You were awake but didn’t open your eyes. You’d left the curtains open, you realized. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, bracing yourself for the light. Your eyes snapped open as you were met with the image of a naked Taeyong fast asleep in your bed. If you weren’t awake before, you were certainly wide awake now.
You looked around the room in horror as you recalled the events of the previous night. You replayed the night in your mind, as if it were a film, and how you took your clothes off and how Taeyong ended up between your legs and inside you. And you had the audacity to throb at the thought of him, a wave of guilt washing over you.
The vibration coming from the nightstand startled you, bringing you back to your harsh reality. Your hands felt a little shaky as you reached for your phone. Without even having to look, you knew it was Kun. Your heart pounded in your chest as you answered the call, your voice trembling slightly.
"Hey, babe," Kun's voice greeted you, laced with concern. "I didn't hear back from you last night, so I wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?"
You took a deep breath, your mind racing. You were anything but okay. You were confused, in a daze, and filled to the brim with guilt and remorse. The thought of confessing the truth and his disappointment sent a fresh wave of guilt to crash over you.
"I'm just a little hungover," you said, a half truth. "I think I might take a painkiller and go back to sleep for a little while.”
"Oh, okay," Kun replied, his voice laced with understanding. He chuckled. "I told you to make sure you drank some water to avoid a hangover! Anyway, just call me when you wake up, alright? I can bring you something to eat later."
"Okay, I will.”
Your heart was heavy with the weight of your lies as you hung up the phone. Taeyong stirred beside you, rolling onto his side. He was awake now and you weren’t sure how much of the conversation he’d heard.
“Good morning,” he said, so casually, as if this was all normal to him. He leaned on his elbow, propping himself up to smile at you.
“Uh, good morning,” you said, with a weak attempt at a smile. You were becoming hyper aware of the fact that you were naked, pulling the sheets over your bare breasts. “We need to talk about last night…”
“Okay,” he said, sitting up in the bed, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What about last night?”
You took a deep breath, not quite sure what you were going to say. “Last night shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake.”
Taeyong’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I have a boyfriend, Taeyong,” you said, not sure why you had to explain. “We shouldn’t have had sex.”
“You have a boyfriend, sure,” he said, “but you made your choice. We’re both adults.”
His words stung, a sharp reminder of the mess you had created. You hadn't intended to hurt Kun, but your actions had spoken louder than words.
"I know," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I just... I don't know what I was thinking."
Taeyong sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. "I know, Y/N," he said, his voice soft and laced with understanding. He tilted your head toward his, looking you in your eyes. "But we can't go back now."
His words hung in the air, a reminder of the reality before you. You had crossed a line and there was no turning back. You hesitated, your mind torn between regret and desire. Taeyong leaned in closer, his lips not quite touching yours. You could feel his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
"Do you really think kissing me that day was a mistake?" he asked, his voice laced with longing. "I made love to you last night, Y/N…You’re telling me that was a mistake? You regret that?"
You stared into his eyes, your own filled with a rather strong cocktail of confusion, regret, and desire. You felt torn between the guilt of your actions and the connection you shared with Taeyong. Words didn’t come.
He wasn’t wrong. Last night, you made a choice - a choice that you would have to live with and figure out how to navigate. And choices had their consequences.
You leaned into his touch and it wasn’t long before his lips met yours in a passionate kiss. You responded, your lips melting against his, your bodies pressing together, silently accepting the onward battle. The weight of your guilt and regret slowly melted away, replaced by these new feelings for Taeyong. In that moment, you were lost in Taeyong’s intoxicating embrace as you found yourself on top of him again, sinking onto his already-hard length.
*
Taeyong stepped out of your apartment building, the warm afternoon air washing over his face. He could still smell the lingering scent of your perfume on the collar of his shirt, along with the memory of your touch. With each step, he felt his heart ache in his chest. His emotions were all over the place and, after sleeping with you twice, they’d intensified.
You made a choice and he had, too. The two of you made those choices together. He had no regrets. He replayed the events of the last night and this morning in his mind; your sweet moans and your tender touch, your whispers in his ear and his seed dripping from inside you.
A wave of longing washed over him. He craved your presence, your laughter, your touch, not just your body. He wanted more; he wanted to see you whenever he wanted, he wanted to touch you. He wished he could be the one you came home to, the one who you shared your hopes and dreams with and the one who wrapped his arms around you whenever you were upset.
The connection he had with you was so intense, unlike anything he had ever felt before. But Taeyong couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. He knew that your relationship was complicated and he was entangled with you, in a web of lies and hidden desires. The thought of sharing you with another man was a bitter pill to swallow, a jealousy that gnawed at his insides. But he had to keep his composure if he didn’t want to lose you, too.
After all, you weren’t his to have in the first place.
*
As the hot water rippled down your body, you closed your eyes, trying to wash away the guilt that clung to you like a second skin. The memory of your actions with Taeyong haunted you, each droplet of water a constant reminder of the sins you had committed. You scrubbed your skin hard, as if you could erase the memory of Taeyong's touch. You longed for the cleansing power of water to somehow make you pure again, to wash away the stain of infidelity that marked your conscience.
The weight of guilt remained following a shower. Wrapped tightly in your towel, you moved through your apartment with a sense of urgency, cleaning and airing it out, trying to erase any and every trace of Taeyong's presence. You changed your sheets, replacing them with fresh, clean ones, hoping to remove the lingering scent of his cologne. You sprayed air freshener and opened the window, hoping to remove the smell of sex in the air. Every movement, every action, was fueled by a desperate need to erase the evidence of your wild night.
You took the Plan B that Taeyong went to get for you, chugging the pill down with water, as if that could undo things, as if it was a chance at redemption. The very last thing you needed was to end up pregnant and have no idea if the baby was Kun’s or Taeyong’s. You threw the empty box in the trash and took out the garbage, getting rid of the evidence.
Not long after, the doorbell rang. You opened the door, revealing the man you’d betrayed with a container of soup. He kissed you on your lips on his way inside. “Hey babe. I thought about making you that Chinese soup you like but I was feeling a little lazy so I just bought you some chicken soup.”
You nodded with a weak smile. “Thank you…Were you up late working?”
“Yeah,” he said, placing the bag on the counter. He started sifting through the bags so that you could eat. “I went to sleep around two. What time did you get back?”
“Maybe around 12:30,” you answered, “I fell asleep earlier than I thought. I’m sorry I didn’t text you back.”
He shook his head. “No need to apologize. I know you were fine. Do you want to eat now?”
You nodded. Your energy levels were really low and, Kun being here when you were grinding on Taeyong’s dick a couple of hours ago, didn’t help the situation. As you ate, Kun carried the conversation. He talked about the housewarming last night and how nice Taeyong was and that he could see us getting along. He talked about how work went and how his juniors were slacking. You were only half there, hearing him and trying your best to look engaged.
"Is there anything else on your mind?" he asked gently, his hand reaching out to touch yours reassuringly.
Caught off guard by his question, you hesitated. Of course there was something else on your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about Taeyong or what the two of you did. Of course, you couldn’t tell him any of it. "No, it's just the hangover," you repeated, as if trying to convince yourself of your own lie. “I think the food will help.”
Kun nodded slowly, seemingly accepting your explanation. “Wanna watch a movie? Sounds like the perfect lazy Sunday before we have to go to work tomorrow..”
Work. That was the last place that you wanted to be. You’d have to confront reality somehow and face Taeyong in real life and real-time. Would things be awkward? Would Taeyong treat you differently? You didn’t take him for a man that would put you or his job at risk, but you weren’t sure how this would go. You’d opened up a door that couldn’t be shut so easily.
It was your fault, truth be told. You weren’t perfect but, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to say that being with Taeyong was a mistake. You didn’t have any regrets when it came to him. You just regretted how it all came to be. You wished that this had happened at a time when you were single. Then, things would be okay, and these decisions didn’t have to weigh so heavily on your mind.
“Yeah,” you replied, taking away the empty containers. “Do you wanna pick this time?”
So, you tried to get back into normalcy by watching a movie with the man you were supposed to be in a relationship with.
*
The next day at work, you found yourself glancing over at Taeyong every so often, a knot of guilt tightening in your stomach with each glance. His presence was a constant reminder of the sins you had committed, a secret that weighed heavily on your conscience.
Taeyong, on the other hand, seemed unfazed by the tension between you. He continued to greet you with his usual warm smile and engaging conversation, even going so far as to brush against your hands in passing moments. You tried to avoid his touch, to maintain a professional distance, but his subtle touches made you question whether or not you were overthinking.
The workday dragged on, each minute dragging on as you sat with your conflicting emotions. You longed for the day to end, to escape your team, along with the weight of your guilt.
Finally, the clock struck five, signaling the end of your workday. As you gathered your belongings and headed out of the office, you picked up your phone to see a text from Taeyong.
Taeyong [5:01PM] : Can you meet me at Hidden Moon Bar?
He sent a link and it was a five minute walk from the office. You texted back, agreeing. Unfortunately, you couldn’t quite ignore Taeyong or pretend that what happened didn’t happen.
You said your goodbyes and left first. As you walked, you wondered how the conversation would go. All you knew was that this couldn’t continue. You had cheated on Kun, yes, but it would be better to stop now before things got out of control. You just needed to stand your ground and not get tempted to go back on what you wanted to say.
You sat down at the bar, deciding that you definitely needed a drink to have this conversation. A moment later, you had a glass of Pinot Noir in your hand. After a few gulps, you felt much better about things.
“Hey Y/N,” said a familiar voice from behind you. So casually, Taeyong took a seat on the barstool next to you. It wasn’t crowded, thankfully, as the happy hour crowds hadn’t made it just yet. “What are you drinking?”
"Hey," you said, your voice laced with a hint of nervousness. “I got Pinot Noir.”
Taeyong called over the bartender to say, “Can I have a glass of Pinot Noir, too?” He took out his wallet, pulling out his credit card. “You can put mine and hers on this card. Thanks!”
You nodded. “Thanks.”
He said, “No problem. Well, anyway, we should talk about what happened, right?”
“Yeah, um, what we're doing, what we did…it's not right. We shouldn't be doing this, Taeyong. We're coworkers, and it's too complicated. I think you should date other people, seriously."
He looked at you, without saying a word. He didn’t say anything for a long time, to the point where you began to feel a little awkward. He sighed and took a sip of the wine the bartender had just placed in front of him. He took a long swig and put the glass down before turning back to you. "Y/N, dating other people isn't going to change how I feel about you. I can't just turn off these emotions. Trust me, I've tried, but it's not that easy."
You sighed, realizing the depth of the situation. "Taeyong, you deserve someone who can really be with you. Someone you don’t have to sneak around with. It's not fair to you."
He leaned back in the chair, studying your face. "You think I want just anyone? I want you, Y/N. And I understand it's complicated…”
You shook your head, feeling the weight of responsibility. "It's not just about us; it's about my boyfriend, our jobs, everything. I can't just throw it all away."
"I get it, Y/N. I do. But I can't deny what I feel. I can't just pretend that we didn’t kiss, that we didn’t have sex, that we’re just nothing.”
You said, "Taeyong, I care about you, but we can't keep going down this path. It's only going to get more complicated."
He leaned a little closer. "What if I don't want to date other people? What if I just want to be with you, even if it's complicated?"
You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the situation. "Taeyong, we can’t…"
He sighed, a mixture of frustration and sadness in his expression. "I can't promise that my feelings will just disappear. But if you think it's the right thing to do and that this is what you want, I'll respect your decision."
*
The office clock ticked down to 5:00 PM, signaling the end of yet another busy week. As people began gathering their belongings and preparing to leave, Kevin turned to the group with a grin. "Hey, is anyone up for dinner tonight?" he asked, shutting his laptop. “I have no plans. Someone please say yes.”
A few heads nodded in agreement, while others declined, letting him know that they already had plans. Attention was on Taeyong now, as he hadn’t responded.
"I can’t. I have a date tonight," Taeyong announced, in a light, casual tone.
While your coworkers laughed and teased, a pang of jealousy coursed through your body. A date? Already?
Hina, turning off her monitor, stood up from her chair. "Is this the first date?"
Taeyong nodded, his smile widening. "Yeah," he answered. "Seolyun gave me a suggestion for a steakhouse so I’m going to take her there. Supposed to be pretty good."
You recalled your recent conversation with Taeyong last week, where you had encouraged him to see other people. That meant that dates were a thing. You felt jealousy and regret, realizing you weren't as prepared for Taeyong to move on as you thought. The suggestion to date others had been a bit easier in theory than in practice. You did your best to hide your emotions, forcing a smile as you joined the others in wishing him a good time.
Kevin, always eager to add to the conversation, chimed in, "So, how did you meet her?"
"Online dating app," Taeyong replied casually. "We were texting for a while and I asked if she had any plans, so I figured why not take her out tonight?"
Seolyun, your curious coworker, couldn't resist the urge to pry. "Can we see a picture?" she asked, her eyebrows raised in anticipation.
Taeyong chuckled, "I'll show you if we end up dating," he teased. “I don’t wanna jinx it.”
The thought of Taeyong moving on and potentially having a new girlfriend stirred a mix of emotions within you. While you genuinely wished him the best, you couldn't deny the lingering feelings you still had for him.
As you gathered your things and prepared to leave the office, a wave of uncertainty washed over you. What was going to happen now?
*
Taeyong found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror, conflicted emotions playing on his face. Tonight was the night of the date he agreed to. He’d be a liar if he said that he wasn’t nervous about it. He adjusted his collar, wondering if he was making the right decision. By going on a date, he was respecting your boundaries, right?
The girl he was about to meet was pretty and she seemed genuinely nice. He didn’t know much about her yet, but he thought that maybe this could work out in his favor. But as he buttoned up his shirt, a nagging thought tugged at the edges of his mind – she wasn't you. And she never would be.
The conversation he had with you had been playing in his mind all week, like a broken record. Taeyong sighed, trying to come to terms with what you’d said. If you wanted him to see other people, he reasoned, it meant you didn't want him. He had to at least try to move on, to forget about the feelings he had for you. Yet, the mere thought of being with someone else made his heart ache.
Glancing at the clock, he realized it was time to leave. He locked eyes with his reflection, trying to give himself a pep talk. It’ll be fun, he thought, trying to reason with himself, an internal battle plaguing his heart. Just one date, he told himself. She seems to be a nice girl. Maybe we’ll hit it off.
There are more girls out there other than Y/N, Taeyong.
All of these thoughts crossed his mind but he wasn’t sure of himself. Maybe this date would be a step towards closure, a way to untangle himself from the feelings he had for you.
As he stepped out into the night, Taeyong couldn't shake the lingering doubt. Deep down, he couldn't escape the haunting question – was he truly ready to move on, or was this just a futile attempt to fill the void left by someone he couldn’t have?
*
The week had been long, filled with deadlines and endless meetings, so when Kevin suggested grabbing dinner and drinks to unwind, you decided to get on board. Spending time with friends seemed like a much better option than sulking at home and being trapped in wonderings about Taeyong and this mystery woman.
As you all settled into a cozy corner booth, the clinking of glasses and the hum of conversation surrounded you. The menu was passed around, each person expressing their preferences and sharing recommendations.
Seolyun scanned the cocktail menu with enthusiasm. "I heard their mojitos are really good. Anyone up for one?”
Hina, sitting beside you, offered a thoughtful smile. "I'm game. Mojitos it is."
“Speaking of mojitos, me and my cousins are planning a trip to Cuba!”
Despite the lively conversation about mojitos and travel, your thoughts drifted to Taeyong yet again. Who was this girl? What did she look like? What was her personality like? Most importantly, would Taeyong like her? Would he like her so much that he ends up in a relationship with her?
Every few minutes, you found yourself reaching for your phone to look at Taeyong’s Instagram profile. You'd refresh the page, hoping to catch a glimpse into his date, hoping to see a photo, a story, anything that would tell you where he was or what he was doing.
“Any travel plans coming up for the summer, Y/N?” asked Kevin, as he put a few pieces of pork belly onto your plate. Now, you were being forced into the conversation. And rightfully so.
“Nah, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere but I’m not going to lie, a beach trip would be amazing. Me and Hina were talking about maybe doing a weekend trip.”
“I haven’t been in years,” said Hina.
“It’ll be nice to get some seafood,” you added.
“Speaking of seafood,” chimed in Seolyun, “should we order squid to grill?”
As the night went on, you were almost filled to the brim with anxiety. No matter how good the food was or how strong your drink was, you could only think of Taeyong. The thought of him enjoying an evening out with a nameless, faceless woman filled your heart with frustration and envy.
Every notification, every vibration, every sound made your heart drop. Everytime you got a notification, you hoped that it was him and you hoped that he was thinking about you as much as you were about him. But it never was, and that hurt more than you thought it would.
As you were on the subway heading home, you realized that you basically only knew Taeyong as a friend. You hardly knew him as a lover, but you wanted to. Was he patient? Was he the type of man to give you random gifts, just because? Would he plan dates without you having to ask? Was he willing to work things out if you had a fight? You wondered what kind of man he’d be like, if you were dating.
A shower wasn’t much help either. Those thoughts didn’t disappear but they shifted to the memories of him being here with you. You thought of how hard he kissed you, how he grabbed your hands and held them down as he thrusted into you in missionary, and how deep inside you he was. It was almost as if Taeyong figured out your body and how to please you in just a night. You throbbed at the thought.
You knew you had no right to feel this upset about it. You had Kun, your loving boyfriend who was on his way right now with a bottle of the Pinot Noir that you loved. And here you were thinking about a man that you couldn’t have.
You’d invited him over before you got in the shower because you felt alone. You wanted what you couldn’t have, so you went with the next best option. It wasn’t that you didn’t love or care about Kun; you did. But Taeyong had shown you excitement that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Kun felt…safe. Taeyong felt dangerous. There was something about the thrill of it all that turned you on a little bit.
As you got out of the shower and wrapped your towel around you, you found yourself picking up your phone again. You clicked on the Instagram app for what was probably the hundredth time tonight and found that Taeyong had finally posted something — a story. You pressed your finger on Taeyong’s icon and found the photo that you’d been waiting for all night long. You held your finger down because ten seconds to view it wouldn’t be enough for you. Taeyong had taken a picture of a perfectly cooked steak, medium rare and glistening just how he liked it. The steak looked amazing, but what really caught your eye was the small bouquet of flowers across the table and the perfectly manicured hand you could see holding a steak knife in the top right corner. And to top it off, he put 5 star emojis with the location of the restaurant tagged.
You felt your eyes become hot with what you could only assume to be tears. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony, a cruel joke. Were you really upset with him when you were the one who told him to see other people? You couldn’t possibly keep up an affair with him. It was wrong and you both deserved better than to drag each other around on strings and making promises you couldn’t keep. You’d uttered those words at the time but you weren’t sure that you actually meant them. And here you were — jealous.
You heard the front door open and close, signaling your boyfriend’s arrival. Before you went out there, you needed to pull yourself together. You took a deep breath. Suddenly, you wished that you hadn’t asked for him to come over. But maybe it made sense now. Instead of being left alone with your thoughts, having company seemed like the better option.
“Babe?” he called from the kitchen.
You wiped your tears with your towel before you went out to greet him. “Hey, babe.”
Of course, he greeted you with a smile that made you feel guilty. As you got closer, he said, “You okay, Y/N? You look like you’ve been crying…”
You said, “I think it’s just my allergies.” A lie, but believable.
As you wiped away what was left of your tears, he said, “Do you need some medicine? I can go get some if you need…”
You shook your head. “I’m okay,” you said, forcing a smile. “I’d love some of that wine though.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, planting a kiss on your lips.
“Yeah,” you said in a low, husky voice. You kissed him back, harder this time. Kun was surprised at your forwardness and pulled you closer to him. You could feel him getting hard and, sneakily, he made your towel fall to the floor.
“I’ll pour some wine,” you said, pulling away from his embrace, and showing off your body. You could see him biting his lips as you reached into the cabinet for your wine glasses. His eyes never left you, even when he was across the room on the couch.
A moment later, you were walking toward him, wine glasses in hand to place on the side table. Then you disappeared into your bedroom and changed into the lingerie set he liked. Little did he know, he followed you and watched you as you changed.
“You look good,” he said, coming up behind you. “Are you horny, babe?”
You turned around to face him, nodding. You were met with your wine glass. You took it from him and took a long swig of the red wine. A little bit dripped down your chin as you pulled the glass away and Kun was quick to wipe it away with his thumb, slowly.
You took another sip and you watched him over the top of your glass. After you put the glass on top of your dresser, Kun pulled you close to him, pressing your body against his. You said, “So are you going to do something about it?”
You bit your lip. “Maybe…” Reaching down for his pants, you pulled them down. He was left in his boxers, his hardness poking through to give you a nice view. You heard a small groan come from his lips as you pulled those off, too, freeing him from the constraints. You ran your fingers back and forth across the head of his penis, teasing him, and watched it jump each time. You got down on your knees and took him in your mouth. You sucked his dick, nice and slow, at first. Then, you picked up the speed, drawing louder moans from your boyfriend. He put his hand on your shoulder and you knew that if you kept going he’d cum before you could get him inside you.
