#nct ff

You Look at the big house in front of you that might even be considered a Palace for you, you walk in your worn out converse to the door and knock on it waiting for someone to answer the door, rethinking your life decisions, you were here for a babysitting job, though you dislike kids, never was your cup of tea, you were here because well, let's say you need a part-time job, or something on the side to save up while being able to study, you were broke, your bank account having spider webs in it from how empty it was, you wouldn't even be able to be in college but you tried to apply for scholarships and you were lucky enough to get accepted, thankfully they provided dorms and breakfast, and since you come from not a very rich family, you had to get a job, as a barista, you worked as a bartender, but you'd last a semester before some of them shut down due to no customers.

Babysitting was never your cup of tea, you did it once when you were a teen to get some cash in summer and it was the worst experience of your life, all the crying, putting up a fight for stupid stuff, wanting to stay past bed time and not just listening–choosing to whine instead begging you to soften up and let them stay ‘five more minutes’ for the nth time. You couldn't handle it and it was the last time you even considered looking at children – or considering having one.

But your friend told you about these rich people and how they rarely even look after their own children so naturally they look for a babysitter, so naturally you gave the thought some time, and so you decided to look for some children to look after, looking through websites and parenting communities, your eyes full on one of the posts

‘Looking for a babysitter for my girl! She's 5 years old and needs someone to play with” so you send to them – assuming it's a mom not looking much into the profile

“Hello, ma'am I've seen your post about needing a babysitter and I was wondering if you're still available?”

sending a message like you did to the other parents.

It took a week for anyone to answer , you thought you were too late asking to be some kid babysitter– until you got a message

“Oh yes hello, thank god , may I ask when you are free?” They ask, a little too straightforward but sure

“I'm available tomorrow all day” you send after checking the account. It was anonymous, no profile photo, no name it only says jeong, what kind of name is that? You think but shrug it off , and it takes few minutes before they answer

“That's perfect , can you come tomorrow at 11 am?” They send and you raise an eyebrow. What kid would possibly be up at 11 am? But you send a quick message agreeing to the time regardless.

And here you are standing in front of the door, it was exactly 11 am. You waited outside for a minute before the door was opened and if you said this wasn't the most beautiful man you've seen, you'd be lying.

“Hello? I'm here for uh Mrs.jeong? Must be the wrong house-”

“No you're right, I'm mr.jeong” he says, his voice a bit deep it was almost scary, he moves away a bit and lets you in, you walk in looking at the minimalistic yet rich design

“I didn't quite catch your name” he says and you tell him your name

“Okay so we need to talk first” he says

“Oh it's okay I wait for Mrs.jeong” you smile awkwardly

“There's no Mrs.jeong” he says and your smile drops slightly, well shit you just embarrassed yourself in front of a man you've met a minute ago.

“Ah I see, well yeah sure” you nod and he leads you to the living room, he gives you his daughter's schedule and all the rules she has to follow and all the rules you have to follow.

“Are we clear here?” He asks and you nod awkwardly

“You'll be paid 500 per day” he says and suddenly the job isn't so scary

“When can I start?” You ask

“Now.” He says and stands up

“I have to go to work , she comes back from school at 2 pm” he clears, what type of job starts at 12 pm? You think internally but nod anyway, he hands you a paper with his number before leaving.

You hear a knock assuming it's his daughter, you open the door and there she was, looking like her father, she walks inside and raise an eyebrow at you but doesn't question anything regardless, she goes to her room to change out of her clothes, there were some food already prepared for her, probably made by a some expensive chef or something.

“So, do you like cartoons?” You ask nonchalantly and can see her eyes obviously spark up as she nods and after her meal you open a Disney film for her to watch, she pats next her signaling for you to sit and you do so, burying her face into your side before Turing her head to watch the cartoon.

Soon enough she was falling asleep on you, you turned off the TV and took her to her bed. And you stay in the living room until her dad comes home.

It has been two months since you started babysitting June, you've also gotten closer to Mr.jeong– who told you later to call him jaehyun, you never really questioned what happened to her mother, she never mentioned, there are no photos of her, did she give birth and leave? You didn't really care.

You knock on the door and wait til someone opens, jaehyun opens the door, standing there looking every inch of the rich man he is

“Oh hello y/n” he smiles softly, his deep dimples showing and honestly it take every ounce of control not to jump onto him and kiss him on the spot

“Oh hello jaehyun” you reply before walking into the house

“She didn't go to school today since she was sick, take good care of her okay?” He says and you nod

“Daddy?” You hear the little voice coming from behind jaehyun

“Sweetie, what are you doing out of bed?” He scolds lightly

“Can you stay home?” she pouts and looks up at him, her eyes looked droopy and looked adorable overall.

“Sorry sweetie but daddy gotta work okay? I'll try to come early” he says and gives her a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

You take her to her bed and tuck her in.

“I wish you were my mommy” she says suddenly and you giggle assuming it's just the fever talking

“I'm sure your mommy loves you more” you tease

“My mommy left me” she pouts

“I heard daddy say so before when he thought I was asleep” she pouts

“You should rest, I'll grab your medicine okay?” You say suddenly and leave the room, that's why there are no photos of the mysterious woman, June herself probably never met that woman, this poor kid knowing so much at such a young age, you shake your head and grab her medicine.

Jaehyun did come early as he promised but she was already deep in her sleep

“How is she doing now?” He asks worriedly

“She's fine now, her temperature is normal, she's just asleep” you say and he sighs gratefully

“Thank you y/n” he says and pulls out your money for the day but with extra cash, you were gonna refuse to take more money but it won't really matter to him so why the hell would you do that?, you take the money and put it in your bag and grab the bag before leaving.

Today was the weekend, which is usually when you don't go but jaehyun tells you it's ‘urgent matters’ so you go after he says he's going to pay you more, you arrive at 6 pm, which is a weird time but better than being awake at 11 am on a weekend.

You knock the door as usual and jaehyun opens after a minute as usual, he was wearing one of these expensive looking suits

“Hey Jaehyun, where is June?” You look around, used to June being around the door if she wasn't at school

“She's at her grandparents house” that makes you freeze, why the hell would he call

“So why did you call then?” You raise an eyebrow

“I wanna take you out” he says and you look at him like he's speaking a foreign language and then look at down at your your hoodie and the jeans that have had permanent pen stains on them

“Well I must be overdressed then” you say sarcastically earning a chuckle from him

“Well come in, I got you a present” he says and invites you inside

And leads you to his room which you remember was prohibited for you to enter and now he's inviting you to his bedroom you walk in after him and find a box sitting on the bed and he signals for you to open it

There was laying a gorgeous dress and a new pair of shoes which surprises you

“Oh wow that's- thank you” you say awkwardly

“Well wear it, I'll wait outside” he say and you nod

You get dressed and though you're wearing heels it felt nice to wear something other than these sneakers.

You walk out of the room and find jaehyun in the living room and his face lights up when he sees you, you notice his ears starting to redden up.

“Took you long enough” he teases showing off his dimples as he smirks slightly when you roll your eyes.

He takes you to one of these fancy restaurants where everyone is dressed like they're going to the met gala.

After you both order, you talk about things to keep the conversation going

“You know , June really likes you. She's had nannies and babysitters but she never liked them as she does with you.” He says and smiles slightly

“That's sweet, I don't even like kids but maybe I've changed my mind now, well kinda” you shrug and he chuckles

After eating the main course and dessert obviously he drives back to his house

“This was very nice jaehyun, I can't remember the last time I went out” you say and it is true, you only babysit June on your breaks and weekends when jaehyun is busy doing god knows what and you want to graduate so you go home and study your ass off falling asleep on the desk, yeah..not your best time.

“It's nothing, I do have to thank you for taking care of June after all” he says, his dimples popping.

He goes to the kitchen and pour you a glass of his finest wine, sliding the glass in front of you before pouring some for himself as well, his eyes stay fixed on you as you drink the red liquid

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask awkwardly

“Like what?” He teases and raises an eyebrow.

“I don't know, like you wanna eat me maybe?” You shrug and finish your drink

“Maybe I do” he says

“Well I give you permission to” you say sarcastically and you can see his eyes darken , he walks to you and helps you stand, his hand on the small of your back leading you to his bedroom.

“Daddy must be starving huh?” You chuckle and he smiles

“Oh you don't wanna know” he pushes you onto the bed , he unbuckles his belt and removes his dress shirt , your dress was short enough he can see a hit of your white panties.

He climbs on top of you and leans down peppering kisses over your neck and chest

And bites down on your neck before pulling away, sliding down to your core, he pushes your dress up and slides your panties to the side burying his face in your cunt, his tongue licking up and down your clit, your hips buckle your fingers gripping the sheets tightly as you let out weak moans, his fingers rise to your clit entering you which makes you gasp due to their low temperature, but get adjusted to it, he curls his fingers up which makes you grip on his fingers before coming all over his fingers.

When he's off you you can't help but stare at his sculpture abs and the happy trail on his abdomen leading to his cock, he takes his pants and boxers off showing off his thick and veiny length standing tall and proud over his stomach, he climbs on top of you again and looks down at you but slamming into you hitting your spot immediately, thrusting in and out of you the pleasure flying straight to your brain, you release a string of moans and whimes , begging him to fuck you even more and he doesn't miss a beat, and oh did he look dreamy, all sweaty and sticky, hair sticking to his forehead, his breath heavy , you were snapped out of your thoughts when he pinches one of your nipples making you wince and whimper in pain mixed with pleasure, you were reaching your climax, he felt it when your walls grip tightly on his cock milking him desperately your body aching for release, your eyes roll , hands gripping his shoulders pretty sure leaving marks there, as you come all over his dick, his pace fasten when he feels close not stopping even when you beg him weakly too tired to stop him, his pace slowing down when his loads empties in you filling you up with his white sticky liquid.

He lay next to you , you were almost passed out.

You wake up and find the bed empty and look around you to find jaehyun already awake and dressed up

“I'll go to work, June is coming at 5 pm” he says, his tone neutral

“Oh..yeah okay” you say awkwardly and grab your jeans and shirt that you were wearing

“You looked good yesterday” he says

“Oh yeah all thanks to you the dress-”

“I mean naked.” He cuts you off, teasing you and his lips curl into a knowing smirk when he sees your flushed face.

you weren’t exactly playing both sides — yeah they were bestfriends and also your neighbors , and of course there was some sort of bro code thing that you never understood or cared about , that was between them you were just living your life — and it was sometimes fun seeing how different the two men lived their lives.

with jaemin you never know what you were getting into. one day you could wake to the boy running around his messy apartment , his cats trailing behind him as he talked animatedly about how he found some random cabin in the middle of nowhere and he wanted to go stay in it — and you would go along with it for the plot , you like that instability with jaemin , you felt free , you didn’t feel like an adult who had to pay bills and be responsible.

but on the other hand , with jeno — completely different , jeno knew what he wanted in his life — you probably were the only thing that wasn’t stable in his life , but as unstable as you were , you still were consistent , he always came back to you , and only you. jeno grounded you , no matter how chaotic life got he was always there, and you couldn’t lie sometimes you did like waking up to the man ironing his clothes , telling you about his daily plans while you sat wiping the sleep from your eyes.

the sex was drastically different as well. sex with jaemin was wild — drunk sex was the best with jaemin , the two of you coming home from another night out , a night full of dancing and drink in some club way too close to each other , feeling up and touching each other to the point you both couldn’t help it , dragging him back to his apartment — clothes scattered around his already cluttered apartment , his hands messily traveling all over your body , teeth clashing and you both giggling. it was unserious , neither one of you establishing roles , sometimes you rode him , his cheeks red , clutching the sheets as you rocked back and forth , bouncing on his cock. other times he hovered above you , his thick cock stretching you out and his playfully bit on your lip — sometimes it lasted so long the sun would be up and the two of you would still be going at it , knocking out in the early morning , waking up late at night … just to repeat the night again.

sex with jeno was intense ; it wasn’t full of giggles and teasing touches — and you definitely weren’t ever on top. normally he’d call you before he got home from work , tired and stressed from his job , he’d call you — mainly to make sure you weren’t with jaemin , but also tell you to meet him at his apartment , and you knew what that meant. you would make your way over to his apartment , taking the key from under his welcome rug and going into his apartment to wait for the man to come home. there was no talking when he made it to the bedroom — he wanted you on you naked and ready to take his cock. it didn’t last hours like with jaemin , but he surely left you satisfied — your back in a deep arch as he pounds into you for at least two rounds , that’s enough for the both of you usually , but if not for you he’s not above going down on you quietly settling that flame in your stomach. his after care is top tier too , cleaning you up , ordering you food before letting you sleep in his bed , he doesn’t go straight to bed though , he works out a bit before laying next to your sleeping body.

the three of you were friends as well ; you hung out together as well despite the arrangements — you and jaemin were like the thorns jeno allowed to be in his side. “why are you two here?” jeno was pushed to the side , watching the two of you invade his space. “take your shoes off.” jaemin took to the couch , while you went to the kitchen. “it’s literally the only day we get to see you out of the week , you’re always so busy.” jaemin said. “or avoiding us.” he followed you into the kitchen. “are you hungry?” you turned around , nodding. “jaemin starved me all day.” you pouted , the boy scoffed from the couch. “i didn’t starve you , i lost my card and i don’t carry cash.”

“jaemin you lost the card a week ago.” you said he shrugged. “i can survive off ramen in my cabinet until i get a new one.” jeno sighed. “i had to pay for our drinks tonight.” jeno listened to you complain. “your tits paid for the drinks tonight.” jaemin shot back. “they didn’t pay for yours , i want my money back when you finally order your card.” jeno was already on his phone ordering his tipsy friends something to eat. “jaemin order a new card tomorrow.” he said , the boy laid on the couch. “the food is on its way.” you stumbled around taking your heels off , tossing them to the side. “thank you jeno.” you kissed his cheek , smiling cause you knew he hated it , skipping into the living room.

he put your shoes where they belonged , joining the two of you in the living room. “the two of you really need to get your lives together,” he said. “stop getting drunk every night you aren’t here raiding my fridge.” the two of you weren’t listening and he knew it , he just sighed. “i love you jeno.” your flushed face , hair messy — that just wasn’t a drunk glow , jeno knew that. “go get cleaned up , take a quick shower and sober up a bit , there’s some clothes in my closet you can wear.”

the two boys watched you get up , stumbling into the bathroom. “you like her.” jaemin smirked from the couch. “like like her like her.” jeno rolled his eyes at his friend. “you’re drunk.” the boy nodded. “that i am , but im not dumb.” he said. “you like her.” he sat up , putting his chin in his hand. “you know we fucked in the bathroom tonight?” jeno turned to his friend. “are you trying to make me jealous? i know you too fucked.” he scoffed. “what if i told you i liked her too?”

“do you?” jeno asked , the boy hummed. “told her a few hours ago.” was this it then? could he not even have you sometimes? “what did she say?” jeno asked. “well i was balls deep in her in the middle of a club bathroom so nothing at first except screaming my name.” he smirked , jeno rolled his eyes. “get to the point.”

“she pretended it didn’t happen , completely ignored my confession.” he chuckled. “she’s drunk she probably doesn’t even know her last name right now.” jeno said. “truth is she is a wild card and it’s fun doing whatever this is with her , but i don’t want to come in between you two if you do like her and if she likes you.” jeno listens to his friend. “if you want i’ll back off.” he laid back down just as the doorbell rang. “foods here.”

he opened the door to grab the food , you stepped out from outside his room , in nothing but a shirt reaching to your knees. “you’ve both seen me naked , this is nothing.” you said following him into the living room. “i needed that shower , i definitely need to stop drinking so much.” sitting down on the couch , jeno sat the food in front of you. “thank you.” you dug into the food , not waiting for them. “you see jaemin , jeno offered me food without question.”

