Shameless (M)

Shameless (M)

pairing. step-son Jeno x step-mom reader

genre. stepcest, infidelity, Jeno hates his dad, young trophy wife step-mom

wc. 10k

warnings. dubcon, profanity, exercise/body talk, Jeno has a thing for sweat, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

now playing. Shameless//Camila Cabello

smut warnings. masturbation, mommy kink, coercion, a lot of breast focus, reader has large breasts, oral, improper use of a cucumber.., raw fucking, noncon filming, wet messy etc..

“She’s a little too young, even for you.”

Jeno’s tongue drags along the backs of his teeth peering over his father’s shoulder for the last 10 minutes as he idly scrolled through various photos and short video clips. Most innocent enough, cute selfies showing off your pretty fanned out eyelashes, a new lip gloss shade, or just an adorable smile.

The videos his dad took time to watch made Jeno’s breath hitch, looping the few seconds of you showing off a new bikini for summer, filming yourself in the mirror and turning to show off a scandalous yet feminine pattern right above the indentation of bikini bottom scrunched between your pert buttcheeks.

“I work very hard, son, believe I deserve a pretty young thing.” He snickers, having noticed the youngers reflection on his phone screen a few minutes ago. “Something about this one..”

“Where’d you find her? Another sugar baby app you had to pay to join?” Jeno crosses his arms, glaring daggers into the back of his father’s head. Pathetic, working hard for what? To blow your funds on women who probably gag over your shoulder while you fuck them and lose your stamina after two minutes?

His father chuckles, swiping the social media app shut to open his messages. “You’re going to hate this but she approached me first.” With a proud smile he turns to face his son, showing off back and forth messaging between the two of you. Majority of the context is similar to how two cute shy teens would chat, nothing racy despite knowing his father’s likely buying time to pounce and unleash an arsenal of embarrassing boomer dick pics.

“You’re lying.”

Standing up, his father sneers, a smile hidden somewhere behind his resentful expression. “Believe it or not, your old man’s still got it. Now, if you don’t mind— I have a date with your soon-to-be step-mom.” He winks, purposefully bumping roughly into his son’s shoulder on his way out of the living room; leaving Jeno standing there rubbing at the spot mindlessly, jaw tight as he recounts your username to conduct his own investigation.

His first summer home in years and this is what his asshole father wants to pull? Jeno grimaces, plopping down on the couch to commence his search and find your other social media platforms.

“Twenty-fucking-two? He’s out of his mind.” Muttering to himself, he quickly taps in and out of various videos. The fact that you follow dance trends is enough to make his eyes roll, concentrating harder than he should have to on your face and the quirky silly wide eyes you make at the camera instead of the obscene way your breasts bounce freely beneath a much too tight and thin crop top, braless. Of course.

Jeno bets you did approach his dad first, he can picture it now. A sweet little helpless thing miraculously bumping into him at Whole Foods or some other ridiculously overpriced grocery store, batting your big doe eyes irresistibly after calculating the worth of the ludicrous gold Rolex adorning his wrist. No doubt adding the sum of his Gucci loafers and Dior sunnies; undoubtedly pushed up into his salt and pepper hair as he read over the nutritional information of a new all-natural all-organic sugar free gluten free energy drink.

You probably struck up conversation from there, perched yourself on his dad’s arm striking up flirtatious charm about the product in his hands, just to lean in closer and smash your ample chest against his arm.

Jeno clicks his phone shut frustrated, balling his fist open and shut to watch the blood flow down and redden his skin.

It infuriates him how easily his father continues to win, after the divorce his view of the man he once admired could never be repaired. What he once respected and admired all came crumbling down as his mother broke down crying in his arms after years of pretending to act dumb and not notice late evenings at the office, extended company trips, or the stains of lipstick shades she’d never wear and remnants of musky oud that simply never complimented her skin.

Jeno rests his eyes, ignoring the itching ache in his chest. What could he do anyway? What did his dad have to lose that money couldn’t buy him a new and better version of.

A house? A car? More designer brands and jewelry to mark his status in the upper class?

It only took a month, one fucking month, and the answer became clear as his dad lifted you up by your trim waist hidden under ugly burly veiny paws. The smile across his face so arrogant and cocky, hoisting his young little play thing up in the pool just to watch your beautiful round chest bounce in his face beneath triangles of material hardly containing you.

Jeno can’t deny he gets something out of it too, something he stores away for later along with the cheerful sweet moaned giggles you let out after splashing his father’s face with water and demanding in the most helpless submissive tone to be put down. Bet his dad loves that, in fact, he knows he does. It didn’t even take a full two weeks before you moved in with a fat diamond rock on your ring finger. The sight of it nearly blinded him when it caught the glare of light.

Jeno knows he can’t keep up with his father’s wealth, not yet. Material things aren’t his strength either, but as he jerks off into his palm by his bedroom window facing the backyard where you’ve taken to performing your morning pilates, his eyes concentrate on your insane flexibility. The tip of your head near your feet keeping your taut ass up for him to salivate over, and now he knows one thing for sure.

He needs to fuck his step-mom.

Jeno’s usually a morning person, but leave it to his father to ruin that for him.

“Kiss kiss.”

Disgusting.

Heavily wrinkled lips pout in your face, his dad slithered around your waist from behind as you finished packing your new husband's lunch. Really, it’s repulsive to watch unfold every morning. The only perk being the smile you beam Jeno’s way with your much too chipper and excited ‘Good Morning!’ As you skip to the fridge to pour some of your lemon water into a glass, breasts all round and taunting from where he sits; nipples always hard, piercing through your collection of various nighties and tank tops.

“Anything for breakfast? I can whip up some pancakes real quick if you want.”

Jeno tries to hide his grin, as much as he wishes to act like a brat— he can’t. The thing is, you’re lovely in every sense of the word. Too lovely, doting, and appealing, never once causing him annoyance.

He wants to scoff, demand you whip up the most delicious fluffiest pancakes, take your top off and throw the batter down your bare chest before laughing in your face to clean it up; lifting up one breasts at a time with fat wads of tears in your eyes as you plead for him to stop— stop being mean, stop smearing more of the mess he’s caused you to make across your lips.

“Nothing for me.” Jeno motions to the protein shake resting in his grip. “I’m trying to lean out.”

“Lean out?” Your smiles too soft, lifting to one side with surprise. “I can’t imagine you have anything but muscle left, when's the last time you had your body fat measured?”

“Ah, you don’t know because you haven’t seen me shirtless, yet.” Jeno says, more as an invitation to get a rise out of you, having to swallow back a sigh at your lack of response; not even a hint of interest. “Need to slim down my waist a bit to really achieve the shape I want.”

“Well if you ask me..” Jeno waits, appreciating how lightly you float around the kitchen to gather your fruits and toppings to decorate your yogurt bowl with. “You look really fit, your waist is practically non-existent.”

“How much do you weigh?” He asks abruptly, evidently throwing you off by the way your gaze widens in shock and a stutter passes between your lips, quickly averting your attention back to the half chopped strawberry in front of you.

“Wha— uhm..”

“Sorry, that was rude.” Jeno smiles, awkwardly scratching his nape. “I was wondering if it’s less than what I can press.”

A dazed gleam coats your iris, staring back dumbfounded by the image of your step-son working his hips up with crossed eyebrows, using all the force and strength of his muscle mass to lift.

“How much can you do?” You ask, clearing your throat and refocusing on your breakfast. The question more to keep up with the conversation before you run off to hide in your bedroom.

Jeno lets out a breathy laugh. “I shouldn’t have asked, don’t know what I was thinking.” Pushing up from the kitchen island to stand, he pauses before making his way to exit; having taken to a grueling AM workout after downing his shakes. “I can definitely press double, if not more than what you weigh.”

He doesn’t miss the way your hands come to a halt, gripping around the knife in your hold, eyes silently falling shut with a deep breath.

“You should come join me some time, bet I can lift you easily.”

Jeno’s grateful at least that his father has no choice but to work morning to evening five days a week to earn the lavish lifestyle he’s achieved. He’s thankful because you love to perform your afternoon stretches in the backyard, the landscape his bedroom window coincidentally faces.

“So flexible.” He mumbles to himself, forehead resting against the window frame where he stands with his hand buried inside of his boxers, mindlessly thumbing at the slit of his cock for a hint of relief. Your mid-day sessions only last about over an hour, depending on how far you want to push yourself.

Sure, the splits always made his balls tighten up, having to slow down the pace and pull at his length, circling the base to quell the sudden urge to throw you up and down on his cock fully spread out.

But really, the extended puppy pose takes him over the edge every time.

Jerking off from his bedroom window has become unsatisfactory, the best part is really after when you walk in with your smile high off endorphins, gently patting the sweat that’s accumulated on your gorgeous décolleté.

“Oh Jeno, I thought you’d gone out.”

He hums, following your movements around the kitchen to replenish your hydration, noting the beads of sweat continuously rolling down between the dip in your back. His teeth bite down on the tip of his tongue, tempted to shove you up against the fridge and lick them all clean before falling to his knees to suck the dark patch between your thighs.

“Good workout?” Jeno never tries to hide that he’s checking you out, he makes it obvious everyday. “Looks like you really worked up a sweat.”

“Oh yeah, it’s so hot outside.” The lack of eye contact you’re able to maintain indicates discomfort, judging by the way you try to clean off your stomach and arms.

“My dad has a thing about sweat, right?” Jeno offhandedly mentions, not missing the awkward twitch in your cheek to hide a grimace. “That’s why you’re always so clean by the time he gets home? The water bill has to be through the roof with how often he has you doing laundry.. not that he cares.”

“I suppose his nose is a bit sensitive.”

“He always complained about how my mom smelled, her hair after a day of not washing, the smell of the dinner she cooked him on her hands still.” He continues, enjoying your lack of reply. “He’s picky about a lot of things, I’m sure you know what I mean.”

A fake smile shuts down the conversation, nodding toward the staircase. “It’s time for my shower.”

Jeno nods, shamelessly eyeing the stains of wetness under your large breasts, pushed together even tighter by the binding sports bra meant to keep you held in place through vigorous activity. “Wouldn’t want daddy to get mad now, would we?”

A wash of embarrassment has you scurrying away from your step-son quickly, leaving behind the small towel drenched in your sweat that immediately catches his attention.

Jeno definitely inherited the same sensitive sense of smell from his father, but unlike the old man he’d become more addicted to the different places his nose had led him to. A smirk lifts his lips, tucking the towel up above his mouth to deeply inhale. It’s mind-numbing how delectable you smell, he even sucks on the remnants of damp that hasn’t fully evaporated, quietly mewling within his chest.

The telltale sound of the upstairs shower from his father’s bedroom tears him from slipping into euphoric madness, cock already half-erect as he trudges up the stairs and finds himself tip-toeing into your bedroom, the bathroom door only softly creaking as he makes space to peer through. The daily routine of watching you scrub down every inch of skin, so smooth, hairless, meticulously shaving clean each short hint of stuble. His father must be real demanding of how his little stay at home house-wife should present herself, of course.

Bunching the nearly dried towel inside of his briefs, Jeno groans between clenched lips, rubbing the cotton fabric up and down his length, his heart rate pumping up to a high-speed when you lift a leg to reach deep between your thighs and leave the fleshy area hidden there completely bald.

That will change once he manages to infiltrate, he’ll make you change for him.

“You should go out son, I don’t want you hanging around the house.” Jeno’s dad doesn’t even bother to mask his disdain, shoving a wad of cash at his chest. “Scram.”

That would be too easy, it’s not as if his friends haven’t been blowing up his phone about some party tonight. He’ll plan to leave later and miss the sound of his father’s pig-like moaning squeals when he takes five minutes to fuck you. For now, his ass isn’t moving from one of the pool chairs, opting for the more shaded area under a large canopy to watch from.

Why would he want to miss out on the display you put on for his old man, stepping out in a tight little two piece bikini that does nothing to cover any of your curves. Jeno’s cock twitches as you slowly step out of your robe and his dad whistles making grabby hands at you to enter the pool. “Jump in, baby doll.”

Sick. God he hates hearing that old worn voice order your around. He hates how you giggle and enter from the steps, giving him a half-assed jump only for your breasts to lift up under your chin before the water immerses your perfect body, lifting back out pouring cascades of wet down your shoulders and arms before his dad snatches you up by the waist. “That’s my girl.”

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five—

Jeno takes a deep breath through his nose, an irritating pinch forming between his eyebrows the more you indulge his father, dawning the smile only reserved for your husband: hugging him close between your mounds of breasts as he releases a deep moan and licks up your neck.

His stomach churns the longer he watches, shoving himself to stand and move to the jacuzzi where he can’t help but to still watch from, ignoring the daggers his father’s eyes shoot at him on his way in. He won’t dare enter the pool while the two of you canoodle in there, preferring to stay clueless as to what your lower halves could be up to, the sight of his dad’s thick ugly hands cupping your breasts from is behind already enough to make him gag.. maybe if not for the shocked moan you let out, wrapping around his wrists shyly. “Babe.. we’re not alone.”

You whisper, but Jeno traces the words from your lips, ducking lower into the jacuzzi until one of the jets rumbles against his stomach, chin grazing under the hot water.

“Ignore him.” His dad could give two fucks, squeezing under your chest with more firmness, pushing them together creating a long dip of cleavage.

Jeno can see the lack of comfort in your hidden gaze, keeping your eyelids lowered with a demure embarrassed smile, saving face only for your husband's pleasure. He knows if you couldn’t sense another pair of eyes on you, you’d be your usual bubbly coquettish self, flouncing around burying his dad’s face in your chest, giggling all loud and cute.

The thrill of watching your discomfort escalate makes his cock kick up, lowering down onto his knees for only his eyes to peer over the jacuzzi’s ledge, noticing the way your gaze skirts by quickly to not give him enough acknowledgment to feel seen, but to stay aware of just how much your step-son can see. It’s easy from the angle to remove his father’s existence behind you, especially when he shifts closer to the ledge and one of the jets blasts right against his groin.

A shiver runs up his chest, biting down on his bottom lip as he stays transfixed on your flimsily covered breasts abused and bounced around. He has to hold back a curse when he finally unties his swim trunks, tugging free his length right in front of the burst of bubbled water. The pressure pushing out of the jet breaks against his slit, choking down a groan when your gaze finally meets his, mouth tense and ashamed.

He can’t keep a smile off his face, tugging harder at himself as your forehead wrinkles together, breathily arched up by the force pushing your breasts up and down against the splash of blue chlorine water.

The water around him boils against his skin even hotter, short of breath under the heat, short of breath from the image of your lips parting open. Jeno imagines you can bend your neck forward and wrap around his girth passing between your tits, it wouldn't be hard to reach anyway. Jerking up, he pushes against the jet hole, cock instantly engulfed by an intense amount of pressure blowing out against him. The push and pull only causes his stomach to clench, sink in and hollow out his middle-section.

You were doing a better job at ignoring him before, unable to stop for seconds now to watch your step-son’s facial features contort together… he can’t, he wouldn’t..

Nostrils flare, shoulders hidden under the bubbly foam around him, jerking mindlessly into the jet. It’s like breaking a dam over and over again, the pressure of release spilling out against his thick size, the only thing missing being your convulsing slick warmth squeezing and fighting to push him free as he thrusts in harder, fucking you full beyond capacity you can handle.

Jeno could care less about the predicament he’s landed in here, stroking his cock without control like some wild animal, succumbing to his desires and needs to bend you into all kinds of positions. He knows he can too after weeks of watching you move your body bonelessly, get you twisted up like a pretzel, face down ass up, legs behind your head full-nelson you flat on your back with his dick full slotted inside, grinding down just to watch you fail to squirm away. He’d leave you with no room to move, let alone breathe, fat tits pushed up under your chin, jiggling up and down and up and down with each thrust.

“Fuck.” He’s close now, tongue lolling out at the gasp that hitches in your throat. Siren-like eyes glazed over from the constant manipulation your breasts have been put through. What a fucking pervert, watching you struggle to collect yourself and maintain your etiquette.

Does his dad even savor the way every inch of your body tastes? Does he suck on your tits until your nipples pebble up rock hard and dig into the roof of his mouth? Jeno never see’s a mark on you, no… daddy doesn’t play rough with his toys, does he.

Jeno would though, fuck he’d have you screaming to the high heavens. He can’t hide the bob of his head the closer he reaches, catching your fully widened eyes stuck on him, and your bikini top finally coming undone after minutes of tugging and kneading.

Hands too large to be yours come up just a second too late to cover over your exposed nipples allowing Jeno the chance to see how swollen and pert and big they’ve gotten, probably prodding at his dad’s hideous rough palms.

The wet bounce of fat under his control has him emptying out into the jet, most of his release blown away from the powerful stream mixing in with the rest of the ramped jacuzzi water.

He has to calm himself, overheated from the drop back down to reality, overheated from the sun burning down onto the already steamy hot tub of water. Taking his time, he’s lazy to exit, patting off his reddened chest and stinging skin to a somewhat dry finish. The heat hardly subsides with eyes on him, specifically yours..

“I said scram you damn brat.”

His father’s shrill tone gives him an excuse to glance over, most of your frame hidden by his wide back stretched around you to hug you against the pool wall for discretion to tie your top back up.

“Yeah yeah, don’t wait up for me.” Not that he would, Jeno didn’t really mean that for his father anyway. The lingering gaze grazing down his body taking in every crevice and dip of bare naked muscle though, part of him hopes that you will wait up. He means it though, even with one more glance your direction before heading inside, finding your eyes for only a millisecond.

Don’t wait up mommy, I’ll be too busy fucking any hole presented to me, maybe even multiple. Anything to curb the incessant growing need to get you alone, slam you down and fuck you until you’re ripping that ring off your finger.

Jeno has to admit, he’s impressed by how long you’ve held it together, managed to keep up your composure around him despite his best efforts to make you start to crack.

Soon. Real soon.

“You’re around the house way too much, either get a job or get out.” Jeno’s father barged into his bedroom after that little pool escapade. Throwing pamphlets for schools across the country at his face. “I put enough money in your bank account, it’s time for you to quit fucking around and make something of yourself.

Jeno knows deep down inside his father’s ulterior motivation came from an all too pretty adorable wife, evidently unhappy with the way his son has decided to forgo his gym membership in favor of walking around shirtless dripping in sweat after using the home equipment.

He couldn’t put up much of an argument with the old man. It’s not entirely your fault he found his ass on a train 7 hours away the next week, just in time for a new semester.

Sure, it’s not entirely your fault, he can’t put all of that insecure assholes blame on you.

But it is your fault, and that long silent train ride gave him all the time to ponder, reflect, plot, devise the next step. Work harder, fuck more, leave you with no choice but to wipe the drool from your chin at the mere sight of your step-son.

If only it could be that easy. He really can’t stand how reluctant you are to trip and fall, landing right into the palm of his hands breasts first. Can’t stand the way you still parade around town proudly introducing yourself as the Mrs. Lee. The side-eyes and whispers never affect you, too happy to give a damn with each guiltless swipe of your husband’s black American Express.

God, he can’t stand it. He can’t stand you.

Jeno really can’t stand his step-mom.

Not because you’re awful or even a bitch, no.. in fact, you’re perfect. Too perfect for his nasty cheater asshole father who could care less for his mother, now ex-wife.

“Ah Jeno, it’s so nice to have you home again.” Your sweet cheerful voice interrupts his fuming thoughts, the back of his head instantly relaxing in the mound of your breasts as you circle his neck and lean down to hug him. “You hungry? I stocked up on all of your favorites.”

Nuzzling back into your warm embrace, he sighs, eyes drifting shut to inhale the notes of peach and cucumber wafting from your freshly cleansed skin. Supple soft radiant skin he knows you spend meticulous hours of the day exfoliating, lotioning, massaging with oil only for your useless husband to rub his old disgusting rough hands upon.

“Missed cooking for me?” He mumbles, shifting to bury his nose in the column of your throat to fully immerse himself in your savory scent.

“Look how skinny you’ve come back, that school not feeding you properly or something?” You reprimand, patting over his flat stomach lightly. “I have to make sure to keep you full for the next couple of weeks before your break ends.”

Nudging the top of his head with your chin, you continue into the kitchen, still in your silky pajama set. Something short, hardly covering your abundant chest, dad wouldn’t have his young little trophy wife any other way, always ready for the taking.

Jeno can only imagine how many mornings his father has snuck up on you making breakfast, bending you over to fill you up before heading to work. Fucking bastard doesn’t deserve to even touch you, let alone any of those fake moans you must practice to please him.

“Are you worried about me?” Jeno’s chair scratches across the kitchen tile, slowly lifting up to get a better look at your buttcheeks squeezed by your panties, innocently bent over in search of a pan. “Maybe the school cafeteria doesn’t serve anything that satisfies my hunger.”

“I’ll fix that,” too distracted on your hunt for the right spices and oils, you fail to notice how close Jeno’s gotten, hovering behind you with a smirk as your robe slips from your shoulder. “You’re the one who wanted to go to school so far away. You could be eating my home cooking everyday if you’d just stayed local.”

“…is that so?” A grin teases at his lips, halting your hand from adjusting your robe to push it down left to fall at your feet.

A shiver runs up your spine sensing his breath fanning across your shoulder, palms smoothing down your waist to your hips. “Jeno?”

“I’m hungry, mommy.”

“Jeno? Wha—“ your hips stay locked in place, shoved against the kitchen counter by the stronger ones behind you knocking forward to trap you.

“I missed you too, mommy.” Shoving his hips forward, Jeno’s girth slots between your flimsily covered ass, rutting quickly to lodge between and create delicious friction against his cock. “You know what I really missed?”

“Je-Jeno.. what are you..”

“Last summer when you moved in, every different ridiculously tiny bikini you wore around the pool. Your fat tits barely contained, just how dad likes it huh? I guess we have that in common.” Keeping you held against the counter with his hips grinding in circles against your ass, hands find a way to your shoulders, swiftly dropping down the straps of your nightgown leaving your breast to bounce out freely. The morning crisp air circulating around the house breezes past your nipples, hardening the buds instantaneously.

“Sweetie, this.. this isn’t right, your dad—“

“Is an asshole.” Jeno bites, cupping your breasts that overflow in his hold, the fat squeezing between his digits pushing out a low groan from deep within his chest. “Fucking decrepit dickhead, bet he can’t even get hard from this alone? I’ve seen that erectile dysfunction prescription.. can’t even take care of you and fuck you right can he, mommy?”

To emphasize his point, Jeno’s hips swerve, fucking forward vigorously for the thick shape of his rod to slam between your panty covered behind, night gown bunched up over your hips from his incessant humping. “Can’t tell me a pretty young thing like you doesn’t miss it, hours and hours of getting the life fucked out of you.”

The kneading and massaging at your chest accompanied with your step-sons evidently large size has you panting, hands gripping the kitchen counter for some relief. Shaking your head, you try to ignore the way your hips rut back to find his, biting back a moan from escaping. “Jeno, please.. sweetie, d-don’t—your dad..”

A rough slap under your breast silences you, the fat rippling under Jeno’s strength as he delivers another slap, working in succession to bounce and smack each with his chin perched over your shoulder rambling on and on about how good you look like this. Perfectly pliant, needy, face full of ecstasy all thanks to your step-son.

“Dad has great taste, I’ll give the old fuck that.” Jeno snickers, teeth digging into the vein lining the side of your throat. “Had me hard as a rock fucking into my fist all summer, tried to get over you by filling up any hole.. couldn’t get your pretty body off my mind.”

“Jeno, baby.. w-we can’t. Your dad, he’ll.. he’ll kill you.”

Breath staggers against your neck at the term of endearment, hips fucking against you in earnest. “You think I fucking care about him? What about you? What about this mess you’ve made mommy? How can you do this to me? Tempt me all the time with these perfect fucking tits and expect me to leave you alone now?”

“I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry Jeno.. I didn’t—“

“Baby, I’m your baby.” Jeno pinches your nipples roughly, pulling and slapping forcing a loud echo of skin on skin to barrel across the kitchen. Jackhammering his hips faster against your ass. “Tell me to stop, don’t fucking tell me what dad wants. You tell me to stop.”

“B-baby… I-I…” a sad pathetic cry sounds, dropping forward loosely as your thighs tremble erratically, held up only the rough grip on your chest undoubtedly leaving behind marks of nails and bruising.

“Must be true.” Jeno grunts, shoving your underwear down. “Like father, like son.”

“Jeno, please, you can’t do this!” It’s harder now to fight him off, roughly taken by your chest, fondled like some little doll only there to pleasure him. “If—if he finds out—“

“Don’t worry about that senial bastard, he wouldn’t be able to read a sign even if it was spelled out for him.” Your step-son doesn’t relent, fucking against your panties roughly until the his stiffed up cock shoves the material between your ass. “You’re so wet for me, you feel that? Feel me?”

Jeno thrusts forward angling his size right between your poorly clenched thighs, ass bouncing back against his pelvic bone. “Think you can handle that? Too big for you mommy?” He reaches down to whip out his cock, expertly dragging his fully hard length out to slot against your soaked covered core. The contact makes his eyes roll up, long eyelashes fluttering rapidly impairing his vision for a minute as his size drags against the wet shape of your cunt.

“Oh fuck fuck.” Jeno refuses to cum like this, even if his stomach muscles contort and suck in viciously. He swallows down a hissed breath, jerking back to fuck against your drenched panties in earnest.

“J-Jeno.. please!”

“You want it, huh? Wanna get fucked by a big fat cock finally?” Jeno bites back a laugh, mostly a groan as the tip of his cock ruts against your clit. “Daddy can’t fuck you the way you need, can’t get you off. When’s the last time you had a real orgasm? Not that whiny shit you fake for him.”

Inner-turmoil loses to your arousal, forced to slide up and down what feels like a forearm between your thighs. Your good sense dissipates the more your cunt spreads around the girth pushing between your folds, aching to feel each pulsating vein lining your step-son’s length drag against your wet slick pussy.

“I’m… fuck Jeno..” between gasps and choked back moans, you weakly give him a thrusts back, faintly meeting his motion to rut against your clit and create a mind-numbing friction.

One of his palms lands against your ass like a crack of a whip, sending your chest to collide forward and press against the cool marble of the kitchen counter. “What did you call me?”

Gathering your underwear, Jeno pulls the material aside, sucking spit away that's gathered around his thirsty tongue upon seeing your cunt so ready to be wrecked and fucked. “Look at that tight hole, like a virgin. No way daddy’s fucking you right.”

You’re grateful that your brain hasn’t fully failed you yet, even with your step-son’s thick palms spreading your ass open continuing to spew nonsense out about the appearance of your perfect pussy. God knows you’d beg and confess how badly you need to cum— cum around your husband's son’s monster sized cock. “How am I going to fit in there mommy? I’m way too big for you.”

Jeno sounds sadistic, hawking out spit that lands and drips down to your entrance. “Should I be nice and prep you?” He laughs, a fake laugh, a mocking teasing laugh. “That would be too nice of me, wouldn’t it?”

He leans over your back, reaching for the basket of fruits and vegetables just past your head. “Should I be nice?”

Long fingers wrap around one of the cucumbers half hanging out of the basket, dragging the vegetable down to smack against your cheek. The solid food slaps your skin heavy and rough, making your step-son smile wide, highly pleased by the shame wrinkling your forehead together. “Mommy’s always so nice to me, always takes care of me so well.” Jeno taunts, leaning back and tapping the vegetable down your spine to run between your buttcheeks.

“I shouldn’t be too mean..” the thick tip of the cucumber meets your entrance, cold against your heated core making your hips shiver forward to get away.

“Baby..”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He presses in, cursing between gritted teeth as he watches you stretch open around the vegetable. It’s big, even then no competition for how wide the tip of his dick is alone. “Opening up so so pretty for me, mommy.”

He fucks the cucumber inside of you just half-way, sending your toes to arch up from the floor and scramble to grab at the kitchen counter; threatening to cut open your bottom lip with how hard you bite down to keep in a moan. The whole situation makes you feel dirty, disgusting, ashamed that you couldn’t stop him. That deep down inside you know you’d never stop him, you want it too much. Form the day you noticed your step-son watching you stretch from his bedroom window, to the time you caught a glimpse of him by the bathroom door as you scrubbed down and rinsed your naked body clean. You’ve always wanted him to make a move.

Maybe you’d been dreaming of this moment all along, adding your ingredients to the pot everyday until everything boiled over and spilled past the rim.

“So fucking nasty mommy.” Jeno keeps mumbling, thrusting the vegetable in and out of you, enthralled by the way it comes out stickier, coated with a thick layer of sheen. The wet dripping out past your cunt with each fill, spilling down your inner thighs to the kitchen floor like some whore that needs to be fucked and bred everyday. “Taking it so good, you’ll take me even better.”

His throbbing length slaps against your hip with each push and pull against your insides, hissing and groaning behind you the closer he reaches to stumbling over the edge. “You want that mommy? Want me to fuck you so good, make you forget about that huge rock weighing down your finger.”