You pushed him back onto the bed, to his surprise, and climbed on top of him. “Take this off,” you said, referring to his shirt. You quickly helped him with the buttons and tossed the shirt to the side. He sat up and latched onto your nipple; he had easy access thanks to the lingerie, which had a small hole designated for them. He licked and nibbled on them. You screwed your eyes shut in pleasure, letting out small moans. Then, he reached down to your slit, running his fingers across it. You could tell that you were wet, partially because of the stimulation and partially because you thought of what it felt like when Taeyong touched you.
He said, “Are you ready?”
You nodded. “Fuck me, Kun.”
With that, he flipped you over onto your back. He slipped in easily and started thrusting into you right away. Your walls gripped at him tightly, making him groan. With each stroke, you could hear how wet your pussy was from that wet, squishy sound. Hearing it must’ve made him excited because he was suddenly fucking you harder, faster; it was hard to catch your breath with the feeling of your body being pounded into the mattress.
He buried his neck into yours as he thrusted in and out of him. From the way his breathing got heavier and heavier, you could tell he was close. The thought got you so excited.
“Ride it, babe,” he said, pulling out.
No words were exchanged. You just sunk down onto him with a squish. He groaned in response and let you take control. You started grinding on his dick, back and forth. Your wetness began soaking his pelvis and his lips parted in pleasure.
“That’s my good girl,” he said. “There you go.”
Hearing his voice made you throb even harder. You started going faster. It wouldn’t be long until you rode yourself into an orgasm. It wasn’t often that you found yourself having vaginal orgasms but today was the day. You could almost taste that delicious feeling building up inside you.
In the moment of your orgasm, you got lost in the movement of your hips. You allowed yourself to forget. You forgot about the guilt and the lies. You lost yourself in the feeling of Kun’s fingers digging into your hips instead.
But even as you came, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder, in the back of your mind, where Taeyong was, who he was with, and if he was thinking of you, even just a little.
But this was safe. Being here with Kun was safe.
*
Taeyong tossed and turned in bed that night, not able to get much quality sleep. He’d dozed off here and there, but it’d been nothing substantial. You crept into his dreams again and things were perfect. It was as if he was living in an alternate universe, one where you were single and being right or wrong didn’t matter. In the dream, you were his and he was yours. He could almost smell the scent of your perfume, almost feel your lips on his. It was a dream he didn’t want to wake up from.
Despite the content of his dreams, he had a good time on the date. Her name was Hyewol. He started the night off in the same way he would’ve wanted to with you, if he had the opportunity. He met up with her, greeting her with a small bouquet of roses. Then they walked to the restaurant together and got to know one another on the way to the restaurant. They told each other the basics: where they were from and where they worked, what schools they went to and what countries they visited, and their favorite things. Then, they enjoyed steak and wine for dinner.
He let her know that he’d like to take her on another date and, luckily for him, she was all for it. Part of him believed that maybe he could date her, that he could move on. But the truth was that she wasn’t you. So far, she was a person he could see himself with, but that wasn’t enough. Their chemistry wasn’t as strong. He could tell just by the way that he was in no hurry to kiss her.
He’d spent the past week on dating apps, hoping that the void he felt in his heart would be filled. He’d swiped through profiles, messaged other women, and he even went on a date tonight. The problem remained and it was that you couldn’t be replaced.
It was a bit dramatic, he supposed, but he felt as though he couldn’t just be friends with you. The two of you had crossed a line and it was too late to turn back now. The damage had already been done, hadn’t it? What if he just pushed forward anyway? No, he thought. He had to respect your boundaries. He couldn’t just tell you no. So he needed to figure out if you were serious about him moving on. But for now, he’d give it some time first. Maybe you’d change your mind and come to him instead.
General Taglist: @to-all-the-stories-i-love @sweetnspicy-noona
Lost for Words Taglist: @ridinjuyeon @soonyoonswoo
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
a/n: WOW ive been gone for a hot min ㅠㅠ sorry guys university is just very crazy and im going to korea this september so ive been working my ass off which means i haven't had to time to sit down and write!! but im here now after a burst of inspiration at 11pm.... this aint proofread but i hope you like it <33
wc: 506
warnings: like. one mention of s*x but none is actually involved pls its just very hot n heavy but all they do is kith
the study is a serious room for serious business, haechan's father says.
haechan thinks having this rendezvous with you, the daughter of his father's mortal enemy, in his study, is quite serious business indeed.
“my lady,” haechan breathes, words dripping with want, “you are quite inconsiderate.”
his lips are a hair's breadth from yours. you know that in this moment, if you simply leaned a little closer, you could end the constant yearning between you.
“i think,” you reply, just as silent and softly as him, “you are quite greedy.” you lean away from him, just barely hearing his slight whine of disappointment.
you take his hand, play with his fingers. he lets you. eagerly anticipating your next move. “what you need,” you begin, tracing your hand up his sleeve, “is to learn,” you sit him down at the desk, stand up, walk behind him, and grasp his shoulders, massaging them slightly, “some patience.” you whisper in his ear, while your hands move to his neck.
haechan takes a deep breath, waiting. for what, he doesn't know.
careful to avoid his windpipe, your hands squeeze.
he makes an obscene noise, loud and wanton - for a second, before he regains himself.
you bite his earlobe. lightly, of course.
he shudders.
you coax him up again, eyes locked onto his like a predator and its willing prey.
this time, you curl your fingers in his hair, bring him in close. you expect him to complain again, but he remains silent. only the dilation of his eyes, visible in the firelight, and the glisten of his freshly licked lips against the firelight betray his desire. you stare at his lips for an achingly long time, bringing yours ever, painstakingly, closer. you brush your lips against his, and haechan's breath hitches. you move away, and he whines once more.
“must you tease me so?” he says, almost spent.
“no.” you reply, coy. “but it's fun,” you add, and draw him in for a real kiss this time. he almost melts in your arms, but you clutch his hair ever tighter, and he wakes up enough to inject his fervor into your veins. he leads you back towards the desk, prompting you to sit on it, and as he stands between your legs and grinds into you, haechan thinks it'd be so nice, so easy, if you so desired - so easy for him to just push aside your skirts and have his way with you.
pulling away for air is like hell on earth, and as he comes back for more, his own hands, once caressing your face, now steadily traveling south - a knock sounds on the door. you reluctantly pull apart, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you, and hurry to hide.
as you listen to haechan try and explain away the person at the door, you think to yourself on how this really was supposed to be a serious meeting. you also don't think you can find it in yourself to really care that it wasn't, though.
[8:02pm] “We need your help,” Haechan said, gesturing for you to follow him into the kitchen where Mark was sitting at the table on his phone.
“What? No, we don’t,” Mark said quickly, looking up as soon as you walked in. “We’re fine, Haechan is just being weird.”
“You’re the one who’s being weird,” Haechan replied, motioning for you to sit. Mark hurriedly put his phone facedown on the table and leaned back in his chair in an unsuccessful attempt to look nonchalant.
“What do you need help with?” you asked.
“He’s been overthinking this text he wants to send for half an hour now and it’s driving me nuts,” Haechan said. “It’s to his crush.” Mark’s eyes widened in alarm.
“Ah, I see,” you said, turning to him with a smile. “Do I know who it is?”
You’d never seen anyone’s ears turn so red so fast.
“Uh…well…uh…”
“I’m just kidding,” you said, waving your hands dismissively. “You don’t have to tell me who it is.” Haechan smirked to himself but you didn’t notice, too busy watching the relief slowly return to Mark’s face instead.
“He’s been debating about whether one emoji will make or break the entire relationship,” Haechan continued, “so I told him I would either take the phone and send the text myself, or he could just ask in person, so you’re here to help him decide.” With that, he patted you on the shoulder before wishing, “Good luck” and walking out of the room.
“So what’s the text abou-”
“Do you want to get dinner with me?” Mark blurted out. You frowned in confusion.
“Well, sure, but what about that text to your crush?”
He looked at you for a moment as if taken aback by your question, blinked slowly a couple of times, then quickly picked up his phone and pressed send.
“I made up my mind,” he said simply. Your phone buzzed.
“You should check that,” he said with a small smile.
Mark (8:07pm): Do you want to get dinner with me? :)
warnings: mention of kissing, cheating, abusive and unhealthy relationship, suggestive, being manipulate, being used
ratings: sad and 16+
a/n: very shitty bear with me pls i just need content in this blog so, anyways, please don't read this if you get triggered easily, if any of you are facing this stuff please leave your partner, talk to me and remember you are not alone
disclaimer: this is just a fictional work of writings, nothing in the story happen in real life or relate to the character. character have the purest heart in real life. remember this is just pure fictional character.
"he’s not good for you !” your best friend said out loud feeling frustrated at you. You lay your head down her lap letting one tears fell down. "why kept on forcing yourself to stay with him, you deserves so much better than him, he’s not good for you. He’s damaging you and you kept on succumb to his word." The truth hurts but you can’t stop this, you love him too much as if you can’t find an exit spot out of this relationship, you feel trapped.
“then what am i supposed to do? Left him? Not in a million years i will left him. He loves me and i loves him too more than anything in this world” you spat at your best friend. She felt like giving up talking to you, she feel so bad for how your boyfriends kept on manipulating you. He brainwashed you until you can’t think straight “see you knew this, you knew you are trapped in that relationship. I know its going to be hard but we can try this together."
“what we? What this? I don’t think i agree onto leaving him, he is the only thing that can make me happy. I can’t see my future without him. He’s just tired and stressed from college he will get it over soon trust me don’t worry too much." Your best friend let out a sigh of defeat. Giving up to convince you anymore.
＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿
You are cooking taeyong favourite dish when you hear a knock on your door. nonetheless you open the door knowing its your love of you life waiting outside the door.
"hey babe i miss you so much today” taeyong said while embracing you in his warm hug, a hug that you will never get bored off. "i miss you too tae, oh btw i just finish cooking how bout we eat together while watching netflix?."
“yeah sound nice to me but can you please run a bath for me first i’m sweating a lot today” you nodded while pinching his cheek.
You call taeyong immediately when you finish running the bath tub. Not even a minute he arrived still wearing his shirt and jeans from the morning. You help him taking off his clothes while facing his back. You are in a complete silent peace not when you found a scratch mark from his back. It looks like nail scratch. it comes from below his shoulder blade to his waist. If it wasn’t more obvious. You knew what it was, you decide to play it cool and left him alone in the tub letting your mind having its head argument. you want to deny it but its too clear that u can't push the idea outside your head. feeling the rage and anger inside you, you start eating without him.
＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿
After taeyong finish his shower, he went to the living room and is quite suprised watching you already started eating and watching the movies without him. "hey why did you start it without me?" disappointment could be heard in his tone. "how does that feel?" "what do you mean?" now his tone turning to annoyance rather than disappointed. "why did you do it” "do what?” he rolled his eye than take a sit beside you
"everynight, everyday, you went to my house and hug me, it is warm, comforting and i love it, i used to love smelling you, you smell so nice, that cologne that you always wear was my favourite. But all i could smell now is women perfume, cheap perfume u could find at the road, i hate that smell. it never be my favourite, neither do you. you always buy me expensive one since you like the smell the most but now its not me smell on you, its that your least favourite perfume And also that sex reek smell that you always had” Tears start to fall slowly down your cheek and you begin to clench on you hand. Slowly a hand creeped up on your cheek and begin wiping your tears. He hug you and let your head fall into his lap.
"whenever we sleep together i would hug you feeling those back scratches that was made by some women that isn’t me. Or someone marking you up, making you as her territory. I thought you were mine?. I thought you love me?. All the promise you made to me, what was it all for? Am i your playthingー.” He hushed you and kissed your mouth hard more to demanding and rough. He kissed you hard almost knocking the air out of your lung. Biting you lower lips and slipped his tongue in your mouth. He kissed and sucked you hard until you lips are swollen. He break the kiss and stroke the nape of your neck. "i’m sorry my angel, i love you so much, i promise it won’t happen again. I was just so stressed with college and final semester. I want to let my frustration out without bothering you, i love you so much that i don’t want to burden you. You know i love you right? Don’t you love me?. Do you hate me now? I’m sorry for everything my love, i will change for you. Please don’t leave me i don’t know what am i if you leave me."
"i love you too, i will not leave you, i will never leave you. I love you so much. Please don’t hate me, i’m sorry" your tears falling hard and it hurts your heart seeing you boyfriend tears falling. You kiss his tears away hugging him tightly. You love him so much that u can’t leave him, he is your everything. Your world, your universe. Taeyong lift you by your thigh and carry you to you bedroom. He put you down slowly and kiss you before pulling the duvet covering both of your bodies. He stroke your cheeks and hair while intertwined both of your hands with him.
＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿
Days turning to weeks and turning to months. It isn’t getting better at all, its more common now, you getting used to it. Being used again all over again, being manipulated every time you confront him. Its a weekly routine now. You hate it everytime you try to left him he always hit the point right at your heart that you can’t live without him that taeyong are your everything. Today, you saw a message from someone from his phone “it was fun, can’t wait to see you again” appear on the screen your heart sank but it didn’t hurt you anymore, you are numb. You don’t even budge seeing hickey covering his neck now. Whatever you do say or done, he manage to take you back to his arms everytime. At this point you let him used you because you know he doesn’t love you like you do. Letting him using you so that he won’t leave you. He is your world. He is your everything. You can’t leave him.
Summary: Tight jeans and silk adorn a masterpiece; on-stage a collected performer, off-stage a responsive and eager lover. As soon as the stage lights dim, he's desperate for your affirmations.
Word Count: 2k
The front door slams shut and clothes are fisted as Haechan has you backed against the wall in your dim apartment, the sight of his dance performance at tonight's show blazed into your eyelids and your ears ringing with the last echoes of the venue. The stroll home through the streets illuminated in city lights proved to be more than frustrating, the heels of his shoes clicking across pavement in time with your rapid heartbeat as you watched his determined profile, wishing more than anything that his hand firmly clasping yours ran elsewhere along your body.
Frantically toying with the buttons on his black silk shirt in the dark, light switch forgotten, your lips are stolen as he pulls your jaw upward. Fingers pressing into the nape of your neck, he leads you into a deep kiss, wet with tongue and firm with urgency. Finally, you release the last button and your hands roam the expanse of damp skin along his front, from his plush chest down to his fuzzy warm tummy. He breaks his lips away from yours to pull down your tight skirt until you shimmy it off, his warm mouth sucking at your inner thigh, his tongue drawing designs across your skin as he fumbles with your boots. You grab him by the collar of his shirt in order to urge him upwards again, only to be met with a devilish little grin from below before he kisses the tiny bow on your lingerie and moves his way upward. Frantically fingering the waistline of his tight black jeans, your hands are tantalizingly close to the hardness beneath the fabric straining at the seams.
"You looked so, so good on stage tonight." Roaming hands, rough shoves, and hot skin leave sensations in the darkness. "Couldn't take my eyes off you."
"You think I looked good? Really?" He's breathless, his hands at your waist running up your body to find solace in the roots of your hair, twisting and tangling. "Me?"
A passing car shines headlights through the window of your apartment, briefly revealing the glimmer of his hooded eyes gazing down on you. Your hand at his tummy rubs in circles, his happy trail and smooth skin creating textures beneath your knuckles as other restless fingertips dip into the valleys of his collarbones. When you palm his hardness through the rough fabric, his lips slide off yours, uncentered, dragging saliva across your cheek, a groan rumbling within his bare chest beneath your hand. The tranquility of the still, quiet late night hours allow his gasps and bitten whines to permeate the silence. He's a masterpiece, on-stage a collected performer, off-stage a responsive and eager lover.
You speak in rushed gasps as his grip on your waist threatens suffocation. "All I've been thinking about all night is wanting you all over me."
Thoughts of you craving him sends a fog over his vision and a rush in his blood. The percussive tap of your nail against the teeth of his zipper sends electric shocks coursing through him, jolting him into action to unzip himself and peel back his jeans and boxers just enough to release his cock from its confines. He strokes himself, his eyes swimming, distributing precum along his length before sinking his fingertips into your sides and lifting you up the wall, your shocked yelp cut short by his lips on yours. His hand slides along your thigh as your legs wrap around his waist, his hips pressing firmly into yours to pin you to the wall. You gasp aloud around his mouth as he adjusts you higher, angling so that his hardness presses right against the wetness of your lingerie, the friction setting your nerves alight.
As he ruts roughly against you, he fills the space between you with heated grunts. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you grip him for stability, fighting against gravity. Your arms slip on the silk of his shirt, grasping the fabric, and he heaves you up the wall again. His forehead presses to yours, his voice hesitant. "Do you... do you want me?" He gulps and thrusts. "Tell me you want me."
"Yes, yes, I want you, only you." In response his hips falter and his cock twitches against the lace of your lingerie. Again you slip against his silk shirt and hurriedly slide your fingers beneath his collar to run your hands down his back, seeking better traction, the sensation of his damp muscles compounding on the brush of silk across your arms. Between the elusive texture of the fabric around you and his sweat-slicked, tense muscles, you can barely keep a hold of this man who is fluidity personified. The clutching of your fingertips and digging of your nails into the broadness of his shoulders urges him to heave you upward again until finally you are perched atop his hips against the wall, stable and safe, welcoming his warm embrace.
The improved angle allows for him to reach his hand around your thigh to move your lingerie to the side, sliding his length along your folds, the glide coursing waves of bliss through both of you. The head of his cock repeatedly presses into your clit at an even, steady pace that has you floating and whining. "Hyuck, please, more." He removes himself from the crook of your neck to look you straight in the eyes, sincerity and devotion adorning his features as another car passes, shrouding his glistening features and patchy stage makeup in dim dancing shadows. The intent of his gaze is an inquiry, verifying that you are truly his and that the sight before his eyes of your flushed cheeks, cascading hair, and begging mouth is truly real.
"Hyuck," at the needy tone of your voice, his cock grinds against your folds again, "Hyuck, I want you," and again, "Please, I've been waiting so long," and again, "Hyu-" and your plea turns into a choked whimper as he pushes his head into your heat, agonizingly slowly. His breathing is labored, his arms flexed, his eyes fierce with determination. Your warmth and wetness surrounding him has him tense and quivering before he relinquishes his own self-control and begins to pump into you with strong, sure strokes. For every movement, he shoves you up and down the wall, your hair mussing and clumping against the surface.
Only he can fuck you this way, the ability of a dancer to hold you steady and upright with his broad shoulders, but also snap his hips into you with isolated precision, his fluid torso flexing rhythmically with unmatched stamina. For every thrust, every slight movement, the silky fabric of his shirt slides down his shoulders in languid fragments, slowly revealing his lean back muscles into which you dig your fingertips. The silky fabric collects at his elbows and around your feet hooked behind his back, swaying through the air with the rhythm he sets.
Tossing his head back, he lets out a high-pitched whine, his hair bouncing with movement, and you're inspired to grasp the strands of his bangs and pull them back. With furrowed eyebrows and spit-stained lips, he soundlessly mouths out, "Feels so good," and opens his eyes enough to take in your appearance before him, the visual of you open and desperate for him sending him higher. "I- I need you to look all f-fucked-out and pretty for me," He stumbles over his words as he tries to maintain control of the situation, but he's slowly coming undone and his nerves start to sing. "Can you do that for me?" With each motive thrust, your grip in his hair clenches and he releases short open-mouthed gasps.
Your hand sifts through his locks until you have a firm purchase on the meat of his jaw, turning his head to the side to murmur in his ear, "You already had me wet two hours ago at the venue." Eyes opening in surprise, he attempts to turn back with an inquisitive look, hips stuttering, but you continue to hold his jaw in place. "You looked so fucking good up there." His vulnerable eyes glimmer as he soaks in every word. "So confident, so handsome. God, you're so perfect." You continue to whisper loving encouragement and praise in his ear until he's weak at the knees. The sinful noises he releases are in reaction to your words more than the feel of you surrounding him, the warm moist air between you cut by his high whimpers and whines. Every syllable you speak lifts his ego higher.
His adrenaline spikes with the motivation of your breathless praise and encouragements, decorated with satisfied moans. If only you knew, he thought, exactly how much you drive him crazy. The lustful, aggressive body language of the motion of his hips is a stark contrast to his heartfelt eyes and adoration; his hips release pent-up kinetic energy while his eyes search for greater relief in your blissful expressions. So very eager for your affection, he is astonished and elated by your desire for him. An oncoming surge of overwhelming emotion overtakes him, plummeting him into a realm of mindlessly seeking his own high, getting off at the sheer thought of being loved.