“then why don’t you date jeno then?” jeno looked at jaemin. “what are yo— why would i just date him or you when i can just date both of you like i’ve been doing?” you said absentmindedly. “you’re dating us?” they both turned to you like it was news to them. “well i mean what do you guys call whatever this is?” you looked at them waiting for a response. “just fucking?”

the two boys looked at each other then you. “i mean isn’t that what it is?” jaemin asked. “i literally confessed to you.” you scoffed. “as you held up against a bathroom wall in a club with your dick inside me…” you said. “i thought that was like some weird dirty talk , i don’t know.” shrugging, finishing up your food. “and jeno i just assumed once you gave me the key to your apartment that solidified everything.” you confessed to the boy. “i mean i didn’t take a man like you to just give out your keys to any random woman you’re fucking.”

“i just thought we had a mutual agreement that i was dating both of you.” the three of you sat in the new realization. “i haven’t dated anyone since we started whatever this is.” you confessed. “have you two?” “no.” they both spoke rather quickly you smirked. “don’t be so smug , you know jeno is too busy to deal with us and another girl.” jaemin pushed you. “and your excuse is?” you retaliated by hitting him with the pillow. “oh really?” he smiled evilly before pushing down , pinning you down to the couch. “that’s not fair!” you shrieked. “you’re stronger than me.” you pouted. “you knew that beforehand , yet you provoked me.” he whispered , tilting his head to the side.

you coming back to the reality that jeno was still in the room. “jaemin get up.” you pushed at his chest. “why?” he looked up at his friend who sat in the seat before turning to you. “he can look,” he said before pressing his lips into yours. jeno shifted in his seat , watching the two of you make out on his couch. “see he doesn’t mind.” you turned your head up to see — his eyes low. “i actually think he likes it.” jaemin bit down on your neck , you squealed. “jae.” you moaned out. “be a good girl and keep moaning for our dear friend.”

grinding against your core; he pressed you down on the couch. “i wanna fuck you.” jaemin said against your lips. “right here.” you heard a groan coming from the chair. “spread your legs for me.” cupping your cunt , you gasped. “pussy so wet , who’s it for?” jaemin looked at jeno with a condescending smirk , the elder did felt a little jealousy bubbling in his stomach. “me or him.”

“both.” “good answer.”

pushing your panties to the side , kissing your cunt , licking a fat stripe. “jaemin fuck!” he devoured you , lapping at your folds — he definitely was showing off for the boy sitting in the chair , he ate you like he had something to prove. “such a sweet pussy.” his voice muffled in between your legs. “do i eat your pussy better?” he was trying to get under jenos skin , and it was working , you saw jeno clenched jaw , gripping the seat. “of course i do , does he even eat your pussy? i doubt it.”

that broke jeno ; standing up. “move.” was all he said. “me?” jaemin cocked his head to the side , jeno glared at him. he stood up holding his hands up in defense. “she’s all yours.” jeno grabbed both of your legs , lifting over his shoulders , wasting no time before ravishing you. “o-oh fuck!” you screamed as he gripped your thighs as his nose sliding across your clit — jaemin had to give it to him , jeno was good at eating you out and your screams proved it. “fuck i’m gonna cum!” legs tightening around the elder boy's head as you came.

“gotta give it to you bro , i don’t think i’ve ever heard her scream while i ate her out.” jaemin confessed. “do you always talk this much?” jeno wipe his glossy lips. “all the time , sometimes i get him to eat me out in hopes of shutting him up.” you interjected. “you don’t seem to have a problem with it when i’m inside you , do you?” jaemin now sitting in the seat jeno was once sitting in. “you getting sulky now jae?” you sunk down to your knees , rubbing his thighs. “cause he makes me cum harder.” he scoffed. “you’re lucky you look sexy on your knees , you keep running that mouth , how about you put it to use.”

you unbuckled his pants , he lifted his hips up , freeing his cock. “be a good slut and suck my cock.” you grabbed the base of his cock kissing his tip. “shit.” he sighed as you took him inside of your mouth. “that’s it -fuck- your mouth feels so good.” he grabbed the back of your head , guiding you up and down. “you giving jeno a show ? sucking me like this.” he groaned , throwing his head back. “sh-shit im about to cum.” pushing your head down , you gagged around his length. “oh fuck.” cock twitching as he came , shooting his load into your mouth. “shit.” he wiped the cum from your lips , pushing his thumb into your mouth.

you moved back to jeno , looking up at him seductively ; that shit turned him on the most. “you two eye fucking , it’s turning me on.” jaemin groaned , stroking his cock to the both of you honestly. “you want me to?” reaching for the waistband of his pants , he nodded , lifting his hips , letting you pull his pants down , he hissed when the air hit his tip. “sh-shit.” taking him into your mouth , gagging around his length — you moaned around his length , out the corner of your mouth jaemins head thrown back as he jerked off. “ah fuck , keep sucking him.” you took him deeper , jenos hands tangling up in your hair , pulling you off with a pop , pressing his sticky tip against your cheek , cumming with a grunt.

both of them losing their last grip on whatever this reality was between the three of you — both of them wanted you , and both of them were gonna have you. “get into his lap.” jeno held your waist as you sat down in his lap. “you gonna take us both of can’t you?” jaemin slapped your ass. “let us stretch this pretty pussy out.” his tip pressing against your waiting hole. “fuck.” he sighed as he pushed his cock into your hole. “ja-jaemin fuck!” he held your waist as he pounded into you , his cock stretching you out — but you wanted more. “je-jeno.”

“you gonna let her keep her waiting?” jeno lifted you slightly , his cock pressing against your already filled hole. “pl-please.” he pushed himself inside in one go. “ah!” you screamed having them both inside you — both of them moving at their own set paces , jaemins thrust more fast paced , while jeno slowly thrusted into you , both of them hitting the spot deep inside that had you seeing stars. “fuck you feel good.” jeno whispered into your ear with a groan , the once quiet voice suddenly speaking. “so tight.” jaemin behind saying the most filthiest things.

“fucking slut , ready to be filled with cocks.” he slapped your ass , making you squeal. “fu-fucking cock drunk whore , gonna cum?” jenos hand found itself in your hair again tugging. “fucking answer him.” he growled , thrusting up into you. “fuck yes!” both of them vigorously fucking into you , all three of you trying to get off. “oh fuck , i’m about to -shit-.” jaemin pulled out , jerking off , feeling the warmth of his load. “fuck.” jeno lifted you off of him , you wrapped your hands around him , jerking him off until he came. “hmph.” he hissed.

“do you two seriously have to argue over everything.” you rolled your eyes for the ninth time that hour. “just tell us , we’re both wondering.” jaemin said. “i’m not wondering anything , but if will ease his nerves you can say it.” jeno rubbed your calves. “he just saying that because he knows you’ll say it was me.” jaemin spoke. “so just say it.” “who fucked you the best?” “can’t i just say both of you.” you pouted. “why must i choose?” “because you’re just trying to make us both feel good , you’re playing both sides.”

“good , i wouldn’t have it any way.”

you had never been the type to chase trouble.

your life had always been structured, predictable, mapped out like a perfectly folded brochure of all the things you were supposed to be. the good daughter. the responsible student. the girl who never gave anyone a reason to worry.

your parents raised you with expectations as solid as the fence that surrounded your house. good grades, early curfews, polite smiles at dinners. you were the kind of girl who double-checked her answers before turning in a test, who texted home before she was even late, who never spoke back even when she wanted to.

it wasn’t that you minded. not really.

your life was safe—comfortable.

weekends were spent with the same close friends, at the same coffee shop on the corner, drinking the same latte every time and reviewing notes for exams that were still weeks away. after school, you went straight home, sometimes stopping by the bookstore if you had extra time, flipping through pages of novels where the main characters lived lives far more reckless than your own.

and you liked it that way. you liked knowing where you belonged, knowing exactly what came next.

because trouble was for other people. rule-breakers, risk-takers. the kind of people who never thought twice about consequences. people who didn’t care.

the kind of people like him. lee donghyuck—or as he preferred to be called, haechan.

lee donghyuck had always been a name whispered in the hallways, wrapped in either amusement or warning. he was the boy who skipped class but somehow still seemed to do well, the boy who wore silver rings on his fingers, black eyeliner and bruises on his knuckles, the boy who flirted with everyone but never let anyone close.

he was reckless in a way that made people watch him like a fire they couldn’t look away from.

and you? you were the girl who had spent her whole life avoiding flames.

—

science had always been your best subject.

there was something reassuring about it—formulas that always worked, reactions that could be predicted, rules that never changed. if you followed the steps, you got the right answer. it was logical. reliable.

but not everyone saw it that way.

from the back of the classroom, haechan let out a quiet sigh, loud enough that a few students glanced his way. he was slouched over his desk, barely pretending to take notes, the end of his pen tapping lazily against his open textbook.

“can anyone explain why increasing the concentration of reactants speeds up a chemical reaction?” the teacher asked.

your hand went up without hesitation.

“because a higher concentration means more particles in the same space,” you answered. “so there’s a greater chance of collisions between them.”

“correct,” your teacher said, nodding approvingly.

from the corner of your eye, you caught movement. haechan had lifted his head just enough to glance in your direction, his gaze slow and assessing. when you turned to meet it, he didn’t look away, but just studied you, the corner of his lips twitching like he was in on some joke you weren’t part of.

your teacher moved on, scribbling equations across the board, but haechan didn’t so much as pretend to care. he stretched, tipping his chair back onto two legs, hands folded lazily over his stomach, like he was just waiting for the bell to save him from all of this.

you turned back toward the front, exhaling through your nose. it annoyed you, yet you didn’t know why.

it didn’t matter, it had nothing to do with you.

he didn’t matter.

or at least, that’s what you had always thought until today.

—

you were halfway through packing your books when you heard your name.

“could you stay back for a moment,” your teacher said, just as the last bell rang.

you paused, glancing up as students shuffled past your desk, their conversations blending into white noise. you couldn’t think of a single reason you’d need to stay—your grades were perfect, your assignments were always on time, and you definitely didn’t cause any trouble.

but then the teacher said another name.

“donghyuck, you too.” you heard him correct the teacher of his name under his breath.

your fingers curled around the thick textbook you were shoving in your bag.

he was slouched at his desk, twirling a silver ring around his finger, eyes half-lidded like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. it took him a second to react, but when he did, it was with an exaggerated sigh, dragging himself upright like even this was too much effort.

the classroom emptied around you until it was just the three of you, the weight of the silence settling in as the teacher folded her arms over her desk.

“haechan,” she started, “you’re failing. if you don’t pass your next exam, you’re going to have to repeat this class. and you know what that means.”

he leaned back on the closest desk to the teacher’s, completely unfazed, crossing his arms. “that i get the pleasure of spending another semester with you?”

your teacher didn’t so much as blink. “it means you will not graduate with your class. you need this credit.”

that got a reaction. his arms uncrossed as haechan’s smirk slipped, just slightly.

“which is why,” she continued, turning to you, “you’re going to tutor him.”

your mouth parted slightly. “wait—”

“you’re the top of this class,” she cut in, before you could protest. “if anyone can help him pass, it’s you.”

you swallowed. the request made sense—on paper. but logic didn’t stop the heat of his gaze as it flickered toward you, as he finally seemed to take you in.

slowly, he let his eyes drag up and down, taking his time.

your unwrinkled clothes. your neatly done hair. the way you clutched your bag like it was a lifeline.

his lips curled at the edges, something amused, something almost lazy, and yet, you felt it. the weight of being looked at like that.

“seriously?” he drawled, tilting his head, eyes still on you. “her?”

your spine straightened. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he smiled like he’d already won. “nothing, sweetheart.”

your teacher exhaled sharply, already tired of him. “this isn’t optional. you’ll meet and study together, and if i hear that you’ve skipped even once, i will not hesitate to let you keep your failing grade. understood?”

haechan sighed, tipping his head back like this was the greatest inconvenience of his life. then, with the ghost of a smirk still tugging at his lips, he muttered, “yeah, yeah. whatever you say.”

you could already tell. this was going to be impossible.

—

you walk out of the classroom first, stepping a little harder than intended. this wasn’t how you planned to spend your semester. tutoring some guy who didn’t even try, who slouched in his seat like he was too good for all of it, who looked at you like you were something to be amused by.

the hallway was mostly empty now, students already heading home or to their next activities. you were almost free, when a voice called out behind you.

“so, tutor, when do we start?”

you didn’t stop walking. “the library. after school tomorrow.”

haechan caught up easily, his pace unhurried, like this was all some joke to him. “ugh, the library?” he groaned. “how predictable.”

you glanced at him, unimpressed. “where else are we supposed to study? a convenience store?”

“actually, yeah.” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, shooting you a smirk. “sounds more fun. we could get snacks. maybe a drink. aren’t tutors supposed to motivate their students?”

you exhaled sharply. he’s messing with you. you knew it, and yet, somehow, he still got under your skin.

“you don’t need motivation,” you said flatly. “you just need to study.”

“eh, debatable,” he mused. “i think what i need is a tutor who’s a little more flexible. less ‘strict teacher,’ more ‘cute classmate who wants to help me succeed.’”

you stopped walking.

haechan took a few more steps before realizing you weren’t next to him anymore. he turned, an eyebrow raised, just as you crossed your arms.

“okay, let’s get something straight,” you said, voice firm. “this isn’t a favor. i don’t want to tutor you, but i have to. and i don’t care if you think it’s boring or predictable, because it’s either this or you fail. so if you actually want my help, show up tomorrow. on time. otherwise, don’t waste my time.”

for a second, he just looked at you, head tilted like he was reevaluating something.

then, instead of answering, he let his gaze drag over you, slowly, like he was seeing you for the first time.

you stiffened under the weight of it, but refused to look away.

after a beat, he grinned.

“damn,” he murmured, almost to himself. “you’ve got a little fire under all that perfection, huh?”

you huffed, turning on your heel. “just be there.”

“yes, ma’am.”

you ignored him.

but as you walked away, you could still feel his smirk and stare burning into your back.

—

you barely stepped through the front door before your mom called out from the kitchen.

“you’re home later than usual.”

you set your bag down by the entryway, slipping off your shoes. “the teacher kept me after class.”

that was enough to get both of your parents’ attention. your dad looked up from where he sat on the couch, while your mom leaned against the counter, a slight crease forming between her brows.

“for what?” she asked, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

you exhaled, already bracing yourself. “she assigned me to tutor someone. he’s failing, and she thinks I can help him pass.”

your dad hummed approvingly. “well, that’s nice of you. who is it?”

you hesitated for half a second.

“haechan.”

the shift in the room was immediate. your mom stilled, and your dad turned completely this time, exchanging a glance with her before turning back to you.

“him?” your mom repeated, her voice careful.

“yes, him.” you folded your arms. “why does it sound like you already know who he is?”

your dad sighed, setting the paper aside. “people talk, sweetheart. he’s got a reputation.”

you rolled your eyes. “so what? he slacks off in class?”

your mom pursed her lips. “it’s more than that. skipping school, getting into trouble, hanging around the wrong crowds…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “just—be careful around him, honey.”

there it was. the warning.

and, of course, the assumption that you couldn’t think for yourself.

you sighed, rubbing your temple. “i’m not hanging out with him. i’m tutoring him. in the library. with textbooks.” you glanced between them. “pretty sure that’s not a crime.”

your mom didn’t look convinced, and your dad only leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable.

“just don’t let him pull you into anything,” he said. “kids like that don’t change.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, a flicker of irritation curling in your chest.

they made it sound like you were helpless. like the second you spent time with him, you’d suddenly throw your whole life away. everything you’ve built for yourself.

you shook your head. “it’s not that serious.”

and before either of them could say anything else, you grabbed your bag and headed for your room, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary.

they were overreacting.

they didn’t know him.

and neither did you.

