Series: Love Me Two Times
series: love me two times
businessman minho! x former one night stand reader (and soon to be spouse)
chapter 1: whiskey, regret, and other engagement traditions
read introduction here
word count: 3100 words
WARNINGS: strong language, sexual content (maybe eventual smut if i have the strength to), emotional manipulation, toxic family dynamics, power imbalances, alcohol use, eventual gun violence, blood and injury, blackmail, surveillance, themes of control, secrecy, betrayal, emotional repression, unhealthy coping mechanisms, psychological tension under the guise of romance, dubious business dealings, mentions of public scandal and reputation damage, manipulation via arranged marriage, and consistent, unapologetically bad decision making from most, if not all, characters involved. british humour. in case you all pussy out from that.
A/N: oh my god she's here. chapter 1 is here. i have no clue as to how this is going to end but i put my whole soul, heart, brain and dick into this fic. (which is a lot, mind you) thank you for the support on a whimsical little intro i wrote at my grandparents' house while my dog slept on my feet. thank you thank you thank you. chapter 2 coming next weekend. hopefully. also omg sho's first non lower caps fic
playlist. (coming soon)
─── Lee Minho had always been a man who thrived in chaos. Corporate wars, high-stakes meetings, and PR disasters were his playground. But even he couldn’t have predicted the one nightmare he’d spent years running from would land right back in front of him, wrapped in a perfectly tailored suit, flashing a smile that had ruined him once before.
He could handle anything…
Except the one person who had, through one night alone, known exactly how to bring him to his knees.
Lee Minho liked to think of himself as a man who could handle anything.
Corporate warfare? Child’s play. High stakes negotiations? His playground. He could charm billionaires over black coffee and through a simple peak of his collarbone, crush competitors with a smile, and walk out of a scandal cleaner than he went in, usually with a headline the press couldn’t stop foaming over.
Adaptability was his superpower. Precision, his trademark. Control? Non fucking negotiable.
At least, it had been, until you happened.
Again.
He stared at you, his supposed fiancé(e), the ghost of one of his most notable past mistakes, and thought—briefly, desperately—that maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he had worked himself into a stress-induced psychotic episode, and in reality, he was rocking back and forth in his office chair while his assistant frantically called for medical assistance. Would he be embarrassed that this would be the second time this would be happening? Maybe. Would he atleast be overjoyed by the fact that you weren't standing before him, far more gorgeous than all those years ago? Absolutely.
But no. This was real. You were real. This was happening.
You were still standing there, looking just as horrified as he felt, though, annoyingly, still unfairly attractive. Time had been disgustingly kind to you. And you had that same look in your eyes as before, the one that told him you were about seven seconds away from causing him severe emotional distress. And possibly a boner. Although he wasn't drunk enough for that. Not yet, atleast.
His brain short circuited as he watched you approach the table. You, of all people. He had been expecting a stiff, glass-of-champagne, charity-gala kind of person. Not you—the human embodiment of bad decisions and incredible, incredible sex.
Minho could laugh. His parents had unknowingly betrothed him to his favourite one-night stand. Brilliant.
“You have got to be fucking with me,” you finally said, sliding into the chair across from him.
“I wish I was,” Minho muttered, picking up his glass of whiskey and downing half of it in one go.
“So,” you said, resting your elbows on the table. “Long time no see.”
Minho blinked at you. Long time no see? You were acting like you’d bumped into him at Tesco, not like you were about to be married to the man you once absolutely ruined in a hotel room after a night of reckless decisions and expensive cocktails.
You, who had once dragged him into a bathroom stall at some questionably pricey nightclub and ruined him for every person he fucked after. Which he unashamedly agreed, were a lot. And the worst part was perhaps, that he remembered everything. He remembered the way you had looked at him that night, like you knew exactly what you were doing, like you had been born to make him suffer in the best possible way. He remembered your voice, the way you had laughed at him when he’d tried to act cool and ended up tripping over his own shoes, too fancy for him at the time. And he remembered the morning after, waking up alone, the only trace of you being a note scrawled on hotel stationery that simply read:
cheers for that. 10/10. no notes.
Minho had never been so simultaneously offended and impressed in his life.
And now? Now he was supposed to marry you? Spend forever with you...or atleast attempt to?
He took another large sip of whiskey.
“So,” you said, eyes sparkling with amusement. “How’s life been treating you? Still a bit of a man whore, or have you finally learned to keep it in your tailored trousers?”
Minho inhaled sharply through his nose. “I am a legitimate businessman.”
“Ah, so still a man whore,” you mused, nodding sagely.
Minho chose to ignore you.
"This… is a mistake," he muttered, running a hand through his usually well tamed hair. "This has to be a mistake."
"Oh, absolutely. Because otherwise we'll have to tell our parents we can’t get married because we’ve already seen each other naked," you say, leaning back in your chair with an unimpressed look. The very same that had drawn Minho to you that night. Because who did you think you were? Ignoring his wit and charm as he sat in the club's sofa, basking in attention and alcohol? The arrogant lad had decided that night, to prove himself to you. And prove, he did. A decision he didn't otherwise regret...until now.
Minho groaned and tried to reach over to his glass of whiskey, only to realise you were already drinking from it. "I swear to God, this is karma. This is divine punishment for my past sins."
"Well, considering your past sins include half of Central London, yeah, probably," you said with a shrug, swirling the now empty crystal glass.
He glared at you, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of exasperation and disbelief. You, in contrast, beamed at him with the kind of saccharine sweetness that suggested you were enjoying every second of his suffering. Minho noted internally, that you'd make a terrible actor, given that while the smile made it seem as though he was the only one seconds away from throwing up, your bouncing knee gave you away.
Minho, for his part, looked as though his soul had momentarily left his body. He blinked slowly, like someone trying to wake from a very specific, very inconvenient nightmare.
"Right," he said eventually, clapping his hands together in a sharp, business-like motion, as though trying to galvanise himself into action. "Let’s get this over with. How are we going to get out of this engagement?"
You shrugged nonchalantly, as if the matter were no more serious than choosing what to have for lunch. "Run away to Spain? Fake your death? Oh! You could seduce my grandmother so she convinces my father to call it off?"
"I am not seducing your grandmother."
"Coward."
Before Minho could offer a retort—no doubt a scathing one—a waiter, appeared at your table. He was the very picture of refined hospitality: all polite smiles, pressed shirt cuffs, and the faint waft of expensive cologne that trailed behind him like a signature.
"Good evening. May I start you off with a drink?"
"Whiskey. Double. Actually, just bring the bottle," Minho said, without so much as a blink, eyes still on you.
"Make that two," you added, not missing a beat, but still being polite and stable enough to break eye contact with Minho and smile at the waiter.
The attendant gave a courteous nod and retreated, leaving behind a faint trail of bergamot and judgement.
Minho exhaled slowly and dropped his head into his hands for a moment before glancing up at you, utterly defeated.
"This is going to be a disaster," he muttered, as if saying it aloud might somehow lessen the blow.
Minho barely had a moment to wallow in the tragic comedy of his predicament — engaged, against all logic, to a person who had just suggested seducing their own grandmother — before reality doubled down.
It came in the form of a booming, far-too-cheerful voice that could only belong to one man.
“Ah, Minho, you’ve met your fiancé(e)! Wonderful!”
The words rang through the restaurant and Minho flinched so hard he nearly knocked over the cutlery. He didn’t dare turn around. There was no need. He knew that voice. That was the voice of a man who thought forced betrothal was not only acceptable, but downright romantic.
His father.
Minho visibly recoiled, gripping the edge of the table as if bracing for impact. He had to physically resist the very natural urge to bang his forehead repeatedly against the pristine linen tablecloth.
And then, his parents descended upon the table in full force — exuding money, control issues, and the smug satisfaction of people who had just solved a problem by creating three more.
His mother was dressed in a sleek, couture suit that probably required its own bank account, looking every inch the woman who judged people based on the mineral content of their bottled water. His father wore the expression of someone who’d just sealed a lucrative merger and genuinely believed his son should be grateful for it.
And then there was your dad.
Looking every bit like the kind of man who once tried to bribe a headmaster with a case of vintage wine and a framed photo of himself shaking hands with a minor royal. So what if you weren't the best at studies during school? Was it really your fault that your Physics teacher was a bigger bitch than daddy dearest here?
Minho had never met him before, but he looked exactly as one might expect the father of someone like you to look—sharp suit, sharper glare, and the quiet intensity of a man who considered emotional vulnerability a personal failure. He radiated a kind of heavy, generational disappointment, like someone who’d been sighing over your life choices since the moment you learned how to form opinions of your own.
“Hello, sweetheart,” your dad said, planting a quick kiss on your forehead, affectionate in the way a CEO might congratulate a junior employee for not burning the office down. Then he turned to Minho, assessing the man who was supposed to be his future son-in-law with a look that would've made 16 year old Minho audibly whimper.
Your husband-to-be, drawing out every ounce of his professionalism, business acumen, and carefully cultivated adult composure, managed to respond with:
“Hi.”
Brilliant. Smooth. Absolutely nailed it. James Bond could never.
Your dad, unsurprisingly, looked as though he’d just been personally insulted.
Minho’s own parents, however, were beaming across the table, undoubtedly proud of their matchmaking skills.
“This is perfect,” his mother gushed, settling into her seat like she’d orchestrated the entire evening herself (she had). “I knew you two would suit each other.”
Minho let out a laugh that could only be described as emotionally strangled. Suit each other? Yes, absolutely. Because nothing screamed long term compatibility like a one-night stand from his blackout phase that he'd spent the past few years actively repressing, only to now be legally tethered to it in holy matrimony.
“So,” your dad said, leaning back in his chair with all the gravitas of a man about to sign a trade deal. “Shall we discuss the terms of this marriage?”
Terms. Terms. Marriage. Minho wasn’t sure which part of that sentence he found more horrifying — the casual contract language or the undeniable implication that none of this was a joke.
Minho looked at you, searching your face for some kind of solidarity. Instead, he found you sipping your whiskey like it was just another Wednesday, eyes half-lidded, posture relaxed—like this whole thing wasn’t giving you heart palpitations.
But oh, it was.
You weren’t calm. You were resigned. You’d played this game before. You knew exactly how your father operated: charm first, control second, and condescension somewhere in between. This wasn’t a dinner—it was a business meeting. And you were already sick of it.
“Well,” his father said briskly, “the wedding will take place in three months.”
Minho choked violently on his drink. “Three months?!”
“Yes,” his mother replied smoothly, not even blinking. “Any longer and people will start gossiping.”
Gossiping. Of course. Because obviously, public perception was the real villain here.
“Three months is plenty of time,” your dad added, nodding with the calm authority of a man who hadn’t even asked how you felt about any of this.
Minho's brown eyed flickered to you again, looking for help. A hotline number. A hint of rebellion. Something. Anything.
You just smiled at him.
It wasn’t kind.
“Now then,” your dad continued, “what about a prenup?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Minho’s father nodded enthusiastically. “We’ll have our legal teams draft it immediately.”
“Yes, yes, that’s all well and good,” Minho cut in, finally finding the will to form sentences again. “But- do I get a say in this?”
His mother tilted her head in that familiar, patronising way that suggested she thought his input was adorable but entirely unnecessary.
“Minho, darling,” she said, her tone one of pure condescension, “this is for your own good.”
Your dad chimed in, nodding. “If either of you had a reliable romantic track record, we wouldn’t be here. But let’s be honest-” he waved a hand vaguely in your direction “-you don’t, and-” he turned to Minho, gaze sharp and deeply insulting,“-you certainly don’t.”
You smiled tightly, jaw clenched just enough that it hurt.
Minho felt his soul attempt to vacate his body. Right there. In the middle of this overpriced, mood-lit, jazz-playing nightmare of a restaurant. He was going to die. And the only thing good about a death here would be that Art Blakey was playing in the background.
“So it’s settled,” his mother said brightly, with finality in her voice, “Three months from now, we’ll have a wedding.”
Minho turned to you. You turned to him.
You raised your glass in a slow, sarcastic toast.
“To our bright and happy future,” you said, voice honeyed, but eyes suddenly cold.
And your father smiled like he’d just won. Because unbeknownst to the two of you, he had.
•━━━━━━━━━━━•
Minho had made a lot of terrible decisions in his life. A truly impressive number. Enough to warrant a multi-part documentary series, probably titled Lee Minho: A Lifetime of Questionable Choices—with dramatic re-enactments, ominous voiceovers, and a theme song that sounded like a slow motion car crash. His friends could probably star in it too.
But agreeing (not really) to marry you?
Oh, that was shooting straight to the top of the list. Hall of fame. Permanent exhibit in the Museum of Regret.
Because it had been barely twenty four hours since the disaster that was your engagement dinner, and already, he felt his life being ruined, one sarcastic comment at a time.
“So, how long have you two been engaged?” Felix asked innocently, if one could call anything Felix did innocent, while stirring sugar into his overpriced cold brew.
Minho looked up from his coffee, eyes already tired. He’d made the mistake of inviting you to brunch with his friends. In public. With witnesses. Clearly, he’d suffered a blow to the head.
“Oh, it’s been wonderful,” you gushed. You reached over to squeeze Minho’s hand like you actually meant it. Maybe you did. Minho didn't want to bother with the details if it meant another migraine. “We’ve been informally engaged for a whole, what, twelve hours now? It’s been magical. Truly life altering. I can’t wait to be legally bound to this man forever.”
Minho squeezed your hand back. Hard.
“Yes,” he deadpanned. “Overjoyed. Thrilled. Best day of my life.”
Felix, the little gremlin, grinned, his mind already turning your worrying marriage into a soap opera. “Well, it’s about time you settled down, hyung. You’ve been a menace to society for years.”
“First of all, that is highly inappropriate. I am a legitimate businessma-”
“Mate,” Chan, Minho’s business partner, cut in. “You once forgot a woman’s name mid-bloody-date.”
“And she had to remind you,” Hyunjin added, sipping his neon-green liquid. Whatever it was.
“And you still got her number,” Seungmin chimed in, looking vaguely offended on behalf of all women. You'd be sure to send his number to your recently heartbroken friend.
Minho groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why had he thought bringing you to brunch was a good idea? Why had he brought you into public? With his friends at that? He had practically announced a 'Bully-Lee-Minho' day himself.
“Oh, don’t worry,” you said brightly. Too brightly. “He’s very devoted now. Wakes up every morning and just stares at me in awe, whispering about how lucky he is.”
Felix gasped, awestruck at the beauty of love at first sight. “Really?”
“Absolutely,” you said, smiling. “He even cries a little.”
Minho nearly inhaled his coffee. “I do not-”
“He does,” you said solemnly, giving his hand another squeeze. “It’s beautiful.”
Chan leaned back in his chair, way too entertained. “Well, I can’t wait for the wedding. Have you set a date?”
“Not yet,” Minho said quickly, cutting you off before you could say something like ‘we’re thinking next week, on a volcano.’ “We’re taking our time.”
“Oh, obviously,” you added, ever helpful. “We have to enjoy the honeymoon phase before I find out all his deep, dark secrets. Like his skincare routine, or lack thereof. Which I'll have to change either way. Or his browser history.”
Hyunjin gagged. “Please. Spare us.”
“No, no,” you mused, eyes alight with mischief. “I think he’s hiding something. Like a secret past. Maybe he was a failed K-pop trainee. Maybe he’s got a tattoo that says ‘Live, Laugh, Love.’ Or he owns a mug that says Boss Babe.”
"I actually gifted him that." Chan added, sipping his protein smoothie.
“Or if he has a pet rock named Gary, considering one of his girlfriends was Australian,” Hyunjin added and Chan nods proudly.
“Or an old TikTok account where he lipsyncs to early 2000s emo hits,” Seungmin said.
“I knew you gave eyeliner energy,” Felix muttered.
Minho buried his face in his hands. “Please. I am begging you all to stop.”
You just leaned in, resting your chin in your hand as you smiled sweetly. “Aww. He’s shy.”
Minho resisted the urge to walk directly into London traffic.
But even as the table erupted into laughter, and your brunch turned into an impromptu roast, something shifted. A cold thread of unease slid down Minho’s spine.
You were laughing, yes. Playing the part perfectly. But beneath the sparkle in your eyes was something else—something guarded. The way your smile didn’t quite reach all the way. The way your shoulders tensed every time someone mentioned the wedding, like the word itself had claws.
He couldn’t put his finger on it, not entirely. Maybe it was the text from your father that he had watched you ignore minutes ago. Maybe it was the transparent pants Hyunjin had worn years earlier making a reappearance in his head for some reason. Or maybe it was just his own overworked brain, spinning a conspiracy out of nerves and too much caffeine.
Whatever it was, Minho decided to shelve it for later. He had reports to review. Contracts to sign. A mountain of paperwork waiting for him and exactly zero emotional bandwidth to spare.
He’d figure it out. Eventually.
For now, he’d go home, finish his paperwork, and go to sleep.
Not knowing that what he’d wake up to would be far more fearsome than your father’s moustache.
Far, far worse.
Because somewhere, in a dimly lit security office, a grainy CCTV recording, dated four years ago, timestamped 2:14 a.m., was being uploaded by hands far too eager and far too vengeful.
A bed. A hotel logo in the corner. Two familiar silhouettes.
And the unmistakable beginning of the scandal that would burn everything to the ground.
...
