STAY THIS WAY, MY BABY!

ilem | a fic recs side blog!! | 25 |

[amoryeonjun]

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[nonranghaes]

i'm feeling kind of lonely today.

it's a simple enough text, but it's what brings chris over to your home this late as he snuggles into your side, grinning at the youtube video you've got pulled up on your TV. sure, the ads suck compare to watching on your laptop, but you don't mind it as much when chris is around. both of you have been a little too busy to see each other lately, the only semblance of his presence being in the fleeting texts that you send off to each other: good morning and here's what i'm having for lunch, i hope you're well and can we call? and i missed hearing your voice. sweet dreams. i love you. but the days feel like they're just getting longer and longer whenever you don't see him.

truly, you didn't mean to bring him. but that itch of feeling alone had crawled underneath your skin, and so you texted, and so he came running. his lips graze the underside of your jaw for a moment, just a chaste kiss before his head settles back on your shoulder.

"hey." his arm curls around your bicep, and then slowly slides down until his hand is in yours. "i missed you, y'know."

you told him once you'd been a lonely kid, a lonely teenager, and now a lonely adult who has friends but adulthood keeps you all busy in different ways. chris always promised that if you needed him, he would come running to keep you company before those dark thoughts can seep back in.

and he has. and one day, he won't have to run anymore. his lease will be up in a few months, and then he'll be moving in with you, and all you'll have to do is turn over if you want to see his sleeping face.

for now, you'll settle for stealing a kiss before falling asleep on the couch together... and then cursing the choice to do so when your back hurts a little too much the following morning.

[seospicybin]

COCKY.

CHAPTER FIVE

Hyunjin x reader. (s)

MASTERLIST

Synopsis: When you signed up for a paid product testing program, you expected free samples and money. What you didn’t expect was to be paired with Hwang Hyunjin and assigned to test a series of increasingly questionable sexual wellness products together. (16,8k words)

Author's note: Ok guys, brace yourself for impact* and hope you enjoy it (*reads angst 🫣)

The email comes in quietly. Just a soft ping somewhere between the clutter of unread messages and half-finished drafts.

Hyunjin almost ignores it. He’s slouched in his chair, one leg stretched out under the desk, the other hooked loosely around it, pencil spinning lazily between his fingers while his screen glows with a half-done sketch he hasn’t touched in the last ten minutes. His mind isn’t there. It hasn’t been all morning. Not since—

He exhales through his nose, stopping the thought before it finishes and the ping comes again.

This time, he glances at it and the subject line catches his attention:

Final Submission Deadline – Product Testing Program

The pencil slips from his fingers, rolling across the desk until it bumps against his phone with a dull tap. For a second, he just stares at the screen and considers not to open it. Like maybe if he just let it sits there, unread. It won’t be real.

At one point, he caves in with a sigh and clicks it open.

Dear Participants,

This is a reminder that the final product evaluation must be submitted by the end of this week. Please ensure all testing sessions are completed and documented accordingly. Late submissions will not be accepted and therefore, will not receive full compensation and ineligible to enter the drawing for main prize.

Hyunjin slowly leans back in his chair as the weight of it settling somewhere uncomfortable in his chest. The test program ends this week and then… that’s it. No test schedule. No product testing. Just— done.

His jaw shifts slightly as he reads the email again, like maybe the words will rearrange themselves into something less absolute. Instead, his mind drifts to you and all the times he’s shared with you and with it, the chances he let slipped away.

His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek because to him it means more than just a test. More than the compensation and the mere promise of a free vacation. More than he’s comfortable admitting.

Hyunjin huffs out a quiet breath, dragging a hand through his dark locks before leaning forward again, elbows resting on the desk as he stares at the email.

“One more,” he mutters under his breath.

One more test. One more night. One more excuse. And then what?

His gaze flicks to his phone and he hopes that you’d have sent him something. But nothing. Nothing after that night. But that’s how you are. Clean lines. Clear boundaries. He used to like that but now— now it just irritates him.

Hyunjin reaches for his phone, unlocking it without thinking, thumb hovering over your name and thinks that at least, he has a reason to text you now.

So when are we going to do the final test?

He stares at the message for a second. It’s casual and normal, but… detached. So not what he’s actually thinking and wanting to say. Still, he hits send.

The message goes through instantly, delivered and Hyunjin grabs his pencil back, trying to continue working but his mind won’t quiet. He thought this would be simple and fun. Something temporary, but somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling that way. And the next thing he knows, the end is here — looming, inevitable and he finds himself dreading it. Because once it’s over and so are you. Or at least, the version of you he gets to have like this.

Hyunjin manages to force himself to work, mostly because he needs the distraction. An hour passed in a blink of an eye and he allows himself a break, or rather, a chance to check his phone. His fingers work fast to open the messaging app and the last message he sent you just… sits there. Delivered and seen, but no reply. Which is worse.

Hyunjin refreshes and refreshes it again, like that’ll somehow speed things up. Your chat stays exactly the same. No answer.

He exhales, pushing himself up from his chair. “Alright, guess I’m coming to you,” he mutters.

And at least now, he has a reason to see you.

-

Once the elevator doors slide open, Hyunjin makes a turn to the right, toward your office and he notices right away that you’re not on your desk. He continues walking as he spots Gabe is there, hunched over her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard like she’s in a race against time.

“Morning,” Hyunjin calls out.

“Mm,” she half-heartedly replies without looking up.

That’s new. He arches a brow but doesn’t comment, instead making himself comfortable by perching on the edge of your desk. He takes a look at your things on the desk and impressed by how organized they are. His fingers reach for a bowl of candies without asking, fishing one out, unwrapping it lazily before popping it into his mouth.

He patiently waits as he sucks on the sweetness of caramel in his mouth, letting the silence stretch, only filled by the rapid clicking of keys and the occasional frustrated sigh from Gabe.

When she finally stops, she looks up and just like that, her expression brightens, like she’s remembered her manners. “Oh—hi, when did you get here?” she says properly this time, smiling.

Hyunjin shrugs, chewing slowly. “Long enough.”

“So, what are you doing here?” There’s a playful lilt to her voice as she asks it. Then her eyes light up, her smile brightens. “Wait—are you here to tell me you’re taking me as your plus one for the hotel voucher?”

God, she makes this too easy. Hyunjin grins and leans back slightly, slipping into the lie without hesitation. “Actually, my friend just got married. I gave the voucher to him as a wedding gift.” he says, dragging it out just a little.

Gabe’s smile falters. Just a little. “Aww… what a shame,” she mutters, deflating.

For a second, Hyunjin almost feels bad. Almost. “I’ll make it up to you with a lunch. My treat,” he adds quickly.

That works to make the smile on Gabe’s face widens and brightens. She perks up instantly, eyes lighting again. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin answers without the slightest of hesitation.

She holds his gaze and grins. “I’m holding you to that.”

He raises a hand, putting it over his chest dramatically. “Please do.”

Hyunjin pushes himself off your desk then, wandering over to hers like this was his plan all along. He mindlessly plays with little figurine on Gabe’s desk and then too casually, he asks, “Where’s Miss Perfect Planner?”

Gabe props her chin on her hands, elbows on the desk, clearly slipping into her favorite mode now—gossip. “She got called to the CMO’s office about fifteen minutes ago,” she says.

Hyunjin pretends to be busy playing with the figurine to care. If only Gabe is clever enough to notice, there’s a flicker behind his expression before he smooths it over.

“Ah,” he hums.

Instead, Gabe leans in slightly, lowering her voice like she’s about to share state secrets. “I wonder what they’re talking about in there.”

Hyunjin lets out a small, dismissive chuckle. “Work, probably.”

Gabe scrunches her nose. “Yeah… probably.”

When he thought she’s about to drop the conversation there, she takes a sip of her coffee, eyes narrowing slightly in thought as she adds, “Could be something else...”

Hyunjin laughs again, lighter this time, like it doesn’t matter. Like it doesn’t bother him at all. “Wow. You’re really invested in this.”

Gabe holds his mug with both hands and then shrugs, unapologetic. “I like a good story.”

Honestly, Hyunjin can’t ignore that possibility too. But you can’t be, right? You’re all about rules and professional, you couldn’t be talking about something other than work with Seungmin.

“Anyway, what did you come here for?” Gabe asks, snapping Hyunjin out of his thoughts.

Hyunjin opens his mouth, ready to lie again but he stops when he hears the clicking sounds of heels against the floor. He turns his head to the side and there you are.

You step in, mid-thought, mid-motion and pause when you see him sitting there like he’s been waiting. Your brows knit together slightly, confused. Caught off guard, maybe.

“Oh, there you are,” he says easily, getting off Gabe’s desk.

Before you can question him, Hyunjin closes the distance, his hand landing lightly on your shoulder as he steers you away. “I need to talk to you,” he adds, already walking.

“About what?” you ask.

“The invitation design we talked about the other day,” he lies smoothly, still steering you away.

He opens the door to the empty meeting room and you don’t resist as he gently pushes you inside. Then he steps in after you.

The second the door shuts behind him, you turn on your feet to face him and still convinced that it’s about work. “What design are we talking about? I don’t think—” you stop talking when you see his grin.

Your face drops instantly into annoyance and flatly say, “Don’t joke about work.”

He shrugs, completely unbothered. “But it’s fun seeing you like that.”

You glare, arms crossing over your chest. “Then what do you need?”

He leans back against the table, hands resting along the edge. “Did you get my text?”

“Yes.”

“And…?”

“I was in a meeting.”

Right. Hyunjin nods slowly. “With Seungmin?”

“With the CMO, yes,” you correct him.

“What kind of meeting?” he asks it casually, but the intention is not.

Your eyes narrow just slightly. “That’s not your business.”

There it is. The line. He decides to let go. “Did you see the email about the test program deadline?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

You nonchalantly shrug. “I’m not worried because we’ll finish it on time.”

Hyunjin studies you for a second before asking, “And when are we doing the final test?”

With a tilt of your head and a playful glint in your eyes, you tease, “Ooo, someone’s impatient.”

Hyunjin is thrown off for a second because that’s not what he expected. He recovers quickly, a grin sliding back into place. “Of course, I am. We’re going to win that free vacation, remember?”

You nod like that makes sense and think for a second. “How about tomorrow then?”

“No.

His answer is too fast and rather, suspicious. He quickly schools his face to remain calm, not willing to let it show that tomorrow is too soon for him. That he’s not ready for it. And that he actually doesn’t want it to end soon.

“Didn’t you just say we need to finish it on time?” you ask with eyes slightly narrowed.

Hyunjin opens his mouth and then closes it. Then scrambles to explain, “Well—yeah, but… It’s the last one. It should be special.”

You let out a long, tired sigh. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

He scoffs. “Why not?”

“Because you’re the one planning it.”

He grins at that, stepping closer, hands finding your arms without hesitation. “You’ll like it this time.”

You roll your eyes. But you don’t pull away from the idea. “When, then?” you ask.

Hyunjin thinks quickly, but carefully. Since they only have to submit within the duration, he can definitely push it to the final date. “This weekend,” he decides.

You take a second to consider it and then nod. “I’ll see you then.”

And just like that, you’re turning toward the door.

Hyunjin straightens slightly as he calls after you. “It’ll be special,” he assures you.

You open the door, glancing back over your shoulder and offering him a faint smile. “Can’t wait,” you flatly say.

The you step out of the door and Hyunjin stands there for a second with a smile slowly rises on his face. Because you said can’t wait. But the way you said it? Yeah. You’re not the only one pretending.

-

The days slip past him faster than he expects. Everything feels… suspended, like he’s just waiting for something to arrive and then, it does.

The weekend is here and by the time he pulls up in front of your house, the late afternoon sun is dipping low, casting everything in that soft golden light that makes things feel warmer than they actually are.

He cuts the engine, reaches into the backseat, grabbing what he needs—a backpack slung over one shoulder, a paper bag hooked in his fingers.

For a second, his gaze flicks to the door. He still has your spare key. He could just walk in. But, no. Tonight deserves more than that.

So he steps out, shuts the car door, and walks up to the front door like he doesn’t already know this place inside out. Then knocks on it. Once. Twice.

He doesn’t have to wait long for the door to open and there you are, leaning against the frame, casual, like you’ve been expecting him—but not this early.

Hyunjin’s grin comes easy as he lifts the paper bag in his hand and cheerily announces, “Dinner’s here.”

It earns him exactly what he wants— that faint, reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “You’re early. That’s new,” you say, one brow lifting.

He shrugs, shifting the bag in his hand. “I’m full of surprises.”

You don’t even bother entertaining that. Just step aside, opening the door wider for him.

Hyunjin steps in, crossing the threshold and dropping his things in the living room without much thought before following you toward the kitchen.

You stop there, turning slowly, hands braced against the counter behind you. “So, what’s for dinner?”

Hyunjin watches you for a second. Then smiles. “There’s something you have to do first.”

A flicker of confusion crosses your face. “What?”

He jerks his chin toward the chair. “Sit. Wait here.”

You sigh immediately, suspicion written all over your face. “If this is another one of your experimental cooking techniques—”

“It’s not,” he cuts in quickly. His grin widening as he adds, “It’s worse.”

Your eyes widen in horror and that’s enough to make him laugh. “Relax,” he quickly assures you, shaking his head. “Do you want dinner or not?”

“Yes. And I’d like to have it now,” you say in a firm, impatient tone.

“Then sit and I’ll tell you when it’s ready,” he simply says.

Another sigh escapes you, in defeat this time. “Please, hurry.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He steps closer before you can move, hands finding your shoulders easily, guiding you back into the chair. You let him even if you roll your eyes while doing it.

Hyunjin lingers behind you for a second longer than necessary, bending down just enough so his mouth hovers close to your ear. “Sit still and be patient,” he murmurs.

Before you can stop him, he presses a quick kiss to your cheek and triumphantly grins when he sees your surprised, slightly flustered expression. He quickly straightening himself, grabbing his things and heads toward the back.

When you see him walk past the kitchen, you shout, “You don’t want to mess with a hungry girl.”

He chuckles under his breath, stopping for a second to shout back, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He continues walking toward the back door. Toward whatever ridiculous, over-the-top plan he’s cooked up this time. And as he steps out into the backyard, Hyunjin can’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Because if this is how it ends, he’s making sure it’s anything but forgettable.

-

The sun hangs low, dipping toward the horizon, painting everything in warm gold and soft orange. Hyunjin gets to work, setting everything up for his special night. He lays the picnic mat first—right in the middle of the yard where the view is best. The projector takes him a minute to set up, adjusting the angle, stepping back, squinting, stepping forward again until the image lands cleanly against the blank wall of your house. He leaves the garden lights off and instead, he flicks on the back porch light, letting it spill softly into the yard.

He steps back once more, scanning everything and a quiet breath leaves him.

“Not bad,” he mutters.

Satisfied, Hyunjin turns and heads back inside. He walks into the house like he has springs on his feet but he abruptly stops on his track when he sees you’re not in the kitchen where he told you to wait. He pauses, glancing around briefly before moving toward the living room and finds you curled on the sofa, a book in your hands, completely at ease like time moves slower around you. His steps slow without him realizing and admires the sight for a bit. Because you look… soft like this. Untouched by everything that’s been circling between the two of you.

When you notice him, you stretch—arms lifting above your head, back arching slightly as you set the book aside. “Is it ready?” you ask.

He doesn’t answer right away. Just walks up to you, a smile already tugging at his lips as he holds his hands out.

You slip your glasses off first, putting it away along with the book. Then place your hands in his with no hesitation at all

Hyunjin helps you up, his grip steady, one hand lingering around yours even after you’re standing. “Come on,” he says.

He doesn’t let go. He leads you through the house, toward the back door with that quiet anticipation building with every step. Right before opening it, he stops and turns slightly toward you. “Don’t be too surprised.”

You tilt your head, putting on an exaggerated, almost mocking expression—wide-eyed, smitten. “Wow, I’m already impressed,” you say dryly.

He knows you’re teasing but it doesn’t matter. You’re cute even when you faked a delighted expression. He smiles anyway, then turns the knob and pulls the door open. “After you.”

You step out first and stop right there on the porch, taking in the picnic setup in the middle of the backyard, the soft light, the sky melting into evening hues. You turn your head slightly, glancing at him.

“The forecast says it’s going to rain tonight,” you inform.

Your tone is light, matter-of-factly but he catches that quiet, reluctant approval underneath. “Nope, not going to let you ruin it,” he decides, taking your hand in his and then guides you down the steps, toward the mat, steadying you without making it obvious. He waits until you’re comfortably seated before taking his place beside you.

When you look at him again, there’s that question in your eyes. “This what you meant by special?”

Hyunjin grins, proud and completely unashamed. “And by special, it means…” he says, gesturing loosely around, “…romantic.”

He pauses for effect and then proudly declares. “That’s the theme for tonight. Romance.”

Your lips part slightly, probably ready to protest, but he cuts you off immediately. “Now—for dinner.”

He reaches for the brown paper bag, setting it between you both like it’s something grand.

And then ruins the illusion completely as he pulls out a burger and hands it to you. Then another for himself. He rips open the bag, dumping the fries right into it without ceremony before grabbing two soda cans from the side.

When he looks back at you, you’re staring at him. Unimpressed. “Burger and lukewarm soda? Really?”

Hyunjin just smiles. Unbothered. “It’s not about the food. It’s about who you’re eating it with.”

He gestures upward and continues talking, “Together. Under the stars.”

You follow his gaze, looking at the sky and… there are no stars. Just fading light and clouds slowly gathering. “There’s no starts because it’s going to rain soon,” you point out.

He gives you a small shake of head and ignores that. “And I prepared a movie.”

“Oh, no,” you groan immediately.

“I found the dirtiest, nastiest porn on—”

You don’t wait for him to finish, but rise from the mat.

Hyunjin quickly stops you, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you from leaving the mat. “I’m joking,” he says, half-laughing.

You sit back down with your lips curl into a pout.

“I actually have something worse,” he says proudly. Then, quickly add, “But on theme.”

“Romantic?”

“Very.”

You relax slightly at that and then glance back at the food. “Can I eat now?”

He holds up a finger. “Wait.”

Hyunjin pops the tab on your soda first, handing it to you, then opens his only for it to fizz violently, foam rising too fast. “Ah—hurry, lift your can!” He mutters in a rush.

You do, confused.

He rushes to clink his can against yours in a rushed, uneven toast. “To—whatever this is—”

“To a romantic night,” you correct with lack of enthusiasm.

“Yes, that,” he says and hastily takes a long drink before it spills over.

Hyunjin catches the way you let out a small soft, amused chuckle before sipping yours and the soda feels warms as he swallows it down. He leans back slightly, looking at you, then at the sky, then at everything he’s set up around you both.

It’s simple, a little chaotic, far from perfect but, it feels like it might be. And Hyunjin has a feeling that tonight is going to be a beautiful night.

-

Hyunjin barely registers the movie anymore because you’re right here next to him. Close enough that your knee brushes his every now and then, close enough that he can hear the quiet rhythm of your chewing, the small hums you make when you take a sip of your soda.

He pops another fry into his mouth, glancing at you as you do the same—bite of burger, sip of soda, repeat, like some unspoken rhythm the two of you have fallen into.

“It’s good, right?” he asks, mouth half full, already knowing the answer.

You nod, chewing.

Hyunjin leans back slightly, smug. “Of course it is. You’re eating it with me.”

You nod again, like you’re entertaining him, like you might actually. “Could be that,” you say lightly.

And then you swallow, tilt your head just slightly, and ruin it. “But I think it’s mostly because I’m hungry,” you cheekily add.

His cheeks puff out, full of food, as he stares at you in disbelief. “You never let me win,” he mumbles around the bite, a soft, offended whine slipping through.

You just grin and it’s unfair. The way you look tonight—relaxed, softer, brighter than he’s used to seeing you. It throws him off in the best way.

After a moment, he swallows and gestures vaguely. “You done?”

You nod, brushing your fingers together.

Hyunjin moves immediately, gathering the wrappers, the empty containers, shoving everything into a plastic bag. Then he pauses, digging into his bag again. “Wait,” he says, already pulling out wet wipes.

You don’t argue. You just sit there, letting him take your hand and gently clean your fingers.

The gesture is simple, but something about it says otherwise.

“Thank you,” you murmur with a soft smile.

He shrugs like it’s nothing, even as something quietly flips inside his chest. He wipes his own hands next, then straightens, clapping once. “Alright, time for dessert,” he announces.

Your brows immediately lift in interest and that alone makes him grin.

He pulls out the container, flips it open with a little flourish, and offers it to you. Chocolate-covered strawberries. The chocolate glistening, melting from the warmth of spring night.

Your face lights up, already reaching for one. “They look so good,” you beam.

Hyunjin watches you take a bite, watches the way your expression brightens instantly, the delighted hum of approval that slips from you.

“And they’re so sweet too,” you murmur.

And God—he could live in that expression. Right there. That ease, that warmth. He leans back slightly, studying you and then carefully says, “You’re tame tonight.”

You lick a bit of chocolate from your thumb, slow and absentminded, then sigh softly.

“Maybe because it’s the final test tonight,” you honestly answer and then briefly glance at him. “This nightmare is almost over.”

Hyunjin lets out a loud, dramatic gasp. His hand clutching at his chest like you’ve just offended him.

You laugh and the sound is crisp, almost melodic and he feels something fluttering in his stomach.

“I’m just relieved we’re finishing on time,” you say with a soft sigh. Then, a second later, you look at him and add, “And safely.”

“You’re forgetting that one incident on out first test,” he mumbles, then bites into his strawberry.

You laugh again and this time, with your mouth full of food. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“My mouth was numb for hours,” he insists.

“You’re so dramatic.”

He huffs, but he’s smiling. He always is, around you. Without thinking, he reaches over, thumb brushing the corner of your lips.

“Hold still,” he murmurs.

You do and even lean in close enough so he can wipe the smudge of chocolate away and then, without breaking eye contact, licks it from his thumb.

“You should admit though that this has been fun,” he says, too casually after what he’s just done.

You take your time finishing the strawberry, like you’re thinking, like you’re deciding whether to give him the answer he wants.

He leans in slightly, gaze locking onto yours, challenging you to lie to his face.

A soft chuckle slips from you and you finally admit, “Yeah, it’s been fun.”

A grin slowly rises on his small face and he leans back onto his elbows, stretching out. “We should do it again sometime.”

You shake your head immediately, laughing. “No.”

He turns his head, slightly offended by the immediate rejection. “No?”

You keep shaking your head.

He tilts closer and his tone flirtatious as he asks, “Not to the test program… or no to the sex?”

You lean in then, daringly close an inch or two between your faces and Hyunjin tells himself to stay cool.

Your lips curve into a sly smile and say, “No to you.”

He gasps again, louder this time. Scandalized. But he recovers quickly, grin slipping back into his plush lips. “At least you said yes to the sex.”

You scoff at that but you don’t argue. And he takes that as a win.

“Feed me,” he says, nudging the container toward you.

You stare at him. “No.”

“Come on, romance me for once,” he whines.

You roll your eyes but you reach for a strawberry anyway. You hold it by the stem as he opens his mouth, waiting. You shove half of it in and he bites down, the sweetness bursting across his tongue, chocolate melting after it—and before he can even finish, you pop the other half into your own mouth.

You lick your fingers clean and chuckle when you look at him. “There’s chocolate on your lips,” you say.

He leans in immediately. “Clean it for me then.”

Your hand lifts but he’s quick to catch it, lowering it. “Not with your hand.”

You pause for a second to finally get what he demanded and to his surprise, you go ahead with it. You lean in closer and closer until your breath brushes his lips. You gently hold his chin, keeping his head turned slightly to the side and then land a soft lick, tongue barely grazing but enough to clean the smudge of chocolate on the corner of his mouth

Hyunjin doesn’t want to miss this chance. He turns his head to meet your lips and crash them against yours. He takes the hand holding his chin, pulling you in and deeper. You don’t fight it, but melt into it. He feels the way you give in, the way your body leans into his instead of pulling away.  And oh, your lips are so sweet, so soft, so… fucking addictive. And he chases it again and again. And again.

His hand slides along your side, feeling the warmth of you through the fabric, the subtle curve beneath his palm. You shift closer, and suddenly the space between you disappears entirely. He moves without thinking, guiding you down onto the cushion, hovering over you as his mouth finds yours again.

The movie? Forgotten.

The dessert? Left behind.

It’s just you and him.

Until all of a sudden, you break the kiss and look at him with a questioning look on your face. “Did you drool?”

He looks at you, eyes blinking innocently, caught off guard. “What—”

A drop hits his cheek, cold and wet, and for a second, both of you exchange a look. Another drop lands on the top of his head. Then another.

“It’s raining,” you mutter.

Chaos erupts. You scramble up, grabbing the edge of the picnic mat, dragging it toward the house while he fumbles with the projector, nearly dropping it in the process.

“I got it, I got it—!” he assures as he’s forgetting the bag of food still sitting there, on the process of getting soaked by the rainwater and runs for it.

You don’t got it, he absolutely does not got it and by the time you both make it inside, slightly breathless, a little damp, the rain has already picked up outside.

You turn to him immediately. “I told you it was going to rain.”

He breathlessly laughs, unbothered and you try to stay annoyed, but you break, laughing with him.

The sound fills the room, mingling with the sound of the rain outside and eventually, the hilarity slowly fades. The silence returns. Not the awkward kind, but the kind that sets the sparks alive between you and him.

Hyunjin looks at you, at your hair slightly damp, strands clinging together. Your lashes stuck together from the rain. The wet marks of rain on your powder blue dress. You look softer like this, like something he can hold close and treasure all night.

Your voice drops, quieter now. “Guess the romantic night is over.”

“Not really,” he mutters, stepping closer and before you can say anything else, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in, lifting you effortlessly off the ground.

You gasp in surprise, hands instinctively grabbing onto him and Hyunjin just grins as he carries you toward the guest bedroom.

-

A laugh spills out of you as Hyunjin tosses you gently onto the bed and you land with a soft bounce.

“Wait, that’s not romantic at all,” you complain between breaths.

He climbs over you immediately, caging you in, one knee sinking into the mattress beside your hip, hands braced on either side of your head. A grin blooms on his face as he simply retorts. “It is in my head.”

He leans in, a hand reaches for your chin. His thumb lightly tracing your lower lip, pulling it down and that’s when he kisses you again. He feels the hint of chocolate and rain on your lips, and the way your laughter fades into it, adding a different kind of sweetness into it.

His mouth moves against yours, deeper, hungrier. His hands begin to wander, impatiently so, finding the seams of your dress, the zipper at your back. He fumbles with it as he’s having a hard time to split his focus in two: kissing you and unzipping your dress.

You break the kiss with a low breath, reaching behind you to help, your fingers quick and practiced where his aren’t. Soon, the zipper gives, the fabric loosens, and suddenly the space between you feels thinner.

You push at his shoulders, just enough to flip the dynamic for a second, fingers working at ease as you unbutton them. When you part it open, you gasp.

“What?” he asks immediately, a flicker of panic cutting through the haze.

You sit up slightly, eyes narrowing as you lean closer to his neck. “You have a mosquito bite.”

“What?” he says, still puzzled. His hand cluelessly rubbing over his neck.

“This one is even bigger,” you say, fingers moving to his shoulder, tracing lightly over the raised skin.

The soft gaze and the genuine concern make something warm curl in his chest. He has to bite back a smile. “Now that you’ve pointed it out. I can feel it itching,” he mutters playfully.

Your hand doesn’t stop rubbing over it and you say, almost sweetly, “Good. I hope it itches so badly.”

“Hope it itches so badly,” he repeats with a quiet laugh and then retaliates.

He dips his head into your neck, pressing ticklish kisses, teeth lightly nibbling on your skin, and you immediately squirm beneath him, laughter breaking out again.

“Hyunjin—stop—!”

He doesn’t stop. Not until your laughter softens, until your body settles again under his, until the space between you crackles with sparks again. Then his mouth finds yours again and just like that, the heat returns. Stronger.

His jeans become the next obstacle as your hands fiddle with the button but not long after, the sound of zipper opening echoes between you, obscenely louder than it should. He flips to the side, removing the whole thing until he’s bare beside you.

Before he can react, you get on top of him, body pressing from above him, warm and soft all over. Your mouths automatically locked again in a kiss, hands going all over your back and eventually meeting the strap of your bra. He works slowly as he unclasps it and he feels your low gasp against his mouth when it snaps open.

You break the kiss to sit up, taking the bra off of you, exposing your bare chest and soft mounds to him, only to him. For a brief moment, you just sit there straddling him, a smirk tugging at your lips as you look down on him, a seductive, dangerous smirk.

You lower your mouth on him again and Hyunjin is more than eager to welcome it, a hand settles on the back of your neck. The rest of your body follows after, slowly molding into his shape and your crotch somehow burrowing deeper, seeking heat though there’s the flimsy layer of your underwear separating them in between.

The hand on the back of your neck moves, tracing down your spine and resting for a bit on the arch of your back, fingers edging the elastic band of your underwear before slips them inside. He doesn’t stop himself from fondling on your ass cheeks, feeling the flesh gives in to his greedy touches.

Impatient, he yanks your underwear down just as far as his arms let him and they stuck somewhere around your thighs. He brings his hand upward, fingers running between your ass cheeks and a little lower to the source of heat. He sighs against your mouth at the feeling your wetness welcoming his fingers. And oh, it’s just good to know that he’s not the only one wanting this, burning from this.

You pull away just enough to give an inch or two between your faces, allowing him to see your expression shifts as he pushes two fingers into you — the way your brows furrowing just slightly, the way your face tenses just for a fraction before it loosens, the way your mouth falls open with a breathless gasp escaping it.

He continues, pumping his fingers in and out of you, drawing your essence to flood and eventually drips onto him. As if drawn by the heat, he pulls away only to reach down between your bodies, hand wrapping around his semi-hard and put it between your legs. You instinctively close your thighs around it and he feels it, your wet, hot cunt pressing against his shaft.

Through his half-lidded eyes, he notices the way you’re watching his face for reaction as you cross your legs together around the ankles to give him that tightness he seeks. He doesn’t hold himself back from letting a groan slips out of his mouth and you quickly capture it with a kiss, a haste, deep kiss.

It’s just you and him now. Skin to skin. Heat meeting heat. Your bodies fit together like they’ve already learned each other, like this isn’t new anymore—and maybe that’s what makes it more intimate. More dangerous. More… real.

Then Hyunjin moves, subtly moving his hips enough to rub his length against your wetness. Hands gripping each side your hips, keeping you still as his moves turning into pulsating motions. He loses himself in it for a moment. In the way you respond, in the way your hands braced on each side of his head, in the way you lowly moan into his mouth.

This alone feels so much to him and he doesn’t want to stop. If he could, he would stop the time and stays in this—

But then, you break the kiss with a gasp and shift, dropping to his side. Eyes dazed and a little unfocused as you mutter, “We should start.”

Right. It’s a test. He stops for a second, trying to redirect his focus to the main reason why the two of you are here in the first place. “Yep, I’ll get on it,” he says.

Hyunjin exhales, dragging a hand through his hair before sitting up and reaching to the bedside table. The product sits there, waiting. Unopened.

You settle back into the bed after removing your underwear and then watch him with a small, knowing smile tugging at your lips. “You must be excited for this.”

He glances at you, already tearing into the packaging. “Very.”

You softly giggle under your breath. “Do you even know how to put it on?”

He flips the box over, reading the instructions with exaggerated seriousness, brows slightly furrowed like he’s studying for an exam. “Tucks the two little wings under the labia—"

“Give me that,” you cut in with a light laugh, taking it from his hands before he can overthink it.

He allows himself to watch you for a moment, the ease in your gestures, the quiet confidence as you put the device on you. Then he busies himself too with the condom, practicing the same cautiousness as he puts the thin rubber down his length. He checks once more before rejoining you on the bed.

There’s a beat where you just… look at each other.

You’re the first one to break into a soft laugh. “You did a good job,” you praise, eyes briefly glancing down at his length.

“We did a good job,” he corrects you with a smirk.

You laugh again and put a hand on his neck, bringing his head close. “Good job, you two,” you playfully mutter before crashing your lips against him.

Soon, it’s your bodies tangling in heat again, slithering against the bedsheets, limbs around each other. When he finally pulls back just enough, your legs part instinctively for him, welcoming, and something sparks within him from the silent invitation.

He glances down at your wetness, glistening and tantalizing him the longer he looks. He uses his fingers next, brushing over the device still attached to you, right on the clit with the little wings tucked under the labia per instructions said on the manual sheets. There’s a small, discreet button there and he presses on it.

You gasp softly as the device starts to vibrate, the sudden sensation catching you off guard

“Just testing,” he cheekily says with a crooked grin.

“Well, it works just fine,” you say, already pulling him back into a kiss, like you’re trying to distract him from his own mischief.

As your lips move together again, he finally gives in to the pull between you. He uses his fingers first, two digits barely pumping, just enough to draw more essence out of you. He lets the moment stretch, letting you melt into his touch before finally shifting.

Without looking and relying more on instinct, Hyunjin aligns himself with your entrance. He pushes just barely yet you gasp against his mouth as the blunt head of his cock pressing into you. It’s not the first, but each time, it feels like it. He still finds himself overwhelmed by the feeling of being inside you.

He takes his time despite the urge to feel you all at once. He knows better to not force you, to treat you gentle. With utmost care and patience. He eases into you little by little, hands braced on each side of you, lips continuously placing kisses on your skin if not on your lips.

He notices the way you glance down to where your bodies joined, how most of his length has disappearing into you, wrapped tightly in your velvety walls and sigh, a breathless, arousing sigh.

Out of instinct, your legs parting wider like an unspoken permission to enter you further and he takes it. He allows himself to move forward, pushing the remaining length into you until he’s fully sheathed in that delicious tightness. Until he feels the device pressing against him and the buzzing sensation it offers. He gets it then, the purpose of the product. How it offers the same sensation to both of you, at the same time.

Hyunjin lingers there for a second, letting the closeness settle, letting you adjust, letting himself feel the warmth, the connection, the faint hum of the product caught between you.

“Oh,” he breathes against your lips, a grin tugging through it. “Yeah… I feel it now.”

You smile an almost shy smile, but it barely lasts before he’s kissing you again, deeper this time, his body beginning to move with slow, steady intent.

Your back arches beneath him, instinctive, giving him more depth, allowing him to launch deeper into you, and he takes it easily, like his body already knows how to find that rhythm with yours.

The room fills with the soft sounds. Warm breaths. The quiet, building tension that wraps around both of you and pulls tighter with every movement. He loses track of time of everything.

Until the rhythm breaks. Something off. He stills, frowning slightly as the device slips out of place, disrupting the moment in the smallest but most irritating way.

“Wait,” he mutters.

He adjusts it, making sure he puts it on properly and resume. He wills himself to forget that small inconvenient, not wanting to ruin this perfect moment. His hips moving in rolling movements now, like he’s swimming into the depth of ocean, the depth of you and the rhythm picks up, the tension climbs higher.

Then, the device slips again.

You slowly sit up on the bed, fixing it for both of you. You lay back down after and wrap your legs tighter around him, not letting anything to go wrong, to go out of place. You hastily kiss him as if you try to erase the seconds of interruption off his memory. In a way, it does.

“You can move now,” you mutter against his lips.

Hyunjin doesn’t want to waste time by lingering on it. He moves, thrusting into you carefully now. Not too slow. Not too fast either. He realizes that his purpose slightly shifting from pleasing you, to testing, to making sure that the device stays where it is.

But on the third time it slips again, you both can’t ignore the interruption. The frustration. He exhales sharply, pushing himself up slightly, trying to fix it again but it doesn’t stay, doesn’t cooperate, doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to.

And just like that, the moment breaks. You both pause, breathing uneven, the heat still there but tangled now with annoyance and disappointment.

Hyunjin stills completely, then slowly pulls back, the space between you returning inch by inch.

You look at him, a little apologetic. “I can’t— it’s not… I don’t think we can continue.”

“Yeah,” he says with a small nod.

“I’m sorry,” you meekly mutter with a gentle hand on his arm.

“Hey, it’s not you,” he cuts in with a soft smile, shaking his head. “It’s the product.”

He lets out a quiet huff of a laugh, running a hand over his face. “Wow, that’s—” he can’t even find the word to say, but know that he doesn’t want to ruin it further. And yet—

“What a letdown,” he says with a humorless laugh.

Silence settles after that. The kind that doesn’t quite know where to go next.

Hyunjin looks at you and for the first time that night, he realizes he didn’t plan for this part where it doesn’t go as he imagined it in his head. The part where the night turns into a big disappointment. And he has no idea what comes after.

-

The bathroom light feels too bright as Hyunjin stands there for a second too long, palms braced against the sink, staring at his own reflection. His hair’s a mess, his lips still a little flushed, his breathing not quite steady yet and yet the room behind him feels… empty. Like something got cut off halfway through, like a song that never reached its chorus.

So that’s how it ends?

The final test. The last night. The one he kept building up in his head like it was supposed to mean something bigger, something more —and it fizzles out because of a faulty product.

He lets himself feel it for a second. The disappointment. The irritation. The quiet, stubborn frustration that it didn’t go the way he imagined. That it didn’t feel the way he wanted it to. Then he exhales again, straighter this time, like he’s forcing himself to let it go.

It’s just a test. Right?

Still, he lingers for one more second, eyes flicking up to his reflection again, like he’s trying to catch whatever thought keeps slipping just out of reach. Then he pushes off the sink and heads out.

His feet halt to a stop, hand lingers on the knob of the bathroom door when he finds you still there, sitting at the edge of the bed with his shirt draped over your frame, fingers working through the buttons like you’re in no rush at all.

This is rare. You usually leave the second the test ended. Like staying longer than necessary would complicate something neither of you wants to address, but not tonight.

You glance at him over your shoulder, still buttoning up, and say casually, “Since the test finished early—”

You pause to huff out a laugh. “No pun intended.”

His lips twitch despite himself and finally let go of the door knob, body turning fully facing you now.

You don’t look embarrassed. If anything, you look… lighter. Like the awkward ending didn’t stick to you the way it did to him. “I was thinking,” you continue, finishing the last button, “we could just… continue the movie?”

It’s just a suggestion but to Hyunjin, it feels like a second chance. A second chance that falls right onto his lap.

You fold a leg under you as you shift and casually say, “Well, I think we should just watch the movie from the start.”

“Yeah,” he says quickly—too quickly. Then clears his throat, trying to smooth it out. “Yeah, we can— I’ll set the projector again.”

You nod at that, already pushing yourself off the bed. “I’ll get the snacks.”

And just like that, you’re heading for the door.

Hyunjin watches you go, the faint sound of your footsteps fading down the hall, and only when you’re out of sight does he let the smile fully settle on his face. Because tonight isn’t over yet and maybe it doesn’t have to end like that.

He falls into preparation right away. He sets the projector on the small shelf mounted to the wall behind the bed. He turns it on, aligning the screen on the blank wall. Once he’s done, he moves to smooth out the sheets, fluffs the pillows to make it cozy, comfortable. The room still holds traces of what happened earlier but he pushes past it, focusing on small, tangible things. By the time he’s done, the bed looks almost untouched.

He hears your footsteps before he sees you and when he turns, you’re already there in the doorway, balancing a bowl of sliced fruits in one arm, a bottle of wine and two glasses in the other.

“Careful—” he starts, already moving toward you.