—

session one - monday february 23rd

the school day dragged.

it wasn’t any different from usual; classes, notes, the occasional group discussion, but today, there was a lingering awareness hanging over you. a ticking clock in the back of your mind, counting down to the inevitable.

you weren’t looking forward to tutoring haechan. but you had a job to do, and if he didn’t show, well… that was his problem, not yours.

by the time the final bell rang, you had already secured a table in the library, setting out your textbook, notebook, and a few highlighters. everything was neatly arranged. you had a plan, a structured breakdown of the material he needed to catch up on.

and yet, fifteen minutes passed.

then twenty.

you checked your phone, tapping your pen against your notes.

was he seriously going to ditch on the first day?

finally, you heard footsteps approaching, and then a familiar voice, drawling, “damn. you’re really taking this seriously, huh?”

you glanced up to see haechan standing there, hands in his pockets, looking completely unfazed. like he hadn’t just wasted almost half an hour of your time.

you exhaled sharply. “you’re late.”

“fashionably,” he corrected, dropping into the chair across from you.

you leveled him with a stare. “i don’t think that applies to studying.”

he shrugged. “guess we’ll find out.”

already, your patience was wearing thin. you pushed the textbook toward him, flipping to the section you had marked. “let’s start with reaction rates. you need to understand how—”

he wasn’t listening.

instead of looking at the notes, he was looking at you, head tilted slightly, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“you always sit this straight?” he mused, tapping his pen against the table.

you blinked, looking up from the textbook. “what?”

“just saying. you’re sitting like you’re taking an exam or something.” he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “relax. tutoring’s not life or death.”

you ignored the heat creeping up your neck and flipped open your notebook instead. “can we focus?”

he hummed, like he was considering it. then, before you could continue, he leaned forward slightly, eyeing your arrangement of highlighters and pens.

“bet you highlight in, like, five different colors.”

you clenched your jaw. four, actually, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of being right.

when you didn’t respond, he grinned, undeterred. “does tutoring me ruin your whole ‘perfect student’ reputation?”

you inhaled slowly, gripping your pen a little tighter. “only if you fail,” you said flatly.

he let out a soft laugh, finally glancing at the textbook. “alright, alright. hit me with the science.”

you exhaled, pushing past your irritation. this was going to be a long session.

but one way or another, you were getting through to him.

—

the next hour closed and you left the library still irritated—but more at yourself than him.

why had your heartbeat picked up when he had leaned in? why had his teasing stuck in your head longer than necessary?

get a grip.

the school hallways were mostly empty by now, just a few stragglers grabbing things from their lockers or heading to practice. you stopped by your own locker, swapping out your books for what you needed, then headed outside.

the late afternoon air was crisp, the sky shifting into a soft orange glow. you walked home, already thinking about how you’d explain the session to your parents.

(you wouldn’t. you’d just tell them it happened and leave it at that.)

continuing your walk, barely making it past the school you hear a voice from behind you.

“yo, tutor.”

your head snapped up.

haechan. again.

he was leaning against a lamppost a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, the same knowing smirk playing at his lips.

“we should celebrate.”

you frowned. “celebrate what?”

“me actually getting an answer right, obviously.” he straightened, stretching his arms behind his head. “c’mon, don’t be boring. you never just—i don’t know—do something on a whim?”

you had remembered the question he got right—which was simply the question you had answered yesterday in class. you narrowed your eyes. “if this is your way of trying to get out of studying next time—”

“relax.” he chuckled. “just messing with you. see you at our very serious study session next time, tutor.”

and with that, he strolled off like he hadn’t just left you standing there, your thoughts an even bigger mess than before.

—

session two - wednesday the 25th

you told yourself you wouldn’t get annoyed this time. you even mentally prepared for his usual antics before heading to the library.

it didn’t work.

haechan was late again. this time only by ten minutes, but still. he strolled in with an iced coffee in one hand, a lazy grin on his face like he hadn’t kept you waiting.

“you get extra credit for showing up on time, you know.”

“damn, should’ve known,” he drawled, sliding into the seat across from you. “maybe next time.”

you sighed, pushing the textbook toward him. “no distractions today.”

“that’s asking a lot.”

“it’s not.”

to your surprise, he actually made an effort. at least at first. he followed along as you explained reaction mechanisms, even nodded a few times like he understood. but the second things got even slightly complicated, he leaned back and groaned.

“why do i even need this? it’s not like i’m gonna be a scientist.”

“you need it to pass.”

“passing is overrated.”

“says the guy who’s literally failing.”

he just grinned, spinning his ring around his finger. “touché, sunshine.”

the nickname caught you off guard, making your stomach flip in a way that was foreign to you. whether he noticed your shift or not, he continued to use the name anytime he talked to you.

progress was slow, but you managed to get through two topics before he started messing around again, twirling his pen, asking dumb hypothetical questions that had nothing to do with chemistry.

“if i fail, do you fail too? since you’re my tutor?”

“no.”

“damn. no stakes for you then, huh?”

“just the overwhelming frustration of having to deal with you.”

“you wound me.” he clutched his chest dramatically, then smirked. “you sure you’re not starting to like our little sessions, though?”

you rolled your eyes. “go home, haechan.”

he laughed as he stood up, giving you a lazy salute before walking off.

session three - friday the 27th

miraculously, haechan was on time. but that didn’t mean he behaved.

“don’t look so shocked, tutor.” he plopped into his usual seat. “i can be responsible when i wanna be.”

“so, you just choose not to be?”

“exactly.”

today, he actually put in a little more effort, asking questions instead of just guessing his way through answers. you started to think, maybe this tutoring thing wouldn’t be a total waste of time.

and then, halfway through, he got bored.

“okay, pop quiz,” he said, snapping his book shut. “if you had to get a tattoo, what would it be?”

you blinked. “we are not doing this.”

“come on, humor me.”

“fine,” you muttered, flipping through your notes. “something small. simple. maybe a quote.”

“predictable,” he teased. “what if i said i’d get your name tattooed?”

you shot him a deadpan look. “then i’d question all of your life choices.”

he laughed, drumming his fingers against the table. “nah, i’d get something cool. a dragon or something. or maybe—” he wiggled his brows. “a chemical equation, just for you.”

“how generous.”

“i try.”

somehow, even with the distractions, he managed to retain at least some of what you covered. as you packed up, he tapped his pen against the table.

“hey, sunshine.”

you glanced up, not missing his smirk at your responding to the name.

“don’t miss me too much over the weekend.”

“leave.”

he laughed all the way out the door.

session four - monday march 2nd

you were already exhausted from the start of the new week, and haechan wasn’t helping.

“mondays shouldn’t exist,” he grumbled, dropping into his chair.

while you agreed, you had to keep him focused. “you still have to study.”

“brutal.”

you launched straight into the material, ignoring his dramatic sighs and complaints about how unfair school was. surprisingly, he focused for a solid thirty minutes—until he caught you tapping your foot.

“you’re impatient today,” he observed, tilting his head.

“or maybe i just want you to actually learn something.”

“i am learning. look,” he pointed at an equation. “i even remember this one.”

you checked. he was right.

“wow,” you deadpanned. “you have a functioning brain after all.”

“careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

despite yourself, you bit back a smile.

the session ended with him actually completing the assigned questions, granted, after a lot of coaxing. as you packed up, he tapped the table again, just like last time.

“see you wednesday, sunshine.”

this time, you didn’t tell him to leave.

you did however, roll your eyes as he walked away, still grinning.

—

session five – wednesday the 4th

it was one of those days.

haechan was late—again. not by much, but enough to make you grit your teeth when he finally strolled in, a bag of chips in one hand, looking like he had nowhere better to be.

“don’t look at me like that, sunshine.” he smirked as he slid into his seat. “traffic was brutal.”

“you walk here.”

“damn. caught me.”

you inhaled sharply through your nose, pushing the worksheet toward him. “just start.”

he did. kind of.

five minutes in, he was tapping his pen against the table. ten minutes in, he was spinning his rings. fifteen minutes in, he was leaning back in his chair with a yawn.

“haechan,” you warned.

“hmm?”

“can you at least pretend to care?”

he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “depends. does it bother you?”

you shook your head. “whatever.”

“relax, sunshine.” he tilted his head. “you’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

you ignored the way heat crept up your neck. “just answer the question.”

he glanced at it. “mm… ‘catalyst slows down a reaction.’”

you shut your eyes, inhaling deeply. “no. it speeds up a reaction—”

“eh, close enough.”

“no, it’s not—” you cut yourself off, exhaling sharply. “are you even trying?”

“nah.”

that was it.

“then why the hell are we even doing this?”

he blinked at you, momentarily caught off guard. but you were already pushing back your chair, stuffing your notes into your bag with sharp, deliberate movements.

“if you fail, that’s your problem. not mine.”

you didn’t wait for a response. just walked out, leaving him sitting there—still smirking, but something in his expression had shifted.

session seven – monday the 9th

the session was supposed to be like any other. you’d prepared the material, you had everything set up, and you were expecting the usual. you didn’t expect haechan to show up on time—or at least not to show up with an actual sense of purpose.

he slung his bag over the chair and slumped down. his usual cocky grin wasn’t there.

“what’s wrong with you?” you asked, surprised at how… serious he seemed.

he didn’t answer right away, instead just staring at the notes in front of him with furrowed brows.

“this is dumb,” he muttered under his breath.

you raised an eyebrow. “what’s dumb? the concept? the subject? or… you?”

he flicked his eyes to you, but there was no usual smirk, just irritation. “all of it.”

you frowned. “this isn’t the usual ‘i don’t care’ routine. what’s going on?”

he didn’t meet your eyes, instead flicking through the textbook like he was hoping to find a way out of this.

“i just don’t get it,” he said, voice tight.

you sat back, eyeing him carefully. you were so used to him breezing through everything, acting like he didn’t care, so this sudden frustration was… different. it threw you off.

“you’ve got this. we’ve gone over it before.”

“yeah, well, it’s not clicking today,” he shot back, rubbing his temples like he was battling a headache.

you leaned forward, speaking more gently than usual. “haechan, this stuff isn’t hard. you just have to stop shutting down every time it gets tough.”

he looked at you for a long moment, eyes soft but frustrated. he clearly didn’t want to admit that maybe, just maybe, you were right.

“i don’t shut down,” he muttered. “it’s just… everything else is easier. this? it feels like i’m failing at something i can’t even explain.”

you blinked, taken aback. haechan never let anything get to him, at least not this much.

“okay,” you said, shifting your tone to something a little more reassuring. “we can take it slow. i’ll help you through it.”

but even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t just about the chemistry. there was something deeper in his frustration—something he wasn’t saying.

he sat back in his chair, massaging his temples. “maybe i just don’t get it because i’m not supposed to. i’m not like you, sunshine.”

“no, you’re not,” you said softly. “but i know you can get it. you have to try.”

there was a long silence between you, and for the first time in a while, you realized that your usual teasing, quick comebacks wouldn’t fix this.

haechan’s eyes met yours for a fleeting second, something raw in them. then, he sighed.

“this is stupid,” he muttered, but there was a softness to his voice. “i’ll try.”

and for once, you believed him.

—

days later, sunday dinner was quiet, just the soft clinking of utensils against plates and the low hum of the tv in the background. your parents had been giving you a look all evening. the kind that meant they had something to say but were waiting for the right moment.

you didn’t have to wait long.

“so,” your mom started, too casually. “how’s tutoring going?”

you didn’t even glance up from your plate. “fine.”

“fine?” your dad echoed. “that’s it?”

you shrugged, poking at your food. “what else is there to say?”

your mom set down her fork. “is he at least putting in effort?”

you huffed. “define effort.”

they exchanged a glance, the kind that made you feel like a kid again, like they already knew exactly what was going on.

“we just want to make sure he’s not wasting your time,” your dad said. “if he’s not serious about learning, you don’t have to keep doing this.”

“he’s… getting better,” you admitted, though you weren’t sure if it was entirely true. he was trying, in his own way, but it was a slow process.

your mom still looked unconvinced. “just be careful, sweetheart.”

you frowned. “careful?”

“boys like him…” she hesitated, choosing her words. “they can be a distraction.”

“he’s not a distraction,” you said immediately, but the way she raised an eyebrow made your stomach twist.

and then— “you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”

you nearly choked. “what? no. why would you even—?”

“because it happens,” your dad cut in, giving you a pointed look. “you spend enough time with someone, and next thing you know, you start making excuses for them.”

“i’m not making excuses.” you leaned back in your chair, suddenly desperate to get out of this conversation. “and i definitely don’t have a crush on him. it’s just tutoring. that’s it.”

they didn’t argue, but the look in their eyes said enough.

—

session ten – monday the 16th

you weren’t sure why your parents’ question was still echoing in your head. it was ridiculous, really. you didn’t have a crush on him. just because he was annoying, and cocky, and had that stupid smirk that made your stomach flip sometimes—no. not sometimes. never. it didn’t matter.

but still, as you walked into the library, setting your bag down at the usual table, you felt weirdly… off. distracted.

you pulled out your notes, trying to shake the thought, but haechan just had to say something.

“damn, sunshine. you look tense. bad day?”

you jumped slightly at his voice. he was standing next to you now, one hand gripping the chair as he spun it lazily before sitting down. he was late, as usual, but this time you hadn’t even noticed.

“fine,” you said quickly, focusing on your notes.

“you sure?” he tilted his head, leaning forward on the table. “you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

you did. but there was no way in hell you were going to tell him what.

“it’s nothing,” you said, too quickly. “let’s just get started.”

but as the session went on, you found yourself more distracted than usual. every time he leaned in, every time he ran a hand through his hair, every time he smirked at something that wasn’t even funny, you thought of your parents’ voices in your head.

“you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”

no. you weren’t. you refused to.

but then he tapped his pen against the table, glancing at you through his lashes. “you’re really off today, sunshine. what’s up?”

and maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was the fact that you hated how observant he could be, but you snapped.

“you. you’re up. why do you talk so much?”

he blinked, clearly not expecting that. then, he grinned. “because you like it.”

“i don’t.”

“liar.”

you groaned, running a hand down your face. this session was going to be impossible.

—

session twelve - friday the 20th

you had a feeling he wasn’t going to show up.

maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t texted all day—not that he ever really did, but usually, there was something. some offhand comment about how he was so tired or how he was mentally preparing for another “brutal” study session. but today? nothing.

still, you sat at the usual table, notes spread out, waiting.

and waiting.

and waiting.

until finally, you checked the time and realized it had been forty-five minutes.

you scoffed, shoving your notes back into your bag with more force than necessary. of course he wouldn’t show up. of course, he’d waste your time like this.

this was exactly why you didn’t like him.

not that you had to remind yourself. but things like this. his impulsiveness, his lack of reliability, the way he did whatever he wanted without considering anyone else, made it so much easier to not like him.

except, if that were really true, you wouldn’t be this pissed off.

you stormed out of the library, typing out a single text before shoving your phone deep into your pocket.

“seriously?”

no greeting. no unnecessary words. just that.

and when he didn’t respond, you told yourself you didn’t care.

even though, somehow, he was all you could think about for the rest of the night.

—

the weekend was quite eventful.

saturday -

you weren’t mad.

at least, that’s what you told yourself as you pulled out your laptop that morning, trying to focus on the essay you’d been putting off. it had nothing to do with him. nothing to do with the fact that he’d completely wasted your time yesterday. it wasn’t like you cared.

but when your phone lit up beside you, your heart jumped a little too fast. you grabbed it instinctively. only to see a notification from your bank about your spending this month.

you exhaled sharply, tossing your phone aside. see? you weren’t waiting for a text. because you weren’t expecting one. because you didn’t care.

still, you had to physically stop yourself from checking your messages every hour, and by the time the afternoon rolled around, you were in a terrible mood.

saturday night -

“so let me get this straight,” your friend, karina said, stirring her drink lazily. “he didn’t show up. didn’t text. and…now you’re mad about it.”

you scowled, leaning back in your chair. “i’m not mad.”

she raised an eyebrow. “you sure? cause you seem pretty mad.”

you crossed your arms. “i just don’t like when people waste my time. it’s inconsiderate.”