Testosterone courses through his system, dissolving him into a grunting and groaning feisty mess. Sweat beads at his hairline as his fingertips grasp at your thighs, but in all of his damp fervor, your legs begin to slide down his skin and give out from their grasp around him. He swiftly clutches the underside of your thigh in order to open you wider against the wall, sourcing unknown strength for a dancer used and spent by the stage. Your shirt snags behind you, revealing a breast into the darkness of the open air, and Hyuck wastes no time in attaching his plump lips to the soft flesh, sucking a trail through the valley of your chest up to your neck. He nips and sucks at your skin with unbridled fervor, and you can't find it within you to hold back your cracked moans. The new angle of your leg pinned up by his strong hands has you climbing toward your peak, but the final blow comes in the form of his gaze meeting yours, his eyes searing with unmatched confidence and power to behold. You come in a flurry of lust, releasing around him as he continues to drive into you with steady strength.
He's so attractive like this, aggressively desperate, eagerly seeking his peak, instinctively grasping at your skin anywhere and everywhere he can. Your fucked-out expression and gasps for air have him craving release, inspired by the notion of being your pride. As he approaches his climax, his whines and cries become sharper, hoarser, louder. The bridge of his nose crinkles as he breathes through bared teeth, eyebrows furrowing in concentration and eyes shut tight. His body snaps as he drives out the ride of his orgasm, arms shaking with exertion and nose pressing into your cheek. As his cock throbs with each shot of his cum, his whimpers and gasps are muffled into your temple, lips sliding along your ear.
Taking a moment to float back down to reality, he slowly pulls out and lowers you down one leg at a time. Regarding your disheveled appearance and trembling hands, he holds you as you adjust your wobbly balance. He finds you endearing like this, he thinks, as he watches you study the placement of your feet alongside his boots, your fingers twisting into the moist silk covering his arms in an attempt to gain stability. Returning to your temple, he sinks his nose into your hair and breathes in with deep shaking breaths, running his fingers through the messy locks and holding you closely. Your sweet scent calms him into a state of serenity and his breathing evens. Lifting your eyes, you study his expression in the dark: messy hair, smeared makeup, and bitten red lips. Despite it, he is pure gentility, vulnerable tenderness, and as another car shines their passing lights across your apartment, his expression softens into warm adoration, a smile forming on his lips.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
synopsis | You had been going to a corner strip club for the past few months. Sure, maybe you only went because you had the hots for one of the performers, but you were originally satisfied from simply watching him from afar.
You knew it for yourself that you came here too often. Every Thursday night after work, it was routine to say goodbye to your coworkers with a bright and innocent smile to, only an hour or so later, be on the other side of town in a sultry outfit and in a male strip club. You could only imagine what they’d say when you gave a casual nod of acknowledgement to the bodyguard outside before entering the shady corner building.
But you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. Because the minute you stepped inside the club, it felt like the world had flipped over, and you were someone you were not, and the people around you were new and enticing and no one judged you for enjoying seemingly taboo practices.
The black lit room made all neons burn your eyes—shining a woman’s breasts a bright blue, highlighting another man’s lipgloss a deep purple, and the men on their pedestals knew how to catch the light in such an exciting fashion, attracting all eyes to the men with no shame.
The men were truly a sight to behold. They wore all types of sexual looks; some more innocent, some kinky and leather, others practically bare, blacklight body paint covering their skin. It’s what drew you to the club in the first place; boys who were comfortable in their masculinity to accent their features in an almost feminine way, happy to show themselves off in a vulnerable state, to be objects of desire in a confident demeanor.
But one man always stood out to you, and you wouldn’t be ashamed to say he’s the reason you made a habit of coming back, like an addiction. His stage name was Haechan; barely an adult, or so he advertised to draw in the crowds, who some expected to be shy and innocent but probably had the lewdest show of the night.
Back then you were shy. Nervous when you entered, afraid someone might try to drug you, yet curiosity had won you over to check out the club. To see scantily-clad men dancing left you blushing, yet when he came on—his first show—you couldn’t bear to tear your eyes away. His eyes had landed on you, but they barely left yours for the rest of his dance. And maybe it was a one time thing that didn’t mean anything, since you’ve regularly shown each night to watch him, and yet he never lingers.
But you’ve grown from your initial innocence, and you know better than to hope. And so you watch and admire and desire from a safe distance at the base of his platform or the edge of the crowd. And tonight was no different as you maneuvered through the bodies around you, moving up with a confident tilt of your head, waiting for his act to come on.
You stalk up to the bar with a curt greeting to the bartender before asking for a martini. You don’t mind listening to the various conversations drifting around you, the different tones in peoples’ voices as you wait. It’s fun to see the bartender work, and you give a polite smile and tip once your drink is done. You lift the glass to your lips and peek your eyes over the rim as you wander closer to the stage, satisfied as you lower your drink and place a hand in your pocket.
It was another few minutes before a spotlight shone on the curtain and the sexy jazz they had playing was replaced with a sultry song with a definite beat. Instantly, an excited buzz surged through your chest, moving through all your nerves and resting in the pit of your stomach. You wondered what he had tonight; Haechan was never one to disappoint.
He stepped out onto the stage with a suave air about him, his chin above the crowd as a natural smirk settled on his lips, a few stalking steps and he’s gripping the pole, lowering his hips in a bouncing crouch before swinging his body up and around, going upside down from the beginning, leaving you in a trance already.
He wore a black lingerie set, a color he sported often, and you admired the feminine touches on his masculine features. The high-waisted panties he wore criss-crossed from his hip to his waist a couple times, and the matching top went back and forth over his upper chest till the neck-line choked him snugly. Black bracers circled his wrists and you were always fascinated that he would wear heels as he danced.
Your favorite part was his neck up though. Because Haechan never failed to doll up his face, and you knew he did it himself; black smudged eyeliner, highlighted cheekbones, and—your favorite—a red lip. And by the end of the show, his hair was always messy, his skin sweaty, his cheeks flushed, and his lips would be bitten-raw and swollen, and you could never deny your fixation on his lips as he panted to catch his breath.
You were only snapped back to reality and aware of your surroundings when you heard a sharp squeal from your left. You raised a brow in slight irritation as you glanced over, but instantly recognized the woman wearing all white and hiding her eyes, her friends around her trying to pry at her hands with loud giggles. You noticed that Haechan kept glancing at her too, sending her practiced looks of seduction and you guessed she was a bride-to-be; this had to be her bachelorette party. You tried to ignore them in favor of watching Haechan work his way around the pole, grinding against the cold metal, his mouth falling open from the sensation. Somewhere along the line, you had started to gravitate towards the edge of the stage in your trance, and you were startled when he met your eye harshly.
Your grip on the crumpled twenty dollar bill in your pocket tightened as you swallowed, and his focused gaze turned a little more devious. He lowered himself on the pole into a crouch again, but this time, he placed his one knee down into a kneel so he could drag himself closer to you. He smirked as he was now looking directly down at you, but it felt strangely intimate since his bangs shielded his gaze from the other viewers.
You hesitantly withdrew the money from your pocket and his brow quirked. He rolled his hips cheekily as a temptation for you to be generous, but before you could place it on the stage by his hand, he gave a curt shake of his head. Your brows furrowed, and you curled your hand into a fist over the cash again. He let out an inaudible, breathy chuckle as he vaguely brought his hands up from his ankles to his thighs, glossing them over the skin before he playfully snapped his waistband.
Oh.
You had never done this before, since you had started coming here. You met his gaze again and steeled your nerves: this was the luckiest thing that had happened to you. You managed a smirk back as you impishly snaked the cash into the waistband, and his hand skimmed over yours to press the cash lower till it wasn’t visible. He winked at you before rightening himself back up and continuing the performance.
You felt winded as you watched him in awe; time felt slowed for those few moments there, so how did he get back to his routine so smoothly? No one seemed to take much notice to you—he was just getting some cash in a flashy way—so you hurried back to the edge of the crowd before someone might recognize you. You felt exhilarated, like your nerves were on fire, but, God, did you need a drink now. You were way too thirsty for this.
You lingered around the edge of the crowd till he finished, biting your lip as he spun a couple more times, performing his signature sexual moves before he ended with one knee hooked around the pole. Everyone around you echoed screams and cheers, but Haechan just gasped for air, sending out a charming smile as he leaned down to collect the money thrown at him.
And as he stood again, you were consciously aware that he was sporting a bulge this time; usually he was able to control it or at least conceal it, but maybe the set he wore wasn’t as protective. You slowly dragged your gaze up his torso and felt a shiver down your spine to see his eyes set on you again. He raised a brow in amusement as he spun around and made his way behind the curtain, little more to help you understand the behavior.
You tried to shake it off and looked around; his act was over, so maybe you could go get another drink then head home.
You had barely placed in your next order, a Manhattan this time, before you heard hushed bickering and then a call in your direction. Naturally, you glanced over but only drew in your brows out of confusion to see the bridal party inch your way. You uneasily glanced around to see if you should avoid them, but you really wanted the drink you just paid for.
“Yes?” You questioned hesitantly, your hands kept in your coat pockets out of discomfort. The woman who ushered you over sighed dramatically and glanced back at the bride who was blushing but scowling.
“Do you want a private show?” You had just received your drink and taken a sip, but you almost choked on it as she continued, “I scheduled one for her for her last night of freedom, but she’s convinced it’s cheating so she refuses, but I already paid and I’m not wasting my money.”
“Ladies—” You felt tongue-tied. “Why don’t you just have a private show?”
She chuckled. “He’s not really my type, though I do think he knows his way around the pole.”
You eyed her warily but had an inkling who she meant, and you tried to ignore the energy in your gut. “Which dancer?”
“Haechan,” she tilted her head and smirked lightly, “I thought I’d offer it to you because you seemed pretty into the show.”
“I—“ you swallowed with a frown as an unwarranted flush of red came upon your cheeks at the reminder of placing cash in the man’s panties. You glanced behind her at the private room, a room you thought you’d never be able to afford going in, before returning your gaze to her. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah,” she smiled. “Is that a yes?”
“Y-yeah. Thank you so much.” You placed down your half-finished glass before you staggered past her in a slight daze, and she held a hand on your shoulder as she walked you over, almost overly enthusiastic about offering you a lap dance from a man you’ve lusted after for months.
With a quick “have fun!” She opened and shut the door on you, causing you to stumble into the dark room. You blinked a couple times to adjust, and then you saw the vanity in the corner, and the boy in front of it with a figure you instantly wanted to touch and mark.
Haechan stood there, lipstick in hand and hair askew on his sweaty forehead, looking at you with a dulled sense of shock that turned into one of amusement with a dangerous edge. “I was expecting the bride.”
You cleared your throat and prayed your voice wouldn’t waver. “Her friends said she didn’t want it; she sent me in instead.” He only raised his brow, turning back to the mirror and finished painting his lips a deep and sensual red.
“Last time I checked you weren’t married.”
“I’m not,” you shrugged, not being able to look away from his enchanting side profile. “Do I need to be to receive the dance?”
He glanced over briefly with a short snort. “Well it’d be a bit out of the norm to give a single woman the special.”
“There’s a bridal special?” You furrowed your brows. “This isn’t a regular lap dance?”
“No,” he capped the lipstick and placed it down gently, swiping a hand through his hair and patting his forehead with a towel. “I’m wondering if you really deserve it.”
You bit your lip at that. That vague response sent crazy thoughts through your head that shot straight to your core, but then again you weren’t sure if his words were personally hostile. “You don’t have to give it to me if you don’t want to.” You tried to seem nonchalant.
He paused in reapplying his eyeliner to click his tongue. “Do you not want it?”
“I do, but—”
“Then act like it, princess,” he shook his head so his curls bounced out in an intimation of an aftersex halo, and his piercing, accented eyes settled on you, his form stalking over and you felt yourself go stiff. “I’m here to do my job, and I’d rather not have to strain myself to please you.”
“Isn’t that the point of a lap dance?” You tried to quip back as his face neared, his hand ghosting over your cheek before lowering to your hand, pulling you over to a chair you hadn’t seen earlier.
“No, it’s not. I’m here to tease.” And with that he sat you down, picking his phone out of his waistband—where you had placed money earlier, but you rid yourself of the thought quickly—and flicking through a playlist. You watched in anticipation as he clicked on one, and a more sensual song than his performance began to play.
You thought all oxygen would leave your head when he placed down his phone and smoothly straddled your hips. You knew he heard your sharp inhale from the split second smirk that crossed his lips. “You wondered about the bridal special, right?” You could only manage a nod before he draped his arms over the back of your chair and began to roll his hips. “Well you can touch.”
He emphasized his words by pressing his hips into yours and his hands moved from behind you to land on your shoulders, smoothing down your arms and taking your jacket off in the process. You choked back a whine as you slowly brought your hands up to touch his waist where the fabric crossed, and he made a noise low in his throat. Your eyes snapped up to meet his and the corner of his lips quirked up in challenge, the sound of your jacket hitting the floor like the bell for a match to start.
You tightened your grip on his waist, stroking down his hips and he hummed appreciatively, his hands moving behind him to land on your knees, and now his hips circled on your lap. You felt your mouth grow dry as you stared at his crotch; he took notice of your gaze and jerked his hips, snapping them towards your face. Your hands smoothed down to his thighs and you gripped them, your nails digging into the skin. He made a whimpering noise barely blocked by his bitten lip, his head falling back away from you, and yet his pace never faltered. With his head away from you, your desire won over to try something.
Hesitantly, you drew your hand from his outer thigh to inner, circling your thumb into the skin right on the edge of his most sensitive part. You felt him shudder but he didn’t push you away, so with baited breath, you palmed him semi-roughly. He let out a loud gasp, his head rolling around to stare down his torso into your eyes and at your hand over his panties. You took that as encouragement to press a little harder and soon you felt all sense fly out the window because once the music ended, your other hand crawled over his torso and he leaned up and over to connect your lips, his hands moving from your knees to tangle in your locks.
By now you knew this was farther than he meant, farther than the bridal special includes, but maybe this was personal. You weren’t given much time to dwell on it because Haechan pulled you back harshly by the hair, separating from the bruising kiss with a gasp as he made quick work of biting flowers into your neck and leaving butterfly kisses. Your hands couldn’t find a steady place over his torso, feeling dazed as he tilted your head back down to meet your lips.
This time when you parted, you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth at seeing his smudged red lip. You chased his lips again, causing his eyes to flutter and hands to softly press on your shoulders to have enough time to breath. “I hope you know I’d never let this slide with anyone else.”
“I’m sorry?” You panted, looking at his disheveled hair as he worked at stripping you of your pants.
“This bridal special? Usually I would never make an exception; if you’re not the person who was intended for the dance, I wouldn’t do it. But when it comes to you…”
“Do you actually know who I am?” You put a briefly-halting hand on his forearm to stop him in his ministrations. “Like you know—?”
“Your name and that you come every time I perform, yeah,” you could tell he was struggling to ignore his bulge in favor of responding to you but he was finding it increasingly hard. “I’m Donghyuck, by the way. I’d rather you call me that during sex.”
You let him continue as you dwelled on his words in a haze, surprised pleasantly at the news. You’re only torn out of it when your pants are off and you feel his kiss at the inside of your knee. Your eyes softened when he looked up at you with hooded eyes. He quickly kissed up to your inner thigh, pushing up your shirt and tugging so you take it off in a rush, his mouth pulling away so his hand could take its place over your panties. He hummed as he circled where a wet spot had formed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel any shame as he tugged down the sides to reveal yourself to him.
His delicately moved forward to kitten-lick at your core, a long stripe at your folds before mouthing at your nub. You tightened your grip on the armrest but couldn’t resist throwing your head back when he looked up at you innocently, his eyeliner messy around his big eyes and his gorgeous red lips pleasing you.
Donghyuck ate you out like his life depended on it, like he couldn’t have enough of your flavor and you’re not sure if he ever left you long enough to breathe. He sucked on your clit, dragged his teeth along your folds and dove his tongue past them to lap at your leaking flow. You had been making mindless sounds throughout his actions and once you felt an orgasm building, you tried to push him away as you twitched. His eyebrows furrowed and he grabbed your hand, placing it back down on the armrest as he went back to work at you with a new vigor, and suddenly you felt one of his fingers enter you without resistance, your hips jerking as you keen. Your orgasm built twice as quickly as he fingered at you relentlessly, almost excited to taste your juices on his tongue and the thought alone sent you over. You felt yourself go with a loud whine and trembling of your muscles, and when you managed to open your eyes, you were greeted by the sight of Donghyuck leaning back on his haunches, drawing his cum-coated finger into his mouth and sucking with a moan, his eyes lidding as he pulled it back out.
His eyes settled on your core once more and he thumbed at your clit, causing you to whine and squirm. He placed a hand on your hip and looked up, licking his lips. “You can handle another, right? You taste so sweet.” You made a low begging sound but he already dipped two fingers into your heat and began to drill them back and forth so quickly that a loud squelch was heard each time. You gasped and tried to kick away but he held against your weak attempts at stopping your overstimulation, and soon another orgasm ripped through you with a broken whimper. He brought his lips to your core and lapped at your slick with such satisfied fervor you weren’t sure you could handle actually having sex with him if you were already close to being winded from two orgasms from oral alone.
“D-Donghyuck—”
“Ready, princess?” And he stood and slowly pulled you up from sitting, holding you tightly by the waist to keep your shaky legs upright. He briefly met your gaze and you saw his smirk; he knew you were exhausted, that brat. You weakly dropped your hands to his waist, pulling at the waistband of the panties slightly teasingly, and he hummed as your hand slowly moved down to grab at his member through the fabric, and suddenly, you didn’t feel so tired.
“Your turn?” You asked, almost hopefully. The thought of deepthroating him, giving him as intense of pleasure and hearing him moan, sent a surprisingly strong rush of arousal through you again. He almost seemed to grimace as your other hand slipped under his top to trace his nipple, hardening it.
“No, not this time. I just want to be inside you.” You tightened your grip on his member with a pout but smiled a little teasingly and relented when he choked as you felt it twitch in your hand.
“Fine, but I want to repay you sometime.”
“Oh, trust me,” he hummed, turning you around and urging you forward to grab onto the back of the chair. “You will definitely have chances to.”
You bit your lip and looked over your shoulder to see him push down the panties he wore to pull out his member and you made an appreciative sound. He glanced up and smiled knowingly as he stroked himself a few times and quickly put on a condom that he must have grabbed from the dresser earlier.
You shook your ass back and forth and he chuckled as he stepped forward, smoothing a hand down your spine and hooking it around your hip, kneading the skin with his fingers. “You ready?”
“Does it seem like I’m not?” You smirked over your shoulder at him and he scoffed, smacking your ass lightly.
“I’m just checking, God, you brat. Let me know if it hurts.” And then he pushed his tip into your core. You made a groan in your throat at the feeling of the stretch, dropping your head to look down in between your arms. You felt him circle his fingers over your hips, but you weren’t sure if it was to help you relax or to distract him from drilling into you while you adjusted.
His lips fell on your shoulder and bit a few more possessive hickeys into the skin, and a hand snaked under your torso to close in on your throat lightly. “Head up.” His voice was teasing but warning, and the squeeze he gave before letting go as he started to move his hips sent a shock through you, and you bowed your back as to give him good access and to remind yourself not to drop your head.
Almost instantly, it was like he switched; he brought one foot up on the seat and began to rock his hips at a brutal pace, rolling his into yours at an expert angle. You let out a cry and your hands tightened on the seat, your head starting to fall as the feeling overtook you for a moment.
But only a moment was necessary for him to wrap your hair around his hand and yank it back up. You yelped at the sharp sensation then keened as his front went flush against your back for him to tut disappointingly, with an edge, “What did I tell you? Can you do nothing right, princess?”
“I-I’m trying not to.” You stuttered between your pants, sure your juices had to be leaking down your legs from his movements and words.
“Trying isn’t good enough,” he sighed, but it came out more like a hiss. “Maybe I shouldn’t let you cum if you can’t follow simple directions.”
“N-no, I can, I can,” you pressed your ass against him almost unconsciously in hopes it’d entice him to not deny you pleasure.
He only squeezed your ass for it, causing you to let out a raw gasp. “Don’t test your luck, brat. We’ll see how generous I feel.” He chuckled breathily—sadistically—and let go of your hair just enough for him to adjust his position to fuck you easier and hopefully reach your orgasm faster. It only seemed to be seconds before you felt the familiar feeling in your lower stomach.
“D-Donghyuck, please.”
“Are you about to cum? Already?” You could hear the smirk in his voice and it made your face flush in excited shame.
“Yes, I am,” you were finding it hard to think and keep your eyes open, and you knew you’d start to cry if he denied you.
His hand massaged at your waist and lower back before he kissed your shoulder, “I’ll let it slide this time. You can let go, princess.” And with a few more strokes, you came undone on his member, meeting his movements with your own hips with a whimper. Thankfully, he didn’t get onto you for dropping your head and quivering all over, and he held you up by the waist as he continued pouring into you to reach his own high, grunting as he managed to reach the edge. You almost came again by just how high-pitched and beautiful his moan was, and when you glanced over your shoulder, his closed eyes and open mouth were just as arousing of a sight.
But you were both spent, you knew, and he turned you around so he could collapse into the seat and pull you into his lap. You hummed in part surprise and comfort as you realized you were cockwarming him, his head on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. You reached a hand back to card through his hair and he chuckled lightly, kissing at the nape of your neck.
