Jeong Jaehyun X Reader - Tumblr Posts

the stages.

SUMMARY. The stages of falling in love with your roommate slash best friend, according to Jeong Jaehyun.

GENRE. roommate!au + friends to lovers!au | fluff (lots of it)

WORD COUNT. 2.4k+ words

author’s note. here’s a small, short drabble or whatever this is. hope you enjoy it!

Keep reading

faded (사라졌다) — jeong jaehyun (정재현)

✧.* 18+

in the dim light of the abandoned warehouse, shadows wove intricate patterns across the walls, a testament to the broken windows and the remnants of long-forgotten machinery. the air was thick with the pungent odor of decay, and the floor was strewn with shattered glass and rusting metal scraps. amid this desolation, a figure moved with an unsettling grace, a quiet elegance that seemed incongruous with the setting.

his eyes, sharp and cold, scanned the room with a calculated detachment. they were like twin shards of ice, reflecting a mind that saw the world not as a tapestry of human experiences but as a cold, dispassionate experiment. he was a sociopath, a term that had been plastered across his dossier and whispered among his colleagues, yet the reality of it was far more profound than any clinical definition.

to observe him was to witness the eerie beauty of a machine in motion, devoid of the warmth that usually defined human interactions. his movements were precise, almost mechanical, each step measured and deliberate. the absence of empathy was not merely a gap but an abyss where emotions should have been. when he spoke, his voice was smooth and calculated, a perfect instrument of persuasion devoid of the imperfections of genuine human emotion. his words were delivered with a chilling calmness that could disarm and manipulate with equal ease.

yet, in his eyes, there was something more than mere coldness—a profound emptiness that spoke of a soul stripped of emotional resonance. it was as if he viewed the world through a glass barrier, witnessing the intricacies of human suffering and joy without ever truly engaging with them. this detachment granted him a chilling clarity, allowing him to observe and exploit the weaknesses of others with unnerving efficiency. he could mimic the gestures of kindness and concern, but they were nothing more than hollow echoes of what he could not feel.

the warehouse was his sanctuary, a place where he could revel in his isolation and indulge in the dark thoughts that occupied his mind. here, away from the prying eyes of society, he was free to dissect the nature of his own being and the roles he played. in the flickering light of a solitary bulb, he contemplated the human condition with a dispassionate curiosity. the contradictions of his existence fascinated him—how he could so easily simulate emotions he could never truly experience, how he could manipulate others with a mere flicker of charm, and how he remained untouched by the very forces that drove others to despair or elation.

as he stood amidst the debris, a sense of profound solitude enveloped him. He was a being of intellect and precision, existing in a world of feelings he could never truly grasp. his mind was a labyrinth of strategy and calculation, each thought meticulously honed to serve his purpose. he was a creature of logic in a realm of chaos, a master of a game whose rules he understood but whose essence remained forever beyond his reach.

and yet, despite this chilling detachment, there was an undeniable truth that lingered in the shadows of his consciousness. beneath the veneer of calculated indifference and the mask of emotional vacancy, he was still human. his actions, though devoid of conventional empathy, were driven by a deeply rooted sense of self-preservation and a pursuit of his own desires. in his solitary reflections, there was a flicker of the same existential questioning that plagued the rest of humanity—a search for meaning, a quest for identity, and a confrontation with his own mortality.

in that abandoned warehouse, amidst the debris of a world he navigated with clinical precision, the true nature of his humanity lay bare. it was not in the warmth of human connection or the depth of emotional engagement but in the quiet recognition of his own existence. he was still bound by the same inescapable truths that defined all humans—the quest for understanding, the struggle for control, and the inevitable confrontation with his own limitations. it became clear that despite his chilling detachment and calculated demeanor, he was still human, after all.

jeong jaehyun stumbled out of the warehouse, the weight of his actions pulling him down like a leaden shroud. the night air was crisp and harsh against his skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating gloom he had just escaped. his hands, stained with fresh blood, trembled uncontrollably as he stared at them in horror. the crimson splatters seemed to mock him, painting a grotesque tableau of the violence that had just transpired. each step he took was uncertain, as if the ground beneath him could give way at any moment. his mind raced, trying to make sense of the chaos, but the cold, rational part of him remained eerily detached.

as he wandered onto the street, his disheveled figure moving erratically, a car approached in the distance. jaehyun's gaze was fixed on the bloodied hands, his thoughts mired in a growing sense of doom. the headlights of the car grew brighter, and he vaguely registered the sound of its engine roaring closer. to him, it seemed as though the man in the sky was reaching down to punish him for his sins, an abstract punishment for a crime he felt he could never fully comprehend.

the car’s headlights blinded him as it neared, and with a sudden, frantic lurch, he realized he was standing in the middle of the road. instinctively, he threw up his hands, but the vehicle did not slow. the screech of tires and a sharp, agonized honk pierced the night as you slammed the brakes, narrowly avoiding hitting him. the car skidded to a stop, its headlights illuminating his battered form.

your eyes widened in shock as you took in the sight before you. you rushed out of the car, your heart pounding with adrenaline. jaehyun, in his state of shock and confusion, flinched as you approached. he was convinced that you were another threat, someone who had come to finish what had been started. but as you drew closer, your gaze softening with unexpected concern, he was taken aback.

“get in the car,” you said abruptly, ignoring his stunned expression and the blood on his hands. your tone was calm, almost serene, a stark contrast to the tension that crackled in the air. he stared at you, bewildered. “who are you?”

you didn’t respond immediately. instead, you gestured toward the open car door, a silent invitation. with no better options and an overwhelming sense of dread, he climbed into the back seat, his movements slow and hesitant. as you slid back into the driver’s seat and shut the door, you glanced at him through the rearview mirror. your eyes met his, and to his utter disbelief, you smiled. “why are you helping me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with disbelief. “it’s good karma,” you replied with a gentle, enigmatic smile.

jaehyun stared at you in stunned silence, the absurdity of the situation washing over him. “it’s hard to believe you’d help a stranger everyone wants dead.” you chuckled softly, the sound almost musical. “well, you’d have to keep that a secret. my brother’s a cop.” for the past month, his face had been plastered on the screen of every news channel imaginable, as he had been one of the prime suspects regarding the suicide of a high school teacher. one that turned out to be a homicide in disguise.

his eyes widened in shock, and a heavy silence filled the car. you glanced back at his bloodied hands in the mirror. “you must’ve done it, judging by what just happened,” you said. he shook his head vehemently. “i didn’t do it,” he said, his voice raw and earnest. “i didn’t kill anyone. i gave the guy a good beating, that’s all.”

you smiled softly as you turned into your driveway, the car coming to a smooth halt. “he must’ve deserved it,” you said, your tone light and almost amused. jaehyun sat in stunned silence, his thoughts swirling in a tempest of confusion and fear. as the car settled, he looked at you, a mixture of gratitude and wariness in his eyes. in this fleeting encounter, he had found a peculiar semblance of solace, a stark contrast to the chaos that had so recently defined his life.

you guided jaehyun into your home, your hand gentle yet firm on his arm as he stumbled over the threshold. the dim lighting of your hallway cast long shadows, but there was a warmth in the air that contrasted sharply with the cold, sterile atmosphere of the warehouse he had just left behind. his breath came in short, ragged gasps, and he could feel the weight of the night pressing down on him, thick and suffocating.

“don’t worry,” you said softly, catching his wary glance toward the door. “my brother’s working the night shift. we won’t be disturbed.”

his skepticism lingered in his eyes, a dark cloud of doubt that refused to dissipate. but he nodded, too exhausted and disoriented to argue. you led him further inside, the soft creak of the floorboards the only sound that accompanied your footsteps. the house was modest, cozy, with a lived-in feel that suggested safety, a stark contrast to the barren emptiness he had known for so long. there were framed photos on the walls—smiling faces, captured memories that spoke of a life filled with love and warmth. it was a world so foreign to him, yet so alluring in its simplicity.

you brought him into the bathroom, the light flickering on with a quiet hum. the stark white of the tiles seemed almost too bright against the dark stains on his hands, a brutal reminder of the violence that had so recently unfolded. you turned on the faucet, the water rushing forth in a steady stream, and guided his hands beneath it. the warmth of the water was soothing against his skin, but it did little to wash away the guilt that gnawed at the edges of his mind.

as you gently scrubbed his hands, he watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your face. there was a calm determination in your expression, a focus that belied the gravity of the situation. you didn’t flinch at the sight of the blood, nor did you recoil in fear. instead, you worked methodically, your touch gentle and sure, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. mever had he encountered someone so sympathetic, so willing to help without question, so utterly fearless in the face of danger.

when his hands were finally clean, you handed him a towel, your fingers brushing against his as you did so. “come with me,” you said, your voice soft and inviting. he followed you down the hallway, past the living room where a small lamp cast a warm glow over the furniture, and into a bedroom. you opened the closet, pulling out one of your brother’s shirts—a simple white button-down, clean and neatly folded. “here,” you said, handing it to him. “it should fit you.”

jaehyun hesitated, the shirt hanging limply from his grasp. “why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. there was no fear in your gaze, only a quiet understanding that seemed to pierce through the layers of detachment he had built around himself. “because you need help,” you replied simply. “and because i can.”

he studied your face, searching for any sign of deceit or ulterior motive, but found none. there was only sincerity, a rare and precious thing in his world. with a nod, he began to change, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were testing the reality of the situation. you turned your back to give him privacy, busying yourself with gathering the discarded clothes. he slipped into the shirt, the fabric cool against his skin, and as he buttoned it up, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort—a sensation he hadn’t experienced in what felt like a lifetime.

once he was dressed, he looked at you, a question lingering on his lips. “how are you so sure i won’t kill you?” you turned to face him, that same soft smile playing on your lips. “because i know you’re not a killer,” you said, your tone light yet firm, as if the idea was the most obvious truth in the world.

the words struck him like a bolt of lightning, sending a shockwave through his mind. never had he heard those words before—words of belief, of trust. they resonated deep within him, filling a void he hadn’t realized existed. for so long, he had been defined by what others saw in him, by the darkness they projected onto him, but in this moment, you saw something different. and god, did it feel good to hear those words.

you led him to the kitchen next, the warm, inviting space filled with the faint scent of spices and home-cooked meals. he sat down at the table, his body tense and alert, while you moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. the sound of pots and pans clinking together, the hiss of the stove as you lit the burner, the gentle hum of the refrigerator—it all blended into a soothing symphony that lulled his mind into a state of wary calm.

as you cooked, he watched you closely, unable to tear his eyes away. there was a grace to your movements, a quiet confidence that radiated from you. It fascinated him, this effortless display of empathy and care. he wondered how someone could be so willing to help, so fearless for their own safety, when he had seen the worst of humanity.

you placed a simple meal in front of him—a bowl of soup, steaming hot, with a slice of bread on the side. the aroma was comforting, a reminder of something he couldn’t quite place, something from a past life that felt more like a distant dream. he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the smell hit his senses, and his stomach tightened in response.

“thank you,” he said quietly, almost as if the words were foreign to him.

you smiled, watching him as he took his first hesitant bite. there was a vulnerability in his expression, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite name. you studied his face, the sharp lines of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, and wondered how someone could seem to lack so much empathy. what had shaped him into this detached, calculating figure? what had stripped away the warmth and left only coldness behind? but despite the questions swirling in your mind, you didn’t pry. you simply let him eat in peace, your presence a quiet reassurance in the background.

when he was finished, you took the dishes away, your movements gentle and unhurried. the night was wearing on, and you could see the exhaustion etched into his features, the weight of the day pressing down on him like a heavy burden. you led him to a small guest room, the bed neatly made with fresh linens. it was a modest space, but it was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environments he was used to. “i’ve made up the bed for you,” you said, smoothing out the blankets one last time. “you should get some rest.”

he stood there, hesitant, as if the idea of sleep was something foreign to him. but as he looked at you, your kindness and calm demeanor slowly chipping away at his defenses, he nodded. “thank you,” he said again, the words feeling more natural this time, though still tinged with disbelief.

you gave him one last smile before stepping out of the room, closing the door softly behind you. the silence that followed was almost deafening, and as jaehyun sat on the edge of the bed, his mind raced. he couldn’t rest, not with the chaos swirling in his thoughts. the events of the night replayed over and over, but now they were interwoven with images of you—your calm smile, your gentle touch, your unwavering belief that he was something more than what the world saw.

he lay down, staring up at the ceiling, but sleep refused to come. the bed was too soft, too comfortable, and his mind was too restless. he turned over, his eyes drifting to the door, half-expecting you to return, to tell him it had all been a mistake, that you had seen him for what he really was—a monster, a sociopath, someone incapable of true human connection. but the door remained closed, and the only sound was the faint hum of the house settling around him. in the stillness of the night, jaehyun’s thoughts were consumed by you—his unlikely savior. he couldn’t understand it, couldn’t comprehend why you had helped him, why you had risked so much for someone like him. the warmth of your smile lingered in his mind, a beacon in the darkness that threatened to engulf him. and as he lay there, staring into the void, he realized that for the first time in a long while, he felt something. it wasn’t quite hope, but it was close—a faint glimmer of something better, something he had long since forgotten.

but sleep still eluded him. his mind raced with thoughts of you, and the fear that it was all too good to be true gnawed at him. he couldn’t shake the feeling that this kindness, this sanctuary, would vanish as quickly as it had appeared. but for now, in this quiet room, he allowed himself to believe, if only for a moment, that he wasn’t completely alone in the world.

jaehyun awoke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the thin curtains, casting delicate shadows across the room. for a moment, he remained still, his mind drifting in the hazy space between sleep and wakefulness. the events of the previous night felt like fragments of a distant dream, too surreal to be real. but as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, the solid reality of his surroundings began to settle in. the warmth of the bed beneath him, the quiet hum of the house, the faint scent of something comforting in the air—it all grounded him, pulling him back to the present.

he turned his head slightly and saw you standing in the doorway, your presence calm and reassuring. you were watching him with a soft smile, as if you had been waiting for him to wake up. the sight of you, so real and tangible, dispelled any lingering doubt he had. this wasn’t a dream. you were real. the kindness you had shown him, the safety you had provided—it was all real.

“good morning,” you greeted him softly, your voice a gentle lull in the quiet room. jaehyun sat up slowly, his body still stiff and sore from the night before. “morning,” he replied, his voice rough from sleep. he hesitated, unsure of what to say next. the words felt heavy on his tongue, weighed down by the unfamiliarity of expressing gratitude. but when he looked into your eyes, the sincerity there made it easier. “thank you, again.”

you shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “there’s no need to thank me, kaehyun. i’m just glad you’re okay.” there was a pause, a silence that felt both comforting and heavy with unspoken words. he broke it first, glancing at the clock on the wall. “i should get going. i have a busy day ahead of me.”

you nodded, understanding, though there was a hint of concern in your eyes. “qre you sure you don’t want any breakfast before you go? it’s no trouble at all.” he shook his head, standing up from the bed and straightening his borrowed shirt. “no, i need to get moving. but i appreciate the offer.”

you walked him to the door, the quiet of the morning enveloping you both as you stepped into the hallway. “take care of yourself,” you said, your voice filled with genuine concern. “i’ll see you around?” jaehyun paused at the doorway, turning to look at you one last time. there was something in your eyes, something that tugged at a place deep inside him that he had long thought dead. he didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to make sense of the connection that seemed to have formed between you in such a short span of time. but he nodded, the gesture small but full of unspoken meaning. “yeah,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “i’ll see you around.”

with that, he stepped out into the cool morning air, the door closing softly behind him. the world outside was still waking up, the streets quiet and the sky painted with the soft hues of dawn. as he walked, the events of the previous night replayed in his mind, each step taking him further from your home but not from the thoughts of you. your kindness lingered with him, a warmth that refused to fade even as the cold morning air bit at his skin.

as jaehyun made his way down the street, lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the car approaching from behind until it slowed down beside him. he glanced over, his eyes locking with those of the driver—a man with a stern expression, his gaze sharp and scrutinizing. there was something familiar about him, something that sent a shiver down his spine. the man’s eyes flicked down to the shirt jaehyun was wearing, recognition dawning in his features. it was your brother.

the moment seemed to stretch on forever, the tension between them palpable in the air. jaehyun’s heart pounded in his chest, the sudden realization that your brother knew who he was, and more importantly, what he was suspected of. he could see the gears turning in your brother’s mind, the connection being made between the shirt jaehyun wore and the one hanging in your brother’s closet. it was a small detail, but it spoke volumes.

the car sped off, leaving jaehyun standing in the middle of the sidewalk, a chill running down his spine that had nothing to do with the morning air. he cursed under his breath, realizing the trouble that was now headed your way. but what could he do? what could he say that would make a difference? he shook his head, forcing himself to keep walking, but the image of your brother’s piercing gaze stayed with him, a stark reminder that his problems were far from over.

meanwhile, your brother drove in silence, his mind racing with thoughts of you and the man he had just seen wearing his shirt. his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his mind filled with the gruesome images from the case that had been haunting him for weeks—the case he was sure jaehyun was involved in. he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, that you were in danger, and it was all because of that man.

he pulled into the driveway with a screech, his anger bubbling just below the surface as he stepped out of the car. he slammed the door shut and marched into the house, his footsteps heavy and filled with purpose. the moment he saw you in the kitchen, his eyes narrowed, his voice laced with barely contained fury.

“were you with him?” he demanded, his tone sharp and accusing. you turned to face him, surprised by the sudden intensity in his voice. but you didn’t flinch, didn’t back down. you met his gaze head-on, your own expression calm but firm. “yes,” you admitted, your voice steady. “i was with jaehyun.”

your brother’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “are you out of your mind?” he snapped, the anger finally spilling over. “do you have any idea who that man is? what he’s accused of?” you held your ground, refusing to let his anger sway you. “he didn’t do it,” you said softly, but there was a conviction in your voice that made your brother pause.

“how do you know?” he demanded, his voice rising with frustration. “how can you be so sure he’s not playing you? that he’s not dangerous?” for the first time, you hesitated, the answer on the tip of your tongue but too complicated to put into words. you couldn’t explain the way you just knew, the way you had looked into jaehyun’s eyes and seen something that no one else seemed to see—something that told you he wasn’t capable of the horrors he was being accused of. but how could you explain that to your brother? how could you make him understand?

your silence spoke volumes, and your brother shook his head in disbelief, his expression a mix of anger and fear. “you’re too trusting,” he said finally, his voice tinged with desperation. “you can’t just believe in everyone. this isn’t some fairy tale where the bad guy turns out to be good in the end. this is real life, and people like him, they don’t change.”