“right.” karina smirked, tilting her head. “but it’s weird, isn’t it? because you weren’t even this mad when you thought he wasn’t taking tutoring seriously. but now? now he misses one session, and suddenly, it’s a big deal?”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “that’s not the point.”

“mhm.” she sipped her drink, clearly unconvinced.

you refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, but as you stared down at your untouched food, a thought crept into your mind.

was she right?

sunday afternoon -

you spotted him before he saw you.

standing by the counter at the campus café, looking as unbothered as ever. hoodie slightly loose around his shoulders, rings glinting under the dim lighting as he scrolled through his phone.

he wasn’t avoiding you, then. because avoiding would at least mean he knew he did something wrong.

the irritation that had been simmering all weekend bubbled over. before you could think twice, you were already walking toward him.

“oh, hey, sunshine.” he glanced up as you stopped beside him, smiling like nothing had happened. “you look cute when you’re brooding.”

you didn’t waste time. “you didn’t show up.”

he shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. “yeah. something came up.”

“something came up?” your voice was sharper than intended, but you didn’t care. “you could’ve at least said something.”

he leaned against the counter, studying you with an amused tilt of his head. “why? you miss me?”

your fingers curled into fists at your sides. because he was doing this on purpose. pushing, testing, waiting to see how much you’d react. and you hated that it was working.

“you’re unbelievable.” the words came out in a breath, laced with frustration.

and then you turned on your heel and walked away before you could say anything else you’d regret.

but the worst part? the absolute worst part?

he was still in your head, and you didn’t know how to make it stop.

—

session thirteen - monday the 23rd

for the next two weeks, you and haechan had to change locations as club was having their meetings in the library. you moved to a classroom near the library.

monday’s session wasn’t a disaster. in fact, it was almost… normal.

he showed up—five minutes late, but that was practically on time for him. he didn’t ignore the notes you laid out, didn’t spend the whole time spinning his rings or making dumb comments. he even answered a few questions correctly, which honestly shocked you.

“so you do pay attention sometimes,” you muttered when he got one right.

“wow, sunshine.” he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “say that again. maybe i’ll start believing you actually like having me around.”

you scoffed, underlining something in your notebook just to avoid looking at him. “don’t push it.”

he chuckled but didn’t push. and for the first time since this whole tutoring arrangement started, things actually felt… okay. he was still distracting, still teasing you every chance he got, still doing that infuriating thing where he leaned back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. but at least he was trying.

and that was enough.

for now.

later that week, things changed.

session fifteen- friday the 25th

you were still in one of the school’s empty classrooms, finishing up some notes for yourself. it was already late when you heard the classroom door creak open.

too late for a tutoring session. too late for him to be here at all.

you looked up, expecting a janitor, maybe a teacher. instead, you saw him.

“oh my god.” your breath caught when you finally glanced up. “what happened to you?”

he looked…rough. a split lip, a bruise already blooming on his cheekbone, dried blood crusted near his eyebrow. his knuckles were bruising and stained with a little blood, like he’d been swinging at something—or someone.

“nothin’.” his voice was quieter than usual, the usual cockiness dulled by exhaustion. “just a bad night.”

“bad night? you look like you got your ass kicked.” you frowned, already standing. “who—why—”

“doesn’t matter.” he waved a hand, like he wanted to brush it off, but even that small movement made him wince.

you sighed, shaking your head as you grabbed your bag. “stay here.”

he didn’t argue as you left, and when you came back a few minutes later, first aid kit in hand, he still hadn’t moved. just sat there, fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh, like he was waiting for the fight to start back up again.

but when you stood in front of him, tilting his face up slightly so you could dab at the cut on his lip, he stilled.

“you don’t have to do this,” he murmured.

“you don’t have to get into fights.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it.

when you knelt beside him and took his hand in yours, he barely reacted, letting you clean the dried blood from his knuckles. his skin was warm under your touch, but you ignored that. just like you ignored the way his eyes were fixed on you, dark and unreadable.

for a while, there was only silence. the soft press of gauze against his skin, the quiet scrape of your nails as you brushed away the dried blood. and through it all, he just watched you.

like he didn’t understand why you cared.

“you’re not supposed to fix me, sunshine,” he said eventually, voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “just tutor me.”

you didn’t look at his eyes. “maybe i just don’t want to watch you fall apart.”

his breath hitched slightly. and maybe you imagined it, but for the first time, the fight in his eyes flickered. just for a second.

he didn’t say anything else. but something shifted in that moment.

because later, when he went home, he touched the bandage you had carefully pressed onto his skin, fingers lingering there longer than necessary.

and even though he would never admit it. maybe not even to himself, that was the moment he started falling for you.

—

after that night, things feel different. you tell yourself they’re not, that nothing’s changed, that you’re just imagining the way your chest tightens when you catch him looking at you in the middle of a study session. but it’s there, lingering in the spaces between words, in the silence that lasts too long, in the way his teasing remarks don’t land the same way anymore.

the next session, he actually tries.

not in an obvious way—he’s still late, still sighs dramatically when you hand him a practice problem, still taps his pen against the table like he’s counting down the minutes until he can leave. but when you ask him a question, he answers. when he gets something wrong, he listens when you explain instead of brushing it off.

session sixteen - monday the 28th

“so, what, you’re suddenly serious about passing?” you ask, watching as he leans forward, elbows braced against the table.

he tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “maybe i just like seeing you all impressed when i get something right.”

you roll your eyes. “trust me, you’d have to try way harder for that to happen.”

but you don’t mean it. because when he mutters the right answer under his breath, brow furrowed like he’s actually thinking, something twists in your stomach. you shove the feeling down before it can take root.

—

then, he starts showing up.

not just to your tutoring sessions—those are still scheduled, still predictable, still something you can control—but to other places. places he shouldn’t be.

like when you’re sitting outside between classes, notebook open in your lap, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the pavement.

“wow,” his voice cuts through the quiet, lazy and amused. “you really do study all the time, huh?”

you glance up, frowning as he drops into the seat across from you. “what are you doing here?”

he shrugs, peeling the label off his drink. “nowhere else to be.”

he stays. doesn’t do much—just picks at his rings, tosses casual comments your way, complains about the weather. at first, it’s just once. then it happens again. and again.

“you know you don’t have to sit here, right?” you say one day, not looking up from your laptop.

“i know.”

he doesn’t leave. and you don’t tell him to. maybe that’s your first mistake.

—

the evening air is crisp, biting at your skin as you step out of the library. you tug your jacket tighter around yourself, putting your earbuds in as you start down the quiet path leading off campus. most of the streetlights flicker on as it got darker.

you don’t hear him at first.

not until he falls into step beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched.

“hey, sunshine.”

you nearly trip, ripping an earbud out as you whip your head to the side. “what the—why are you here?”

he doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking like this is the most natural thing in the world. “walking.” he motions in front of him.

“walking where?” you press, your suspicion growing.

he exhales, tilting his head toward the sky as if debating whether to answer. finally, he shrugs. “just making sure you get home okay.”

you slow your steps. something about the way he says it, like it’s just a fact, like it’s obvious, throws you off balance.

“i don’t need a bodyguard,” you mutter.

“yeah, i know.”

“so why—”

“just shut up and keep walking.”

the words should annoy you. they do annoy you. but something in his casual but firm tone, like he’s already decided he’s doing this whether you like it or not, leaves no room for argument. so you walk, stealing glances at him every so often, watching the way he shifts his weight, the way his fingers flex like he’s holding back something he’ll never say out loud.

“this isn’t a habit now, is it?” you ask after a few minutes.

“depends.”

“on what?”

“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”

you roll your eyes but don’t push.

when you finally reach your place, you stop at the fence, hesitating. you should say goodnight. you should say thanks, maybe. but before you can decide, he’s already a few steps away, hands still buried in his pockets, gaze fixed ahead.

“see you later, sunshine.”

he doesn’t look back. doesn’t wait for a response.

but for some reason, you watch him walk away anyway.

—

you should be asleep.

but you’re not.

instead, you’re lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the walk home in your head like a movie you can’t turn off. like the flickering streetlights, the cold air, the steady sound of footsteps beside you—his footsteps—are all burned into your mind.

you shift onto your side, pulling your blanket up to your chin. it’s stupid. he didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything that should be lingering like this. all he did was show up. all he did was walk.

but still.

“just making sure you get home okay.”

he’d said it like it was nothing. like it wasn’t a thing.

but it was. wasn’t it?

you sigh, rolling onto your back again. your phone sits on your nightstand, screen dark, no notifications. not that you expected any. he’s not the kind of guy to text. but still, some stupid part of you wonders if he’s thinking about it, too.

not about you. just—about anything.

maybe he’s already asleep, completely unbothered, already moved on. maybe it meant nothing to him.

but then again—

“depends.”

“on what?”

“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”

you close your eyes, exhaling slowly.

you don’t know what’s worse. the fact that he might actually do it again.

or the fact that you kind of want him to.

—

session nineteen - monday april 4th

you check the time again.

ten minutes late.

with an annoyed sigh, you tap your pen against the open notebook in front of you, debating whether to give up and leave. it’s not like he hasn’t done this before. showing up whenever he feels like it, acting like he’s doing you a favor by even bothering. but this time, it’s grating more than usual. maybe because things have been different lately—less antagonistic, more… whatever this weird tension is that neither of you have acknowledged.

and then, just as you’re about to slap your notebook shut, a chair scrapes against the floor.

“took you long enough,” you mutter without looking up.

“miss me?”

the smirk is there—you can hear it in his voice even before you meet his gaze. he leans back in his chair, stretching out like he has all the time in the world. no apology, no excuse. just him, always testing your patience.

you roll your eyes and push his notebook toward him. “just open your book.”

the session starts off okay, at first. he’s actually trying—not a lot, but enough. he answers a few questions, gets some right, listens when you explain the ones he gets wrong. but there’s something off about him today.

he’s restless. more than usual.

his fingers tap against the table, his rings clicking against each other in a way that makes your nerves buzz. he sighs every time you correct him, leans back so far in his chair that you’re convinced he’s seconds away from tipping over. but most of all, he’s not looking at you.

not in the usual way, at least. he usually stares—lazy, smug, like he’s waiting for you to snap. but today, it’s like he’s avoiding your gaze altogether. like he’s somewhere else.

“what is wrong with you today?” the words slip out before you can stop them.

haechan raises an eyebrow, finally meeting your eyes. “me? nothing. maybe you’re just extra grumpy today.”

you glare. “maybe i wouldn’t be if you were actually focused.”

he clicks his tongue, shutting his notebook with a dull thud. “yeah? and what if i don’t feel like it?”

your patience snaps. “then why are you even here, haechan?”

silence.

his expression shifts—just barely, but enough for you to see it. the way his jaw tightens, the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he looks away.

and then he speaks so quiet, almost to himself.

“good question.”

your breath catches. because suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re talking about tutoring anymore.

neither of you speak after that.

the rest of the session is stiff, words clipped and movements sharp. when it ends, he doesn’t throw a smug remark over his shoulder, doesn’t tease you like he usually does. he just stands, slings his bag over his shoulder, and walks out without looking back.

you stay sitting there long after he’s gone, staring at the empty chair next to you.

heart pounding for reasons you don’t want to think about.

—

session twenty - wednesday the 6th

wednesday’s session is quieter than usual. it’s like there’s a wall between the two of you—still the same awkwardness, but with more… space.

haechan is more focused than before, but there’s a distance in the way he engages with the material. no smart comments, no teasing, just a steady silence as he works through the problems. every time your fingers brush over his paper to point out a mistake, there’s a brief, electric pause. neither of you comment on it, but it lingers, like a promise neither of you are ready to make.

but by the end of it, he’s gone without a word. not a smile, not a look. just the door shutting quietly behind him.

—

session twenty one - friday the 8th

friday’s session is different.

when he walks in, there’s a heaviness about him, something off—his face is bruised again, his lip split like last time, hair slightly tousled, and there’s a subtle tremble in his step like he’s not sure whether to be here or not. his eyes avoid yours as he slides into the chair across from yours, too close to be casual but too distant to be comfortable.

the silence between you is charged from the start, but it’s not the playful tension you’re used to. it’s thick, raw, almost uncomfortable.

you can’t help but stare at the bruise blooming across his jaw, the scrape on his chin, and the other cuts scattered across his arms. the anger and adrenaline radiate off him in waves, but there’s something deeper underneath all of it—a tiredness.

you try not to let your voice crack, but the concern breaks through anyway. “what happened?”

haechan doesn’t meet your gaze. his eyes are dark, like he’s trying to bury something under all that nonchalance. “it’s nothing.”

you don’t believe him. obviously. not looking like that. “haechan, don’t lie.”

finally, he looks at you, and there’s something in his expression that makes you freeze—raw vulnerability laced with a bitterness you can’t quite place. “someone said something about you,” he says quietly. “something i didn’t like.”

you feel the weight of his words like a punch to the gut. “what do you mean?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, but there’s no hiding the unease creeping into your tone.

he’s quiet for a long moment, his fingers tapping restlessly against the table as he thinks about how to phrase it. then, he just blurts it out: “i fought over you.”

it takes you a second to process. “what?”

he looks at you, this time, eyes searching yours like he’s looking for something. “they were talking about you. bad stuff. i couldn’t just sit there. i—” his words falter, like he’s not sure why he’s even explaining this to you.

you don’t know what to say. your heart beats harder, faster. “so you just…?”

“i lost it.” he’s not ashamed, not exactly, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes you feel like he’s letting go of more than just the fight. “i couldn’t stand it. i had to do something.”

and that’s when it hits you—the depth of everything he’s been hiding behind those sharp smirks and sarcastic comments.

without thinking, your fingers move—just a soft brush against his darkening knuckles, like it’s the only thing you can do to make sense of all this. you feel the heat of his skin underneath your fingertips, and the contact burns, even though it’s so small.

haechan’s breath catches. there’s a moment of complete silence, and then he slowly, so slowly, moves his fingers that were under yours.

you hold your breath, fingers trembling just a little. and then, as if testing the waters, he slides his fingers up to rest his hand against yours. you found your hand opening up, as your palms touched slightly. his finger tips grazing your with a ghost-like touch. for a second, neither of you moves. there’s a fragile, delicate tension that seems to freeze the room in place.

and then, without saying a word, he lets his fingers gently curl around yours.

it’s slow, tentative, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. but when you don’t, when you let him, he doesn’t hesitate. his grip tightens just enough, not too much—just enough to say this matters.

your heart races, and your breath hitches, but you don’t pull away. you don’t want to.

you let your fingers slip into the spaces between his, moving carefully, slowly.

there’s no hurry. just the quiet sound of your breaths mingling with the subtle click of his rings as his fingers settle between yours.

his eyes drop to your hands, studying the way you fit together, the way your fingers slide against his, perfectly and effortlessly. it’s intimate in a way that makes everything around you disappear. there’s only the soft warmth of his hand in yours, the quiet thrum of something unspoken growing louder between you.

he leans forward slightly, his voice quiet, almost like a confession. “i fought because of you,” he says, the weight of his words settling between you two like a secret you didn’t expect.

you want to say something, want to ask why, but the words don’t come. your chest feels tight. why would he do that for you?

his thumb strokes the back of your hand, the motion slow and careful, and you feel the heat of his touch seep through you. “i couldn’t just let them say shit about you,” he murmurs, his voice raw. “no one talks about you like that and gets away with it.”

you finally meet his gaze, your chest tight with something you can’t name. he holds your hand gently, but there’s a possessiveness in his touch, something protective that you can’t quite ignore.

the air between you is thick, filled with the weight of everything unsaid. he doesn’t let go of your hand, doesn’t move away, and neither do you.

you’re not sure how long you sit there, fingers entwined, the world outside of this moment fading away. but somehow, it feels like everything has changed between you two in that quiet, intimate touch. Something that didn’t need to be spoken but felt.

neither of you moves, not yet. not until it’s time.