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More Posts from Valreifang and Others
menace!boyfriend k.sm. (a much needed headcanon)
: ̗̀➛ pairing — seungmin x gn!reader : ̗̀➛ word count — 530 : ̗̀➛ content — fluff, seungmin acting like everyone's annoying little brother
a/n — these pictures of kim seungmin killed me. who told him to look this good with a bowl cut???? i hope you guys enjoyed this!!
menace!seungmin who was definitely your friend before becoming your boyfriend.
menace!seungmin who suddenly yells "boo!" and grabs your shoulders to scare you during the quietest scene of a horror movie. if you screamed, he would laugh his heart out and you promise yourself to never watch a horror movie with him ever again.
menace!seungmin who would definitely act the silliest while you're drinking water to purposefully make you laugh while your mouth is FULL and dodge when you spray it out of your mouth and nose
menace!seungmin who brings food to your mouth like a gentlemen but then shoves it into his own mouth
menace!seungmin who throws a snowball at you in the winter and has it go down your back. but then on that same evening, he would hug you in bed with the heat of his body warming you up as if he didn't just freeze your butt off earlier.
menace!seungmin who refuses to ask you directly when he wants to see you so he "forgets" stuff at your house so he can go over to get it
menace!seungmin who walks in on you in the bathroom and starts a casual conversation like you aren't sitting on the toilet.
menace!seungmin who will never make a normal entrance whenever you've got a date planned. he told you to meet him in front of the movie theatre? he'll jump out of the corner to surprise attack you when you're there. he told you he'd pick you up? he's hiding beside the door when you open it, waiting to jump at you. if you dated him in high school, he'd definitely be the type of guy to cover your eyes and say "guess who?"
when you two are at dinner alone or with a group of people like your family, menace!seungmin will always put his foot on yours under the table and not let you go
menace!seungmin who will flick his wet hands at you while walking out of the bathroom to annoy you and he got you to do it to him every time as well
menace!seungmin who has you becoming a mini-version of him. you'd adopt his vocabulary and attitude so you joke about how he's being a bad influence on you.
menace!seungmin who is obsessed with kissing your hands. if you have your hand in his, he'll bring it up to his lips with any chance he gets. before crossing the road, waiting for the street food to be ready, going up in the elevator, you name it. sometimes if he's feeling silly he'll bite your hand while he's at it.
menace!seungmin who can't look into your eyes for too long or else he'll fold so he always ruffles your hair or gently pushes your head away if he ever feels like the eye contact is becoming too much. you don't know this so you just assume he likes to make your hair messy like the bitch he is.
menace!seungmin who's love language is being annoying but if he ever catches anyone else doing it to you, he'll fight their ass
menace!seungmin who loves you to the ends of the earth and will never fail to tell you
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
현진 ─── give me more
♡ ― [ minors do not interact! ] solo hwang hyunjin drabble . praise kink , masturbation , use of imagination idk ♡ ― basically this is about hyunjin getting off to the thought of fans touching him and worshipping his body (all fans imagined in this are obviously legal age) i wrote this because ever since i saw these vids hyunjin has been driving me insane bye ♡ masterlist
the adrenaline still hummed in his veins, a phantom sensation lingering on his skin—the ghost of hands that had traced over his arms, his chest, his back. soft fingers, eager touches, the warmth of a thousand bodies pressing in close, their collective hunger feeding something primal inside him. hyunjin had let them, basking in the attention, in the way they reached for him like he was something divine. like he was made to be touched.
now, alone in the dim glow of his hotel room, that feeling hadn’t faded. if anything, it had settled deep, a slow, aching pulse between his legs. he exhaled, dropping onto the mattress, muscles still taut from the stage, skin too hot, too sensitive. his shirt felt suffocating. he peeled it off, letting the cool air kiss across the places where hands had been, imagining they were still there.
a slow drag of his palm down his torso, nails scratching lightly. his lips parted at the contact, a flicker of a sigh escaping. they had touched him everywhere, fingers grazing his waist, pressing against his spine, ghosting over the line of his throat. his mind twisted it into something filthier, something darker. what if those hands weren’t fleeting? what if they took, claimed, worshipped?
his breath hitched. he pushed his sweatpants lower, his cock already hard, aching with the thought. a shudder ran through him as he wrapped a hand around himself, the imagined sensation of dozens of hands making his fingers feel inadequate. he wanted more. wanted to be devoured, to be nothing but sensation under the weight of their touch.
his grip tightened, strokes rough, desperate. his head tipped back against the pillows, lips parted as he let himself sink into the fantasy—nails raking down his chest, lips pressing into his skin, the dizzying rush of being wanted so completely. he imagined the warmth of their breath against his throat, the press of lips against his pulse, murmuring words of devotion. his body tensed, his muscles coiling tight with every slow, deliberate pull of his hand.
the pleasure built quickly, a molten heat curling low in his stomach. his thighs trembled, his breath stuttering as he chased the sensation, hips lifting into his own grip. he imagined hands holding him down, keeping him still, forcing him to take it, to be utterly lost in the overwhelming pleasure of being touched, being worshipped. his own moans filled the quiet space, raw and unrestrained, his body unraveling under the weight of his own fantasy.
he could feel the pressure cresting, that intoxicating edge drawing closer, his body tightening in anticipation. his strokes turned frantic, his entire form strung taut with need, with hunger, until the tension snapped, pleasure crashing over him in waves so strong they left him shaking. his orgasm ripped through him, white-hot and all-consuming, spilling over his fingers as his breath came in ragged, broken gasps.
even now, he could still feel them. the ghosts of their touch, the remnants of his own desire. it wasn’t enough. it never was.
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Always You
Pairing: Best friend! Bangchan x Afab! Reader
Summary: It’s hard to enjoy a party when your best friend who you’ve been in love with for years turns up with his girlfriend…
Warnings: MDNI, dom!chan, sub!reader, possessive!chan, unprotected sex (don’t be like them) dirty talk, cum eating, multiple orgasms (f!rec) fingering (f!rec) mentions of mastubation, spitting (chan spits on it yk..) tummy bulge, creampie
Wc: 2.7k
a/n: did I write and edit it this in one sitting? yes I did,,, is this also my return to writing fics after 5 years bc I’m so attracted to chan idk what to do?? Also yes 🤪
‘‘Lixieee watch my drink, I nearly dropped it’’ You roll your eyes and smile at Felix as he practically jumps on you. His parties were always rowdy, especially when Jisung wormed his way into the planning. Colourful lights strewn around every pillar and doorway, countless bottles and cheesy red cups littering the granite countertops in the dorm kitchen, the air thick with smoke and the sickly sweet scent of liquor.
Part of you loved how committed the boys were to throwing the most stereotypical frat parties, the perfect way to unwind from the stress of uni life. You scan the room for that all too familiar face but find no sign of him, your shoulders dropping slightly, the disappointment in your chest too strong to ignore.
You and Chan had been best friends since you were 12, your parents pushing you together as an unlikely duo. You'd immediately become inseparable,spending every second with each other. People had always questioned your relationship, everyone thought you must be dating if you were so close, but you and Chan were just friends, at least that's what you convinced yourself it had to be.
You first started having feelings for Chan at 18, you were university freshmen starting the next big chapter of your lives together and you couldn't get him out of your head. His deep brown eyes that sparkled when he spoke about the things he loved, his soft curly black hair that you loved ruffling to annoy him and his dimples that became impossibly deep when he smiled. Being around him was both torture and comfort. Three years later and you were still completely in love with someone who views you as his best friend, nothing more. In other words, you're utterly fucked.
‘’Lix, have you seen Chan tonight? I thought he was coming’’ Felix still clinging to you in his tipsy state. His messy blonde hair slightly covering his eyes and freckle-dotted cheeks, a pink blush dusting his skin thanks to the many drinks he’d already knocked back.
‘’Nah not yet, he said he's coming later after his date’’ he slurs his words a little, all giggly and happy, not knowing the ache his words cause you. You hum in response, suddenly feeling less sociable than a few minutes ago.
‘’Ahhhhh speak of the devil’’ Felix laughs and nods toward the doorway, Chan's broad shoulders making it look tiny. His hand interlocked with hers, observing the room and briefly locking eyes with you before looking away.
Chan had been dating Euna for a few months, but it never got easier seeing them together.
They'd met in one of your classes, Euna was sweet, pretty and very popular with both the students and teachers. It hadn’t taken Chan too long to fall for her and spend less and less time with you. He swore nothing had changed between you two but you knew better. It wasn't long after they started dating that Chan began cancelling your plans because ‘Euna planned something’ or he ‘just couldn't make it that day’ You wanted to believe that it would all go back to the way it was soon enough but that day never came, Chan drifting further as time passed.
You missed his smile, the way he would make you laugh, the way he would bring you your favourite food when you were tired or upset. You thought that maybe one day you would be together, that Chan would see you as more than just his best friend. Sometimes it felt like more between you two.
He and Euna weave their way through the crowd, her trailing slightly behind, Chan looking back at her every so often with a smile, the sight of them making you nauseous though you wish it didn't. Chan lets go of her to pull Felix into a hug, Euna eyeing you awkwardly as the two of them catch up. Euna had never been rude to you, never made a snarky comment about you being friends with Chan, but she never really said much around you if you were honest.
‘’Your dress is super pretty’’ you squeak out attempting to break the silence between you two, She offers up a small thank you and a tight smile and turns to Chan as he pulls her into his side, his attention now on the two of you instead of the tipsy blonde Aussie
‘’Hey y/n’’ Chan smiles as he lets go of Euna and pulls you into a quick side hug, letting go as quickly as he’d pulled you in, his soft musky scent filling your senses. The four of you make small talk, Chan's eyes catching your own as Felix rambles to Euna about his current pc build. The air starts to feel suffocating, his glances making you feel trapped. You quickly make an excuse to leave, Chan's smile faltering as you excuse yourself from their conversation and disappear into the crowd of bodies.
It was impossible to think while Chan was standing there, his arms wrapped around Euna unapologetically. The jealousy burning more than the straight tequila sloshing around in your cup, you start to sway to the music begging yourself to forget about him and enjoy your night. You feel a pair of eyes follow your silhouette but you continue to drink and dance, the alcohol making its way through your system and drowning out every thought.
You feel a figure behind you grabbing your hips and swaying with you, turning your head to see the blurred outline of Hyunjin, his hair in his eyes, a pair of red sunglasses perched on his nose. You let yourself melt into him, you'd always found him attractive anyway. You and Hyunjin move together perfectly, his smooth movements guiding your own as he whispers the lyrics to the song in your ear, his plump lips catching your skin slightly. You finally move your eyes to Chan still feeling someone watching you, secretly wishing it was him. You’re met with a sharp glare, his eyes never leaving you and Hyunjin, his jaw locked in annoyance, you roll your eyes at him and turn around to face Hyunjin winding your arms around his slender neck.
You turn back to glance at Chan to find him charging your way, ripping you from your dance partner's embrace and towards the stairwell.
‘’Chan what the fuck are you doing?’’ you yell, trying to wriggle your wrist from his strong grip as he pulls you upstairs and into one of the empty bedrooms.
‘’What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are YOU doing y/n? Grinding all over Hyunjin like that’’
‘’We are not doing this right now, why does it have anything to do with you, Chan? Why do you even care?’’ venom coating your words, attempting to open the door and leave but being stopped short when he stands in the way, eyes burning into yours. Chan had never been like this with you, what had gotten into him?
‘’What? Are you suddenly into Hyunjin?? We both know he's not right for you y/n’’ his eyebrows knitted in annoyance.
‘’And how would you know what's best for me Chan? We hardly talk anymore!’’ you run your fingers through your hair, easing the tension building up behind your eyes.
‘’Of course we still talk, you know i've been busy’’ he fires back, disregarding how much space really had built up between the two of you.
’Give it up Chan and go back to Euna, what I do with Hyunjin has fuck all to do with you’’ you can't deal with the confusion, why is he acting like he's jealous of you and Hyunjin? Why does it matter to him?
‘’’I’m your best friend y/n of course it has something to do with me, he's not right for you’’
‘’Oh my god get your head out of your ass chan, just like you said, you're my best friend not my boyfriend. You can date but I can't? I'm not gonna wait on you to notice me for the rest of my life’’ You turn your face away from him, your confidence and fire slipping as Chan studies you intensely, the room silent apart from your breathing.
‘’My god you’re an idiot’’ Chan mumbles before grabbing your chin and smashing his lips onto yours, you melt into the kiss at first before snapping out of it and pushing him away
Chan what are you doing?’’ You feel dizzy as you maintain your balance, your hands still pressed against his toned chest. your lungs heaving in time with the thud of the music coming from below.
‘’You really have no idea, do you? I’m fucking in love with you y/n, why do you think I even started dating Euna in the first place, I wanted to get over you, why else would I jump into a relationship with a girl I hardly knew??’’ The annoyance in his voice evident as he goes on, he runs his hand through his hair repeatedly, messy waves falling in his face.
You stare up at him stunned, your lips parted in surprise, he pulls you back in, his lips covering yours as he presses you into him with fervour. He deepens the kiss and walks you backwards, his hands pressing into your hips, his hold nothing like hyunjins. He pulls away his eyes searching yours for something, anything.
“Tell me to stop, if you don't want this I’ll walk away” his voice is breathy and pained, evident that the last thing he wanted was for you to say now.
You've waited too long for this, for him to need you, touch you. You know it's wrong, his girlfriend just a floor below but you’ve wanted and waited too much to stop and walk away, you can deal with your moral shortcomings tomorrow.
‘’Please, Chan’’ you whisper, desperate for him to touch you again, clenching your thighs together as heat pools in your lower stomach, your insides on fire for him. He watches how desperate you are for him, your answer clear.
‘’Fuck you’re perfect’’ you look at him pleadingly and he can't hold back anymore, he’d thought about you like this too many times to count, in dreams and when awake. When he can't sleep and he fucks his fist wishing it was you, how pretty your moans would sound as he rocked into you, how tight you'd be around him, how his cum would leak out of your fluttering hole. He was too far gone, a man possessed.
You gasp as he pushes you back on the bed, his weight pressing you into the mattress perfectly, he licks and nips at your jaw, his hand finding your soaked underwear under your skirt, circling your puffy clit through the slick fabric.
“You’re so wet for me baby, bet Hyunjin could never have this effect on you. Gonna fuck you so good you'll forget he exists’’ his words making you tingle, his fingers exactly where you need them.
‘’Only want you’’ Your voice comes out breathy and fucked out even though he’s barely touched you and it sends a rush of blood to Chan's already rock-solid cock, straining against the tight fabric of his black jeans.
He sinks two fingers into your tight pussy and you scream in pleasure and pain at the intrusion, his fingers so much thicker and longer than yours, the stretch taking your breath away
‘’Yeah be a good girl and take my fingers in that tight little cunt, I know you can’’ The way he whispers as your pussy stretches around his fingers and wet squelches echo through the room has you throwing your head back, Chans other hand finding your tits as he stretches you out for him. You shake as he moves his fingers in and out of you, the stretch now dissolved into intense pleasure. He can tell you're close, your eyes closed in pleasure as you sigh out his name.
‘’cum for me pretty, cum around my fingers’’ You moan his name over and over as he rubs your soaking clit and plunges his fingers into your sopping hole, your back arching in pleasure as he works you through your high. Shouting his name as you cum on his fingers. He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean. The sight alone already making you needy for more
‘’Need you so bad baby, need to feel you milk my cock’’ he breathes out as he undoes his belt, desperate to be inside of you. You spread your sticky thighs, your glistening pussy on full display for him. His cock springs free from its confines, his pink tip leaking down onto the rest of his thick veiny length. It was no surprise he had the prettiest cock you'd ever seen. He gives it a few pumps, slapping your clit with his bulbous tip, and you moan in pleasure at the sting.
‘’Take it, baby. Gonna stretch you out so good, gonna make you mine’’ his voice shaky as he presses into you, your pussy spasming around his hard length splitting you open, he slowly bottoms out with a moan stilling inside you. His cock making your stomach bulge with his size
‘’Fuckfuckfuckkkk you're still so tight, such a perfect pussy’’ his words coming out more like a mantra, the feeling of you around him making him pussydrunk. He fucks in and out of you grabbing your thighs, spreading you wider for him, watching where you’re joined as he takes you.
‘’talk to me baby girl, tell me how I make you feel’’
‘’Love it when you fuck me Channie, love your cock so much’’ your voice strained and whiny, writhing against the sheets as he sets a rough pace. He spits on your pussy, the liquid dripping down to where you meet, the sight only aiding his pleasure.
‘’Bet you thought about this huh? Thought about how good it would feel when I ruin you, hmm baby? Bet you’d touch this little clit thinking about how good I would fuck you?’’ His thrusts become sloppy as he nears his orgasm, his fingers coming to circle your clit. Your moans getting louder as you get close for the second time.
‘’Cum with me baby, wanna cum in this pussy, fill you up with my cum’’ his thrusts getting more erratic and desperate as you orgasm together. You scream his name, your nails digging into his toned back muscles. Chan stills as he spurts his hot release into you, his cum painting your insides a milky white. He collapses onto you, his muscled chest pressed against your fucked out form, both of you breathing heavily.
‘’Fuck you're mine, just mine’’ he whispers, his cock still inside you, both your release leaking out around his still hard dick..
‘’Yeah just yours, Channie’’ you breathe out dreamily, still coming down from your high
You both lay like that for a while, Chan's face tucked into your neck, leaving gentle kisses, his cock stiffening again inside of you, the party coming to an end downstairs. Things had happened so fast you hadn't realised Chan brought you to his own room, the purple lights giving his skin a lilac hue.
‘’Chan. What happens now?” You hesitate not wanting to ruin the moment, praying you didn't just fuck everything up with him with a simple question.
He sighs into your skin snuggling closer ‘’I meant it when I said you're mine y/n, Euna knows she and I are done, she knew I was in love with you. I want this, I want you’’ his voice soft and sleepy.
Your heart nearly explodes, ‘’I love you too Chan, I want you too’’ you kiss him passionately, his tongue fighting yours for dominance, smiling into the kiss as he begins moving inside you again. It feels like a dream and you can't believe he's in love with you too, that he wants you like you want him. Now you have him you'll never let him go, you have always been his, even if he didn't know it.
‘’It's always been you y/n’’
-ty for reading!! Alr working on more hehe
Hey stayblr, I've been thinking of ways we can unite to help Palestine in the current genocide. With Israel closing borders again, no aid is allowed in and local organizations on the ground urgently need our help. So, i thought of rallying to raise donations for Palestine, big or small, as every dollar counts and can truly make a difference.
Initial target : 3000 dollars ✅
‼️ Next Target : 3500 dollars.
To be split between Care for Gaza, UNRWA and Palestine Children’s Relief Fund.
We’ll raise the target goal according to our progress!
update as of 15/06/2024- [10:03 a.m.] : 3107,35 dollars!!
For transparency, donations will be received through my Kofi, with daily updates on our progress. Here are the links to UNRWA’s, Careforgaza’s and PCRF’s work in Gaza!
Palestinians are saying that this is the worst phase of the genocide yet. They need as much of our help as we can give them, so please, let’s all stand together for this.
If you cannot donate
- please reblog and share around!
- stream hind’s hall (all proceeds will be donated to unrwa!
here are the receipts of our 1000$ donation to UNRWA & 1000$ donation to Careforgaza (to their paypal acc)
im waiting for paypal to release the 1k on hold to donate it!
AND OH ITS HARD TO LEAVE YOU, WHEN I GET YOU EVERYWHERE.
"Something We Can Do"-[H.HJ.]
Day 4 of '8 Days of Kinks' : Hand Kink
Pairing : Dom!Hwang Hyunjin x Afab!Reader
Genre : Pure Smut (MDNI)
Warnings : Hand kink, throat fucking (with his fingers), fingering, spit kink, oral fixation
8 Days of Kinks : Day Four - Hyunjin + Hand Kink
Notes : You'll have to forgive me for how short this one is. I'm extremely sick right now and can't really focus so I'm only doing headcanon/scenarios today. Love you guys, looking forward to hopefully feeling better tomorrow. <3
Word Count : ?
@daisykihannie Day 3: Here
!["Something We Can Do"-[H.HJ.]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8b35226a337b1239bdf1486b74eaefd9/146657f79f636c9a-04/s500x750/43693f3118242457072f14a94729e64b0660ff38.png)
!["Something We Can Do"-[H.HJ.]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0466405f5d16607db120b44db1045692/146657f79f636c9a-4e/s500x750/eaa4084015853efea5ac51bc585266a70e6d36b4.png)
!["Something We Can Do"-[H.HJ.]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1337e9b48f1d521d76395ee1af5fcc38/146657f79f636c9a-d8/s500x750/9f89193d28f2ce131e33236ab8d5ffa582eb45f4.png)
Hyunjin is definitely the type to notice how much you look at his hands; At how long his fingers are, how they're so delicate and careful when he's painting but how aggressive and tight they become when he's running through choreography with the group.
He's also the type to use it against you.
Will corner you in the practice room when the group is packing up to leave, happy you'd come to cheer them on quietly and film for them so they could overlook their hard work and what they needed to fix - but also so curious as to why you were staring at his hands and arms the entire time. Was this what happened when he wore a tank top around you?
"Got something to say?"
Pulls on his necklace with his fingers, wrapping the thin chain around them and unwinding it to redo it all over again as you fumble for an answer. He sighs out and rolls his shoulders back, head tipping as he watches you finally spit out that you just think he's attractive.
"What exactly about me do you find attractive?"
He is pretty sure he knows - but he wants to hear you say it.
When you don't answer, don't give him what he wants because you're too shy, he grips your jaw with one hand and makes you tip your head to look at him. "Come on, give me an answer."
You spit out that it's his hands you like - How pretty they are and how you're jealous he's got such gorgeous hands. He might laugh a little and joke that you need to take a look at Jeongin sometime, but then feels a small ping of jealousy rage through his chest at his own dumbass joke.
He hums out, index finger tapping at your lower lip. "Open."
You comply, lips slowly parting and eyes darting up to stare at him as he leans in closer. His fingertips trails over the shape of your lips before he spits right in your mouth, watching it gather on your tongue as you gasp.
"Stay," He demands, watching as you move to swallow. He slips two fingers into your mouth before you can close it, using his free hand on your shoulder to push you to your knees against the wall. He pushes the spit puddling in your mouth towards your throat, watching you whine and gasp and wriggle as he fucks your throat with his fingers.
