery stores.” You grinned up at him, knowing he probably would find it boring. He didn’t though, he just loved being with you.

After your wild shopping experience, you and Jeno found yourself sitting outside the village café, the one you had seen Jeno and his brother sitting at a few weeks prior. “I’ve had a really great time with you. Thanks for showing me the village.” Jeno reached over the table to grab your hands. “I know it’s probably been boring for you but I did try.” He held your hands slightly tighter, “I had a lovely time. I like spending time with you. And I like kissing you.” Your face broke out into a grin at the last sentence. “I like kissing you too.” You leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his lips. You did really like kissing him.

That evening Jeno had stayed for dinner again. You got the sense that he didn’t really have family dinners so it probably felt comforting to have them. You could relate to that. Your ‘family dinners’ at home were usually you sitting in your room working on a painting whilst picking at some cheese and crackers. They weren’t exactly dinners at all. Your mother didn’t really cook, she was always quite busy with work. And your dad, well, he had barely left the house in ten years and couldn’t really move from his bed or the couch so dinner wasn’t really a thing. Let alone a family dinner. That was probably part of the reason you loved being with your grandparents so much. They loved taking care of you all and making extravagant meals, making sure you had everything you needed. Your grandfather would always drive into the nearest town with you to get more painting supplies if you needed them and your grandmother would sew up a hole on your clothes if you needed. It felt very homely and comfortable.

“What were you two up to today then?” Your grandfather asked you and Jeno. “We walked into the village and went into some vintage shop. I got these sunglasses.” You flicked the sunglasses from your head to your nose. “I was wondering about those.” He chuckled and went back to his meal. “Kaspar took me to the lake on the other side of the village today and there was some other boys there and we jumped off the jetty into the lake a thousand times. It was really fun.” Oliver smiled as you leaned over to pinch his cheek. “I’m glad you had fun Oli.” He hummed a yes and put another mouthful of salad into his mouth.

“Jeno I’ve been meaning to ask, I’ve been wanting to set up a baking group for the other elderly people in the village and was wondering if we could use the church hall to host it.” Your grandmother asked as she placed her final dish on the table and sat down. Jeno shifted in his seat, “Uh yeah, you’d have to ask him but I’m sure it would be okay.” You placed a hand over his under the table and gave it a squeeze before you changed the subject. “Mormor this salad is amazing. Did you grow these tomatoes?”

Your room was quite simple but your grandparents had allowed you to decorate it however you wanted. You had some fairy lights wrapped around the bedroom and your grandfather had helped you put up some of your favourite art work on your walls. Jeno liked your room, it felt very much like you. It was the first time he’d been in it. He noticed a shelf full of books and a floral piggy bank with a note on top, ‘For London’ it said. He smiled and sat down on your bed next to you. “So what did you want to do?” Jeno could barely finish his sentence before you grabbed his face and kissed him. He leaned into the kiss and bought his hands to your waist. You pulled away for a second before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on the bed to lay beside you. He nuzzled his head into your neck and placed a few soft kisses on it. “You’re pretty.” He finally broke the silence after you’d both laid there for a while. It was dark outside and you’d spent the whole day in the lake again. Jeno was starting to see why you loved the lake so much. “You’re pretty too.” You smiled down at him and placed a kiss on his head.

“If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?” You randomly asked, “Where did that come from?” He asked, stroking your leg. “But since you asked, I’d go to this small little village in the south of France, and I’d be laying in bed with a very pretty girl whilst she asks me random questions.” You grinned at his answer, “You wouldn’t go home?” You asked, unsure of what his answer would be. He knew you were referencing his home in Seoul when you asked this. “Hm, I do miss my home but right now I’m enjoying laying with you.” You ran your fingers down his back sending shivers down his spine. He loved the feeling he got when you touched him.

“Do you believe in God?” You shot another random question at him. He didn’t know how to answer this one because he genuinely didn’t know the answer. “I don’t know, do you?” He asked. You pondered for a while before saying, “I think so. It’s probably because I’m scared to believe otherwise. I would like to believe that there’s a heaven and that there’s someone there looking out for you. Even if His previous decisions were questionable.” He hummed in agreement. “When did your dad become a priest?” He shuffled to get more comfortable, “Not very long ago, maybe ten years? He divorced my mother to become one. It was a strange time. It’s not usual to hear of priests with children. I was worried what would happen when we came here because our old church had gotten used to it.” You had wondered why your village’s new Catholic priest had two sons at the time but never really questioned it. You wondered if anyone else had too, they probably had knowing the people in this village.

“I’m sorry that happened.” You whispered whilst placing another kiss on his head. “I think that’s why I’m so adverse to religion. My father denounced everything, his wife and almost his two children for a job. He’s moved us over to a country we no barely anything about for a job. You don’t even have to divorce if you’re already married to become a priest. I think he just went crazy.” Jeno shrugged whilst you stroked his hair to comfort him. “I know it seems strange that Donghae and I are both adults but we can’t make our own decision about where we live. But he’s controlling, it didn’t feel like we had a choice.” Jeno huffed and nuzzled deeper into your neck. “I understand. Thank you for sharing that with me. I know stuff like that is hard to talk about.” Jeno placed another kiss on your neck before you started speaking again. “I think I’m the opposite. I have so much freedom that it’s scary. My mother is a workaholic. Well I guess she has to be to keep a roof over our heads. It seems mean to say this but I don’t think she really cares where we are or what we’re doing as long as we’re not causing problems for her. My dad barely leaves the house. He fell into a deep depression after his brother passed away when I was eight or nine. It’s like he’s dead too. He’s alive but he’s dead.” You felt a pang of sadness hit your chest. You didn’t talk about your dad much because it hurt too much. You had a great relationship with him until your uncle had died and after that you completely lost him. You suddenly felt guilty that you’d offloaded your problems onto Jeno after he’d just poured his heart out to you. “Is that why you like it here so much? It feels more like home?” He sits up and asks you. “Yeah, I think so.” You whisper. Jeno presses a kiss to your forehead, then one on your nose and then finally one on your lips. “We’ll go to the lake tomorrow to swim after church, hey?” He placed a hand on your cheek, “Yeah I’d like that.”

You awoke in the morning with Jeno softly snoring with his head on your chest. Oh Lord. You must have both fallen asleep after talking. “Jeno, wake up.” You ran your fingers through his hair, not wanting to wake him up abruptly but also enough to actually wake him up because you were sure your grandparents wouldn’t be happy about a boy sleeping in your room. Not that you’d meant it. But even so, they wouldn’t be happy. He mumbled something incoherent as he shuffled on top of you. “Jen, we need to get up.” He sleepily lifted his head and when he noticed where he was his eyes opened wide. “Oh shit, sorry. We must have been tired last night.” He lifted himself off of you and sat on the edge of the bed whilst you started to get up and move around. He watched as you picked up some clothes off the floor and placed them in your washing basket. It was daytime now so things were much more visible. Your room was messy, skincare stuff and makeup was scattered all over your desk, clothes on the floor and your painting stuff just chucked in the corner. “Don’t worry my room is horrific. This is clean.” You rolled your eyes at him and threw one of your t-shirts at him. “I’d this for me? It looks a bit small?” He smiled and you rolled your eyes again throwing another item of clothing at him.

It wasn’t long before you arrived at the church with your family and Jeno. Jeno’s father immediately pulled him aside, he didn’t look happy. You wondered what they were talking about. You could see Father Lee gesturing for Jeno to sit next to his brother. Jeno gave you a smile of sympathy before sitting next to his brother. You sat in the middle with your grandparents and brother. You looked up at Mary whilst Father Lee started his service. You wondered if she cared about what was going on below her. She’d probably heard it all a million times. You sort of admired her despite your aversion to church and to religion. She had stood at the top of the church all this time, silently watching for all these years. Your eyes wondered around to the various paintings on the ceiling. How long did it take to paint those? And how high did the ladder have to be to reach the top? And how did the people painting them know what Jesus looked like? They had no reference. You couldn’t deny the churches beauty. Lots of people had obviously worked very hard to create this place hundreds of years ago. You decided to watch the back of Jeno’s head for a while. It was lowered for most of the time. He only looked up when his father spoke a word he understood, or when his brother spoke to him. It made you feel sad.

Jeno had been invited around for dinner for the umpteenth time that week by your grandparents. They could see how happy he was making you and could probably see that Jeno needed some company too. It was late when Jeno suggested you both walk into the village. Your grandparents made sure to tell him to take good care of you as it was dark and he assured them he would never let anything bad happen to you. That made you smile. You loosely held hands as you walked. You could see some horses had been put into a pasture along the road and you headed towards them, stroking their noble heads and giggling when they tried to nibble at your jumper. You passed the church a few minutes later and you were surprised when Jeno crossed the road to head towards it. You were even more surprised that the church was unlocked when Jeno pushed one of the large wooden doors open. “I want to show you something.” He said as you followed behind him. He headed towards the front and looked up, “Despite everything I feel about church and religion and my dad, I’ve always quite liked Mary.” He spoke softly, you held his hand close to you and leaned your head on his shoulder whilst you both looked up at the statue. “She’s managed to fool all of these people into believing she was a virgin despite getting pregnant. It’s amazing really.” He almost laughed at his own statement. You moved your attention to Jeno’s face as he looked up at the statue. His face must have been calved by angels, if they existed. It was perfect. He was perfect. You moved in front of him so you were facing him and wrapped your arms around him. He returned the gesture and wrapped his arms around you too. “Are you a virgin?” You suddenly ask out of the blue. Jeno is shocked by your question and almost chokes whilst trying to answer it. “What?” He says, “Are you a virgin?” You repeat, this time looking up at him. “I have a controlling overly religious father, what do you think? He raises an eyebrow. “Wait, you actually are? But you’re so hot!” You place and hand on his chest, your mouth wide open. “Thank you, I guess.” You wrap your arms around his neck and place a kiss on his lips. His hands find your waist and you slip your tongue into his mouth. “You kiss well for a virgin.” You couldn’t but say it. “I’ve have kissed girls before!” He sounds offended but doesn’t say anymore as you press your lips to his again.

Your arms unwrap themselves from Jeno’s neck and your hands find your way to his chest and then lower, and then slightly lower. “Is this okay?” You ask when you pull away from his lips. He looked to pretty right now, his lips red and slightly swollen. He mumbles out a “yes,” and you drop to your knees. In a church. God if you are real and you’re watching us right now, please forgive me, you thought as you began to unbutton Jeno’s pants. He watches you as you pull his underwear down, and take his cock into your hand. You look up at him again and he swears this is the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. You pump his cock a few times before taking it into your mouth. You make sure to retain eye contact as you suck, wanting to see Jeno’s reaction as you gave him head in the middle of his fathers church. It felt so unbelievably good, he thought, the fact that it was so wrong excited him. You kept looking up at him through your eyelashes as you went, making sure to take him right to the back of your throat. He threw his head back and groaned as you did this so you knew you were doing a good job. “Fuck, this is amazing.” He moaned and placed his hands on the back of your head. You could sense he was getting close as he pushed slightly on your head and let out a loud groan. “Come in my mouth.” You said as you took your mouth of his cock for a second. He quickly pushed your head back down and you giggled before taking it back into your mouth. And then he came. Right into your mouth, some spilling out past your lips and onto your chin. You swallowed before coming back up to face him. “Holy shit. I have faith. How could God not be real if having your dick sucked in a church felt that good?” You joked and you giggled at his comment as he took your face into his hand and wiped his cum off of your lips and chin. “Thank you baby.” He placed a kiss to your forehead before bringing you into his chest for a hug. “No problem.” You grinned cheekily at him and wrapped your arms around his waist. “You should probably pull your pants up and get me out of here though. It’s late.” He smiled and placed another kiss on your forehead before you both headed back to your house.

“Really, thank you though.” Jeno said as he pulled the covers over you both. “Stop thanking me! It’s the least I could do!” You giggle and throw your arm over his stomach. “What random question are you gonna ask me tonight?” He asked as he placed a hand on your head, reminiscent of the nights earlier events, but this time to stroke your hair. “Hm, who is your favourite artist?” You run your hands down his chest and abs, feeling over the beautifully crafted muscles. “You.” He says immediately. “No like a real artist.” You look up at him and he swears it almost makes him hard again. “You are a real artist. You make art, beautiful art, and, you’re real.” He says very surely. “Thank you.” You lean your head into his chest. “Are we gonna risk you sleeping over again? Yeah I think we are, you’re very comfortable.” You say as your eyes flutter shut.

“Stop!” You squeal as Jeno lifts you over his shoulder and quickly walks into the lake, following your brothers. “No! Come and have some fun!” Your brothers laugh, enjoying their sisters misfortune but also enjoying seeing you so happy. “I was having fun!” You try to argue but it doesn’t seem to make any difference as Jeno dunks you into the lake. When you come up from the water you push Jeno back to try and get him to fall back into the water but you fail miserably and fall yourself, right into his chest. “Aw what a lovely thank you hug for making enjoy your day instead of sitting on the side just watching us.” You give in and wrap your hands around his neck placing a kiss on his cheek. Oliver makes a gagging sound and splashed you both, Jeno immediately unwraps himself from you and chases your brother round as fast as he can despite the water trying to stop him. Kaspar makes his way towards you, “I like this version of you. All happy and loved up. It’s nice.” You lay back in the water and watch the clouds above you. “But what’s gonna happen when we have to leave for Denmark again?” You hadn’t even thought about the fact you’d have to go back at the end of the summer and it made you feel sick. “I don’t know. But I don’t really care right now.” You stand upright again and look at your brother, a pout on your lips. “Sorry for bringing it up. Just want to prepare you.” You knew your brother only ever had good intentions. He’d never want to hurt you, he loved you far too much. You enjoyed watching Jeno chase Oliver for a while longer before you decided you were too cold and needed to get out of the water.

Jeno joined you by the lakeside a few minutes later as you lay out on your towel, enjoying the sunshine with your new sunglasses. The lake had a mix of stones and sand surrounding it and you’d found a good spot with no stones. He laid next to you on his side on the towel you’d brought him. He reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze when he retrieved it. “You’re so pretty.” He said, which made you break out into a smile. You felt all your worries leave your body whenever he spoke. “Even in my sunglasses?” You teased, “Even in your sunglasses.” He winked at you before he headed back into the lake with your brothers. You sat up and watched them for a while, playing and thrashing about in the water. Oliver had brought a ball with him and they were throwing it about playing some sort of game they’d made up. You couldn’t help but smile watching Jeno get on so well with your brothers.