Jeno doesn’t let you answer, not noticing the way you curl your hand into a fist to tuck away your wedding ring before discarding the cucumber as he rips you off the counter to shove you down to your knees.

“Fuck.” Gripping around his length he strokes quickly, reaching down to pull on one of your nipples and watch the fat perky mound jiggle under his ministrations.

“Gonna cum all over your perfect tits, push them together for me mommy.” Jeno slaps your breast impatiently, balls tight and tensed up between his thighs doing his best to stave off his orgasm from barreling out.

Eyes filled with big watery tears gaze up in a daze, cupping your substantial fat tits together making the perfect little pocket pussy for his cock to slide between. “Oh fuckkk.”

Jeno’s neck drops forward, slamming up between your squished breasts. Teeth grinding together to stop himself from screaming at the visual of your heavy perfect tits bouncing around his size, the tip of his length nearly hitting under your chin with each thrusts up against your chest. “So good mommy, so fucking good!”

Jeno reaches for your jaw, squeezing in roughly and smacking your cheek to pop open your lips. “Just like that, so fucking hot.” It’s everything he’s dreamt about. Nights stuck inside of his dorm room looking up milf porn, step-son breeding step-mom, juicy breasts bouncing on his computer screen that could never compare to how good this feels.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He cries out, thrusting against your chest harder, forcing the weight of your breasts up and back down into your palms, bouncing deliciously. Slapping your cheek again, digits dig into your cheeks and drop a wad of spit in. Pleased from his high up angle as you stay open and let him watch it glide down to the back of your throat. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

Jeno tugs away, cock slapping down on your parted lips before reaching for the tip to squeeze around and release into your mouth. “Swallow all of it.” He moans out, circling your throat with his other hand to feel himself slide down. “That’s it, so good for me mommy.”

The smug smile he gives you before hoisting you up to sit on the table you share meals with your husband at lets you know this is far from over. “Don’t be rude mommy.” Jeno pouts, pushing space for himself between your thighs. Soft palms stroke up and down almost like a warning. “Say thank you.”

He smirks, sinking down to bury between your thighs and proceed to use his tongue in ways your husband never has.

“Dinner looks great!” Your poor unsuspecting husband sits down right where his son had his meal with you mere hours ago(one that had your back split up in an arch and your eyes meeting the back of your skull), hands clasped together before the plate you serve him.

“Now now,” Jeno chimes in, moving to stand from the dinner table to grab a bowl from the fridge. “I see no greens on that plate, didn’t your doctor warn you about that high cholesterol?”

Your husband eyes his son suspiciously, too focused on the little brat to see the sheer panic running over your face behind his side. “I found this new cucumber salad recipe, I think you’ll really like it dad.”

He smiles, an endearing sweet genuine smile, a smile that could easily make you forget what type of evil menace you’re really dealing with here. “Here, try it out.”

To your absolute horror, Jeno sets down a bowl of seasoned, finely chopped, and wet cucumber before his father, nodding eagerly.

“You put poison in this or something?” He grumbles, stabbing at the slices before shoving a batch into his mouth and chomping with a pleased hum. “Not bad, not bad at all. What’s that flavor?”

His son grins wide, eyes large and full of mirth.

“I knew you’d like it, got a kick to it right?” He blinks up to meet your mortified gaze, biting down on your fingernails as your mind shouts frantically- he wouldn’t!.. he would!.. no, no, HE WOULDN’T.

As if he can read your thoughts, Jeno winks at you, clapping his father on the shoulder. “I guess we have the same taste, daddy.”

“Don’t dare bother to throw any parties while I’m gone.” Jeno’s father glares at him, pointer finger digging between his chest. “No funny business you hear me? You need to show your step-mom some respect.”

Jeno has a hard time hiding a smug smirk, having to bite down on the insides of his cheeks to contain himself. “Oh dad, trust me, I will show her nothing but the utmost respect. You have nothing to worry about.”

His father squints, skepticism crossing his wrinkled features as he takes in his son’s face once more before heading out to bid you a long goodbye filled with lingering wet kisses.

“Right. You know what? These vacation breaks from school really seem unnecessary. Why can’t you be normal and go on trips to different party cities like the rest of the guys your age?” He scoffs, waving him off flippantly, not even a hug? Jeno clutches his chest dramatically, following after to watch the two of you say your goodbyes from the top of the staircase.

“If he bothers you..” Thick calloused fingers hold your chin delicately, nothing like the nimble boney ones that dug into your face just a few days ago and forced your mouth open to spit past your tongue. Jeno doesn’t really care to tune in, more amused than anything by the little act you keep up. Such a cute young sweet house-wife, more dolled up than your usual for a morning session of pilates. The extra effort put into your appearance no doubt for his father’s benefit, a pretty vision for him to leave behind. It’s not as if the 2 minutes it took for him to fuck you this morning wasn’t enough for the old man.

Jeno hums to himself, catching your line of sight before you follow after his dad to say bye from the driveway as he enters his ride to the airport. Maybe that’s fear in your eye, but excitement builds up his chest nonetheless; you’ll have no arms to run to now. Nowhere to hide that he won’t be able to find you, no asshole of a father to whisk you away from him. At least not for the next foreseeable 24 hours.

That’s why he goes back to bed, his father rudely awoke him this morning with a loud cursed groan after climaxing out of breath and falling onto your bed with a loud thud. He’s surprised the old man hasn’t keeled over and died yet trying to get his rocks off with you. Jeno sighs thinking about the past few days as he lays back down and buries his face into his pillow, you really have been doing a great job of avoiding him.

That doesn’t mean he misses the silent glances and hesitant looks, or the stiffness in your spine whenever he so much as passes by. No, he notices everything you do, even how you’ve been locking your bedroom door when taking showers now. It’s cute really, a game more than anything now as he rests his eyes and hums, imagining you’ve come back inside and surveillanced the downstairs area for your big scary step-son, probably sighing in relief that he’s left you alone. For now.

He’ll let you get your lovely perfect morning routine on, build up a nice sweat that gets your heart racing, high off endorphins from stretching and straining your muscles with various exercises. He’d prefer it that way really, and judging from the time— soon, soon you’ll be on your way to the kitchen to refresh with a nice chill glass of electrolytes. What a pleasant easy life his father has granted you, all you have to grant him in return is your body. It’s no wonder you work daily to keep up appearances for the old man.

Jeno’s mother had never cared much to fulfill his father’s porngraphic ideals of how women should look and act, but you, ah he really struck gold with you. He can’t deny that if he had found you first, he would have ate you alive.

“Oh.”

Your step-son’s not surprised to see you exit the newly renovated makeshift room filled with gym equipment(that used to be for his gaming consoles), gently patting your sweat glistened skin off as the door opens and unveils him standing there across from you expectantly.

“Figured you wouldn’t want me to share such a small space with you.” Jeno says, making no effort to disguise his gaze, dragging down from your chest to your hips and stopping between your thighs to moisten his lips. “All sweaty, out of breath, making sounds that could read as inappropriate..”

Tight-lipped, you nod and ignore him before stepping out and motioning inside the gym room. “All yours.”

“Everything?”

Jeno’s arm launches forward before you can take another step, pausing you dead in your tracks against the hallway wall, a less than innocent grin stares back at you. He cocks an eyebrow, following the beads of sweat raining down your forehead at faster speed the closer he inches forward until you’re pressed up against the wall with little room to free yourself.

“You thought I’d make this easy, didn’t you?” He huffs through his nose, bending at his neck to perch his nostrils right above your throat and swallow down the fresh scent of your hard work. “Burned up a real good sweat for daddy?”

“Jeno, can we talk first at least?” You squirm, leaning back as much as you can with feet flat to the ground in an attempt to slither down the wall inconspicuously. “I don’t want your dad to suspect anything, what happened the other day..”

“When you came around my tongue and begged me to fuck you?” He interrupts, pressing his forehead forward to hold yours in place, voice gruff and deep. “Or when daddy enjoyed his meal? Were you scared mommy? Don’t worry, I won’t let him do anything to you.”

“That’s not it, I’m married to your father!” You smack his chest to push yourself free, digging your palms into his muscular pecs without much budge. The contact only riles him up more, releasing a growl and bumping his nose closer to yours. “Please! Jeno, I’m all sweaty and disgusting. Let me take a shower first at least.”

“Why would I let you do that? And ruin all of this for me?” This being the sweat Jeno proceeds to lick from the divet between your collarbone, slurping his way down to your ample breasts squeezed snuggly inside of a tight sports bra. “Fuck, you taste so fucking good.”

Hearing his praise only makes you squeamish, struggling more to shove him away and break free from his biceps bracketed around you. “Please, I smell! Don’t be gross!”

It’s laughable to even ask this of your step-son, especially after having to sit and watch your husband munch away on a phallic shaped vegetable that his son had just used to get you off with.

“I’m gonna need you to shut up mommy,” Jeno scoops the soaked fabric of your bra under your breasts, pushed up higher forming two round mounds perfect for sucking on. “Nothing gross about you, or this.” Teeth bury into the perky fat of your chests, sucking roughly, rough enough to hurt but not leave marks behind.

Jeno can’t stop his hips from rutting forward, grinding his aching thickening cock against your stomach. His basketball shorts don’t do much to conceal how hard he is already, having chubbed up in his room from the thought alone of what he planned to do to you today. He has enough respect for you to leave no signs of bruising behind on your chest, but that doesn’t mean he cares when you cry out to stop again and pull away with your weak nails scratching at the wall.

“You really want me to stop?” He asks, cock dragging up and down from between your pelvis to just above your navel. “Tell me the truth mommy, I know he can’t fuck you the way I can. Know you’re desperate for it, want your sweet little step-son to hang you off his fat 9 inch cock? Come on mommy.” Jeno’s drooling between each word, slathering your chest in spit between his muffled speech and consistently sucking. “Admit it, wanna get fucked so bad.”

“N-no.. please, baby, don’t—“

Jeno’s chest rumbles, groaning loudly as he reaches to pull your bra off, rolling the wet material up for your breasts to bounce out lewdly. The smack of your chest meeting the top of your ribcage and breasts clapping together makes you squeal, quickly shutting your eyes in shame.

“Fuck, so sexy mommy. Don’t hide from me, don’t hide any of this from me.” He squeezes your chest roughly, jutting your nipples out to form perfect taut pacifiers to suck on. Jeno’s tongue works feverishly, sucking and licking at your pert buds until they fully harden to a painful point under the vacuuming pull from his mouth.

Jeno leaves your chest swollen, blood rushed to the skin he’s sucked on viciously. He hums, examining how heavy they weigh down in his palms, gripping and kneading, shoving his face between your cleavage just to hear you squeal and struggle to inch away from him. So damn cute.

“That old assholes really manipulated you well,” he grumbles, licking up the trickles of sweat dripping down from your nape to your shoulders and chest. “Has you thinking this is gross? That you are gross? What the fuck is wrong with him, huh? I should kick his fucking ass.”

“Don’t talk about your dad like that..” you whimper, biting back a moan when he bites and tugs at one of your hard nipples, jiggling your other breast against his face. Even with your mind battling between lust and guilt, you can’t help but to feel bad.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Jeno whispers, leaning in to plant a firm kiss on your lips to shut you up. “He doesn’t even appreciate you.”

His hand cups between your legs, making your thighs lock around his wrist as he cups your sweat soaked mound. Shorts still wet after your vigorous workout. “Baby, not there, please please.”

“Mommy, I’m not going to tell you to be fucking quiet again.” He grins, licking your lips before sliding down your body to his knees. Jeno peers up, eyes sparkling in a dreamy almost innocent way, like a kid in a candy store. “I’m nothing like him.”

To prove his point, his face drops forward between your legs. The fight you put up to keep him out is useless, overpowered by his much larger stronger size as his arms come to wrap around your thighs and pull you apart allowing for his nose to drag up and down your sweaty slick soaked workout shorts.

“Jeno!” Your neck drops back weakly, eyes rolling shut at the sensation of your step-son pulling the material of your shorts with the suction of his mouth alone. Tonguing and sucking on the fabric to absorb the remnants of sweat that poured down and collected between your thighs. Pulling on his hair serves you no advantage, completely under his control as he grinds your cunt against his face roughly.

The only resolution you find comes from covering your face to hide your moans of pleasure, whimpering into your hands the more he licks between your folds shaped by your thin shorts clinging to your center.

Jeno sounds like a rabid animal down there, devouring his way through the best meal he’s ever had. The first sound of a rip sends your spine to straighten out, reaching back down to pull on his hair. “What are you doing!”

He groans, more turned on by your hands digging into his scalp and pulling roughly. Scooping around your thighs for more leverage, Jeno pulls at your shorts and bites down the seam until they give, ripping enough of a hole for his digits to push through and expand. A growl vibrates against your center as he dives in, teething your thin underwear away to roll his tongue against your clit.

“Oh my Go—“ out of breath you arch against his mouth, head shaking side to side and banging into the wall behind you. “Jeno!”

His tongue hardens and swirls against your clit, stimulating each nerve until your feet kick against his back and your hips jerk forward enough to ride his face. He can hardly breathe between your thighs, unbothered by the lack of air reaching his brain as he strokes your clit in expert motion until your cunt spasms against his mouth. Shouting out with your palm hitting flat against the wall as you release down his chin, entrance rocking along the lower half of his face despite the sensitivity throbbing around your middle.

Jeno laps at his mouth like a thirsty dog, slapping your exposed core before moving to stand and wrap around your waist to ensure you can’t run. Not that you will.

“You ready for it.” Resting your hand on his groin, your step-son rushes you up the stairs, scooping under your thighs to reach your bedroom faster.

“In here?!?” You grimace, head shaking to begin pleading. “Not where we slee—“

“Hush.” Jeno doesn’t give you more of an opportunity to argue, immediately hooking into your shorts and underwear to pull them off, only throwing them aside after stuffing the wet fabric under his nose to get a deep inhale. “God damn.”

As much as he wants to let this moment wash over him, the reality of having his wildest fantasy come true, laid out flat in his prick of a father’s bed, legs spread open showing off the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen; Jeno can’t deny how badly he needs to fuck you before he cums in his pants. He’s never been this turned on before, slapping your thigh as he reaches to turn you over onto your stomach, cunt all shiny and raw from the back, squished between your legs making his head spin even more somehow. There’s no way in fucking hell his dad deserves you, not one bit.

Reaching to shove down his shorts, Jeno pats his pocket for his phone, swiping it out discreetly to hit record and perch the device against one of your pillows; making sure to keep it out of your sight before he adjusts between the backs of your thighs. “I’ll fuck your ass too.” He says with a stroke of his thumb between your buttcheeks. “Gonna need more cucumbers for that though.” He snickers, finding a photo from your honeymoon framed on your bedside table, the side you sleep on of course.

Flipping off his father’s cheesy grin, he reaches over to slam the photo down. This is his moment after all, no one else's.

He’d never let you know how raging hard his dick feels right now, lining up the tip to your waiting hole. Having to roll his tongue back to stop himself from blurting out the amount of times he’s busted a nut into his hand, on his stomach, fuck even the pool jacuzzi jets more than a few times by now. All thanks to his precious step-mom, so carelessly displaying every inch of skin, fueling his perverse brain more than you even realize

“Knew you’d take it so good for me,” it’s better than getting a taste of you, which he didn’t think was possible. The stretch of your cunt expanding around his wide girth, skin pulled over the head of his cock struggling to keep him out and somehow pull him in at the same time.

“Gonna fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.” Jeno says in a more cocky tone, feeling more confident than ever now with half of his length inching inside of you. Pussy walls trembling around his size, sucking around the fat meat pulsing its way inside. No college slut, no amount of lotion to aid his palm, no graphic image available on a free adult website would ever come close to this.

Fully sheathed inside, he sounds out of breath, listening to your whimpers and moans you try to hide with your bedding tugged between your teeth. He glances at his phone quickly, positioning himself to pull out slowly and fall into a rapid pace, dropping his lower half to yours faster and faster until you’re screaming out. The way you scramble to grab onto something—arms flailing out to grab your bed for purchase only encourages him to fuck you faster. Slapping your ass with each powerful thrust.

“Best dick you’ve ever taken, don’t fucking lie to me.” Jeno demands, delivering another harsh slap to your ass before ramming forward balls deep. The collision of his palm cracks around your bedroom, knocking a loud cry from your chest. You nod rabidly in response, gasping deliriously with each pointed thrust. “Say it! Who fucks you this good!”

“You! You baby! Only you!” His phone’s camera stays angled filming your sides, albeit shaky and hard to capture the complete fucked out devestation that’s taken over your pretty face, it’s enough. Enough for him to get off to later, enough to get his way every single time if he needs to.

“That’s right,” Jeno angles his hips to fuck you full with each heavy land of his lower half, pushing your ass up with every clapping shout of skin on skin sounding out between your bodies. “Only me, only your baby.”

The camera tips over, screen gone black directed at the ceiling only recording the sounds of your moans and broken words between each other, Jeno’s gruff heavy panting breaths. The crash of your bodies rocking your headboard against your bedroom wall in a way he’s never once heard his father achieve.

“I’ll never stop fucking you now.” His bicep locks under your chin, forcing your waist to arch forward almost painfully; just enough to strain your lower back. “You’re mine.”

He follows with a growl, lips pressed up to your cheek, laving at whatever skin he’s able to reach. With another roll of his hips, he comes to a still, the thick muscle of his arm around your neck popping out in flex as his body tightens up and locks around your throat. Biting back a moan, Jeno’s release pours inside of you, hot and thick ropes of cum aimed deep inside of you before pulling out the rest of the way to spill between your ass and thighs. “Fuck!”

He sighs, kissing the top of your head to make sure your eyes have shut before reaching for his phone to record the beautiful mess left on your body. He wants to keep going on about how his dad will never fuck you to the point of nearly passing out, dragging his fingers through the mix of your releases before bringing them to his mouth to suck on.

One taste and Jeno knows he won’t stop fucking you until that ring slips off your finger for good.

“Hope he wasn’t too much to put up with while I was gone.” Your husband wraps around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder. “Next break I’ll have him go stay with his mother.”

“It’s okay my love, he really doesn’t bother me..”

“Hmm, well he sure bothers me.” He sighs, burying his nose into your hair. “Trying a new shampoo?”

“No…” you hold back from making a face, not having had time to thoroughly clean yourself all squeaky clean thanks to your step-son fucking you through the night.

“Oh..” his nose scrunches, pulling away at the sensation of his phone vibrating against your hip. “God, what the hell can this kid want now?”

It has to be Jeno. As unsuspecting as you can, you shift to peer over your shoulder where your husband stands with his eyebrows twisted together. “Why did he send me a video.”

He presses play, immediately setting off your fight or flight response and mentally mumbling off a thank you for the kitchen counter keeping you steady on your feet. The sound of your moans blast from your husband’s phone accompanied by heavy deep grunts, skin clapping against skin and his phone screen covered by the image of your lower half rippling under the weight of your step-sons brutal unrelenting thrusts.

“What in the—“

“Oh my god!” You shriek, slapping a hand over your mouth to quiet your shock. Another text pops up at the top of the screen not even a minute later.

Jeno- ‘Sorry about that dad, meant to text that to my group chat. My mistake.’

“This fucking kid.” Your husband mutters, continuing to watch the video with squinted eyes. “The time stamp on this is from the other night?”

To your horror, he looks at you with an even more confused expression, swiping the video away before it comes to an end. “Did that little shit have someone over? After I made myself clear—“

“He went out!” You blurt out, nodding and catching yourself with a grip on the counter behind your back. “I didn’t think to mention it, but he went out that night. Don’t know when he came back.”

Your husband nods, glaring back at his phone. “I guess he got that insatiable sex drive from me.” He grins at that, humored by his own intrigue watching the girl his son was hooking up with. “Got my type too.” Leaving out the part about a tight little ass, he leans over to grab yours with a squeeze and plants a kiss on your cheek.

You offer a laugh, forcing it to sound less uncomfortable than you feel. “You should delete that text babe, I don’t like that you could be looking at other girls when I’m right here.”

“Is my sweet angel jealous?” He chuckles, slapping your butt and opening his phone to show you as he deletes the message. “My son could never land himself a woman that comes close to you, believe me. You have nothing to be worried about.” With a kiss to your lips he makes to exit and head to your bedroom to shower, leaving you alone to collapse against the counter and quell down the urge of panic trapped in your chest.

The buzz from your phone halts your breakdown, grasping over the kitchen island for it to see new messages from your step-son.

Jeno- ‘You think daddy may prefer these?’

Attached are different angles, showing off more of the bed you sleep in with your husband every night, catching peeks of your pleasured face. Jeno’s behind you in the thumbnails sharing an equal image of rolled up eyes and lips parted open. You don’t need to hit play to know how obscene each video must be.

Jeno- ‘You’ll be sure to keep your pretty mouth shut if you know what’s good for you, right? I know you’re a smart girl.’

An image of your legs parted open from behind sends next, backside covered in a mess of your step-son’s cum and wet arousal smeared around your thighs.

Jeno- ‘Be good for me mommy.’

Cold brew - Na Jaemin

pairing: barista!jaemin x barista!reader

genre: fluff, angst; enemies to lovers, coffee shop au

synopsis: at the coffee shop you work at, there's always this regular who comes and orders the same cup of cold brew coffee every morning without fail. you end up having a rather rude interaction with him one morning when you accidentally spill his coffee on him before his job interview – which turns out to be for the very same coffee shop you're working at. it doesn't matter to you that he got the job, but the fact that he's always on the same shift as you never fails to get on your nerves. Will the two of you sort out your feud, or will the both of you continue to brew these cold feelings towards each other? 

a/n: this is a very VERY long overdue fic for @hcsarchive ! i’m really really sorry for the long hiatus y’all, and for the decline in quality of writing and banner design :”) but to star, i genuinely hope you enjoy this fic that i churned up at 2 in the morning, and that your life will be filled with joy and many many good things! it’s been great having you as my friend, though we haven’t interacted much </3 I promise i’ll try to be more active here <3

"One venti cold brew for Na Jaemin!" you call, voice ringing out through the coffee shop amid the clinking of mugs and cutlery and cool jazz music playing in the background. As expected, a young man clad in a mint green hoodie and jeans rushes up to the counter. His soft, ebony-black bangs fall over his coffee-brown eyes as he claims his drink from you with a muffled "thanks" before scurrying off again, black backpack hanging from his back and laptop case in hand. 

"He came again?" Lia asks, popping a pastry into the oven and setting the timer.

You nod in response. “Na Jaemin. Here every morning, at the exact same time ordering the exact same thing”.

"Aren't many of our customers like this too?" Lia questions, uncertain as to why you suddenly brought up this particular customer. 

"Yeah, but they're not always here at the exact same time every day – sometimes they come a few minutes earlier or later. And even if they have regular orders, they sometimes order different things. This guy is here at 7 am on the dot every day without fail, and he always, always orders a venti size cold brew. I don't recall him having ordered anything different," you explain to Lia as the timer on the oven goes off, and you take the croissant out. 

"Wow, how are you so observant towards these details outside of his regular drink order? It's as if you're specifically keeping your eye out for his arrival. Are you?" Lia questions, raising her eyebrows at you.

"What the hell, no!" You hurriedly deny.  

"But he's your ideal type, is he not? Brown eyes, black hair, pretty cute," Lia replies with a smirk as she gets to preparing a latte, and in that moment you regret the day you'd spoken about your ideal types to each other. 

"I mean yes, but we don’t even know each other! We’ve barely exchanged any words apart from him mumbling his thanks to me when I pass him his drink,” you protest. 

“So? He comes here every day, you’ll sure have a chance to get to know him better,” Lia insists.

“One grande caffe latte for Kai!” you call out, placing the drink on the counter and flashing a smile at the customer, who says a “thank you”, picks up the drink and casually saunters off, in contrast to how Jaemin had practically flown out the door after collecting his order from you earlier. “I don’t know. Compared to all our other customers, he seems to be in a constant rush. He’s like the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland!”

Still, Lia remains adamant. “Trust me, if he’s your destined soulmate, there will be a way for you both to get to know each other. Really”.

You shrug, getting to work making a java chip frappuccino. “Nah, I don’t think he is. He’s probably just the eye candy who comes into our shop every morning for his daily cold brew”. 

Lia simply hums and turns around to take the next customer’s order, while a mild pang of longing settles in your heart. Yes, you knew he was really just eye candy to you, but a part of you wished that you’d at least be able to interact with him a little and get to know him as an acquaintance at least. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Your wish comes true the next day — or at least the first part of it. You finally get to properly interact with him, past the muffled “thank yous” he would give you whenever you passed him his cold brew every morning. 

But was it pleasant? 

Far from that. 

It’s about 2:30 pm in the afternoon, and the cafe is way more hectic than it should be at this time. Throngs of people flood the cafe, leaving all of the baristas overwhelmed, yourself included.

“I thought people drink morning coffee, not afternoon coffee!” Lia complains, practically sprinting to the other end of the counter, carrying a customer’s order on a black tray. “One blueberry muffin and one vanilla sweet cream cold brew for Shanice!” 

“I know right. Suddenly everyone’s ordering their coffee in the afternoon for some weird reason!” you exclaim, hurrying to save the pastries in the oven before they burned to a crisp. 

Your already-divided attention is briefly stolen by the sight of a familiar face coming in through the door — it’s none other than Na Jaemin. Weird, he already came in the morning, you think to yourself, already moving towards the cold brew machine out of instinct. You can’t help but notice he’s changed out of his usual hoodie and jeans into slacks, a white long-sleeved collared shirt and a blazer, more formal than the casual attire he normally dons, which leads you to think that he has something important on. As soon as you place the pastries on the counter, you head over to the register where Jaemin is to take his order. “Hi, what can I get for you?” you recite the standard phrase.

“One venti cold brew, please,” he states. 

“Alright, I’ll get that for you. Na Jaemin, right?” you ask, picking up a venti-size cup and a marker, scribbling the name on as he nods. 

You put some ice in the cup, and then stride over to where the brewed coffee is stored before dispensing enough to fill the cup. Just as you’re bringing it to the collection point, a voice calls for you. “Y/n! Hurry, there’s more orders!” one of your colleagues yells. 

“Okay, coming soon!” you reply back, calling out Jaemin’s name and order, passing the drink to him and preparing to hurry off. 

Only, you’d been too fast in handing the drink to him and had let go before his hands were properly around the cup, resulting in the cup falling from your hands and spilling coffee all over his shirt. Your jaw falls to the floor along with the cup as you watch his white shirt turn coffee-brown and prepare to offer multiple sincere apologies, maybe even offer to pay for his shirt to be cleaned. 

But before you can do that, he hits the roof. “Ugh! I have a job interview, you idiot! Why are you so careless?” he exclaims, clearly livid. Veins bulge out visibly from his forehead, a clear sign of his fury. Heads snap in your direction as the commotion distracts customers from whatever they were doing previously. 

Annoyance at how Jaemin had unnecessarily blown up at you, coupled with stress from the already overwhelming shift began to take over you, and you had to use every fiber in your being to maintain your professionalism and not hurl the best insult you could think of back at him. “Sir, I’m extremely sorry”. You murmur repeated apologies as you get several wet tissues for him. “I’ll be willing to pay for the cleaning costs, just let me know how much it costs when you next visit us”. 

Unfortunately, this doesn’t seem to appease Jaemin. “That’s not the point. I don’t have spare clothes, you know! Now I might not get my job!” Jaemin exclaims, eyes boring into you accusingly. Unsure of what to say, you remain silent, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish’s. “Thanks a lot, I suppose,” he spits, making sure his sarcasm came across clearly. With that, he takes his half-empty drink cup and stalks off. 

Meanwhile, you’re left with a taste that's even more bitter than the cold brew in your mouth from the encounter. “Wow, that was pretty rude of him,” Lia comments, coming up beside you. “Maybe you should have ensured that he was actually holding the cup before letting go, but that was still out of line on his end”. 

You sigh, shaking your head and turning back to the cash register, preparing to serve the next customer. “Whatever. Let’s forget that this happened”. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

A week has passed since the incident, and you’ve all but forgotten about it, the incident almost having been cleared from your memory completely.

Until you see a familiar face coming in at 2:30 pm — none other than Na Jaemin, the customer who’d yelled at you rather rudely that day when you’d made an honest mistake. “Lia? Can you take this next customer? I’d rather not interact with him again,” you whisper to your co-worker while glaring daggers at him. 

To your surprise, Lia shakes her head. “I don’t think he’s here to order, actually. I think he’s here for his first day on the job”. 

You narrow your eyes at her as a sense of foreboding comes over you. “What do you mean?”

“He’s our new barista, and he’ll be working here part-time. Did no one tell you?” Lia explains, wiping the counter top. “The job interview he mentioned last week — it was for a position here as a barista”. 

“No way. Please tell me you’re lying”. You feel your eyes grow to the size of the saucers in your hands. 

She shakes her head. “I’m being for real here”. 