“he’s not who you think he is,” you tried to argue, but your brother cut you off, his frustration boiling over. “stay away from him,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “i don’t want you anywhere near him. if you see him again, you call me. do you understand?”

you looked at him, your heart aching at the fear and anger in his eyes. you knew he was only trying to protect you, to keep you safe, but you also knew that he was wrong about jaehyun. but what could you do? you couldn’t fight him on this, not without risking a rift between you. so you nodded, even though every fiber of your being wanted to protest, to argue that jaehyun wasn’t the monster your brother believed him to be. “fine,” you said quietly, your voice tinged with resignation. “i’ll stay away.”

the morning air was thick with the promise of rain as you made your way to the local store. the clouds overhead hung heavy and dark, a stark contrast to the bright resolve in your heart. you had no intention of staying away from jaehyun, no matter what your brother had said. there was something in the way jaehyun looked at you, something in the depth of his eyes that told you he wasn’t what the world believed him to be. your brother’s words echoed in your mind, but they couldn’t drown out the quiet, persistent certainty you felt. so, you went about your day as planned, pretending that nothing had changed, that your brother’s warning wasn’t still ringing in your ears.

the store was quiet when you arrived, the usual hum of life dulled by the oppressive weight of the storm that threatened to break. you wandered the aisles, picking out the things you needed—a few groceries, some toiletries, nothing too out of the ordinary.bBut as you reached for a carton of milk, you couldn’t help but wonder if you should pick up something extra, something you might offer jaehyun should you cross paths with him again. the thought brought a small smile to your lips, a secret shared only with yourself.

your basket filled, you made your way to the register, exchanging pleasantries with the cashier as you paid for your items. the moment you stepped outside, however, you were met with the harsh reality of the storm that had been building all morning. the rain came down in sheets, pounding against the pavement with a ferocity that took you by surprise. you paused just outside the door, bags in hand, as the rain soaked through your clothes almost instantly. you raised an arm to shield your head, but it did little to protect you from the downpour.

you cursed under your breath, glancing around for any cover you could find, but the rain was relentless. it was as if the heavens had opened up, and you were caught in the middle of it with no escape. you shivered, the cold seeping through your clothes, and just as you were about to resign yourself to the wet, uncomfortable walk home, you felt something warm and dry settle over your head.

startled, you looked up, your heart skipping a beat as you found jaehyun crouched beside you, his jacket held above both your heads as a makeshift umbrella. his presence was like a jolt of electricity, unexpected yet oddly comforting. his face was calm, expressionless even, but his actions spoke louder than words ever could. “where did you come from?” you asked, your voice laced with surprise as you stared at him.

he didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed ahead as he guided you under the shelter of his jacket. “it doesn’t matter,” he finally said, his tone flat, almost detached. “you’re going to catch a cold if you stay out here.” there was something so inherently touching in his words, a care that seemed almost out of place given the stoic expression on his face. his voice was devoid of emotion, but the simple act of shielding you from the rain said more than any words ever could.

a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of your lips despite the rain. “you must feel like a gentleman,” you teased lightly, trying to coax a reaction out of him.

he looked at you then, his dark eyes reflecting the storm around you both. “i think it’s better not to feel,” he replied, his voice as calm and steady as the rain pouring down around you. you couldn’t help but scoff, shaking your head slightly. “yeah, right,” you murmured, though there was no real bite to your words. you knew better than that. he might try to hide it, but you could see the turmoil beneath the surface, the conflict he kept buried deep within.

without another word, jaehyun guided you toward the bus stop, his jacket still held protectively over your head. the rain continued to fall in torrents, but the small shelter of the bus stop provided some relief. you both stepped under it, and jaehyun finally lowered his arm, letting the jacket fall to his side.

“thank you,” you said, your voice soft as you looked up at him. the rain had plastered your hair to your face, and you could feel the cold biting at your skin, but you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest at his gesture. “that was really kind of you.” he shrugged, his expression still guarded. “it’s the least i can do.”

there was a pause, the sound of the rain filling the silence between you. you studied him, noting the way his hair clung to his forehead, the way his clothes were as drenched as yours. and yet, there was a quiet strength in him, a resolve that made you believe he would do this all over again if it meant keeping you safe. “are you headed home?” you asked, breaking the silence. he nodded, his gaze flicking to the side before returning to you. “yeah, but i hope to see you soon.”

something about the way he said it, so simple yet so heavy with unspoken meaning, made your heart flutter in your chest. before you could respond, jaehyun turned to leave, the jacket still clutched in his hand. but instead of taking it with him, he draped it over your shoulders, the warmth of the fabric immediately comforting against your cold, wet skin. you opened your mouth to call after him, to tell him to take it back, but before you could get the words out, he was already gone, disappearing into the rain like a ghost. you stood there for a moment, the jacket draped over your shoulders and the scent of him lingering in the air around you. the rain continued to fall, but it was as if the world had gone still, the only sound the steady rhythm of your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

you pulled the jacket tighter around yourself, a small smile playing on your lips as you turned back toward the bus stop, the weight of his actions settling over you like a warm blanket. despite everything—your brother’s warnings, the suspicions that surrounded him—you knew you couldn’t stay away from him. there was something in him, something that called to you, something that made you want to believe in him. and as you waited for the rain to let up, you knew deep down that this wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed.

jaehyun’s apartment was a place where silence reigned, a heavy, oppressive silence that seemed to seep into the walls, swallowing any hint of life or warmth. the space was eerily empty, devoid of anything that might give it the feeling of a home. the only light came from a single, bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting long, harsh shadows across the room. the walls were bare, painted a dull, lifeless gray that matched the concrete floor beneath his feet. there was no furniture, save for a single chair in the center of the room, where the cries of a man echoed off the walls, growing louder with each passing second.

the man in the chair struggled against his restraints, his hands tied tightly behind his back, his arms bound to the sides of the chair. q towel was wrapped around his face, tucked cruelly into his mouth, muffling his desperate pleas. his eyes were wild with fear, darting around the room, searching for some escape, some way out of this nightmare. but there was none. the only thing he could see was jaehyun, standing in front of him, his expression as cold and emotionless as the room itself.

his eyes were fixed on the man, unblinking, as he crouched down in front of him, bringing himself to eye level. his face was a mask of indifference, betraying no hint of the thoughts that might be running through his mind. he didn’t speak right away, didn’t acknowledge the man’s muffled cries. instead, he simply watched, his gaze steady and unyielding, as if he were looking right through him, into the very core of his being.

the man’s cries grew louder, more frantic, as he realized there was no mercy in those cold eyes staring back at him. he shook his head violently, trying to dislodge the towel from his mouth, trying to make himself heard, to beg for his life. but jaehyun didn’t move, didn’t react. he simply waited, letting the man exhaust himself in his futile struggle, until finally, his movements slowed, his cries turning to quiet, broken sobs.

and then, in a voice that was almost too calm, too measured, jaehyun spoke. “it’s a shame you told your sister to stay away from me.”

your brother’s eyes widened in horror, his muffled cries returning with a renewed intensity as he realized the gravity of those words. he thrashed against his restraints, but there was no escape. jaehyun remained still, his gaze unwavering as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small, sleek handgun. the metal glinted ominously in the dim light, and the sound of the gun being loaded echoed through the empty apartment like a death knell.

his expression didn’t change as he continued, his voice eerily calm, almost detached. “all of this could’ve been avoided.”

there was no anger in his tone, no trace of the emotions that might accompany such a statement. it was as if he were commenting on the weather, or discussing something as mundane as the time of day. your brother in the chair could only watch in terror, his cries reaching a fever pitch as jaehyun calmly raised the gun, leveling it at his forehead. the silence that followed was deafening, the weight of it pressing down on the room like a suffocating blanket. and then, without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

the sound of the gunshot was deafening in the small, enclosed space, reverberating off the walls with a violence that shook the very air around them. your brother’s head snapped back, his body going limp as the life was extinguished from his eyes in an instant. blood splattered against the walls, dark and wet, staining the dull gray with a stark, vivid red. the room was still again, the only sound the faint, echoing ring of the gunshot that slowly faded into silence.

jaehyun stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as he tucked the gun back into his pocket. his face remained expressionless, devoid of any hint of what he might be feeling. there was no remorse in his eyes, no regret, only a cold, unfeeling detachment as he looked down at the lifeless body slumped in the chair. for a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the man he had just killed, as if contemplating something, though what, no one could say. and then, without a word, without a second glance, he turned and walked away, leaving the apartment as empty and silent as it had been before. the door closed behind him with a soft click, and the only evidence that he had ever been there at all was the body left in his wake.

the silence in your home was a stark contrast to the tension that had lingered in the air earlier. your brother was gone, his absence marked only by the note he had left on the fridge. you saw it the moment you walked into the kitchen, a small scrap of paper taped to the metal door, the words scrawled in his familiar handwriting: “had to pick up a few more shifts because of the case. don’t wait up.” you read the note twice before crumpling it in your hand and tossing it into the trash. it wasn’t unusual for him to be gone, especially with the weight of the ongoing investigation. you brushed off the small twinge of unease that had settled in your chest and tried to push your thoughts elsewhere.

you spent the next hour lounging around the house, flipping through tv channels, but nothing could hold your attention for long. the rooms felt empty, hollow almost, and the silence that once brought you comfort now only served to remind you of the isolation. you moved from the couch to the kitchen, from the kitchen to the bedroom, restless and bored. eventually, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror, contemplating your reflection. the idea of heading out had been growing steadily in the back of your mind, a distraction from the loneliness that clung to you like a second skin.

you decided to go to the bar. it wasn’t a place you frequented often, but tonight, the thought of being surrounded by people, the hum of conversation, and the dim lights felt like exactly what you needed. you took your time getting ready, not rushing the process. the dress you chose was one that always made you feel confident, a deep, rich color that clung to your figure in all the right ways. it wasn’t overly revealing, but it had a certain elegance to it, a subtle allure that drew the eye. you spent a few extra moments on your makeup, accentuating your features, adding a touch of color to your lips, and just enough liner to make your eyes pop.

as you stood back to admire your reflection, you couldn’t help but smile at how you looked. stunning, even if it was just for yourself. before you left, you grabbed jaehyun’s jacket, the one he had draped over you in the rain. you wrapped it around yourself, the fabric still carrying the faintest scent of him, a mix of something clean and crisp, yet undeniably masculine. it was comforting, in a way that you couldn’t quite place, as if wearing it provided an extra layer of protection.

the bar was dimly lit, the kind of place where people went to forget the outside world for a while. the warm, amber light filtered through the haze of cigarette smoke, casting soft, flickering shadows across the room. the low hum of chatter and the clink of glasses filled the air, blending together into a background noise that was almost soothing. you found a seat at the bar, ordering yourself a drink and settling into the solitude of your thoughts.

the first sip of your drink warmed you from the inside out, easing the tension in your shoulders as you let yourself relax. the bartender was friendly enough, offering you a smile as he set your drink down in front of you, but he didn’t pry, didn’t ask questions. he could probably tell you were here to be alone, to enjoy your own company, and for that, you were grateful.

you sipped your drink slowly, savoring the burn of alcohol as it slid down your throat, your eyes drifting over the scene around you. people moved through the space in pairs or groups, laughter and conversation flowing freely between them, but none of it reached you. you were content in your bubble of solitude, letting the world fade into the background. but then, out of nowhere, you felt it—a presence behind you, the sensation of someone standing too close, invading your space. you stiffened slightly, your hand tightening around your glass as the man leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

“hey, beautiful,” he drawled, his voice low and smooth, dripping with the kind of false charm that set your teeth on edge. “what’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone? wouldn’t you rather come home with me?”

you resisted the urge to recoil, instead forcing yourself to stay calm as you replied, “i’m not interested.”

but he didn’t take the hint. his hand grazed your lower back, fingers trailing over the curve of your hip before dropping lower, brushing against your ass with a familiarity that made your skin crawl. “come on,” he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance, “don’t be like that.”

you were about to turn around and shove him away, your irritation boiling over into anger, when suddenly, his touch was ripped away. there was a blur of motion, and before you could fully register what was happening, the man was on the ground, sprawled out at your feet.

jaehyun was on top of him, his expression a mask of cold fury as his fist slammed into the man’s face, again and again, the sickening crunch of bone meeting bone echoing through the bar. the man’s cries of pain were muffled by the impact, blood splattering across the floor as jaehyun’s blows grew more violent, more relentless.

you were frozen in shock, your mind struggling to process the scene unfolding in front of you. jaehyun’s expression was one of terrifying calm, his movements precise and controlled, but there was something in his eyes, something dark and dangerous that sent a chill down your spine.

“jaehyun, stop,” you finally found your voice, reaching out to grab his arm, trying to pull him off the man. but it was like trying to move a mountain—he was immovable, his focus entirely on the task at hand, the brutal act of violence he was committing with such cold detachment. “jaehyun, please!” you pleaded, your voice trembling as you tugged harder at his arm, desperation creeping into your tone.

it wasn’t until you locked eyes with him, your gaze pleading and terrified, that something in him shifted. the hardness in his expression softened ever so slightly, and he paused, his fist hovering in the air, mid-strike. his chest heaved with exertion, and for a moment, the only sound was the ragged breathing of the man beneath him, his face a bloodied mess. slowly, he lowered his fist, his eyes never leaving yours. the bar had fallen silent, all eyes on the two of you, the tension thick and suffocating. the bartender was already on the phone, calling the police, and you knew you had to get jaehyun out of there before they arrived.

you grabbed his hand, your grip firm as you pulled him to his feet. he didn’t resist, allowing you to lead him out of the bar, the two of you pushing through the crowd of stunned onlookers. the moment you stepped outside, the cool night air hit you, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside the bar. you didn’t stop until you were a few blocks away, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing with the events that had just unfolded. you finally let go of his hand, turning to face him, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“what were you thinking?” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. he didn’t answer right away. his expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something that told you he wasn’t as unaffected by what had just happened as he appeared to be. he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle given the violence you had just witnessed.

“i couldn’t let him hurt you,” he said quietly, his voice void of emotion, but there was something beneath the surface, something raw and vulnerable that he was trying desperately to keep hidden. you wanted to be angry with him, to demand an explanation, but the words caught in your throat. instead, you found yourself nodding, the adrenaline slowly draining from your system, leaving you feeling weak and shaky.

the night air was cool against your skin as you walked alongside him, leading him back to your house. the streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, and the distant sounds of the city seemed to fade away as the two of you walked in silence. your heart was still racing from the events at the bar, but the tension had begun to ebb away, replaced by a heavy, lingering exhaustion. he walked quietly beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. his face was calm, his expression unreadable, but you could sense the turmoil beneath the surface. the adrenaline of the fight had drained away, leaving behind a man who was clearly grappling with something deeper, something darker.

as the two of you neared your house, you felt a knot of anxiety tighten in your chest. you had been turning over your thoughts since you left the bar, trying to find the right words to say. it wasn’t just about what had happened tonight—it was about everything. about the man standing next to you, and the path he seemed to be walking down.

you slowed your pace, eventually coming to a stop at the corner of the street, just a few houses away from your own. jaehyun stopped too, his gaze shifting to you, his eyes dark and questioning. “i need to tell you something,” you said, your voice soft, almost hesitant. the words were difficult to say, but you knew you had to.

he tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in concern. “what is it?” he asked, his voice low, steady. you took a deep breath, gathering your courage. “you have to stop what you’re doing, jaehyun. you have to change.”

for a moment, there was nothing but silence between you. the street was empty, the night quiet, and you could hear the distant hum of cars in the background. jaehyun’s expression remained neutral, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes, a shadow of doubt or fear that he was trying to hide. he turned his gaze away, looking off into the distance. “i don’t think I can,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. there was a heaviness to his words, a resignation that weighed down on your heart.

you reached out, gently touching his arm, drawing his attention back to you. “please, jaehyun. try, for me.”

those last words seemed to hit him harder than anything else you had said. his eyes met yours again, and for the first time since you had met him, you saw something soften in his expression. his cold, guarded exterior cracked just enough for you to see the man beneath, the one who had buried himself under layers of violence and detachment.

slowly, almost imperceptibly, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. it was faint, barely there, but it was real. “i’ll try,” he said, his voice gentler than before. “for you.”

the relief that washed over you was immediate, a wave of warmth that chased away the lingering anxiety in your chest. you smiled back at him, squeezing his arm lightly before letting go. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion. with that, the two of you continued your walk, the distance between your house and the corner where you had stopped feeling much shorter now. when you reached your front door, you unlocked it and stepped inside, the familiar comfort of home greeting you as you crossed the threshold. jaehyun followed, closing the door behind him.

the quiet of your home was a stark contrast to the chaos of the bar. it felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven from the outside world, and as you kicked off your shoes and hung up your jacket, you could feel the tension in your body begin to ease. you glanced over at jaehyun, who stood near the door, his eyes scanning the room as if taking in every detail. there was a subtle shift in his demeanor, a slight relaxation in his posture, though his eyes remained guarded. he watched you as you moved around the house, his gaze following your every step.

“do you wanna watch something?” you asked, trying to break the silence. you didn’t want him to leave just yet, not when there was still so much unspoken between you. he nodded, his expression softening. “sure.”

you walked over to the living room and settled on the couch, grabbing the remote and flipping through the channels until you found something that caught your interest. jaehyun joined you, sitting down beside you, though he kept a respectable distance. the television flickered to life, casting a warm glow across the room. the sound of the show filled the air, but your attention was only half on the screen. you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, noticing the way his eyes occasionally flicked toward you, as if he was trying to understand you, to decipher the thoughts that were running through your mind.

after a while, you got up and went to the kitchen, the idea of cooking something for the both of you suddenly appealing. the act of cooking had always been therapeutic for you, a way to clear your mind and focus on something simple, something tangible. you began gathering ingredients, moving around the kitchen with practiced ease, and you felt Jaehyun’s presence behind you, watching you.

“you don’t have to do that,” he said, his voice soft, almost hesitant. you turned to him, offering a small smile. “i want to. it’s nice to have someone to cook for.”

he didn’t say anything in response, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. there was something almost vulnerable in his gaze, a quiet appreciation that he didn’t know how to express in words. he watched as you moved around the kitchen, his eyes never leaving you, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment. the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, the tension that had once hung between you slowly dissipating. he offered to help, and though he was clumsy in the kitchen, you appreciated the effort. it was a small thing, but it meant more than he could possibly know.

when the food was ready, you brought the plates to the living room, the two of you settling back on the couch to eat. the television continued to play in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. the conversation between you was quiet, subdued, but there was a warmth to it that hadn’t been there before. as you finished your meal, you leaned back against the couch, feeling content and at peace. he set his plate aside and turned to you, his gaze lingering on your face. there was something in his eyes, something soft and unguarded, that made your heart skip a beat.

“you’re— different,” he said quietly, his voice almost reverent. you raised an eyebrow, smiling softly. “different how?”

he didn’t answer right away, his eyes searching your face as if trying to find the right words. “gentle,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “sweet.”

the words were simple, but they carried a weight that made your breath catch. you could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he looked at you as if you were something precious, something he didn’t quite know how to handle but was afraid of losing. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was filled with unspoken words, with the quiet understanding that something had shifted between you. something that neither of you were quite ready to acknowledge, but that you both felt all the same.

you reached out, your hand finding his, and you squeezed it gently. “you don’t have to be different with me, jaehyun,” you said softly. “just be you.” a small smile tugged at his lips, and for the first time, you saw a glimpse of the man he could be—the man he wanted to be, for you.

the night wore on, and as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself slowly succumbing to the warmth of the couch and the soft, comforting murmur of the television. the day’s events had taken their toll, and the quiet, steady presence of jaehyun beside you brought a sense of security you hadn’t realized you were craving. your eyelids grew heavy, each blink becoming slower than the last, until eventually, your head began to tilt to the side. he noticed the subtle shift in your posture, the way your body gradually leaned toward him as sleep claimed you. he stiffened slightly, unsure of what to do. it was new territory for him—uncharted and strange.

he wasn’t used to this kind of closeness, to the softness of another person so near. but as he turned his gaze to you, watching the way your features relaxed into sleep, something inside him shifted. the hardness, the constant alertness that had been ingrained in him for so long, seemed to melt away, leaving behind a quiet, unfamiliar stillness.

you looked so peaceful, so vulnerable. your breathing was slow and steady, your chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. your lips were slightly parted, and a few strands of hair had fallen across your face. he stared at you, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of your features—the curve of your cheek, the soft sweep of your lashes, the way your lips curled up just slightly at the corners, as if you were dreaming of something pleasant. for a long moment, he simply watched you, his mind strangely quiet. there was no rush of thoughts, no internal dialogue. just silence. and in that silence, he realized something—he wasn’t just watching you. he was admiring you.

hesitantly, as if testing the waters, he let his hand fall, his fingers hovering just above your skin. he hesitated for a heartbeat, then let his hand drop to your face, his palm brushing against your cheek. the warmth of your skin surprised him, sending a jolt of something foreign through him—something he couldn’t quite name but didn’t want to ignore. his thumb moved of its own accord, tracing the soft curve of your cheekbone. your skin was smooth under his touch, warm and inviting. he didn’t feel the usual surge of aggression that often accompanied physical contact, nor did he feel the emptiness that had become his constant companion. what he felt was something different—something that made his chest tighten and his breath catch in his throat.

his thumb continued its slow, reverent path, moving down to trace the outline of your jaw. the motion was gentle, almost tender, as if he was afraid of waking you or breaking the fragile peace that had settled over the two of you. his gaze lingered on your face, on the soft curve of your lips, the way your lashes fanned out against your skin. he had never really looked at you like this before, never taken the time to truly see you. and now that he was, he couldn’t look away. you were beautiful.

the thought slipped into his mind unbidden, startling him with its intensity. he hadn’t thought much about beauty before—hadn’t allowed himself to. But now, with you asleep beside him, your face relaxed and free of worry, he couldn’t help but think it. you were beautiful in a way that was more than just physical. it was in the way you had looked at him earlier, the way you had asked him to try, for you. It was in the softness of your voice, the gentleness of your touch, the quiet strength that seemed to radiate from you.

he found himself marveling at it, at the way you seemed to make everything else fade away, leaving only this moment, this connection between the two of you. the foreign feeling in his chest grew stronger, spreading through him like a slow-burning fire. it was warm, almost comforting, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel alone. he didn’t feel empty. he felt something.

jaehyun wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, his hand resting against your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. time seemed to stretch, each second blending into the next, until it felt like the whole world had narrowed down to just the two of you, here on this couch, in this quiet, darkened room. eventually, he felt his own eyelids grow heavy, the day’s events catching up to him as well. but he didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the connection between you. so he stayed where he was, his hand still resting against your cheek, his body leaning ever so slightly toward yours.

his eyes drifted closed, and he let himself relax, the tension in his shoulders easing as he finally allowed himself to give in to the pull of sleep. the last thing he felt before he drifted off was the warmth of your skin against his palm, and the last thing he saw in his mind’s eye was the peaceful look on your face. and then he was asleep, the two of you side by side on the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of quiet, shared warmth.

the morning light filtered in through the half-drawn curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. you stirred slowly, the warmth beneath you unfamiliar yet comforting. qs your eyes fluttered open, you realized that your head was resting in jaehyun's lap. he was still asleep, his breathing steady and deep, his hand resting lightly against your arm as if even in sleep, he was unconsciously holding onto you.

you blinked a few times, adjusting to the morning light, and looked around. the apartment was still and quiet, almost eerily so. there was no sign of your brother, and you didn’t know whether to feel concerned or relieved by his absence. part of you expected to hear the familiar sounds of him moving around the house, making coffee or getting ready for the day, but there was nothing. just silence.

your thoughts drifted to jaehyun, and as you shifted slightly in his lap, he began to stir. his eyelids fluttered, and then his eyes opened slowly, blinking against the light. for a moment, he seemed disoriented, as if he had forgotten where he was. but then his gaze settled on you, and a softness crept into his eyes that you had never seen before.