Your brothers had never liked your previous boyfriend, if that was what you could even call Jeno, you weren’t sure, you hadn’t spoken about it. Your ex wasn’t exactly interested in having any sort of relationship with your family and it made you sad. When you thought back to it, all he wanted was to have sex with you, and when you weren’t having sex he was distant and cold. You broke up with him after five months, five months too long, you thought, and he was surprised that you’d done it. You couldn’t believe the audacity he had. He was honestly shocked that you wanted to end things with him after he treated you like you like you were just a hook up. You could remember Oliver being so relieved when you told him your boyfriend wouldn’t be coming over anymore. “Thank the Lord.” He said. He was only nine.

The boys finally made their way out the lake, complaining of hunger. You suggested that instead of bothering your grandmother for food, you’d head out into the village for lunch. Your grandmother never minded cooking for you but you thought she deserved a break, having cooked three meals a day for you for the past two months. You walked back up into the house to get changed, Jeno following behind you. Your grandparents weren’t in anyway, you remembered they’d told you they were driving into the closest town to pick up something your grandfather needed. As you and Jeno walked into your bedroom you caught a whiff of your hair, it smelt of lake. “I’m just gonna shower quickly. I smell of lake.” You told Jeno. Your mind, being in the gutter as always, asked you to invite him in. So you did. “Wanna come shower with me? I don’t share a bathroom with anyone so we’re safe.” You gave him a sultry look. He didn’t have to say anything as he followed you into the bathroom, taking his shirt off as he did so.

You turned on the shower and began undressing. You realised Jeno had never seen you naked before. You suddenly felt insecure, but there wasn’t any going back now. Jeno watched as you took off your bikini top, mesmerised by how beautiful you were. Once you were fully naked you stepped into the shower, “Coming in?” You snapped Jeno out of his daze and he pulled off his shorts and got in with you. “You’re so beautiful.” He ran his hands down your sides. You smile at him and place a kiss on his cheek. Jeno helps you wash your hair and makes sure your conditioner is coating every strand of your hair. Once you’re done you step out, pulling a towel around yourself and pass one to Jeno. He wraps it around his waist and follows you back through the hallway and into your bedroom, thankful you hadn’t been caught by your brothers.

When you arrive at the village café you sit down on one of the tables outside. Having already decided on your orders on the walk there, Jeno and Kaspar go inside to order your meals. “You like Jeno a lot don’t you?” Oliver asks you. “I do Oli.” You smile at him, “I like Jeno too. He’s very nice. He’s nice to you too.” You feel bad that Oliver had probably picked up on the way your ex had treated you. It probably worried him. But you’re grateful that he likes Jeno. When Kaspar and Jeno come out they have your drinks. Jeno places your coffee in front of you and sits down next to you. He immediately grabs your hand from under the table and rests it on his thigh. You give his hand a squeeze and try your coffee, humming in pleasure at its taste.

It’s three in the morning and you can’t sleep. Jeno had decided that after your walk to see the horses in the pasture that he should probably go home and sleep in his own bed that night. He had mentioned that his father wasn’t happy that he was out almost every night and questioned his whereabouts whenever he would see him. Which wasn’t very often these days. You couldn’t sleep without Jeno now though. He’d spoiled you with his fantastically comfortable chest which you used as a pillow. You decided that you weren’t going to sleep any time soon so you got up and out of bed. You sneaked out to the kitchen and out the back door successfully without waking anyone and made your way down to the lake. This was something you did often before Jeno had arrived in the village. Your grandfather had told you off about it, saying it wasn’t safe to go down to the lake on your own at night but you needed to see the water sometimes. Even if you’d been in the lake all day, sometimes you just needed to watch the water.

The moon reflected off the middle of the lake and reflected in your eyes. It looked beautiful, you thought. You sat down on a rock and looked out into the water. It was so calm and peaceful. You thought back to your previous summers spent overlooking the lake. None of them were as happy as this summer. You felt ill at the fact that in three weeks time, you would be on a plane on your way back to Copenhagen. You hadn’t spoken to Jeno about it but both of you knew it was coming. You could feel your heart ripping apart at the thought of the conversation. You couldn’t leave him here, even if you would be back the following summer, you didn’t think you could last nine months without him, you couldn’t even last a night without him. You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard footsteps on the rocks behind you. You spun your head in fear but your heart rate returned to a slightly lower rate when you realised it was Kaspar. “Jesus Kristus, du skræmte mig.” You threw a tiny pebble at his legs. “Sorry.” He chuckled before taking a seat next to you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked, his legs spreading out in front of him. “No, I can’t sleep without Jeno.” You shamefully admitted to him. “What are you gonna do when we get home?” He asked. He knew that you were in love with Jeno. His question wasn’t necessarily about your sleeping habits but just in general. What were you going to do? He wrapped an arm around you and you rested your head on his shoulder. You both stayed in silence as you watched the little ripples form in the water as the breeze skimmed across it. “We should go in. You need to sleep.” He stood up and offered you a hand. You both headed back into the house and Kaspar dropped you back off at your bedroom. You couldn’t sleep at all that night.

You must have fallen asleep eventually because when you awoke, it was already midday. You wondered into the kitchen to see if anyone was in. You could see your grandparents through the kitchen window tending to their garden and you assumed your brothers were down at the lake. There was only one thing you wanted to do today and that was to see Jeno. You quickly got ready and headed out up the road and into the village. When you got to the church you knocked on the cottage door. Donghae opened it and seemed happy to see you. He let you in and told you Jeno was in his room and he would go and get him. You waited for them and decided to glance around the kitchen. There were portraits of Jesus and Mary, several crucifixes and what you assumed was a Bible quote on the wall, but it was in Korean. When Jeno appeared he seemed surprised to see that you’d come to his home. He immediately took your hand and ushered you to his room without saying anything. “Is your dad in?” You asked when Jeno shut the door. “No thank God, but you can’t just appear here. You’re not my fathers favourite church goer believe it or not.” You smiled knowingly. Jeno’s father would often give you stern looks in church. Jeno had told you that his father believed you were corrupting him. That was true, you thought, thinking back to the ‘incident’ in the church. You didn’t care what Jeno’s father thought of you, you only really cared about Jeno. It was probably pretty selfish to think that but Jeno would probably agree with you.

Jeno guided you to his room and shut the door behind him. He had nothing on his walls other than a crucifix above his bed, which was messy and unmade. There were a few items of clothing strewn around the floor and books piled up on the desk. He noticed you looking around, “I was going to ask you if you’d paint me something I could hang on the wall. Just to make it feel more homely I guess.” You nodded and joined him on the bed. “I would be more than happy to.” You placed a kiss on his cheek. A knock on the door snapped you both out of your daze and Jeno instantly got up, scared it was his father knocking. Donghae opened the door and told Jeno something in Korean. When he shut the door behind him Jeno said, “He’s going out. We probably have a while before anyone gets back.” You then immediately pressed your lips to his and pushed him back on the bed.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and deepened the kiss. His hands slipped under the t-shirt you were wearing, which just so happened to be his. He must have left it at your place after a swim in the lake. You pulled away from him and hooked your fingers under his shirt, beginning to pull it up over his head. He leaned forward to help you and threw the shirt in the pile of clothes on the floor. You immediately ran your hands over his chest, admiring how beautiful he was and went back in for another kiss. Jeno straight away slipped his hands under your shirt and you helped him get better access by taking it off. You also took the opportunity to remove your bra. Jeno had seen your naked body before but this time he felt different, and he swore he’d never seen something so beautiful in his life. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your breast before placing your lips back on his. You ground down on his crotch and could feel him hardening up at the friction. He moaned and ground his hips back up into yours. You continued like this for a while before you decided enough was enough and you needed him. You swung your leg over him and pulled him up by the hands so he was sitting in front of you. You unbuttoned his pants, just like you’d done in the church that day and he stood up to remove them along with his boxers. You took off your shorts and underwear and then got back into the bed. Jeno took a moment to appreciate how perfect everyone was at that moment and how beautiful you looked, waiting for him. He got on top of you, bringing you in for a kiss. “Are you sure you’re ready?” You asked him, placing a hand on his cheek, making sure he wanted to go through with it. He leaned over to his nightstand and rummaged through it, pulling out a condom.

“You were prepared for this, huh?” You smiled at him, kissing him again. He ripped open the condom and rolled it over his cock and lined himself up. “Go ahead.” You eyes rolled back into your head as he pushed into you and you grabbed his shoulders to ground you. “Holy fuck.” He groaned as he began to fuck in and out of you, “You feel so good baby.” He panted as he placed small kisses on your breasts and neck. “Jen, I love you.” It just came out of your mouth. You didn’t mean it to but God you meant it. “I love you too beautiful, I have since the moment I saw you.” You pulled him closer to you and be buried his face in your neck. He fucked in and out of you slowly and carefully. You could feel yourself getting close as could he. “Go faster.” You breathed out. He propped himself up and began to fuck you faster and harder and the feeling in the pit of your stomach grew. You whined out and grabbed on to Jeno’s back, probably leaving marks but you didn’t care at that moment, you felt so good. “I’m gonna cum.” He choked out before he released, shaking and moaning. He pulled out of you and snaked down your body, his head ending up at your pussy. He licked a stripe up you and focused on your clit, sucking on it. It wasn’t long before you came too, grabbing on to his hair as he ate you out. “Thank you baby. I love you.” You pulled him up towards you and placed a kiss on his mouth and pulling him closer to you by wrapping your arms around his neck. He collapsed on top of you, mumbling an “I love you too,” before wrapping his arms around your waist and snuggling into your neck.

It was a beautiful evening as the sun set over the lake and you and Jeno were in the water, your arms around his neck and his around your waist. You’d been meaning to talk to him about your return to Denmark but the right time never came. You weren’t sure that the right time would ever come. But it had to at some point. You pressed a kiss to Jeno’s lips before starting what would probably be one of the hardest conversations of your life. You weren’t sure where to even start. Leaning your head on his shoulder, you spoke, “I leave for Denmark again in 10 days.” You felt Jeno’s body tense up under your touch. He didn’t respond he just leaned his head into your shoulder and placed a gently kiss on it. You could feel your eyes beginning to fill with tears as you moved your arms up to cradle his head, stroking his hair. “I don’t want to go.” You cried, tears cascading down your cheeks. “I don’t want this to end.” Jeno held you tightly. He didn’t know what to say. His heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest and stamped on repeatedly. “Don’t go, please.” He managed to squeeze out, trying not to cry too. “I have to Jen. I have school and my parents.” Jeno couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he gripped into you harder, as if holding you tighter might prevent you from leaving. “You can’t leave me here.” He choked out, sobbing now. “I’m sorry Jen. I love you so much.” You pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, wiping away the tears with your thumb.

Jeno slept round again that night, holding you tighter and closer than he ever had. Making sure to take in everything about you. The way your skin felt on his fingers, the way you smelt and the way every time you touched him it felt like an electric pulse shot through his body. “I can’t be alone here.” He let out randomly in the middle of the night. “I don’t know what I’ll do.” It was the early hours of the morning at this point and neither of you had slept. Jeno shot up from the bed, his hands covering his face as he sat on the side. You sat up too and placed your head his back. The panic of not having you here was starting to set in with him and he wasn’t coping very well. “I can’t.” He choked before letting out a sob. You weren’t sure if anything you were going to say would help him. You’d racked your brains for ways your mother might let you stay in France but you kept coming up empty. She was be furious with you if you were just going to throw away your education and future for a boy you’d met on vacation. It didn’t feel like that to you though. Your relationship with Jeno was different, you felt so connected to him in a way that was so hard to explain. “I know,” was all you could say as you rubbed his back, trying to comfort him.

Over the following days you and Jeno had been stuck together like glue. He hadn’t left your side and you hadn’t left his. Your grandparents had noticed that you were so desperately trying to hang on to each other, with it coming to the end of your stay. Jeno was in the lake with your brothers one afternoon, it was probably the first time he hadn’t been right next to you since your conversation. You’d decided to stay on the lakeside and paint. Your grandfather had joined you after a while. “How are you coping?” He said as he stood next to you awkwardly, probably not knowing what to say to you. His granddaughters love life wasn’t exactly his area of expertise. “I think we’re just pretending it’s not happening.” You sighed and continued to add paint to your canvas. “You know, you can always come here whenever you’d like. It doesn’t just have to be for the summer.” He said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I know Farfar, but you know my mother. We have to help at home.” You looked up and him and he pulled you in for a side hug.

On the evening before you left, it was tradition for you to play board games with your grandparents. Jeno had stayed for this occasion of course and you’d both played happily alongside your family. Jeno had helped you pack your bags and had sneakily placed a few of his t-shirts in your bag, knowing how much you liked to wear them. He seemed okay, you thought, but it didn’t stop you from worrying about him. You didn’t feel okay at all. You wanted to cry when you noticed that he’d put some of his shirts in your bag but you didn’t say anything, worried that it would set him off again. Jeno held your hand throughout the whole of your games night, bringing it up to his mouth every so often to place a soft kiss on it. Your grandparents and brothers felt sad for you both and looked at you with sorry eyes every time Jeno did it. They could see how much love you had for each other and it broke their hearts that you’d be split apart in the morning.

There wasn’t enough room in your grandfathers car for Jeno to come on the ride to the airport. You realised as you piled your bags into the car that the time had finally come and you’d have to say goodbye to Jeno. You grasped his hands so tightly after you’d packed your last items in your room. Tears flowed immediately as he pulled you in for a hug. You sobbed into his chest and he placed small kisses on your neck. You could feel his tears hitting your skin as you held each other tightly. “I love you so much. So fucking much, it’s killing me.” He kissed up your neck, moving his hands to cradle your head as you stroked his back. “I love you.” He said again. “I love you.” You said back, softly, and he sank into you even further, letting out a sob.

You watched Jeno’s sad eyes as your grandfather pulled away from the house. Kaspar wrapped an arm around your shoulder and placed a kiss on your temple as you cried. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe. You felt as if your heart had been ripped out and stamped on, placed through a shredder and thrown in the trash. On the way through the village you asked your grandparents to stop off at Jeno’s house. You wanted to give him his gift when he wasn’t there. You didn’t think either of your hearts could have taken the final break of you giving him a goodbye gift. You placed the painting of the lake on his doorstep with a note attached. It was the painting you’d been working on when Jeno had approached you at the lake at the beginning of the summer.