“Sorry if I left marks,” he sighed, sounding unbelievably tired. Any sadistic or teasing qualities seemed to be out of his system.
“It’s okay,” you promise, “I love marks.”
“Good, I’ll leave more from now on.”
“From now on?” You looked at him best you could, seeing as he was still inside you.
“Did you not want to do this again?” He finally raised his head, his eyes opening and refocusing.
You felt yourself turn pink at how soft yet hot he looked in all his aftersex glory. “N-no, I want to but is this feeling driven or just sex?”
He hummed and kissed your jaw. “You think too much,” he sighed with a chuckle. “If I’m still here letting you sit on my dick, what do you think?”
You whacked his arm but turned in his lap to straddle him and rest your own head on his shoulder. “Shut up, but...good.”
He smiled sleepily and rubbed at your lower back, closing his eyes again and ignoring the fact that he was still at work.
Because right now, he was content. And he was sure one of his coworkers could buy him some time.
Description: When a high school reunion drags you back from the bustling city to your hometown, you can’t help but feel inadequate compared your friends’ settled lives, who have thing you want most— kids. You may get your most desperate wish when your long-lost best friend sweeps into town, not quite the introverted nerd he was from 10 years ago.
Genre: high school reunion au smut | romance
WC: 16k
Warnings: graphic smut (Dom! Johnny + Sub! Reader, dirty talk, !!!pregnancy kink!!!, unprotected sex, oral sex, rough sex, bulge kink, slight exhibitionism, footsie, slight cum eating, overstimulation), mentions of adultery
(A/N: I’m dedicating this fic to my bestie, my Ten to my Taeyong, my vanilla bean to my weird kinky shit: @kookyong. Thank you so much for supporting me through the creation of this fic and cheering me on when I felt down. Also, fuck you, you stole my idea of dedication before I even told you. Also, a huge thanks to @lovingyong for beta-ing a part of this story and providing such great feedback! I’d also like to thank @galaxybeeji and @aveluant1a for helping me translate some Korean.)
Also, please don’t have unprotected sex and stay safe.
A sigh leaves your lips as you sip at your beer, basking in the electronic light of your phone in the dim, crowded bar. You started reaching over for another fry in the basket, but as you looked up from your phone you noticed there was less than a fourth of the fries remaining.
Apparently, you were steadily but surely devouring the fry basket no one had touched.
Truly, you had no idea why you were here, sitting alone in a dark booth, watching your co-workers slowly lose their inhibitions as the night went on. The little get together your coworkers made took over the whole bar, filling it with laughter and yells all around.
You scrolled through more pictures of your friends’ perfect family lives, each photo of a white-picket house they were moving into or the welcoming their new child slowly piled weight onto your chest. While you have never been claustrophobic, you felt the walls and the people of this little dingy bar on 43rd street close in on you like a vice.
Scooting out of the booth, you stayed to the sides of the crowded room while attempting to navigate groups of tipsy adults. You inwardly cringed of how much you stood out, a dark spot staining the convivial atmosphere.
“Y/N?”
You whipped around wide-eyed to see Sara standing behind you, a slight sloppy smile plastered to her face as your middle-aged co-workers stared at her unabashedly. Young, beautiful, vivacious— Sara was the office catch, in her red slip and heels. She was dressed to kill.
“Hey! Sara,” you said awkwardly, twiddling with the flap of your purse. Even standing in your best slinky dress in front of her, you felt like a washed out, pale imitation of her.
“Where are you off to? The party just started!” she giggled, the shimmery sequins of her dress sparkling along with her smile.
You quickly tried to formulate a valid excuse. “I actually—”
A loud ring came from your cell phone, vibrating against your thigh.
“I just need to step out real quick to answer this call,” you smiled softly, hoping to convey you needed to take this urgent call as quickly as possible.
“Well, okay,” she pouted. You motioned to step out but a soft hand on your arm stopped you.
Turning back to Sara, she looked unusually serious as she gripped your arm slightly.
“Y/N, have some fun here, alright? You work so hard, you deserve a night out. Especially since you’re all alone-”
What you hoped was a smile was plastered to your face as you shook yourself out of her grip, your small “thanks” murmured into a loud bar unheard as you stepped out.
“Cynthia?” you asked into the phone, sitting on a chair on the terrace.
“Y/N! Oh my god, girl, how are you?” your high school friend squealed into the phone.
Wondering how she could be awake at this time as a new mom, you quickly realized she was a few hours behind New York time.
“Hey yourself, I’m doing well. How about you?” you asked softly.
“I’m doing well! I just had to tell you about Ryland! Our new son, remember? So-”
As she gushed over the first words of her newborn baby, you hummed and agreed at the appropriate moments. You marveled at how much she had changed since your high school days. This was a big difference from the wild girl from high school you knew, the girl with sharp cheekbones with an even sharper wit. Now, in her profile pictures she was rounded and aglow from the joys of motherhood. Your hand slowly rose to meet where your eye and cheekbone met, feeling the flesh that lay there. You had no laugh lines.
“-invitation?”
“Huh?” you asked, shaking out of your stupor.
Cynthia huffed. “Sily, I said did you get my invite on Facebook?”
“No,” you said plainly. You were lying, of course. You had seen the invite, but you scrolled past without even looking at the title.
A groan resounded from the phone. “Y/N, what am I supposed to do with you? God, it’s an invite to our high school reunion!”
Immediately, you wanted to say no. Like, hell no, but you thankfully held your tongue.
“Oh, really? That’s great, Cynthia, but I’m afraid I can’t go—”
“Wait! I haven’t even mentioned the date! It’s a few weeks from now, and you just have to go! Everyone does!”
Truthfully, you had no desire to go back to your old town and see your friends’ perfect families and their perfect kids, their perfect domestic lives. Your high school reunion was always popular with alumni as an event to flaunt how much they were making, how gorgeous their significant other was, how adorable their kids were. It was all one big clusterfuck of gossip and arrogance— not endearing at the slightest.
“Everyone misses you, Y/N. I know I do.”
“I miss you too but I don’t know, I’m really busy with work—”
“Shut up, Y/N. You’re just using that as an excuse since you’re too scared to face everyone.”
Ah, there’s her sharp riposte. Her wit had not dulled with her age, it seems.
“Cynthia—” you stuttered, unable to reply to her retort.
“You bet your ass I will fly out to New York, find you in that concrete jungle then drag you back to attend this goddamn reunion.”
“...I’ll see,” you relented.
“Great! So—” a baby’s cry resounded in the background. “Oh my gosh, I have to go to Ryland now! I’ll text you the details later, bye bye!”
The dark screen of your phone stared back at you as she hung up on you. You could only pray to some higher being this reunion wouldn’t turn out badly.
The skyline of your hometown was unfamiliar to you.
There were a few shadows added, maybe some missing, maybe not. It is not the familiar curves and dips you always used to see when you glanced out your bedroom window.
Even passing through the main part of the town itself, it was so surreal. There were so many new buildings of glass and concrete that juxtaposed the old timey feel of the main street. New signs, new roads, new people passed by you in your Lyft ride.
You had to stop yourself from wondering over the town when you saw your breath fog up the windshield and you hastily jerked back. You hoped the driver didn’t see you looking like an excited 8 year old.
As the car slowly turned into your parent’s neighborhood, a wave of pure nostalgia hit you like a truck. As your eyes traced over the familiar houses on your street, a whole flood of innocent, child-like memories came back to you. All the times playing ball in the street with your neighbor, or even waiting nervously at the bus stop for the first day of school— long forgotten things from your past rose up.
Memories of tanned skin and wide smiles filled your memory, and you felt a pang with in your heart.
Johnny Suh.
“Uhm, ma’am? We’re here?”
You were shaken out of your memories but the sound of the Lyft driver looking at you nervously through his rearview window.
“Oh, sorry sir! Thank you for the ride.”
Your two heavy suitcases rolled behind you as you strolled through your parents’ large driveway, and your heart started to beat nervously as you saw the front door slowly getting larger.
Hands trembling, you rung the doorbell and stared into the cloudy glass.
You heard flurry of footsteps pitter patter to the front, and you thought you were prepared when your mother opened front door, but turns out you weren’t.
“Y/N?”
Your mother looked as beautiful as ever, the crow lines underneath her eyes and the wisps of grey in her hair looking gorgeous. You haven’t seen her in years, and you could feel a gathering of tears in your waterline.
“Mommy,” you said, choking up a bit towards the end.
“My darling girl? My sweetheart? You’re here?”
“Yes, mom.”
“Y/D/N, come! Y/N is back!”
As your dad came tearing down the hall and his eyes focused on you, you saw his old eyes brighten and fill up with tears.
“My little turtle?”
“Hi daddy!” you smile weakly, giving a little wave.
“Come and give your dad a hug! I haven’t seen you in so long!”
As you rested in the embrace of your mother and father, you thought that maybe coming home wasn’t so bad at all.
The afternoon sun beat down upon your bare shoulders, your wide-brimmed boater hat offering no respite.
You could only drink your ice-cold lemonade in hopes of cooling down and not feeling like a sweaty rat, fanning yourself with a menu and looking over the balcony.
“—and Ryland goes “I wanna pear, mommy!” and then Callie says ,”Ryland, that’s a potato.” It was a mango!”
Cynthia cracked up laughing, and you let out a few peals of laughter so as to not seem awkward. Every time Cynthia mentioned her darling kids, a burning jealousy gripped your heart until you could only see green. You truly wish you could enjoy your friends’ stories about how her kids could say the darndest things, but it only increased your yearning for kids tenfold.
“Well, enough about my life. How’s your job in the Big Apple? You’re one of those white collar types now, aren’t you?”
You sipped at the lemonade, wishing it was something much stronger. Your eyes swept over her appearance; the Facebook pictures were wrong, she was much more radiant in person. “You could say that, I guess. I travel a lot, though I’m only in New York half of the year. Usually I end up in the UK or Beijing. My work is very good to me.”
Cynthia sighed in faux envy, her hand resting over her swollen breasts from pregnancy. “You’re so cool, Y/N. It must be so fun traveling all over the world and seeing all these new things, tasting all the great food!”
You thought back to your large, empty apartment overlooking the Greenway that felt more like a showroom.The film of dust your housekeeper had to clean. The vacant adjacent plane seats. The uncomfortable fact you never had someone to go home to.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
After a few minutes of light hearted chat, your straw was sucking at your almost empty glass. God, you needed to pee.
“Sorry, Cy. I gotta go to the restroom for a minute, un momento!”
After relieving yourself, you stepped out of the restroom only to walk face first into a well-built chest. As much as you wanted to press your whole body onto his delicious one, it wasn’t exactly societally acceptable to be seen rubbing yourself against a stranger like a dog in the heat.
You (unfortunately) moved back, apologizing profusely. “I am so sorry, are you alrig...”
The last syllables left your mouth at the pace of molasses at your shock of seeing this god of a man in front of you. Tall, broad shouldered, with hidden muscles flexing under his casual white oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his veiny forearms.
And his face. His face was like sin, chiseled as hell with pouty lips and sharp eyes. But as your gaze roamed over his features, you saw the scar near his lips that was barely visible. Only one person you knew had that unique scar, in its unique placement. He got it from accidentally knocking his trumpet too hard into his lips in sophomore year.
“Johnny?!” you gasped.
His face brightened up for a second, a brilliant gleam to his eyes until it went away in a flash.
“Y/N.”
His dark, tenor tone raised gooseflesh along your bare arms and shoulders. This was definitely not the Johnny you knew so well from high school.
After a moment of awkward silence (he didn’t look inclined to embrace you in a hug or even speak), and you spoke up. “Um, it’s great to see you. You look good.”
“Thanks, you too,” he said shortly.
A slight crease formed on your brow as you frowned lightly, not used to his coldness. If this were the Johnny you knew in high school, he would’ve wrapped you in a big bear hug with his long, lanky limbs flailing. He looked like he grew into those limbs.
“Well, do you have time to catch up? I haven’t seen you in a decade,” you breathed out.
He pursed his lips for a moment. “Sorry, I’m afraid I can’t. I’m only here because I’m meeting an old investor.”
It was only then you noticed his fancy watch and his shined Weston shoes, along with the dark leather briefcase he had in his hand. He looked like a Wall Street shark.
You were sure your face fell for a second, since he frowned minutely, until you felt a mask of pity snap into place. “That’s a shame. Well, have fun with your investor. See you… sometime.”
You bravely moved to pat his arm, and his face did not change even when you passed by him. You felt his intense gaze upon your retreating figure and until you were sure he couldn’t see you, sprinted through the crowded cafe to your balcony table with Cynthia.
“God, what took you so long?” she complained. “Our food already arrived.”
“Did you know Johnny Suh was in town?! I just ran into him!” you fake whispered.
Her brows lifted in surprise. “No? I didn’t see him on the Facebook guest list—”
You quickly pulled out your phone and opened the invite list. There, in dark navy font, was Johnny Suh.
“He was your best friend, right? The nerdy band kid you was always with?”
You felt the edges of your mouth pull down. “Hey, he’s not like that. He was a great and friendly guy! But I haven’t seen him in forever.”
“Well, how is he?”
“I-He looked like a damn god, Cynthia. He’s so different from high school. I couldn’t even recognize him,” you breathed out.
Her eyebrows only climbed higher in surprise. “Well, I’ll be. Was not expecting that.”
You snorted. “No one was, even his fucking best friend of 4 years didn’t.”
Cynthia took a bite of her salad, a look of contemplation upon her rounded features.
“Something wrong, Y/N?”
You hugged yourself and looked away. “Well, when I say he’s not like from before, he really isn’t. I wasn’t expecting him to be this cold.”
This really wasn’t a situation you wanted to be in. At all.
Sitting here in a pretty, floral sundress, sitting on a park bench in the midst of all your former classmates chatting with decked out strollers parked beside them.
You tried your best to not feel uncomfortable, as Cynthia looked like she was enjoying herself, but this was simply not your speed. You’d never expected Cynthia to be friends with the popular kids at school in the future, but look where she was now. Chattering and giggling with the rest of them.
Your discomfort was only enforced by how different you looked from everybody, how Cynthia’s PTA mom friends were dressed like they were about to go to play tennis. They knew each other well and could giggle and gossip, but you were in your own isolated world.
Last, but not least:
They all had children.
You stared enviously at the little angels ran around the playground, screaming and cavorting about. Some stumbled on their legs, new to the concept to walking, but some sat quite passively staring out in space. Reluctantly, a smile crept upon your face as a group of little ones played tag. They ran, weaving in and out between children and playground equipment. Your eyes followed a darling girl dressed in red, with her cheeks flushed in excitement as she zoomed around but then--wham!-- slammed into a playground pole.
A gasp escaped your mouth and you almost stood up to go to her, until a tired groan resounded from across from you as a tanned blonde lazily got up to attend to her child. Then, you were bitterly reminded that, no, that was not your beautiful child.
“Oh my, poor Kayla, that little darling is always getting hurt! Bless her poor heart!” a woman (Kendall, maybe?) dressed in neon pink cooed her concern.
You could only sulk in pathetic silence as you deliberately excluded yourself from the conversation, too uncomfortable and upset to truly feel at place. Hell, it wasn’t just because you were clearly an outsider, it was the way this group of women treated people they thought lower them. Sudden memories came to you of Johnny’s crooked smile fading as he realized they never thought of him as a friend. How his friendly, warm personality was used against him as he helped them with their homework but was never truly thought as “in”. He cried so much that night.
“-you nowadays, Y/N?”
You whipped your head back around to see one of the nicer women, Katie, smiling at you as the whole group focused on your angered face.
“I’m sorry, come again? I’m afraid I was distracted.”
She laughed. “No problemo, sweetie. I just said ‘How are you?’ What’s going on in your life?”
A tight smile spread across your mouth. “I’m doing well right now. I work in New York as a private manager for J.P. Morgan,” you said politely, steeling yourself for the onslaught of questions.
“Ooh, so do you get paid well? Do you travel a lot?” someone butt in. You turned to see it was that one noisy theater kid (Anna?) and you decided to answer politely.
You tittered out a delicate laugh, the type you emit when you have to play nice with a client. You turn a modest smile Anna’s way. “I get by comfortably, and yes, I’m usually out of the country until someone here,” you side-eyed Cynthia, who waved cheerfully, “convinced me to come back for the reunion.”
Noises of approval came from the group, and they continued to ask polite questions until one sugary sweet drawl slithered in.
“Well, you sound so accomplished! This is all so amazing,” the tanned, voluptuous brunette 2 seats down from you piped up. “But, do you have anyone to share it with? Any hotshot hubby? Darling kids?”
You gritted your teeth, “No, unfortunately my job hasn’t allowed me to have much personal time.”
The other part of group turned away, wandering into other conversations and leaving the two of you relatively alone. She gasped dramatically, showing her immaculate gel manicure. “Are you even of the female kind?!” she playfully joked, but you could hear the undertone of smugness beneath.
Oh. Now you remember.
Victoria Edwards, that little bitch from the church group that always seemed to hate you. You had no idea what was her problem, especially since your parents had long been friendly with hers. Perhaps it was the fact you were amiable with everyone while many were tired of her spoiled attitude. Nevertheless, every chance she had to spite you or make things uncomfortable, she took it. Victoria did it with such calculated anger, you wondered what you ever did wrong to her. You never found out; she just had it out for you.
You shrugged modestly, careful to hide your trembling fingers in the folds of your dress lest you reach out a put her in a chokehold.
“But don’t you want kids? Who’s going to take care of you when you get older?” she continued, a look of faux pity on her heart-shaped face.
She just can’t stop, huh?
“Perhaps if everything slows down,” you replied carefully.
“Your eggs are going to get cold if you wait too long! I’ve heard those new fangled procedures for older women are very risky with a low chance of—”
“Thank you for the advice, Victoria. You seem very well-read on it— since your husband is always busy, you know— and you sound like you have some good experience under your belt. I’ll come to you for any help.”
You send a charming smile her way, and slowly rise up from your comfortable perch. Waving a goodbye Cynthia’s way, you continue to depart.
You refrain from sashaying away.
Wandering through the paths of your town’s best park, you reveled in the feeling of truly being in nature for the first time in over a decade. New York had Central, sure, but your town’s really immersed you in the outdoors without sky-scraping structures looming threateningly over you.
Closing your eyes to feel the radiant sunshine on your skin, you were startled when a little girl’s cry broke the peaceful silence of the area. It sounded muffled, but not too far away from where you were from.
“Hello? Sweetie, where are you?”
The cries only grew louder, and your footsteps only grew more frantic as you searched through the undergrowth.
“Hold, I’m coming to get you—”
You burst into a secluded part of the path and see a familiar little girl in a yellow jumpsuit bawling her eyes. You spotted a blotch of red and brown on her pale elbow and you practically ran to her shaking figure.
“Oh, poor sweetie, are you okay?”
She pulled her head out from her knees and cautiously stared at you, her cries dying down. You recognize her immediately. She was Cynthia’s snarky little 5 years old, Callie.
“I want M-mommy,” she pouted, rubbing her eyes so adorably you couldn’t help but melt.
“Hey, hey, don’t worry it’s Aunt Y/N,” you smiled kindly at her.
“A-Auntie?” she sniffled.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
She put her arms up and you obliged, careful not to jostle her wound too badly.
“Let’s go to Mommy, alright? It’s gonna be A-Okay.”
She buried your face in your neck, her soft puffs of hair brushing your cheek and you almost melted right there on the spot.
“You wanna tell me what happened, baby?” you asked, taking a fast past towards the trail path.
“I twipped on somethin’,” she mumbled.
“I’m so sorry sweet girl, how much does it hurt?”
“Vewy bad.”
“Oh dear,” you whispered.
As soon as you saw a small shed that had a red cross over it, you quickly made your way on over. Sitting her on the counter gently, you smiled your best smile.
“Auntie’s gonna get you all cleaned up, okay?”
She nodded, and you took that as consent when you reached for a first aid kit. You immediately cringed, knowing the first step was going to be painful for both of you.
“Baby, to get rid of the red and black, I’m gonna have to clean it. It might sting a bit so can you a strong girl for me?”
You saw her stubbornness Cynthia frequently complained about, as she jutted out her lip and nodded resolutely.
Getting out the alcohol and pads, you gave her a warning as you lightly pressed, She made a noise of discomfort, and your head snapped up to see if she was any pain.
“Callie?”
“I-I’m fine, Auntie,” she mumbled firmly.
Pinching her cheek playfully, you continued to disinfect the wound to reveal a light scrape on the skin of her elbow. Wrapping it up nice and tight, you patted her thigh.
“All done, baby,” you smiled. “Good job,” you pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Is she yours?”
You let out a little scream as you dropped the cotton pads. You snapped your head to see Johnny Suh in a sleeveless tank and jogging shorts, a light sheen to his muscles from his work out.
He has one fit bod, a part of you whispered. The veins in his toned forearms, his fit calves, the hint of his strong chest in his tank—
There was a child next to you, for god’s sake!