You barely get a step in before he takes the bottle and the bowl from your hands, steadying the rest as he nudges the door shut behind you with his foot. You both climb onto the bed after that, settling into opposite sides like you’ve done this a hundred times.

You pop open the cork and pour the wine one glass at a time. The earthy, aphrodisiac smell of wine instantly filling the room. You hand the glass you have filled to him and then pour another for yourself.

Hyunjin puts the bowl on his lap, a brow raised in question as he looks into the sliced fruits inside. “Do you have better snacks?”

“These are healthy late-night snacks,” you simply reply. To end the argument, you pick up a grape and then shoves it into his mouth.

For a second, he just looks at you in disbelief. Then he bites on the grape and chewing on it, smiling as the sweetness flooding his mouth.

You put the bottle of wine away then lift your glass slightly, a small tilt of your head. “To romantic night part two?”

He lifts his glass and smiles as he repeats the words, “To romantic night part two.”

The glasses clink quietly and almost at the same time, you both take a sip, exchanging a warm gaze after. Hyunjin almost forgot about it. He quickly reaches for the remote and then presses play.

This time, you both actually watch as the movie flickers across the wall, soft light dancing over your faces as you settle deeper into the pillows. It’s surprisingly easy how the conversation flows between scenes, between sips of wine and bites of fruit. You comment on the characters. He disagrees, dramatically. You shove a slice of fruit into his mouth mid-argument just to shut him up. He laughs around it.

At one point, you glance at him, eyes narrowing slightly like you’re studying something. “You must’ve taken a lot of girls to do this.”

“What?” he asks while refilling his wine.

“This,” you gesture vaguely toward the movie, the wine, the setup. “Watching romantic movies. Dates like this.”

Hyunjin scrunches his nose immediately. “Nah.”

You look at him like you don’t believe a word of it.

So he adds, quieter this time, “It’s my first time, actually.”

Your brows lift. “With a girl?” you joke.

He huffs a small laugh. “First time watching a movie with a girl and actually paying attention.”

That earns a snort from you. “Wow, lucky me,” you flatly mutter.

He grins, but it fades quicker than usual. Because the room goes quiet after that. Not uncomfortable. Just full, content.

You shift, sinking deeper into your pillow, eyes fixed on the screen for a moment before you speak again. “Since you know all about my dating history…” you start, voice lighter than the words that follow, “what about you?”

He already knows where this is going and usually, he’d quickly shift the conversation to something else. Yet, he doesn’t do it. Instead, he lets you.

“When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

He doesn’t hesitate, but he doesn’t really answer either. “A long time ago.”

It’s vague. Intentionally so. And you understand right away that he’s reluctant to share more than that. Your eyes narrow slightly, a teasing edge returning. “She must’ve done a number on you, huh?”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t look at you. Just takes a sip of his wine instead.

You don’t push like the good person you are. But you sigh, slumping lower on your pillow, and when you speak again, your voice is quieter. “I get it, though,” you murmur, eyes still on the screen but they’re distant. “Some experiences just… mess with you.”

Hyunjin looks at you then. But you don’t look at him.

“It makes you question everything,” you continue, almost to yourself. “Like… if you’re just not someone worth staying for.”

His chest tightens at that. Like you’re hearing the voices that haunt him whenever emotional feelings show up.

“Or if it’s too much to ask,” you add, voice dipping just slightly, “to be loved properly.”

There’s a long pause. You sink further into the pillow, letting out a small, humorless laugh. “Sometimes I wonder if I even allowed to want love at all.”

Hyunjin’s mouth is open but nothing comes out of it. Because for once, he doesn’t have anything clever to say, to tease you or to at least, lighten up the moment. Just the weight of your words, hanging there between you, heavier than anything that happened earlier tonight.

He can’t focus on the rest of the movie after that and when he finally turns his head again, you’re curled slightly into yourself, sleeping soundly like none of it ever left your lips in the first place.

Hyunjin watches you for longer than he means to, soft and peaceful, untouched by the things you just said, and something shifts in his chest again, something heavy and unsettling. He can’t help the thought that creeps in.

Do I even deserve this? Do I have anything real to give you?

He exhales slowly, like he’s trying to push the thought away. He doesn’t let himself linger on it and reaches for the duvet, pulling it gently up to your chest. His fingers brush your hair back from your face, almost reverent.

God. You’re beautiful like this. Too beautiful. Too easy to want something more with.

He knows he shouldn’t. He knows this ends soon. But still, if there’s one thing he wants to do for the last time, it’s this. He leans in and then innocently, softly presses his lips against yours, a quiet, fleeting kiss that doesn’t ask for anything in return.

When he pulls back, he lingers close for a second, eyes tracing your features like he’s trying to memorize them. “Goodnight,” he whispers.

He reaches for the remote, turns the movie off and the room suddenly falls into darkness, lit only by the faint glow from outside.

Hyunjin settles back beside you, the space between you smaller than before and as sleep finally pulls him under, it’s your face that follows him there.

-

Hyunjin slowly opens his eyes, the ceiling coming into focus as his body stirs, still heavy with sleep. For a second, he doesn’t move, just lies there, listening and realizes that there’s no soft breathing beside him. No warmth pressed into his side.

He turns his head and your side of the bed is already empty. It doesn’t surprise him anymore, he’s gotten used to it—but still, something in him pauses there for a second, eyes lingering on the faint crease your body left behind.

Then, slowly, a smile pulls at his lips as he recalls last night. The picnic, the rain, the way you both scrambled to get back inside and that darn product. The way you two continued to part two. The movie, the wine, the way you fell asleep mid-thought like the weight of everything finally let you rest.

He exhales softly through his nose, pushing himself up and he immediately spots the shirt you wore last night, draped carelessly over the chair, exactly where you must’ve left it. He reaches for it without thinking, fingers brushing over the fabric before he lifts it, bringing it close to his nose. He smiles because it smells like you now.

He puts the shirt back on the chair, doing it carefully like the scent of you would vanish if he drops it. Then heads to the bathroom after that.

He washes up, brushing his teeth, splashing water over his face until the last traces of sleep are gone. He changes into something more comfortable, running a hand through his hair one last time before he steps out.

He enters the kitchen and walks straight into you. Well—not literally. But close. You’re sitting at the dining table, a laptop open in front of you. A plate of breakfast in one hand, fork in the other, like you’ve been up for hours.

You notice him immediately and smile. “Morning.”

The gesture is simple and sweet. He lets himself savor it before returning it. “Morning.”

Hyunjin moves like he belongs there—because at this point, he kind of does. He grabs his cereal, takes the milk from your fridge without asking, pouring the two into a bowl. He brings it to the table, sits across from you.

For a while, there’s nothing but comfortable quiet. He continues eating but his eyes are glancing at you once in a while, catching you enjoying your avocado toast while reading something on your laptop. This version of you is also soft, but last night, you were much softer.

“You fell asleep last night,” he teases between spoonful of cereal.

You don’t even look embarrassed. You just nod, taking another bite before answering, “I was really sleepy.”

He hums, thinking that’s it. But then you add, almost absentmindedly. “Probably the best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

Something in the way you say it pulls tight in his chest. He doesn’t react but shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, chewing a little slower than before. “Mm.”

Another moment later, you finish with your toast and now nursing a mug of coffee. Then you turn slightly toward him.

“Are you ready to give your feedback?”

Ah. Right. The evaluation form. Hyunjin exhales through his nose, then picks up his bowl and drinks the milk straight from it before setting it down with a quiet clink. “Yeah.”

He scoots his chair closer until he’s right beside you, shoulder almost brushing yours. The setting is intentional, allowing him to see your laptop screen and noticing that the evaluation form is already open. Of course it is. You’re always prepared.

“Okay, comfort rating?” you ask.

He doesn’t expect you to go right into it. He leans back and thinks for a second. “Five.”

You nod, typing it in. Then add your own. Four.

His head snaps toward you. “Change mine to four too.”

You shoot him a look. “It’s not a competition.”

He glares right back. “We’re a team. We should have matching answers.”

You sigh—but there’s no real annoyance behind it. Still, you obey and change his answer into four. “Stimulation rating?”

“Six,” he says, this time without hesitation. “It has potentials.”

You nod, typing. You write the same number for your answer. “Describe your experience while using the product,” you prompt.

He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “It is promising. The concept’s good. But it doesn’t stay in place. Keeps slipping off during use.”

You hum in agreement, typing it all down. Then adding your own touch.

He notices the way you refine things, polish them and make it sound better than it came out of his mouth.

“Additional feedback?”

“Adjustable wing size. More vibration levels too.”

You type. Then add your own after. Great material but the design needs further improvement.

Hyunjin nods, approving.

“Final comment?”

He takes a second before answering this one. “The intention is good. There aren’t many good couple vibrators in the market. But this one needs a lot of improvement.”

You glance at him, then nod, fingers moving again. “Give me a second,” you murmur, already editing, refining, making it seamless.

He watches you, clicking his tongue softly. “You’re scary good at this.”

You flash him a quick, smug smile. “I know,” you confidently say.

A moment later, you turn the laptop toward him, letting him take a good look at it before submitting it.

Honestly, he barely scans it because he knows that you’re good at this, better even so he gives you two thumbs-up. “Approved.”

You smile faintly, turning the laptop back to you.

It hits him then. This is it. One click. And it’s done. He leans back slightly, exhaling through his nose, watching as your finger hovers over the trackpad.

All of a sudden, you stop and turn the laptop toward him again. “You do it.”

“What?” he asks, puzzled.

“I’m letting you do the honor,” you say, making a dramatic gesture toward the laptop.

He huffs a laugh and stares at the screen, at the looming end. And to be honest, he’s not ready for this to be over. Not for everything to just… go back to normal.

Beside him, you look fine and calm. Like this is just another task on your list. And maybe, to you, it is.

Hyunjin swallows. Then, because he’s him, he lifts his hand dramatically, blowing on his fingers like he’s about to perform surgery. “Blow on them for good luck,” he says.

You stare at him for a second and burst into laughter. But you lean in anyway, softly blowing over his fingers.

And just like that, he clicks on the button and a small notification pops up. Submission successful.

Something in his chest just… caves. And then drops. He leans back in his chair, quietly processing what he’s just done.

You close the laptop with a soft sigh and push it aside. “Such a shame the last product was a disappointment.”

He nods, but it’s not what’s bothering him. Not really. Before he can think too much about it, your hand reaches for his.

You squeeze gently, smiling at him. “Hey, we did well.”

And just like that, he lights up again. He squeezes your hand back and says, “Yeah. We did.”

He lifts your joined hands slightly, confidence slipping back into his voice. “And we’re going to win that free vacation.”

You chuckle and give the smallest nod at that. “Yeah… free vacation.”

But the way you say it makes him realize how distant you already seem to him.

-

Hyunjin doesn’t expect anything when he drops into his chair after returning from a meeting. Just know that he has to finish his design soon but first, he checks his emails. There, a notification sitting neatly at the top of his inbox.

Test Program - Transfer Fund Receipt.

Hyunjin clicks it open, eyes scanning the details and then his brows lift at the sum of money he received from the test program. The number is… generous. A slow grin spreads across his face, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he leans back in his chair. His mind jumps to you immediately because you must’ve gotten yours too.

The thought comes easy, but the decision— the decision comes easier. He’s already pushing his chair back before he can question it—already on his feet, already heading out of his office.

It’s just to confirm, just to ask whether you have received the money and nothing more. Not that he wants to see you or anything. Or that annoyed expression on your face that he grew fond of. No, not really that. And yet, the balls of his feet won’t stop bouncing as he rides the elevator down to your floor.

The elevator doors slide open and he’s about to turn toward your office when he spots you in the pantry. His feet pivot the other way, walking up to you as you’re standing by the coffee machine, phone in hand, brows slightly drawn together like whatever you’re reading matters more than anything else around you. Including the coffee that’s already done.

Hyunjin watches for a second, sighing when you don’t even notice him there standing next to you. He reaches past you without a word, pulling the cup out of the machine before it overflows or goes cold, placing it neatly on the counter in front of you.

That’s when you finally look up and there it is — that tired, faintly annoyed expression you always pull when you see him. That one thing he’s secretly missed of seeing.

“Thanks,” you simply say and then drag the cup toward you, phone shoved into the pocket of your blazer.

“You’re very welcome,” he replies with a bright grin, leaning against the counter facing you. “Got your compensation yet?” he asks casually.

“Yes,” you answer without looking at him.

Something about it makes his grin falter just a little, but he smooths it over quickly. “Pretty nice, right?”

“Yes,” you answer again, reaching for a sugar packet, tearing it open and dumping it into your coffee.

He watches you stir and the way you avoid looking at him. But still, he won’t back down just yet. “What are you going to do with it?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and teasingly add, “A whole carton of chia seed, perhaps?”

You snort softly but you answer seriously. “I’m thinking of getting a bigger bookshelf.”

Hyunjin immediately blows a raspberry and gives you a thumb-down. “Bo-ring!”

“It’s my money. I can do what I want with it,” you calmly say but the glare you give him as you reach a pack of creamer is sharp and cutting.

He scoots closer and loosely crosses his arms in front of him. “I have a better idea,” he says in a whispered tone, conspiratory.

“Not interested,” you flatly say.

He clicks his tongue at you. “At least, hear me out first.”

You don’t say anything but grab a spoon to stir your coffee with.

He leans in just slightly and still in whispered tone, he says, “Why don’t we spend it together? On a fancy dinner? You know, celebrate our…” he trails off for a second to find the right word to say. “…success.”

You scoff and finally turn your head his way. “You mean… splitting the bill?”

He scoffs back and retorts, “No. It means celebrating our excellent teamwork.”

You shake your head immediately and flatly reject the suggestion. “No.”

“Fine,” he amends quickly. “My treat then.”

He notices the way you pause and your stirring slows just a little, seriously considering it like it’s a business deal instead of an invitation for a dinner.

He presses, softer this time. “I can get us a reservation at Farfalle.”

Your eyebrow perks up at the mention of the renowned Italian restaurant. “When?”

Hyunjin holds himself back from smiling yet. “This Friday.”

The lights in your eyes dim just a little and then you sigh. “No, I can’t.”

His brows knit together. “Why not?”

You take a sip of your coffee before answering, like you’re buying time. “I have something to attend Friday night.”

“Something?” he echoes, narrowing his eyes slightly. “What something?”

“Work-related.”

The answer is vague. Too vague. He leans in closer, grin creeping back, but there’s an edge to it now. “Or, you could take me with you,” he smoothly says.

You glance at him and he holds your gaze.

“We get to celebrate. None of us have to spend money on it,” he proudly says like that’s the issue here. “It’s a win-win.”

You shake your head. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s invitation only.”

He doesn’t miss a step. “I’ll be your plus-one then.”

That’s when you hesitate and he feels something tightening in his chest as he waits. He kind of already guessed the answer in his head, but needs you to say it.

“I’m the plus-one,” you finally answer.

Hyunjin’s grins falter for a second because his mind doesn’t even consider other possibilities. It goes straight to one name. Seungmin.

“Let’s have dinner some other time, yeah?” you say, taking your coffee and stepping past him like nothing just shifted.

Hyunjin nods, accepting it. “Yeah, sure. Just text me when.”

You move to leave and he tries so hard to not show how annoyed he is, but something pushes him to move. He reaches out, takes your cup from your hand and takes a long sip until half of it gone. He lets out an exaggerated gasp and then hands it back with a grin.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

You stare at him in disbelief but he doesn’t wait for a response.

He turns and starts walking like the decision makes itself before he can think it through. And, Gabe is right where he expects her to be. Head down, fingers flying across her keyboard, a phone wedged between her shoulder and ear.

Hyunjin walks straight over with determination. A plan. He doesn’t interrupt as Gabe talks into the phone and just waves his hand at her, letting her know that he’s here.

Gabe looks up, startled at first—then her face lights up almost instantly. “Oh—hey!” she lowly mutters, making a small wave of hand.

He patiently waits until she finishes talking and puts down the phone. Then a hand on her desk and put on a sweet smile like he didn’t just storm out of the pantry with something sour sitting in his chest. “Hey, you remember that lunch I owe you?” he asks.

Her brows lift, pleasantly surprised. “Of course I do.”

“Good,” he says, pushing off the desk. “I’m taking you now.”

The surprise on Gabe’s face settles into something brighter—excited, even—but before she can say anything, he’s already moving.

“Wait—now?” she asks, half-laughing as she glances around.

Hyunjin doesn’t give her time to process. He reaches behind her chair, grabs her jacket, and drapes it over her shoulders in one smooth motion before she can even stand.

“Hyunjin—” she starts laughing a little more now, flustered.

He picks up her purse next, handing it to her like it’s all already decided. “Let’s go.”

“I—hold on, I should tell—”

“The place is going to be packed. We go now or we don’t go at all,” he cuts in smoothly.

Gabe hesitates and her eyes flick instinctively toward your desk. She pushes her chair back slowly, half-standing. “I should at least let—”

Right on cue, you walk in with what he safely assumes a new cup of coffee since he’s drained half of what you made earlier.

Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate. He reaches for Gabe’s wrist and gently tugs her along as he closes the distance between him and you.

You barely have time to register what’s happening before he’s right there. “What is—”

“I’m taking your assistant for lunch,” he cuts in with a grin. Not exactly asking for permission.

Your eyes flick between him and Gabe, confused. “Right now?” you ask.

“Right now,” he confirms easily.

Gabe lets out a small, awkward laugh beside him. “I was just about to—”

But Hyunjin’s already moving again, turning and pulling her along. “Don’t wait up,” he tosses over his shoulder and keep dragging Gabe with him before you can say anything else. Before he can second-guess it.

-

Hyunjin and Gabe made it right on time before the restaurant gets flooded with people and orders alike. They secured a table near the window and the second they’re seated, Gabe is already losing her mind.

“Oh my god, I’ve been wanting to come here forever,” she gushes, practically bouncing in her seat as she flips through the menu with bright eyes, bright smile. “Do you know how hard it is to get a table here?”

Hyunjin only smiles, leaning back in his chair. “Order anything. It’s my treat.”

Her head snaps up, eyes wide. “Anything?”

He nods, amused. “Anything.”

And just like that, she’s completely absorbed in the euphoria. No suspicion. No second-guessing. Just pure, unfiltered excitement.

Good. That makes this easier.

When the food arrives, it’s… a lot. Stacks of fluffy pancakes, glossy with syrup and topped with sunny-side up egg with crispy bacons on the side. The other are on the dessert side — the pancakes basked in caramel, sliced mangoes on the side and whipped cream piled like clouds.

“Wait—don’t touch anything,” Gabe quickly says, already grabbing her phone.

Hyunjin snorts under his breath, watching as she leans over the table, angling her phone this way and that. Click. Click. Click.

“Here. Let me take the pictures for you,” he kindly offers.

“Yes, please!” she lights up.

He takes her phone, patiently snapping a few photos while she poses—smiling, tilting her head, adjusting her hair, holding a plate of pancakes with her hands.

“Let’s take one together!” Gabe excitedly suggests.

Hyunjin doesn’t argue. He leans in just enough as she holds the phone up, both of them fitting into the frame. He hands the phone back. “Are they good?” he asks, lifting his drink and have a sip with a straw.

“Very,” she grins, already scrolling through them.

“Let’s eat before they get cold,” Hyunjin says with a smile.

Gabe eagerly nods, picking up her fork and knife, hesitantly cuts through her pancake like she’s tearing through an artwork. She stabs a piece with her fork and eats it. From her delighted expression, he can tell she likes it.

Hyunjin picks up his fork as well and starts digging into his own and waits for the right moment to casual drop a question.

“How is it?”

Her face lights up instantly. “So good.”

“Yeah?”

She nods quickly, mouth full, then swallows just to say it again. “So good.”

“Worth the hype?”

“Absolutely.”

“Glad you like it.”

“Thank you for this. Seriously.”

He waves it off. “Don’t mention it.”

She does anyway, a few more times after that and he lets her enjoy it and only when she’s settled, that’s when he slips it in.

“So,” he says, cutting into his pancakes like it’s nothing. “I heard Miss Perfect Planner got something on Friday.”

Gabe nods immediately. “Yeah, probably the dinner.”

He keeps his expression neutral. “What dinner?”

She pauses mid-bite, like she just realized she’s about to explain something. Then shrugs. “You know—there’s this business magazine…”

And she’s off. There’s talking and explaining, a lot of rambling. Something about rankings, features, recognition—words that blur together because Hyunjin’s only half-listening. He nods where he should and hums when it sounds right. And waits until she comes to a point.

“There’s this list—30 young leaders. And guess who made it?”

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t have to.

“…Seungmin.”

There it is. Hyunjin presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek and continues to casually shoving food into his mouth.

Gabe keeps going, energized now. “Do you remember when she got called to the CMO’s office?” she asks.

He nods.

“Well,” she leans in slightly, lowering her voice like it’s gossip, “I checked her schedule after that.”

Of course she did.

“And she had dinner blocked off for Friday.”

Hyunjin keeps his eyes on his plate. “Okay.”

“So I’m pretty sure—like, pretty sure—she’s going to the gala dinner.”

Oof, he missed something in her ramble. He finally looks up and asks, “What gala dinner?”

Gabe pauses chewing, then quickly swallows. “The one for the 30 young leaders thing. They’re hosting this big event to celebrate them or something.”

Hyunjin doesn’t respond right away but chewing on the pancake that tastes like Styrofoam now. He washes it down with water. “So you’re saying that Seungmin is taking her to that event?”

Gabe doesn’t confirm right away but grabs her phone. She types something quickly, then turns the screen toward him. “Here. Look!”

It’s an Instagram post for the upcoming event held by the business magazine. Annual Gala Dinner honoring the Top 30 Young Leaders.

The date and time match perfectly. Hyunjin stares at it for a second longer than necessary. Then nods once. “Yeah.”

Gabe pulls her phone back, completely unaware. “See? I told you.”

She goes back to her food like nothing just happened, humming softly as she bites into a strip of bacon. Then, mid-chew, she glances at his plate. “Can I try yours?”

“Yes,” he answers too fast, too eager and doesn’t even realize it until he’s already pushing the plate toward her.

She grins as she digs into his food. “Thanks!”

Hyunjin leans back in his chair, hands resting idly in his lap. He doesn’t touch his fork again.

Doesn’t even look at the food. Because suddenly, he’s not hungry anymore.

-

Hyunjin knows he shouldn’t be doing this. He knows it the moment his fingers tighten around the steering wheel, the moment he ignores the turn that would take him anywhere else—anywhere that isn’t you. It’s not his place. It’s not his business. But it feels like it is.

So he drives and the city blurs past him in streaks of color and light, but he barely registers any of it. His mind is somewhere else—already at your house, already replaying the image of you in his head, already building excuses before you can even ask.

I’m just here to collect my things.

It’s simple and harmless. He repeats it in his head often enough that he almost believes it. By the time he turns onto your street, something in his chest loosens. He gets that same familiar sense of relief, like he’s pulled into a place that knows him, that lets him in without question. Like home.

Hyunjin exhales slowly as he parks, fingers tapping once against the steering wheel before he kills the engine. He lingers there, dragging it out, slowing time down in the only way he knows how.

When he finally steps out, the evening air greets him softly, carrying a faint scent of the last of spring days. He shuts the door with a quiet click and walks up to your place with an ease that feels practiced.

The spare key opens the back door without much problem and he lets himself in. The house is exactly the same—and not. He slowly moves through the hallway, footsteps muted against the floor. His gaze drifts instinctively to the guest bedroom as he passes, the door slightly ajar. He pauses just long enough to glance inside. There’s a faint, clean scent in the air of fabric softener and he guesses that you must have changed the sheets. The room already feels like his and that realization sits strangely in his chest. He swallows and keeps moving.

The kitchen is empty when he reaches it, the silence settling around him in a way that makes everything feel suspended. He leans a hand against the counter, glancing around like he expects you to just appear.

You’re probably upstairs. Getting ready. For whatever’s waiting for you tonight. His jaw tightens slightly at the thought, but before he can go any further down that line, he catches movement in his peripheral.

He looks up and for a second, Hyunjin forgets how to breathe, how to think. You stand at the top of the stairs, framed by the soft light behind you, and it hits him all at once how the dress clings to you in all the right ways, how the cut traces your shape like it was made for you, how the color pulls something out of you that makes it impossible to look away. Your hair is swept up, neat and elegant, with a few loose strands softening everything. You look—

He almost moves without thinking, almost walks right up to you, hand already half-lifted in his mind, already imagining the way you’d place yours in it, the way he could just… take you and keep you, have you selfishly for himself tonight.

By the time the thought finishes, you reach the bottom step and reality snaps back into place. You jerk slightly when you see him, surprise flashing across your face before you let out a small, disbelieving laugh.

“God! Hyunjin!” you shriek and shake your head, recovering quickly, “you could’ve told me you were coming.”

Hyunjin forces himself to breathe and just get it together. “I—” his voice comes out tighter than he wants, almost mechanical, “I came to collect my things.”

It sounds flat. Even to him. But you trust the lie anyway, accepting it, moving past him toward the kitchen like it makes perfect sense. Your scent hits him, soft and intoxicating in a way that makes something in him lean closer without permission, makes him drawn to you.

By the time he realizes it, he’s standing behind you as you reach for a glass. He shifts quickly, leaning against the counter to ground himself, to make it look casual.

You step back, turning slightly as you pour water into the glass, and glance at him with a teasing look. “Afraid I’ve been eating your cereal, huh?”

He huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“I assure you that I have no interest in your cereal,” you state like it matters, like any of this is actually about the damn cereal.

He watches you take a sip. And then, before he can stop himself, he blurts out, “You look beautiful tonight.”

It comes out softer and honest. Too honest.

You lower the glass, a small smile touching your lips. “Thank you.”

It does something to him. Something dangerous. So he pushes forward, keeps it light, keeps it moving. “Where are you actually going?”

You don’t answer right away. You move toward the dining table instead, picking up your phone like it’s more interesting than the question. “To some… boring event.”

He lets out a faint scoff, but his gaze doesn’t soften. “You look a little too prepared for a boring event.”

“It’s the dress code,” you barely glance at him as you talk and type on your phone. Then, almost absentmindedly, you add, “It’s a gala dinner, after all.”

And there it is. The confirmation. His jaw tightens as he says his name. “With Seungmin?”

It slips out sharper than he intends and you freeze for a second. Then, he sees how you weren’t expecting him to know.

“Yeah,” you say eventually, like it’s nothing. Like it’s easy.

Something in him snaps into place. Hyunjin closes the distance in a few quick steps, stopping right in front of you, forcing you to look at him. “Are you… getting back together with him?”

You let out a quiet laugh, trying to brush it off. “It’s for work,” you say, not quite answering his question.

He doesn’t believe you and asks again. “Are you?”

This time, you hesitate. Your expression shifts, slipping into that reserved, guarded version of you. “It’s not your business.”

The words land hard. Hyunjin shakes his head, something restless, something frustrated building under his skin. “How can you just—let him back in? After everything?” his voice tightens, broken in places.

Your brows knit, confusion flashing across your face.

“He hurt you. He made you feel like you weren’t enough, like you didn’t deserve—”

The shocked, disbelief look on your face cuts him off like he’s crossed a line he wasn’t supposed to even see. Your hand presses against his chest, pushing him back just enough to put a safe space between you. Like you’re drawing a line and tells him to stay behind it.

“That’s enough,” you firmly say, leaving no room for anything else.

Your phone rings and the sound slices through everything. You answer it without looking away from him, your voice clipped as you talk but focused somewhere else.

He doesn’t need to hear the other end because he knows, he hears a car pulls up outside.

You hang up, shove your phone into your purse, and look at him. “Do what you came here to do and don’t even think of taking that spare key with you,” you warn and then turn, heading for the door.

And Hyunjin—

He could stop here. He should. He’s never had any problem doing so — staying behind the line because it’s easier, uncomplicated, untouched by anything real. But tonight, he can’t.

He moves before he thinks. His hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you just before you reach the door. You turn, startled, and the next second you’re pressed back against the wall, his presence closing in around you.

“Don’t go.”

It’s not a suggestion. Not a tease or a witty remark. It’s something else entirely.

“Let go,” you say, but there’s something unsteady under it.

He doesn’t let go but closing the last inch of gap. “Please, don’t go.”

You open your mouth but he doesn’t let any word out. His lips crash into yours, urgent, desperate, like this is the only language he has left. The kiss is everything he’s been holding back, everything he shouldn’t be feeling, everything he doesn’t know how to say.

You fight it at first but eventually, your resistance softens and breaks. Your purse slips from your hand, hitting the floor with a dull sound he barely registers.

He kisses you through it all—your anger, your hesitation, the mess of it—and when your phone starts ringing again from inside your purse, he only pulls you closer, like he can drown it out, like he can keep you here if he just—

Then, the knocking comes and a voice, Seungmin’s voice, calling for your name.

Reality crashes back in and Hyunjin pulls back just enough to look at you, breath uneven, eyes searching yours. “Stay,” he says again, softer now, but somehow more desperate.

You don’t answer. You just stare into his eyes like you’re trying to see past everything he is, into something deeper.

He leans in, forehead resting against yours. His voice fragile now, fraying around the edges. “Stay.”

Another knock. Another call of your name, louder and urgent this time.

You shift and he senses that you’re about to slip away. Out of frustration, desperation — the words just come out of his mouth.

“I’d love you better.”

The words hang there, raw and hopeless.

“Better than he did.”

Something flickers across your face and he can’t tell what it is. Hope. Doubt. Fear. All of it. He can’t tell.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” you talk so low it’s almost like a whisper.

“I do,” he insists, voice breaking at the edges. “I know I would.”

You hold his gaze for a moment that stretches too long and he thinks— Maybe. Maybe you’ll stay.

But then your hands press against his chest, gently and that’s worse than anything. “I’m sorry.”

The apology is soft, almost merciful. And final. You step to the side and pick up your purse from the floor.

This time, he doesn’t stop you as you get the door and he stays there, listening as Seungmin’s voice greets you rather sweetly and asks if you’re ready. You don’t answer but grip your purse tighter and then steps out of the house.

The door closes yet Hyunjin stay there, standing and listening to your footsteps, to Seungmin’s voice, to the way your footsteps eventually fall into a shared rhythm as you walk away from him. Each step quieter than the last until there’s nothing but silence.

And the sound of his heart breaking.

-

Hyunjin doesn’t remember the drive home. Not the traffic lights, not the turns, not the way the city folds into itself at night. It’s all blank like his body moved on instinct while his mind stayed behind, stuck in your hallway, stuck on your voice, your eyes, that quiet I’m sorry that keeps echoing like it refuses to fade.

His apartment greets him in silence and he doesn’t bother with the lights. The door shuts behind him with a dull click, and for a moment, he just stands there like he’s waiting for something to catch up to him.

It does. All at once. He exhales sharply and moves, shrugging off his jacket, tossing his keys somewhere he won’t remember later. His steps are restless, carrying him straight to the kitchen like there’s only one place he knows how to go.

The cabinet door swings and he takes whatever’s closest. A bottle of whiskey he plans to have for special occasion. It’s not a special occasion but the situation calls for a hard liquor like this. The cap twists off with a rough jerk, and he brings it straight to his lips, no glass, not even a small sip but a long, burning swallow that hits his throat like punishment.

Good. He wants it to hurt. He moves to the couch, dropping onto it with a heavy exhale, one hand dragging over his face before reaching blindly for his headphones. They slip over his ears, and he turns the volume all the way up to drown out everything. Or at least, that’s the plan.

It doesn’t work because his mind is louder. It cuts through the music, through the noise, through everything. He sees it again in the back of his head. You—standing there, framed in the doorway, your eyes searching his like you were trying to find something real in him.

Stay.

The way your lips parted. The way you almost. Almost did.

“I’d love you better.”

His own voice, raw and exposed. God!

Hyunjin lets out a short, humorless laugh, the sound swallowed by the music blasting in his ears. He tilts his head back against the couch, bringing the bottle up again and taking another long drink. It burns worse this time. Or maybe he just feels it more. Because it doesn’t matter how many times he replays the moment, it always ends the same.

Your gentle hands on his chest, pushing him away. “I’m sorry.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, jaw tightening as the memory hits again like it just happened seconds ago instead of hours ago. He exhales shakily, dragging a hand through his hair.

Why did he think—

Why did he actually think—

That you’d choose him?

A bitter laugh slips out, harsher this time, cutting through his chest. He brings the bottle to his lips again, swallowing hard, chasing something that won’t come but it just settles in his chest, heavy and weighing him down.

Because the truth is for a second… For one stupid, reckless second, he believed it. Believed that you’d stay. Believed that what was between you was enough to pull you back, to make you choose him over everything else, over Seungmin. The name alone feels like acid that burns his tongue.

Hyunjin lets out another quiet, broken laugh, shaking his head as he stares at nothing. “I’d love you better,” he mutters under his breath, repeating it like it’s something foreign now, something ridiculous.

Who is he kidding?

He takes another drink and this time, he doesn’t even flinch at the burn. Just lets it drag down his throat, lets it sit heavy in his stomach, lets it do nothing at all. Because no matter how loud the music is, no matter how much he drinks, no matter how many times he tries to replay it, the pain doesn’t dull. It stays exactly the same.

And the worst part? He still sees the way you looked at him. Like you almost believed him. Like you wanted to. That’s what’s going to ruin him. Not the rejection. Not even the way you walked away. But that one fragile, fleeting moment where it felt like you might not.

His grip tightens around the bottle and for the first time since he walked in, he doesn’t take another drink. He just sits there, listening to the music he can’t hear and thinking about you anyway.

-

Hyunjin wakes with a headache, the kind that pulses quietly but insistently, like a reminder of everything he tried to drown the night before. For a moment, he just lies there, staring at the ceiling, letting the light seep in through the curtains.

He lets out a long exhale and makes a decision — he’s not going to think about it. About last night—what he said, what you said, the way it ended—he tucks it away somewhere out of reach, like shoving a mess into a drawer and forcing it shut.

Out of sight. Out of mind. Yeah, that’s the plan.

He gets up and lets the routine takes over. First is the bathroom, a few splashes of cold water to his face, brush his teeth, then slip into something comfortable. The kitchen is next. Breakfast is cereal and milk. Same as always. He moves in autopilot and that’s okay. If he just keeps moving, he won’t have to stop and feel anything.

He sits, takes a bite and slows. The spoon lingers in the milk, circling lazily. Because, of course, this reminds him of you. The way you looked at him across the dining table, watching him eating his cereal like he’s doing something fundamentally wrong just by existing.

“That milk and cereal ratio is insane.”

“Do you even taste the cereal at that point?”

Or worse—

“You know that’s basically sugar and food coloring, right?”

He lets out a small breath through his nose, something almost like a laugh but not quite. He’s barely started his day and he’s already failed on following the plan.

How is he supposed to do this? How is he supposed to walk into work and act like nothing happened—like he didn’t stand in your house and ask you to stay, like you didn’t look at him like that, like he didn’t—

He exhales sharply and drops the spoon into the bowl with a soft clink. He leans back in his chair and he knows he said he wouldn’t think about it. So why is it the only thing sitting at the front of his mind?

He sighs and forces himself to move again, deciding that his phone will be the ultimate distraction. He picks it up, thumb scrolling through notifications that piled up overnight because he was busy drowning his sorrow with alcohol and then hunched over the toilet bowl at the end of the night until there was nothing left to throw up.

He winces when he recalls his bad decision. “Yeah, great night,” he mutters to himself.

He scoffs when he opens his emails because apparently, some people have the nerves to send work emails on the weekends. He flicks past them and his thumb pauses when he notices the familiar pharmacy company email address.

His chest tightens instinctively and for a second, his mind jumps to irrational fears. Did they find something wrong? Did he mess up the submission? Are they asking for the compensation back?

He knows it’s ridiculous, but his heart still picks up as he taps the email open. This time, he promises himself that he won’t skip anything but reads everything, line by line.

Congratulations!

It’s literally the first word in the email but his mind jumps somewhere else entirely— somewhere tropical with lots of sunlight, ocean, exotic cocktails and far away from everything that feels heavy right now. He reads the rest and it confirms everything as they attached the details and instructions on how to claim the prize.

Hyunjin won the free vacation. He won. The free vacation. For a moment, he just sits there, phone in hand, the quiet stretching around him as it sinks in.

A grin slowly blooms on his face, small and disbelieving at first. Then wider and wider until it turns into a full, triumphant grin.

His fingers move before he can stop them, opening your chat because, of course, that’s the first thing he does. Because who else would he tell? Who else would understand what this means—what it took, everything the two of you did to get here?

His thumbs hover over the screen and then stop, his grin falters and fades. Because reality catches up. Because last night exists, whether he wants to ignore it or not. Because you— You’re not his person to share things with anymore. If you ever were.

Hyunjin stares at the screen for a long second, something tight pulling in his chest. He hates it. Hates that the first instinct—the only instinct—is you. Happy, sad, frustrated, drunk—it always comes back to you.

He lets out a quiet breath and locks his phone, setting it down like it suddenly weighs too much. You probably got the email too. Right? Maybe you’re already reading it. Maybe you’re smiling about it. Maybe you’re—

He cuts the thought off. No. He’s not doing that. He shouldn’t care if you claim it, or deciding to go. He shouldn’t care about any of it. He picks up his coffee instead, taking a slow sip, letting the bitterness settle on his tongue.

This is a win and it’s supposed to feel like one.

But sitting here now, in the quiet of his apartment, with your absence louder than anything—

It doesn’t feel like a win.

It feels like an escape.

-

Hyunjin earned this. He deserved this. That’s what he’s been telling himself as he packed his things and the whole taxi ride to the airport. More than that, he needs a few days away from everything that’s been sitting too heavy on his chest.

He repeats it in his head like a script as he steps onto the plane, boarding pass still in his hand, eyes scanning the cabin until he finds his row.

Wow. First class. He huffs a quiet breath through his nose, almost amused. The pharmacy company spoiled him too much.

He adjusts the strap of his backpack as he’s taking it in, then steps forward and settles in like he belongs there. Because he does. His bag goes into the overhead compartment then he drops into the seat, leaning back slightly, testing the comfort. It’s soft, spacious, too nice for how restless he still feels.

Then, his eyes flick to the empty seat beside him which he believes booked for you. Because it was supposed to be a couple trip. He looks away, not giving the chance for the thought to settle, doesn’t let it grow into anything bigger than it needs to be. Maybe it’ll stay empty the whole flight. Maybe no one booked it at all. Maybe—

He exhales quietly and shakes his head to himself. It doesn’t matter whether you’re coming or not. It’s not his business. Not anymore. He forces his focus elsewhere, adjusting the seat, loosening his shoulders, trying to sink into the moment instead of everything he’s been carrying.

A flight attendant approaches, offering him a selection of drinks and he settles on a glass of champagne. He takes it without hesitation. “Thanks.”

The glass is cool in his hand, the bubbles rising lazily to the surface. He stares at it for a second before taking a sip even though it feels a little too celebratory for how he actually feels.

Still, he drinks again. Because he’s supposed to celebrate it. For winning, for getting the one thing he wanted since the start of the test program and worked hard on it. He leans back further into the seat, exhaling slowly, letting his head rest as he brings his headphones up and slips them over his ears. The world dulls immediately, replaced by music. The kind of sound that doesn’t demand anything from him.