END.

death of peace of mind

train conductor haechan x fem reader

genre: magiccore/miyazaki/tim burton, broad industrial revolution/victorian setting, romance, soulmates au, enemies (?) to lovers, !!slow burn!!, angst, smut, multiperspective

warnings and content: +18, explicit sexual content, virgin reader, fingering, unprotected, nipple play, biting, some level of corruption, sexual tension, oral fem receiving, hand job, pet names (darling, love, baby, my girl, my lady) and titles (Sir, Miss), begging, praise, spanking, sexual tension, gentlemanly and lady-like behaviour etc etc

words: 19k

other characters: mark as reader's friend, jeno for a moment, johnny mentioned

synopsis: The Train. That's where your parents met a few years before you were born and that's where your grandparents met as well as their parents before that. Oh to be grown and travel on the Train as well, meeting your soulmate and falling so madly in love that you'd become consumed by it. And there you were years later, your only travel case in your hand and your best dress on, standing in the Train Station at exactly 1:05am on the 1st of May. You looked up and let the night sky calm you down and when you looked back in front of you, the train was there. What were you supposed to do now? But then one door opened, engulfing you with the freshest flowery scent. The most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life descended and tilted his hat lifting one gloved hand to guide you inside. "Welcome aboard, Miss."

for the lovers of dream sorter haechan

__________

When the curtains call the time

Will we both go home alive?

It wasn't hard to realize

Love's the death of peace of mind

The Train.

That's where your parents met a few years before you were born and that's where your grandparents met as well as their parents before that.

The tales of those encounters enriched your childhood and your fragile dreams. Oh, to be grown and travel on the Train as well, meeting your soulmate and falling so madly in love that you'd become consumed by it.

You’ve always desired it. You’ve always longed for it. 

The teachers would get shiny eyes and beaming smiles on May 1st. You remembered the first time it happened. The air felt different and the town felt more alive than usual. 

"Today is a special day for all of us," your parents also smiled at the breakfast table. They looked almost shy and they exchanged gazes they would usually let themselves have in a more private moment. 

You were in your first year of elementary school but from what you could understand, that day sounded like a big deal for the adults and it started to be a big deal for you as well. 

"This is the day when people go on a Journey to find their soulmate," the teacher repeated what you've already heard at home. 

The Train, the children would whisper, the giddiness in their voices making you almost escape your skin with excitement. 

"Can we go and see it?" you asked with your heart in your throat from the emotion. You really wanted to see all the young adults go to the Train Station and embark. 

The teacher smiled as if that was the most common question asked. "Unfortunately, it's a very private moment. But when you're ready, you will finally see the Train and you will find the love of your life during the Journey." 

You were an only child so besides your parents' tale of how starstruck they both felt upon seeing each other on the Train, you had no other immediate example of how the experience would go. 

"My brother Johnny said the place they ended up in is way more gorgeous than our town," one of your classmates and your best friend said one time. "But not as gorgeous as his partner, he said,” making a throwing-up motion with his fingers. 

A choir of grossed out children made you giggle at the time and you joined them, but deep inside you knew that it was indeed possible to meet a person more gorgeous than the most gorgeous place on earth.

You wanted that. You desperately wanted that. 

Your parents also said their towns of origin weren't as beautiful as the one you were living in and although you could objectively see it was decently cute and cozy you were sure they felt that way because of the rosy love glasses. 

"Why do I have to leave this place when I find my soulmate?" you wondered one time as you were growing older and having more and more thoughts about the Journey. 

Your mom patted your head. "When you find the love of your life the Train stops and lets you both off. The couple has to live in the place they ended up in."

"What if I want to come home?" you argued.

"Your partner will be your home," your dad explained with a fond smile. "We will see each other often the way you see all of your grandparents. Don't worry about missing us."

"Also it is too soon for you to think so deeply about it," your mom chuckled, pulling at your cheek.

Yet, there you were years later, your only suitcase in your hand, which you bought for the occasion, and your best dress on, standing in the Train Station and feeling like the too soon came, well, too soon. 

Your mom helped you put on some makeup as well that day and you had to admit you were feeling pretty cute.

But oh so anxious.

You couldn’t believe you were about to initiate the Journey on the Train. Thoughts of how your soulmate looked like adorned your mind since you could remember but in the latest months you found yourself fantasizing about them more and more. 

But with the pretty thoughts, some thoughts of doom would send rocks to your mind as well feeding your anxiety even further.

The mixed emotions made you uneasy.

"What if there's no soulmate for me?" you looked yourself in the mirror as your mom finished her last touches on your hair. 

"Nonsense," she reassured you. 

"But has it happened before?" you insisted. 

She sighed. "Yes but it's very rare. What happens, in that case, is that you need to come back home and you need to go on the Journey the following year." 

"And are there people who went on for many years and they met no one?"

"Not as far as I know. Everyone met someone sooner or later. Your grandma met your grandpa after 3 years." 

You exhaled. Maybe you'd just go on a little train ride and come home before sunset.

Maybe you'll also need 3 years. 

Maybe no one would fall in love with you ever. 

You expected the Station to be full of people but it was completely empty.

"Don't worry about it. The Station doesn't let you see your friends until you're all on." 

You bit your lower lip and waited. There was no moon on the sky and the stars were very visible. 

You looked up and let the night sky calm you down and when you looked back in front of you, the Train was there. 

"Heavens," you swallowed the little surprising gasp and looked to your right then left feeling your breath accelerate. You didn’t hear it arrive. 

What were you supposed to do now? Was it supposed to feel this ominous? 

But then one door opened with a slow hiss, engulfing you with the freshest flowery scent. 

The most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life descended and tilted his hat lifting one gloved hand to guide you inside.

"Welcome aboard, Miss." 

His hair was black and a bit longer in the back. Your father would have said it looked a bit messy; he’d probably offer some gel and suggested him to comb it backwards. But the man wore it so well that you found yourself thinking how it would feel like to pass your hand through it and mess it up even further. 

“Thank you,” you replied quietly. Then you cleared your throat and tried again. 

The man’s face was a polite mask, not one muscle of his perfect face twitching or moving. On the contrary, you felt your face in flames as you walked near him to enter the wagon. 

“Please, choose the coach you’re most attracted to,” you heard his voice behind you. The fresh flowery perfume followed you both and you realized it was his scent. Taking a few steps forward you found yourself shaking ever so slightly. 

“Who are you?” you turned around before having a chance to look down the dark but cosily illuminated wooden corridor of the train. 

His chest was so close that you could see the little silvery tag on it. Conductor. 

Then you took a step back not realizing how close he was. 

“I apologize for not having introduced myself earlier. I am the Conductor, Miss,” he simply replied. “I’ll be around the Train if you need me. Also, if you ring the bell you’ll find in every wagon."

His eyes were a dark shade of marine blue, you realized, like the ocean during a storm, when you can’t distinguish between the water and the sky.

Your grandpa told you many tales of his life at sea. He used to say it was the most beautiful and terrifying thing, and at the time you didn’t understand how something scary could be beautiful, but that man’s eyes made a shiver go down your spine yet you didn’t want him to stop looking at you. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'll leave you to get comfortable,” he tilted his hat again, making a shadow appear over his eyes, as if reading your mind and seeing your fascination with them. 

You gave him a little bow as well, as your mother has been teaching you it was polite to do when meeting gentlemen, then you stared at the way he turned around and took the opposite direction in the tight corridor. His shoulders almost touched the walls when he walked and his legs looked extremely long in his black uniform. 

The coach you chose was the first on your left, a luxurious dark brown space, with deep bordeaux seats which you realized were softer than any other material you’ve ever felt before. You placed your suitcase on the designated space and sat down, looking at the windows showing your town’s Train Station, then you inhaled and exhaled looking down at your dress and rubbing your lace-gloved hands together.

What were you supposed to do?

Would your soulmate come barging in your coach?

Would you meet over breakfast in the morning?

Why were you all supposed to go at exactly 1:05am? 

You suppressed a yawn wondering where you were expected to sleep, then with the corner of your eye you noticed the curtains slowly close and you gasped feeling the train depart at the same time. 

Your older cousins liked to joke about ghosts roaming around the Train but you thought you were grown already to believe such things. Yet, the movement felt uncanny and you were so on edge that you haven’t realized you were squished against one of the seats’ corners until a ding made you scream. 

On the little table a small card boarded with gold appeared out of thin air. 

“Dear Miss, you are invited for Breakfast in the Dining Car. Please turn the card around for the Train map. My warmest regards, the Conductor” 

You touched the paper with your fingertip as if it were a poisonous snake and the ink smudged a bit as if it has been freshly written. 

Breakfast? At 1am? Maybe he meant tomorrow morning? 

You turned the card around as instructed and the display for the train was illustrated. A little “you are here” red mark told you that your wagon was the one in the middle of the train.

You wondered how did the Conductor know you chose that specific coach when he left you just a few minutes prior and didn’t even check back.

The Dining car was towards the head of the train, the direction in which the Conductor walked, and the name Steam Locomotive adorned the first car. You wondered if he was in there or if his coach was one of the wagons close by. 

The train was moving swiftly so it wasn’t bothering you as you thought it would. The closed curtains made you sad that you couldn’t see the scenery so you got up and extended your hand towards them, trying to perhaps see the machinery through which they were able to close on their own.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice made you jump in place. 

“Mark!” you turned around and walked the few steps towards the door to hug a very dumbfounded young man. 

“Hey, hey, you okay?” he awkwardly stood there even after you retrieved your arms from his neck and stared him up and down. 

“I was so scared to be alone. It’s good to see your face,” you explained. 

Johnny’s younger brother has been your best friend and the one you spoke about the Train Journey the most growing up. You were still ashamed to remember the way you cried for the whole night the time Mark told you his brother hasn’t come home from the Journey because he has found his soulmate. You had a very intense childhood crush on him. 

“I get it,” he smiled then his eyes went down to eye your dress, then up, noticing your prettily arranged hair and makeup.

Then he sighed, almost disappointed. 

Without realizing you touched your cheek. Did he think you were ugly?

“What?” you blinked at him. 

Mark shook his head. “I just-,” he started then interrupted himself, a bright dust of red moving in towards his cheeks and ears. “I thought that maybe you could be- you know-sometimes it happens that even friends-” 

You blinked at him then you felt your own face on fire. “Oh,” you realized what he wanted to say. The scarf you tied around your neck made it difficult for you to breathe. 

“Well,” he scratched the back of his head. “I guess we’re not soulmates. That, of course, if you didn’t feel anything in particular either.” 

“I felt relief,” you said. 

Mark nodded, agreeing with you. “I was also just glad to see a friend.”

Was he disappointed you weren’t his soulmate? Or was he happy it wasn’t you?

“Same.” 

The following silence made him clear his voice once then his eyes fell on the card in your hands. 

“Oh, I got one too. I was wondering if it was a prank inviting me over for breakfast. I was going towards the Dining Car to at least check it out.” 

“Right? I thought I was the one misunderstanding the invite,” you chuckled. “I’ll come with you now if you don't mind.” 

Mark took a few steps back to let you exit the coach and his eyes fell on the window again. “My parents said that if you open the curtains when the train is moving you’ll be forced to descend in the first place you see. Alone. Without the possibility to return on the Train ever again.” 

A shiver ran down your body at his words. 

“There’s also a warning,” he indicated with his chin. 

You followed the direction and noticed the golden plate near the curtains. 

You could have sworn it wasn’t there before. 

_________

The corridor was gorgeously decorated with fresh flowers and paintings. You and Mark took your time to peek into most of the coaches too, giggling a bit when you noticed some of their residents weren’t alone. 

“How long do you think it takes for people to meet everyone on the train?” Mark asked, impressed that some were already coupled. 

You thought about it. “The train stops in every town, doesn’t it? There's so many people. I feel like even a few weeks." 

Mark winced. “That’s a long time. My parents met within 15 minutes of boarding. They had neighbouring coaches.” 

“My parents met after a few days,” you recalled. “My maternal grandparents met after three years of trying.” 

Your friend hummed. “That’s hard. I’d be losing hope.” 

You swallowed the dry lump. “That’s a bit scary, yes.”

You didn’t want to tell him that you were afraid you might end up just like them. 

The Entertainment wagons were about five, and you both held your breaths when entering the first as it was roaming with people. The strangers’ faces turned towards you both with inquisitive eyes, as if checking if one of you were their soulmate. 

You bit your lower lip taking a few steps inside. 

“What exactly do you think we need to feel when meeting the one?” you whispered as some people sighed and turned around, sign you weren’t interesting. 

“No clue. But it has to be something,” Mark answered. “Maybe a sharp feeling. Awe. Even fear?” 

“Fear? Why would I be afraid if I meet my soulmate?” you both walked slowly, staring at the board games people were playing. 

Mark hummed. “Not actual fear. More so like the fear you get right before sliding down with a sleigh. It’s scary but you know it will feel very nice.”

The example made you chuckle and it broke some of the tension you were feeling. Then his words actually arrived to your brain. 

Like the fear before sliding down with a sleigh…

…or the fear when you see a sea storm. 

You shook your head and exited the coach to enter the rest. 

_________

“I can’t believe there’s actual breakfast,” Mark repeated for the third time already, cheeks full with eggs and bacon. 

You giggled, impressed by your own appetite so late at night. Or early in the morning?

“The train has different time zones than your town of origin,” a voice explained. 

The scent came first and it froze you in place, the piece of banana you were about to devour still in mid-air. 

Mark lifted his gaze to the side and greeted the voice. 

“I hope everything is to your liking,” the Conductor added. When you put the banana down on your plate and looked up, he was already looking at you. His stormy eyes were slightly squeezed in an attempt to look polite. His uniform looked impeccable as usual and with his hands clasped behind his back his chest popped underneath it.

You forced yourself to look away. 

“Yes, thank you. The train is gorgeous,” you said. 

The Conductor smiled a bit more. “And I hope this is a congratulatory meal?” he asked, looking at Mark for a moment as well, who furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Oh,” you shook your hands, realizing what he meant. “No no, it’s not like that.”

“We’re just friends,” Mark butt in, a bit scandalized. 

You nodded fervently. “Classmates. From the same town.” 

“Yes. Our coaches are close-by and we just found each other.” 

The Conductor listened to one then the other, looking at both of you intermittently with his everlasting smile. “Well, then. I’m glad you enjoy each other’s company. I wish for you to find your soulmate when the time comes as well.” 

You and Mark both thanked him and watched the Conductor bow enough for his eyes to get the same shadow you saw the first time you met him.

But he lifted his gaze to look at you this time. Slowly, letting his long lashes fan on his cheeks for a moment.

The pupils were very deep and you imagined yourself drowning in the almost black blue of his irises. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to turn around and look at his back as he walked away to greet other passengers. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to reach and grab the fork because your hands were tightly clasped together on your lap to hide how badly they were shaking. 