—

saturday -

saturday morning arrives with the lingering weight of haechan’s words from the previous session. “maybe we could grab a coffee or something. no tutoring… just…”

his voice still echoes in your mind as you get ready. you don’t know why it’s making you nervous. you’ve spent hours with him tutoring, in tight spaces, talking about everything under the sun, but this feels different. it’s not about grades or chemistry anymore. it’s about you and him—just two people.

when your parents asked where you were off to, you brushed them off with a simple. “studying at the café,”.

at 2 p.m., you arrive at the cafe a little early. your heart beats louder in your chest as you stand outside, looking at the door, unsure whether you should go in first or wait. but before you can make up your mind, haechan appears. he’s wearing a hoodie and jeans. his messy hair adds to the vibe—relaxed, but there’s an intensity in the way he walks towards you.

“hey,” he greets with that familiar teasing smile, but it’s less playful today, more reserved. he watches you for a beat, like he’s trying to gauge how you’re feeling.

“hey,” you respond, your voice steady but your insides twist with something unfamiliar.

the conversation starts easy, like a continuation of your tutoring sessions, but it quickly morphs into something more personal. you laugh at his jokes, and he cracks a few of his usual sarcastic comments. but this time, they don’t feel so cutting—they feel like an invitation, an effort to connect.

you tell him about your favorite subjects, and he talks about his struggle with science (which he completely tries to play off like he doesn’t care about). somehow, you both end up talking about your childhoods, your families, and some awkward high school moments. the more you talk, the more the layers fall away, and you realize this is more real than you expected. he really wasn’t some monster that everyone seemed to paint him as.

as you finish your drinks, there’s an uneasy silence between you two. haechan runs a hand through his hair, and you shift in your seat, unsure of what to do next. the energy between you both is charged now—unspoken words hang thick in the air, and it’s almost unbearable.

“well, sunshine,” he says, his voice softer than usual, “i guess I’ll see you on monday?”

you nod, too quickly, almost relieved to escape the pressure of the moment. “yeah, monday.”

you both stand, and as you turn to walk away, you feel his eyes on you. you can’t tell if it’s admiration or something else, but the way he watches you feels different now.

sunday -

sunday passes quietly, but the space between you and haechan feels wider, even though you just saw him the day before. you try not to think about the little moments—the way he looked at you, how close you both were, how much you wanted him to say more. but that’s the problem, isn’t it? you both left so much unsaid, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.

he doesn’t text you at all. the silence is deafening. you tell yourself it’s probably a good thing; after all, you don’t need to overanalyze everything, right? but then again, why does it feel so heavy?

you end up spending the day at home, alone with your thoughts. the weekend was supposed to be simple, a break from the usual, but now you can’t shake the feeling that it’s more complicated than that. haechan has always been complicated, but now you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something, not sure whether to jump or step back.

session twenty two - monday the 11th

by the time monday rolls around, you’re feeling restless. there’s a shift in your mood. a nervous energy that you can’t shake off, and when you step into school, it feels like you’re waiting for something to happen. you can’t decide if it’s anticipation or dread, but either way, you’re drawn back to the tutoring session.

when haechan finally walks into the classroom, you can’t tell if he’s acting like everything is normal or if he’s pretending. he gives you a short wave, but it’s not his usual playful smile. it’s different now. there’s something more cautious in his movements.

you both settle into your usual rhythm—he’s late, of course, but he’s quieter today. you’re not sure if that’s because of the weekend or if it’s something else entirely.

the session goes well, mostly. it’s like before, in the sense that you both get through the work, but there’s an added tension. he looks at you a little longer than he usually does, his eyes scanning your face as if he’s trying to understand something. the usual teasing is absent today, replaced by a different energy—more subtle, more cautious.

by the end of the session, you can’t help but feel like you’re caught in this strange, unspoken limbo between what you both were and what you might be. you still don’t know where it’s going, but you’re both standing at the edge, unsure whether to jump or wait to see what the next step will be.

—

session twenty three - wednesday the 13th

it’s the final session before the break, and everything feels different. the air feels thicker, charged with something neither of you are saying but both know is there. you both sit at the desk, the tension palpable, but neither of you are focused on the notes in front of you. it’s like the classroom walls are closing in, and neither of you can breathe easily.

you keep glancing over at him, trying to stick to the lesson, but he’s just… there, too close, too present. the words he’s saying are just noise in the background as his eyes flicker over you every time you speak, his gaze heavy, simmering. you know it’s not just the subject anymore. something has shifted.

“you’re not listening,” you say, your voice sharper than you intend.

he looks at you, not surprised, but not unaffected either. “neither are you,” he replies, and there’s something in his voice that’s too calm. too knowing.

you press your lips together, trying to keep your composure. “well, you’re not even trying.”

he smirks, leaning back in his chair slightly. “again, neither are you.”

there’s a challenge in his voice, and it sets something off inside you. something snaps. you stand up more abrupt than you anticipate, trying to collect your thoughts but only feeling more overwhelmed by the space between you two. you feel like you’re suffocating under the weight of the tension, like there’s something about to break, and you don’t know if you want to stop it or let it happen.

you cross your arms, pacing around the small desk, trying to cool the heat you feel flooding your chest.

“why are you so difficult?” you murmur, more to yourself than him.

“because you make it easy,” he says, voice low, leaning forward, his eyes locked on you in a way that makes your knees weak.

he stands up slowly, the movement purposeful, and your heart skips a beat. the space between you is closing, and before you can make sense of what’s happening, he’s there, standing right in front of you.

his hand brushes against yours, and you feel it like a spark, his fingers just grazing yours before he holds your wrist lightly, tugging you closer to him. you can’t move, rooted in place by something deeper than just attraction.

and then he kisses you.

it’s a kiss that’s full of everything you’ve been holding back. the anger, the frustration, the need for something more that you don’t know how to name. it’s messy, urgent, like both of you are desperate to see how far you can go without letting go. your hands find their way to his chest, pushing against him as you kiss him back, just as hungry, just as eager.

you feel his grip on your wrist tighten, pulling you closer as his other hand slides to your waist. the kiss deepens, and the world around you disappears. it’s just you and him, the heat of his lips against yours, the press of his body against yours.

you can’t help but give in, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, your breath coming faster as the intensity builds.

and then, just as suddenly, it breaks.

you pull back, hands trembling, and you stare at him, your heart pounding against your ribs.

you feel guilty.

you glance away, trying to catch your breath, but all you can hear are the voices from the past—the warnings your parents gave you, the things they said about boys like him.

“boys like him are trouble.”

the words echo in your mind like a warning. trouble.

you can’t ignore it. your heart sinks, and a cold wave of uncertainty washes over you. this is trouble.

you step back, trying to create some distance, trying to make sense of it all. “this isn’t… supposed to happen.”

he stays silent for a beat, his expression unreadable. then, quietly, he says, “i don’t want to stop.”

you shake your head, backing away, but you can’t seem to find the words. everything’s spinning in your head. he’s trouble, but you want him.

“haechan,” you whisper, feeling a rush of heat rise to your cheeks, “i—this was a mistake.”

he doesn’t say anything, just watches you as you grab your things, your heart heavy in your chest.

you don’t know how to fix this, don’t know how to untangle the mess you’ve just made of your feelings. you only know that walking away is the only thing you can do right now, even if every step you take feels like it’s pulling you away from him and yet dragging you closer at the same time.

you leave without another word, but as you walk down the hall, your mind is still stuck on him.

this isn’t what i signed up for… but then again, maybe it was.

—

the following night is unusually still, and you lie awake, mind tangled in the events of the past week. your thoughts keep drifting back to him—the kiss, the way he pulled away, and the uncertainty that followed. you toss and turn, trying to shake off the feeling, but it’s like something’s pulling you in. just as you start to think you’re finally starting to calm down, a soft knock at your window breaks through the silence.

your heart jumps in your chest, and for a second, you freeze. there’s no mistaking who it is. haechan.

you rush to the window, heart racing, but you pause for a brief moment to glance at your door—your parents are just down the hall. still, curiosity outweighs caution, and you push the blinds up quietly, barely believing your eyes.

there he is, his silhouette framed against the dim streetlights outside, standing on the roof near your window with that familiar, confident smirk that sends a strange rush through you.

“how’d you get up here?” you whisper after opening the window, your voice shaky, heart still pounding in your ears.

he shrugs as though it’s the most normal thing in the world, but you can’t ignore the way his arm strains as he grips the window sill, his veins flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt. your eyes flicker down to his arms, and for a moment, you forget to breathe, your gaze catching on the way the muscles ripple as he pulls himself up with a small thud.

you wince, then immediately shush him, raising a finger to your lips in an exaggerated, playful gesture. “my parents are gonna hear you!”

he flashes that trademark grin, but it’s softer this time—almost sheepish, like he wasn’t expecting this much resistance. “sorry,” he whispers, giving you a quick, apologetic wink before pulling himself through the window with a bit more flair than necessary. you can feel the heat radiating off him as he steps inside, and for a brief second, you both just stand there in the quiet of the room.

there’s an awkward pause as he dusts himself off, glancing around your room as if trying to find a reason for being here, but then his eyes land on you. his expression softens just a little, that familiar cockiness fading away for a second.

“didn’t mean to sneak up on you, but… figured i’d take a risk. can’t sleep, you know?”

you laugh softly, a little nervously, though you can’t quite explain why. there’s something about him being here, standing in your room in the dead of night, that’s thrilling in a way you’re not ready to admit. “did you…climb the tree?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“yeah,” he grins, his tone light, almost teasing. “it’s not that hard. plus, i thought i’d get your attention somehow.” he shrugs as if this is a totally reasonable thing to do. but when his eyes meet yours, there’s something behind them. something vulnerable, something unspoken.

“you’re crazy,” you mutter, but there’s no malice behind it. instead, your voice is soft, fond. you step back instinctively as he moves toward you, not sure if you want to step away or let him close the gap. you should be more concerned that he was here. if your parents found out, you have no idea what kind of reaction they’d have.

he looks at you for a moment, his gaze flickering over your face like he’s studying every detail. you can feel the tension building between the two of you, and even though you know you should step back again, you stay rooted to the spot. there’s a pull between you that neither of you can ignore.

“i just… couldn’t stop thinking about everything. about you,” he admits, the words coming out quieter than usual. he doesn’t sound like the usual confident haechan; there’s a vulnerability in his voice now, something raw that you’ve never heard before.

you blink, caught off guard. the air feels thick with unspoken words, and for a second, you’re at a loss for how to respond. your heart hammers in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you move a little closer to him.

his eyes widen slightly when you step forward, but he doesn’t move away. instead, he reaches for your hand slowly, almost hesitantly. his fingers brush over yours, the lightest touch that sends a jolt through you. it’s so quiet, so soft, but it feels like the whole world has paused. you glance down at his hand—his fingers are rough, the veins on his arms standing out against his skin.

you look back up at him, meeting his eyes, and he squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, almost intimate motion. there’s a quiet understanding between the two of you, a silent acknowledgment of everything that’s been building between you.

“you’re here,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, but it feels like it carries the weight of everything you haven’t been able to say.

he gives a small, lopsided grin, his thumb still moving over your hand. “yeah. i guess i am.”

and then, without another word, he leans in, and this time, when your lips meet, it’s not chaotic. it’s slow, deliberate, like the two of you are finally giving in to something you’ve been avoiding. his hand slides up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as if he’s memorizing the feel of you.

the kiss is soft at first, tentative, but it deepens as the moments stretch on, his other hand moving to gently to him by your back, pulling you closer. everything else fades away. the hesitation, the uncertainty and you lose yourself in it.

when you finally pull back, both of you are breathing a little heavier, the space between you still charged with the emotions neither of you knew how to express. you glance at the door again, your mind briefly flashing to the consequences of this. but for a moment, you don’t care.

“this is… insane,” you whisper, your voice trembling just slightly.

he leans his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “i know. but i don’t think i can stay away.”

for a moment, you both just stand there, breathless, sharing the same quiet understanding. you’ve crossed a line you never thought you would, and for the first time, you’re not sure what comes next. but you know this: you can’t go back. not now.

—

after that night, everything changes. things between you and haechan aren’t just charged—they’re different. there’s no more pretending that what happened didn’t mean something.

friday the 15th

the next day at school, he’s there—leaning against his locker like usual, surrounded by his close group of friends, but his eyes are on you the second you walk in. it’s not just a glance this time. it’s intentional, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll look at him, if you’ll acknowledge what happened between you the night before.

your heart races, but you force yourself to act normal. your parents had been none the wiser about his late-night visit, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still thinking about it. thinking about him. you take a deep breath and head toward your first class, but just as you pass him, his fingers catch your wrist. it’s subtle, barely a touch, but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“you’re not gonna ignore me now, are you?” his voice is low, teasing, but there’s something real underneath it.

“not here,” you murmur, pulling your hand away, your face heating up as you disappear into the crowd.

you glance around—people are watching. of course they are. it was unusual for a student like and a student like him to interact. let alone lee haechan and you.

but you can feel his gaze on you for the rest of the day.

after school -

he catches up to you before you can leave, cutting you off near the entrance. “so, sunshine, are we gonna talk about last night? or are you just gonna pretend i didn’t climb a damn tree for you?”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you could’ve fallen.”

“but i didn’t,” he grins, stepping closer, dropping his voice so only you can hear. “what, you worried about me?”

you are, but you won’t admit that. you sigh. “i don’t know what you expect me to say.”

his smirk fades just slightly, a flicker of something more serious in his eyes. “say it wasn’t nothing.”

you hesitate, because you can’t say that. you won’t lie. but you also don’t know what this is.

before you can respond, a voice calls your name from behind. one of your classmates. someone who shouldn’t be seeing you with him like this.

“i have to go,” you say quickly, stepping away.

he doesn’t stop you, but as you walk away, you hear him call out, just loud enough for you to hear—

“i’ll see you later, sunshine.”

and you know you will.

saturday night -

you get a text from him.

haechan: come outside

your heart leaps into your throat. you glance at your bedroom door, listening carefully. your parents are still awake. sneaking out has never been something you’ve even considered before, but now…

your fingers hover over your phone.

you: are you insane?

haechan: probably. but i wanna see you.

you hesitate. but only for a second.

and then, for the first time, you take the risk.

—

the door clicks softly behind you as you step onto the porch, the night air brushing cool against your skin. you shiver slightly, but you ignore it, your pulse already picking up when you spot haechan waiting just beyond the porch light’s glow, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.

he steps forward as you approach, but then—he stops.

his eyes flicker down, lingering.

you suddenly realize what you’re wearing—silk shorts, the kind with delicate lace at the hem, barely brushing mid-thigh. paired with a thin, loose sweater, it’s nothing that scandalous, but under his gaze, you feel the heat creeping up your neck.

his tongue swipes over his bottom lip before he exhales, tilting his head. “damn, sunshine. if i knew sneaking into your thoughts at night got me this kind of welcome, i would’ve done it sooner.”

you cross your arms, giving him an unimpressed look despite the warmth spreading in your chest. “i wasn’t exactly expecting company.”

he hums, taking another step closer. “yeah? so you just wear this to bed every night?” his voice dips lower, teasing, but there’s something else there.

you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way your stomach tightens. “are you done staring?”

his smirk deepens. “not even close.”