He closes his eyes for a moment, letting himself settle. He tells himself he’ll relax and that he’ll enjoy this. He doesn’t look at the seat beside him again, doesn’t think about who could be there. He doesn’t let his mind wander to what it would’ve been like—

No. He doesn’t.

Instead, he sinks deeper into the seat, exhales slowly, and get ready for take-off.

-

Product Evaluation Submission Participant Product Testing Program Product Name: VIBE – Hands-free Couple Vibrator Product Code: VBH-0810 Participant 1 ID: P-260319 Participant 2 ID: P-260320 Date of Evaluation: Friday, April 17. 1. Rate Comfort (1–10) Participant 1: 4 Participant 2: 4 2. Rate Stimulation Intensity (1–10) Participant 1: 6 Participant 2: 6 3. Describe Your Experience Using the Product The product shows strong potential in concept and intention. The vibration is present and noticeable, offering a decent level of stimulation. However, during use, the device fails to remain securely in place, frequently slipping out of position. This significantly disrupts continuity and overall experience. While advertised as suitable for various body types, the fit does not adequately accommodate movement, leading to repeated interruptions. 4. Additional Feedback The material quality is good—soft, body-safe, and comfortable on contact. The design requires improvement, particularly in stability and fit. Adjustable wing sizes or a more adaptive structure may enhance usability. Additional vibration levels and customizable intensity settings would improve user satisfaction. Overall construction is promising, but functionality does not yet match the intended experience. 5. Are you satisfied with the product? (Rate 1-10) Participant 1: 4 Participant 2: 4 6. Would You Buy This Product? (Rate 1-10) Participant 1: 4 Participant 2: 4 7. Would You Recommend This Product To Others? (Rate 1-10) Participant 1: 3 Participant 2: 3 Final Comment The product has a compelling concept and fills a gap in the couple-oriented category. However, execution falls short due to design limitations that affect stability and consistency during use. With refinement—particularly in fit, adjustability, and performance—it has the potential to become a strong contender in its category. Submission Status: ✔ Successfully Submitted

✨ COCKY: FINAL CHAPTER is available on Patreon ✨

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[sunboki]

coworker seungmin! that, despite behaving as if he loathes your guts couldn’t be more head over heels.

it’s almost instinct to him, brushing off any compliments, acting irritated the moment another comes up to “interrupt” his work with a question. That facade doesn’t exclude you.

and yet, when presentations come around, he’s the first person to be glaring holes into the heads of anyone even whispering the moment that you start presenting.

seungmin has a subtle, almost secretive way of doing things. subtle when you take off work for a day and he notices it before any other, subtle when a junior employee writes your coffee order wrong that he corrects with a lifted brow and a wave of his hand.

subtle when at meetings and his eyes are only focused on you in front of him—magnetically drawn to the mindless manner in which you adjust you hair or brush off your clothing.

when you go on sick leave and an anonymous get-well-soon basket is placed on your front door after he had asked one of your work friends for you address.

that was, after using a ‘I’m delivering paperwork’ excuse.

cough syrup, lozenges, and bath scents for congestion litter the organized basket. a bit of hand lotion, a packet of easy-to-make soup broths.

and at the very bottom? a tiny note, scribbled in that quick yet concise handwriting you find yourself recognizing.

Don’t take too many vacation days off and don’t be an idiot about your health. It’s important.

below it, written even smaller,

get well soon.

- K.S.M

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[hyunjinights]

BLUE JEANS ft lee minho

🎧 ; "cause i'm a ride or die whether you fail or fly"

synopsis: the ways minho shows you that he's forever by your side is questionable, but what if you take pride in his sick ways? | featuring: serial killer!minho , boyfriend!minho , fem!reader , mentions of murder , minho is a psychopath , swearing , pet names , part three of the 'strawberries, cherries and an angels kiss in spring' series ──── not requested , wc 728

authors note: lee knows version!!! one of the ones i was most looking forward to writing so i hope you enjoy this. if you would like a specific member for the next part please let me know! please leave feedback as this motivates me to write more. liking and reblogging would be much appreciated!!

series masterlist!

join the taglist! wanna read more? click here...

you knew you should’ve been running for the hills as soon as you found out what he was. but your brain couldn’t comprehend that he was like that. and for some sick reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him. minho was your boyfriend of a few months, and you had fallen hard. there was something about him that was addictive, but now you know what he is, he might’ve been doing that on purpose so you wouldn’t leave him.

“y/n this doesn’t change who i am, i’m still me, this doesn’t change anything.” minho says, trying to convince you to stay with his back pressed against the door as he looked at you frantically with your bags in your hand.

“it changes everything, what the fuck are you talking about?” you furrow your brows, what possibly made this man the same man you thought you fell in love with? “i mean, was i the next victim? were you going to murder me next?”

his eyes widen slightly as he takes a step forward but stops at your flinch, “no baby, no. i would never hurt you! you have to believe me. i would never do anything to cause you any harm.” he speaks, surprisingly calm.

“how am i supposed to believe that after you’ve murdered people, minho?!” you exclaim, walking backwards as he takes a few steps towards you.

“please just don’t be afraid of me. and let me explain..” he begged, his eyebrows raised as he pleads through his eyes.

“explain? you’re trying to tell me you have a fucking reason that you killed these people?” you gasp through your words, tasting the saltiness of the tears falling to your lips.

“i know how ridiculous it sounds but yes. so please, hear me out.” he took a large step forward to hold your hand in his. “i did it for you- and before you talk please let me finish. i did it all for you, every single person. did you notice a pattern? every single person who i killed, was a bad person. they hurt you. they hurt my baby, and i couldn’t let them get away with that unfortunately. so… i got rid of them, one by one. first, your high school bully, once you told me about her i couldn’t sleep, thinking about what she did to you just hurt me so much that i couldn’t be there to help you.”

“min..” you breathe out, swallowing the saliva in your mouth out of nerves.

“wait. the girl that harassed you just because you were dating me, angered me so much because i knew you were the best thing that ever happened to me, and i didn’t need anyone getting in the way of us. your abusive ex, god, i’ve never felt adrenaline like it when it killed that fucker, he deserved that and nothing will change my mind about that. so there you go, i did it all to protect you baby.” he nods, looking at you with his big brown eyes.

you stare at him for a few minutes in silence, tears falling down your face. but your heart couldn’t help but clench at his words. he did it all for you. you were his girl. he was protecting you.

“you did all that for me?” you whispered, your hand tightening around his. a part of you was in disbelief that someone loved you that much that they would do all that for you, even though it was so wrong, you couldn’t help but feel a slight thrill. you knew how sick it was, and that you were just as sick as him if you felt like that, but you couldn’t help it.

“for you, baby.” he nods, stroking your hair whilst looking at you intently. “do you understand now? how much i love you?”

your heavy breathing was all you could hear for a few seconds before you muttered out a response, “yeah.”

“good.” minho smiles, “tell me you’re mine, baby. so i know how grateful you are.”

your eyes snapped to his at those words, those sick words. but you felt a tingle down your spine as you replied, “i’m so grateful, thank you. i’m always going to be yours, minho.” you whispered.

“good girl.” he smiled before bringing you into his embrace, “i’ll love you until the end of time.”

© 2026 hyunjinights

do not copy or translate my work.

[koiiq]

ㅤ## 𝐼'VE 𝐵ECOME 𝐴 (GIRL) 𝐷AD! ❜ ㅤㅤ⠻ ❀ ࿔ ۪

♱005──── Han jisung x gn! rea ( ☆♡︎ )

W☢RiNG 𓎟 nicknames, cursing , playful insults, spelling mistakes/typing quirks, incohesive pasing lowkey, one sex joke?(Richard=dick), contains hangul 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

ꉂ(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵ཾ)ReBlogz&&&Repliez make my heart, Beat! ✿

([Ignore timestamps and percentage!!])

(कोई 🎏) dropped EVERYTHING i could and made this as soon as I could omg RICHARD MY BABYYYYYYY UGHHH SO ENDEARING I LOVE HER :((

☘︎ @orimuraa @chrrific @lze325 @yxna-bliss @douqhnxtss @stvrriki @aaassshhhaaa @b4echo @lovecase @strayingawayy @emeraldgem22

Taglist open!

[emtinyracha]

⋆｡°✩ Meddling SKZOOs ✩°｡⋆

a/n: okay so this accidentally became the longest fic in the universe so far...but jisung's part 1 is finally here!! i really hope you guys enjoy this one because i've been so excited for this series. there's already so much depth in it, and i can't wait to explore more and add to the other series as well. as always PLS gimme your feedback, whether it's through reblogs, comments, my inbox, or my feedback form. it's always so appreciated. and as proven by some inbox posts earlier today, i ADORE yapping about this universe, so genuinely, send me whatever you've got! happy reading :)

Summary: You and Jisung were perfect for one another, and your relationship was even going well enough to adopt a SKZOO companion together. However, not everything is as perfect as it seems.

Pairing: han jisung x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Content/Warnings: SHOULD be a gn!reader but lmk if i messed that up, okay so this one is a TEENSY bit angsty (i'm sorry it had to happen), you will witness the joys and the downfalls of this relationship, also some lore gets dropped (mentions of the skzoo adoption process), also (SPOILER) hanquokka has an allergy, only partly proof read, let me know if i've missed anything!!

jisung masterlist | Meddling SKZOOs

Han Jisung was your perfect match. You knew that, even now, even months after your mutual split with him. No one could possibly fit you better. His chaos brightened your days; your calm brought him serenity. Your love was something magical, something people told stories about, but sometimes, love isn’t enough, not when seeing one another becomes a rarity.

It wasn’t always like that, though, and maybe that’s why it ended your story. At one point, it would’ve been a surprise to see one of you without the other. You were inseparable, attached at the hip. You always came as a pair, never one without the other. You two were happy.

No one batted an eye when you both decided to adopt a SKZOO together. You’d been dating for almost two years at that point, but marriage wasn’t quite an option for either of you yet. So, adopting a furry little companion seemed like the right step; you were already living together, after all.

You’d never heard of quokkas before, since Australia apparently likes to gatekeep them, but when you two stumbled upon the little guy’s paperwork at the SKZOO Family Placement Center, you knew he was the perfect option. 

You’d never forget the day you and Jisung got to meet him, how unsure his big, bright eyes were as the little quokka stared up at the two of you. He was smaller then, at least compared to his full size, which he reached a few months ago. He was so careful in the steps he took, in the way he’d approached the two of you.

You remember holding your hand out toward him, palm up, letting him make the decision. “Hi, little guy…” you’d nearly whispered, absolutely struck on the small SKZOO.

His eyes had widened the slightest bit at your gentle tone, and it had given him the confidence to place his furry little hand in your own. You’d never forget the warmth that filled your heart the first time you felt his hand in your own, like stepping into a warm house on a snowy day, a slow spread, but all encompassing. 

He’d taken a meek step forward, and you’d felt Jisung’s hand move to rest on your back. You could see out of the corner of your eye that he was as taken by the little quokka as you were. 

The quokka’s tiny, shy voice rang out, “Hello…” He had blinked up at you both, hand still gently resting on top of yours.

“I’m Y/N, and this is Jisung. If it’s alright with you, we’d like to give you a home,” you spoke softly to the young critter. He’d just met the minimum age to be adopted, so he was on the shy side compared to the others at the Placement Center. 

You’d watched as his eyes widened, hope running through them quickly before a flash of doubt ruined it. 

“Really?” he’d asked. 

“Yeah, buddy,” your boyfriend spoke up from your left. “We’d take such good care of you. We already adore you.” 

A smile overtook the quokka’s face, which looked much more natural than the shy frown he’d been wearing. The rest of that first meeting went about as perfectly as possible, even if the quokka did whine a bit when he’d realized he wouldn’t be going home with the two of you that day.

Still, when you returned to pick him up, along with the few necessities the Placement Center gave you, some snacks, a small bed, and a comfort item, that smile seemed like a permanent feature on his face. He was the happiest little guy; he always had been.

When you and Jisung had gotten him and gotten everything set up, the two of you sat on the floor and played with him for hours. You couldn’t help but notice how the little quokka, whom you two had yet to name at the time, acted so much like the man you loved. 

He was always so unsure of things at first, watching to see how you and Jisung did something before following in your footsteps. He always got the cutest look on his face when someone said something he wasn’t expecting, one almost exactly like Jisung makes in those same situations, where his eyes get wide, and his bottom lip juts out the tiniest bit, brows all the way up at his hairline. Then, there was how the little ate. He had the same adorable habit that Jisung has of stuffing his cheeks while he eats.

“Are we sure you didn’t birth him?” you’d whispered to Jisung while the little quokka ate some of his snack. “I mean, you two look just alike.”

“Yah!” He’d laughed at your joke. “Maybe that just means we should name him after me.” He’d puffed his chest up, making himself seem rather proud, tilting his head like he was royalty or some kind of hero.

You’d giggled, “Oh, yeah? I’m thinking Sungie.”

“Nah, I know... HanQuokka. He can have my last name. That way, we can all match once I finally make us permanent.” The look in his eyes was so genuine that there was no room for doubt. You’d known that he meant it, that he’d planned on proposing one day, making your love legally binding, but it had never happened. 

Life had gotten in the way. You suppose you should’ve expected such. You could only ask so much of someone who leads a life as demanding as that of an idol, after all. Still, you’d wanted it to be true. You’d wanted to marry him. Honestly, you still would, but that didn’t seem to be in the cards for the two of you.

⋆｡°✩ ───────────────── ✩°｡⋆

Jisung remembered that day, too, the day it had all ended. Tour had ended not two weeks prior, but he’d been spending most of his time in the studio with Chan and Changbin. It wasn’t something you’d ever really had a problem with before, so he didn’t put much thought into it. Maybe that was the problem. He didn’t think there would be an issue; he didn’t think it would hurt you, but he also didn’t think about what he was missing.

He was missing the happy cheers when you picked HanQuokka up from his SKZOO daycare. He was missing HanQuokka being braver, trying new things despite being a picky eater. He was missing the way HanQuokka would ask for him every single night, wondering why his Jisungie wasn’t around, even though he was home from tour. 

He supposed you eventually hit your boiling point, and he knows he deserved it. 

“I just don’t get why you can’t make even a little time to be here, Ji,” you’d huffed, arms crossed as you both stood on opposite sides of the living room. 

“You know I can’t just abandon my 3RACHA duties. We’re working on a new comeback-” 

“I’m not asking that of you!” You’d had to pause to take a breath, reminding yourself that you couldn’t wake the little quokka sleeping in the other room. “I would never ask that of you. I’m just saying that it wouldn’t kill you to leave early enough to be here for dinner just once, or at least early enough to tuck him in.”

“My loyalty is to the group. You know that,” he’d insisted. It was probably his second dumbest decision of the night, right behind showing up after midnight again. 

“And what about us, Jisung? What about me? Our relationship? The SKZOO we adopted together, who wonders where you are every single night? Where do we fall on that list of loyalties?” Your brows were pinched together, one hand resting on your hip while the other ran through your hair. He hated how perfectly he could still see it, the hurt in your eyes, the exact moment you decided to end things. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” you’d whispered, and his heart had shattered. To this day, he despises the fact that it took you saying those words for him to realize just how badly he’d been messing up. 

“Wha- Baby, no. Look, you’re right. I’ll be here more, for Hannie and for you-” 

“Just stop, Ji. This isn’t working anymore.” He can still see the frown on your face, the tears in your eyes that made it clear that ending things wasn’t easy for you either.

“We can make it work,” he’d pleaded. 

“No… I think this is best for us, for Hannie. We should end things now before we end up hating one another,” you murmured. It somehow broke his heart further. If you’d stayed with him, you’d end up hating him. That’s all he’d heard, so he let you go. He let you walk out because he’d rather die a slow and painful death than for you to be unhappy, let alone hate him.

Things had gone as one would expect from there. There had been more legalities regarding HanQuokka, now lovingly nicknamed Hannie, than he’d expected, but the Placement Center does do its best to ensure that each SKZOO is properly taken care of, which apparently extends to custody arrangements. You and Jisung now take turns having him throughout the week.

The little guy doesn’t really get it, but he’s happy that he still gets to see both you and Jisung. He certainly tells every detail of his previous week when you two switch, as well, or at least, that’s what he does when Jisung picks him up from you. He enjoys getting to go to the studio with Jisung sometimes now, and from what he’s told Jisung, he likes it when he gets to go to work with you, too. 

All things had been going as well as they could be in the months since the split. You and Jisung were unsurprisingly great at coparenting a talking quokka, and he’d seemed as happy as he always does, even if his ‘parents’ aren’t together anymore. 

Jisung swore he was doing fine without you, too. It definitely didn’t pull at his heartstrings to hear Hannie talk so warmly about you and the love you’ve always so easily shown. It definitely didn’t tear him apart inside to wave goodbye to you every weekend, knowing he won’t see you until the next Friday. He’s fine, totally fine.

What wasn’t fine was finding out Hannie has developed quite the shellfish allergy…the hard way.

⋆｡°✩ ───────────────── ✩°｡⋆

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[emtinyracha]

⋆｡°✩ Meddling SKZOOs ✩°｡⋆

a/n: hyune's series is finally here!!! i hope you all enjoy this one! there are a lot of directions in which this series can go, so please feel free to share your thoughts and opinions! i love hearing from you all! also feel free to just yap with me about this universe! whether it's asking questions, giving me your own headcanons, or just sharing a particular moment you liked, i'd love to hear it :) happy reading, and i hope you all love this one

Summary: Jiniret was amazing as a SKZOO companion, at least...most of the time. Sometimes, though, he had a tendency to just say things, no matter how they came out, and it makes Hyunjin want to pull out all of his hair, especially when it comes to an attractive restaurant patron.

Pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

Word Count: 1k

Content/Warnings: SHOULD be a gn!reader but lmk if i messed that up, mentions of reader being on a date (you aren't. it's a friend), person with them is only described as brunette (no other features mentioned and no mention of how reader looks), food mention, jiniret is unintentionally mean to dwaekki at one point, only partly proof read, let me know if i've missed anything!!

hyunjin masterlist | Meddling SKZOOs

Hyunjin adores his little ferret friend. Really, he does, but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to wanting to bang his head against a wall when the little guy gets mischievous. He’d known when he first adopted Jiniret, the tendencies he’d probably have. He is a ferret, after all, so he does like the stash things away. That was expected. 

Hyunjin couldn’t even begin to count the number of times he’d lost a paintbrush, just to find it hidden under the bed with about a thousand other little things. He couldn’t even keep pocket change anymore because Jiniret always takes it.

That part, he never really minded. He expected the stashing of things and the burrowing between the couch cushions. What he wasn’t prepared for was the way the little ferret would sometimes say exactly what he felt or thought. It doesn’t even really happen all that often. It’s more like it’s some kind of impulse that the little critter just can’t ignore.

The first time it happened, all Hyunjin could do was stare at the little guy in shock. His close friend Changbin had been over, along with his SKZOO, Dwaekki. Hyunjin had always loved the effect the pig-rabbit has on his best friend. It’s sweet, the way they match each other so perfectly, and anyone can see how Changbin started feeling more secure in himself after he adopted Dwaekki. Still, that just made Hyunjin all the more embarrassed when Jiniret spoke his mind that day.

Now, Dwaekki loved to eat; that was no secret. It wasn’t really an issue, either. Changbin always made sure Dwaekki ate healthily, even if he did snack around a bit. Apparently, Jiniret had also noticed Dwaekki’s affinity for snacking, and before thinking about how his words might sound, he opened his mouth and spoke.

“You eat a lot, don’t you?” The ferret’s tone was almost dry as he looked at the pink pig-rabbit with a straight face. Hyunjin’s jaw had dropped, and his face turned as pink as Dwaekki’s coat.

Luckily, neither Dwaekki nor Changbin took it to heart, at least, if Changbin’s cackling from the other side of the couch was anything to go by. Needless to say, Jiniret and Hyunjin had a long talk that day about how his words can affect others, even if he’s just making an observation and doesn’t mean any harm.

The little guy felt horrible when he realized that his words could’ve hurt his best friend, and from then on, he’d been more intentional with what he said. Jiniret was never one to repeat mistakes, and that was something Hyunjin has always been very proud of. 

Today, though? Today might just have been his last straw. He’d taken Jiniret out to eat, as one does. The restaurant wasn’t too crowded, but it wasn’t empty either, with a few tables being occupied throughout the room. He’d gotten a kid’s menu for Jiniret, knowing the little ferret likes to doodle and scribble.

After they’d ordered, Hyunjin had noticed you, sitting a few tables away. He tried to be normal, tried to keep his eyes averted, but they just kept straying back to you. You were just so pretty. You were pulling him in, and he couldn’t even entirely place why. He just couldn’t stop glancing toward where you were sitting across from a brunette.

Unbeknownst to him, his SKZOO had taken notice of his staring and decided to take matters into his own hands. If Hyunjin was scared to make friends, he should help, right? At least, that’s what his little brain assumes. So, he works hard, using all three crayons that came with his kids’ menu to draw the prettiest flower he could manage. Then, he got up and wandered toward your table before Hyunjin could even notice.

Hyunjin, however, caught Jiniret just a second too late. He glanced toward you again, only to see his ferret friend holding up his menu to you and babbling about something. You’re smiling down at him, thankfully, so it must not be too bad. Still, Hyunjin stands and rushes toward your table, and he approaches in just enough time for his animal companion to embarrass him. 

“Yeah!” The little ferret nods enthusiastically. “Hyune thinks you’re hot!” 

Of course, that’s when you notice Hyunjin nearing, and his pained expression and red cheeks are enough for you to deduce that this must be “Hyune.” You smile sheepishly at him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m so sorry about him…” Hyunjin starts, stepping close enough to rest a hand on top of Jiniret’s furry head. “He just kind of…speaks sometimes.”

A laugh bursts from your lips, brief but bright, before you rein it in to answer the man in front of you. “He’s alright. I thought it was sweet.”

His blush worsens, if that’s even possible at this point, and he shakes his head a bit. “Still. Jiniret, apologize for interrupting their date-”

“Oh! It’s not a date. Just two friends catching up,” you interject, smiling at him softly, almost like you’re hoping he’ll catch onto something.

He blinks slowly before nodding, just once. “Right… Well, um, we’ll leave you to your dinner. Sorry, again.” He turns to leave, dragging Jiniret with him, and he quickens his pace when he thinks he hears you chuckling behind him. Great.

“Wait,” you speak up, standing from your seat. “How about you join my friend and I? We’d love to listen to Jiniret a bit longer.” Your head tilts to the side a bit, and you’re still standing rather far away when he turns to face you again, like you’re trying not to spook him.

When he’s quiet for a moment longer, you try again. “Or…I could just give you my number, and we could work out a time to meet up again?”

That’s when it clicks for him. You’re attracted to him, too. He shakes himself out of his stupor, stumbling a bit as he pulls his phone out of his pants pocket. “T-That would be amazing! I mean, yeah, sure…”

Your smile widens slightly as he hands you his phone, and it doesn’t go away, even after he and Jiniret return to their table. He’s not much better, either. In fact, poor little Jiniret has to nudge him to get him to realize that their food had been delivered to their table.

⋆｡°✩ ───────────────── ✩°｡⋆

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Reblogs help as well!! If you feel comfortable with it and enjoyed this fic, please give it a quick reblog!

Thank you, my loves! MWAH 🩵

[emtinyracha]

⋆｡°✩ Meddling SKZOOs ✩°｡⋆

a/n: part one of binnie's series!! also first time i'm writing for him i'm so happy 🤭 as always i hope y'all enjoy and pretty pretty pls always feel free to chat with me about this universe!! i love hearing everyone's thoughts, questions, and ideas!

Summary: Changbin was well aware of the challenges that adopting a hybrid SKZOO might bring, but he wasn't prepared for the day that Dwaekki runs away from him, or the person Dwaekki introduced him to.

Pairing: changbin x gn!baker!reader

Word Count: 1353

Content/Warnings: SHOULD be a gn!reader but lmk if i messed that up, mentions of changbin being insecure/judged, mentions of food/baked goods, reader owns a small bakery, kinda angsty bc changbin is worried about dwaekki for a bit, lowkey more focus on changbin and dwaekki than changbin and reader in this part, only partly proof read, let me know if i've missed anything!!

changbin masterlist | Meddling SKZOOs

To say Changbin is panicking would be an understatement. Everyone had told him that getting a hybrid SKZOO would make things marginally more difficult for him, but he thought he could handle it. He’d been immediately taken with the little pig-rabbit hybrid, and there was no way he wasn’t bringing him home.

He supposes he saw himself in the odd little creature in some way, something that most people would look at as strange, someone who doesn’t fit into the standards society has placed on them. Changbin is no stranger to being judged for the way he looks, so he relates to the little guy in a way. He’d promised himself that he’d show that little pig-rabbit what unconditional love could feel like, and that’s exactly what he’s done.

Except now the little critter that he’s shown nothing but love and care to has run away from him on a busy street. Changbin is looking around frantically, searching in every possible direction for a glimpse of pink fur or ears in the crowd. His heart is racing; his hands are trembling. He knew that some people buy backpack leashes for their SKZOOs, but Dwaekki had never even attempted to run off before.

He raises a shaky hand to run through his hair, keeping it there for a moment. He forces himself to take a breath. Dwaekki has to be around here somewhere; he knows the little guy wouldn’t go far, or at least, he hopes. Once his heart rate has gone down a bit, he thinks, really thinks. What would interest his companion enough to pull him away? He sighs. Food. 

He looks around for any kind of food, a restaurant, a food truck, a street vendor. Anything. Faintly, he smells something sweet and sugary, and his instincts tell him to follow that. So, he does, heading in the direction of the scent that’s something similar to vanilla, but that he can’t quite place.

He pushes through the crowd as hastily yet as gently as possible, murmuring apologies as he goes, and the smell leads him to a bakery, where, thankfully, he finds his tiny friends happily standing outside, conversing with someone who Changbin doesn’t care to pay attention to right now.

“Dwaekki!” The word comes out as something between a shout and a sigh of relief as he rushes toward his little companion, wrapping the pink pig-rabbit in a warm hug. “I thought I’d lost you, buddy! You can’t run off like that, okay?” 

“Sorry, Binnie!” The little critter giggles, eagerly returning Changbin’s hold. He pulls back after just a moment, though, pointing up at the small table just outside the door of the bakery, which displays free samples. “But look! I found goodies!”

When Changbin sees what his tiny companion has run off for, he can’t hold back a tired sigh. “Dwaekki…we still can’t just run off without saying anything. You should’ve told me that you wanted something sweet. I would’ve brought you over here, bud…”

The pig-rabbit pouts, his tall, pink ears falling in guilt. “I’m sorry…” He trails off with a pout so adorable that Changbin immediately forgets all of his worry. He really is too cute for his own good.

“It’s alright. Let’s just not do that again, alright?” Changbin ruffles the tuft of pink fur in front of Dwaekki’s ears, grinning as the smile returns to his little buddy’s face.

“I promise, Binnie! Can we get treats now! The nice person told me I could have as I want!” Dwaekki smiles widely up at Changbin, cheesing like he’s just won the lottery, and to him, that’s probably close to what he’s feeling like.

Changbin’s brow furrows, however, at the mention of this mystery person, who has offered his SKZOO free treats. He turns his head toward the sample table again, and that’s when he finally notices you, frilly apron tied around your waist as you adjust the goodies on the table. He blinks, surprised at the fact that you’ve probably been there the whole time, but then, he gets protective.

He knows how people look at Dwaekki sometimes, like he’s strange, like he’s some sort of novelty. He doesn’t want anyone offering his companion things just because they think he’s funny to look at. Changbin loves that little guy with everything in him, and he’ll do everything in his power to ensure that Dwaekki never has to feel judged as Changbin has.

“Oh, really?” His tone is guarded. You don’t miss that, and it doesn’t really offend you. It’s clear how much he cares for the small creature, and you actually find it sweet how protective he is of the little pig-rabbit.

“He’s not lying, I promise,” you smile softly, trying to be sure your genuine kindness comes across. “He can have whatever he’d like.”

“You don’t have to do that. One is enough,” Changbin replies, shaking his head as he stands to his full height, hand holding Dwaekki’s.

“Really, I don’t mind. He’s a sweetheart, and I love meeting SKZOOs anyway. Here, little guy.” You slide a little brownie over to the small critter, grinning widely as he eagerly takes the treat and munches away at it.

“Thank you,” Changbin sighs, rubbing Dwaekki’s head with his free hand. The pig-rabbit leans into the touch, obviously more than content with the affection from his human companion. 

Something draws you to him. Maybe it’s his sweet little companion, or maybe it’s the care he so easily exhibits toward the little guy. Either way, you find yourself starting up a conversation. “You must be the one he was telling me about…” You tilt your head to the left a bit, unable to hide the slight smirk at the man in front of you.

He flushes at the thought of what the SKZOO could’ve said, knowing Dwaekki has a bit of an oversharing problem. “Uh, yeah…probably. I’m Changbin.”

Your smirk turns to a smile again as you give him your name in return. You open your mouth to speak again, but the little critter cuts you off. “Yeah! This is Binnie! He’s the lonely guy who takes care of me, and always complains about wanting to find someone, but never-” 

He’s cut off when a hand abruptly clasps over his little pig snout and mouth, leaving enough room for him to breathe through his nostrils. Your eyes dart to Changbin as you hold in a laugh, immediately taking notice of the bright red color on the tips of his pierced ears. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about…” The man chuckles awkwardly.

“Right. Well, you two are more than welcome to as many treats as you’d like.” You try to change the topic as he removes his hand from the pig-rabbit’s mouth, hoping to alleviate some of his embarrassment.

“I’ll take a lot!” Dwaekki pipes up eagerly, taking another brownie bite from the table. Clearly, he’s not one to keep his thoughts to himself. “But Binnie probably doesn’t want any. He spends too much time at the gym,” he speaks around the mouthful of brownie.

Changbin shoots him a glare before turning back to you. “I’ll take a brownie, too. Sorry about him.” 

You laugh it off, giving him a brownie bite with a smile. “It’s alright. I think he’s sweet. What’s his name again?”

“Dwaekki. It’s, uh, a mashup of the Korean words for pig and rabbit.” His ears turn red again as he explains the SKZOO’s name, and your heart warms at how endearing this man is. 

“That’s really clever. Dwaekki. I like it…”

“Thanks.” He’s not looking at you anymore, instead focusing on his smaller friend, looking down at the hybrid SKZOO with nothing but warm affection in his eyes.

“You’re welcome. You guys are welcome to come back any time, by the way. I’d love to keep supplying Dwaekki with sugar highs,” you chuckle. You really hope they come back.

“We might just have to take you up on that.” Changbin gives you one last smile before leading Dwaekki away from your small bakery, this time keeping a firm hold on his companion’s furry little hand.

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[dearlea]

LIFESAVER

李旻浩  𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝗋𝗂’𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 ?!

🐈‍⬛ cat dad!leeknow x cat lover!𝑓 rea──── ✿ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 . 𝑤𝑐 ✶ 𝟲𝟴𝟬 ' 𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚𝟰𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦 ❕ 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 . 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

kailea . i missed writing for skz sm 🙏🙏

IF SOMEONE HAD ASKED MINHO a few years ago what was a must for him while looking for a partner, he’d have answered that they had to love his cats as much as he did.

that was before he found out that everybody knew how to act the part. first, they’d act interested and ask all the right questions, but when they eventually moved in together, they’d start complaining.

“there’s cat hair all over my clothes”

“they keep waking me up at the crack of dawn”

“why do you need me to take care of them? cant you just, i dont know, get an automatic feeding system for them?”

frankly, he didn’t think he was going to get a girlfriend who loved his cats as much as him. he’d already crossed it out from his mental checklist for finding a girlfriend.

that was until he met you.

when he mentioned his cats on your first date, you seemed genuinely interested in them. he didn’t think much of it, you were just putting on the performative act everybody put on. trying to get on his good side, he told himself.

the first time you met his cats was when you went over to his place when he was sick. you made him soup, took care of his laundry, and most importantly (to him), entertained soonie, doongie, and dori.

you watched cartoons with them and made their a thousand step food, that even minho found annoying sometimes, without complaint.

still, he convinced himself that you still wouldn’t be able to deal with living with three cats for a long period of time.

now, after a year of living with him at his apartment, he has never heard you complain once. you’d let them sleep on the bed and didn’t show even a hint of annoyance when soonie scratched you.

minho was currently on a business trip, so you were home with the cats. that’s when you noticed that dori had been acting strange. he hadn’t peed today though he normally pees three times a day. he looked like he was straining every time he used the litter box and he kept licking his genital area.

you weren’t some cat expert, but your gut told you something was wrong, so you took him to the vet.

“he’s very lucky you took him in today. it looks like he has a urinary blockage, things would’ve been life-threatening if you brought him in even a day later.” the vet said, still examining dori. “we’ll have to do some x-rays and blood work to assess his kidney values and electrolyte levels first, but he’ll have to stay here for at least two days.”

the vet took dori away for the x-rays and blood tests while you signed the paperwork, then you facetimed minho.

“jagiya?” he answered the phone, sweaty and out of breath. “what’s up?”

“dori has a urinary blockage. he’s getting his blood work and x-ray done.”

“what?” you could hear the shock in his voice. “how’d you find out?”

“he hasn’t been peed for a day.”

“and you noticed?”

“of course i did,” you said matter-of-factly “they’re like my kids.”

minho looked at you on his screen like you hung the stars.

“i could like, marry you.” you laughed at his words, but he wasn’t joking. “i’m dead serious, yn.”

“i’ll look forward to the proposal then,” you giggled. “the nurse just called for me. i’ll update you later, kay?”

the vet said dori would need to go on a strict wet food diet, so you got all the food recommendations he had and got a new, more interesting water fountain because it would apparently encourage dori to drink more water.

minho came back a week later, and it was like he loved you even more than before, if that was even possible.

he couldn’t stop thanking you for “saving dori’s life” and pampered you with kisses for the entire week.

that was the moment he knew you were the one for him

and of course, the promised proposal came half a year after.

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[lovecvrexx]

LOUDER ✩ B. CHAN

( 방찬 ) ⓘ 𝑺𝑴𝑼𝑻! ⋆ rough sex ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ hair pulling ⋆ light choking ⋆ dirty talk ⋆ pet names ⋆ multiple orgasms ⋆ size kink ⋆ creampie : 1255

──── in which ︵ chan’s obsessed with one thing; hearing you moan his name. what starts slow and sweet quickly turns into rough, relentless pleasure as he pushes you through orgasm after orgasm just to hear those pretty sounds spill from your lips.

✩now playing - streets | doja cat | - ✩viewmasterlist to check out my other works!

your boyfriend, chan, loved hearing your sweet noises of pleasure. he would do anything to hear you moan his name in that breathy tone, all drunk on his cock no matter where you were. he didn’t mind how loud you got, it only brought him more pleasure. well, you weren’t usually that loud in bed, you knew you’d get a noise complaint if you let your voice out completely, but you can’t really keep quiet when all he does is try to make you moan even louder. 

"o—h, chan,” you sighed shakily, your head thrown back in ecstasy as he slowly pushed inside. chan groaned lowly when he bottomed out, feeling your velvety walls pulse around his cock.

he leaned down and nuzzled in your neck, his hands caressing your sides as he started to move. "y’feel so good baby, so fuckin’ beautiful," he murmured against your neck, kissing and nipping on the skin there.

chan being chan, with his hyper fixation with your moans, groaned in pleasure when he heard you moan so delicately, but he didn't want you to moan softly—he wanted you to scream his name.

he wanted the whole neighborhood to know who was fucking you so good, who was making you feel so good. your eyes rolled back briefly when he started to pound into you, the tip of his cock mercilessly slamming into your cervix. 

your eyes closed shut, eyebrows knitted together and back arching as profanities left your parted lips along with louder moans. chan relished in them. a shudder went down his spine when he heard you moan his name loudly when he hit a particularly spongy spot. he knew what he was hitting, he knew your body inside and out, after all.

"oh, did I find your sweet spot ma?" he cooed, tauntingly, before slamming hard into that spot again – purposely this time, making your back arch more, hands scrambling up to grip onto his forearms that held your hips in place on the bed. your whole body shuddered and trembled as he kept slamming precisely into your g-spot with a relentless pace, your moans nothing short of pornographic.

chan let out shaky low moans as he heard your sounds grow louder, his fingers working deftly on your puffy slippery clit, bringing you closer and closer to something earth-shattering.

your eyes teared up in pleasure, already so fucked to say anything except "harder" and "faster".

what could he do other than give you what you wanted? after all, he wanted it as much as your needy self.

the bedframe slammed against the wall in rhythm with his pounding, the bed creaking with each movement. your body rose up the bed with each thrust, making chan groan in annoyance. he wanted your body to stay still so he could fuck you harder just like you wanted, but with the way your body was bouncing it was near impossible, and so, he quickly thought of a solution. 

you whined when he suddenly stopped and pulled out, "all fours, ass up, face down." he ordered, his voice breathless with unfulfilled desire and exertion. chan watched as you scrambled into position, presenting your backside to him, your face flush against the pillow.

he let out a low whistle, "fucking love this view," he gave your ass a sharp slap before grabbing the flesh there with one hand and your hip with the other. you moaned into the pillow when he filled you up again.

his thrusts were punishing, exactly what you wanted as he surged forward with renewed vigor. chan couldn’t help but notice the way the pillow silenced your screams of pleasure.

oh, he was having none of that. 

his hand left your ass and tangled in your hair, wrapping your locks around his hand before tugging your head up. your moans immediately filled the room, making his whole body shudder. your moans were music to his ears.

"fu—ck, chan, cumming, o—h," you mewled, "m’gonna—gonna cu—m." he grunted in satisfaction when he heard your desperate – barely coherent – words.

"oh yeah? fuckin’ come on this big dick," one hand came down and around to draw quick circles on your swollen clit in time with his thrusts.

"c’mon ma, wanna feel you fucking suffocate my cock." his voice was a near growl as he worked you closer and closer.

your body shook and trembled when you reached your peak, pure unadulterated pleasure etched on your features as you moaned his name. he didn’t stop, he couldn’t, not when you were moaning his name like that. you gasped when he pushed you down fully, your front side now flush against the mattress as he started to pound into you.

this was it. this was the position.

chan moaned lowly in pleasure when he heard your loud gasping moans, the way your legs lifted whenever he went balls deep only spurred him on. he fucked you mercilessly, and you couldn’t move away, you were trapped between his body and the bed. his hand yanked your head back by your hair so he could hear all the sounds you were making without it being muffled by the bed or pillow.

