Nct Dream Drabble - Tumblr Posts

mission wingman: failed ; lee jeno

pairing: lee jeno x fem! reader ; the rest of dream 00 line x fem! reader genre: best friends to lovers au, humor (poor attempt), fluff, mutual pining warnings: a LOT of swearing, the reader is most likely an aries with the lack of patience she has, mentions of food, minor injury, the abuse of adderall ?? word count: 4.5k (4.500)

summary: After hearing you whine about not having a boyfriend for what feels like eternity, your best friend, Lee Jeno, finds a new talent in him-- the art of being a wingman. His mission of finding the right one for you doesn’t go as well as he planned, and 3 failed dates later, you finally have enough. In other words, this is a story about the 3 times Lee Jeno offered you a bad date and the fourth time he finally decides to fix it.

Running at the speed of light, thighs burning and your insides screaming for air-- this is not how you imagined spending your Wednesday afternoon when you went out on a date. It’s a little after half-past five-- no, scratch that, it’s a lot after half-past five. It’s currently quarter to six and you think you are going to die of embarrassment because this is your first date in what feels like years and you managed to come late. Not only do you feel bad, but you also feel childishly pathetic with how you’re running down the street to the bus station where your date is waiting for you, but truth be told, it’s your only choice of transportation because you forgot to call a taxi in the hurry and if you just walked, you’re fairly certain the poor boy would be standing there until half-past seven.

The smiley face of no other than Na Jaemin-- because who else would you go on a date with in your senior year, right? --appears in front of your figure as you continue to jog closer to him. You don’t even mind how tired you are anymore, the pain makes you feel at least a little better about yourself now-- maybe you should try doing cardio more often to make up for your mistakes. Sounds like a thing to talk over with your therapist next time you meet her…

Quickly looking at your wrist to look at the time to see just how late you are so you can promptly apologize to your date, even though you’ve known him for more than three years now, your foot gets stuck in an uneven part of the road. You silently curse the government for not using your taxes to fill the holes with cement just a second before you prepare for the fall, because, in true reality, there’s no way that you-- the clumsy you that almost hung herself on the volleyball net in sophomore year of high school-- is going to save the situation and come out of all of this alive.

The pain in your knees and hands comes sooner than the feeling of shame. Your eyes fill with unshed tears and you wonder if it’s from the impact of the fall or the impact of your choices, your heart speeding up as Na Jaemin comes closer to you with a surprised look on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asks. It’s a simple question, really, but to you, to answer is harder than anything you’ve ever had to do in your whole entire life.

Because in all honesty-- are you really okay? Apart from the fact that you were furiously running to get to your date just a few seconds ago while not even being that much into the guy you’re meeting-- for obvious reasons we are going to go over in a second-- you are also very much emotionally scarred from the whole experience of embarrassing yourself not only in front of the most popular guy in your campus but also the whole town centre.

“Yeah, totally,” you lie. You feel like, after this, you’re never going to be okay again.

The boy then helps you to your feet with a scowl on his face that quickly turns into a grin he tries to hide after he sees your pained expression, your self-confidence falling even lower than the lowest bar it’s been at for the past few years, the sting in your palms and knees hurting more than your last period cramps with how his laughter only throws salt in the wound.

“I’m sorry for being late, by the way,” you manage to joke out, sarcasm spilling from your every word, when Jaemin hooks a hand under your shoulder and helps you walk a little further away from the middle of the street, helping you seat your poor ass down on the bench. He nervously chews on his bottom lip and chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

“When Jeno told me to take good care of you, I didn’t know he meant it so… literally,” he laughs, making you mentally curse yourself for getting yourself into this situation by agreeing to go on a date with your best friend’s friend from middle school because, in reality, you knew all along that this was going nowhere.

Why, you ask? Let’s backtrack a little to a day not even a week away from this horrific day, but still horrific enough to stand up to this one anyway.

You sit on the bed of your best friend-- the dorm looking rather clean since the last time you saw it only a few days before the finals-- the domesticity of it all making your bones hurt and brain swirl with the state you only wish to slap in the face, for you wouldn’t call it anything other than delusional.

Lee Jeno walks around the dorm in his damned grey sweatpants and it may even be doing some things to you, you’re a woman too, to say the least, one of his warm hoodies enclosing your figure even though you’re fairly certain there’s a jacket of your own somewhere in your backpack laying on the floor. The day is supposed to be filled with studying, but both of you know damn well that textbooks are going to be forgotten in few seconds as you bring out the newest gossip and mention the movie you’ve been wanting to watch as he slides out his laptop and logs into his roommates Netflix account-- poor Mark, you think, but abuse the Netflix privileges anyway-- in other words, you are going to soon feel like a teenage girl on a date. The sad thing is, though-- in your books, anyway-- that this is not a date.

You are not dating your best friend, even though you’d like to. Simple as that, really.

The movie playing on the screen flashes through like a distant memory, for you don’t think you’d be able to pay any attention to it even if you tried with how Jeno’s hand is around your shoulder and distantly drawing circles into your upper arm, when you notice the two characters kissing and decide to grunt out in discomfort.

“Dude, I wish I had a boyfriend,” you muse out. You’re a woman-- this is a hint, you think, maybe he’ll finally catch on and see through the lines. You are complaining about being single in front of your best friend because maybe, just maybe, you want him to fill that empty slot. That’s just a thought, though, really. Not anything serious…

“Hmm,” he hums, “I can try setting you up with some of my friends if you want,” he says, the expression he’s wearing a little too joyful with the sudden idea to your own liking, making you realise that 1) he did not get the hint and 2) he is really not into you with how much he seems to enjoy the sudden lightbulb moment he just had.

“Oh, no, you don’t- you don’t have to do that. I can find a boyfriend on my own, you know,” you mumble, rolling your eyes at him in annoyance to get the full effect across, when you feel a slight playful slap onto your shoulder.

“If that was the case, you wouldn’t be sitting here with me right now, watching this stupid rom-com. Trust me, I know you better than anyone, so when I tell you that you cannot find yourself a boyfriend for the life of you, I know what I’m talking about,” he rambles and drags you from the despairs of your soul, the pit in your stomach only deepening when he puts his head on your shoulder and nibbles on his bottom lip.

“Give me a few days. I’ll come up with something.”

And with how insistent your best friend can be, you don’t dare to tell him no anymore. It’s not that bad to at least try, right? It’s not like you’ve known all his friends ever since you were eleven, resulting in you also knowing you wouldn’t date any of them even if you were paid to do so. It’s also not like you’ve been madly in love with your best friend ever since you’ve heard him laugh for the first time at the sheer age of ten. No, you’d be foolish to think that.

“So?” Jeno looks at you through his eyelashes, a humongous grin sitting on his features as he awaits your next answer, not even being able to sit right in his spot with the excitement flowing through his veins making him look like a little puppy.

“So...?” you mimic him, not even going to give him the satisfaction of answering right away, even though you know damn well what he’s asking you about.

“Oh, cut the bullshit. How did the date go? Hm?” he asks again, kicking you a little under the table, completely ignoring the food on his plate going cold and the waiter eyeing him like he’s the finest meal in this restaurant. You wish you could ignore her hungry eyes just as well as he can, but you think it takes a lot of confidence to not fawn over every person that gives you at least a tiny amount of attention because you’re convinced you’d already be planning your wedding with the girl if you were at his place.

“Oh, you know, just…” you start, taking a bite of your food to make him even more irritated than he already is, “completely terribly, just how I predicted, but oh well…” you shrug, seeing his eyebrows furrowed and a confused look overtake his features.

“What went wrong? Do I need to beat up that bitch or..?” he asks, making you snort and almost choke on your food.

“Did you just call Na Jaemin that bitch?”

“And what about it? If he made you uncomfortable in any way, I’m ready to call him that even on his last day on this earth. So what went wrong, huh?” he asks, making you place down the fork and sigh heavily, looking him dead in the eyes.

“Well,” you start, “I kind of had to run to the date because I was late, and just when I went to greet him and tell him I’m sorry, I tripped and facepalmed onto the pavement like a fucking frog, so you know, that was neat,” you explain, annoyance filling the tone of your voice as you roll your eyes and take ahold of your fork again, continuing with your lunch.

Jeno snorts a little, trying to surpass his laughter, which only makes you angrier in the process as you kick him under the table. “Fucking laugh all you want, but it was terrible. Na Jaemin had to tend to my wounds like a fucking nurse in the middle of the town centre because my eyes kept tearing up and he was worried that I broke my bones.”

“Well, he does study medicine-”

“I don’t care, Jeno, I do not care. It was humiliating and terrible and I never want to go on a date with one of your friends ever again,” you pout. Perhaps you’re taking the situation a little too seriously for your own liking, but with how boring your life usually is, you thrive even from the tiniest hint of drama and this is surely a date for the memory books.

“Well, he wasn’t bad, though, was he? The fact that the date was bad was kind of your fault-”

“Don’t you dare tell me it’s my fault-”

“You fell in the middle of the sidewalk-”

“It was your idea to make me go on that stupid date in the first place!” you burst out, your voice raising and making the whole restaurant look at you in annoyance. You wish to flip out every single one of them with how your blood is boiling in your veins, but you chose not to, because you are well-behaved and not raised to be a nuisance to society.

“Okay, well, you and Jaemin weren’t a good match anyway, but I think you’d be great with-”

“I am not going on another date with your friends, Jeno,” you stop him mid-sentence, desperately holding onto the last bit of your dignity, but as the world works, you are left to be the one going into situations you didn’t even want to get into in the first place.

In other words, you did go on another date with one of his friends and it was just as horrific as the first one.

While Na Jaemin tried his hardest to make you believe he was at least a little interested in you-- even though you both knew that was not the case-- Huang Renjun is surely not the one to act for the sake of his friend. The short boy is currently sitting opposite of you, yawning at every sentence that comes out of your mouth, when your nerves finally snap and you decide to stand up for yourself.

“Why the fuck would you even take me on a date to a restaurant when you’re so bored of me now?” you ask, a scowl sitting on your face, heat rising to your cheeks in shame. You’re convinced that Lee Jeno’s wingman mission has been a disaster to you with how you’ve felt more embarrassment in the past two weeks than in your whole life and you kind of want to commit arson because of it, but your shame is quickly put beneath the ground when Renjun straightens his back and stares you into your eyes.

“I’m not bored at all, trust me, it’s just- well- I’ve been awake for approximately 37 hours now and in order to not miss our date, because I’m convinced Jeno would try to rip out my dick if I did, I’m abusing Adderall to keep me awake,” he completes his speech, chewing on his bottom lip as if he was waiting for you to scold him.

“Are you fucking kidding me- oh you know what, you’re Jeno’s friend. I’m not even surprised at this point,” you sigh and roll your eyes, resting your back on your chair and letting your eyes scan his tired face. You didn’t notice it before, but he does have some prominent dark circles under his eyes and you almost pity him and tell him to go home and sleep, because after all, this date is not going anywhere anyway.

“Why are you even awake for that long?” you ask him, eyebrows furrowed and biting on the inside of your cheek. You almost worry you’re going to have to call an ambulance for him soon, but with how calm he seems, it looks like he knows what he’s doing.

“I had a paper to finish,” he mumbles, “and I also lost a bet with Chenle-”

“You what?” you ask, afraid your ears are deceiving you.

“Hey! I did lose a bet, but I’m always fair and follow up with the consequences. I have to stay awake for 48 hours now because Chenle said so, and I’m-”

“You are psychopaths. Both of you,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. You always knew that Jeno’s friends were all crazy, but you didn’t know drug abuse was one of the things on the list of things you’d have to be concerned about.

You continue to talk to him like normal, because, well, he did go on a date with you, to a pretty restaurant, on top of that, but the more and more you talk to him, the more you see Renjun’s eyes drooping and his composure shifting into more and more tired. You can’t really blame him, 37 hours is a lot, but you kind of wish you didn’t have to sit here right now and babysit him so he doesn’t smash his head into the glass on the table.

When just that happens, though, and his head falls onto the table as he falls asleep, you don’t find it in you to stay. You’d much rather spend your evening at home than to watch a man sleeping, so you stand up from your seat and pay for both of your meals, telling the waitress that Renjun’s fine and didn’t die-- he’s just very, very tired.

Just as tired as you are of these dates, so it seems.

Walking down the street, Jeno trailing behind you like a lost puppy, you huff out in anger and hear his annoyed voice call out to you.

“Are you going to talk to me or not?” he asks, furrowed eyebrows and all-- it’s the Jeno you don’t see often, because you don’t often see him get so annoyed, but it’s also the Jeno that is rightfully here because ever since you picked him up at his dorm, you haven’t spoken a word to him and just let him follow you around.

“At least tell me how the date went, then,” he pleads, making your nerves finally snap, because after all of this, how does he even dare to ask you such a question?

“Oh god, Lee Jeno, can you stop with the date questions already?” you mourn out, close to tearing all of your hair out with how sick and tired you are of every single man walking this earth. It’s not like you wanted to date his friends anyway, but it would be nice to see at least one of them making some effort to make you feel like you are on a real date, and not only on a friendly hang-out your mutual friend forced you to attend just to keep his own heart at peace.

“Why? What happened this time?” he asks, irony seeping through his tone. How does he even dare to be the annoyed one? You’ve been wronged here!

You take a sharp U-turn and look him dead in the eyes, careful to make him believe just how furious you are with every single step he’s taken for the last few weeks, eyes fierce and tone of voice cold. “He fell asleep on the table, Jeno, so really, please, don’t ask me how my date went, because frankly, it went pretty fucking terrible.”

He sharply sighs through his teeth, a small hint of guilt sprawling over his features as he takes your words in. You wonder what his next argument is going to be, but you don’t let him even say it with your next words full of spite.

“And we are going to see the movie I’ve been wanting to watch now together because there’s no way I’m letting another one of your friends ruin something for me, okay? No questions, no arguments, let’s go,” you coldly explain, turning on your heel again, big steps following the journey to the cinema, as you hear your best friend call after you with a playful tone in his voice.

“Maybe you should just date me, you know,” he teases, not knowing just how much his sentence affects your lovesick heart.

“Yeah,” you huff, heat creeping up your cheeks, “maybe.”

You enter the dorm room you’ve never dreamt of visiting, the face of Lee Donghyuck welcoming you and telling you to take off your shoes before stepping in, as if the dorm wasn’t hideously dirty enough before. You wonder why you even agreed to come over here in the first place-- Jeno told you this is the last date he can, as your designated wingman, offer you, and so you managed to talk yourself into following up with his plan just so you could finally get over this weird phase in your life.

You know Lee Donghyuck well enough to know he’d never be into you. You also know him well enough to know he lives with Park Jisung and mentally thank all the gods from the above that he is not home right now, because that would make the whole date just two times more embarrassing.

“Oh well, make yourself at home,” Hyuck says as he takes a seat on the wooden desk in the corner of the room, the game in his computer telling you that the attention will definitely not be on you today-- not that you mind, of course.

“Do you wanna play with me?” he asks, eyebrows raised and a controller sitting comfortably in his hands. You contemplate his offer for a second before you agree and sit on the chair next to him, sighing in despair, but being glad for at least some sort of entertainment. You know Hyuck as the most competitive person on this whole entire planet, so you know damn well he won’t let you win just because you’re on a date right now, however strange it might be, and so you fight for your life and try to win on your own account.

You fail, of course.

“You could have at least let me win since we’re on a date, you know,” you roll your eyes, seeing the man next to you chuckle.

“Don’t tell me you actually treat this as a date.”

You furrow your brows, letting out a sigh. “Well, it is a date, so…”

“Yeah, but we both know we’re not into each other, so what’s the point? I’m only doing this so Jeno can get off my back, he keeps talking about this for the last month and I’m pretty over his constant whining,” he says, laughing a little and stretching in his chair. The hem of his hoodie rides up a little on his stomach and you’re fairly certain that if you were anybody else, you’d go crazy over the sight. But you’re just you-- and you are not into Lee Donghyuck. Just as he told you.

“Well, it would be nice to actually see any of you pay some effort, though. All I’ve been on the last three weeks were terrible, terrible dates and I’m so tired of all of this, Hyuck, you can’t even imagine,” you sigh, shaking your head in pure despair.

“Why would we? We all know that you’re not into us since you pretty much throw heart eyes at Mr Muscle Man whenever he’s around, and with how Jeno keeps lowkey gatekeeping you, I doubt he’s anywhere far from being in love with you, so-”

“What are you even talking about right now?” you ask, tired of all of their bullshit. It’s been a long month-- you doubt you even had this much interaction with men in your whole entire miserable life.

“Oh, don’t act like you’re totally not into Jeno. Everyone knows it. Hell, even Ryujin from our engineering class asked me if you’re dating Jeno because she would totally ask you on a date if you weren’t, so at this point, I think our Lee Jeno is the only one not aware,” he rambles, making you even more and more confused with every passing word, the blood in your veins spiralling out of control.

“Did a cat get your tongue? Come on, let’s play another round. If I beat you, you have to confess, so give it your best and let’s go.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re so bad at dating. You literally went on a date with every single guy our age I am friends with, and you still try to tell me you didn’t vibe with any of them?” Jeno complains, a defeated look on his face. When Hyuck told you Jeno is painfully oblivious, you knew he was on to something, but you didn’t really think it was that bad.

“Well, maybe it’s because you’re a bad wingman, I don’t know,” you mutter, too annoyed to even come up with a better comeback because, at this point, you’re just painfully tired.

“That can’t be the case… Really, I think I did my best. You know, I could have tried to hook you up with Han Jisung from my Politology class, but I think that he is secretly a stoner, so I decided against it-”

“For fuck’s sake, Jeno, stop with the dates already,” you whine, putting your head into your hands. Enough is enough and Jeno really doesn’t know when his time to shut up is.

“Why are you so annoyed with it, hm?” he asks, nudging you in the knee and making you efficiently ask yourself just why you are even into someone like him in the first place, “I thought you wanted a boyfriend.”

“I did,” you faintly let out, the lost bet at Lee Donghyuck’s dorm room suddenly appearing in your head, Huang Renjun’s words of bearing the consequences of lost bets following you as you realise that at this point, you finally have nothing to lose.

“And? I’m offering you guys to date, yet, you don’t like any of them-”

“Are you really that dense?” you ask, looking him deadly into his eyes, the serious tone of the conversation surprising even yourself as you prepare for the fall.

“What?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed. It’s hard to not fall for him when he looks so adorable, you realise, mentally wanting to slap yourself for fawning over him even in a situation like this, a few moments before getting your heart broken.