Callie was laughing next to you, all her pain forgotten. Recovering from your shock, you rolled your eyes and playfully booped her on the nose, causing her to swat at it playfully.
“You silly little goose,” you chastized. She giggled even more, a beautiful smile split on her face.
A cough resounded from behind you and you remembered Johnny fucking Suh was behind you in the hottest workout gear you’ve ever seen and you blanched.
“So?” he raised an eyebrow, nodding towards Callie.
“Nope, this little sweetheart is Cynthia’s,” you said, squeezing Callie closer.
“Oh,” he merely said. You thought you detected a glimpse of relief on his face, before he moved it to that impassive mask.
His sharp eyes zoomed in on the bandage at her elbow and he frowned. “What happened? Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine, just a minor trip,” you soothed, picking up Callie from the counter.
“Auntie, who is that?” she inconspicuously whispered, causing you to muffle your laughter against her head. Johnny had a slightly amused grin on his face.
“That’s Mr. Johnny. He’s an old… friend of mine,” you informed her, shifting her on your hip.
“Hi Mr. Johnny! I’m Callie and I’m 6 years old!” Callie brightly smiled, holding up 5 fingers.
“Sweetie, you need one more finger to make six,” you giggled, as you uncurled another finger on her other palm to make six.
Johnny let out a chuckle and bent down to eye level with the child in your arms. “Hiya kid. You can call me Johnny.”
“How old are you Mister Johnny? You look… like… very old!,” Callie flails her arms, unable to properly express the number.
A small smile graced his face, a glow in his eyes as he looked at the small child in your arms. His face wasn’t the one you saw in the cafe. “Not quite, baby. I’m the same age as your mommy.”
Callie continued to entertain Johnny as the three of you walked down the path, towards where her mom was sitting. Eventually, the adrenaline of the whole experience of getting hurt and meeting someone new wore off, and she slept soundly on your shoulder.
An awkward silence permeated between you and Johnny, as you busied yourself with the scenery you had seen hundreds of times while he regressed to his cold persona. His presence next to you was too close yet too far, and you could feel how tense you were walking next to him. Sometimes, his arm would brush against your shoulder and it ignited a series of nerves you haven’t felt in years. It was like there was a furnace flowing underneath your skin. You curled Callie in your arms a bit tighter to stave off whatever he was doing to you.
You felt Callie rustle a bit and you knew that if she woke up, she would be extremely grumpy so you hummed lightly, bouncing her up and down in your arms while patting her back lightly. So focused you were in your task, the undecipherable look in Johnny’s eyes went unnoticed.
“How have you been?,” Johnny spoke, his low voice still so unfamiliar to your ears.
Your head snapped up toward his, him now towering over you when you had once been his height. His black hair lay across his eyes, his amber eyes intensely focused at you.
“I’ve been alright. Good,” you mumbled.
Another lengthy period of silence stretched between you.
“...I heard you were snatched up by J.P. Morgan when you graduated. That’s a good company,” Johnny said.
“Yeah, I’m now a private manager there. They’ve— the company—has been very good to me over these years,” you smiled slightly. It was true, the company had treated you well and given you a career, but you were still so...lonely.
“You look like you’re doing well for yourself.”
“....yes.” Silence. “You too— you look like you’re doing well.”
“I’d like to think so. I-, uhm, I’m the CEO of an online banking company— Banksy, have you heard of it?”
You were embarrassed to admit you gaped at him for a solid minute. Banksy? It was one of the trendiest e-businesses that had grown exponentially when the tech boom hit the market. The small start-up crested the wave until it had become a blue-chip name on the stock exchange. You even had an account with them!
“I-I have. I even have an account with them— you. Wow, Johnny, congratulations, that’s honestly amazing,” you smiled brightly at him, really and truly proud of your high school best friend doing so well for himself— no matter how cold he was to you.
A reluctant smile crawled over his plump lips, and you realize how much you had missed him. Yes, he was your best friend in every sense the word meant. He had been there and celebrated when you made it onto the softball team, offered you his hoodie when your period had come out of nowhere, even been there when you had gotten into an accident, senior year.
He had gotten there first. Not the police, not your parents— him, in his stupid Naruto pajamas, pulling up in his shitty 2001 Honda Accord and bawling his eyes out.
You hadn’t realized how much you relied upon him until you moved to college in another state, totally lost and confused without your best friend. Regret had always been an emotion associated with his name. You wished you had kept in contact with him, and even more so regretted you hadn’t ever truly revealed your...
“Thank you, Y/N.”
He opened up his mouth to say something, then immediately opened it again, but then paused. He looked like he was having a conflict within himself, but he shook his head and stared directly at you.
“Y/N, I’m sorry I couldn’t really talk to you that day with met at the cafe. It was a bit… rude in hindsight.”
You blinked in shock, mouth slightly ajar as you stumbled on the path.
“O-Oh, that? Don’t worry about it— I get it, we’re all so busy nowadays,” you offered a weak smile.
“No, I’m in the wrong here. We were… we were best friends for years, I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”
His brows furrowed, you notice how much he has matured. Not just in his looks and the way he presented himself, it was the way he treated you. Don’t get it wrong (he was a sweetheart during high school), but he seemed more sure of himself, more able to take responsibility and address conflict. He had always had kind of avoided confrontation, the one part you hated of him you hated during high school, and would always just kind of awkwardly wait for any conflict to pass by and ignore it. He was so much Johnny, but so much less.
“Hey, it’s alright. We were both just not used to each other, y’know? You were probably stressed out at the time and took it out on me. There’s no need to get in a tizzy over that.”
“It’s just I haven’t seen you in years and I treated you like that—”
“Youngho.”
His Korean name sort of forced itself out of your mouth, hiding in the back of your throat all these years and finally popping back up when the man himself did. No one really knew of his other name other than his sweet mother and you, since your white-ass town would’ve butchered it until the point of disfiguration. Hearing you say it had always calmed him down.
“...fine,” he pouted. Maybe, just maybe, you saw bits of the old Johnny peek through the new mask, new body of his. “Man, I just feel terrible about it, though. It hasn’t left my mind in days.”
“Why don’t you make it up to me by getting a coffee with me sometime? I.. I’d love to catch up, Johnny. I’d really, really like to.”
His dark eyes met yours and yours widened.
“I’d love to.”
By the time your unlikely trio reached the PTA moms plus Cynthia, it was already late afternoon. The sun had turned golden, the kids were getting tired, and the music from your town’s main street could be faintly heard.
“Y/N? Y/N?! Have you seen—” Cynthia called out frantically, waving her cell phone around but paused when she saw her child in your arms.
“Oh my god, Callie! Sweetheart!”
She sprinted across the sidewalk to immediately take the sleepy child from your tired arms. You could see the sunlight glint off her sweaty face, her unkempt hair frizzing out of her bun while she rocked Callie in her arms.
A slight grin graced your face as you tilted your head and took in the sweet mother-daughter moment. Unbeknownst to you, the man beside you had the same expression on as well, his hands itching to pull you closer.
“Cynthia? Sweetheart, did you find Callie?” someone shouted from the side.
A flock of moms headed towards your general direction, all carrying their kids with them and hoisting their heavy bags. As soon as they reached you, their eyes had wandered from Cynthia and zoomed in on the delectable piece of man next to you. You remembered how he looked with his toned and veiny arms on display in his loose tank, how good he looked with his hair windblown and disheveled and you inwardly smacked your head. He was basically bait for middle-aged women.
“Y/N, who is this? Would you care to introduce us?” the woman you thought was Kendall cocked out her hip, her eyes still fixated on Johnny.
“This is—”
“Am I late to the party? Well, thank god we found Ca— oh, who is this?”
Everyone’s favorite girl Victoria sauntered into your midst, her rambunctious kids following behind her.
You gave a tight smile. “Ladies, do you remember Johnny Suh from high school? This is him.”
The women present smiled brightly but did not seem to remember his name.
“I’m so sorry, I can’t seem to recall you from back then,” Victoria smiled apologetically. Your eyes zoomed in on the subtle movements she displayed— the slight stroking of her bare arms, the hooded lids— and you rolled your eyes.
“Hold on, weren’t you a trumpet in marching band? Vice president of the Anime Club?” Anne popped out, the glint of recognition in her eyes,
Johnny chuckles and shifted his weight. “Yeah, that was me,” he said, with a sort of secretive smile on his lips.
You watched with smug satisfaction as the ladies’ eyes collectively widened in disbelief, Victoria even going stiff for a moment before recovering. The boy they had excluded, used, looked down on, had grown into this man next to you.
“W-well, I’ll be! You’ve changed so much from back then,” Kendall (still unsure who the hell she is) grinned.
“You could say that,” Johnny smirked before pushing his hair out of his face, everyone’s eyes following his toned arms flexing.
Karma is so sweet.
“Y/N, mom threatened to decapitate me if I didn’t invite you to dinner. Could you come over?”
Always the momma’s boy.
“You want to save this sexy face, right?”
There he was. That was the Johnny you knew.
“Mm, I don’t know. You could use a little ego beat down,” you laughed, bending down to open your suitcase.
“Don’t lie, love, you find me attractive,” he breathed, his voice rough. You bit your lip at the noise, gripping your shirt tight enough to create wrinkles.
A beat of silence passed before you moved to speak. “Dress code, Johnny?”
He snorted. “You could show up in pajamas and mom and dad would still be glad to see you.”
“Even in those silly Naruto pajamas you wore?” you teased.
“Hey! They were not silly-”
“- sure, anime club VP-”
“- and shut up, you stole them anyways.”
You sighed, remembering the orange pajama top stuffed in the back of a cabinet. “I mean, I could just show up naked if you’re not going to give me some kind of dress code.”
A muffled grunt met your ears as it sounded like he quickly moved the phone away from his mouth and your eyes widened.
“Ugh, sorry about that I...dropped something. But fine, woman, dressy casual. Mom just came back from church and she wants to see dad and I look at least somewhat presentable.”
“How is your mom, by the way? The church?”
“Both doing fine. Mom is running the back to school drive again. Remember Mark Lee? That kid in our youth group? He’s actually the Faith Formation leader now.”
“Markie? Oh my god, I missed him!” you smiled widely as you remembered the hyper boy 4 years younger than you, who was too kind and too pure for his own good.
“I’m starting to feel offended, what about me?”
“No, ‘cause he’s cute and you’re not, Johnny.”
“That right, ‘cause I’m sexy.”
“Oh my god.”
You both burst out laughing, the moment feeling so right it warmed your chest. You laid your floral dress on your bed and flopped down next to it.
“Well, if you’re done inflating your ego, I gotta get ready. Bye bye.”
“Bye, love.”
You sighed for the umpteenth time today and your eyes were drawn around your room. Colorful pictures, awards, and random stuff covered the walls and surfaces of your room. It looked so lived in, so alive and loved it hurt to think about going back home to your starkly empty bedroom.
To be honest, you had no idea what happened. Cynthia liked to call you the ultimate girl next door, and while you vehemently protested it at the time, now you couldn’t help but feel she was right. Back then you thought you were antisocial as hell, but as opposed to the present, you were the life of the party. Clubs, church group, Johnny— you were so bright and bubbly back then, so many people surrounding you in your small hometown.
Now, as opposed to then, you lived life like clockwork. It wasn’t surprising, since after college you threw yourself into studying to be successful, forgetting everything and everyone that made you feel alive. Now, it was robotic, tiring, and lonely.
The picture at the very center of your room caught your attention. It was a lovely one, set during the late afternoon at your town’s park. You and Johnny stood close together, arm in arm, smiling brightly at the camera dressed to the nines.
Prom.
Picking up the frame, you brushed a reverent hand across the picture of the two of you. You both had no one to go with, and decided to go together since everyone else you knew paired off. You remember him awkwardly sliding the white corsage onto your wrist, you having to tip-toe to pin his to the lapel of his blazer. In hindsight, Johnny in senior year was starting to look like the Johnny of today.
That night was so fun. Dancing ‘til you had to take off your heels, Johnny pretending to spike the punch, stuffing your face with the fancy sandwiches provided— the classical prom experience.
The highlight was when Johnny pulled you into dancing the last song of the night. The pair of you couldn’t look each other in the eye as you slowly swayed to the music, breaths hitching at the slight distance between each other. But at the end, when you two finally caught each other’s gazes, was exhilarating. He opened his mouth, his eyes shifting back and forth in nervousness.
You thought he was going to confess.
Instead, he seemed to stop himself and smiled weakly at you. That moment of what could have been, what you could’ve done, haunted you forever until you threw yourself into studying.
What would’ve happened if you had spoken up?
“Y/N-ah!!! My love, come here!”
Heat diffused into your cheeks as you crossed the yard to the tiny woman under the patio bouncing with energy.
You struggled not to run and leap into Mrs. Suh’s arms while carrying a small roll cake from Tous Les Jours. But when you saw her wide smile and eyes folded up like crescents in happiness, you dropped your stuff on the ground and ran into her arms.
“Hi Auntie!” you murmured into her shoulder as you embraced her, tears coming into your eyes as you settled into her warm embrace.
“Oh, Y/N! I haven’t seen you for 10 years, don’t cry!” Mrs. Suh laughed as she held you at arm's length, eyes roving over your face. She wiped a tear off your cheek with her thumb and patted your neck.
“You’ve always been pretty, but now you’ve grown to be so beautiful.” She pinched your arm. “But why aren’t you eating more? Come, auntie will get you some good food.”
“I brought a roll cake, Auntie. I hope you like it,” you said, wiping tears off your face as she led you down the hall.
“Thank you, sweetheart. 여보 (Husband)! Y/N is here! Come out, come out!” she yelled down into the home office.
“Eh? Y/N?” Mr. Suh’s thin voice echoed from the office as a new wave of tears threatened to rise up.
Mr. Suh, a bit older and thinner than when you last saw him, opened the door to his office and a wide smile lit up his face.
“Give your uncle a hug!”
As you gave your best friend’s dad a hug, more tears spilled onto your cheeks. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry!” Mrs. Suh said as she grabbed you into a side-hug, wiping off your tears.
“I just missed you guys so much,” you blubbered, struggling to compose yourself. Tears started to come to Mrs. Suh’s eyes and Mr. Suh laughed. These two had been more than your best friend’s parents, they had raised both of you through thick and thin. You were closer to them than most of your family when you were in high school, and they had never failed to welcome you into their home with open arms.
“Y/N, my wife has been missing her church helper. Bake sales don’t make themselves and she’s getting so old these days, you know?” he said, teasing his wife.
She released you as she slapped his arm. “Yah! You know what, you can set up the table by yourself.. Go!”
You smiled at the utter love and admiration in their eyes as they teased each other. You had always hoped that one day, you could stare into your significant other’s eyes with an ounce of the love they have.
“Ah, Johnny’s probably still fussing with his hair upstairs. He’s missed you so much these days,” she smiled up at you.
“Moooommmm,” Johnny whined, coming down the stairs. “내 비밀 드러내지 마세요! (Don’t reveal my secrets)!”
“What? It’s true, John-ah,” she smiled at him she hugged his torso.
He turned to you, and you looked down, blushing. Johnny looked extra good today, in a casual Oxford and jeans combo that emphasized his proportions.
“Hi there,” he said, leaning on the railing. He gave you a discreet wink from above his mother’s head and affixed an intense stare on your person, his eyes roving up and down your body.
“H-Hey John,” you mumbled, your body curling on itself from his gaze.
“Well, I’m going to leave you two kids alone before my husband breaks something,” she said with a mysterious sparkle in her eye. As if on cue, silverware clattered onto a plate. “Oh dear,” she muttered as she sped down to the kitchen.
The two of you were left in silence.
“You look great today, Y/N.” Johnny smirking as he tilted his head towards you. Where did this confident Johnny come from?
“You too. Since when did you learn such good Korean?” you grinned, trying to lighten the mood. To be fair, Johnny only knew really basic phrases in high school and you were surprised to see unaccented Korean flow fluently from his mouth.
“Oh, I was kinda dropped into the Korea and told to swim, ha.”
“Cool.”
Another awkward silence.
“I missed you a lot, Johnny,” you whispered, foot tracing patterns into the floor.
“Me too, Y/N. I… I missed my best friend.”
You bit your lip as you opened your arms for him and he quickly wrapped his arms around your torso. Even with you standing on your toes, with his tall height he had to bend down slightly. So familiar, yet so different. Breathing in the scent of cologne and the clean linen of his shirt, you hoped he would not hear the pounding of your heart through the thin fabric of your dress.
The two of you stood there in the hallway, basking in the warmth of each other’s bodies until the noise of an iPhone shutter sounded.
Johnny lifted his head from your hair and you looked to see Mrs. Suh standing in the doorway, grinning at the screen of her iPhone which was directed at you.
“엄마 (Mom)!” he groaned, not letting go of you yet.
“I wanted to capture my two loves together, okay? Now give Y/N a pair of slippers, please,” she said, bustling off the kitchen once again.
You let go of him slowly, leaning back down onto the floor.
“You know, you look so different Johnny. I didn’t recognize you at first,” you said quietly, raising a hand to caress his jaw.
“I’ve changed a lot,” he responded, equally as soft. A grin split his face as he grabbed your hand. “You can ogle me later, let’s go before mom smacks me for not helping.”
His hand wrapped around your smaller one as he led you to the dining room table. You tried to go to the kitchen and help but used his grip to force you into a seat, citing you were a guest. You weren’t sure if he did it intentionally, but his hand stroked your arm as he let go of your hand to help in the kitchen, a caress so soft it sent shivers down your spine.
When dinner was served and everyone sat down, you could not resist hungrily scooping large portions of Mrs. Suh’s homemade kimchi-jjigae and Mr. Suh’s galbi onto your plate.
“Eat up, eat up, my love. I cooked your favorites.” Mrs. Suh smiled beside you.
You savored in the taste of her cooking as conversation languidly started, regular family chat you remembered from your many dinners here in high school. As you uncrossed your legs, you accidentally kicked Johnny’s long legs under the table. I’m so sorry, you mouthed silently. Turning back to Mrs. Suh, you couldn’t see the devious smirk crawl upon his plump lips.
You found out Mr. and Mrs. Suh were now fully retired. Mr. Suh spent his days at the Korean Golf Association, playing there and running the tournaments they hosted. Mrs. Suh was now fully committed to the church, taking on a busy schedule of events that was getting hard to manage.
Mrs. Suh was complaining about the new church moms when you quietly asked Johnny to pass the radish over, and he complied. Instead of just handing you the dish, he forked over some slices and dipped them in vinegar, just the way you like it. You grinned at him and he leaned over, then his leg brushed the smooth skin of your bare calves. Your eyes widened.
“...you would not believe how many mothers tried to get me to introduce their daughters to John-ah after I showed them a photo…”
You almost choked as his pant clad leg inserted itself between yours, the fabric of his pants tickling various spots on your legs causing every sense to be heightened. Feeling the goosebumps on your arms, you turned an accusing gaze to him but he looked nonplussed, eating his cabbage.
“...but I’ve met them already, and they’re not for Johnny, you know? They never liked Johnny in high school, so why should…”
You frantically grabbed for a glass of water as his knee brushed the inside of your thigh. A small whine left your lips as your pussy tightened, gripping the glass very tight. A drop of moisture collected in your panties, and quickly created a pool as his legs trapped yours.
“... Oh I love Mark-ah and Hyerim, but you were so good with the kids, Y/N-ah!...”
You let a curtain of hair cover your face to hide your reddening expression, breasts heaving as your breathing start to pick up. When his knee started move along the inside of your thigh, your teeth dug into your bottom lip hard enough to bleed, your remaining hand bunching up in your dress. You could see a small smirk form on Johnny’s face while he was eating and you scowled in his direction, squirming from the added moisture in your panties.
“...kids, Y/N-ah?”
You were shaken out of your daze when Mr. and Mrs. Suh looked expectantly at you.
“Sorry, auntie?”
“Do you have a husband? Or wife? How about kids— you are a born mother!”
Johnny’s foot slid to meet your ankle, forcing you to swallow hard. You hoped like hell your nipples wouldn’t peak through your dress. You already knew there was no saving your panties, shifting so your arousal wouldn’t stain your dress or the chair beneath you. You laughed awkwardly. “Ah, no, not quite. My job keeps me traveling around so much and I haven’t had time to start a family.”
“You still want one?”
Images of kids with hair like yours running around sunlit fields, a big house and a big belly, swollen with your baby flashed quickly in your head. Your smile turned sad.
“I’d love nothing more than one.”
Mrs. Suh smiled proudly, and turned to Johnny to nag him about her lack of grandkids or a daughter in law. Johnny had stopped playing footsie with you and was trying to avoid his mom’s hands grabbing at his face, but your breath still ran ragged when something occurred to you about your vision.
Those kids had the same eyes as Johnny.
(So caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Mr. Suh nudge Johnny in the arm, silently telling him to “hurry up”.)
“Y/N, I ban you from the kitchen! You are the guest,” Mrs. Suh stressed, waving you out of the question with a soapy glove.