"fucking love your sounds baby, your sweet fuckin’ moans, only for me." he moaned in your ear, causing shudders to ripple through your body.

you were fast approaching your second orgasm, the feeling of him going so deep and so fast was too much for you. his hand that was on your hair snaked around and wrapped itself around your throat. not quite cutting air supply, but enough pressure to have you gasping.

his free hand snaked under your body and strummed your bundle of nerves, the stimulation on your clit along with him repeatedly hitting your sweet spots deep inside you was your undoing. you let out high pitched keens and cries as you came again, your whole body shaking.

your pussy clenched around his cock rhythmically, all while pulling him in more. "f-fu—ck, your pussy’s fucking pulling me in, greedy girl," he groaned as he felt his release so close that he could practically taste it.

a few more brutal slams and chan let out a guttural moan when he finally felt the pressure in his lower abdomen snap, his hips jerking against your ass as he filled your welcoming cunt full with his seed.

his hand soon left your throat, his breathing ragged, matching yours as his body slumped on top of you, his cock still letting out little spurts of cum inside your quivering pussy, painting your walls white. he nuzzled his face in the side of your neck, breathing in your scent as he tried to control his breathing.

after a while, he finally pulled out, both of you moaning at how sensitive you’d become. and almost immediately after he pulled out, his cum trickled out of your well loved hole. chan couldn’t help himself, he just had to take a picture. he took his phone from the bedside table and nudged you gently, showing you his phone. "can I?" he asked and you nodded, chuckling in amusement, still breathless.

he sighed in contentment after taking the photos and plopping down next to you, pulling you closer by your waist and nuzzling his face in your hair. "i love you," he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his hands caressed your body, worshipping every inch as you two lay there on his bed, relishing in the afterglow and love.

© 2026 LOVECVREXX. please do not repost / claim my work is yours.

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[seospicybin]

COCKY.

CHAPTER FOUR

Hyunjin x reader. (s)

MASTERLIST

Synopsis: When you signed up for a paid product testing program, you expected free samples and money. What you didn’t expect was to be paired with Hwang Hyunjin and assigned to test a series of increasingly questionable sexual wellness products together. (24,1k words)

Author's note: Cut a few part bcs tumblr won't let me post the whole thing. It's long so savor it and take your time with it. And lastly, hope you enjoy it ❣️

Morning comes too fast. You feel it in your bones before you even open your eyes. That you still need rest. Or at least, an hour more of sleep. But routine is routine, and you move through it anyway. You get up. Shower. Get dressed. Eat breakfast. Step out.

By the time you arrive at the office, you feel ready for what’s ahead of you. You push through the doors, greeted by the clacking sounds of fingers on keyboards and low chatters of employees in between.

“Morning,” you greet lightly as you pass Gabe’s desk.

“Mm—morning,” she replies, distracted, eyes glued to her laptop, fingers moving quickly across the keyboard like she’s in the middle of something urgent.

You don’t question it but continue making your way to your desk, set your bag down, slide into your chair, and open your laptop. The screen flickers to life, emails loading in one by one as you’re taking off your blazer and hang it on the back of your chair.

“Hey,” Gabe suddenly says.

You hum in response, barely glancing up.

“Can I borrow your ID card?”

“For what?” you ask in confusion, but your hand is already reaching into your bag.

“Checking something…” she mutters, still not looking away from her screen.

You take the lanyard from around your neck and hand it over without suspicion, attention already drifting back to your own laptop.

After a moment, Gabe briefly glances away from her laptop and explains, “I’m checking if I won anything from the anniversary raffle.”

“Ah, I see,” you respond, letting out a small, amused breath under your nose.

Another moment later, she turns to you with a pout already forming on her lips. “I only got the company souvenir.”

You glance at her, lips twitching. “That’s still something.”

“A notebook and a pen? Who needs that?” she grumbles.

That earns a soft chuckle from you before you shake your head and return to your screen.

Gabe sighs dramatically and turns back to her laptop. “I’m going to check yours.”

You don’t think much of it. Just nod absentmindedly, clicking through another email and you’re in the middle of replying to an email when Gabe’s sharp gasp interrupt you. You turn your head and find her wide eyes locked on the screen before she slowly turns her head toward you, disbelief written all over her face.

“Oh my God! You won a body care package,” she says, a hand flies over her mouth.

You slowly tilt your head to the side. “Oh?”

“You deserve it though since you’re Miss Perfect Planner and all…” she sighs in defeat.

“Hey!” You weakly scold her for calling you that.

“I’m so jealous,” she whines, already pouting again, this time worse. “It even has the hair dryer I wanted.”

You lean back slightly in your chair, completely unfazed. “If you want it that much. You can have it.”

Gabe shoots up from her seat. “WHAT?”

Before you can even process it, she’s out of her chair, practically launching herself toward you. Her hands grab onto your arms, her face way too close, eyes wide and sparkling.

“Are you serious?” she asks, blinking up at you like she might cry if you take it back.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah.”

That’s all it takes for her to wrap her arms around you in a tight hug, squeezing you like you’ve just handed her the best day of her life. “I love you. I love you. I literally love you,” she groans into your shoulder.

You laugh softly, patting her back. “It’s just a prize, Gabe.”

“No, it’s my prize now,” she corrects immediately, pulling back just enough to look at you again. “And I’m treating you to lunch later.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do,” she insists, already stepping back, clutching your ID card like it’s her winning ticket. “Also, you need to come with me to claim it later.”

You sigh, but there’s no real resistance in it. Just a small nod. “Alright.”

Gabe beams, clearly satisfied, before returning to her desk like nothing just happened—except now she’s noticeably happier, already typing away again.

You do the same. You turn back to your laptop, fingers resting on the keyboard and everything feels normal again.

-

After lunch, you and Gabe joining the queue with the other employees who’s lining up for the prize booth to claim theirs. The energy is buzzing with leftover excitement from the anniversary.

Gabe, of course, is fully invested. She shifts her weight from one foot to another, peeking over shoulders, overhearing the conversations around her and then muttering under her breath about how unfair it is that she only got a company souvenir.

“…I mean, I would like a neck massager too,” she mumbles, lips curling dramatically.

Not even a second later, her pout turns into a bright smile. She lifts her hand high and waving it in the air while calling someone, “Hey! Right here!”

You follow her line of sight to see the person she’s calling over and the second you know, you instantly regret it.

Hyunjin walks with the same wide, confident strides, that same grin that settles on his full lips like it belongs there permanently. Hands tucked casually into his jeans, shoulders relaxed like he just wandered into the scene without a care in the world. But his eyes find you first, lingering for a second before it turns to Gabe.

“Here to claim your prizes?” he asks, voice light, teasing already curling at the edges.

Gabe launches straight into a dramatic rant about the unfairness, about her tragic luck, about how you won something she desperately wants. You let her talk, arms loosely crossed, gaze flicking between them but never settling too long on him.

After a good minute, Gabe finally ends her rant with a question. “What about you?”

“I actually just claimed mine,” he adds with a faint smirk.

“What did you get?” she asks, leaning forward, eyes wide with anticipation.

Hyunjin hums thoughtfully, like he’s deciding whether to reveal it or not. Then, he slowly reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a folded piece of paper. He takes his time unfolding it and then shows it to her.

Gabe lets out a low, deep gasp and somehow, she clings at your arm as she gushes, “A five-star hotel voucher?!”

Her voice rises just enough to turn a few heads nearby, and she immediately clamps a hand over her mouth, but the damage is done. Her eyes dart back to the paper, then to Hyunjin, then back again like she’s hoping it’ll magically change into hers.

“Okay, now I’m so jealous,” she mumbles again. But the disappointment doesn’t last long as her curiosity wins, just like it always does.

You can’t keep your curiosity as well and secretly take a peek at the paper. The voucher is for two days one night stay at a five-star hotel eligible for two persons.

“So…” she starts, drawing the word out as she tilts her head at him, “who are you taking?”

Hyunjin taps his lips with his finger, pretending to think. It’s exaggerated—almost theatrical.

His eyes flick to you, fast but it’s long enough for you to notice that there’s something in them. Like a thought he almost let slip.

Then the grin comes back as he turns to Gabe and says, “Still thinking about it.”

All of a sudden, Gabe raises her hand like she’s volunteering in class, flashing him a bright, shameless smile. “I’m free.”

You turn your head slowly, fixing her with a flat, unimpressed look but as expected, she ignores you completely.

“Alright,” he says, half chuckling and nodding like he’s making a serious note of it. “You’re on the list for now.”

It’s not a yes. It’s barely even a maybe. But Gabe beams like she just secured the spot anyway.

You shake your head under your breath, a quiet exhale slipping past your lips as you reach for her wrist. “Come on. The line’s moving,” you mutter, tugging her forward just as the people ahead of you step aside.

She lets herself be pulled along but she looks over her shoulder at Hyunjin. “Call me!” she mouths.

Behind you, Hyunjin smiles and steps back, already turning to leave. “Good luck!”

The claiming process doesn’t take long. In ten minutes, you and Gabe are already walking back into the office side by side.

“I still can’t believe you gave it to me,” she gushes for what feels like the tenth time, clutching her phone to her chest like the body care package is already in her possession. “Do you even know how expensive those sets are? It has that silk shampoo that I want—oh my god—”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head as you make your way toward your desk. “You already paid me back with lunch,” you lightly say.

“It was not enough,” she insists immediately. “Next time, I’ll treat you something better.”

You huff out a quiet chuckle, about to kindly refuse the offer but abruptly stop when you see Seungmin there, standing beside your desk. Your steps slow almost instantly. Your posture straightens without you thinking about it, shoulders pulling back, chin lifting just slightly.

Next to you, Gabe goes quiet too. You can feel the shift in the way her arm, still loosely linked with yours, stiffens before she slowly unhooks it, creating just enough space.

Seungmin turns at the subtle change in movement and when his eyes land on you, his expression softens. Then, a smile. That gentle and knowing smile, familiar in a way that still unsettles you.

Gabe recovers first. Her voice dropping into something polite, almost careful as she says, “Good afternoon, Sir!”

Seungmin nods at her, then at you. “Good afternoon.”

You step forward, stopping just short of your desk, hands settling neatly at your sides.

“Is there something I can help you with?” you ask, tone professional, steady.

He shifts slightly, now fully facing you. “I was looking for you,” he says simply.

Your heart skips a beat. Surprised by how he casually revealed his reason for coming here.

Seungmin keeps his eyes on you as he continues talking. “I wanted to let you know—I’ll be taking you and your team out for dinner. A thank-you for the anniversary event.”

For a split second, you hesitate.

You’re already forming a response, to politely refuse, to check with everyone first before saying yes — but Gabe beats you to it.

“We’d be happy to,” she says brightly.

You don’t even have time to react before Seungmin continues, nodding once. “Good. I wanted to check if tomorrow night works.”

“Tomorrow works!” Gabe chirps.

You quietly grab Gabe’s hand, fingers closing around hers and give her a firm squeeze. A warning. And as usual, she ignores it.

Seungmin nods, satisfied. His gaze flickers back to you, lingering just a fraction longer than necessary. “Then I’ll leave the details to you. Ask your team what they’d prefer. My assistant will handle the arrangements.”

You force a small, polite smile. “Alright.”

He holds your gaze for a brief moment, something flickering in his eyes before stepping back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

You know he’s not personally addressing you but somehow, it feels like it. You wait until Seungmin is completely out of sight before turning sharply to Gabe. “You shouldn’t have answered for me. I was going to ask everyone first,” you say, your voice low but firm.

Gabe’s expression falters immediately. She looks down, shoulders dropping slightly as the excitement from earlier drains out of her. “I’m sorry. I just… thought everyone deserved it. We worked so hard for the anniversary event.”

You exhale, the tension in your chest loosening just a little. “I wasn’t going to reject it. I just wanted to make sure the timing works for everyone,” you clarify, softer now.

She nods quickly, guilt settling in her features. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

You hold her gaze for a second, then sigh. “Just… please, don’t do that again.”

“Yes. I won’t. I’m really sorry,” she says immediately.

You give a small nod before turning back to your desk. But you look over your shoulder to add, “And since you already said yes, you can inform the team.”

Gabe perks up slightly at the task, nodding as she hurries back to her laptop. “Got it.”

You pull your chair out and sit, finally letting your body relax into it. Your laptop screen glows back at you, but your mind— It’s everywhere.

You lean back slightly, exhaling through your nose. Yeah. This day really is… a little bit of everything all at once.

-

From the moment you wake up, you get the feeling that today will be your least favorite day.

When you glance at the time, there’s still time left in the workday. But when you glance toward Gabe’s desk, you find her already halfway through touching up her makeup, a compact mirror propped against her laptop screen.

You don’t say anything but give her a quiet look before you shift your attention back to your laptop, to the tasks that demand just enough attention to keep your mind from drifting too far. You let yourself sink into it, into the routine, into the comfort of things you can control.

However, time doesn’t stop and before you know it, the office begins to thin out. You feel it again, the weight of the night waiting for you.

By the time you arrive at the restaurant with Gabe and the rest of the team, the sky has already deepened into that soft, in-between blue just before night fully settles in.

The place is warm and cozy, loud in a comforting way. You’re seated along a long table, the grill embedded in the center already prepped. Menus are passed around, but no one really commits to anything yet. Because everyone is waiting for him. For Seungmin.

You sit there, one hand lying flat on the wooden table, eyes skimming over the menu without actually reading it.

“Should we just order first?” someone suggests.

“I think it’s not right to order before he comes,” Gabe says and then she turns to you, arm lightly nudges yours. “Right?”

“Yeah, let’s just wait for a bit more,” you say while nodding. But then, a thought slips in.

Maybe he won’t come. Maybe something came up. Maybe he got busy. You let yourself believe it. Just a little.

However, the illusion shatters when you see him walking into the restaurant. Everyone suddenly straightens, the chairs scraping lightly against the floor as they stand.

Right. You were only fooling yourself. You push your chair back and stand too with less enthusiasm. And honestly, a little reluctantly.

Seungmin’s presence is effortless. The kind that draws attention without asking for it. He smiles when he reaches the table, a polite, measured smile.

“I’m sorry I’m late. The meeting ran longer than expected,” he begins with a genuine apology.

There’s a ripple of responses that are said all at once.

“It’s okay, sir—”

“No problem at all—”

“We just got here too—”

Everyone suddenly feels smaller, stiffer and you can see it in the way shoulders square, in the way voices polished just slightly in formality.

Seungmin, of course, notices. “Please, sit down,” he says, a hint of amusement in his tone.

With that being said, people settle back into their seats, though not quite the same as before.

Gabe gestures toward the empty seat at the end of the table. “You can sit here—”

Yet Seungmin doesn’t move toward it. His gaze flicks to your side of the table. To Gabe’s seat. It’s subtle. But apparently, not subtle enough that Gabe catches it immediately.

“Or here. You can sit here,” she says, already moving.

Gabe gets up from her seat, pulling the chair for Seungmin and sliding over toward the end instead.

The next thing you know, Seungmin is next to you, closer than you were prepared for. You keep your expression calm. Like it doesn’t matter. Like he doesn’t matter beyond professionalism.

Seungmin slips off his suit jacket, folding it neatly before settling into the seat. He continues to rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, exposing the expensive wristwatch and prominent veins on his forearms.

You look away and clear your throat softly, gesturing to the others. “You guys can start ordering.”

The conversation slowly picking back up—careful at first, then gradually loosening as menus are opened and being discussed again.

Seungmin leans back slightly in his chair, glancing around the table. “Please, order anything you want. It’s on the company’s card anyway,” he lightly jokes with a faint smirk.

There’s a small ripple of laughter, but edged with restraint. People start pointing at items, discussing options, passing menus around.

You pick up the menu as well, just to have something to do even though you’re not that hungry. You stare at the list of food, the words blurring slightly as your mind drifts somewhere else entirely.

You’re aware of him beside you. The way it feels like no time has passed and too much time has passed all at once. Your fingers tighten slightly around the edge of the menu before you gently set it down. And for a fleeting second, you wonder if you’ll be able to get through this night pretending like everything is fine.

-

The dinner starts off stiff but food has a way of softening people. Plates fill, the grill sizzles, drinks are poured and refilled, and slowly, the table begins to sound like a team again instead of a room full of employees trying to impress their boss.

Someone starts a story, someone else interrupts, and for a moment, it almost feels normal. You keep your role intact by checking if everyone has enough to eat, making sure orders are coming through, answering questions when needed—but you don’t miss the way your glass keeps getting refilled.

Or the way Gabe’s does and she’s definitely feeling it now. She leans forward slightly, cheeks flushed, chin resting on her hand, eyes a little brighter than usual as she looks across the table at Seungmin.

“Hey, Mr. CMO,” she calls, grinning.

Seungmin turns his head side to side. “Did she call me?” he asks you.

“Yes,” you simply answer while keeping your eyes on the meat you’re grilling.

Seungmin wraps his hand around his glass of beer. “Yes, Miss Gabe?”

Gabe giggles at that. “Can I ask something a little… personal?”

There’s no use in scolding Gabe because what makes you think she would listen? Especially after four pints of beer in. You pretend not to hear it and focus on distributing food to everyone.

Seungmin, on the other hand, is unfazed. He sips his beer and then sets it down. “You can try.”

Gabe grins wider. “Are you single?”

The table suddenly quiets—not completely, but enough for the question to hang in the air. You keep your focus on your plate, cutting into a piece of meat that you’re not even sure you want to eat.

Seungmin rush to answer but picks up his chopsticks. “I’m not seeing anyone at the moment,” he says, then casually shoves a piece of meat into his mouth.

shoves a piece of meat into his mouth

Gabe hums like she’s filing that away for future reference. “Interesting…”

You can almost see the gears turning in her head and know for sure they do when she turns to you.

“Do you know that our Miss Perfect Planner is also single?” she says.

You pause mid-motion, fork hovering just slightly above your plate. “Gabe!” You hiss.

It doesn’t end there as Gabe shields the side of her mouth and loudly whispers, “I’ve been working with her for a while and I’ve never seen her go on a date. Like, ever.”

You feel the attention from everyone on the table and you hate it. You force a small, dismissive smile. “That’s not true.”

“When?” Gabe presses immediately.

You open your mouth but the word doesn’t come out. Because Gabe is telling the truth. You stopped going on dates ever since…

“See?” Gabe beams like she’s just proven a point.

You exhale quietly through your nose, shaking your head as you take a sip of your drink instead of engaging further.

But Gabe isn’t done, she looks at Seungmin, conspiratorial now. “I’m just saying that you’re both smart, and charismatic, and shared a history… you two would make a great couple.”

You can’t ignore it this time. You take her half-finished beer and put it away from her reach. “No more drinking for you, Gabe,” you warn with a firm glare.

That should be warning enough but Gabe turns back to Seungmin, eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Was she always like that? Back then? When you worked together?”

There’s a small pause before Seungmin answers. Just long enough to make a couple of heads turn toward you and him.

“No,” Seungmin finally says.

One word and that’s already too much.

Gabe leans in, intrigued. “No?”

You finally glance up, ready to make say anything to deflect from the truth but it’s a big mistake because Seungmin is already looking at you that it feels like the conversation has narrowed down to just the two of you.

“She wasn’t always like that. She used to—” He stops himself or maybe he chooses to.

You don’t want to hear the rest. You don’t want him to finish that sentence. Please, don’t.

Gabe tilts her head in curiosity. “Used to what?”

Seungmin’s gaze lingers on you for half a second longer before he looks away, reaching for his drink. “She used to be more… open,” he says instead.

It’s vague but it tells enough. Because you know what he means and worse is, now you know that he remembers.

Gabe glances between the two of you, something clicking in her head. “Oh—wait,” she says slowly, eyes widening just a little. “Did you two—”

The sound of your phone ringing cutting through the conversation and you don’t even check who’s calling, but grab it and use it a way out. “Excuse me. I need to take this,” you quickly say, already pushing your chair back.

No one can stop you because you’re already standing, already stepping away from the table before the question can fully form. Before anyone can answer it. Before he can.

-

The moment you step out of the restaurant, the door closing behind you muffles everything until it’s replaced by the quiet hum of the night.

Cool air brushes against your skin, slipping beneath the thin fabric of your clothes, and you inhale deeply, like you’ve been holding your breath this whole time without realizing it.

You inhale and exhale. Once. Twice. Your phone still vibrating in your hand before you finally answer it.

“Hello—”

“You sound busy.”

You don’t even need to check the screen. You can hear the grin. You close your eyes briefly, exhaling through your nose. “What?”

On the other end, there’s a faint crunch. He’s snacking on something and you can only hope it’s not something from your fridge. “Where are you? Why haven’t you come home yet?” he asks like a fussy child that’s left alone in the house.

Right. Tonight. The test. The realization hits you late. You wince and drag a hand down your face. “Oh no, I forgot.”

Seconds passed in silence and then,“You… forgot?” he asks in disbelief,

“I’m having a team dinner tonight and—” you stop for a second and decide not to share the details. Seungmin detail. “I have to cancel our test tonight.”

There’s another crunching sound and then, “What am I supposed to do now?”

It comes out less like a question and more like a complaint. You pull the phone slightly away from your ear, staring at it for a second like that’ll somehow change the tone of his voice.

“You can do whatever you want. You’re an adult,” you flatly say.

He clicks his tongue, annoyed. “Mm. No. I’ll just wait for you,” he finally decides.

Your brows pull together. “Hyunjin—”

The line goes dead before you can say any other word and you stare at your phone, sighing in disbelief.  You shove it back into your pocket, shoulders dropping slightly as the quiet settles around you again.

For a moment, you just stand there and let the cool air wrap around you, let yourself not think. Because the second you do, it all comes rushing back. You exhale slowly, arms crossing loosely over yourself as you lean back against the wall.

Honestly, you consider not going back in. You don’t want to. You don’t want to sit there and smile and pretend like nothing just happened. You don’t want to—

The door opens behind you and from the gait, the footsteps, you know who it is and the next thing you know he’s there, beside you. Standing so innocently like he didn’t just corner you minutes ago with half-truths and almost-confessions.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. Silence stretches between you, strained but not tense. Not hollow either.

After a while, you push yourself off the wall, turning slightly to face him, arms still crossed. “Why did you do that?”

There’s no preamble. No softness. You go straight to it.

Seungmin doesn’t react like he’s been accused of anything. If anything, he looks calm. “Do what?”

You let out a short, disbelieving breath. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” he repeats like he genuinely doesn’t understand. Or like he’s pretending not to.

“Back there. With Gabe. With the way you—” you stop yourself, shaking your head. “Why are you bringing it up?”

“I didn’t bring anything up,” he says simply.

You’re in awe at how committed he is to this innocent act. You let out a humorless laugh. “You implied it.”

There’s a second of pause and then, he steadily says, “I answered her question.”

“You went further than that.”

“I stopped.”

That makes you falter because he’s right. He could’ve said more. He didn’t. You shake your head, frustrated. “Why does it feel like you’re playing some kind of game?”

“I’m not playing anything.”

“You are,” you insist, stepping closer without realizing it. “You show up, you act like nothing happened, and then you—drop things like that in front of everyone like it doesn’t mean anything.”

Seungmin finally turns fully toward you and there’s something in his expression now. “It does mean something.”

You burst into sarcastic laughter. “Oh, now it does?”

“It always did.”

You shake it off immediately. “You don’t get to say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you left,” you snap, the words coming out quicker, harsher than you intended. “You left and you didn’t—” you stop yourself again, jaw tightening. “So don’t stand here and act like it still matters.”

For a second, you feel like you’re about to break into tears and he’s going to argue, defend himself. But he just looks at you. “I’m not acting,” he says quietly.

That does something to your chest. Something you don’t want to feel. You shake your head again, stepping back this time. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I’m not falling into it.”

His brows pull together slightly. “Falling into what?”

“Whatever this is,” you gesture vaguely between the two of you. “You don’t get to just walk back in and—rewrite things.”

“I’m not rewriting anything.”

“Then what are you doing?” you accidentally raise your voice a little louder.

This time, he doesn’t answer immediately and the silence that follows after, it tells you more than anything he could say. You let out a slow breath, already done with this.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” you mutter, shaking your head.

You don’t wait but turn on your feet, pushing the door open and stepping back into the restaurant. Because as suffocating as it is in there, it’s still easier than standing out here with him.

Easier than whatever this is trying to become again.

-

The noise hits you the second you step back inside and it feels too loud after the quiet outside. You don’t look back. You don’t want to know if he’s following. You walk straight to the table, slipping back into your seat like nothing just happened, like your chest isn’t still tight, like your thoughts aren’t still tangled somewhere out there in the cold night air.

“Hey—there you are!”

Gabe’s voice cuts through first, bright and a little too loud, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glassy with just enough alcohol to loosen her up. She lifts a glass toward you, sloshing the liquid slightly over the rim. “Come drink this. You deserve it.”

You glance at it and for a second, considering what comes with a glad of drink and then—heck it.

You take it from her hand and down it in one go and the burn hits instantly as it slides down your throat, settling heavy in your chest.

Gabe’s eyes widen. “Oh—okay—”

“Another one,” you say, already setting the empty glass down.

She looks at you with dazed eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Another one.”

She refills the glass and you take it. Drink. And do it again. And again. Somewhere along the way, the taste stops mattering. It all blurs into the same bitter and biting hollow. You just keep going until the voices around you start to slightly muted, the tension in your shoulders loosens, your thoughts slowing just enough to dull everything that happened outside. Of everything he said. Or didn’t say.

“Hey, slow down—” Gabe mutters beside you, half-laughing now, half-concerned as she reaches for your wrist. “You’re not trying to win another prize here—”

“I’m fine,” you cut in, already reaching for the next glass.

Your fingers brush against someone else’s hand and you look up to see that it’s Seungmin. He’s standing there, a glass in his own hand, gaze steady on you. You quickly pull your hand back like it burned.

“I’ve got it,” he says quietly, setting a fresh glass in front of you before you can grab another.

You stare at it and then at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

Something about the way he calmly says it makes your jaw tighten. You let out a small, humorless breath, then pick up the glass anyway. “Thanks,” you mutter, not meaning it.

You drink and this time, slower. But only because his eyes are still on you. You can feel it even when you don’t look. Even when you try to ignore it. The alcohol settles deeper and heavier now, your limbs loosening, your thoughts slipping just enough that it’s easier to pretend. Easier to sit there and smile when someone talks to you, nod along like you’re still part of the conversation.

But every now and then, you feel that awareness. Like no matter how much noise fills the room, how much you drink, how much you try to drown it out—

He’s still there and somehow, that’s the one thing you can’t seem to blur.

-

Hyunjin stares at his phone for a second after he hangs up your call and then scoffs.

“Having fun without me,” he mutters under his breath, tossing the phone onto the cushion beside him.

He sinks deeper into your sofa, one leg thrown over the armrest, a half-empty box of cereal resting on his stomach. He reaches in lazily, crunching down on another mouthful, eyes glued to the ceiling like it personally offended him.

“You forgot,” he adds, quieter this time, almost like he’s testing how it sounds out loud.

He shoves another handful of cereal into his mouth and the crunching sound echoing in the room, drifting upstairs.

Upstairs…

Hyunjin has been good.Very good.He didn’t snoop, didn’t wander, didn’t climb the stairs despite the fact that he’s had the chances to. Despite his curiosity. A whole gold star performance, honestly.

But tonight, he can’t seem to contain the inquisitive little ferret in him. He tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly as he chews. “You’d be home late, right?”

Silence answers him. He taps his fingers against the cereal box, thinking. Then, like he’s already lost the argument with himself—

“Just looking,” he says, pointing vaguely at nothing. “Not touching.”

A promise. A very loose one. He pushes himself up from the sofa, brushing crumbs off his shirt, and heads toward the stairs. He takes two steps at a time, feet practically bouncing in every step.

Upstairs is quiet and still. Very you.

Hyunjin steps lightly, like the floor might betray him, glancing around with curiosity tucked behind that usual, careless ease. First door is the study and he nudges it open, just enough to look inside. Desk. Computer. Books. Everything annoyingly in place. He walks in, glances around, taps a pen against the table, spins once in the chair—just because—and then stands again.

“Boring,” he decides, already halfway out.

Next is the space tucked between the study and the bathroom. The shelf catches his attention first—rows of books lining the wall, neat but lived-in. The couch looks too comfortable, the throw pillows practically inviting him to flop down. It’s a reading nook.

He can safely assume this is your favorite part of the house. From how much attention you put in it. How comfortable it is.

His eyes drift to the side and there’s a mini fridge. He can safely assume that this is where you spend most of your time, just hiding here with your books, surrounded by soft, fluffy throw pillows and eating the snacks from your mini fridge.

And talking about the mini fridge… He crouches, opens it, and lets out a low whistle. There are cans of sparkling juices, seltzer and mini packs of snack in many variations. He shakes his head, amused. “This is how you have fun?”

He grabs a pack of blueberries without hesitation, popping a few into his mouth as he stands again. “Stealing these,” he announces to no one with a big grin, already walking out like it’s a done deal.

After that, there’s not much left but a linen closet, the bathroom and the last door at the end of the hallway. The main bedroom. Your bedroom.

Hyunjin hovers there for a second, hand on the knob. He looks around like you’d magically appear and catch him in the act.

“Just looking,” he repeats as he slowly twists it open. Like you might actually be inside.

The door creaks just slightly as he pushes it open and steps in. The first thing that he notices is that faint, sweet scent of your perfume that lingers in the air. His steps slow as his mind drifts away, following where the scent takes him.

And for a second, he’s somewhere else. He’s there with you, his head buried in the crook of your neck, his lips on that sensitive skin behind your ear. You’re close and warm, your breath against his—

Hyunjin exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “Get it together,” he mutters.

He moves to the dresser first. He pulls open one drawer after another. On the second drawer, he pauses, brows lifting at the collection of bras arranged by its colors. His fingers hover before picking up one in cream color, the fabric is of silk and lace. His thumb brushes over it absentmindedly as he imagines you in it, soft and delicate.

“That’s a nice one.”

The words come out lower than he expects and sets it back carefully before his mind drifts too far. He closes the drawer and moves on to the vanity next. He sits on the round cushioned stool, scanning the lineup of makeup, skincare, bottles of perfume. His gaze lands on one in particular, noticeably more used than the rest. He picks it up, gives it a small spray into the air, then leans into it.

There it is again, the scent that reminds him of your skin, the softness and the warmth, the way it feels against him. He smiles without meaning to and the bottle clicks softly as he puts it down.

“Yeah… that’s you.”

The next one is the closet and it’s no surprise that it’s organized. Shoes, purses, bags, they’re all color-coded. He takes a step closer to the hanged clothes, hand trails along the fabrics as he slowly, lazily walks—jackets, shirts, dresses— they’re all arranged by its type before its colors and he scoffs, half impressed, half offended.

He stops when he finds the dress you wore to the anniversary. His fingers curl lightly around the fabric. “…Yeah.”

He smiles as he remembers how unaware you were with how beautiful you looked in it. He remembers looking at you from across the room and just standing there, pretending to listen to someone else while his attention kept drifting back to you. Over. And over. And over again.

He remembers how his heart did a flip in his chest and the way he had to calm himself down before walking up to you.  He should’ve said something about it then, complimenting you sooner and tell you that you were the only one that caught his attention that night.

The moment has sadly passed so he lets go of the dress and steps back.

He gets out of the closet and saunters his way to the bed. He drops onto the edge of it, testing it with a small bounce before letting out a quiet laugh.

“Ooo, good bounce,” he notes, like it’s a review.

He said not touching but he didn’t say he can try your bed by lying down on it. Just for a second, he promises to himself.

He takes his slippers off and lays down on your bed, long legs stretched, arms folded under his head. Then, he closes his eyes. Just staying still like this feels… good. Peaceful. Until he turns to the side and catches the scent clinging to the sheets and pillows. It’s of you, that same subtle, sweet smell whenever he leans in, kissing you on the neck, on the column of your throat—

He scrambles to get up and sits on the edge of the bed again. He quickly distracts himself with the stuff on your bedside table. He picks up a rectangular case and flips the lid open to find a pair of reading glasses inside. He takes them out, slides them on.

“Wow. I feel smarter already,” he says flatly, looking around.

They come off just as quickly as his attention turns to the book you’re currently reading. From the cover, he can tell that it’s sci-fi, not quite his taste. Still, he flips it open, scanning where you left off and something slips out from between the pages.

A piece of card landing right on his lap. He sets the book aside and picks it up.

“What’s this?” he asks himself.

He flips it over and reads the cursive handwriting on it. “Can’t have you wearing what’s lying around in your closet.”

His brows furrowing slightly because those words sound familiar. He sits there in quiet as he tries to recall where he heard it before. A moment later—

The conversation he had with you in the control room. He jokingly suggested you to wear a leopard dress to the anniversary party and you said those exact words to him in respond. And that day—

“Who else heard that?” he mutters, a small scoff following.

It couldn’t possibly the operator guy. But it would be funny if it is. Then, his eyes drop to the signature on the bottom corner and just like that, the amusement fades.

Kim Seungmin.

The name sits heavy on his tongue. Hyunjin leans back slightly, card still in hand, eyes narrowing just a fraction as something shifts behind them as a quiet realization settling in.

“So that’s how it is...”

-

The house feels different when he comes back down. Like something followed him downstairs and stubbornly clinging to his back. Hyunjin drops back onto the sofa, the stolen pack blueberries in his hand, the card now tucked somewhere in the back of his mind where it refuses to stay quiet. He pops one blueberry into his mouth and chews. And his mind drifts to you, to Seungmin and the question mark in between.

Hyunjin exhales through his nose, shifting slightly on the couch, stretching one arm over his head. He’s never cared because from what he’s seen, you and Seungmin didn’t look like anything. If anything, it looked like the opposite. Like something that ended before it could even begin.

So Hyunjin never questioned it. Never bothered too. But now, after what he’s just discovered, gets him questioning everything. And suddenly, it doesn’t look like nothing anymore. It looks restrained. Like something’s being held back.

His head tilts back against the sofa, eyes closing for a second as if that’ll quiet his thoughts.

It doesn’t as a new question pressing in. Is it still happening?

The thought sits there in the back of his mind, taunting, unsettling. Persistent.

Hyunjin scoffs softly to himself and shouts into the void. “Not my business.”

But it is his business and something in his chest twists just slightly.

He puts his headphones on. He presses play and blasts the volume all the way up, willing to tune out everything. Even if he has to sacrifice the well-being of his eardrums.

For a long moment, it works. He doesn’t think, but singing along to the lyrics of the song with eyes closed, swinging his legs hanging from the armrest of the sofa to the beat of the music.

Then, he hears it. Noises outside. And at first, he thinks he imagined it. The music’s still playing faintly in his ears, so he reaches up, pulling the headphones down around his neck, staying still as he’s intently listening.

There is a sound of car engine on idle outside. Hyunjin sits up, all thoughts instantly redirected, and moves toward the window. He parts the curtain just enough to peek through and he’s right, a car is parked outside.

He stays there, watching as the passenger door opens and you spill out of it. Your feet are a little unsteady as they step onto the pavement. You’re tipping forward and for a split second, he thinks you’re going to hit the ground. But someone catches you on time, arms wrapping around you and quickly steadying you, holding you.

Hyunjin’s eyes narrow to make out the person but it’s too dark to tell. The man takes your bag, slinging it one on shoulder and then he puts an arm around your waist as he guides you, helping you walk the path leading to your house. It’s when the two of you pushing past the small gate and the streetlight shines on you both, the realization hits him.

The man is Kim Seungmin and you— You’re barely there. Head tilted, body leaning into him, completely unaware.

Hyunjin watches as the two of you move toward the house in slow, careful steps. Without thinking, he stops watching and steps back. By the time they reach the door, he’s already there, hand on the handle, pulling it open before Seungmin even get the chance to unlock the door for you.

Seungmin stops for a moment, eyes sharpen and alerted, filled with glints of suspicion. “Who are you?” he asks, voice cold and full of authority.

Hyunjin lets out a low, disbelieving scoff. Slightly offended that Seungmin doesn’t recognize him as the employee in his company. Instead, he says, “I’m her roommate.”

Seungmin, of course, doesn’t believe in Hyunjin right away. But he isn’t going to give him a chance to ask further either.

“I’ll take it from here,” Hyunjin says, leaving no room for argument. His hands move to your shoulders, steady but firm as he pulls you toward him, easing you out of Seungmin’s hold.

Your body slumps into his, warm and heavy, your hands instinctively clutching at his shirt like you recognize him even if you don’t fully see him.

Hyunjin steadies you against him, one arm wrapping around your back and then he stretches his free hand out at Seungmin. “Bag.”

Seungmin doesn’t move right away. His gaze sharpens, flicking between Hyunjin’s face and the way you’re clinging to him now.

“Bag!” Hyunjin says again, firmer.

Seungmin’s jaws tighten for a brief moment before he decides on giving in. slowly, he takes your bag off his shoulder and hand it over with a sharp, cutting look. Like he’s trying to place something that doesn’t quite fit.

Hyunjin takes it. He offers a tight, almost polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks for bringing her home.”

And before anything else can be said, Hyunjin closes the door right in front of him and the click of the lock echoes louder than it should.

-

Hyunjin doesn’t realize how tightly he’s holding you until he starts moving.

Your weight settles against him, one arm slung around his shoulders, your face buried into the side of his neck as you softly mumble broken sounds that don’t quite form words, just warm breath ghosting over his skin.

“Hey… careful,” Hyunjin mutters, more to himself than to you as he adjusts his grip.

You cling tighter like you might fall if you don’t.

He exhales, steadying both of you, guiding you toward the stairs—but halfway up, you stumble, your steps turning uneven, your body going slack against him.

“Okay, yeah. No more walking.”

He figures that it’s safer if he carries you. So he scoops you up. One arm under your knees, the other braced around your back.

You make a small sound, something between a protest and a sigh, your fingers curling into his shirt as your head lolls against his shoulder.

Hyunjin steadily carries you to the end of the hallway, nudges the bedroom door open with his shoulder before kicking it open with his foot. The room greets him with that same faint scent of your perfume. Of you.

He doesn’t linger on it like earlier, but crosses the room and lowers you onto the bed carefully, like you might break if he’s too rough.

The second your back hits the mattress, you curl instinctively, knees drawing in, arms folding close to your chest, making you appear smaller than you actually are.

Hyunjin finally exhales a long, quiet breath he didn’t know he was holding. “You’re a mess,” he mutters under his breath, though there’s no bite to it.

He sets your bag down on the nearest chair, then crouches at the edge of the bed, fingers moving to your shoes. He takes it off and then the other. He slides them off gently, placing them aside before straightening slightly.

He stands there, just watching you until you get up, hands carelessly yanking at the opening of your blouse.

“It’s hot…” you slur with eyes closed while tugging at the fabric like it’s suddenly become unbearable.

He lets out a short breath, something almost like a laugh. “Yeah? That’s the problem?”

You nod faintly like you’re under a suggestion while still struggling with the buttons.

He shifts onto the bed, gently catching your hands before they make more of a mess of it. “Stop. I got it.”

Your hands go limp under his touch, trusting him to do it for you.

His fingers move quicker, undoing the buttons properly. He keeps his eyes where they should be as he slides the blouse off your shoulders, easing it away from you.

“There. Better?” he murmurs.

You hum something unintelligible but then your hands move to your skirt next, tugging the waistband down your body.

Hyunjin huffs softly, glancing at you. “You want that off too?”

Another mumble. Another soft, breathy, “Hot…”

He shakes his head, a quiet chuckle escaping him. Still—he helps. He’s carefully unzipping it, guiding the fabric down, making sure you don’t tangle yourself up in it. And the second he’s done, he reaches for the duvet, pulling it over you without hesitation.

“Okay. All done now.”

You curl immediately under the covers, like a child seeking warmth, clutching the fabric close as you settle into yourself. Still mumbling. Still drifting somewhere between here and not.

Hyunjin decides to join you on the bed, just lying there with a safe space separating him from you and just watches you. There’s something about you like this— Soft. Disarmed. Unfiltered. Small. The sight does something strange to his chest.

He exhales and shifts closer. A hand propped under his head, the other reaching out to brush your hair away from your face, fingers gentle as they tuck loose strands behind your ear.