“good morning,” you whispered, your voice still heavy with sleep. “morning,” he murmured back, his voice low and husky. there was a brief silence as you both took in the situation, the strange intimacy of waking up like this.

“i’m sorry,” you began, a little flustered, as you started to sit up. “i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable…” before you could finish, he shook his head, quick and sure. “no, it was great,” he said, his tone almost too earnest. there was a sincerity in his words that made your heart skip a beat.

a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you pushed yourself up and off his lap. the cool air of the room made you shiver slightly, but you shook it off as you stretched. “how about i make us some breakfast?” you suggested, eager to fill the quiet with something other than the racing thoughts in your mind. he nodded, watching you closely as you moved about the kitchen. the normalcy of it all felt surreal—cooking breakfast, making coffee, jaehyun quietly observing you from his place on the couch as if it were the most natural thing in the world. but it wasn’t. nothing about this was normal, and yet, you found yourself wanting to make the most of it. to linger in this moment just a little longer.

you focused on the task at hand, cracking eggs into a bowl, whisking them with a practiced ease. as you poured the mixture into the pan, the sizzle of the eggs against the hot surface filled the silence, and you let out a small, contented sigh. “you shouldn’t work so much,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. his voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it that made you pause.

you glanced over your shoulder at him, your brow furrowing slightly. “i like working,” you replied, turning back to the stove. “besides, it keeps my mind busy.” he didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his eyes on you, studying you, as if trying to understand something that eluded him. the weight of his gaze was almost palpable, and for a moment, you were hyper-aware of every movement you made.

as you continued to work, you didn’t notice jaehyun slowly rising from the couch. he moved quietly, almost predatorily, his eyes never leaving you. there was a tension in his movements, something raw and primal that made him seem like a hunter stalking his prey. but it wasn’t that simple. he wasn’t looking at you like you were prey—he was looking at you like you were something precious, something delicate that needed to be protected. the comparison didn’t even feel right in his mind. no, it was more like he was drawn to you, like you were a rare, blooming flower amidst a field of withering ones. he felt this overwhelming urge to hold onto you, to shield you from the world before you could fade away.

you felt his presence before you saw him, a subtle shift in the air that made you pause. when you turned, your breath caught in your throat as you found him standing so close, his expression intense, yet vulnerable in a way that left you momentarily speechless. his eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by his own actions, but before he could apologize or step back, you smiled up at him, a soft, understanding smile that seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders.

“i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand half-raised as if unsure whether to reach out to you or not. you shook your head gently, closing the distance between you. “it’s okay,” you whispered back, your voice soothing. your hand came up to rest lightly on his arm, your touch grounding him in a way that nothing else ever had.

the two of you stood there, the air thick with something unspoken, something electric that made your pulse quicken. you stared into each other’s eyes, the rest of the world fading into the background. You could see the conflict in his gaze, the way he was struggling with his emotions, with this unfamiliar territory. and then, without thinking, you leaned in.

it was a small movement, almost imperceptible, but jaehyun noticed. his breath hitched, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, he hesitated. but then, something inside him snapped, and he closed the distance between you, his lips finding yours in a gentle, hesitant kiss. the kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, as if he was afraid of hurting you, of breaking you. but as you responded, your lips moving against his with a quiet urgency, he began to relax. his hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he deepened the kiss.

you felt a rush of warmth flood your chest, your heart pounding in your ears as you kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. the world fell away, leaving just the two of you, connected in a way that felt both thrilling and terrifying. jaehyun’s other hand found your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as he lifted you with ease, placing you on the kitchen counter. the cool surface against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, but you hardly noticed, too caught up in the feel of his lips against yours, in the way his body fit perfectly against yours.

your legs wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. you could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he was holding himself back, afraid of losing control. but you didn’t want him to hold back. you wanted all of him—his strength, his passion, his intensity. when he finally broke the kiss, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. his hands were still on you, one resting on your waist, the other gently brushing the stray hairs from your face.

he looked at you then, really looked at you, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. it was vulnerability, raw and unguarded, as if he was letting you see a part of him that no one else had ever seen. and then, without another word, he kissed you again.

this time, the kiss was more intense, more urgent, as if he was pouring all of his emotions into it. his hands roamed your body, exploring, memorizing every curve, every dip of your skin. you could feel his heart pounding against yours, could feel the way his breath hitched every time you moved. you lost yourself in the kiss, in the feel of him, in the way he made you feel. there was nothing else—no worries, no fears, just the two of you, here in this moment, wrapped up in each other. and for the first time in a long while, you felt safe.

you pulled back slightly, gasping for air, your eyes searching his. “i want you,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. jaehyun’s eyes darkened, his pupils dilating with need. he didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you spoke volumes. you reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, revealing the chiseled muscles that lay beneath. your hands roamed over his bare chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

he stepped closer, his hands sliding under your shirt, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. you moaned softly, arching into him as he kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just hard enough to leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. you felt his hands unbutton your pants, his fingers deftly unhooking your bra, and a thrill shot through you. this was happening. you were really doing this with him, and it felt right.

his mouth found yours again, his tongue dancing with yours as he pushed your pants down your legs. you stepped out of them, your bare feet brushing against the cold kitchen tiles. he lifted you back onto the counter, his hands supporting your weight as he stepped between your legs. the heat of his body was intoxicating, making you want to melt into him, to never let go.

and then, with one simple movement, he entered you, filling you completely. you gasped, your nails digging into his back as the sensation overwhelmed you. it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before—so raw, so intense, so real. jaehyun’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mix of pleasure and something else—something deeper, something that made your heart ache.

you moved together, finding a rhythm that felt like it had been written just for the two of you. your bodies were one, moving in perfect harmony, as if they had been made to fit together. there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths, the slap of skin against skin, and the quiet moans that slipped from your lips. jaehyun’s movements grew more urgent, his grip on your hips tightening as he pushed deeper, harder.

you could feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building, your body tightening around him. “yes,” you moaned, your voice needy. “just like that, jaehyun. don’t stop.” he didn’t. he didn’t stop, didn’t hold back, giving you everything you’d ever wanted from him, everything you hadn’t even known you needed. and when you finally came, it was with his name on your lips, his eyes staring into yours, as if he could see straight into your soul. his own release followed shortly after, his body tensing, his eyes squeezing shut as he buried his face in your neck. you held onto him, feeling his warmth, his breath against your skin. for a moment, you just stayed like that, your bodies still connected, your hearts beating in sync.

once the tremors had subsided, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours. there was something in his gaze that was almost apologetic, but you knew it wasn’t for what just happened. it was for everything else—for all the times he’d held back, for all the things he hadn’t said. but in this moment, you didn’t need words. the connection you shared was more than enough.

you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, feeling the tension in his body ease. “it’s okay,” you murmured, stroking his hair. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.” and in that moment, despite his fears, despite the darkness that lurked beneath the surface, jaehyun allowed himself to believe you. because in your arms, he felt like he could finally let go.

the two of you wandered aimlessly through the quiet streets, the afterglow of your shared moment still clinging to the air between you. it was as if time had slowed down, allowing you to savor the warmth that lingered in your chest, the memory of his touch, his kiss, still fresh on your lips. he walked beside you, his steps measured, his gaze forward, yet you could sense the internal battle raging within him. his mind, always calculating, always detached, now struggled to reconcile this newfound vulnerability. he had spent so long keeping everyone at arm’s length, viewing the world through a lens of detachment and apathy. but with you, something was different. you made him feel, and that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

as you walked together, the scenery began to shift. the neighborhood around you changed, becoming less pristine, more worn. the buildings were old, some with peeling paint, others with broken windows patched haphazardly with plastic. the streets were littered with debris, and the once-vibrant graffiti that adorned the walls had faded into dull smudges of color. it was a stark contrast to the warmth you had just shared, and it made you pause.

“do you really live around here?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with concern as you took in your surroundings. he nodded, his jaw clenched as he continued to walk. there was a tension in his posture, a stiffness that hadn’t been there before. he was used to this environment, to the bleakness and the harshness of it, but he wasn’t used to sharing it with someone like you. he wasn’t used to someone seeing this part of his life, this part of him.

you watched him, noting the way his shoulders seemed to draw inwards, as if he were trying to shield himself from your gaze. without thinking, you reached out and took his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together in a simple, yet deliberate act of comfort. the gesture made him falter, his steps slowing as he looked down at your joined hands, surprise flashing in his eyes.

“you should come over to my place more often,” you said softly, offering him a smile that was both gentle and reassuring. “you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

he stared at you, as if trying to comprehend why you would offer something like that, why you would want him around more, especially after seeing where he lived. but instead of questioning it, he found himself nodding, the words of agreement slipping past his lips before he could overthink them. “i’d like that.”

you both walked in silence for a while longer, your hands still entwined, the weight of the world seemingly lighter with him beside you. eventually, you found yourselves at one of the old buildings, a towering structure with crumbling bricks and rusted fire escapes. jaehyun led you up the narrow stairwell, your footsteps echoing in the confined space, until you reached the rooftop.

the view from up here wasn’t the kind you’d typically associate with beauty. the streets below were cracked and dirty, the buildings surrounding you worn and decaying, the air heavy with the scent of pollution. but with jaehyun beside you, it didn’t matter. the two of you stood at the edge, looking out at the cityscape, the sun slowly sinking behind the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out a joint, sparking it up with the ease of someone who had done it countless times before. he took a slow drag, the smoke curling around his lips before he offered it to you, a glint of something playful in his eyes. you raised an eyebrow, hesitant. you had never been one to indulge in substances like this, and the thought of him relying on them made you uneasy. but you could see the challenge in his gaze, the unspoken dare. he was testing you, trying to see how far you would go for him, if you were willing to step into his world, even if just for a moment.

with a small sigh, you took the joint from his hand, surprising him. “you promised me you’d try to be better,” you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. “i can try for you too.”

he blinked, clearly taken aback by your words, by the way you seemed so willing to step out of your comfort zone just for him. there was something about the way you said it, something so sincere, that it shook him to his core. he watched, almost in disbelief, as you brought the joint to your lips and inhaled. the smoke burned your lungs, and you coughed, but you tried again, this time more carefully, letting the warmth spread through your chest.

his heart skipped a beat as he saw you struggle to relax, trying to embrace something foreign to you, all for his sake. he had never expected this. never expected anyone to believe in him the way you did.

“i’m serious,” he said after a moment, his voice low, almost reverent. “about being better for you.” you exhaled slowly, the smoke leaving your lungs as you looked at him, your eyes soft and full of trust. “i know,” you whispered, and when he asked how you could be so sure, you simply smiled.

“i believe in you,” you replied, and those simple words made his heart flutter in a way he had never experienced before. it was a strange sensation, almost alien to him. he had spent so long feeling nothing, so long numbing himself to the world, and yet here you were, making him feel again.

the two of you passed the joint back and forth, the world around you beginning to blur and soften. the harsh edges of reality dulled, replaced by a warm haze that made everything feel distant, dreamlike. you were faded. the tension that had once been so present between you now melted away, replaced by a deep, shared connection that pulsed between you like a living thing. your limbs felt heavy, your thoughts slow and languid, but you didn’t mind. not when you were leaning against his shoulder, the weight of his arm around you, the warmth of his body grounding you. the world below might have been crumbling, but up here, with him, you felt safe.

jaehyun, too, felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. love, or something close to it, something that made his heart swell and his mind quiet. he had always been a predator in his own world, moving through life with a cold detachment, taking what he wanted without care for the consequences. but with you, it was different. with you, he felt like he had found something worth protecting, something worth holding onto.

he glanced down at you, your head resting against his shoulder, your eyes half-lidded with the haze of the high. you looked peaceful, content, and it made something inside him soften. he wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to feeling so tender, so vulnerable. but he didn’t hate it. not with you.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere, though he wasn’t sure if you heard him. maybe it didn’t matter. maybe you already knew. the two of you sat there in comfortable silence, the city below forgotten, the worries of the world slipping away. and as the sky darkened, the stars slowly appearing above, you both drifted into a quiet, shared peace, content to simply be in each other’s presence.

the days that followed your shared moment on that rooftop were different for jaehyun. the world seemed clearer, sharper, as if a fog had lifted, revealing all that he had been missing. his mind, usually so cold and calculating, now buzzed with an energy he hadn't felt in a long time. it was an unfamiliar sensation, but not an unwelcome one.

he didn’t want to die. not anymore. not when he finally had something—someone—worth living for. the darkness that had clung to him for so long, the apathy that had guided his every move, began to recede. the idea of losing himself to that darkness, of losing you in the process, terrified him more than anything.

for the first time in his life, he found himself actively avoiding the situations that once drew him in like a moth to a flame. he no longer sought out the chaos, no longer indulged in the reckless behaviors that had defined him for so long. the streets that once called to him with their promises of violence and danger now seemed empty, devoid of meaning. he didn’t want to get caught up in any more bad situations. he didn’t want to risk losing you. instead, he spent his days with a newfound purpose, a resolve to be better, to be someone you could trust, someone you could love. he found himself thinking of you constantly, your voice, your smile, the way you made him feel alive in a way he had never known before. every thought of you strengthened his resolve, reminding him of what was at stake. but the shadows of his past were not so easily escaped.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the city, jaehyun found himself alone, standing in an empty alleyway. the air was heavy with the scent of asphalt and exhaust, the quiet hum of the city in the distance. he sparked a cigarette, the familiar burn of nicotine filling his lungs as he leaned against the brick wall, lost in thought.

the sound of footsteps echoed in the alley, and he tensed, his senses sharpening. a woman’s voice cut through the silence, cold and commanding. “i know what you did.”

he turned slowly, his expression calm, controlled, as if her words hadn’t fazed him. the woman stood at the mouth of the alley, her uniform crisp, her badge glinting in the fading light. her gaze was steady, unyielding, as she looked at him with a mixture of disdain and certainty. he took another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke curl around him as he met her gaze. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

she scoffed, her lips curling into a mirthless smile. “oh, i think you do. you killed him.”

his heart skipped a beat, but his face remained impassive, betraying nothing. his mind raced, analyzing, calculating his next move. he could feel the familiar pull of violence, the urge to silence her before she could say anything more. it would be so easy, so quick. but then he thought of you, of the promise he had made, and the darkness inside him hesitated.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeated, his voice steady, almost bored.

the officer’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. “it’s a shame. i wonder what your girlfriend would say if she knew you killed her brother.”

her words hit him like a sledgehammer, but he didn’t let it show. the cigarette burned between his fingers, but he didn’t move. the urge to attack her, to end this threat to his new life, surged within him, his muscles tensing, ready to spring. he could see it in his mind’s eye—grabbing her by the throat, the life draining from her eyes as she gasped for air. he could feel the adrenaline, the rush that came with the kill.

but then he saw your face, the way you had looked at him, the trust in your eyes. the thought of you finding out, of seeing the darkness in him, made his heart ache in a way he wasn’t used to. he couldn’t do it. mot because he was afraid of the consequences, but because he had promised you. he had promised to be better. so, he did something he had never done before. he walked away.

he dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his heel as he turned his back on the officer, on the temptation to give in to the darkness. every step he took away from her was a victory, a defiance of the person he used to be. the officer’s voice echoed in the alley, taunting, trying to goad him into a reaction. but he didn’t stop. for the first time in his life, he walked away from a fight, from the violence that had always defined him. and as he walked, he felt a strange sense of relief, a lightness that he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling.

he didn’t look back. he didn’t need to. he had made his choice, and it was a choice for you, for the life he wanted to build with you. the darkness would always be a part of him, lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of weakness. but for now, he was stronger. for now, he had something worth fighting for, something worth living for. and he wasn’t going to let anyone take that away from him. not even himself.

the days without your brother's presence felt like an eternity. every hour that passed was heavier than the last, each second a weight pressing down on your chest. the apartment, once filled with the sounds of his laughter, his footsteps, his voice, now felt eerily silent, as if the walls themselves were mourning his absence. you tried to carry on as if nothing was wrong, telling yourself that he was just busy, that he would walk through the door any moment, but deep down, you knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.

anxiety gnawed at you, a relentless, gnawing ache that twisted your stomach into knots. the pit in your stomach only deepened with each passing day. sleep was no longer a comfort but a battlefield where your worst fears came to life. you couldn't eat, couldn't focus, your mind constantly replaying the last time you saw him, wondering if you missed some sign, some warning that this would happen.

you tried to keep it together, to stay strong, but the fear was overwhelming. it was like a storm inside you, building in intensity until you felt like you might break apart. you needed someone, anyone, to tell you that everything would be okay, even if it was a lie. you needed comfort, a lifeline, something to anchor you before you were swept away by the tidal wave of grief and fear.

without thinking, your fingers found your phone, dialing a number that had become all too familiar. the ringing in your ear was a small lifeline, a thread connecting you to the one person who had come to mean so much to you in such a short time. the moment you heard jaehyun's voice on the other end of the line, calm and steady, you felt the dam inside you break.

“is something wrong?” he asked immediately, his voice tinged with a concern that was still new to him, still unfamiliar.

you tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, choked by the sobs that you had been holding back for days. when you finally managed to get the words out, they were broken, fragmented, spilling out in a rush of desperation and fear. “something's wrong, jaehyun. i haven't seen my brother for days. he hasn't called, hasn't texted. i just know something’s happened, i can feel it.”

on the other end of the line, jaehyun was silent, but the sound of your cries cut through him like a blade. this grief, this sorrow that was not his own, was foreign to him, a bitter poison that seeped into his veins, paralyzing him with its weight. he was used to dealing with pain in others, usually inflicted by his own hand, but this, this was different. it was raw, unfiltered, and it made something inside him recoil, as if the grief itself was a living thing, clawing at his insides.

he wanted to make it stop, to ease your pain, but he didn’t know how. his mind raced, searching for the right words, the right thing to say, but all he could think of was the emptiness, the coldness that had always been his companion. he didn’t know how to comfort, didn’t know how to soothe. all he knew was that he couldn’t stand hearing you like this, couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering.

“he’s probably just busy,” he said, his voice softer than it had ever been. “you know how it is with work, sometimes it just takes over. I’m sure he’s fine. he’ll be back soon, and everything will be okay.”

he didn’t believe the words himself, but he needed you to believe them. he needed you to find some peace, some solace in the chaos that was tearing you apart. as he spoke, he could hear your breathing start to calm, your sobs quieting as his words wrapped around you like a fragile, protective shield.