_________

On your way back Mark got welcomed by his male friend group in the third Entertainment wagon. Some of them had new faces around and from their shy gazes, you assumed they met their partners already. Some were alone and in the mood to party. 

Mark invited you to stay but you decided to go back to your coach and have some rest.

You wished to be able to party like Mark did. In the end, for him that was also a well deserved holiday after spending most of his days helping his father with the lands. Many thought the same and not everyone wanted to go on the Journey to meet an actual soulmate. For a lot of people it was a nice break from studying or work and that was it. 

But you felt uneasy to be that free-spirited, and you needed time alone to understand what was going on. After all, you’ve been day dreaming about the Journey and the Train your whole life. And now that the desired moment arrived there was something off about it all.

And you couldn’t point it out. 

You’ve never felt more relieved to enter your coach and see a fluffy small bed in one of the seats’ places. You sat on it and you also found it very comfortable. How it got there you had no idea and by that time you decided to stop asking yourself questions on how that Train actually worked. 

The spring dress you chose for yourself was easy to slip into but quite hard to undo, you realized, grunting a few times as you tried to untie the light corset. When you managed to open it you exhaled deeply and you let it fall to your feet. 

Then your eyes darted towards the warning sign near the window as you slowly got under the covers.

Curiosity killed the cat but you really wanted to know what was behind those curtains and why you weren’t allowed to know. 

Before you could realize that you didn’t brush your teeth or wash your face, the train stopped and you opened your eyes in the silence. 

“Thank you for traveling with us. I wish you happiness,” the Conductor’s voice was muffled outside your window and you remembered your coach was the first near the main train entrance. 

Did someone already get off as a couple? Or was that someone who looked outside and was now forced to live alone?

You walked slowly and stealthy and you were about to turn the corner to where the entrance you came in was when the voices stopped you in place.

They were many, perhaps six different ones, thanking the Conductor and chatting away, making already plans for the future. Imagining you in their place gave you anxiety - after all they all met a few hours ago and already thought of getting married - but you were also glad they were all soulmate couples and not any forsaken person who went against the rules.

Somehow, you also felt a but envious that it has been that quick and smooth for them. 

The Conductor’s back was towards you and you looked at his long fingers behind his back as he greeted the people away. His white gloves covered them and for some reason you wondered how they looked like naked. His waist was visibly smaller than his shoulders and the spine line descended so beautifully that you felt the urge to draw him, although you were no artist. 

You shook your head trying to get rid of thouse thoughts and realized that in the meantime the chatter died down as the passengers walked towards the Station.

The Conductor was still outside, probably seeing them away for good before departing, and his scent was slowly engulfing you the more you remained in his presence.

You swallowed. How could a man smell that good? 

Then you realized you had a full-on view of the Station so you squatted down behind the corner and tried to make sense of what was outside. That was your only chance, you figured.

“You know that’s forbidden, right?” the man’s smooth voice made you jolt.

The Conductor was still standing stoically without looking back and you let your gaze fall around as to understand who he was addressing, because he definitely couldn’t have seen you. 

“Yes. I’m talking to you, Miss,” he turned around enough for you to see his relaxed expression.

You could see only half of his face and the only visible eyebrow was lifted in a way that made his gaze look- well, sexy, you realized with a certain degree of embarrassment.

You got up and took a step forwards. “Well, I am not looking out through a window, so it is not technically forbidden. There’s not a sign near the entrance telling me I can't do this.” 

The Conductor turned around fully. His lazy gaze rested on your face then slowly went down your body and stopped on your nude feet. His eyebrow lifted even more. You wigled your toes in embarrassment. 

“I forgot to bring shoes,” you mumbled, your burst of confidence suddenly dying down. 

“And a dressing gown,” he added, his pupils darting back down to your chest and hips in the almost sheer underdress you were wearing to sleep. “And some common sense,” he added, locking eyes with you. 

You crossed your arms on your chest to prevent him from looking any further. Then you lifted your chin in disdain at his last phrase. 

“That’s not very polite of you. Gentlemen avert their eyes.” 

“Tell me, Miss. What prevents me from grabbing you and making you descend here in this town with the excuse of you not following the rules?” 

You gulped. “Common sense, of course. Why would you even do that?” 

“Why not? Maybe I forgot to bring it with me the way you did coming here.” 

You let your arms fall down in anger. “That would be very inappropriate and illegal!” 

“Says who?” he smirked. “There’s no warning near the door saying I can’t do that.” 

You bit your lower lip. “I get it. I should not be here. But you can’t push me out of the train. That would be barbaric.”

The Conductor stepped back inside in one fluid movement. “Usually passengers rest in their coaches or entertain themselves with the others in an attempt to find their soulmate. They don’t go wandering about.” 

You dropped your gaze to his chest as he was getting way too close for your liking.

And when he unbuttoned his jacket, slowly, and let it slide off his shoulders and fall on yours instead, you visibly shuddered.

It was warm and big, and it smelled like him. Like that overwhelming flowery perfume.

You felt dizzy. 

“I was just curious,” you whispered, feeling like a little child being scolded. But the Conductor’s expression was warm when you dared to look at his face again.

His lips were full and plump and you felt a tight lump in your throat seeing them move. 

“Go back to sleep, Miss.” 

His deep voice rang in your head the whole time you washed your face and brushed your teeth, feeling it incredibly warm. You let his jacket fall on the seat in front of your bed but as you slid under the covers you wore it again, and nuzzled you face into the material. 

_________

In the morning, or what you felt was morning, you wore another dress you packed, a deep blue one you instinctively chose with little black flowers around the crown of it. 

Some people were walking against you in the corridor and you could audibly hear them stop their breathing as you locked eyes.

They were wondering if you were their soulmate.

Yesterday you would have walked slowly and looked around shyly as well, but today all you wanted to do was to bring the Conductor his jacket back and all of those people were just in your way. 

You were about to start pushing against people’s shoulders when Mark’s head pocked out of a coach and his ruffled hair made you realized he just woke up.

Not in his bed. 

“Mark Lee!” you stopped in place. 

“Fuck,” he blinked at you. “You out of all people. I mean, so nice to see you-”

“Did you find your soul-”

Mark exited the coach quickly and closed the door behind him. “Shh,” he was about to place one hand on your mouth but then looked at it and put it behind his back instead. 

“Let’s not- do not say anything.” 

You blinked at him. “Are you telling me that-” 

“Maybe,” he interrupted you again. “Listen, people here are gorgeous. There’s no need to save myself for marriage or anything.” 

Your jaw fell. “Mark Lee, did you just sleep with some random woman?” 

He scratched one eyebrow. “Did I offend your sensibility?” 

“You’re just some man, aren’t you?” you looked him up and down. “Whatever. Have fun,” you rolled your eyes and started to walk again. “And wash that hand, would you?” 

“How do you even know-” 

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” you turned around to quickly let your tongue out at him. 

“Is that the Conductor’s jacket?” he asked before you could exit the car. 

“No? I just found it around,” you answered quickly, leaving him behind with his questions. 

The Conductor said you had no common sense but you had enough common sense to know that being seen around with his jacket would somehow be a mistake. He was the one who didn’t have the common sense to know to not send you to bed with it. 

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t realize how far up the train you arrived and when the cars started to be empty safe for storage items you stopped in place to catch your breath.

It was very silent up there, the only sound coming from the rails outside and the steam locomotive. 

You were close. And you had no idea why you knew that. 

The walk towards the locomotive was slow and the spaces less fancy. Some coaches were on your right and you wondered if perhaps the Conductor was in one of them.

Or maybe you were stupid and he was way back in the train, doing his job. 

When you felt like that damned train didn’t even have an end, in front of you a big dark door with a skull on it indicating some type of danger opened and the swish of fresh flowers made you close your eyes for a moment. 

The Conductor’s head was tilted to the side as if amused. 

“I see that this time you’re decently dressed,” he said, the his gaze fell on your chest. “Almost.”

You gulped and put on a brave expression. “I came to give you this back. Thank you.” 

The man looked at the jacket you were holding and reached towards it slowly. His fingertips touched your knuckles for a brief moment and it made you so tense that you felt your head pulsating. 

“You could have rung the bell. There was no need to come all the way up here.” 

You let the air come out your nostrils. “You always scold me. You should be thankful I brought this back to you.” 

“I am scolding you because you keep taking the most convoluted decisions instead of the straight forward ones.” 

The informal conversation and the lack of Miss from his part made you nervous so you tried to look around his shoulder to see if any staff, or worse, the train driver could hear it.

Although you found his tone aggravating you didn’t want him to lose his job or anything. 

“So you didn’t make me come because you were curious to see the Locomotive instead,” the Conductor added, seeing you snoop your nose around.

You straightened your back. “I was just trying to see if someone was listening to your inappropriate comments towards a passenger and a lady.” 

The Conductor smiled and took a step to the side. “No one is here.” 

For a second you forgot about him, the curiosity of how that Train actually worked exciting you more. “Who drives this then?” you stepped in and looked around the small space. 

“No one,” the man explained and his breath caressed the back of your neck. When you looked behind your shoulder you realized he was staring at the goosebumps on your exposed skin. 

“Why is there a chair here, then?” you cleared your throat and walked around it. 

The Conductor wore his jacket and put his hands on the back of the big chair. “I like to sit here and look outside.” 

You lifted your gaze towards the small window in front of you. You hadn’t even realized you could see outside. 

“Do you want to try and sit down?” he asked. 

You bit your lower lip. “Would that be alright?” 

“I thought you didn’t care for rules,” he smirked. 

You lifted your chin and sat down. It wasn’t much, just the railroad in front of you and some trees on each side. But it was peaceful and your curiosity got fully fed.

Now you wondered when it was the time to be killed like a cat. 

“Why are you really here, Miss?” 

The Conductor’s voice was so close to your ear that your spine curved. But you didn’t move away. 

“Don’t-” you gulped. “Don’t flatter yourself or anything. I came here because I was curious and I had to give your jacket back.”

His index finger touched one of your hairs near the ear and you jolted in place, moving your head away. The man was smiling. He was holding a small feather that was probably stuck there. 

“I hope you’re satisfied at all times, Miss,” he replied. “And I am here to make sure all of your future needs are fulfilled as well.” 

That tone and those polite words were meant to be professional yet your mind went to Mark’s ruffled hair and half naked body. You imagined the Conductor’s dark hair on your pillow and his scent engulfing you all as his touch made your spine curve. And his hand, would he also use his hands on you like Mark did with his woman?

You shook the thoughts out of your head and got up quickly, feeling it hard to breathe in that narrow space. 

“Thank you. I will leave now,” you voice was wavering and if he noticed it he didn’t say anything about it. 

“I hope you have a pleasant journey,” he wished as you exited the car. 

He didn’t mention anything about finding a soulmate this time. 

__________

Your scent lingered on Haechan’s body the whole day.

It was in his hair, his nostrils, his skin, around his neck and his hands. He wondered if you slept with his jacket the whole night and the thought of your naked body pressed against the material of it made him almost knock heads with a passenger. 

“Good day to you, Sir,” he tilted his hat last minute.

The young man barely noticed him, as his eyes were directed towards another person in the corner of the car.

Haechan was very acustomed to that gaze. He saw it every day for the past few years - the look of someone madly in love at first sight. 

That was how your eyes looked like the first instant he saw you on the platform waiting for the Train.

Waiting for him. 

He wondered how that gaze looked on his face but he was sure you didn’t notice it.

He wasn’t even sure it was there in the first place. 

His instincts got the best of him and he worked on autopilot. Polite face, good smile, distance.

Hell, he even took the sign away from your windows for five minutes. But then you almost opened the damn curtains - as he intended for you to - and he realized he couldn’t physically let you go.

It was probably a mistake, he thought the first seconds of seeing you. He took the job of the Conductor because his old grandpa couldn’t work anymore. Haechan lived on that train since he could remember. It was always him and his old grandpa, in the middle of the swarm of people looking for soulmates. It made him sick to death to see all that love around him. 

I wish you didn’t hate your parents for falling in love, Haechan, his grandpa used to say.

But it would have been different if they fell in love with each other.

But they didn’t. 

The boy has been told the tale of his family of Conductors many times. It was a curse, they said. No one in his family had soulmates and they were tasked with assisting the Train instead. 

How did you and grandma decide to be together then? small Haechan asked at the time. 

Sometimes you just choose who to spend your life with. This is how your parents met as well. Your father came on this train often and never met his soulmate. Your mother understood he might be a good husband choice so she approached him and that’s how they got together. 

But then dad met another woman on the train and left my mom. 

The grandpa sighed deeply. He just met his soulmate. He didn’t do anything wrong. 

Haechan as a child couldn’t know what to say to that.

He knew something was not right but he didn’t have the vocabulary to argue back.

But as a teenager he finally understood. 

He abandoned my mom, your daughter, and he abandoned me. Don’t speak about that man ever again. 

Haechan’s grandpa would only sigh and pat his shoulder. You’re growing into a fine young man. I am proud of you. And I am sorry that happened. When you’ll meet your person you’ll understand their choices. 

I will never understand it because I don’t have a soulmate. And I surely as hell won’t marry a woman that might meet her rightful soulmate years later and leave me.

Your grandma never left me, he used to remind him. And I wish for you to have children. Who’s going to assist this Train otherwise? 

To hell with this fucking Train, Haechan would explode and run away. 

He didn’t hate the Train.

It was his home.

So when he’d calm down, sitting on the outside metal stairs and looking at the scenery no one besides him and grandpa were allowed to see, he’d realize he didn’t hate his parents either.

His mom remarried and left the Train after dad left.

Haechan wasn’t sure if she was actually in love although from her letters she seemed happy, but the memories of her time closed off in a coach on the verge of death were still haunting him. Haechan stopped reading his father’s letters altogether and started to burn them in the Locomotive. 

A young woman approached him and Haechan shook off the memories and the convoluted thoughts about you from his head. 

“How may I help you, Miss?” he placed his hands behind his back with the best custom service expression plastered on his face. 

The woman seemed embarrassed. 

“If you need anything, please, don’t hesitate to ask me,” he tried to reassure her. 

She inhaled and took a step forward. Haechan leaned down to hear her better. “Well, you know how you said the coaches makes appear everything that you want? I was-, well, I met a man and- I know he’s not my soulmate but it’s not against the rules and we’re doing fine together for now and we were well, we were wondering how to make- how not to-” 

“Get pregnant?” Haechan simply asked and the woman’s pale face turned purple from embarrassment.