“Need anything else?” he asks quietly.

No response except for more soft, broken murmurs.

“What are you even saying, mmh?” he softly asks with a fond smile.

He leans in without thinking, lowering himself just enough so his ear is close to your lips to hear what you’re actually mumbling.

“…you should’ve stayed…”

He goes completely stills, ears still pressing close to your lips and hears it again, softer, almost fragile.

“…you should’ve stayed…”

Each repetition thinner than the last. More desperate.

Hyunjin slowly pulls back, just enough to see your face and that’s when he notices the tears slipping quietly from the corners of your closed eyes, tracing slow, glistening paths down your cheeks.

“Hey…” His hand comes up instinctively, resting against your arm, rubbing gently up and down in slow, soothing motions. “Are you okay?”

Your eyes squeezed for a brief moment like you can’t bear the pain contained behind them and then let out a small sniffle.

“You shouldn’t have left…” you whisper, voice cracking, barely there. Your fingers clutch at the front of his t-shirt. “But you left…”

Then, your eyes flutter open and they look… lost. When you look at him, the sadness in your gaze flickers and breaks, turning into confusion. “…you’re not him.”

The words land softly but they hit harder than anything else tonight. Your grip loosens and falls away. And just like that, you turn from him, burying your face into the pillow, clutching the duvet tight around you.

Soon, your breathing evens out slowly and the tension leaves your body. Sleep takes you quickly this time, but even then, another tear slips free.

Hyunjin reaches out, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek, wiping it away before it can seep into the pillow. “Who hurt you?” he murmurs, voice low, almost swallowed by the silence.

There’s no answer. Just the soft rhythm of your breathing as you sleep soundly, lost in what he hopes is a peaceful dream.

-

Later that night, Hyunjin lies on his back in the guest room, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting lazily over his stomach, staring up at a ceiling that isn’t his. It’s so quiet and still. Yet, his mind won’t shut up.

His mind drifts backwards, uninvited, to months ago. Another night. Another version of you—just as drunk, just as unsteady. He remembers the way you leaned into him back then too, your steps uneven as he guided you toward your door, one arm braced around your waist to keep you upright. You were lighter than you looked, softer somehow when you let yourself fall like that.

“Got your keys?” he had muttered, half to himself as he dug through your bag.

You didn’t answer but clung to him. Your fingers bunching into the fabric of his shirt as your forehead dropped against his shoulder.

“I missed you,” you had mumbled.

Hyunjin had laughed. Dismissively. “Yeah? You trying to flirt with me right now?” he teased.

But you didn’t laugh, you murmured instead, voice small and distant, “You didn’t call… you didn’t say anything at all…”

He remembers frowning a little at that and brushed it off as quickly. Because it didn’t make sense. Because it couldn’t be about him. So he ignored it, focusing instead on the keys finally sliding free from your bag, on getting the door open, on getting you inside.

He had steadied you at the entrance, one hand on your arm, guiding you forward, but you just held on tighter. When he looked at you, he found your eyes glassy and pooled with sadness. A kind of sadness that didn’t belong to the moment.

It wasn’t just drunkenness. It was… missing something. Or rather — someone.

Hyunjin remembers the way his chest tightened, a second before you suddenly leaned in and kissed him. He hadn’t expected it. Not from you. Not like that.

He froze. He knew better not to take advantage of a drunk girl. But something about it, something soft and aching, like you were pouring something into him that had nowhere else to go.

And for a second, he didn’t know what to do with that but he decided to kiss you back. Because he couldn’t not. Because something about it pulled at him in a way he didn’t understand.

And the moment his lips moved against yours, it hit him all at once that this wasn’t like anything he’d had before. There was no game in it. No teasing. No performance. Just… longing. Quiet and heavy, almost desperate. It lingered in the way you held onto him. In the way your lips moved like you didn’t want it to end.

When you pulled away, he remembers the way his body reacted before his mind could catch up. That small, involuntary shift forward. Like he was about to chase it.

“Hey—”

But you didn’t look at him, didn’t say anything but stepped inside and closed the door, leaving him standing there. Alone and confused. And—

He exhales slowly, staring at the ceiling again and that was it. That was the beginning of it all. The kiss that didn’t belong to him. He knows that now and he knew it then too, if he’s being honest.

It all clicks into place now. The things you said. The way you said them. The way you looked tonight when you. And suddenly, all those moments he brushed off don’t feel random anymore. They feel connected like pieces of something bigger he wasn’t supposed to see and now that he has, he can’t unsee it.

A question sits heavy in his chest. Simple yet annoyingly persistent. How deep did it go?

And worse— Is it over?

And then, the last question. The one he can’t shake. The one that settles somewhere uncomfortable in his chest. Is he the one who hurt you?

There’s no answer. Only the quiet. And the distant memory that started it all.

And a kiss that was never really his to begin with.

-

The next morning, Hyunjin sits at your dining table, sketchbook laid open in front of him, a mug of coffee slowly cooling by his elbow. The pencil moves almost lazily between his fingers. He’s not really drawing anything specific. Just filling the page. Passing time.

Every now and then, his eyes drift up. To the staircase. To the room at the end of the hallway and wonders if you have woken up. Or if he should check on you, making sure you’re okay. Once, he almost gets up but then he stops himself. He sits back down and shakes his head lightly to himself. He knows better not to cross boundaries. Instead, he returns to his sketchbook, continues drawing until the clock creeps past nine. And finally, there it is. The soft, dragging sound of footsteps.

Hyunjin doesn’t look up right away. Even though he wants to. But he forces himself to focus on his drawing. Like he’s not been waiting for this exact moment. He hears you walking down the stairs and only then he glances up. You’re barefaced, hair pulled into a messy bun that looks like you didn’t bother fixing it after waking up, looking comfortable in your bed robe. Your arms loosely folded in front of you, looking like shielding yourself more than anything.

Hyunjin puts on his brightest grin and cheerily greets, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” you weakly reply.

Somehow, that feels okay. He sets his pencil down, leaning back slightly in his chair. “Want coffee?”

You shake your head, already moving past him into the kitchen. “No, thank you.”

He watches quietly as you grab a glass, fill it with water, then rummage through the kitchen drawer for the medical box and take it out. He assumes you’re taking an ibuprofen for the hangover. He winces a little in sympathy as you dry-swallow it with a long sip of water.

“Rough night?” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

“Kind of,” you shortly answer with a small smile that barely there.

You move to the fridge next, taking out a few things — Yogurt, fruit, almonds and mixing them into a bowl. Then you bring it with you to the table and sit across from him.

Hyunjin picks his pencil back up, though he’s not really drawing anymore. Just letting the tip hover over the page while he watches you from the corner of his eye. The way you eat slowly. The way your shoulders stay slightly tense. The way you don’t quite look at him.

“You okay?” he asks after a while.

You pause mid-bite and then, without looking up, you answer, “I will be.”

He leaves it at that because pushing doesn’t feel right. Because he knows there’s more under that answer—and also knows you’re not going to give it. Not now. Maybe not ever.

A few more quiet minutes pass before you set your spoon down. “I’m sorry about last night.”

He glances up and finds that you’re still not looking at him.

“Sorry I forgot about the test,” you say again.

Hyunjin huffs a small breath through his nose, shaking his head. “It’s fine,” he says easily.

“And… for, uh—” you hesitate, like you’re choosing your words carefully, “—burdening you.”

That makes his brows lift slightly. “Burdening me?”

“You carried me upstairs.”

Ah. That. He leans back in his chair, lips curving just a little. “Yeah, well, would’ve been completely fine if you didn’t drool on my t-shirt,” he teasingly says.

Your eyes lift to him and for the first time this morning, you really look at him. There’s a flicker there—something between disbelief and faint embarrassment.

Hyunjin grins, pleased with himself. “Just a little,” he adds, holding up two fingers like he’s measuring it.

You don’t take the bait fully and say, “I’ll find time for the rescheduled test.”

His grin lingers, but something in his chest tightens just slightly at the way you phrase it like you’re putting things back into their proper boxes.

“And since we’re not doing it today,” you continue, finally holding his gaze properly now, “you can leave.”

Hyunjin leans forward a little, resting his forearms on the table, grin still in place. “Or I can stay and brighten your day,” he offers lightly.

You continue holding his gaze and honestly, flatly say, “Actually, I’d love to be alone.”

It lands exactly how it’s meant to and Hyunjin understands right away. He smiles and nods. “Yes. Of course.”

He leans back, tapping his pencil once against the page. “I’ll pack up after I finish this.”

You nod and look at him right into his eyes. “Thank you.”

Hyunjin stares back into your eyes, looking past the exhaustion and then he smiles a small, genuine smile. “Anytime.”

And this time, when he looks back down at his sketchbook, the lines he draws aren’t as aimless anymore.

-

Instead of finishing his design, working like the other employees, Hyunjin is busy thinking, planning…

He leans back in his chair, spinning his pen between his fingers, eyes unfocused as they drift toward nothing in particular. His mind keeps circling back to you, getting drunk, coming home in Seungmin’s arms before you clung to him and all the questions that followed after.

Yeah. He’s not getting any answers by doing nothing. So on lunchtime, he heads out, knowing where he can get some answers.

The balcony.

As expected, Gabe is there, leaning against the railing, cigarette between her fingers, chatting with someone.

The moment Hyunjin steps out, the warm air hits him. He makes his presence known by appearing in Gabe’s line of sight. It doesn’t take long for her to notice him.

She lights up and waves her hand at him. “Hyunjin!” she excitedly calls, a curl of white smoke slips past her lips as she grins.

He grins right back, slipping into his charming personality like second nature. “Gabe,” he greets. “Perfect timing.”

She tilts her head, amused. “Yeah?”

He walks over in easy, slightly lifting the extra cup he’s holding in his right hand. “Barista messed up my order. So I had to get another one.”

He pauses just long enough, then adds, “Saw you here and thought—why not?”

Gabe’s brows lift as he hands her the drink and takes it, glancing at the label. “No way. This is my usual.”

Hyunjin feigns surprise like he didn’t calculate every detail of this interaction. “Really?”

“Vanilla latte, extra shot—this is literally it,” she says, already taking a sip.

He shrugs, taking his own drink, hiding the faintest hint of a smirk behind it. “Guess the barista messed up in your favor.”

Gabe hums, clearly pleased, already forgetting to question it further. She taps her cigarette into the ashtray, then stubs it out completely, attention fully on the coffee now.

Hooked!

Hyunjin leans beside her, shoulder brushing the railing, gaze drifting out toward the city like he has nowhere else to be.

“Hot today. Feels like summer just decided to show up overnight,” he begins.

Gabe nods, fanning herself lightly with her hand. “Seriously. I’m not ready for it.”

“Any big plans for summer break?”

She shakes her head slowly, then glances at him with a playful smile. “Nope. Waiting for you to take me out, actually.”

Hyunjin lets out a soft chuckle, turning his head toward her. “Oh yeah?” he says, tone dipping just slightly, teasing but smooth. “You might want to clear your schedule then. I’m very high maintenance.”

She laughs, nudging his arm lightly. “I can handle it.”

He grins but doesn’t let it settle for long. Instead, he takes a sip of his drink, then casually, smoothly shifts the conversation. “I heard you guys had dinner with the CMO the other night.”

Gabe nods, sipping her coffee again. “Yeah, that.”

“How was it?”

“Pretty fun, actually. He let everyone order whatever they wanted. And he’s… surprisingly chill.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, interest mild on the surface. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods as she swallows her coffee. “Once he had a few drinks, he was way more relaxed than I expected. And he can really hold his liquor.”

Hyunjin lets out a small, impressed hum. “Damn. Wish I was there.”

“You would’ve loved it,” Gabe says with a smirk.

“What about Miss Perfect Planner?” he asks, like an afterthought. “Did she have fun?”

Gabe nods without hesitation. “Yeah. Everyone did.”

Everyone. Not helpful. Hyunjin nods anyway, taking another sip of his coffee, giving himself a second so it doesn’t look like he’s digging.

“Anything fun happen?” he casually.

Gabe launches into a rant, talking about drinking games, the juicy office gossips passed around the table, people getting drunk and Hyunjin listens, nodding here and there, but it’s all just noise. Not what he’s looking for.

“Did the CMO play too?” he cuts in at one point.

Gabe snorts. “He played but none of us dare to ask anything.”

Hyunjin huffs a quiet laugh, gaze dropping to his drink. It’s a dead end.

He’s about to let it go, chalk it up as a failed attempt when Gabe suddenly gasps mid-sip.

“Oh!”

Hyunjin’s eyes flick to her immediately. “What?”

She lowers her cup, eyes widening slightly like she just remembered something. “At one point, he kind of hinted that they were closer than I thought.”

Hyunjin keeps his face straight. Then he tilts his head, brows lifting in mild curiosity. “Oh?”

Gabe coyly shrugs, but there’s something knowing in her expression. “I don’t know, I just got the vibe. Like… there was something there before. Romantic, maybe.”

Hyunjin lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head like it’s just gossip. “What makes you think that?”

“I just can tell from the way they were tense around each other. Like some kind of weird magnetic pull. I could misinterpret the whole interaction but I’m sure there’s something there,” she vaguely shares then laughs it off after, like it’s not a big deal.

But Hyunjin hears it and secretly files it. So it’s just as mystery to Gabe as it is to him.

“Also, we were about to share a taxi,” Gabe suddenly adds, hand moving the coffee cup in circular motions, sending the ice cubes clinking against each other. “But Mr. CMO insisted on taking her home.”

“Ah, very gentleman of him,” Hyunjin beams, his smile a little strained.

Gabe cluelessly nods in agreement. “Right?”

Hyunjin hums, gaze drifting back out to the city. On the outside, he looks unbothered. But inside, he’s putting the pieces together. But not enough to know everything. There’s more.

This isn’t something he’s going to figure out from the sidelines. If he wants answers, he’s going to have to get them from you.

Hyunjin turns his head at Gabe, smiling as he asks, “What’s Miss Perfect Planner doing today?”

-

The bar isn’t open yet. Lights are half on, casting a soft amber glow over polished surfaces and stacked chairs. There are movements of staff going back and forth, boxes being stacked and opened.

Hyunjin’s gaze sweeps over the place and eventually lands on you. You’re in the middle of the room, talking to one of the staff, your voice is steady yet dripping of authority. Your posture is straight, your hands occasionally gesturing as you give instructions.

“…no, move that to the left—yeah, a little more. We need space for the installation tonight.”

Hyunjin leans against the bar counter, setting his elbows back against it, arms loose at his sides as he watches.

There’s something about this version of you. The way you carry yourself, confident and in control. The way you don’t second-guess yourself for even a second. The way you don’t hesitate nor fumble. This version of you knows what she wants and gets it.

And somehow, Hyunjin finds that very attractive.

You finish talking and turn on your feet, your expression just a fraction when you see him there.

Hyunjin’s grin slides into place—effortless, just the right amount of smug. The one that always gets under your skin. And sure enough, he notices the tiny shift of your expression, that flicker of annoyance from few feet away. Weirdly, that’s what he’s been expecting the most.

Cute. He mutters inside his head. Then he lifts a hand and waves.

You sigh and can’t hear it, but he knows it. He watches as you excuse yourself and walk over, each step slow and measured, until you stop just a step away from him.

With no greeting, no smile, you immediately ask, “How do you know I’m here?”

Hyunjin only grins in respond, letting you figure out the answer yourself.

It takes you a second to finally get it. “Ah, Gabe…” you sigh.

Still leaning back against the counter, completely unbothered. Hyunjin lightly asks, “Done yet?”

You look at him in confusion and despite it, you answer anyway, “I just need to inform the owner about the overnight installation. Then I’m done.”

He nods, like that’s all he needed to hear. “Cool. I’ll wait.”

Your brows knit slightly. “For what?”

He straightens just a little, but the grin stays. “I’m here to drive you home.”

You stare at him for a second and sigh again—this time he definitely hears it. But you don’t argue. “Just… Wait here,” you say instead, already turning away.

Then you stop after a few steps, turn back and point at him. “Don’t do anything. Wait here.”

Hyunjin’s grin widens. He lifts his hand in a mock salute, posture straightening just enough to sell it. “Alright, boss.”

That earns him another look somewhere between unimpressed and barely tolerant. You shake your head slightly before walking away.

Hyunjin leans back against the counter, arms folding loosely now, eyes following the way you slip right back into that role, like he never interrupted in the first place. His eyes are on you again, drawn by that strange attraction of watching you bossing people around.

Boss. The word lingers on his tongue, amused.

-

Hyunjin drives the car just above the allowed speed and keeping it steady with one hand gripping the steering wheel. His other hand propped against the side of the car, fingers mindlessly rubbing his lips.

You’re in the passenger seat, angled slightly toward the window, phone in hand, thumbs moving fast across the screen. Focused. Locked in. Like the world outside of whatever you’re typing doesn’t exist.

Hyunjin glances at you and then back at the road. “You know, you really shouldn’t be working this hard for just one paycheck.”

As expected, there’s no response. Your fingers keep moving, the tapping sounds of your fingers on the screen filling the space.

He clicks his tongue softly, but there’s a hint of amusement in it. He tries again with a different approach. “Are you hungry? We could stop somewhere. Get dinner.”

You don’t even look up as you say, “I’m not that hungry.”

Hyunjin pouts slightly, eyes still on the road. “That’s a problem. My plan involved talking over food.”

“You can skip the food. And just talk,” you flatly reply, still typing.

He lets out a soft, exaggerated whine. “Then at least give me your attention.”

The sigh comes and finally, you stop typing. You set your phone down on your lap, turning your head slightly toward him. “Okay. You can talk now.”

Hyunjin grins to himself, eyes still forward. “Okay,” he brightly says.

He takes a second to gather his thoughts before speaking. “You know, there’s only a week left in the test program,” he begins.

“I told you. I’ll find time for the rescheduled—”

“Hey,” he cuts in immediately, shushing you. “It’s still my turn to talk.”

You close your mouth, letting him finish and he glances at you for a split second, seeing the way you actually listen. The way you fall quiet. It does something small and strange to his chest.

Cute.

For a brief moment, he forgot what he’s about to say. He clears his throat to put his focus back on and says, “This time, I decide when the next test is.”

You open your mouth and close it the second you realize that it’s still his time to talk.

“And before you say anything, we’re in this together. I get a say too,” he adds.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the way you hesitate—like you’re searching for a counter, for something to push back with. But nothing comes.

“Okay,” you quietly say with a hint of reluctance.

Hyunjin nods once, satisfied. Then lets a moment pass—just enough to make it feel natural.

“It’s tomorrow night, by the way.”

Your head turns fully this time, eyes narrowing slightly. “But it’s so sudden,” you groan.

“I’ve already checked your schedule and I know you’re free tomorrow night,” Hyunjin easily replies.

You sigh, slumping on your seat. “Gabe…” you correctly guess.

He hums and nods.

You stare at him like you’re trying to read between the lines. “What’s your plan this time?”

Hyunjin’s lips curve, slow and knowing. “Just dress nicely.”

“Why do I have to dress nicely?” you ask in confusion, brows knitted together. “We’ll be in the house.”

He finally glances at you only to shake his head. “Actually, we’ll go somewhere… romantic?” he teasingly says.

You groan at that and flatly reject it. “No!”

“Hey, we agreed. Mutual decision,” he reminds you, holding out a fist at you.

You don’t punch it as a form of agreement, but cross your arms, leaning back into your seat. “Yeah, okay.”

“Eight works for you, right?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and tilt your head up. “Yeah,” you answer, lacking enthusiasm.

Hyunjin grins anyway. In victory. “Tomorrow night. At eight.”

“Okay,” you repeat, completely flat.

“And dress nicely,” he adds.

This time, you don’t answer but pout, annoyed and somehow, that makes him grin even more.

By the time he pulls up in front of your house, Hyunjin feels like time passes too quickly. He watches as you unbuckle your seatbelt, gather your things, shoving your phone into your bag. Then you turn to him and softly say, “Thanks for the lift home.”

Hyunjin knows that he can’t let this moment pass like this. He moves quickly, leaning in just enough to press a kiss on your cheek. Quick, featherlight. Gone before it can become anything else.

He pulls back with a grin already in place. “Too fast. You can’t stop me,” he says, amused.

You stare at him, a hand hovering over your cheek. “You’re so—”

“Wholesome? Charming?” he cuts in immediately, trying to finish the sentence for you.

Your eyes narrow and turn into a glare. “Annoying.”

He laughs under his breath. “Yeah, that too.”

You shake your head, pushing the door open and step out. But before you close it, he leans toward you again and softly smiles. “See you tomorrow night.”

You subtly roll your eyes but he notices the smile threatening your face and you hold it back well. Then, you shut the door and walk away.

Hyunjin stays, watching you the whole time as you walk down the path to your house. You stop before the door, rummaging through your bag and then unlock the door. You push the door just enough to let yourself in and to his surprise, he finds you looking at him before finally, closing the door.

Only then Hyunjin turns the car engine on and starts driving.

-

Tomorrow night is here and Hyunjin stands in front of his mirror longer than he needs to. Tie in hand. Shirt already on. Top buttons undone. He tilts his head slightly, studying his reflection like he’s trying to read something deeper than just appearance.

“Alright,” he mutters under his breath.

One pull and the tie tighten just right. The suit jacket comes next, shrugged on without hassle, shoulders settling into it like it was made for him. He adjusts the cuffs, runs his fingers along the fabric, brushing away imaginary creases.

It’s not his usual look but tonight, he wants to look good. No, wait— he knows he always look good no matter what but for tonight, he wants to look like he means something to you.

A quiet exhale leaves him as he reaches for his watch, fastening it around his wrist. The subtle weight grounds him, pulls him back into the moment.

Because underneath it all, he knows that tonight isn’t just a date. It’s not just another test. It’s a way in. A way to figure out what the hell happened between you and Seungmin. A way to see if it’s over. Or if you’re still standing in it without realizing.

He grabs his keys from the counter, spinning them once around his finger out of habit before catching them in his palm. Excitement flickers under his skin now because despite everything, he’s looking forward to it.

Hyunjin glances at himself one last time in the mirror and smirks. “Let’s see how long you hold up tonight.”

And with that, he heads out and steps into the night.

-

Hyunjin cuts the engine, the low hum of the car dying into a quiet that feels… anticipatory.

For a second, he just sits there, fingers tapping once against the steering wheel before he exhales and leans forward, catching his reflection faintly in the windshield. He adjusts his collar, smooths down the front of his suit. Then he’s out of the car.

The night air is cool as he walks up your path, hands sliding into his pockets for a moment before he pulls one out to knock. Once. Twice.

Soon, there’s a faint sound of your footsteps inside, approaching and something in his chest tightens. Anticipation, maybe?

The door opens and for a moment, Hyunjin forgets every witty remark he had prepared. You stand there exactly how he pictured and somehow still better. Like the good girl you are, you dressed nicely as he asked. Hair pulled into that neat bun that leaves your neck bare, elegant, untouchable… except it’s not, not really. The neckline of your dress dips just enough to make his eyes flick in one inquisitive glance before he drags them back up to your face like he didn’t just do that.

He leans against the doorway anyway, a slow whistle slipping past his lips. “Wow,” he drawls, eyes dragging over you again, intentional this time. “If I knew you’d take me this seriously, I would’ve asked you to dress up like this way sooner.”

You don’t even flinch. Just that usual unimpressed look and then you slowly let go of your hand on the door. “I just need to grab my purse,” you say flatly, already turning away.

Hyunjin grins to himself as he follows you inside. “You’re forgetting something,” he says.

You stop, turning slowly, suspicion written all over your face. “What?”

He doesn’t answer, but disappears into the guest room like he it’s his own house which, at this point, he kind of does. The drawer slides open, the box sitting right where he last put it. He takes it, shuts the drawer, and walks back out.

Your eyes follow the box the second it appears in his hands and there it is, that narrowing of your gaze he’s grown weirdly fond of. He places it down on the coffee table with a soft thud, flipping it open like he’s unveiling something important. His fingers move with purpose as he picks out tonight’s choice. Which is also part of the plan.

He holds it out to you. “This. You’re forgetting this.”

The box has an all-white design with pink accent. On the center, written in bold silver, it says LUVE – App-Controlled Wearable Vibrator. You take one look at it and scoff. “This isn’t for tonight.”

He tilts his head, unfazed. “Says who?”

“We’re supposed to agree on the product.”

“And I agree on it,” he says immediately, lips twitching.

Your glare sharpens and he holds himself back from smiling. “Last time, you chose. I agreed. Now it’s my turn. You should agree,” he says, or rather, gaslights.

You get quiet all of a sudden and he can see the hesitation. The way your fingers tighten just slightly before you exhale, already knowing you’ve lost this one. You take it from him anyway, reluctant.

Hyunjin watches you like he’s won something as you move to slip it into your purse, but his hand shoots out, catching your wrist lightly. “Wear it now.”

You snort, like it’s ridiculous. Like he’s joking.

He just looks at you, eyes unwavering. Letting you know that he’s not.

That’s when you realize. “You’re serious?”

“Yes,” he answers without a beat.

Your eyes narrow, searching his face. “What are you planning?”

Hyunjin glances around, exaggerated, like he’s considering his answer carefully, dragging it out just to get under your skin before he looks back at you with a mischievous grin. “A fun night.”

You don’t buy it. He knows you don’t. But you also know you’re not getting anything else out of him.

“Be a good girl and wear it,” he adds lightly, already steering you toward the stairs, hands settling on your shoulders before you can argue again, “or we’ll be late.”

You groan under your breath, but you go anyway. Your feet dragging, steps heavy, each one louder than the last like you’re protesting through sheer attitude.

Hyunjin watches you disappear upstairs, a quiet chuckle leaving him as he leans back against the wall, slipping his hands into his pockets again. As he waits, he digs through the manual sheets and follows the instruction on it with his phone.

A moment later, you finally appear at the top of the stairs, hands smoothing your dress, that same unimpressed look on your face — And gosh, you’re cute when you’re annoyed. Too cute.

He’s stepping forward, stopping at the base of the stairs with one hand extended toward you like something out of a period drama.

You hesitate. Of course you do. Like you’re actually considering not taking it.

Hyunjin doesn’t give you the chance. He takes your hand anyway, fingers wrapping around yours. And says, in a tone sudden theatrical, a hint of mock elegance curling through it. “Come, milady. The night awaits.”

You sigh, roll your eyes but you fall into step beside him, close enough that your shoulder almost brushes his. The coo night air greeting you both as you step outside and you linger for a moment to lock the door.

Hyunjin jogs toward the car, unlocking it and walks around to your side before you can even reach for the handle. “Get in,” he says, offering his hand again.

You take his hand but your gaze remains suspicious. “You’re being awfully nice.”

Hyunjin’s other hand keeping the car door open for you. “What? I can’t treat my partner well?”

“Partner,” you repeat flatly.

“In testing,” he adds quickly, but the grin lingers like he knows exactly how that sounded.

You shake your head and get in before he can say anything worse. He makes sure you’re fully settled before closing the door carefully.

The car fills with a quiet kind of tension, engine humming low, city lights flickering past the windows as he pulls out onto the street. Hyunjin doesn’t speak right away. Neither do you. And it’s strange… because for once, it doesn’t feel like comfortable silence. It feels loaded. Like both of you are waiting for something to start.

His fingers tap lightly against the steering wheel and after a while, he glances at you. Then down. Then back to the road.

“So, how does it feel?” he says, too casually.

Your brows knit. “What?”

He flicks his eyes toward the purse on your lap. Hinting at what you’re wearing underneath. “You know what I’m asking,” he lightly says.

He notices how you slightly get flustered. You turn your head toward the window, pretending to watch the passing lights. “It’s fine.”

“Just fine? That’s not very detailed feedback,” he presses his lips together, stopping himself from smiling.

“It’s not even turned on,” you mutter under your breath.

“Doesn’t mean you don’t feel it.”

“It’s there,” you admit finally, fingers fiddling with the strap of your purse. “That’s all.”

Hyunjin hums, satisfied with that. But he doesn’t push further. Not yet. Instead, he leans back slightly into his seat, one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting loosely near the gear shift.

In a poor attempt of shifting the conversation, you ask, “Can you tell me where are we going?”

Hyunjin keeps his eyes on the road, the city stretching out ahead like something waiting to unfold and calmy says, “You’ll see.”

-

Hyunjin doesn’t slow down as he walks into the hotel lobby that is humming with quiet luxury, he walks confidently like he’d been here many times before. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, catching the way your gaze flicks across the space, taking in the reception desk, the chandeliers, the way everything looks just a little too expensive for a casual night out. Your lips part slightly, like the thought is forming, but you don’t say it yet.

Good. You’re starting to get it. He doesn’t leave you guessing for long. He’s guiding you toward the reception desk, he leans in just enough and says, “We’re staying the night.”

And discreetly, he slides the voucher across the desk. The receptionist accepts it right away, reading fast of what’s written inside and nods. Then she processes it right away.

He waits for the reaction, the scoff, the eye roll, the sharp little comment you usually throw at him. But nothing comes. When he glances at you again, you’re looking ahead, expression calm, like you’ve decided to tuck every question neatly into the back of your mind for later.

That’s new. Hyunjin exhales a quiet laugh under his breath. He checks in smoothly, exchanging a few polite words with the receptionist while you stand beside him with hands resting lightly at your sides. When the keycard is finally handed over, he takes it with a nod, slipping it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

Then he turns to you, fingers finding yours, threading together with deliberate ease. “Come on, darling.”

The word rolls off his tongue so naturally it almost surprises even him. Almost. He catches the tiny roll of your eyes, the barely-there exhale through your nose and it pulls a grin out of him. There you are.

He leads you toward the elevator, stepping inside just as the doors slide open, guiding you in before pressing the button to 8th floor.

“Isn’t your room on the 20th floor?” you mutter, brows knitting just slightly, suspicion finally slipping through.

Hyunjin leans back against the mirrored wall, hands sliding into his pockets, grin widening. “We should have dinner first, of course.”

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Hyunjin pushes himself off the wall and, without missing a beat, takes your hand again. He steps out first, guiding you into the corridor that leads to the restaurant.

It’s quieter here in the restaurant. Intimate in a way that presses in close with the low lights, crisp linens, the fancy glassware and everyone is dressed up for the occasion. Like these matters. This place matters.

Hyunjin pulls your chair out before you can protest, one hand lightly brushing your back as you sit. It’s subtle but it lingers just enough to make his presence known. He takes his seat across from you, long fingers reaching for the menu, though his eyes flick up almost immediately, checking and observing you. Still too calm.

He expected resistance. A witty comment. At least a glare. Instead, you just sit there, flipping through the menu like you didn’t just follow him into a hotel for the night. It throws him off a little, but not enough to stop.

You both place your orders, the server nodding politely before slipping away, leaving behind the quiet hum of the restaurant and whatever this is between you.

Hyunjin leans forward then, elbows resting on the table, lowering his voice into something conspiratorial and dramatic. “I might’ve made a mistake,” he whispers loudly.

Your brows knit instantly. “What mistake?”

He glances around, as if checking who might overhear, before leaning in even closer. “You’re right. I can’t afford this place.”

Your mouth drops open and for a split second, he sees the crack in your composure. It’s so good that he can’t hold it in and Hyunjin bursts into laughter, head tipping back, shoulders shaking as he grins at you like he’s just won something.

“I’m joking,” he says, grinning from ear to ear.

Your expression hardens immediately. “Hyunjin!” you hiss.

He’s still smiling. “What?”

“Stop joking and tell me honestly.”

There’s something about the way you say that makes his grin soften just a little. And that’s when he realizes you’re actually worried. Worried for him. He tilts his head, studying you. “You don’t trust me?”

You shrug, noncommittal, eyes already drifting away from toward the chandeliers, the elegant arrangement of the space, anything but him.

And for a moment, he lets you. Then, casually, he explains, “I do commissioned art, you know. Pays pretty well if the client’s annoying enough. And I model sometimes.”

You snort at that and wrap your hand on your glass of water, still chuckling quietly,

Hyunjin pouts immediately. “I’m serious.”

“Mhm.”

“I am.”

But you’re not even looking at him anymore, too busy taking in the place, the elegant decorations, the atmosphere.

And Hyunjin… Hyunjin forgets the conversation entirely because now he’s the one staring. At the way the light catches your skin. The way your dress curves along your frame. The way your hair is pulled up just enough to leave your neck exposed. He wonders if you know what you look like right now. He wonders if you’d care if you did. His gaze lingers a second too long.

When you turn back to him, catching him in it, he doesn’t even try to look away, doesn’t pretend. You narrow your eyes slightly. “Was this your plan all along?”

“Which part?” he calmly asks.

“Doing the test in the hotel.”

“Maybe,” he says with an easy grin.

You lean back in your chair, unimpressed. “Huh!” you scoff a humorless laugh.

“I got bored of your guest room.”

“You said it has a nice view. And you were the one who insisted on staying.”

“And now I’m insisting on upgrading.”

That earns him a subtle shake of your head, like you’ve already given up trying to argue with him.

Good. He likes it better when you stop fighting him.

The server returns then, placing a bottle of red wine on the table, expertly pouring into both glasses. The deep ruby liquid catches the light, the aphrodisiac smell of it wafting around you both.

“Enjoy your evening,” the server says before stepping away.

Hyunjin reaches for his glass immediately, lifting it with a small tilt of his head toward you. There’s something different in his eyes now. Less teasing. More intent.

“To another successful test?” he offers.

You sigh—but you still lift your glass. Still meet him halfway. “To another successful test,” you echo.

The glasses clink softly and it settles between you like a promise neither of you fully understands yet.

-

Hyunjin waits until you finish the last bite of your tiramisu before he makes his move. He’s patient about it, watching the way your spoon drags through the soft layers, the way your eyes soften just a little at the taste. He almost forgets what he came here to do, almost lets himself stay in this version of the night where it’s just dinner, soft lighting, and you across from him.

As if you know that this dinner is not the end of it, you set your spoon down, and ask, “What now?”

You have a sip of water before asking again, “We head to the room?”

Hyunjin smiles. He shakes his head at your suggestion and lightly, teasingly says, “Not yet. I’ve got something more fun in mind.”

The way your brows knit together makes something flicker low in his chest. He reaches for his phone, opening an app.

You don’t notice at first. Or maybe you do, but you don’t think much of it. Not until he turns the screen toward you, thumb hovering, expression far too pleased with himself.

“What is that?” you carefully ask.

Hyunjin leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table like he’s about to share a secret. “The app to control the vibrator you’re wearing.”

He sees the way your eyes widening, your posture going still, your breath catching just a fraction too late. “You, what? But— but when?” you ask, slightly stammering.

“I downloaded it earlier. Followed the instruction on the manual. Pretty straightforward.”

For a second, you just stare at him and then at the app. Speechless. And God, he shouldn’t enjoy that as much as he does.

You lean in, voice dropping, tight. “You can’t be seriously testing it… here?”

He tilts his head, a grin slowly blooming on his face. “Kind of.”

Your hand moves fast like you’re about to grab his phone, or maybe shove it away but he’s faster. Hie pulls his phone closer, out of your reach. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you,” he assures you.

But his assurance seems to only do the opposite on you. You don’t relax. If anything, your glare sharpens. “Hyunjin—”

“Rules first,” he cuts in, bright again, like this is a game. Like this is harmless. “I know you like rules.”

You hate that look and he loves that you hate it.

“For every question I ask,” he continues, tapping the screen lightly, “you must answer honestly.”

Your lips part, ready to shut this down.

“And if you lie—” he adds, almost lazily, “I turn it up.”

“I didn’t agree to this,” you protest in hushed tone.

Hyunjin beams and announces, “First lie of the night.”

His thumb presses the screen and he knows it’s turning on. He can see it from your reaction — the smallest jolt in your shoulders. The way your breath dips. The way your fingers tighten around the edge of the table like something just caught you off guard beneath the surface.

Level one. He’s sure it’s barely anything. But enough for one.

You swallow, trying to compose yourself, and he almost laughs at how quickly you’re trying to rebuild control.

“We agreed on it, remember?” he lightly says.

You let out a quiet, frustrated sound, but you don’t argue again. Because you know he’s right.

Hyunjin leans back, satisfied and begins talking like he’s hosting a game show. “Alright, let’s start easy.”

You narrow your eyes at him but you brace yourself for it, knowing that there’s nothing easy about his intention.

“Do you think I’m charming?”

Your answer comes instantly. “Not at all.”

Hyunjin doesn’t even hesitate to decide. “Lie.”

Level two. This time, your reaction is noticeable — your spine straightening, your lips pressing together. You expected it, but expectation doesn’t soften the sensation, doesn’t dull the way it hums just beneath your composure.

He watches you carefully before moving on to the next question. “Question number two,” he says, still with gameshow voice. “Are you happy doing this test program with me?”

A beat later, you answer, “Not really.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Another lie.”

Level three. Your fingers curl against the table now. Your legs shift slightly beneath it. Still composed but he can see the cracks starting to form.

Good. Very good. Hyunjin leans forward again as he’s done with the warm-up questions and now, time to get down to the real business. “What’s your relationship with Seungmin?”

There’s a quick twitch of your lips, like you finally discovered the true intention of all this. “He’s my superior at work,” you easily answer.

Hyunjin’s thumb moves but you’re faster this time. Your hand shoots forward, grabbing his wrist, stopping him from moving the toggle to the next level.

“I’m telling the truth,” you snap and quickly lower your voice after, aware of where you are.

Hyunjin grins apologetically and says, “Sorry. I get too excited.”

You let go of his hand but your eyes locked with his.

“Alright, let me rephrase the question,” he says as he leans closer. Closer than before. “Are you in a romantic relationship with him?”

The silence settles a fraction too long and then, you answer, “No.”

Hyunjin exhales through his nose, almost amused. “Lie.”

Level four. This time, it hits. He sees the way your breath falters, the way your composure slips for just a second, the way your thighs press together beneath the table like you’re trying to ground yourself.

“Hyunjin—” you start, a little too loud, before catching yourself. Your voice drops immediately. “I told you the truth.

He tilts his head and watches you. Then rephrase the question again. “Were you in a romantic relationship with Seungmin?”

Your silence is louder than any answer and he doesn’t wait to slide his thumb until it settles on level five. Your hand immediately grips the edge of the table now. Hard. Your lips part,but all that comes out is just a sharp inhale, like the sensation is climbing faster than you can contain it.

He shouldn’t feel this pull in his chest. This strange mix of satisfaction and something darker. “Time limit,” he reminds softly.

The glare you make could cut him but as always, it unfazed him as he takes it to level six.

That’s when you break. Not completely. More noticeable now. You bite your lip, hard, your shoulders tensing, your breath uneven now. One of your legs crosses over the other under the table, like you’re trying to hold yourself together in a room full of people who have no idea what’s happening just inches away from them.

“Okay. Okay—” you say quickly, breathlessly, like you just ran a mile.

He shows a little mercy by waiting and you look at him like you hate him a little. Then the truth comes out in a blurt of words. “We secretly dated when we worked together. For three months.”

There it is. The truth he’s been dying to know, but he’s not done. “What happened then?”

You hesitate again and Hyunjin turns merciless once more, he takes it to level seven. A sharp breath spilled out of your parted lips, your hand pressing flat against the table, your composure slipping in a way you can’t fully hide anymore.

“Hyunjin—stop—”

“Answer first,” his voice is quieter now but full of assertiveness.