Hyunjin stares down at you. He admires the way you take it without complaint, thighs pressing together and head tipping back as he forces his fingers deeper into your throat to make you choke. He pulls back after a moment and wipes his hand over your cheek, spit sliding against your skin. He huffs and slowly sinks to his knees as well, caging you once again in the corner.
He falls in love with the way your back arches up into his touch as if you're chasing his palm. He lets his hand glide down over your chest, cupping just beneath your breasts before grasping at your waist and trailing lower.
He'll slip his hand right down into your sweats and into your underwear, fingers brushing over your clit in tight circles to get you gasping - before he's already dipping two fingers into your cunt and watching you squirm.
He feels like maybe he should've stripped you - maybe let you see his hand plunging into your pussy so you get it through your head that he's the one doing this - not anyone else, not Jeongin. But then he cares less when you're moaning and writhing just from watching his wrist disappearing into your waistband.
He glances up to watch your expressions, the way your nose crinkles and your eyes close as you squirm on his fingers. "Feel good, pretty?" He asks, biting his lip and smirking at your eager nod.
"Yes-- Yes, Yes-" You choke, reeling forward when his fingertips curl over a certain soft spot nestled along your walls.
Now, he can't have you moving so much. How is he supposed to fuck you proper with you squirming like this?
So he uses his free hand and - accidentally - snaps you back against the wall. His fingers lock around your throat and squeeze just enough to hold you still, pinning your upper back to the mirror behind you.
"Come on, baby. Come on my fingers." He growls, leaning in to steal a kiss from your lips. He listens to you moan and cry against his mouth, swallowing your sounds in an attempt to keep you at least a little bit quiet in the practice room.
He's content when he feels your pussy tightening down on him, gushing over his skin and letting it leak down into his palms. He tugs his hand free and licks the juices right off of himself, sucking on his fingers right in front of you so you have to watch where he still holds you.
Hyunjin hums in content when your eyes remained locked on his.
But then they dart aside, past him, and he turns to look over his shoulder at Jeongin who stands in the doorway, his phone laying on the counter, bag slung over his shoulder, and rock hard in his poor shorts.
Hyunjin huffs out, the jealousy from before barely pooling as he listens to your heavy breathing and contemplates. He looks to you, then back to Jeongin, before gesturing with two fingers for the younger man to come over.
"C'mere, You wanna be included? I think I know something we can do to 'em."
After Hours | 1
-> You keep coincidentally running into your supervisor after work hours. It's getting harder and harder not to flirt with him...especially since he can't seem to stop flirting back.
supervisor!Jisung x office worker!fem!reader
office!au, low-key secret dating, low-key forbidden love, fluff, slight angst, suggestive (let's not kid ourselves)
2.7K
warnings: creepy behavior makes Jisung feel uncomfortable but reader is there to save the day, cursing, mild dirty thoughts (they get worse just wait), really bad flirting not sorry, kdrama cringe bc I'm the author and I can
After Hours navigation
Feedback is greatly appreciated bc honestly I'm still writing the storyline and I need a little inspiration <3
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Coffee is, perhaps, the most important sustenance in existence. From an early age, you remember being introduced to your first love. The smell, the bitterness, the warmth. It's one of the only things that can make you happy when you have to get out in such disgusting weather.
The sky has been crying for hours. Cars drive through puddles, splashing the sidewalk while street drains continue to sing off-key. You manage to escape into the coffee shop just in time to miss a roar of thunder.
It's unexpectedly crowded today. You lean to the side to get a better look at how long the line is. With a sigh, you settle in for an uncomfortably long wait. You're not the only one who loves coffee on rainy days apparently.
It is unfortunate that this rainy day happens to be the first day of your new job. And since you are particularly excited for this job, you really don't want to be late. A good first impression is everything after all.
The chimes on the door ring out again, signaling someone new has entered the shop, earning your attention for a brief glance over your shoulder.
In he trots, the clumsiest man you've ever seen in your entire life. He trips over the threshold trying to beat the rain and almost falls flat on his face. No umbrella, a mumbled curse under his breath, and the hood of his rain jacket dripping onto the floor. He shakes his shoes off, hissing a shiver.
Although you can't see his face from this angle, he begins carefully scanning the coffee shop. If he's trying to be inconspicuous, it's not working very well. His every movement is like a cartoon character.
Where did this clown come from? Is it his first day walking or--
"Oh, damn," you slap a hand over your mouth because that was not meant to be out loud.
But the 'oh damn' still stand because what the actual fuck? The moment he removes his hood, everything changes.
There's an instant attraction you simply can't deny, even if you tried. If someone took your type on paper and manifested it into a single guy, it would be him.
You quickly revert your attention, realizing immediately that the line has in fact moved up without you in the time you spent gawking at a stranger.
His skin reminds you of a sweet caramel macchiato, but his eyes make you crave black dark roast coffee. His lips glisten from the rain, as if nature herself was so enamoured she had to pause to kiss them. His hair is perfectly messy but also styled to compliment his duality that makes you think babygirl, but also you would like him to push you against the wall, please. His shoulders relax as he makes his way to the line.
He stands behind you now, hands in his pockets, jacket open, and a pleasant hum on his lips. You don't recognize the song, but it sparks a curiosity within you. Does he hum a lot? When he's waiting in line for places or cleaning his apartment? It's a cute quirk, one you wouldn't mind tolerating if you were to ever be around it for an extended period of time.
You're such a hopeless romantic. Grow up.
The gentleman in front of you must be getting impatient. He huffs at the wait, turns around, and trudges off, knocking into you on his way because basic manners don't apply to him clearly.
"Oof--!" You stumble backwards. And if it hadn't been for the water on the floor, you might have survived. But you end up tragically slipping and falling into the arms of the customer right behind you.
Looking up, you're face to face with him now. His arms cling around your shoulders while your back has crashed into his chest. He looks surprised but not upset.
He smiles down at you, charmed and amused. "Are you okay?"
Despite being stunned by both the suddenness of the moment and his beauty, you pull yourself together and stand up on your own.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm so sorry, that was an accident."
"Don't worry about it. That guy bumped into you pretty hard. I would have fallen too."
"Well, thank you for catching me," you reply sweetly, brushing yourself off.
"Anytime. Wouldn't want you falling into the wrong arms."
Hold up...did this dude just drop a line on you? Wait a second, look closer.
A half smirk, puffed chest, lifted chin, soft eyes, bitten lip. Based on your extensive experience reading romance novels...he's flirting with you!?
This is no time to get flustered so easily. Oh, but something else is lit under your skin at the notion of his confident body language and adorable dimples -- the growing desire to flirt back and make him stutter.
"Thank you for your generosity and willingness..."
"Jisung."
"Jisung..." his name sounds cute in your voice, "I can be pretty clumsy."
"Me too."
"Yeah, I know," you stiffle a laugh, "I saw you come in earlier."
"Oh," he facepalms into his hand, a regretful groan coming from his chest. "You saw that?"
"Mhm," you nod cutely.
"Well, I guess the jig is up. I can deny it no longer." He takes a bow. "I am a klutz."
Even if it's not that funny, whatever he says makes you laugh. The way his eyes communicate, causing a rush of endorphins and giggles to bubble up inside you. You're completely smitten after only a few minutes.
There's just something about him.
The line moves up periodically, so you scoot your way forward every few minutes. Jisung takes the opportunity to inch his way closer until he's practically standing next to you in line. You don't mind. He gives off a warmth and spiciness you'd like to explore more of.
"Well, Klutz, I should warn you," you say, and Jisung tilts his head at the nickname, "most people don't find it easy to keep up with me."
"Good thing I like a challenge. Who knows..."
"___."
He pauses for a moment, seemingly to process your name, eyes glazing over as if enchanted. Wouldn't it be nice if he was that starstruck by simply your name? Whatever is going through his head, there's a spark behind his eyes, and the mention of your name only made it brighter.
"___," he smiles and continues, "I might just surprise you."
"You really think you can?"
"I caught you once, didn't I?"
"Yes, but one could argue that was just a coincidence."
His voice lowers, playful and knowing, as if daring you to deny it, "A pretty damn good coincidence if you ask me."
There's not many moments his gaze is elsewhere. He keeps his attention locked on you, your attitude, your comebacks, your eyes. Goddamn, your eyes. They make him hesitate, but...he doesn't want to miss the immense possibility hidden behind them.
There's just something about you.
Then something else rudely catches his attention as you approach the front of the line.
“Oh, shit.”
“What?”
“Nothing." He plays off his sudden nervousness with a hand behind his head and a chuckle.
"You said oh shit for nothing?”
You two barely know each other, but somehow he knows you're not about to let this go. And it's easier to just fess up what's wrong instead of playing dumb.
“That barista," he gestures with a head nod. The one behind the register taking everyone's order. The one about to take your order.
“What about her?” You look back and forth, examining his drastic change in body language. “Does she make you uncomfortable?”
“She…wants me.”
“She wants you?”
"Hey, don't be jealous, ___," he chides with a sassy click of his tongue.
“I'm not jealous," you insist, rolling your eyes, "I'm just surprised.”
“You're surprised someone wants me?"
"I didn't mean--"
"Brutal."
“Come on, you know that's not what I meant!"
“I'm not making this easy on you, am I?”
“You're really not," you laugh as you give his shoulder a playful shove.
“Sorry," he apologizes while pretending your push did literally anything.
“Okay, but what's her deal?”
He shakes his head as if bamboozled by the whole thing, a disgusted taste in his mouth as his expression twists and frowns. “She just always flirts with me and it's weird. Last time she said something pretty inappropriate…”
“It must have really bothered you.”
The girl at the register lifts her hand. "I can take whoever's next, please."
“You know what, I don't really need to buy coffee," Jisung says quickly, holding a hand out to shake yours goodbye. "There's coffee at my office anyway. It was really nice to meet you, ___. I hope I catch you again sometime soon?"
“Hold on, you waited in line all this time, and now you're not going to get coffee because of her?”
He just shrugs.
“Uh, no," you say firmly, taking his hand and pulling him with you to the counter. "Come on, we're getting you a coffee.”
He has no choice but to give in, because you're rather cute dragging him along like this, like the two of you are familiar and close. But he's also undeniably nervous. Something feels very wrong about the way the barista eyes him up and down when she sees him.
But something feels very right when you hold his hand.
"Hi," you sing to the girl, "just one second please."
And then you turn to Jisung. Lifting his hand so the barista can clearly see, you interlock your fingers while scanning his features lovingly. "Don't forget, babe, you promised I could pay this time, so get whatever you like. I want to treat my prince right."
Oh, fuck fuck fuck.
You're pretending. This is not a drill. Jisung can't barely breathe when you look at him like that. Mischievous and domestically lighthearted with a hint of sexy expectation.
The most outrageous and yet charming thing you could have possibly done in this moment, and Jisung is struggling to move past the feeling of your nails nonchalantly scratching the back of his hand, like it's habit after holding his hand so many times before. Oh god, the goosebumps aren't going away.
You must be an actress. It's the only thing that makes any sense. Your beauty, grace, off the cuff banter, expressions, not to mention your ability to jump into the scene and play the perfect girlfriend in seconds. Jisung is convinced he's met the next nation's sweetheart, and all he can do is sweat bullets under his jacket and stare into your eyes as if he's stargazing.
He said he could keep up with you. Here's his chance to prove it.
He manages a small, breathless chuckle, "Okay okay. You know I can't refuse that face."
"I know," you proudly reply while hugging his arm, your chest pressed into his side and your lips spread into a wide, victorious smile. "Which is why I use it all the time. I like flustering you."
The whole coffee shop audibly heard the skip in his heartbeat just now.
In the corner of your eye, you can see the barista's smile slowly dying. She's watching you dote and hang all over Jisung with distain. But what bothers her the most is how absolutely spellbound he is by every movement you make, happily mesmerized by your very existence. The way he's looking at you...
"Jisung," she tries to get his attention, "you never mentioned a...who is she?"
"Huh?" He finally tears his eyes off of you for a mere moment, but then they're glued to you once again. "Oh, this is ___. My girlfriend." Saying that out loud felt way too right.
"Girlfriend?" You whine, pausing to shake your head. "I thought you said I'm your soulmate."
"Aw, baby, I'm sorry," he cups your cheek and matches your pout, "of course, you're my soulmate. It was a slip of the tongue. Forgive me?"
You nod happily and boop his nose. "Forgiven." The flush of pink that spreads to his ears definitely isn't pretend.
"Umm," the barista smacks her gum, "I thought you said you were single."
"I was," he sighs, doing his best to play along without getting too caught up in the role. "But then I met ___. And everything changed."
She eyes you up and down with a distasteful frown.
"You could do better."
There's a short silence while the two of you try to figure out where she found the audacity. The only sound is the barista's foot tapping on the floor, a most rhythmic and detestable thump.
While your heart dramatically sinks into your stomach.
"I'll take a caramel macchiato," you finally break the silence, "what do you want, babe?"
"You don't know his order?" The barista cuts in with a scoff. "How can you be his girlfriend and not know his coffee order? Looks like I know Jisung better than you do, huh?" She flips on the sweetie pie act again when she turns to him. "I'll make your usual--"
"I'll take a caramel macchiato as well. And an apology."
"Oh, umm sorry--"
"Not to me." His hand tightens around yours. "To ___."
"What?"
He doesn't repeat himself. The barista can't hardly believe he's serious. But he doesn't back down or make light of what he demanded. You look a little caught-in-headlights as well, unsure of what to do exactly. If anyone should be apologized to, it's Jisung. He's the one the barista has been borderline harassing every time he tries to get coffee here.
And yet Jisung is more concerned about the fact that she made one, minor comment about you not being good enough for him. And who knows, maybe you're not! You just met today and you're not even his real girlfriend!
She clenches her jaw, unwavering eye contact with Jisung as she grunts through her teeth, "Sorry."
Not exactly a satisfactory apology, but at least she won't be bothering Jisung anymore. And you're more than willing to stop by with him a few more times to make sure the story sells and this barista bitch stays in her lane.
You tap your card to pay, grab your coffees, and head for the door.
You gather your umbrella. Jisung pulls his hood over his head. Out the door you go. As soon as your out of ear shot, the two of you can't keep your laughs in any longer.
"Did you see her face when she apologized!? Oh my god, you never get caramel macchiatos, do you?"
"Absolutely never," he giggles behind his hand.
"Sorry if that was completely insane. But it's stupid you can't order coffee because some bitch barista can't keep her eyes up. I know you probably felt weird."
"No, it felt right." A pause of held breaths and fluttering eyelids, and then Jisung scrambles to add, "I mean, it worked, didn't it?"
"Like a charm," you respond, still flabbergasted at the moment.
"That soulmate shit was priceless by the way." Jisung narrows his eyes at you, a teasing suspicion on the tip of his tongue. "You're a real hopeless romantic, aren't you?"
"You're the one who cupped my face and called me baby. If anyone is the hopeless romantic, it's you."
He can't argue against that. Jisung is indeed a hopeless romantic at heart.
"Seriously, thank you so much for not letting me leave. I'll pay you back for this, promise. Anything you want."
"Anything?"
"Name it and it's yours."
"Your number?"
Where this confidence came from you're not entirely sure, but the way his smile lights up like fireworks at your request feels brand new. He quickly corrects his giddiness with a sip of coffee and a shrug.
"I guess that's a reasonable request."
With his number in your phone and the hour ticking by, you exchange glances through the rain. Shy eye contact and hesitating feet. Neither of you want to leave, although it's definitely time to get going, and it's painfully obvious.
"Which way are you headed?"
"Towards City Center."
"Oh, me too! We can walk together. If you'd like?"
"Yeah," you take his arm, coffee in one hand while he holds your umbrella in the other, "I'd like that. Klutz."
"Uh, is that nickname gonna be a thing?"
"I don't know yet. Why?"
"I liked babe better."
Yeah, well that makes two of you. But calling him babe feels a bit too natural for you to be so shamelessly and carelessly throwing it into the mix. But maybe you let it slip a few times while you're walking, you know, accidentally. And maybe you really enjoy seeing the corner of his lips turn up each time you do.
Banter and flirting fly free between the two of you, never once feeling awkward or scary. It's so rare something like this comes along in your life. An instant click like this needs to be protected, cherished. The more you listen to Jisung talk, the more you're convinced he's supposed to be someone special to you.
"This is me." He stops at the doors to a large glass building, the rain still coming down decently hard on your umbrella above your heads.
You look at the building with sad eyes, knowing that unless something crazy happens in the next ten seconds, this magical happenstance of meeting him will--
Hold on.
"Does that sign say Mindy&Mindy Consulting?"
Jisung slowly nods. "Yes. This is my work. Why?"
"I'm starting here today."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm the newest hire for the financial services department."
"Wait," Jisung blinks, "you're the new hire?"
"You know about me?"
"Of course, I do," he says. "I'm the department's Senior Consultant."
"You're the...so that means..."
Any and all confusion morphs as his eyebrows lift and his jaw drops in realization. It hits you both at the same time, a reality bomb just dropped on your little flirty fantasy.
"You're my boss."
::
AH taglist: @nightmarenyxx @cherriive @cepheus3 @strawberriesoup @kayleefriedchicken @hannamoon143 @0omillo0 @fly-you-dam-fools @urlocalmultigroupfan @inlovewithstraykids @felixleftchickennugget @notastraykid @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @lorialia @staybabblingbaby @comicalivy @www-hanverse @dearbisky @hannieslittlerockstar @feetoffthemalfoy @estella-novella @justastraymoa @hityoulikebahng
<3
Elysian || 18+
Synopsis: you never wanted to fall for the only son of the family yours hated. And yet you did.
Pairings: Mafia boss!Hyunjin × fem!reader
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, mentions of dagger, kind of knife play?, P in v sex, fingering, angst, fluff, forbiddened love, mafia boss au, mention of poison, blood, food and alcohol, reader wears a dress, implied mental abuse, fluffy at the end but it's really angsty in the middle sorry yall
A/N: ahhh this took a lot of time to write because I wanted everything to be PERFECT. and in my opinion this is the best shit I've ever written Mona 2am brain go burr. Also this is dedicated to my beloved @astraystayyh and Hyunjin's photoshoots which have made me go feral approximately 143 times
Red.
You remembered it as a hibiscus, decorating the gardens of your family's estate as child. You remembered it as the ugly hue of your grandmother's rug, the only thing you'd fixate on whenever the stench of blood filled your nose. You remembered it as your family's emblem, in a kingdom of money and roses and whatnot. You remembered red as death.
But you never thought you would have remembered red as the colour which outlined the shadows of the painting in front you.
You never though red would remind you of one of your most favourite persons ever, of his plump pink lips and gorgeous waterfall of hair you would decorate with rose petals anyday.
You never thought red would remind you of Hwang Hyunjin.
Red, as the multifaceted colour it is, fascinated you. It was like an idea in your head, hard to drive out, impossible to kill. What was red truly? What shades did it hide?
Red as a ladybug or red as a lobster? Red as a tulip or red as red as a new bride's cheeks? Red as lipstick or red as a gown? Red as roses or red as blood?
Red as the dominating colour of Hyunjin's palette was the correct answer to you most of the time.
You could recall the first time you had ever met him. Five months ago or had it been a year? You didn't remember much, just the fact that Hwang Hyunjin saved you, the 'enemy' from a bullet wound when he could have let you rot and made his family proud. The Hwangs were nefarious for their merciless behaviour, and yet you found in Hyunjin, a different kind of warmer mercy.
A mercy which you preferred because no one else gave it to you.
And that was how you found comfort in Hyunjin, a sense of familiarity that made you believe that you could be your true self with him and not just another painted version of you. Granted, he did paint you, in various shades of golds, violets and reds.
Painstaking as they were, you loved your short lived secret sessions with him. He was like a thief, quietly sneaking in through a window, and stealing away your heart with his demeanor.
Both of you came from families who despised each other, there was a certain Romeo-Juliet element to it all that both amused and frightened you.