“why are you even here?” you sigh, trying to steer the conversation before you combust under his gaze.

his expression shifts slightly, something more serious flickering beneath the teasing. “couldn’t sleep.” he shrugs, eyes still on you but softer now. “kept thinking about you.”

your breath hitches. you weren’t expecting that.

you hesitate, shifting on your feet. “and what exactly were you thinking about?”

he doesn’t hesitate. “that kiss. both of them.”

you inhale sharply, your heart picking up speed.

he watches you carefully, stepping just close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “tell me i’m the only one who’s been losing sleep over it,” he murmurs. “tell me you don’t think about it too.”

you should brush it off. should laugh, roll your eyes, push him away like you always do.

but you don’t.

“…maybe a little.”

his lips quirk, but it’s not his usual cocky smirk—it’s softer. more real.

“thought so.”

before you can even react, his fingers find yours, brushing over your knuckles before lacing them together. it’s slow, deliberate—like he’s testing the waters, waiting for you to pull away.

you don’t.

he exhales a quiet laugh. “you’re in trouble, sunshine.”

you swallow. “why?”

his thumb traces over the back of your hand, and when he looks at you, there’s something almost fond in his eyes.

“’cause now that i’ve got you like this,” he murmurs, “i don’t think i can let go.”

—

you should go back inside. your parents are asleep just down the hall, and this is the kind of thing they warned you about. sneaking out into the night with a boy like him, hand in hand, heart racing in ways it shouldn’t.

but you don’t let go.

“come on,” he says, his grip tightening just slightly, like he’s afraid you might change your mind. “let’s go somewhere.”

“what? where?” you ask, but you’re already following him down the steps, his hand warm against yours.

he smirks, eyes glinting in the dim light. “trust me.”

and for some reason, you do.

—

the night air is crisp, cool against your skin as the two of you walk through the quiet streets. neither of you say much at first, just the soft scuff of your footsteps on the pavement, the occasional flickering of a streetlight overhead. it’s reckless, it’s stupid, but for some reason, it feels right.

he leads you toward a small park a few blocks away, one you haven’t been to in years. it looks different at night—emptier, quieter, like a hidden world that only the two of you know about.

“seriously?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “you dragged me out of bed for a playground?”

haechan grins, tugging you toward the swings. “come on, sunshine. live a little.”

you huff, but you sit anyway, the chains creaking slightly as you lean back. he takes the swing next to yours, feet planted on the ground, arms draped lazily over the chains.

for a moment, neither of you speak. the city hums softly in the distance, a car passing now and then, but here, in this little forgotten space, it feels like you’re in your own world.

then he breaks the silence.

“so,” he says, voice quieter now. “are you gonna tell me why you kissed me back?”

your fingers tighten around the swing’s chains.

you should lie. should brush it off, make a joke, something.

but instead, you glance at him, finding him already watching you, his usual smirk nowhere in sight.

“…i don’t know,” you admit.

he exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “wrong answer, sunshine.”

you frown. “oh? and what’s the right one?”

he leans in slightly, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him even in the cool night air. his voice drops, teasing but serious all at once.

“that you can’t get me out of your head, either.”

your breath catches.

you could argue. you could deny it. but instead, you just look at him, your heart pounding, and realize—maybe you don’t want to.

—

the morning after sneaking out with haechan, everything feels different.

your room is the same, the sun filtering through your curtains, casting warm streaks of light across your sheets. your parents are in the kitchen, the smell of coffee and toast drifting down the hall like any other saturday morning. nothing has changed.

except it has.

because your mind won’t stop replaying the night before. his voice, his hands, the way he looked at you under the dim glow of the streetlights, with that same dark eyeliner you’ve grown to like. the way he leaned in just close enough that you thought he might kiss you again but never did. the way your heart had pounded the entire walk back home, fingers still tingling from where he had held them, warm and steady.

and the worst part?

you didn’t want it to end.

you go through the day pretending everything is normal.

you do your chores, respond to messages, attempt to start your homework—but it all feels distant, like your mind is somewhere else entirely. every time your phone lights up, you half expect it to be him. but it never is.

and then, just when you think you might be going crazy, your mom’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“you’ve been distracted all morning.”

you blink, looking up from your untouched notebook at the kitchen table. your parents are sitting across from you, your dad flipping through the newspaper, your mom watching you with knowing eyes.

“i’m fine,” you say quickly, too quickly.

she hums, not convinced. “it’s not about that boy, is it?”

your heart stops. “what?”

your dad turns a page in the newspaper, not looking up. “the one you’ve been tutoring,” he says simply. “you know, the one we told you to be careful around.”

your pulse stutters. “it’s—no, of course not.”

your mom raises an eyebrow. “really? because ever since those sessions started, you’ve been acting a little… different.”

“and now you’re all spaced out,” your dad adds, still not looking up. “not getting a crush on him, are you?”

you scoff, forcing out a laugh that sounds almost believable. “as if.”

your mom exhales, satisfied for now. “good. boys like that, they’re nothing but trouble.”

your chest tightens. they don’t know anything. “so you’ve told me.” you sigh.

but instead of arguing, you just nod, mumbling something about needing to study before quickly escaping back to your room.

and the moment the door clicks shut behind you, your phone finally buzzes.

haechan: you up, sunshine?

you hesitate for half a second, holding back the small tug at your lips before responding.

you: yeah, why?

his reply comes instantly.

haechan: meet me? same spot.

your heart skips. you don’t even hesitate.

you: be there in 10.

—

the air feels heavier, like the wind is carrying something unspoken between you. you spot him before he sees you—leaning against the swing set, hoodie pulled over his head, one hand twisting a silver ring around his finger. he looks lost in thought, gaze fixed on the ground until he hears your footsteps.

his head lifts, and when he sees you, his lips twitch into a smirk—lazy, like he knew you’d come.

“thought maybe you wouldn’t show,” he says, rocking back on his heels.

you cross your arms, standing a few steps away. “why?”

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “figured maybe you started listening to your parents.”

you raise a brow. “you’re eavesdropping now?”

nah,” he says easily, stepping closer. “just know how people see me.”

you don’t respond. instead, you take a step closer, letting the silence settle between you.

“so,” you say after a beat, “why’d you call me out here?”

he exhales, tilting his head as he watches you. “needed to see you.”

the words come so easily, like he didn’t even have to think about them. like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your pulse stutters, but you keep your expression even. “and now that you have?”

he grins, stepping closer until there’s barely any space between you. “now?” his voice drops lower, eyes flickering over your face. “now i wanna know why you came.”

you swallow. why did you?

you should have ignored his message, should have listened to every warning sign telling you to stay away.

but standing here, heart pounding, heat rolling off him in waves—

you realize you don’t regret a damn thing.

“i wanted to see you too.” you say lowly.

—

after that night, something shifts.

it starts slow—an unspoken understanding, a magnetic pull that neither of you acknowledge but never fight.

one night turns into another. and then another.

sometimes, he climbs through your window just to talk, arms crossed against your windowsill, voice hushed as he tells you about his day. other times, he doesn’t talk at all, just pulls you close and kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

and maybe you should be afraid too—afraid of how easy it is to let this happen, to want more. but you’re not.

—

you find yourself around him more at school, too.

it’s not obvious, not at first—just stolen glances across the hallway, his shoulder brushing yours when he passes by, the flicker of a smirk when he catches you looking.

but then he starts waiting for you after class, hands stuffed in his pockets, always acting like he just happened to be there. like it wasn’t intentional.

and you let him.

because somehow, being near him feels natural now. even with the tutoring sessions over. he seemed to be doing pretty well in science now anyway.

—

the nights are different. the nights are yours.

sneaking out is reckless, dangerous, a risk you wouldn’t have taken before. but now? now it’s routine.

sometimes, you meet at the park, swinging lazily under the glow of the streetlights. sometimes, he drags you into the city, leading you through neon-lit streets, hands brushing in the dark.

and sometimes—most nights, actually—he’s at your window.

it always starts the same way: a faint rustling, the quiet scrape of sneakers against bark, and then, moments later, his head poking through the window frame with a grin.

“you’ve got to stop leaving this unlocked, sunshine,” he teases, even though you both know you won’t.

and every time, without fail, you roll your eyes, but you don’t stop him when he pulls himself inside, muscles flexing, veins prominent under his skin as he steadies himself.

the first few times, you told yourself this was temporary—just a phase, just him being him.

but then there’s a night where he doesn’t just talk, doesn’t just steal a few kisses before leaving.

there’s a night where he lingers.

where his hands settle on your waist, where he backs you up against your wall, where the air between you is thick with something unspoken, something dangerous.

where he kisses you deeper, hands tracing slow patterns against your skin, like he’s memorizing you.

where you let him.

because at some point, you stopped trying to fight this. stopped trying to pretend you didn’t want it.

because at some point, you stopped caring that he was the kind of boy your parents warned you about.

—

it was one of the nights he had skipped into your room, you greeted him with a smile and things went from there.

his breath is warm against your lips, hands gripping your waist as he backs you into the wall.

he’s been teasing all night—touching you just enough to leave you wanting more, murmuring things in that low, rough voice that made your pulse stutter. but now? now there’s no space left between you, and neither of you are trying to fight it.

his fingers press into your sides, slow and steady, like he’s testing how much you’ll let him take. his lips brush yours once, twice—just enough to make you chase him before he finally kisses you like he means it.

and you let yourself fall into it.

your hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, tugging just enough to draw a quiet groan from his throat. his body presses closer, chest rising and falling against yours, the heat between you dizzying.

“you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he murmurs against your lips, voice thick, almost strained.

you don’t even get the chance to answer before he kisses you again, harder this time, like he’s losing whatever little patience he had left.

his hands slip under your shirt, fingertips skimming your skin, sending shivers up your spine. and you should stop this, should put some distance between you before it’s too late—

but then his hands tighten on your hips, and you feel the way his heart is racing just as fast as yours, and god—

you don’t want to stop.

“tell me to leave,” he murmurs, lips trailing along your jaw, down to the hollow of your throat.

you swallow hard, tilting your head back as he presses closer, as his hands continue their slow exploration.

“tell me you don’t want this,” he says again, but there’s no teasing in his voice this time—just something raw, something vulnerable, something almost pleading.

and you should. you should.

instead, your grip tightens in his hair, and you whisper back, “i don’t want you to.”

his response is immediate—his hands slide lower, pulling you flush against him, and he groans against your lips like he’s just lost whatever last shred of control he had.

“fuck,” he exhales, forehead resting against yours. “you’re really gonna be the end of me, sunshine.”

but he doesn’t stop.

and neither do you.

—

when you finally pull your mouth from his, his lips are swollen, breath uneven as he leans into you, hands still firm on your waist like he can’t bring himself to let go just yet.

you don’t want him to.

but somewhere between the heat of his touch and the way his body presses against yours, reality creeps back in.

your parents are just down the hall.

he shouldn’t even be here.

“we should stop,” you murmur, though the words barely make it out, still breathless from the way he just kissed you.

he exhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he tilts his head back to look at you. his pupils are blown wide, jaw tight like he’s forcing himself to pull back.

“yeah,” he mutters, voice rough. “yeah, we should.”

but neither of you move.

his thumb brushes against your side, like he’s memorizing the feel of you.

“sunshine,” he says softly, like a warning.

you know you have to let him go.

but when he leans in one last time, mouth hovering just over yours, you don’t stop him.

“just one more?” he murmurs, but it’s a lie.

one more turns into two, then three, then a lingering kiss pressed to the corner of your lips, like he’s reluctant to leave you at all.

but eventually, he does.

he steps back first, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to ground himself, like he’s trying to pull himself together before he does something you’ll both regret.

“guess i should go before i completely fuck this up, huh?” he says, forcing a smirk, but you see the hesitation in his eyes.

you nod, but you don’t trust yourself to say anything.

he moves toward the window, but just before climbing out, he looks back, gaze flickering over you—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your fingers are still trembling just slightly.

and then, instead of saying goodbye, he just grins.

“try not to miss me too much,” he teases, but there’s something softer beneath the words. something real.

and with that, he’s gone, disappearing into the night like he was never there at all.

except—he was.

you press your fingers against your lips, as if you can still feel him there, and then, you smile.

it’s embarrassing, the way your stomach flutters, the way your cheeks heat up, the way you actually giggle like some lovesick schoolgirl.

you should not be this giddy over a boy like him.

but you are.

and you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore.

—

it was another saturday night, around 12am, your parents long gone to bed.

his hands are warm against your skin, fingers teasing under the hem of your shirt as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer.

you’re not even thinking anymore—just moving, just feeling. stumbling over your own feet as he walks you back, laughing quietly when you almost trip over a pile of books.

“shh,” you whisper, barely suppressing a giggle.

he grins against your lips. “that was you.”

“doesn’t matter,” you breathe, fingers curling into his shirt, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath the fabric. “just be quiet.”

he hums in amusement, hands sliding up your sides, his touch slow, deliberate, testing. “you always tell me what to do, sunshine?”

“someone has to.”

“mm,” he leans in, lips brushing your jaw, hands slipping beneath your shirt, pushing the fabric up just slightly—waiting for permission.

you exhale, whispering a word of approval.

he doesn’t hesitate. he tugs your shirt up, just enough to expose more of your skin—

knock.

the door swings open.

“what are you doing—?”

you freeze.

haechan freezes.

your mom stands in the doorway, eyes locking onto the scene in front of her—haechan’s hands still on you, his hoodie discarded on the floor, your shirt lifted just enough to make it painfully obvious what was happening.

for a second, no one moves.

no one breathes.

haechan is the first to react, stepping back so fast he almost knocks over your chair. he runs a hand through his hair, like he’s trying to play it cool, like there’s any coming back from this.

you don’t dare turn around.

your heart pounds in your chest, face burning hotter than ever before. this time not with the same heat.

your mom inhales sharply, voice eerily calm.

“downstairs. now.”

the finality in her tone sends a chill down your spine.

haechan glances at you, expression unreadable, but you can’t look at him.

because this time, you’re really in trouble.

—

It’s always the same with him. Said slowly and intentionally. 사 slips from his teeth, lower pitched than its following counterpart. 랑 finds itself in a higher register, flicked off the tip of his tongue as it presses against the roof of his mouth. 사랑 is a familiar, practiced word when verbalized, but not so much when it’s written.

Something that Jaehyun is endlessly grateful for, considering the fact that he finds himself tracing it on your body any time he has the chance.

It never started off intentionally, this pseudo-confession of his. It was an accident, like most bad habits are, after one too many three dollar shots at some shitty hole in the wall Taeyong recommended. You don’t understand Korean. Sure, a few words here and there, but nothing that makes you remotely coherent to anything he’s half-heartedly slurring in your general direction. This in and of itself doesn’t normally pose a problem.

But after his fifth shot? English words seem impossibly out of reach and his vocabulary reverts to what he’s most accustomed to.

“나는 이 노래를 사랑해요,”

His lips are pressed to the side of your head as he speaks. Voice barely audible over the pulse of the music and the quietness of his tone. Words reserved only for you, as if you had any chance of understanding them in full. The weight of his palm presses into your shoulder, fingers curling around the curve of it and slipping down to your bicep as he stumbles where he stands.

Jaehyun is glued to your side. Pressing every bit of himself against you in both a concentrated effort to keep standing and a selfish desire to be all over you without the consequence of his feelings being all too obvious. “난 그냥 취했을 뿐이야,” he’d slur to Taeyong after one too many knowing looks, brushing him off with a roll of his eyes and beginnings of a pout, “아무것도 아니야. 그냥 술을 너무 많이 마셨을 뿐이야.”

Your incapacitated counterpart’s blonde hair is sticking uncomfortably to the curves of his cheek and the back of his neck—roots grown in and dyed ends fraying—slick with sweat from the simmering heat of the dive. His tank top is in a similar state, now slightly sheer as it clings to his torso, the short-sleeved button up he was wearing as a jacket now long gone. It would be cooler if he weren’t hanging off of you, a point that Taeyong has brought up three times too many, but Jaehyun thinks he’d rather overheat than part from your side for more than half a second.