“Dude, don’t you get it? Seriously?” you huff out, furiously shaking your head in disbelief. “It was a hint. A hint, get it?”

“You are not making any sense-”

“When I told you I wanted a boyfriend, it was a hint for you,” you confess, looking him into his eyes and preparing for the rejection. It doesn’t arrive, though, with how Lee Jeno keeps staring at you in confusion, making you efficiently forget all the anxiety as it’s replaced with anger.

“A hint that I want you to be my boyfriend. What’s not clicking, you idiot?” you yell out, too furious to even remember you just confessed to your best friend. “You know what, forget it, all men are just so fucking oblivious and I can’t-”

“Wait, wait, wait, you’re-”

“I’m into you, Lee Jeno,” you finally proclaim to him, knowing that now is the moment you’re going to choke on your tears when he explains that he is not into you, when you see his cheeks redden and a bashful expression takes over his face.

“Well, in that case… I had one last date offer on my mind in order to try to find you a boyfriend,” he says, chuckling a little at his own wording, “with me, this time. I wasn’t sure if you’d like that, but now that you said all of this…”

You stare at him, dumbfounded, a stupid grin slowly creeping onto your lips, the disbelief still so present in your bones as you try to wrap your head around it.

Lee Jeno might just be the worst wingman in the history of wingmen, but if his last option was himself, you just might take on that offer.

“I’d… I’d like that, yeah.”

warning/s: overworking, mentions of bad habits like skipping meals and losing sleep.

[6:51 pm]

“you’re overworking yourself.” renjun simply huffs as he tugs on the sleeve of your shirt. he wasn’t wrong, but you had so many tasks due and you couldn’t help but glue yourself to your chair.

“just a few more minutes, ren. i promise i’ll come to bed, yeah?” your promises fell on death ears as he raises his eyebrow—clicking his tongue as he starts to tug even harder.

he didn’t like seeing you push yourself so much when he knew that it meant skipping meals, losing sleep and draining yourself of energy.

“woah—babe.” your boyfriend sighs as he catches you in his arms, your exhausted body nearly toppling over when you went to get up.

“it’s okay, i’ve got you.”

[1:09 am]

“are you sure you’re not cold?”

renjun’s concerned voice cuts through the silence of the night—a small cloud bursting past his lips.

your smile seems to calm his nerves, the tight squeeze you give his hand eases the wrinkle between his brows, “i’m fine, ren.”

he nods, pulling your hand into his jacket pocket nonetheless. you had refused his jacket knowing how sensitive your boyfriend was, but that only worried him a little more.

“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” his whisper brushes against your ear—it was almost inaudible, but you heard him.

“babe… that’s a street lamp.”

snow ducks — pjs.

in which park jisung loved snow ducks, but he loved you more.

a/n: merry christmas to those who celebrate! i’m back after almost a year (LOL) to drop this jack frost!jisung au that’s been rotting in my drafts ever since he’d dyed his hair for glimo T_T

warning/s: f!reader x jisung, mild profanity (like one or two), not proofread, fluff & angst if you squint, jisung and reader are CLUELESS, insinuations of a rough past, jisung as jack frost (because this is a warning in and of itself)

jisung couldn’t have imagined getting used to a life where no one knew his name. a life where everyone seemed to walk right through his body even when he was standing directly in front of them, his dark blue jacket hanging loosely on his body—bare feet feeling numb despite the cold concrete beneath them.

alas, he didn’t really have a choice. waking up to the man in the moon telling him that he was special? that’s what thrusted him into his new lifestyle.

“jack frost?” the curious tone of a short brown haired girl tore his attention away from his dwindling thoughts—she was staring cluelessly up at her father, who watched her from the family’s porch.

jisung huffs, a small smirk already pulling at his lips. he’s heard this conversation a thousand times, but he was always curious as to how each parent would spin the story and he in-turn was pleasantly surprised at the amount of different takes each parent would tell their kids.

the man clears his throat before repeating the same old folklore the people of the city had made up about the white haired boy, yet with a new-found twist. “if you stay outside too long, jack frost will come and freeze you up!”

this makes the teenage boy chuckle, his staff hanging freely on his fingertips. sure, he can cause a blizzard with just the touch of them thanks to the man in the moon, but even he wouldn’t do that to a little girl. though, his sharp eyes watches her gasp before she rushes up from her spot in front of their house, the snow beneath her feet crackles as she giggles into her dads arms.

jisung doesn’t know what makes his heart freeze, the lonely feeling he gets from the heartwarming family gesture—or the snowstorm he seems to be brewing over the city of pennsylvania.

—

“you were out again?”

jisung sighs. he didn’t want to be sitting through another one of the tooth fairy’s lectures and with this one being his third of the week, he could probably recite her lecture off the top of his head.

her wings were fluttering rapidly as her cheeks tinted pink with how frustrated she was with him. “you didn’t throw snowballs at a child’s head again did you?”

a laugh almost bubbles from his lips. almost.

“that was one time! and they had fun didn’t they?” the boy grins as he twirls the small snowflakes around in the air above his fingers. he watches as she relaxes a tiny bit, her wings still making the slight fluttering noise he’s learned to drown out. the green fairy sighs, tired from having to say the same thing over and over again to the michievous boy standing in front of her with absolutely no care in the world.

“don’t let north find out, okay? he’ll rip your head right off.” she ends her lecture short with a small murmur, which catches jisung off guard. her bright smile flashes at him before she’s whisked away by one of her many fairies.

being a guardian wasn’t always easy, he was a teenage boy for god’s sake and having to deal with everything a boy his age does on top of having to be a ‘role model’ for millions of kids out in the world—meant finding time for him to just be himself, the teenage jisung park, was a scarce opportunity. he knew the tooth fairy only meant well, they all did, even the easter bunny. but he felt like they didn’t understand. they didn’t know about the grip his past had on him, a past that he isn’t even fully aware about yet. they didn’t know that sometimes all he yearns for are answers to who he really is.

but despite all this, he picks up his staff with his gaze trailing over the hundreds of elves scattered across the north pole.

and the white haired boy is gone—with only a small snowflake left in his place.

—

over the years, jisung’s learned to ignore the ache in his chest that longs to search for the answers to the questions swirling in his head. instead, he enjoys walking in the silence of the night—the glow from sandman’s magic lights his path as he prods at the floor beneath him.

he welcomes the cold, the one thing that has brought him comfort over these last few years. watching the ice create beautiful shapes on the pavement strangely relaxes him as he hums a soft song he doesn’t remember, though his heart seems to recognize the familiar tune.

“great job, sandy.” jisung whispers into the dead of the night, watching proudly as the yellow sand sifts into each house he passes by.

the boy lifts himself into the air with little to no effort. he lets a chuckle slip past his lips as his fingers feel through the sandman’s ‘dream trail’ as he likes to call it. jisung has always admired him, his power to soothe children and provide them with heart warming dreams to keep their sleep from being distrupted.

on nights like this, cold and lonely ones, he misses his home deeply. he knows it sounds ridiculous, to miss a home he doesn’t even remember, but he dreams that he had a family. one that would snuggle under one blanket on nights like this one—one that would wake each other up on christmas day because north or ‘santa’ had decided to pay them a visit.

he’s snapped out of his daydream though when he spots you sitting in front of your house. jisung’s never been one to keep track of time, but judging off the dream trail, he was pretty sure that it was late enough for no one to be out. you seemed to be busying yourself with something in the snow, so he takes this as his sign to drop down from the wires he’d been standing on previously.

“ducks?” he’s confused when he sees enough ducks made of snow sitting in a straight line, all of them nearly identical to each other.

his curious mind pushes him to wander towards your hunched figure, but something in him makes him cautious—almost like approaching you was a mistake.

jisung chooses to ignore the unfamiliar feeling, his feet making no marks in the snow as he squats next to you, his staff standing tall next to both of your figures.

his eyes linger on your face, the top of your head was covered in a black beanie with a pom pom sitting at the top. you were clad in your pajamas and a jacket—an outfit that kind of matched his—your cheeks and nose were both stained pink from the cold, but your eyes shimmered in happiness as you continued to make another duck.

“you kind of look like a ryan to me..?” he’s startled by the warmth in your voice, followed by the soft giggles that left your lips.

he could tell you were his age, something he oddly never encounters. he’s used to seeing toddlers running and playing around in the snow, so the weird feeling of familiarity settles in his chest as you put down the duck-making-contraption to blow some warmth into your hands.

you don’t seem to notice him, not like he expected you to, but it’s when you whisper something into the cold air that has him rooted to his place on the ground.

“i hope you still like ducks, ‘sung. i made too many for you to not like them anymore! happy birthday, wherever you are.”

and you disappear back into your house after picking up your contraption.

—

“how would she even know who i am?! i sure as hell don’t know who she is!” jisung was close to ripping the frosty white hair off his head and his feet were burning the solid floor of the north pole from the amount of pacing he’s been doing since he had gotten there an hour before all the elves had woken up and gotten to work.

north’s jaw ticks as he sighs for what felt like the millionth time that morning. “for the last time, jack, she probably means someone else! it’s not like you’re the only “jisung” in the world.”

the rest of the guardians bob their heads in aggreement, soft murmurs of their own comments all mesh into one—but jisung decides against them all. he felt a physical pull towards you, the shape of your face, the way you spoke and the way your eyes shone in the moonlight… all those things felt so familiar, but he was driving himself crazy as to why it all felt the way it did.

“i’m telling you. she knows who i am!”

he was frustrated. the feeling of familiarity in his chest was addicting and so very comforting. he wanted to know who you were—how you knew him—well, he was so sure that he was the “‘sung” you were talking about.

his heart was racing so loudly that it was pumping in his ears. the questions that were screaming at him made his head spin. it wasn’t like the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t remember his past. this… this was world’s apart from that.

despite it all, jisung’s pacing seems to slow to a stop before his eyes narrow into slits. the silence of a certain green fairy was enough for his mind to swirl with a couple thousand more questions.

his gaze hardens like the ice he’s able to create with his fingertips, “you know something.”

the phrase comes out bitter and demanding. something the younger boy has never used especially around any of the guardians. he watches as the fairy’s eyes dart to everything in the room except him, explanations spilling from her mouth.

“no i don’t! who said i did? was it one of my own? because there’s absolutely noooo way i know anything! nothing! nada! zer—“

the tooth fairy bites her lip as she watches jisung’s grip tighten on the wooden staff.

“park,” north’s voice is low, the warning clear in his tone. he loves jisung like he would love his own son if he had one, but he would not and will not tolerate him hurting any of the other guardians.

not like he could ever do that.

“you’re going to tell me what you know right now.” the frustration is evident in his voice. he was tired of being left in the dark—forced to fend for himself when that’s all he’s been doing for so long. too long.

the fairy fiddles with her fingers, her wings flapping at an even faster rate behind her. “i-i don’t know much. but—i have your teeth. f-from when you were just jisung park.”

the world seems to slow to a stop. jisung’s read about it happening in some books he found in the nooks and crannies of the north pole, but he hadn’t expected it to feel like it did.

he knew what that meant. she had once told him that all the teeth she had collected from each kid held a memory from their lives. the collection of memories all locked in the gold tube he used to gaze at with so much curiosity, the memories unlocked by one touch of his finger.

the silence was suffocating him—and suddenly he couldn’t breathe.

“jisung. you have to calm down.”

the worried gaze of the easter bunny somewhat helps him, though his rapid breaths were starting to be difficult on his lungs. hearing how something so crucial to figuring out his past, to figuring out who he is, was kept from him by someone he’s kept so close for the past few years seemed to be crushing him.

“y-you… you had the answers to my questions all this time… and you didn’t… you didn’t tell me?” heartbreak drips from his tone. all those nights he spent trying to shut out the loud thoughts in his head—all of which could’ve been solved if the tooth fairy had just told him what she just did.

“we wanted you to embrace who you are now, jack. you’re a guardian now, it doesn’t matter what happened in the past—“

“that’s not for you to decide!” his rough shout startles everyone in the room, even some of the elves. his eyes sting from the unshed tears he’s determined to keep from rolling down his cheeks.

“it wasn’t your right to take that from me. those are my memories, my past, my life!” jisung’s breathing hard now. the intensity of how painful this secret was overbearing. and the fact that everyone knew? not just the tooth fairy? that’s what hurt him most.

he scoffs, the grip on his staff tightening as he lifts his hood up above his head.

“i can’t believe any of you.” he ignores the way they all scramble after him, pleading for him to calm down—he needed to be somewhere else, anywhere else but in a room full of people who just shattered his already bruised heart.

—

you couldn’t stand the cold. you prefer to be out on a sunny and warm day than to play in the snow while simultaneously freezing to death.

so why were you standing out in the cold?

you wished you could say that you didn’t know. that somehow, the cold just brought you some source of comfort and that you couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason as to why. but you did know. you know that you’re out here because of a certain boy and how he always loved the snow. how he knew how to handle himself on ice, even when it was freezing and his teeth were chattering.

“y/n? come back inside, dear. it’s freezing!” the voice of your mother pulls you from your everlasting thoughts of the boy you loved, as it almost always did.

you turn to look at her and you see the pity in her eyes. you know she can tell whenever you start to get out of sorts over your best friend who went missing four years ago now. she’s seen the ducks left out, just like you do for every birthday that’s passed without him.

“i’ll be in in a minute, mom.” you smile, a genuine one, soaking in the cold for a little bit more when you hear your front door gently closing after a soft reply from your mom.

you hadn’t known what happened to your best friend, and he never got the justice you felt he deserved. but him disappearing without a trace seemed to scream ‘runaway!’ to the police, so his case was dropped, much to yours and your family’s devastation. you still remember the day you found out he disappeared like it was yesterday.

“where’s this boy at?” your irritated sigh is acxompanied with a white puff from your mouth, the cold atmosphere made your breath visible as your teeth chattered and your fingers trembled.

despite it all, you were there. waiting in front of the fountain of your town like you always do when winter starts.

‘hello! this is jisung, i don’t seem to have heard your call or—shit y/n cut that out! sorry uh… leave your message at the beep, okay bye!’

“damn it.” the frustration was settling in, your eyes gazing at the digital numbers taunting you on your phone. it’s almost been an hour since you were supposed to meet jisung here—either he had forgotten your plans, or he simply liked to torture you because he knew how much you hated the cold—and if it was the latter, you were certain you’d kill him.

your phone rings in your hands and you hurriedly pick up, expecting to hear your best friends deep voice scrambling with apologies.

“jisu—“

“…honey? where are you? mrs. park just called to say that jisung’s gone missing…”

your life hasn’t been the same ever since. you never heard a peep from the boy—and even after a whole year of you texting his number, someone else eventually answered, regretfully telling you that they weren’t jisung, but an older lady named kira.

which was a weird experience, but your parents were glad that you had finally let go of texting your missing best friend. they knew you would take the news the hardest. you were head over heels for this boy, and seeing as how you both were attached at the hip—they were worried for how you’d cope.

and they’ve settled that you making ducks out of snow once a year seems to be the perfect way to cope for you.

“this is stupid,” you mutter, more to yourself than anyone in particular. you gaze at the perfectly lined up ducks. eighteen of them.

that’s how old jisung would’ve turned that year.

when your fingers start to feel numb, the cold air seeming to get even colder, you decide that maybe it’s time to head back inside. you glance one more time over at the eighteen ducks sitting neatly at the front of your porch. a small flicker in you hopes that one day, they somehow bring jisung home.

—

he didn’t know what he was doing here. after all that happened in the north pole, he just let the wind take him anywhere. his mind was too busy to figure out where he’d stay before returning back to the north pole when everything was sorted out in his mind and heart.

and that’s how he finds himself standing next to you. his hood is up and his tight grip on his staff causes you to let out a small shiver.

he can tell you’re feeling somber, your eyes weren’t as happy as they were when he first saw you and your gaze seemed to linger at nothing in particular.

he watches as you purse your lips before slowly heading back inside. jisung didn’t know who you were, but being next to you warmed his freezing heart with a sense of familiarity he hasn’t felt in so long.

“eighteen…” his soft mumble is heard by no one, he had counted the ducks you had lined up by your house.

he wonders why you had decided to make that many, but a small smile tugs at his lips when he uses his magic to create a small pile of snow around the ducks, forming a small fence around all of them.

jisung’s torn from his thoughts when he hears soft chatter coming from the inside of your house, his curiosity getting the better of him while he stands to steal a glance from your window.

“hey hon. do you want to pay jisung a visit?” an older man looks directly at you as he fixes his tie, your slightly smaller stature stands in front of him, clad in the same outfit he saw you standing in earlier—minus a set of blue gloves.

the mention of his name has him attempting to hear your conversation better. he strains to hear over his racing heart, but he hears you reply with a hesitant ‘sure’. even from where he’s standing, he can see the fear in your eyes. he doesn’t exactly know why they glisten with unshed tears and he looks away as your family gathers around you in a group hug. he felt like he was intruding an important family moment.

he’s not sure how much time has passed with how he was trying hard not to eavesdrop, but your front door suddenly nudges open, surprising him almost enough to drop his staff.

“you made a little fence?” jisung hears the grin on your mom’s face and he turns to you to find you staring at his little creation around your ducks.

your face is turned down into a frown, your hands clad in the blue gloves you were wearing the first time he saw you that day. “i didn’t.”

this seems to silence your parents as they watch you with curious eyes. you looked conflicted, almost as if you didn’t know whether or not you liked the fact that someone had added to your small creation.

“well… then maybe jack frost did it?”

jisung perks up at the mention of his name, (well his alter ego’s name, you could say) his jaw slacks at the playful tone your father had taken when talking about him. but your eyes immediately roll into the back of your head.

“yeah, whatever.” the last word was mumbled underneath your breath, but he heard it loud and clear. he couldn’t understand why you not believing in him hurt the most, even when he knew you didn’t just by the fact that you couldn’t see him.

he watches dejectedly as your family gets into your car, you taking the back seat while your family sit in the front. your head bobs to music that was probably playing on the radio, and all he could do is stand on your porch as your dad drives you all away.

—

“let me see my memories.” the tone he’s chosen to use wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t harsh either.

jisung’s staring straight at the tooth fairy, who was in the middle of sorting out a problem with her baby fairies. she stills and purses her lips, looking at the teenage boy with red-rimmed eyes.

he’s had enough of the lies, tired of the way the rest of the guardians seem to think they can decide what he wants to do with who he is and the past that holds the answers to everything he had questioned the man in the moon ever since he had become jack frost.