She surely didn’t expect him to be that straightforward. “Usually if you really don’t want that to happen, it doesn't,” Haechan continued. “If you’ve encountered difficulties then maybe you or your partner have-,” he interrupted himself. “-a breeding kink?” 

The young woman placed her palms to her cheeks and gave him a little bow. “I understand. I think I need to go now, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” 

“You just have to-” Haechan tried again but the woman already ran away. 

“I see I’m not the only one you’re being not so professional with,” a voice made him turn around. 

__________

You were on your way for lunch. Or dinner? You lost track of time. You’ve been on that Train for less than 24 hours yet you felt like a lifetime already passed. To think you had to stay there until meeting your soulmate made you almost throw up. 

“I thought you were very excited to meet your soulmate,” Mark commented that morning, eyes closed under the fake sun in the fake seaside car.

You sighed. 

“I am.”

You were.

Or you thought you were. But somehow you lost interest. You imagined yourself inside the Train for so long that the moment you actually got on it it all lost meaning. 

And how was it possible that none of the men looked interesting enough to even have a mere conversation? The only ones approaching you were trying to get under your dress and you soon realized that romance was not the way you imagined it to be. 

“You don’t sound like excited. It’s as if you can’t wait to get off of here,” he opened one eye then turned to his side to see you better. “If you haven’t met the one yet, then what about enjoying it to the fullest until you can? It’s a place with free food and entertainment.” 

You gave him the side eye. “I do not intend to sleep around with random men. I’m a lady.” 

Mark rolled his eyes. “I’m also a gentleman and going down on people doesn’t make me less gentle.”

You almost spat your water. The Train somehow made everyone change or it opened your innocent eyes because you had no idea your childhood friend had that side of him. 

“Did you really not find anyone who’s kinda attractive? You don’t even have to know his name,” he insisted. 

Actually, there was a man whose name you didn’t know who you found very attractive. That was probably the worst part of that experience. Was it normal to be attracted to the Conductor like that? 

You shook your head. “Nonsense. I will wait for my soulmate. And no, no one around is attractive enough.” 

Mark exhaled and went back to his previous position. “I just don’t like seeing you sad.” 

“I’m not sad.” 

“Then angry.” 

“I’m not angry.” 

“You’re angry now.” 

“Because you’re pissing me off,” you sat up. “I’m going to eat.” 

You were already too confused for your liking. You didn’t need Mark Lee to investigate further.

The desire to have a soulmate was still there deep inside, the longiness and the need, yet for some reason you also felt numb to everything around you. 

Still feeling like Mark rubbed you the wrong way you almost missed the figures of the Conductor leaning down to whisper in a young gorgeous’ woman’s ear in the middle of the Library wagon. 

The woman seemed scandalized and so red that she looked like a tomato. The Conductor’s face was unfazed but a bit confused as she ran away. 

“I see I’m not the only one you’re being not so professional with,” you couldn’t help but say. 

The car was empty safe for the two of you and when he turned around you smelled his ever present scent.

It drove you insane. What kind of damn cologne was that man wearing?

“What do you go flirting with passengers for?” you crossed your arms on your chest. Maybe Mark was right and you were actually angry but seeing the Conductor’s face just added to the whole irritation, especially catching him flirting with your shy women. 

The Conductor tilted his head to the side as if genuinely surprised but also intrigued at your reaction. 

“What if someone else besides me saw you? What would happen to your position and reputation?” you went on. 

The man took his time to open his mouth and talk. “I don’t understand if you’re mad at me or if you’re worried for me.”

You lifted your chin. “Maybe both.” 

“It takes a good amount of care for both. Do you care about me?” 

He took a few steps towards you and the closeness made his voice quieter. 

You didn’t let him intimidate you with his charm. 

“I was raised a lady of good principles and seeing the Conductor of a Train meant to help people find their soulmates flirt with its passengers is not appropriate and I have to speak on it.” 

The Conductor’s smile widened. “And lurking at the time of descent in a skimpy night gown and nude feet is appropriate?”

His dark blue eyes were more stormy than usual and the moles on his face reminded you of the nightsky above you as you were waiting for the Train. 

“Coming all the way to my coach with a dizzying cleavage is appropriate?” 

His voice was so deep and close that you had to avert your gaze to catch your breath. 

“Shaking like this in my presence and being unable to look me in the face is appropriate?” he whispered so close to your lips that you inhaled and took a few steps back. 

“You’re also here to find a soulmate, Miss. Concentrate on doing that and leave other people’s business to themselves,” he added in his usual calm voice and walking around you he left you breathless and alone in the middle of the Library. 

________

Haechan reached for his tie to undo the knot and he realized his fingers were slightly shaking.

Your scent made him more on edge than usual and the fact he could still smell you on his jacket made him unreasonable mad.

And your face and expression, your hurt eyes seeng him talk to that woman, as if you were jealous, was driving him insane.

What were you thinking roaming around him like that? With your delicate blue dress and your cleavage moving up and down in that damn corset with every quick breath your took? 

He should have let you move the curtains and never see you again. 

Haechan walked the distance from the entrance door of the car to the Bar and without caring about anyone he walked behind it and poured himself a shot of whiskey. 

“Hard day?” a voice made him sigh deeply before turning around. 

He forced himself to smile. “I am not in service right now,” he lied to excuse his drinking on the job. 

The young man waved his hand. “No one would care anyway. They’re either on a date or uhh fucking.” 

“Would you like one?” Haechan indicated the bottle, ignoring the man’s choice of words.

The other nodded. “I’m Jeno.” 

He expected Haechan’s name in return but the Conductor never tells his name to passengers. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay,” Haechan said instead, pushing a glass towards Jeno. 

The latter took it and winced after downing it. “I’m not here for that. I’m actually a journalist.” 

Haechan fought the urge to roll his eyes. There was one of two of them every year trying to gather some kind of hidden information about the Train. Haechan also thought there were some secrets about it growing up but it was a pretty straight forward thing. Just a Train in which you can meet your soulmate. Nothing more.

Well, that until he met you and your scent got under his skin. 

“Is there something specific you’re writing about?” Haechan politely asked. 

“Is it true that soulmates understand they’re soulmates because of each other’s scent?” he asked, and a writing pad materialized in front of him. 

Haechan eyed his pen ready to take notes then his face. “You should ask the passengers. I am not someone who has a soulmate.” 

“So it’s true that the Conductor has no soulmate.” 

“Yes. It’s not a secret.” 

Jeno nodded, not writing anything as if that wasn’t the information he was actually seeking out of him. 

“My parents said there’s no such thing as scent. They’re also divorced,” he said. 

Haechan sighed. Another young man hurt by that Train and his parents. “Sometimes people come here and go home together even if they’re not sure they’re actual soulmates. Maybe your parents mistook their union for a soulmate bond but it was just infatuation.” 

“Shouldn’t this place guarantee a soulmate union?” Jeno asked. He looked very angry and Haechan could understand why. “What’s the purpose of this Train then? Let people choose each other on land at this point.” 

“It’s called free choice. The Train knows who’s an actual soulmate pair and usually it doesn’t stop for couples who are not actually bonded. This is why the train is not stopping now for all the people who are- uh, fucking.” Haechan was too exhausted to choose a more gentlemanly term for that. 

Jeno didn’t seem to care. “Then why did it stop for my parents?” 

“They probably insisted for it to stop. The Train doesn’t go against the free choice.” 

Jeno poured another shot, gave it to Haechan and took a deep gulp straight from the bottle. 

“Nice chat, Conductor. Can I ask to leave now?” 

Haechan kept quiet for a moment. “You should stay until you meet someone or until the Journey comes to an end. If you leave now you will not be allowed to come back.” 

“There’s no such thing,” Jeno whispered and got up, walking towards the windows. With one quick hand he moved the curtains away. The Train stopped slowly on its tracks and Haechan sighed. 

“Please follow me. I’ll escort you to the exit for going against the rules."

__________

Is it true that soulmates understand they’re soulmates because of each other’s scent?

That phrase has been haunting you for the following hours.

You were rolling in bed from the moment you decided to try and sleep after pacing your coach for a while.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

You didn’t even mean to follow the Conductor but his pace was urgent and the curiosity still hasn’t killed you, especially after that heated conversation you had in the Library.

Shaking in his presence and being unable to look him in the face? He could see that? What was going on and why were you feeling like committing the biggest crime you could think of?

No, why was the Conductor with his deep eyes and his pillowy lips and his smooth voice the only thing you could think of when you were on that dam Train to find your soulmate?

The Conductor walked towards the Bar and you remained back in the smaller corridor, watching his throat gulp that brown liquid like it was water. Why did he look so upset? Was it you? Or was it his missed opportunity with that lady that you interrupted?

You felt stupid spying him like that and you were about to turn around and walk away when the voice of a second man made you stop in your tracks. 

I’m actually a journalist, the man said and you wondered what the Conductor would say back. Would he accept to give the journalist information?

Is it true that soulmates understand they’re soulmates because of each other’s scent? You felt your blood turn to ice. What did he mean by that? Scents? Your parents didn’t tell you anything about that. 

But then the following exchange of information made you feel even worse. 

You should ask the passengers. I am not someone who has a soulmate.

So it’s true that the Conductor has no soulmate.

Yes. It’s not a secret.

Mark looked like a baby chick with his hair ruffled around his face. But you could tell it was from simple sleeping and not messing around with someone’s daughter’s insides. 

You pushed him back into his coach after he opened the door and you sat down. 

“Wow, when I told you to look around and decide who to fuck I didn’t think that someone would be-” 

You interrupted him. “Mark, tell me everything you know about the Train, soulmates, and-” you stopped for a second, “the Conductor.” 

Mark blinked hard as if unable to keep his eyes open and laid back in his bed. “It’s the middle of the night.” 

“Actually I’ve been trying to keep track of the time and it should be middle of the afternoon.” 

“Well, everything here is fucked and for me it’s middle of the night. Why are you so curious all of a sudden?” 

You sighed and relaxed in the dark red velvety couch. “Have you ever heard of people feeling their soulmate’s scent more that other people’s?” 

Mark hummed, one hand to scratch his forehead. “Yes. Johnny talked about it but at the time I thought it was something stupid people in love notice about each other. He said his partner smelled like patchouli and warm spices.” 

You lifted your legs up to warm them under your night gown. “And your parents?” 

“Dad said mom smells like lavender and mom said dad smells like woody herbal amber or something like that,” he chuckled, shaking his head. 

He then opened his eyes and got up to sit, mirroring you. “Why? Did you meet someone whose scent is intense for you?” 

You wondered if telling him the truth. “No, I just-” you played with a loose string along the hem of your gown, “I overheard a man talking about his parents never mentioning any scent and they’re divorced now.” 

Mark leaned forwards. “Are you worried that your parents are not real soulmates since they also never mentioned scents?”

Actually that didn’t even cross your head but you realized that might be a possibility. You didn’t want your parents to divorce or anything. 

“Oh, come on. I’m sure that’s not the case at all,” Mark came to sit beside you and wrapped your shoulders with his arms. You weren’t there because of your parents but Mark felt warm and comfortable to lean on so you didn’t correct him. 

“What about the Conductor?” he then asked and you hoped he couldn’t feel the way you tensioned in his hold. “What did you want to know?” 

You gulped and sat straight, letting Mark’s arms fall to your waist instead. “I’ve heard he doesn't have a soulmate.” 

Mark nodded. “I’ve heard that too. Honestly I thought he would be some kind of very ancient man. At least, my parents said he’s very old, but maybe this is a new one.” 

You kept quiet, biting your lower lip. 

“What is it that you’re not telling me?” Mark whispered. 

You lifted your gaze and his big sparkly eyes gave you the courage to open your mouth. 

“If the Conductor has no soulmate, and soulmates feel each other’s scent, then why do I feel the Conductor’s scent everywhere I go?” 

________

After Mark collected his jaw from the floor and you kept him up brainstorming the whole night, you met both early in the morning over breakfast to further discuss the possibility of you and the Conductor being soulmates. 

“Not to put you down or anything,” he repeated, “but I’ve never heard of anyone bonding with the Conductor.” 

You sighed staring down your coffee with no desire to drink it but knowing it would wake you up. 

“I know, Mark, this is why I’m so dumbfounded.”

“I mean, also the original Conductor was a mummy of an old man. Maybe that’s why no one bonded with him. Maybe he was married already and that's how the rumour of him not having a soulmate started.”

You had a sip of the bitter liquid and winced. You were glad Mark was playing devil’s advocate with himself because you had no more force to discuss all the different points of view. 

“I don’t even think it matters. He warned me multiple times to leave him alone and find a soulmate. How would being soulmates with him even work? Where would the Train stop? Would I be forced to stay here? Being the Conductress? Forever?” you felt like descending into madness. 

“Listen, calm down. I think the solution is to check it myself first. We find him, I smell him. If it’s just his high quality cologne then you can put your mind at ease.” 

You didn’t want to ask what would happen if he couldn’t smell anything but maybe your desperate eyes told him your feelings because he sighed.

“And if I don’t smell anything, I try to rizz him up and I’ll be like dang you look like you know your cologne. Can you show me your collection? And I go to his coach and I smell all of the bottles and if it’s any of them we know it’s just his perfume and not his actual scent.” 

You opened your mouth. 

“And-” he interrupted lifting one finger, “if it’s none of them then we will come back here and brainstorm together. He’s an attractive man. Maybe you’re just sexually attracted to him. I bet that if you tried and fucked-”

“I will not fuck the Conductor,” you said, perhaps too loudly. You both looked around. 

You lowered your voice. “I don’t know what’s going on but having that kind of relation with him doesn’t sound like a good idea.” 

Mark leaned back in his chair. “Okay then. I’ll start by going on with my plan then we’ll see.”

You exhaled and nodded once. “That sounds like such a stupid plan.” 

Mark’s smile widened. “At least something fun is happening in this stupid Train besides drinking and sleeping around.” 

________

Haechan finished his morning routine walk across all wagons and sighed looking at his pocket watch. Soon everyone would be done with breakfast and would go about their business. He had to go and assist in the enternatinment wagons in some time as well. 

Then he felt a pair of eyes on his back and lifted one eyebrow. 

“What can I do for you, sir?” he turned around to see your little friend fake confidence leaning on a wall.

If Haechan didn’t know better he’d think the young man was trying to flirt. 

“Oh, hello there Conductor. Or maybe I should say-” Mark stopped his phrase as if waiting for Haechan to say his name. 

“Conductor is fine,” he smiled, joining his gloved hands together in front of him. 

“Right right. I will not push any boundaries. I was just wondering, like from a gentleman to another gentleman, if you can aid me choosing a cologne.” 