You watch as your supervisor comes out to meet Jaemin and they exchange greetings, before she passes him a set of uniform and he heads to the restrooms. “Oh, my gosh”. Your hand comes up to your forehead, and your lips form a thin line as you feel your annoyance levels peak again. “No way I’m sharing shifts with this guy”. 

Lia shrugs. “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think. Hopefully he forgot that it was you who spilled coffee on him last week,” she says while placing a hand on your shoulder, in an effort to appease you.

At that moment, your supervisor comes out of the store room with Jaemin in tow and approaches you and the other baristas. “Everyone, this is our new employee, Na Jaemin,” she says, introducing him to all of you. “Some of you may know him, as he’s a regular at our cafe. He’ll be working the afternoon shift from Monday to Wednesday. I hope all of you look after him well, and show him the ropes”. She then takes her leave as Jaemin comes to join all of you behind the counter. 

“Hello everyone,” Jaemin greets, his pearly whites appearing as he gives all of you a small bow. So cute! You internally squeal as you greet him back. It was the first time you’d seen him properly smile, as every time he ordered coffee from you, his face had this permanently exhausted look on it thanks to what you can only assume to be the university student life. You return his greeting, relaxing as you realise that maybe Lia was right and he’d forgotten about the incident. 

Or…maybe not. 

“Aren’t you the barista who spilled my drink on me last week?” Jaemin questions as he pours milk into a blender, eyes narrowing into slits as he stares at you. “How do you still have a job? You can’t even serve a drink properly”. 

Okay, that does it for you. First day on the job and he’s already being so rude?

“Can you just forget about it? You got the job in the end, didn’t you?” you snap, making your annoyance clear as you somewhat aggressively spray whipped cream onto a customer’s drink. “Also why are you showing disrespect to colleagues on your first day here? How did you even get hired?”

Jaemin shrugs, and you feel a vexation prick at the back of your neck at his nonchalant attitude. “Bold of you to talk about respect, considering you were pretty disrespectful to me last week by spilling my own drink order on me”.

"Shut the fuck up, will you?" you hiss, trying to keep your voice from rising to fever pitch, in order to not attract unpleasant attention to the both of you.

Jaemin opens his mouth to retort, but Lia steps in. “Enough, you two. Let’s just move on from the incident, shall we? I’m sure she didn’t mean to do that”. 

Shooting her a grateful look, you move over to the shelf to grab a tea bag to prepare a customer’s order. “Not quite your ideal type anymore, huh?” Lia whispers from next to you as she washes a mug. 

Cringing, you shake your head furiously. “Appearance wise, still yes. Personality-wise, definitely not”. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Ever since Jaemin joined the team, it was almost like you couldn’t have a peaceful day at work, especially since you and Jaemin always shared the same shifts. Both of you were constantly at each other's throats now, even over small things, and today wasn't any different.

“Y/n! You didn’t heat this up long enough!” Jaemin hollers, gesturing to the chocolate chip cookie on the counter top. 

Rolling your eyes, you turn around to address him. “You didn’t serve it on time and it’s cooled down, you idiot. Also, Seungkwan asked for an extra espresso shot, which you didn’t add in. Who’s the one who can’t do his job properly now, huh? I hope the boss fires you one of these days”.

As a look of hurt flashes across Jaemin’s face for a fleeting moment, you feel a small pang of guilt hit you. Jaemin covers it up by rolling his eyes at you and muttering “piece of shit”, before moving over to add the extra espresso shot as you shove the plate with the cookie on it into the oven again. At that moment, his ringtone sounds out, and he takes his phone out of his apron pocket. Colour drains from his face at the sight of the caller ID, and he hurriedly excuses himself to the storeroom, leaving you to man the counter yourself since both Lia and the other barista weren’t able to make it to work today. “Hi, what can I get for you?” you inquire, plastering a smile on your face and turning to face the customer, who asks for a cappuccino. 

You open up the mini-fridge below the counter, only to find that there’s no more milk left. No big deal, you could always get more from the bigger fridge in the store room. Heading over to the store room, you push the door open and prepare to step inside when Jaemin’s voice stops you in your tracks. “…what? The surgery costs that much? I thought it was cheaper…” 

Peeking through the door slightly, you’re greeted by the sight of Jaemin pacing around the small room and clutching onto a handful of his black hair. From his tone and demeanour, it was evident that he was in a clear state of stress. "Yes, I got the job, but I don't think my earnings from the shifts I'm working currently can cover the costs". Another pause. "It's alright. I'll just ask the supervisor if I can work more shifts. It's more important that grandma gets well. Okay, bye. Send my well-wishes to her". 

Jaemin turns around and you dart back out of the room to avoid being seen, but you still catch a glimpse of the tear drops falling from his eyes, sending a pang to your heart. Sure, you both argued all the time at work, but it didn't mean that you had no empathy for him at all, now that you had an idea of his circumstances — even if it was a vague one. You recall when he lashed out at you for spilling coffee on him just before his interview, and now you're able to better understand his reaction, thanks to the newly learned information about his grandmother’s situation. Yes, his reaction was still rude and unnecessarily harsh, but he was going through a stressful time himself. Guilt floods you suddenly as you think of all the times you'd flung harsh words at him for no reason.

As Jaemin emerges from the store room, you enter and get the milk and start preparing the customer's drink, all while this question replayed in your head: what could you do to help him?

"Y/n!" a clear voice sounds from the cash register, and you recognise it to be your regular customer and best friend from junior college – Chaewon. 

Enthusiastically returning her greeting, you inquire about her order. "Chae! What would you like today?"

Chaewon scans the menu and makes her decision. "I'll get a tall strawberry frappuccino, no whipped, takeaway". 

"No problem!" You answer, and prepare the drink for her as she goes to the side to wait. "One tall strawberry frappuccino for Chaewon!" you announce, and your friend skips up to collect her drink. 

"Thank you! Here's a tip for you – you deserve it," Chaewon adds with a wink as she stuffs a wad of notes into your hand before sauntering away. "See you in class tomorrow!"

"See you Chae!" you call back. You head into the store room, intending to keep the money in your wallet, until the sight of Jaemin's wallet peeking out of his backpack catches your attention. A thought then hits you: why not give the tips I get to Jaemin? He needs it more than I do, anyway. 

Without a second thought, your hands are already pulling the wallet out of his bag and stashing the tip Chaewon gave you into the wallet. Putting the wallet back where it was, you stride out of the room again as if nothing happened. Yeah, I'll keep doing this. Hopefully it helps to ease Jaemin's financial burden, you think to yourself.  

Thankfully, the rest of the day goes by without a hitch. “Y/n! Good job today, just finish the last order and then you can go,” your supervisor comments, giving you a small smile. “Here’s today’s pay. See you tomorrow!” she finishes, passing you an envelope which contained your day’s earnings. 

“Thank you so much ma’am! See you tomorrow!” You reply, calling for the last customer and then heading off to the store room to collect your bag. Peeking inside, you catch Jaemin gawking at his open wallet, prompting you to just stay outside and observe his reaction for a while. "No way. I don't remember receiving any tips. So how did this cash appear?" he asks himself, opening and closing his wallet repeatedly – even slapping himself at one point. "Oh my goodness. Whichever supernatural power provided me with this, thank you," he whispers, putting his cash into his wallet before shutting it again and placing it in his bag. His stressed expression melts away, and is replaced by a smile – one of relief and hope. The sight makes your heart rate increase faster than you'd like to admit, but you ignore it and exit the coffee shop, glad that you were able to do something to brighten up Jaemin's day. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Jaemin had gotten the green light from your supervisor to work extra shifts, so over the next few weeks you both see each other more often as all his shifts coincide with yours. Though both of you are still rather cold towards each other, you argue less with him as you force yourself to hold your tongue whenever you're tempted to spew unkind things at him, knowing that he was going through a rough time. 

And of course, you continue with your plan of secretly giving him all the tips that customers leave you – whether it was sixty cents or fifty bucks. 

Today's just another day at work, and you overhear Jaemin on the phone as you're busy whipping up drinks for customers again. "Oh my gosh, no way". 

Though you know it’s technically wrong, the saying “eavesdroppers never hear any good about themselves” leaves your memory momentarily as you prick up your ears to listen to the conversation, hoping that it was news about his grandmother. As his voice raises in pitch and grows increasingly excited, you feel your heart begin to beat faster as well, like the wings of a bird about to take off. "We only need $50 more and she can get surgery? That's fantastic news!" 

Your heart swelled with joy, so much so that you thought it would burst right there and then in the cafe. Jaemin's grandmother would be saved! Though you didn't know the elderly woman, hearing the news still made you nearly melt in relief. 

"Thank you, see you again!" you flash a bright smile to a customer as you hand them their order. 

"Thank you! Here's a tip for you!" the customer replies and hands you some cash. Accepting it gratefully, you take a peek at it, and your heart leaps even higher than before at the sight. It's a fifty dollar note!

"Just what Jaemin needs!" you whisper to yourself, stashing the note in your pocket and making a mental note to put the money in his wallet when the day was over, since it was a very busy time at the cafe right now. 

As promised, you secretly stash the note in his wallet again after your shift is over. Hopefully, this covers the costs of the surgery, you think to yourself as you pull the wallet out, unclasp it and stuff the money in. 

“Wait, it’s you?” A familiar voice sounds from behind you, making you jump and whip your head around at breakneck speed as his wallet falls out of your grip and onto the floor with a clatter. 

“Jaemin?” you blurt out dumbly, stunned by your colleague’s sudden appearance. 

“Y/n? It’s you who’s been giving me the extra money?” Jaemin responds, seemingly even more astonished by the whole situation than you were. 

It’s at this moment you realise there’s no point hiding it from him any further — he’d already discovered the "culprit" behind the extra money appearing in his wallet. “Yes, it’s me,” you sigh, handing his wallet back to him. “Look, I'm really sorry about this, but I happened to overhear your phone converstion with someone one day, and you were saying something about there not being enough money to send your grandmother for some kind of surgery or something like that. You seemed so sad and I just couldn’t bear to see it because I know it must be so stressful, having a family member who’s severely ill and not having financial means to get them treatment. So I thought I’d just quietly help you by giving you whatever tips customers left for me — I don’t really need the extra money right now. I did all this secretly, because I was worried you’d accuse me of purposefully eavesdropping or pitying you if you knew what I was doing. Also, it’d be awkward if I were to suddenly start intervening in your family matters since we’re both not really on good terms right now,” you explain, attempting to clear the air of confusion by explaining your intentions. 

For a few moments, the only sound in the store room is the drone of whatever machinery is keeping the old fridge running as Jaemin slowly processes what you'd just told him. Finally, he speaks up. "Y/n, you have absolutely no idea how much that means to me. I was so, so worried when I found out the actual cost of the surgery, and that we might not be able to pay for it on time for my grandmother to survive. For so many nights, I couldn't sleep for so long because I was so worried," he explains. "But thanks to your kind donations, we'll be able to pay for it before she gets it today. Words alone can't express my gratitude to you. Really". He looks up and meets your gaze, and his eyes are moist with emotion. 

Your lips curve into a gentle smile. "I'm glad I could help, Jaemin. I hope your grandmother's surgery goes well, and for her to have a speedy and stable recovery," you answer. 

"I'm going to the hospital to visit her now, so I'll convey your well wishes to her. See you tomorrow, y/n". As he leaves the store room, he shows you a genuine smile, the first one he'd shown you ever since you both became coworkers. 

Your heart melts at the sight, like the marshmallows you used to top orders of hot chocolate. "See you tomorrow, Jaemin". You return his smile, and continue to pack your own things as well before you leave the cafe. As much as you don't want to admit, for some reason this much more pleasant interaction has you using every single ounce of your willpower to stop yourself from squealing out in joy.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

"Y/n!" A familiar voice calls out to you as you start up the coffee machine next Monday morning.

"Oh hey, Jaemin!" You reply calmly as said boy comes up to you, looking much more relaxed and confident, compared to the usual worried and downcast expression etched on his face that had been the norm for the past few weeks. 

"Excuse me," he murmurs, reaching out for the coffee machine and dispensing some into the plastic cup in his hand that was half-filled with ice, before calmly sipping on the beverage. "By the way, my grandmother's surgery was a success, and the doctor's prognosis for her looks good," Jaemin reveals, officially putting your worries about his grandmother to rest. 

"Really? That's awesome!" you exclaim, sharing your coworker's joy over the good news. 

Jaemin nods, a radiant smile forming on his face as he continues. "On behalf of the rest of my family, thank you so much. I know this probably isn't much, but please, let me treat you to a meal one day".

Though you initially refute his suggestion and say it's not necessary, arguing that you were simply helping him out in his time of need, you eventually give in to his insistence. "How is she now? Is she recovering from surgery well?" you inquire as you pile marshmallows onto a cup of hot chocolate.

"Yes, when I visited her yesterday, she had regained some of her appetite, and though she still seemed quite tired, she had slightly more energy than before, which are good signs," Jaemin replies, blending a matcha frappuccino. "Actually, do you want to come with me to visit her after work today?" 

"Why not? I don't have anything on today, so I should be able to come," you reply. 

"Alright then!" Jaemin grins, before turning and calling for the customer to pick up their order.

You return your attention to the drink you were making, totally surprised by your exchange with Jaemin earlier — much more pleasant compared to the interactions you’d had prior to this day. Maybe the saying your teachers had drilled into your head since elementary school was true. A small act of kindness could turn a situation around — in this case, it helped Jaemin’s family afford a life-saving surgery for his grandmother, and helped you and Jaemin warm up to each other. 

»»————-　☕️　————-««

Before you both go to visit his grandmother, Jaemin insists on treating you to a sumptuous burger dinner. Which is how you both end up at a restaurant, with the juiciest chicken burger you've ever seen in your life, along with fries that have been fried to crisp golden brown perfection and a cup of iced lemon tea. 

“How’s life been?” Jaemin asks, tucking into his own burger.

“Oh, it’s been quite chill. I just finished my graduating exam not long ago and am waiting for my results to come out, so I don’t really have much to do. That’s why I took on this job — to earn some money and pass my time,” you explain, picking up a few fries and popping them into your mouth, savouring the crunch that followed. “What about you?”

“University’s been kicking my ass,” Jaemin groans. “The professors have gone ham on my class — who gives their students freaking five essays to finish in a week? On top of that, I’ve got frisbee practices after school and also this job. Luckily my grandmother’s condition has stabilised, or else I’d have even more stress to deal with,” he adds. 

“Oh my, that sounds tough. All the best,” you grunt empathetically, knowing exactly how he felt. Though you had never studied in a university, you’d just finished junior college, and had experienced days where the onslaught of homework seemed never ending, leaving you feeling as if you were going to suffocate to death under the workload that only seemed to get heavier and heavier each day. “Oh yeah — speaking of your grandmother, what exactly happened to her? If you’re not comfortable sharing this with me, please don’t feel obligated to do so,” you hurriedly add at the end. You were aware that this was a very sensitive topic, and that Jaemin might wish to keep such matters to himself. 

“About that…” Jaemin’s voice trails off, and he scratches his head as he contemplates whether to tell you or not. “Okay. I’ll tell you, since you’re the one who basically saved her life,” he decides, before beginning his story. “It was cancer. Stomach cancer. She lost her appetite, and often complained of stomach pain. Initially, we thought that it was simply a stomach bug, and we took her to the doctor who just prescribed her some medication. But she didn’t improve — if anything, she got worse. The day she began vomiting blood, we knew that something was terribly wrong. A check up at the hospital revealed that she had stage 3 stomach cancer”. 

“Oh gosh, that’s horrible,” you muse, brows forming a furrow in the center of your forehead. 

“It was. Our whole family was devastated, especially knowing that she wouldn’t have any chance of survival unless she went for surgery. But at that point of time, my dad had just been laid off, meaning that we weren’t able to afford to pay for the operation. Hence we began scrimping and saving, with my dad taking on three jobs in order to try to earn some money. My mother took on two odd jobs, while also having to look after my younger siblings at home. I was really anxious about my grandmother, and I felt terrible seeing how exhausted my parents were. So, I decided to do whatever I can to help, which is why I took on this job, thinking that the salary I’d earn would be sufficient. But the hospital called back to say that the cost of the surgery would actually be more expensive than we initially thought, since my grandmother’s case was extra complicated, and it sent me back into a panic because I knew that even with extra shifts, the money I earned might not even be able to cover the costs. Gosh, I’m so glad it’s over,” Jaemin finishes, breathing out a sigh. The tears that had welled up in his eyes, now pouring out like rain, spoke volumes just how bleak that period had been for Jaemin. 

The sight of him tearing up made your heart ache. “I’m so sorry you guys went through that,” you murmur, reaching over to rub his shoulder to comfort him. “That must have been so tough. Fortunately, you guys were able to afford the procedure in the end. You're so strong".

Jaemin nods. “And it’s all thanks to you”. 

“Now I know why you were so worked up that day,” you add, thinking back to the day when you’d had your first proper interaction with Jaemin.

A quizzical look comes upon Jaemin’s face. “Which day?” 

“The day you came to the cafe for your job interview. I spilled your drink on you, remember?” you remind him, a sheepish smile gracing your features. 

Jaemin's brows furrow as he searches his brain, trying to recall the moment you had mentioned. His eyes widen, and he snaps his fingers as the memory returns to him. "Oh! Right! Oh my, I still feel so bad about it, jeez," he exclaims, his palm meeting his forehead. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that over such a small thing. I think that's why our relationship has been so sour". 

"No, no, it's fine. That was in the past, was it not?" you say, reassuring Jaemin that you don't hold any grudges against him over past events. “I’m sorry too, for saying that I hoped the boss would fire you, when it was a time when you needed this job most”. 

“It’s alright. Honestly, I don’t even have any memory of that incident, anyway,” Jaemin chuckles, popping the last of his fries into his mouth. “You done? Let’s go, then,” he decides as you nod. 

At the hospital, you get to know Jaemin’s grandmother. She took the chance to express her thanks towards you for donating the money that went towards her life-saving surgery. "Jaemin told me all about it," she mentions. "Thank you so much. Make sure to treat her to something nice," she adds, directing her comment towards Jaemin.

"He already has, and besides, there's no need for it," you chuckle. "I’m just happy that I could help". 

Your evening ends with you and Jaemin spending an hour chatting with the affable elderly lady over the happenings in your lives, who was a pleasure to talk to. "Thank you for coming over to visit! I hope to see you again, y/n. You're coming again tomorrow, right?" she confirms with Jaemin.

"Yep, that's right. See you tomorrow, grandma. Have a good rest," he replies, giving his grandmother a hug before leading you out of the ward and shutting the door. 

The walk out of the hospital is silent, but this time it's a comfortable silence and not one that's permeated by a frosty, cold atmosphere. "So…coming tomorrow?" Jaemin asks, breaking the silence.

"I think I can come," you reply. "I should be free. If you and your grandmother are okay with that, of course," you hastily add. 

Jaemin snorts and chortles at your answer. "Of course I'm alright with it! Why would I ask you if I wasn't? And plus my grandmother literally just said she hopes to see you again," he replies. 

"Alright then, I'll come," you confirm, laughs pouring out of your mouth as well. From relentlessly firing abrasive remarks at each other to being able to laugh together, you and Jaemin's relationship sure had come a long way.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

In the days that follow, you find yourself tagging along with Jaemin to visit his grandmother more often whenever you're free after work, and having dinner with him after. Through these interactions, both of you grow closer, and the fluttering in your heart whenever he cracks a joke or pulls a silly antic increases in frequency, which you often try to suppress. As much as you try to deny it, you’ve grown fonder of him as the days go by, as he shows more and more of his true self to you. 

It's also no surprise that now the old lady sees you as her own granddaughter, and often treats you as such. You came to trust her with whatever was on your mind as well, sharing with her deeper things that were on your heart and mind and taking the sensible advice she offered. She would also humour you with many different stories, from both her own and Jaemin's childhood. 

Today, however, was slightly different. You had gone to visit Jaemin's grandmother by yourself, since Jaemin had to attend a project meeting with his group mates after work. So here you were, seated in a chair beside her bed and laughing out loud as she let you in on some of the embarrassing things Jaemin had done in his childhood.

"You know, Jaemin used to be so shy to talk to girls when he was a child. Last time, he'd come and hide behind me whenever girls tried to talk to him. I would have to coax him out just to say hi!" she explains, chortling as she relates the memory to you and your eyes go wide. Jaemin seemed so comfortable around you, you'd never have known that he was so shy as a kid.

"Really?" you ask, letting the surprise sink in.

"Yes, really," his grandmother confirms. "And whenever he liked any girl he never ever made any move to confess. He simply kept his feelings to himself and only ever spoke to me about them". 

"Wow, I didn't know," you laugh.

"Yeah, Jaemin was terribly shy as a child. Come to think of it, you're the only girl he's been this comfortable with," she adds. "I actually think he feels a certain way towards you, but he doesn't want to say anything," she adds.

"How would you know?" You inquire, brows furrowing in surprise. Surely she was wrong?

"He's always bringing you along on his visits, if you're available. And when you're not, it seems to make him feel a bit sad," the old lady begins explaining. "Every visit, he has to mention at least one thing about you – even if it's as small as the smile you gave him when he arrived at work". 

"Oh…I see". You falter in your reply, unsure of how to process what his grandmother had just told you.

"And when I tried asking him about it, he tried so hard to deny his own feelings for you. But I can read my grandson, you know. He likes you more than a friend, but he doesn't want to say anything. He's too shy, and he’s scared that he’ll spoil the friendship between you two," his grandmother adds, before shooting you a question that catches you off guard. "Do you feel the same towards him too?"

"Well I- I…" you stutter even more, unsure of your response. "Okay, maybe I do. At first it was purely due to his looks, because I always saw him order from us during my shifts and found him really handsome. But as I got to know him better, I found things about his personality attractive too. Like how he loves his family so much, he'd willingly sacrifice more of his limited time to work extra shifts to provide the money they need. And how gentle he is towards the people he cares about. There's more, but if I were to list them all I'll be here past visiting hours," you joke, while at the same time voicing your true thoughts and feelings about Jaemin.

His grandmother nods, processing your answer. "I see. From my previous interactions with you, I can tell that you're a sensible, compassionate young lady as well, and I think you'd be a good match for my grandson. Now that you know he feels the same way towards you, will you be bold and take the first step to tell him your feelings?" she asks, looking up at you with hope in her eyes. 

“I…” you trail off, not knowing if you should accede to her request. On one hand, you had come to terms with the fact that you fancied Jaemin more than a friend, and what you felt was probably not just a fleeting crush, and you badly wished to get these feelings off your chest. On the other hand, you were immensely worried about what would happen if you told Jaemin these things. 

That he would see you differently. 

That he’d reject you, and you’d have to deal with the sting that would come after. 

That the friendship between both of you would be affected. 

There was just so much to worry about!

“Y/n, I know what you’re thinking. I know you’re worried about his reaction,” Jaemin’s grandmother drawls understandingly. “But trust me, he’s thinking the exact same things as you, and because of that he’s not willing to make the first move. So, now the ball is in your court. Are you willing to take that risk?” She asks, her gaze on you unmoving. 

“I…I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it,” you answer honestly. 

His grandmother nods, grunting in understanding. “Alright then, if you wish. There’s no pressure on you to do anything, really. The choice is really yours. But believe me — it would make his day”. 

That day, you left the hospital in the biggest dilemma you’ve been in for a long while.

»»————-　☕️　————-««

It doesn’t take too long for you to make up your mind. 

“I’m gonna do it”. You declare, striding out of the store room as you tie up your apron. It’s a monday morning, and you’re back at work again.

“Do what?” Lia asks, a quizzical expression coming over her.

“I’m gonna shoot my shot”. 

At this, Lia lets the plastic cups in her hand clatter to the floor. “You’re what?” 

You move quickly to help her pick up the cups. “I said what I said. I’m shooting my shot today”. 

“Yes, yes, I heard you, but with who?” Lia speaks quickly, looking as if she’s just heard the most ridiculous new in her life. 

“Na Jaemin, duh,” you answer, stacking the plastic cups up where they should be. 

“You’re- no way.” 

“Yes way. I’ve decided I’m gonna take my chances today, and if it doesn’t go as planned- oh well, what’s the worst that could happen? At most, I get rejected and I lose a friend,” you reason, explaining your thought process — though more so to try and calm your nerves than to appease Lia’s curiosity. Truth be told, you were becoming extremely jumpy, and you felt like you were going to begin bouncing off the walls any moment.

“Are you insane? There is no way on earth he’s going to reject you!” Lia exclaims, staring at you incredulously. “If he rejects you, it means the sky’s gonna fall down tomorrow”. 

“How are you so sure?” you question, narrowing your eyes into slits as you stare at her. 

“It’s so obvious, duh. I can practically see hearts in his eyes whenever he looks at you!” she answers as she gives the countertop a quick wipedown with a cloth. “Bet he’s too shy to speak his mind, though”. 

You shrug in response, arranging a few more mugs on the countertop. “I don’t know. But I’ll see how everything goes”.

“It’ll be more than fine. Trust me,” Lia declares. “But anyway, what’s your plan?”

You whisper your plan into her ear, and her brows furrow disapprovingly. “That’s it? That’s so basic, y/n!” she groans. 

“Hey, basic isn’t always bad!” you exclaim, shoving her playfully. “If it works, it works, okay!”

“Whatever”. Lia rolls her eyes jokingly. “But just know I’m rooting for the both of you”. 

Fortunately, Jaemin shows up to work punctually, meaning that your plan can be put into action. 

“Psst, Jaemin,” you whisper, waving your hand in front of his face. “Earth to Jaemin”.

“Sorry, what?” Jaemin responds, snapping out of his momentary trance.

You can’t help but laugh at his stunned response. “Looks like the mid-afternoon coma is hitting us both — I feel it too. So, I was thinking we make each other a coffee of our choice, just to perk ourselves up. What do you say?”

“Why not? I need the caffeine fix real bad right now anyway,” he reasons, standing up from his chair and moving to where the cups and mugs were placed. “Hot, iced, or ice blended?” he asks. 

“Surprise me”. You simply respond, flashing him a grin. “And I’ll surprise you too”. 

With that, you both begin whipping up drinks for each other. 

You decide to make him a venti vanilla sweet cream cold brew, since his usual order is a cold brew, but you also know that he’s been obsessed with iced vanilla lattes recently — so why not combine the best of both worlds? Being aware that he enjoys having a stronger coffee taste in his drinks, you make his drink a little less sweet. 

This is where your plan comes to life. Picking up a marker, you write this on the cup, taking care to write where the vanilla cream is visible:

Be mine?

▢ yes

▢ no

Now, all that’s left to do is to wait for Jaemin to finish with yours, pass him the drink, and then wait for his response. 

It sounds so simple in theory, so why do my hands feel heavy as lead now? You question mentally as Jaemin reappears, looking slightly sheepish. “Y/n? I’m done with yours, are you finished with mine?” he asks softly. 

“Yes, of course! Here you go,” you exclaim, pass him the cup of cold brew and take your drink, trying to hide how your hands are shaking as if a 9.2 magnitude earthquake is taking place on them. 

The sight of your drink sends a new wave of butterflies flying right through you, while at the same time causing a laugh to bubble up in you, which you fight to keep down. 

Jaemin had made you a classic latte, but with a hilarious yet heartwarming twist. He’d clearly given his best shot at latte art, as shown from the words on the drink which have now almost dissolved into illegible, messy foam streaks. Fortunately for you, you’re still able to comprehend it. 

It’s the exact same thing that you wrote on his cup. 

You peek in Jaemin’s direction and catch sight of him gawking at the writing on his cup. “Y/n…” he trails off, his facial expression a clear giveaway of the shock he’s feeling. “I can’t believe we were thinking the exact same thing!” he exclaims, before bursting into guffaws. 

“I can’t believe it either,” you respond, now laughing your head off along with him. “Gosh, and to think I was so afraid to do this!”

“So was I!” Jaemin chuckles, sipping on the drink. “If only I knew you had almost the exact same plans as I had”.

“Well…I guess our answers to each other are obvious then,” you giggle. By now, you’re smiling so widely, the corners of your mouth could reach your ears, and you feel as if your whole chest is going to explode with how fast and hard your heart is pounding. 

“Well then, cheers to our newfound love for each other,” Jaemin declares, raising his cup and pulling you in for a side hug, all while gazing at you lovingly. 

“Cheers,” you respond, bringing your cup to his as you lean closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you soak up the warmth of his embrace. 

player | jung sungchan [M]

SYNOPSIS: You considered yourself an average, but you are nowhere near that. And surprisingly, after liking the handsome soccer player, Jung Sungchan secretly, he never looks at your way. Will you succeed to get his attention?

words: 4.8k (omfg, i never thought i could write this much for sungchan lmao)

pairing: soccerplayer!jung sungchan x fem!reader

content: university setting! heartrob sungchan, smart and talented Y/N, slight angst if you flinch, smut, contains profanities, junior year with dreamies and sungchan, 127 hyungs are seniors, stray kids members cameo, established relationship at the end, locker room make out, public sex

author's note: the title "player" isn't really that connected to sungchan's attitude or whatever. and i don't have any idea what to call this so he's literally a soccer player kdfjsjfdfjadfh. i like sungchan so much that i wrote till 4k. any kinds of feedback is appreciated!