“Absolutely not. I want to help you clean. Besides, you’re getting old, y’know?” you ribbed, pulling back your hair and grabbing a clean towel. As soon as dinner ended, you bolted out of the room into the kitchen, ignoring the stickiness between your legs.
“Aigoo! Fine, fine,” she relented, rinsing a dirty bowl.
Toweling off the glasses Mrs. Suh had recently cleaned, your gaze had wandered to Johnny’s tall figure in the dining room. As he moved about, Johnny seemed so much more comfortable in his lanky limbs, no longer the awkward kid you knew. His actions were done with surety of someone who knew of his own self-worth, sure of his abilities and flaws. Regret washed over you, mixed in with pride. You were so, so proud of the man you see before your eyes, but you desperately wished you could have been part of it.
Mrs. Suh watched you with a secret smile as your toweling slowed down.
“I know I said it before, but Johnny really missed you.”
“Huh?” you asked dumbly, taken out of your stupor.
“During the first few years after high school, I was so sure Johnny was going to break down. You two had become so busy and slowly lost contact— he didn’t know how to function without you! John-ah was like a blind man, stumbling around, aimless. But one day... it somehow all changed.”
“How?” you asked quietly.
“I found him in his room one day, one of the times he came back home. He was reading some of the Post-It notes he would randomly stick around his room, and it looked faded. I couldn’t see it, of course, but I saw John-ah slip into his pocket. The night I saw him, his eyes were bright, his shoulders, determined. His company took off right after he visited.”
Mrs. Suh stopped cleaning as she gazed at her boy, a small smile playing at her lips.
“I’m so proud of the man he has become. Yet… yet he’s told me he doesn’t feel satisfied, you know? Like there’s something empty in his chest. Like he’s looking for something but he doesn’t know what.”
Your breath caught in your throat and your heartbeat started to pound in your ears. How… how could it be so similar? How could he feel the exact same as what you do?
“Personally, I...I think he needs a family. He wants a girl he can love, and, dear god, you don’t know how much he wants kids.”
If you bit any harder, your lip would bleed onto your pretty dress.
“John-ah… you don’t see the look in his eyes when we pass by a child. He just completely stops listening to the conversation, and it’s like he can’t look away. He told me about your friend’s daughter— Callie, yes?— and then he finally realized how much he wanted kids. So, so much.”
A fine tremor wracked your hand as you put away the plates, lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t as if you were shocked, oh no. It was more the fact that you could finally see it: you and Johnny, looking into each other’s eyes, in each other’s loving embrace as your children with your hair and his eyes slept in the crib in front of you.
Distractedly, you toweled the rest of the dishes and kissed her cheek as you shuffled off to the living room.
“Y/N, dear,” she called out after you.
“Yes, Auntie?”
Her eyes suddenly seemed so old.
“You don’t know how scared he was when he thought Callie was yours.”
As promised, the next day Johnny took you out to the best coffee place in your hometown. Broken Egg Cafe was a small place squeezed in between a boutique and an alcohol store on main street, and it was as shabby as it looked on its facade. Mix and match furniture dotted the rustic food place, dim lighting providing an ambient atmosphere. The cafe was the usual haunt of the local community college kids who liked the hipster atmosphere and comfy spots. That, and it was the place where everyone knew that if you went on a date, you were seriously committed to each other.
Trying not to dwell on it, you sat patiently while scrolling through your phone. A grin lit up your face as you saw the series of photos Mrs. Suh had posted on Facebook, all of the Suh family dinner you partook in. You clicked the heart and saved all the photos, and, embarrassingly, the one where Johnny had led you to the table. You were grinning at each other, his hand resting on your shoulder, as Mr. Suh was reached for something out of frame. Quickly, a few taps had replaced the generic background of your phone with the picture.
Funnily enough, all the photos posted had included you in it. Call yourself crazy, but you expected Mrs. Suh to post a few of her and her husband, or her and her son— but no. You could even see the ones where visible sweat gleaned from your brow, shakily smiling after Johnny had played footsie under the table.
“Y/N!”
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. You gave him a quick glance over and, wow, he looked devilishly handsome today. An old Ramones shirt half-tucked into skinny jeans was an interesting contrast to his usual business attire, his ratty converse slapping on the wood beams as he strode towards you.
He evidently saw your glance-over as a shit-eating grin graced his lips, and you could only ignore the heat in your cheeks then bury your head into his chest.
“Hey sweet girl, how are you?” he whispered into your ear, your shoulders tensing as a breath of hot air hit your sensitive neck.
“Well, you?” you murmured near his neck.
“Great as you can be waiting for the reunion tonight,” he snickered.
A snort passed your lips as you flopped down onto the couch, tucking your feet under you and propping your head on your palm. His lanky figure settled into the couch, limbs comfortably positioned to face you.
“I ordered your ridiculous drink, you know. Grande Chai Tea Latte, 3 Pumps, Skim Milk, Lite Water—”
“—no foam, extra hot?” you asked disbelievingly.
“Yes, your frou-frou white girl drink that’ll cause cavities,” he grumbled.
“I could kiss you, you know that?” you blurted, eyes glued to the server bringing you your drink.
He murmured something as you said your thanks to the server, grasping the cup with 2 hands.
“Huh?”
“Nothing, nothing.”
You rolled your eyes and knocked your knee against his. “Didn’t Auntie tell you to stop doing that?”
Soon, a light hearted conversation reminiscing about the past started up. You could both of you slip back into that easy rhythm that was your dynamic back in high school, joking and ranting to each other. You laughed about everything from the time he took up skateboarding and briefly became emo, the antics the band kids had gotten up to, and even your horrible experience with AP Calculus.
“And, oh my god, remember what Jake did at senior prom? I can’t believe he wasn’t expelled,” you said, eyes wide.
“Jake? My lord and savior, Jake?” Johnny asked, his grin widening. “Man, that was my bro. Swag brothers forever.”
“Johnny, he put smuggled in a chicken. To this day I don’t how he did that!”
“Secret.” He put a finger over his lips. “But, I will tell you I had to distract to Prom Committee by B-Boying.”
You shook your head, hiding a smile. “Prom was so fun, wasn’t it? The theme was great that year, they ordered great food—”
“—You went with me, duh—”
“—and I didn’t trip over my dress! You were an okay date for prom.”
Johnny gasped loudly, and laid a hand over his hard, clearly offended. “Excuse me? I clearly remember you made me trip during the last dance! Here I was, being a great date, leading us through the dance, and you placed a wrong foot forward. You!”
You scoffed, crossing your arms. “That was only because you–” you pressed a finger into his hard chest “–were too close.”
“Can you blame me?” he breathed.
It was in that moment you realized how close you were to him. Somehow, throughout the course of the conversation, you both had scooted closer to each other on the couch and ended up with both your legs tangled together.
“W-what are you talking about, Youngho?”
He sighed, his hands unconsciously seeking out yours. “Y/N, can I be honest?”
“Of course you can, you can always be with me,” you reassured, still confused as hell.
A soft smile came to his face. “I... the day at the cafe. I was never in town to meet with my old investor. I came here, back to town and this reunion, in hopes of seeing my beautiful best friend.”
“I–”
“Hold on, let me… let me tell you what’s been on my mind.”
His thumb started stroking hands, your mind briefly registering the large difference in size before freaking out at how close he was to you.
“In high school, you were my only good friend. My pillar, my rock, the only one who held my hand before I became...me. From freshman to senior year, you enchanted me and I could only helplessly fall into you, like a singularity Mrs. Kee harped on about in Physics,” he chuckled.
“Sometimes, I would look at you and think, why me? You could have befriended every other boy, but no. It was me. Even when everyone made fun of me and rejected me, it was always me. And god, prom.”
“I was so damn close to telling you how I felt that night, dancing with you for the last song. I mentally prepared myself and everything, I needed to tell you before we graduated, and I opened my mouth and then it hit me: you deserve someone so much better. You had your whole life in front of you, and why should dorky ol’ me hold you back? I didn’t tell you, and I...I don’t regret it.”
Pain rippled over his face then he composed himself, his stare burning into yours.
“I was so lost without you for years. How could I be with you when I didn’t even know where I was going? But that one day… I decided I was going to find myself. Moved to Korea, started a company… you know the rest. I became the best I could be.”
Tears started to well up at the edges of your eyes, and as your lips quivered you brought a soft hand to cheek. You didn’t know his insecurity ran that deep; you thought those little self-deprecating jokes were just that–jokes. What kind of best friend were you that you let him think so badly of himself, from high school and the years that followed?
He leaned into your touch, and the tension evaporated from his broad shoulders.
“10 years later, and I think that maybe, maybe I’m good enough for myself– good enough for you. So I sign myself up for this stupid little reunion, fly back home, yet in that little cafe I was so unprepared to see you.”
His lips brushed over your palm, like the brush of silk, and then he leaned back.
“When I saw you that day, it felt like a dream. I wasn’t sure if I was seeing you for real and when I knew, I was so fucking happy. And, like a cruel imitation of prom, something held me back.”
“I didn’t realize that maybe you moved on without me, maybe you had a family and a new best friend. I felt so stupid at the time, seeing you look so beautiful, thinking I could just waltz back in we could pick up where we left off. It’s no excuse, but it’s why I lied and was a complete asshole towards you. I was so disappointed in myself.”
You couldn’t hear anything around you, see anything around you, and was engulfed by the vision of your best friend looking at you like a prayer.
“What do you feel now, Youngho?” you whispered.
“I will always see you as my everything.”
His lips brushed against your forehead and he walked out before you could process anything.
“Thanks!” Cynthia calls out as she exits the Uber Black XL. You give a wan smile to the driver as you carefully step out onto the pavement.
The golden sign of the Langham shone bright against the rapidly darkening Chicago skyline, reflecting off the mirror-like glass. Perhaps it was the fact that you were a New Yorker, or the fact you were shivering and it wasn’t because of the cold, but you could not concentrate on the sight at all.
“Isn’t this place gorgeous? The girls and I worked hard to get a banquet hall here, like, hard. Who cares about the thirty minute drive when you can get a place like this?” your friend calls out excitedly, sweeping an arm to emphasize to view.
“You did well for yourselves this time. I bet the committee for the class before ours is steaming,” you shakily joked. Well, not quite. As said before, school reunions were huge for your school, each class trying to outdo each other at every turn, from the venue to the catering and more. Your class must be feeling quite proud right now.
“I bet this is so-so for you, city girl,” she ribbed. A yelp escaped your lips, accusingly looking towards her as you rubbed the spot where she elbowed you. “Oh shut up, PTA mom.”
No matter how much you liked to tease her, Cynthia looked the opposite of a PTA mom tonight. Her cocktail attire hugged her post-pregnancy curves, but, looking at her now, she looked like a mix of her youthful party persona with worldly maturity. She definitely would be turning a few heads tonight.
“C’mon, city girl, let’s go. I need to see if everything is perfect!”
Your 10-year high school reunion was held in a ballroom 2 stories above the street, sumptuous in its decoration and looking more like a corporate dinner than anything else. Dozens of circular tables dotted the floor of the room, each set in the green and gold of your high school colors. A particularly large “Go Spartans! Class of 2XXX” sign was posted right outside the door, attracting people to sign their names onto the banner with a flourish. While you and Cynthia were on time, many people had shown up and milled about the room.
“Oh my god, there’s our val! Let’s see if she’s something cool or just peaked in high school,” Cynthia whispered conspiratorially, dragging your unsure figure towards the crowd.
You tried your best to greet everybody in the large ballroom, but a certain man was still lingering at the forefront of your mind. Every few seconds, you would catch yourself glancing around nervously, especially towards the large double doors that heralded anyone’s arrival. Eventually, when you caught yourself gravitating closer to the entrance, you knew you were being ridiculous.
An expensive-sounding roar sounded outside the building, and a collective head turn had the crowd’s eyes riveted on a white car in the valet lane of the hotel. You didn’t know much about cars, but even looking at it 2 stories up, it looked like something out of a movie. Male murmurs of appreciation were heard as the butterfly doors of the car opened up, even bystanders stopping and staring. You felt a sinking feeling at the bottom of your stomach as a good-looking man in a grey suit stepped out, his black wavy hair visible from a distance.
God, how were you even supposed to talk to Johnny? Somehow, telling him “I’ve secretly pined over you for years and would like to have your babies” didn’t quite do it for you.
“Y/N? Oh my gosh!”
Not this shit again.
Repressing an oncoming headache, you plastered your best fake smile that you put on especially for disagreeable clients and turned towards the snooty, entitled voice that was so familiar.
“Victoria! Wonderful to see you again,” you simpered. Goodness, you could see her fake tan glowing radioactively in the dim light.
“Oh, come here! It’s great to see you here, don’t you look just fab.” Victoria threw her arms out, as if you two were the best of friends, and you stepped into a polite embrace. Granted, now you could see her typical Brooks Brother dress was well-fitted, but screamed “country-club mom!” in your face.
“You’ve got to meet my husband. James, come here!”
A well-built man in a tailored navy suit lumbered towards her, two champagne flutes in his hands. Gazing at his chiseled features and neat blond hair, you could admit Victoria had caught quite the catch.
“Victoria,” he murmured, handing a glass to her. He caught sight of you, his eyes roving predatorily over your body that made you shiver in a not-so-nice way.
“Sweetheart, would you care to introduce me to your friend?” he said, not taking his eyes off of you.
She clearly noticed the way he was speaking to you, her lined eyes narrowing and her lips curling into a snarl.
“Husband, this is Y/N, an acquaintance of mine. We didn’t hang out with the same crowd, she preferred those geeky types,” Victoria emphasized, making it clear that you were undesirable.
He hummed while still looking at your legs and you could spot the signs of a dysfunctional marriage right away. You saw it in the men you worked with, obviously bored with a taste for female coworkers, even though his wedding band shone bright on his left hand. You sort of felt bad for her, no matter how much of a bitch she was to you.
“Anyways, I saw you were looking for someone. Did you bring any hot hubby?” she giggled a bit too brightly.
You smiled tightly. She was clearly trying to humiliate you, but once her dear husband found out you were single, you wouldn’t be surprised if you found yourself cornered in a hallway. “Not today, Vicky,” you said, knowing it would irritate the hell out of her. Victoria hated the nickname ‘Vicky’, claiming it sounded too country-bumpkin for her tastes.
“That’s right! You’re single, with your fancy office job and all–”
“Y/N, I was looking for you.”
It felt like your senses were on superdrive, hyper-alert of the man standing behind you.
You really weren’t prepared for this. You really, really weren’t. You hadn’t had any time to mentally or emotionally prepare for when you spoke to Johnny the next time you saw him, cowardly languishing in a pool of anxiety and insecurity.
Well, you were L/N Y/N. Hired straight out of college for J.P. Morgan. You were promoted and trusted because you could handle high pressure situations like this. So, you put on your big girl face and turned to see Johnny.
His smirking lips were the first thing you saw, and then his eyes, wolfish and sharp. Johnny was indeed the man in the grey suit with the fancy car, and you could see the way this particular get-up highlighted his lean figure.
“Johnny, hey,” you smiled softly, though you were sure there was a nervous lilt to your voice. Evidently, he caught on as his smirk widened and he stepped closer to you. The whiplash was real. One moment he was a lovestruck boy confessing to you in a coffee shop and the next he was a smooth-tongued man that made your knees weak.
“Johnny Suh? Mister Johnny Suh?”
The pair of you looked towards Victoria’s husband, whom looked awe-struck.
“Yes?” Johnny asked, eyes settling on the man in front of him.
There was no masculine size-up moment you’ve always seen in Wall street meetings, but James postured and simpered his way to Johnny.
“It’s great to meet you! I’m James Bouchard, a financial analyst. I worked with Banksy’s finance department before on the 2015 Orchard project.”
A charming smile made its way onto Johnny’s face, the perfect picture of a suave businessman. As great as it was looking at Johnny in his natural element, it was infinitely more amusing to watch the changing moods on Victoria’s countenance. Currently, she was stuck on shock as she learned more about the boy she shunned.
“Is Ms. Y/N your lovely wife? My wife just introduced me to her, you caught a great one,” he winked, trying to flatter Johnny’s ego.
Your best friend (crush? Classmate? Acquaintance?) merely chuckled and snaked an arm around your waist. He looked down at you with undisguised admiration, making you blush and look away. “I’d say she was the one that caught me, since we’ve been best friends since high school. Although, your wife didn’t quite seem to like me in high school. Pity.” Unable to resist, you looked sharply up at him. Since when were you his wife? Well, not that you’d protest, but these kinds of decisions require two consenting adults!
James looked down on his wife with malice in his eyes for potentially ruining a lucrative connection that she didn’t even know would exist. Victoria looked deeply embarrassed.
“Well, it was great seeing both of you! C’mon, James, dear, the food looks lovely,” she said brightly, beating out a hasty retreat with James angrily striding behind.
Sitting in silence for a few moments, you finally raised an eyebrow, a common signal that you used to ask him to ‘explain’. He opened his mouth, but a shout of his name had both of you turning towards the origin. Johnny rolled his eyes, and went to speak to you again but louder, greater shouts interrupted him.
“Look, baby, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated at the interruption.
“Go to your swag bros, Johnny. I think they miss you,” you said drily as they began clanging glasses.
“You’re the best,” he kissed your forehead hurriedly.
“Ooh-la-la, what was that about?” Cynthia sauntered up beside you, looking in the direction of the tall man.
“It was nothing, Cynthia.”
“Nothing? Johnny-with-the-great-biceps called you ‘baby’ and kissed you on the forehead, I don’t think that’s nothing.”
“Cynthia, I…” you bit your lip, discomfited.
Her eyes softened, seeing the deeply troubled set to your face.
“Let’s go to somewhere else.”
“—and now I don’t know what to do!”
Cynthia nodded mutely after hearing you explain the past days’ goings on, from the cafe to the walk and even to the dinner. She was uncharacteristically staying silent, soaking in the information as you recounted the tale.
She looked contemplative for a few moments, before her eyes sought yours. “You want to know what I think?”
“Aren’t you here for that?” you snapped.
She looked you dead in the eye. “You’re being an absolute idiot right now.”
You spluttered for a few seconds. “Uh- what? Hold on, Cynthia—”
“He’s deeply in love with you, and from what I’ve heard you sound like you feel the same. It’s that simple.”
“I-I—”
“Tell me right now, what would happen if he got married right now to someone that wasn’t you?”
“I would die before that would happen!” you snarled. Going back, you realized what you said and quickly deflated. “Well, I… I would be deeply devastated. God, Cynthia, from the time in school to now, I realized I love him. He’s my best friend, my pillar, my rock. He’s been there for me so many times I can’t even count it all.”
“And then it gets even worse knowing that he wants a family too. I don’t know if you know Cynthia, but I’m so lonely up in the big bright lights of New York. It’s gotten so bad that I’ve considered adopting and artificial insemination, even gone to an IVF clinic. But it won’t be the same, because I want a family and my belly round and my kids playing in the backyard, and it scares me that I can see it all with him.”
You sighed glumly. “I should’ve just confessed to him at prom.”
Cynthia smiled sympathetically. “Why don’t you just tell him what you told me?”
“She just did.”
You both started violently, and saw a large shadow blocking the doorway.
Johnny.
Your girl best friend snorted and quickly exited, patting Johnny’s back on her way out.
“Johnny! You scared the hell out of me!” you scolded, your hand on your rapidly rising chest.
A deep laugh rumbled from his chest as he took a seat next to you.
“Do you have something to tell me, baby?”
Heat rose to your cheeks. “Yes.”
“Go on, sweet cheeks. I won’t judge.”
However, his smug grin of a man knowing what’s about to come told you otherwise.
“Johnny!” you whined, flinging a throw pillow at him.
He ducked and snickered. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop.”
You settled down and hugged yourself. “This may not be as long as what you said in the coffee shop, but Johnny… I’ve loved you since freshman year. I’ve loved you in every year after that, even when we got separated for almost a decade. I didn’t realize what I was missing in my life was you, that my life wasn’t right without my best friend by my side. When I came back home I wasn’t expecting anything, but I think an unconscious part of me hoped to see you. Everything I said with Cynthia is true and I—stop staring at me!’’
“I can’t, you’re too beautiful,” he deadpanned, but you saw the mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
“Just kiss me you– you tub of lard!”
Johnny effortlessly pulled you into his lap to straddle, arms snaking around your hips as he placed his lips onto yours.
All the tension immediately evaporated from your body, as your limbs felt like liquid in his arms. His tongue swiped against the bottom of your lips, and you found a shred of will inside of you and playfully resisted. He squeezed your side, the sensitive bit right under your breasts, and your lips parted automatically as you moaned.
You felt shivers wherever he touched you, but felt it was unfair he was giving and not receiving. Your nails combed through his hair, found a section of hair, tugged sharply.
He growled into the kiss and you felt his hard erection through his dress pants, poking at your inner thigh.
“Still think I’m a tub of lard?” he whispered at the corner of your mouth, flexing his thick thighs underneath you and pulling you closer to his rock-hard chest.
“Mmph, no, Johnny.”