But no matter what thing troubled you, you always had your memories with him to come back to. Especially those soft tender moments when you realised how much you craved a normal life away from the money and the blood.
You remembered one moment better than most others. It was the first time you said the poisonous word. It was that time in Italy...or was it Belgium? All you seemed to actually recall was the time you first walked into the love which Hyunjin gave you.
Dark chocolate eyes flickered over your naked body as it sunk beneath warm water, a bottle of liquid soap shone a bit in the candlelight as Hyunjin poured it into your tub. His ethereal figure was like a God in the pale moonlight coming from the tiny window.
“Just a little something extra to provide you some… relief,” he smiled, dipping his elegant hand into the waters to stir it around.
Hyunjin knew you were an assassin, carefully molded into one by your family, nevertheless he saw more than what he was supposed to. He saw you as a human instead. A human who was tired of all the blood she had spilt.
Your body easing into the water, you barely noticed the ripples of Hyunjin slipping his carved body beside you. It barely registered, his arm wrapping around you, the warm water pouring down your neck to rinse off the blood, the trickles that run down your face as he wets your hair and washed it clean of sweat and more.
You couldn't remember the last time you had felt like this, so relaxed so taken care of. So you said it, you said the word without a moment's waste.
"I love you" you had blurted out without a second thought, "I love you, Hwang Hyunjin." The name mattered to you in ways you hadn't ever fathomed before.
And the worst thing was he said it back. With a kiss to imprint it.
And now here you were, eyes flickering between the ceiling and each other. The warm light of the massive ballroom shone its glory onto you as you clutched your champagne tight to your bosom, making sure to distract yourself with it, whenever your stolen glances at Hyunjin were caught by someone.
You hadn't been forced to attend the ball by any means by your family, in fact you volunteered for it. You had waited eagerly for your target's name, your mother stressed that it was an important one, and as the quietest daughter it would have been easy for you to kill in plain sight and prove once and for all to your father that you were ready to take over as the heir to his 'buisness'. Maybe you'd finally have the fame and the power you craved off as a child, like some starved deer eating its own kind.
But now, you clutched the tiny vile of hemlock close to your hip, carefully dropping it into your pocket, all the while staring at Hyunjin across the room, who was laughing with someone you recognised as a painter Hyunjin adored. His raucous yet polite laughter, gorgeous strands of hair framing his face, your heart sobbed at the thought of slipping poison into his veins.
If you had even a modicum of respect for your own head, maybe you would have sneaked the hemlock into his drink at the slightest moment. Unfortunately though, you didn't and so it came to be that you resorted to dissecting a serene painting until hopefully Hyunjin ultimately noticed you.
The painting fascinated you, it was one you hadn't ever seen before. Dark blue traced the outlines two people, with grey hair and wisened foreheads, holding hands through a rough brown canvas. You smiled at the painting before taking a sip of your champagne. Love, eternally, was one of Hyunjin's most beloved topics to waste all his blue paint on.
Words rushed through your mind as your eyes traced each brushstroke. Whips of harsh sentences and scenes of conversations, contrasting the soft daubs of paint, flashed in front of your eyes.
'The Parks? Mum I can't do that!'
'You want to be useful to this family? Marry him and you'll be more than useful'
'But Mum...!'
'You think you have a say in this? Shut up and do what's good for that useless head of yours'
"Admiring my work, my love?"
You flinched slightly at the different voice, which sounded like spring rain and lily pads. Spinning on your heel to face the source of the voice, you found yourself melting into a pair of beautiful eyes, the kind of eyes that made thieves wonder why they ever bothered to steal pieces of art. His eyes—the color of an intoxicating champagne—beckoned you over with nothing more than a warm smile.
"What?" Hyunjin chuckled, seeing you stare at him, "Did I get fondue on my lips again?"
"No, just..." You trailed off, not finding the correct words, "You look good."
"As you do, my sweet." Hyunjin's hand took yours and brought it up to his lips, "God, I wish I could paint you right here."
"Hyunjin," you gave him a playful look, unsure of whether or not it was hiding your fright, what if someone saw?
Hyunjin's arms went to your waist, pulling you closer to him, which felt like syrup wafting through the air, sweet with a touch of familiarity. He leaned in, you felt his hot breath on your neck as he whispered, "None of your family or their spies are here don't worry."
You took in a shaky breath, as you felt his long, dainty fingers reaching up your thigh, fiddling with something strapped tightly to it. Hyunjin smiled into your neck, as he continued to fiddle with the leather.
"That's how they plan to kill me?" He chuckled, "With a dagger strapped to the ravishing thigh of the love of my life?"
"That's just Plan B." You whispered, shoving his hand off gently, as your eye caught a waiter in the corner glancing at you and Hyunjin, "Just in case the hemlock doesn't work."
"Willing to test that theory?" Hyunjin stepped away from you, leaving your body colder than you wished. His cocky smile, his raised brow and relaxed demeanour, he was like a like a cat lounging in a garden, at peace with watching the world pass on.
"In front of everyone?" You questioned, "don't tell me the only son of the Hwangs is becoming soft for someone like me."
Hyunjin's mouth stretched lazily as he grinned at you, extending a hand for you to take.
"Let's go somewhere private?" He asked, not giving you time to answer as he basically dragged you across the hall, where magnificent stairs led to the upper floors of the luxurious mansion. Gossiping eyes followed your movements, well, more precisely, Hyunjin's movements, as he led you up the stairs, making sure not to step on your tartine dress, as you carried the fabric behind you with regal grace.
"Now," Hyunjin smirked as you climbed onto the last step, now well hidden from the party downstairs, "Shall we?" And he broke into a run, dragging you behind him, giggling maniacally like a child in the summer. You were sure you heard your dress rip, but you had not a care as you ran with Hyunjin down the corridor, to the last door, his bedroom. The walls of the corridors were lined with paintings, Hyunjin's evidently, fading edges of canvases standing out against the ruby of the wall paint and the carpeted floor. You recognised each and every painting. A painting of a woman amongst daffodils, another of the same woman in an abandoned mansion which Hyunjin had always told you would be that women's one day. The day he married that woman to be specific.
'The woman in my dreams', Hyunjin told his family when they asked him who she was. 'The woman in my dreams', Hyunjin told his patrons when they asked who she was. 'You', Hyunjin told you when you asked, though you knew, but you still questioned him, in between chaste kisses on the neck and giggles. Hyunjin came to a halt in front of the oak carved door, a tiny metal label on top spelling his name in cursive letters.
"How about we put that dagger to use then?" Hyunjin pressed your back against the door in no time, devouring your being as he tasted the honey of your elysian lips. His hands went again, to your thigh, fumbling to take the dagger out, but you were quicker in your actions. Your hand had been resting on the door's handle, and as you tugged on it, both of you fell back into the room, lips never wanting to leave each other's company.
"Jinnie," you made a sound of pleasure as you pulled away from him, suddenly aware of the audible music coming from downstairs, "Maybe not now."
"Come now love," Hyunjin laughed, striding into the room, where painting supplies lay cluttered next to a pristinely made bed, "Don't say that after we escaped from the prying eyes of everyone downstairs."
"Hyunjin," you looked at him with reprimanding eyes, how could you tell him the actual reason? "Don't you think it'd be suspicious to my family if I return today with messed up hair and a torn silken dress after merely slipping poison into someone's champagne?" How could you tell him to make you stop falling more for him? "This shit is expensive you know."
"Would it not be more dangerous if you were to return without killing the Hwang family's brightest hope?" Hyunjin's voice, though low, spoke it's volume, as he removed his coat, throwing it onto an empty chair.
Locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, you inched toward Hyunjin, a silent plea lingering in the air. As your fingers tightened around his hair, a palpable tension filled the space between you.
His ethereal eyes held yours, revealing a tumult of unspoken struggles and desires. Your gaze shifted to his lips—slightly chapped yet irresistibly inviting.
Without even a moment of hesitation, you kissed him.
Hyunjin's initial surprise melted into a shared passion, and for a moment, the world around you faded. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. As the intensity deepened, you let go of his soft hair, your hands finding their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer.
He tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin. He pulled away slightly, breath mingling with yours, lips lingering, an anguished pause in the silent night.
"so pretty..." he mutters, taking in the sight of your body.
Hyunjin's lips attach to your skin, leaving deep marks of love all over which wouldn't go away for days now. You stifled your moan, as his lips sucked on your collarbone, you could feel his erection pressing through his pants to your core, making you accidentally whimper.
Hyunjin's ringed hands made their way up your right thigh, the slit in your dress allowing him to caress the soft skin, the cold metal of the ruby created dagger hitting his skin like soft cotton to a wound.
He couldn't explain how attractive it was to him, the carved golden hilt, the blood red jewel in the centre, and the carefully shaped blade of the dagger, decorating his most favourite muse. You were a painting come to life for him.
You were his painting, his magnum opus, a canvas as precious as an angel's wing.
Your mind, on the other hand, was racing at a hundred miles per the hour. How could you tell him? How could you tell him the truth he'd always known? That your love was one the stars crossed each other to find?
You draw him into another uncertain kiss, this one your confused mind didn't think much about, and trailed a hand up the smooth skin of his exposed chest. Hyunjin signs into your mouth and runs both his hands down your sides, pausing to squeeze your thigh, and the cold blade pressed against your skin again.
“My love, that was by far one of the most sexy things I’ve ever seen.” Voice low and seductive, your lips barely pulling away from him. "I really can't believe you chose this one out of all. You know it's my gift don't you?"
"Hyunjin..." You trailed off, impatiently pulling away from his lips, "we shouldn't, we really shouldn't."
"Why not love?" Hyunjin's lips pressed against yours again morphing into a gentler kiss, he was evidently trying to calm you down.
"Hyunjin please don't." You begged with him, as if you were begging for your mind to stop itself before you went too far. You had to stop falling for him before it was too late. And yet how could you?
"Princess-" Hyunjin began before looking at you with worried eyes, "You're scaring me what's wrong? You can talk to me."
"What's wrong is we shouldn't be doing this." You tried to feign disgust, but all that came out was pathetic love for Hyunjin, 'Don't let me fall in love again' was what you had meant to say.
"Princess—"
"No!" You all as but screamed, forgetting that you were currently above a party filled with guns and roses, Hyunjin stood shocked in front of you at your sudden outburst, the air around you stilled, as words came out like vomit.
"listen, I am to get married to the Park family's eldest son, and if anyone, anyone, finds out about this," you stopped and took in a breath, "we're dead, Hyunjin, both of us! Or worse shit I can't even fathom to think about!" You took a breath at every word, stressing each note like a violin's vibrato, "And I'd really fucking take this poison myself rather than living in a world where everything tries to stop us from being together. So, please Hyunjin," your eyes held whispers of pained love, "Don't let me fall into this depth of love, because I just know I can never climb out."
The silence that overtook the room was heavy, heavier than you would have liked. You could have endured bullet heads, burn marks, fractures, but this was the greatest wound of all. The greatest pain you'd endured was the one you had always been deprived of.
Love, had it always been such a sin?
Your head felt dizzy as you say down on the bed, letting the soft material of the cover sink in. The dagger round your thigh and the air round your being felt tighter. You felt as if you could have drawn oceans of blood at that moment.
"Love," his voice echoed through your entire being, "look at me.
Your head turned to look up at him, as his hands quickly straddled you onto his lap, one of them squeezing your right thigh, eliciting a quiet moan out of you.
You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The ethereal, devilish angel, Hwang Hyunjin had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.
"Hyunjin I-"
"I don't care what or who comes in our way. You, my dearest, are mine, and mine alone." Hyunjin growled into your ear, his anger would never seep through to you but on certain occasions it would certainly scare you, the way his anger was cold as an icicle, rather than fiery like a volcano.
A groan rumbles through Hyunjin's chest, and he dips down to give a playful bite to your bottom lip, earning a squeak you will deny if asked about later.
One of his hands moves down to delicately play with your breast, kneading softly before pinching your nipple between his finger and thumb. You break the kiss with a breathless gasp, tugging at Hyunjin’s roots, forcing a ragged groan from him. Hyunjin wastes no time to pepper kisses down the column of your neck. He pushed the hair out of his eyes before he grabbed you by the waist and rubbed his cock up against you. He could feel heat settle in his body as his cock throbbed for you. He wanted you, he needed you more than he needed air. And he was more than willing to let you know that.
Stripping off your clothes and throwing it to the side, Hyunjin climbed up the bed and grabbed your hand on the way, hauling you under him. He wasted no time in lining himself up with you, throwing his head back in a groan as your pussy enveloped him.
Hyunjin groaned through grit teeth as he pushed his cock into you. You tensed and he groaned louder, he held onto the bed under you and moved all the way inside of you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tightly as he started to thrust. You moaned into his skin as he moved against you.
His mouth went to your neck, leaving dark scars there. His teeth hit the ruby of your necklace, as he took it in his mouth and tugged at it, making you gasp loudly.
Your body felt numb but in a pleasurable way. You could only lie there and accept all the pleasure that he was giving you. He kissed your soft face, he could feel your racing heartbeat under your skin. His face went back to your neck where he left more bruises on the flesh. He felt heat through his body as the pleasure coursed through his veins. It was arousing, he couldn’t deny what he was feeling.
"You're mine." Hyunjin growled through a symphony of soft sighs, "I will never let anything get in between us, alright?"
The only response he got was a pleasured moan escaping from your lips, but he took it. He took pride in the way he could make you feel like this.
Your head fills with pleasures, not a single thought could form in your head. “Fuck you feel so good doll” he groans holding your hips down and slamming deeper inside you. “G-god Hyunjin! Feels…s-so good!” You cry.
Your eyes begin to roll back feeling how good he felt. His tip hitting your G-spot making you ready to cum just as fast as before. “H-Hyune fuck I’m gonna c-“ you are interrupted by his hand gripping your throat, choking you.
“Fuck baby you got wetter just from that… god you're so good” his mixture of degradation and praise had your body a dripping, desperate mess. You couldn’t believe the hold he had over you.
His breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. His tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”
“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the bed with the sheer snap of his hips. Your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.
He felt you trembling hard, pulsing around his cock as you got close to cumming. He works himself deeper inside you, stroking all the places you need to reach that high point. A few more thrusts and you burst. You gush around him with a long whine.
You squirm and buck as he holds you in place and keeps rutting into you until it becomes too much for him. He also lets loose and shoots his cum inside you. He fucks it into you a bit, before slowly pulling out.
Slightly panting and out of breath, Hyunjin's figure could be seen gracefully outlined by the moon's tears penetrating through the tall, stained windows. He gets up and fetches a towel, gently cleaning you up as your eyes flickered between sleep and consciousness.
"Are you alright, love?" He questioned you, his fingers tracing shapes on your hips as he layed down beside you again, clearly not in the mood for wearing his clothes. Neither were you, so you turned your body towards him, allowing him to wrap you into the cocoon of his warm muscles. Laying your head on his chest, you felt his hand, once again, reaching for your thigh.
"You really do like that dagger don't you?" You laughed, as he caressed the metal.
"You should wear it more often, maybe for a painting?" Hyunjin's suggested, a smile like the air after rain, fresh with the stench of earth and dew, imprinted on his face.
"Hyunjin I-", you began, taking a breath before continuing, "What about—about my family?"
You swore you could have heard Hyunjin gently scoff, but you ignored it as he brought you closer to him, the space in between you practically empty.
"Stay here for tonight." Hyunjin said, "and if they come in search of their 'beloved' daughter," he scoffed once again, muttering a curse underneath his breath, "I'll tell them I stole her away from her tower."
"More like stole her dagger away." You giggled, finding his obsession with the strap on your thigh amusing. Hyunjin merely smiled at that, and silence fell again.
"Y/N?"
"Hm?"
"I love you."
Red wasn't that bad of a colour after all. Not when it reminded you of Hyunjin, not when it reminded you of secret kisses and poisoned paintings, and certainly not when it reminded you of love.
"I love you too, Hyunjin."
L O S E R [HJS]
![L O S E R [HJS]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c04f15673bcbcdf7aee95d5b0de0373d/59cfa8cb896c8f8a-40/s500x750/6bb6d96aae364bd0e51bd3517630cc65b441da6a.png)
♫ Pairing: Han Jisung × Reader [F] ♫ Summary: His father disapproves of his life choices, and it subsequently causes a rift between the two of them. Jisung only has one person he feels he can rely on, his best friend. With hopes of becoming one of the biggest rockstars that ever lived, he embarks on a journey to fulfill his life dreams. Will he make his dreams come true with his friend by his side, or will he even sacrifice friendship to live out his fantasy's? ♪ WC: 19.7k [READING TIME: 40-60 MINS] ♪ AU: Highschool, Rockstar ♪ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff (adjacent), Friends to (??) ♪ Nets: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society ♫ A.N: I started writing this over a year ago (Nov 2023) and I've been writing on it little by little since then. When the "Hold My Hand" mv came out, I got burst of inspiration I needed to finish this. I took a while to finish, but it's here. This has not been proofread. Please reblog and leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Special thanks to @therhythmafterthesummer thanks for rooting for me with this one. I don't think I could have finished it without your encouragement. Dividers by @saradika-graphics ♫ Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction. ♫ Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Unprotected sex (Be safe and wrap it up. This is fiction, a controlled narrative. I make the rules. Life isn't that simple, so be safe), creampie (semi), cum shot, slight degradation (male receiving), slight femdom/sub (male) dynamics, choking, cum play, cum eating, spiting, hair pulling (male receiving). Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. This chapter contains use of explicit language.
Loser, 외톨이, 센 척하는 겁쟁이 못된 양아치, 거울 속의 넌 Just a loser, 외톨이, 상처뿐인 머저리 더러운 쓰레기, 거울 속의 난, I'm a...
![L O S E R [HJS]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b75efd6e1f7a76afcc44039bddce2edb/59cfa8cb896c8f8a-3f/s500x750/f53b83010e9e9adbbeeec53bbbc3ee65c3a55073.png)
![L O S E R [HJS]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/870ff3ae9b1eedddefcc0a750bc430bd/59cfa8cb896c8f8a-ff/s500x750/9ce103659bab942ecbe62ccb47b2f05ac577902f.png)
The words resounded in the back of Jisung's mind as he continued to feel the kicks and punches from his classmates. See, with him, you either liked him or you didn't. Sadly, there didn't seem to be an in-between. There was no indifference and there didn't seem to be many that liked him, either. He had a handful of acquaintances, but only one good, true friend. She was the light of his life, that and music. In times like this, when he was beaten and battered, cast out, and torn down by the world, he knew that if he just held on, she'd be there.
There to comfort him, there to lift him up, there to hold his hand and tell him that it gets better. That's what he had to hold on to, “it gets better.” The promise of that alone gave him enough hope that he'd get through these tumultuous teenage years and one day look back at this and consider it a learning experience. Just something he could mark off as a growth exercise. At least that's what he hoped. He hoped to turn all the shity life struggles into art. His words, his life, his voice. He refused to be a loser.
Jisung wanted nothing more in life than to play his music for the people who appreciated it. For the most part that meant that he was playing it for a crowd of one, you. But he didn’t mind if the venue wasn’t fancy, or if it was just one person taking in the songs that he performed. Just the look of pure joy on your face from listening to his voice, gave him enough hope that one day he could do this on a larger scale. He just hoped that you would be one of the smiling faces when he looked out at the crowd.
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Prestige, influence, wealth. Was that really something worth betting your life and sanity on? According to his parents it was absolutely worth it. Those things were the reason the Han's were where they were in life and they would bite their tongues and die before ever going back to being poor and worthless. At least that's how his father saw things. “Jisung, you have to listen to your father. All he wants is for you to have a good life. Not waste it away-”
“Id waste away staying here. Mom…” He stopped throwing things in his bag to hold his mothers hands, to look her in the eyes. He wanted her, if no one else in this house, to understand why he had to leave. It wasn't about the constant fights with his father, or even the fact that he just couldn’t and probably would never live up to what his older brother had become. He wasn’t built for the life that his parents had set up for him. It physically pained him to even think of himself trapped in the box of boring, yet successful, that his parents wanted to fit him into.