"Y/N! Have you received the email that i sent?" Haechan rushes to you, hair a bit messy and his crumpled sports uniform.

You nod and continue to take some notes as you scan your iPad for more information to take in. "Come on, Y/N. Loosen up! Watch us play." He whines and sloppily sits down beside you.

Glancing at him, you cant help but laugh of the state he's in. "Donghyuck, for christ sake. I can't watch you play so awfully. The secondhand embarrassment as your friend is enough."

Haechan makes a face as he stands up again, "Jung Sungchan. I heard he's gonna teach us basic soccer. Damn, he'd pass as a coach, i guess?" Now completely ignoring your notes as you look at him properly, curiousity evident in your eyes. "Really? When does it start?"

Haechan's brows furrowed and tilted his head, "You know what, i've had enough of this little crush of yours. You've been obvious for two fucking years, why don't you send him a letter or something?"

"Haech, i've been obvious to you and to our friends about him but not to anyone." You said as your bright face drops as well as your tone.

"Oh god, stress-bada. Whatever, do what you want. I'll go back to class." He walks his way out and you have no choice but to focus on the documents that you were reading.

You're really grateful that you and Sungchan weren't blockmates or else you can't think of anything but him.

This little affection for him started since you were freshmen, you exactly remembered how you felt like the first time you interacted.

"Kick it!" A voice from the soccer field that's loud enough to make everyone pay attention. It was your second week of college, and you couldn't fathom the joy you felt when you entered the university. With new people and new goals to achieve.

You sat down at one of the benches under the tree, seeing the view of soccer players who are trying out to get in the team.

Before you knew it, you felt a slight of pain, the soccer ball hitting the side of your head.

"Ah!" You winced as the ball hit you, Haechan letting out a loud, "Oh my god." The laugh he supressed comes out from his mouth.

You opened your eyes and rubbed the part that was hit as you see someone approaching you, getting the ball with his hands. "You okay?" He asks you with his low voice making you look up and stare at him, unable to speak.

"The other student strongly kicked the ball, sorry for that."  He apologizes as he walks back to the field. And you, still unable to talk because of how beautiful the man is.

That's when you started to know him by his name. You start to pass by his room just to get a glimpse of him, and those two years of stealing glances, he never looked back.

When it was sports day, or be it foundation day, you always rooted for him. But he...never saw you. That you didn't exist in his, and you accepted that. Admiring him from afar is enough.

"Hello? Earth to Y/N?" You snap back to reality when Chenle waved his hand harshly in front of you.

"Yeah?" You replied as you stretched your arms, looking around in the room only to realize your block mates are changing into their uniforms.

"Won't you wear your sports uni?" He queries as he states the obvious. You stood up getting your bag and proceeds to change into your uniform.

The university sports wear knew exactly what they were doing. A black shirt with the university logo and a cycling shorts which definitely look good on you.

As you walked out of the girls changing room, you immediately heard whistles from your friends who are waiting for you.

"Looking good, Y/N." Jeno says as he places an arm around your shoulder, "Shut up, Jeno. What do you want?" He didn't answer but he clinged onto you instead, with Donghyuck complaining how tired he is.

With Jeno's arms around you and your friends walking to the hall, you didn't realize that your blockmates were already ligned up inside the gym and Jung Sungchan was saying something to them.

You quickly positioned yourself on the last row, thinking that you can go unnoticed since you never really mattered anyway.

But so much for a smart brain and pretty face, you can't go unnoticed.

Sungchan harshly walks infront of everyone, his shoes making a sound as he scanned the boys first.

"From now on, i'll be teaching basic soccer. I hope you'll pay attention even if we're in the same year. Coach will be expecting for your excellent knowledge after our meets."

You used to think that people can't be that tall but he proved it wrong. You unconciously fixed your top when you saw a pair of cleats on the gym floor.

"Can i get a name?" You couldn't believe it that he was infront of you, asking your name. You looked up to see him towering over you, completely unfazed while you're getting dizzy over how good he smells.

It took Winter to poke you for you to answer your name. While you were blinking a couple of times, Sungchan nodded. "I don't want you to take your time strolling the halls. I want everyone on time, we'll be on the field next class." He said as he walks to the front.

"Is he kidding? I can't believe he doesn't know you!" Jisung chimes in as he sat down on your table with his tray.

"Right? Unbelievable, that just means he doesn't really notice your crush for him at all." Chenle comments after he sips his afternoon coffee.

"Whatever, i was just starstruck to finally be able to have a conversation with him again."

"Y/N, you can't call that conversation. You just said your name to him." Says Jeno.

"It's time for you to meet someone. Go on dates, nerd." Renjun who was apparently behind you, with a stack of books in his hands.

"I could say the same for you. You seem very busy." You said as you scanned Jun with his form, he looks exhausted.

The cafe near the university had no effort in keeping you on time in running classes. It was always a place where you guys hang out, despite of being the only girl in the group.

"Where's Jaem by the way?" Jeno asks after chewing a big bite of sandwich.

"That's suspicious. You are always together." Donghyuck squints his eyes to Jeno Lee only to have a shrug answer in the end.

"What's that, Y/N?" Jisung queries as he points at the folded shirt on your lap. Oh shit. You forgot to give it to Chan.

"Fucking shit. I gotta go!" You grabbed your things including the shirt and ran towards the university's entrance, going to the locker room of the athletes.

"Chan! Shit! Sorry, Oh my God." You shout in front of the room but no one answers. Checking the time, it's 2:20. There's no one inside, right? So i can just leave it in his locker. Right.

You twisted the knob, peeking inside. You saw nothing and that's where you fucked up.

You entered the room, looking for Bang Chan's name in the locker when the door on the side opened revealing Sungchan topless with only a towel on his waist.

You raked your eyes over his form, the water droplets from his hair to his chest, his abs that's perfectly sculpted and his lower...

Looking away after checking him out obviously was the worst thing you've ever done in your whole life. But you don't regret it.

"What are you doing here?" His voice resonates in the room.

You let out an exhale, trying to form some words as he takes a step towards you.

"I--- just wanted to give this to Chan. It's his." You raised the shirt, slightly waving it.

Sungchan stepped closer until he was just inches far from you and you had no choice but to lean on the locker. "Your boyfriend?" Your eyes widened on the sudden question. "N-no! Definitely not. We're just friends."

You looked up at him and a smirk is plastered on his face, he leans in closer to your face until you can smell his minty breath.

"You know how dangerous this room is?" Every time he says a word, you can feel his hot breath on the side of your lips.

Biting your lower lip, you meet his gaze. "I was just really---"

Sungchan cursed under his breath and before you can continue what you were saying, his lips captured yours.

You kept your eyes open, not processing what he's doing. He snaked his hand on your back, the other resting on your cheek to kiss you properly.

Closing your eyes, you wrapped your arms on his neck, responding to his kisses. He bit your lower lip and slides his hot tongue inside your mouth.

"Fuck." Sungchan says in between your kisses, he bites and sucks your tongue until you were whimpering below him.

He cuts the kiss, both of you panting heavily. He steps backward, giving you some space. A glance was all it took for you to ask what just happened but the door slammed open, revealing Chan who doesnt know anything.

"Hey, Y/N! Thought you were never gonna give that back." Chan lays his eyes on Sungchan who was now opening his locker like nothing happened.

You fixed yourself, facing Chan. "Yeah, sorry for being late. I waited for you, i didn't know someone was in here but it's okay. Not that long. I gotta go!" You gave Chan his shirt and sprinted out from the room.

Walking back to your building, you touched your lips as you sigh. What now?

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You couldn't stop thinking about the kiss. You cant even write a thing on your paper.

"What's wrong with you?" Mark asks as he looks at your papers scattered on the living room.

"Nothing."

"What do you mean nothing? Bitch, you haven't written a thing and look at these papers." You look up and threw Mark daggers with your eyes.

"Shut the fuck up, Mark. Where were you, by the way?" You placed your hand on the table as you closed your eyes hoping to find peace.

"Oh, i was taking the classes i missed last term. You know, kinda late." So much for having a cousin and roomate at the same time.

"I actually saw you running at the athletes building this afternoon. Who were you after?"

You opened your eyes and your body froze. The defeaning silence was enough for Mark to burst in laughter. "Shit, something happened huh? Well, glad there's some action in your life. I heard Hyunjin talking about you last time, he's in soccer too, right? What a gorgeous man." He walks over to the kitchen.

Am i doomed? Did he badmouth me for the kiss? Did he tell his whole team? Shit.

You weren't supposed to go. But you never missed any class and that's...horrible. You strut your way to the field now with your friends usually following you.

Everyone of you lined up, waiting for your "coach" to show up.

"Alright, is everyone here? We'll be practicing the defense and the attack." There are noises from afar, you all look back only to see the rest of the players walking to the soccer field.

You were surprised to see Mark Lee with the bunch, he found you on the line and you mouth "what the fuck" but he just rolled his eyes.

Some of my team mates will be the defense, and everyone of you can try the attack. In simpler words, you will all be kicking the ball."

"Well, shit." Haechan says loudly and shamelessly that made everyone laugh.

"Ladies first." Jaemin says, not noticing he was also there lining up with the boys.

There was a protest but the majority of the girls agreed so you walk forward one by one to kick the ball. The players switching to be the defense.

You see Felix going to the middle ready to defend as your blockmates kick the ball. There was one girl who got points for the first 10 of them.

They switched to another player, this time it's Hwang Hyunjin on the defense.

You are fourth to the last of the girls to kick the ball. And when it was your turn, you felt concious like all of your confidence was gone with all the eyes on you.

"I know she's good at kicking balls." Chenle says earning a slap in the arm by Jisung. "Don't put it like that! Well, she is really a hard hitter, by the way."

You focus your eyes on Hyunjin in the middle, the ball in front of your feet. You never really looked at him that much but he looks amazing with blonde hair. God.

He spreaded his legs and his arms, like a bull ready to run to his prey, but this time, he defends it.

You step back a bit, readying your right foot to kick on the side where there is space where he can't reach but that's fucking impossible since he has long arms and legs.

You kicked the ball on the side, and it...went in. Cheers erupts due to your friends.

You see Hyunjin smirk, he let you...win. You were sure that he can reach that but he didn't. It wasn't obvious enough for everyone because he dramatically missed it.

You look at him, earning a wink as he positions again getting ready for the next attacker.

You supressed a smile as you walk back to the position where other students has kicked the ball. You traveled your eyes to the field only to meet a pair of piercing eyes, Jung Sungchan's eyes.

You never backed down on your staring, you gained confidence on how he was unable to restrain himself from kissing you. You're implying what-is-wrong-with-you-look.

He was the first one to break the eye contact to signal that it was the boys turn.

"Hey, i heard Giselle's dating Sungchan." You raised your brow to the information you heard behind you.

"Really? I thought they were just close friends. They are in the same block and Giselle's smart and pretty too. They'll look good if that's true!" Another girl says.

Well, shit. Why did he kissed me then?

You feel your stomach churn, feeling uneasy. You look at the boys who are doing the activity as you sat down on the grassy field, observing them as Winter sits beside you.

"Hey," She says as she looks at you while you responded with a nod. "You okay?" You nodded yet again, "Sorry, Wint. Not in the mood to make a conversation." You glanced at her and let out a small smile.

"Tired already?" Hyunjin walks towards you, holding a bottle of cold water. He offers it to you as you keep your eyes on him. You received the bottle without a doubt, letting out a small "thanks" while he walks back to his team.

"This man's getting brave!" Bang Chan's voice can be heard when Hyunjin returned to their bunch. You just shook your head.

It's been two weeks. Two weeks of fucking avoiding him. You wanted an explanation, sure. But is it even important when in those two weeks you keep on seeing Giselle and Sungchan even in your favorite spot in a coffee shop, studying or whatever the fuck they were doing.

In your sports class, you did your best to participate but you wouldnt go near him or even try to interact. You understood why he kissed you. He knows you're attracted to him. So he took advantage because you would never say no.

"Y/N?" Renjun shouts your name inside your apartment with Mark only to find you slouching on the couch.

"What the hell, why are you looking like a piece of shit?" He says directly, pertaining to your messy hair, the dark bags under your eyes and your loose clothes.

"There's party at 127's building, across from here. You did not forget that, didn't you?"

You raised your head up, feeling listless because of all the reading that you did. "You did, you forgot about it. God, do you even sleep?"

"I'll come with you. I will go get changed." You stood up, feeling dizzy while you walk to your room.

You supposed your decision was right, you are now inside the party of your seniors building with booming sounds, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes and the flickering lights.

You wore a bralette and a pair of high-waisted red skirt just above your knee. You felt excited as you see your friends walking towards you.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jaemin asks, placing his palm on your forehead to check your temperature.

You let out a laugh, "Come on, Jaem. I'm fine. You all go have fun, i'll be right after you." Jaem looks at you with concern as he follows Jisung and the rest of your friends to the crowd.

You went to the kitchen that ended up being a place when intimate people do things away from the crowd. You had your way in, filling your cup with water as you hear someone shout, "Alright, people! Doyoung said he'll haunt you if he sees anything on their kitchen, out!" Sungchan says as he walks towards you and you were ready to walk out of it but he held your wrist.

"Except you, we need to talk."

"Talk about what?" You look at his hand holding your wrist, he gently pulls his hand out.

"Sorry, i just really wanted to talk to you about what happened in the room." He said, leaning on the kitchen counter.

"I understand. It was impulsive, no big deal." You said as you looked at him, you saw a hint of shock painted his face.

"No big deal?" Sungchan repeats your word. You nodded and shrugged, "We're both adults, aren't we?"

He scoffs, "It was a ruse, i guess? Your friend Haechan said you like me. I overheard it, and i was a jerk for kissing you like that knowing your feelings. It was a big deal after hearing the girl i liked, is attracted to me. But i guess i was wrong, it meant nothing. So i'm sorry for trying." He lifted his face, showing a smile without any other emotion. "I sincerely apologize, excuse me."

You were too stunned to even speak as he makes his way out of the kitchen. It was a big deal after hearing the girl i liked, is attracted to me.

Holy shit. Doesn't he have a girlfriend already?

You stood there, frozen. You don't know how many minutes you wasted just to space out.

"Hey!" You darted your eyes to Giselle who just opened the large refrigerator to get a bottle of milk...

"Are you enjoying the party? God, it's noisy back there!" She looks at you, "You're really pretty by the way, no wonder my best friend likes you!" She says unconciously as she walks back to her company who was waiting for her.

Well, shit.

The party ended without you seeing Sungchan again. You were disappointed with yourself, he wanted to talk to you and express his feelings but you crossed him out.

After the day of the party, everyone seems to be so weak. Hangover caving in, but for you, you didn't even drink but you still feel drunk on the words that Sungchan said.

You anticipated for your sports class just to see him and of course, talk to him about it.

You hurriedly got changed and follow your blockmates to the field only to see him playing the other players as he kicks the ball hard, hitting the net.

"Find a pair. Play with the ball and practice kicking it and vice versa with a partner." Sungchan states, an uninteresting look on his face as he walks over to sit on the bench.

You and Chenle decided to be partners, kicking the ball with your feet without vigor. "Oh my God, Y/N!" Chenle shouts as he harshly kicks the ball that lands on your knee, "Hey! What?" He just laughs in responds and you repeated the same action after the bell rings.

You see Sungchan heading over to the Athletes building, following him as you look around. He glances at you, stopping infront of the locker room. "What now, Y/N?"

You didn't say anything, he just sighed and opened the door for him to enter.

You exhaled exaggerately, i can do this.

You opened the door, seeing him sitting down on the plastic stool in front of his locker replacing his sports shoes with a different one.

"I thought Giselle was your girlfriend that's why i avoided you," He stopped tying his shoe laces, his head still lowered down so you continued to speak. "I like you, i still do. It's unbelievably crazy why you liked me back!" You said as you take a step forward but just enough to have the distance that you want.

He quickly finished his laces and he raised his head, looking at you intently. "Come here," He pats his thigh signaling you to sit on it.

You reclutantly stepped forward and placed your hand on his shoulder and slowly sit down on his thigh sideways. "Good girl." He whispers and holds your hand, "Do you know i liked you ever since i saw you on that field smiling and laughing gracefully with your friend?"

He lets his nose touch on your cheek, "You don't know how hard it was for me to see you surrounded by such guys that was completely better than me. You are unreachable." He placed a soft kiss on your cheek. "That's why i took the chance to kiss you right then and there."

"Would you let me kiss you again?" Sungchan asks as you face him properly letting out a small, "Yes."

He smiles as he crouches to catch your lips, his kiss was slow and sensual. Lips so soft and plump that you could kiss him forever.

It was not like that for long, his kisses turned wild. He confidently bit your lip as he slides his tongue on your mouth, dominating you.

You moan in response as his hand caresses your thighs. He pulls away from the kiss making you groan, "Sungchan, please." You cling onto his neck, your legs are now wrapped on his waist, completely straddling him.

"You are so naughty." He comments as he looks at you. "Give me more." You said as you felt his poking erection at your cycling shorts.

"Damn it," He whispers as he places his hand on your ass, pushing you on the crotch of his jersey shorts. "Feel that? If you want more then i'll give you what you want."

You're delirious. You nodded and grinded on his clothed erection to find friction.

"Fuck." He runs his hand on the side of your waist, holding the hem of your shirt to take it off for you and throwing it on the side. He unhooked your bra, marveling at the sight of your perked nipples.

He lowered his head to lick and suck on your nipples alternately, his tongue circling the bud while he plays with the other with his thumb. "Oh, God. Sungchan, fuck me." You let out a loud moan, "Shhh, baby. Someone might hear you."

He stood up while carrying you, he was heading for the door. "What are you----" He pins you on the wall beside the door, his other hand reaches for the lock. "For safety." He puts your legs down, you took the cue to take off your shorts to be left with your panties.

He kneels down, lifting your other leg to see the wet patch of your panties. You leaned on the wall, closing your eyes as you felt Sungchan setting the fabric aside using his fingers. You looked down to see his face nearing on your cunt, his fingers doing slow strokes on your clit.

He placed your leg on his shoulder, your glistening cunt only for him to see. "So wet for me." He holds your legs as he licks a stripe of your pussy.

"Ah!" You covered your mouth with your palm and the other grabbing his hair, shutting your eyes as Sungchan started lapping on your cunt. His tongue penetrating your entrance. He eats like a mad man.

The supressed sexual desire and the image of Jung Sungchan eating you out madly made you reach your high as your legs shake and pupils dilate.

"Shit." Sungchan's curse vibrates on your clit as he grips your legs and lets your rub your pussy on his tongue. As he stood up wiping his lips using his forearms, he quickly wrapped his arms on your waist. He chuckles at your state.

"I'm not done with you yet," He lowers his jersey shorts as well as his boxers, his cock springing free, leaking with precum. You gasped at the sight as you look up at him.

"It's okay, baby. It'll feel good. Or do you need some prepping?" He says as he lifts your legs again for you to wrap it around his waist.

"No, i can take it." You responded weakly, your hide your face on his neck.

"Such a good girl for me." He makes you raise your chin, "I want to see you."

You leaned on the wall, arms wrapped around his neck as you felt him aligning the tip of his cock on your entrance. He pushes an inch of him that made your face contort with pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"You're fucking gorgeous." He grunts as you tried to push more of him, "Take it easy, baby."

You shook your head, craving for more of him. His patience were growing thin as you keep squirming before him.

He harshly slams his cock fully inside of you, "Sungchan!" You screamed at how he stretched your out, your walls clenching on him already.

"Shit, feels so good. Stop clenching on me or i'll fucking wreck you." He whispers on you making you feel a tight knot in your stomach.

He bottoms out only to thrust back in harshly, you were sliding higher on the wall as he fucks the shit out of you. His cock hit wonders of your pussy, the way he holds your waist as he fucks you standing up.

"C-can't! I'm coming!" You felt your orgasm caving in as Sungchan speeds up with his thrusts, the skin slapping sound resonates in the room.

Your mouth hangs open as he detached your from the wall, holding your back as he thrusts into you while standing up, your breasts bouncing at his harsh thrusts.

"Yes, just like that. Ah!" You moaned as your legs shake again and you felt Sungchan's cock twitch inside you, shooting his milk on your walls.

Your legs were weak and cannot able to wrap on his waist but he quickly supported you as you let him carry you, "Hey," He says after a long seconds of silence, "I'm on pills." You said and he chuckles at your remarks as he detaches himself from you.

He puts you down letting you sit on the stool as he fixes his jersey shorts. "I can't believe you fucked me with your shirt on."

He bursts in laughter, "Sorry, baby." He opens his locker and gets his sweatpants and some wipes to clean you up. He wiped your inner thighs as you watch him reach for your shirt and bra, the cycling shorts going inside his locker.

"Hey!" He helped you put on your clothes, "You think you can walk?" He asks genuinely.

"I can, i just need a minute." He kneels infront of you, his hand reaches for yours to play with your fingers.

"This means we're dating, right?" He asks, earning a smile and a nod from you.

"Oh, and don't worry. The other athletes have classes at this hour. No one comes in here in the morning."

"That's why you confidently fucked me in here." You snicker as his ears got all red. "Don't you have class after sports?"

"I have. I gotta catch up. Thanks for this." You point at his sweatpants as you both headed to the door. He unlocks it and you both got out, "I'll fetch you after class. Wait for me." He says as you smiled brightly, you tiptoed and kissed his cheek.

"Bye!" You walk to the direction back into your building but you were shocked to see Haechan on the hallway seeing the whole scene.

"Oh my fucking God!" He shrieks as he runs to your building as you followed him.

Jung Sungchan only chuckled at how you chased over your friend. There's definitely a lot of explaining to do.

player | jung sungchan by idyllicallycharming.

hi hun, if you dont mind can you make a fic of jaemin being all crazy for y/n but it starts off with them just sexting n dry humping till he goes all crazy for her. btw! i loved the affair series would love to see dream ver. :)

CRAZY IN LOVE

Synopsis: It was stupid really, you were bored and treated the app as a joke. You just never would have thought the man you began sexting would be your best friends boyfriend and at that an obsession beginning to develop.

Warning: Smut / Fluffish? / Angst . Swear word usage, Serious!Jaemin x Shy!Reader. Toxic relationship, pick me best friend, cheating,TW! mention of suicide, conflicted feelings. Reader is a bit of a push over + character development. Takes place in college. Blue: Jaemin, Pink:Reader

A/N: Hi love! Hope you enjoy and thank u sm! I haven’t considered making one for dream but maybe after I’m done I may think about it!

Pairing: Jaemin x fem reader

You felt like a shit person. You hate fake people, players even and yet here you are doing the very thing you despise. Being bored isn’t a good enough justification for it, your interest was peaked the second you scrolled by the app in the App Store. A cold rainy day that left you alone, cold and in the dark of your dorm. Roommate was out doing god knows what, your best friend could never really be cooped up for long. The cold rain drops fell on your window that laid beside your bed. Tiktok wasn’t interesting, no movies on any movie platform seemed to catch your focus. Wednesday playing in the background for the sake of keeping the room completely dark and silent.

‘HEARTSTRING, the best most popular app for young adults ready for a relationship!’

What harm could it be if you tried out the app right? It’s not like anything bad could really come out of it.

“And so I was like, Beverly you have to stop shitting around and like fucking cut the chord. He’s not interested in you anymore. I mean yeah have we been having a bit of flirty banter here and there, sure but-“

The chitter chatter of his girlfriend talking his ear off began to muffle as Jaemin focuses his attention on his cell phone. He wasn’t exactly in the best mood, it’s fucking cold outside. His thick jacket he brought with now currently wrapped around his girlfriend because of the refusal she had to bring her own. Currently sitting inside a vegan restaurant and a $50 dish that isn’t all that appetizing and fulfilling. With an hour worth of talking of all the boring shit his girlfriend has to ramble about, he feels it’s the least bit understandable he’s decided to do something he wants to do. Be on his phone.

His social battery only down by its last percentage, a small frown on his face as he scrolls through his feed. Boring and bland, only a small story of Jeno’s in which him and the boys were currently playing the newest game. Months and months of hyping it up, waiting for its release and Jaemin is wasting his time on his 30th date. By now, his bank account is about ready to burst. A cry for help he swears he hears each time he picks up his wallet. Stopping midway scroll when an ad appears, ‘HEARTSTRING!’

Taking a quick glance up at his girlfriend and sees she’s still rambling on about girl drama as she continues to take pictures of her salad and posting them online. To say his relationship with Nayoung was perfect would be the furthest from the truth. If anything, he still doesn’t quite understand how he managed to get in the relationship in the first place. What was suppose to be a quick fling, resulted in Nayoung telling the entire school they were together. Her parents were quick in wanting to get to meet him, a very serious talk from her father had chills running up his arms. “Don’t you even dare hurt my little girl. You don’t know what I’m capable of son.” He’s tried to think of ways to get out of that situation but it’s only gotten worse when Nayoung got in touch with his parents. The thrill look on their faces when they were told their oldest son was finally in a committed relationship. Jaemin felt that maybe he would always be stuck.

And if that was the case, he might as well still have fun if he can’t walk away from her.

Setting up your account came to be really easy. You plan to delete the app by the end of the night, you’re not looking for something seriously and so far the app itself doesn’t look that serious either. It seemed everything was anonymous for the most part. With only using real descriptions and names, not personal pictures are to be added and instead icons. An app for anonymous chatting. For a while it seemed it was a scam, nothing good was happening other than the constant liking of each profile that propped up for you. You weren’t looking for anything specific, you just wanted to have a conversation and just as you were about to log out and delete it. A notification popped up.

na.jaemin0813 is typing…

Hey

Hello…

Did you get the app out of boredom as well?

It’s like we’re one mind

Guess we were meant to be ;)

Haha cheeky

You know it babe

So tell me, what’s your favorite conspiracy theory you can discuss for hours

Ooh getting serious are we?

Chatting with Jaemin didn’t seem so bad. In fact, you’ve come to enjoy your conversation with him, you didn’t expect it to go on longer than anticipated.

“Y/n im home!” You hear your best friend say as she closes the door behind her. Turning off your phone before you can receive the next message Jaemin was about to send you, a figure appears by your door way. “I’m fucking exhausted.” She huffs as she drops the many bags of clothes. A pout on her face as she slumps her shoulders. “Can you make me food, i am in a serious need of a bath.” “I still have some of my left over chicken Alfredo in the fridge-“ “You know I don’t eat left overs.” She makes a disgusted look, “Please! I’ll owe you.” She smiles before wandering off to her room. “You already owe me.” You mumble before getting out of bed and into the kitchen. The running water is heard a few minutes later with the sound of music playing soon afterwards. As you let the water boil for the pasta, you get back on your phone.

Where have you gone darling?

Already missing me ?

Given you’re someone who isn’t all that dry, who wouldn’t be?

So am I safe to assume you haven’t had great chats recently?

You’re the only one who hasn’t made the entire conversation about themselves and the many inconveniences in their lives

Ugh, those people are the worst.

The loud obnoxious singing of your best friend is what interrupted your conversation with him. Focusing back on her dinner as she spent the next hour an a half in the bath.

A sigh escapes Jaemin as he waits for the three dots to appear before exiting out of the app and moving on. The loud yelling of the guys are heard as he enters his dormitory. Busying themselves on whatever video game they’ve bought lately, “On your right!” Haechan exasperates. Taking the seat next to him, Jaemin had kicked off his shoes and rested them on top of the coffee table. “Oh you’re back!” He hears Jisung’s voice as soon as he entered the small living room. “Were you in my room?“. Shrugging his shoulders, he lifts up the cup of ramen in his hand. “You stash them in your room, finally found them.” “Yeah it’s exactly why I stashed them.” He shakes his head, hearing a notification from his phone he lifts it up only to frown when he sees it was Nayoung.

“I’m guessing the date didn’t go well?” Jisung asks. “She’s so high maintenance.” He sighs before closing his eyes and rubs his temple. “Why don’t you break up with her?” Haechan asks him, half of his attention on the flat screen tv. “Because if I break up with her, her father will break my face I thought I told you already?” “Oh right- move you fuck!” Getting off the couch, Jaemin walks over to the kitchen table and takes a seat keeping the maknae company.

Lets go out tomorrow!

Shutting his phone off, Jaemin doesn’t bother responding back. Mentally and socially drained to respond. “I’ll be in my room.” He murmurs not bothering to get a response back. The door to his room gets closed behind him, falling on his bed as he feels himself about to drowse off until he hears another notification go off.

So do you study?

Third year in college :)

Really? Where?

Seoul National University.

No way really? I go there too!

We should get together sometime.

Already desperate to get to know me?

Yeah well, I’d like to be able to see the face I’m talking to instead of a screen.

Mm I don’t know…

Oh come on, are you gonna make me work for it?