“what happened, jisung?” her concern is waved off by the cold boy, the grip on his staff was tightening. “please, toothiana.”

his low whisper gets to her. he never calls her by her name unless things get too difiicult, for either of them. she could hear the pain hidden by his tough front, but she could tell that the boy was having an incredibly hard time.

“you’ve kept this from me for long enough. i’m tired of having to… look towards the moon and get no response every night for something i know is right here with you—!” his voice strains from the pain he’s trying so hard to hide from her.

the fairy sighs—conflicted by the care she holds for him and her duty to protect him. “…okay.”

jisung was fairly surprised by how quickly she agreed to him, but she wasn’t sure if she should even be allowing him to see his memories, strict rules from north was taunting her mind. but, with one more glance at jisung, she knows that she just doesn’t have the heart to keep it from him.

he watches silently as she flutters over to the hidden cases of teeth she had collected over the years, her fingers skimming over thousands of tabs—one shiny case slipping out into her awaiting hands.

“just… we’re here for you, jisung. okay? if you need us…” the fairy gently places the gold tube in his hands before leaving him alone to discover the memories lying in the gold case.

he wasn’t sure about what was preventing him from diving head first into his memories, but his gaze remained trained on the small image on the side of the tube, one that looked like his younger self. the silence he was left with seemed to scream at him to touch the white surface.

‘sung! jisung, where are you?!

he wanted to call out to the voice, tell them that he was right here and that he was doing just fine. he could hear the panic in the unfamiliar voice despite it being muffled and quiet.

being in this moment scared him more than anything ever has—he could have his memories in his hands right now and they were all at the touch of his fingertips. but the idea of it all overwhelmed him, pushing his heart to rage against his chest.

jisung… where did you go?

“i’m right here.” his whisper is heard by no one.

—

“that’s so stupid!” the room is filled with giggles as the boy attempts to flip whipped cream up from the back of his hand and into his mouth.

with a cute frown, “it is not! and it’s so possible.” jisung rolls his eyes, slapping his wrist and missing for the hundredth time.

this only causes the two kids to fall into even more fits of giggles, the whipped cream landing on the young boy’s forehead. he looked incredibly silly, but nothing could have prepared the younger girl for how adorable he looked, despite it all.

“shouldn’t you get going? or do you wanna stay over tonight?” she breaks the comfortable atmosphere with the tough question. the girl knew how sensitive the topic of jisung’s parents were, which is why she attempted to avoid it as much as she could. but it was late, and if he didn’t go home now, he would for sure be in trouble.

his deep sigh is what meets the soft question, and though he tries to hide behind a smile, she knew he was hurting.

“is it okay if i stay over?”

she never asks why, but that’s why jisung’s so lucky to have the girl sitting in front of him. his question is met by a soft nod from her, eliciting his lips to tug into a small smile.

“you’re the best.”

the sliver of a memory soothes one of jisung’s many curiosities. the small gold case he’s holding opened up one of his many lost memories, one that he knows was treasured by his younger self. the sight of the faceless girl haunts his mind as he imagines the memory over and over again. who was she to him?

“damn it,” jisung huffs when he feels frustrated tears sting at his eyes.

he could tell by the one memory he allowed himself to see—that the reason the guardians were hiding this from him, was because of the difficult past he was dealt with. he may not remember any of it, but slowly it was piecing itself together.

—

you hated this day. and with every year that passes, you’d wonder if it would ever get easier, but it never does. seeing your best friend’s name engraved on a tombstone was never an easy sight. it never failed to bring you to tears.

your parents would always carry a new boquet of hyacinths, jisung’s favorite flower according to you. the three of you would arrive at his grave, a different boquet already sitting at the feet of his tombstone.

you had your hands in your pockets and your gaze settled on the floor—so you didn’t notice a certain white haired boy who had settled himself on your porch.

“woah. what the hell?!” your loud voice seems to go ignored by your parents as they head into your house. your heart was racing at the sight of the unknown boy who seemed just as startled as you were.

jisung’s eyes are blown wide as he stares back at you, “y-you can see me…?”

you’re clutching at your jacket as you stare at him, bewildered. what the hell?

“yes i can see you, y-you freak! who the hell are you?!”

he stumbles as he picks up his staff, the hood resting on his head falls as he slowly steps off your porch. “shh, dude. you have to be quiet.”

jisung doesn’t know what he’s doing. he came here to get some piece of mind—and when your car came rolling up your driveway, he wasn’t expecting you to see him.

“you expect me to be quiet when you’re just mmf—!”

both of you are surprised when jisung surges forward and covers your mouth with his hand. you’re stunned at his action, his palm feeling cold as ice against your skin.

“no one else sees me. i don’t know why you do, though. so you have to shut up.” he’s quiet now, his eyes turning to your front door, trying to see if your parents were going to come out at any moment.

“who the hell are you?” your voice is slightly calm now, the boy stands sheepishly in front of you. his silence gives you a moment to look him over, a ridiculous wooden staff is sitting between his fingers—a blue hoodie clads his skinny figure and his feet were bare against the white snow covering your front yard.

“i’m—uh… jack..?” he watches, amused at how you seem to stare at him with disbelief.

“jack?” you whisper, your jaw unclenches as he nods at your question. an easy smile dancing on his lips.

he honestly has no idea what he’s doing. but he does know that he’s enjoying it.

“yeah! jack frost, ever heard of me?” he smiles lazily. it wasn’t everyday that he could introduce himself as the fairytale that he seems to have become over the past for years to anyone.

your frown is instant. jisung watched as your eyes danced across his face, taking in the familiarity of his older, colder features.

he expected anything. maybe a jaw drop. maybe a gasp, maybe even an eyebrow raise with some questioning as to whether or not he was serious.

what he didn’t expect though, was for your eyes to widen before your body crumpled to the ground.

—

the warmth of your bed is the first thing that you register when you wake from the strangest dream.

you’d seen jisung. you were sure of it. his hair was as white as snow, and he stared at you with not one hint of recognition—just mischief and a little disbelief at the idea of you seeing him.

“jack…” your murmur disturbed the silence of your bedroom. sitting up, your blanket fell off your shoulders. you were still in the clothes you wore to jisung’s grave, and the moonlight spilling into your room was the only source of light that illuminated your space.

confusion and sadness wraps itself around your heart as you try and shake the feelings that your dream had welcomed back into your head.

unbeknownst to you, frost begins to form on the corners of your closed window as a certain white haired boy perches himself on your roof—his grip on his wooden staff tightening at your quiet whisper.

he didn’t know who you were—not up until a few days ago, anyway. so why did a flash of recognition cross your eyes before you tumbled to the ground?

was that his confirmation that he was the jisung you were talking about? but how?

the jisung you knew was dead. and he was very much alive. albeit, invisible to everyone, but alive. except he wasn’t invisible to you.

the cold boy’s eyes wandered up to the moon, glaring at it as it seemed to be taunting him from above. how could he possibly have more questions now that he’d watched one memory from his stupid golden tooth capsule?

with one last huff (and a glance towards your now peaceful figure tucked away underneath your blanket), jisung stands—and lets the air take him far away from your house.

—

“jisung! don’t go so fast!”

giggles erupt into the air as jisung grips onto the girl’s arms, leading them both across the frozen water.

his smile was bright enough to light up the darkest of nights, watching as the girl struggles to balance herself on the slipper surface.

“you’re alright.” he murmurs to her, grinning as a splash of pink settles on her cheeks.

the girl shakes her head, her grip on his arms tightening as she feels their speed start to pick up once more. “i swear to God, park jisung, if we fall—“

“don’t worry, darling. i won’t ever let you fall.”

“jack?” the tooth fairy’s tentative voice cracks jisung’s concentration as he shuts the golden capsule shut.

she eyes him, watching as he buries what he felt by what he saw deep beneath his surface. he clears his throat before shoving the capsule into the pocket that rests on the bottom of his sweater.

“what’s up?”

her wings flutter furiously as she flies herself over to him. “are… are you alright?”

and the concern in her voice—pisses him off.

“yeah. never better.” jisung smiles at her, allowing his frustration to coat his words and drip off them.

he watches as she flinches at the harshness of his words, her mouth forming a slight pout, and guilt tugs at his heart. he sighs, trying to shake the frustration from his mind.

“i’m sorry.” he murmurs, turning away from the fairy to reel back his emotions. technically, it wasn’t her fault that the memory of the girl was flawed. so it wasn’t fair to the tooth fairy that he was taking his frustrations out on her.

she smiles slightly, reaching up to fluff his hair.

“i’m sorry too, jack.”

their eyes meet and he feels his resolve cracking just a tiny bit. he had always loved the tooth fairy in a sort of, sisterly kind of way, even when she’d piss him off a lot of the time.

she bites her lip, her wings fluttering as she brings herself back down to her feet.

“…did opening your tooth box help with anything?” she asks hesitantly, unsure of how he’d taken the weight of his past.

jisung swallows. his grip on the golden capsule tightens as he avoids her gaze.

“it… it actually raised a lot more questions.” he sighs, his jaw clenching as the image of the faceless girl forces its way back into his mind.

the tooth fairy frowns, watching him closely. “how so?”

“i haven’t actually fully opened it. i could only let myself see two memories,” she nods, listening intently as jisung runs his hand through his hair.

he bites his lip, a frown making its way onto his face before he continued, “both of which had this girl. we were inseparable, apparently. but in both memories her face is blurred.”

the green fairy sighs. “that does happen to some tooth boxes. either the memories are tampered with time, or they were simply memories that the child wanted to block out. but you did say that you and the girl seemed close? i wonder why younger you had wanted to block those memories out…”

jisung’s eyes fall closed, frustration swirling beneath his chest once more.

he’d taken his tooth box in hopes for answers. and yet here he stands, more and more questions filling his mind—and suffocating his peace.

—

“you’re here.”

your voice came out breathless, though you didn’t mean for it to be. jisung was sitting on your fence, snowflakes flying from his fingertips and his staff at his feet.

his eyes darted to your figure and his lips turned up into a grin. “hello to you too!”

your heart stutters in your chest. so it wasn’t a dream.

jisung grins when he hops off your fence to make his way to you. his staff hanging comfortably from his hands. there was a sense of familiarity that drew him to you, a weird feeling that oddly—reminded him of home.

“you, good lady, happen to be one of the only humans that can see me.” jisung smiles wider when he reaches to stand right in front of you. your neck cranes to look into his eyes, and it satisfies a small part of him that he chooses to ignore.

“good lady?” jisung laughs as you cringe, pushing the hood off his head.

“y’know, like good sir?” you roll your eyes as jisung nods his head to the pile of snow in front of the two of you.

your eyes widen as they finally register the sheer amount of ducks that have been spread across your yard. “what… the?”

jisung laughs and scratches the back of his neck as he watches your reaction carefully.

“i saw you that day. you were making ducks with that contraption of yours—figured it’d be a lot faster if i made them for you.”

you’re still staring at the snow ducks, all in different shapes and sizes, your voice having evaded your throat.

jisung shuffles on his feet, unsure of what to make of your silence. he flicks his fingers at the ducks and watches happily as they come to life.

“this is… this is awesome, jack.”

he stiffens at the name, but smiles nonetheless. you step forward to crouch closer to the ducks, laughing when some of them waddle around you. jisung grins, flicking his wrist to create even more magic with the snow that shoots from his fingertips.

your giggles fill the air as he makes snow glide through the air, before bursting into tiny snowflakes that glitter as the sunshine hits them.

jisung?

the oddly familiar voice distracts the white haired boy, his fingers freezing in the air. you’re still distracted by the snowflakes when jisung feels for the tooth box in his pocket.

‘sung, where’d you go?

“i-i gotta go. i forgot i had some place to be.” he murmurs, tugging the hood of his hoodie back over his head.

your eyes linger on the little ducks all over your feet, “alright. when will i—?”

when you finally tear your eyes away from the snow, the icy boy is nowhere to be found.

—

i… i’m right here.

it was weirdly quiet. jisung felt like he was floating, which was definitely not something he was used to. his eyes were closed, and he couldn’t seem to peel them open.

“park jisung, i swear if you’re hiding just to scare me, i’m going to kill you!”

y/n. where were you? your voice sounded so far away.

it was cold. jisung felt the bite of the freezing winter air, but he didn’t feel the need to care at all.

“‘sung, seriously…” you sounded annoyed. but he was right there.

i’m here!

jisung was convinced that he was trapped in a dream. he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes, or to reply to your annoyed cries.

then he heard your phone ring—a heartbroken gasp tumbles past your lips, and hurried footsteps fade farther and farther away from him.

y/n! i’m right here…

“y/n.” jisung gasps, the tooth box slipping from his fingers. the truth slams into him and brings him to his knees.

your last memory of him, was that he’d ditched you. the revelation wraps around his heart as tears push their way past his strong exterior.

for years he had longed to know who he had been before the man in the moon chose him to be a guardian. for years he longed for a family—one that knew him as park jisung and not as jack frost.

and now, the answers to his prayers were right there, within his reach.

“jack?” north’s deep voice brings him out of the haze he was drowning in.

tears were blurring his vision, but he stood, grabbing his staff before wiping them off with his sleeve. “i… i have a family.”

jisung’s soft voice brings a small smile onto north’s face. the rest of the guardians had been just that all their lives, guardians. jack—jisung, had been the only one who was turned into a guardian after a tragedy that had struck his life.

north had hoped to keep him in the dark for as long as possible, though he knew it was never going to end up that way. when jisung was first introduced as a guardian, he had been so clueless—so accepting of his fate as jack frost, that north had felt it’d been best to allow him to learn to love himself as jack frost, even if that meant not knowing who he was as park jisung.

he had, obviously, been wrong.

“go, ji.”

jisung’s sobs (embarrassingly) get louder, surging forward to wrap his arms around north.

“thank you, north.”

—

something told jisung that you weren’t home. even though he passed by, eyeing the car that sat in your driveway.

the cold winter air was leading him some place else. some place closer to the girl that seemed to feel more and more like home.

“i miss you, ‘sung.”

your lonely whisper just manages to reach his ears as he slows to a stop a couple feet away from where you sat.

his eyes wandered past your seated figure, slowly taking in where the wind had taken him.

a frozen over lake. one that he knew quite well.

it was cold. jisung felt the bite of the freezing winter air, but he didn’t feel the need to care at all.

“where’d you go, ‘sung?” your heartbroken whisper echoes through the empty lake once more, and urges jisung to move closer to you.

“i’m right here.”

you’re startled—your head whips towards his figure before you’re up on your feet. you’re frowning at him, but all he can do is smile warmly back at you.

“jack? what are you—“

he moves forward, flicking his wrists to form makeshift ice skates on your feet. jisung has no idea what he’s doing, but he moves swiftly and hurriedly—transferring the two of you onto the frozen lake.

“jack!” your gasp is full of fear, your hands gripping onto his forearms as jisung glides the two of you across the frozen water.

“i’m so sorry it took me this long to remember you. to remember us, y/n.” jisung’s murmur is quiet, the cold winter air suddenly heats as your eyes find his despite the fear of falling.

it takes a second, but the truth hits you just as hard as it had him a couple hours before.

park jisung was in front of you. his brown hair hair was swapped with strands that were white as snow, his eyes were blue instead of their usual dark brown and his feet were bare—but there was no doubting the sweet smile that etched itself onto his lips and the dimples that came with it.

“…’sung?”

your whisper is breathless once more, and the smile that curves jisung’s lips could not be sweeter.

“hi, darling.”

—

w.c 1.0k | fluff

[ 4:29pm ] soft music plays from the old radio on the counter, and you quietly hum along as the wooden spoon in your hand flows smoothly through the pot on the stovetop in front of you. the noodles begin to soften and collectively swirl around in the boiling liquid in a whirlpool of broth and vegetables. the hearty aroma of the brewing soup drifts through the air, and there’s no doubt in your mind he’ll smell it from his room down the hall.

without missing a beat, the creaking of the floor boards and the shuffling of his fuzzy socks interrupts the steady flow of mindless music as he creeps closer towards the kitchen. you tip a shaker of seasoning over the pot, not turning to greet the sick boy because he should be in bed.

haechan muffles a sloppy sneeze before entering, stumbling up behind you.

“lee donghyuck,” you sternly address him, twisting the knob on the stove down to the lowest notch before turning around to face your ill partner. you cross your arms over your chest, and haechan sticks his lower lip out in a pout; he knows what you’re going to say.

“go back to bed.”

haechan crinkles his nose up in a sniffle, rubbing his face with the blanket he cloaked himself in. his hair is a nest of knots, sticking up every which way. his bangs stick to his forehead and kiss the tops of his flushed cheeks. his nose is red and irritated- as he’s been blowing it all day- and his eyes are droopy, like he could fall asleep standing upright. although he’s wrapped in a fluffy blanket, you see that all he’s wearing is a t-shirt, boxers, and socks he hadn’t bothered to match. he shakes his head from side to side, tufts of hair flopping. he crosses his arms under his blanket, mimicking you.

you roll your eyes, turning to continue tending to your cooking. “you really shouldn’t be out of bed, donghyuck. you can’t even talk,” you assert, dipping a ladle into the pot of soup. haechan suddenly swings his arms around you from behind, cocooning you in his blanket along with him, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“i can talk,” he retorts in a raspy and borderline inaudible voice; he’d just proved your point. you raise an eyebrow at him, but he buries his face into your neck as if he knows the look on your face reads ‘i told you so.’ haechan groans into your shoulder, blowing hot air onto your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. his bedhead tickles the spot on your neck just under your ear. you wiggle your arm free to push the tangled mess of his hair away from your neck, but it just flops back into place. you huff, and haechan chuckles.

“babe, you’re gonna get me sick.” he only tightens his grip on you.

“go back to bed, hyuck.”

“no,” he groans, muffled by your clothing.

“alright, kid. no soup for you, then.” you scoop up the ladle so it’s full, wafting the steam toward you to inhale it, deeply and loudly, teasing him. he’s not watching, but he knows what you’re doing.

“more for me!” you sing, bringing it up to your lips. just as you’re about to sip it, haechan sinks his teeth into your collarbone. you yelp, and the ladle slips from your grasp, causing broth to splash up from the pot. when you lift your hands to wipe the bit of soup that met your face, haechan lifts the ladle and slurps soup obnoxiously loudly, smirking at you. you glare at him as he beams, rubbing his stomach happily.

“mmmmm,” he hums sarcastically. you drop your jaw in faux animosity.