Whatever Haechan expected that man to say it wasn’t that.

He had to suppress a laugh. 

“A cologne, sir?” 

Mark walked around him casually. “I mean, I am here to meet a soulmate and I thought damn what if I don’t smell good? That’s my biggest fear actually, you know?” he put his hand on the chest to convey how intensely he felt about not smelling good. 

“When you’ll meet your soulmate, sir, they will think you smell like their favourite scent, so no need to worry.” 

Mark stopped in his tracks and his stupid fake expression fell. “You said soulmates smell like their favourite scents just now?” 

Haechan exhaled. “That’s what I said, sir.” He really hated repeating himself. 

Mark kept looking at him so Haechan was about to excuse himself and bid the weird man farewell but then the awareness of his behaviour washed over him like a cold wave and he stopped in place.

Haechan lifted his gaze and met Mark’s intense black eyes. 

“Are you not curious why I am asking you about scents, Mister Conductor?” his voice suddenly became lower. 

“I am not a curious man, sir,” Haechan straightened his tie with the intention of leaving. He didn’t like where all of that was going.

But Mark took a step to the side, blocking his way. 

“So what’s your favourite scent?”

Haechan fought the urge to grab the dude and physically move him away. “I like clean and fresh scents, sir.” 

“And what does Y/N smell like?”

Haechan put his tongue in the cheek and flared his nostrils. “I wouldn’t know.”

_________

Mark thought about keeping this all a secret from you. Being soulmates with the Conductor of the Soulmates Train didn’t sound like a great time. It was like falling in love with Death when it comes to kill you. But he wasn’t going to be a bad friend. 

He told you to wait in the Seaside wagon in hopes you could relax hearing the sea waves, but when he entered he found you fidgeting instead. 

“How did it go?” you walked up to him but he exhaled and dragged you towards the lounge chairs.

He didn’t know what you wanted to hear, if confirmation that the Conductor was your soulmate, or if you wanted nothing to do with him. 

“First of all, he doesn’t smell like anything to me,” Mark said. “He just has a normal clean person scent. Like any other person.” 

You swallowed and inhaled shakily, letting the information sink in. 

“Second of all, he said soulmates smell like each other’s favourite scents.” 

You opened your mouth but nothing came out of it.

“What does he smell like to you, Y/N? Is it flowers?” 

Mark knew you’ve always loved that scent. The sweet but fresh perfume of flowers with their infinite colours. 

He didn’t need you to answer, he saw it in your pupils. You watched Mark close his eyes for a moment and exhale then open them again. 

“It’s not all,” he said. “He behaved weirdly when I mentioned you. I have a hunch that he can sense your scent as well.” 

________

I think you should talk about it together, Mark suggested, but you couldn’t just do that, could you? He was the Conductor after all. Such thing was impossible. 

Also, for how much you loved Mark, risking such improper behaviour only because of a hunch was too much for you. 

You thought you were afraid of not finding a soulmate. Growing up that has been your everlasting fear; yet your brain has never even taken into consideration the perspective of finding your soulmate in a man you could not have. 

For how much you’ve been wanting to see him, bump into him, or exchange a few stupid words to each other in the past days, your felt the same equal amount of desire to avoid him at all costs. 

You thought you wanted Mark to come back and tell you that it was just the Conductor’s overbearing cologne. You wanted him to say he smelt it too and that is confirmation that he couldn’t possibly be your soulmate.

Yet when he fed your idea that the Conductor might be your man the relief was so intense that you almost cried. 

It drove you insane. 

The following days you haven’t seen the Conductor once. Perhaps the encounter with Mark made him uncomfortable and he decided to avoid you as well. What if he though you were some kind of creep? He did warn you to leave him alone and concentrate on finding a soulmate instead. Was it possible to have a one sided soulmate? 

Somehow you felt like that situation was all your fault. Maybe that was the death moment of the curiousity saying, because you kinda felt like dying slowly if you thought about any other man. Maybe if you didn’t go to see the descending moment, maybe if you didn’t sleep with his jacket, maybe if you didn’t go and find him in the Locomotive, maybe if you didn’t confront him in the Library, you wouldn’t feel like that.

Maybe maybe maybe. 

“I know this is not good friend advice, but you could get your mind off of him by, you know, using someone else,” Mark shrugged, peeling an apple with a knife.

You sighed, pulling your summer hat lower on your eyes. The seaside car soon became you and Mark’s favourite. “You know what? Maybe you’re right.” 

“You finally gave in my temptation?” he wigled his eyebrows. 

“Yes. You’re the little devil sitting on my shoulder.” 

Mark cut a piece of apple and ate it off the knife. “I can introduce you to some fine gentlemen.” 

You snorted. “I saw the gentlemen you have around Mark Lee.” 

“And? Are they not fine?” 

“You can have them.” 

Mark rolled his eyes. “Do you want to have fun or not?” 

“I do. But I’m not sure if fucking random men is what I consider peak of amusement,” you replied. Mark didn’t say anything so you kept going. “Although, I noticed that the light brow hair man is not bad. I think his name is Jaehyun. He has nice hands and a great smile. I do enjoy a good dimple.” 

You expected Mark to laugh at you but he remained quiet safe for a little nudge he gave you. You sighed. “The other J name man is not bad either. He’s tall and he looks gentle like a puppy.” 

“Uhm,” Mark said and nudged you again. 

“What? You said I should sleep with one of them,” you slid away the hat to give him a venomous side eye when your mouth dropped open. 

Mark was looking at you with a little tight smile and in front of you, almost covering the artificial sun of the wagon, was standing the Conductor. 

“I apologize, Miss. I didn’t want to interrupt your- uh lovely monologue,” he tilted his stupid hat. 

You sat up feeling your body on fire. Then you looked at Mark who gave you a small apologetic smile. 

Your mouth was dry and you had no idea what was the appropriate thing to say to someone who overheard you talk about fornication. 

His scent should have told you he was there, but maybe you got so used to it that you were feeling it everywhere, messing with your perceptions. 

“Good day, sir,” you stupidly said. 

“I was just making sure you’re enjoying your stay,” the Conductor looked at you first, then Mark. “From your conversation I assume everything is fine.” His eyes looked black in the shadow and the little line between his eyebrow looked like a crack in his otherwise perfect face.

You gulped and bit your lower lip. 

“Just a precaution. I told this the lady that stopped me in the Library the other day also, if you remember. As a contraceptive, please make sure to strongly desire to not get pregnant, so the Train can take care of you.” 

________

The fact that useless friend of yours ambushed him like that told Haechan that you probably felt his scent everywhere as well.

And you must have spoken about it in such a way that made Mark investigate.

It made Haechan’s fingers tingle and they’d tingle ever more when he’d slid them underneath his covers at night, and fuck his fist to the image of you until he had to push his face into the pillow to muffle his groans. 

Everything was a mess and for the first time in his life Haechan didn’t know what to do. 

The letter he wrote his grandpa asking for advice was still unsent, looking at him from his desk.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to expose himself like that to his family. His grandpa would be nothing but supportive.

I knew you’d find a partner. See, now you understand it. It makes sense how your parents felt, doesn’t it?

Because no. Haechan didn’t understand it and his parents’ behaviour still didn’t make sense to him. Also, he hated to hear others say I told you so. 

But also, his family never mentioned the possibility of a full-on soulmate. They said someone random. Someone that couldn’t find anyone else. Someone who would accept Haechan as a second choice. 

He rolled in bed, the stickiness of his desire still coating his hand. Then he huffed and got up to wash.

His desire. It was such a foreign feeling to him to leave him breathless.

Yet it felt so familiar that he felt like he could finally breathe deeply. It felt like things were finally right, like he was finally home. 

That morning he didn’t follow with his duties thoroughly as usual. The Train stopped twice and he looked behind his shoulder to check whether you were there, in your skimpy underdress and nude feet.

But you weren’t. 

He tried to ignore you for the past few days and apparently you were doing the same. 

Yet, he could feel your scent in the whole Train, as if you’ve just left the wagon he entered.

He wondered if you felt him everywhere as well. 

In the afternoon, he couldn’t take it anymore so he followed the trail. He would just give you a short look, something to further fuel his autodestructive night fantasies. 

You were in the Seaside car, as usual, your dress ridden up your thighs on that chaise longue and Haechan wondered how could Mark concentrate on cutting that apple without cutting his finger when you looked like that besides him. 

“I know this is not good friend advice, but you could get your mind off of him by, you know, using someone else,” Mark shrugged. 

Haechan stopped in place. He wasn’t eavesdropping. You were talking loudly enough for everyone to hear. But he didn’t want you to sense him.

You wanted to get your mind off of whom? Haechan?

“You know what? Maybe you’re right,” you replied and Haechan tightened his fist in his white glove. The image of you sleeping with someone else suddenly appeared in front of Haechan’s irises made the seaside car look like the north pole instead. 

“You finally gave in my temptation?” that useless fellow asked and Haechan has never wanted to have a fist fight with a passenger more.

Of course, he wondered already if Mark was your soulmate and you both dumb idiots didn’t notice.

Maybe that’s why Mark even inquired about scents in the first place.

But why was Haechan sensing your scent if you were taken and why did the Train not stop for you two if that was the case?

Could the Conductors curse be that cruel? Making Haechan fall in love with a woman he could not have?

“I can introduce you to some fine gentlemen,” Mark said and Haechan didn’t know if he should feel relieved Mark wasn’t offering himself for your entertainment or be jealous at the idea of someone else touching you. 

He decided to intervene. 

“I do. But I’m not sure if fucking random men is what I consider peak of amusement,” you replied right when Mark lifted his gaze and a piece of apple fell from his mouth on the fine sand at his feet.

Haechan gave him a venomous look and opened his mouth to interrupt your scandalous monologue. 

But you went on. “Although, I noticed that the light brow hair man is not bad. I think his name is Jaehyun. He has nice hands and a great smile. I do enjoy a good dimple.” 

Haechan felt his jaw muscles twitch. “The other J name man is not bad either. He’s tall and he looks gentle like a puppy,” you continued. 

Mark had the decency to look scared. 

“I apologize, Miss. I didn’t want to interrupt your lovely monologue,” Haechan finally said as you finally realized what was going on. 

He came there like a thirsty man to have a single drop of water and you were thinking of sleeping with other men instead.

Haechan felt like stopping the Train and descending himself. 

Your eyes were glossy when you looked up at him, maybe from the sun but also from the embarrassment.

Haechan felt like making you feel even worse. 

________

Your gaze followed the Conductor’s spine as he exited the wagon and you let a single pained whine as you burrowed your face into your palms. 

“Mark Lee.” 

The poor Mark got up and away from you as if he could sense you might take your frustration out on him. 

“It’s not my fault.” 

You let your hands fall in your lap. “Now he thinks I’m a whore.” 

“I don’t think that changes anything. You don’t need his opinion or approval.” 

You got up with another whine. “He ignored me for days and now that he approached me again he overheard me talk about who of your friends I might fuck.” 

Mark finished his apple. “Hey. Wasn’t that your intention? Getting rid of him? Forgetting him?” 

You exhaled.

Yes, but why did it feel so bad?

_______

They all eyed you the following night - the first ball party of the season, the little card said.

This time the ink didn’t smudge when it appeared on your nightstand out of thin air and it didn’t look like it was written by hand.

One detail made you bite your lower lip. Wear masks, the card said.

The car that was hosting it was huge and you realized it must have been some sort of optical illusion to make the space feel so big. The center was empty and you assumed it was for dancing. Most people were standing near the refreshment tables or near the walls and the exciting but nervous air made your skin shiver. Everyone from the train was there and you realized it was the perfect moment to meet a soulmate. 

With uncertain feet in your high heels you reached towards the drinks but the glasses didn’t move from the tray. 

“You need to say what you want and the glass unglues itself,” the Conductor said and his long fingers appeared in front of you. They wrapped the leg of a glass. “Champagne,” he said and the glass remained in his hand. 

You didn’t dare to look at him. “I didn’t know Conductors were allowed to drink,” you tried, remembering the time he felt the need to have that wiskey shot in the bar. 

“How do you know I am the Conductor?” he asked. His voice was low but light and amused. 

You turned around quickly to see a black mask, leaving nothing but an anonymous jawline and a pair of lips. His hair was covered by a silver crown and in his elegant suit no one could have noticed who he was.

But you did.

You cursed at yourself.

The Conductor leaned closer. “Is it because of my scent?” he whispered. 

You gulped and looked away towards the drinks tray. 

“So you admit it,” you murmured, wondering if someone was looking at you. 

“Admit what?” he asked. 

The crowd of people cheered and you assumed a new couple formed.

The intermission helped you cool your head. 

“I don’t know the names of all the drinks,” you changed subject. 

The Conductor didn’t seem surprised. “Which one do you want?”

“I don’t know. The least dangerous looking one.” 

“Bubbles,” he ordered and then gave you the glass full of sparkly liquid. It smelled fruity. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

“Do you always go for the least dangerous looking thing?” he turned around and looked towards the hall.

Some brave couples started to dance and you enjoyed the way the ladies gowns flowed under the golden lights. 

“Yes.” 

“Are you sure?” he smiled once before taking a sip of his drink. 

“Yes,” you took a sip of your bubbles as well. They buzzed on your tongue. 

“So you didn’t avoid me because you were afraid of me the past few days.” 

It wasn’t a question.

“You knew where to find me if you wanted to see one of your passengers. This is your Train.” 

The Conductor let his gaze fall on your face. “I did find you. You were talking about very interesting arguments.”

You gimaced, thinking of the Seaside Wagon incident. “It was just talk. I did not-” you started to explain the you realized how stupid it sounded trying to justify your actions, or non-actions, to him. 

The Conductor sipped from his drink in silence. You couldn’t read his face normally, and with that mask you really had no idea what he was thinking. 

“Are you upset I didn’t contact you all of these days?” he asked instead. "It was my understanding you were trying to forget someone by engaging in those actions and I am self centred enough to think that someone was me."

His honesty left you breathless. You considered lying. Admitting it would have been too humiliating. “No. I understand why you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me.” 

“Which is?” 

“I look like a crazy woman who claims you’re her soulmate because you smell like flowers,” you blurted out before realizing what you just said.

Your hands in your white lacey gloves started to shake. 

The man remained quiet for a moment then he chuckled. “Really? I smell that nice to you?” 

You exhaled. “This is not a laughing matter.”

The Conductor analyzed your expression. “I apologize. I didn’t realize how this made you feel.” 

His tone gave you the courage to look him in the eyes. Even behind the mask they looked alive, torbid like the dark deep sea. 

But looking was a mistake. 