“thank you, jaehyun,” you whispered, your voice trembling but filled with a small, fragile hope. “thank you for being there for me.” he felt something tighten in his chest, a sensation he didn’t recognize, a mixture of relief and something darker, something more dangerous. grief, foreign and unwelcome, twisted inside him, but it wasn’t the grief he felt for your brother, it was something else entirely. it was grief for you, for the pain you were in, for the vulnerability in your voice that made him want to protect you, to shield you from everything that could hurt you.

but grief was not something he was familiar with, not something he knew how to control. it festered inside him, turning, twisting, until it morphed into something more familiar—anger. his fingers tightened around the phone as he ended the call, his jaw clenching as the unwanted emotions surged through him, overwhelming his usual calm.

the aggression that had always been his default response, the darkness that had always been his shield, rose up inside him, demanding release. he stood abruptly, the chair in his room toppling over as he kicked it, the loud crash echoing in the small space. it wasn’t enough. the rage that had been born of grief and fear was a fire that demanded more destruction, more violence, but he fought it back, swallowing it down as he stood there, panting, his hands clenched into fists. but for all the rage that burned inside him, one thing was clear: he couldn’t let it consume him. not now. not when you needed him. he had to be strong, had to be better, for you. the darkness was still there, lurking just beneath the surface, but for now, he forced it down, buried it deep where it couldn’t touch you, where it couldn’t hurt you. for now, all he wanted was to be the person you needed him to be. and for the first time, that thought, that desire, was stronger than the darkness that had always defined him.

the weight of grief sat heavy on jaehyun’s chest, an unfamiliar sensation that gnawed at the edges of his sanity. he wasn’t used to this kind of emotional turmoil, this festering darkness that seemed to grow with each passing hour. the sorrow he felt wasn’t even his own—it was yours. but it had seeped into him, taken root, and now it was twisting into something he could hardly control.

he had tried to push it down, to bury it beneath layers of cold detachment, but it clawed its way back up, demanding to be felt, to be acknowledged. the grief wasn’t something he knew how to deal with, and so it quickly turned into anger. raw, burning anger that made his blood boil and his hands tremble. anger at your brother for dying, anger at himself for killing him, and anger at the world for making him feel so helpless.

he paced the small confines of his apartment, the walls closing in on him as his thoughts raced, each one darker than the last. his mind replayed your voice, the way it had broken over the phone, and it only fueled the fire inside him. he clenched his fists, trying to focus on anything else, anything that would take the edge off the searing rage that threatened to consume him.

just as he felt like he was about to lose control, a sharp knock on the door echoed through the room, cutting through the silence like a blade. his breath hitched, and he stopped in his tracks, his entire body tensing as the knock came again, louder, more insistent. he knew who it was even before he opened the door, a cold dread settling in his gut.

when he swung the door open, there she was—the police officer from before, her cold, piercing gaze locking onto his the moment the door creaked open. her presence was a reminder of the reality he was trying so hard to ignore, a reminder of the violence that simmered just beneath his skin.

“jaehyun,” she greeted, her voice dripping with the same disdain she had shown before. “i told you, i know what you did.”

his jaw tightened, and he forced himself to remain calm, to keep his emotions in check. he met her gaze with a cold, unreadable expression, trying to play it off like her words didn’t affect him, like he didn’t care about the accusations she was hurling his way. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. but even as he spoke, his mind was racing, trying to figure out how to get rid of her, how to make her go away before the anger boiling inside him erupted.

she scoffed, taking a step into the room, her eyes narrowing as she looked him up and down. “don’t play dumb with me. i know you killed him. and it’s only a matter of time before the truth comes out.” the anger flared again, hot and uncontrollable, and he had to dig his nails into his palms to stop himself from lashing out. he could feel the darkness rising inside him, the need to silence her, to make her stop talking, stop threatening the life he was trying so hard to protect.

“it’s a shame,” she continued, her voice taunting, as if she could sense his inner turmoil and was reveling in it. “i really do wonder what your girlfriend will say when she finds out.”

her words hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. the mention of you, of your connection to this, was like a match to gasoline, igniting the fury inside him to a level he had never experienced before. it wasn’t just anger anymore—it was pure, unadulterated rage, and it was directed at the woman standing in front of him. he wanted to strike out, to hurt her, to make her pay for the pain she was causing, but he hesitated. your voice, soft and pleading, echoed in his mind, a reminder of the promise he had made to you. he had promised to be better, to control himself, for you. but the rage was too much, too powerful, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

before he could think, before he could rationalize, he reached for the gun he had hidden away, the cold metal heavy in his hand. his movements were automatic, driven by instinct, by the need to protect what was his. the officer’s eyes widened in shock as she saw the weapon, but she didn’t have time to react. his finger squeezed the trigger, and the deafening sound of the gunshot echoed through the small apartment, shattering the silence.

she crumpled to the floor, the life leaving her eyes in an instant. the sight of her lifeless body, blood pooling around her, hit him like a tidal wave, washing away the anger and leaving only cold, stark reality in its wake. he stared at her, his breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps, as the full weight of what he had done crashed down on him.

the gun slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor as he stumbled back, his heart pounding in his chest. this wasn’t supposed to happen. he wasn’t supposed to lose control like this, not when he had promised you that he would be better. but it was too late now—what was done was done, and there was no going back.

panic surged through him, a cold, paralyzing fear that gripped him by the throat. he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, all he could see was the blood, the lifeless body that lay at his feet. and all he could think about was you, and how this would destroy you. his trembling hands fumbled for his phone, and he dialed your number with shaky fingers, his heart racing as he waited for you to pick up. when your voice came through the line, soft and filled with concern, it was like a lifeline, pulling him back from the brink of complete despair.

“jaehyun?” you asked, your voice gentle but tinged with worry. “what’s wrong?” he couldn’t find the words at first, his throat tightening with a mix of fear and guilt. when he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, filled with a desperation he couldn’t hide.

“i made a mistake,” he choked out, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “i didn’t mean to.”

your alarmed silence on the other end only heightened his panic, and he could hear you moving, the sound of rustling as you hurried to get ready. “i’m coming over,” you said quickly, your voice filled with determination. “i’ll be there as soon as i can. just hold on, jaehyun. i’m on my way.”

as the line went dead, jaehyun stared down at the body on his floor, the reality of what he had done crashing down on him with relentless force. he knew there was no escaping this, no undoing what had been done. the darkness he had tried so hard to keep at bay had finally won, and now he was left to face the consequences. but all he could think about was you, and the look in your eyes when you found out what he had done. the guilt, the shame, and the fear were almost too much to bear, but he had to hold on. he had to see you one last time, even if it meant facing the truth of what he had become.

the frantic pounding of your heart echoed in your ears as you burst into jaehyun’s apartment, breathless and disheveled. the sight that greeted you was a horrific tableau of chaos and blood—a scene straight out of your worst nightmares. the lifeless body of the police officer lay sprawled on the floor, a pool of crimson spreading beneath her. the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, mingling with the acrid tang of gunpowder.

you froze for a moment, the reality of the scene crashing down on you like a tidal wave. jaehyun stood in the center of the room, his face a mask of anguish and disbelief. his eyes were wild, darting from you to the body on the floor, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “jaehyun,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips. the sheer horror of the scene gripped you, tightening around your chest like a vice. tears sprang to your eyes, but you forced them back, focusing on the man you had come to care for.

he stumbled towards you, his hands reaching out as if to grasp at some semblance of control. “i’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice breaking. “i didn’t mean to—” before he could finish, you raised a hand, shaking your head with a numb acceptance. “it’s okay,” you said softly, though your voice was strained. “i knew you couldn’t change immediately.”

the words seemed to hit him like a physical blow. his eyes widened, disbelief etched into every line of his face. he looked as though he was teetering on the edge of a precipice, struggling to hold on to whatever shreds of composure he had left.

“please,” he pleaded, desperation flooding his voice. “get angry at me. yell at me. hit me. do something—”

you shook your head, your expression remaining resolute and eerily calm. in the midst of the chaos and the gore, you stood before him, the emotional turmoil contained within you like a storm waiting to break. he looked at you, his gaze searching for some sign of the anger or reproach he so desperately wanted from you. but your face remained a blank canvas, betraying nothing of the inner storm.

finally, he broke, his voice a strained whisper. “i killed your brother.”

the words hung heavy in the air between you, their impact undeniable. for a moment, time seemed to stand still. the intensity of the admission, combined with the grotesque reality of the scene, threatened to overwhelm you.

you took a deep breath, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze. “i know.”

the utter shock on his face was almost palpable. he stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to comprehend the depth of your reaction—or lack thereof. the warmth that had once graced your features had vanished, replaced by a stoic mask of acceptance.

“why?” jaehyun asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “why would you love me and stay with me if you knew everything?” the question was raw, an unspoken plea for understanding that cut to the heart of his own struggle. you took a step closer, your eyes softening as you looked at him.

“because i believe in you,” you said quietly. “i knew you were trying. i knew that change takes time, and that sometimes, sometimes we falter.” the shock in his eyes deepened, his face a canvas of confusion and disbelief. the realization that you had accepted him despite everything, despite the monstrous act he had committed, was almost too much for him to process.

he swallowed hard, the weight of his guilt and remorse pressing down on him with suffocating force. “i’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice breaking with raw emotion. without another word, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. the contact was gentle but firm, a silent promise that despite the horror and the pain, you were still there for him. you could feel him trembling against you, the strong, powerful man reduced to a fragile shell of his former self.

“it’ll all be okay,” you murmured into his ear, your voice filled with quiet conviction. he wanted to live, for the first time in forever. you wanted to live. you wanted to live alongside him, it was all you wanted. you wanted to live.

jaehyun clung to you, his breaths coming in shuddering gasps. the reality of what he had done seemed to sink in fully now, and he was left with nothing but the crushing weight of his actions and the glimmer of hope that you represented. as you held him, the enormity of the situation began to settle, the darkness that had enveloped him slowly giving way to the fragile light of your presence.

the room was filled with an oppressive silence, the heavy weight of the aftermath pressing down on both of you. as you slowly pulled away from jaehyun, his eyes locked onto yours, full of a mix of desperation and confusion. but your attention was drawn to the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs. the tension in the air thickened as an officer burst into view, gun drawn, her expression grim and unyielding.

your heart pounded in your chest, a cold rush of fear gripping you. jaehyun’s gaze followed yours, and for a moment, his eyes widened with understanding, but it was already too late. without thinking, you stepped in front of him, your back facing the officer. the metallic clink of the gun being aimed, the sharp inhale of breath—it all happened in a blur.

time seemed to stretch as you felt a searing pain erupt in your chest, the bullet tearing through your body with a sickening impact. the pain was intense but fleeting, a sharp, fiery stab that left you gasping for breath. the world around you dimmed, a curtain of darkness falling over your vision as you staggered forward. jaehyun’s face contorted in horror and disbelief as he saw you fall, his body moving with a frantic, desperate energy. “no,” he managed to speak, but the sound was swallowed by the cacophony of the moment.

before you could fully collapse to the floor, the officer's gun fired again, the bullet striking jaehyun. he crumpled to the ground beside you, the force of the impact causing him to drop like a ragdoll. the room seemed to close in on itself, the world narrowing to the pain and the two of you lying together on the cold, unforgiving floor.

the silence that followed was filled with the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled promises. your breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps, each one more difficult than the last. jaehyun's eyes, once so full of anger and torment, were now filled with an aching sorrow as he stared at you. his tears began to fall, mingling with the blood that stained the floor around you.

with trembling hands, you reached out to him, your fingers brushing against his cheek. his face was a mixture of agony and tenderness as he leaned into your touch, placing his cheek against your hand. the world around you continued to blur and fade, the edges of reality dissolving into darkness.

“i love you,” you managed to whisper, the words escaping your lips with a fragile strength.

jaehyun’s tears fell freely now, his entire being shuddering with the depth of his emotion. “i love you too,” he croaked, his voice cracking with the weight of the confession.

in those final, fleeting moments, the world seemed to dissolve into a haze of shadows and fading light. the pain, the fear, the anguish—all of it began to slip away, replaced by a deep, comforting warmth as you clung to the last remnants of consciousness. jaehyun's presence beside you was a bittersweet comfort, a connection that transcended the immediate horrors of the situation.

as your vision dimmed and the darkness began to consume you, you felt a final, overwhelming sense of peace. the last thing you saw was jaehyun’s tear-streaked face, and the last thing you heard was his whispered confession of love, a promise that would linger even as the world faded away.

✧.*

a/n: goodbye this made me so sad

Mark with big tits reader was craaazyy good 😵‍💫 what about mark with insecure reader bc she has tiny bitty titty (me)✌️

this is not a love story — mark lee (마크 리)

✧ WC: 15.8K

✧ SYN: you’ve never known love, no matter how much you believed you did. maybe it was never fated for you to cross paths, maybe it was never really there.

✧*. 18+

if there was anything you refused to allow yourself to believe in, it was a happy ending. taking things for granted seemed to come easy for humans, you thought. or rather, you knew, because you were a part of the majority. times were simpler when you were blissfully unaware. back then, you were just blissful, unaware of just how complicated life would get after those trial years.

you got your happy ending, you lived it until you turned fourteen, ready for a cruel beginning. it was easy to take the simple things for granted, and if you could turn back time, the first thing you would do is make sure to cherish it all. cherish staying up an hour past your bedtime, cuddled up with your mother, watching whatever show she had turned on. you didn’t care at the time, you didn't care for her midday soap operas or her nightly detective shows, but it was different now. now, you would give anything to watch just one more episode, curled up in her lap. you would give anything to get up early and get ready for school with your mother’s makeup, even though you hated going. you would give anything to watch cinderella one more time, to believe that happy endings really did exist.

your makeshift happy ending came to its final act when you turned fifteen. you had moved from busan to seoul just a few years back, and you were unable to adapt. a new school, new friends and a new way of life was awaitng you, but you had no idea how to make peace with it. it wasn’t too hard the first few years, all you had to do was keep to yourself. the thought of it was what kept you away from the other students, away from their cliques and personal politics, kept your grades steady and you to yourself. you were never in the eye of the storm, nobody had a reason to pick on you. like many other things, you had taken the peace for granted.

most of it started when you were fifteen, your own hormones teaming up against you. nothing had changed—not the silence, not the way those around you acted. nothing changed except your approach; you felt insignificant, like nothing you said or did mattered. you noticed the attention fall on the other girls from your class, the way nearly every boy was fond of them, showered them with praise. everything you had deemed irrelevant before had come back and hit you like a ton of bricks. why did nobody bother to give you that kind of attention? were you that ugly? was puberty doing everybody but you justice?

those kind of thoughts had started to flood your mind, seeping into every crack and crevice of your attention and ultimately stealing it from the things that really mattered. you started to focus more on your physical appearance, waking up an hour too early just to touch yourself up. you wanted to turn yourself into someone you knew you weren’t, to live somebody else's life just to feel better about yourself. everybody questioned the sudden change, no matter how little of important you deemed yourself. why was your hair straightened? had your lashes grown overnight? what was with the skimpy clothes? in a way, it was effective. more people had started talking to you, even if it was small talk. it made you feel good, but you knew you could do better.

you had traded what would later be a piece of your soul in exchange for temporary security. you entered your first real relationship that same year—it wasn’t real, it lasted five months. to a fifteen year-old girl with less than no experience, it was real. it was real when you held hands, kissed, when you lied to your parents to see him—even if it was for just twenty minutes, when he made you feel like you were the most important girl in the world. it was just as real to you when you had started smoking, drinking, doing all the things you swore not to do with him. it didn’t count if it was with him, right?

it became real when reality hit you like a physical blow to your stomach. ultimately, you had lost your virginity to him in a way that was so sudden, you knew in your head that it wasn’t love, but you weren’t thinking with your head. not when you wore your heart on your sleeve so proudly. it didn’t seem like a big deal to you, you didn’t even like it all that much. you just wanted to feel the love you so badly chased after, even if it only lasted five minutes. you told your friend all about it the next day, but you were so worked up and eager to share the news that you had forgotten just how much the kids your aged liked to blabber, and it was exactly what he did. you didn’t realize just how fast the news had spread, you didn’t register the dirty looks and condescending stares for a good while, until you had to.

the news of your distasteful encounter had reached the staff. the principal, the secretary, and the guidance counselor. when you were called into her office, you didn't know what it was you were expecting. the office itself put you off—white, sleek walls, a tidy desk, three chairs alligned perfectly to the side, and the sharp, pungent stench of medical supplies. everything about it made your stomach twist with fear, even though you didn’t know what it was that you were so afraid of. the silence only put you off further, but then, she finally cut through it. the sole start was just to ask you basic questions—how were you doing? have you been experiencing any issues lately? what was your life like at home, any concerns? it was meant to make you comfortable, to spread your soul open and go after its most tainted parts, but it only made you more queasy.

you wished the small talk had lasted longer, because you were absolutely unprepared for what followed. when she asked you if it was true that you had lost your virginity, you felt your world turn upside down. you were sure she had seen the way your face paled and heard the way your heart thumped in your ears, you were positive. your throat had started to close up and your lips grew chapped, no matter how many times you ran your tongue over them. in the end, you had to admit it, there was absolutely no way out of it. you had finished your confession with what worried you the most, begging her to honor the counselor code and to keep your parents uninformed. she promised to keep it a secret, but never intended on taking it to her grave.

in all fairness, you were fifteen. it wasn’t morally right to lie to you, but lying to your parents about such a situation would've been even worse. your mother threw a fit, broke down in the worst way possible and cried herself to sleep three nights in a row. your father had shut down—he was never mad, he was just disappointed. your mother had gone off like a time bomb waiting to explode, and she finally did. she exploded in a way that made you feel like you were the epitome of everything wrong with the world, and in a way that made her feel like she was the reason for it. you had blamed her for taking advantage of your future for so long, for forcing you to move with her just because she wanted to—because she longed for her city even if you liked yours better. you didn't think you resented her for it, even though she knew you did. she made peace with it, with the fact that you had both found a way to put a strain on your relationship.

your boyfriend was the first to break things off with you, even though you were the one instructed to do so. you had no intention of doing it, telling him all about what happened and his response being something generic and typical for a boy his age—you’d find a way out of it, he'd stay by your side, he’d wait as long as possible for you. you didn’t know it then but when you looked back at it, you felt like a fool. none of his promises were fulfilled, and you were left with a void in your heart for the first time in your life. it was a void you had filled with cheap cigarettes, shots of groccery store tequila, red hair dye and an absolute punch to your youth.

you were sixteen by then, and you had lost any and all touch with reality. the void in your soul was blocked by going to parties you swore you would never come across, befriending the hosts even though you knew they were shitty people, expanding your circle of friends you knew hated you deep down—but you didn’t care. it was a phase that took a toll on you and your reputation. during that phase, you had gotten yourself entangled in two more relationships. they were short-lived, shorter than your first one, but you didn’t wanna be alone. if you weren't with your friends or drinking, you wanted to feel loved. even if you knew it was temporary. you had given yourself up two more times to feel the love you thought you deserved, even though it wasn’t love. it didn’t faze you until people started talking about it, again.

this would happen four more times. four more times would you give yourself up to four different people you thought loved you. maybe some of them did, you didn’t know anymore. you had stopped believing in it a long time ago, you had stopped chasing the happy ending you thought awaited you. maybe you struggles weren’t all for nothing, you hoped, maybe the sun was hidden behind the clouds, but it wasn't. the sun had fallen and it was dark, and your only source of light was what was familiar. it wasn’t a good kind of familiar, no matter how useful the light seemed. it was a blinding kind of light and it, too, would succumb to the darkness at some point.

the cycle repeated itself four times, but you were too numb to realize just how bad it had gotten. the only time you had fallen in love during the whole ordeal was with the fourth guy. you were seventeen at the time, and he was a year younger than you. anybody listening would’ve assumed it was your shot at a happy ending, that it was everything you’ve ever wanted, and it almost was. almost. you were out with your friend and her boyfriend, and he had insisted on going to one of the many bars in town, but your friend was reluctant. you had been texting a guy at the time and, though it was rather casual, he happened to be in the same bar. it was the only reason you agreed, promising her you’d be there for just a bit. the guy you had been texting wasn’t too eager to see you, thinking it was too soon, but it all changed when you walked in. as corny as it was, it was the truth. he hadn’t expected you to be so pretty, so charming and so gentle with him. you barely noticed him at first—when you walked into the bar, the first thing you felt was the stench of medical equipment in the bathroom assaulting your nostrils.