Yep

Meanie :(

As the days went by the two of you have constantly texted the other. To the point people began to notice, “why are you always on your phone?” You best friend half heartedly asked one day, on her own as she busies scrolling through her feed. Eyes rolling when she sees one of her ‘friends’ post a picture. “Told her she looked ugly in that photo, can’t believe she still posted it. Eh, A+ for confidence i guess.”

Peeking over her screen she frowns when she notices you didn’t even bother answering her question. Instead, a smile on your face as you continue to text Jaemin. It’s been an entire week since you downloaded the app, an entire week since you began texting Jaemin and a week since you’ve been this lonely looking person. It made Nayoung wonder, you were never this preoccupied with your phone. If anything you never used it mainly because you didn’t have much going other than movies and tiktok. But this, no this can’t be a romcom or TikTok’s doing. “Oh my god!”

Jumping back startled, you look at her shocked face. “You’re seeing someone!” Scoffing, you shake your head and set your phone down. “Am not.” “So why did you set your phone facing down. Mphm?” “I always do that.” Stopping momentarily, Nayoung can’t tell if you were telling the truth. Unlike you, she isn’t that observant, she can’t even remember your birthday and only hopes she hasn’t missed it yet. “Don’t change the subject! Now tell me, who is it.” “No one-“ Poking you with her chopsticks, she leans closer. “Now, now it’s been AGES since your last relationship and we both know how that ended. Just want to see how this one’s like” A small pang was felt in your heart, you didn’t like to remember it. Your last boyfriend only used you to get closer to Nayoung. It hurt to know he didn’t even like you not once throughout your relationship. Broken up with him and getting the reassurance from your best friend is what got you through it.

“He’s not like that-“ “Aha! So you are seeing someone!” Sighing, you smile shyly at her. “Not really seeing if I have never met him. We only started texting each other. It’s only been a week.” You say with a small smile. A ding is heard and you were quick to check, a small chuckle escapes you and you’re entire focus was now back on your phone. You miss the small scowl your best friend has on her face. She wondered who this boy was, how is it that you didn’t tell her when all of this was happening? A bitterness began to bubble inside of her but she keeps it on the low and instead grabs the dishes and puts them in the sink.

“I’m going out, me and Jaemin got a date.” She says loud enough for you to hear her. “K have fun.” You say lowly, eyes still on your screen. Giving you one last glance, she makes her way out.

“Jaemin, are you even paying attention to me?” She huffs annoyedly at her boyfriend. “Of course I am.” He quickly typed out his last text before looking up at her. Rolling her eyes, she huffs and crosses her arms. “Is this how you’re gonna be when you visit my parents?” “Visit?” “Of course, mom has been wanting you to come visit and so I promised her the next time I fly out I’d take you with me! My friend will be coming too of course, poor thing can’t see her parents. It’s this whole drama thing she’s got going on.” She shrugs. Great another weekend ruined.

“Alright see you then.” A grin forms on her face, leaning in for a kiss before she was long gone to do shopping with her friends. Rolling his eyes, Jaemin sits back on his bed and unlocks his phone. His finger hovered over the contact. He wondered what you were up to, he was bored and a little moody that you haven’t texted him yet. Scrolling through your last few messages that he’s noticed have gotten more flirtier over the course of time.

Whatcha doin?

Why, you miss me? :(

Don’t be a brat.

You love it

And you love teasing me smh

Still mad…?

You sent a pic of your boobs while I was in the middle of class

I had blue balls for the rest of the hour

So you don’t want more?

I want you.

Aw what a cutie

I’m not cute I’m hot

Would you like to see?

Photo Sent

The text messages progressively got more flirty, from pictures of abs and cleavages. You made sure your face was no where in view of the camera. You don’t know where this confidence came from. You never sent such pictures before, and yet never would you have thought to begin sexting a stranger you met online.

Fuck y/n, I need to see you.

I’m sure your hand can keep you company

Fucking meanie

;)

“Y/n! I need help packing I just bought new clothes and I need your help making an outfit out of them!” You hear Nayoung enthusiastically shout as she enters the dorm. Slamming the door behind you, opening the camera app you take one last pictures of your chest down, wearing a black corset with a push-up bra you notice Jaemin swoons over. Sending it before shutting your phone off.

A huff is heard as you watch Nayoung drop down all her bags filled with clothes. “Okay tomorrow morning we should be heading down to my fathers cabin alright?” Nodding, she leads you to her room. Two large suitcases are taken out of her closet as she begins taking down all her clothes from the hangers. Looking at herself through the body mirror as she makes distasteful noises each time she comes across an article of clothing she no longer likes.

Do you like torturing me?

Are you fisting yourself rn?

Kinda have no other choice…

Good, go faster for me will ya?

It’ll send you another picture of me. Maybe something more revealing…

“Y/n? You listening?” “Yeah!” Looking from her bed, a large pile of clothes as she poses in the mirror. She peeked through her mirror to see how engrossed you were with your phone. A small frown as she still doesn’t know much about this guy you’ve met. “Beige or cream?” Showing you a scarf she plans to wear, she pretend to think. “Cream, doesn’t wear out your face.” Smiling, she turns around and continues to check herself out. “So who exactly will be going?” Hearing the sound of another text coming from Jaemin, you take a peek to see he had sent a picture of his own.

“Oh just my parents, some childhood friends and my boyfriend. “ “Speaking of boyfriend, will I be meeting this boy you’ve been messaging?” She wiggles her brows. “Nope, I still haven’t met him yet.” You chuckle. “Huh..” she breathes out before posing in front of the mirror. “So how are things with your boyfriend?” you ask. “Things are great! I’m so happy to be with him, he’s so sweet look he even got me this necklace.” Showing you the Diamond necklace you nod, you didn’t know much about this guy. If anything you never met him. It’s ironic how much she’s mentioned him and yet has never said his name. You don’t know how old he is, how he looks. Just that he goes to the same college as the two of you. Nayoung has even tried her best to keep him from entering your dorm. For whatever reason it is, she doesn’t want him coming over. A bit secretive with him really.

“Okay are you packed?” Nodding she smiles. “God you’re so lucky, you don’t have a lot of clothes to choose.” She sighs “ Well, I better get to finishing you don’t have to help me anymore thanks.” Grabbing your phone you close the door to your room behind you and lock it. A gasp escapes you, eyes widening at the nude he sent.

You don’t beat around the bush do ya?

Gotta show you how much you’re affecting me

Cute

My dick is cute?

Your dick looks delicious actually

Then how about you come over n suck it

Yeah but I love torturing you so keep fucking your hand for now.

Damn woman

Jaemin shut off his phone after he seen you left him on read. He was frustrated. Sexually frustrated, it’s humiliating knowing how affected he is by you. He doesn’t care he’s currently humping his pillow pretending it’s you. Chest heaving, a sweaty forehead as he chases after his release. Never has he had to work for someone this much. He would’ve given up and moved on but how could he, something about you entices him. Makes his want more, to go after you no matter the cost. He loves your banter, he loves how much you tease it keeps him on his toes. His hand going faster and faster until finally he felt the warm white liquid fall on his fingers. In the corner of his dark room, he catches his breath. Receiving another message but only groaning when he sees it’s Nayoung.

Can’t wait for tomorrow!

To say you weren’t cranky would be a lie. You knew you’d be getting up early you just underestimated how early. Nayoung isn’t a morning person and to think she would be demanding you to get up at 3 in the morning was the last thing on your mind of possibilities. Sitting in the back of the car as Nayoung claimed she would be picking up her boyfriend on the way. You didn’t mind, if anything you’d be taking the time to catch up on some needed sleep. A large blanket over you, you don’t hear the door to the passenger seat open and close. A smack of lips kissing and a cheerful voice greeting him.

“Is this your friend?” Nodding, she looks back to see you asleep. “Yep, she went back to sleep. She spent all night texting some guy. Kinda starting to think he doesn’t exist.” Raising a brow at her as she whispered the last part. “Whys that?” Shrugging her shoulders, eyes on the road. “She hasn’t mentioned his name, refuses to let me meet him and anytime I ask about him she tries to change the subject.” Jaemin only hums before looking out the window, dark eye bags beginning to become apparent as he too wasn’t exactly in the best mood. His hair was still a bit disheveled and he was only running on two hours of sleep. Guess his girlfriends friend wasn’t the only one up all night texting.

By the time the three of you arrived, you woke up abruptly by the slamming of a door. “Come on y/n we’re here!” You hear Nayoung shout from outside. Stretching and getting out, you’re left with carrying in the rest of the stuff. The cabin was large, only visited a handful of times. Loud voices are heard from the kitchen as Nayoung busies herself greeting the family. Huffing when you drop Nayoung’s heavy luggage inside you bump into someone on accident. “I’m sorry!” Tall and standing before you, Jaemin props his glasses up. Dropping down his bags and sending you a forced smile. “It’s alright.”

“Oh y/n! This is my boyfriend Jaemin!” The two of you freeze. Watching as she walks over to hook her arm around his. A grin on her face as she cuddles close to him. It couldn’t be right? Looking over and seeing he as well seemed tense but he kept a calm face. “H-Hello.” Giggling, she shakes her head. “Always so shy. Jaemin?” Nudging him, he seems to snap out of it. Clearing his throat before doing a quick half assed bow. “Hey.” Looking between the two of you, she makes a face. “Well that wasn’t awkward, anyways. Mom and dad wants to see you so shall we get going? Oh and y/n sorry we didn’t have enough rooms you don’t mind crashing on the couch right?” Shaking your head she smiles. “Great! You can leave your things in my room, you know where they are right?”

Not waiting for a response she drags him into the kitchen where it erupts in greetings. Laughs and giggles are heard, taking a small peek you see her friends are also in there as well. Gawking at him as he respectfully greets them. Sighing, you grab your things and go up the stairs. “Hey y/n do you mind carrying the rest of our luggages? Please, thank you!” Nayoung shouts as you were half way up the stairs.

You felt left out you weren’t going to lie. But then again, when haven’t you. Nayoung has always made it easy to fit in, to make conversation even though most of the time the topic always shifted over to her but overall, it was easy for her to get involved. Not you, it took a while for you to barely start lowering your walls. Just the idea of forcing yourself out of your shell sends shivers. How can you? You get the feeling Nayoung’s childhood friends don’t really like you as they always stare and mutter things under their breaths. And like all the other times you visited, you spent your time on the couch petting the family cat. “I’m so happy he likes you. He hates people, if anything he still isn’t quite fond of Nayoung.” Her mother giggles as she takes the other couch. Staring lovingly at the two of you. A warm smile forms on your face as you continue to pet the cat sitting on your lap. Her husband walking over to sit next to her, a mug in his hand as he nods.

“Toby hates Nayoung for some reason. Even before she went off to college he’d always hide from her.” By then everyone has shifted themselves into the living room. The group surrounding Nayoung, the smile slowly drops when she sees her parents conversing with you. “You must be a gem if Toby trusts you that much.” Her mother claps her hands. Jaemin takes a seat across from you, fighting back the look of boredom on his face. He can’t help but analyze you. Can it be the same y/n he’s been texting? Since he’s arrived, he hasn’t had the balls to text her. There’s no way the chick he’s been sexting is his girlfriends best friend. If that’s the case, he’s screwed.

A scoff is heard from beside him, looking up and see Nayoung enter the living room. “He’s just a dumb cat. I’m sure he’s only using you as a cushion.” “Well if that’s the case, I’m honored.” You smile down at the cat who purrs. Jaemin notices the scowl on his girlfriends face. He wonders why, it’s not like she particularly likes Toby. Every time he’s come over she’s always going on and on about how the cat terrorizes everything. “You should be, and Jaemin too! Toby loves him!” Looking up and meeting eyes with Jaemin you gulp before looking down. A silence is met before Nayoung speaks up. “Well it’s still pretty early and I’m tired. Jaemin lets go to bed.” One by one, everyone walks off to their bedrooms which leaves you on the couch with the grey and white cat. Head butting your hand, a few hours go by and you haven’t gotten the heart to move him. The sleep drowsiness has disappeared and you made due on being on your phone for the time being. A notification is sent from your phone, Jaemin.

It’s you isn’t it?

I don’t know what you’re talking about..

“Yes you do.” Jumping up, you see him standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Holy shit you scared me.” By the sudden jolt, Toby has taken it upon himself to get off your lap and plop down on his cat tree. Walking closer to you, you shift uncomfortably. You don’t know what to do, what can you do to make things better?

Silently getting closer, you open your mouth to explain yourself but he cuts you off. Instead he takes a seat besides you and smashes his lips on top of yours. A moan emits from you, it was quick and needy and you liked it. You liked it so much you even climbed on top of him. His arms coming around your waist to pull you closer. He smelled nice, his cologne hitting your nostrils and lips were soft and plump. Cupping his face to keep his lips on top of yours. A smile forming on his face before pulling away, “So you were the one teasing me huh?” A blush began to form on your face before awkwardly laughing. “So you’re my best friends boyfriend huh.” Clearing his throat he looks down uncomfortably. “Listen, I’m not the type to cheat okay? It’s just that I kinda had no choice but to be in a relationship with her and-“

“She trapped you yeah I know, she has done that with all of her exes.” Raising a brow he looks up at you. “Really?” Nodding, you sigh. “She can’t keep a man for the life of her so she forces one on them by using her father to get them to agree. He’s rich and powerful, wouldn’t be surprised he’d have you kicked out of college or have you be fired from your job. Blacklisted for any future opportunities and more.” “If I’d known earlier I would’ve tried avoiding crossing paths. Why are you friends with her?”

“I don’t know, I guess she was the only one who stayed.” “Stayed? What happened if I may ask.” “I don’t know, one second I had tons of friends who could rely on me and the next, I was hated.” You look down sadly. Startled when he plants a kiss on your cheek, a grin on his face as his eyes adoringly stare at you. “I’m glad I finally met you.” “I’m glad too-“. Reciprocating his kiss, you begin to grind on top of him. A groan from him only has you doing it again and again. Pushing him down on the couch as his hands roam all over your body. Piece by piece, clothes are scattered on the floor and heavy breathing gets louder. Your head is thrown back when you feel yourself stretch around him. A large hand going to cover your mouth. Leaning in, his mouth attaching itself onto your nipple and sucking. Sensitive, you begin to bounce on his lap. Hands on his chest as he guides you to go faster. Trying to keep the slapping sounds at bay. The feeling of him deep in your snatch had your head spinning, it truly has been a while since you’ve had sex. It was wrong that the first person you sleep with is your best friends boyfriend but you just love it so much.

And it seems you’re not the only one. For the remainder of the weekend the two of you have gotten closer. Sneaky glances thrown and secret meet ups. When in the kitchen alone, he smacks your ass before leaving a kiss on your cheek. A shit eating grin on his face when he meets with the others. Content he’s finally getting you back for all the teasing you’ve done. “Are you alright y/n? Your face is super red?” Nayoung’s mother says. “Probably a bad reaction to one of her creams. I keep telling her she doesn’t have to keep putting on so many products. Going natural is just as pretty.” Nayoung sends you a smile. Speaking up for you, a strong grip on your fork, you don’t bother to explain yourself. “I’m okay.”

Jaemin certainly didn’t like it. And he certainly didn’t like how easily you let her comment slide. “I try to say the same thing to you as well Nayoung. No reason you need fifty bottles of foundation. A day or two without it wouldn’t hurt babe.” He sends her a smile before taking a bite from his food. Tensing, Nayoung is left without words. Embarrassed by the looks her friends sends her. A scowl on her face as she desperately tries to change the subject. “So! Should we hit the beach later on?” “Yes!” Her friends clap. “Okay good! After we’re done we’ll pick out our bikinis!”

Bikini’s? Nayoung never mentioned there would be swimming involved? You didn’t even pack any clothes to get wet in. The closest thing you had were shorts and even then they weren’t comfortable to get wet with.

“It’s a bummer you can’t get in.” Nayoung pouts at you, watching you set your towel on the sand. Sunglasses on as you send her a reassuring smile. “Eh it’s okay, I’ve gotten too much sun anyways-“. “Yeah you’re looking a little dark, how about you stay under my moms umbrella for the time being okay? Hope you don’t get too bored!” She says before scurrying off to her friends. Clenching your jaw, you try to not let her words affect you. Has she always been this snakey? Or is this you trying to justify your actions for hooking up with her boyfriend. Surely she must’ve always been this terrible to you from the beginning.

“Come on.” “Huh?” Looking over and seeing Jaemin has his hand extended you raise a brow. “Where?” “Less questions and more walking, come on.” Allowing him to drag you away, he takes you to a near by store. “Bikini’s?” “Get one, it’s on me.” “You don’t need to-“ “I want to, besides I need to get sunscreen.” He wonders off for it, and as he does so you look around the store. Eyes straying on a red two piece, you go to the fitting rooms and liking the look of it on you. Getting out, Jaemin freezes when he sees you. “How do I look?” Checking to see if anyones watching, he pushes you inside and closes the door behind him. Dropping the bottle of sun cream and picking you up. Leaning you up against the wall he desperately connects your lips with his. Running a hand through his hair, he begins to dry hump you. A moan comes out of you that he muffled with his mouth. A hand coming to wrap around your neck and lightly squeeze. “Fuck you’re so hot.” His pupils dilated as he leans in and press kisses to your chest.

Pulling the top down to reveal your perky tits. Sucking and fondling with them, looking to the side and seeing the mirror reflecting the lewd actions he’s doing. “We should get going, don’t want to raise suspicion.” You tell him with heavy breathing. Reluctantly detaching himself from you and setting you down. “Don’t change.” Grabbing your clothes and lotion, the two of you walk out and make your way to the counter. Ripping off the tag and handing it to the cashier as he pays for it. By the time the two of you make your way back, you hear shouting. “Babe where have you been?” Nayoung gets closer. “Needed sunscreen and got y/n a bathing suit.” Eyes turning to look at you, the plastic smile ready to falter. “Oh! How nice..well come on let’s get in the water feels nice!” She goes for his hand but he takes a step back.

“Yeah I will in a bit, you should join the others they seem pretty lost with out you.” Looking back and seeing her friends looking bored without her. “Oh okay. Glad you can join us after all y/n.” She sends you a smile before going back in. Feeling a tug, you look down and see Jaemin had taken his shirt off. “Help me put sunscreen on yeah?”

You can practically feel the daggers being thrown at you. But you ignored it, you liked making her jealous. A part of you felt proud you had the upper hand than Nayoung. Even more that it’s with her boyfriend. Turning around, you put some on his chest. Running your hands over his abs, his eyes looking directly into yours. “I really badly need to fuck you.” Rolling your eyes, you go to walk away but he stops you. “Now y/n.”

“Are you seeing this?” One of Nayoung’s friends says as they all watch Jaemin slowly put on sunscreen on you. Going up your leg and too close to your ass. “I knew it was a mistake to introduce them.” She scoffs. “Come on hun, do you really think he’ll do anything with her?” “It’s not him I’m worried, poor girl is so deprived I worry she’ll do anything for attention.” She pouts. “Don’t worry, Jaemin’s too smitten for you. He’d never be unfaithful to you.” Smiling she turns over to her friends. “Thanks guys, besides we’re really strong.” “So strong that should we assume he’ll pop the question anytime soon?”

Nodding they squeal. “I’m sure he already has the ring set out for me.” She claps her hands.

“Jaemin anyone can walk in on us any second!” You smack Jaemin’s bicep, currently in a dark small closet the cabin had he had managed to cramped you two inside. It was loud outside, music blasting as the others conversed with one another. Luggages were being packed and dinner was being cooked. In a few hours you were meant to be making your way back home and instead, have a clingy boy stuck to your side. A grin on his face as he leans in and kisses you. “Need you…” he pouts as he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck. Hands beginning to roam down your side and to your back. Biting your lip when you feel him squeeze your ass, gasping when you feel his bulge after he pulled you closer to him.

“No one will hear us mhm?” He breathes in your ear as he peppers your neck. Massaging your cheeks as he has you pinned against the wall. You can’t ignore the arousal in your pants but it didn’t stop you from worrying of being potentially caught. “No sir.” Pushing him away, you reach for the door knob. Feeling him pull you inside again roughly when Nayoung’s faint voice was heard going up the stairs. “I have no idea where he went.” She tells her friends. “I bet he’s with y/n again. They have been way too close.” “I’m sure he feels bad, I mean she is the odd one out.” Nayoung reasons. “She’s a loner Nayoung, girls like her use that to reel men in.” Clenching your jaw, you don’t notice Jaemin wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Ignore them.” He whispers into your ear. Once you were sure they had left, you don’t utter a word and merely walk out. Leaving him in the closet by himself.

Nayoung always assumed she’d be the first to seal the deal between the two of you. The first to have a boyfriend, to be engaged and to start a family. Unlike her, you didn’t grow up with a lot so she always had more than you. The advantages like starting her own independent life. You had to start from scratch, lots of hours working for you to save. It’s what the world admired about you. It’s what they respected you for, many could relate to you. And even through all the hardships you still smiled. You stayed optimistic and it’s why you had so many friends, why so many guys wanted your number instead of Nayoung’s.

“I’m sorry I’m not interested.” “Actually I wanted to see if you can give me your friend, y/n’s number.”

For a while it seemed like Nayoung was the forgotten one. It was all about her friend Y/n. What you were up to, how you were doing. She just wanted to see what the fuss was about in having so many people care about you. So the cosmetics came in, then the surgeries, the hard diets. But when they weren’t enough, the lies came in.

“Oh sure, but I have to say she’s currently going through something. Chlamydia actually.”

She didn’t mean for the lies to keep progressing but she just wanted to take some of the attention off you and divert it over to her.

“She thinks you’re a freak.”

She did feel bad though when people eventually began to hate you. And before she knew it, she was the only friend you had left. Boys avoided you and girls despised you. Your last boyfriend only cheated on you because Nayoung lied to him saying you had cheated on him.

“I guess she thought you just weren’t good enough, I don’t know what to tell you. But, if I were her I would know I made a big mistake. You’re a catch.” Her hand lays on top of his, a reassuring and innocent smile plastered on her face before leaning in and kissing him.

For years now she was finally on the other end, the one who everyone praised and idolized. And a part of her liked how she can control you, it felt nice to be better for once. And seeing how close you and Jaemin have gotten definitely hasn’t been putting her at ease.

During dinner she made sure Jaemin sat next to her and away from you. Served him and kissed him at unconventional times. By the end of the night it seemed she was utterly in love with him, which is why she just had to rub it in just a little deeper into your face. “I’m going to tell him I love him.” Taking you by surprise, you suppress any distasteful emotion. “That’s great! I’m sure he’ll feel the same.” He won’t. You’re sure of that. “I want to live with him y/n.” Widening your eyes, “Live together? But what about dorms? It’s still mandatory to be in one and you can’t exactly room with a guy.”

“Only for a few more months.” Sighing and sitting back on the couch she smiles dreamily. “I’m telling you, he’s the man of my dreams.” You didn’t have much to say. Which only made you more guilty with how you’ve been treating her behind her back. It seemed she really did like him, after all she has been stuck by your side when everyone else turned against you. “Then tell him how you feel.”

“We can’t keep doing this.”

It’s been three months since the visit to Nayoung’s parents. Three months since you said you’d stop hooking up with him and finally today you’d be calling it off. “Like hell you are, what the hell y/n. Where is this coming from?” A duvet wrapped around your body, you sit up on the bed. Messy hair with smeared makeup as you don’t even dare meet eyes with Jaemin. With only briefs on, he gets out of bed. Disheveled hair, muscles more prominent and the red marks you left on him still apparent. Lip stains on his neck with dark love marks going down his collar bone. A frown on his face as he demands an explanation, even when he’s upset he’s still breathtakingly attractive. “It’s not right.” A sarcastic laugh falls out of his mouth as he searches for his clothes.

“You’re finally realizing that after months?” Looking at you for any other answers, he drops his shirt on the bed and climbs back on. Cradling your face, he looks at you worriedly. “Talk to me baby, what’s wrong?” Feeling the tears beginning to form, you shrug him off. You don’t trust your voice, there’s a ball beginning to form and you know if you dare speak a work you’ll only sob. About to get out of bed, he grabs you by the waist. “No, you’re not running way again. Talk to me-“ “Jaemin you’re in a relationship with Nayoung! She loves you and even wants to live with you and here we are having sex!”

“She’s not you!” Looking away, he huffs and wraps his arms around your torso. “I love you.” Taken by surprise, you turn to face him with wide eyes. “Come again?” “I’ve never said that to any of my exes, and it sucks that this is the situation that we are in but, im not lying. I love you, not Nayoung. It’s why I didn’t say it back when she said it to me.”

“Really?” Smiling, he nods and leans in for a kiss you grant him happily. “I still think it’s wrong. Maybe if we confess then she will let you go. Yeah it will permanently ruin our friendship but you at least deserve your freedom.” Shaking his head he sighs. “It’s her father i’m worried for.” Feeling dejected, you let him pull you into a cuddle. Back under the sheets as he peppers your face in kisses. Until there’s a loud slam on the door, eyes widening Jaemin lifts a finger to his mouth. Your door was locked thankfully.

“Let me check if she’s home…hey y/n! You home?!” Knocking on the door and trying to open it but to no avail. Shaking his head, he covers your mouth. “Guess she’s not home.” She says, she must’ve brought someone. Getting up to change, you can’t but overhear her speak.

“Can’t believe you’re still friends with her after everything she did.” Confused, you lean your ear up gassing the door. “Well I mean, she’s my best friend-“ “Yes but she cheated on her boyfriend.”

Cheated?

“She didn’t know what she was doing.”

Why the hell is Nayoung agreeing?

“Yeah well what about her bullying you?”

You looked back at Jaemin in shock as he as well seems surprised.

“That was years ago, she’s getting better.”

You didn’t understand why Nayoung was agreeing with such false claims. You have never cheated on your boyfriend nor have you ever bullied Nayoung.

“Well at least she got her karma right?” The girl snorts. “Getting chlamydia, having all the guys lose interest in her and having no friends- well except you. I must say I admire you. I don’t know how you put up with such a mess.”

“I try my hardest.” You hear her giggle. “She’s a loner and a social freak, the least I could do is make sure she has at least a companion or who knows she might just end it all.” “Are you saying she’s suicidal?” “I’m saying who knows! You never know what people are thinking now a days.”

Your heart broke. All those accusations weren’t real and to think more people thought they were true hurt even more. You didn’t even realize you began to cry until you felt Jaemin wipe a tear away. They chatted for a few minutes before leaving and by then you have sat yourself down against the door. “Why would she lie?” You ask to no one.

Jaemin stayed quiet. Arms crossed and a clenched jaw, he immediately understood what Nayoung had done. “Isn’t it obvious?” Looking up at him with red swollen eyes you shake your head. “She spread false rumors about you!” “What why?”

“Come on baby.” Crouching down, he pulls a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re gorgeous, sweet, smart. You’re everyone’s type.” “Are you saying she did it out of jealousy?” Scoffing you shake your head. “No, Nayoung is the pretty one. Everyone wants her.” “I don’t. I want you.” “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” You scoff. “Okay then let’s talk to your ex.” “What why?” “Because we both know the cheater in your past relationship wasn’t you.” The memory still hurt. You never did find out who he cheated on you with only that he was ‘much happier’ and that you weren’t shit to him anymore.

“You’re wasting your time.” Shaking his head, he pulls out his phone and begins to search for his account. “What are you planning to do.” “We’re going to pay him a little visit. Come on let’s get dressed.”

“I don’t think this is such a good idea-“ Cutting you off by giving you a kiss, he gives you a smile. “Just hold my hand, he does anything to hurt you I promise I’ll kick his ass.” Walking into the cafe, you immediately spot your ex. Deep eye bags adorned his face, his hair was longer and dead. He looked much scrawnier and almost exhausted even. Taking a seat in front of you, you don’t have the words to even greet him.

“Y/n. Jaemin.” He speaks.

“What can i do for you.”

“The truth.” Jaemin cuts to the chase. Quirking his brow, he leans forward. “The truth?” “Who did you sleep with?” Jaemin tells him sternly. Scoffing, he chuckles dryly and shakes his head. “Why am I hearing an accusingly tone. Shouldn’t we start with who y/n slept with first?”

“I didn’t sleep with anyone.” You speak up.

“Right. Like I believe that-“

“Did Nayoung tell you anything.” Jaemin cut him off. “Nayoung helped me realize I was wasting my time on her.” He glares at you. “Did she tell you she was cheating?” Staying quiet, his face falls. “Why do you care?…wait aren’t you her boyfriend.” His jaw clenched and he sits up straighter.

“So you’re the guy she dumped me for.” Eyes widening, you look at him. “Nayoung was the girl you slept with?” Scoffing he shakes his head. “I didn’t sleep with her we only kissed.” He huffs. “She told me you cheated on me, she comforted me and we kissed. She had me to believe she wanted to be with me but when I broke things off with you she ghosted me.” The two of you send each other looks, “Why? Was that not what really happened?…”

You felt betrayed. You wonder how long has it been since she’s been a snake to you.