“I suppose it’s something common for you,” you inhaled, starting to hate the everlasting flowers perfume surrounding him. “Women with soulmate claims over you, that is,” you explained. 

The Conductor looked in front of himself and took another sip. “Yes. I am a charming man afterall.” 

You hated him. Was he punishing you? Or did he actually not care about you at all?

“Well, I avoided you because I wanted to say I had no claims. Take this as a compliment on you smelling decently and let’s move on.” 

“And what moving on means for you?” he inquired. 

“Acting as normal Train Conductor and Passenger,” you took another sip of your bubbles. It started to taste too sour. 

“Tonight many couples will make the Train stop,” he announced. “Would you like to see?” 

You turned towards him and you locked eyes. “Does that sound like normal Conductor and Passenger behaviour to you?” 

The young man laughed at your scolding. “I just know you’re curious.” 

“Why would you be kind to me like that? Do you want to push me out of the Train as you’ve expressed your interests towards doing before?” 

“I wouldn’t mind getting rid of you actually,” he joked and you could tell he didn’t mean it.

But the tears that secretly collected in your eyes during that conversation were close to falling to your cheeks. You left his side quickly but not before hearing him call out your name. 

________

Y/N. 

For some reason you thought he didn’t even know the names of every passenger.

Was that normal behaviour? From Miss to nothing to your actual first name. 

He pissed you off. 

He pissed you off so badly that the tears streaming down your cheeks were tears of anger, you decided. 

“Oh heavens. Are you alright, dear?” a young woman stopped in tracks with her man. 

“Yes, thank you, Miss,” you bowed a little holding your skirts. You wanted to get out of that car.

No. You wanted to get out of the damn Train. 

Was it normal for love to hurt like that? Was all of that even love? 

You had no idea afterall.

Everyone said you would just know and everything would fall into place. You’d have the best experience and make the Train stop to settle down with the love of your life. Then why all of those people felt like nothing around you and the only man your heart ached for you couldn’t have? 

“Hey hey hey,” Mark stopped you by putting his hands on your shoulders. 

You were barely seeing where you were walking. 

“What happened?” he asked. “Did you see him?” 

Bless Mark and his everknowing third eye. 

You gave him a little nod and he pouted his lips, holding you into his arms. “There there. It’s alright. It’s okay.” 

The people walking around you gave you some looks as they tried to reach the ball hall but you didn’t care. 

“Mark, can you be my soulmate so we can go home and live together in a cottage?” you joked, your voice was muffled against his shoulder and you heard him chuckle.

“Actually-” he trailed off and you let him go, rubbing your eyes and finally eying the person on his side who was patiently waiting for you to calm down. 

“I want to introduce you to my-” he added then interrupted himself again, looking at the smiling person with eyes you’ve never saw him have. “-the love of my life,” he finished. 

________

Your coach felt like the safest place on earth and your cell at the same time. 

After the congratulatory moments and after starting to cry again because you realized how happy you were for your best friend to have found the person he was going to spend his life with, the sad tears came along again as you realized that he was probably going to leave the Train that same evening. 

We’ll come visiting often. Afterall I’m leaving my parents and friends behind as well and I want to see them again, he assured you. 

You sighed and sat down on your bed.

The reflection the mirror in the corner gave you back made you jolt a bit. You cleaned the running mascara from your cheeks and laid down waiting for the Train to stop, trying to empty your brain.

The Conductor’s voice echoing in your head couldn’t let you fall asleep. Why was he behaving like that? Was he that cruel? Couldn’t he actual see what was going on? 

When the Train’s rumbling stopped and you heard the chatter of some couples walking down the corridor you sat back up and opened the coach’s door. 

Mark squeezed you in a tight hug then gave you a thumbs up as he passed in front of you with his luggage and, after some other people, you saw the Conductor closing the line.

He stopped in front of your door and opened his mouth as you locked eyes but then he probaby changed his mind because he closed it soon after in a tight line and followed the rest of the people. 

You remained quiet behind his back and none of the passengers looked like minding having another spectator, so deeply lost in their partner’s eyes. 

“Thank you for traveling with us. I wish you happiness,” the Conductor said, repeating the same phrase you heard him say that first time you witnessed a passengers descent. 

Mark lifted his hand to wave and you exhaled, waving back, feeling tears prick your eyes as he turned around and walked towards the Station.

The Conductor remained there for the following moments and you somehow knew he did it for you. 

“He’ll do fine,” he said after a moment of quiet. 

“I know,” you simply replied. 

“Y/N,” he turned around and you inhaled taking a step back. 

“Don’t call me by my name. We’re not on those terms.” 

The Conductor hesitated but then he took a step inside and the doors closed behind him.

Your gaze was on his shiny shoes so he hunched his back a little to make you look at his face instead. 

The cry and the other events calmed you down by now but seeing his face made all of those feelings resurface.

You forced yourself to look at his eyes the way he cleary wanted you to. 

“My name is Haechan,” he murmured straightening his back. “Would that make us be on those terms now?” 

Your fingers fidgeted at the sound of his name and your lips fought the urge to say it out loud. 

“Why?” you asked instead. “Why are you being mean to me?”

“I’m not trying to be mean,” he got closer to you and you took a few steps back again. 

“I don’t want to be close to you. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to be on first name terms with you. I wish for you to leave me alone if you don’t want anything to do with me.”

Haechan kept moving forward as you moved back until you hit the wall with your blades. He got as close as to rest his palms near your head on the wooden wall.

And when he leaned in and rubbed your cheek with the tip of his nose you forgot how to breathe. 

“You smell like fresh cotton and linen,” he whispered with the most desperate tone you heard a man speak. It was so tender that it clouded your mind. “It engulfed me the same instant I opened the doors that night. You’re not insane, I feel it too.” 

He straightened his back and looked you in the eyes. “The soulmate bond,” he added. “This is why you’re irritable when you’re away from me. This is why no one seems interesting to you, why this Journey feels boring. It’s not because you haven’t met the one yet. It’s because you have.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. 

“And? What now?” you didn’t let his sweet words sway you although all you wanted was for him to wrap his arms around you and press those pillowy lips on yours. 

“The truth is I am as lost as you are,” he let his arms fall to his sides. “This is not supposed to happen.” 

“I figured.” 

“I come from the Conductors family,” he started. “Traditionally we do not have soulmates. Our people-” he stopped, as if unsure of how to explain. “-breed by choosing random people they want to be with. Sometimes the couples stay together. Sometimes they don’t if the person who’s not from this family actually meets their rightful soulmate.” 

“Do you know of anyone who separated that way?” you asked although from his eyes you could tell that he did. 

“My parents.” 

You bit your lower lip. “I am sorry,” you wrapped your nudes arms. 

“Are you cold?” he asked but you cut him off seeing his hands going to unbutton his outwear. 

“Don’t you dare giving me your jacket,” you warned him. “It-” you stopped suddenly very embarrassed. “-was a lot to handle the first time,” you settled for, as drove me insane felt too much. 

“I know,” he looked as nervous and for a moment it made you feel better. You also never realized how young he was. He was probably just around your age. “It made me feel a certain well, too,” he added. 

You looked behind him and you realized your coach was just around the corner. Haechan let you walk around him and open the door, grabbing a shawl to put around your shoulders. 

“Come inside. It’s warmer here,” you let your head peek around the corner. 

Haechan felt too big for your coach, you realized, seeing him sitting on the deep dark chairs.

As if knowing to not give you any kind of temptation, there was no bed inside.

You made a mental note to ask Haechan how did the Train knew such stuff. 

“I am as unprepared as you are,” he spoke after a while, resuming his discourse. 

You knew that conversation was due to happen but it didn’t make you feel less nervous. 

“My grandfather never mentioned something like this happen to me. He just assumed I might end up seeing someone with no soulmate. My grandmother was one of them and they haven’t separated. Although now I wonder if she met someone else and actively chose my grandfather instead because of some kind of principle sentiment.” 

All of that raw information made your heart ache. You’ve never thought about the Conductor’s family growing up. You’ve never ever heard of people with no soulmate whatsoever. 

“Would that be that bad?” you asked in a tiny voice. 

His eyes were fiery when he looked at you but you knew he wasn’t mad at you. “Would you enjoy the thought of someone being with you because they feel sorry or because of a promise they made although they’re madly in love with someone else?”

You gulped and looked down at your hands in your lap. 

“You think that would be our situation?” 

The man didn’t reply. You took it for a yes. 

“Or are you afraid I’d leave you after a while? Because you think you’re not my actual soulmate?” 

“I don’t know,” he exhaled. “You’d think for a Conductor of the Soulmates Train I’d be more well versed in these heart affairs,” he chuckled bitterly. 

He closed his eyes and you felt brave enough to stare at his face. You’ve never had the opportunity to see his features for that long. He was so gorgeous that your heart felt like bleeding and the thought of you meeting someone else that would make you feel more than that that felt inimaginable. The thought of him with some other woman felt even worse. 

“If I can’t have you-” you started unable to keep your mouth shut. “I think I’ll just not have anyone else. I can’t even imagine-”

The man smiled and opened his eyes. They were the same deep blue that made you feel like suffocating the first time you saw them. “I am flattered you think this way now.” 

“I’m not going to change my mind.” 

“I love a challenge.” 

He was pissing you off. You told him just that. 

His laugh was so pristine that you felt a little smile bloom on your face as well. 

“Then what? I’ll just finish this Journey and go home? Then I’ll see you next year? Does this make sense to you?” you tried to reason. 

His story was so sad that it made your heart bleed but the relief that washed over you felt so good that it was making you dizzy. He was into you too. He could sense your scent too. He desired you too. You would not let him go away. 

“Sounds good,” he replied with a tiny breathy voice. 

You rolled your eyes. “No, it doesn’t.” 

“Then what? You wish to stay here with me? Forever? On the Train?” he asked instead. 

You bit your lower lip. “Where do you stay when it’s not Soulmates season?” 

Haechan sat lower on the chair and his extended and spread legs made you curse at yourself for finding that attractive. “I live on the Train. Always had.” 

“You just stay here alone? The whole year?” you leaned in surprised. 

The man shrugged. “I had my Grandpa before. It wasn’t that bad. And I don’t know another world besides this one so I don’t miss it.”

“Where is he now?”

Haechan looked towards the window as if actually seeing what was behind that curtain. He probably knew what was behind it, you realized. 

“He’s living with my mother. He couldn’t work anymore as he was too old.” 

You leaned back in your chair as well and lifted your legs to rest them near him.

Haechan turned his head towards them and lifted one hand, letting his fingers trail the arch of one of them making you twitch. 

He looked at your surprised expression and his eyelashes were heavy on his eyes. 

Then he inserted two fingers between the hem of one of his white gloves and took it off, letting it fall to the ground. Then he did the same with his other hand. 

You couldn’t speak.

No, you couldn’t think. 

His fingers were slender and his touch was warm as he caressed your arch again, this time making you fully shiver. Seeing his bare hands shouldn’t have made you feel that way. 

“Haechan,” you murmured, maybe as a warning, or maybe because you simply wanted to say his name. 

“Y/N,” he said back, taking your feet and placing them on top of one of his thighs. He then looked down at them, slowly touching your ankles too, going up as much as he could reach which was too much for your dizzy head giving the crampness of the coach. You could have sworn it wasn’t so small before. 

You hummed as he reached your knee, letting your skirts fall to your thighs in the movement. And when he reached the clasps of your garter keeping the tights up you jolted. 

“I don’t think we should be doing this,” your voice wavered. 

“I know,” he breathed out, yet his hands didn’t move away and you didn’t push them away either. 

They kept going up, over your skirts this time until reaching the back of your corset which was starting to feel way too tight. 

Haechan slowly slid down between your legs, on his knees, as if guided by a string coming from inside of you. The view made you mewl and the thought of doing this with anyone besides him sounded abhorrent in that moment.

The first pull made you inhale and put your hands on his shoulders. They felt firm. 

The second pull at your corset made you bite your lower lip and Haechan’s pupils darted to it. 

“Haechan,” you called out again, this time softly, like a prayer. 

“Yes, darling,” he leaned even closer to you, attentive to your expression and reactions. 

The pet name knocked the air out of your lungs.

“If-” you swallowed thickly, “if we have to separate-, please, I want-” 

Haechan patiently waited for more. His eyes, his fucking eyes, they were so deep, and his lips, so so close to you. You could have just leaned forward and tasted them. 

You felt like going insane. 

“Remember when you said that you’d-” you changed the route of the phrase thinking it would be easier but you stopped again.

Haechan exhaled and pulled another string from your corset. “What is it that you want?” 

“I want you to be my first.”

________

Something inside Haechan’s brain was screaming that it was all a mistake, that he was doing something he shouldn’t have.

But Haechan has been a very good boy his whole life while everyone around him made mistakes with not a single worry in the world. Warm between your legs he didn’t care if he’ll regret it. 

But hearing you he stopped, inches away from your mouth. Your heavy breath was matching his and your cleaveage still tightly restricted in that corset made him wonder if you could feel how hard he was against the heavy skirts of your dress. 

“I need to hear you ask me again, explicitly, and I need to hear you say that you’re aware this might be a mistake and you might regret it,” he grunted. 

You fanned your lashes at him with that pure expression of yours. 

“I want you to make me yours and I am aware of all of the consequences,” you murmured. 

Your tone and the polite choice of words made him want to scream. 

“Please,” you added and Haechan couldn’t take it anymore.

He leaned towards you and grabbed your chin with one hand, tasting the tender skin of your neck instead of your lips. 

You exhaled and trembled against him, your pulse beating so fast underneath his tongue that he wondered how plump and wet you were between your legs. 

So soft and malleable in his arms you let him gently push you into the bed that materialized underneath you. 

________

The Conductor’s eyes were so deep that they looked almost black. His body felt so good on top of yours that you wondered if he could let his weight down even more to fully engulf you with his presence.

You couldn’t imagine feeling such intensity with someone else. He didn’t trust you with your feelings but the moment his lips pressed on yours you were sure he had to be your soulmate or nothing in life would have made sense. 

And when you finally slid your hands in his hair you found it was as soft as you imagined.

His wet velvety tongue on your throat made you mewl in ways you’ve never heard yourself sound before.

Then he kissed your boiling skin on your clavicle and when he reached the swell of your breasts you felt on fire. 

“Hng,” you whimpered, feeling his warm and wide palms press on your waist and slide underneath until he pulled up to sit. He never stopped kissing your body, not even when he pulled harshly at the corset strings to finally undo it. 

You gasped at the sudden freeing sensation and shyly let your arms up for him to drag it up and let it fall to the side. 