“that’s it, back to bed with you!” you link his arm with yours after plucking the ladle from his hand, and tug him out of the kitchen. he leans his head on your shoulder as you lead him to his bedroom, filling the narrow hallway with the sound of his sly snickering from the craftiness of his own joke.

you pull him into the bedroom, met with a collection of used tissues and cold medicine and a video game tune softly playing from the tv. you unhook your arm from haechan, moving the game controller to the floor and tossing all of his trash into the bin, tidying up the area to make it feel a little more inviting to your stubborn boyfriend. haechan glances down at the disarray of pillows and blankets and releases a more-than-whiny sigh.

“come on, babe,” you encourage him, pulling back his duvet for him. “you need your beauty sleep if you wanna stay that pretty,” you ruffle his jungle of hair. haechan huffs, slumping down into the bed reluctantly, laying on his back. you pull the duvet back up, laying it on top of him and his head sinks heavily onto his pillow. as you turn to leave the room, you feel a tug on your pajama pants. looking down at him, he blinks up at you a few times with big, sleepy, brown puppy dog eyes.

“i’m coming right back with your soup, baby,” you promise him sweetly, attempting to pry his hand from your pants. he only whines again, twisting his fingers in the soft fabric.

you shake your head, crookedly grinning at the sleepy boy’s desperation, and lean down to press a light kiss to the tip of haechan’s nose. he smiles proudly, as if he’s just saved the world, and snuggles up into his blankets.

the trip back to the kitchen takes no more than five minutes, but even so, haechan is fast asleep when you return. you step in quietly, careful not to disturb him, and set the bowl of soup on his desk along with the extra cold medicine you picked up from the bathroom. haechan snores a bit, most likely due to his stuffy nose, and he shifts to lay on his side. he draws in a long congested breath, letting it out in a big sigh.

you lower yourself onto the bed, picking up the game controller. taking precaution to not wake him, you mute the game’s volume before unpausing and continuing where he left off. as you lay back, haechan drapes his duvet over the both of you, resting his chin on top of your head and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“if i get sick, you’re taking care of me.”

he hums happily. “deal.”

w.c 0.8k | fluff

[ 3:38am ] around the twenty-fifth minute of attempting to calm your heartbeat back into a normal pace, you feel that staring at the wall of the bedroom has started to become overly boring, considering it hadn’t been very exciting initially. unfortunately, it wasn't doing a great job of clearing your mind either. you let out a defeated sigh into the dead bedroom air when you glance at the time, noticing it almost couldn’t be farther from morning. your head falls frustratedly into the plush of the pillow you clutch against your chest.

just then you feel jeno shift around in the sheets, and you let your eyes find him. his lips part in a gentle snore, head tilted to the side with an arm draped above it between the headboard and his tousled black hair. his position on his back allows you to see his chest rise and fall with his docile breathing; he looks so peaceful that your heart swells. you don’t want to disturb him, but you’ve exhausted your options. the cup of tea you’d made in hopes of relief grows cold on your bedside table, and every time you close your eyes you feel dizzy.

so you lay back from your crisscrossed position, shuffling a little closer to your snoozing boyfriend.

“jeno,” you breathe. nothing.

“jenooo,” you whisper again, a little louder this time, tapping softly on his chest. jeno’s lips just close in a ‘hm’ sound, the hand that’s not tangled in his bed head sliding up from his stomach to bump your hand. your nose scrunches up in a silent laugh.

you press a feathery kiss to his jaw in a gentle attempt to wake him. his eyebrows draw together and he groans sleepily as you gradually pull him from his slumber.

“are you awake?” you tease. a lazy smile pulls on jeno’s lips as he reaches up to rub his eye, and he chuckles.

“mmno, fast asleep,” he answers hoarsely. you let your head fall, resting in the crook of jeno’s neck, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s waist to squeeze him in a hug. jeno hums, running his fingers up and down your side under the hem of your shirt.

jeno turns his head to look at you, his sweet, sleepy eyes meeting your puffy ones. when he notices that you’ve been crying, he brings his hand up to run his thumb across your cheek. you lean into his touch.

“what's wrong, baby?”

a twinge of embarrassment pricks at you, and you swallow. “bad dream. m’sorry,” you mutter against his skin.

“don’t be sorry, pretty girl. you know you can always wake me up if you need me,” he gives you a drowsy smile, pressing a kiss to your pouty lips. “tell me about it, get it off your chest.”

jeno pulls the blanket up and rests it atop the both of you, your two bodies snuggling into one. his hands dip under to lightly trace shapes into your back, head heavy on his pillow and his eyelids droopy. you rest your head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat, steady and rhythmic like a metronome. it puts you a little more at ease.

jeno listens to every word as you describe what had happened in your dream; every odd plotline that made no sense when taken from snippets in your head and put into a somewhat cohesive sentence, but he hummed every so often to let you know he was following along.

“i know it sounds stupid, but it just-“ you gulp, feeling a bit nervous saying that a silly dream made you so uneasy.

“its not stupid,” jeno stops you. “a dream like that would freak me out, too.” his arms snake tighter around your waist to pull you in closer to him. “but im right here. nothing can hurt you as long as i love you.” his calming voice is muffled by your hair as he peppers kisses along your forehead. “and i’ll love you forever.”

a moment of quiet passes. not the aching, strangling quiet from after you’d first woken up, but a much more peaceful type of quiet.

“i think i’m dreaming now,” jeno muses after a while. you blink up at him, confused.

“there’s an angel right in front of me,” a drowsy grin pulls on jeno’s lips.

you can’t help the small blush that blooms on your cheeks, and you smirk.

“are you flirting with me?”

“me? flirting? with an angel? i could never,” jeno feigns innocence, all the while his smile says otherwise.

“go back to bed,” you roll your eyes, pushing jeno’s face away graciously. he just chuckles into your palm, pressing a sweet kiss to it.

“you first,” jeno hums happily, letting you nuzzle back into him. soon enough, jeno’s warmth lulls you back to sleep once again, his words still in your mind keeping the bad dreams at bay.

strawberry lemonade » njm

genre | smut (mdni!!), jaemin x reader

word count | 2.1k

summary | you and your group of friends are on the run from the police, and jaemin’s neediness comes to light at the worst time (or the best time, depending on how you look at it)

there honestly isn’t too much actual plot, but it is loosely based on the japanese limitless mv and the go mv (assuming the members are legal ofc)

warnings | smut, afab!reader, somewhat public sex ig?, unprotected sex, swearing, jaemin is a bit of a menace (god i adore him)

lemon has never been your favorite flavor.

though you do prefer it over grape or cotton candy, you were still pouty when those were the only three options left to choose from the small bunch of lollipops that had been snatched from the 24 hour convenience store. and despite your sweet tooth, a small feeling of dissatisfaction lingers as the candy rolls across your tongue.

jaemin- who shared your luck and had to settle for a flavor he also felt disinterest for- watches from beside you as you reluctantly roll your own sweet around in your mouth, your eyes lazily following the group of rowdy boys surrounding you, shouting to each other in the echoey expanse of the abandoned train station you’re taking refuge in, and chasing each other around the crackling bonfire renjun had built in the middle of the grimy cement floor. you tuck your bare legs up into the large hoodie you’d taken from jaemin earlier that day in a futile attempt to protect yourself from the chill that sweeps the air. jaemin’s heart rate picks up at the sight of the muscles in your jaw moving as you rest your chin on your knees, the knowledge of your tongue swirling making him imagine something far less innocent.

you turn to look at jaemin when you notice he’s staring, and he must have picked up on the downturn of your lips at the tangy, bitter taste in your mouth as your eyes meet his. he knowingly smirks, the stick in his own mouth poking out from the corner of his lips. his hand cups your cheek, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you so close to him that he feels the heat from your cheeks on his own.

jaemin connects your lips in a sugary kiss, making your mind whirl. with a swift move of his tongue and a tug on your chilled lips as he pulls away, the strawberry lemonade taste that floods your mouth makes your heart skip a beat. a quiet sigh falls from your lips, a bit of fog rising in the crisp midnight air. you hope that maybe jaemin hadn’t picked up on the familiar warm feeling that pooled in your stomach as the new fruitier flavor from the candy he’d skillfully swapped tints your pretty lips a sweet shade of pink, but the smirk that crosses his own lips once more tells you that he’s not at all oblivious to his effect on you.

“gross, get a room you two,” haechan calls out, very obviously addressing the only couple in the room and drawing the attention from a few of the boys over to where you're sat. the sudden attention makes you nervous, and you bury your face in jaemin’s neck.

“don't be so shy, pretty girl,” jaemin hums, his voice so low only you can pick it up. his hand finds your jaw, lifting your face to bring your eyes back to his own.

“they want a show, so why not give them one, yeah?”

before you can even react, a blinding red light floods the room in rhythmic flashes, accompanied by a deafening alarm that startles everyone into a bewildered silence. all movements in the room come to a screeching halt.

seven heads then turn in unison as mark bursts in from an adjacent room a split second later, wide eyed and panicked. “it’s the cops!”

“how the fuck did they find us? i thought the alarm system was disabled!” chenle yells between alarm blares.

“it was supposed to be, someone probably just wasn’t careful enough!” jeno calls. a few disoriented glances are exchanged among the group and everyone looks in the same direction, toward the youngest.

“what?” jisung is confused for a moment under everyone’s stares, but catches on quickly. “me!? hey, i-”

“we don’t have time to argue!” mark interrupts. “we need to leave! now!”

in an instant, everyone’s split off in separate directions in an attempt to escape unseen. jaemin stands, pulling you up by both arms, and leads you in a leap down onto the train tracks and away in a sprint.

the chaos makes your heart hammer against your ribs as you run alongside jaemin, the painful thumping of your feet on the tracks synching with the pulse in your ears. the surrounding area alternates between pitch black and neon red, making it difficult to decipher where to go next. the train tunnel feels dishearteningly endless, and it does a great job of making your lungs burn as if they’re full of hot ash.

finally you come across a set of creaky metal stairs on the wall that leads up to a door. you fumble up the stairs, gasping for breath, and practically tumble through the door.

you curse under your uneven breath when it's only a small, cramped room on the other side. a dead end. you contemplate for a second, your brain a jumbled mess. ultimately deciding to turn back and keep running in search of a safe exit, you expect jaemin to follow, until his hand suddenly grabs your wrist and pulls you back in an abrupt halt.

you stumble over your feet, turning back to look at the boy who’s already staring at you once again, his eyes bright and sparkling under the red light each time it illuminates them. the two of you had managed to make it to an area of the station where the alarm doesn't quite reach, but you can still hear it ever so faintly in the distance like a whisper, making the room feel that much more liminal and surreal.

“jaem, what are you-”

before you can finish your lips are together again in another sugar coated kiss. your knees wobble at the intensity. the way jaemin’s lips move against yours, warm and wet and needy, sends the message of exactly what he wants through your bloodstream. he pulls back, breath hot on your lips. the heat in your stomach ignites again with even higher fervency.

you open your eyes. he’s biting his bottom lip. the fiery light that paints his face matches the vibe.

“wha- here? now? i-”

jaemin’s hands slide up your thighs and under the hem of his low hanging hoodie you’re wearing, hooking his fingers through the belt loops on your shorts. all thoughts in your mind suddenly disappear and a gasp rises in your throat. his hips grind against yours, and what you feel behind his jeans makes you admittedly buzz with more adrenaline than you already had been. his thumbs brush your waistline, dipping below to tug at the band of your panties. you’re melting under his lava-like touch. even if you wanted to, you couldn’t say no to him.

jaemin sees this in the way your eyes light up with wonder, and he knows he’s got you where he wants you. he hoists you up to sit you on a table against the wall, and his hands make quick work of unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down to fall at his feet.

“jaem, wait, the boys are going to worry if we don’t-“

“don’t worry about that, baby,” he dismisses, grabbing your bare thighs to wrap your legs around him. he feels you grab his shoulders and your legs quiver with nerves as they hook around his waist. he looks up at you; he sees that you’re hesitant, and stops.

“we’ll be okay, pretty girl.” jaemin brings his hand up to your cheek, drawing your eyes from looking around the room and back to his face. “you trust me, yeah?”

even if the situation seems a bit.. unorthodox, you always trust jaemin; and if there was one thing you knew about him its the fact that hes always searching for a new experience. you can't deny the strange combination of adrenaline and lust you feel running through your body. you nod, leaning into his touch.

jaemin smiles. “tell me to stop and i will, sweet girl.”

his hand finds its way to the nape of your neck to bring your head down and meld your lips with his. the kiss is more gentle this time, and the fingers of his free hand skate up your leg leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, making you shiver. using this arm to hook around you and keep you pressed between himself and the wall behind you, his other hand suddenly makes its appearance at your core that you'd momentarily forgotten was now exposed.

jaemin slips two fingers in to start, easy due to the amount of wetness already present there. you whine when he curls them, drawing in and out slowly. his mouth travels down to your neck to suck at the sensitive skin under your ear. your eyes flutter closed and your head falls forward against his shoulder. the pulsing red light behind your eyelids makes you feel like you’re suspended in a dream. the feeling was already so ethereal; jaemin knew your body like it was an incantation he’d spent his entire life memorizing.

as he works you open on his fingers, jaemin uses his other hand to pull down his pants and let his cock spring loose. after a few pumps in his fist he aligns with your entrance and slides in with ease. you cry out into his shoulder when he hits the right spot with just a single thrust.

“shhhh baby,” his warm breath hits your ear. you bite down hard on your tongue.

jaemin rocks his hips at a leisurely pace, making sure you feel every inch of him moving in and out of your folds. the sound of your slick meddles with the shuddering breaths you take in and out in sync with the roll of his hips.

suddenly you hear a stampede of heavy footsteps on the other side of the door. your head perks up to listen, but when you hear echoing voices that don’t match those of your friends your heart begins to hammer. you try to speak but only incoherent whimpers fall from your lips, and jaemin brings a hand up to clamp over your mouth.

“relax, babygirl,” he whispers. “you’re okay, you just have to stay quiet. can you do that?” his voice is so soothing that it calms you a bit. you nod again, his hand moving up and down with your head.

jaemin has kept a steady pace, but without warning he thrusts into you hard, ripping a sob from your throat that's muffled by his palm. the bright light of a flashlight begins to flicker through the crack between the door and the wall. your eyes widen with worry, and when you look back at your boyfriend you’re met with a mischievous smirk, his mouth open and panting, his tongue poking out from the corner of his lips. he keeps your mouth covered as he begins to thrust faster and harder than before, testing the limits of what he can get away with. your eyes screw shut and your brow furrows, your fingers digging harshly into his shoulders as you desperately attempt to keep yourself together.

whether or not the voices behind the door being indecipherable is because of your delirium in this moment is a mystery to you. but, as always, jaemin knows exactly what he’s doing, and its almost impossible to bring yourself to care about anything other than the feeling of him. the telltale buildup in your gut is approaching fast, and you know jaemin is close as well by the way his fingers are surely bruising your hip and the quiet groans he’s letting out.

the footsteps eventually fade away and you feel the tension in your chest subside. the tension in your stomach however continues to rapidly build. jaemin’s thumb is then on your pussy, rubbing swift circles on your clit, and all at once you’re forced headfirst over the crest and your orgasm washes over you. you whimper hysterically into jaemin’s palm, pressing your sweaty forehead against his as he helps you ride it out. as you clench around jaemin’s length he lets go as well, a long drawn out growl erupting in his chest as he releases inside you.

you collapse into him, gasping heavily for air when jaemin finally takes his hand away from your mouth. he’s panting all the same, pressing kisses to your head as you both return to earth together.

jaemin then feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket, and he answers it before it can make too much noise.

“where the fuck are you guys?” you hear mark ask on the other end.

jaemin turns his head to look at you, slumped against his shoulder in your post-cum drowse. he rubs your back softly, giving you a lazy smile.

“hiding,” he responds. “y/n was a little afraid we would get caught.”

you scoff at jaemin’s audacious comment, slapping him on the chest. he just chuckles, pressing another kiss to your hairline.

teacher’s pet » mkl

genre | smut (mdni!!), college professor!mark x student!reader

word count | 1.7k

summary | you’re infatuated by your english literature professor, and your grade is suffering because of it, so you decide to talk to him about it

warnings | smut, afab!reader and female pronouns, oral (f receiving)

now playing 💿 teacher’s pet by melanie martinez

“professor lee,” your words are delicate as they fall from your lips, and you do nothing to suppress the nervous smile that appears on your face when he looks up at you over the rim of his glasses.

class has just ended, and the other students have just finished filtering out. the air feels thick despite the fact its now only you two in the room. “may i talk to you about something, sir?” you fiddle with the cuffs of your sweater as you stand at the front of his desk.

“of course,” he replies with a friendly smile. he sets down his pen and rises from his chair, moving swiftly around the desk and taking a seat on the edge, right in front of you. suddenly you’re hyper aware of how he’s now at eye level with you. he clasps his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees, and leans forward a bit to hear what you have to say.

“what’s on your mind?”

all of a sudden, you seize up. you’ve never had to talk to him in private before, and you’re frozen under his kind brown eyes that are fixed entirely on you. you attempt to get any coherent string of words out, but your mouth will just not respond. after a second of silence he lets out a gentle chuckle, and your cheeks flare with heat.

“taking a wild guess here, this is about your grade, yeah?”

a little ashamed that he already knows, you give him a timid nod. “yes, sir.”

“i’ve seen your transcripts, i know you’re a very smart girl, y/n. but your grade in this class just doesn’t reflect that.” as he speaks he adjusts his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. you stare at his fingers as they move. “i’ve been meaning to ask you about it for a while.”

“i, i-huhm,” you gulp, praying that he can’t tell how nervous you are in his presence. your chest begins to tighten up, attempting to stutter out any morsel of an excuse. you lower your head in embarrassment, fidgeting with the fabric of your skirt. he must have noticed the way your breathing involuntarily stutters.

“hey, it’s alright, sweetheart,” you hear him say, and you feel his fingers brush against your hand. your heart flutters as you feel him gently pull you forward, closer to him. a gasp catches in your throat as you snap your head up to look at him, your eyes wide and body temperature rising as you’re now standing between his legs.

his hand holds yours gently on his knee, thumb brushing across your knuckles. his free hand rises to brush your hair off your shoulder. you swear your legs could betray you at any second.

“i’m here to help you, okay? but you have to tell me what’s going on.” theres a tone in his voice and a warmth in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. his aura is so… loving.

“i think- uhm,” you swallow hard. “i think i’m just a bit distracted is all.”

he hums in thought. you feel your resolve starting to crumble at a pace that’s impossible to recover from. as your eyes dip down to his lips, you notice the way they tip up in a teasing smile.