“You what?”

You can only catch the angle of his jaw from your peripheral, unable to move your head with the weight of his own pressing into it. You wish you could—see him, that is—so that perhaps you could read his lips. Sounding out the syllables slowly before he corrects you with a huffed out laugh. You’d probably catch more than one word that way, if you weren’t too distracted by the flush of his cheeks and droop of his eyes.

“나는 이 노래를 사랑해요,” he repeats, bridge of his nose brushing against the curve of your ear as he angles his head towards his shoulder. Words enunciated slowly, clearly, and a bit louder this time. An unconscious reaction from your inability to understand and one you’d appreciate more if it weren’t partially drowned out by the obnoxiously loud drunken chatter surrounding you.

“What about the song?”

You can hear him exhale, fingers squeezing your bicep in a gentle motion that you know is attributed more to frustration than affection (though perhaps Jaehyun would say it’s a little of both). But it’s not that your confusion over such a simple sentence is completely unfounded. The use of the formal 사랑해요 (saranghaeyo) isn’t necessarily wrong but…it’s an unusual word choice. 좋아한다 (joh-ahanda), to like, would be more fitting. To like a lot rather than to feel love for.

But Jaehyun has always been a romantic, never using 사랑 flippantly and attributing it to the things he truly does love rather than simply like. Like this song.

And you.

“사랑,” the hand unoccupied with being wrapped around you is quick to get ahold of your own, “사랑해요. 나는 이 노래를 사랑해요. 사랑해,”

Jaehyun’s fingers clumsily trace the hangul onto the back of your palm. Over and over again with each repetition. As if you had any sense of what the shaky, uncoordinated strokes of his finger meant. It’s an earnest effort, one that probably wouldn’t have helped even if you were able to gather what he was spelling out with the way he keeps sloppily combining the characters together.

“Love,” he slurs, accent unusually heavy in a way that makes the ‘L’ sound more like an ‘R’, “사랑해,”

The second time he found himself writing the word, it was more purposeful with little intent of teaching. And the third. The fourth. The tenth. So on and so forth. It’s hard, honestly, to encapsulate every bit of what he feels for you in either variation of the phrase; I love you.

Three measly words that he wears out in his head, stretching them thin with overuse. He loves everything you do, everything about you. How can that be explained in such a simple phrase? 새상에 너밖에 없어 seems more fitting, though even that falls short (and is perhaps more embarrassing to say aloud).

Jaehyun finds himself drawing 사랑해 on your arm whenever you sit next to him on the couch. Your back whenever he makes the mistake of sharing your “queen” (it’s barely a full) sized bed for a sleepover. On your pulse point at dinner. Your thigh when he’s driving. He murmurs it into every hug, every shove of his shoulder when you can’t help but burst into laughter, every squeeze of your hand, every touch. It’s second nature. To trace the characters in long, languid strokes of his finger. Effortless and unconscious. Something that now comes to him as naturally as breathing.

사랑해. I love you.

When you do ask, what he’s drawing, he only hums. Red hot embarrassment prickling at his ear lobes, flushing down his neck and resting in his cheeks like he had been caught red handed (which for all intents and purposes he had been). Face a color that could rival a stop sign as he raises the back of his hand in a poor attempt to hide his flustered reaction. Eyes looking everywhere but your own as he clears his throat. “Nothing,” he says with a nervous laugh, “Just drawing.”

Jaehyun’s always been a terrible liar; his tells are much too obvious for his own good. But you don’t push him for an honest answer. Whatever it really is, it doesn’t bother you. So you drop the subject. It’s nice—his hands on you. Even if he does act like he’s never touched another person before in such an affectionate way (he has, but none of those people were you).

It becomes something you expect, something you look for in the pauses of your conversations. Something you find yourself trying to recreate—tracing the same shapes into the palm of your hand, trying to recall the lazy rhythm of Jaehyun’s own fingers. Not knowing what it means, but writing it nonetheless.

사랑해. I love you.

🦌: every time i write for jaehyun i think of the worst aura loss of my entire life where i fumbled him so horrifically during our fancall and i have to shut my laptop and go take a walk

talking to strangers has always been something that just came natural. growing up, there is not one person you couldn’t make as a friend, you loved learning about all kinds of different people and hearing their stories. your life changed when you met your best friend, mark, you’d been an exchange student in vancouver. you were transferring into grade 12 and with him being in the same grade, he was paired up with you to show you around. you noticed how mark was initially shy at first, so you did all the talking. he always listened and responded when you asked questions about the school, city, and himself. soon, you both became good friends and by the time graduation came around you both became inseparable.

but of course all good things must come to an end, mark told you he was moving to korea. you swore the earth under you shook as your vision went black and a huge lump formed in your throat. you had friends; practically everyone in the school knew your name, but no one else was like mark. ‘maybe you can apply and we can attend together,’ he added to the news, trying to be hopeful. you laughed through the tears that threatened to fall past your waterline, ‘i’ll try my hardest’

graduation came and went, and mark had left in the middle of summer. You both cried in the airport as you sent him off. you refused to let him go, clutching onto his jacket and grasping him tighter every time he tried to pull away making you both giggle despite the tears running down your faces. ‘please come visit me soon, did you apply to the exchange program?’ he asked.

you nodded, gazing up into his big, brown eyes, ‘you know you’re my best friend right? no one can ever replace you’

‘same to you, never forget that’ you nodded again and hugged him one last time before you actually let him go, mark turned one last time to give you a small smile.

‘im sorry to inform you that your application to study abroad in seoul, south korea was rejected at this time…’ you trailed off, leaning over your desk to get a better look at the email.

‘damn’ your friend eric spoke from your bed, not even looking up from his phone, ‘that sucks’

you whipped your chair around now facing him, face red with anger and frustration, ‘this is the only college i applied to over the summer! what am i going to do!?’ you cried.

he glanced up from his phone, now putting it down realizing how dire the situation was for you, ‘just wait until the next round of applications start and reapply’ he shrugged.

you sighed, shoulders dropping in defeat, ‘yeah, i guess thats the only thing left’

you rolled back over to you desk and grabbed your phone, immediately opening your messages with mark, you knew he was asleep due to the time difference, but you had to tell him now.

‘bad news mark… i got rejected from the study abroad application’

you didn’t expect a texting bubble to pop up from him, ‘just apply to study here full time, as a student’ he responded. you started to text but stopped as another one came through, ‘not as a study abroad student but as like a student student, u know?’

you thought about it, but four years in korea? you haven’t given it much thought, but then again… when have you ever had anything really planned out? you lived on spontaneous mode at all times. ‘i’ll look into it’ you replied. two weeks later, you got accepted as a full time student for the next four years, applying as soon as you stopped your conversation with mark and encouragement from eric. he even paid for the late application fee. you were finally going to be reunited with your best friend and get to experience a whole new world with him, you thought nothing could get better.

‘guys, my best friend is coming to live here’ mark looked up from his phone with a gleaming smile on his face.

his first roommate, haechan was the first to respond, ‘i thought i was your best friend?’

jaemin, his second roommate played along and frowned at the older boy, ‘yeah, i didn’t know you had other friends’

mark rolled his eyes, ‘that's not the point! i can have multiple best friends. we’ve been talking about this since we graduated from secondary school, she’s coming here to attend the same college as us’ he explained.

‘SHE!?’ haechan basically jumped from his place on the worn couch, ‘this is new’

mark gave him a weird look, ‘i swear i’ve talked about her before…’ he sat down on the couch and got out his phone again, scrolling through his camera roll to find a picture of you both.

‘i think i’d remember if you talked about any girls’ jeno, his third roommate, chimed in.

mark clicked a picture of you both from graduation night, turning his phone around, the three other boys gathered around to look. jaemin immediately grabbed his phone, ‘she’s pretty’ he whispered, jeno nodded in agreement.

haechan laughed, ‘i’ve seen this picture before! on your moms facebook, not gonna lie, i thought she was your cousin’ making the other boys laugh.

mark just sighed, ‘please, everyone, be on your best behavior when she gets here’

mark talked about his friends in korea, a lot, knowing all their names and what they looked like already. so when you met them in person for the first time, you took them by surprise at how excited you were when you pointed to each one and recited their name. haechan thought it was cute, grabbing mark by the waist and saying, ‘aww markie talks about us’ in a baby voice while the older one tried to get away.

it was easy to get along with them, some more timid than the others, and you noticed but brushed it off. growing up extroverted had its pros and cons.

pros: lots of friends and always being the life of the party and funny one of the group.

cons: you are really annoying.

you didn’t want to scare any of mark's friends off, so you didn’t push as much as you would in any other situation. you could tell when the more hesitant ones in the group tried to open up, you appreciated it more than you could say. all of you knew how important it was to mark for everyone to get along, so the more you all hung out together, the easier it was to get closer and more comfortable.

by the time the second semester rolled around, everything was falling into place, except one thing that hasn’t seemed to left your mind. jaemin. you had gotten extremely close to everyone but jaemin. he was a tough nut to crack, but you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around the younger boy. you had asked mark about it a couple of times, but all he did was shrug and say ‘he’s an introvert, takes a while for him to warm up to certain people, i’m sure you’ll get him soon’ yeah jaemin was nice to you, but you weren’t as close with him as the others were to you, he was perfect, and you wanted him to like you. right when you got close, he was just always out of reach.

he was handsome, respectful, and just someone you always wanted to be around. he was loved on campus by everyone, always having something good to say about him. when you first met him in person your heart skipped a beat, if you asked anyone you’d expect them to say the same. he was always so nice to you in group settings, but you can recall times when you’d be left alone with him, and he’d somehow have the perfect excuse to be anywhere else but with you.

at first, you didn’t take it personally because you were still new to the friend group. now it was your third year of university, and you felt like you’ve made small progress. you’d send him funny cat instagram reels, and he’d send you outfits and ask for your opinion. it slowly progressed to walking to class together, despite it being in total silence. at group parties, you’d be talking to a group of random strangers and your eyes would always find his, always sitting off to the side. your curious eyes would watch as girls would try to talk to him, he’d always rub the back of his neck as he said something to them that would make them walk away a second later. so, at least, you knew it wasn’t just you that made him shy. however, you always come back to the time when you had went over to haechan’s with mark. a party with alcohol of course, first time you went over to his apartment it was hard to noticed his collection in the giant cabinet. you had been about 5 shots in with two beers downed, wandering around the apartment talking to anyone who stopped you. you walked into the living room to find jaemin on the couch talking to renjun, before you could even think your feet made your way to them, sitting directly next to jaemin. he glanced over at you, turned back to renjun, and then finally realized it was you. the brown haired boy smiled wide and threw his arms around your neck, pulling you in tight.

‘ynnnnnn’ he cried, he definitely had had a couple of drinks. you giggled and tried to match his beaming smile. he was hot to the touch, the jacket he had arrived in long discarded, a white tank top that put his defined arms on display for everyone. but they were around you. knowing that if you weren’t influenced by the liquid luck tonight you’d be freaking out. he leaned away but kept one arm draped over you. jaemin’s other hand reached for his drink on the small table in front of you, leaning over and bringing you with him. ‘yn, how is your night going?’

‘pretty well, i’m meeting a lot of new people!’ you said with vigor.

jaemin replied with a playful smile, ‘but no one to replace us right?’

with your clouded vision and fuzzy brain you put your free hand over his chest, leaned in ‘oh jaemin, no one could ever replace you’

him and renjun laughed out loud, and jaemin held on to you tighter, pleased by your answer ‘aigoo, that’s so cute’ he whispered in your ear. your eyes went wide and your face went hot in surprise. you tried to laugh it off, your body buzzing from the alcohol and shyness from jaemin’s comment. jaemin started asking you questions about classes and suggested hidden gems in seoul he could take you to. you sat and listened, nodding along to anything he said while you both nursed your drinks together. lost in thought and of each other, not noticing that renjun had already left, in fact, no one in the room existed right now. the world seemed to move slower with jaemin, he was so attentive and receptive. you were telling him a story about your professor giving you two days to write a 10 page essay but also making sure you do five pages of reading along with a discussion board. he reacted like he was taking the class with you, gasping loudly and getting just as angry as you were. ‘that’s insane, does she not realize that you have other classes too!? that’s literally not fair’ he pouted and you giggled, happy that he ranted with you about it instead of giving you advice on how to finish all of your homework, something most people did.

you both continued talking until mark sauntered over to you, grabbing you by the shoulders, ‘yn, we gotta go home’ he slurred out, shaking your shoulders. you and jaemin glanced up at him, wincing away when you smelled the alcohol on him. ‘jisung is picking us up, he here’s now yn’ your eyes wandered to the door, the tall black haired boy stood there awkwardly staring at his feet, keys in hand obviously waiting for you both.

you nodded and jaemin gripped you closer for a moment, making your breath hitch in your throat, ‘get home safe, princess’ he whispered in your ear. he let go, you got up and made your way to jisung, with mark trailing behind.

you laid bed thinking about jaemin non-stop. tossing and turning, you could still feel him in the air, his warmth, smooth skin, and sweet scent. it encapsulated you, closing your eyes you saw his face. nose perfectly pointed, pink lips glistening and plump, a face with barely any blemishes. he was surely going to haunt your dreams.

it was a hard day at university and all you wanted to do was go back to your apartment and crawl into your bed and watch movies until you crash. during your last class, mark had texted you, saving you from the exhausting math lesson.

‘can u come over later around 5pm?’

under the table you quickly shot him a text back, ‘i guess, can i come earlier and chill on ur couch?’ if you had to go anywhere you might as well head after class and stay there. by the time your classes would end, mark would still be in his, but it wouldn’t be the first time you’d be lying on his couch alone. an hour later and still no text back from mark, surely he wouldn’t mind if you just headed to his place. so that's what you did.

once you got to his door, you got out the key he had given you when you first got to korea and unlocked his door, you put your bag into his room and then immediately made your way to his couch. settling in, you quickly close your eyes and fall into a little comfy nap. the door slammed shut, eyes slightly opening because of the loud noise, you had no clue what time it was, you figured it was mark finally coming back from class, you debated getting up and greeting him or just going back to sleep. your blood ran cold when you heard a different familiar voice that wasn’t mark’s speak. ‘i always get so nervous when i try to talk to her, like just being next to her just makes me sweat’ mark laughed.

her? you were basically wide awake now, your heart stopped. you kept your breathe steady as you could hear them rummaging around the kitchen behind you, thanking god that the couch faced opposite of the door. sinking further into the cushions in order to try and hide yourself better, you continued to listen while your heart sank, jaemin could be talking about anyone at this point. 

jaemin continued, ‘the only time we ever talked for more than an hour was at that party or when we are in a group setting’

‘it’s yn we're talking about’ mark started, ‘she’s… i don’t know how to put it, easy to talk to, i don’t know how she makes you so nervous’

the other boy scoffed, ‘of course she is, she’s perfect, i just feel so awkward and i don’t want to fuck anything up and embarrass myself and then she never wants to be seen with me out in public again…’ there was a pregnant pause, ‘i just really like her mark, she’s funny, outgoing, when she walks into a room you can feel the air… shift, its lighter, warmer, everyone turns to her like sunflowers and she’s the sun’

‘okay we get it shakespeare, you’re in love with her, you can’t keep living like this, it’s all you talk about, we literally had to make another group chat without you so we could get away from ‘yn this’ ‘yn that’’ mark exasperated, air quotes and all.

‘you guys have a group chat without me?’ you could basically hear jaemin’s pout as you tried to calm down your racing heart.

‘that’s not the point right now dude! you have to tell her, and soon. once you tell her, i’ll delete the group chat’ mark stated.