No, he just felt unfulfilled, dead inside. He was slowly rotting away with every breath he took under the rule of his fathers thumb. “I can't let him dictate what should and should not make me happy. Music is everything to me, you know this. So please, just let me go. You know I can't survive here.” He dropped his head, looking at the floor, “He'll kill everything about me.. until there is no use in being alive.” He had made up his mind. Despite the comfort that being home provided him, he’d rather take his chances out on the streets than endure one more moment trapped inside of this amenity filled mansion.
His mother gasped. Just the thought of her baby not being on this earth anymore, crushed her. She pulled her son into a hug for what might be the last time. “There is money in my purse, take that with you. Okay?” She grabbed his face, taking in her son's features. She caressed his chubby cheeks and placed kisses on both. “I love you. Forever and always.” The front door slammed downstairs, alerting them to his father's arrival. The panic set in on both his and his mothers faces.
Oftentimes Mr. Han seemed like he hated Jisung, his own son, just like he hated people who weren't in the same social economic class as him. They had no drive or ambition according to him, no will to make their life better, to be better. As if people didn’t fall on hard times, or suffer from any mental illnesses, making it hard for them to keep a job. He was a hypocrite. Jisung’s grandfather didn’t keep a steady job for years, and the jobs he had were very low income. He provided for his family as best he could, but apparently people like that were scum to Jisung's father. Being poor and struggling were things that his father had long left behind. Along with things like passion, empathy, and even love.
“HAN JI SUNG! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT.” Jisung's heart quickened with the sound of his fathers angry, booming voice. His anxiety was starting to kick in, his breathing picked up, just as his extremities started to lightly shake. He had to have heard about Jisung's outburst in school today, which resulted in the cops being called to his prestigious catholic high school. With his fathers position in the Mayors office, of course this news made it to him. The police probably went and told him the news themselves. This wasn't going to be good.
“Go out the back, I'll distract him.” She kissed his forehead and headed down the stairs, swiftly. Jisung stuffed all the clothes he could into his duffle, and started out the door, just to stop in his tracks. Next to his bed was a picture of him and his best friend. The one person who could get him through anything. From breakups and heartbreak to bouts of depression, they had been through almost everything together. He grabbed the frame and carefully stuffed it into the bag.
“I know he's here! Move out my way woman!” He pushed past his wife, physically moving the small woman out of his way. Jisung could hear his fathers heavy footsteps as he made his way up the grand staircase in the foyer. Panic began to flow through the young boy's body. Making sure the coast was clear, he headed out into the hall from his room. The nearest exit of sorts was way at the end of the hall, two whole bedrooms and a bathroom away from his little corner room upstairs.
He wasn’t much of a runner, even if he was considered to be quick, but he put all of the techniques he’d learned in physical education to work, sprinting down the hall. He made it to his brother's old room and out onto the balcony. Even though he was deathly afraid of heights, this was his only option, if he wanted to escape. It was fight or flight, and he was sure if he tried to fight his dad he’d die. His dad was filled with rage at the current moment and that did not bode well for Jisung. All he could see over the edge was the garden that bordered the pool.
His mothers pretty array of hibiscus flowers and the cherry blossom tree that sat not far from the window, well manicured and perfect, just like everything else in the Han family’s life. He could hear his father nearing closer, his booming voice filling the large halls and bouncing off the walls, even with the constant pitter patter of his fast beating heart. It was now or never. He closed his eyes, the voice of his best-friend rang through his head, “You can do anything you put your mind to, Ji.” It was like her words gave him wings. That was all the reassurance he needed.
Just as his father burst through the door to his brother's room, Jisung took the leap. He landed on the bushes below with a loud thud. His father's head peaked over the balcony. “You better stay right where you are, young man.” There was a small tinting of something else besides anger and disdain on his fathers face.
But Jisung didn’t have the time to try and decipher it as his father made his way back into his brother’s room. No, if he didn’t want to face whatever was coming his way via his fathers slightly justified anger, he needed to go. Jisung hurried to his feet, running out the back gate of their sprawling mansion grounds, never to look back again.
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“Shit…” He'd been roaming for hours now. The afternoon had turned into evening. The beautiful blue tinted sky shifted into pinks and purples and now it was just pitch black. He had nowhere to go. His feet hurt, his stomach hadn’t stopped grumbling since he got a few miles away from home, and he was terribly tired. Then there also was the fact that he had stupidly left the money his mother wanted him to have, right where she told him it was. He was broke and homeless. Not the best combination at the young age of eighteen. But most had survived worse. At least that's what that weird side of youtube and tik tok said. He was sure he would make it too. At least that's what he hoped.
He walked aimlessly until the streets started to look familiar. The houses were smaller than the ones in his- well his parents neighborhood, but that didn’t make them small. The mini mansions had long curving driveways and tall fences to keep the riff raff out. Well, guess you could say he was the riff raff now.
He was a delinquent with an extensive record. Trespassing, disorderly conduct, disturbing the peace, failure to disperse, affray, unlawful assembly, and resisting arrest, the last two were tacked on today. The other charges had been adding up since his fifteenth birthday. The only reason he was a free man was the simple fact that he was a Han. He knew that, and it ate away at his core.
Well manicured lawns with expensive cars in the park. This was your side of town. Your family was quite well off as well, just in a different way. Building on the wealth that your maternal grandfather had built for your family. Your parents weren’t as power thirsty as his father was. But that wasn’t saying that they didn’t take your future success in life very seriously. They did. Your schedule was often packed to the brim with extracurriculars and volunteering, just to make sure that your high school resume made it easier for you to get into a good university.
He recognized your street name and he took off in a sprint. Trying to hurry his way to your house. He needed to see you. He needed reassurance for you that he did the right thing by running away. Because without your words of encouragement, he doubted he’d be able to survive the night, let alone live like this. He’d just have to tuck his tail between his legs and go back home to receive whatever punishment his father deemed appropriate. He had nearly a block to go when the familiar sound of sirens and the look of security lights stopped him in his tracks. “Where are you headed to, son?” Jisung sighed. He didn’t need this right now.
“My friend lives on the next block.”
The guard got out of his car and approached Jisung, an uncertain expression on his face. He didn’t even attempt to hide it. The round and nearly bald, older man looked Jisung up and down, eyes doubtful of his story. “Right, and what is this friend's name?” The man pulled out an iPad with a list of residents in this large subdivision.
“Y/l/n, Y/n. She lives with her parents…” He sighed, “Dr. And Mr.'s Y/l/n.” Jisung peered over the tablet to see if he could find you, only to find the guard way too immersed in a game of candy crush. “Seriously?”
The security guard cleared his throat and tapped out of his games screen. “What was the name again?” with an exasperated sigh, Jisung told him your information again. He quickly contacted them, stepping away from Jisung to talk.
“Yes, good evening. This is Sheldon with Rutherglen Security. I was out on patrol this evening when I spotted a young man out on a run with a duffle bag. When I stopped him he informed me he was trying to go see the daughter of this residence..- ah, his name?” He looked back at Jisung who was impatiently tapping his fingers on his jeans as he stood in the middle of the road, bag strapped across his chest. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Jisung. Han Jisung.” The man nodded and looked away again.
“Jason? Han Jason- Oh okay. I'll make sure to drop him off expeditiously.” He hung up and turned to the boy again. “I guess your story adds up. Get in. I'll drop you off.” He said nothing more and made his way around the tiny smart car, getting in. Jisung eyed the vehicle apprehensively. The window slowly rolled down, “On with it! I don't have all night.”
The ride was short, he was nearly a block away when he was stopped. The gates to the driveway opened, revealing the lit up rounded pathway that led to the cream colored, French style home with black accents. It was traditional enough not to stick out, but still had a bit of modern flare to it. Truthfully, Jisung always thought your parents were like their house. Vocal, but both vocal enough to rock the boat.
Some of their opinions didn’t line up with the traditional values of the overall community of Rutherglen, and he admired that. The security guard parked right in front of the house. Jisung could see someone jogging down the staircase inside. The lights in the house lit up with motion, so it made sense to him. The wooden door swung open to reveal a very winded girl, dressed in a band tee and bicycle shorts.
“Haven't you gotten yourself in enough trouble today?” You rushed out before he could even unbuckle his seat and open the door. “Thank you so much…” Your eyes met the security guards as you leaned into the open window.
“Sheldon.” The security guard nodded.
“Sheldon. Thank you so much.” You opened the door for your friend only for Sheldon to speak up again.
“Excuse me, but are your parents home? I need to go over this with them.” You ushered Jisung out of the car and closed the door, leaning on it as you peeked your head in once again.
“My father is away at a medical conference and my mother is in the Maldives on vacation after major surgery, neither would like to be disturbed. But if you want to hear what my dad sounds like when he's angry, you can give him a ring.” Your voice sounded so sweet, but threatening at the same time. Like honey with the sting of a ghost pepper.
“Ah- no, that's fine. I'll just send them a write up. Have a good night.” He cranked the car back up. “And son, try to stay off the streets at night. You looked like you were up to no good.”
Before Jisung could answer you interjected, “He will, no worries. Have a beautiful night, Sheldon. Stay safe out there.” With nothing left to say, you pulled your friend into your house and up the stairs to your room. As if the two of you weren't alone, you closed the door. “What they hell, Ji? Your mom called me worried sick, saying you'd gone off and run away. What the hell?” You hissed. You paced back and forth, mind racing.
He sighed, letting the bag he had bared the weight of for just a few hours, fall from him. He was tired and it hadn't even been a day yet. “I.. I couldn't take it anymore. I just knew what he was going to say. What he was going to tell me. How he was going to lay into me for not being good enough. How disappointed he was. How much he wished I could be more like my brother. I just… I couldn't deal with it anymore. He already thinks I'm a failure for not making the grades my brother made. But now I'm even more of a failure.” He plopped onto your fluffy purple bean bag that was situated in your reading nook.
“Music is to be listened to, not pursued, according to him. I shouldn't entertain these ludicrous fantasies. You know where he took me the other day? To the unhoused encampment near the city center. He told me I'd end up there if I didn't listen to him and do as I was told.” He looked dejected and you wanted to do nothing more than to hold him and tell him everything will be alright. “I guess I just… beat him to the punch.” You sighed, your heart broke for him. He didn't deserve to be treated like that, no one did, really. But especially not Jisung.
“You aren't unhoused, just yet. Tomorrow, I'll skip school and we can look around to find some place to rest your head. Until my parents get back, you can stay here with me. I could use the company.” You could feel a bit of the burden lift off his shoulders and for the first time in a very long time, you saw him smile. He needed this pep talk more than you knew. It made his heart feel a little bit lighter knowing he wouldn’t be navigating this big change in his life without you.
“You know, I don't know what I'd do without you.” He stood unexpectedly and crossed the room to you, pulling you into a tight hug. “You're the best.” You could feel he meant it as he melted into you. He really didn't know what he would do without you. It sounded cliche, but you were literally the wind beneath his wings, his better half. Without you there was no him. He would have come crashing down to earth long ago if it wasn't for you. Your encouraging words always kept him uplifted. Your support always made him strive to be the best at whatever it was he was trying to pursue this week. You were his everything.
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The next morning you woke up as early as you would for school. You were the top of your class, in line to be valedictorian. They might miss you today, but that didn’t matter as long as you made sure that your best friend was taken care of. Jisung had been there through the worst years of your life. He was quite literally your only friend. The only one who cared enough to stick around when it seemed that everyone in the world turned their back on you, just because the glitter of popularity seemed too tempting to say no to.
In your freshman year of school your long time best friend Michelle, someone you'd known since babyhood, decided that her popularity over summer break wasn't worth losing. She'd hit puberty and filled out, so that made her popular with older boys. She couldn't take being seen with a “flat chested loser,” like yourself. She acted as though you hadn’t been friends all your lives. She started ignoring you, and the kicker, started rumors that you were doing sexual favors for the grades you were receiving. She knew better, you'd tutored her the summer before, just to make sure she'd have an easy transition into high school. Maybe you should have let her flounder.
You met Jisung during your summer vacation that same year. It was fate, really. You found out he'd moved around a lot before his family decided to settle in Rutherglen. His father had political aspirations, and this would be the perfect place to put down roots and start the career he always wanted. The way he described his folks almost sounded like how yours were. Father with big aspirations to be something better than what his father was. Mother who cares, but will ultimately side with the father. Plus you both had siblings. His older brother that was amounting to big things in life and your younger brother, two years your junior, who was the love of your mothers life.
You bonded on your love of anime and rock music. Even your views of the world seemed to align. You spent every waking hour with that boy. You exchanged numbers and the rest was history. You'd been inseparable since. So giving up a few hours or days to help your one and only best friend, no matter the circumstances, was absolutely necessary.
The boy slept like a log. But you understood, he had a hell of a day the day before. He got arrested for staging a protest on campus grounds for LGBTIQ+ rights, which wasn’t the smartest move to make on the campus of an ultra conservative Christian school. His stances went against the school's clear directive, that gay relationships were blasphemous and against all of their beliefs. And though you agree with him, that love is love and should be accepted as such. You knew it would ruffle too many feathers, especially if he didn’t go about it the right way.
The protest was a mess. He had only managed to get a few students on his side, and they mostly backed out right before the protest was set to begin. The signs the both of you stayed up to make were torn by the kids that liked to ridicule you and bully Jisung. Then when asked by the headmaster to disassemble, Ji stood ten toes down and even cuffed himself to the door that led from the courtyard and into the school. That's how the cops were called. Then he ran away from home. On top of all of that, he almost got detained on his way to your house.
He deserved to sleep as hard and as long as he wanted. But time was of the essence and him finding at least a roof was imminent. Jisung sounded like a vacuum cleaner as he snored. His mouth was wide open. One leg was under your mattress, how it got there you didn't know and you certainly weren't going to ask. The blanket was wrapped around him like a cocoon and both his hands were stretched above his head like he was superman.
You'd say he looked like a boy with no problems, that was if you didn't know any better. He had plenty of problems. Ones that needed to be handled immediately, you had a “parents are coming home any day now" , type of deadline. You shook him, “Ji, wake up.” He groaned, body flailing a bit. You sighed heavily. His mother told you once that the dead would wake up before she would be able to wake up Jisung in the morning. You could see why she said that now.
“Five more minutes, please?” He pouted in his sleep. The morning sun in its dusty blue haze was starting to peek through the curtains, you needed all the daylight you could afford.
“No. Get up!” You smacked his chest right over his nipple and he jolted up with a yelp, hitting his head on the ledge of your nightstand. He knocked your lamp over, making it fall to the ground with a hard thud.
“Ow! Why, Y/n?” His pout deepened as he rubbed his head. He looked at you like you’d told him you no longer wanted to be friends. Maybe it was part of his sadness from yesterday that was seeping into the look he was giving you. You didn’t know, but you also didn’t like it. You never wanted him to be sad. To you, he deserved nothing but unadulterated joy. You thought he looked the most handsome when he smiled and nothing else should ever be painted across his lips.
His other hand moved to the spot you smacked, rubbing it while still rubbing the spot on his head. You snorted as you took in the sight, but quickly covered it with concern, seeing that he really was in pain. “I- I'm sorry Ji, I didn't mean to startle you. I just need you up so we can get started. Let me see, yeah?” You moved his hand and inspected the area that had hit your side table. You couldn't see any significant damage past his hair. You kissed the general area. “There. All better?”
His face heated up, immediately. His thoughts rushed to anything impure he could think of at the moment. He couldn’t help that he was touched starved. He hadn’t had any action since his ex-boyfriend, Minho, graduated over a year ago. Plus, he hadn’t quite come to terms with his new found -okay, maybe they weren’t new and he’s loved you since he first met you,- feelings. Jisung kept his head turned away from you, afraid you'd see the blush that had tinted his cheeks.
“Mhm.” He nodded. Keeping his response simple. He didn’t want you to see his face and use that big brain of yours to figure out just what thoughts plagued his mind about you.
“Well come on, let's get dressed and eat so we can find you some place to stay for a while.”
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Your mother had been a real estate agent for the past twenty years. She was one of the highest grossing real estate agents in the state. Her vacant properties -which she had plenty of- were what you were going to start with. You'd have to pay extra careful attention to what ones hadn't been looked at in a while and make sure to keep whichever one you settled on that way. “What about that one?” Jisung pointed to a listing of a single family home that was a town over.
“Neighbors would notice. You wouldn't want to be arrested for squatting. I’m sure your dad would love that.” You kept scrolling as he looked over your shoulder, leaning on his hand that was on your arm rests. “It needs to be some place close enough to where I could get to you in case of emergencies, but far enough away from others so they won’t be suspicious.” You chewed on your lip.
Jisung tried to keep his eyes to himself, but something about the way you looked when you were in full concentration always made his heart flutter. He sighed wistfully. Before all of this happened, he had plans to ask you to be his date to prom. He hoped that if the night turned out well, that he would ask you to be his girlfriend. But he went and fucked things up. His dad did always say he was a good for nothing fuck up. Maybe there was a bit of harsh truth in his words.
“Oh just be honest with yourself, you'd miss me too much if I went too far away.” He chuckled, clearing out his dark thoughts with a joke. Little did he know, he was right. In the four years you'd gotten to spend time with him, even vacations away from each other seemed like torture. Your mother commented once that she'd,
‘Never seen two people who weren't in love, be so attached at the hip. You can’t find one without the other.’ You supposed she was right. A bond like the one you and Jisung had was rare. You considered him your soulmate, your person. So, no, you didn't want him to be too far away. You honestly didn't think you'd be able to handle that. It’s also a part of the reason you were afraid to open any of the letters you’d received from prospective universities. You wanted to stay close to home, but your parents insisted you leave the state, to do and see more. You thought you’d seen enough through traveling and would be just fine close to home and Jisung.
“Don't flatter yourself.” You rolled your eyes to sell the act you were putting on. “Someone has to keep you out of trouble.”
He scoffed, “Your delusions are getting worse each day. You do realize you're like zero for three at this point, right? I got arrested, expelled, and I'm homeless, and that's all from one day!” You rolled your eyes so hard it was surprising they didn't just roll out of your head.
“How is that my fault? Before the protest I told you to talk to the headmaster to get permission or at least someone on faculty to let them know, but you didn't. You could have talked to the civics teacher, I'm sure she would have happily let us protest. Then when asked to disband, you laid into things harder as if the lack of permission wasn't bad enough. It was for a good cause, yes, but you have to know your limits. You cuffed yourself to the door, Jisung. Like, Seriously?! Then you resisted arrest… I have no words to express how stupid that was. So it's no wonder you got expelled, you broke multiple school rules and managed to get arrested, again.”
You shook your head. You weren’t disappointed in him, you’d leave that to his father. But you did feel he could have gone about things a little differently. “You didn't even bother telling me that you were running away. We could have planned for this. I could have done something to help before you packed your bags. Least you could have done is let me pick you up.” His arms moved from the arm rest to wrap around you.
He knew he had you worried, just by the way your eyes looked when you came outside. But his mind was in disarray last night. As soon as he walked in parents house yesterday afternoon he could feel all of what was going to come down on him when his father came home. It was like his mind's eye was open and he could see the immediate future. Said future was telling him he needed to run. That he needed to get out of there before his life ended in that stupid house.
“You can be so annoyingly right sometimes. But it wouldn't be very punk of me if I took the easy way out. Plus, arrest records give me street cred.” You sighed heavily and pushed him away. You couldn’t deal with his strange ideologies right now, you were trying to prevent him from being a common, unhoused, delinquent.
“You're an Idiot.” You mumbled under your breath. You didn't really mean it though. Yes, Jisung made brash, spur of the moment decisions. Yes, they resulted in him being in trouble more often than not. But, Jisung was far from an idiot. Really, he bordered the lines of being a genius. At least to you. He was honestly one of the most sincere and compassionate people you'd ever met. Plus his talent for writing, music, drawing, hell anything he put his mind to creatively, was unmatched. Just don't ask him to play sports. Now, that's when he seemed like an idiot.