“what’s distracting you?” his words are slow, heavy.

hot blood rushes through your veins. you can practically feel your pupils dilate. “i wish i could answer that,” you breathe.

english literature had never been your forte as it is, but now that mr. lee- the genuinely most heart stopping man you’ve ever seen- is teaching that subject, it was as if you couldn’t write an intelligible sentence to save your life. you never would have expected a simple professor your sophomore year of college to have such a destructive effect on your grade, as well as your sanity.

coursework is something you can just never will yourself to focus on when he is in the same room. how he sticks the stem of his glasses between his teeth while he grades papers, the way his forearms flex when he leans against a table, that deep voice of his rambling on and on about god knows what while you’re sat in your seat, practically drooling on the end of your pen and rubbing your thighs together as you can only dream of the things you wanted him to do to you.

how can you tell him that he is your distraction?

“you can tell me, i promise.”

your brain is full of fog. you no longer have enough sense to decipher whether or not you’re being completely delusional in thinking he wants exactly what you do. but theres such a strong force pulling you in, weighing you down that you just can’t bring yourself to fight it anymore.

so with not a single thought in your mind other than just your utter need for him, you can’t stop yourself from swiftly leaning forward and stealing his lips in a kiss.

you pull away as soon as you realize what’s happened, ready to babble out some sort of justification for having done something so inappropriate, but you notice one of his hands now lays on your cheek, and the other that held yours has pulled you in even closer, your fingers now resting on his upper thigh. his eyelids are low, breath heavy, glasses fogged.

in a split second you’ve gripped his button up shirt in your fists and pulled your chests together with full force, your lips moving desperately against his. he slides both his large hands around your waist, venturing down to where your skirt falls. you feel his fingertips brush against your skin, digging into the plush of your thighs just below your underwear. you groan into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and practically rutting against him for any sort of friction you can find.

he takes this as a hint, gripping the back of your legs and hoisting you up as he stands. you cling to him, fervently kissing him as if he’d disappear if you separated. his hands knead your flesh under your skirt, kissing with you with equal messy hunger.

the kiss breaks once more when he makes it to the other side of his desk, plopping you down in his wheeled office chair. you squeeze the fabric of his collar in your fingers, chasing his lips when they pull away from yours.

“i’ve got some extra credit for you, sweetheart,” your professor says, your chin held between his fingers as you gawk up at him towering over you. face flushed and lips raw, he grins deviously at you from above. you gaze at him like he’s an angel in disguise. “you think you can earn it?”

“yes, sir.”

“good girl,” he purrs, lowering himself to the floor in front of you. your breath quickens, pussy beating with desire at just the mere image of your professor on his knees before you. the loving aura he had is now gone, replaced with nothing but lust.

his eyes are trained solely on your face as he flips your skirt up, revealing your lacy white panties that are already soaked, leaking onto the faux leather of the seat.

“is this okay?” he asks you. you nod frantically.

he smirks at your eager reaction, hooking his fingers under the hem of your panties to pull them down your shaking legs. you whimper sweetly as his fingers trace ever so lightly against your dripping entrance. but you whine as the tender friction disappears, and he’s suddenly right next to you, hot breath tickling your ear.

“you have to be quiet, pretty girl, do you think you can do that for me?” he warns. you arch your back, nails digging into the arm rests, begging for him to continue.

“yes, sir,” you mewl once more.

he hums in satisfaction, placing a hot kiss on your jaw. sweat collects on your hairline as you watch him loosen the black tie around his neck, whipping it off his shirt so harshly it cracks against the tiled floor. the silky fabric covers your mouth as he presses it to your face, and ties it in a tight knot at the back of your head.

needy whimpers of anticipation bleed into the cloth around your mouth as he lowers himself between your legs. the moment his tongue finally meets your weeping core you choke out a muffled cry. as his tongue delves in he groans against your skin, the deep vibration making your head fall back and your eyes squeeze shut. he keeps his hands on your trembling thighs to keep the wheels from moving, sinking his fingers into your soft skin.

your own hands move from their place on the arm rests into his blond hair, raking and yanking as you mercilessly attempt to ground yourself despite the bold pace he’s already moving at. your breath feels muggy against your skin as its trapped in your mouth as you moan.

each second that passes as your professor devours you makes it harder to keep yourself quiet. his tongue swirls faster and faster with little warning, his nose brushing your clit with every bob of his head. a dull buzzing begins to simmer inside you and you just know you’re making an absolute mess of his face.

rapidly approaching release, one of your hands finds purchase on the edge of the desk, gripping so hard your knuckles burn white. the other stays in his hair, tugging him impossibly closer to your core. he notices you’re close, and shifts his tongue up to focus solely on your clit. tears start to spill through your lashes and down your red cheeks as you cum on your professor’s face, and he works you through your orgasm while lewd, pathetic whines are stifled by your makeshift muzzle.

panting heavily, you shiver as he tugs the tie down to hang loosely around your neck, a string of saliva connecting to your lips. you open your eyes and blush when you’re met with his face, covered and glistening from your juices, the lenses of his glasses still cloudy. his pretty wet mouth grins at you, a hand coming up to wipe away the tear stains.

“such a good student, you’re my sweet little teachers pet, yeah?”

between the sheets » ldh

genre | smut (mdni!!), haechan x reader

word count | 2.2k

summary | you find yourself chased out of your apartment in the dead of night, and desperately seeking a place to sleep, you somehow wind up at haechan’s door

warnings | smut, afab!reader and female pronouns, fingering + handjob, basically the “only one bed” trope, tiny mention of alcohol but no drinking

the time reads 2:47 am.

there’s not a single person, or even evidence of one, in sight. the empty expanse of the hall is left in cold silence, besides the torrent of the rain and hail against the window panes. the stale air feels as though it chills you down to the bone. you squeeze your eyes shut, as the burning glow of the fluorescent lights makes them sting, and you bury your face in the blanket you have draped around you like a cape.

you heave a heavy sigh, banging your fist against the door in front of you again, louder this time. you know haechan isn’t a light sleeper, but he lives in your apartment complex and it’s the only place you could think to go at this time of night in this severe of a storm. you’d called him a few times, but with no answer to any of them you assumed he slept through each ring.

you begin to become frustrated, lowering yourself to plop down and sit criss-cross on the dingy carpet. a strike of lightening cracks through the eerie darkness outside the window, a deep boom of thunder following soon after. contemplating your next move, you rest your head in your palms. the fatigue starts crawling to your head; the strange calm of the harsh rain could lull you to sleep right here if you let it.

you decide to try calling haechan one more time. “hyuckie” displays on the screen as you rest your phone on your knee, growing more hopeless with each second it continues to ring. even if it means you have to camp out in the hallway, there’s no way you’re going back to your apartment.

finally the phone stops ringing, and you hear rustling on the other end of the line. you perk up, grabbing the phone off of your leg to lift it to your ear.

“whaaaat?” haechan answers, audibly tired.

“hey, um,” you start timidly. “can you let me in? i’m outside.”

you weren’t sure what you had expected his response to be, and really, there wasn’t one. he just ends the call, and for a fleeting second your heart drops.

until you hear muffled noises deep within his apartment. you glance up at the door and lean in to listen a little closer.

shuffling. haechan’s sleepy grumbling. a faint thump. “oww!” he whines, and you assume he’s stubbed his toe on his coffee table. you breathe a sigh of relief as you hear him coming closer.

the door swings open, revealing a very exhausted looking haechan. your eyes trail up his fleece pajama pants and white tshirt to his face. he squints against the bright light, looking down at you through one eye as he rubs the other with the side of his hand. you give him a sheepish smile from the floor, watching him balance himself against the doorway. you wonder what he could possibly be thinking upon seeing you, sitting desperately at his doorstep, wearing nothing but a thin top and shorts, and a throw blanket veiled over your hunched shoulders.

“what are you doing?” he grumbles softly, sifting his fingers through his sloppy hair. thunder rumbles through the sky again, vibrating the walls around you.

you bring yourself up from the floor, pulling your small blanket tighter around yourself. “i’m sorry, can i- is it okay if i- if i sleep here?” you ask with a small hesitant voice, suddenly realizing that you really didn't have a plan for what to say if he opened the door.

haechan’s brow furrows. the wheels almost visibly struggle to turn in his drowsy head. a moment of harsh quiet hangs in the air between you.

“please?” you finally speak, more hushed this time.

his gaze on you softens just a bit after hearing your plea. you aren’t quite sure why it changed so suddenly; maybe the desperation was on your face, or maybe he picked up on how your voice was an inch from breaking.

“yeah, uh- yeah of course,” he answers, and he steps back from the doorway to allow you inside. you give him a small smile and breathe a relieved “thank you” as you slip past him.

dull, cloudy moonlight filters through the large windows, replacing the buzzing white light from the hall as haechan closes the door behind him. you allow your eyes to adjust to the new darkness, maneuvering your way around the furniture to sit yourself on his couch. he turns and walks the other way with a quiet hum, making his way to his kitchen.

as you situate yourself on the cushions, you feel uneasy. you were no stranger to haechan or his apartment- you weren’t even a stranger to sleeping on this very couch, but that had always been accompanied by having just a bit too much liquor in your blood and a few more wasted friends littered across the floor.

you'd never seen his apartment so…still.

you try your best to snuggle comfortably into your small blanket, folding your legs up beside you and leaning to lay your head on the arm rest. as you do, haechan emerges from around the corner and makes a lazy trail back to his bedroom with a bottle of water swinging in his hand.

but he stops and turns around, his eyes landing on you, curled up in the corner of his couch.

“what are you doing?” he questions a second time.

“what do you mean?”

silence lingers once more. he cracks his bottle open, taking a few thick gulps. he leans back against the wall as he screws the cap back on.

“why are you on the couch? get up, come on.”

confusion wracks your brain. haechan casually approaches you and holds out his hand. as you stare at it for a moment, dumbfounded, you finally understand what he means.

“no- no its okay, i don’t want to be any more of a burden-“

haechan says your name, simple and soft, and you stop short.

“it’s freezing, i’m not letting you sleep on the couch. come on.”

something feels different.

you look up at him, standing over you. this is haechan- the look, the voice, everything. the very same haechan you’ve known all these years. lee donghyuck, who you’ve adored since you first met him. he’s loud and sarcastic and at times even a bit full of himself.

but in this moment, he’s… gentle. you melt under his gaze.

you raise your hand to take his, and he leads you to his room without another word.

stepping into haechan’s bedroom is like taking a leap of faith. its unknown to you, like unexplored waters. its cozier than you assumed it would be. a homey sort of smell wafts into you as he guides you toward the bed, and a mellow light glows from a small lamp on his bedside table. the blankets and pillows look comfortable and plush, still in disarray from slumber.

the bed looks incredibly inviting; you stare at the covers, twisting the hem of your shirt between your fingers. haechan clicks the lamp off and settles between the sheets on the opposite side like he never left.

you give him an apprehensive look in the dim moonlight. he reaches up to grab your wrist, pausing to glance up at you as if to ask permission, and you let him pull you down onto the mattress. haechan tugs the blankets up and around you in one swift motion. a shudder spills down your spine as the cold sheet settles around your body.

in an attempt to get comfortable, you shuffle around a bit and roll over on your side. coming eye to eye with him, it dawns on you how close to him you actually are.

for the next few lofty minutes, everything feels rooted in time. from the window comes winds howling through the trees and pouring rain, and from your chest comes the relentless drumming of your heartbeat. haechan’s sleepy gaze is lazily fixed on you. the heat in your cheeks is so intense you hope he can't feel it on his own.

haechan is so nonchalant it feels like you’re in different worlds. your eyes flicker across his silhouette; he’s so incredibly handsome up close you nearly swoon. you swear there’s electricity buzzing across the short space between you.

“you’re really pretty when you’re nervous.”

your mind stutters. “i’m not nervous!” you blurt out.

“oh yeah? are you shivering because you’re cold, then?”

you hadn't realized you were still trembling. the beating of your heart in your throat makes it impossible to reply. haechan’s hand moves under the covers and gently snakes around you to rest on the small of your back, making your breath falter. before you even know it’s happened, he’s pulled you closer to him. your arm flies up to steady yourself before you crash into him from the force, and your hand lands on his chest. haechan’s warmth envelopes you, and it's borderline intoxicating.

“better?”

for a long moment, you stare at each other, breathing the same air, hearts beating in tandem.

“is this real?” the words had come out before you could stop them.

a smirk appears on haechan’s lips. “i hope so,” he breathes.

his fingers trace up your spine, leaving goosebumps on your skin in their wake. when his hand tenderly cups your cheek your breathing becomes heavy and labored, stomach fluttering. you subconsciously lean into his touch as his thumb strokes the apple of your cheek. you see his eyes break away from yours and land on your parted lips.

“can i kiss you?”

the most subtle of nods is all you can muster.

his mouth meets yours, simple and sweet, just briefly before he pulls away. even such a small moment felt like a dream.

you then slide your hand up his chest, you eyes never leaving his. you lean into him again. hot breath falling on his damp lips, your nose gingerly brushing against his. you lace your fingers in his thick locks, delicately scratching at his scalp.

his eyes leave yours as they flutter closed. he lets out the most docile whine- so small you almost missed it- and you cave.

you bring him in and attach your lips once again. this one is messier; your nerves dissolve as the only sense whirling through your entire being is the desire you feel. haechan lets out a low groan into your mouth, fingers slipping delicately across the skin of your hip, then sliding down to grip the back of your thigh and drag your leg up and over his waist. you moan into the heated kiss, suddenly feeling how wet you are as your legs separate from each other.

as one hand continues to tug his hair, the other drifts up to find purchase on his shoulder, knuckles turning white as you dig your fingers in and pull your chest into his. you rock your hips on his thigh situated between your legs. haechan lets out a trembling breath as you brush against the erection behind his fleece pajama pants.

haechan’s fingers inch up the inside of your thigh, stopping just slightly above the bottom of your shorts and skating ever so softly across the hem of your underwear. your body temperature raises with excitement.

he pulls his lips away from yours, breathing strained.

“is this okay?” he asks.

“yes,” you sigh.

pushing the fabric out of the way, haechan’s fingers brush against the sensitive area, and you let out a pathetic whimper at the slimmest about of contact. slow circles begin to trace around your clit, and you bite your lip as your head tilts back.

haechan’s hot mouth meets the spot on your neck just below your ear, leaving sloppy kisses across the sweaty skin. his fingers quicken against your pussy, dipping in and out of your soaked entrance.

“god,” haechan grumbles against your skin. “you have no idea how long i've wanted this to happen, pretty girl.” his sudden pet name for you makes you sink in his arms.

“i do,” you huff. “believe me, i do”

you trail a hand down to dip below the waistband of his pants. he chokes out a surprised groan when your silky fingers brush along the head of his hardened cock. you sink further to grip the base, stroking him up and down at an agonizing pace. he growls into your neck, sinking his teeth into your pulse.

as you work each other in sync, you grab his jaw and pull him up into a clumsy kiss. you swallow each others lewd sounds, striving to bring each other crashing into your release.

the tension building inside you threatens to spill over. “close- hah, close,” you mewl. he picks up the pace, his hand shaking, and not long after, you’re barreling headfirst into a blinding orgasm. you bury your face into haechan’s neck and cry out, your wet lips drooling on his shirt.

you keep up the momentum you've set, pumping haechan’s cock, and lift up your head to watch him cum as heavy breaths wrack your lungs. his chest rumbles with a low growl as he twitches in your hand and warm cum spills through your fingers. his brows draw together above his closed eyes, his jaw clenched so tight you fear his teeth might break.

vision fuzzy, lightheaded, you both take a few moments to regain your senses. you look up at him through your lashes, humid breaths spilling through the lazy grin on your lips.

“wow,” he huffs, admiring your post-cum glow, his eye lids heavy. “you should sleep over more often.”

“oh? why? so we can continue this where we left off?” you tease, your thumb brushing against his lower lip as he smiles. he leans down to meet you in another slow, sultry kiss, your dewey lips moving together in a perfectly languid flow.

“no, not just that,” he responds upon pulling away. “but that would be nice.” he winks.

and again. » ljn

genre | angst with fluffy ending, jeno x reader, college au

word count | 2.7k

summary | you hadn’t seen jeno since you had broken up, but a new year’s party brings you back together again, physically and emotionally

warnings | argument, small mention of past relationship issues and insecurity, light swearing, teeniest alcohol mention, flashback where jeno is a dick to reader, one female pet name (pretty girl) but i think its pretty gn aside from that

tonight marks roughly one year.

it’s been an entire twelve months since the big fight that had ultimately caused the downfall of one of the most fawned over relationships on campus. in one year, you’d surprisingly- impressively, even- managed to avoid talking to him or seeing him in person at all.

which really, was your biggest motive for desperately wanting to skip out on the party tonight. you knew jeno would be there, despite the numerous attempts by all of your friends of trying to convince you otherwise. but you knew that you couldn’t bail on everyone who hadn’t seen you since you arrived back from visiting home. not to mention, everyone was going to be there. it’s new years eve, and no one misses the new years party. so you just had to swallow your pride and attend.

the fact that it was the very same party that drove you apart the year prior, however, is another major reason you’d rather just stay home.

even as you sat in your best friend’s car, you weighed your options.

“do we really have to go?”

“are you really asking me that when we’re already half way there?” ningning asks, but its less of a question and more of a statement. “i can drop you off on the street if you really want me to,” she jabs.

you groan, your head falling against the headrest and your hands sliding down your face.

“who’s to say he’s even gonna be there anyway?” karina asks from the backseat.

“stop giving me hope, everyone is going to be there.” you sulk, crossing your arms and sinking down in the passenger seat.

“then what are the chances you'll even run into him? more people more distractions, right?” giselle consoles. she had a valid point, but even the slimmest chance made you want to rip your hair out.

ningning parallel parks her car on the side of the residential road, and the house party practically lights up the entire night sky. your girlfriends chatter excitedly as their heels clack on the sidewalk, all the while you’re hoping, praying that karina and giselle are right.

but as fate would have it, not even three footsteps in the door, you spot him. and unfortunately, your presence doesn’t go unnoticed either.

jeno is stood by the fireplace, deep in conversation, but sees you almost immediately upon your arrival, like the universe was on a timer, counting down to the exact second that your eyes would meet again, not a moment too soon or too late. his lips are parted like he stopped mid sentence, and you stand dumbfounded in the doorway, staring stupidly at him as people shove past you to enter.

renjun taps jeno’s shoulder from beside him, most likely trying to bring his attention back, but jeno’s eyes never leave yours, and you see him mouth your name in response to his confused friend, making your heart flip. renjun follows his eyes, adding to the unwanted attention that’s been placed on you. jeno then suddenly takes a few steps toward you, squeezing through the dense crowd, but before you think it through, you scurry off in the other direction.