despite the rough start, it was a relationship that blossomed into something that was as beautiful as a foxglove. it came in different shades, patterns and shapes, but it was beautiful. it was beautiful when you took a glance at it, even a good stare. it was beautiful when you embraced it, even for a long while, but it was just as deadly if you held onto it for too long. that was exactly what you did. you held onto it until you had nothing to hold onto anymore, until the stem had snapped and the petals danced in the air. the petals were all that was left, but even they showed no mercy. he had broken it off after six months, claiming to have done it because you were dishonest with him about how many people you had slept with prior to him, but you knew that it wasn't true. you knew he had just gotten bored of you.

your breaking point came just after, and you grieved him far longer than you should have. eight months proceeding the split had been spent drinking, pondering and making a fool out of yourself—all because of a man. it made you spiral, shift and it was the sole reason you fell apart. nothing mattered anymore, not even the people that made it their mission to turn your the intimate details about your life into a public spectacle. you let yourself fall apart with nothing to catch you but your own too arms, and even they weren’t enough to carry the weight of your burdens. had you ever known love? what was the point of feeling the warmth of a home if it was built with cards? you hadn’t known love, and you were sure you never would.

you started to take yourself seriously when you turned eighteen. the people hated you, all the people your age. they all knew you based on the mistakes you had made, the most intricate details of your life that you prayed would never come to light, and the poor decisions on your behalf. your name had become such a taboo topic that you had detached yourself from the rest of the city. you spent a summer away in japan with your uncle, searching for a way to put your mind at ease. upon coming back, you were quick and pleased to discover that everybody had forgotten about you. you were no longer relevant, your scandals were no longer interesting to talk about. it was something that one of your exes, kim dongyoung, assured you that it was as if people has forgotten about you entirely. despite having a rough split with him, one that was entirely your fault, you remained friends with him, and he was good to you.

your final year of high school came to a peaceful and successful close. all of your time was devoted to your classes and extracurriculars, and nobody said a word about it. you had assumed tens of thousands of derogatory words would roll off their tongues, at least behind your back, but there was nothing. once again, you didn't matter, and you couldn't have been happier about it. you graduated as best as you could, and absolutely everything had changed, but you didn’t feel at ease. you didn't feel like you would get your happy ending, no matter how well you were doing.

the pressure that once felt distant was now inescapable, crushing you under its weight. you thought the relief would come after graduation, that somehow this looming sense of duty would evaporate as you took the next logical step—studying law, following in the footsteps your family had silently mapped out for you. but instead, the silence from everyone around you only added to your disquiet. the silence wasn’t praise, it wasn’t encouragement, it was indifference. you had worked so hard for nothing more than a polite smile, a generic “congratulations.” no one cared.

that was when the contract came in—a modeling gig, of all things. It was meant to be temporary, a short detour from the expected path. you figured it would be easy. why wouldn’t it be? pose for a few pictures, walk down a runway. In and out, no mess. you’d take some time, maybe earn a little money before heading to law school like you had always planned. you signed your name on the dotted line, not fully realizing what it meant. suddenly, you were in it—korea’s newest face, the nation’s ‘princess.’ the transformation wasn’t gradual; it was like waking up in someone else’s body. one minute you were a student, scandalous, spat on. the next, you were everywhere. billboards, magazines, flashing cameras. thhe whole country seemed to know your name, and for the first time, you felt like you existed.

but existence always came at a price. at first, it was small sacrifices. a skipped meal here, an extra workout there. you told yourself it was temporary, just until the next shoot, just until the next campaign. soon, celery and ice cubes became your daily staples, the only things you allowed yourself to consume. the emptiness inside you wasn’t just hunger anymore—it was something deeper, more insidious. your reflection in the mirror grew sharper, more defined, as if every pound you shed stripped away another layer of who you used to be.

the people around you noticed the changes, but not in the way you expected. the criticisms came, not from the people who mattered to you, but from strangers. overweight men with sagging bellies, women who would never fit into the clothes you wore—they all felt entitled to say something. a comment about your posture, the way your hips didn’t quite match their idea of perfection, how your eyes looked too tired. their words clung to you like grease, seeping into every pore until you began to believe them. but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t stop. the insults only fueled you, driving you to work harder, push further, just to prove them wrong.

there were moments when you wanted to quit, when the exhaustion from endless workouts and starvation weighed you down so heavily that you felt your bones might snap under the strain. there were nights when you stared at the ceiling, wondering if you had made the right choice, if modeling had been easier than law—or if this was just another cage, more gilded but no less suffocating. yet, despite it all, something began to shift. it started with the way people looked at you. at first, you didn’t notice. you were too busy hiding your exhaustion behind perfect makeup, too focused on pretending that everything was fine. but then, you began to see it—the looks that weren’t pitying, weren’t dismissive. people weren’t looking at you like they used to, with that thin layer of contempt, the way they had in school. it wasn’t hatred anymore. this time, when they looked at you, it was admiration.

the way their eyes lingered on you wasn’t like before. It was different—soft, almost reverent. you could feel it in the way they stood a little straighter when you walked into a room, the way conversations quieted, as if your mere presence demanded attention. you started to recognize that look. it was the one you had given others, the untouchable, the perfect. they didn’t see you as human anymore, but as something beyond that. they saw perfection, or the closest thing to it that they could grasp.

it felt good. addictively good. the power that came with their admiration, their respect, it washed over you like a warm current, and you couldn’t deny how much you craved it. it filled the hollow places inside you that no amount of food or rest could fix. you had always wanted to be seen, to matter, and now you did. it didn’t matter if you were starving. it didn’t matter if you felt like you were falling apart behind the scenes. as long as they looked at you like that, it was worth it, wasn’t it? you had become korea’s ‘princess,’ but deep down, you knew. the crown was heavy, and it wasn’t yours to keep forever. you just didn’t know how long you could carry it.

the studio was a cavernous space, its high ceilings disappearing into soft shadows cast by the industrial lighting rigged above. a haze of white light bathed the room, diffusing over every surface, amplifying the sharpness of the scene in front of you. rows of expensive cameras clicked in perfect rhythm, each shutter a drumbeat to your performance. the set was minimal—sleek, modern, monochrome—a backdrop of muted grays and blacks that made your crimson gown blaze like fire.

you were the centerpiece, draped in a figure-hugging satin dress that pooled dramatically around your feet. the fabric clung to every curve, shimmering under the lights with every subtle movement. a slit ran high up your thigh, a calculated element of the designer’s vision. the neckline dipped just enough to tease, but not to scandalize. everything was deliberate, down to the last stitch. you had become a canvas, an embodiment of elegance, allure, and untouchable sophistication.

“alright, beautiful, chin up. yes, just like that,” the photographer’s voice echoed, smooth and precise. his name was han minseok, and he had a reputation for bringing out the best in his models. his praise came easy, but you knew better than to let it sink in too deep. you held your pose, lifting your chin slightly, eyes half-lidded as you stared down the lens with calculated indifference. “perfect, darling,” minseok murmured. the camera clicked again, rapid-fire. “you’re nailing it. hold it right there—perfect!”

your manager, jeong jaehyun, stood off to the side, arms crossed, observing the shoot with an approving smile. his eyes followed every movement you made, calculating, critiquing, but also proud. he knew how to push you, knew exactly how far you could go before breaking. and today, you were flawless. you could feel his approval radiating from him without him needing to say a word. you shifted your weight slightly, allowing the dress to catch the light in a new way. the faintest smirk tugged at your lips—a hint of danger, a whisper of seduction. you manqged to embody the theme of the shoot effortlessly. minseok lowered the camera, grinning wide. “that’s a wrap. fantastic work as always.”

jaehyun approached you, his smile soft but pleased. he handed you a bottle of water, and you accepted it with a gracious nod, twisting the cap off to take a slow sip. the cold liquid hit your parched throat, refreshing but momentarily distracting. when you looked back at him, you noticed it—the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes today. there was a sadness, a shadow lingering behind his usually confident demeanor. “jaehyun,” you said softly, eyebrows furrowing. “what’s wrong?”

his smile wavered. “sit down for a second,” he said, gesturing toward one of the nearby makeup chairs. your heart skipped a beat, a subtle prickle of worry crawling up your spine. you did as he asked, sitting gingerly, suddenly aware of the hum of the studio around you—the muffled conversations, the clinking of equipment being packed away, the janitor scrubbing at a stubborn stain on the floor in the corner. the sharp smell of cleaning chemicals stung your nostrils, cutting through the faint scent of hairspray still lingering in the air. you tried to ignore it, forcing your attention back to jaehyun.

“what’s going on?” you asked, your voice low and uneasy. he hesitated, a brief flicker of discomfort crossing his features before he spoke. “i’m being relocated. back to connecticut. it’s for a while—maybe a few months.”

you blinked, the words sinking in like a slow, cold weight. “what?” your voice came out quieter than you intended. he saw the look on your face, and he immediately stepped forward, taking your hands into his, his grip firm but comforting. “i’ll be back,” he assured you, his tone gentle. “you’ll be fine, better than fine. you’re doing better than ever.”

the disappointment hit you like a punch to the chest, sharp and unexpected. “i can’t do it without you,” you whispered, your voice almost breaking. he shook his head, his expression softening even more. “it’s not me, it’s you. i’m the one who can’t do this without you.”

his words should have been comforting, but they only deepened the sense of dread coiling in your stomach. jaehyun had been with you since the beginning, guiding you through every high and low, through every mistake and every victory. the thought of him not being there, even for a little while, made the ground beneath your feet feel unsteady. he paused for a moment, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles before he continued. “you’ll have someone new. a friend of mine, just as experienced as me. i trust him completely.” you frowned, skeptical. “who?”

“you’ll meet him tonight,” he said, offering a small smile. “the whole team is going out for drinks, and he’ll be there.” you nodded, though the knot of anxiety in your chest tightened. even with his reassurances, the idea of working with someone new didn’t sit well with you. the trust you had in him wasn’t something that could be replaced so easily. sensing your unease, jaehyun leaned down, wrapping you in a hug. his arms were warm, familiar, grounding. “you’ll always be a star,” he murmured against your ear, his voice low and comforting. “with or without me.”

you hated how much those words hurt. hated how much you had allowed yourself to rely on him. it wasn’t supposed to be this way. you weren’t supposed to get attached—not to anyone. but history had a cruel way of repeating itself, didn’t it? all you ever did was get attached. you didn’t trust yourself to say anything, so you nodded silently, letting him hold you for a moment longer before he pulled away, his hand squeezing yours one last time. he gave you a final smile—sad, but reassuring—before he turned and walked toward the door, leaving you alone with the weight of his absence already settling over you, even if he hadn’t left you yet. they all left, why was it so shocking that his turn had come?

your apartment was a modern contradiction—beautiful, sleek, but hollow. the wide windows let in a gentle glow from the streetlights outside, casting long shadows against the pristine white walls. it was elegant, like something out of a design magazine, all clean lines and expensive furniture. the kind of place that should have felt like home but never quite did. every corner was curated, from the marble countertops to the velvet sectional sofa that sat untouched most days. everything looked perfect, yet the emptiness inside you felt sharper here, in this space that was too big for just one person.

your parents hadn’t been to your apartment, hadn’t seen this life you had built for yourself. not that they cared to. you hadn’t spoken to them in months, not since they’d made it clear that your choice to model, rather than pursue law, was unforgivable. their silence hung over you like a cloud, heavy and oppressive, yet familiar. you were used to being left behind. your father’s words still echoed in your head, dismissive and final, “you’re wasting your potential.” your mother hadn’t said anything at all—her disapproval was cold, passive, like she had washed her hands of you.

you stared at your reflection in the mirror, hands delicately applying makeup with a precision you had perfected over the years. the foundation smoothed over your skin, covering every flaw, creating the illusion of perfection you’d mastered long ago. the emptiness in your chest collided with the fullness of your apartment—so much space, so little meaning. it felt like you had filled your life with things, with a career that demanded all of you, and yet somehow you remained empty inside, hollowed out by the silence from the people who should have cared the most. your hands moved almost mechanically as you styled your hair, pulling it into loose waves that fell over your shoulders in soft, effortless curls. your outfit for the night was simple but striking—an off-the-shoulder black dress that hugged your frame, the fabric slinking around your body like it was made for you. it was elegant, understated, but you knew it would turn heads. you always turned heads.

as you stepped out of your apartment and into the waiting car, you felt a strange sense of detachment. the city lights blurred outside the tinted windows, a constant stream of life and movement, yet you felt removed from it all. the car ride to the bar was short, but the knot of anxiety in your stomach twisted tighter with each passing minute. you weren’t sure what tonight would bring, but something told you things were about to change. jaehyun was supposed to meet you, introduce you to your new manager. the thought made you feel uneasy.

when the car pulled up to the bar, you were immediately greeted by the flash of cameras. it never ceased to unnerve you, the sudden explosion of light, the shouts from photographers who called your name like they knew you. you squinted against the brightness, stepping out of the car as gracefully as you could manage, though the onslaught of attention left you feeling exposed, vulnerable. you half-expected jaehyun to come out and handle the situation, to shield you like he always did, but he didn’t. the door to the bar opened, and for a brief moment, you thought it was him. but it wasn’t.

instead, a man appeared, a bit shorter than jaehyun but striking in his own way. he wore a leather jacket rather than jaehyun’s usual denim, the dark material catching the light in a way that made him look almost dangerous. his jawline was sharper, more distinct, and his dark hair was swept down in front, framing his forehead. his eyes met yours, and there was something in the way he looked at you—something unreadable, intense. he didn’t say a word as he approached, discarding his jacket and spreading it open to shield you from the cameras. his movements were smooth, confident, as he draped the jacket over your shoulders and guided you inside. the warmth of the leather was a stark contrast to the cold, clinical detachment you’d felt all evening.

“who are you?” you asked, your voice soft but firm, laced with confusion. his eyes stayed locked on yours, his gaze steady, unreadable. “mark lee,” he said, his tone calm, measured. he paused, and for a moment, you thought he might say more, but instead, he let the silence hang between you. then, as if deciding to answer the question you hadn’t asked, he added, “i’m your new manager. didn’t jaehyun tell you?”

your heart sank slightly, the pieces falling into place—he was the one jaehyun had spoken about. mark studied your face as though he were trying to read you, to understand something you hadn’t yet said. a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, almost amused by your reaction. “it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said softly. you blinked, unsure of how to respond. the words you spoke felt disconnected from the thoughts in your mind. “the pleasure’s all mine,” you mumbled, though the uncertainty in your voice betrayed you.

mark’s gaze lingered a second longer before he turned, leading you further inside, away from the flashes of the cameras. the air inside the bar was warmer, thick with the chatter of people and the clinking of glasses, but you couldn’t shake the strange feeling that had settled in your chest. even as he guided you to a table, the leather of his jacket still draped over your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel like everything was shifting beneath your feet. and you weren’t sure you liked it.

the bar was vaguely lit, the low hum of conversation blending with the soft clink of glasses. a few members of the team were already gathered around a table near the back, the familiar faces of the makeup artist, the stylist, and the photographer who had been on set earlier. they greeted you with warm smiles and the easy familiarity of people who had spent long hours together under bright studio lights. it was strange how these people had become your family of sorts, even if it wasn’t a family you had chosen.

jaehyun spotted you first, standing up with that easy grin of his, arms already open for a hug. “there she is,” he murmured, pulling you in tightly. his embrace was warm and comforting, but the knowledge that this might be one of the last times he’d be there for you made it bittersweet. “have you met your new manager yet?” he asked as he released you, his eyes glancing over at mark, who stood just a few steps behind you.

you nodded, unsure of what to say, the words getting caught somewhere between your mind and your mouth. you could still feel the weight of mark’s jacket on your shoulders, the leather warm against your skin, grounding you as you stood between the two men. you wanted to say something that sounded more certain, but you were scared of how it might come out—scared it might sound like you didn’t want this. mark stepped forward, a casual confidence in his movements. “she ran into a bit of paparazzi trouble outside,” he said with a slight chuckle, as if it was nothing new.

jaehyun clapped him on the back, laughing. “always on duty, huh? you must have eyes everywhere.” mark grinned, his laugh coming easy. “you have no idea.”

he pulled out a chair for you, the gesture small but thoughtful, as he motioned for you to sit between him and jaehyun. as you lowered yourself into the seat, your eyes met his for a moment, and there was something in the way he smiled at you that eased the tension in your chest just a little bit. you settled in, the low buzz of the bar around you offering some comfort, though you still couldn’t shake the feeling of change looming in the air. the drinks came quickly—classic cocktails, neat whiskey, and bottles of soju. jaehyun was the first to raise his glass, and you followed suit. “i’m going to miss having soju while i’m away,” he said with a sigh, swirling the glass in his hand.

you clinked your glass against his, a smile tugging at your lips. “we’ll drink it in your honor.” he laughed, and as you turned to clink your glass with mark’s, your eyes met his again. he smiled back at you, that same easy warmth from earlier. for a second, you forgot about the looming goodbye, about the shift that was about to happen. you let yourself smile, feeling a strange sense of calm in the moment. the drinks were strong, stronger than you’d realized at first. the warmth of the alcohol spread through your chest, loosening the tightness in your muscles, and you allowed yourself to relax into the night. laughter flowed easily among the group, the conversation light and comfortable, even as the weight of jaehyun’s upcoming departure lingered on the edges.

but eventually, the night began to wind down. one by one, the team started to tap out, heading home with promises of seeing each other soon. jaehyun was the last to stand, his expression softening as he looked at you. “i’ve gotta head out. my flight’s tomorrow,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of the goodbye that neither of you wanted to say.

you stood with him, the alcohol making you feel just tipsy enough that the world seemed to blur a little around the edges. as you hugged him, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapped around you, and you realized just how much you were going to miss him. “mark will take good care of you,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. all you could do was nod, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. he pulled away, giving you one last look before turning to leave. you watched him go, the door closing behind him with a finality that made your heart sink.

you sat back down, the world feeling a little off-kilter now that jaehyun was gone. the noise of the bar seemed distant, the voices around you a dull hum. but then you felt a reassuring hand on your shoulder, and when you turned, you found mark looking at you, his expression gentle. “i know you aren’t thrilled about this,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing look. “but he’ll be back.”

you nodded, trying to steady the emotions swirling in your chest. “don’t be offended,” you said, your words a little slurred from the alcohol. “i must sound like an asshole. i’ve just known jay a long time.” mark laughed softly, shaking his head. “the models i work with are usually blunt and awful. you’re like a breath of fresh air.”

your heart fluttered at his words, though you weren’t sure if it was because of the alcohol or something else. either way, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, a blush you couldn’t quite control. “really?” you asked, your voice soft. he nodded, taking a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. “yeah. it’s hard to meet someone genuine like that.” it caught you off guard, the way he said it. he hadn’t called you hot or beautiful—the usual compliments that were thrown at you without much thought. he hadn’t treated you like you were something to admire from a distance, something polished and perfect. he thought you were genuine. nice, even. and for the first time in what felt like forever, something mattered other than how you looked.

mark stood outside the bar with you, his hand wrapped loosely around his phone as he called for a cab. the air was cool, the kind of breeze that bit at your skin just enough to remind you you’d had too much to drink. the world felt like it was swaying beneath you, the soft blur of neon lights and city sounds blending into the haze of alcohol that had settled deep into your bones. you barely noticed the cab pulling up, but mark did. he grimaced the moment he saw the driver, his jaw tightening as he clocked the smirk tugging at the corners of the man’s lips.