His smoky eyes looked into yours. “Also, don’t, Y/N.”
“...what?” you said confusedly as you calmed down. Did you do something wrong?
“Don’t try to have kids through those… those methods.”
“Do you mean IVF? Artificial insemination?”
A nod.
A frown pulled at your lips and you leaned back unconsciously. “Johnny, don’t you understand? I want my own children so badly I can barely think, okay? I never thought I’d want to have one a few years ago, but call it mother’s instincts— “
“When you have a child, it’s going to be mine. You’re gonna have one the proper way—by me throughly fucking a baby into your cunt,” he hissed through his teeth, right into your ear.
Goosebumps rose along your skin and you clenched his shoulders harder as he suckled kisses along the side of your neck. With some, he even added little presses of the tongue, making you clench your legs around his torso tighter.
“My baby likes dirty talk, doesn’t she? Just like she liked my little game of footsie,” he laughed, puffs of air blooming on your sensitive skin.
“Johnny,” you weakly reprimanded. You then noticed the hands that were clasped at your knees, rubbing the sweet spot underneath, and felt a moisture pool in your lacy thong.
“So, whaddya say? You say yes and I drive to my apartment and fuck you until your stomach swells with my children, or I do it regardless of where we are.”
You finally realize you are heavily making out in a side hallway where someone could see you easily. While the idea was tempting, if not a bit hot, you visualize your naked bodies writhing as he slides in and out of you—
“Yes, please, Johnny, please.”
The ride to his apartment was surprisingly comfortable. After hastily leaving the party, you two hopped into his butterfly sports car and roared down the avenue.
Don’t get it wrong, the sexual tension was there and as present as ever, but it wasn’t awkward in the slightest. You folded your legs up to the side and leaned towards him, his right hand softly stroking your knee while he zoomed down the streets of Chicago.
An elevator ride later, you were admiring the night Chicago skyline from Johnny’s bedroom window as he pressed kisses onto your shoulders.
“Youngho,” you sighed, leaning into him.
He hummed and nipped lightly at your neck.
“C’mon babe, undress for me.”
He sauntered back to the bed as you fumbled with the pins in your hair, shaking your hair loose of the tight up-do it had been in.
You looked back to see Johnny at the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide and leaning back with an arm.
“I haven’t done this in a long time, so I’m probably going to disappoint you,” you warned as you set down the pins with a clink.
“Indulge me. I’ve been fantasizing about this moment since Junior year,” he smirked lazily.
You cast a doubtful look towards him, but obliged nonetheless.
Starting with your jewelry, you unclasped your necklace, earrings, and watch and carefully set them on the counter. Your heels were kicked off to the side, and that was left was your dress. You breathed in deeply and released, methodically unbuttoning your dress until it fell with a soft whisper on the floor.
You looked through your curtain of hair to gauge his reaction and Johnny looked dazed, his eyes slightly glassy with his mouth slightly parted.
“Youngho?”
“C’mere.”
You was sure your gait resembled a newborn foal rather than some sultry vixen, but Johnny did not seem to care. He pulled you into his lap once again, but this time sideways.
His kisses trailed innocently at the top of your bra and you find yourself impatient. “I thought you were going to fuck my cunt?” you pronounced succinctly.
Johnny’s teeth bit harshly at the tops of your breasts, eliciting a harsh hiss from you. “Now you’ve done it, baby.”
You giggled as he practically threw you onto the bed, a male moan of appreciation slipping from his lips when he saw you splayed out for him. He ducked in to steal a kiss, supporting himself with his toned arms and you grasped the back of his head.
Johnny licked a long stripe on your clavicle as you gave a sharp tug on the knot of his tie. Removing the black tie, your fingers quickly got to work unbuttoning his shirt. He got on his knees to tug it off in one glorious motion, exposing his well-built chest to your hungry eyes.
It was surreal to see this Johnny kneeling before you, topless and licking his lips, and it was hard to find any trace of the boy in Naruto pajamas everywhere.
“Get up for me baby, scoot up a bit,” he urged.
As you obeyed, you took the chance to slip off your bra. Heat rose to stay permanently on your cheeks as you unclasped it and shrugged it off. You nipples quickly stiffened to the air and Johnny looked absolutely delighted.
Your eyes tracked him as he leaned forward and carefully weighed one in his large hands. His thumb brushed the soft underside of your breast and your shoulders quivered like a leaf in the wind.
“All for me to play with?” he said under his breath, looking entranced by the pliant flesh in his hands.
Getting between your legs, his tongue laved at the skin of your breasts, “accidental” licks getting you to squirm. Johnny’s plump lips continued their trail to your stomach and finally kissed the edges of your thong.
“May I?” he asked formally, raising his gleaming eyes to yours.
You nodded and his nimble fingers dragged your panties down, forcing you to brace your calves against his shoulders. He tossed them carefully to the vanity before lowering himself to eye level with your pussy.
“My pretty baby has such a pretty pussy, doesn’t she?” he cooed, thumbs rubbing the crux of your thighs.
Whining in agreement, you opened your legs wider for his perusal and looked away in embarrassment.
Johnny tsked and forced your chin to look at down at him. “Look at me.”
He wouldn’t let go until you leaned your head into his palm. He held eye contact with you as he slowly pressed his lips against your labia, your eyes widening and mewl escaping your lips.
You slammed your hand against your mouth as he began exploring, curling into the pillow and looking heavenward. His tongue peaked out and caressed the hood of your clit, beckoning for it to come. You muffled a scream when he used his tongue more liberally, reaching deeper and curling into the walls of your pussy. Your hips lifted off the mattress as you writhed underneath his torturous tongue until Johnny’s hands clamped down and forced your limbs onto the bed.
He was truly gifted at this, easily finding the spots that made you squirm. It felt like hours passed as he used his flexible tongue on you, playing you easily, and you slipped in and out of reality. But then he suckled, and you lost it.
Your limbs flailed as you wailed, suffocated with a blanket of pleasure. You had no idea what to do with your hands, switching places from tugging at your hair to squeezing your arms and even grasping Johnny’s thick locks until you settled for grasped the edges of the pillow next to you.
“No! Johnny, I- I can’t— oh my god—Agh!”
He shushed you quickly, murmuring “you can take it” against your thighs. You felt the pressure inside your stomach build, holding your breath as it inched closer and closer to that edge. Johnny finally pressed his thumb against your clit and you let out a full-throated scream, succumbing to the wave of pleasure dragging you under. Your knees knocked together painfully and you slid further down the mattress, pussy gushing out underneath you.
But no; he cruelly drew it out, kept on rubbing circles into your sensitive flesh until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and were unable to speak.
A few breathless moments passed and he broke the silence. “Not only are my oral skills great, but my oral skills are too” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes, before yelping as one of the aftershocks wracked your limbs.
Johnny merely chuckled before flipping you onto your stomach, face down on the mattress. Peeking over your shoulder, you glimpsed Johnny tugging off his pants and boxers until his hard erection stood proud, springing back and forth in the air. You gulped; it was a beautiful pink, veiny as hell, topped with a mushroom tip oozing out pre cum. Most importantly, it was huge —you had no idea he was packing that underneath his gym shorts— and looked to be the girth of your wrist.
“Johnny, i-is it gonna fit?” you stuttered nervously.
He smiled proudly at you, his hand stroking his cock up and down. “You have one tight pussy, love, but I’ve prepped you a lot and we’ll make it work. Don’t worry, okay?”
With that he forced your head against the sheets, taking away your vision completely. You felt extremely vulnerable with your butt raised high up in the air, but Johnny quickly grasped your hips and rubbed his cock against the seam of your pussy lips, lathering it in your cum.
“Tell me, baby, how much do you want this?”
“So much!” you murmured into the mattress.
He thrust his hips just a bit and his tip quickly slid in and out of you. “What was that?”
“Johnny, please! I want it so much!” you moaned into the mattress.
“Say it. I want to hear filth from your pretty lips,” he hissed, sounding impatient. He certainly felt impatient, his hands gripping your hips so hard they would surely bruise and his erection throbbing against your quim.
“I want you to fuck me raw with your huge cock! I want your cum leaking from my pussy—please, Johnny, please! Fuck me!” you cried.
“My dirty girl,” he purred. HIs lined his cock up with your entrance and slowly sank in, both of you groaning reactively. His dick stretched you and it toed the line between pain and pleasure but, nevertheless, you sunk your hips into his.
“Not— not too fast, Youngho. You’re really, really big,” you whimpered. He waited for a while before leisurely thrusting in and then picking up pace.
“Oh fuck, Youngho, just like that,” you moaned. He also let out strangled groans of pleasure, echoing in his large bedroom. Crude slaps of flesh against flesh reverberated in your ears, puncturing the sound of blood roaring in your veins. His testes smacked periodically against your clit and you could not stop the indecent noises coming from your mouth.
“Good?” he grunted, his sweaty black bangs sticking to his forehead as he thrust. You could imagine his chest gleaming with sweat from the city lights and the image made you wetter, if possible.
A particularly sharp thrust jolted your hips, and kept his hips flush against yours with his cock in you. “I said, good?”
“Fuck, I like it—it’s so good— and, oh my gosh, I love it, I love it, I love it—” you rambled incoherently.
He snorted and pulled out.
“Youngho, don’t stop—”
“Get on your back, baby. Let me see you.”
With great effort, you rolled over and your vision of him did no justice. He looked ethereal, gleaming in his sweat. Shadows played across his body as his muscles flexed and contracted and you were breathless.
“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, Y/N.”
A terrible mixture of excitement and arousal arose from you. The idea of him fucking you full of his come and looking down at your round belly was almost too much. You whined up at him, wiggling your hips.
He tsked in disapproval. “Nuh-uh, legs up, sweetheart. Missionary is the best way to get you pregnant.”
You truly were worried that your arousal would leak down your legs as you lifted your limbs up to his broad shoulders. He firmly grasped the sides of your stomach and pulled you closer to him.
As you were watching him with a sort of breathless excitement, he was glued to the sight of his cock sinking into your pussy, bewitched by the way your folds parted for his cock like the blooming of a flower. Johnny quickly put a hand over the lower half of your stomach, thrusting robustly upwards and while you screamed, he wore a shit-eating grin on his face.
“W-What is it, Johnny?” you breathed harshly.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned loudly as he thrust once more. “F-feel this, baby.”
He put your hand where his had previously been and thrust upwards. Your lips parted in wonder when you felt a small bulge form underneath your hand. His cock was that big?
“Holy—Agh!— shit,” you pant.
His eyes flared with lust as he rammed his cock in again, just to see that little bump appear, and did so again and again until you heard his fancy bed frame start to creak.
This position was by far the best, even if it was good ol’ missionary. The slight curve to his cock caused the head to press deliciously into the walls of your pussy, and you felt him much closer than ever before.
You could spot his thick, muscled thighs ripple with the effort he was putting into fucking you and gripped the sheets much harder. Noises of content, ‘yes’s’ and ‘fuck’s!’ spat out with increasing frequency, permeated the air thick of the scent of sex and sweat.
He slipped your legs off his shoulders and around his waist before supporting himself above you with his veiny forearms. “Homestretch, baby.”
You were cut off from snorting as you screamed, his cock ramming into your hips. In-and-out, the delicious stretch repeating over and over again until you felt a familiar haze spread over you.
“I’m going to stuff you full of cum, Y/N. I’m going to knock you up with the baby you so desperately want, right? A baby with my eyes and your hair?” he growled.
You heart skipped a beat. How did he know what you saw?
“Mmm! Yes, yes! I’ll be barefoot and pregnant for you!”
“Your pussy takes my cock so well, baby, so well, you don’t even know. Fuck, I’m just imagining my cum on your pretty pink pussy lips.”
He went in so deep, until you felt his balls pressing into your ass and the tip of his cock pressing into your womb.You felt so filled, physically and emotionally, as you basked in the man thrusting into you like a piston.
The same in-and-out of reality experience occurred and you found your eyes rolling back into your head, not registering anything else. You felt like you were sinking in molasses, pleasure and bliss cocooning you tight and secure. The familiar wave was starting to build up again.
You came back to your senses as his hand drifted in between you and hovered near the crux of your thighs. In concurrence with his solid thrusting, his thumb began harshly rubbing circles into your clit, zings of delight firing over your whole body.
“Cum, baby, I know you want to. I can feel your tight pussy fluttering all over my cock,” he grunted.
His cock hit your cervix and your hands made vicious marks against his back as you wailed loudly in pleasure. The wave had crested but Johnny had not stopped whatsoever. Your best friend was still in desperate search for his peak that he thrust even faster, overstimulating you so much you inadvertently thrashed to get away from him.
A choked cry left your lips as he ruthlessly pulled your hips back and inserted his cock again, this time slamming into you with a force caused loud creaks from the bed frame.
“You don’t get to stop until there’s a goddamn baby in you. God, I’m going to cum so fucking hard.”
“Fill me up, Johnny.” you goaded. “Make me yours forever. Put a fucking baby in my belly.”
“Shit!” he hissed out.
You felt the spurts of his come from the tip and you wrapped yourself around him tighter as he let out a strangled moan, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Biting the spot between your collarbone and your neck, Johnny added to the collection of red and purple you were sure was already there. He gave little staccato thrusts as you felt more and more cum fill up your pussy, until an obscene squelching sound was heard as he was moving in and out of you.
He panted for a few moments, kneeling back onto the bed and spreading your legs wide. You attempted to cover your seeping pussy but he brushed your hand aside and focused on the small stream of white leaking.
“You look gorgeous like that, Y/N. Tired and sated with my cum leaking out of you.”
You scooped up some of the excess and brought it to your lips, sucking his salty cum off of your fingers one by one. You raised an eyebrow.
He groaned and wrapped you into his side, as if asking the universe “What am I going to do with her?”. You smiled snuggled into his side, happy that you finally weren’t alone anymore.
“Johnny... I’m ovulating today. There is a huge, huge chance of me getting pregnant. D-do you really, really want to this baby? Do you really… do you really want a family? With me?” you whispered.
“Let me show you something.” He climbed out of bed, naked as the day he was born, and returned to the room a navy suit jacket when you saw him at the cafe. He pulled out one of the heart-shaped pink Post-It notes you gave to him ironically during sophomore year and handed it to you.
On the paper, it had a date and some scribbled words.
11/4/2XXX
I’m going to marry Y/N.
“I wrote that in 10th grade,” he murmured beside you. “I’m more confident in myself that I can owe up to those words. I feel like… like I’m worthy of you now.”
“Oh, Youngho,” you sighed, thumb stroking his plump lips. You kissed them and smiled up at the man who was your best friend, your lover—the man you wanted to marry and have kids with. How could you ever repay him for making you feel whole again? “I accept the you from then and the you now. Whatever you are and wherever you are, you are always worthy of love.”
Please don’t forget to like, comment and reblog! I would also really appreciate that if you liked my work enough, that you would consider supporting me by buying me a kofi at ko-fi.com/caiuscassiuss. Thank you so much for reading!
Summary: You have the best boyfriend you could’ve asked for. Things take an interesting turn as you befriend your new coworker, exploring the blurred lines between friendship and something more.
Kun was the first man that came into your life that cared enough to try to learn your love language. For that, you were forever grateful. He bought you flowers, just because. He admitted that he never bought a girl flowers for no reason. Before he met you, he thought things like flowers and chocolates were meant only for Valentine’s Day and birthdays. But he bought them for you on the first Valentine’s Day you spent together. He could see the glimmer in your eyes as you admired them and, because of that, he bought them for you when he felt like you needed it. So, he bought them for you when you were feeling stressed, before a Friday night date, and sent them to your office for no reason at all.
He’d do things like cook you dinner when you didn’t ask. He paid attention to the things you said, like if you were craving Chinese dishes. The next day, he’d been in the kitchen making your favorite noodle dish. And you’d smile wide, the sparkle in your eyes enough to light up the darkest of his days. He’d do small things to make your life easier, like run the water for your bath while you worked late or steam your clothes in the morning if you forgot the night before.
Kun liked to cater to you, perhaps more than you did for him. Despite that, he never complained about it and he assured you that it was fine when you asked about it. He’d said, “I do these things because I want to, because I love you.” Kun’s love languages were different from yours, you realized. He preferred quality time and physical touch, so as long as he at least had those things, he was happy. In contrast, you preferred acts of service but, like him, you also enjoyed quality time.
You were looking at your sleeping boyfriend with a smile. Your leg was wrapped around his and he had his arms wrapped around you. The two of you often slept like this, with your limbs entangled around each other until it got too hot in the middle of the night. You’d roll over on your side and he’d follow so that he could spoon you from behind. And sometimes, he’d be hard and it would turn you on. And then turning over in bed would lead to you getting under him, wrapping your legs around him as he gave you what you wanted. You smiled at the thought, not because you were horny but because the love you had was so beautiful, so pure. As you watched him sleep, you realized how lucky you were to have found a man like Kun Qian.
You buried your face in his arm and he stirred. He groaned, glancing over at the clock on the nightstand. “Why are you awake so early, baby? Let’s go back to sleep.”
“I can’t believe we have to leave each other in a couple hours… The weekend goes by too fast.”
“I know,” he said, “The weekend isn’t enough.”
“I can’t wait to move in together,” you said, smiling at the thought.
He pulled you closer and kissed you on your forehead. “Waking up to your face everyday would make me so happy.”
“I know,” you said, melting in his embrace.
You couldn’t imagine being with anyone except Kun. And being with him, you hit so many milestones already. You’d been together for two years now and you were ready to take the next step—moving in together. Soon, you wouldn’t have to alternate weekends, going from his apartment to yours. Soon, you’d be falling asleep and waking up together, making meals together, and heading out for work together everyday. And even if he had a business trip, you’d be at home to greet him upon his return. Still, this was a few months down the road, given that spring was in the air and summer was on its way. The decision was set for this winter.
It was perfect. Everything was perfect. He was perfect—a match made in heaven. But sometimes you wondered if things were too good to be true. Sometimes, you felt insecure. But you knew that it was your fear of abandonment speaking and that was something you had to overcome. Kun was a good man and you had no reason to think he would suddenly leave you. Always, he reassured you that you were perfect for him and that there was no way he could live without you. Despite your random feelings of doubt and worry, Kun held your heart in his hands and held it tightly. They say that actions speak louder than words and he’d proven to you, time and time again, that he had no intentions of letting you go so easily—not if he could help it.
He told you that he would marry you someday. And despite what you may have thought, he had no intention of going back on those words.
*
You sighed as you walked into your office that day. Staying in bed with your boyfriend would’ve been the better of the two options. The aroma of the cheap coffee the office manager ordered every week filled your nostrils, as you walked past the kitchen. In passing, you exchanged greetings with a couple of coworkers who were deeply immersed in a conversation that seemed to revolve around the latest celebrity scandal.
You placed your vanilla macchiato on your desk before you started setting up your desk for a long work day. Your coworker and friend, Hina, who seemed to have just come from the bathroom, greeted you as you sat down. “Morning, Y/N!”
You raised an eyebrow. In general, Hina was a pretty energetic person, but she seemed extra hyped up this morning. “Morning,” you replied. “Why do— no—how do you have so much energy on a Monday morning?”
“I’m excited because the new hire starts today. I dunno about you but I can’t take another second of trying to figure out how our campaigns are performing,” she complained. “I know there are a couple positions being filled but Chaerin could’ve at least left after one of them was filled.” She rolled her eyes and slammed her notebook closed.
“I would leave in a second if I got the offer she did. She’s making well over six figures now, can you believe it?”
She sighed. “I mean I get it but if someone asks me one more question I can’t answer,, I’m actually going to kill myself. I shouldn’t have said that I was eager to learn in the interview.”
“There’s been so much going on, I guess I forgot about someone new coming on.”
“He should be getting here soon.”
“He?”
“Yeah. The HR lady had his new hire paperwork on the desk when I went in there a few minutes ago looking for her.”
“So nosy,” you said, shaking your head before taking a sip of your coffee.
You looked up as you heard the light murmur of chatter coming toward your side of the office. You saw the HR Manager walking into her office with a handsome man walking behind her, looking around the office with big, curious eyes that darted from left to right.
“He’s good looking,” said Hina, nudging you with a wink.
You chuckled. “I thought Kevin was your office crush?”
“Hey, I can have two office crushes!”
A half hour passed and as you were getting into the groove of your workday, the Creative Director, David, walked over toward your desks with Taeyong behind him. “Meet Taeyong,” he said. “He’s our new analyst. He’s going to be trained by Valentina once she’s back from maternity leave in a couple weeks. Of course, we will all be working together closely as we use analytics to inform our decisions for our upcoming campaigns.”
You stood up, shaking his hand, after he greeted Hina. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m one of the marketing managers. If you need help with anything or have any questions, you can ask me. I know things can be a little overwhelming on the first day but if Valentina picked you while on maternity leave, I already know you’re the best of the best!”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, smiling brightly. “And thank you so much. I look forward to working with everyone.”