“She told me you kissed my boyfriend.”

“She said you had chlamydia.”

“I heard her say you were mentally unstable.”

You wanted to believe it was all a lie but it made sense why everyone suddenly avoided you like the plague. No one daring to befriend you or ever ask you out. You were sure you’d die a loner if it wasn’t for Nayoung and now you come to find out you were put into this situation because of her.

You couldn’t stop your heart from squeezing in agony. The friend you considered a sister you cared for so deeply had ruined your life out of what? Spite? Jealousy? Fun even?

The guilt you had building in you disintegrated almost instantly. You don’t have quite the perfect idea as to how you plan on getting even with her, how you’re going to help Jaemin get out of his god forsaken relationship with her, how you’re going to let the world know just how a trashy person she really is but you do know one thing, if you’re going to keep sleeping with her boyfriend you’re going to do it without a care in the world. Holding hands together literally behind her back when the three of you go out for ice cream, his subtle hand on your thigh when you go to the movies. The glances you give one another when you two had no other choice but to be dragged by her at a fancy restaurant with friends. Having sex in the parking lot after making an excuse to leave early. Making out while she’s showering and even sexting each other with her around. You no longer cared, and instead it made you just a tiny bit better knowing Nayoung no longer had it all,

“They completely cut me out and I don’t know why! Can you believe that?! After everything I did for them they have the audacity to treat me like dirt? And that’s not even mentioning the weird looks I’ve been receiving from guys. It’s like I’m infected or something.” No but rumors are you caught a case of syphilis

BUZZ…

Come over, I need you now.

Photo Sent

You were finally taking your life back from her. Piece by piece.

feel free to reblog + mention in tags which phone brand and model you have!

safety zone | l.mk

pairing ❥ mark x reader genre ❥ angst, fluff, suggestive, university! au, best friends to lovers, roommate au word count ❥ 19.1k note ❥ this was inspired by sticker teaser mark. also because he really does keep pushing the parasocial relationship agenda these days. i really hope you guys like this because it took me at least 40+ hours to get it out so it's practically my baby now playlist ❥ west coast love - emotional oranges | saturday nights - khalid | hits different - taylor swift |  shutdown - moonbyul, seori synopsis ❥ Mark Lee. The most perfect roommate and best friend that you could have asked for - except for the fact that he constantly messes up your laundry and can’t cook eggs very well. Even then, that doesn’t quite stop you from falling for him in your final year.

You suppose meeting Mark Lee was a stroke of fate. Whether good or not, you had yet to find out.

Freshman orientation, and you had just been deposited on the concrete steps of the main university building by your parents, who were quick to drive off after giving you one last hug.

And as you passed through the hallowed halls where you were meant to spend the next five years of your life, thousands of other people your age rushing past you, you were excited. That you were finally on your own, free to do quite literally whatever the fuck you wanted.

The freedom was going to go to your head, and cause you to probably make a few bad decisions, but that was a problem for later.

For now, you had to get registered. If you could even find that tiny blue booth in this gigantic place.

And as you pulled your luggage up the steps, staring at the phone screen with your other hand, you supposed it was partially your fault that you didn’t see the boy walking straight past you, and also your fault that you didn’t hear him muttering an ‘excuse me’ under his breath.

However, it was a little too late to realise that before you were sent flying to the ground, a harsh exhale of air leaving you as you hit the ground with a thump.

And as you winced in pain, you looked up, only to be met with the culprit himself.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. Went too fast.” The boy in front of you is wide-eyed, hands fisting nervously in the material of his washed out jeans, the grey plaid flannel hanging loosely over his shoulders and white-shirt. “You good?”

He extends a hand out to you, and you take it without thinking as he pulls you up. It’s a while before you collect yourself, glancing at him and not quite sure what to say.

“Um,” he scratches the back of his neck, cringing slightly. “Really sorry about that. First day here and I’m already knocking people down. I guess Hyuck was right.”

You have no idea who Hyuck is, and why he’s predicting the future for the awkward, gangly-limbed boy in front of you, but the sight of his expression makes you soften a little. He’s genuinely apologetic about it, and you suppose that beyond your ass being sore for the next two days, there hasn’t been much harm done.

“It’s okay. You’re a freshman too?” You ask, trying to break the ice a little - he seems nice enough, the kind of person who you’d smile at on campus when passing by.

At your question, he laughs a little, eyes lighting up. “Yeah. I was trying to find the registration counter before I crashed right into you.”

“Well, if you help me find it, consider this accident gone from my memory. I’m a little lost too,” you offer, and he nods eagerly. “No problem. It’s down that way, I think.”

And when he turns, motioning for you to follow, you smile. Your first friend on campus. Sort of.

“Hey, I realised I still don’t know your name,” you say, and Mystery Boy seems to hesitate for a moment, before smiling at you.

“Mark Lee. Engineering faculty. You?”

“Y/N. Early education.”

“So you wanna be a teacher?” he asks, and you shrug. “Don’t know. I’m not sure how much I like working with kids yet.”

“That’s fair. Oh, we’re here.” He halts his steps, joining the queue with you.

It’s not long before the both of you reach the front, the students being registered in pairs.

The person handling the both of you is a young-looking guy, and his nametag reads Jung Jaehyun. When he smiles, his dimples are obvious, and you find yourself relaxing a little.

“Registration documents, please. We’ll get this done quickly,” he says, quickly scanning the papers that you and Mark hand over.

“You’ll be staying in the dorms for the first semester, and then afterwards, you can either do rental on your own, or off-campus housing. Any ideas yet?” Jaehyun asks, and you motion for Mark to go first.

“Um, rental on my own.”

You nod in agreement at that. “Yeah, me too.”

You’ve heard that the off-campus housing isn’t that great, and almost the same price as apartments in the city.

“Well, that works. Though, word of advice-” Jaehyun rests his hand on the table, meeting both of your eyes. “Get a roommate. Or two. Saves lots of money. Preferably one who doesn’t smoke copious amounts of weed, because it stinks up the entire house.”

He says it like he has personal experience, and you cough into your hand, nodding.

“Either of you got roommates yet?”

“No.” You and Mark say it in unison, looking at each other when you realise it and grinning slightly.

Jaehyun leans back, looking at the both of you with an unreadable look in his eyes. “Either of you stoners?”

You and Mark shake your head, and he whistles, impressed. “That’s rare. Well, just rent an apartment together, then.”

You glance at Mark, not quite sure what to say - you just met the man, after all.

“Um, we’ll think about it. Thanks for the suggestion,” he says, and Jaehyun nods. “No problem. here are your nametags, and you can head to the central square for the welcome activities.”

Your fingers close around the thin plastic folder, quickly thanking Jaehyun before you leave with Mark, the suggestion still lingering in your mind.

You do need a roommate. And Mark seems like a chill enough person, unless he’s secretly a serial killer.

“So…where are you planning to rent?”

“Probably somewhere near the city centre, but south. It’s nearer to the engineering faculty.”

When Mark says that, you feel a little bit more hopeful. “Me too. The education building’s just two subway stops down.”

“I wouldn’t mind, actually. You pay rent on time?”

“Yeah, I will. Dividing chores?”

“Of course. Also, just to make sure-” his mouth quirks up at the side. “You’re not a serial killer, right?”

“Fortunately not. I was thinking the same thing too.”

“Okay, great to know that we’re both not serial killers.” His comment lightens the mood a little, and you pause in your steps, outstretching your hand to Mark.

“Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in, and we can be friends first before deciding if we want to rent together next semester.”

He doesn’t protest, quickly slipping his phone out of his pocket and keying in his password.

And as you take it, you see his wallpaper - it’s a little white dog, staring up into the camera while someone’s sneakers are in frame - maybe his.

“Your wallpaper is cute. Is it your dog?” you ask, and Mark’s cheeks redden slightly as he shakes his head. “My friend’s. She’s called Daegal.”

“She’s really small. I wanted a dog when I was a kid,” you say off-handedly, quickly typing in your number and saving it with a ‘Y/N (potential future roomie)’ before giving his phone back to him. “Here.”

“You could get one next time.”

“Maybe. I can barely take care of myself now. I’m not sure if I can handle a dog.”

“I could ask my friend for advice, if you need it,” he says, smiling when he sees the contact name you saved. “Anyways, I’ll see you around, potential future roomie. We can get coffee next week or something.”

“Sounds good to me. By the way, Mark-”

He looks up at you, hands already tucked into his pockets.

“Who’s Hyuck?”

You only meet Hyuck, or otherwise known to everyone else as Lee Donghyuck, after you actually become roommates with Mark.

Somewhere along the way, the coffee outings had worked out, neither you or Mark finding each other’s presence unwanted, until it became natural to see Mark at least twice a week. Sometimes, it was midnight fries at McDonalds, and other times, it was lunches in the food hall, praying that the fresh pasta hadn’t yet run out.

And when the semester ended, you hadn’t hesitated to sign the lease that Mark handed you, for a perfectly-sized two-bedroom apartment overlooking one of the many crisscrossing side streets that made up the district.

It had the kitchenette you wanted, enough space in the living room for a four-person couch, and space for Mark to put his keyboard and guitar - which was the only thing he really wanted, honestly. The rest of the finishing touches had been suggested by you, like the IKEA oak coffee table and the extra cabinets for storage space.

The first month had been awkward and fraught with trivial disagreements, despite your relatively close friendship. Things like Mark not separating the blacks and whites during his laundry runs, or your terrible habit of leaving the bathroom light on at night. At some point, the both of you had even bickered over what plates to get, partially because you didn’t trust him with fragile items quite yet.

But his easygoing nature matched well with yours, and eventually the both of you settled into the rhythm of living together. He learnt that rule number one was to never go into your room without knocking or asking first, and you eventually stopped nagging at him to put a shirt on unless you were having friends over.

And sometime in August, you had come home, groceries in both of your hands, to find a complete stranger sitting on your couch, headphones placed squarely on his head.

You had screamed at him. and Donghyuck, naturally, had screamed back.

The both of you looked at each other, frozen, before Mark came rushing down the hallway, a confused expression on his face. “What- oh.”

“Mark, I thought you told her I was coming,” the man complains, his honey-brown hair falling over his eyes as he says it. Your gaze immediately shifts to your roommate, a very clear expression of what the hell? on your face.

“I think I forgot. Sorry. Um, Y/N, this is Hyuck.” Mark motions in the general periphery of the man on the couch, who smiles sweetly at you.

“Donghyuck to you. We’re not friends yet. Though we could be,” the boy adds thoughtfully, and you still haven’t quite recovered from the shock of the situation as you nod robotically. “Nice to meet you.”

Mark seems to notice the tension in the air, and immediately moves over to the kitchen counter. “I’ll help you unpack the groceries,” he offers, and you hand a few bags over to him.

Once Donghyuck’s out of earshot, however, you turn to Mark. “Is he staying for dinner? I don’t know if I bought enough ingredients.”

You and Mark had agreed to alternate cooking dinners each week, unless the other person had extenuating circumstances (like final exams). This week, it was your turn.

“It’s fine. If he doesn’t have enough, he can just make ramen,” Mark says, and you nod.

“Mark says you’re a really good cook.” The both of you jump at the sound of Donghyuck’s voice, not realising he came up behind at some point.

“That’s just because I can crack eggs, and Mark can’t.” You snort slightly at the expression on Mark’s face when you say that, his eyes widening in incredulity.

“You said I improved!”

“Having less eggshells to chew through in my omelette was an improvement,” you say, and his face falls comically. While he has made some improvements since learning to cook, you suppose eggs are the one thing that still intimidate him - Mark relies a lot more on oven-baked dinners and the air fryer to get the both of you through.

“You’re brave for eating what he makes,” Donghyuck comments.

“Very brave,” you say gravely, and he laughs. “I like her, Mark. She’s funny.”

“Thanks a lot, guys. Really feeling the love here,” your roommate grumbles, but Donghyuck ignores him, turning to you.

“Can we have kimchi-jjigae for dinner?” he asks, and you stiffen, because the ingredients you prepared are exactly for that dish. But you don’t quite want to give Donghyuck that satisfaction yet, only tilting your head up and narrowing your eyes at him.

“This isn’t a restaurant. You’ll eat what I give you.”

His eyes widen slightly, but it’s quickly replaced by mirth. “Noted, ma’am,” he retorts, and you decide that Donghyuck is the kind of person who’s annoying as all hell, but in the fun kind of way that makes you want to have him around and groan at his presence at the same time.

“Now, I need the both of you to move to the couch, because this kitchenette is way too small for three.” You make a shooing motion towards the two men, and thankfully, they listen obediently, Donghyuck returning back to his laptop.

After a while, you hear shuffling, and you turn to see Mark with his lips pursed, barely holding back a laugh. At the sight of his obvious amusement, you raise an eyebrow.

“Look at this video,” he says, turning the phone screen towards you, and you squint at the grainy resolution, before letting out a groan.

“Mark, this video is like, a decade old. No one watches Vines anymore,” you grumble, and your roommate stares at you incredulously. “But it’s still funny!”

“No, it’s not,” you say dryly, looking to Donghyuck for support, who’s watching the entire thing play out with amusement on his features. “Donghyuck, tell him the video isn’t funny.”

“That’s what I said. He sends me at least two a day,” the boy says from where he’s cross-legged on the couch, and Mark flashes you a look of utter, complete betrayal.

“Sorry, Mark,” you say lightly, patting him on the back in an act of comfort before he returns to the couch, dejected. It’s almost cute, and you hide your snort as you return back to your spot at the stove.

“What about this one?” You hear Mark ask Hyuck a few minutes later, who doesn’t hesitate to disagree and go on a tirade about how he doesn’t understand someone can be that unfunny and think it’s okay to put me through it by sending video after video.

The conversation only makes you smile as you settle into the familiar motion of prepping ingredients, something about it making you feel more at ease and more at home in the apartment that you’ve been in for only four months.

Corny sense of humor aside, you couldn’t ask for a better roommate. And you suppose Lee Donghyuck is okay too.

Eventually, the both of you do become friends, especially when Donghyuck realises the kimchi-jjigae you make is almost as good as his grandma’s, and while she’s a three-hour flight away, you and Mark live twenty minutes from his dorm.

Your freshman year passes that way, the beginning of so many things. Between the months spent studying and sitting at the counter eating ramen at midnight, Mark Lee becomes your best friend, until the both of you are almost inseparable.

And Donghyuck? Well, he comes and goes. Though you suppose you do have a modicum of affection for the overly dramatic theatre major.

There’s something thrilling about being in your final year, less than twelve months before you graduate.

You wonder if everything will be the same as it always is.

“Who the fuck is Draymond Green?”

“He’s a basketball player, you idiot.”

“You could have said Stephen Curry. I know who that is.”

“Is that the only one you know?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Donghyuck sets down his drink as he says it, eyes deliberately challenging Chenle to continue their pointless banter, one that the rest of you witness quietly, already used to the both of them.

“If the both of you are done, try finishing the food. We ordered too much,” Jisung says, and both Donghyuck and Chenle turn towards him in sync.

“Are you giving me instructions?” Donghyuck asks incredulously.

“I’m older than you, you know,” Chenle not-so-helpfully points out, and you look at the youngest boy sympathetically as his shoulders sink and his lips purse in an almost comical expression of frustration.

Except that it’s Jisung, and you’ve always had a soft spot for the introverted dance major, who’s like a little brother to you.

“Quit it, you two. He acts more mature than the both of you on most days.” At your words, Jisung smiles brightly at you, and you motion for him to eat a little more. “A dance major needs more food.”

“Theatre majors need food too!” Donghyuck whines dramatically, and you don’t hesitate to move the plate away from him, ignoring his protests that become even louder.

“You should eat too,” Mark encourages in a low murmur, picking up the tempura with his chopsticks and placing it on your plate. “You didn’t take much.”

You smile at him, shaking your head. “It’s okay. Yeji bought pizza for everyone today after our meeting, and Ms Lee let us finish the leftover muffins. I’m stuffed.”

“Still, you shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach,” he chides, moving the can of cider a little further from you, and you decide to relent to your best friend’s demand.

“Got it. You know, you should have just gone for a degree in Nutrition,” you tease, and the corner of Mark’s mouth quirks up as he meets your eyes. “I could. But Engineering’s…fun.”

“Don’t lie, Mark. I sat in on one of your lectures once.”

“That’s because it was the middle of the year! And data structures is one of the hardest topics in the syllabus.”

“Still, I think that was enough numbers to last me a lifetime.” You shiver at the memory of the screen, the different formulas displayed having been enough to give you a headache.

“I could teach you,” he offers, and you raise an eyebrow. “You think you’re better than Mr Kim?”

“Probably. Unless you see me as a balding sixty-five-year-old on the verge of sleep.”

“I mean, there is a slight resemblance- ow!”

Mark pinches your side at your comment, taking more food and dumping it in your bowl. “No more nonsense. Eat, or you’re never getting your drink back.”

“You’re so bossy,” you grumble, but you take a few bites anyway, and he looks pleased when he sees you finish a little bit more of the rice.

Until you see Jisung frantically taking out his phone in your peripheral vision, his screen lighting up with something that makes him let out a guttural groan. Donghyuck and Chenle pause their conversation temporarily, just to turn towards him.

“What’s wrong?” Chenle asks, and Jisung seems to hesitate, fingers drumming on the table as he meets your gazes one by one.

“I forgot I have filming at eight tomorrow. Fuck,” he says, ruffling his own hair in frustration.

“And your dorm’s so far away from here too…”

You look at Mark, trying to think of a solution.

“Jisung?” The boy opposite looks up at your mention of his name. “How about you stay at our place tonight?” you offer.

He seems to think about it, glancing towards Mark for approval as well. Your roommate only shrugs. “Sure. We’ll make space.”

All at once, Jisung’s features seem to light up, and he clasps his hands together, head bent down. “Thank you. You two are lifesavers.”

His earnest words make you laugh softly. “Should we head back then? It’s late.”

Mark nods, motioning for the bill, and you pack up your things.

Eventually, the five of you leave the restaurant and step out onto the smooth cobblestone of the street, with Jisung, Donghyuck and Chenle in front while you and Mark trail behind.

“i can’t believe it’s already November,” Mark comments, gaze tilted upwards to the sky.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve even registered that we’re in our final year. Much less that the first semester is ending.”

“But you’ve got everything all planned out already, haven't you?”

“Sort of,” you reply sheepishly, and Mark laughs, shaking his head. “You’re way too ambitious. It’s a little scary.”

“Pretty sure I remember someone saying that ambition led to success in my high school Civics class. Either way, I want to retire by the time I’m forty.”

“Before that, could you use your income to buy us a bigger apartment?”

“What, you think we’ll be roommates with each other until I’m forty?”

“I don’t see why not,” Mark says earnestly, and it makes the space he takes up in your heart get a little bigger, curling warmly at the edges.

“I’ll think about it. Maybe I’ll move to an island in the middle of nowhere, away from civilization.”

‘As if. You’re a city girl,” he points out, and you know that Mark knows that you know he’s right. “So, roommates at forty?” he asks, and your lips tilt up involuntarily.

“Sure.”

It’s not long before you’re standing at the entrance of your apartment building, Donghyuck and Chenle waving goodbye before they head to the subway station. Meanwhile, Jisung follows behind the both of you, slightly reminiscent of a lost puppy.

Once you’re back home, you quickly hang your jacket in the cabinet. “I’m showering first, okay?”

The two boys make a noise of assent at your question, and you assume Mark’s going to lend Jisung his clothes to change into as they go down the hallway.

It’s only when you step out of the bathroom that you hear the soft background sound effects of some video game from Mark’s room, Jisung occasionally exclaiming something inaudible, and you smile slightly. Your best friend isn’t one for these sorts of things, but it’s quite a big hobby for the rest of them. There have been a few times where you’ve shuffled out of your bedroom at midnight to tell them to quiet down, usually receiving a few quickly muttered apologies before Donghyuck’s screaming at Mark to get his head in the game.

You hope that they won’t stay up too late, mainly for Jisung’s sake - he has a shoot, after all, and you’re pretty sure Mark doesn’t have any morning lessons on Saturdays.

Sleep finds you quickly, the alcohol from earlier making you just the right amount of drowsy as you attempt to set an alarm for tomorrow for breakfast.

“Y/N.”

“Hey, wake up.”

“Y/N.”

You let out a groan into your pillow, turning away from the dream voice that sounds suspiciously like Mark - you’re too tired to deal with this.

But the voice doesn’t go away, instead changing to an insisted hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake, and you open your eyes to glare sleepily at your best friend, before looking at the clock.

“It’s four in the morning, Mark. Unless there’s a fire or something-”

“If there was a fire, I’d sound a lot more panicked than this, don’t you think?” he shoots back sarcastically, and you take in his appearance - he’s wearing a grey hoodie, a pillow hugged in his left arm, and looking just a little forlorn.

“What is it? I want to sleep,” you mumble.

“Jisung takes up too much space. And he snores.”

“Just push him.”

“I tried! Fell off the bed,” he confesses, and you would laugh at the scene, except that you’re still half-asleep.

“Can I just sleep here for tonight?” he asks, doe eyes blinking at you blearily, and you hesitate at the request - it’s not like you’re uncomfortable with Mark sleeping next to you. You’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder plenty of times, and there was that one time where you literally passed out drunk and the boy had to piggyback you to your apartment, but this is your bed.

However, you’re also well aware that Mark’s bed is a twin size, which is smaller and probably highly uncomfortable for him and Jisung to share, while yours is a queen.

You were being overdramatic. It was just a bed, and Mark was your best friend. Of three years, no less.

Also, it literally didn’t have to mean anything.

Right?

There was plenty of space. Enough for you to keep your distance from him.

You chalk up your doubts to late-night overthinking, and nod slowly. Well, as best as someone can nod while lying on their side, but it’s enough for Mark to smile at you gratefully.

“Take the left side. If you move over, I’ll kick you,” you threaten, and he nods eagerly. “Noted.”

And just for security, you place a pillow between the both of you.

It’s only when he’s lying down next to you, breathing evened out, that you peek open one eye. “Go to sleep.”

“Yeah, I will soon,” he promises, turning to face you. In the darkness of the room, you can barely make out his features, but you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Something about it feels strangely sweet, enough for your cheeks to redden slightly as you turn resolutely away from him, staring hard at the wall of your cabinet. “Night.”

Two months into your lease with Mark, the both of you had created your informal agreement, otherwise labelled as ‘Roommate Code of Honour’ on Mark’s Notes app.

“Code of honour? What are you, a boy scout?”

“I was, actually. First-class,” Mark says without hesitation, and you almost choke on the mouthful of chocolate cake that you have.

“Makes sense.” He seemed exactly like the kind of person who would be a boy scout.

“Anyways, this is just for us to put down stuff that we think is important. Like, I know that we’re supposed to separate the blacks and whites, but-”

“But-”

“What about coloured clothing?” he asks, and you gape at him. “Mark, have you been washing all the coloured clothes together?”

“Maybe…” he trails off, gaze leaving yours and anxiously taking a sip of the drink.

“Okay, this is a good idea. Give me your phone,” you say as you stretch out your hand, but Mark pulls his phone back from you.

“This is meant to be a collaborative process, Y/N.”

“It wasn’t collaborative the moment you turned all my white shirts grey.”

Mark winces at that. “Fair point. But we still need to be equal on this.”

“Fine,” you relent.

And over an hour, seated on the second floor of your favourite cafe, you and Mark pick the ten most important things that you want to keep, the others either compromised or decided as simply too insignificant.

#1: money (mark covers utilities, y/n handles groceries and household items)

#2: always put the toilet seat back down (and clean your hair off the sink after shaving)

“You leave hair all over the place too!” Mark protests, and you roll your eyes.

#2: always put the toilet seat back down (and clean your hair off everywhere)

#3: laundry and cleaning the house will be alternated each week

#4: two days’ advance notice before having anyone over (not required for hyuck, yeji, jaemin or karina)

“Does this include hookups?” you ask, and Mark blushes at that question. “Yeah, I guess.”

“No hookups on nights where the other person has to wake up early the next day,” you add, and he nods. “Sure.”

Most of them are trivial, but important - and despite all your teasing, you’re grateful for someone like Mark, who’s willing to be a good roommate.

Until you reach the last one, which makes you smile.

#10: movie nights are every friday at 10pm

Mark had argued something about ‘roommate bonding’, or the importance of relationship-building- you weren’t quite sure what exactly, but the idea had sounded good to you.

Because you’d never been one for university parties, preferring to stay in unless your presence was absolutely required, but the idea of unwinding with your close friend at the end of the week was a welcome form of socialization.

“Do we pick the movie every week?” you ask, and he nods. “We can make a list too.”

“Okay.” You slide the phone back over to him, finishing the last of your coffee. “I think this looks good.”

“Me too,” Mark says, satisfaction tugging at his lips, and his eyes are bright as he looks at you.

The atmosphere feels strangely light and hopeful - as if it’s just the very start of something.

And you’re right - because throughout sophomore and junior year, Mark becomes the one most constant thing in your life. The both of you have changed slightly in your own ways, but the movie nights are still the one thing you look forward to at the end of the week, where your legs are thrown over his lap and whatever takeout you’ve gotten for dinner spread out over the coffee table.

Today is another one of those days, and you wonder how both you and Mark haven’t run out of movies to watch yet - he said something about Avatar today, you think, having sent you a text earlier of the poster.

When you kick off your shoes in the doorway, Mark’s already on the couch, absentmindedly nibbling at the popcorn.

“Starting without me?” you ask, and he shakes his head, handing you your own bowl.

It was another thing that the both of you had agreed on - after all, you liked your popcorn sweet and caramel-flavoured, and while you couldn’t understand how someone liked salty popcorn, well - there was Mark.

Which meant two separate bowls chock-full of the snack, enough to make the both of you happy.

“Mark,” you start, and the man hums in acknowledgement. “You know we have a Disney Plus subscription, right? And Netflix too?”

“Yeah, but the movie just came out like, five days ago. This is pirated.”

“We can just wait for it to be uploaded, then.”

“But I really want to watch it,” he half-pleads and half-whines. “Besides, Hyuck went, and he’ll definitely spoil it.”

You suppose he’s right, but as you lean back, crossing your legs on the couch, you frown. “We’re going to get porn pop-ups every thirty minutes.”

He coughs awkwardly at that, making you grin slightly. It’s strange how shy he gets, considering you’d expect Mark to at least have some experience with girls - or at least not act like the topic of sex is enough to make him embarrassed.

However, he’s still fiddling with the laptop, crouched next to the console, when you poke his side with your foot.

You have a crazy idea. A good one, but crazy nonetheless.

“What if we went to the cinema right now?” you ask, and he blinks at you, stunned.

“Right now? It’s like, one hour to midnight.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure they have showings.” You whip out your phone for emphasis, quickly going to the website and letting out a hum of satisfaction when you find it.

“Thirty minutes. We can make it.”

Mark looks at you hesitantly - always having been the less spontaneous one of the both of you. But it’s a Friday, after all, and it’s good, harmless fun.

And you know he really wants to watch the movie, if the way he’s on freemovies123.com and patiently waiting for each risqué ad to disappear is any indication.

“I’ll pay for tickets,” you offer, smiling knowingly when he lights up a little - it’s characteristic of any college student to perk up at the mention of anything free, after all, and you know he’s slowly shifting to a ‘yes’.

It’s barely a few seconds before he shuts his laptop, meeting your gaze. “We should get changed. It’s cold out today.”

There’s one good thing about having a roommate with a driving license - that it’s not you.

Because while Mark worries about traffic lights and less-than-friendly taxi drivers, you’re staring out the window absentmindedly, enjoying Bruno Major filtering out the speakers.

It had been one thing he wanted - a good sound system, just so the both of you could enjoy your playlists on the road.

Thankfully, the timing means that there’s barely anyone else around as Mark goes down the highway, humming softly to the music.

“I like late-night drives with you,” you chirp, gaze fixed on Mark’s expression as he smiles, face fading in and out of the golden light of the street lamps.

“Any particular reason?”

“You’re a good driver,” you start, and he turns towards you briefly, narrowing his eyes. “You make me sound like an Uber hire.”

“Um-” you lick your lips. “You have good music?” you try, and your best friend lets out a laugh that sounds more like a scoff, shaking his head. “You’re hopeless,” he says, and you immediately lean closer, shaking your head.

“It’s not just that! When you drive, I-” you hesitate, trying to find the exact words. “I feel really safe. I don’t really feel that way with anyone else on the road.”

Mark doesn’t respond for a few moments, but from the way his hands tighten on the wheel, you know he heard every word clearly.

After a while, he finally speaks.

“Is that why you get me to drive you everywhere?” he asks, and you nod slowly, until you see the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement, earning him a punch on the shoulder from you.

“Don’t laugh. I’m serious. Car accidents can do a lot to a person, you know.”

It’s only then that Mark straightens. “Car accident?”