“stay here,” he murmured, his voice low as he helped you toward the back seat, his hand resting at the small of your back to steady you. the driver’s smirk grew as you stumbled slightly, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. mark’s patience snapped, his eyes narrowing into a glare that could cut through steel. Without a word, he climbed into the cab beside you, his presence filling the small space in an instant. the driver’s smirk faltered, his bravado crumbling under the weight of mark’s glare, and he turned his eyes to the road, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

“how much has she had to drink?” the driver asked, his tone casual, though there was an undercurrent of something slimy beneath it, something that made mark’s blood boil. “you’re being paid to drive, not make small talk,” mark snapped, his voice sharp enough to make the driver flinch. silence fell over the cab, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional shuffle of the tires against the pavement. you, oblivious to the tension, rested your head back, your eyes fluttering closed as the night swirled around you. you were out of it, the world fading in and out, each moment blurred by the alcohol in your system. you didn’t notice the way mark was watching you, his gaze softening, his features smoothing as he made sure you were okay.

if you had been more aware, you might have seen it for yourself—something tender in the way he looked at you, something protective. it wasn’t the predatory gaze you had come to expect from men, the one that made you feel small and vulnerable, like something to be taken. no, this was different. this gaze made you feel watched over, cared for. like, for the first time, you weren’t alone. “you’re taking me home?” you slurred, your voice breaking through the fog as you turned to him, disrupting his thoughts. mark glanced down at you, his brow furrowing for a second before he nodded. “yeah,” he said softly, “gonna make sure you get there safely, then i’ll head back.”

you frowned, your eyes half-lidded as you tried to focus on him. “you’re being too nice,” you murmured, your words a little wobbly, childlike. he chuckled, the sound low and rich, a warmth that spread through your chest despite the alcohol’s numbing grip. “this is just the tip of the iceberg,” he replied, teasing but gentle. the cab pulled over in front of your building, the harsh overhead light inside flickering slightly as mark handed the driver his money, glaring one last time before slamming the door shut behind him. he helped you out, his arm around your waist as he guided you toward the entrance. you leaned into him, your steps unsteady, but his grip was firm, holding you upright, never letting you fall.

when you reached your apartment door, you fumbled for your keys, your fingers clumsy as they searched through your bag. you couldn’t find them, frustration bubbling up in your chest, but before you could say anything, he reached in and pulled the keys out for you. he unlocked the door, holding it open as you stumbled inside, expecting—fearing—that this was when things would change. this was when history would repeat itself, when he would become just like the others, just like every man who had ever taken advantage of you in your weakest moments. but it never happened.

instead, he pulled you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt both firm and soft, his warmth seeping into your skin. the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of alcohol, filling your senses. there was no pressure in the way he held you, no expectation. just comfort. when he pulled away, he bent slightly at the knees, his eyes level with yours as he spoke, his voice soft but clear. “get some rest, okay?” he said, pausing as his gaze flickered over your face. “we have work tomorrow.”

you nodded, your body too tired, too heavy to respond with anything more. he gave you one final smile, that same smile that had put you at ease earlier in the night, and then he turned on his heel, walking away without looking back. you stood there in your apartment, the door closing softly behind him, your mind struggling to piece together what had just happened. you had expected a lot, but not this. not someone who cared without asking for anything in return. not someone who saw you for more than just how you looked.

the pounding in your head felt like it would split your skull in two. you groaned, dragging yourself upright, the weight of exhaustion heavy in your limbs. the throbbing didn’t let up as you stumbled into the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face in a futile attempt to chase away the hangover. the mirror reflected a face you barely recognized—dark circles under your eyes, skin pale and drawn. it was a far cry from the pristine, polished image you had to maintain in front of the cameras. right now, you were just tired. so tired.

you grabbed the bottle of painkillers from the medicine cabinet, shaking two pills into your hand and downing them with a gulp of water. the cold liquid soothed your dry throat, but it did little to chase away the hollow ache settling in your chest. you drank another glass, hoping it would make you feel less fragile, less breakable. your hands trembled as you set the glass down, the weight of the night before pressing on you, heavy and inescapable.

you wandered back to your bed, sinking into the comfort of the soft sheets, pulling them around you as if they could shield you from the world. but the world had already broken in. with a sigh, you reached for your phone, not ready but too curious to resist. you needed a distraction, something to pull you out of this haze. but as the screen lit up, you felt your stomach lurch. the first headline caught your eye, and the blood drained from your face as you read it.

your dark past—an anonymous ex airing out the ugly details of a relationship you thought you had buried years ago. the words stared back at you, cold and unforgiving, and each one cut deeper than the last. attention-seeking slut, slept her way through the scene and life itself. the accusations swirled around you, each one a dagger to the chest, every headline worse than the one before. it felt like the world was closing in, shrinking around you until there was nowhere left to hide.

you scrolled through the article, your hands shaking, your breath coming faster as the memories you had tried so hard to forget were dragged back into the light. this was worse than anything you could’ve imagined. you had been bracing yourself for the usual scandals—the kind of things models made headlines for. a wardrobe malfunction, a bad night out, maybe a ridiculous diet rumor. but this? this felt personal. too personal. and the worst part was, it was all out there, for everyone to see. you kept scrolling, hoping there was some way to stop the flood of accusations, but it didn’t stop. it never did. your heart pounded in your chest as the articles piled on, one after another, each one worse than the last. you reached the bottom of the page, bracing yourself for another wave of vitriol—but what you found was something different.

a response from your company. you froze, your breath catching in your throat as you saw the name attached to the statement—mark lee. your fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before you clicked. his words were like a lifeline, pulling you out of the darkness for just a second. “her past has nothing to do with her present, her career or her heart,” he had stated firmly. “anyone making defamatory statements will face legal action.”

it was a short, direct statement, but it hit you like a bolt of lightning. mark had acted fast—so fast that it stunned you. you hadn’t even had the chance to process what was happening, but he had already stepped in to protect you, to shield you from the fallout. your company hadn’t hung you out to dry. he hadn’t hung you out to dry. and it wasn’t even morning yet. you let the phone slip from your hand, your heart still racing, but for a different reason now. mark hadn’t just stood by and watched as your name got dragged through the mud. he had taken action, defended you without hesitation. the weight of last night’s events came rushing back—the way he’d walked you home, the way he had been so kind, so careful, without expecting anything in return. and now, this.

how had he managed to do it so quickly, without so much as a second thought? how had he known to step in before things got even worse? you didn’t know, but what you did know was that mark wasn’t like the others. he wasn’t just your new manager. he was someone who had your back. the room felt too quiet, too still, as you lay there, staring up at the ceiling. you couldn’t believe this was the impression you were leaving behind—a model being defended for her humanity rather than her appearance. a woman with someone in her corner, fighting for her, when she had never expected it.

you pulled the front door shut behind you, squinting at the early morning sun filtering through the leaves, casting soft dappled light across the pavement. you adjusted your sunglasses, preparing yourself for the day, your mind still tangled with the weight of the headlines and mark’s words from last night. but as you stepped down the front stairs, something caught your eye—a car parked just a few feet away. the sleek black paint gleamed under the sunlight, and as your eyes adjusted, you saw him. mark, leaning casually against the hood, a small, gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips. “you look like you could use a ride,” he said, his voice carrying over the stillness of the morning.

your heart fluttered, the ease in his tone making the heaviness in your chest feel a little lighter. was it possible for someone to be this kind, this genuine, without asking for anything in return? you hesitated for a moment, still unsure, still caught in the confusion of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. “are you sure?” you asked, trying to mask the uncertainty in your voice. mark rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, but that smile never wavered. “just get in,” he said, moving to the passenger side and pulling the door open for you. he gestured toward the seat, a playful look in his eyes, like he couldn’t understand why you were hesitating.

you gave in, sliding into the car, letting the plush leather seat envelop you. the inside was immaculate—black leather, clean lines, the scent of something warm and subtle, maybe sandalwood, lingering in the air. it was the kind of car that screamed understated elegance, not the flashy, attention-grabbing kind you were used to seeing in this city. everything about it felt intentional, like mark himself, composed and thoughtful without ever needing to prove anything.

as he settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine, you kept your gaze forward, unable to meet his eyes. shame clung to you like a second skin, the weight of yesterday’s headlines still too fresh. but you could feel his eyes on you, watching you in that quiet, gentle way that made you feel both seen and safe. the silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words, until mark’s voice broke through. “you saw, didn’t you?” his tone was soft, almost apologetic, like he wished you didn’t have to bear the weight of it.

you swallowed hard, your throat tight as you nodded. “thank you,” you murmured, surprising yourself with how much you meant it. “i’m sorry you had to see those comments.” he paused, pulling out of the driveway, his eyes flicking toward you for a moment before returning to the road. “i can’t believe you’re the one apologizing,” he said, his voice laced with disbelief.

you frowned, confused by his response. “you were the one who had to deal with it,” you said, your voice a little firmer now. “you had to read those comments, engage with them.” mark glanced at you again, just for a second, but there was something in his gaze—something that made your heart ache, though you couldn’t quite place why. “you’re the one they were talking about,” he said quietly, the weight of his words sinking into the air between you.

you bit your lip, the familiar shame rising in your chest. “they didn’t lie about much,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. mark’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “what do you mean?” your fingers fidgeted in your lap, the memories of your past flickering in your mind like painful old photographs. “i slept around when i was younger,” you said, the words tasting bitter as they left your mouth. “i was ashamed. thought i was being loved, but it was the opposite.”

the silence that followed felt deafening. you braced yourself, preparing for the inevitable—a lecture, a judgment, the same disgust you had faced so many times before. you could almost hear the harsh words before they even came, could feel the sting of the shame that would follow. but instead, what came was something else entirely. “so what?” mark asked, his tone matter-of-fact, as if it were the most inconsequential thing in the world. you blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “what?” you asked, your voice small, barely able to comprehend what you had just heard.

he shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “you live, you learn. you make mistakes and move on from them. what about it? why would i hate you for it instead of hunting down those assholes one by one?” you were shocked. completely and utterly floored. you had spent so long believing that your past made you disgusting, that no one could ever look at you the same if they knew. and yet here was mark, looking at you like none of it mattered—like none of it could ever change how he saw you.

“you don’t think i’m disgusting?” you asked, your voice breaking just a little, your heart in your throat. he let out a dry laugh, the kind that held no real humor, only disbelief. “i could never think that about you,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around you like a balm. the tears that had been threatening to spill over finally broke free, but this time they weren’t out of shame. for the first time in a long time, they were tears of relief. a small smile broke through the sadness, and you turned your head to the window, letting the tears fall in silence, feeling something you hadn’t felt in years.

mark’s presence felt like a shield as the crowd of paparazzi closed in around you, their cameras flashing incessantly. you could feel their hands tugging at your sleeves, jostling to get closer, to snap that perfect shot. their voices were a blur, shouting questions, making demands, their lights blinding you through your sunglasses. you froze, feeling trapped in the chaos, your breath catching in your throat.

but he was there, right beside you, his body tense and protective. his arm wrapped around you, and with a low, dangerous tone, he snapped, “back off.” his patience seemed to have worn thin, and his words cut through the air like a knife. the paparazzi hesitated, a few taking a step back, but some were still relentless. mark didn’t falter. he shifted, his hand moving to shield your face from the barrage of cameras, guiding you firmly toward the studio door. no one was getting a glimpse of you—not today, not like this.

by the time you made it inside, your head was spinning, your heart pounding in your chest. you felt exposed, even though he had done everything he could to protect you. as the door clicked shut behind you, the noise from outside was silenced, leaving only the soft hum of the studio’s air conditioning and the quiet, comforting sound of mark’s breathing beside you. “thank you,” you murmured, your voice small, barely audible. his smile was soft, but it reached his eyes as he reached up, gently sliding your sunglasses to the top of your head. his fingers brushed your hair back, and then, with the same tenderness, he removed the mask from your face, revealing the features you’d hidden from the world. “look at you,” he said quietly, his voice warm, “so pretty.”

it was a compliment, but not the kind that made you feel objectified or cheapened. it wasn’t the kind of praise you’d grown accustomed to—words that were always laced with lust, with ulterior motives. this felt different. it felt sweet, genuine. you smiled, feeling the weight of the world lift just a little as you savored the softness of his touch. before you could respond, the director called you into the room. you walked together, side by side, mark never leaving your side. his hand hovered protectively at your back, tracing small, soothing circles that grounded you. the nerves that had gripped you so tightly just moments ago began to ease, the tension in your shoulders melting away with each gentle motion.

as you entered the room, the director didn’t waste any time. “so, about the scandal,” he began, his voice clinical, detached, like it was just another problem to solve. “we need to do damage control.” his gaze flickered between you and mark, and you could feel the weight of his scrutiny. “what do you have in mind?” mark asked, his voice calm, though you could sense the tension simmering beneath the surface.

the director’s next words were like a punch to the gut. “a blind date,” he said, his tone as if it were the most logical solution in the world. “with someone just as famous and prestigious. it’ll take the heat off the story.” your heart sank, your throat closing up. you wanted to object, to say something, anything, but your voice betrayed you. you couldn’t get the words out. why was it always like this? why did you always lose your voice when men made decisions about your life? why did you always fall first, always bend to their will?

but this time, mark spoke up for you. “no,” he said firmly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “she’s not gonna do that.” the director shot him a sharp glance, his brow furrowing in annoyance. “what makes you so sure?” he asked, a hint of challenge in his voice.

he scoffed, the warmth in his expression fading as his hand dropped from your back. “i’m her manager,” he said, his tone cold. “i’m not gonna let you pimp her out to the press over a scandal.” you blinked, stunned by his words. you tugged at his sleeve, trying to get him to stop, terrified that he was digging his own grave by standing up for you. you couldn’t bear the thought of him losing everything because of you, of him falling short just like everyone else had. but he didn’t budge. the director removed his glasses, staring him down. “watch your tone,” he warned, his voice low. “you’re only here because of jaehyun.”

mark smiled, but it wasn’t the warm, playful smile he usually gave you. it was something harder, more condescending, though when he looked at you, that hardness softened. “i’m not,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “i’m here because of her.” his words made your heart skip a beat, a smile tugging at your lips despite the tension in the room.

the director scoffed, clearly unimpressed. “is that so?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. when mark simply nodded in response, the director leaned back in his chair, considering for a moment before speaking again. “fine. then you’ll date her. make it convincing for the cameras.” shock washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless. your eyes widened, your mind reeling. date him? publicly? it was absurd, and yet you couldn’t find your voice to object. you were frozen in place, trying to process what had just been said.

the director dismissed you both with a wave of his hand, as though you were mere pawns in his game. as you left the room, you could feel the anger radiating off mark. not at you, never at you, but at the way the director had reduced you to a tool, something to be used for publicity. it made his blood boil, and you could see it in the tightness of his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “i’m sorry,” he said as you walked down the hallway together, his voice low, filled with frustration.

you stopped, turning to face him. “you gotta stop apologizing,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his. “i’d rather be your fake girlfriend than anyone else’s.” his lips curved into a small, almost sad smile, but it wasn’t convincing. you could see the guilt still weighing on him, the anger still simmering beneath the surface. but he nodded, accepting your words, even if he couldn’t fully believe them himself. and despite everything, despite the absurdity of the situation, you couldn’t help but smile, too.

the photoshoot dawned bright and clear, the studio awash with sunlight that filtered through large, high windows. the space was a hive of activity, filled with the muted hum of chatter and the clinking of equipment. the walls were adorned with a pristine white backdrop that could be transformed into any setting the imagination could conjure. spotlights were carefully positioned to cast a flattering glow, creating a perfect balance between shadow and light.

you arrived once more feeling a mix of trepidation and anticipation. the scandal was still fresh, its edges raw and jagged, but you tried to set it aside, focusing on the task ahead. the concept for the shoot was a glamorous vintage look—a nostalgic nod to the old hollywood starlets, with a modern twist. the wardrobe was exquisite: a shimmering gown in deep emerald green that hugged your figure before flaring out into a dramatic skirt. the bodice was adorned with delicate beadwork that caught the light with every movement, creating a subtle sparkle that seemed to dance across your skin. your hair was styled in voluminous waves, cascading down your back with a glossy sheen. the makeup was equally flawless—classic winged eyeliner and a nude lip, complemented by a subtle, radiant glow on your cheeks. as you stepped in front of the camera, you felt the energy of the room shift. the crew's murmurs fell silent as they focused on their work, adjusting lights and angles to best capture the vision. mark was there, of course, standing just off to the side. his gaze was fixed on you, and in that moment, it felt as though he was the only person in the room who truly saw you.

the photographer directed you with practiced ease, calling for different poses and expressions. you moved fluidly, slipping into character with a grace that felt almost effortless. the camera clicked rhythmically, its shutter capturing each fleeting moment of your performance. you felt a growing confidence, bolstered by the soft, encouraging murmurs from the crew.

throughout it all, mark’s eyes never strayed from you. his gaze was unwavering, filled with a tenderness that spoke volumes. it wasn’t just that he was watching; he was absorbing, cherishing each glance, each expression. his eyes held a warmth that transcended mere admiration. there was a softness, a depth that suggested he saw something in you that went beyond the surface, beyond the glittering gown and the carefully applied makeup. as the photographer called for a brief break, he approached, his footsteps light, his expression a mix of admiration and something deeper.

he reached out, gently adjusting a stray strand of hair from your face with a touch that was both respectful and intimate. “you’re doing incredible,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm against the backdrop of the studio’s ambient noise. “you’ve got this natural grace about you.” his words were more than just praise; they were a recognition of your essence, of the way you moved and carried yourself. you could see it in his eyes—his admiration was palpable, sincere. it was a gaze that lingered with affection, with a hint of something that bordered on reverence.

the photographer resumed the shoot, and with each click of the camera, mark’s gaze followed, unwavering. there was no objectification in his stare, no hint of lust or superficial desire. instead, it was as though he was seeing you for who you truly were—a person who, despite the chaos and scandal, was captivating, beautiful, and worthy of admiration. there was someone who saw past the headlines and the flashing cameras, who saw you as more than just a face on a magazine cover.

when the session finally concluded, and you stepped away from the set, you felt a profound sense of relief and accomplishment. mark was there to offer you a genuine smile, one that spoke of pride and support. “you were amazing today,” he said, his voice laced with admiration. “i’m really proud of you.” you couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you that had little to do with the shoot and everything to do with the way he looked at you.