You look at him and for the first time tonight, he doesn’t see annoyance, or defiance. He sees pain in them. Like recalling the memory evoking the hurt all over again.

“He didn’t end it. He just left. He stopped calling and didn’t say anything…” your voice cracks, just slightly. “Nothing. For two years.”

The words hang there between you and suddenly, this isn’t a game anymore. Your eyes flick back to his, softer but tired. “Turn it off,” you firmly demand.

Hyunjin looks at you for a long second and taps the button to turn it off.

The silence that follows is immediate, almost deafening. You exhale like you’ve been holding your breath for minutes, your shoulders dropping, your body slowly unwinding from the tension. You adjust in your seat, trying to regain yourself, trying to put the walls back up.

But he’s already seen behind them and now he can’t unsee it.

You look at him again and this time, there’s no fight left in your voice. “Now, can we leave?”

-

The elevator is not empty when it arrives on the 8th floor. Hyunjin steps in first, guiding you in with a hand on the small of your back, but the moment the doors slide shut, people start to follow—one after another, until the space fills with low chatter, the soft chime of each passing floor, the faint jazzy music humming overhead.

Somehow, in the middle of all that, it still feels like it’s just you and him. He shifts without thinking, angling his body so you’re pressed into the corner, his back slightly turned toward the rest of the elevator, shielding you from wandering eyes, from accidental brushes. From everything, except him.

You’re so close that he can see the faint tension still lingering in your expression, the way your lips press together like you’re holding something back, the way your breathing hasn’t quite settled.

Hyunjin waits until you look up, until your eyes are on him and when you do, he leans in. Then stops just a breath away. “I didn’t say I was done,” he murmurs.

Your eyes flicker with betrayal, something wounded passing through them so quickly it almost disappears. But he sees it and ignores it. Because if he lets himself stop now, he won’t get what he came for.

His hand slips into his pocket, pulling out his phone like it’s nothing, like this is just another step in whatever game he’s built around the two of you. “We’ll pick up where we left off,” he adds quietly.

Your expression tightens but you don’t argue. Instead, you daringly stare into his eyes, challenging him.  

As he mentioned, he turns it on, thumb sliding to level six. A soft, involuntary gasp slips past your lips, it’s barely there and you swallowed quickly, but your body gives you away in ways your voice doesn’t. Your hand shoots back, gripping the metal handlebar behind you, knuckles tightening as the sensation returns, stronger, deeper, harder to ignore.

Hyunjin watches every little shift, every breath and then leans closer. “I’ve only got one more question,” he says, voice low, threading through the quiet noise around you. “So you’d better answer honestly.”

You don’t respond but look at him with annoyed, tired and betrayed eyes.

He smiles as he murmurs, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Your silence holds but your gaze doesn’t waver.

He inhales air before asking the one question: “Do you still love him?”

The way it hits you makes it seem like you didn’t expect it at all, maybe you do but you hide it well. But the way your expression changes is enough for him to know this one matter more than the rest.

You hesitate longer than before and that’s all the patience he has. His thumb slides the toggle to level seven. Your grip tightens. Your shoulders stiffen, just for a second, like your body betrays you before your mind can catch up.

Hyunjin tilts his head, watching you closely. “Let me try that again,” he murmurs.

He leans in closer, closer to you ear so you can hear it properly. “Do you still love Seungmin?”

You inhale slowly, like you’re trying to steady yourself, trying to rebuild something that’s already slipping. “No,” you answer, voice faltering just a little.

Hyunjin doesn’t move right away but watches your eyes and waits until he sees it— that tiny falter, that flicker that tells you’re not telling the truth.

He leans in, lips brushing close to your ear now. “Still bad at lying,” he whispers.

Level eight. Your hand flies to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt like you need something solid to hold onto. Your body instinctively leaning into him, seeking the warmth, the closeness.

The elevator still going, climbing higher and higher. There is a dozen of people in this enclosed space but no one notices, except him.

His arm slips around your waist, steadying you, pulling you just a little closer enough that he can feel the tension running through you. “Answer me,” he murmurs, almost like he’s pleading.

Your eyes are different now—glossy, unfocused at the edges, like you’re fighting two battles at once. One inside your head. One inside your body. Yet, your lips stay sealed. Stubbornly so.

Hyunjin exhales slowly as he has no other option now, but drives you off to the edge, closer to the truth.

Your body reacts before you can stop it. A sharp inhale through your nostrils, your fingers fisting at his shirt now, your weight shifting into him like you don’t even realize you’re doing it anymore. Your breathing quickens, uneven now, your control slipping in pieces and finally— you break.

“I… I–I don’t know,” you whisper, voice breaking in the middle.

The truth comes out rushed but fragile. And all of a sudden, everything else fades as he processes it, as he tries to understand that the answer is not a yes, not a no either. It’s something that still lingers, unfinished.

The moment he turns it off, your body gives in immediately—melting into him, your forehead pressing into his chest, your breath uneven as you try to recover, to gather yourself again.

His hand tightens slightly at your waist, holding you steady. Protective now. He leans down, lips close to your ear again. “Thank you for being honest,” he murmurs.

Hyunjin gives you another moment to reorganize your breathing, to steady yourself before he leans in again and smirks. “But it wouldn’t be very gentleman of me to not let you finish,” he adds softly.

Before you can process his words, Hyunjin moves it to the highest setting. Level ten.

Your body tenses against him, fingers clutching at his shirt again, your breath catching hard this time as the sensation rushes back, overwhelming, sudden, impossible to ignore.

Hyunjin doesn’t give you time to think, he pulls you close until you’re flushed against him and kisses you. Then, he slowly opens his mouth, swallowing the low, breathless moans you can’t let escape, every breath you lose to the intensity, every tremor that runs through you as you cling to him, as the world narrows down to this moment, this space, this dangerous line he keeps pulling you across.

His arm tightens around you, holding you close and closer until he can feel everything, the tension, the heat, the faint vibration through the layers of clothing and the way your body reacts to it despite yourself.

Soon, it crests and he knows for sure from the way you tense, then soften, your grip loosening just slightly as everything washes through you, leaving you warm, unsteady, breathless. He breaks the kiss but his arms still tight around you, keeping you close and upright. Because he knows you wouldn’t be able to stand on your own right now.

The elevator dings as it arrives on the 20th floor. Hyunjin quickly adjusts his hold on you, arm firm around your waist as he half-guides, half-supports you out of the elevator. Your steps are unsteady, your breathing still uneven, your body not fully back under your control. Yet, no one notices, no one looks twice.

Hyunjin keeps you close as he walks because whatever game this started as—

It stopped being just a game somewhere between your hesitation… and “I don’t know.”

-

Hyunjin barely waits for the elevator doors to close behind you before guiding you down the hall. Your steps are still uneven from the way your hand clings to his, in the slight drag of your pace and instead of pulling away, you hold on to him. He doesn’t say anything about it, but leads you to the door, slips the keycard in, and pushes it open.

The soft click feels like a quiet welcome. He turns slightly, offering his hand again out of instinct more than anything and this time, you’re reaching for him without the slightest of hesitation like you don’t want the distance between you to exist at all. That alone does something to him, something deep and dangerous.

He lets you step in first and he follows right after, the door shutting softly behind him. The keycard ends up somewhere on the table by the entrance, forgotten almost immediately.

He doesn’t turn on the lights as the pale moonlight and city lights spilling into the room through the wide glass windows in a dim, restless glow.

And you— you stand right in the middle of it, quiet and still. A silhouette cut against the skyline. Beautiful in a way that Hyunjin can’t comprehend, making him exhales slowly as he tries to wrap his head around it, around what he’s looking at.

Hyunjin exhales again, slower, trying to steady something inside himself and failed. Because the next second, he’s already moving, crossing the space between you in a few quick steps, hands coming up to cup your face without hesitation. And then—

Your lips and his collide in a kiss, raw and immediate. It takes you a second to catch up to him, your breath hitching, your hands finding his jacket like you need something to anchor yourself and then you’re kissing him back just as hard, just as desperate.

Hyunjin’s grip tightens in reaction. He shifts, guiding you backward, step by step, until your back meets the cool surface of the glass. The city stretches out behind you, distant and unaware, while everything here narrows down to the heat building between your bodies.

Knowing you’re running out of breath, Hyunjin pulls away only to shift his attention somewhere else. His lips moving, trailing down your jaw, along your neck, slow and searing, like he’s mapping you out with every brush of his plush lips.

Your breath breaks on his shoulder and his name almost forms, but soon dissolves into something softer, something he feels more than hears.

He doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. His hands move with him, sliding along your sides, your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you into him until there’s no space left between you at all. Until you feel the proof his need of you, straining through his dark slacks.

The friction alone is enough to make you react — he feels it in the way your body moves along in subtle, pulsating motions. In the way your head tilts back just slightly as he finds that sensitive spot on your neck.

“Hyunjin—” you sigh, barely there.

Then he pulls back just long enough to look at you and notices how your eyes are different now. Hazy and open, filled with wanting.

In that moment, something in him snaps. He plants his mouth on you again, harder and deeper now, he swallows the gasp you let out in reaction. Then he moves again, dragging his lips lower, traveling down your body and planting little, searing kisses along the way. He’s taking his time, like he’s savoring every inch of you, every reaction you give him.

Until patience runs out. Until want takes over again. Then, he drops to his knees. His hands find the hem of your dress, pushing it up in one smooth motion, his breath catching just slightly at the sight of your lacey underwear with the vibrator still attached to it, the way it clings to your sex, the way it frames everything he’s been trying not to think about all night.

“God…” he exhales under his breath. Half disbelief. Half something darker and urgent.

His fingers hook at the fabric, impatiently pulling it down to get it out of the way, to remove the last barrier between him and what he wants.

Your underwear slides down your legs in one smooth motion, it makes a faint thudding sound as it hits the floor and suddenly, the room feels smaller now, filled with tension. He glances up at you again like he needs to see your face, your reaction, your permission without asking for it out loud.

And the way you look at him with eyes wide and dark with lust — that’s all the answer he needs.

He puts a hand behind your thigh, pulling it to the side, making space between your legs. His eyes instantly flick down and focused on the heating, wet mess. His tongue darts out in instinct, licking his lips as a thirst grows in him. A thirst for you. In a low, sultry voice and laced in amusement, he murmurs, “What a mess!”

The first touch is of his fingers running between your slick folds, he lowly sighs as your essence coated them and then, glides them upward, meeting your bundle of nerves still pulsating with desire.

He looks up, playful glints flashing through his brown eyes. “Were you expecting it that much?” he teases, fingertips circling on your clit now.

You bite your lower lip, hips begin to subtly moving, chasing his touch despite it. Your back is slightly arching, but you will yourself to keep leaning against the glass.

“Look at you…” he murmurs, but there’s no mockery in it. Just something rougher. “Can’t even stand still.”

His mouth replaces his hand next. He leans in but doesn’t dive in right away. His mouth hovering close, testing how long can he resist the temptation and as expected, it only lasts a few seconds before he caves in, surrendering himself to this sinful indulgence.

One taste. One taste and all the restraint in him goes out of the window. His nose pressing against your pubic bone as he dips lower, deeper. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking on it gently, making your eyes fluttering as your moans cutting through the silence that hangs in the room.

Hyunjin grabs your leg by the back of your knee and lifts it, enough to allow him more access, more depth to please you with his mouth. He steadily holds your leg against his ribs as he pulls away for a second just to dive back in. His mouth attached to your cunt, harder and relentless now. Then he lets instinct take over, letting the sounds you make guide him instead of thought.

You don’t even try to hold it — your body arching now, chasing that hot and slick of his mouth on yours. Your hand flying to his shoulder like you need to hold onto something.

In the haze of the moment, he opens his eyes and watches as your eyes screwed shut, mouth parted open with moans spilling out of you, breathless and broken in places. He feels the tremble of your legs, of your body needing to meet its earned high.

Everything about it pushes him further, makes him stay right there, focused in the way he draws those reactions out of you, like he’s chasing something only you can give him.

And yes, Hyunjin will give it to you and you can have it.

And in return, he lets himself have it and lets himself want. Lets himself take in the way you lean into him, the way your footing stumbles, the way your breath stuttering. There’s no rush because he’s done playing.

Now, he just wants you.

-

It takes everything in him to stop. He’s far from done though you’re close to finish. But he stops.

Hyunjin’s mouth glistening wet with your essence when he finally lets go. He’s still chasing his breathe as his head tilted up, looking for your eyes. They instantly meet in a shared heat and stays there for a second longer. He allows himself a moment to take in the sight of you because something about this—about you like this—feels dangerously close to something he won’t be able to walk away from.

He slowly puts down your leg and places his hands on each side of your hips. “No, not yet,” he mutters.

You seem confused for a brief moment. Then, your hand slides down from his shoulder to his collar, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him upward and pulling him against you. As if you want him close, wanting him to come back.

He rises in one smooth motion, hands moving to your waist now, pulling you flush against him as his mouth crashes back onto yours. The kiss is different now, hungrier and needier. Consuming.

You kiss him as fiercely, hands roaming around his body — his broad shoulders, chest, abdomen, pushing and pulling until he finally lets you have what you want. The jacket slides off first, discarded somewhere behind him without a second thought.

He smiles against your lips at your impatience and you’re too busy to notice, too busy working at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers a little rushed, a little desperate. He lets you take control for a moment, watching the way your brows pull together in concentration, the way your lips part slightly as you focus—God, even that is enough to drive him a little crazy.

“Careful,” he murmurs, catching your wrist gently when you nearly skip one. “You’ll ruin the whole thing.”

You glare but it softens just as quickly when he leans in again, brushing his mouth along your jaw, distracting you on purpose this time. And it works.

The rest comes off quicker after that—his shirt, your dress, his slacks, your bra, layers slipping away between kisses, between touches that grow erratic, more certain with each passing second.

There’s nothing careful about it anymore. Just heat. Just hands learning, relearning, mapping each other out in real time. He doesn’t remember crossing the room. Only that at some point, his hands are guiding you until the edge of the bed hits the back of your knees.

You falter slightly and he’s there, lowering you down. He follows right after, doesn’t give you space to drift away, to think, to second-guess. His body settles over yours, one hand braced beside your head, the other tracing down your side like he’s trying to feel every inch of you at once.

Not willing his eyes to stray away from you even for a second, his hand wildly groping around the side of the bed. Once he finds the button, he presses on it and in a second, warm lights spilling onto the bed. But it hits differently on you.

You’re glowing even under the dim of light. Your body is heavenly even what you’re about to do is far from grace. And when he pulls back just enough to look at you, at your bare body against the white sheets, he realizes that this what he’s been dreaming of every night.

His hand suddenly hesitates to touch you, afraid that it’d shatter what he thinks is a just his imagination. When his palm pressed against the warmth of your ribs, he sighs in relief. This is real.

His fingertips tracing a light path as he moves his hand up the valley between your breasts. Knuckles brushes your chin just a fraction before his thumb swipes across your lips, feeling the softness of them, the warm of your breath escaping in between them. The rest of his fingers frame the side of your face, keeping you still as he looks at you as long enough to imprint this in the back of his mind.

“You’re—” he starts, then stops, shaking his head slightly like he can’t even find the right word.

Instead, Hyunjin shows his admiration another way. He leans in, pressing his lips against your, soft and warm, melting into one tender kiss. Soon, he’s drawn into your warmth, into the softness of your skin under him and lets himself fall, collapsing on top of you. Your lips stay locked the whole time. Your legs shift around him instinctively, inviting. It nearly undoes him until—

“The condom,” he mutters breathlessly against your lips. “Just a second—”

His body feels heavy, or rather, reluctant to get away from you. Once he found it lying on the floor, he crouches down and reaches into the inner pocket for his wallet, the packet of condom tucked in one of the compartments.

He couldn’t walk faster than this, impatient to feel your body against him again. The foil packet glinting under the low light and Hyunjin stops on the edge of the bed, ripping through the wrapper and steadying himself as he works with the thin material. Then, carefully rolls it down his length. He takes another look at it, making sure it’s securely on before turning on the bed, facing you.

You’re still there, patiently waiting for him and he can’t make you wait another second. He hovers above you, lowering his mouth on you. The kiss is full of intention now, hungrily but steadier. Controlled.

“I’m going in, yeah?” he mutters when he pulls away from the kiss.

You give him a small nod and open your legs wider, giving him the permission. 

Hyunjin settles himself between your legs, fingers smearing the lubricant down his protected length. Then, he aims it to your cunt, the head pressing just lightly against your entrance. instead of entering you, he pushes his length upward, using the tip to tease your clit.

Your limbs slithering around the sheets, hands crumpling the fabric, toes curling and loosening, hips lifted off the mattress. You’re so pliant, so sensitive to his touch and he likes that. So much.

When he’s sure you’re ready, he enters you, pushing just an inch or two into you. Your body arching, surprised by sudden fullness, the stiffness, the shared heat in this very moment. His eyes remain on where your bodies connected, in awe at how your little hole can take him, the size and the girth. The depth.

He rubs the side of your thigh as if he tries to soothe you as he pushes another inch and stops. Then, he allows the groans he’s been contained behind his gritted teeth to spill. A louder groan slips past his lips when he feels you clenched around him.

“Do that again… and I’ll lost it,” he mutters with eyes closed, a fair warning.

You don’t feel threatened at all, nor warned. You put a hand on the nape of his neck and pull him close, close enough for you to kiss him. Your legs wrapped around him again, easily like they belong there in the first place. In the process, you’re sending him just a tiny bit deeper into you. “I’ll lost it… I swear,” he warns again but loses its bite now.

Hyunjin’s mouth stiffens against you yet you continue kissing him, taking his lower lip between yours and gently sucking on it. He moves in instinct now, opening his mouth wider for you, tongue twirling with yours, letting you have as much of his taste as you want.

“Hyunjin,” you suddenly call with your lips attached to the corner of his lips.

He tilts his head down and looks at you with heavy-lidded eyes. “Mmh?”

You run your fingers down his sharp jaw, hesitating for a second before saying, “More.”

“More?” he asks, dark brows furrows in confusion

You tighten your legs around his waist, answering his question without actually saying the words.

His lips stay parted open but all that comes out is, “Oh?”

You put your hands on his shoulders as if bracing yourself. Then, you say it again. “More.”

“More, okay,” he repeats like a broken robot. He’s malfunctioning for a moment before finally shifting, hands bracing on each side of you and then, pushes more of him into you.

Your hips lift higher off the mattress, hands gripping the sides of your pillow. Yet, you say again, “More.”

He doesn’t question it this time. He shifts again and this time, his hands gripping your hips. His eyes flick down to where you tightly wrapped around his thick, hot length, take him more than before. It doesn’t feel right to keep pushing so Hyunjin pulls back and then enters you again, slower now.

“Oh…” you breathlessly moan, hands moving to cup your breasts and squeezing on them.

“Fuck,” the profanity falls without him meaning to. The sight of you bare and wet, stuffed with his cock and touching yourself — calls for it.

His body moves out of instinct, hips moving forward, putting more of him, or rather, all of him into you. He can’t stop himself, his body knows what it wants and won’t stop until it gets it.

“Argh—” The groan cuts off as he closes his mouth, lips forming a thin line. Like letting it spill would make him losing it.

Your grip on his shoulders tightens, fingers digging into the flesh and he doesn’t mind it, he barely feels the pain when the pleasure of fully buried inside you overpowers everything. “It’s all in now, it’s all in…” he mutters. Half disbelief. Half in something raw and dark.

He exhales sharply, dropping his forehead to yours for a brief second, like he needs to steady himself. The two of you stay like that. Just existing, adjusting and connecting. Enveloped in a tenderness of the moment that feels like it’s destined for just the two of you.

When he opens his eyes, he finds your face contorted in both pain and pleasure. He doesn’t know which one is dominating. He cups your jaw, leaning in until his nose brushes with yours and softly asks, “Hey, still with me?”

You deeply, shakily inhale air and your eyes fluttering open, looking a little dazed like you’re still deciding if this is a dream or not.

“Still with me?” he asks, even softer.

“Yes,” you murmur, but it’s more like a sigh.

“Okay,” he says with a smile, hands finding yours and lacing them together beside your head. “Stay with me.”

He leans down again, capturing your mouth in another kiss—slower yet deeper. Slowly, he lets go of one hand to slide down your side, settling on the dip of your waist. He keeps it there as he begins to move in slow, almost lazy thrusting.

“Okay?” he asks, making sure you’re ready for it.

You nod repeatedly and wrap your free arm around his shoulder, fingers tangled in the hair on the back of his head.

With that, Hyunjin allows himself to add intensity to his thrusting and set a steady pace. His eyes flick down to check and the sight of his cock slipping in and out of you only undo him further. “Fuck—” The profanity spills free this time.

He kisses you to stop himself from cursing more, planting his lips to part of you that is within reach. He drags his lips down the column of your throat, lips gently sucking, teeth lightly nibbling and tongue licking the salt on your skin.

Somehow, his body quicken the pace without him meaning to. Or maybe, it does and that he’s just following what his body wants and needs. The hand gripping your waist slips under you, keeping your body arched and allowing him that delicious angle to penetrate you deeper.

You react to this new position in a mix of whimpers and moans, but he knows you like it, you enjoy it from the way your walls tightening, fluttering around him. His hips continuously moving, hammering into you hard enough that the skin-slapping sounds grow louder, louder than your shared breath and moans, endlessly echoing in the room, lewd and arousing.

He decides to continue the trail of kiss down your chest, dragging his lips around your areola before finally, taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking on it, latching on it as he incessantly thrusting into you, harder and rough around the edges.

Between your breathless moan, you call his name again and that’s when he lets go of your nipple, leaving it raw and glistening wet with his saliva. “Yeah?”

You don’t talk but pull him into a kiss, a kiss that drowns him further and deeper into you. into the pleasure, the crackling heat, the intimacy of it all. He feels it before he understands it.

Somewhere between the way your hands stop fumbling and start holding, somewhere between the way your breaths fall into the same rhythm—something changes.

It slows. Not the intensity. But the intention behind it.

Hyunjin moves with you, not just over you—each motion answered, each pause met halfway, like the two of you are learning a language neither of you knew you spoke. Your fingers slide up his back, keeping him close. And he stays.

God, he stays.

Every time he thinks about pulling away, about teasing, about dragging this out the way he usually would—he doesn’t. He can’t. Because this doesn’t feel like a game anymore. It doesn’t feel like testing, or teasing, or chasing a reaction. It feels like— you.

Your name slips from his lips without him meaning it to, low and unguarded, like a whispered prayer you didn’t mean to hear. He presses his forehead to yours, eyes closing for a second as he exhales, trying to steady himself, but it only makes everything sharper. More vivid. More felt.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, not quite a command.

You obey anyway like you always do and when your eyes meet his, it’s like something in his chest gives way. Because there’s no pretending in that look anymore, just you, right here with him.

The world narrows and softens, in a way it wasn’t before, in a way that there’s something that pulls instead of pushes. The two of you move together, breathing in sync, eyes remained locked in a heated, steady gaze.

The heat builds, rising, drawing both of you into it together. Your hand tightens against him. His grip answers without thought. And when you fall apart, you fall apart around each other, at the same time. Overwhelming pleasure crashing over both of you in the same breath, the same heartbeat, the same quiet unraveling.

Hyunjin stills against you, breath catching, his grip tightening just slightly before easing again as the moment washes through him. His forehead drops to yours, eyes closing for a brief second like he needs it—like he needs to feel all of it without distraction. Without distance.

When he opens his eyes again, you’re right there. Still close. Still his. He studies your face, more open than he’s ever allowed himself to be with anyone else. There’s no performance left in him. Just the truth. And something in his chest shifts so deeply it almost scares him.

He brushes his thumb along your cheek again, reverently. “Yeah…” he exhales, barely above a whisper.

Not to you, but to himself. Because now he knows that all the chasing, all the games, all the things that used to feel enough— They don’t even come close to this. To you.

Hyunjin leans in, pressing his lips to yours again, ever so gently like he’s afraid that if he lets go too quickly, this moment might disappear with it. When he pulls back, he doesn’t move far. He stays there, close enough that your breaths still mix, his hand still resting against your face, thumb brushing absentmindedly like he’s memorizing the feeling.

I’m not done with this. he murmurs quietly inside his head. His gaze flickers between your eyes and then steadies. Not with you.

And this time—

It doesn’t sound like a game.

Not even a little.

-

Soft light spills through the curtains, painting the room in pale gold and muted shadows. Hyunjin stirs before he fully wakes, his senses catching up one by one—the warmth, the weight, the steady rhythm of breathing that isn’t his own.

It settles a second later. You. You’re still here. Pressed close against him, your back fitting against his chest like you’re cut from the same piece, your body warm and relaxed beneath his arm. His hand rests low on your stomach, fingers splayed, like he fell asleep holding you and never let go.

He doesn’t dare to move. Not even an inch. Not when you feel like this—soft, warm, real in a way that makes last night feel less like something fleeting and more like something… kept. His face is tucked into the crook of your neck, your scent intoxicates him, clinging to his skin, his pillow, his thoughts. It makes him breathe slower, quieter, like even the smallest movement might break whatever fragile peace has settled between you.

So he stays there, letting his eyes drift over you—what little he can see from this angle. The curve of your shoulder, the line of your neck, the way your hair spills messily across the pillow. You look… peaceful. Too peaceful for someone who spent the night tangled up with him.

And God, you’re beautiful like this.

He lets himself smile because if this is all he gets—this quiet moment before everything back to controlled normal again—he’ll take it. He’ll take it and hold onto it for as long as it lasts.

And maybe that’s why, when you start to stir, your eyes fluttering open like you’re being pulled out of peaceful dream— Hyunjin reacts before he can think and shuts his eyes instantly. He pretends to still sleep. But he doesn’t really stop watching. There’s the faintest sliver of space where his lashes part just enough to catch the way you just lay there, staring at the ceiling and looking disoriented, trying to piece together where you are.

He sees the confusion and the realization creeping in. He closes his eyes fully when you turn your head toward him and waits. He feels your hand grabbing the arm around your waist and move it away from you. Gently, but not uncertainly.

Hyunjin lets out a low groan, shifting like he’s just been pulled from sleep, turning his face deeper into the pillow as if he’s unaware of anything else happening. He plays it well from years of practice.

You’re already moving and soon, he can hear the rustle of sheets, the quick, almost frantic movement as you scoot away, creating space where there wasn’t any just seconds ago.

Hyunjin rolls onto his back slowly, one arm coming up to shield his eyes from the light as he squints toward the room. “What time is it…” he mutters, voice rough with sleep.

You don’t answer. Instead, he hears you continue moving around, searching for something on the floor. He turns his head just slightly, watching through half-lidded eyes as you grab the first thing within reach—his shirt—and pull it on.

The corners of his mouth twitch. He has to stop himself from smiling, seeing you in his shirt and the way you’re buttoning it wrong. Too fast. Too distracted.

Hyunjin lets out a quiet breath, dropping his arm from his eyes as he finally looks at you properly. “Morning,” he says, voice hinted with playfulness.

He thought you’d just ignore it like before. But then, you turn to the side and say, “It’s way past morning.”

He hums in response, stretching slightly, like none of this affects him the way it clearly affects you. “I’ll order breakfast anyway,” he says easily, reaching for the landline phone. “What do you—”

He barely finishes his sentence as you’re disappearing into the bathroom and close the door behind you with a soft click.

The room quiets again and Hyunjin exhales slowly, staring at the ceiling for a second before turning his head toward the closed door. Then, finally, he lets himself smile. Because for all your rushing, your avoiding, your pretending— you didn’t leave, or run. And that means more than you probably realize.

-

Hyunjin drags a hand through his damp hair as he steps back into the room, halfway through fastening the belt of his bathrobe when he looks up and finds you already dressed. The dress from last night sits perfectly on you again, like nothing happened. Like the hours between then and now didn’t exist. Your back is to him as you gather your hair and twist it up into a neat bun.

Hyunjin’s brows pull together slightly, the belt of his robe tightening under his hands as he finishes tying it. “You’re in a hurry,” he says, tone light, but strained in places.

You don’t turn around immediately. “I'm leaving.”

Hyunjin exhales through his nose, tilting his head as he watches you in the mirror now, catching your reflection instead. “Stay. Relax for a bit,” he says, like it’s obvious. Like it shouldn’t even be a question.

You slowly turn on your feet and this time, he can tell that you have your guard back up, already halfway out the door even though you haven’t taken a single step yet. “You need to check out before four,” you point out.

Hyunjin pouts, the expression coming easier than it should, like he’s refusing to let the moment turn into something stiff and distant. “That’s still five hours away,” he counters, almost immediately, like he’s been waiting for an excuse.

The conversation gets interrupted by the knocking on the door. Hyunjin’s lips curve, glancing toward the door before looking back at you. “And breakfast just got here,” he adds, a hint of satisfaction slipping into his voice.

He doesn’t wait for you to argue. He turns, crossing the room and pulling the door open. The server wheels in the tray and then sets everything neatly on the small glass table by the window—the same window where the city had stretched endlessly behind you last night. Now it’s all morning light, soft and almost innocent.

Hyunjin thanks him absently, barely paying attention as the dishes are arranged—coffee, fruit, warm plates, more than enough for two people who didn’t plan on staying this long.

But he notices the way you pause. The way your movements slow just slightly as your eyes drift toward the table.

He doesn’t say anything at first. He walks over, pulling out one of the chairs with a quiet scrape against the floor before dropping into the other, stretching his legs out casually like he’s got nowhere else to be. Which—right now—he doesn’t.

His hand lifts, patting the empty chair across from him. “Come on,” he says, softer this time. Less teasing. More coaxing. “Sit and eat with me.”

Then, with a pout and a pleading tone, he adds, “Come on. I can’t finish all this myself.”

He sees the conflict, the resistance… the temptation. But he decides not to push harder. He just leans back, reaching for his coffee like he’s already won, like he knows exactly how this will end.

A few seconds pass and then the chair across from him shifting, scraping against the floor. A second later, you sit on it.

Hyunjin doesn’t look up right away, but the corner of his mouth lifts anyway. Because you stayed.

-

Hyunjin watches you from across the small glass table, his coffee long forgotten in his hand.

Sunlight spills through the window, catching on the curve of your cheek, the soft line of your neck, the way your hair, still a little undone from sleep, falls just slightly out of place. You don’t notice it. You don’t fix it. You just sit there, quiet and composed, taking a small sip of your coffee before biting into your toast like this is any other morning. Like last night didn’t happen. Like you didn’t fall apart around him. Like he didn’t.

There’s something almost… dangerous about how normal this feels.

Hyunjin knows that it’s best to not let you slip back into your default self for long. His phone slides into his hand, thumb unlocking it without much thought. He opens the site, choosing the product on the list and the evaluation form loads immediately.

He places the phone down between the two of you, letting it sit there for a moment while you take another bite, completely unaware. Or maybe you are aware and choosing not to look.

“Isn’t it time,” he says lightly, almost casual, “to fill the evaluation form?”

You pause mid-chew and you shift, like you’ve been pulled out of something warm and dropped back into what this supposed to be. A test. You go quiet for a second before swallowing, fingers tightening slightly around your cup. “I don’t have my laptop,” you say.

Hyunjin simply lifts his phone, turning the screen toward you with the evaluation form already open. “I’ve got it.”

You reach for it instinctively—but he pulls it away from your reach and then shakes of his head. “Since you’re the one experiencing it, I’ll do the asking.”

Just like that, you straighten on your seat. Posture shifting, expression smoothing out, like you’ve slipped into your default setting.

It makes him press his lips together to keep from smiling. “Alright,” he says, glancing at the screen. “First question. Comfort rating?”

“Nine.”

He nods, typing it in. “Stimulation intensity?”

His eyes lift from the screen, watching you and this time, you make him wait as you take your time finishing your bite of toast. He almost huffs a quiet laugh. Then—

“Nine,” you finally answer.

He types it in anyway, though something about the answer feels like it means more than just a number. That despite everything, you’re actually enjoyed the product. He doesn’t linger on the thought too long and moves on to the next question. “Describe your experience using the product,” he reads the question verbatim and almost teasing in how serious it sounds.

You make him wait again as a blueberry disappears between your lips. You chew and swallow. Then, take a sip of water. “The vibration is smooth and strong. Good range of levels. The design is discreet. The magnetic clip is secure and easy to wear,” you talk fast and efficiently, as expected of you.

He’s impressed how you’re actually taking this seriously, how you’re not just testing but also providing useful, insightful feedback. He nods repeatedly, typing quickly and he feels the need to contribute as well, so he adds his own — Good Bluetooth connection.

“Additional feedback?” he prompts.

This time, you don’t stall. “I like the smooth silicone material. But I wish it could be quieter. And more variation in patterns would be better.”

The elevator moment instantly flashes through his head and Hyunjin can’t help, but lets out a soft, amused sound. He types in your answer and adds his own note at the end. Would be better with long-distance control.

Then he leans back slightly, crossing one leg over the other, reading the next question. “Final comment?”

That’s when you look at him, still serious and composed. And somehow, something about it unnerves him. “I think it’s a great product. Good for public play. Ideal for couples.”

He nods slowly, a grin tugging at his lips despite himself. Of course you’d phrase it like that. Instead of being blunt and say what a great fucking sex toy it is. He turns the screen toward you, letting you read it over.

You scan it briefly before shaking your head just a little. “Save it as a draft. I’ll rewrite it later,” you calmly instruct.

He lets you take over then because paper works, forms, words —you’ll do it better at it than him. Then, he puts down his phone back on the table.

The conversation fades after that and breakfast resumes. Like the two of you didn’t just reduce something intense into numbers and bullet points and neat little sentences. Like it didn’t mean more.

But then, you clear your throat and look at him. “It means there’s only one product left to test, right?” you say.

Hyunjin stills because he knows what you’re really saying. This is ending soon. Time closing in. Chances slipping out of his fingers. He swallows air and the way his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat is noticeable.

“Yeah,” he answers, barely a whisper.

And for once, he doesn’t smile.

-

Product Evaluation Submission Participant Product Testing Program Product Name: LUVE – App-controlled wearable vibrator. Product Code: LUVE-0810 Participant 1 ID: P-260319 Participant 2 ID: P-260320 Date of Evaluation: Friday, April 10. 1. Rate Comfort (1–10) Participant 1: 9 Participant 2: 9 2. Rate Stimulation Intensity (1–10) Participant 1: 9 Participant 2: 9 3. Describe Your Experience Using the Product The device sits securely and comfortably during extended wear. The material is soft against the skin, and the magnetic clip ensures stability without causing discomfort. Slight bulkiness may be noticeable depending on outfit choice. The vibration is smooth and strong, with a reliable range of intensity levels. Bluetooth connectivity remains stable throughout use, allowing uninterrupted control. 4. Additional Feedback The silicone material feels high-quality and comfortable. However, the device could benefit from quieter operation for more discreet use. Additional vibration patterns and more varied intensity modes would enhance the overall experience. Long-distance control functionality would also be a valuable feature. 5. Are you satisfied with the product? (Rate 1-10) Participant 1: 10 Participant 2: 10 6. Would You Buy This Product? (Rate 1-10) Participant 1: 10 Participant 2: 10 7. Would You Recommend This Product To Others? (Rate 1-10) Participant 1: 10 Participant 2: 10 Final Comment A well-designed and effective product, particularly suited for couples and interactive use. Its discreet form and strong performance make it ideal for controlled environments as well as more adventurous, public settings. Submission Status: ✔ Successfully Submitted

-

✨ COCKY: CHAPTER FIVE is available on Patreon ✨

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[channlust]

cyber-sēx!

or: oh great. your roommate bailed on you right before the new month's payment, and you need to find a new roommate asap. lucky for you, chan came (literally) to your rescue. he's charming enough, and more importantly, pays rent on time. you've agreed to split rent by half, but rent won't be the only thing getting split in half, because he's hiding a big secret. and no, not just the one in his pants.

warnings: MDNI!!! contains heavy sexual content, camboy!chris x roommate!reader, porn with some plot, perv!reader, masturbation, piv, mānhandling, spānkïng, hāirpulling, too many kinks , kinda switch!chan but he's mostly a dom daddy dwdw, I'm a cocky chan truther so yk what's coming, a sprinkle of fluff and banter.

wc: 11k

a/n: loosely based off this drabble

"You're fucking kidding me." You stare at the text message. Three sentences that might as well be a bomb dropped in the middle of your living room.

Hey, sorry for the short notice, but I’m moving in with my boyfriend at the end of the week.

I know rent’s due soon, but I kinda already spent my half on the security deposit for our new place.

Good luck finding someone else!

shit

Rent is due in nine days, and your bank account isn’t exactly overflowing.

You’ve never lived alone before. Couldn’t afford it even if you wanted to. And the thought of scrambling to find a new roommate in a week makes your stomach twist.

You're halfway through drafting a frantic "roommate needed ASAP" text to your groupchat when your phone buzzes.

it's one of your few friends who actually bothers to check in.

Heard about your roomie bailing. Absolute bullshit.

Anyway I know a guy. Chill as hell, works freelance, needs a place.

You'd vibe.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the keyboard. The last thing you want is some rando bringing chaos into your already crumbling life.

But then your landlord's terse "rent due on the 1st, no exceptions" text flashes in your mind.

Fine. Give him my number.

Chan texts you thirty minutes later. His messages are polite. Full sentences, proper punctuation, none of that monosyllabic grunting.

He suggests meeting at the apartment tomorrow afternoon to check the place out, and you agree.

The next day, you're scrubbing the bathroom sink when the doorbell rings. Chan stands in the hallway holding a paper bag that smells like garlic and herbs. "Figured we could talk over lunch," he says, smiling like this isn't weird at all.

Up close, he's so much cuter than you expected, blond hair, unfairly big broad shoulders, dressed in a blank tanktop that showed them off perfectly.

You blink at the take out bag, then at Chan’s easy grin.

There’s no nervous energy radiating off him, no awkward shuffling — just this unsettling calm, like he’s already decided he belongs here. “Uh,” you say, wiping your damp hands on your pants, “you didn’t have to—”

“I know,” he interrupts, already toeing off his sneakers without waiting for an invite. The scent of roasted garlic and rosemary spills into the apartment as he breezes past you toward the kitchen. “But food makes everything less weird, right?”

You trail after him, you don't know whether to be annoyed or charmed.

Chan unpacks the food containers, grilled chicken, some kind of herby rice, roasted vegetables that don’t look like the sad microwave steam bags you usually survive on.

He slides a plate toward you. “Eat first, then interrogation.”

“Interrogation?” You stab a piece of chicken, watching him warily.

Chan shrugs, mouth already full. “Standard roommate shit. ‘Do you snore?’ ‘Are you a serial killer?’ ‘Will you steal my leftovers?’” He swallows, grinning.

“The answer’s no, no, and only if you leave them unlabelled.”

The food is homemade stupidly good, and Chan’s presence is… unsettlingly comfortable.

By the time you’re scraping the last of the rice off your plate, you’ve learned he does something vague with digital marketing (“Basically, I convince people to buy shit they don’t need”), he actually enjoys doing laundry, and he likes to cook.

“So,” Chan says, stacking the empty containers, “you wanna show me around, or should I just start claiming drawers?”

The tour is quick — your apartment isn’t exactly sprawling — but Chan makes appreciative noises at the closet space and tests how sturdy the bed frame is (#whatdatmean).