“y/n, will you stop pouting about it already?”

you enter your apartment with jeno trailing behind you, your mood extremely sour as you open the door and let it slam against the wall.

“i’m not pouting, jeno. i’m upset, do you not get that?”

“you’re so dramatic,” jeno scoffs. he kicks off his shoes and drops his jacket over the back of your couch, so nonchalant about the whole situation that it makes you even angrier.

“she was all over you!” you cry out in desperation. you’ve repeated this what seemed like a hundred times already, but no matter what you said jeno wouldn’t even attempt to understand.

or maybe, he just didn't care.

“you couldn't even bother to just tell her to stop!”

jeno rolls his eyes. “i told you, y/n, i did tell her to stop. she wouldn’t listen.”

“then that's when you walk away, jeno. push her off of you, ignore her, anything! actions speak louder than words.” your arms flail wildly as you speak. “why do i even have to explain something like this to you? i’ve told you about what’s happened to me before and-“

he’s not even looking at you.

“are you listening?! do you even give a shit about how i feel right now?”

“not when you’re acting like this, y/n.” he drones, tapping away at his phone screen. “maybe if you’d just calm down and acted a little less crazy i’d be more inclined.”

all you feel is red. red from the sting of tears muddling your line of vision. red from the prick of your nails digging into your palms as they grip into fists at your sides. red for the old wound he’s just slashed open.

your voice is low and calm when you speak again.

“get the fuck out of here, jeno.”

only then does he decide to look at you.

“babe-” the smallest hint of guilt crosses his eyes, but he’s burned the bridge already. he reaches a hand out toward you, but you step back as if he’s venomous.

“get out!” you screech, not even caring that it rattles the walls. jeno flinches back. with a huff, he grabs his things and stomps out the door, slamming it behind him.

against all odds, everywhere you look, he’s there.

you see him when you’re seated by the tv watching a tipsy group of freshman struggle to get through a round of a dancing game; he’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch, laughing when they stumble.

and again, when you’re outside soaking in the fresh air; he’s got the attention of everyone lounging in the hot tub, telling them stories behind the constellations visible from the deck.

and again, when you’re reaching into the fridge for another drink; he’s pouring shots for swooning girls at the kitchen island.

always suspiciously close, yet just far enough away.

you initially thought it to be just an unfortunate coincidence, but the house was much too big and had too many other places to be. he’s attracting way too much attention to himself in such ways that it’s impossible for him not to be pining for yours in particular.

enough is enough. you decide that if jeno wants a show, you’ll give him a show.

the basement is the one place left in the house where you hadn’t seen him. its a cozy little space, with sports banners and posters of swimsuit clad models cluttering the walls, and along with the pair of couches there's a large pool table. you watch as your friend jaemin stands beside it, twirling his pool cue in his hands, laughing at something haechan had said. you swirl the liquid around in your red solo cup, an idea brewing in your mind.

right on time, you see jeno descend the staircase. you stand, walking over to jaemin.

“help me with something,” you whisper into his ear. he gives you a curious look, but when your eyes flick over to jeno, jaemin understands immediately and gives you a subtle nod.

it’s no secret to you- or to anyone, really- that jeno is watching you. you can feel his eyes on you, burning your skin as you grab the cue from jaemin’s hand and lean over the bright green table to shoot a striped ball into a pocket. jaemin gives you a charming smile, complimenting your technique. his bubblegum hair reminds you of the color jeno’s was before the breakup. it’s never bothered you before, but your heart involuntarily twists at the thought.

you hum, rounding the table to stand right beside your pink haired friend, scanning for the right ball to shoot in next. you lift your cue to point at the number ten ball, turning to jaemin, tilting your head.

“i don’t think i can get this one on my own, do you mind helping me out?” you ask smoothly, dragging your fingers up his arm. your friend picks up quickly, smirking down at your innocently pouty expression.

“sure thing, pretty,” jaemin hums with faux flirtation. he does a flawless job of dragging his hands along all of the parts your body that were jeno’s favorites, and you can almost feel his stare burn hotter. you not-so-subtly bite down a grin as jaemin leans over you, breathing heavily down your neck as he guides the cue through your arms, shooting the ball directly into a pocket.

after watching from the corner for a while, jeno begins to make his way towards you, telling you that he’s had enough of staying arms length away.

“you’re not subtle,” jeno says bluntly. its directed at you, but he’s glaring at jaemin.

you scowl, casually chalking up the tip of the cue you hold. “a bit narcissistic to think this is about you, don’t you think?” you hadn't expected those to be the first words you’d spoken to him in a year.

“do you mind?” jaemin interjects, his hand resting on your hip. “we’re in the middle of something.”

the tension in the room rises.

“well, whenever you’re finished,” jeno spits through his teeth. he shifts his eyes down toward you then, his gaze just a little bit softer. “i’d be really grateful if you’d meet me outside. i wanna talk to you, if you’ll let me.” and with that he’s gone.

after serious contemplation, you do decide meet him outside, despite a very sensible voice in your head telling you not to. as soon as you slide open the glass door and step out onto the grass, he’s leaning against the side of the house, closer to you than he’s been all night- all year. this close up view of him makes your heart flutter more than you’d ever be willing to admit in the moment. his hair is a shade of brown you’ve never seen on him, but his eyes glimmer just the same as they always have when he looks at you.

“long time no see, baby,” he greets you, the corner of his mouth tipped up in a small somber looking smile.

“that’s not my name.”

“it used to be,” he replies. you roll your eyes.

“what do you want, jeno?” it’s harder to say his name out loud than you thought it would be.

“i know you’ve been thinking about it, too,” he says softly, a very sharp contrast from the vibe he’s been presenting to other partygoers the entire night. the bass thumping upstairs is synched with your heartbeat. you still can’t bring yourself to look directly at him. “there’s no other reason you’d pull a stunt like that. jaemin is handsome, sure, but he’s not your type.” you fold your arms, slumping a bit. you hate that he’s right; that you haven’t changed enough during the time that’s passed and he can still read you like an open book.

“doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

jeno swallows, his head bowing forward to fix his eyes on his feet.

“i wanted to say i’m sorry.”

you turn to look at him then, your brows raised. “isn’t it a little late for that?”

“you blocked my number,” he says; you’d almost forgotten you had, in fact, blocked him on just about everything. “i couldn’t get a hold of you in person, either.

but i didn’t know what to say even if i could. there’s no excuse for what i said to you, and an ‘i’m sorry’ doesnt cut it.”

the look jeno is giving you is so genuine that its hard to breathe. all of a sudden your facade begins to crumble. “i can’t- i’m not doing this, not right now,” you tell him dolefully, turning around to slip back into the house, but he catches your elbow; his grip is soft, unthreatening, unmalicious.

“please, please just listen to me, i’m begging you.” when you turn around he’s on his knees, looking up at you with a pleading look on his face and your hand is clasped between both of his own. you despise how he looks so beautiful in the dim moonlight.

“jeno.” you blink your tears away. “don’t beg for me, please.”

he tugs lightly on your wrist, and reluctantly you sink down to kneel in front of him on the grass.

“i haven’t had a full night’s sleep in a year. every time i dream, its about you. believe me y/n i've tried so hard to let it go but the things i said to you still haunt me.”

his eyes flicker across yours, glistening with tears of his own, searching for something he can grab onto. the floodgates holding your emotions in begin to crack at a rate that’s too quick for you to keep up with. “you, you knew how i felt, about things like that,” your voice stutters, your lip quivers. “you knew, and, and you still-“ you choke on a sob.

“i know. y/n i’m so sorry,” he gingerly lifts a hand to your face, pausing for a moment, but when you don’t lean away or swat at him, his thumb brushes your cheek to wipe a tear away that’s just fallen from your lashes, tenderly tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “thinking about how i made you feel that night makes me so disgusted with myself. i never ever wanted to hurt you, but the fact is that i did and i can’t forgive myself for that.”

a moment of quiet passes between you. you wipe at your face with the sleeve of your sweater over and over but your tears don’t stop and the runaway drops fall onto your bare knees.

“do you remember when we won king and queen of prom court in high school?”

his sudden question puzzles you. you look up at him, and you see the real jeno. your jeno, soft and simple and so full of love.

“we went out for ice cream after the dance. it was the first night i told you i loved you.

and again, when we went to your sister's wedding together. you accidentally spilled red wine on my favorite white dress shirt. you were trying so hard not to cry, but i told you it didn’t matter, because i loved you.

and again, when we took your little brother and his friends out to that laser tag place for his birthday. we played one on one, and when you asked me why i let you win, i told you it was because i loved you.

and again, when you broke your wrist falling off the old tire swing in your front yard. you asked me why i came over every night to feed you dinner, even though you didn’t need the help, and i told you it’s because i loved you.”

“what are you doing?” you cut him off before he can continue any further, your voice small and trembling.

“i’m telling you that i still love you.”

he scoots forward on the ground, his body now so close to yours that you can feel his warmth. “i know i don’t deserve it, but all i’m asking for is another chance to love you right, the way you deserve to be loved.” his fingers cling tightly to your hand he still holds as he speaks.

“i don't know where you stand, so you’ve got all the power in your hands right now. stay here with me, and i’ll know we’re on the same page. turn around, and i’ll leave you alone, and you won’t see me again. it’s your choice, and i won’t judge you either way. your word is the final word.”

you feel heavy. his sweet words and the smell of his familiar cologne are intoxicating, but you do know you have the ability to get up and walk away right now if you want to.

but… do you want to?

the painful racing of your heart reminds you that no matter what, no matter how long you’ve been apart, you love jeno. you always have you and always will.

you raise a hesitant arm, placing your shaking hand lightly on his shoulder, and he draws in a breath. your fingers dance upward, contemplating, lips parted slightly with hazy breaths. cupping his jaw, you lean upward, brushing your lips against his in the lightest kiss, testing the waters.

you ignite. suddenly you’re full of such a serene feeling of home, a feeling you hadn’t realized had been absent from your life from the second you pushed him out of it. all the memories you’d tried so hard to keep at bay come rushing back with the image of a soft and smiley jeno; one who’s never had anything but love for you. jeno sees your eyes light up, and he smiles dreamily at you. in an instant, you’ve never been more sure of anything.

you press yourself up against him, pulling him down into your lips, and he wraps you up in his arms. even though the house is filled with the sounds and heat of other people, it’s only you and jeno in the entire world. you pull away when you can’t control your cries anymore, burying your face in his neck instead.

“i’m sorry,” your voice wobbles as you let out the words, but jeno sweetly hushes you, rocking you back and forth in time with the rhythm of the muffled music.

“no apologies from you, pretty girl. none of this is your fault.” you feel the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders. he presses a gentle kiss to your temple, resting his chin on top of your head.

“i love you,” he reassures you. and he does again, and again, and again.

paranoia » njm + ljn

‼️currently being edited and rewritten!! i didn’t really like the pacing so i’m revamping it, check back soon‼️

genre | smut (mdni!!) jaemin x afab!reader x jeno

word count | 3k

summary | an innocent game of paranoia with your friends while on a ski trip makes you realize that maybe you never knew you wanted to fuck your boyfriend jaemin’s best friend. and maybe, your boyfriend is okay with that.

warnings | smut, swearing, alcohol consumption, threesome, unprotected sex but he pulls out, established relationship with jaemin, jeno is shy and a little bit of a perv ig?, dom!jaem sub!jen basically, cuckolding, lots of pet names from jaemin he’s a sweetie pie

a.n | this fic was purely self indulgent lmaoo, when i would go on choir ski trips in high school we would always play paranoia in the hot tub at the resort (no nomin threesome though unfortunately ugh unfair) and my bestie and i had major brainrot one day a few years later and uhh this was born!

also if anyone doesn’t know what paranoia is, basically you get a group of friends and sit in a circle, one person whispers a “who in the group is most likely to” type question to the person next to them so the rest of the group doesn’t hear it, and then they answer it out loud. if the person who asked wins rock paper scissors the other person has to reveal what the question was, but if they lose then the question remains a secret (i added the caveat that if you lose and you really don’t want to tell you can take a shot as a safety)

“ooohhh,” haechan muses, his hand scratching at his chin. he glances around the circle of his friends surrounding him in the hot tub, eyeing everyone very intently and contemplating the question ningning had just whispered in his ear.

“probably renjun,” he answers after some thought.

“renjun??” ningning gapes. “my money was totally on mark.”

“shut up! you’ll give it away!” haechan hisses.

the pair turn to each other and present their fists. after three slaps to their hands, ninging lets out a ‘ha!’ when her two fingers snip at haechan’s open palm.

without missing a beat, haechan reaches into the middle of the circle, snatching one of the pre-prepared shots sitting in a slot in a little yellow floaty.

“you loser!” ningning yells. “was it not you who said you’re a pussy if you chicken out when i took a shot?”

“cry about it.” haechan throws the shot back down his throat and tosses the little plastic cup behind him to clatter on the wet tile. suddenly ningning grabs haechan by his shoulders and in one swift motion his head is completely underwater. his arm holds his fruity blue cocktail high in the air so as to not spill it, but it still sloshes around as he flails, frantic bubbles rising up to the surface. jisung reaches forward and grabs the floaty to pull it away from the chaos and keep the shots from dancing across the water.

haechan resurfaces when ningning lets him go, coughing dramatically and wiping the water away from his eyes. “my drink! my drink!” he sputters.

you giggle at the antics of your drunken friends, but its difficult to give them your full attention when jaemin is pressed against your left side. his right hand glides across your thigh under the hot water, dangerously close to the bottom of your white bikini.

he’s paying no mind to the game. his nose is pressed against your neck, his breath feeling cold against your skin in comparison to the hot air around you. you swat at his hand when his thumb brushes against the fabric between your thighs; jaemin has never been one to shy away from public affection, especially when he’s tipsy, so you’re the one tasked with keeping him under control. you find that it's hard to care that much though, considering that even before the game began you were already three shots deep. jaemin just chuckles, lifting his free hand to brush your wet hair from your shoulder and places a hot kiss behind your ear.

you turn to look over at him, your head tilting back and to the side so your lips brush lightly against his own as you move. it's snowing, the night sky completely clouded over, but the heat from the hot tub makes the puffy white flakes dissolve in the air before they can touch the water, and they fizzle away as you watch them land in his hair. jaemin catches his bottom lip between his teeth, a dazed and loving smile matching the way his glossy eyes look at you in the winter air. you lean forward just a bit to meet him in a kiss. he sighs happily, leaning in closer to deepen it.

the game has made its way down the circle and someone grabs your attention by telling jaemin that it’s his turn. he chases your lips when you pull away, your face flushed upon remembering you aren’t alone, all the while he seems unphased.

without looking away from you he hums in thought, watching as the condensation clinging to your skin rolls down your chest. he brings a hand up to cup your ear and whispers his question.

“who’s most likely to fuck you better than me?”

even in the steamy air, the blush that rises to your face is unmistakable. your eyes widen, making a devilish smile appear on his lips.

“ohhh look at her face!” karina says coyly. “must have been a spicy question!”

you’re too stunned to speak. you’d never been conscious of it, but apparently you knew the answer to this question before even being presented with it.

your eyes then flicker over to scan your group of friends; everyone’s eyes are on you and all of a sudden you feel like you’re a second from overheating.

“you’ve gotta answer, baby. its part of the game,” jaemin teases, snapping you out of your thoughts. the smirk playing his features is mischievous; his hand slyly finds its way between your legs again, and when his fingers slip under the band of your swimsuit and press roughly against you, you blurt out your answer without being able to stop yourself.

“jeno!”

its clear everyone was under the impression that the question presented to you was intimate, and a series of surprised and boisterous hoots and hollers erupt all around you. jeno laughs nervously from a few spots down the circle, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. you swallow hard. it's too late now to wonder if you should have just kept your mouth shut.

jaemin pulls your attention back to him. your eyes are apprehensive when they meet his; he immediately takes notice of your change in demeanor, and he gives you a sweet, reassuring smile. when you smack your hands down in sync, he waits just a second to see your fist still clenched, and he slips two fingers out of his to let you win.

“that’s cheating!!” haechan whines from across the hot tub. “you saw her play!”

jaemin just presses a soft kiss to your wet cheek and drapes his arm around your shoulders. “cry about it.”

the next morning, you wake up to the sounds and smells of breakfast being made. through the dehydration and dull headache of your small hangover, what you’d said the night prior runs rampant in your head.

you feel a strange sense of guilt gnawing at you. jaemin acted no differently than normal following your confession, but you can't shake the feeling that you’d upset him. it was his best friend's name you’d said after all, so you aren’t quite sure why he hasn't at least brought it up again.

the dream you’d just awoken from involving said best friend didn't help settle your nerves either.

you shuffle out of the sheets and walk into the kitchen of the small condo you and your boyfriend are sharing for the weekend. you take a seat on one of the barstools surrounding the kitchen island, tapping your fingers on the marble countertop as you watch jaemin from behind him. he hums to himself, dropping ingredients into a sizzling pan.

“jaem?” you start. he spins around, and he grins at you.

“good morning, my love,” he greets you, crossing the space and leaning down to kiss you.

“are you mad at me?”

in retrospect, it's a stupid question; he hadn’t given any indication that he was upset with you at all, but your worried conscience outweighs your common sense.

jaemin’s smile falls, a look of confusion replacing it. “of course not, baby, why would i be?”

“because of last night,” you mutter, your shoulders slumped.

jaemin takes a seat on a stool across from you and pauses to think. “i don’t remember you doing anything last night to make me upset, babydoll.”

“i mean, like, what i said in the hot tub.”

he blinks at you. after a second, his face lights up in realization. “what, about jeno?”

you nod, lowering your head in shame. jaemin chuckles, placing a warm hand under your jaw to bring your eyes back up. his thumb brushes against your burning skin.

“baby, why would i be mad about that? i asked you the question in the first place.”

“because he's your best friend.”

“so? as his best friend, i know better than most that he’s attractive,” he jokes. you’re honestly confused as to why he's so casual about it.

“i um- i had a dream about him last night.”

when he lifts a brow and tilts his head, you reach up to tightly squeeze his hand that still lays on your face and scramble to clarify. “but it didn't mean anything jaem, i promise! please don’t be mad, please, i really would never do anything like that-“

“baby, shh, its okay,” he cups your face in his hands, squishing your cheeks together. heavy, anxious breathing fills your chest. “i love you and i trust you, i promise i’m not upset with you, sweetheart.”

a sigh falls, your worries dissolving into the warm air. jaemin presses a kiss to your forehead. an idea seems to pop into his head just then, and he smirks.