He cupped your free breasts soon after under the thinner dress material and you threw your head back. 

Not in a million years you would regret that. It wasn’t possible. 

And when your back hit the mattress again Haechan finally kissed you, slowly, brushing your lips together first, then delicately taking your upper lip between his, letting you taste his bottom one. Your fingers deepened the pressure on his shoulders the same moment you felt his tongue nudge at your mouth. You opened further and timidly let yours meet his. It tingled all over your body and when he slid it fully inside your mouth you moaned.

You couldn’t breathe nor think. You couldn’t even move. 

Was this the love everyone was talking about? Because you were starting to understand. 

In that moment it didn’t matter what you two would end up doing. The only thing you could concentrate on was the ardent kiss and his hands on your arms, reaching up to slid the dress straps off your shoulders.

Then he touched the spot with his lips and you finally gasped, taking in as much air as you could, extending your neck in the opposite direction, giving him more space to fully drive you crazy. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured against your skin as you twitched ever so slightly. Your breast was almost bare and the thought of him seeing you as no one had before made your nipples poke the dress fabric until it hurt. 

“Tell me to stop anytime and I will,” he added. 

“I don’t want you to stop. Please,” you found yourself saying. 

________

You were so warm. You were warm and soft and Haechan desired you so much that he had to bite his lower lip almost to blood to prevent himself from devouring you completely.

Insane, he thought, you were insane to ask him to fuck you like that, and he was also insane for going with it.

His cock was so hard that it was painful and he imagined you felt the same, so he leaned down and wet your hard nubs making you gasp so deliciously that he made a mental note to do it often.

The thoughts of that being your first time together but maybe also the last was banging into his brain but he decided to ignore it. Your little sounds were grounding him and the way your breast felt underneath his hands, overflowing between his fingers as he squeezed just added to his brain haze. 

He was starting to feel feverish and if he didn’t ended up with his mouth between your legs soon he thought he was going to go insane.

Your hands on his shoulders made shivers go down his spine and when they moved to his hair, he hummed with your nipples against his tongue. 

He wanted to make you feel good, he wanted to make you feel so fucking good.

And he told you, murmuring it on top of your skin, sliding down your torso and letting your scent and warmth guide his clouded brain. 

Haechan took your dress with him and when he couldn’t take it anymore he lifted himself on his knees and dragged it up your legs, throwing it as far as he could.

Your chest was falling and dropping so fast underneath him and he took a moment to enjoy the view, letting his gaze caress you where his hand was, slowly from your ribcage down your navel until reaching the slit between your legs. 

You gasped, the little O on your face making his almost growl. 

“Have you ever touched yourself before, darling?” he asked with a voice he barely recognized. 

You shivered and he leaned back down to shelter you with his body, his hand still lazily drawing circles around your plump and soaked clit. 

__________

You tried to hide your face in the crook of his neck but he was quicker.

You couldn’t believe you were completely naked in front of the man you desired so desperately. Was that the cruel joke of the destiny? Giving you all before taking it away from you?

Haechan kissed your lips, this time deeply and rougher than the first. Then he breathed on them. “Answer me,” he demanded. 

You melwed, unable to think. His fingertips were so delicate and gentle that they almost weren’t there, yet you felt them so well that you couldn’t concentrate on anything else. 

“Only outside,” you admitted. 

Haechan rubbed his nose against your cheek. “I thought you were a curious person. You never felt the need to know how it feels inside?” 

You swallowed thickly. Not in your most depraved thoughts you imagined a gentleman talk to you like that. And you loved it. 

“I was afraid,” you admitted. 

Haechan hummed, kissing slowly alongside your neck then licking your ear. “You’re so sensitive. Were you afraid it was going to hurt?”

You nodded as a reply. 

“Are you afraid now?” he looked you in the eyes, his fingertips never stopping for a moment. 

“No,” you whispered. 

Haechan’s wet lips were open as if to let more air get inside his lungs and the thought of you being the cause to that decadent expression made the wetness between your legs just get worse.

You bit your lower lip, wondering if he noticed and when he dropped his hand by a mere centimeter you could feel his finger nudge at your hole and collect every drop of it. 

You closed your eyes in embarrassment, clasping the material of his shirt on his bicep, and it just made Haechan more eager to rub your clit in ways you never even thought of. 

“Show me,” he said, his voice so thick and rough that you felt like swimming in it. “Show me how you touched yourself.” 

“Please,” you begged unsure yourself for what. 

“Don’t be shy. Put your hand on top of mine and guide me, love,” he murmured with a twinkle in his eyes that made your insides burn. 

You let one of your hands slide down his arm and you reached the back of his hand between your legs. It felt so erotic that you felt like combusting. 

“Yes, just like that,” he prompted you, his lips now back on your chest, gently biting the softness of your flesh. 

You gulped and pressed your fingers on top of his, moving them in little circles you knew felt good. Haechan hummed. “Yeah? Do you like it like this?” 

The little nod you gave him made him smile. Then it turned into something more ferocious. 

“What about this?” he changed the movement, his fingers now gently flicking your nub up and down as well, pressing a bit more that you did it yourself, sending jolts of pleasure across your body. 

“Yes,” you stuttered. 

“Yeah?” he spoke in the crook of your neck. “Did you make yourself cum as well?” 

You threw your head back at the sensation and his tone and his words didn’t help you feel grounded at all. “A few times.” 

Or at least you thought you did. Because the way Haechan was making you feel didn’t even come close to the way you managed to make yourself feel alone. 

“May I?” his words buzzed against your lips, so polite in contrast with the way his fingertip felt like nudging at your core. 

You bit your lower lip and Haechan rubbed his lips on you as a in invitation to bite his lip instead. You inhaled and nodded, pressing your hand on top of his.

He sucked the air between his teeth and kissed you deeply, letting his tongue smack against yours in the wettest and most desperate kiss. 

And when you felt his finger slide inside of you it felt so overwhelming that you clenched so hard he had to break off the kiss to shush you. “You need to relax for me, baby, yeah?” 

You felt your whole body shake and Haechan kissed the corner of your mouth then your cheek, doing on your jaw and neck.

“It’s going to feel very good, I promise,” he murmured against your clavicle. “That’s right,” he exhaled, feeling your melt in his hold. “My sweet sweet girl, just like that.” 

The praise went to your head so badly that you almost didn’t realize the way he managed to move inside and out of you slowly and when he reached a specific spot and curled his finger upwards you jolted in place, grabbing his shoulders with a strong grip, the moan that escaped your throat probably loud enough to wake up the neighbouring passengers. 

“You like that, darling?” Haechan kept fucking you on his finger until you couldn’t close your mouth, the sensation sending the most intense jolts of electricity up your legs and torso. 

“Fuck,” you exhaled and Haechan chuckled. 

“Yeah? My lady became this dirty for me?” 

“Shit,” you couldn’t stop yourself. “Oh, heavens.” 

The wet sounds and Haechan’s quick breaths made you curl your toes, and when he stopped his hand and you felt his finger exit you mewled a protest. 

“More, please?”

Haechan gave you a cocky smile, lifting himself on his knees in front of you and letting you stare at the way he took off his jacket then slowly, so fucking slowly, he unbuttoned his shirt.

His pristine skin peeking underneath the white fabric made your mouth water and you had to sit down as well, leaning in and pressing your lips on his chest. 

________

Haechan exhaled and cupped the back of your head and when he felt your delicate fingers open the rest of his buttons he thought he’d cum on the spot. 

Your touch was heaven on his chest and your lips started to get too low, very low, down his abdomen until reaching the band of his dress pants.

Your ass was full on display the way your were crouching on all fours and when you lifted your gaze up, your mouth so close to the tip of his clothed cock, he reached and gave you a light spank that made your eyes shine and your tender throat mewl. 

He desperately wanted his cock down that throat but he knew it would be insanity. 

So he grabbed your chin instead and pulled you upwards to kiss your mouth again, and this time when he pushed you into the mattress he didn’t care to be gentle.

The grunt that left your chest made him worried that he had been too harsh but the way your grabbed his hair and pulled him into the kiss again, wrapping your thighs around his waist told him you weren’t a porcelain doll. 

And when he left your gasping mouth to devour your cunt the moan you made and the way your body curved almost broke him. 

“Haechan,” you called out and he has never heard someone pronounce his name in a sexier way. 

He hummed back, deeply, licking a stripe up from your hole to your clit and resting on it heavily before rolling the tip around it, tasting you, flicking it until he felt your nails dig in the forearm he snaked around one of your thighs.

He pressed his palm on your lower stomach and the way you inhaled deeply made him suck ever more. 

________

Legs around his head - the Conductor’s head - and his mouth on you, his arms around your limbs and his scent all over your body, you’ve never felt more ready to die. 

“God,” you moaned, shaking in his hold so much that he added more pressure on your hips and when you felt his fingers nudging at your hole again, this time two of them, gently pushing past the rim, you grabbed the sheets underneath your until you had no more strength.

“Please please please,” you mumbled, his fingers hooked in so deliciously that you couldn’t see anymore. You had no idea there was such pleasure out there. 

Haechan hummed, almost growled, his mouth full of your and his deep blue eyes staring at you with such intensity that you just had to let go or you would go insane. 

“I feel-” you tried, your voice rough. 

The man let your clit go for a mere second. “Yeah? Come on, cum for me darling. Come on, my love.” 

It was like a switch, his tongue back on you and his fingers stretching you so well that you could only bury your had in the pillow and scream, coming undone until the only thing you could hear was your own breaths and the gentle rumbling of the Train underneath you. 

Haechan’s little kisses made your shaking thighs relax and you realized you were clasping his wrist so you let go with trembling fingers. 

“My good good girl,” he came towards you, peppering kisses all over your body, his fingers still deep inside of you, feeling the way you kept rhythmically clenching around them. 

His lips were wet and red when he reached your mouth.

You exchanged a deep look that made all the hairs on your body rise and when he kissed you slowly and you tasted yourself on his tongue you felt like pouty in his arms. 

“I want to make you feel good too,” you whispered against his lips. 

Haechan hummed and slid his fingers out, making you hiss. Then with his wet hand he grabbed yours gently and directed it towards his pants. 

“Open the buttons,” he ordered and you gulped, sliding your second arm between your bodies and obeyed, opening them one by one and feeling the heat coming from his body. 

“Now touch me,” he breathed against your temple and you felt like rolling your eyes back from the sheer intensity of that energy. 

You looked up and saw the man of your life close his eyes and furrow his eyebrows almost in pain when you caressed his length from tip until base. 

“Fuck,” he gulped. “Harder,” his order made you bit your lower lip and you added a second hand, grabbing it loosely and moving them both up and down. 

Haechan wrapped your hands with his and you inhaled shakily at the darkness of his eyes. He guided you, making you squeeze more until his breath went missing. 

“Like this?” you asked. He was hot and hard but so velvety that you were afraid to hurt him. 

“Just like that, darling,” he reassured you and when you felt the drops of something sliding under your palm Haechan’s jaw clenched. “You’re making me feel so fucking good, good heavens Y/N.” 

You picked up the pace, loving his sounds and his expressions and he groaned.

You wanted more. You needed more.

“Please, I need you,” you murmured against his cheek. 

Haechan leaned in and bit down on your neck, sucking on your skin and the sting felt so good that you felt your cunt pool up again. “Say that again, darling.” 

You exhaled. “I need you, Haechan, please.” 

“Where?” he breathed on your open mouth. 

“Inside of me,” you choked on air as he reached down and slid his cock out of your hands with a wince, letting it rest between your fold instead. 

“Yeah?”

You nodded and gasped, feeling the heaviness on if rub against your sensitivity. 

“I need you to stop me at any given moment of discomfort. Do you understand me?” 

His tone and demeanor made you almost chuckle. He drove you crazy. 

“Yes, sir,” you whispered and Haechan put his tongue inside his cheek at your choice of words. 

He intertwined his fingers with yours while the other hand held the base of his cock to align himself with you.

It was so big and thick, two veins running down it similar to his forearms and it made you swallow dryly at the sinful thought that came inside of your head. 

But you felt drunk and you didn’t care.

“I want it in my mouth,” you locked eyes with him and Haechan visibly crumbled between your legs. 

“You’ll be the death of me,” he inhaled sharply through his teeth and pushed inside of you slowly making you gasp and squeeze his fingers. 

“Mmmm,” you furrowed your eyebrows and Haechan stopped, leaning down to shush you, kissing your neck and guiding your breaths until you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him forward. 

“Does it hurt?” he murmured, moving his hips ever so slightly, making more and more space for himself. 

“It stings, outside, but it feels good, inside,” your phrases were broken and Haechan chuckled against your lips, giving you a quick kiss that you couldn’t concentrate on as he was getting closer and closer to the spot you oh so desperately wanted him to reach. 

“It’s going to feel better soon,” he reassured. 

“I know. How does- it feel-for-you?” your tiny voice, stuttering because of his shallow thrusts made Haechan dig his other hand in the mattress. 

“It feels like heaven, my darling.” 

You hummed and then gasped as Haechan felt you open even more, swallowing him so well that he had to compose himself before he could start losing it and ram inside of you. 

“Does the thought of me feeling good turn you on, love?” he grabbed your waist, keeping you in place and finally bottoming out. 

Your face scrunched and the moan you let out sounded like music to his ears. 

“Haechan-” 

“Yeah?” 

_______

Your breath was so irregular that you felt not enough oxygen getting to your brain.

There were no words to describe how he felt inside of you, intoxicating, sinful, full, so fucking full, he was all over you, inside your body and mind and heart, you wanted him more and more, you wanted him forever. 

You stared at him between your lashes and you hoped he could see all of that. You hoped he could understand how he made you feel and you hoped he felt the same. 

“I know, baby,” he shushed you, his hips picked up the pace and he was heavy and deep, the sound of his skin slapping yours making you hide your face into the crook of his neck in shame. He let you do that and lifted your hand above your head, pushing into it as much as he wanted to push into you and couldn’t for fear of hurting you. 

Your brain went to the image of him fucking you desperatly and animalistically, fast and with no worry.

You desperately wanted that.

You wanted him again. That couldn’t be the last time you saw each other.

No way. 

“Haechan, kiss me, please,” you managed to speak between the gasps. 

The man leaned down and kissed you deeply, fucking you both with his tongue and his cock, until you moaned into his mouth. 

His eyes were feverish and his forehead shining with a thin layer of sweat.

You let his hand go to wrap his neck and dig your hands in his soft messy hair, not breaking eye contact until with no words you both orgasmed and you lulled each other’s shaking bodies to sleep. 

---will continue---