When you hesitantly mention rent, he waves a hand. “Half’s fine. I’ll pay first and last upfront if you want.”

You stare. “You don’t even know the amount.”

Chan shrugs, leaning against the kitchen counter “Doesn’t matter. I’ve got it.” He pulls out his phone, taps a few times, and, before you can protest, your own phone buzzes with a notification.

It’s a Venmo payment for double what you were about to say rent costs.

Your mouth opens, then closes. “You—what? That’s too much.”

“Nah.” He pockets his phone, grinning at your baffled expression. “Consider it a ‘sorry for being weirdly pushy’. ”

You don’t argue. You can’t argue — not when your bank account is currently breathing its first sigh of relief in months.

A girls got priorities, and he doesn't really seem to mind. it's a win win scenario.

~

The first month was… strange. Not bad, just strange. he was genuinely nice, easy to talk to. it wasn't long till the initial awkwardness — if there was any — wore off. you'd become something sort of friends, and both of you settled into a quiet rhythm.

he'd left cash for rent in a neat stack on the kitchen counter on first of the month, slightly more than his half again.

When you tried to give him the extra back, he just waved you off.

You caught glimpses of his routine. disappearing into his room at odd hours, the low murmur of his voice through the walls late at night.

And then there was the day you came home early.

You weren’t supposed to be back until ten, but your shift ended early, and the bus was miraculously on time for once.

The apartment was quiet when you unlocked the door, just the hum of the fridge and the faint creak of the floorboards under your feet.

You’d barely set your bag down when you heard it — a low noise from Chan’s room.

Your fingers froze on the zipper of your jacket. The sound came again, breathier this time, followed by the slick, rhythmic sound of skin on skin.

you thought it was a girlfriend he never told you about.

The idea punched a weird, hollow ache into your ribs — which was stupid, because it’s not like you had any claim on him.

Still, you stood there frozen in the hallway, his door slightly ajar, listening to the sounds of his pleasure like some kind of creep.

You backed out of the apartment, easing the door shut with just the softest whisper of the latch catching. Your pulse hammered in your throat as you ducked into the stairwell, pressing your back against the cool concrete wall.

The rational part of your brain screamed at you to stop being weird, to just walk back in like a normal person. But the irrational part — the part currently in charge — was too busy replaying the sounds spilling from Chan’s room to listen.

You get out of the building and circle the block twice, three times, counting cracks in the sidewalk. The air smells like rain that hasn’t fallen yet, and you bask in that atmosphere till roughly an hour has passed.

When you finally drag yourself back inside, the apartment is quiet. Chan’s door is shut tight, the shower running, and no girlfriend in sight.

she must've left early.

You freeze halfway to your room when the shower shuts off. your feet are planted still go to your room, go to your room

but you weren't quick enough, and a few seconds later, Chan emerges with only a towel slung low on his hips.

He's startled when he sees you, droplets flicking off his hair as he jerks his head up. “oh hey—” His voice is casual before you cut him off, "shit—sorry!" your face heats up at the sight, your eyes wander, trailing down his toned chest that still had water droplets running down, before snapping your head in the other direction.

was he always this muscular?

and you can't help but notice that there are no hickeys on his neck, no marks on his arms, and surprisingly put together for someone who just had his girlfriend over less than an hour ago.

"no no— you're good." he reassures with a smile, "you're back early."

You swallow hard. “Yeah. Shift got cut."

Chan leans against the doorframe, his damp hair curling at the ends. You try not to stare at the way his towel clings precariously to his hips, but your gaze keeps flicking downward anyway, betraying you.

"Everything okay?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.

"Y-yeah," you stammer, fingers twisting in the hem of your jacket. "Just—uh. Busy day."

Chan hums, nodding. His eyes flick over your face, lingering a second too long on your flushed cheeks before he grins. "Cool. I was just gonna make some food if you’re hungry."

The casual offer throws you off. You were expecting — what? Awkward silence? Averted eyes? Not this easy warmth.

but you just nod dumbly. "Yeah. Food sounds good."

he pushes off the doorframe, padding toward the kitchen. The towel rides up slightly with each step, revealing the sharp cut of his hip bones, and you have to physically bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making a noise.

“You good?” he calls over his shoulder, like he can feel your stare burning into his back.

“Fine,” you squeak, following at a safe distance, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. The kitchen tile is cool under your socked feet, a welcome distraction from the heat crawling up your neck.

Chan hums again, rummaging through the fridge with one hand while the other keeps his towel secured. The muscles in his back flex as he leans forward, and you’re suddenly very interested in the color of your sponge bob socks.

“Leftover pasta okay?” he asks, pulling out a container with a rattle of plastic. You nod mutely, watching as he moves around the kitchen, his bare feet slapping against the tiles.

The stove clicks to life, the hiss of gas filling the silence between you. Chan leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, “So,” he starts, “how was work?”

You blink. “Uh. Fine. Boring.” The words tumble out too fast, your pulse jumping when Chan chuckles. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and suddenly you’re hyperaware of every inch of space between you.

he scrapes the leftover pasta into the pan, the sizzle of garlic and butter filling the silence between you. His towel shifts dangerously low with each stir, but he doesn’t seem to notice — or maybe he does.

The corner of his mouth twitches when he catches you staring, and you snap your gaze to the ceiling like it’s suddenly fascinating.

"You know," he says, voice light, "most roommates don’t freak out when they see each other half dressed." The wooden spoon clinks against the pan as he scrapes the edges.

"I wasn’t freaking out."

Chan laughs, "You literally yelped like I pulled a knife on you." He glances over his shoulder, eyes dragging down your body in a way that makes your knees weak. "Unless you’re into that."

The pasta sizzles loudly in the pan, drowning out the choked sound that escapes your throat at Chan’s words. "I—that’s not—"

Chan turns fully now, abandoning the stove, and the towel dips dangerously low. His smirk is infuriating, "Relax," he murmurs, stepping closer, "Just teasing."

You laugh nervously, the sound too high pitched, too obvious. "I'm just gonna—" You jerk your thumb toward your room, already backing away. "Change into something more... home-y."

Chan raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Home-y,"

"yea—!" your voice cracks "y'know comfortable....home clothes"

Then you gesture vaguely at his towel, your voice cracking slightly. "Are you— uh, gonna put on actual clothes before we eat? Because I'm pretty sure health code violations apply to apartments too."

Chan glances down at himself, then back up at you, "Why?" He grins, tilting his head. "Distracted?"

"Yes—no," you sputter, crossing your arms tightly over your chest like armor. "I just don’t want your—" You wave a hand wildly in the general direction of his hips. "That—near my dinner."

Chan laughs, a full blown laugh, and you take that chance to bolt for your room, shoulders hunched as if that’ll make you smaller, less noticeable.

The door clicks shut behind you with a click, and you press your forehead against the cool wood, exhaling sharply.

"And turn the heat down!" you call out, voice too high,"Unless you want to burn the house down!"

Another laugh, muffled through the door. "Yes, mom," Chan drawls, the playful lilt in his voice making your cheeks burn hotter.

The stove clicks as he adjusts the flame, the sound followed by the soft thud of his footsteps padding down the hall. You squeeze your eyes shut, listening to the creak of his bedroom door, the rustle of fabric as he presumably — finally — changes.

You peel yourself off the door, fingers fumbling at the jacket of your shirt. The fabric clings to your skin, damp with nervous sweat, and you wrestle it off.

Home-y. Right. who even says that?

Stupid stupid stupid.

Your dresser drawer sticks halfway open, You grab the first shirt your fingers brush against, soft from too many washes, and a pair of sweatpants with the elastic stretched out.

'He has a girlfriend,' you think, shimmying out of your jeans. The denim catches around your ankles, nearly causing you to trip.

'Probably. Maybe. Who the fuck knows.'

You yank the shirt over your head so hard the neckline stretches. The mirror across the room reflects your flushed face, your hair mussed from the fabric dragging through it.

You look and feel ridiculous.

You pull up your pants, then pause, fingers hovering at the waistband. Avoid him. Simple. Logical. You can do that.

but it wasn't that easy. after all there is only so much avoiding one could do to someone they live with.

The apartment isn’t big enough for elaborate evasion tactics, and Chan seems to have a sixth sense for popping up exactly where you don’t want him.

Leaning against the fridge when you’re raiding it at 2 am, or lounging on the couch just as you’re about to claim it for a late night tv binge.

So you just ended up being cooped in your room for most of the day.

But Chan isn’t stupid. eventually after days passed by, he’s leaning against your bedroom doorframe when you crack it open after what you thought was a safe half hour of silence.

“So,” he says, arms crossed, voice dripping with amusement, “you’re avoiding me.”

You freeze, one socked foot hovering mid step like a cartoon character caught mid sneak. “No,” you lie too quickly.

Chan raises an eyebrow. “You literally just ducked into the bathroom because you heard me coming down the hall.”

“I had to pee.”

“For the fourth time today?” His grin lopsided, “Either you’ve got a UTI, or you’re full of shit.”

You grit your teeth, fingers tightening around the doorknob. “Maybe both.”

he sighs out laugh, then steps closer, “Listen,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a serious tone, “if this is about the whole towel thing—”

“It’s not,” you answer quickly, too loud, too fast.

“So it is about the towel thing.”

“I’m not—” You exhale sharply through your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can you just—” You gesture vaguely at the space between you. “Give me, like, a three foot radius?”

Chan tilts his head, considering. His gaze drags down your body, before settling back on your face. “Nah,” he says finally, “I like you flustered.”

You bite your lip, eyes darting around, then settle on his, before darting around again.

The silence stretches, until you finally crack under the weight of it. “you—don’t you have a girlfriend?” you blurt, the words stumbling out in a rushed, stuttering mess.

Chan blinks, his smirk faltering for half a second before dissolving into genuine confusion. “A what?” His laugh sounds startled, almost disbelieving.

You press your lips together, suddenly regretting every life choice that led you to this moment.

Chan's eyebrows climb toward his hairline, "A girlfriend?" He repeats, "What, like, some theoretical girl who sneaks in when you're not looking?"

You gesture vaguely at him — the tousled hair, the unfairly sculpted shoulders, the effortless charm that clings to him like a second skin.

"You just—seem like the type." The words tumble out half mumbled, your gaze darting anywhere but his face.

Chan’s laughter echoes through the hallway, loud enough that you flinch—not just from the sound, but from the way it makes your stomach flip.

"Oh my god," he wheezes, leaning against the doorframe like he needs the support. "You thought I had some secret girlfriend sneaking in here to—what, fuck me while you're at work?"

You cross your arms tightly, "It's not that ridiculous," you mutter, but even you hear how weak it sounds.

"First of all, if I had a girlfriend, you'd know. I'm not subtle." His smirk tilts into something teasing. "Second, I'm very single. And third—" He pauses, tilting his head. "Wait. Is that why you've been avoiding me? You thought I was getting laid in there and didn't invite you?"

Your face burns. "No—that's not—"

His grin softens slightly, but the teasing glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. "So," he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "what is it, then?"

You swallow hard, fingers gripping the edge of your shirt so tightly the fabric threatens to tear. "Nothing," you lie. "Just—roommate stuff. Boundaries."

Chan hums, "Boundaries," he echoes, Then, "You know you can just tell me if I’m doing something that makes you uncomfortable, right?"

You swallow hard, "Yeah," you mutter, gaze trailing to his eyes and holding his stare for the first time throughout this conversation "I know."

Chan pushes off the doorframe with a shrug, "Alright then," he says, clapping his hands together like he's wiping the whole conversation away. "Takeout time. You in?"

it's like all this man does is think about food...and make you weak in the knees.

You blink, "Uh. Yeah. Sure."

Chan pulls out his phone, already scrolling through delivery apps, "Thai? Or that new Italian place that opened down the street?" He glances up, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Unless you're feeling sushi again, but last time you complained about the wasbi being too strong."

The normalcy of it — the way he remembers your stupid, offhand complaints about condiments — makes something in your chest tighten.

You clear your throat. "Thai’s good."

~

The weirdness fades slowly, chan doesn’t mention the girlfriend comment again, and you stop bolting like a startled deer every time he walks into a room.

He starts leaving his door open when he’s working, the rhythmic tap of his keyboard drifting into the hallway. You catch yourself lingering in the doorway sometimes, watching the way his brow furrows when he’s concentrating, the way he bites his tongue when he’s stuck on something.

once, he catches you staring and pats the space beside him on the bed without looking up from his laptop. “Help me brainstorm this dumb tagline,”

You perch awkwardly at first, careful not to touch him, but Chan sprawls like he owns every inch of the mattress, his thigh pressing warm against yours. and before you know it, you’re leaning into him, pointing at the screen. “That one’s terrible,”

~

Movie nights become a thing.

The first movie night starts by accident — or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. You’re curled into the corner of the couch, knees tucked under your chin, scrolling through your phone while Chan sprawls across the other end, his laptop balanced precariously on his thighs.

Then the Wi-Fi cuts out.

Chan groans, tossing his head back against the cushions. “Fucking landlord,” he mutters, jabbing at his keyboard like it’ll magically fix the connection.

You snort, watching him glare at the screen like it’s personally offended him. “Guess we’re gonna have to talk to each other,”

“Horrifying,” he deadpans, then grabs the remote off the coffee table. “a movie it is.”

You end up with some terrible action movie Chan insists is a “classic,” but neither of you pay much attention. Halfway through, you catch him watching you instead of the screen, his head turning back to the movie when you caught him.

You brush it off, focusing on the screen, but your pulse jumps when Chan shifts closer, his thigh pressing against yours.

The credits roll, and he stretches. The couch creaks as he shifts, stretching his arms overhead with a groan that does things to your already frayed nerves.

"Well," he murmurs, voice rough around the edges, "that was a cinematic masterpiece."

You snort, grateful for the distraction. "Yeah, if you consider explosions and zero plot development masterful storytelling."

Chan’s chuckles “Plot is overrated,” he says, “Sometimes you just wanna watch things blow up.”

Chan then exhales heavily and stands. “Alright, I’m hitting the shower,” he says, stretching until his shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of toned stomach. You look away — too late — and Chan’s smirk is audible in his voice. “Try not to miss me too much.”

“In your dreams,” you mutter, but your pulse jumps when he pauses by the hallway, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he says softly, almost to himself. “Exactly.”

You sit there, frozen, until the bathroom door clicks shut and the shower starts running. The sound of water hitting tile fills the apartment, and you press your palms to your overheated cheeks, exhaling sharply.

Stupid. You’re being stupid. That probably didn't mean anything.

But then your phone buzzes on the couch beside you, and Chan’s name lights up the screen.

forgot my towel. mind grabbing it?

You stare at the message, then at the hallway, Trap, your brain supplies helpfully.

type back,

Seriously?

he answers immediately

dead serious. i’m vulnerable here.

You groan, dragging a hand down your face, but you’re already standing. His towel hangs on the back of his bedroom door, You grab it, then walk out to the bathroom.

You knock once, then freeze when Chan calls out, “Just come in.”

Your throat goes dry. “Absolutely not.”

Chan’s laugh echoes off the tiles. “Relax, I’m decent.” A pause. “Mostly.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, then shove the towel through the gap in the door, arm outstretched as far as possible. “Here.”

Chan’s fingers brush yours as he takes the towel. His skin is warm, damp, and you jerk your hand back like you’ve been burned.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, voice closer than you expected. You can *feel* his smile through the door. “You’re a lifesaver.”

You bolt back to the living room, collapsing onto the couch with a groan.

too much for your first movie night.

~

just when things were getting normal, It happens again on a monday.

You’re home early again, the apartment is silent. You toe off your shoes, and you were about to shout a "I'm back" when you heard it again.

Low, breathy moans slipping through the crack in Chan’s door.

Your feet root to the floor, ears straining as the noise curls around you.

His voice, thick with pleasure, murmurs something you can’t quite catch — then a wet, rhythmic sound that sends heat flooding your cheeks.

apparently, this man takes his....alone time very seriously.

that's what it had to be right? you can't blame him — you've been there once or twice.

Your breath sticks in your throat, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. The sound— god, the sound — wraps around you, thick and heady, Chan's voice breaking on a moan that scrapes down your spine.

You should move. should bolt to your room, slam the door, drown it out with headphones. but your feet refuse to cooperate.

You tiptoe into the hallway, his door is cracked just enough, and your pulse hammers so loud its drowning out any other coherent thought in your brain.

A peak wouldn't hurt...

The door creaks faintly as it opens another inch, just enough for you to see.

Chan sits on the edge of his bed, but not like you thought. Not hidden, not private. No, this is something else entirely.

A ring light casts a glow over his bare skin, the camera propped on his desk angled perfectly to capture every inch of him. His laptop screen is open with a reflection of him and a rapid stream of comments too fast to read.

Oh.

Oh god.

Your stomach drops, then tightens all at once.

Chan’s head is tipped back, his throat working around a groan as his hand moves lazily between his thighs.

You press yourself against the hallway wall, pulse hammering, thoughts running a hundred miles per hour.

you did not expect this.

His breath hitches, a sharp, punched out sound, and your nails dig into your palms.

Chan’s fingers twist at the base of his cock, his thumb smearing precum in slow circles. The camera catches the way his abs flex as he arches into his own touch, his voice ragged when he murmurs, "Wish you were here." before he bites down on his lower lip. "Could use a mouth right now."

You watch, frozen in place, as his thighs tremble, his free hand fisting in the sheets beside him. The comments on his screen blur into a frenzy of emojis and a bunch of pinging donations. His breath stutters, his jaw clenching as his strokes turn erratic, desperate. “Yeah,” he gasps, voice breaking, “yeah, just like that—”

Then he comes with a choked moan, stripes of white painting his stomach as his back arches off the bed.

Gosh, he’s gorgeous — and you barely register the dampness between your own thighs until Chan slumps back against the pillows, chest heaving.

Chan exhales sharply, his fingers still lazily stroking his softening cock as he leans forward, just enough to tap something on his laptop.

he ends the stream with a wink and a low, raspy comment that you didn't quite catch. The screen goes black, and you barely have half a second to process the situation before your body kicks into motion.

You bolt down the hallway, socked feet silent against the hardwood.

Your bedroom door clicks shut behind you just as Chan gets up. You press your back against the door, lungs burning from holding your breath, and listen.

Water runs in the sink. A towel rustles. Then you hear footsteps.

They pause outside your door.

You purse your lips and hold your breath. Then Chan hums, before his footsteps retreat down the hall.

You slump against the door, exhaling shakily.

Holy shit.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you fumble to pull it out.

you home early?

You stare at the text, thumbs hovering over the screen. Lie, your brain screams. Tell him no. but then how would you fake going into the apartment if you're already inside the apartment?

Just got back

You hit send before you can second guess it.

Cool. Dinner soon?

Your fingers hover over the screen, the weight of his question pressing against your ribs like a stone. The air in your room feels — too thick — and suddenly the idea of sitting across from Chan at the kitchen table, pretending you didn’t just watch him get off on camera, makes your stomach twist.

Gonna shower first.

Your phone buzzes again before you can even set it down,

Can I join?

You nearly drop it, blood roaring in your ears. Then—

jk. don’t use up all the hot water.

You toss your phone onto your bed and drag a hand down your face with a sigh.

You're deeply fucked.

~

That night, you stayed up aggressively googling him till his page came up.

Onlychans? really?

you'd laugh at the username if it wasn't for the videos that popped up when you clicked on his profile.

Chan, shirtless, sprawled across what is unmistakably your living room couch, one hand lazily palming himself through his sweatpants.

Chan, biting his lip as he slicks lube down his cock, the camera angled to capture every twitch of his abs.

Chan, moaning, his head thrown back against the pillows of his bed —your apartment, your shared space — while his other hand works something thick and glistening into his—

You slam the laptop shut.

Your face burns. Your pulse thrums in your ears. The apartment is silent — Chan’s out for a run, or so he’d claimed when he’d left an hour ago.

You open the laptop again.

It’s Curiosity. That’s all.

It starts innocently enough — just checking his schedule, really. A quick glance at his calendar pinned to the fridge.

"For productivity purposes," Chan had joked when you asked.

Then, sure enough, it spiraled.

You memorize the time of his streams, monday nights, Friday nights, he'd timed them perfectly in sync with times he knew you wouldn't be home. that's why you've been blissfully unaware of him filming in different locations around your shared apartment for the past two and a half months.

And the occasional late night surprise session that leaves you fumbling for your earbuds at 1 am. You'd literally be home, but he'd go live anyway. was he into that?

you were into it too, admittedly, because you turned out to be just as shameful as him.

The notification pops up at 1:47 am on a Wednesday 'Chan is live!' (yes, you turned his notifs on) and your fingers freeze mid doom scroll through Instagram.

your room is dark except for the glow of your phone screen, you're supposed to be asleep.

You tap the notification.

Chan’s face fills the screen, his grin already in place as he adjusts the camera. He’s shirtless, propped against the headboard of his bed, one arm draped lazily over his bent knee. The ring light casts shadows along his abs, highlighting every dip and curve.

"Late night surprise," he murmurs, "*Miss me?*" aaaand heat is already pooling low in your stomach.

His fingers work on hinseld, slow and teasing at first, thumb smearing precum in lazy circles while he talks— god, he sure does talk, filthy praises and half formed fantasies spilling from his lips like he’s whispering them directly into your ear. You bite your lip to stifle a gasp, your other hand slipping under the waistband of your pajama shorts.

Chan arches his back on screen, his free hand gripping the sheets beside him. "Fuck, you guys are greedy tonight," he rasps, stroking himself slowly. His thumb presses against the head on every upstroke, just how you’ve learned he likes it — learned from watching, from nights spent with your phone hidden under your pillow, screen dimmed to its lowest setting.

"Fuck, m'close," Chan groans, your fingers moving between your thighs in time with his rhythm, matching the pace, hips shifting under the sheets, your breath coming shallow.

It’s not the first time you’ve watched him like this, but it’s the first time you’ve done it live, with the shaky thrill of knowing he has no idea you’re here.

A whimper almost escapes you when he swipes his thumb over the head of his cock, his breath hitching. You press your palm over your mouth, stifling the sound.

The last thing you need is him hearing you through the thin walls.

The thought alone, him catching you, realizing, sends a sharp jolt between your legs. You squeeze your thighs together, chasing the feeling before it slips away.

His hand speeds up, the wet sound of his skin moving over his cock muffled only slightly by the mic's noise suppression. "God, fuck—gonna come so hard for you," he grits out, his voice cracking on the last word.

You press your free hand harder against your mouth, fingers digging into your own cheek as you watch his stomach tense, the muscles there flexing under the sheen of sweat. Your own movements stutter when he lets out a low, punched out moan, his hips jerking up into his fist.

You’re so close you can’t think straight. The coil in your stomach winds tighter with every stroke of his hand, every filthy sound he makes, matching his rhythm like you’re desperate to prove something— like if you can just finish at the same time, it’ll mean something. Stupid. It’s stupid. But your hips jerk anyway, your breath coming in short, shaky bursts against your palm.

"Fuck, fuck—" His hand stills suddenly, fingers tightening around the base of his cock as he tips his head back, you watch as his body locks up for one second — and then he’s coming, stripes of white painting his stomach, his chest.

Your own climax crashes over you at the same time, so violently you nearly choke on the gasp you swallow down, your back arching off the bed as pleasure burns through you in hot, dizzying waves.

He’s still catching his breath, his free hand dragging lazily through the mess on his stomach, fingers tracing the lines of cum with a slow, absentminded swipe.

His lips curl into that stupid, effortless smirk you’ve seen a hundred times,

"Mmm, fuck," he murmurs, voice rough around the edges, still a little breathless. "You all got me good tonight."

He reaches for a towel off screen, the muscles in his arm flexing as he wipes himself clean. You watch, transfixed, as he tosses the towel aside and leans closer to the camera, cheeks are still flushed, his lashes low.

"Hope that was worth the wait," he says, eyes flickering to the chat before he grins. "gosh you guys are generous with the tips tonight." and you catch a few of the comments.

slave4u: how bout you come and give me that tip

sweetheartonline: gone broke just for you </3

Chan just chuckles, shaking his head. "Alright, alright, I’m done. You’re all insatiable." He stretches his arms above his head, his torso arching beautifully, "Next stream’s friday. Be good for me til then, yeah?"

With one last wink, he reaches forward, and the screen goes black.

You yank your earbuds out, Your chest heaves, your skin still buzzing, your thighs still sticky, and you press the heels of your palms against your closed eyelids until colors bloom behind them.

you find it ridiculous that you're actually enjoying this, perverted thoughts. Stupid. So stupid.

~

Two weeks pass after that. You're hyperaware of Chan’s presence in a way that makes your skin itch. Every casual touch sends sparks skittering up your spine.

You try to act normal, you really do.

But you catch yourself staring at his hands when he cooks, remembering the way they moved over himself on screen, and have to physically shake your head to clear the image.

Chan, for his part, seems to thrive on your discomfort. He leaves his bedroom door cracked just a little wider than necessary, and infuriatingly, he's rarely not shirtless.

it's okay. you're okay. at least you tell yourself that.

till it's Friday morning, marking the beginning of your third month.

the apartment is quiet, still bathed in the soft gold of early morning light filtering through the kitchen window. you hum under your breath as you flip pancakes.

then Chan emerges, shirtless, his sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair still messy from sleep.

He leans against the doorway, watching you with that lazy, knowing smirk. “Morning,” he rasps, voice still thick with sleep.

this feels too domestic for your liking.

“Morning,” you mumble, not turning around.

Chan pads closer, bare feet silent against the hardwood, until he’s right behind you. His warmth radiates against your back, “Smells good,” he murmurs, and you swear his lips brush the shell of your ear.

The spatula clatters against the pan. too domestic.

Chan chuckles, as he reaches around you to steal a piece of pancake from the prepared stack. His chest presses against your shoulder, his skin searing where it touches yours. “Careful,” he teases, popping the bite into his mouth. “You’ll burn them.”

The pancake batter sizzles violently as you stand there, frozen, Chan’s body heat scorching against your back.

His fingers brush your hip as he reaches for the syrup, and you nearly drop the spatula again.

"You’re jumpy this morning," Chan muses, leaning against the counter beside you. "Bad dreams?"

sure, if 'bad' and 'wet' are the same thing. "something like that."

Chan hums, tilting his head as he studies you. "Got plans today?"

You flip another pancake onto the growing stack. "Just groceries later." The words come out steadier than you feel.

His grin grows. "Mind if I tag along?"

You shrug, "It’s just errands."

Chan snags another pancake, leaning into your space until his bare shoulder presses against yours. "Exactly. Sounds thrilling." His fingers brush yours as he steals the spatula, flipping the last pancake with a flick of his wrist. "Come on. I’ll even push the cart."

You huff a laugh despite yourself. "You’ll get bored in five minutes."

"Bet?" He bumps your hip with his, "Loser buys ice cream."

~

The grocery store is exactly as mundane as you predicted, but Chan makes it unbearable in ways you didn’t anticipate — his fingers lingering when he passes you items, his chest pressing against your back in crowded aisles like it’s accidental. By the time you hit the freezer section, your nerves are frayed.

"Pick a flavor," Chan murmurs, chin hooked over your shoulder as he reaches past you to open the glass door. His breath ghosts across your cheek. "I’m feeling generous."

The freezer air hits your face, but it does nothing to cool the heat creeping up your neck. Chan’s arm brushes yours as he leans in, his fingers tracing the edge of a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. "This one," he decides, plucking it from the shelf. "tastes like toothpaste sometimes, but eh" he said with a shrug.

You snort, grabbing a classic vanilla, but he plucks it from your hands and replaces it with something absurdly decadent, something with caramel swirls and chocolate chunks.

"Live a little," he grins, tossing it into the cart.

The checkout line is agony. Chan stands close enough that his knuckles keep brushing the small of your back, each touch sending sparks up your spine.

the cashier — an exhausted looking college student — scans everything, he pushed your hand aside when you tried to pay, and handed the cashier his card.

he caried all the groceries too, and swatted your hand away when you try to carry any.

it feels like he's your boyfriend.

The apartment door clicks shut behind you both, grocery bags rustling as Chan kicks off his shoes. You’re still fumbling with the laces of your sneakers when he brushes past you with the plastic bags.

You follow, already going to pull things out and putting them in their designated cupboards, Chan’s already rummaging through to find the ice cream, His grin is wide as he holds it up. "Scoops or straight from the tub?"

"freezer" you deadpan, "it's probably melted by now"

his shoulders slump a little, turning around to place the tubs in the freezer.

"and, scoops," you mutter, "We’re not animals."

he snickers, "Debatable."

Chan nudges the freezer door shut with his hip, the ice cream safely stowed away for later. "Movie night?" he suddenly asks, casual as anything, "Haven't done one in a while."

You nod, "Yeah. Okay."

You retreat to your room to change, fingers fumbling with the hem of your shirt before you even reach the door. The fabric sticks to your skin, too warm and you peel it off with a relieved sigh the second you’re alone.

The dresser drawer squeaks as you rummage for shorts and a tank top since its getting too hot, but your hands freeze mid reach when you hear Chan’s door creak open down the hall.

The unmistakable sound of fabric hitting the floor — jeans, probably — makes your throat go dry. You strain to listen, pulse hammering in your ears, as Chan hums under his breath. Something clatters, a belt buckle, and then the soft rustle of fresh clothes being pulled on.

You yank your own shorts up so fast you nearly trip, ears burning. Pathetic.

When you emerge, Chan’s already sprawled across the couch in loose joggers and that stupidly thin white tank top.

"You took forever," Chan drawls from the couch, already eating his way through a popcorn bucket.

"You're picking?" he scoffs, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "After the garbage you called 'cinema' last time?"

You snatch the remote before he can lunge for it. "You picked Twilight unironically last time."

Chan clutches his chest like you've wounded him. "Bella Swan is a cultural icon."

You scoff, scrolling through the options, ignoring Chan's dramatic sigh as he flops back against the cushions. His knee bumps yours, but you don't pull away.

"Fine," he huffs. "But if it's another pretentious indie film where people whisper for two hours, I'm revoking your movie privileges."

"Fine," you grumble back, scrolling past a dozen of said pretentious indie films with moody black and white thumbnails. "But only because I pity your attention span."

Chan's grin is immediate as he stretches an arm along the back of the couch, fingers brushing your shoulder.

"pick something with action," then wiggles his eyebrows, "Or nudity."

You elbow him hard in the ribs.

"Ow—," Chan wheezes, but he's laughing, catching your wrist before you can retreat. His fingers are warm and rough against your pulse point, thumb pressing into the flutter there. "Violent and kinky," he muses, tugging you closer until your shoulders press together. "I like it."

You yank your wrist free and snatch up the remote again, scrolling through titles.

Chan's laughter vibrates through the couch cushions as you land on something, anything, just to shut him up. The movie starts with a car chase, tires screeching, glass shattering. Perfect. Loud enough to distract whenever Chan shifts beside you.

"Action and nudity," Chan murmurs, nodding approvingly at the screen where some actor's shirt rips open during a fight scene. "You do know me."

You sink lower into the couch, arms crossed. "Shut up and watch."

The first ten minutes of the movie blur into a haze of gunfire and badly timed one-liners, the volume turned up just loud enough to drown out the way Chan’s fingers keep tracing idle patterns against your shoulder.

You focus resolutely on the screen, but Chan’s warmth beside you is impossible to ignore. His knee presses into yours, his bare arm brushing against yours every time he reaches for more popcorn, and each touch sends a jolt of electricity down your spine.

Then, during a lull in the action, Chan shifts beside you, his hand sliding from your shoulder to the back of your neck. His fingers curl gently into your hair, thumb brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear.

"You’re not even watching," he mmurmur.

You swallow hard, refusing to look at him. "Am too."

Chan hums, unconvinced, his thumb stroking slow circles against your skin. "Liar."

His accusation hangs between you, thick and charged, and suddenly the movie feels like background noise.

His fingers tighten slightly in your hair, tipping your head back just enough that you have no choice but to meet his gaze.

His eyes are dark, there’s no teasing smirk now, no playful glint — just hunger.

Your breath hitches audibly.

Chan’s thumb brushes the corner of your mouth, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Tell me to stop."

You don’t.

His lips crash into yours before you can form a coherent thought, the remote clattering to the floor as your hands fist in his shirt.

Chan groans into your mouth, fingers tightening in your hair as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with so much desperation.

The movie drones on, but all you can feel is the way his hips jerk forward against yours as you press closer. His hands slide down to grip your waist, hauling you halfway into his lap without breaking the kissl.

"You’ve been driving me insane," Chan pants against your lips, one hand slipping under your shirt to trace the dip of your spine. "Watching me, pretending you weren’t—fuck—" His words dissolve into a groan when you grind down against him, the hard line of his cock pressing insistently against your thigh.

He knows you know. he has all this time. The realization makes your eyes widen slightly—but it doesn’t surprise you. Not really.

Not when Chan’s fingers tighten possessively around your hips, his teeth scraping your lower lip like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.

His palm slides up your ribcage, thumb brushing the underside of your breast through your thin tank top, and your breath stutters against his mouth.

Of course he knew. The cracked doors, the late night streams he timed too perfectly with your schedule. Those weren't just coincidences.

You pull back just enough to see his face, your eyes wide with the realization that just dawned on you.

his lips are swollen from your kisses, panting, “Surprise,” he rasps, voice wrecked.

Chan’s grip shifts, hauling you fully into his lap, and you gasp when his hardness presses against you. His chuckle vibrates through your chest as he rolls his hips up, slow and filthy. “Thought you’d never crack,” he murmurs, lips grazing your jaw.

Your hands fist in his tank top, the fabric damp with sweat where it clings to his chest. “You—asshole” you pant, hips jerking against his involuntarily. “All that teasing—”

Chan's grin widens "All what teasing?" he murmurs, pressing an open mouthed kisses to your neck. "You mean leaving my door open just a little too wide?"

His teeth scrape your skin, "Or maybe streaming at exactly the times I knew you'd be home?" His palm cups your breast through your shirt, thumb brushing over your nipple.

You gasp when he pinches lightly, hips jerking against his. "You're insane," you manage, though the words come out more breathless than angry.

Chan laughs against your throat, before his teeth sink into the tender skin just below your ear. Your nails dig into his shoulders as his hands slide down to grip your hips, guiding your movements as you grind against him. The friction is dizzying, the thin fabric of your shorts doing nothing to dull the heat of him pressed against you.

"Insane?" His breath is hot against your damp skin. "Baby, aren't the one who watched my streams every other night?" His fingers slip under the hem of your tank top, tracing the waistband of your shorts with maddening slowness.

You whine, the sound high and desperate in your throat, and nod before you can think better of it. The admission burns your cheeks, but the way Chan groans against your skin makes it worth it.

"yeah?" he rasps, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes.

Chan’s fingers flex against your waist, his breath hot against your lips. “Every fucking time,” he admits, voice rough “I’d pretend it was your hand on me,” His thumb presses into the dip of your hipbone, “Your mouth.” His gaze drops to your parted lips, then back up, heavy lidded. “You have no idea how many times I came thinking about you watching me.”

Chan exhales sharply, his nose brushing yours. “cancelled tonight’s stream,” he murmurs, lips grazing yours with every word. “would rather beg you to fuck me instead.” His palm slides up your ribcage, fingers tracing the edge of your bra through your tank top.

“You don’t have to beg,” you murmur, lips brushing his as you swing your leg off his lap. Chan exhales sharply, hands gripping your waist tighter like he’s afraid you’ll pull away entirely, but then you’re sliding to your knees between his legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of his joggers.

His breath catches when you tug them down just enough to free his cock, already hard and leaking against his stomach.

gosh he's even bigger than he looks on camera.

Chan's breath stutters when your fingers wrap around him, his hips jerking into your grip before he can stop himself. "Fuck—" His voice cracks, a hand flying to fist in your hair as you stroke him slow, watching the way his eyelids flutter.

He's hot and heavy in your palm, already slick at the tip, and the way his thighs tense when you swipe your thumb over the head is obscene.

Chan’s fingers tighten in your hair when your lips brush the head of his cock, his breath stuttering out in a ragged groan. “Fuck—fuck—” His hips jerk up instinctively, but you pull back just enough to tease, swirling your tongue over the tip without taking him deeper, and you can’t resist glancing up through your lashes to watch his face twist with pleasure.

“So loud,” you giggle, blowing a slow breath over the wetness you’ve left behind. Chan’s thighs tense under your palms. “All those streams,” you continue, stroking him lazily with one hand while the other traces the vein running along his length, “and you never moaned like this.”

Chan’s laugh comes out strained, his chest heaving. “it wasn't you,” he grits out, hips rolling up into your touch. His fingers tug at your hair, guiding you back to him with a quiet desperation that sends heat pooling low in your stomach. “Now stop teasing—”

You swallow him down before he can finish, humming around him just to feel the way his whole body jerks. His moan is filthy, unfiltered, his hips canting up into the wet heat of your mouth like he can’t help it.

You take him deeper, throat working around him, and Chan’s fingers tighten in your hair, not guiding, just holding on for dear life.

“god—” His voice cracks when you hollow your cheeks, tongue pressing flat against the underside of his cock. His other hand fists the couch cushion beside his thigh, knuckles going white. “So good—shit—you take me so fucking good—”

You pull off with a slick pop, lips brushing the flushed tip as you peer up at him, teasing, thumb swiping over the bead of precome gathered there.

Chan’s chest heaves, his abs flexing as he stares down at you, His grip in your hair tightens just enough to sting — a silent warning — but you just grin and duck back down, sucking him deep until his thighs tremble.

Chan curses, his hips lifting off the couch as you bob your head, the wet sounds obscenely loud even with the movie still playing forgotten in the background.

“Gonna—” He's cut off by his own gasp, “Gonna come if you keep—”

You pull off with a wet sound, lips slick and swollen, and replace your mouth with both hands, jerking him so fast his hips stutter off the couch, his breath coming in ragged, punched out gasps.

“Wait—fuck—” Chan chokes out, fingers scrambling at your shoulders, but it’s too late — his back arches off the cushions, muscles locking tight as he spills hot over your fingers and his own stomach.

His thighs shake under your palms, his cock twitching in your grip as you stroke him through it, slower now, milking every last drop until he’s whimpering and oversensitive, his hands weakly pushing at your wrists.

“Turn around,” Chan rasps, chest rising and falling rapidly. His fingers slide from your hair to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing your spit slick bottom lip. “Want you riding me.”

Your stomach flips at the command, but before you can move, Chan’s hands are gripping your waist, hauling you up onto the couch with surprising strength. He settles you over his lap in one smooth motion, your thighs bracketing his hips, and the sudden press of his bare skin against yours makes you gasp.

Chan groans, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he leans back to look at you, really look at you, his gaze dragging down your body with a hunger that makes your skin prickle.

he hooks a thumb into the waistband of your shorts and tugs, sliding them off, his breath hitching when he finds you already soaked through your panties.

"Fuck," he exhales, dragging the damp fabric aside with one finger, his touch featherlight as he traces your slit. His other hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you down until your foreheads touch, his breath mingling with yours. "You're so wet," he murmurs, voice rough with disbelief. "Just from sucking me off?"

You nod, hips canting into his touch shamelessly, his finger circles your clit —once, twice, before dipping lower, sliding into you, crooking just right to make your back arch. His free hand fists in your tank top, dragging you closer until your chest presses against his, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the way your nipples harden against him.