“Yeah,” you hum, fiddling with the volume of the music to turn it down. “Got into one when I was a kid.”

“How bad?”

“Not that bad. I was in the backseat, so there were only a few scrapes. The other car got it worse, honestly.”

You’ve never told anyone else about this, simply because it’s never quite come up. But when you spend so much time with someone like Mark, small snippets of your life come up eventually - like how you know he sprained his ankle once playing soccer, or that he failed art in elementary school but got perfect grades for music.

And when the feeling of his hand settles warmly over yours, you’re yanked out of your thoughts, blankly staring at his fingers winding themselves between your thumb and your index.

It causes heat to flood through you, even though you’re aware the action is meant to be soothing.

When you hear his next words, however, it’s enough to make your heart soften to a dangerous degree - of such unspeakable fondness that only Mark has been able to elicit to some extent.

“I’ll drive you everywhere from now on, okay? Promise,” he smiles softly as he says it, tugging your pinky towards his own before you can even respond to seal the agreement.

Even when he was a kid, Mark took easily to leadership.

He remembers standing on the podium on his first day on the job as student president, socks cuffed at the perfect length past his ankles, as he delivered his first stuttered-out address to hundreds of middle-schoolers no older than him.

It got easier after that, as he fell into the role more comfortably.

After that, it was chairperson of his high-school music club, helping to compose different pieces for the summer and winter festivals.

Now, in university, he supposes there aren’t really things like student council presidents anymore - everyone is interested in their own lives, and Mark’s not entirely sure he enjoys the entire process of putting himself out there to be judged.

It’s always been the people who made him want to do what he did, and Mark supposes that now his attention is turned to his friends. Reigning in Donghyuck’s more mischievous and unrestrained impulses, preventing Jisung from making the same naive decisions he did at twenty, or getting Jaemin to leave the house to meet his friends and not give in to his natural tendency of isolation - it’s something that he does gladly. Mark would like to think that he knows his friends well, and being the oldest makes him the best-suited to take on the responsibility.

Still, there are times when he likes letting go, not thinking and worrying so hard - most of the time it’s being alone with just his guitar. In those few hours, his brain seems to go perfectly quiet.

Other times, it’s you pulling him into a cinema at midnight, two movie tickets and a brand-new box of popcorn hugged in your arm.

When you halt your footsteps, Mark doesn’t even realise until you’re standing in front of him. If he just angled his face down slightly, the tips of your noses would brush.

“Didn’t you say you really wanted to watch this?” you ask, lashes fluttering, and Mark nods. “Yeah.”

“Then why do you look so sad?” You’re frowning at him, and he has the temptation to smooth out the line in your forehead with his thumb.

“I’m really happy, actually,” he murmurs, and he means it. There’s something about this entire thing that makes him feel more peaceful than he has in a long time. “I was just thinking.”

Thinking about you, to say the least. He didn’t know he could be so comfortable with a person, that spending time felt as easy as breathing.

Thankfully, you don’t question his cryptic words further, only tightening your hold on the tickets. “Let’s walk quicker then. You always complain when we miss the beginning of movies.”

You say it with the easy familiarity of someone who knows him well, and Mark laughs softly. “That’s because you always take too long to get ready.”

“I don’t!”

“You once spent one hour trying to curl your hair, and then decided to leave it straight.”

“That was for your cousin’s wedding. My hair needed to look decent. Besides, I’m the only plus one you have. Who would you ask? Hyuck?”

“Maybe. I’m sure he’d look good in a wig.”

“But your family loves me,” you say smugly, and Mark can’t give a response against that, because you’re right. You’re practically adored by everyone, from his grandparents to even his youngest niece.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he murmurs, but you only grin. “Can’t help it.”

Eventually, you finally reach the doors of the cinema hall, and Mark pushes the door open, a cold gust of air-conditioning hitting the both of you directly as you make your way down to the seats.

When you shiver, he looks at you disapprovingly. “I thought I told you to wear something warm.”

“A long-sleeved shirt is warm,” you protest, and he huffs, but shrugs off his denim jacket anyways.

“Take it. If you get a flu, I have to take care of you.”

“Thank you,” you say sweetly, quickly wearing it on. “Besides, you owe me one for that time you got stomach flu.”

Mark shivers at the very mention of it. Almost six months ago, and yet he still remembers barely being able to get out of bed. That week, you had come home immediately each time your lectures ended, searching up different websites for recipes that wouldn't upset his stomach. Porridge, soups, stews - Mark was pretty sure you had cycled through hundreds of different ingredients, and blew a complete hole in your allowance deliberately only buying organic, but you resolutely refused to tell him about it until he found you eating instant ramen the next month.

It was equal parts frustrating and endearing - the way you wouldn’t tell anyone about your problems, until you were pestered endlessly. Not so different from him, he supposed, though you took it to an even greater degree.

“Mark, I can hear you thinking. Stop and watch the movie,” you chide, grabbing his upturned palm and placing a handful of popcorn on it.

He turns to see you, profile lit against the bright lights of the screen, as you laugh at some advertisement being shown, eyes bright despite the late hour, and Mark thinks this might become one of his favourite memories with you.

And it does, even when you fall asleep in the car four hours later and he has to carry you up, your arms slung around his neck.

Mark Lee is showering when he hears a scream.

It’s shrill enough to make him turn off the water, the steam clearing until he sees his own reflection in the glass.

“Y/N? You good?” He asks it loud enough for you to hear, but there isn’t a response.

You’re not a jumpy person, and while you would probably be alright if he just continued his shower, a what if of worry has Mark wrapping a towel around his waist and opening the door.

However, you’re nowhere to be seen in the hallway, and Mark moves to the living room, seeing you backfacing him, a spoon still in your hands and your posture unnaturally defensive.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, and you turn, an expression of abject horror etched on your features.

“There’s a cockroach somewhere. I saw it on the floor, and it’s gone now,” you say in a rush, and Mark laughs.

“Don’t laugh! This is serious,” you say to him, and your roommate only shakes his head. He’s aware of your fear of bugs, though, which is why he takes the spoon from your hands and steers you towards the hallway.

“If you’re that scared, go to your room. I’ll catch it later.”

You nod in agreement. “You still have shampoo in your hair, by the way,” you point out, and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, because someone screamed so loud that I thought there was a murderer in our apartment.”

“I think I would have a better chance of surviving anyways,” you bite back, and Mark glances doubtfully at the spoon in your hand, and then back at you.

“Sure, Y/N.”

You wave him off. “Enjoy your shower.”

However, right as Mark places his hand on the door handle, there’s another shriek. He spots the cockroach first, scuttling across the floor, before he sees you barrelling towards him.

“Oh my god!” you shout as you run towards Mark, and his arms reflexively open as you hug him tightly in fear - not entirely registering the fact that he is still very much half-naked.

You’re gripping onto him tightly, face buried into the crook of his neck, and it’s a few seconds before Mark realizes the proximity of your position, every inch of your body warm against his bare skin.

It’s enough to make the tips of his ears flush scarlet, and Mark can’t hear anything other than the aggressive beating of his heart.

“Um, Y/N-” he makes an attempt to start, patting you on the shoulder gently. “Let me go.”

You seem to realise it at the same time he does, quickly stepping back, eyes wide. “Shit, sorry.”

Mark lets out a laugh, even though it comes out choked. “It’s okay. Just- I’ll shower and come right back out, okay?”

“Yeah. That’s a good idea,” you stutter out, all thoughts of the insect forgotten as you backtrack hastily into your room, quickly shutting the door behind you.

Mark stares blankly at the oak wood of your bedroom door, before blinking to clear his head. “Jesus,” he mutters, wondering what the hell just happened.

His body feels warm all over, almost like he’s having a fever, and it’s like he can still feel the sensation of your palms flat against his lower back, your breath tickling the space between his neck and shoulder.

And when he sees his reflection in the mirror, there are two spots of bright red on his cheeks.

Everything returns to normal after that.

Well, almost.

Other than the fact that Mark can’t seem to stop thinking about you.

It’s bad enough that as his roommate and best friend, you already take up a decently large space of his brain - whether it’s worrying about when you’ll get home once it’s past midnight, or messaging you to ask if you want takeout.

But something about this is a hundred times worse.

Because just the sight of you is enough to have blood rushing to his face, his head darting down to avoid your gaze.

And Mark feels stupid. For God’s sake, he’s not some teenage boy - he’s already twenty-three, and yet he’s acting like a twelve-year-old who just held hands with a girl for the first time.

He’s shared a bed with you. He’s watched you cry after you failed your first exam, tears and snot balled up into countless tissues and filling up the little trashbin in your room. At some point, he had helped to clean up your vomit when you got a bad case of food poisoning.

To be fair, that was because the pancakes he made for breakfast were only half-cooked, so it was sort of his responsibility.

But the fact remains that Mark’s done hundreds of things with you, and spent countless hours by your side - all of which have allowed him to function normally without feeling like his heart is about to combust.

But now, he can’t even sit next to you without his words turning into stuttering chunks of speech.

It doesn’t help that you’re also naturally affectionate, a habit that you picked up from Donghyuck, of all people, and each time you slide your arm into his or wrap a hand around his waist is enough to have his brain short-circuit.

Deep down, Mark has an inkling why he’s like this.

He just really hopes it isn’t true.

It’s not something he’s told anyone, not Chenle, not Renjun, not even Hyuck, who practically knows all of Mark’s deepest, darkest secrets.

That for a minuscule, short duration of three months, Mark had a crush on you. The pretty girl who he collided directly into on the very first day.

There were times when he wondered if the coffee trips could be labelled dates, or if it was a figment of his hyperactive imagination and racing heart. And as the both of you got closer, Mark always teetered between the temptation of trying to ask you out and the fear that he still didn’t know you that well.

Until the both of you got too close as friends, and it was more comfortable to simply stay within the boundaries of friendship. And eventually, Mark put it behind him, seeing those three initial months as nothing more but a simple infatuation that preceded his friendship with you.

And it wasn’t like you had expressed a lot of interest in him either, occasionally complaining to Mark about dates you went on or the newest eye candy that you had seen on campus.

So he let it go, and Mark thought he could be perfectly happy like this.

Until last week, when he was returned to freshman year.

Since then, Mark has been avoiding you with the excuse of coursework, partly for the own good of his heart and also because he doesn’t want to throw you off with his sudden, odd behaviour.

But you know him a little too well, which means that when Friday comes, you’re banging on his bedroom door.

“Mark Lee, I know you’re done with your coursework. Let me in,” you demand, and the man gulps nervously, wishing that he’d bought those noise-cancelling headphones so he could at least use them as an excuse.

He sidles towards the door reluctantly, feet dragging even as little pinpricks of excitement jab at his heart - a sensation he’s quickly come to associate with you.

“Hey. Um, you need anything?” he asks, voice tight with nervousness.

“I need to know why my best friend’s avoiding me like the plague,” you say without hesitating, slipping in through the small space between his body and the door before he can kick you out.

“i’m not avoiding you. I’m just really busy,” Mark lies. “Like, with school and stuff.”

God, it sounds bad even to his ears.

“I hope you know I didn’t believe that for a second,” you say, walking to his desk and looking directly at his completely-shut laptop.

“I-” Mark’s throat feels dry as you abruptly turn towards him, cutting across the room and facing him directly, hands squared on your hips as you tilt your head.

“Did you commit a crime? I know how to hide a body, you know.”

“…No?”

“Forgot to pay rent? Left the stove on? Or-”

“It’s none of that!” He says, hands instinctively reaching for your shoulders to halt you from listing any other potential transgressions he might have made.

And when you meet his eyes again, you look properly frustrated, before you seem to sink slightly, voice turning a little softer.

“Did I do something…wrong? You can tell me, you know.” You blink up at him slowly, and Mark’s heart feels bittersweet as he sees the slight worry in your gaze.

“No. Of course not.” Guilt rises in his stomach - of course his standoffish behaviour would make you think the worst. ‘’It’s none of that.”

Mark wishes that he could kick his feelings to the side and shove them far down, if only to make the doubt in your features go away. Considering that it’s you he has these feelings for, however, makes the task seem near impossible, but Mark thinks it doesn’t hurt to try.

So he smiles, bright enough to make you relax a little. “It’s really just school. I realised I actually need to do well to graduate, and I didn’t want my stress to get to you.”

At his words, your eyes glaze over with a familiar, warm empathy, and Mark tries not to let his relief become too palpable. “I get it. But, Mark-”

“Hm?”

“You can come to me for these sorts of things, you know? When you’re stressed. I want to be that person for you.”

What you’re saying is simple- expected, even, considering the nature of your relationship with him, but it still knocks the breath out of Mark.

He’s loved by you. That much is clear, even if it’s not exactly in the way he so desperately wishes to be loved by you. But even this is enough.

“Okay. Yeah, I will,” he promises, realising that he doesn’t hate the bittersweet feeling in his heart that is already so closely associated with you - not when it’s constantly soothed by the quiet happiness of having you by his side.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You loop your arm in his, pulling him out of the room. “Since that’s resolved, no more hiding in your room.”

“But-”

“No buts. We study here from now on. you’re not the only one with exams, you know,” you say as you bring your books and laptop out, scattering them across the dining table.

Mark can tell when you’ve set your mind on something, and so he doesn’t resist, placing his own things opposite you and welcoming it when you smile in approval.

For a while, he sits there blankly - he wasn’t even studying in the first place, after all, and he’s already well-prepared for his technical exam next week, but he’s pulled out of his thoughts when you call his name expectantly.

You’ve already made yourself comfortable by the window, your headphones resting snugly around your ears as you tilt your head at him, eyes bright.

You look pretty, as always.

But Mark’s almost-adoring gaze is left unnoticed by you as you frown at him. Study, you mouth, picking up your textbook and pointing to it for emphasis in a way that makes a laugh bubble out his chest.

It’s cute. You’re cute.

If he doesn’t do as you say, however, Mark’s cover will genuinely be busted, and so the man genuinely tries to immerse himself in revision for his readings as best as he can.

And if he occasionally sneaks glances just to admire you in the golden glow of dusk that spills through the window - well, it didn’t happen if you didn’t catch him, did it?

You’re standing in the kitchen when you hear Mark’s bedroom door open, and a soft yawn from the hallway.

“Morning. I made toast, and Chenle gave us a new bottle of jam the other day,” you say, pushing a plate across the counter.

“Thanks,” he says, voice still rough from sleep and eyes only half-open as he munches absentmindedly at the first piece of bread he picks up.

He’s always the sleepiest on Thursday mornings, mainly because the lectures are first thing in the morning and on the furthest side of the campus. And considering how much of a night owl Mark is, waking up anytime before ten is practically punishment for him.

Meanwhile, you’re perfectly chirpy, already having gotten your first coffee of the day down and your usual omelette slowly cooking away in the pan.

“You know, Donghyuck suggested doing a trip during winter break,” you say, and Mark hums in agreement, thinking it over. “To where?”

“Out of the city. Maybe to the beach. I think it would be fun.”

“Are you going to plan it, then?” he asks, and you nod excitedly. You’ve always had a penchant for travelling, and maybe it’s because of your course in early education - you’re already used to organizing different programmes.

“I was thinking we would do a barbecue, and then maybe just some games and karaoke. Though I’m sure some of the guys want to go biking, and I think Yeji mentioned doing a pottery class or checking out local markets.” You ramble out all your ideas in a rush, but Mark only nods at your every word.

“I’m sure we can figure something out.”

“We just need to find a house big enough for all twelve of us- ouch!” Your sentence is cut off by a sharp exclamation of pain as you pull your hand back, an unsightly red patch already forming on the area between your index and thumb.

You hadn’t even realised you had gotten that close to the stove when you turned around to speak to Mark. It’s not your first time getting burned - you had accidentally brushed your arm against the top of your oven when you were sixteen, but the pain is enough to make you wince in alarm.

Still, it’s tolerable as you rush to the sink and turn on the cold water, Mark materializing by your side within seconds.

“You okay?” he asks, now fully-awake as he grabs your wrist, turning it over gently to inspect the injury.

“Yeah.” You shake your head. “Small mistake. I’ll manage it.”

You turn off the tap, planning to get some ice, but Mark’s faster than you. “Take this. I’ll get the antiseptic cream.”

“I can handle it. You should get ready for class,” you urge, but he shakes his head, already disappearing down the hallway.

When he reappears, the small white tube is in his hands, and Mark motions for you to place your hand in his. “This might hurt a little,” he murmurs, blinking up at you through his lashes, and you nod.

“Wouldn’t have thought.”

You don’t get to make another wisecrack, however, the moment his thumb brushes over the wound. Mark’s gentle, dabbing at it as softly as possible, but your breathing still tightens.

Eventually, the sting gets a little more bearable, and you watch as the reddish patch fades to a less angry tone. “Done,” Mark says, quickly smoothing a plaster over it. “Don’t let it get near water, and don’t let it get dirty.”

“Got it, dad.” He rolls his eyes at that and you nudge his shoulder. “You really should go for class now.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” he asks, eyes wide, and the concern that’s evident in Mark’s eyes makes your heart flutter warmly. “It’s just a burn, Mark. The next time I break my leg, I’ll make you carry me around for a month.”

He frowns. “Don’t say that. I don’t want you to break a leg.”

“I’ll be careful, I promise. Look, if you’re that worried-” you stretch your hand out to him, palm facing the ceiling as you grin. “-you can kiss it better.”

The request is a teasing one, one that you expect to turn Mark the colour of a tomato - after all, he’s made shy easily, and always embarrassed at things like this.

Yet, what you don’t expect is the immediate feeling of the boy’s lips against your skin, no hesitation on his part as he places the gentlest of kisses at the corner between your thumb and your index.

You freeze. There’s no way Mark just did that.

There’s no way the same person who would shove you away when you attempted to place a kiss on his cheek, nervously sputtering, or the one who jerked away the first time you tried to hug him, is now smiling up at you in a way that could be seen as almost cocky, eyes blinking innocently up at you.

“Better?” he asks lowly, placing another kiss for emphasis in a way that makes your heart go haywire.

Your throat feels dry when you make an attempt to reply to him. “Yeah. All better,” you force out, quickly retracting your hand and shoving it into the pocket of your sweatpants. Far away from boys who think it’s a good idea to kiss it and make your mind go blank.

“Well, I’m going, then,” he says, now finally having the familiar lopsided grin that you’re used to - despite that, however, your heart lurches with fondness as you watch him grab his bag and hoodie before waving at you.

“Bye,” you exhale out, hands unconsciously finding the cool marble of the countertop in a quest for stability, until the door finally shuts.

You’re faced with an empty hallway, finally, as you attempt to process the events of the past fifteen minutes, the pain of the burn now an afterthought.

What the fuck just happened?

Mark thinks he might be going insane.

Completely, veritably insane.

Kissing your hand was an impulse decision - mainly because he wanted to get back at you for making those flirtatious remarks all the damn time without any idea of how they messed with his head.

But part of it was also because you had asked so sweetly, and Mark found himself quite incapable of refusing you. And the two spots of pink that had dusted your cheeks after were worth it.

However, it seems that he’s suffering much more than you are - what with the events of the past week. It’s as if he can’t help but notice the smallest, most insignificant things about you, that are enough to make him fall a little deeper, a little further down to where it’s harder to get out.

Like how you hum to yourself when you water the plants on the windowsill, and it’s always that one song - the one that your dad played for you as a kid, and which you added into Mark’s playlist without him knowing. Or how Mark always leaves his guitar all over the house, but you make sure to return it to its usual spot next to his bed.

Even worse, you’re always leaning your head on his shoulder, or reaching out to fiddle with the strings of his hoodie. It feels good being close to you - Mark loves it, in fact, but it also makes him terribly nervous in a way that makes him stiffen awkwardly whenever you brush a little too close to him.

Now, however, Mark realises he might be the one on the losing end as he sits in his Structural Analysis lecture and wonders what it would be like to actually kiss you.

His pen is spinning in his hands - he hasn’t written down a single thing in the past thirty minutes, and Mr Lee’s already sending him suspicious glances from across the room, but Mark has mostly been a model student for the past two years, which is why he supposes his lecturer bites his tongue.

Still, he can’t keep going like this. Not when he feels like his heart is constantly about to burst out of his chest, and he has to physically stop himself from spinning you by the waist and planting his lips firmly on yours.

Of course, he’d never do that unless you gave any indication that you wanted it, but it’s hard. It’s hard to have you so close and yet completely out of Mark’s reach.

As a child, he would stand at the seashore, feet half-buried in the sand as he looked out to the glittering blue expanse of sea, and the horizon that lay beyond. There was always something about the warm orange hues and pink streaks that took his breath away, so beautiful that he wanted to swim towards it endlessly.

You’re his horizon now, a thousand gorgeous sunsets contained in a single person and enough to make Mark feel like he’s living and dying all at once.

The next week, you’re sitting on the couch scrolling on your phone when Mark’s footsteps alert you to his presence.

Right as you lift your head to see him, however, you frown. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like…you’re going to work out. Or something,” you reply, giving him a once-over. Joggers, a dry-fit shirt and track shoes, complete with a water bottle in his hands - something’s definitely up.

“That’s because I am,” he answers, an amused tilt of his lips evident as he takes in the surprise on your face.

“No way. I tried getting you to do that fitness program in freshman year, and you said you’d rather die than exercise.”

“That was because I can’t do yoga for shit. I’m going to the gym with Jeno today.”

At the mention of the other boy, you nod, slowly processing the information. It makes sense that Jeno would drag him to the gym, considering the boy has long made a habit of it with Jaemin. But still, the fact that Mark agreed makes you narrow your eyes.

“Why the sudden interest, though?” you ask, turning over to rest your head on the couch and stretch out your legs.

Mark only shrugs, slinging his towel over his shoulder. “Finally found the time. Besides, seniors get free access. If you didn’t notice, I’ve been going with Jeno since the start of the year.”

It’s currently June, which means six months. Though it’s likely that you probably couldn’t make the distinction between when he was going to the gym or lessons, because Mark perpetually lived in sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Fair enough. Have fun,” you call, tugging a pillow to hug to your body as you find a new social media site to scroll through.

However, you find your eyes drifting to Mark as he fills his bottle at the sink, carefully scrutinising your best friend for any evident changes.

You suppose his shoulders have broadened considerably since freshman year, jawline a little more defined than the round-cheeked boy you first met. Nothing out of the ordinary - plenty of the same changes had happened to the other boys, and it wasn’t as if you hadn’t made changes to your own appearance over the many years.

However, Mark’s usually dressed in the baggiest of sweaters and hoodies, only changing into a fitted shirt today due to the warm summer weather, and your cheeks redden when you find your eyes drifting to the way the muscles in his back stretch when he reaches for something on the upper shelf, a faint line appearing on his forearms as he unscrews the cap and adds his vitamins inside.

He looks good. Better than he should. You don’t even realize you’re shamelessly ogling your best friend until he looks up at you, eyes directly meeting yours in a way that makes you jump.

“Everything okay?” he asks, and you nod slowly, forcing your eyes away from anything but the way his collarbones peek out from beneath his shirt.

This is Mark. Your roommate, who you most definitely shouldn’t stare at in a borderline-creepy way. no matter how attractive he may seem.

Thankfully, you regain your senses quickly enough, darting your head back down until it’s half-veiled by the pillow. “Get a grip, Y/N,” you mutter to yourself.

“Well, I’m gonna go,” Mark calls, and you physically stop yourself from looking up, instead choosing to extend your arm upwards to wave.

“Bye! Go!” you say with no little urgency, sensing Mark’s palpable confusion from your bizarre confusion a few metres away.

Nevertheless, he grabs his things, the door eventually closing shut.

It’s halfway through his last set that Jeno appears above Mark, a bottle of ice-cold water in his hands.

“Thanks,” he says as he sits up from the bench press, quickly taking a large gulp. “What are you doing after this?”

“Giselle asked me to grab dinner with her.”

At his words, Mark grins, nudging Jeno’s knee. “Do the both of you have something going on?”

Jeno only huffs, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “We’re just friends. Don’t overthink it. You and Y/N, on the other hand…”

The mention of your name is enough to make Mark cough awkwardly, gaze darting away. And while Jeno doesn’t say anything, it’s Jaemin who’s perceptive as ever, a teasing smile on his face as he meets Mark’s nervous gaze.

“Out with it. What’s up with the both of you?” he asks curiously.

“Um,” Mark coughs, swiping off the beads of sweat that seem to have mysteriously materialized at his temples. “Nothing.”

It’s as honest of a reply that he can give, because there really isn’t much for Mark to say. While Mark freaks out inside each time you say something, life seems to be going on normally for you.

Jeno hums. “Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

Frustration bubbles up in Mark at those words, though it’s not directed at Jaemin or Jeno, but instead at himself.

“I mean, I like her-”

“I knew it,” Jaemin declares, crossing his arms over his chest. “Took you long enough.”

Mark leans back, chuckling softly. “Just realised it myself a few days ago, honestly.”

It wasn’t as if Mark hadn’t had a crush on anyone before - rather, it was that being with you felt slightly different from the rest. The butterflies aside, there was something else that tugged at the pit of his stomach each time he thought about you. It was akin to the split-second adrenaline he felt on top of rollercoasters, just before it came tumbling straight down.

And he wasn’t sure what to make of that. Mark thought a better word to describe his affection for you was yearning, rather than just a simple like. Like didn’t seem to quite explain how being in your presence never quite tired him out, how you were the one person that Mark didn’t need a social battery for. He was simply so used to you at this point, that having you around felt natural, felt right.

“He’s definitely in love. Look at him,” Jaemin whispers to his dormmate, just out of Mark’s earshot. Jeno’s eyes only crinkle slightly, as he shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter if he won’t do anything about it.”

The first time someone called Donghyuck a himbo was sophomore year.

He had sat next to Shin Ryujin, hungover from the night before, and it took him a full fifteen minutes to realise that he did indeed have an assignment due that day, one which his professor was currently collecting.

Naturally, he did what any desperate student would do - he turned to Ryujin and asked very nicely if he could borrow her work, to which she had only ignored him and turned back to her own laptop.

“It’s a creative assignment. Mrs Park’s not going to scroll through two identical assignments without busting your ass.”

“I could change some of the grammar,” Donghyuck offers helpfully, but the glare that she flashes him makes him shrink back.

“Just ask her for an extension.”

“I’m scared.”

“You’re already known as the campus himbo. What do you have to be scared of?”

“A himbo?” Donghyuck tilts his head. He hasn’t heard anyone describe him as a himbo yet, though he’s received things like idiot, annoying asshole, dumbass motherfu- most of them from Mark, but he doesn’t quite mention that to Shin Ryujin.

“It means you’re pretty to look at, but you’ve got nothing inside your head.”

Donghyuck grins. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks, batting his eyelashes for dramatic effect, and Ryujin rolls her eyes. “Even if you were pretty, your personality ruins it.”

“Hey!”

“I’m right, Donghyuck. You’re a daily reminder to me why I’m better off liking women,” she shoots, and he feels genuinely wounded at that.

“You just like women because you think Yeji’s pretty-” Donghyuck’s voice is muffled by Ryujin’s hand over his mouth, her gaze wide with alarm.

“She’s right there, Donghyuck. Mouth shut, or I’ll kill you,” she whispers harshly, eyes darting nervously to the girl she’s had a not-so-secret crush on for the longest time, before turning back to Donghyuck, who nods obediently.

“You should just tell her,” he advises, and Ryujin purses her lips, before shaking her head. “No. For one, I’m not sure if she likes women at all, and two - even if she did, I might not be her type.”

“Well, you can try.”

“And get rejected? No thanks,” she replies, closing the tabs on her laptop. “Besides, you shouldn’t been giving me advice. You would barely know if someone liked you back.”

Donghyuck supposes Ryujin was right then - he’s quite oblivious to cues, and God knows the number of girls that have confessed to him while he blinked at them cluelessly. It’s not his fault that he’s on the affectionate side, and Donghyuck is affectionate with everyone.

But now, this is different. This doesn’t involve him, and Donghyuck would like to think that he’s at least quite perceptive to a shift in two of his closest friends.

It doesn’t take him long to figure out why exactly Mark seems so skittish in your presence, or why you seem so tightly wound-up, like a spring about to snap.

The both of you have the largest, most embarrassing crushes on each other, and are somehow simultaneously oblivious to it.

And so, like every other normal, rational person, Donghyuck invites everyone except you and Mark to lunch to discuss his findings.

“What the fuck?” Renjun’s the first one to say something, staring at Donghyuck as if he’s grown a second head.

“Look, just trust me on this-”

“Are you sure about this?” Jaemin asks, taking a large sip of his drink, and Donghyuck nods earnestly, a serious expression on his face. “A hundred percent.”

“To be fair to him, we did all think they were going to date in the first year. I guess it’s finally happening.”

“Men and women can have platonic relationships, you know. Just because you have never enjoyed female friendship in your life doesn’t mean it’s impossible,” Ryujin points out to Jeno, who rolls his eyes.

“You thought they were dating too, Shin.”