‘you know i get fomo’ jaemin whined, you tried not to laugh, that was something you had said all the time when you saw your other friends talk without you.

mark groaned, ‘god you are starting to sound like her now, i gotta go get a package from the mail room, yn’s actually coming over soon if you wanna stay and see her’ you could hear mark nudge jaemin with his elbow adding on a little ‘hm? hm? c’mon’

‘i really gotta finish this paper for econ’ jaemin explained, you could hear them walk towards the door, ‘maybe another time!’ the door opened, you could hear mark laugh.

‘yeah, econ, i’m sure it’s a lengthy essay’ you started to hear jaemin defense, but it quickly was drowned out by the door shutting and the walls now blocking you from listening any longer.

you jumped up from the couch, making sure they were really both gone, ‘what the fuck’ you cried out loud to yourself, rushing to mark’s room and climbing into his bed so it looked like you had been there the entire time, just sleeping and unsuspected of what was discussed.

you closed your eyes and steadied your breathing, ignoring when you could hear the door open through mark’s closed door. he shuffled around his kitchen before he finally opened his bedroom door.

‘what the?’ he wondered out loud, walking up the bed, he pushed away the sheets, ‘yn?’ you didn’t move, he shook you and you opened up your eyes, blinking them as if you just woke up from a deep sleep, ‘have you been here the whole time?’ his eyes were wide, you could tell he was hoping you didn’t hear anything he was talking about with jaemin, getting any answer out of you without stating the fact that his friend had come over.

‘mark?’ you sounded groggy, ‘yeah, i came after my last class finished, i was asleep the whole time though, i texted you… was someone else here?’

mark laughed nervously. ‘oh i guess i didn’t get it… and no it was just me, i went to the mail room to get a package my mom had sent me, snacks from canada, you want some?’ he tried to change the subject, grabbing your arms and forcing you out of bed and into the living room, onto the couch you were just on. you sat with mark, snacking on chips and whatever his mom sent him, listening to his day, but your thoughts set on jaemin.

and ever since that afternoon you had no clue how to function, avoiding jaemin as much as you could. you found it pretty hard as he was in the same friend group, now you found yourself sitting the furthest away from him. you tried to ignore the confused look he’d give you, walking away from him like he had carried every disease in the book. your heart breaking every time he looked like a kicked puppy. one worded answers when he occasionally texted you to start a conversation that ended three texts later. you barely talked in person anymore, and you feared everyone around you could tell. judging you for how rude you were treating your dear friend jaemin. it was war with yourself, you could talk to anyone, be friends with anyone you meet, so why was facing jaemin so hard?

it was another weekend and another party at haechan’s, mark had brought you along with him saying that ‘everyone was going to be there’ and ended his argument with ‘even jaemin’ which made you shrink into yourself. once you arrived at the party, mark immediately went to go get you a drink, saying you looked super stressed out and needed something to help you calm down. you sat down on the couch in the middle of the living room, waiting for him, watching people come and go, say hi and bye and ask how you are. being disinterested in any conversation was not your forte, but tonight you felt absent, everytime the door opened you’d look up, expecting something, trying your best to push out the thoughts screaming ‘jaemin jaemin jaemin’ like a mantra.

you stared down at your phone, pretending to look preoccupied as you ignored the creaking of the door, no staring, no emotions. scrolling through instagram like it was the most interesting thing at this small party. ‘waiting for someone?’ like a deer in headlights you looked up, only to see the one and only jaemin peering down at you.

‘um, no’ too quick of an answer that was way too suspicious. you internally cursed at yourself, stupid fucking idiot. his smile just grew, more playful, a sparkle in his eyes that said he was in control.

‘and i’m the introverted one’ he giggled, and you tried to laugh it off as if avoiding him was no big deal. but sitting under his gaze felt like you were the smallest person on earth. you could capture the attention of everyone in a room, tell a story with gestures and voices that made the room erupt in laughs, you always felt like you could do anything, no fear, no second guessing, but this was different. your heart thundered underneath the shirt that felt too tight and too hot. he had you cornered, when you didn’t answer, jaemin continued, ‘what’s gotten into you lately? you barely talk to me anymore’ you could tell it was a genuine question filled with concern, but playing it off with a pout at the end. his plump lips jutting out as you panicked and tried to collect any thoughts that weren’t about his lips and how the lip gloss shined under the light that hung in the middle of the room.

you had no words, no excuses to give him that were actually believable. jeno always joked about how you were the most chronically online member of the friend group, you couldn’t even argue. being known as an incredibly social person had its downsides. like now, being interrogated as to why you had the audacity to ignore him. when you didn’t answer, mouth opening and closing as if you had thought of anything, he walked away, going towards the kitchen. you watched, his back turned towards you, broad shoulders flexing under his tshirt. it was hard not to stare.

mark eventually brought you another drink, noticed your sinking mood and brought you around the room so you could have ‘human interaction’ and ‘not be on your damn phone the whole time’ as he put it. you reluctantly agreed, following him around, laughing along to conversations you were half listening to. that was until you heard jeno and jaemin speak from behind you. Peeking behind you, he was talking with haechan and renjun. you caught on to the conversation, drowning out the sound of mark telling a story in front of you.

haechan was talking about a girl he saw earlier, talking big ‘i’m going to make a move here soon’ with renjun giving him a ‘yeah i’m sure’ in response as jeno just laughed.

your ears perked as jaemin spoke next, ‘yeah i’ve been eyeing a couple girls myself, haven’t gotten laid in a while. what about you jeno?’ you tensed… other girls? but you were sure that he liked you, he only talked about you. suddenly feeling light headed and parched, you excused yourself in order to get another drink from the kitchen. you turned around after taking a shot of soju and chasing it down with an open white claw, stopping in your tracks, surprised to see jaemin standing there. both of you alone.

you turned back around, facing the island that held various liquor and soda. you still felt jaemins presence in the room, feel him burning holes through the back of your head, he had probably followed you in here after you left. you heard him taking steps towards you, but you tried to pay no attention, standing with your back towards him trying to regulate your heartbeat and clear your mind of any thoughts of him.

‘listening in on my conversations now?’ he whispered, you could feel the heat radiating off of him and your breath hitched.

‘heard nothing of the sorts’ you responded, trying your best to stand your ground.

you felt his breath on your neck as he chuckled, ‘bull shit’ a shiver ran down your spine.

you turned around and pushed past him despite all the room you both had, ‘i need a minute’ he was on your tail in a second, but you continued through the kitchen down the hall and to a random vacant bedroom. you tried closing the door, but his large hand stopped the door midway. you tried to budge it further, but he of course was too strong and just pushed it open, he stepped in and closed the door behind him. you just stood and glared at him with your arms crossed, ‘don’t you have other girls to go and talk to?’

his eyebrows shot up, surprised that you lashed out with such a brash and jealous comment after trying so hard to ignore him. you watched his face change from surprise to pleasure, lips curling up into a mischievous smile, oddly satisfied with your reaction, ‘oh, so you were listening?’ he crossed the room to where you stood, never taking his eyes off of you. the room was small, you were small, like prey waiting to get eaten up by their natural predator.

you instinctively moved backwards, getting out of his reach, but tonight you were not on the top of the food chain, he had you wedged against him and the bed. you refused to look up at him, terrified that your walls would crash and you’d become putty in his hands. ‘wouldn’t be the first time’ you confessed, looking down at his torso that was dangerously close to yours.

‘and what do you mean by that?’ his hands went to grip your shoulders, shaking you slightly, now it was an interrogation. he seemed almost angry, but jaemin never dared to ever raise his voice at you. you finally looked up into his eyes, the view of his big brown eyes searching for any answer, any playfulness that proved you were just messing with his emotions. ‘y/n’ he got your attention back.

‘that day, you got home with mark, i was already there,’ you told, his expression unreadable as his brows furrowed, ‘i heard what you said… about me’

he lets go of you, his arms dropping to his sides, ‘so… you knew this entire time? that i had feelings for you?’ his voice minor, pulling back and not as bold as he was a couple minutes ago, ‘and your reaction was to just ignore me?’

you peeled the skin of your fingers back, nervously darting your eyes around the dimly lit room, ‘jaemin, i’m sorry. i really am… i just didn’t know how to react’ it was a stupid reason and he knew.

jaemin scoffed, his tongue running over his teeth, holding himself back from saying anything else, ‘listen, i don’t have a good track record with my relationships, i have never felt… this way’ god, you couldn’t believe you were confessing all of this right now, in front of jaemin. you had people confess to you, but you had never felt quite the same. dates here and there that would never end up with anything concrete, and it scarred you. loving someone like jaemin terrified you, because what if you never lived up to his expectations? the way he described you to mark, what if you couldn’t be that for him? ‘i do like you back jaemin, but i just, i don’t know how to love’ you said meekly.

‘yn, you love everyday’ jaemin said, now coming back closer to you, his eyes growing softer. ‘you’d do anything for anyone, even strangers, i just think… you don’t know how to accept that love back’ you shook your head, sitting down on the bed in front of him, confused as to how he read you like that, how this became a surprise therapy session for a moment. you laughed, something you tended to do in tense situations. easing the pain instead of actually feeling it.

he sat down with you, encapsulating his big hand into yours. he laughed too, ‘you are not hard to love, i promise’ he whispered, moving closer to you, ‘can i show you?’ he asked. jaemin glanced down to your lips and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. the anticipation making your whole body vibrate as you nodded lightly. he slowly closed the gap between you both, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer to him. everything you imagined about his lips was exact, soft and dewy.

he deepened the kiss, bringing your body flush with his, you felt like you couldn’t keep up. he was fast and determined. his hands reached anywhere they could on your body. jaemin grabbed onto your thighs, rubbing his hands up and down, trying to calm you down. it felt grounding, just having him here with you, knowing that he is there for you and present. you squeezed his bicep, melting into him, shoulders relaxing into the rhythm with the way he was going. he let go, breaking away the kiss, you opened your eyes at the sudden loss of his touch. the silence in the room was replaced with light panting, he was smiling, he cheeks flushed red. your chest rose and fell with every bated breath, trying your best to keep your composure.

‘do you trust me?’ he asked in a hushed tone, staring deeply into your eyes. searching for any confirmation that you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you, all of you. ‘do you trust me to love you? i want to show you just how much’ he leaned in, kissing down your neck, tenderly grazing his hand up your back under your shirt. you closed your eyes, humming at his question, letting his touch comfort your worried mind. you always had no problem making friends, but you always kept that at a distance, never letting them get super close so you could keep up that outgoing facade at times. scared that if they ever really got to know you they could tell how boring you thought you were, see all of your flaws, they could probably see how you could come off as too trusting for others, people didn’t know you at all. but it seems like jaemin did, for a man of always few words he was always watching you, see how much of a face you put on. he wants to tell you how you could always be yourself around him, not afraid to be boring, not afraid to be silent, that you always don’t have to be the most entertaining person in the room.

you looked up at him, eyes glossy in ten different emotions, ‘i trust you jaemin’ you could see it in his eyes, the love and adoration that he felt towards you, he could see the real you, the one that was quiet and loud. he was hoping to love all of it, all he wanted to do was letting you in, and jaemin was eager to finally show you just how much he cared. with your answer he leaned into you, having you lay down on the bed and kissing down your neck to your chest. his hands wandered all throughout your body, properly exploring every inch. you hummed as he gripped your thigh, squeezing it as he reached the band of your shorts, asking for silent confirmation to go further.

you took your hands away from the back of jaemin’s neck, moving them to where his hands were resting on your shorts, you pulled them down for him and took them off. he followed your actions, tugging off the shirt over his head, and kicked off his jeans. your eyes traced over his body, the contours that made up his defined muscles and broad chest that shined with sweat under the soft lamp light. jaemin gazed down at you, a pleasing smile etched onto his face witnessing your reaction to him. moving down towards you again his mouth explored further, kissing your stomach after discarding your shirt. ‘you’re so beautiful’ he purred, you gasped as his hand reached your clit rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves. the sensation making you want to close your legs, but jaemin kept them open with his hand. ‘keep your legs open’ he teased, callused hand gripping the whole of your knee, tugging them to the side with ease as you tried to fight the feeling.

he angled his finger at your entrance, the slick that pooled between your legs made it slide in slowly with ease. it wasn’t your first time, but it had been awhile, making you tense up for a moment. jaemin noticed, ‘you’re doing so well for me, just relax’ you let out a breath, trying your best to turn off the anxious part of your brain and enjoy the moment of intimacy. your shoulders relaxed and your body dug more into the satin sheets under you. jaemin added another finger and moved his head down between your legs. he dove in like a madman, dipping his tongue into your pussy immediately. you groaned audibly, reaching down to tangle your hands in his hair, tugging hard on the brown locks. the only thing you could hear was the sloppy sounds of slurping and occasional moans coming from you or jaemin. he went back and forth, sucking on your clit or pumping three fingers inside of you, loving the sounds as his tongue dove in and out.

‘j-jaem’ you cried out, feeling a fire light up in your core. he took notice, prompting him to go faster.

‘c’mon baby, let go, cum on my fingers’ he slurred, not letting his down his pace as you cried out. grabbing onto the sheets below you, as the shockwaves began rippling through your core, vision going white as the pleasure washed over your body, mind going blank and mouth open in a silent scream. your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as you came down from your climax. you lifted your head up and looked down at him, jaemin already looking back at you smiling, ‘do you want to keep going?’ he asked in a small voice, you couldn’t help but giggle from his cuteness and post nut haze.

‘yeah, i want to’ he smiled a pulled himself back up to you, his face now leveled with yours. jaemin cupped your cheek in his hands, closing the space in between with deep, passionate kisses. he placed his knee between your thigh, the sensation making you grind down on his thigh, desperate for any type of pleasure. jaemin discarded his boxers, grasping his dick in his hand he guided it it to your clit, his tip ghosting your entrance. he gathered the slick pooling out and rubbed it over his cock, lubbing it up. he gently pushed it in, while peppering kisses over your face and neck as you gasped at the tight feeling. ‘fuck’ you rasped, taking his biceps in your hands and squeezing. once he was buried deep inside of you he stopped and let you adjust to his size. ‘yo-you can start moving’ you whispered, the sting finally subsiding to bliss.

he pulled out and quickly pushed back in repeatedly, making you whimper out at the feeling of being completely full of jaemin. ‘fuck, you’re taking me so well’ he grunted, now trusting faster, slowly losing himself in you. leaning up on his knees, he grabbed your hips and brought you forward, hips now pounding into yours, making you continue to cry out and grasping onto the sheets again, knuckles almost turning white. jaemin started rubbing circles on your clit as he slide in and out of your gummy walls, encouraging you to cum before he does. ‘you feel so good, fuck, cum on my cock baby’ he growled. tears prickled your eyes, the overstimulation beginning to be too much, the fire in your lower belly threatening to boil over. ‘i can’t-t’ you breathed out through the moans and gasps. the tears threatened to spill as they pooled on your waterline.

‘you can baby, c’mon, let go’ as he talked you through it, you finally let the weight lift off your shoulders, feeling the band in your core snap as you came on jaemin's cock, ‘that’s it baby, keep going, make me cum’ he groaned, his hips snapping into yours, the tip of his penis kissing your cervix. he stilled inside of you, a long whine unleashing from his chest as he spilled his seed inside of you. he slowly pulled out, taking his fingers and scooping up the cum that pooled around your pussy and shoved it back inside, making you moan lowly. ‘can’t waste a drop’ he whispered next to you in bed.

he laid down next to you, grabbing your waist and pulling you close, ‘tired baby?’ he quested, his voice heavy. you just nodded, eyes too heavy to look over at him, too silent to actually respond. he hummed in confirmation, kissing the side of your forehead in affection, keeping you close, ‘time for bed, we can talk more in the morning’

‘no eavesdropping?’ you whispered out into darkness, eyes still closed.

‘depends baby’ jaemin joked, shaking you playfully, ‘is it gonna make you jealous again?’