“so, see you tomorrow?” he asked, his tone warm, laced with a hint of casual curiosity. you hesitated, a fleeting moment of uncertainty crossing your mind. “actually,” you began, “would you like to get lunch with me now? i mean, if you’re not too busy, of course.” you trailed off, feeling a pang of self-consciousness. “i don’t want to impose or sound desperate,” you added quickly, feeling the need to clarify.

mark’s smile widened, a reassuring glimmer in his eyes. “i’d love to,” he replied. “it’s no imposition at all. let’s go.” you felt a wave of relief wash over you as he guided you towards his car. outside, the sun was beginning its descent, casting a golden hue over the city streets. mark’s car—a sleek, black luxury sedan with tinted windows—stood out in the midst of the bustling parking lot. it had an understated elegance, the kind that spoke of both comfort and refinement. the interior was plush, with leather seats that exuded a sense of sophistication.

he opened the door for you and, once you were settled inside, slid into the driver’s seat with practiced ease. his movements were smooth and confident, and as he started the engine, you noticed his demeanor had shifted. he was more focused, more protective, shielding you from the cameras that lingered at the studio’s entrance. his eyes remained sharp, scanning the area to ensure you weren’t bothered.

the drive to the restaurant was marked by a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional hum of street traffic. mark took a scenic route, passing through tree-lined streets and past elegant boutiques, showcasing a side of the city that felt both serene and refined. you glanced at him occasionally, catching glimpses of his profile illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights.

eventually, you arrived at a spot tucked away in a quieter part of the city. its exterior was a blend of modern chic and classic charm, with large windows framed by delicate drapery and a welcoming sign that hinted at the warm atmosphere inside. mark escorted you in, and the hostess, recognizing him, offered a discreet nod and led you to a cozy corner table away from the prying eyes of the street. the restaurant exuded a quiet elegance—soft ambient lighting, tasteful decor featuring muted colors, and a faint, inviting aroma of gourmet dishes being prepared. as you settled into your seat, mark pulled out a chair for you with a courteous gesture, his attention never straying far from you.

over the course of the meal, the conversation flowed easily. his presence was soothing, and his attentive listening made you feel at ease. the menu offered a range of refined dishes, and you both opted for light, comforting fare—fresh salads, tender grilled fish, and a selection of artisanal bread. the food was delicious, but it was the company that truly made the experience special. as you ate, you found yourself opening up to mark in a way you hadn’t anticipated. “you know,” you began, your voice tentative but earnest, “i’ve been used all my life. it’s like people see me as something to exploit, and it’s only made them think less of me.”

mark’s eyes softened as he listened, his gaze attentive and caring. he didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to offer empty reassurances. instead, he simply took in your words, his expression reflecting a mix of empathy and understanding. “i’m sorry you’ve had to go through that,” he said quietly. “no one deserves to be treated that way.”

you felt a lump form in your throat as his words sank in. the vulnerability you had shared was met with genuine compassion, something you hadn’t expected. mark reached across the table, his hand extending to yours with a tender, reassuring touch. “use me,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “use me until you love yourself.”

you were stunned, the weight of his words leaving you momentarily speechless. the promise in his voice was profound, a gesture of support that went beyond mere words. you stared at him, trying to process the depth of his offer. but before you could respond, his hands enveloped yours in a gentle embrace. in that moment, you were acutely aware of the contrast between the performance you had to put on and the genuine connection you were experiencing. the touch of his hands, the way he stroked your fingers with a tenderness that was both comforting and intimate, spoke of something deeper. it was as though the boundaries of your staged relationship were dissolving, giving way to a reality that was more genuine than you had anticipated.

the conversation continued, but the focus shifted to lighter topics. you both shared stories and laughter, the tension of the earlier events seeming to melt away. mark’s presence was a balm, soothing your frayed nerves and providing a sense of security you hadn’t known you needed. as the meal came to an end, he paid the bill, his hand still holding yours as you walked out. the sun had set, and the city lights were beginning to twinkle, casting a warm glow over the streets. you were acutely aware of the contrast between the authenticity of your time with him and the world outside, which seemed to linger with its judgment and scrutiny.

when you reached his car, he opened the door for you once more, his touch gentle and respectful. as you settled back into the plush interior, you couldn’t help but reflect on the day’s events. the lines between your staged relationship and the genuine affection you felt were blurring, and while you knew that you were still performing for the cameras, the moments of sincerity you shared with him were undeniable.

as he drove you back to your house, the evening air outside was crisp, a gentle reminder that the day was drawing to a close. the glow of streetlights cast a warm, comforting light through the windows of the car, creating a cocoon of serenity around you both. the drive was quiet, filled with a comfortable silence that spoke volumes more than words could. when you arrived at your front door, he walked with you, his presence a steady comfort against the backdrop of your otherwise solitary home. the hallway was lit, adding a soft ambiance to the moment. he stopped at your door, his expression softening into a genuine smile as he wished you a good night.

but as he turned on his heel to leave, something inside you surged—a reluctance to let him go, a sudden, overwhelming desire for him to stay. “wait,” you called out, your voice barely above a whisper. “spend the night.”

mark paused, his demeanor shifting as he turned back towards you. the smile on his face faltered, and his gaze became serious, filled with a mixture of tenderness and something you couldn’t quite place. “i can’t do that,” he said softly, almost apologetically. your heart sank. Were you so off-putting to him? was he so disgusted by you that he couldn’t even stay? the thought pierced you, and you had to ask, “why?”

his eyes met yours, and despite the gentleness that still lingered, there was an undertone of something raw and sincere. “because,” he began, taking a step closer, “i don’t think i’ll be able to control myself if i do.”

the distance between you was minimal now, so close that you could almost feel the heat radiating off him. his proximity made your heart race, the thump in your chest loud enough that you thought he might hear it. you swallowed hard, struggling to understand why you felt this way, why he was so close yet seemingly so far. “there are no cameras,” you reminded him, your voice trembling slightly as you attempted to reassure him of the privacy you both had.

mark chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that made your breath catch. “i don’t care about the cameras,” he said, his voice a soothing murmur. “it’s not about that.” the weight of his words, the gentle touch, and the unspoken emotions that seemed to fill the space between you made you feel a sudden surge of vulnerability. you hated yourself for feeling so exposed, for being so willing to give in, to risk it all, and to let someone see you so completely.

in that vulnerable moment, driven by an impulse you couldn’t quite control, you closed the distance between you and pressed your lips to his. it was a kiss filled with raw emotion, a desperate plea for connection. to your surprise, mark’s response wasn’t fueled by lust or urgency. Instead, his kiss was tender, patient, as though he was savoring every second. his hands cupped your face with a gentle care, his lips moving against yours with a softness that spoke of deep affection rather than fleeting desire.

when he finally pulled away, it was with a smile that seemed to reflect genuine fondness. “look at you,” he cooed, his fingers lightly ruffling your hair. “so cute.” you frowned slightly, still trying to process the unexpected tenderness. as he leaned against the doorway, his smile widening, you asked, “are you gonna leave?”

mark shook his head, his eyes gleaming with a playful warmth. “no way,” he murmured, his voice filled with determination. “someone has to make sure you get some rest.” the way he spoke, the care in his actions, almost felt surreal. it was as if the affection he showed was almost too good to be true. yet, as he stepped inside, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, you felt the house grow warmer, more inviting with his presence.

he watched you from the couch as you moved around the kitchen, preparing tea. the dim light from the overhead fixture cast a soft glow over you, highlighting the delicate way your hands trembled as you worked. he noticed how thin you looked, the hollowness of your cheeks and the way your clothes hung loosely on your frame. it made him wonder whether this was always the way you were or if it was a consequence of the relentless demands of your career.

“do you need help?” he asked, his voice filled with concern as he stood up and walked toward you. the distance between you seemed to shrink with every step he took. as he approached, he gently took hold of your wrists, guiding your hands to pour the boiling water over the tea bags. the warmth of the steam contrasted sharply with the coldness he felt in his chest as he observed your fragile state.

you turned to face him as you finished, giving him a soft, appreciative smile. “thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. he could see the tremors in your hands, which you tried to hide by gripping the mug tightly. “you’re shaking,” he said gently. “shouldn’t you eat more?”

a sad smile crossed your lips as you shrugged. “i should be eating less.” mark’s smile faded, and he set the mugs back on the table with a determined clink. the realization hit him hard, the idea that you were expected to adhere to a standard that demanded you to shrink, not only in size but in presence. it was unfathomable to him that someone as perfect as you should be subjected to such dehumanizing expectations.

“why did you take up such a job?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and concern. as you sipped your tea, you reflected on the question, your eyes distant as if searching for the right words. “everybody likes the surface,” you said, your smile fragile. “nobody cares about what goes beyond it. it’s always been like that, so i may as well get some money out of it.”

mark’s heart ached at the thought of you being reduced to eye candy, your worth dictated by your appearance rather than your true self. the notion that your life’s goal was to be admired rather than valued for who you were made him sick. “quit your job,” he said abruptly, the words escaping before he could fully process them. you looked at him in shock, the tea still hot on your tongue. “are you crazy?” you asked, incredulous.

he shook his head, his expression earnest but troubled. “quit your job,” he repeated. “you should be doing something you love instead of being everything you hate about yourself.” his words carried a raw truth that stung deeply. no one had ever told you to quit before; it had always been about encouragement, about pushing through. his opposition was startling because it was clear he saw you for more than just your looks, something no one else had done. it clicked for you then—mark was the only person who seemed to understand and care about the essence of who you were beyond the superficial.

“you mean it?” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of hope and disbelief. he didn’t answer with words but instead set his tea down and leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a gentle kiss. the contact was so tender that it made your knees weak, tears threatening to spill over. it was a kiss devoid of urgency, filled with care and an earnest desire to comfort.

when he finally pulled away, his frown deepened at the sight of your tear-filled eyes. “how could anyone be cruel to you?” he murmured, his voice filled with sorrow. “so cruel that you cry at the slightest affection?”

your tears began to fall freely, unable to hold them back any longer. mark, seeing the depth of your pain, gathered you into his arms without hesitation. “don’t cry,” he whispered, though it was the exact thing that made you let go, burying your face in his chest as the tears flowed. he held you tightly, his arms a sanctuary from the world’s cruelties. cry, he thought, let it all out. as if sensing his silent encouragement, you did just that, clinging to him as you let your emotions pour out. for the first time, you felt truly cared for, not for how you looked but for who you were.

as you pulled back from him, your eyes still glistening with the remnants of tears, he reached up with his rough fingers to tenderly brush them away. his touch was surprisingly gentle, the contrast between the coarseness of his hands and the softness of his touch creating an intimacy that felt both intimate and profound. small, reassuring smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he looked at you, his gaze filled with an affection that was deeply comforting.

you leaned in to kiss him again, but this time, it was different. the kiss was infused with a hunger that transcended the need for love or the fear of loneliness. it was driven by a genuine feeling of being cherished, an intensity that came from truly feeling valued. the kiss full of passion, and you could hear the heavy breaths escaping from him, proof of the fervor that both of you were experiencing. despite the heat between you, mark pulled away, his face flushed, and his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“don’t,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, their closeness adding to the depth of his emotions. the word was almost a plea, a desperate attempt to maintain control despite the overwhelming feelings. you frowned, confused and yearning for more. “why?” you asked, your voice laced with vulnerability.

he shook his head, his fingers gently stroking your hair in a soothing motion. “i don’t wanna be like them,” he whispered. “i don’t wanna break you.”

the sincerity in his voice was audible, his hesitation evident in the way he caressed your hair. the thought of him being so considerate, so concerned about not causing you pain, only made you feel even more secure and cherished. you took a step back, but his fingers remained entangled in your hair, a subtle reminder of his presence and his care. “break me,” you encouraged softly, your eyes locked onto his. “i’m yours to break.”

the words hung in the air, laden with an openness that surprised even yourself. mark’s hesitation deepened. he was overwhelmed by your fragility, the softness in your eyes, and the way you looked at him with such trust. he didn’t want to cause you any harm, didn’t want you to feel used or sullied. “i don’t want you to feel used,” he admitted, his voice betraying his internal conflict. the tenderness in his voice and the way he looked at you with such genuine concern only made you feel more at ease. you didn’t respond verbally; instead, you kissed him again, your hands exploring the contours of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the fabric.

his resolve wavered as he felt the intensity of your touch. his initial urge to hold back dissolved as you made it difficult for him to resist. his arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his lap, never breaking the kiss. in his mind, he battled with the thought of being gentle versus the desire to give in fully to the moment. his struggle was open, yet he knew he could be gentle, that he could offer you the care and affection you deserved. his thoughts raced as he navigated this delicate balance, his love and concern for you making him want to be as gentle as possible while also embracing the passion that surged between you.

his hands moved from your hair to your shoulders, then down to your breasts, cupping the small mounds of flesh tenderly. you gasped into the kiss as his thumbs brushed over your sensitive nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. his touch grew bolder, kneading and caressing, as you arched into his palms, your desire growing more urgent. the fabric of your shirt was the only barrier, and it was clear that it wouldn’t be enough for much longer.

mark felt your urgency, and his own desire grew stronger. he broke the kiss to gaze into your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or fear. all he saw was the same trust and need that had been there before. with trembling hands, he began to unbutton your shirt, one button at a time, his eyes never leaving yours. the anticipation was present, a heady mix of excitement and emotion that made your heart race. as he undid the last button, his eyes shamefully drifted to the sides of your shirt covering your bare breasts, but he didn’t have time to feel shame, not when he wanted you to feel loved.

his hands slid inside your shirt, pushing the fabric aside to expose your soft, perfect skin. he took a moment to just look, his breath hitching at the sight of your nipples, pebbled and begging for his touch. his eyes filled with tears, not of pain or regret, but of pure love and the depth of his feelings. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice cracking with emotion. you didn’t speak; instead, you leaned in to kiss him again, this time more urgently, your tongue dancing with his, as your hands found the hem of his shirt, eager to feel his bare chest against yours.

his own shirt was soon discarded, and you both sat there, breathing heavily, skin to skin. his strong hands continued to massage your breasts, his thumbs playing with your sensitive peaks, driving you wild with every touch. your own hands roamed over his shoulders, his arms, feeling the strength and warmth of his body. the connection between you was sickening, a silent conversation of love and lust that didn’t need words. “fuck,” you exhaled as his thumbs danced around your erect nipples, kneading the thin flesh of your breasts. you felt ashamed for a second, ashamed at the lack of what you had to offer him, at the dainty size of your breasts. you felt the need to cover up, to hide yourself from him, thinking it wouldn't be enough for him to enjoy. you crossed your arms over your small breasts, a shy look of embrassment in your face, but mark wasn’t having any of it.

his hands gently moved yours aside. “no, baby, don’t hide from me,” he whispered, his eyes filled with adoration. “you’re perfect. absolutely perfect. i love every inch of you, these too,” he said, tracing his fingers over your breasts again. his words were like a balm to your insecurities, a gentle caress to your ego. his warm mouth found one of your nipples, suckling it with surprising gentleness. the sensation was like a lightning bolt straight to your core, and you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. your hands found his hair, threading through the soft strands as he worked his magic on your breasts. the way he looked at you, like you were the most precious thing in the world, made you feel so cherished, so loved. you lacked what other girls could easily offer him, yet he didn’t seem to care.

his other hand found its way down your body, tracing the curve of your waist, over your hips, and down to the button of your pants. with a gentle tug, he encouraged you to lift your hips, allowing him to pull them off. you were now fully exposed to him, vulnerable in a way that was thrilling and terrifying all at once. his eyes took in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your bare pussy, glistening with arousal. he groaned, his own desire thick in the air. “so beautiful,” he murmured, his hand moving to touch you lightly.

his fingertips grazed your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. you moaned, unable to hold back the sound, your legs spreading wider to give him better access. he took his time, teasing and exploring, his touch as tender as if you were made of the most delicate glass. he parted your folds, his finger sliding in easily, feeling the slickness of your arousal. you were so wet for him, and the sight of his finger disappearing into you made him even harder. “you’re so ready for me, fuck, like you were made for me,” he said, his voice full of wonder.

his thumb continued to circle your clit as his finger began to move in and out, his pace increasing gradually. your hips rocked in sync with his movements, the pleasure building inside you like a crescendo. he watched your face, reading your every expression, ensuring that he was giving you exactly what you needed. his eyes never left yours, filled with a fierce love and protection that made your heart swell. you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your breath coming in short gasps, but he wasn’t done yet. he needed to feel you, to have you with him filling you up to the brim.

mark leaned back, his eyes never leaving yours as he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and slid them off. his cock, hard and demanding, sprang free, and you couldn’t help but stare. he was big, much bigger than you had anticipated, and the sight of him made you both nervous and incredibly turned on. he noticed your gaze and smirked slightly, a hint of pride flashing in his eyes. “aren’t scared, are you?” he asked playfully, his voice a seductive whisper.

you shook your head, trying to play it cool despite the nervousness that bubbled up inside you. “not at all,” you lied, your voice a little shaky. he chuckled, his hand moving to stroke himself slowly, the sight of his hand on his cock making your stomach flip. “you sure?” he questioned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. you nodded, your eyes locked onto his hand, watching the way his shaft grew even more as he touched himself. no matter how scared you were, you knew he would take care of you.

mark leaned in, his mouth capturing yours again, his kiss gentle yet filled with a burning need. you felt his hand move away from your pussy and the loss of his touch made you whine into the kiss. but the sound was soon muffled by his groan as he pulled away, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance. the tip of his dick was slick with precum, and you felt a thrill of anticipation as he pushed against you, just the tip teasing you. it had barely grazed your slit, yet you were soaking around him, the sight of it only clouding his mind even more.

his eyes searched yours for any sign of doubt, but all he saw was the same eagerness that reflected his own. with a deep breath, he pushed in, inch by inch, his big cock stretching you wider than you’ve ever been. it was a delicious pain, a sweet agony that you couldn’t get enough of. your nails dug into his shoulders as he filled you up, his gentle strokes becoming deeper, more insistent. your walls tightened around him, trying to hold onto his length as if afraid to let go. “you’re okay, baby, just hold on,” he encouraged softly as you whined, nails clawing at his skin.

his praise, his tenderness, it all felt so overwhelming that tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes. it was too much, too beautiful, and it hurt in the most exquisite way. you nodded, your breath hitching as he reached down to kiss you again, his tongue delving into your mouth as his cock pushed deeper into your pussy. your moans grew louder as he found a rhythm that had you writhing in his lap, your body moving with the gentle ebb and flow of his hips. “look at you, taking me so well,” he cooed at the sight of his cock tucked into the swell of your cunt, his fingers grazing the small creases of your breasts as you tightened around him.

his strokes grew more deliberate, his movements more powerful, yet never crossing the line into roughness. he was worried that his size might be too much for you, so he held back, trying to give you as much pleasure as possible without causing any discomfort. but you could feel the tension in his body, the restraint that was clear in every line of his face, the cords of his neck standing out as he held back. you didn’t want that; you wanted all of him, the beast that lurked beneath his tender exterior. “i can take it, break me, please,” you panted. his hands reached down, your hands wrapping around his, urging him to go deeper, to move faster.

his eyes searched yours, looking for confirmation, and what he saw there was all he needed. he let go of the last of his restraint, his hips moving with more force. your pussy stretched around his thick cock, the feeling of fullness making you dizzy. each thrust was met with a wet slap, the sound echoing in the quiet room, mingling with your cries of pleasure. your walls clenched around him, trying to hold onto him, to keep him deep inside you, to never let him go. his thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles that had you bucking your hips, trying to get closer, trying to get more. he was so sweet, his hair tickling your skin as he wrapped his tongue around your nipple, his tongue probing at the flesh. you wanted to feel insecure, but he was making it impossible.

his hand found yours again, his fingers interlocking with yours, as if to remind you that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere. the connection was strong, and it only grew stronger with each passing moment. your orgasm was approaching like a freight train, and you could feel it building in the pit of your stomach. your breath grew shallower, your eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in the feeling of him inside you. his free hand was in your hair, tugging gently, his teeth grazing your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

his thrusts grew deeper, and the pressure on your g-spot was intense. you felt yourself tightening around him, your pussy gripping him like a vice. “cum for me, baby, cum on my cock,” he whispered in your ear, his voice a seductive rumble that sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body. the words alone were enough to send you over the edge, your climax washing over you like a tidal wave. your body tensed, your pussy pulsing around him as you screamed out his name, your eyes squeezed shut, tears of joy streaming down your face.

his own orgasm was building, the feel of you tightening around him was too much. with one final, deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, groaning as he released his seed, filling you up without a single thought of protection. he watched as your body trembled with the aftershocks of your climax, his heart racing with the intensity of his own feelings. the sight of you, coming apart in his arms, was more than he could handle. his own eyes filled with tears, his love for you so overwhelming that he couldn’t help but cry with you.

he held you tightly as he pulled out, his cock still hard and glistening with your juices. his hand moved to stroke your hair, his eyes never leaving your face. “i love you,” he whispered, the words coming out in a choked sob. the weight of his emotions was palpable, and you felt your own heart swell in response. you leaned into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his cum leaking out of you, a testament to the intimacy you had just shared. “i love you too,” you whispered back, your frail fingers wiping away the tears that stained his cheeks.

there was no shame in it anymore. there were no cameras waiting to capture the moment, no witnesses. there was nobody but the two of you. there were no mocking looks or harsh words to battle your self-esteem, nothing to fuel your insecurities. he was as raw as you were, but he was stronger than you. he didn’t cry because of the sex, he cried because of the love. you weren't too sure about a happy ending just yet, but a beginning was more than you could’ve asked for.