“This is it!! Ji, look!” You pointed to the screen, shaking the monitor just from the force.
“Is that… a van?” You could hear the disgust in his voice, you didn’t even have to look at his face to know his feelings. “You want me to… live in a van?” He grabbed the mouse, scrolling down the page. “There has got to be something… better… right?” It seemed like that was the last property with an actual structure on it, everything else was just land or warehouses.
“Would you rather a tarp and a cardboard box? Because that might be your only other option.” You quickly pointed out, taking the mouse back from him. “I’m sure one of these vacant warehouses can house you. That is, if you are willing to share your space with roaches, rats, and other creepy crawlies.” He flailed at your words, throwing a small tantrum.
“Why~ Y/n? Can't I just… stay in your basement or attic or something?” He flopped on your mom's office sofa, still kicking around.
“Because, if my father finds you, He’ll end your life and you know it.” Jisung shuddered at the thought. Your father tolerated him, he always had. He understood that the two of you were friends, but if anything other than friendship happened to spark, he’d flip. He was the type of man that thought his daughter should “preserve her innocence until marriage.” So, that meant he was constantly breathing down your throat about promiscuity and how you should wait.
That boys, especially ones like Jisung, were not worth your time. He had even had ideal suitors lined up for you to meet during your eighteenth birthday. Someone from a good home with a promising future. Not a homeless dreamer that got expelled from school and ran away from home. To your father, the man for you could never be Jisung, and he had made that known to the both of you in one way or another.
“And he knows exactly what to give me to kill me too. He probably would donate my body to the med school too, just for good measure.” Jisung shuddered at the thought. “Damn it, I hate when you're right.” Your father petrified him. You didn't know this, and he planned on never telling you that your father threatened him the first time they met. Not the first time you introduced them, but the first time they met at the resort.
Your father had followed you, to make sure you weren't up to anything questionable with the boy you grew so fond of so quickly. He observed from afar, until Jisung got up to use the bathroom. The man towered over the boy, his imposing figure casting a large shadow over him.
“Listen here. That girl that you're chatting up, that's my baby. And as my baby, she gets the benefit of the doubt, you on the other hand, do not. If you're thinking about having sex with my daughter, think twice.” He leaned in, getting down to Jisung's level.
“I have friends in high and low places. If I wanted to make you disappear, all it would take is a snap of my fingers and poof, you're gone. If you lay a hand on my baby, I'll make sure that's the last time you touch anything with it at all.” It seemed that with every word he spoke he backed him further and further towards the wall, until his back finally hit it. “Keep your hands and your dick to yourself. Understand me?” Jisung nodded slowly, afraid any other action would piss your dad off. “Good.” He patted the boy's shoulder. “Now, hurry up and get back to her. You don't want to keep her waiting for too long, now do you?” Jisung felt like he couldn’t breathe until your father disappeared from his vision. He slid to the ground once the man was gone. That was the day he was glad he had a strong bladder.
So, there was no way in hell he'd be caught here. He didn't want to end up in a ditch somewhere, rotting or worse, he had dreams to fulfill. “Let me see if the lights and water are in my mom's name for this property…” You murmured under your breath. “She doesn't check when small amounts come out of her account. So, as long as you keep your usage low, you should be fine there.” Jisung sat up to look at you, now that his little tantrum was finally over.
All of his thoughts about your father had ceased. Now all he could think about was his fear of losing you. To wake up and not be able to hear your voice, or see your face. How could he survive the wild without you? “Will you come visit me?” You stopped clicking around once you heard the sadness in his voice. You quickly turned around in the office chair to face him.
“Why would you ask a stupid question like that? You know I will. You living in a weird van can't keep me away. Even if it looks like you’d kidnap children in it.” He laughed at that, your joke lifting his spirits a little. “Now, if you were living in a cardboard box, you might not see me as much.” He kissed his teeth this time, only for you to laugh.
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“How much further is it?” Jisung asked, trailing behind you. You had to ditch the car, the trail was too narrow and overgrown for you to drive it. He hated walking long distances almost as much as he hated running. He was one of the few people who failed physical education, much to the coach's chagrin. They had stated previously that he had the potential to be a great track star. Yeah, that wasn’t remotely the kind of star he wanted to be.
“I think it's just up ahead, there is supposed to be a clearing…” Jisung had his bag and the guitar he had at your house for safekeeping. The one he had at home had been tossed out onto the drive from a second story window. You had a boatload of cleaning supplies, including a mop, bucket, and broom. This place had been abandoned for over a year and a half now, it had to be gross on the inside.
You could hear him sputtering behind you as he swatted away bugs. “There was no way you could have survived on the outside.” You mumbled, shaking your head. If you were honest, both of you were spoiled little rich kids. Neither of you could survive, especially not without the other. “There!” You couldn't calm the excitement you felt as you saw the silhouette of the van through the trees.
“Fina-fucking-ly.” Jisung huffed, ready to at least take a seat and rehydrate himself. But you had other plans. You opened the van door, the smell of hot air whooshed past you. The pocket door revealed the small kitchen. A sink, floor to ceiling pantry and a counter with a hotplate on top and a mini fridge underneath. You climbed in first.
“This isn't as bad as I thought it would be. At least you have the basic amenities.” You nodded, crawling around on your knees, unaware that Jisung was still standing outside. Apprehension had started creeping its way into Jisung’s subconscious. All the what if's seemingly flying at him all at once.
“What if you fail? Do you really think she’ll remain friends with a loser that is also a failure?” “What happens when you are here in the dark by yourself?” “What if no one likes your music?” “What if she finds someone else that makes her happier than you do?” “What happens when one of those picks that her father likes sweeps her off her feet? What happens to you then?”
“I don't think I can do this.” He turned on his heels, ready to head back to the car.
“Ji, wait!” You quickly exited the van to give chase, he had barely made it back to the tree line before you stopped him. His face was red, both from the heat of walking and also from him trying his best to hold back his tears. Maybe he jumped the gun running away from home. He only had two or three months left before graduation, he could have made it that long. But here he was, in the middle of the woods, looking at an abandoned van as prospective housing.
“If you give up now, you might as well give up on your dreams. Going back home means all of this was for nothing. You might as well throw away all the sheet music and demos you’ve made and go ahead and pick up the law books he was forcing you to read, because you will never do music again if you go back now. Do you want to let your dad win?” He stopped dead In his tracks. Leaving now did mean he was giving up. Going back home to a father that thought of him as nothing but a useless loser was not an option. It might be hard to tough it out, but it wasn’t anything he couldn't get used to.
He sighed heavily, shoulders drooping with the harsh exhale of breath. “God, I hate that you're always right.” You chuckled. “But, I love it at the same time.” He turned to face you, taken back by the ethereal glow the backdrop of the clearing gave you. You looked otherworldly, a type of beauty that he could never fully wrap his head around. You were the type of person people wrote songs about. He wouldn’t admit it to you, but he was one of those said people. He stood there like he wanted to say something, but he just shook his head, letting the thought go. “You have to promise to come see me often. I… I can't do this alone.” You smiled brightly and he reciprocated. How could he not? To him, you had the most radiant smile.
“Wouldn't have it any other way.” You reached for him, pulling him into a tight hug. “I'll always have your back.”
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Loneliness. That's what he expected to feel out on his own. His first night was full of it. Every little creek and bump in the night caused him to stir. Afraid that a random serial killer would happen upon his trailer and brutally kill him. Truth was, he just watched too many horror films, October wasn’t that long ago after all. Plus, the two of you loved to break tradition and watch horror and thriller in place of cheesy Christmas love stories where there was always a small town guy and a big city girl who fight their differences to fall in love with each other, while simultaneously saving the town's failing get-together spot. It was always the same trope in a different font and you both hated it.
When a particularly loud sound pulled him from his sleep, his immediate response was to call you. He’d had enough run-ins with the cops to know not to call them when he was squatting on some middle of nowhere abandoned property. He knew that your soothing voice would be the one thing that would calm him down. It was the only thing that made him feel safe. Just hearing your voice would save him from drowning or bring him back from the brink of death.
“Mhm.” Even with just a hum he knew you had been in a deep slumber. It hadn’t even been the blaring ringtone that woke you up, it was the bright screen of Jisung doing his happy dance after trying the cheesecake you made him for his last birthday.
“Will you stay on the phone with me? It's… Kind of scary out here by myself.” He could hear you shuffling, before settling. Jisung was used to being alone; between his parents traveling for work and his brother being away, loneliness was a constant for the boy. But he knew you were always a phone call away. You’d never failed to answer his call, even if you were asleep or busy; you always made time for him.
“Have you been to sleep, Ji? It's like after four.” Your speech was still slurred, but he found it comforting.
“Yeah. But I keep hearing things.” He played with the fringe on one of the throw pillows you'd lifted from your parents' guest house.
“Want me to sing our song?” He knew you hated to sing, you felt that you couldn't. But he liked for you to sing to him, just for him. Felt like a warm embrace. Your voice was sweet and angelic.
“Please?” You chuckled softly.
Clearing your throat, you started to sing. “Wherever you are, I'll always make you smile.
"Wherever you are, I'm always by your side. Whatever you say, you're always on my mind. I promise you "forever" right now.”
He could feel himself sinking into the mattress underneath him. The worries of the day mentally melting off of him with each word you sang. You were his comfort. He closed his eyes as you continued to sing.
“Someone I can love from my heart. Someone I love from the bottom of my heart. In the center of this love. You are my heart…”
You paused, hearing the light snoring through the receiver. You couldn't help the sleepy smile that spread over your face. “Goodnight, Ji. Love you.” You hung the phone up quickly, missing his sleep riddled reply.
“I love you too, Y/n.”
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The weeks passed by slowly, turning into months. You meant it when you said you’d visit. You were over at Jisung’s place almost every day. Even when things got a little hectic in your schedule you still made time for him. He appreciated that, he really did. But something was off with you. He felt it deep down, every time you canceled on him, or changed the subject when all he asked was a simple question. You were keeping something from him and it wasn’t anything small either.
Jisung was sitting on the floor of his van, feet dangling out of the open sliding door, plucking at his guitar. There wasn’t much inspiration flowing as of late. Not when his mind was occupied with you and the secret you were keeping from him. He wanted to know, just wanted to come right out and ask you what you were hiding. But he knew if he was going to ask, he needed to do it gently. You’d shut down if he forced you to tell him what was up. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts he didn’t see you come out of the clearing. Not even the dry grass crunching under your sandals could pull him from deep within his thoughts.
“Ji, I think your ears are smoking. You okay?” The sound of your voice snapped him out of it. His fingers stopped what they were doing and he sat up.
“Huh? My what are what-ing?” He moved his hand to his ear, feeling for whatever substance you said was coming out his ear, only to realize you were joking. He chuckled. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating?” His class graduated today. Instead of being out, celebrating with you and taking pictures of this great day, he was stuck in his van. Barred from coming within fifty feet of the school.
“Are you dumb? What kind of celebration would it be if you weren’t with me?” You pulled your hand that he hadn’t realized you were hiding until you flashed your diploma. “I’m free… from well.. High School.” You chuckled. “Those last few months were tough without you, Ji. I had no one to talk to.” You sighed, but his only response was to hum.
The tension had built up in his head, his intrusive thoughts winning the ongoing battle in his head. “What are you hiding from me?” He spoke suddenly, not even bothering to look in your eyes as he asked.
You shook the diploma cover you held in your hand, “My diploma. Is… is everything alright, Ji?” You looked at him confused. Chalking it up to maybe he’d been out here too long by himself. It had been two days since the last time you were by, you just couldn’t free up time.
“No, it’s not alright. You have been acting strange for the last month or so.” He sat his guitar down and jumped down out of the van, coming face to face with you. “You know you can trust me, so, why are you hiding something from me?”
You thought you’d been acting normal. Trying to keep those feelings of betrayal from seeping out of your pores like bottom shelf liquor. “I…” He was right, you had been hiding something, from the fear of feeling like you’d lose him if you told him the truth.
He sighed, frustration taking over his expression. Being a forced recluse had taken its toll on Jisung. Jisung might have had most of the things a person with an actual apartment had. He had a kitchen, albeit a small one. He had a place to sleep, and a makeshift living room. He had a sink and could go pee outside, plus a hose to hose down with in place of showers.. He had to walk a few miles to the local gym to handle other things like real grooming, so his hard on his face and the top of his head had grown out tremendously. Not to mention places you hadn’t seen.
Jisung had gotten a job in town, and used you as a reference. Now he worked the night shift at a gas station. It gave him something to do in the meantime, to help him save up to move somewhere other than this ultra conservative little town so he could pursue his dream. He had always hoped you’d get accepted somewhere cool so he could tag along and get some gigs. He always wanted to be wherever you were.
“Please, just tell me the truth.” His voice was soft. He just wanted to know the truth.
You sighed, eyes focused on the diploma in your hand. “I’m leaving.” You spoke, but you stayed planted in your spot. Jisung looked at you confused.
“Now? Or…”
“Right before school starts. I… I got accepted into the university of my dreams…. Ji…” The sadness in your voice was palpable. The excitement hit him before the realization hit. You’d been talking about where you really wanted to go if you ever got the chance. It was in a different country, halfway across the globe. You were leaving. For real.
He took a moment. He didn’t want to seem bitter that you were leaving him. But, you were leaving him. His rock was leaving him to float away. You kept his mind grounded, what was he going to do with you gone?
“I.. I’ve been afraid to tell you. I wanted to tell you in my own way, whenever I was ready. But… It never seemed like a good time.” You were picking at a loose string on the hand stitched leather cover.
It felt like an eternity before Jisung spoke again. “You’re leaving… for uni?” You looked up, alarmed by his voice which was devoid of any type of feeling.
"What happened to us sticking together? Staying close to each other?" He frowned, "So.. you're leaving m-..?" He paused, but quickly corrected himself. "You are leaving Rutherglen?"
“Yes, in a few months.” You nodded, hoping that if you explained you had time before you went it would help him to process it better.
He was trying his best to keep all of his emotions from spilling out like an over boiling pot, but he couldn’t keep it in. “How long have you known?”
Your brows creased into a frown. “How long have I known that I wanted to go there? You know the answer-”
He stopped you mid-sentence. “How long have you known that you were leaving? How long have you known that you were leaving me behind?” His voice came out calm, but it was the type of calm that led to murders.
“Ji- I- don't know. I just.. I wanted to tell you but I was afraid of how to say it-”
“How long?!” He snapped, scaring the both of you. You’d never witness this side of him. The shade of anger almost reminded you of his father. “Y/n.. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
You cut him off this time. “A month.” You spoke matter-of-factly. “I got the letter a month ago and I’ve been riddled with anxiety while trying to figure out how to tell you. You know this is all I ever wanted and I-”
You felt the wind get knocked out of you before you could finish your sentence. “Go.” You stopped speaking as the cold word left your best friend's mouth. “I don’t need you to stay here for my sake. I’ll be just fine by myself.” He didn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth, but somehow, you did. You took a few steps back away from him.
He didn’t dare look at your face, too afraid it would break his heart and make it even harder to say goodbye.
He had to let you go. He knew that and you knew that. All he would be doing is holding you back if he tried to convince you to stay closer to him. He knew this was your dream and he needed to support that. Because all you ever did was support him. He felt it was finally his turn to do the same for you.
If he didn’t let go now, he definitely wouldn’t be able to a few months from now. If he didn’t rip the Band-Aid off now, the wound would never heal. “Just fucking go.” He wanted to congratulate you, tell you just how good you did. That despite all of the hurdles you faced you still came out on top. You deserved to be celebrated. But he couldn’t do that with you, not right now. Not when he was on the verge of ripping his own heart out. He let his long bangs cover his eyes so you wouldn’t look into them and see the immediate regret they held. “Why are you still standing here? GO!”
You swallowed the enormous lump in your throat. He wouldn’t get your tears, he didn’t deserve them. You couldn’t wrap your head around why he was so upset. You wanted to tell him, you really did. But how do you go about telling your best friend that you won't be able to see them again until some miscellaneous holiday? If that. Your family had money, but you doubt they would even care enough to fly you back and forth, especially if it was just to see some boy.
“Ji, I’m sorry I wanted to-” He stopped you before you could finish by getting in the van and shutting the door right in your face. He could show you better than he could tell you that he wanted you gone. You sucked in a deep breath and turned your back on the van. It took everything in you not to turn around, you didn’t want to say goodbye, especially not like this. Jisung on the other hand, only pretended to let his anger get the best of him. He retreated to his bed as soon as the door closed. He watched silently as your back disappeared into the brush. The sadness took over as soon as he couldn’t see your back anymore.
This was the end of the best thing he’d ever had. The closest thing he’d ever felt was close to true unconditional love.
The passage of time is a funny thing. One moment you are crying your eyes out because what you thought was your person turned their back on you. Then you traveled halfway across the world to get your degree and ended up spending four more years in another place to get your doctorate. Now you are sitting at your younger brother’s wedding rehearsal. Just who gets married at the ripe age of twenty-two? He just got the hang of legal drinking, for Christ's sake. When did he even get this big?
Things were hectic, especially considering you were his “best man”, like he didn’t have a male friend to fill the role. You would have been perfectly fine just sitting out with your parents as a bystander. Thankfully you were pretty familiar with his friends and his soon to be husband. Plus you knew the ins and outs of his life, even if you didn’t want to. He said he trusted you more than anyone, that's why he picked you. You couldn’t say no to that, even if you desperately wanted to.
The wedding was beautiful. His family also came from money, so they spared no expense to make sure that their ‘Lovely boy”, as they affectionately called him, got everything he wanted. That included a destination all the way in lovely Spain, Ibiza to be exact. Your parents paid for the reception, and of course, married or not, no one was going to outdo them when it came to their favorite child. They rented out a whole hotel with beautiful vistas of the Ibizan coastline. Your brother also wanted them to pay for Beyonce to come and perform, but they quickly shot that down, which you found funny. Instead He asked for another artist, one that his now husband seemed to love.
You had just finished taking a picture with the wedding party, successfully embarrassing your little brother with a big kiss on the cheek in the last photo. You couldn’t be happier for his happiness. He pulled you to the side, as the others gathered to make their entrance to the reception. “Sis, I couldn’t thank you enough for all you've done for me.” He put a hand on your shoulder, looking down at you with your mothers smile. Seriously, when did he get so big? “I know things haven't always been smooth sailing between us. I didn’t have nearly as many things to overcome, being that I'm the baby and mom's favorite after all.” He laughed and you playfully scowled.
“But, I recognize, and I'm thankful for every sacrifice you've made as my older sibling. Without your encouragement I would have never gone to law school, which means I would have never met the love of my life. I'd still be miserable trying to remember all the fucking funky ass medical terms.” You laughed at that, the boy was struggling. He wanted to follow in your fathers footsteps, just to make him proud. But you’d convinced him that he could make him proud just by being himself and succeeding in something he actually loved. It turned out you were right, but when weren’t you? “I needed you to tell me to find something that made me happy. So, my question to you now is, are you happy, sis?” He slid his hand from your shoulder into yours. “I don’t mean with work, we all know you love your job. Dr. Y/L/n.” You smiled, but you didn’t answer the question immediately.
For years now, it felt as if something was missing from your life. But you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. You’d been in a few relationships since you’d left Rutherglen, you’d even been engaged. You’d made friends along the way, some you were even still close to. But for the most part, nothing ever felt worth the effort to keep. Maybe it was the trauma you’d felt from all of your failed high school relationships that found a way to creep into the ones you’ve tried to make. Maybe it was just some weird void left there by the person you thought was your person. Who knows? But, you were alone. But you didn’t feel like you were lonely, per-se. You filled whatever deep well of emptiness with traveling and good food.