“besides, there's no one i'd rather share my girl with than my best friend anyway.”

heat rushes up your neck again. “share?”

“well yeah, if you’re comfortable with that. i’d love to help my pretty baby bring that dream to life for a night.”

there's snow piling on the sill just outside the bedroom window, but jeno’s forehead still glimmers with a light sheen of sweat in the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

as you and the girls were on the slopes earlier in the day, jaemin pulled jeno aside to talk to him once he knew you were on board with his idea. jaemin had always known jeno thought you were pretty, it was in the way he looked at you and spoke a little softer to you than most. but it didn't bother jaemin; after all, who could really blame him? jaemin had fallen in love with you for a reason.

needless to say though, jaemin’s proposal left jeno completely shocked. he really tried to hide his crush on you so as to not upset anyone; losing his best friend over it wasn't worth the risk and he saw how in love you were, he would feel like a monster if he did anything to ruin that. so learning about your little crush on him made his heart flutter in his chest.

he would have to be an insane man to decline this offer.

so now, you kneel in front of him on yours and jaemin’s bed, your bare knees digging into the plush of the mattress. you’d just showered after your long day of skiing, and the lingering scent of vanilla has jeno reeling already.

“are you nervous?” you ask him. your shorts are riding up, disappearing behind the hem of your thin white tshirt. your hair is still damp, and the wetness seeps through the fabric, making the top of your chest slightly more visible.

jeno gives a hesitant nod, a quiet laugh slipping through his shy smile.

“me too,” you admit, matching his timid demeanor.

jaemin catches your eye from his spot by the window, the ice clinking in his frosted glass as he stands between the sheer curtains.

“she's a good girl, jen. she’ll do what you tell her, right baby?”

you turn back towards jeno and give him an innocent nod. jeno feels embarrassed by how hard he already is just from your sweet doe eyes and the way you puff your lips up in a little pout. you lean forward on your knees, your fingers gripping the sheets. your elbows push your chest forward and jeno has to remind himself he doesn't have to force his gaze away this time.

“tell me what you want, nono,” you coo. jeno swallows hard.

“show me what happened in your dream.”

you obey immediately, crawling forward and situating yourself on his lap. your fingers trace ever so delicately up his abdomen and chest; you can feel how his muscles are tense under his shirt, but when you dip down to press warm, feathery kisses to the side of his neck, the strain fades away almost instantly. you grip his shoulders and rock yourself against him. his fingers dig into your hips and he shudders at the soft, slow friction.

jaemin watches you intently, leaning his weight on his arm against the perch of the window, and he lifts his glass to take a sip. this brand new view of you absolutely captivates him; you look so.. so pretty it makes him twitch in his sweat pants.

with your lips still attached to jeno’s neck your hands find their way down his waistband. you tug at the elastic of his basketball shorts, reaching in to palm him over his boxers, eliciting a low groan that vibrates against your lips. his head falls back and his eyes flutter closed.

pulling away you scoot back enough to pull the fabric away from his waist, watching as his cock springs up and out of his shorts. you keep your gaze locked with his as you grab him by the base and drag your hand slowly up the shaft. jeno whimpers as you pump your fist up and down, squeezing every time your fingers reach the tip.

you lift yourself up and stand on your knees that sit on either side of jeno’s lap, your chest almost pressing against his face as you use his shoulders for balance. he has to suppress the moan that rises in this throat when you shove your shorts and panties off your legs and sink down onto him without warning.

your wet hair sways in front of your face as you bounce slowly up and down on him, adjusting to his length. you’re so warm and soft and you grip around him so well that jeno feels delirious; he might not be able to last long.

your lips suddenly mesh with his and he feels like he's on cloud nine. jeno’s tongue flicks into your mouth and he feels you dig your nails into the back of his neck, tugging at his hair. you whimper into his mouth as jeno kisses you like his life depends on it.

suddenly your hair is tangled in jaemin’s grip and your head is yanked back, your lips pulling away from jeno’s with a wet smack and a loud cry is ripped from your throat. your head falls back onto jaemin’s shoulder and an earth shattering whine echoes through the room. jeno feels embarrassed by the heavy groan he can't help but let out, until jaemin looks at him with a knowing smirk.

“you like that, jen? she’s very vocal.” jaemin’s free hand reaches up to squeeze the base of your neck. “isn’t that right, baby girl? you make such pretty noises when you feel good, yeah?” you nod, reaching a shaky arm up and behind you to scratch at jaemin’s shoulder. you let out a trembling whimper.

“you wanna show jen how good i can make you feel, huh?”

your swollen lips press together; a strangled ‘mhm’ is all you can manage.

jaemin then pulls your hips towards him, a sticky wet sound making you blush as jeno slips out of your folds. the empty feeling doesn't linger for long, however. jaemin replaces him immediately, slamming his hips up into you and hitting the spot that makes you crumble every time.

your face looks so beautiful to jeno in this moment, scrunched up in pleasure. jaemin’s hand still grips your hair to tilt your head back as he rams into you, his face buried in your neck leaving messy purple bruises across your skin.

jeno thinks he might just cum untouched from the sight.

one of your hands reaches out to grip jeno’s cock again in an attempt to aid him in just that, but jaemin is fucking into you so mercilessly that you can’t manage to keep up a steady pace. so jeno grips your hand in his, guiding your arm up and down. tears begin to spill through your lashes and you see stars behind your closed eyes. jeno kisses up your jaw on the side opposite jaemin, making his way up to lock his lips with your own once again.

“ah, a-ahh hah.” you begin to babble and whine and your kiss becomes sloppy. jeno knows you’re close. he begins to pump faster to reach the height you’re at, and as you clench around jaemin’s cock and scream out through your orgasm your head falls forward to rest on jeno’s shoulder. with a humiliatingly loud moan jeno cums with you, sticky thick ropes shooting out and painting your thighs a milky white.

jaemin rides you through your orgasm, and when you start to whine from overstimulation, he pulls out and let’s you fall back on his chest. your vision is blurry, your breath is labored. in jaemin’s warm arms you decide that staying completely conscious would be entirely too difficult, so you allow yourself to drift off.

later that night, you lay in bed between both jaemin and jeno, your exhausted body having been cleaned up and taken care of by the pair of boys. jeno is out cold behind you, snuggled up into your back and snoring softly.

jaemin is settled in front of you. your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him, pressed up against his bare chest. his fingers trace along your side as he hums on your lips, moving slowly and tenderly along with you.

he grabs your chin softly in his fingers, pulling away from the kiss gently. you smile dreamily as his thumb brushes your bottom lip.

“did your dream come true, baby?” he asks, his voice breathy.

you sigh. “it was even better.”

“better?”

“of course, you were there.”

its rare that you fluster jaemin, but his eyes light up at your words and you swear you see him blush in the dim light. he grins at you, leaning down to connect your lips again.

“wait,” you say suddenly, stopping him. though its only been a short while your memory is foggy, and you realize you don't remember jaemin reaching his own high. “jaem, did you not-“

somehow, jaemin reads your mind. “don't worry about that, baby girl. i wanted you to feel good tonight.”

“noo jaem that’s not fair to you,” you whine, beginning to slide your hand down, but he catches it.

“we’ll wake jeno up if you do that, baby,” he whispers. you glace over your shoulder, noticing how jeno is basically spooning you, his face buried in the fabric of your sweatshirt between your shoulders and his arms circling your waist.

you smirk, turning back around.

“why not let him help, then?”

w.c 0.9k | fluff

[ 7:22 pm ] the plate of food in front of you is nearly empty, but raising your head just a bit, you see that the plate directly across from yours is almost exactly how it was when the waitress set it down. you shovel another spoonful into your mouth, watching as your boyfriend’s brow creases as he squints at the almost comically large, dusty and permanently wrinkled roadmap he holds open in front of him.

“i think we’re lost,” renjun sighs, resting his head heavily in his hand, slightly pouty as his eyes continue to scan the maze of lines on the map. you swallow your bite of food, tilting your head doubtfully at him.

“the only way to get lost on a road trip is if we end up at the bottom of the ocean,” you joke, lifting up your mug and peeking in, swirling around the last drops of your hot cocoa. you sigh.

looking up at renjun’s mug, still topped with a mountain of whipped cream, untouched, you grin innocently at him. “are you gonna drink that?” you ask him sweetly, pointing to his hot beverage, batting your lashes. he just shakes his head sadly, sliding the drink across the table.

your grin falls at his distraught expression. you reach over to grab his hand, squeezing it reassuringly in your own. “cheer up babe, we’re not even that far from home yet, we can’t be that lost.” you sip your newly acquired beverage as renjun sighs.

“exactly, we’ve only been on the road for a few hours and i already can’t recognize where we are,” renjun explains, smoothing his free hand over the crinkled paper to flatten it a bit, continuing to follow the small jagged lines with his finger.

“are you sure we can trust that?” you ask, eyeing the ancient looking paper spread out on the table. “it looks really old, jun.”

“what do you mean? how much could have really changed since-” renjun searches around for any indication of a date, sinking down in the booth a bit as he reads out, dejectedly, “1994.”

you snort into your hot cocoa, wiping up the bit of whipped cream that tickled your nose. renjun buries his face in his hands, groaning.

“this map is 30 years old? where did you even get this thing?” you gawk, failing absolutely miserably to hold in your laughter.

“this is the worst luck,” he mumbles into his palms, muffled. you reach up to pry his hands from his face, smiling warmly at him.

“renjun honey, i love you, i really do.” his cheeks heat up ever so slightly at that. “and i love that you insisted on a technology free trip, to bond more and whatnot, but all i’m saying is that maybe if we had a phone, you wouldn’t be so worried.” you suggest, rubbing his hands with your thumbs as you hold them.

“hey, if you wanted an inauthentic trip full of half assed conversation, you could have hit up haechan,” renjun teases.

“why would i hit up hyuck when you’re so much cuter?” you beam, and you notice how the corner of his mouth tips up into a shy smile of his own.

“plus, hyuck would’ve never given me his hot chocolate,” you add. renjun rolls his eyes.

you lean across the table and press a kiss to his cheek. he turns away with a whine at your sudden affection, but his face scrunches up in a grin that makes your heart flutter. the sun has just began to set, casting rays of warmth in through the window next to your booth. it makes renjun’s face glow as he bathes in the sky’s pink light, and you think he’s never looked prettier.

“i know you’re upset, but i promise i’m still having a good time. i don’t care if we’ve been cursed, i don’t care if the whole universe is out to get us.” your head and arms motion upwards, to the ‘whole universe.’ renjun grins dreamily at you, glowing in the sunset.

“as long as i’m with you, anywhere we are, i’m happy.” you reassure him.

“even if we ended up at the bottom of the ocean?”

“i’d hold my breath forever to be with you.” this time it’s renjun who leans forward to kiss you.

“why don’t we find the nearest motel and settle down with some snacks and watch shitty cable movies, and figure out what to do in the morning? i’m sure the map can point us there if nowhere else.” you squeeze his hands, earning a nod and a content smile as he looks down, scanning the map for a possible place to settle down for the night.

as the waitress returns to clean up the plates and mugs, her apron bumps a glass of water perched on the table, sending a icy stream across the old paper.

“oh, god! i’m so sorry, let me help with that,” she bumbles, embarrassed, pulling a wad of napkins from her pockets. she presses them down to mop up the spill, an endless string of apologies falling from her lips. “today has just not been my day, it’s like the universe is out to get me or something.”

as renjun assures her that it’s fine, accidents happen, you glance down at the map, the aged ink blotted out into an unintelligible mess of dull colors. your eyes meet renjun’s again above the disaster, and a second passes before you both chuckle, accepting your fate of bad luck.

“maybe we’d better just call the boys instead.”

fall from grace » ljn

genre | angel!jeno x human!reader; fluff, slight angst at the very end

word count | 2.3k

summary | your guardian angel has always blurred the line he’s never supposed to cross, and one night he unintentionally takes that leap into territory he’s not meant to be in

a.n | this will most likely have a part two! (pt2 will be much more angsty, and possibly smutty i haven’t decided yet) also if you see something extremely similar to this on ao3 no you don’t (i wrote this as a nomin fic a few years ago and posted it there but dreamscape angel propaganda made me want to revamp it and post it again)

he hadn’t expected to end up here. or, at least that’s what he tried to convince himself. he really wasn’t supposed to be here. none of this was ever supposed to happen.

but, how could he not fall in love with you?

the way that you snort when you laugh a little too hard at something you know isn’t really that funny. the pout that cutely displays on your lips when you give something your full focus. the little noises you make in your sleep when you’re dreaming. the way that you almost always trip on the crack in the sidewalk right outside your apartment building, despite living there long enough to be mindful of it.

jeno thinks about it more and more day by day; not that he even pays mind to the passage of time anymore. there was no way out, he was doomed from the start.

but, instead of the lighthearted feeling that would normally come hand in hand with love, jeno feels a weight. in any other circumstance he’d likely be considered a stalker by the way he knows every little thing about you, but that’s his obligation. jeno’s sole task is to watch over you, to keep you safe, to make you his number one priority above all else.

you aren’t supposed to know. you’re supposed to be blissfully unaware of jeno’s existence and his presence in your life, as well as any others like him.

and jeno was never supposed to fall in love.

lately- and he couldn’t tell if it was on purpose- jeno had become admittedly sloppy with keeping a safe enough space between you and him. he knows it’s no excuse, and he knows the consequences of the risk he’s taking, but the pull is just too strong. his one responsibility is to protect you, but what was the point of that if he couldn’t make you comfortable and happy? if he couldn’t love you in the way only he knows you deserve to be? he’s just fulfilling his duties, right?

how unfair, he thinks. how unfair it is that he’s forced to be so close to you, yet just far enough away that you’ll never even know.

jeno stands on your balcony, three floors up, three hours past midnight.

there’s only a wall separating you from him, and though there is the perk that you can't exactly feel his presence like you might with another human, there stands the possibility of you finding him all the same. he’s more than aware of how dangerous this is for him, to have this little of a distance between you; a relationship between a human and their guardian is never allowed to be physical or emotional in any way. he asks himself how far he is from crossing that line, how close he is from falling off of that tight rope. realistically he already has, but he finds it difficult to care.

ironically, jeno wonders if he’s been cursed or blessed. maybe both, he thinks- blessed with the fact he’s always with the human he loves oh so deeply; cursed with the fact that though he knows just how to make you smile, that smile will never really be for him.

he’s willing, though- more than willing to take that chance, despite the better part of himself advising against it (or that had been the better part of him, long long ago). if he just gets to see your surprised, sleepy little smile early the next morning when you step out to check on your favorite flowers and notice they’ve bloomed way ahead of schedule, then to jeno, its worth it.

as jeno tends to the soft peach colored petals, you sit inside, your legs tucked under you on the kitchen counter, sipping peach flavored tea and watching old cartoons on your computer. you couldn’t sleep, and tossing and turning in bed was finally out of the question after a few too many hours of dreamless silence.

your bare feet make a soft thud on the kitchen tiles when you uncross your legs and leap from the counter, making your way to grab more honey for your tea. the sound makes jeno glance up from the petals sitting between his fingers. this signals to him that you’re now on the move and that he should go, but again, the voice in his head is muted when it comes to you.

jeno takes another bud in his hands and watches as it spreads open right before his eyes at his touch. he rearranges the flowers and stems and pats down the soil as if to make it look a bit more lively, and with this, he decides he should depart before you have the chance to notice he’s here. he turns, preparing to hop the banister, but he bumps the patio table, sending an unused pot of dry dirt falling to the ground. it shatters into large shards of clay that scatter across the wood, and jeno stills.

you almost drop the glass jar at the unexpected calamity, adrenaline shooting through your body like a shockwave. a heavy spoonful of honey is frozen in the air as you hold it above your mug; it drizzles down the side of the ceramic and makes a sticky puddle on your counter. a few moments of painfully eerie silence pass and you try your best to catch your breath.

jeno stoops down to clean the mess he’s made, making certain to be as silent and quick as possible before you arrive to investigate. after your mind has time to form a theory that doesn’t involve something you’d seen in a horror film, you come to the hopeful conclusion that it must have been the wind knocking around your gardening supplies. for your peace of mind, you round the counter to pull open the curtain draped glass doors.

what you see makes you think that maybe you had fallen asleep earlier after all.

jeno looks up, stunned, frigid, crouched down with his hands full of rocks and clay and dirt. he can only imagine how he appears to you in this moment; he must look like he’s just been caught committing a crime- and it likely would be in any other set of means.

millions of worries should be swarming his head, but the only thing on his mind right now is you. your tangled hair, your fluffy pajama pants, your eyes twinkling in the moonlight and looking at him with wonder- not toward him or past him, but directly at him. it was something he’d never had the pleasure of witnessing.

your urge to cry out is suppressed by the peculiar calm feeling that settles over you the moment your eyes lock with jeno’s. even in the shadows the strange boy’s eyes seem to shine, and any thought of ill intent is sent away as quickly as it came. your brain has no time to question the unusual level headedness you feel before you start to connect the dots.

weirdly, you recognize him, but your mind blanks when you try recalling from where. though, you really figured that you’d remember something like this if you’d seen it before. it takes jeno standing, letting the soft starlight paint his nervous face and his shimmering wings for you to be able to connect him to any sort of a tangible memory.

you’d never actually known his name, or from where he came, but you did know of him.

the boy you’d spotted leaving the cafe after the barista had told you that your coffee was already paid for on the morning you were running late for your psychology lecture. the boy you’d seen scanning shelves in the campus library when you saw your favorite novel sat next to your course work upon returning from the counter to ask if they had it in yet. the boy you’d seen walking down the pavement when you’d whipped your tipsy head around after being yanked back by your hoodie just before you stepped into the street, a blaring car horn and a rush of wind whisking your hair up as all you could do was stare at his figure as he strolled away from you.

other instances that you’d had no concrete explanations for began to surface in your mind the longer you studied him. the closed window and extra blanket the night you’d accidentally fallen asleep before a severe thunderstorm. the carton of fresh milk in your fridge you could’ve sworn you’d forgotten to pick up from the market. your favorite white sweater miraculously being completely unharmed after a pink sock snuck its way into the wash.

you knew all of these occurrences and the same boy being present could be purely coincidental, but something about that was just too hard to believe. you always meant to approach him when you saw him in your day to day life, but the courage to make the move and close the distance between you never arose.