✧*.

a/n: to the doll that requested, hope u know ur absolutely perfect no matter what. never let anybody’s subjective opinion or the standards perpetuated dictate how beautiful you are and how beautiful you should feel. this goes to anybody reading, because i know there’s too many of you scrolling through tiktok and thinking, “why cant i look like that?” or “why do i have hip dips, why doesn’t my ass looks like that, why does she look like that and i don’t?” i promise all of your insecurities are illusions purposely projected by the media to make you give into what they’re feeding you. no, starving yourself won’t make you beautiful. neither will overused lips fillers or heavy botox or that botched bbl. there’s nothing wrong with the way you look, there never was and there never will be. cherish every part of yourself, you never know who may be looking at you and wishing they had what you do.

nct jaehyun with big tit reader pls…

JEONG JAEHYUN (정재현) — TWISTED (18+)

✧

the apartment was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the air conditioning and the rhythmic sweep of the mop across the floor. you moved with practiced precision, your hands gliding over every surface with meticulous care. a flick of your wrist here, a light dusting there—small adjustments that hardly seemed worth noting, but they were. every movement had a purpose, even if it was hidden beneath the veneer of tidying up.

the soft afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. you wiped down the windowsill, straightened the framed photo of you and jaehyun on the shelf with a smug glint in your eyes, and smoothed out the creases in the bedsheets. the apartment, as always, was immaculate, the kind of clean that only came from constant upkeep. but today, the cleaning wasn’t really about cleanliness. it was about preparation.

you paused by the desk, fingers brushing over the cool surface. between the neatly arranged pencil holders and stacks of paperwork, you slipped in a small camera, positioning it just right. a subtle angle, nothing too obvious, but enough to capture every corner of the room. a second camera followed, this one hidden in the far corner, tucked away in the shadows where it wouldn’t be noticed. satisfied, you moved on.

under the bed, you placed a voice recorder, pressing it firmly against the wood, ensuring it was out of sight. there was no room for mistakes, not today. finally, a tiny bug nestled into the corner of the room, blending seamlessly with the décor. you stepped back to admire your work, a slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips. everything was in place.

with a slow, deliberate movement, you tightened the belt around your dress, the soft leather pulling snug against your waist. the fabric draped perfectly, as it always did, every detail considered, every piece of you in control. you reached for the bottle of perfume on the vanity, its familiar scent filling the air as you dabbed it on your wrists. not your favorite scent—his. the one that made him lean in just a little closer, his breath catching for just a second longer.

you adjusted the microphone headset over your ears, the cool metal brushing against your skin. a sip of wine followed, the rich, dark liquid swirling in the glass before you took a slow, savoring taste. the tension in your muscles melted away, replaced by something else, something darker. not stress, not weariness, not betrayal. no, none of those things. what filled you now was a quiet thrill, a heat that coiled low in your stomach, simmering beneath the surface.

without a second glance, you made your way downstairs, the soft click of your heels echoing in the hallway. the receptionist barely looked up as you approached, her hand sliding instinctively to the desk drawer. you slipped her a bundle of cash—thick, well-prepared, without a word exchanged. she nodded, her hand moving to unlock the door behind her. you stepped inside the dimly lit security room, the soft hum of the monitors filling the space around you.

you settled into the chair, your fingers tracing the edge of the wine glass as you watched the screens flicker to life. one by one, the angles of the apartment room came into view, each camera displaying its silent feed. and there he was, as you knew he would be. jaehyun, standing in the corner, his body pressed against someone else. a woman, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms clinging to his back. their lips moved in a frantic, fevered kiss, bodies entwined as if the world outside ceased to exist.

your eyes lingered on the screen, a slow, satisfied smile creeping across your face as you sipped your wine. typical. the scent of your perfume must have hit him, because his movements stilled for just a moment, nostrils flaring as he pulled back from the kiss. but it didn’t matter. even now, with another woman in his arms, your presence haunted him. and that, more than anything, sent a wave of satisfaction through you.

he pressed her harder against the wall, his fingers tangling in her hair, lips grazing her neck. but you didn’t flinch. you didn’t feel the sting of jealousy, didn’t feel your heart shatter at the sight. instead, there was a sick, twisted pleasure in watching him repeat the same motions he did with you. It should have hurt—should have torn you apart—but it didn’t. if anything, it thrilled you.

there was something captivating in watching his desire, watching him pour himself into someone else, knowing full well that no matter how much he took from her, it would never compare to what you gave. he could try, he could chase that feeling, but it would never be the same. not without you. so you let him have his time. let him indulge. and as you sipped your wine, watching the scene unfold before you, you knew that he would always come back. because no one else would ever match what you had.

the security room was dim, the glow of the monitors casting an eerie light over jaehyun’s sharp features. he sat in the worn leather chair, eyes glued to the flickering screens before him. the scent hit him first, thick and sweet like spun sugar, relentless in its sweetness, clinging to every breath he took. your perfume. it was unmistakable, coating the air with a syrupy heaviness that curled around him like a possessive hand. he grunted softly, his fingers gripping the arms of the chair, knuckles whitening as he inhaled deeply, letting the scent overwhelm his senses.

he knew it too well. the fragrance that lingered on your skin after a night out, the same one that would pull him toward you, that made his breath hitch when he buried his face in your neck. but tonight, the thought gnawed at him. was it for him? the way it used to be? or for your lover, the one you disappeared with after slipping out of the apartment when you thought he wasn’t looking?

the lines blurred in his mind, the sharpness between you and him, between you and whoever else had stolen your time, stolen what should have been his. his jaw tightened as he leaned closer to the screen, eyes narrowing. you had set this up. he knew it the moment he stepped into the room, knew it from the way the cameras were positioned. it was so you—calculated, precise, cruel in a way only he could appreciate. he wanted to hate it, to hate you, but instead, a twisted admiration crawled up his spine. this was your game, and he was only too willing to play.

his eyes roamed over the grainy image as you finally appeared on the screen, your figure unmistakable even through the static. you stepped into view, your dress clinging to your body like it was made for you, and jaehyun’s breath hitched again, the scent of your perfume still assaulting his senses. his hand, almost unconsciously, moved to his lap, the tension in his body easing slightly as he spread his legs wider, trying to alleviate the growing ache. but you weren’t alone.

his teeth grazed his bottom lip as he watched, every muscle in his body going rigid as a man stepped into the frame behind you. tall, unfamiliar, hands that gripped you too familiarly, lips that ghosted over the curve of your neck with an urgency that made jaehyun’s skin prickle. the man’s mouth moved against your skin, bruising and licking, leaving marks that jaehyun knew too well—the kind that staked a claim. his pulse quickened, his body reacting before his mind could catch up, a satisfied hiss slipping from his lips. he hated it, the way he was drawn to the sight of you with someone else. hated the way his body responded, the way his fingers twitched to touch the screen, to feel connected to something—anything—that involved you.

dd it feel the same? did the man know what you liked, the way jaehyun did? the way your breath caught when lips hovered over your collarbone, the way your back arched when fingers tangled in your hair. the possessiveness that burned in his chest was primal, instinctual. you were his, even if the world around him screamed otherwise. and then, just for a second—a fleeting moment that almost slipped past him—you paused. your head tilted, and your eyes, dark and knowing, flicked upward. they locked onto the camera. jaehyun’s breath hitched. you knew.

for a moment too long, your gaze didn’t waver. that smirk—the one he had memorized, the one that had undone him more times than he cared to count—curled at the edges of your lips. you weren’t just aware of him. you were showing him. every movement was deliberate, every arch of your neck as the man kissed your skin, every glance toward the lens, every shift in your posture. it was all for him. the realization hit him with the force of a train. this wasn’t about the man with you. he was just a prop, a tool in your hands to provoke the reaction you wanted.

jaehyun exhaled slowly, the tension in his body turning into something else—something deeper, darker. his lips parted, and he muttered under his breath, barely above a whisper, “that’s my girl.” the words felt raw, scraping against his throat, filled with a kind of pride that he hadn’t realized he still held. you knew him too well. better than anyone. you played him like an instrument, each note of your performance calculated to draw out exactly what you wanted from him. and he couldn’t help but admire it, as twisted as it was.

he leaned back in the chair, legs still spread wide, his hand dragging down his face as he let out a slow, steadying breath. his eyes never left the screen, watching as the man pulled you closer, his hands disappearing into your hair, mouth claiming yours in a kiss that should have made jaehyun see red. but he didn’t. he couldn’t. because in that moment, he knew it didn’t matter. none of them mattered.

the way the man touched you, the way he kissed you, it would never come close to the way jaehyun did. he knew you in ways that no one else ever could. you might share your body with someone else, but your mind, your games—they were all his. you left breadcrumbs, and he followed them willingly, drawn into the labyrinth you’d created. another smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched you, his girl, wrapped in another man’s arms, knowing full well you’d never belong to anyone else but him. he would let you play your game, let you dance with whoever you wanted, but in the end, it would always come back to the two of you.

he adjusted his seat, the sick heat of satisfaction settling deep within him. he couldn’t look away from the screen, even if he wanted to. and why would he? you were performing for him, after all. “knows me so well,” he murmured again, his voice a low, reverent sigh as he let his hand drop to his side. his eyes darkened, pupils dilating as he watched you, watched the man touch you, watched you steal glances at the camera. always for him.

the apartment was quiet again, but this time the silence was different—thicker, charged, as if the air itself was holding its breath. you felt it in the way your pulse raced beneath your skin, in the subtle tremor in your fingers as you stood in the middle of the room. he wasn’t far behind. you could hear him, the soft sound of his footsteps growing louder, closer, until the door clicked open behind you. you didn’t turn around. you didn’t need to. you could feel him watching you, his gaze heavy and possessive, the tension between you winding tighter with every passing second.

jaehyun didn’t say a word as he moved closer, the heat of his body pressing against your back. his hands slid around your waist, fingers grazing your hips before traveling upward, the soft fabric of your dress bunching under his touch. his lips found the side of your neck, the same spot where the man’s had been just hours earlier, but jaehyun’s kiss was rougher, more demanding. he bit down lightly, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips, and you could feel him smirk against your skin.

“you must’ve seen us, yeah?” your voice was breathless, words slipping out between shallow pants as his hands tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him. he answered with a low, guttural groan, the sound vibrating against your neck as his mouth moved lower, assaulting your skin with hot, open-mouthed kisses. his breath was ragged, uneven, and you felt the hardness of him pressing against the back of your thighs through his boxers, straining against the fabric. the memory of what he had seen—of you with another man—was still fresh in his mind, fueling every touch, every kiss.

jaehyun’s hand slipped under your dress, fingers trailing down to your panties, and without hesitation, he pushed them aside, his fingers finding the wet heat between your legs. his thumb brushed over your clit, slow at first, teasing, before he began to rub in tight circles, his pace quickening as he leaned into your ear. “every bit of it,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “you gave it to him real good, baby.”

a smirk tugged at your lips as you twisted your fingers into his hair, yanking his head back just enough to force him to look at you. his lips were swollen, glistening with spit, and his eyes—those dark, dangerous eyes—were filled with lust and something darker, something unhinged. you’d always loved that look, the way it made your heart pound, the way it made your core ache for him.

without warning, you slapped him hard across the face, the sharp crack of skin against skin reverberating through the room. the force of it left his cheek red, and the sting of your palm lingered in the air. jaehyun’s lips parted in a shocked gasp, his pupils blown wide as the lust in his eyes deepened into something feral. his hand flexed at your waist, and for a moment, you thought he might lose control completely. instead, he groaned, a low, broken sound that made your stomach clench, and you could feel his cock twitch against you, his boxers impossibly tight. “almost like you expected less of me,” you purred, your voice dripping with satisfaction as you traced the red mark on his cheek, watching the way his breath hitched at your touch. you could feel the power shift between you, feel the way his body reacted to your every word, your every movement.

he didn’t respond with words. instead, his hands moved to your shoulders, shoving you back onto the bed with enough force to make the mattress creak. you let out a sharp moan as your body hit the sheets, your back arching as jaehyun climbed on top of you, his weight pressing you down. he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head as his lips trailed down the curve of your neck, past your collarbone, before they found their way to your breasts.

he groaned as his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, sucking hard, his tongue swirling over the sensitive bud. his other hand cupped your breast, squeezing, kneading, as if he couldn’t get enough of them. “love these so much,” he murmured against your skin, his voice muffled by the fullness of your breast in his mouth. “the other girls, they don’t have ones like this.”

your breath hitched, the praise sending a wave of heat through your body, making your knees weak. but before you could process it, jaehyun released your wrists and leaned up, his hand moving with brutal swiftness as it collided with your cheek in a stinging slap that made your head snap to the side. the sharp pain bloomed across your skin, and instead of recoiling, you moaned, the sound desperate and raw, your body arching toward him in a way that begged for more. “i don’t get to play with them like this,” he smirked, his thumb brushing over your reddened cheek before trailing back down to your chest, his hands claiming your breasts again as if they belonged to him.

your thighs clenched around his waist, hips bucking up against him, desperate for friction, for relief from the ache that had been building inside you from the moment he touched you. his name slipped from your lips in a breathless whisper, a plea that made his smirk widen as he pressed his body down against yours, his erection rubbing against your bare thigh through his boxers. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a hunger that felt primal, unhinged. the kiss was messy, spit slicking your lips as his hands moved down your body, fingers curling around the waistband of your panties before he yanked them off in one rough motion. his fingers returned to your core, probing and rubbing, and every touch was calculated to make you squirm, to elicit the moans he’d missed on camera.

you broke the kiss to gasp for air, your head tipping back as he slid two fingers inside of you, curling them just right, hitting the spot that made you see stars. your legs trembled around him, every nerve in your body lit up with need as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb pressing against your clit in time with each thrust.

“god, jae,” you gasped, your fingers gripping his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan. He loved when you pulled his hair, loved the sting of pain mixed with pleasure. “yeah,” he grunted, his voice low and ragged as he looked up at you, his fingers never slowing. “you like it when i watch, don’t you? see how desperate you are for them.”

you smirked, your body arching off the bed, chasing the pleasure. “i like it when you can’t stop yourself,” you breathed, your voice thick with desire. “when you’re so addicted to me, you can’t even think straight.” his eyes darkened, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver through you as he pulled his fingers from you, leaving you empty and aching. in one swift motion, he shoved his boxers down, his erection springing free, hard and desperate for you. he didn’t hesitate, grabbing your hips and yanking you down the bed before positioning himself between your legs.

he hovered above you for a moment, eyes locked onto yours, the air thick with tension, before he thrust into you, filling you in one hard stroke that knocked the breath from your lungs. you cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as your body adjusted to the sudden fullness, the burn of the stretch only intensifying the pleasure. he groaned, his head falling to your shoulder as he set a brutal pace, his hips slamming into yours with a desperation that bordered on madness. the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, of his ragged breaths and your breathless moans, of the bed creaking under the force of his thrusts.

he buried his face in your neck, biting down hard enough to bruise as he fucked you with reckless abandon, his body shaking with the force of it. you clung to him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your body moving in perfect sync with his, lost in the intensity of the moment, lost in the feeling of him inside of you. jaehyun’s hands moved down to your chest, gripping your breasts with a hunger that made your breath hitch. his fingers dug into the soft flesh, squeezing, kneading, his eyes glued to the way they moved with each hard thrust of his hips. he was obsessed, completely entranced, as if he couldn’t get enough of the way they filled his hands, the way your nipples stood hard and ready for him.

his mouth descended on one of them, his lips hot and wet as he sucked greedily, swirling his tongue around your sensitive nipple before biting down gently, just enough to send a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body. you moaned, your back arching off the bed as his teeth grazed your skin, leaving a red mark in his wake. he groaned against your breast, his hand moving to cup the other one, his thumb flicking over your nipple, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to your core.

“fuck, i love these,” he repeated between kisses, his voice thick with lust, muffled by your skin as he continued to lavish attention on your chest. “they’re so fucking perfect, baby. none of the others—” he paused, his teeth grazing your nipple again, harder this time. “—none of the other girls have tits like this.” you smirked at his words, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you threaded your fingers through his hair, yanking him up to meet your gaze. his lips were wet, spit running down his chin, his eyes wild with need, the dark desire in them so potent it made your stomach flip.

“good,” you panted, your voice breathless but teasing, “because they don’t deserve them.” his cock twitched inside you at that, and you knew you had him. he liked when you reminded him, when you made him see that no matter who he was with, no matter what he did, you were the one he couldn’t let go of. you were the one who owned him.

you ran your hands down his chest, your nails scratching lightly against his skin, leaving faint red lines in their wake. he groaned at the sensation, his hips stuttering slightly as he thrust into you harder, deeper, chasing the release he knew he’d only find with you. “i saw you, you know,” you whispered, your voice thick with a twisted kind of admiration. “you fucked her so well, jae. i was impressed.”

his breath hitched at your praise, and you could feel the way his body responded to your words, the way his cock swelled inside you, twitching with need. his grip on your breasts tightened, his hips slamming into yours with renewed force as if he was trying to prove something, trying to show you that no matter who he fucked, it was you that he belonged to. “yeah?” he groaned, his voice low and rough as he leaned down, his mouth hovering over yours. “you liked watching me fuck her?”

you moaned in response, your legs tightening around his waist as you lifted your hips to meet his thrusts. “yeah,” you breathed, your lips brushing against his, teasing him. “but you know what i like even more?” he growled, his hand slipping from your chest to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck as he pressed his lips to your ear. “what?”

“i like knowing that no matter how good it was, no matter how hard you fucked her, you always come back to me,” you whispered, your voice dripping with confidence, with satisfaction. he groaned at your words, his hand tightening around your throat just enough to make your breath catch. “fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “you’re the only one. no one else feels like this.”

he leaned down, his mouth crashing against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a wet, messy tangle of spit and need. you could taste him—taste the desperation, the hunger that only you could satisfy. his lips were swollen, raw, and you kissed him harder, your fingers digging into his hair, pulling him closer. he pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your lips as he looked down at you, his eyes dark and filled with a primal kind of lust. “you like it when i fuck them, huh?” he babbled through a haze of lust, his hips slamming into yours again, his pace relentless. “you like knowing that no matter how good they are, they’ll never be you.”

you moaned in response, your nails digging into his back as your body trembled beneath him. “yes,” you panted, your voice barely more than a whisper, “because they’ll never be enough for you.” jaehyun’s hand moved from your throat to your breast again, squeezing it roughly as he leaned down, his lips trailing down your neck to your chest. he sucked on your nipple, his tongue swirling around it before pulling it between his teeth and biting down, hard enough to make you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“god, i love these tits,” he groaned, his voice muffled by your skin. “could fuck them all day.” your legs trembled, the intensity of his words and the roughness of his touch pushing you closer to the edge. you could feel the coil of pleasure tightening in your stomach, ready to snap at any moment. “then do it,” you teased, your voice breathless as you arched into him. “fuck me like you fuck them, jaehyun. show me.”

his eyes flashed with something dark and devious, and without warning, he pulled out of you, leaving you empty and aching. you barely had time to protest before he grabbed your hips, flipping you onto your stomach with a rough shove. you moaned as your body hit the mattress, your hands gripping the sheets as he positioned himself behind you. he didn’t waste time. his hands gripped your ass, spreading you open as he thrust into you from behind, the force of it making you cry out, your body jolting forward with each hard thrust. the angle was different, deeper, and you could feel every inch of him as he slammed into you, his cock hitting the spot that made you see stars.

his hand came down on your ass with a sharp slap, the sting of it sending a wave of pleasure through your body. “fuck,” you gasped, your voice muffled by the pillow as your hips bucked back against him. “harder.” he growled, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucked you harder, faster, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the room. “you really love this, don’t you?” he grunted, his voice low and rough. “love knowing i fuck them, but i come back to you.”

you moaned, your body trembling with pleasure as you nodded, your words coming out in broken gasps. “yes, yes, i love it.” his hand came down on your ass again, harder this time, and you cried out, the sting of it mixing with the overwhelming pleasure building inside you. “good,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust. “because this is the one thing i get to do that they can’t.”

with that, he thrust into you one last time, his body tensing as he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he came, filling you with hot, sticky heat. you moaned at the feeling of him cumming inside you, the sensation sending you over the edge as your own orgasm ripped through you, your body convulsing with pleasure. jaehyun collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving as he pressed soft kisses to the back of your neck, his hands still gripping your hips tightly. “this,” he murmured against your skin, his voice soft but possessive, “this is mine.”

✧

a/n: i do NOT condone cheating yall

Excited to see how this goes

MADE IN 1997 - 97line

summary: what it’s like to be in a group of different people born in 1997 who somehow became friends

pairing: the infamous 97 line (nct’s jaehyun, bts’ jungkook, astro’s eunwoo, got7’s bambam and yugyeom, seventeen’s mingyu, the8 and dk) x fem!reader (platonic) (the reader is also born in 1997)

genre: smau, humour, fluff, might be teeny tiny angst, no plot just random messages between friends

warnings: there will be a lot of swearing, overuse of shitty memes, fluff, some friendly bickering, problems with mental health etc… (i will put additional warnings on each part)

status: ongoing

a/n: i’ve been reading a lot of smau’s lately because they’re fun and decided to do one myself😃

parts are under the cut!

MASTERLIST

01. fishes doesn’t walk

02. none of us are safe

03. you know who else is hot?

04. nevermind

05. operation - y/n is sad

06. just smile and wave

07. are you cheating on us?

08. who said you have a choice?

09. shorter = closer to hell

10. jaehyun???

11. i just wanna talk

12. i take back what i said

13. …

BONUS

01. the insight of eunwoo’s and y/n’s friendship

02. …