Your brother gave you a look and it caused you to sigh. “I’m good. This is you and Liam’s day, Aaron. I know you want to save the world and all, but you can’t solve all my problems. At least, not today anyway.” You chuckled. It was sweet that he was concerned about you, it really was. But, you’d been trying to deal with whatever this hole was for over eight years now. You found that it was either something that you get used to, or you try to fill. You just decided to get used to it. There was no use in trying to fill the black hole left in your heart by-
“It’s time to head in, you two.” The wedding planner snapped you out of your thoughts. You smiled up at your younger brother before tugging him along to join the rest of the wedding party.
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“Thank you, Manchester!” The crowd roared as Jisung threw his sweaty and torn tee-shirt out into the pit of fans. He and his band Mortal Savages were promoting their latest album, Awkward Example, on tour. This was the last stop on the European leg of the junket, after they had toured the world. He rushed off stage as the throng of fans started to get rowdier than they already were. A small mosh pit was starting to form in the middle and he honestly wanted no parts of that. Last time they waited around while that happened, he lost a tooth and ended up with a concussion and a busted guitar.
His assistant handed him a bottle of water as he exited the stage. “Your flight is in two hours, Mr. Han. I have arranged a private car to pick you up from your hotel and take you to the airport.” Jisung nodded, listening idly. He just wanted to unwind, before heading to this small gig he and the rest of his band had been booked for. If it wasn’t for this being a special request of a friend of a friend, he’d be headed right back to Seoul with his band.
See, Jisung had made quite a name for himself over the past eight years. After he pushed you out of his life, he picked up the pieces as best he could. Using your exit as motivation. He hoped that you wouldn’t hate him forever, that one day the two of you would reunite. But in case you didn’t, he wanted to use the little bit of light you’d shone in his life to really make something of himself. He started small, busking a few towns over in a big city.
That landed him a few gigs here and there like weddings and bar mitzvahs. As much fun as those were, he had bigger dreams. He started to post short covers on tik tok and things kind of picked up from there. He was recognized by an artist that wanted to start his own label and the rest was history. He’d found his people. He put together his own band from some people he’d met in circles while touring by himself. People who had small fanbases, but great potential.
Hyunjin, his bassist, was a model. He played bass in his free time and had a few videos posted on his insta account of him playing. He was suggested to him by a secretary at the company. Okay, maybe suggested was a strong word. She had a crush on the bassist, so it was only natural that she suggested Jisung look into him. He did, and he loved his style. Hyunjin introduced him to Felix, his closest friend, a twitch gamer that just so happened to know how to play guitar, and had a pretty surprising set of vocal cords on him. It was only natural he asked him to join the group.
He found Jeongin in a jazz bar of all places. The kid was a classically trained pianist whose one act of rebellion was to play jazz. Jazz. As surprising as it was, it is what almost got him disowned by his family. Jisung convinced him that if he really wanted to make his parents mad, he should try rock. Turns out, Jeongin’s dad really liked rock music.
Despite him trying to anger his parents, he actually made them proud. Go figure. All he needed to round out the group was a drummer. He found his drummer, an Aussie, on youtube, doing shirtless rock remixes of popular r&b and pop songs. The dude was so undeniably cool he called his manager that night to ask him to find this dude. By the time he woke up the next morning, Chris was on a plane to see him.
They somehow all clicked, becoming a band of brothers in a matter of months. He couldn’t see his life without these guys now. Jisung was relieved when the door closed behind him in the dressing room. He needed to tune out all of the noise. He hated being alone with his thoughts, they seemed overwhelming at times, but after a set, it seemed to be the one thing that comforted him. He flopped in a chair, directly in front of a vanity, taking in his reflection.
So many things have changed over the years. He changed his hair a few times, it went from short to long and back again. He recently grew it out, opting to keep the long hair, figuring it stopped his face from looking so youthful and chubby. He'd dyed it several times, but it was currently back to his regular dark brown. His previously unmarred skin was now littered with various tattoos with different meanings and reasons behind them.
Most of them remind him of his past, both the good and bad. Without those moments, he wouldn’t be who he was today. He ran his fingers through his damp fringe, sighing. He had no time to reminisce about ancient history, he had somewhere to be in a few hours and needed to gather his strength to get there. Jisung pushed himself up with a heave-ho and gathered up his things.
It was a quick ride back to the hotel. There were a few fans and reporters posted outside. It was just the ones who had figured out he and his band mates were staying there. His anxiety started to kick in the moment he started to see the flashes of cameras as the car came to a halt in the drop off area. He almost asked his assistant to go get his things, that he’s take care of his personal hygiene when they got to their destination.
But he group mates were already shuffling out of the SUV before he could get his bearings. Jisung felt like he was in a trance, his body moving on auto pilot. The sound had cut out, all he could hear was muffled shouting and the incessant humming noise. His face was blank, gone with any thoughts that he had in his head. There was just this tiny voice in his head telling him, “You got this, Ji.” It sounded an awful lot like his old friend. But it had been eight years and the sound of her voice was something he had long ago forgotten, no matter how hard he tried to hold on to the memory of it.
There were times when he thought he might forget her face, but social media was a constant reminder of it. It wasn’t like he was stalking her or anything . Okay, maybe he was. But it was only just a little bit. He just wanted to know if she was doing well. If she’d gotten married, or made any big life changes. She’d changed a lot too. Her style had changed, as well as her hair a few times. But the thing that stayed the same was her smile. It was the thought of her smile that kept his feet moving as he made his way into the hotel. The sound came back in as the cool air of the hotel lobby hit his face. He breathed a sigh of relief. Thankful he didn’t have another episode like he did a couple weeks ago. He fainted from anxiety and it made front page news, much to his chagrin.
“Alright, everyone go get your things. We will meet back here in forty-five.” His manager spoke after rounding up the band and their staff. It wasn’t much time, but he was glad he’d get at least a few minutes to himself before heading out again into the sea of people waiting for him. The elevator ride up to their floor was filled with eventful conversations between the members and the few staff that took the ride up with them. Jisung would throw a smile or a nod around occasionally, but was otherwise disengaged. His mind was filled with thoughts about his family. How his brother and his wife had welcomed their second child, a little boy with round chubby cheeks just like his uncle. He hoped that his brother would be a better father to the second born child than their father was to him.
Even though they had since then made up. Jisung knew it was only due to him being a ‘success’, rather than his father truly being sorry for all of the pain he’d caused him. It took a lot of therapy and lyric writing for him to even be remotely open to talking to his father. If it wasn’t for mis mother practically begging him to forgive the man, he would have never even considered it. Turns out that the youth vote can be boosted when your son is a super popular rockstar. Just have said rockstar pose in a few pictures with the mayoral candidate with the same name, and your political career might take off.
He didn’t fault his father for it. He'd worked hard to get his career to that point. There was nothing wrong with booting your votes with a pretty well-known artist. Especially when that artist is your child. His father actually sat him down amidst their reunion and told him that the only reason he treated him like that was because he saw too much of himself in him. That he once had aspirations to be a rock star, that he almost made it. Him and his band had signed a record deal and everything. But things fell through and they ended up having to pay back the company for the debt they had incurred. He just didn’t want that life for his son. He also admitted that he may have gone about things the wrong way, not recognizing the same stubbornness in his son that he once had.
The ding of the elevator brought Jisung out of his thoughts. He separated from his members as he pushed his door open after using the keycard to get in. He was back to his thoughts, now his brain now blotted with thoughts of you. He missed you, dearly. How your lips curled when you smiled. How your hair smelled when you hugged him in the mornings before class. How your sleepy voice sounded. How out of everyone, you gave him the most strength to make it day to day. How a chance encounter was the reason you two became friends in the first place. Even down to how you were his person.
Even years after seeing you last, you were still his person. He had a feeling you would always be. Countless hit records were written about you and he'd keep writing about you until he couldn't write anymore. His muse. His first true love. His person. The lov- “Aren’t you Han? From Mortal Savages?” His door barely clicked open when he heard the high pitched vocal fry of what he assumed was one of his fans. He sighed. If he hadn’t been caught up in his thoughts maybe he would have seen her and possibly avoided all of this. He quickly closed the door, knowing all too well how some fans could be and he didn’t want to take that chance.
He turned to her with a smile. “Yeah. What can I do for you, beautiful?” He’d learned from Chris that sometimes you had to pacify the fans with a compliment, make them feel special. It made them come back.
Her eyes lit up at the compliment. “I- I was hoping… you might invite me in.” Jisung tried his best to keep his face neutral. “I’m your biggest fan, a-and I wanted to show you just how much I love you.” Stealthily he turned on his camera to record this incident, sometimes you had to be careful with delicate situations like this. He didn’t want his career to end over a ‘he said, she said’ situation.
He sighed again, “Look, you seem like a nice person, but I’m really tired and I don’t have much time. I have another gig to get t-”
“But your schedule says it’s clear..” She pulled out her phone to provide the evidence.
“It’s a private event, that's why it isn’t on there.” He nodded, “I really need to get packed up so that I don’t miss my plane.” She took the opportunity to step closer to him.
“I promise I’ll make it worth your while!” She got a little louder, alarming the man even further.
“N-no thank you.” He spoke nervously. He’d had industry friends say that this happened to them all of the time, but this was a first for him. He stepped back, back hitting the door to his room.
“I’ll be really good for you, Ji.” She pressed her body against his. Calling out the nickname that no one, but you called him. You were the only one allowed to call him that. It was either his last, first, or his full name. It didn’t have the same endearing ring when others said it. He hated how it sounded falling from other people's lips.
“Wh-what did you call me?” He stared at her blankly.
“Ji.” She smiled wide as if she had accomplished something. “I thought it was cute. Everyone else calls you Han or Jisung, so I thought it’d be nice to call you something I came up with on my own.”
The anger was rolling off Jisung in waves, like magma slowly building towards becoming erupted lava. His face stayed calm as he spoke, but every word was pointed. “Don’t ever call me that again. It’s not for you to come up with different names for me. It’s Jisung, not Ji to you. Understand?” She nodded, getting the underlined hint that he was angry. He didn’t even sound like himself.
“Now, like I said… I have somewhere to be and you are holding me up. If you want a picture or an autograph I can give that to you, but I can’t give you anything else.” She took the opportunity to get the picture, but he was sure she was going to write some whack ass caption like, “Don’t meet your idols.” Or some shit like that. He didn’t have the capacity or strength to care at the moment, he had places to be.
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Jisung was often praised for how quickly he could go to sleep. Not many people had that skill, plus the ability to sleep anywhere and not be disturbed by the loud noise surrounding him. But his alleged gift did not come in handy on the flight from Manchester to their private booking two hours and some change away. As a matter of fact, that usual gift seemed like a deterrence. He fell asleep as soon as they got on the plane, but ten minutes later he was wide awake again. He tried his best to get some rest before they touched down, but nothing helped. He counted sheep and took a swig of liquor, he even tried a sleep aid, but here he was, looking out the window as the plane touched down. It had to be his luck, right? Something was off in the universe or something. Because why was his scale tipping towards all this bad will?
Even after arriving and settling into his hotel room, sleep just would not come to him. The hours ticked by. He tried at first to see if he laid in the bed long enough if sleep would still elude him, it did. He tried to gather some inspiration, maybe pen something fantastic about not being able to sleep, the inspiration never came. So as the sun slowly started to creep over the horizon, he decided to take a walk. The beautiful vistas around this hotel were captivating, so hopefully they would provide him with both inspiration and clarity. He stood near the cliff and watched the sunrise, not noticing the woman a few yards away from him, taking in the same views. He was about to leave, hoping that seeing the sun would finally put him to sleep when he noticed something about her. The briny scent of the sea mixed with her scent and just like a care package, the breeze sent it right into his nostrils.
Every muscle and nerve in his body froze with the familiar scent. But there was just no way. Right? His father asked him to do this favor, saying this was his wedding gift to the son of a family friend. But it never occurred to him that your family were the aforementioned family friends. His body ached to call out to you, run to you, but his mind kept him in the same position. With good reason apparently. You were joined a moment later, a man around your age coming behind you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders before taking up the spot right next to you. Was that your boyfriend? His anxiety started to bubble in the center of his chest, his heart felt shaky. He knew a day like this would come, when he would have to face you once more. Make amends with how he broke your heart. But he never expected it to be on your family trip. He didn’t expect to meet you again in the same manner he met you the first time. Meeting somewhere tropical with your family somewhere nearby. Now he had to add in a boyfriend to the mix.
His head was starting to pound, he needed to sleep. He needed his heart to stop beating so rapidly in his chest. He needed to call this all off and head back to the comfort of his own home, to get away from the madness. “Jisung, what are you doing out here?” His eyes widened, hearing his name being called. He turned around to see his manager, dressed in his workout gear, just having come from a run. In a panic, Jisung quickly pulled the man away from the scene, hoping you hadn’t heard. Just as he ducked back into the building, you looked around in the spot he was just in, to see no one there.
It took him a while to calm down. He could still see you from his hotel room and it wasn’t helping him one bit. Internet stalking you was bad enough, now he was literally stalking you, watching you from his window like some creep. He was anxious, sleep deprived, and now he had to add scared that he’d truly lost you forever. He looked on at you and your boyfriend, talking animatedly from the window. His arm was around your shoulder, he assumed to keep you warm. Even with the blanket still around you. “What am I going to do?” He was stressed. Hair sticking up all over his head from incessantly running his fingers through it. He couldn't leave, he’d made a promise with his dad to do this in his absence. Plus his mom was somewhere around, she’d been texting him all night about how she couldn’t wait to see her precious baby. He wouldn’t be able to stomach a decision that made her sad when she was clearly so excited.
He wanted to say ‘fuck you’, to being a good son. But at the end of the day he just couldn’t. What if you didn’t recognize him? Or worse. What if you ignored his entire existence? He knew you had every right too, he did push you out of his life just because you’d hidden your acceptance to college from him. Or at least that's what he let you think. He didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t follow your biggest dreams. He flopped on his bed, tired of watching the endless flirtation and touching between you and your supposed boyfriend. He laid in the bed, draping his arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight. “Get a grip, Jisung. It’s just a performance. She’s just a girl. Just do what you came here for and peace out. It’s simple.” At least he hoped that's how things would be. He’d perform, then he and his mom would make their way to Seoul to visit some family. Simple. Easy. Right?
Yeah, things were definitely not that easy. Not for him at least. He eventually fell asleep, just to be woken up by a knock at his door. It was his mother, inviting him to be her date to the wedding. Was he a momma’s boy because he couldn’t deny her this simple task? Maybe, but how could he say no to her? That's how he ended up between his mother and your third cousin, Lilliana, both women talking his ears off as he nodded idly. Luckily the wedding was outdoors, so his sunglasses made a lot of sense. He wasn’t the only one shielding their eyes from the sun's rays. The only reprieve he felt was when the wedding march started. For the most part, the wedding party came in one person at a time. Until it came to the best men, the two of you walked in together, arm in arm. The way he looked at you sunk Jisung’s heart lower than the floor.
You were stunning, he could understand your boyfriend’s feelings. The way the all red pants suit looked on, put everyone else to shame. Even the way your hair was pinned up, or even how simple but gorgeous your makeup looked, all of the above just complimented your beauty perfectly. He couldn’t pay attention to the actual wedding, his mind and eyes focused on you the whole time. Even if you felt his stare, you didn’t acknowledge it. He was thankful for that. He already felt like a creep from watching you this morning. Even as you walked back down the aisle, he watched you until he couldn’t see your figure anymore.
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Nerves. He stopped getting nervous before shows years ago. But here he was, pacing back and forth, chewing on his already bitten away nails. His members looked on at him, worried. It’d been a while since they’d seen him like this and even though each of them tried their best to comfort him in their own way, nothing seemed to work. The time was ticking down for them to go on stage and the dread in the pit of his stomach was growing exponentially. What if she still hates me? What if she lets everyone know how disgusting of a human being I am for treating her that way? What is this…? What if that…? He was so far into his thoughts it took an actual push from his manager to start walking.
“Babe, I know how much you love this group and their lead singer's voice. So, using my sister's old connections, I asked his dad if he could get them to perform for our wedding reception.” Aaron spoke, holding up his champagne flute towards his husband. “So, this is Mayor Han’s gift to us for our wedding. Please give a warm round of applause to Mortal Savages!” All of the young people in the crowd went wild, most of them rushing to the dance floor right in front of the stage to get a good view. Aaron hurried to his husband's side to watch the band. But all Jisung could do was look out into the crowd, in hopes of finding you. He felt like a teenager all over again. Transported back to his audience of one. No one else mattered in this moment, not even the grooms who he was here to entertain.
He expected to see anger in your eyes, but instead was met with this inexplicable sadness. “Uh- hi.” Jisung spoke nervously. “It’s been a while since we last played a wedding, but uh- I hope..” He could see your boyfriend whispering something in your ear just for you to shake your head no. It only made him wonder what he asked. “I hope this song reaches someone out there. Because almost every song is written for or about someone. Often it's about the love that got away, other times it’s about the love you feel in the moment. So.. I hope this helps to spread the love that this lovely couple is feeling at this very moment.” He grabbed his guitar, the pick nearly slipping out of his sweaty fingers.
As the song started, he kept his eyes locked on your, not straying away from your saddened yet scrutinizing gaze.
“지킬게 아파도 돼 네가 흘린 상처들은 감싸 안을게 이미 내게 너는 죄 너는 죄…”
You tore your eyes from him, to focus once more on your boyfriend, giving that man a soft smile. One that was once reserved strictly for Jisung. Most if not all of your smiles once upon a time were because of him, they were for him. Maybe because things were so easy back then he didn’t realize he was taking them for granted, taking you and the love you showed him for granted, platonic or not. Almost as if he couldn’t lose them. To know that the reason you were no longer a constant in his life was all his doing? Felt like a ripping stab to the heart.
“뜨거운 네가 필요해, you are my volcano…”
He was thankful that you let the song end before you excused yourself. Jisung dropped everything, practically chucking his guitar into his manager's hands before running after you. He could hear the confused claps at the reception, he knew he’d have to deal with the consequences of his actions, but those were the last thing on his mind right now. He saw the fabric of your red suit rush to the elevator, but he quickly caught it before the doors closed completely. You sighed loudly, wishing you could have vanished before he found you, but your luck was apparently shit.
“Please.. Just.. hear me out.” He huffed, arms still stretched out at his sides holding the elevator door open. You wanted to tell him no, because what was left to say? He was the one who pushed you out, not the other way around. You owed him nothing. But you gave in anyway. Truth be told, you wanted to hear what excuses he’d make for his past behavior. Because a simple apology wasn’t going to work on you, you needed to know why he pushed you away.
He silently stepped on the elevator with you. The building only had a few floors, so he needed to speak quickly. “I didn’t realize until it was too late that this was your brother's wedding. I hope you don’t think I crashed it on purpose, because that just isn’t the case. I just-”
“Get to the point, Jisung. I don’t have all night to stand in this elevator and talk with you.” You spoke coldly, eyes staring into his murky reflection on the mirrored doors. You wouldn’t even spare him an actual look. He could feel himself getting nervous all over again.
“It’s not an excuse, but in my mind, pushing you away was the best thing for you. I wanted to keep you by my side. But I knew if I selfishly asked you to stay, you would. I also knew that talking with you over the phone or facetime wouldn’t be enough. Especially not when I’d grown used to having you near. Once upon a time, one phone call was all it took and you’d be there, but how could you if you were in another country? I couldn’t deal with even the thought of it. Being able to hear your voice, but not being able to actually bask in your presence- the thought of living like that for four years killed me.”
You crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your eyes. “But that wasn’t just your decision to make, Ji-” His nickname almost slipped off your tongue, probably a force of habit. “Jisung. We could have figured something out. But you decided our friendship wasn’t worth fighting for. You literally slammed the door in my face. It’s been eight years. Do you think I’m still hung up on how you imploded our friendship on a whim? I’ve moved on. You should too.” Your sentence ended just as the elevator dinged, the old door creaking open. “Congratulations on becoming a success, by the way. I guess me not being around paid off for you.”