‘what an angel,’ you’d always said to yourself when you’d see him. you never would’ve guessed you were right.

when jeno finally snaps out of his trance, remembering the predicament he’s gotten himself into, he turns to really leave before he lands himself in any more trouble. he spreads his huge white wings, the ones that had always been hidden when you were near, and flaps them once to lift himself into the air. a gust of chilled wind flutters your pajamas and pulls the breath from your lungs as you gawk at him.

you try to speak, to tell him not to go, but your voice won’t come out. before jeno can get too far, and before you can think of something less hazardous, you run forward and hoist yourself up on the railing to grab jeno’s ankle in an attempt to stop him from fleeing. at that same moment jeno flaps his wings again, not thinking that the sudden weight on his leg could be you, and as a result you’re pulled from the rail and out into the open, three stories above solid ground.

a strangled yelp jumps from your throat as you dangle in peril. jeno’s head snaps down, and his eyes widen as they meet your figure, clinging to him and flailing wildly. your grip rapidly begins to slip from jeno’s body. your mind races around the realization that this could very well be the end; in an instant you feel the cold night wind rushing up around you, whisking your hair towards the sky, blurring the buildings and skyline together and your breath is caught in your lungs as all you can do is fall.

just as soon as it happened, you collapse into jeno’s open arms with an ‘oomph’ when he catches you before you can meet any harm. you immediately wrap your entire body around him and squeeze your eyes shut, letting out a trembling and fearful cry into his neck. hot tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and the height makes you lightheaded. you’re shivering as jeno lifts you both up to the balcony once again.

it’s bittersweet for jeno to see you this close. you’re so stunningly beautiful, more so than jeno could have ever imagined. your eyes finally open to meet jeno’s when you feel yourself safely sitting on your balcony, curled up under jeno’s kneeling figure. they glisten with tears and your soft face appears to glow in the moonlight. jeno’s heart grows wings of its own to soar through his chest; he may be the angel, but you are angelic.

a very nervous laugh bubbles out of you, your face blooming with a deep red at the sudden realization of your very close proximity to one another, and the embarrassment of the stunt you’d just pulled. one of your arms still drapes around the back of jeno’s neck, the other hand pressed to his chest, revealing jeno’s rapid heartbeat that matches that of yours. jeno’s arms are still wrapped around your waist. he never wants to let go.

“i-mh,” you stutter a bit, and gulp. “i’m sorry,” a sheepish smile pulls at your lips. your voice is much breathier than you’d wanted it to come out.

jeno’s features are sharp, but his expression is soft. tufts of his silvery white hair flit around in the crisp breeze and he looks at you, admires you, his gentle eyes flickering across your face like he’s committing you to memory. his fingers comb gingerly through your windswept hair, pushing it away from your flushed neck and tucking it behind your ear.

his eyes suddenly shift down when your hand meets his jaw, the tips of your fingers ghosting over his cheek. his skin tingles under your timid touch.

you’ve never seen anything like him.

“you’re.. so pretty.”

“thank you,” jeno breathes out through a dazed smile. as you relax a bit, jeno feels your fingers brush delicately against the indents you had made on his shoulders; your grip is softer now, but no less fervent.

“i’m jeno,” he tells you. your eyes meet his again. his heart skips a beat when you cup his face fully, your thumb smoothing over the expanse of his cheek; its warm under your touch.

“thank you, jeno.”

a short beat of time passes, and in a sudden surge of bravery, you lean forward to connect your lips in a kiss. jeno’s heart stops then, his feathers standing and his eyes wide, utterly overwhelmed with the cordial feeling of the one he loves so suddenly embracing him.

jeno decides to throw all caution to the wind. he wastes no time in sliding his hands up your neck to cradle both sides of your jaw, turning his head to let the kiss deepen. his eyes flutter closed and his wings relax, and the sigh he lets out sends hot air onto the peaks of your blushing face, making you melt into his hold. you can’t tell if the warmth that spreads through your body as your lips move in perfect sync is from jeno’s celestial form, but you’ve never felt such a rush from just a single kiss.

but it’s not otherworldly, because jeno feels it, too.

all of a sudden jeno feels the crushing sense of his time running short. he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss; you chase his lips as he leans back.

“i’m sorry, i’m not supposed to be here.”

your fingers grip his shoulders again. a wave of sadness crashes over him when he sees the somber look in your eyes.

“don’t go,” you whimper. jeno’s heart throbs. he would consider it a moment of weakness, only that's all he ever felt when it came to you. he kisses you once more, quick this time, and he feels himself ready to break.

“i’ll come back. i promise.”

with that, he’s gone.

you didn’t end up sleeping that night.

the tea in the mug that hangs loosely in your grip has gone cold by now. you sit in the same spot on your balcony, staring longingly up at the star speckled night sky.

w.c 0.8k | fluff fluff | reader is described as smaller than hyuck

[ 11:57pm ] the dull slam of the front door makes you stir a bit, but not enough to wake you fully. you groan a bit, shuffling in the chair you’re sat in, and drift off once again.

haechan lets out a heavy sigh as he shuffles into his apartment. shoes kicked off haphazardly by the door, haechan slugs through the living room and flops down on the couch with a grunt, huffing out a yawn from the long, exhausting day he’s had. he takes his glasses off and tosses them to the side, running his hands through his hair and down his face to wipe the impending sleep away.

as he reaches for the half full plastic water bottle on the coffee table, his eyes find your bag leaned up against one of the wooden legs, your shoes sat neatly next to it. his brow furrows; maybe he missed a text, but he hadn’t expected you to be here. even so, he immediately stands to search for you.

haechan walks past his gaming room as he makes his way down the hall, assuming you’re asleep in his bed, but he does a double take when he notices the faint purple glow bleeding through the small crack in the doorway. he peeks in, and immediately he melts, a goofy smile spreading across his face.

there you are, fallen asleep at his computer. your face is nestled in the crook of your elbow, your cheek pushed up cutely by the dark gray fabric of haechan’s sweatshirt you’re wearing. this shirt is big on him already so its very big on you, long enough that the sleeves completely swallow your hands and the bottom hem hides the shorts you’re wearing. a pair of fluffy pink socks adorn your dangling feet as his gaming chair is raised so high your toes don’t reach the ground.

haechan walks up, gently so the floor doesn't creak, and crouches down next to you. the monitor softly lights your sleeping face with the pause screen of the game you’d been playing, and there’s a jumbled mess of letters in the chat bar from your arm resting on the keyboard. he hears your docile breathing and the faintest sound of the calm music through the headphones askew on your head.

haechan decides in the moment that this is, quite honestly, the most adorable thing he has ever seen.

his hand comes up, pushing the mic up and back to brush his thumb along your cheek, and he can’t help but lean in and press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. you hum as you wake, rubbing your face on your sleeve, and you push yourself up from the surface of the desk. you look up at him, eyelids heavy, almost closed. the combination of the lopsided headphones sitting on your head and the groggy smile that pulls at your lips at the sight of him makes haechan feel lovesick.

“mmh, hi hyuckie,” you sigh happily upon seeing your boyfriend. you grab his face with your sweater paws, squishing his cheeks, and place a warm kiss on his pouty lips.

haechan’s heart nearly explodes. “hi baby bear,” he responds, a natural warmth in his voice. he slides the headphones off and sets them aside, using his free hand to brush messy strands of hair out of your face. you lean into his soft touch, your sleepy grin pressing against his palm, and he swears he hears you purr.

he whines. your eyes peek open to look at him. “you have got to stop being so cute. i’m falling behind in this race,” he complains. your yawn is cut short by the giggle that bubbles up at his words.

“what are you doing here, cutie?” he asks, watching you rub your eyes. “i told you i would have a late night.”

“just wanted to see you.” the words come out strained due to you arching back in a stretch, reaching your arms up and wiggling your fingers in the air. they then fall onto haechan’s shoulders, your fingers tangling together at the back of his neck. his hands find your hips without even having to search.

a heavy breath falls from your lips, pulling him closer to press your chest against his. “is that okay?” you muse playfully.

haechan scoffs. “don't ever ask me that,” he scolds you, but his words hold no real weight. you know you’re always welcome here.

haechan’s hands slide down under your thighs to pull you up into his arms. you squeak at the sudden motion, wrapping yourself around him and snuggling your face into his neck.

“let's get you to bed, pretty baby,” he says as he carries you out into the hallway. you hum in agreement, pressing a trio of gentle kisses down his jaw before resting your heavy head on his shoulder, the bounce in his step and the warmth of his body lulling you back to sleep.

— [ 1:08 am ]

w.c 2.4k

jisung x reader , tooth rotting fluff

alcohol consumption, kissing, lots of blushing and giggles

in the beginning of your relationship with jisung, it was admittedly a bit difficult to show affection towards each other in the presence of others, especially your shared friends.

in fact, it was those friends who had to force the both of you to make any moves in the first place, which was no easy task in itself. you and jisung were both extremely shy individuals, and despite your huge crushes on one another, you had convinced yourselves that it was ultimately better to admire from afar in order to stay safe from the humiliation of rejection.

after the initial meeting orchestrated by haechan where you’d painfully awkwardly confessed your mutual feelings, you'd danced around each other for a few days, sending only shy smiles and waves to one other. a little while later, you’d finally mustered up enough courage with the help of jaemin to ask jisung out on a date. a heavy blush colored his cheeks, and he agreed through a very cute, nervous grin. a week passed and he’d asked you on a second, you the third, and eventually, you became a couple. the whole world (your friends) rejoiced.

a few weeks in jisung asked if he could hold your hand, and though both your palms were practically trembling and you couldn’t bring yourselves to look directly at each other due to your extremely red faces, your fingers fit together perfectly and your heart felt warm and fluttery. not too long after, you had to assure jisung that it was okay for him to sit on your bed the first time he’d visited your bedroom (and again, when you told him you didn't just mean the edge of the bed.) it took a while for you to act like a couple, or at least a “traditional” one; you just had to work at your own pace.

four months later and its mark’s birthday party; a huge gathering with tons of people and very loud music that made the area humid and the bass rumble up through your legs. you and jisung had arrived together, mingling with mutual friends mixed with a few new faces, and although it was a good time, jisung noticed how your fingers gripped his arm a little tighter than usual and how your breath shook when you pressed yourself up against him in the crowded space. quickly escorting you outside for some fresh air, he suggested a quiet night in instead, and though you apologized for stealing him away from his hyung’s celebration, the shake of his head and his kind smile told you there was no need.

so now you sit back at the dream dorm together alone, really alone, for the first time. though you know your friends truly do mean well, the lighthearted teasing and cutesy cheek squishing every time you and jisung did something “adorable” wasn’t exactly the best for breaking you out of your shells. with no prying eyes trying to witness every milestone of the budding relationship of the groups resident youngest, a sort of weight is lifted from your shoulders and the atmosphere feels refreshing.

“jisungieee,” you impatiently call out to your boyfriend in a sing-songy cadence, leaning your heavy head against the back of the sofa, rubbing at your eyes with a pair of clumsy hands. the bottle of sparkly pink wine (of which neither of you knew exactly who it belonged to, but made a mental note to buy a new one later) you both shared has undoubtedly started to take a toll on you, and by the sound of it, it’s done the same to jisung.

“yeeees?” he mimics your tone, albeit an octave lower, as he shuffles back in from the kitchen, carrying a box of crackers and two bottles of water under one arm and shoving a handful of said crackers in his mouth with the other. you shift around to watch him giggle cutely as he almost trips over his own feet, dropping everything clumsily onto the couch and climbing over the arm rest to plop down beside you. he snuggles down into the cushion, draping the shared blanket over his pajama clad legs.

jisung doesn't notice as you lay your head back again and blatantly admire him. maybe its the alcohol that’s made you confident enough to do so, but you can’t bring yourself to help it. your eyes trace the side profile of his face, admiring the way his lips pout a little as he chews his snack and how his tousled hair bunches up on his forehead when he lifts a hand to push his glasses up the bridge of his cute little nose. for what feels like the thousandth time you lose yourself in thoughts of just how beautiful he is, and question just how you landed yourself in the sweetest relationship with the sweetest boy. your friends are annoying for sure, but you guess you do have them to thank for the best thing thats ever happened to you.

jisung cracks open one of the bottles and tilts his head back to take a drink. just as he takes notice of your stillness and looks over at you, his cheeks puffed up water, you snap your head forward, a small knowing smile on your lips and a heat on your cheeks. you don't see it, but jisung’s face mirrors yours as he screws the cap back on.

“your turn, pretty boy,” falls quickly and quietly from your lips and you drop the controller on his leg, nodding towards the tv screen in front of you thats lit up with bright colors and blaring the upbeat music of the low budget party game you both decided to play. it takes jisung a second to take in what you said but when he does it seems like he’s momentarily forgotten how to breathe. he sputters just a bit from the sharp intake of air that betrayed him, instinctively burying his face in the collar of his hoodie to cough up the bit of water that went into his lungs, and he looks at you.

“hmmf?” he mumbles out a muffled noise of confusion.

“what?” you ask, tilting your head. you hear him swallow nervously as he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. the words had fallen past your lips before you could stop them, and you had almost forgotten you'd even said them as you hadn’t even really expected his ears to catch it. you nearly backtrack, worried that you made him uncomfortable, but you see his cheeks flush pink above where his collar sits just below his nose, and his eyes are so soft as they scan your face. the liquid courage you drank pulses through you again. you meant it, so why take it back?

you give him a small lopsided grin. you reach up to gently grab his hands and pull them down to bring his whole face back into view.

“pretty,” you say sweetly. “you’re my pretty boy.”

jisung’s mind stutters for a moment. his eyes are slightly cloudy, big and brown and as sweet as a doe, and you see the telltale hint of a smile.

you mindlessly twist the strings of his hoodie around your fingers, so lost in the moment you almost forget where you are. jisung’s head feels heavy and he doesn’t realize that he's leaning forward until he catches himself with two hands on either side of your lap, making both of you flinch a bit in surprise. you breathe out a shy laugh in tandem, a small ‘sorry’ falling from his lips. as you feel his hands grip softly around the blanket at your sides, yours find themselves pressed to his chest below his collarbone, and you take notice of the way you can feel how fast his heart is beating even above his chest.

you’re so close to each other, and you're not exactly strangers to the proximity, but there’s an energy buzzing around you like it never quite has before.

“can i kiss you?” jisung asks just barely above a whisper, as if he hadn't almost just done so accidentally.

you nod your head. he leans in further, slowly, the ghost of his lips brushing ever so gently against yours. the rapid beating of your own pulse in your ears nearly deafens you, and right now you're so unabashedly unaware of everything that isn't jisung. a small peck here and there is the most you've shared up to this point, but in this moment your mouths are slightly open, eyes locked on each other, rose wine tinted breath heavy and hazy in anticipation for the moment that you meet in the middle.

you both jump at the sudden clatter of the controller from your game long forgotten falling to the floor, the movement of the joystick lighting the muted screen again and making the music louder. you let out a squeak, your hands flying up to grab jisung by his shoulders while his immediately find your waist. your noses knock together and you let out a surprised noise at the same time. a beat of silence passes, and after realizing what happened, a spell of nervous drunken laughter simmers between you.

jisung takes in upon himself to rest his forehead against yours, and your arms find their way further around his frame to rest at the back of his neck and pull him closer into you. you sway softly side to side with the weight of each other, intoxicated giggles still bubbling in your chests and you feel a little more relaxed holding onto one another.

feeling the heat of the moment overwhelming you, you can’t help but to grip the base of jisung’s neck and tug him forward and capture his lips in a kiss. his breath falters for a fleeting second, fingers gripping your hips just a little tighter. you chuckle on his mouth, pulling back just enough to disconnect and you can feel his heart sprinting in his chest the same as yours.

jisung swallows the tension in his throat. he rests his forehead on yours again, his breath shaking with nerves. when one of your hands glides up into his hair, carding through the strands with a featherlike touch, he sighs dreamily, just a small puff of soft hair that hits your wet lips. he relaxes enough to let himself reach up to cup your jaw, tilting your face to kiss you at a deeper angle. its your turn to be caught off guard; your lips fit together in a way that immediately makes your head spin with full bliss, completely entranced in the feeling of him pressed against you and your lips moving in sync.

“yaahh!! cute!!”

at the sound of chenle’s voice breaking through the atmosphere your heart leaps out of your chest. you pull back from your boyfriend, diving in to hide your face in his chest. equally embarrassed, jisung grabs the blanket and flings it up to cover the both of you. you can hear the bustle of your inebriated friends arriving back home from the party and chenle gushing about what he’d just witnessed, a chorus of equally excited hoots following behind him.

there's just enough dim light leaking through the threads of the blanket to see jisung’s face, still only inches from yours. he's flustered, you can tell, but his smile is so loving you could almost forget the embarrassment flooding through your body. he presses another bold kiss to your lips.

“we’ll never live this down,” jisung groans quietly.

“how do we get out of here?” you ask honestly, knowing that your friends will all have their cameras ready to capture your guilty faces.

an idea seems to pop into jisung's head just then.

“how well do you think we can make it to my room without being able to see?”

he gives no explanation as he’s pulling you onto your clumsy feet and tugging you into his side with an arm around your shoulders, but you catch on quickly as he urges you to start walking with the blanket still cloaked over the both of your heads. you stumble so awkwardly across the living room in a trek to jisung’s bedroom that its impossible to even attempt a straight line, boisterous laughter emitting from the both of you as you nearly crumple under each other’s weight more than a few times. you practically knock into every square inch of wall down the hallway and upon finally reaching his door you all but tumble inside.

jisung slams the door closed and locks it behind him, letting your shield of a blanket fall to rest on his shoulders. he leans against it and lets out a heavy sigh, comically wiping sweat from his forehead with a “whew!” you look at each other, giggling at the way your hair is mussed up and your faces are flushed in the light from the street lamp peeking in from the curtains. you let yourself fall against him, wrapping your arms snugly around his waist. he grins, leaning down to press a series of ticklish kisses against the side of your neck, making your face scrunch up in laughter.

“i think they're finally asleep,” jeno whispers to the group a few hours later, pressing his ear against the door and listening for any sounds.

it takes half of the boys to figure out how to open the door, but when they do, what meets their eyes makes all six of them melt and they have to physically stop themselves from making a scene.

you and jisung fell into a deep sleep, even breathing lifting your chests in perfect sync. you’re wearing his shirt and a pair of his flannel pants, snuggled up into jisung's side, head nestled in the crook of his neck and a leg draped across his waist. jisung's arms wrap around your torso, his head resting on top of yours, his cheek squished up against your hair.

“ohhh, they’re gonna hate us,” renjun chuckles evilly, creeping forward to snap several pictures at multiple angles.

the group chat in the morning is surely a mess.