At that, David cleared his throat. “I have a meeting with a partner in a few minutes but, Y/N, could you get him set up and show him around the office? Hina, could you come with me? I want you to join this one, since you had some ideas from our brainstorm last week.”
“Um, sure,” you said, as your coworkers walked away from you, leaving you and Taeyong behind. You walked ahead, to the next row of desks across the aisle. “So this is going to be your desk while you’re here. You actually have a nice view on this side of the office.” You turned the monitor on to check if it was functional and checked that he had all of the cords he needed to set up.
Taeyong let out a lighthearted chuckle as he placed the laptop he’d been carrying on the desk. “I just can’t believe I have the newest MacBook. My last work computer was so slow and it would overheat anytime I opened Chrome.”
You laughed. “Sounds like a pain in the ass.”
“Definitely…”
“Did you go to school in Seoul?”
Taeyong shook his head. “No, I actually went to the University of Hong Kong. I ended up getting a scholarship.”
“Wow. That’s amazing. I wish I had the opportunity to study abroad. It seems like a great experience.”
“Yeah,” he said, “I’m definitely glad I left Korea for a while. It’s nice to experience new things, meet new people, you know, and get out of your comfort zone. Plus, I even learned a little Cantonese.”
You led Taeyong through the office, showing him where the product, sales, and tech teams all sat. You showed him the meeting rooms, some empty and others filled with two or three people getting their days started. You showed him the kitchen and how to use the coffee machine while you explained that there were bagels on Mondays and that you’d have half days on Fridays once summer commenced.
Taeyong looked around the office with curious eyes, excited to be a part of this company. He’d been so excited to hear back from this company after three rounds of stressful interviews. He’d heard of people struggling to get a job in the current economy. So, he was grateful to be in a company that seemed to have some good perks.
His last job treated him poorly. He’d spend hours, sometimes even outside working hours, working on reports. And then, the data wasn’t even used. He never received any recognition and barely received any feedback. The only feedback he ever got was when his work wasn’t what the higher ups wanted. If it was negative, he sure got feedback. But as for anything positive? There was rarely any feedback there. So, Taeyong gave his resume a much needed makeover and set his sights on a new job and a company that would at least value his work.
He got good vibes from this place so far, especially from you. He thought about what it’d been like when he came here for his very first interview. Honestly speaking, he remembered seeing you. He saw you while he was waiting for the hiring manager. You’d been walking past the blue armchair he was sitting in. You were with the coworker he met today, Hina. He noticed you right away, mostly because you had this loud laughter. It wasn’t obnoxious but it was the kind of laughter that was contagious, the kind of laughter where you had no choice but to laugh, too. But he noticed how wide your smile was and how happy you seemed and how long it’d been since he’d seen a woman smile like that.
You noticed him then, a worried expression plastered on your face. “Hi, are you here for an interview? Did someone help you already?”
“Yeah, they know I’m here. Thanks.”
“Do you want water or anything to drink?” you offered. “I know interviews can be a little stressful.”
Taeyong shook his head. “Water would be nice. Thank you.” And a moment later, you returned with a cold water bottle for him, handing it to him with a smile. And then he aced his interview and ended up here, with you.
He figured it was probably insignificant but he found that a lot of people in the working world could be so cold. But Taeyong was a person who cared a lot. He was someone who treated everyone with kindness, because that’s what he’d want in return. He was the kind of person who cared about the people he worked with.
“Have you been working here long?” Taeyong asked, as you showed him into the main kitchen. He noticed that the kitchen was stocked with snacks and fresh fruit, as he recalled you mentioning that the office manager, placed an order every week. You added earlier that if he had any requests, for office supplies or for snacks in the pantry, to let them know.
“Almost two years,” you replied. “I actually just got a promotion. I came up with this amazing concept for one of our new products. It wasn’t perfect but I worked with the product development team to figure it all out.”
“That’s really impressive,” he said. “I hope I can grow here, too.”
You nodded. “I’m sure you will…Between you and me, they took forever to fill this role. I feel like they were looking for the perfect person and, well, it looks like they found you.”
Taeyong chuckled. “That’s great to know.”
The two of you stood at the coffee machine, deciding to get a fresh cup from the machine that seemed to have endless options; from lattes to macchiatos, it seemed like the machine could do it all. You were very friendly, he noticed, and he hoped that the others were just as nice as you were.
*
Two weeks had gone by since Taeyong was brought on. In just two weeks, he’d gotten a lot done. Taeyong went from meeting to meeting, learning as much as he could about the company’s products. He took in your marketing plans, asking questions as he went. And soon enough he was churning out data reports based on your past campaigns. So far, he seemed to be the type to go above and beyond and you appreciated that. His doing his job well helped everyone else do their jobs well, too.
It was Friday and it was nearly five o’clock. It’d been a long week, full of deadlines and you were relieved to have a couple of days to relax. As of now, you had absolutely nothing planned. Kun was going out to a friend’s birthday dinner, so you figured you’d stay home and make dinner while enjoying a cool glass of wine.
As you made mental notes of the groceries you wanted to buy, you heard a slam from across the office. You’d been lost in your thoughts at that moment and you shrieked aloud.
Hina looked up from her laptop with a grin. “You’re so dramatic!” she said, nudging you in the arm. You both chuckled.
David stood up from his desk. “Please tell me that everyone is finished with their to do lists for today,” he asked, with a hopeful tone.
Mostly, everyone nodded, except Kevin who huffed and said, “We need to have a meeting with the product team on Monday. I just saw that they rejected the new design for packaging. And at this point, we’re going to have to push back the launch again.”
David sucked his teeth, turning back to her laptop screen. You knew his stress all too well. If his team’s work got rejected one too many times, all of our plans got pushed back. “What’s the issue now?” David chimed in, glaring across the room at the product team’s side of the office. “You know what? I don’t care. It can wait until Monday. I will send out a calendar invite. We can’t keep pushing these launches back like this…Anyway, I was thinking that we could go for a team dinner tonight if most of you are free? We haven’t officially welcomed Taeyong to the team since we’ve been so busy. My treat.”
The team clapped in response. Typically on Fridays David and Valentina didn’t make anyone work late, but very rarely did it come with either of them offering to pay for dinner. Within five minutes, all ten members of your team were packed and ready to go.
“Where are we going?” asked Taeyong in a curious tone.
“How about dim sum?” David suggested. “I’m in the mood for some dumplings and they have really good soup dumplings. Have you had those?”
Taeyong nodded. “I haven’t had any since I left Hong Kong.”
“Right, you went to school there. You’ll love these. The owners are from Hong Kong so it’s authentic and delicious.”
There were some murmurs of agreement and you and your team were whisked away, heading toward the elevators.
Taeyong walked with you, Hina, and your other teammate, Michelle. Taeyong was the talkative type, from what you could see, and he held up most of the conversation. You wondered how he had so much energy. Maybe it was because it was Friday and you’d left the office to start the weekend. Maybe it was because he was new and excited about his new position. Maybe he just had a lot of energy, in general. It wasn’t that you hated your job but it was rare that you felt feelings like joy or excitement about coming into work. Taeyong was excited and you almost envied him for it.
Your stomach grumbled as you went inside the restaurant and got a whiff of whatever was cooking in the kitchen as your group walked toward a large table in the back. Just as you were about to take a seat next to David, he waved Taeyong over. “Come sit here.” He made a hand motion at Hina, who had sat next to the seat he apparently wanted Taeyong in. “Scoot over one seat and let Y/N sit there so Taeyong can sit here.”
The three of you shuffled about until you were in your “assigned” seats. Hina whispered, “God, are we adults or are we in elementary school?” The two of you snickered together as the waiter placed a fresh pot of barley tea in the middle of the table.
The group spent the next ten minutes figuring out what to order. Your boss ordered several orders of everything—dumplings and buns in just about every form, wine chicken, tofu dishes, bok choy, chicken feet, and probably more rice rolls than you needed. And of course, he ordered some liquor to get everyone started. That was always his strategy: get everyone at least tipsy so that the conversation would be more interesting, as he put it.
The conversation was spread across the table, with your half of the table talking amongst yourselves and the other half doing the same. It wasn’t until the food came that your boss decided to be more interactive with Taeyong.
“How were these past two weeks? Are you adjusting well? I told everyone to take care of you so if they didn’t, you can tell me.”
Taeyong nodded. “It’s going well. I’m enjoying the work. And Y/N is really sweet. She helped me get settled easily.” He then turned to you directly. “Thanks for being so helpful and answering all my stupid questions. You’re really good at explaining! And you too, Hina. I’m learning a lot from both of you.”
You felt yourself blushing at the sudden compliment. Your work was something you were proud of but it was rare that someone openly appreciated the projects you’d worked on or your knowledge of the company products. Of course, Kun would always congratulate you when you told him about your accomplishments at work. But it felt good to hear it from someone at the company, especially from someone new to the team and someone who knew more about the things you were working on. You and Taeyong collaborated more than you thought you would initially. And the meetings you had with him were extremely helpful and even gave you some ideas for future projects. Taeyong seemed to be pretty creative and even contributed ideas that he wasn’t sure were even possible. But you liked that he seemed to believe that you could do anything with the right people and the right tools and resources.
David’s lips parted in surprise. “Wow, Taeyong is showering everyone with compliments today. I feel a little left out.”
Taeyong laughed. “Of course, I like working with you all but I have to admit, I think Y/N and Hina are more my style.”
You felt heat rising to your cheeks at Taeyong’s seemingly flirty comment. It wasn’t that you had a crush on Taeyong, but you were interested in him as a person. You genuinely enjoyed spending time with him and working on projects together. You were a marketing manager and he was an analyst. The two of you made a good team…along with Hina of course.
***
After food and a couple more drinks than you should’ve had, you were thoroughly stuffed. Your boss paid for the meal with the company credit card and scurried off saying that his wife was waiting for him at home. Then your coworkers began to disappear, one by one, until only you, Hina, and Taeyong were left. And Hina insisted on finishing the liquor your coworkers left behind in the pitcher.
You said, “I must have gained like fifty pounds.”
“Let’s start walking so we can lose at least five,” Taeyong said, nudging you.
“I should go on a diet,” you said, standing up from the chair, stretching.
“You don’t need a diet,” he said. “It always bothers me to hear women say that…”
Hina said, “So, your type is a woman who eats well, hm?”
Taeyong nodded with a smile. “Yeah. I love cooking so I want someone who can taste it first and tell me if it’s good or not.”
“Will you cook for the holiday potluck?”
Taeyong smirked. “Maybe.”
“I never had a man cook anything for me,” said Hina, frowning as she stood.
“But your dad cooks really well,” you said. “I still think about the clam soup he made for your birthday.”
“That doesn’t count,” she explained, as she slowly began to tip over into the chair. She held onto the table to hold herself up and rolled her eyes. “He’s my dad. I want a man to cook for me!”
Taeyong chuckled. “Does that mean you’re good at cooking? Do you take after your dad?”
Before she could answer, you opened your mouth to speak. “Let’s just say she could use a little work…”
Hina laughed. “Hey! I improved since last time!”
Taeyong patted her shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”
“I can go myself,” she said, doing her best to stand straight. Whether she realized it or not, she definitely couldn’t do it on her own.
You said, “Don’t worry. I can take her home.”
Taeyong shook his head. “What kind of man would I be if I let you go by yourselves? I’ll call a taxi and the three of us can go.”
Hina said, “I’m perfectly fine to take the train!”
“Fine,” said Taeyong with a sigh, “we can take the train.”
***
Hina was the one who insisted on taking the train despite hardly being able to support herself on her own two feet. She stumbled into you and Taeyong as the three of you walked to the station and even fell asleep in her seat, her mouth wide open.
“I’m sorry about Hina,” you said, as you arrived closer to her stop. “She’s one of those people where you don’t know how drunk she is until it’s too late.”
Taeyong smiled. “We all have that one friend.”
You’d been worried that Taeyong might be annoyed but, from what you could see, he seemed to have a lot of patience.
“Well I’m sorry that you have to spend your Friday night with your drunk coworkers,” you said, chuckling.
“It’s fine,” he said. “Really. I don’t mind at all. This is better than spending my Friday night by myself. I don’t have many friends in Seoul since I moved back. I got pretty close to a few people in Hong Kong but, you know, they’re in Hong Kong…” Taeyong continued. “My best friend from high school was an international student from Thailand so he’s back there. Lucky for me, he comes to Seoul pretty often for his work. And my other best friend is living in Incheon, so he’s close but he works in finance and he has a girlfriend now so he’s busy.”
“Wow, so most of your friends aren’t even in the country, huh?”
“Lucky me,” he said, with a sigh.
“Well we’ll definitely be friends with you. Even though Hina fell asleep, she really likes you. She said that you’re way better than Chaerin.”
You laughed and Taeyong joined in with a laugh that seemed so light and free. You liked hearing him laugh. Taeyong could be quiet at times but he was playful, too. Hina liked him and you liked him, too.
You and Taeyong helped Hina up and off of the train a moment later. Together, you brought Hina to her small apartment a couple blocks away from the station. As you got into the elevator, she said, “I ordered pizza.”
“When did you order pizza?”
“When you went to get me water from the convenience store.”
In those couple of minutes you were inside the store, Hina apparently ordered pizza while in Taeyong’s care. You shot him a look, to which he said, “I didn’t see her do it. I just thought she was texting or something.”
You laughed. “Well hopefully she can stay up long enough to eat it…”
Hina put in the code to her door and you and Taeyong followed her inside. You said, “I’ll help her put her pajamas on. You don’t have to stay. You’ve helped us out a lot tonight. I really appreciate it.”
Taeyong said, “I’ll stay here at least until she gets settled. I should make sure you get home okay, too.”
“Okay,” you said, before you disappeared with Hina into the bedroom. Thankfully, Hina had had a little bit of time to sober up and she didn’t seem as wobbly before. You pulled out pajamas from her drawers that didn’t match and handed them to her. You turned while Hina got herself undressed.
“I can’t believe I’m this drunk,” she said. “I’m so embarrassed Taeyong saw me like this.”
“It’s fine,” you assured her. “You had a little too much but it’s not like you did anything embarrassing. If you jumped on top of the table and started dancing, that would be a different story.” The two of you laughed for a moment before you turned to her. “Wait, you ordered pizza, right?”
Hina said, “Oh! I almost forgot. The app says it’ll be here in ten minutes. I’m so tired though.” She walked over to her bed. “I don’t care about taking my makeup off or taking a shower right now. Actually, can you just stay here until the pizza comes? I’m just gonna take a little nap. Wake me up when it gets here.” She put her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. She fell asleep almost instantly and you knew that she would give you hell when you tried to wake her up in a few minutes to eat.
You figured you should go to the bathroom before leaving. As you headed down the hall, you tripped over an unknown object, sending you crashing into the wall. As you collided with the wall, you knocked down a photo frame. It plummeted to the hardwood floor, crashing to the floor, the glass shattering.
Before you could blink, Taeyong was by your side, eyes wide and full of concern as you’d also ended up on the floor. “Are you okay? Did you get cut anywhere?” He took your hand, examining it for cuts.
“I think I’m okay,” you said, putting your palm on the floor to help you up.
“Wait,” he said, putting his hand out before you could touch anything. “Let me clean up the glass. There could be some small pieces and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
You waited for him to get back with the broom and watched as he swept up every single piece you could see.
“I guess I’ll buy her a new picture frame,” you said, chuckling. “What did I even trip over?” You turned to find one of Hina’s slippers in the middle of the floor. They must’ve come off as you brought her into the bedroom.
Taeyong winced as he picked up the last piece, shaking his hand. “Damn it!”
Your heart dropped as you saw a tiny sliver of blood pour from his finger. You got up, despite his protests, and got Hina’s first aid kit from the medicine cabinet. You called him over to sit on the bathtub edge, next to you, and pulled out a bandage and alcohol wipe.
He sat down and said, “I can do it, you know…”
“It’s fine,” you said, ripping the paper open on the alcohol wipe. You swiped at the blood coming from his cut, causing Taeyong to yelp from the sting. His reaction made you chuckle. He rolled his eyes as you put the bandage on, wrapping it carefully around his finger. “There.”
“Thanks,” he said, smiling at you.
Your eyes met his. The air felt heavy for a few seconds. It felt almost as time stopped. There was this slight tension that you weren’t sure if he felt, too. The few seconds that you had locked eyes felt like hours. The doorbell rang, interrupting the seemingly intimate moment.
“I’ll get it.”
*
As you predicted, Hina didn’t wake up in time for the pizza. When you attempted to wake her from her drunken state, you were met with protest and crankiness. Despite your best attempts, Hina refused to be pulled or prodded. So, you and Taeyong helped yourselves.
In the middle of your bite, you heard a loud vibrating sound. “Oh,” you said, “my phone!” You realized that you hadn’t paid your phone a single ounce of attention since you’d arrived. Your heart dropped as you realized that it was your boyfriend calling.
You answered. “Hello?”
“Are you okay, babe?”
“Of course. I’m fine.”
“I was worried,” he said. “I was trying to stay awake until you came home but I fell asleep…Why didn’t you text me back?”
“I saw your message but I forgot about it. Hina got a little too drunk, then me and Taeyong helped me get her home…”
“Taeyong?”
“He’s new to the team. I told you, remember?”
“Right,” he said. “Anyway, are you still going to come here? Maybe you should go home instead. I could meet you there?”
“No, it’s okay. We have pizza so I’ll eat a little more and then come there.”
“Use my account and take a taxi, okay? I’ll wait for you.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“I love you, Y/N. Get here safely, okay?”
“Yeah,” you said, “I will.”
You pressed end and returned to your pizza. To be honest, you felt a little awkward having that conversation in front of Taeyong.
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” he said. “Have you been together long?”
“It’s been about two years,” you explained. “I guess I just don’t talk about him much.”
Taeyong nodded, taking his last bite of pizza. “We should get going,” he said. “Will Hina be okay?”
“Yeah,” you said, “I put a bottle of water on her nightstand and the garbage can is by her bed if she needs to throw up.” You stood up. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”
While you went to the bathroom, Taeyong picked up the paper plates and cleared the counter. He put the pizza box in the fridge and then went to get your coat. By the time you came out, Taeyong had your coat and bag ready for you.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
***
Kun was awake when you arrived. He was sitting on the couch waiting for you, makeup remover and cotton balls ready.
“Hey baby,” he said, a wide smile on his face. “Welcome back.”
“Hi,” you said, sitting next to him. You planted a kiss on his lips with a loud smack. “I’m not that drunk babe. I can take my makeup off.”
He chuckled in response. “A good boyfriend should always be prepared for his drunk girlfriend to come home. They’ll come back too drunk to take off their makeup, they’ll start demanding to order chicken nuggets or they’ll throw you on the bed for sex.”
“I’ve only done those things like once.”
“I mean, you definitely made me go to McDonalds and yelled at me because it was late and they only had breakfast. So, you asked for a McGriddle instead.” As you laughed and reached for the cotton balls, Kun stopped you. “I got it, babe.”
You shrugged and let your boyfriend remove your makeup. He was always so gentle with you; it was as if he thought you might break if he held you too tightly. In that moment, you realized how tired you were. And Kun knew that because he picked you up off of the couch, carrying you into the bedroom. He kissed you as he placed you onto the bed. Before you knew it, he was peeling off your clothes, kissing each spot where he removed something.
You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each kiss. When he finally took your panties off, you couldn’t take it anymore. You found yourself climbing on top of him, cupping his face with your hands around his face. You kissed him, pushing your tongue in his mouth.
“What’s with you?” Kun asked, surprised by your forwardness, as he pulled away from you.
“I just want you, babe,” you said, kissing his neck.
“I want you, too,” he said, rolling you over onto your back. He swiped at your pussy, feeling how wet you’d gotten. He hummed in satisfaction. He pushed a finger inside, your wetness covering it. You gasped at the feeling, gripping around his finger. As he added another, you let out a moan. He fingered you for a few moments, driving you crazy. You needed him inside of you and you needed it now.
“Please,” you whined.
At that, he pulled his fingers out. He got on top of you and you used your hands to guide him inside. He plunged deep into you, taking a moment to revel in the feeling. You pulled him closer, wrapping your arms and legs around him. Your lips parted in satisfaction as he began to pull and push himself in and out of you. Kun loved it when you were on your back and he could look deep into your eyes.
You pulled him closer, bringing him into your neck. He kissed it so tenderly with each stroke, allowing a soft moan to come from your lips. He went slow for you, plunging seemingly deeper and deeper into you.
Moments later, he wasn’t going easy on you anymore. He’d bent you over the bed and was pounding you hard, sending you into a frenzy of loud moans in which you were sure the neighbors could hear. And with one last stroke, he came undone with a heavy sigh.
After, you and Kun laid down in bed. Naked bodies pressed against each other, Kun held you in his arms as you began to slowly drift to sleep.
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered before pressing his lips to your shoulder. You heard him but couldn’t bring yourself to speak back. It was just seconds before your world went dark.
***
General Taglist: @to-all-the-stories-i-love @sweetnspicy-noona
LMK if you want to be tagged in the next part! - Part II coming soon!