Your eyes finally met his, but he didn’t like the look in them. Like you loathed the fact that he was breathing the same air as you. “I can’t.” He spoke, exiting the lift with you. “I can’t move on. I never had any intention to.” He followed after you, even after you dismissed him. You were just trying to get into your room, away from him, away from the noise. But he was persistent. He followed you in. After you didn’t push him out, he continued.
“Almost every song I’ve written has been about you. For you. I-I hoped that one day you’d see my face on tv or hear my voice on the radio and look me up. I hoped that you’d read my lyrics or my ‘thanks to’ and realize that everything I did was so you could see me. See that I needed to push you away for both of us to grow. I needed the pain to see that my feelings for you were more than whatever platonic bullshit I had reduced them too. I needed that space to understand that what I thought was love with my exes would never compare to the love I have for you. I’ve been in and out of relationships since you walked away from my van and back into the trees and nothing, not even the biggest heartbreak has compared to the feeling of never seeing your face or hearing your voice again.”
You kept your back turned towards him as you listened. You stared out the sliding glass door and glass balcony fence that overlooked the reception area. The party was still going on, everyone was having a good time, despite the lead singer of the band being missing in action.
“All I’ve wanted this past eight years is for you to understand that I was too dependent on you. I needed to grow up, to man up and I couldn’t do that if you were around. I had to learn to navigate life by myself without you constantly helping me out of every little fuck up. Do you even realize that that's how it was? Everytime I fucked up, you came behind me and cleaned it up to the best of your ability. I flunked a class, you spent your entire summer helping me pass it so I wouldn’t be left behind the next year. I ran away from home and you found me a place to stay so I wouldn’t be homeless. I depended on you so much that I needed to know that I could do it on my own. You needed to go to the school of your dreams so you could do the work you were clearly called to do. I know I went about it the wrong way, I realize that.”
His voice grew closer, so you closed your eyes, hoping you wouldn’t have to face him. “You broke my heart, Ji.” It hurt him to hear you say it, it hurt even more to hear how brokenhearted you sounded. “I thought that whatever we faced in life, we’d be in it together. Until the wheels fell off. Isn't that what we used to say? Isn't that what we promised?” It was more of a rhetorical question, you were sure you both knew the answer to that question.
“Then all of a sudden I was alone. You’d iced me out. I left the country right after graduation because I couldn’t stand even the thought of running into you, seeing your fucking punchable face. I realized on the plane why it hurt so bad. Why losing you as a friend hurt me worse than losing my childhood best friend to the glimmer of popularity. It was because I loved you. I came to the fucked up realization that somewhere along the way I had fallen madly in love with my best friend. If I thought I was heartbroken before, that made it far worse.” You finally turned to face him.
“Imagine, finally being able to move on. Finally free from the burden of unrequited love, just to hear his voice on the radio.” You chuckled humorously. “To have your friends gush over how hot the lead singer of this band was. Telling you just what his voice did to them in excruciating detail.” You sighed deeply just thinking of all the things your friends said they wanted to do to him or what they wanted him to do to them.
“To have to suffer silently while they sang his songs or shoved his content down your throat. All while you are nursing the gaping wound he left behind. To keep having to relive the moment he gutted you like a fucking fish all because he what-? Wanted to be less dependent on you?” You tilted your head back as you scoffed. “I had no one, Jisung. You were my only friend. Just like you were dependent on me, it was the same for me. I had to rebuild myself once you were gone. It took years for me to open up to people, I had closed myself off afraid I’d be abandoned by someone else I considered my friend.” He could see that you were fighting back tears. He reached for you only for you to pull back.
“That's for a friend to do. Not for some random stranger that followed me to my room.” That's when the realization hit him. This looked bad. Really bad. He'd followed a girl to her room from a party. Even if you, him, and a few party goers knew the type of relationship you used to have, that was far in the past at this point. You didn't know each other now. For all he knew, you could have had a few drinks. All it took was one out of control rumor and his career would be over. He backed up, letting his hands fall to his side.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was low, almost nonexistent. “Please, let me be that for you again. It doesn’t have to be a full blown friendship, even if I want to work my way back to that. Just- just let me be there for you, please?” Jisung cautiously stepped closer with his arms stretched. It was a slow wrap of his arms around your frame, before he pulled you in close, patting your back soothingly. You both melted into each other. He swore nothing else felt more like home than being in your arms. He hugged you tighter and you broke down, sobbing into his fuzzy cardigan.
“I fucking hate you, Ji.” You gently hit his arm as you wrapped your arms around him. He chuckled lightly, a smile spreading on his lips.
“That’s okay, I’ll take the hate. Just as long as that means one day I can get you to love me again.”
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You took a few moments to recollect yourself, deciding to return to your brother's party. You tried to convince Jisung to go ahead without you, since he was being paid to be there, but he refused. He stuck with you the whole elevator ride back down and all the way until you made it into the reception. “Where the heck have you been?” A man approached the two of you, one who you could only assume was his manager. “You just ran off stage without a word. Do you know how that makes you look?” As he laid into him, you slowly backed away, going for your escape. Only for Jisung to reach back and grab your hand.
“I- I know, Hyung. I- this is her. This is my, Y/n.” He lightly tugged you forward, showing the man you clasped hands. “This is her little brother's wedding. I’ll perform a few songs by myself to make up for my absence. You and the rest of the guys can go ahead and head out. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.” The man looked at him skeptically before he nodded in agreement.
“Fine. I’ll see you back in Seoul in a few weeks. You have a great vacation.” His eyes traveled to you as he plastered on a warm smile. “Congratulations on getting your PHD, I know your family must be proud, Dr. Y/l/n. I know someone was.” His eyes darted to Jisung before he bowed and left to gather up the rest of the band.
“How did you even know I got my phd?” You asked, stealthily trying to pull your hand away from the death grip he had it in, but he didn’t let go.
“I… kind of kept up with you. Mostly on my finsta account. I also might have received news from your brother. He came to confront me at one of my shows and we’ve been in contact since. Please don’t be mad at him, I asked him to keep it from you. I didn’t want you to find a way to cut off my supply. Knowing you were doing well is what kept me going.” You sent a scowl towards your brother, who must have felt a disturbance in the force. He put his hands up to say he had no choice. You’d talk to him about this later.
“I wanted to experience the milestones in your life, even if it was from secondhand stories.” He pulled out his phone, there was a photo album dedicated to you with pictures spanning from the first time you met up until your first day at your new job as a child psychologist in a nearby children's hospital. “Though I couldn’t be there, I still want to say, congratulations. I’m proud of you.” You rolled your eyes.
“So, what you are saying is… you internet stalked me for years and even pulled my younger brother into it, with a promise to sing at his wedding. Tsk tsk. Wait until the internet gets a hold of that.” You joked. The panic in his eyes before the realization was hilarious to you. “I’m joking, Jisung.” You smiled, “Thank you for being interested in my progress through life. Congratulations to you as well, Mr. Grammy nominated artist. That's amazing, Ji. It really is. I guess we really got what we wanted, huh?” You smiled wistfully.
But the smile slid right off of Jisung's face. He got part of what he wanted. The other part was standing right in front of him, her hand in his. And as close as she was, she was still so far away. In his mind, it was all a matter of if he was going to truly confess everything in his heart, right here, right now. He was frightened that he might overwhelm you if he did.
Though he had let it slip that he loved you earlier in your hotel room, that was nowhere close to the extent of what he felt for you. He wanted to shout it from the rooftop that the woman he loved had accepted him back into her life after he’d gone and fucked everything up.
Jisung had been swept up in a whirlwind, being introduced to all of you and your brother's mutual friends. His mind being put at ease, finding out that Hangyul was in fact not your boyfriend. Even if a blind person could tell he had fallen for your charm, Jisung was glad that was just his feeling and it wasn’t mutual apparently. Not with how far you put your wedding partner in the friendzone.
Giving Jisung a kind of go ahead to wiggle his way out of the friend zone he’d finally gotten back into. He excused himself, figuring it was time to finish out this set he was kind of sort of paid for. He sat on a stool on stage, acoustic guitar in hand, mic in front of him. “Sorry for bailing out on you all earlier. I saw the love of my life running out of the wedding hall and I needed to catch her before I made the second biggest mistake of my life.”
Your eyes widened from the crowd where you were standing next to your brother and his husband. “The first was letting her go in the first place. I was young and apparently very stupid. I pushed the best thing that had ever happened to me out of my life and I’ve regretted that decision for the last eight years, twenty-six days..” He looked at his watch, “Ten hours, seven minutes, and 13- no 15 seconds.”
The crowd looked between the two of you, fascinated by the little tale the global rockstar was telling on this modest wedding stage. “I won’t be stupid this time. I promise to cherish every second that I’m blessed to have you in my life. I love you, Y/n. I have always loved you and I always will, no matter how much time passes.” You were holding back your tears. Jisung had always had your heart and despite you trying your best to keep your walls up, afraid that he would hurt you again, they all came tumbling down with every word that he spoke.
“So, to the grooms. I hope that the two of you continue this beautiful love affair and cherish every single second you have together. Love isn’t something we should push down and trample on, it's something that is meant to be held on to, prized, and exalted.” He cleared his voice. “So, this is for the lovers in the crowd…I hope you love last a lifetime. I hope it never fizzles or fades and burns bright for eternity.”
He strummed the first few chords of the song, the sound immediately bringing up fond memories of you and Jisung arguing over the best version of it, The Cure, 311, or Adele’s. You were always torn between 311 and Adele’s, while he was adamant that the original was far superior. It’s as if the rest of the world faded into the distance.
Call it tunnel vision, but all you could see was him and all he could see was you. You swayed gently, the gentle sea breeze dancing across your skin just like the melody of his voice. You hummed in tune with him, heart swelling as you realized, this song was for you. He was singing it, for you and only you.
“However far away I will always love you However long I stay I will always love you Whatever words I say I will always love you I will always love you…”
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You don’t remember the exact sequence of events but something clicked after Jisung’s solo performance. Maybe it was the look he gave you that made you feel like you were the center of his universe. Maybe it was the friendly banter you shared while having a few drinks. Maybe it was the late night stroll you took down to the beach or the way he held you to keep you warm. Or maybe it was the kiss you shared under the moonlight, the first of many for the night that got you going. But whatever it was that got you here, you were thankful for whatever combination it was that had you pressed against the door of your hotel room with Jisung’s lips and body pressed against yours. The feeling of his lips on yours felt electric.
In your youth, you often wondered how it would feel to have that plum lower lips of his between yours. What it might feel like to bite it, just wanting to see his reaction. His reaction was nothing short of mind boggling. The groan that passed his lips, caused you to groan in return. Jisung’s fingers trailed over your body, slowly exploring every inch he could. Every inch that his teenage body begged to explore even back then. Every inch that he dreamed about, steamy scenes that played behind his eyelids every night. He had to be closer to you, the absence of you in his life had left a gaping void that he needed to fill. Right here. Right now. In the very moment. His shirt was first. Tossed somewhere to the side, leaving the tattoos and muscles that he’d gained over the last eight years. Your eyes widened, distracted by the hard musculature he had developed.
Your fingers traveled from his shoulders down over his pecs, making him shiver and whimper. The sounds give you ideas that your heart didn’t want you to act on, but your mind gave you the full go ahead on. “When was the last time..” You asked, hand in the center of his chest as you guided him backwards. He looked back, afraid he would fall, but you grabbed his chin making sure he kept his eyes solely on you. You didn’t stop until the back of his legs hit the mattress, then all it took was a simple push. Jisung was at your will. His round eyes shining up at you with pure anticipation in them.
“When was the last time you had sex, Ji?” You took off your red blazer fist, tossing it on a nearby chair. Next came your vest, you slowly and methodically took your time with each button, simply because you could, but also because the only thing under it was your bra. His eyes darted around, he swallowed hard. His blood was rushing straight to bulge in his pants.
“I-I don’t know. I-it’s been a while..” He kept his statement vague, too overwhelmed by everything that was happening to pinpoint an exact date. “A year- I think. Maybe more.” You smirked, shrugging the vest off your shoulders and tossing it to be with your blazer. You reached down and grabbed his hands, placing them on the waistband of your trousers.
“Take them off.” Oh the look of panic in his eyes set your heart aflame. He was absolutely the cutest. And even though you weren’t normally one to take full control in situations like this, you were oh so looking forward to taking advantage of your dear friend's vulnerability. He was going to be your tonight. The man's trembling fingers reached for the button, almost too shaky to undo them. You were patient, running your fingers through his silky hair. It took him a few minutes, the cool cross-breeze from the open balcony window offering a little air to cool off the heat on your skin. “Panties too.” God, the way the words sounded as they entered his ears did more for him than anything ever did. He’d been waiting to hear those words forever at this point.
His brain nearly malfunctioned when he moved a little closer to slip off your panties, your scent filling his waiting nostrils. He could explode. Would you think bad of him if he came right now? He’d promise to make it up to you. He must have been led by another power, because he would swear that he had no body autonomy at that moment. His brain wasn’t even at a functioning level that would be considered functional.
You were bare before him, lust darkening your beautiful eyes. He whimpered. “Please..” He didn’t know what he was pleading for, but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy hearing it any less. He was pushed back on the bed, stripped of his pants and underwear. Things were going so fast in real life, but his brain had slowed everything else down.
He barely noticed that you had straddled him and started teasing your slit with his tip. He wasn’t even aware of the noises that were loudly slipping from his lips. Jisung was in a haze, one that was carefully crafted by you, the goddess that sat above him.
The whimper that fell from his lips when you slipped him inside of you was the most orgasmic sound to have ever filled your ears. His still shaking fingers flew to your hips, needing something to ground him at this moment. His blunt nails dug into your sides as you teased his tip, letting him dip only a part of it into your entrance. “God.. please…. Please…” He begged, voice strained and whiny.
He was definitely going to explode like this. He hadn’t even fully entered you and he was already losing his mind. He bit down on his bottom lip, eyes slipping closed as he tried to control himself. But his hips had other plans, he bucked up, pressing himself further into you and that was it, he came on the spot. The tight warmth was too much for him to handle at that moment. You pushed your hips down on him as he came, feeling the stream of cum coat your walls.
When his breathing calmed and his grip on your hips loosened, you pulled what little of him was inside of you out. Tsk’ing at the man underneath you. “Is my baby fucked out already?” You stroked his drenched cock, adding even more wetness by spitting on it. “You couldn’t even slip it in without coming, huh? What happened to that sex god of a rockstar everyone that you were?” He whimpered again, edging on overstimulation as you purposely targeted the head of his cock.
His fists were balled in the sheets, bottom lip chapped red from trying to bite into it. “S-stop, please..” You pouted at him before shaking your head. He deserved to torture just a little for all of the years the two of you missed out on doing this. You could have been his ages ago. His first girl and him as your first boy. But here you were eight years later, with a nice amount of experience under your wings. You were going to take full advantage of it. Jisung’s body convulsed as he came again. His body became rigid as he spurted his cum all over your lower stomach and hands. You jumped, surprised by the sheer amount of it.
You stuck your cum slick fingers in his open mouth, jolting his eyes open. His initial surprise melted as he enjoyed the taste of him on your skin. “Now, you are going to eat me out until I come. Got it?” You leaned down, grabbing his chin to make him look at you in the eyes. You opened his mouth and spit on his tongue, closing it back for him to accept it. You moved, lying down next to him. He wasted no time, getting between your legs expediently.
Jisung could die right now, happily. You were here with him, in the bed, his cum on your body and mingling with your own and pooling at your entrance. A feast, just for him. Everything and more than he could have ever asked for. He dove in, mind fogged with thoughts of you. Your taste. Your smell. That lustful yet dominant look in your eyes as you laced your fingers into his long, permed hair.
And the taste of you? It deserved five Michelin stars, two more than regular just because he said so. You tugged on his hair as he wrapped his plum little mouth around your clit. You used his hair as your anchor to move his head around as you saw fit. A hair pull to signal him to go faster, a pull to the left or right for him to move his tongue elsewhere. He was like your own little tongue flicking toy with a customizable setting. He lapped, sucked, and licked to both you and his content. His moans and whimpers almost outnumber yours.
He was in heaven between your legs, and would gladly mark his tombstone in this very place. His skilled tongue sent you barreling over the edge, your grip on his hair tightening to an almost painful level, but he didn’t complain. He was just happy that he was the one who was able to make you unfold like this.
Your other hand grabbed him by the neck, pulling him up to you for a passionate kiss. You could eat him alive if he let you. The hand in his hair slipped between the two of you. He had already started rutting his hips against you, desperate to feel you again. It was easy to grab him and slip him into you once again, but this time for real.
Your breath hitched as his eyes rolled back. Your fingers still around his neck squeezed lightly as you continued to unmake and reassemble him with your kisses. He felt like he could feel every single atom that made him, him. His hips were slow to move at first, but once he built his rhythm, that was that. The sound coming from between the two of you was filthy. Spit and cum and your spent were mixing to make the glide in and out of your tight walls even easier for him.
Your toes were curled, knees digging into his sides as you squeezed your legs around him. “Fill me up, Ji. Fuck me full of your love.” Your name slipped off his lips like a prayer at your words. He’d give you the moon and the stars if you kept talking to him like that. “Isn’t that what you've always wanted? To make me yours?” He nodded frantically. You paused your words, fluttering around him at a more consistent pace. You were close, both of you knew it. Both of you could feel it.
“Yo-you are mine.” He kissed at your jaw, “Please, co-come with me. I- I need you-” He couldn’t get his words out to finish his thoughts. He had already murmured the magic phrase. “You are mine.” You came around him, pulling your lips only a breath away, taking in the air that escaped his mouth into your own lungs like it was the only oxygen you needed. His followed almost immediately, your tight cunt draining him of any energy of essence he had left. Your walls continued to flutter around him, even after every drop of him had been emptied into you.
Your hands fell to your sides, legs unlocking from around him. You had nothing left to give, but love to the man you’d loved most of your life. He rolled off of you, body slick with perspiration and the mixed essence that both of you expelled. He exhaled deeply, hand searching for yours, finding it nearby and over the covers. He kissed the back of it, eyes boring into yours. Unspoken words being said with just a look. The both of you admitting what you both knew as this escapade started. You were in love.
_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲
“Encore! Encore! Encore!” The crowd chanted loudly. The lights in the stadium had just dimmed, signaling that the last song had been played. But they still begged for more. The band was backstage, goofy smiles on all of their faces. Adrenaline is still pulsing through their bodies.
“One more, guys?” Jisung asked and they all quickly agreed. One more song to end the night. They headed back on stage to an onslaught of rabid cheers. They had one more song up their sleeves. A song that eighteen year old Jisung had pinned himself, one that embodied the way he felt when he saw the heartbreak in your eyes when he pushed you away. He wanted to do nothing more than to wipe your tears, and hold your hand.
To tell you that everything would be okay. That he loved you, forever and always. Because to him, there was no him without you. He stood amongst his band on stage, belting the lyrics to the song. Eyes focused on the only person he wanted to see in a room full of people, the woman he loved. The person almost all of his songs were about. You, with that big proud smile plastered on your face.
“'Cause all I want is you, not your tears 눈물이 마를 때까지 I wanna make you the happiest one, no fear So baby, hold my hand now…”
FIN
![L O S E R [HJS]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/163f0e3661b98f778c588e7f4aa52d16/59cfa8cb896c8f8a-4d/s500x750/3082b395b1d23ee6cb1c0614b2cdae62aa73b376.png)
© ✐Channieskies 『MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. Please leave a like , comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this story.♥』
SONG CREDITS: ✻BIG BANG - LOSER ✻ONE OK ROCK - WHEREVER YOU ARE ✻HAN - VOLCANO ✻THE CURE: LOVESONG ✻HAN - HOLD MY HAND
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