“Fine,” she acquiesces, finally turning to Donghyuck and staring him down in a way that makes the male have to consciously bite back a shiver. “What do you plan to do about it?”

“That’s why I called you guys here.”

“You want us to help you figure out how to get your two best friends together?”

“They’re your friends too!”

“I say we lock them in a room until they kiss,” Chenle says, and like clockwork, Jisung turns to him, a look of horror on his face. “You can’t do that to people!”

But Chenle’s not looking at his best friend - no, he’s looking at Donghyuck, a silent challenge in his gaze.

It’s only then that Donghyuck sits up, posture changing enough to draw the eyes of everyone at the table - Karina, Yeji, Ryujin, Jeno, Chenle, Jisung, Jaemin and Renjun.

“You know what?” he says, a mischievous smile curling at the corner of his lips. “I don’t think that’s a bad idea.”

You’re halfway through your work when you hear a few rapid knocks at the door.

“Coming!” you shout, frowning - Mark’s out late tonight.

Until you look through the peephole, and you’re greeted by the sight of Jaemin’s face. “Oh, hey,” you say as you open the door. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m not sure, honestly. I brought them, though.” He points his arm, and you turn, eyes widening.

“He helped with directions,” Donghyuck explains, already shrugging off his shoes and letting himself into your apartment.

“What- why’s everyone here today?” You naturally move to the side as all eight of them slowly amble in, completely bewildered.

“Impromptu party. Jeno’s boss gave him some free pizza delivery vouchers,” Yeji explains, smiling sweetly at you, and despite the suddenness of it, you can’t quite say no - you do miss having them around, and you can probably catch up on your work over the weekend.

“Okay. Mark won’t be back till nine, though.” At your words, there seems to be a general sense of amusement rising from everyone else, which is only enough to confuse you further.

However, you’re grateful for their appearance. You don’t think you could last another movie night with Mark without doing something extremely, extremely stupid.

At eight, Mark reaches his front door, only for it to be opened before he can even reach for his keys.

And instead of you, there’s Jisung, who only waves. “Hi, hyung.”

“What are you doing here?” Mark asks, until he hears the sound of commotion inside - there’s music playing, and Donghyuck trying to explain something loudly before your laughter cuts through.

“Jeno bought all of us pizza. You should be hungry,” Jisung says, smiling, and Mark only follows the younger boy inside, greeted by the sight of everyone else scattered across the living room floor.

“Mark!” Jaemin shouts excitedly, and he realises the boy is already half-drunk as he motions to the multiple pizza boxes. “Take as much as you want. Can’t finish.”

And as Mark grabs the pizza and makes his way over to where you’re seated by the couch, you smile up at him in a way that makes it impossible for him to grin back. “You’re here,” you say softly, cheeks already slightly reddened by the alcohol.

He laughs slightly. “Are you drunk already?”

You shake your head. “I only drank a little.” You pinch your fingers together for emphasis.

“Okay. Go easy on it,” he says, and you pout slightly. “Got it.”

“Since Mark’s here already, we should all play a game,” Chenle suggests, and Mark looks up, eyes widening when he sees everyone nod. “Suddenly?”

“How about truth or dare?” Ryujin asks.

“No, that’s too boring. Wait, Mark, come here,” Donghyuck says from the opposite side of the room, pushing Jisung slightly to make space for him in the middle, but Mark shakes his head.

“I’m okay here.” Besides, he wants to make sure you don’t drink as much.

“Just come here. Yeji has something she needs to tell Y/N.” At that, Mark turns to the black-haired girl, a suspicious glance in his eyes.

“Oh yeah, totally,” she says, grinning back, and motions for Mark to move. “Girls only, Mark. I know you’re Y/N’s best friend, but some exceptions can’t be made.”

Everyone’s waiting, which means Mark eventually rises from where he’s standing. “Okay. Make sure she doesn’t drink too much, okay?” he asks, and she nods.

When Mark’s finally cross-legged on the floor, Donghyuck clasps his hands together, a grin on his face. “Let’s do seven minutes in heaven. Jeno, spin that bottle.”

Mark turns to his best friend, nudging him. “What are we, in high school?”

“We’re not, which is why I wanna play this. Also, everyone here at least knows each other. so it’s more fun.”

There’s silence in the room as the soju bottle spins in slow rounds, before it finally drifts to a stop - one that has Donghyuck giggling and Ryujin’s cheeks reddening.

“Ryujin and Yeji. First room on the right, now,” he instructs, and the two girls rise, disappearing down the hallway and already lost in their own conversation.

“Next one. I wanna spin this,” Chenle says, exchanging an odd, knowing sort of look with Hyuck, who only motions for him to go ahead.

Mark’s honestly only half-focused on the game, more worried about he’s going to clean up later and whether any of them will be staying over. Eventually, however, his gaze drifts to the floor, watching as the bottle comes to a perfect stop.

Facing you directly.

Yeji’s gone and you’re the only one sitting on the right side of the couch, which makes you the obvious choice.

The other side is a little more ambiguous, however. It’s between him and Hyuck, who looks a little too excited. “Well, so who’s going to go with me?” you ask, and everyone else seems to be unsure of what to say.

“I mean, I don’t mind,” Donghyuck says teasingly, winking at you in a way that makes Mark stiffen.

There’s no way Hyuck likes you, right? That all this was just some sort of grand, elaborated scheme to get closer to you-

You fell for her too, idiot, his mind immediately rattles off, and it’s enough for Mark to stand up, immediately clearing his throat. “I’ll go. The empty room left is mine anyways.”

He misses the way his best friend smiles triumphantly at Chenle, immediately moving closer to you as you stand up. “Seven minutes, right?” you ask, and Hyuck nods. “No more, no less.”

Mark’s not sure why he’s strangely nervous as he follows you into the room, considering he’s pretty sure that nothing will happen anyways. After all, the both of you practically live together, and he’s no stranger to spending time alone with you.

Though, in the wake of his new feelings, even simple interactions feel difficult.

And as you lie down on the side of his bed, legs dangling off the edge, Mark regrets his decision just a little. Until you lift your head up.

“Why are you standing there? Come here.” You pat the empty space next to you, and as if pulled by some mysterious force, he gravitates towards you, hesitantly sitting next to your knees and slowly lying down next to you.

“I wonder what Hyuck would say if he found us like this,” you say, and despite himself, Mark laughs. “We would get scolded.”

“He’d probably ask us to do something, at least.”

Mark’s cheeks redden as he wonders what exactly you mean by something, and he’s not sure if your straightforwardness is partly due to the alcohol. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Kiss, probably.”

He sucks in a breath, turning to you. But your profile remains sideways, eyes fixed on the ceiling. And he’s not sure where he finds the words, but Mark’s voice is strained the next time he speaks, tight with desire and fear.

“Do you- do you want to?”

You turn to him, pretty irises deep enough for Mark to willingly, gladly drown in.

God, you’re gorgeous. He’s so painfully in love with you that it almost hurts to breathe, little pinpricks of affection stabbing at what space remaining in his heart that’s still left untaken by you.

“I wouldn’t mind, I think,” you murmur, blinking sleepily at him as you shuffle a little bit closer, until your head’s resting against his chest, and Mark wonders if you can hear his heartbeat going faster than it ever has.

You wouldn’t mind kissing him. It’s not a direct expression of want, but if you’re amenable to the idea, that’s already more than he could ever expect.

You’re so close, and you smell so good, like that vanilla and cinnamon shampoo that you always use, and if he just tilted your head a little higher - he would have everything that he’s dreaming of.

But you’re drunk, and he’s not entirely sober either, which means bad decisions are likely to be made. When Mark kisses you, he wants it to be when both of you are fully awake, so he can remember every single moment of it.

And the feeling of you resting against him, eyes closed and breathing even, isn’t so bad either - it’s sweet, providing him with the knowledge that you feel safe enough to be your most vulnerable around him, because Mark just wants to protect you and love you in all the ways that he can. If you’ll let him.

And that’s how Donghyuck finds him when he cracks open the bedroom door, Mark immediately bringing a finger to his lips to keep his volume down.

“Um, I’ll tell everyone to clean up and leave. You can stay with Y/N,” Hyuck murmurs, and Mark’s grateful for the sensibility that his best friend does have, after all.

It’s about twenty minutes later that he finally hears the front door swing shut, and the house finally falls into some much-needed silence.

“Y/N,” he whispers softly, hoping to wake you up without startling you. “Darling, you’ll be uncomfortable if you sleep like this.”

He’s not sure where the pet name slips out from, but it comes out surprisingly easily. And while Mark would be perfectly happy to stay in this position, it’s likely going to give you a poor neck tomorrow.

Thankfully, you seem to hear him, mumbling something incoherent as you slowly sit up, still drowsy as he leads you to the bed. You find the pillow quickly, and he breathes out a sigh of relief when you seem to sink back into your slumber.

“Good night, Y/N,” he mumbles tenderly, a hand brushing over your forehead.

And when he finally lies down on the other side, blanket thrown over the both of you, Mark wills sleep to find him quickly. There’s too much on his mind tonight.

At some point, however, you shift, turning your body to face him and making his breathing hitch.

You’re always so damn close.

And then you say something again under your breath, soft enough for Mark to have to lean closer until your lips are right by his ear.

“Y/N? Do you need something?” It’s obvious you’re still asleep, maybe stuck in a dream of sorts as you furrow your eyebrows.

When you speak next, however, it’s loud enough for Mark to hear every syllable.

“You don’t want to kiss me,” you breathe out, an expression of distress making its way onto your features. “Why not?” Your lips soften into a pout that makes his heart seize, and Mark’s eyes widen.

Are you talking about him? From earlier?

He’s frozen now, fingers ghosting over your waist as he wonders how to react.

Eventually, Mark allows himself to press a tender kiss to your forehead, smoothing out the slight furrow there as he brushes his thumb over your cheek.

The bed, even the entire room, suddenly feels a little too small, and a little too warm as Mark keeps looking at you, wondering exactly what this means for him, you, and your friendship.

If everything he’s ever wanted is a mistake, and whether you’d make it with him. Because he doesn’t think any mistake should feel this right.

When you wake up the next morning, you can’t exactly distinguish between what was part of your dream, and what was actually a hazy recollection.

And neither is Mark present to confirm your doubts. It’s like he’s disappeared off the face of the earth - well, probably just the campus.

Still, when you see an empty bed, the sheets on the side flat and crinkled, there’s a yearning in your heart that you can’t quite place. You swing your feet over the edge, your head still vaguely throbbing from the alcohol as you try to distinguish reality from your own eager imagination.

You like Mark. That much is easy enough to figure out, if the way you clung to him last night was any indication. You faintly remember him persuading you to go to bed, and tugging a sweater over your shirt.

And then you had turned over - heart racing in your chest as you voluntarily moved closer to him, seeking his warmth and relaxing when he didn’t pull away.

His bed smelled a lot like him, all fresh cotton and fabric softener. A familiar scent that you had grown used to over the years, from stealing his jackets to hugging him whenever he pulled you close, your head nestled into the crook of his shoulder.

You’re conflicted as you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, fingers curling into the material of the sweater as if it’ll make up for the owner’s absence.

Maybe he liked you. Maybe he didn’t. You would get some answers once he came back, at least.

Unfortunately, you’re in the middle of brushing your teeth when you hear the front door unlock, and you suppose the universe has other plans for you as you shuffle out into the living room.

And as if you still needed the reminder, your pulse speeds up at the sight of Mark in his hoodie and black glasses, plates already in his hands as he places them on the table. “Hey, um, I got breakfast. Figured you’d be hungry,” he explains.

You’re just staring at him, lingering in the hallway long enough for Mark to scratch the back of his head awkwardly. “Hey, if you don’t feel like eating-”

“I do.” It comes out panicked as you rush over, taking the cutlery from him and the first pastry you see. “Thanks, Mark.”

“No problem,” he says, still smiling at you as you take your first bite, occasionally meeting his eyes before your gaze darts away again.

God, this is awkward. You haven’t been this awkward with him since- well, ever. Even eighteen-year-old you had no problem making conversation with him, but now you’re completely silent as the both of you share a meal.

You’re in the middle of counting the number of cross-stitches in the tablecloth when he finally speaks.

“How’s your head feeling?”

“It’s okay.”

“Donghyuck and the others left pretty early yesterday.”

“Yeah.”

“They cleaned up, though.”

“That’s good.”

You can almost sense the frustration radiating off Mark at your replies, but you’re not sure what else to say to him.

Or more that you’re scared of what will come out if you do let yourself speak.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, noticeably more serious now, and you gulp.

“Mark.”

“Can we talk about yesterday?” he asks, gently, and you lift your head sharply, fork frozen in midair.

“What- what happened yesterday?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I-” you cut yourself off halfway, cheeks turning scarlet as you duck your head down to look at your own lap.

It’s as much of a guilty admission that he needs, even as you attempt to get yourself out of the situation by standing up and pushing your chair behind you. “I’m done with my breakfast. I’ll go get ready.”

“You’re going out?”

“I told Ryujin that I would meet her for lunch,” you lie, though you wince the moment it leaves your mouth.

For one, it’s ten in the morning, and Ryujin’s probably just as hungover as you.

You barely put your plate down in the sink before you hear Mark get up as well, and you turn your head away, cursing silently under your breath. It’s times like this when you wish your apartment was bigger, that Mark couldn’t be capable of finding you in less than two minutes.

He doesn’t say anything, almost hovering as he clears his plate away too, and places the rest of the pastries in the fridge.

You can’t help but notice that they’re all your favourites, the kind of snacks that you always tell him you crave but never have conveniently at home.

The moment you’re done washing the dishes, however, you quickly dry your hands, making a beeline out of the kitchen area. If you just manage to get to your room, you’ll at least be able to avoid him for a while longer.

And for a few moments, you think that Mark will let you go and leave the events of last night aside for now.

In fact, you almost make it past him and the kitchen island, before he grabs onto your wrist and yanks you back.

“What-” You tilt your head up sharply in shock, freezing when you realize exactly how close the both of you are. The tip of his nose is barely centimetres away from yours, and your lack of balance has you almost leaning fully into him, the weight of your body pressed up against his.

You’re still reeling from it as you blink up at him, finding a way to get your senses back around you, even as your brain fills with empty thoughts about how he looks good up close like this, or how his lashes frame his features perfectly.

It’s a dangerous situation. One that you need to get out of immediately.

“Mark-” you start, his name coming out breathy and stilted, but the boy remains silent, lips set into a firm line as he continues looking at you, or past you, as if he's thinking of something else entirely. “Let me go?”

You move your wrist for emphasis, but in response, his grip only tightens.

“No,” he murmurs, in a way that makes butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“But-”

You’re cut off soon enough when he moves even closer, the distance between the both of you disappearing.

Because instead of releasing your hand, Mark only wraps his other arm around your waist to yank you closer before he plants his lips firmly on yours.

And then he’s kissing you.

Mark Lee, your best friend and roommate of four years, is kissing you in your shared apartment at ten in the morning, and you can’t help but feel like this is how it’s always meant to have been.

And as you feel yourself melting into his hold, that same scent of fresh cotton enveloping you, he pulls away. Kissing shouldn’t feel this good, but with him, you think the seconds could easily elapse into hours.

You’re almost tempted to pull him by the collar back to you, but something in his eyes curbs that impulse of yours.

His hand is still resting on your waist, ghosting over the patch of bare skin between your sweatpants and top in a way that makes you shiver.

“You asked me why I didn’t want to kiss you yesterday,” he breathes out. “Does this make up for it?”

So that wasn’t a dream, at least.

You scramble to find a way to reply, still a little too distracted by the way his lips are the perfect shade of pink, the phantom feeling of them quickly fading from your memory. “I- I think so.”

He smiles at that. “You think?”

“I could do with a refresher.” The sudden confidence that enters your voice is just as surprising to you as it is to Mark himself, but he recovers faster. The hand that was previously around your wrist snakes its way up to your chin, tilting your face upwards. “Yeah?”

You nod, deciding that you’re already too far gone- you might as well get something out of it.

Like the feeling of Mark’s lips against yours when he kisses you again, smiling against you in a way that makes your heart expand in the most delightful way.

When he nips at your bottom lip playfully, you let out a soft giggle, ducking your head away from his as he moves towards your cheek, and then your neck, leaving a trail of feather-soft kisses in his wake.

“That feels nice,” you sigh out, feeling him smirk against where he’s nestled at the juncture of your shoulder and neck. “Just nice?”

“Very nice. Happy now?” You tap his shoulders to get him to raise his head, Mark’s hands instinctively finding your waist.

He hums. “I suppose. What does this make us?”

And as much as he tries to pass it off nonchalantly, you hear the way his voice tapers off into doubt.

That he’s had the same fear as you for a while now, but also the exact same dream.

“Do you like me?” you ask, and Mark swipes his tongue over his lips, chuckling softly. “I thought that much was obvious.”

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing that I like you too.” You fiddle with the drawstrings of his hoodie as Mark’s eyes widen. To his credit, he looks surprised, but it only makes you laugh. “You seriously think I would kiss you if I didn’t like you?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure-” his words halt when you tiptoe to press a kiss on his cheek.

“I like you, Mark Lee. Even if you can’t cook eggs and always mess up my laundry. And I know you’re already my best friend and roommate, but will you be willing to take up another title now?”

“What title?’ he asks, blinking confusedly at you, and you only grin. “My boyfriend,” you whisper into his ear, pulling back to see that familiar shade of red making its way onto his cheeks.

Eventually, he nods. “Yeah. Okay. I can do that.”

But you only frown. “You took so long to reply. I’m starting to think you don’t want it anymore.”

Mark only rolls his eyes, arms tightening their hug around your waist.

“Too bad. There’s no getting rid of me now.”

Funnily enough, the hardest part of being in a relationship with Mark was figuring out how to tell everyone else without being made the subject of their endless teasing for the next foreseeable few months.

Especially Donghyuck. Both you and Mark agreed that the chestnut-haired boy would be the last to find out.

Everything else was the same. The both of you always ate together, Mark often picking you up after lessons with a take-out bag already in his hands.

Except that he was now yours to kiss and hold, which was a new privilege you gladly took advantage of, especially on occasions like this.

“I say we let them find out on their own. It’s worse if we tell them directly, like it’s some sort of big announcement,” you say, fingers absentmindedly carding their way through Mark’s hair as he hugs you close to him. You’re leaning against the couch, legs thrown over his as you rest on his lap sideways.

He only raises a bemused eyebrow. “You don’t think our relationship is a big thing?”

“We both know that’s not what I mean,” you mutter, swatting his shoulder. “I just think they’ve known us as best friends for so long, that it’ll be weird to just suddenly drop this out of nowhere.”

“I get it. We can tell them whenever you want.”

The current position you’re in is more than comfortable, and you find yourself growing drowsy as he peppers kisses along your cheek and your shoulder.

“But, Y/N-” he starts, and despite your sudden onset of drowsiness, you make a little noise of assent. it’s enough for Mark to hug you tighter to him, before continuing.

“You know you’re still my best friend no matter what, right? This-” he gestures to the both of you, smiling gently, “doesn’t change anything.”

His words hit you harder than you want to let on, and you try not to make your emotions too plain your face as you lean against his shoulder, feeling his heart beat gently against his chest.

However, your words still come out slightly choked. “Yeah, I know.”

“I’m quite lucky, don’t you think? A best friend and a girlfriend in the same person.”

“Donghyuck won’t be happy to hear that,” you mutter, and you feel the vibrations of Mark’s chest as he laughs, a loud one that you know is genuine. The very sound itself is enough to make you smile.

“Thank God he’s not here, then.”

“I am, actually.”

The voice that materializes from the hallway is enough to make you jump and almost fall off Mark’s lap, right as he catches you. You scramble to get off his lap, hands moving to your lap as Donghyuck walks into the living room, arms crossed.

“How the fuck did you get in?” you ask, and Donghyuck lifts his hand up, a glint of metal twirled in his fingers. “Spare key. Mark showed me once when he was drunk off his ass.”

“And you didn’t knock?”

“I did. Many times, actually. You two lovebirds just tuned it all out. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“For one, this is a private apartment.”

“I mean, if the both of you were having sex, I’d probably hear it first and show myself out,” he shoots back nonchalantly, and your eyes widen at the same time that Mark lets out an embarrassed cough, which only makes Donghyuck let out a surprised laugh.

“Haven’t gotten there yet, huh?” He’s smirking now, looking at the both of you beneath his eyelashes in a way that makes you want to throttle him.

“Let’s- let’s talk about something else,” you mutter, and Donghyuck shrugs. “Sure. I came here to tell you guys that we’ve settled everything for the winter break trip. We leave in four days, once semester ends.”

“You came all the way here just for that?” you ask suspiciously, and the boy smiles as if he’s been caught.

“Um, I haven’t had lunch. Also, I don’t have any beach shorts, and Mark has a few he can lend.”

You nod, before narrowing your eyes. “You’re not going to tell the rest, right?”

“Not yet. But only because I want to see their reactions when I do,” Donghyuck replies, and you huff under your breath. It’s good enough for now.

“Then sit down. And help me prep the ingredients for lunch.” At your words, Donghyuck immediately straightens into a mock salute. “Got it.”

The gesture makes you laugh slightly as you go to the fridge, setting out everything on the counter. But Donghyuck seems to be deep in thought, almost orbiting around you.

After a while, however, he eventually opens his mouth, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

“…So you guys really haven’t fucked?”

“Shut it, Donghyuck.”

“I didn’t even mean to kiss him!” Yeji shouts, sitting up in her chair to defend herself. “The alcohol made him seem a lot more good-looking than he actually was.”

Karina only laughs behind her cup. “You just have shit taste in men.”

“Which is why I have a girlfriend now,” she says, grinning widely as she grabs Ryujin’s hand. The latter only rolls her eyes.

The eleven of you are gathered around a campfire, blankets bundled over your laps as you take turns dangling marshmallows over the fire. You can’t even remember whose idea it was to come down to the coast to escape winter for a few weeks, but as the sea breeze blows through your hair, you’re grateful for it.

“This is nice,” Chenle says, resting his feet on a stool as he leans back, sunglasses over his eyes.

“Says the one who refused to leave the house at first,” Donghyuck snides, earning an elbow in the side.

“Can the both of you just stop bickering for one second?” Jaemin says from across the circle, exasperated. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Well, if you want to hear about more idiots that Yeji has kissed while drunk-” Karina’s offer is cut off by the aforementioned girl kicking her in the shin, cheeks bright with mortification.

“I’m one of those idiots, unfortunately,” Ryujin shoots back, earning huffs of amusement from everyone as she defends her girlfriend.

“Speaking of that…” Karina trails off, gaze drifting to you and Mark in a way that makes you shift nervously, eyes darting away from hers as you laugh nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

She leans back, a sly glint in her eyes as she scrutinizes every minute shift of your features. “You were the second couple that night to go in. Did anything happen?”

Everyone else is paying attention now, even as they try to hide it.

Your eyes go to Donghyuck for a second, who only has a shit-eating grin on his face. From his expression, you can tell the man is practically jumping out of his seat at the prospect of being the one to reveal your newly-formed relationship with Mark.

Which means you have to beat him first.

“Yeah. We’re dating now,” you mutter, hiding your grin with a sip of your hot chocolate as the entire group turns silent. Even Mark looks at you, surprised, but his face quickly transforms into one of smug happiness as he grabs your hand, fingers interlacing with yours. “We are,” he confirms, and Karina’s eyes widen beyond what you thought possible.

“Whoa. Whoa. Hold on- when did this happen?”

“The morning after,” you supplicate, and she rests her forehead on her hands as she blinks.

“Good to know the both of you had it in you,” Chenle says, smiling at you in a way that’s equal parts teasing and sweet. “By the way, you should probably give credit to Hyuck. He was the first to notice, you know.”

“Really?”

“Wasn’t difficult when the both of you were staring at each other like lovestruck idiots,” he says, and you roll your eyes. You suppose you owe the man a word of thanks, eventually. Just not right now.

“I’m happy for you guys.” Jaemin, the sweetest of your group, smiles widely at the both of you, and Mark pats him on the back in a sign of affection. “Really. It was a long time coming.”

“I guess it was, huh?” Mark says, turning towards you with a contemplative sort of joy on his features. Despite the dim lighting, it’s almost as if there’s stars in his eyes as he looks at you, hand still tightly holding on to yours.

“God, couples make me sick,” Donghyuck mutters, earning a glare from you and Yeji. “You can leave, then,” you shoot back, pressing a kiss to Mark’s cheek in a sign of defiance.

“You bet I will-”

“Speaking of that,” Jaemin, always the mediator, cuts Donghyuck off. “It’s late. We should probably head back to the cabins.”

“Sounds good to me,” Karina says, standing up and folding her blanket over her chair. “God, it’s cold.”

“You cold?” Mark asks, and you shake your head, only zipping up your jacket as all of you make the slow trek back to your cabins at the end of the beach. Thanks to the off-season, you and Mark are sharing one, while Yeji, Ryujin and Karina take the larger house, with the other villas split between the six guys.

Eventually, you reach the doorstep of your cabin, waving farewell to the rest as they shrug off their shoes and unlock the doors. “Goodnight!” Yeji shouts, and you grin widely as you wave at her, the wind whipping your hair around your face.

Thankfully, the inside of the cabin offers a respite from the cold, and you find yourself quickly moving towards the woollen blanket on the couch. “Tired?” Mark asks, leaning against the armrest to face you directly, and you shake your head, eyes still bright. “Not at all. I think being on holiday keeps me awake.”

“Wanna watch a movie, then?” he asks, and you nod eagerly, stretching your arms out to pull him towards you.

“Come here,” you urge, making him stretch out his legs on the couch before you lie against him, legs tangled with his and back comfortably resting against his chest.

“Someone’s clingy today,” he points out, bemused.

“I haven’t gotten to be with you alone since we left for the trip yesterday. Let a girl have what she wants.”

At your words, he nods, lips curving up as his arms settle around your waist, a kiss pressed to your hairline. “I can do that for my girl.”

“My girl?” you ask, and he nods. “You’ve always been my girl. Even if you didn’t know it then.”

“I guess I like it. You can keep calling me that,” you reply, and he nips at your ear. “You looked good tonight, by the way,” you tell him, turning around momentarily to face him.

He’s wearing a fleece jacket over one of his graphic tees, somehow still choosing to wear ripped jeans despite the cold weather.

“I would say that back to you, but I’m guessing you already know,” he says, and you duck your head down, giggling softly.

“I suppose you also know that I love you. In case that wasn’t obvious enough,” he adds after a while, as if not quite sure what you’ll make of it. But you’re quick to nod.

“I love you too, Mark Lee. You’re everything to me.”

You’ve never meant anything more, and he seems to be a little starstruck as he looks at you, an utter look of adoration in his eyes. “How did I get so damn lucky?” he asks softly, and it’s enough to knock the breath out of your chest as your heart carves out even more space for him.

It’s only when Mark tilts your chin up that you go silent, eyes widening slightly. He’s staring directly at you, until he isn’t.

Because his gaze drops down to your lips, his thumb coming up to brush the corner in a way that makes you freeze.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs, and the question is so sweet, so earnest, that it makes you smile.

“You never have to ask,” you reply, and your boyfriend doesn’t hesitate before he’s pulling you mouth towards his and closing whatever little distance there is left.

Kissing Mark feels like sinking into a soft pillow after a long day, something that’s all too easy for you to melt into as you thread your fingers through the black strands at the nape of his neck. It’s surprisingly easy to do, the both of you moving naturally as if you’ve been doing this forever.

And when you find your kisses travelling down towards his neck, you take note of each soft exhale that he lets out, grip occasionally tightening around your waist.

Your hands are travelling too, going past his neck to his arms, and then ghosting down his sides, before you eventually find yourself preferring to fidget with the torn threads and rips in his jeans, occasionally tracing little shapes over the exposed skin of his thigh.

“You- you really should stop doing that,” he forces out after a while, the tension in his voice making you smile.

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking up for a second to take in the conflict evident in his features. “N-no. But it feels good.”

His tone is almost whiny, the little note of desperation in it making pleasurable heat curl in your stomach. “That was the goal, I think,” you shoot back sarcastically, and he laughs darkly, toying with the zipper at the side of your skirt.

You see the change as it happens, his eyes dimming just imperceptibly as something in it changes, a newfound determination in him as he presses one last bruising kiss to your lips.

“Don’t get snarky with me now. We still have the entire night, you know,” he reminds, and you find yourself quickly swelling with an unfamiliar sort of excitement, tinted with an almost delectable sort of fear as he pulls you even closer, fingertip tracing down the side of your face.

“And we have this entire place to ourselves, so what are you planning?” you ask, arching an eyebrow curiously, which causes Mark to smile teasingly. This side of him is so unfamiliar to you, and yet you love every moment of it as your pulse races, blood and adrenaline rushing through your veins in equal measure.

“You’ll find out soon enough, baby.”

This time, when he guides your mouth to his, you gladly let him steal your oxygen.

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