His thumb pressing firm circles against your clit, and your vision whites out for a second — just long enough to miss the way his free hand fists in your tank top, yanking it up until the fabric bunches just above your chest. His mouth replaces his fingers, teeth scraping over your nipple through the lace of your bra, and you gasp, hips stuttering against his hand.

“Thought about this,” he pants against your skin, his tongue lapping at the wet spot he’s left behind. “Every goddamn stream—imagined you like this, wet and desperate for me.” His finger curls again, dragging a broken moan from your throat, and his grin is all teeth when he leans back to watch you unravel. “Knew you’d be prettier than I imagined.”

You grab his wrist, stilling his movements, and his brows furrow — confused, frustrated — until you swing your leg over him, straddling his lap properly this time. His cock, half hard again, twitches against your thigh as you grind down, the friction drawing a ragged groan from both of you.

Chan’s hands fly to your hips, guiding your movements as you rock against him, his breath hot against your collarbone.

“Wanna feel you,” you murmur, fingers fumbling between you to grip him, slicking him up with your own arousal. Chan’s head falls back against the couch, his Adam’s apple bobbing as you line him up, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

You sink down onto him with a choked gasp, thighs trembling as he stretches you open inch by agonizing inch. Chan’s hands clamp around your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, but he doesn’t rush you —just watches as you take him deeper.

"Fuck," you whimper, nails scraping his shoulders when he bottoms out, your body shuddering at the unfamiliar stretch. "You’re—god—you’re so big—"

Chan groans, hips twitching beneath you, fighting not to thrust up. "Yeah?" His voice is wrecked, breath hitching as you clench around him. "Feel good, baby? Stuffed full of me?" His fingers trail up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts while you adjust. "taking me so good."

You roll your hips experimentally, and Chan’s head thuds back against the couch, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. "That’s it," he rasps, hands sliding to grip your ass. "Use me—ride me just like you imagined."

The words send heat flaring up your neck, but you can’t deny them, can’t stop the way your body responds, hips rolling in slow circles. Chan hisses between his teeth when you clench around him, his fingers flexing against your skin.

"Christ—fuck—you’re so tight," he grits out, eyes locked on where you’re joined. "Bet you thought about this every night, hmm? Watching me stroke my cock on cam while you fucked yourself on your fingers?"

You whimper, thighs quivering as you lift yourself halfway up before sinking back down, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you. his breath stutters, his hips jerking up to meet you halfway, and the sudden shift punches a ragged moan from your throat. "Oh fuck—Chan—"

"Say it," he demands, thumb brushing your clit as you bounce in his lap. His voice is rough, wrecked, his pupils blown wide, "Tell me how much you thought about this, how many times you came imagining me inside you."

You gasp when he pinches your clit lightly, your rhythm faltering, "Every—ah—every night," you admit, nails digging into his shoulders as you grind down harder. "Watched you—touched myself—god, wanted you—"

Chan groans, fingers tightening on your hips as he guides your movements, thrusting up to meet you. "Knew it," he pants, lips brushing yours with every ragged breath.

"Knew you were getting off to me—fuck—your little gasps when I’d look at the camera—" His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing your nipples through your bra. "Bet you came so pretty for me, huh? All quiet so I wouldn’t hear?"

You nod frantically, hips stuttering as his cock hits that spot inside you, the pleasure building dangerously fast. "Y-yes—*fuck*—Chan, please—"

"Please what?" he murmurs, lips curling into a smirk even as his own breathing falters. He slows your movements deliberately, dragging you through each excruciatingly slow roll of your hips. "Need me to fuck you harder, baby?"

You whine, fingers tangling in his hair as you try to chase your own rhythm, but his grip on your hips is unrelenting. "Yes—god, yes—"

he flips you onto your stomach before you can finish begging, his hands rough and sure as he shoves your knees apart against the couch cushions. The fabric burns against your bare thighs when he yanks your hips back, his cock sliding out of you with a slick sound that makes your face burn.

You barely have time to whimper before his fingers dig into your waist, lifting you on all fours with a sharp tug — his chest presses hot against your back, his breath ragged in your ear as he lines himself up again.

he doesn’t give you a second to adjust. He slams into you with one brutal thrust, punching the air from your lungs as your elbows buckle against the cushions. His cock stretches you open deeper than before, the angle hitting deeper, and you choke on a scream when his hips snap forward again, setting a punishing pace before you can catch your breath.

Hands clamp around your hips, fingers bruising as he drags you back onto him with every thrust. The couch creaks beneath you, the sound drowned out by chan’s ragged groans and the slick slap of skin on skin. His rhythm is merciless, no teasing now, just pure, desperate need as he fucks into you like he’s been starving for it.

Chan's grip on your hips shifts — one hand sliding up to fist in your hair, yanking your head back until your spine bows beautifully beneath him. "Fuck, look at you," he growls, his voice rough with something between awe and hunger as he takes in the sight of you spread out beneath him.

His fingers tighten, pulling just enough to make your scalp prickle, before his palm cracks down against your ass, the sound echoing through the room louder than the forgotten movie still playing in the background.

You gasp, thighs trembling as the heat blooms across your skin, but Chan doesn’t give you a second to recover. His hips snap forward, driving into you with a force that has your nails scrabbling against the couch cushions for purchase. "Take it," he orders, voice wrecked, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "God, you feel so good—clenching around me like—" His words dissolve into a groan as he picks up the pace, each thrust punching a ragged sound from your throat.

His free hand slides around your waist, pressing firm circles against your clit, and the dual sensation has your vision blurring at the edges. "That’s it," he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear as his rhythm falters for just a second, "Gonna make you come just like this—spread out, taking me so well—"

His thumb presses harder against your clit, and your back arches involuntarily, a broken moan tearing from your lips as the pleasure crests suddenly, violently.

Chan curses, his grip tightening as you clench around him, your body shuddering through the waves of it. "Yeah, there you go, gonna cum for me?"

You nod vigorously, your fingers twisting into the couch cushions as Chan’s thrusts turn erratic, his breath ragged against your ear. "Cum with me," he rasps, and it’s all you need.

Your body clenches around him like a vice, pleasure crashing over you in waves so intense your vision whites out for a second. Chan groans, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you with a broken gasp, his forehead dropping between your shoulder blades.

Chan pulls out slowly, hissing through his teeth when you clench around him reflexively, oversensitive.

The couch cushions are damp beneath your trembling thighs, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat as you collapse onto your stomach, chest heaving. Chan exhales sharply, running a hand down your spine, before flipping you onto your back, more gently this time.

The shift makes you wince, your body still thrumming with aftershocks, he slides off the couch onto his knees between your legs. His palms skate up your inner thighs, spreading them apart with slowly despite your weak protest. "Shh," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. "Just wanna taste you."

You squirm when his breath ghosts over your sensitive skin, but Chan’s grip tightens, holding you open. "Chan—" His name comes out hoarse, your voice wrecked. "I’m—ah—too sensitive—"

Chan’s fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open despite your squirming. His tongue flicks over your clit, just enough to make your hips jerk, oversensitive and trembling.

“You can take it,” he murmurs against your skin, “You’re a big girl, yeah?” His teeth graze your inner thigh, before his mouth closes over you again, and your back arches off the couch with a choked gasp.

You can take it. You do.

Every swipe of his tongue sends sparks shooting up your spine, your fingers twisting into his hair — not to pull him away, but to keep him right there, his mouth working you through the dizzying aftershocks of your orgasm.

Chan hums against you, the vibration making your toes curl, and his grip on your thighs tightens when you try to press them together instinctively. “None of that,” he chides, nipping at your skin before dragging his tongue up your slit again, “Just let me have you.”

You whine, hips caving into his mouth despite the oversensitivity, the pleasure tipping into something almost painful, but you don’t tell him to stop. Couldn’t if you wanted to.

"so sweet," he groans against you, the words vibrating through your oversensitive nerves. His fingers dig into your hips, pinning you down when you try to squirm away from the intensity. "No— stay still."

You whimper, but obey, letting him spread you wider as his tongue delves deeper, circling your entrance before dragging back up in one long, torturous lick.

"Chan—please—" you gasp, but you’re not even sure what you’re begging for — him to stop or never, ever stop.

His response is to hook your leg over his shoulder, angling you deeper into his mouth, and then he’s sucking you in, his tongue working you with precision. You sob his name, your hips jerking uncontrollably as the pressure builds again, too soon, too much—

You choke out his name, fingers scrambbling at his shoulders, a desperate attempt to ground yourself, before your hips jerk violently against his mouth.

“Chan, gonna—oh god—” The warning spills out brokenly, your thighs clamp around his head as you come with a shuddering gasp, your back bowing off the couch as pleasure rips through you.

he groans against you, the vibration wringing another broken sound from your throat, he doesn’t pull away, just laps at you greedily, his tongue dragging through the mess you’ve made of him with slow strokes.

“Fuck,” he rasps against your skin before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “You’re perfect like this.” His thumb brushes your clit once, testing, and you jerk with a gasp, your body still thrumming with aftershocks.

Chan grins up at you, all dark eyes and swollen lips, before dragging his tongue up your slit one last time.

Chan rises from between your thighs with a groan, his lips slick and glistening with you, you realize with a jolt — before his mouth crashes into yours, the kiss filthy and possessive, his tongue licking into your mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, sticky with sweat, and he moans into your mouth when you tug — sharp, just to feel him shudder.

You pull away eventually, both of you panting, sticky with sweat and other things, and collapse onto the couch in a tangle of limbs. Chan drags you half on top of him, your head resting against his chest where you can hear his heartbeat still racing beneath his skin.

His fingers trace idle patterns along your back, the movie’s credits roll, forgotten, casting flickering shadows across the ceiling.

You nuzzle into his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat slowing down, the rise and fall of his breath beneath your cheek. His skin is warm and slightly sticky, and you press a kiss to it without thinking, smiling when his fingers pause for a second before resuming their path along your spine.

"Quit staring," you murmur, tilting your head up just enough to catch him watching you with an expression that makes your stomach flip. soft, almost awed, Chan huffs a laugh, his thumb brushing your hipbone where he’d gripped hard enough to leave marks earlier.

"Can’t help it," he admits, voice rough with exhaustion "You’re kinda fucking gorgeous like this."

You snort, but your cheeks heat anyway, and Chan’s grin widens when he notices. He shifts beneath you, rolling just enough to tuck you more firmly against his side, his arm a solid weight across your waist.

The movement makes you wince, your thighs ache in a way that’s equal parts delicious and punishing, and Chan’s fingers tighten reflexively, his smirk turning smug.

"Sorry," he lies, and you bite on his shoulder just to hear him yelp.

his yelp dissolves into laughter, his fingers digging into your sides as he squirms away from your teeth. “Fuck, ow,” he complains, but his grin ruins the effect, “You bite hard—should’ve known you’d be a menace.”

You grin against his shoulder, pressing another kiss to the reddening mark you left behind. “Payback,” you murmur, tracing the outline with your tongue just to feel him shiver. Chan groans, his hips jerking reflexively beneath you, and you freeze when you feel him stirring against your thigh—already half hard again.

“Seriously?” you ask, incredulous, and Chan has the audacity to look proud, his smirk widening as he rolls his hips up against you.

“What?” he teases, voice dripping with false innocence. “Can’t help it—you’re right there, all warm and fucked out—” His hand slides down your back, fingers skimming the curve of your ass before squeezing lightly. “And you bit me. That’s basically foreplay.”

You press a hand to Chan’s chest when he tries to roll you beneath him again, your thighs still trembling from the last round. “Shower,” you mumble, and Chan makes a wounded noise against your collarbone in protest.

“Five more minutes,” he tries, lips trailing up your neck like he’s trying to convince you with his mouth.

You laugh, breathless, and squirm out of his grip before he can distract you properly. “No—shower,” you insist, swatting at his hands when they try to drag you back. “We’re disgusting.”

Chan pouts — actually pouts, like this big hunk of a man didn't just fuck the daylights out of you — and flops back against the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Fine,” he grumbles, but his eyes track your every movement as you stand, snickering when you wobble slightly on unsteady legs.

You stumble towards the bathroom, then you glance back at Chan, sprawled across the couch with his arms behind his head, watching you with that stupid, smug grin, and ask, "When’s your next stream again?"

his grin falters into confusion when your question registers. "Monday," he says automatically, his brows furrowing, "Why?"

You hum, "Just thinking," then you shrug, "maybe I’ll join you next time."

he's caught off guard when you leave him hanging and close the bathroom door behind you, "don't start something you can't finish!"

taglist: @yourqueenlady @kloversung @hycnsung @seagulljk @eyyyylucieeee @zosauce @minniebitesfr @jazz7gnab @stormynight-240 @ariaaleelynn @pedropacals0l0s @caalcyon @hyunjinswife4ever @11racha @starlostjisung @straykitten88 @mandmilovehim @hanjinology @breakmeonce @carrotcakeesblog @supernaturalsunny @gwinamlvr @parkairis18 @g0obz @tumvlrgirlsblog @atetheluck @shortcake-whoops @mylovchris @avchannie @emeraldgem22 @pinkyrec @yourtypicalnerd @skzhyunjinwifey @stryscribbles @jektaev @cb9711 @lostinmymind-daydreaming @b4echo @viisstrayy @binniebb @angellixmar @gnablana @non3ofurbusiness @kitty-bleh @klarkapascal

[hanjinology]

FOREST FLAMES : featuring christopher chahn bahng.

— idol husband!bangchan x fem!reader in which bangchan finally comes home with news of a whole week free from schedules, surprising and asking you on a secluded camping trip within the forest where no one can interrupt the two of you. away from cameras, responsibilities, and noise of the world. sharing warmth, and intimiacy beneath the stars that slowly brings the two of you closer in ways neither of yoi have experienced in a long time. in the middle of nowhere, surrounded only by nature, your husband finally gets to love you without limits.

content warning: mention of slight bdsm, oral(f!receiving), fingering, sub!reader & d!bangchan, spitting, nasty make outs, over stimulation, dom and sub dynamics, praising and degradation, downbad!bangchan, multiple orgasm, that may not be suitable for other readers. please proceed with caution. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

word count: 3.1k words

Chan had been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for what felt like forever. Comeback preparations, world tour logistics, producing sessions that stretched until the early hours, and endless brand commitments had left him drained. You had been his constant, patient, understanding, holding down the home front while he chased deadlines. But you both knew something had to give.

One exhausted night, he came home well past midnight, dropped his bag by the door, and crawled straight into bed with you. He pulled you close, burying his face in your neck, and whispered, "What do you think of going on a vacation with me, baby? A camping maybe? Just the two of us?"

You felt the tension melt from his shoulders as you hugged him tighter. "I'd love that more than anything, Chan."

That single whispered question became the beginning of something you both desperately needed.

The planning became a ritual of its own, something that brought you closer even before the trip started. Every evening after dinner, you'd sit together at the dining table with laptops open, scrolling through carefully vetted private rentals. Chan was particular. "It has to be completely secluded," he said one night, his arm draped around your shoulders. "No other campers, no trails that connect to popular routes. Just us. I want to hear the wind in the trees and your voice without anything else."

You leaned into him, breathing in his familiar scent. "Do you think we can find a lake there? Or maybe a trekking site we can hike?"

He smiled softly and kissed the top of your head. "Yeah. We'll walk slow, talk about everything we've been missing. I've been so absent... I hate that I made you feel lonely."

You turned to cup his face. "You never made me feel unloved, Chan. Just... missed. This trip is going to fix that."

Over the following days, you prepared with care. You chose the sturdiest four-season tent together, testing the poles in the living room and laughing when it collapsed on him. The over sized sleeping bags were a must—they zipped together into one large cocoon. You added strings of battery-powered fairy lights, a thick, soft blanket for stargazing, a portable stove, cozy hoodies, and a small Bluetooth speaker for quiet playlists. You packed his favorite snacks, fresh ingredients for simple meals, a notebook for memories, and a couple of books in case you wanted quiet afternoons.

You spent evenings reminiscing—talking about your first date, the night he proposed, the quiet moments during tours when he'd call you from hotel rooms just to hear your voice. Each conversation wove your bond tighter. By the time departure day arrived, the anticipation felt like a warm glow in your chest.

The four-hour drive was peaceful and intimate.Chan held your hand the entire way, thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. Sunlight filtered through the changing scenery as the city gave way to rolling hills and then dense forest. You played old playlists filled with songs from your early days together. You sang along softly, windows cracked to let in the fresh mountain air. At one stop for coffee, he pulled you close in the parking lot and kissed you slowly, foreheads touching afterward. "Thank you for giving me this," he whispered more than once.

When the GPS led you down a narrow dirt track, the trees closed in like a protective embrace. The world grew hushed. Finally, the clearing opened before you—wide and grassy, ringed by tall pines, with a gentle stream bubbling nearby and soft moss carpeting patches of ground. It was even more perfect than the pictures.

Setting up camp became a labor of love. Chan worked on the tent structure while you spread the groundsheet, your hands occasionally brushing as you passed tools. The physical work felt satisfying. When the tent stood tall, he stepped back, wiped sweat from his brow, and sat down, and held you in his lap for long minutes, breathing together in the pine-scented quiet.

"I've missed this so much," he whispered, fingers stroking your back. 

You kissed him deeply, slowly, tongues sliding in a gentle dance full of love and promise. Then you finished setting up; stringing fairy lights along the tent and low-hanging branches so they'd glow softly at night, spreading the big weatherproof blanket near the future fire pit, arranging cooking supplies neatly. Every shared glance and touch felt intimate, like you were building a tiny universe that belonged only to the two of you.

By late afternoon, the sun cast long golden rays through the canopy. You changed into comfortable hiking clothes—light layers, sturdy shoes, small backpacks with water and snacks. The trail behind the clearing wound gently uphill through ancient trees. Birds called overhead. The air smelled of pine resin, damp earth, and wildflowers.

Late afternoon you changed into hiking gear and set off on the trekking trail. The path climbed gently through towering trees, sunlight slanting through the canopy in golden shafts. Chan laced his fingers with yours. You stopped often for soft kisses and quiet conversations. In a sunlit glade he pulled you onto his lap on a mossy rock and kissed you unhurriedly. 

Further along, the trail opened to a breathtaking overlook. The valley stretched below in endless waves of green fading into misty blue mountains. Chan stood behind you, arms wrapped securely around your waist, chin on your shoulder. You stayed like that for a long time, listening to the wind and each other's breathing.

"I've been thinking about our future a lot lately," he confessed softly. "All the traveling, the success... it means nothing if I don't have moments like this with you. I want more of this. More time where I'm just your husband, not an idol with a million responsibilities."

You turned in his arms and hugged him tightly. "We'll make it work. We always do. This trip is proof."

The hike continued with more quiet conversations. You shared dreams—maybe a bigger home one day, travel when schedules allowed, thoughts about family in the distant future. Chan listened intently, asking questions, offering his own vulnerable thoughts. He picked a small wildflower and tucked it gently behind your ear, then kissed you so tenderly your eyes welled with happy tears. The descent back to camp was slower, the forest turning rosy as sunset approached. His hand never left yours.

The sun is just beginning to set, painting the lake in soft pinks and golds, when Chan zips the tent shut and flashes you that crooked smile you love so much.

"Race you?" he teases, already pulling off his shirt.

You laugh and dart ahead barefoot, the grass cool beneath your feet. Before you can even reach the water, his strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, lifting you effortlessly. You squeal and kick your legs, but the sound melts into giggles as he presses warm kisses along your neck and shoulder.

"Chan!" you protest between laughs, but he's already carrying you into the lake like you weigh nothing. The cool water laps at your skin, making you shiver and cling tighter to him. When he finally sets you down, the water reaches your chest. You don't hesitate, you cup your hands and splash him right in the face.

His eyes go wide in playful shock before he lunges for you. Laughter echoes across the quiet cove as water flies everywhere, sparkling in the fading light. You try to dodge, but he's faster, scooping you up again so your legs wrap instinctively around his hips. Your soaked sundress clings to both of you.

"You're impossible," you say breathlessly, brushing wet curls from his forehead.

"And you love it," he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. His dark eyes are soft, full of that quiet adoration that still makes your heart flutter. The world fades—the gentle ripples, the distant birds, everything, until it's just his steady heartbeat against yours and the warmth of his skin in the cool water.

You trace a droplet down his cheek, then lean in to kiss him. It starts sweet and tender, but you both end up giggling when your noses bump. You stay like that for a long time, floating lazily, trading soft splashes and sweeter touches, every shared laugh wrapping around you like a promise.

Back at the clearing, you prepared dinner together as twilight deepened. Ramyeon with grilled meat, fresh vegetables, and cold beer. You ate cross-legged on the big blanket, feeding each other bites, laughing softly at silly stories. The fire crackled warmly once lit, sending sparks dancing upward. As full darkness fell, the fairy lights twinkled like captured stars, and the forest enveloped you in its peaceful symphony, owls hooting softly, leaves rustling, the stream murmuring.

Chan pulled you between his legs, your back against his chest, and wrapped the large blanket around you both. His arms circled your waist securely. For a long while you simply existed together, watching the fire and the sky. Then his hands began to move with slow reverence—sliding under your hoodie, tracing the curve of your waist, the line of your ribs, gently cupping your breasts. His touch was worshipful, thumbs brushing softly until your nipples pebbled.

"I've missed touching you like this," he breathed against your neck, voice thick with emotion. "Feeling your heart beat under my hands. Knowing you're mine."

The night belonged to you.

Chan turned you in his arms and kissed you deeply, months of longing pouring into every slide of tongue and gentle bite of your lower lip. He peeled your hoodie off slowly, then your tank top, kissing every new inch of skin, your shoulders, collarbones, the tops of your breasts. The cool night air made your nipples tighten. He groaned softly at the sight, lowering his mouth to one breast. His tongue circled the sensitive peak before he sucked it deeply into his wet heat, flicking rapidly while his hand kneaded the other. You arched with a soft moan, fingers threading through his curly hair.

He took his time, switching sides, sucking and licking until your breasts felt heavy and aching, marked with faint love bites. Lower still, he laid you back fully on the thick blanket. Firelight and fairy lights painted warm gold and soft shadows across your body. He removed your shorts and panties with care, sliding them down your legs and kissing your calves, knees, and inner thighs on the way back up.For a long moment he simply looked at you, spread open and glistening under the stars. "So beautiful," he whispered, voice thick. "My perfect wife."

He settled between your thighs and tasted you. His first lick was long and slow, from your entrance all the way up to your swollen clit. You shivered. He did it again, broader, savoring. Then he focused—tight circles around your clit with the flat of his tongue, two thick fingers sliding into your soaked heat. He curled them lovingly against your front wall, stroking that spongy spot while sucking gently on your clit. The pleasure built like a warm, rising tide.

"Chan— oh god—" you gasped, hips rolling against his mouth. "Right there... don't stop..."

You came with a trembling moan, thighs shaking around his head, walls pulsing around his fingers. Chan didn't stop. He gentled his tongue, licking you through the waves, then built you higher again. A third finger joined the first two, stretching you deliciously as he sucked your clit with steady rhythm. Your second orgasm was deeper, longer, leaving you gasping and whimpering his name.

Only then did he rise, shedding his clothes. His cock was thick and hard, flushed dark, the head glistening with precum. You reached for him, stroking the velvety length, thumb spreading the wetness over the tip. Chan groaned, hips twitching.He kissed you, letting you taste yourself, then positioned himself at your entrance. He rubbed the thick head through your slick folds, teasing your clit before slowly pushing in.

"Ahh... fuck..." Chan moaned deeply as the first few inches sank inside you, his voice rough with emotion. "I missed this... missed being inside you so much, baby."

You both gasped as he continued pushing forward, stretching your walls inch by inch until his hips pressed flush against yours, buried to the hilt. He stayed completely still for a long moment, forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked, breathing shakily.

"God... you feel so warm... so tight around me," he groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I've been dreaming about this feeling for months. Being inside my wife again... fuck, it's perfect."

Then he began to move. Long, deep strokes that dragged against every sensitive nerve inside you. Each thrust pulled a low, needy moan from his throat. "Mmm... yes... just like that," he breathed, rolling his hips in slow, sensual waves. The angle was perfect. His pubic bone grinding gently against your clit with every thrust. You wrapped your legs around his waist, heels digging into his firm ass, pulling him deeper.

Chan's moans grew more frequent as pleasure built. Every time he bottomed out, he let out a husky groan, savoring the tight, wet heat squeezing him. "I missed this pussy so much... missed how you grip me... ahh—"

Gradually his thrusts grew firmer, more powerful. Your breasts bounced with each impact. The wet, intimate sounds of his thick cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy filled the clearing, mixing with the crackling fire, his moans, and your soft cries. Chan hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, folding you deeper, driving into you with slow, grinding force. The new depth made you cry out.

"Don't stop... please... you're making me feel so good," you moaned, nails digging into his back.

"Right there... fuck, baby, you're taking me so deep," he moaned, voice breaking with pleasure. 

He reached between you, thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, slick circles. Your third orgasm crashed over you—walls fluttering and squeezing his thick cock rhythmically. Pleasure pulsed through your entire body. Chan fucked you through it with deep, steady strokes, groaning loudly.

"Shit... you're squeezing me so good... I can barely hold on," he panted, moaning every time your pussy clenched around him.

He pulled out gently and flipped you onto your hands and knees. The blanket was soft under your palms. From behind, he gripped your hips and slid back inside in one smooth thrust. This angle made him feel even thicker, deeper. You pushed back to meet him, ass rippling with every impact. Chan leaned over your back, one hand bracing beside you, the other reaching around to rub your clit.

"So fucking good... mmm... missed this view, missed this feeling," he groaned, starting to thrust harder. Skin slapped against skin as his moans grew deeper, more desperate.

You came again like that—collapsing onto your elbows with a broken moan, pussy clenching hard around him. Chan followed with a long, guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt. "Fuck... I'm coming... filling you up—" You felt every heavy throb as he spilled inside you, hot pulses flooding your walls while he moaned your name, hips jerking with each spurt. He kept shallowly thrusting through his release, savoring every second. 

Even then, he stayed connected. After catching your breath, he pulled out slowly, watching his cum drip from your swollen pussy with a low, satisfied moan. He turned you onto your back and lowered his mouth again, licking you clean with long, devoted strokes—tasting both of you while pushing his tongue inside. The over stimulation melted into fresh pleasure. He sucked your clit gently until you came a fifth time, thighs trembling around his head, while he hummed and moaned against your sensitive flesh.

Chan slid back inside you missionary-style, chest to chest. This time it was slower, more intimate, deep rolling thrusts that kept your bodies pressed together. You could feel his heartbeat against yours. His hands framed your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he kissed you.

"Look at me, baby," he whispered, then moaned softly as he sank deep again. 

You rode him next under the stars. Straddling his hips, you sank down onto his cock, taking every inch. Hands braced on his chest, you rolled your hips, grinding so his thick length rubbed every inch inside you. Chan's head fell back with a deep moan.

"Fuck... ride me just like that... mmm... I missed you so fucking much," he groaned, hands gripping your ass, guiding you. He sat up, sucking marks into your breasts while you moved on him, moaning into your skin every time you sank down fully.

"Chan— oh! So deep," you whimpered, rolling your hips. "'s so big- I-i can't!"

When your thighs shook, he took control—thrusting up hard, bouncing you on his cock. "Yes... just like that... ahh—baby—" You came like that, crying out, collapsing forward onto his chest as your pussy spasmed around him. Chan kept thrusting up into you, moaning with every clench.

He flipped you again, spooning behind you on the blanket. One strong arm under your head, the other holding your thigh up, he slid back inside. Lazy, deep thrusts while kissing your neck and shoulder, fingers gently circling your clit. The zipped sleeping bags created a warm cocoon. He took you in every position you could manage—slow spooning with his hand between your legs, moaning softly with every thrust, then facing each other so he could watch every expression as he filled you again, groaning your name each time he bottomed out.

You lost count of the orgasms. They blurred into one long, continuous wave of pleasure and love. He came inside you multiple times, always with deep, broken moans about how much he missed the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him, how warm and perfect his wife felt, how he never wanted to leave your body.

Between rounds you talked softly—naked, tangled together under the blanket outside or inside the tent. His fingers traced your skin. Desire rose again and again, gentle but insistent. He'd slide back into your cum-filled pussy with a long, satisfied moan, making love until the sky lightened with dawn.

When morning came, you were wrapped tightly in each other. Bodies sore and marked with love bites, thighs sticky, hearts full. Chan kissed you everywhere—forehead, nose, lips, holding you like the most precious thing in his world.

"This is what I needed," he murmured, voice hoarse from a night of moans and whispers. "You. All of you. I love you. So so much my love."

The forest had witnessed a night of deep, explicit connection—raw pleasure wrapped in profound love and vocal longing. One long, beautiful night you would both carry in your souls always.

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[grungeham]

ink obsession.

summ: one tramp stamp tattoo and suddenly jisung can’t stop begging and whining about fucking you from behind.

⋆ pairing: perv!jisung x f!reader, established relationship ⋆ genre: smut (minors dni) ⋆ tags/cw: pet names (jagi, baby), jisung is hella needy, kissing, biting, lots of whimpering and whining, teasing, backshots, hair pulling?, overstimulation?, breeding kink, cumming, creampie, piv, unprotected s*x, rough s*x? ⋆ words: 2.0k

a/n: i’m way more of a piercing girl tbh but i’ve always been obsessed with the idea of jisung losing his mind over tattoos... so, why not portray that in a filthy fic? 😋 i think i degraded jisung a lot in the narration of this fic, oops-. also we’ve been getting SO much jisung content lately and now a collab too??? actually insane. and tysm for 700 followers :( genuinely never thought this many people would enjoy my horny little ideas lmao. thank you for reading and supporting my fics always <3 now go enjoy this fic hehe >.<

“jisung.”

he let out a muffled sound behind you, like just hearing your voice already hurt him.

his hands were still sunk into your waist while he watched you rub cream over the tattoo on your lower back, completely incapable of looking away.

and honestly, it was starting to get ridiculous.

“baby…” he whimpered quietly, dropping his forehead between your shoulder and your neck. “you seriously can’t keep showing me that.”

you let out a small laugh, lifting your shirt just a little again so you could spread the cream better over the sensitive skin.

and you knew it was a terrible mistake the second you felt his fingers dig harder into your waist alongside a broken gasp against your warm skin.

“f-fuck…”

jisung had been like this basically all week.

every kiss ended with him lifting your shirt “just to look real quick.” every hug ended with his hands on your lower back. you’d even caught him staring at the tattoo before bed with that completely gone expression, like he was having an internal crisis over a little bit of ink on your skin.

obsessed didn’t even begin to cover it.

“you’re staring again,” you teased.

“because it’s fucking insane,” he answered immediately.

you raised a brow slightly and turned your head just enough to look at him.

his glasses were crooked, hair completely messy, lips slightly parted while he kept staring at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

“i genuinely think you ruined my life,” he mumbled, defeated.

a laugh slipped out the second you felt him bury his face in your neck again.

“dramatic.”

“m’serious…”

his hands slid down your waist again slowly until they stopped right above the tattoo. and the tiny gasp he let out after that was almost miserable.

“fuck…” he closed his eyes for a second. “every time i see your back now, i think about bending you over.”

ah. there it was. the real problem.

your smile grew the second you watched him instantly regret saying it out loud.

“jesus…,” he muttered, hiding his face in your neck again. “forget i said that.”

“wow,” you murmured, amused. “so this is all because of the tattoo?”

“yes,” he answered way too fast. “obviously yes.”

his fingers kept tracing your lower back absentmindedly while he talked, like he didn’t even realize he was still touching you.

“how am i supposed to act normal when you look like that now?”

and honestly, he did not look normal at all.

his eyes kept dropping to your back over and over again. his breathing was completely uneven. and when you lifted your shirt slightly again to put the cream away, jisung literally moaned behind you.

a tiny, embarrassed, completely needy sound.

seeing him like that up close almost ruined you too; flushed cheeks, chest rising way too fast, and those gray sweatpants doing absolutely nothing to hide the huge erection trapped inside his boxers begging for mercy.

jisung swallowed hard the second you looked at him, giving you those huge doe eyes while wetting his lips.

“could we…?” he asked quietly, moving closer again. “i’ll be gentle, i swear.”

liar. both of you knew jisung could never control himself once he got his hands on you.

the smile that spread across your lips seemed to completely destroy him.

“then stop wasting time.”

and the sound he let out against your mouth after that was practically a whine. you grabbed him by the neck and kissed him again, this time much harder, messier.

jisung made a broken sound against your mouth immediately. barely a miserable gasp that disappeared between your lips when you pulled him closer.

his hands dropped to your waist on reflex. his fingers were trembling slightly while they traced your lower back, brushing over the tattoo again and again like he was obsessed with it.

“ah- fuck…” he moaned quietly against your lips.

your hand slowly slid between you, palming his erection through the fabric. and jisung literally shuddered from head to toe at the touch. a whine slipped out before he could swallow it down. he instantly buried his face in your neck, embarrassed.

another stroke over his cock and his hips moved against your hand on their own.

absolutely pathetic.

“baby, please…” he whimpered. “please… let me fuck you. i’ll be good, i swear…”

he wasn’t even trying to sound normal anymore.

cheeks completely flushed, breathing wrecked. he could barely keep his eyes open while he watched you slowly pull your shirt off in front of him. and the sound he let out after that was almost obscene.

“holy shit…”

he swallowed so hard you could hear it.

his hands immediately found your waist again, squeezing gently while his eyes dropped to your back once more.

completely gone.

“need you- fuck, need you so bad…” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

you kissed him again and jisung practically melted against your mouth. everything turned wet and messy way too fast; muffled gasps, teeth barely clashing together, his tiny whines getting lost between kisses while his hands roamed your body without knowing where to stay.

“baby… fuck,” he panted against your neck. “need to fuck you from behind. please.”

the way he begged with that wrecked voice almost made you laugh. he sounded completely embarrassed, completely desperate.

and when you finally settled onto the bed, giving him the view he has been whining for, jisung froze behind you.

“oh my god…” the air literally got stuck in his throat.

his hands immediately dropped to your thighs, rubbing them clumsily before drifting back up to your waist again, to the tattoo, like he physically couldn’t stop touching it.

“you’re killing me…” he moaned.

he practically ripped his pants off after that.

the mattress dipped behind you and immediately you felt his lips on your lower back again. wet, distracted, desperate kisses.

his fingers slowly slid over your panties and the moan he let out when he felt how wet they were sounded completely miserable. he buried his forehead between your shoulders with a broken laugh.

“shit… all this is because of me?”

his hips rolled against you again before he even waited for an answer, searching for more contact before he lost his mind. you could hear him slipping down his boxers and hissing when his erection bounced against his abdomen.

you bit down on your lip, muffling your moans from the constant stimulation between your legs, which became nearly impossible once you felt him push your panties aside and drag his cock through your wet folds, teasing you.

“fuck-” he groaned, brows furrowing while he gasped for air. “s-so good…” he whimpered. “need to- fuck- need to be inside you so bad…”

you wanted to say something teasing, something that would make him suffer a little longer, but the words died the second you felt his cock push into you without warning. the moan that left your mouth was immediate, completely involuntary, and that alone was enough to pull a miserable sound out of jisung behind you.

“s-shit…” you gasped, gripping the sheets desperately.

his hands gripped your hips tighter, like he was trying to hold himself back even though he’d clearly stopped doing that a long time ago.

you dropped your face into the mattress, whining and panting weakly when you felt his size hit your cervix perfectly, throbbing inside you.

you’d never felt this full before. and it wasn’t exactly news that jisung was big, but you never completely got used to it.

jisung groaned through his uneven breathing, feeling your warm walls squeeze around his cock tighter. and when you rolled your hips back against him, jisung whimpered audibly before pulling out completely.

you turned to look at him with a pout and furrowed brows, ready to complain about his behavior. but then jisung shoved himself back inside you abruptly, stealing a whine from your lips.

his thrusts started slow, gentle, but quickly became precise, fucking you erratically. you whimpered into the sheets, eyes stinging from how deep and fast he was reaching.

“fuck- you take me so well, baby…” you heard him pant, completely wrecked. “could fuck you all night, shit… fill you up completely.”

the pace got sloppier and rougher by the second until you could barely think straight. your breathing came out broken against the sheets while he kept kissing your skin, leaving behind little bites.

he was panting while thrusting into you mercilessly. the sound of your bodies slamming together was driving both of you insane. jisung’s whines echoed through the room, mixing perfectly with your muffled moans.

jisung couldn’t stop staring at the way your bodies connected. watching you greedily swallow his cock only made his thrusts turn even more violent.

“that’s it… shit, just like that…” he panted against your ear, completely breathless. “you’re doing so good for me, jagi…”

your moans turned completely incoherent when he shifted into an angle that made him hit your sweet spot over and over without mercy, making your legs tremble.

“fuck-” he whimpered quietly, almost choking on air. “i can’t… jagi, i seriously can’t… need to come inside you- let me fill you up, pleasepleaseplease…”

you whimpered, trying to muffle your own moans against your hand and failing miserably when jisung lifted one of your legs onto the bed, trying to get even deeper inside you.

“d-do it. come inside, ji-” you answered between gasps, feeling your body burn while tears started rolling down your cheeks. “m’so close, f-fuck…”

jisung felt his cock twitch violently at those words. he grabbed your hair clumsily. he needed to hear you, needed to know how much you loved taking him.

“holy shit… come for me, jagi. i want- i need to make you come so good…” he whimpered against the skin of your back.

his movements became much more precise, mixing together with the clumsy movements of his fingers once they found your throbbing clit desperate for attention. you clenched your teeth, completely unable to hold back anymore.

“oh, shit- ji, m’so…!”

and everything snapped the second you felt your muscles tighten and the heat in your abdomen explode. jisung moaned brokenly when your walls clenched even tighter around him. your whole body trembled violently through your orgasm.

“oh my god, yeah- just like that…” he panted, thrusts turning dangerously sloppy and fast. “shit- m’so close…”

jisung pulled your body against his while he kept rubbing your clit. neither of you could make coherent sounds anymore, the only thing you could think about was the way his cock kept slamming into your sweet spot over and over again.

your walls ended up milking him dry, dragging him right over the edge with you. a few more thrusts and jisung came inside you mercilessly. you could feel his warmth filling you completely, swallowing a broken moan when you felt the cum starting to drip out of you.

for a few seconds, neither of you spoke.

then he pressed a slow kiss to your cheek, followed by another and another, completely different from the desperation from just a few minutes ago, even with his breathing still heavy and uneven.

jisung stayed wrapped around your waist, still trembling and whining softly after such an intense orgasm, hiding his face in your neck like he didn’t have the strength to hold himself up alone.

“s-sorry…” he murmured between breaths, still smiling against your skin. “you’re just… stupidly pretty, i just can’t control myself…”

the tired laugh you let out made him immediately hide his face again, embarrassed by how pathetic and needy he’d acted just a few minutes earlier.

and honestly, it was ridiculous.

less than five minutes ago he’d been completely out of control, and now he was sitting there on the messy bed, flushed all the way to his ears and whining quietly while messing up his own hair.

“you’re actually ruining my brain…” he muttered dramatically, shaking his head. “i swear i’ll get hard every time i see your back now.”

and you couldn’t help laughing when he looked at your back again with that same completely defeated expression as always.

permanent taglist: @cherryblogger2003, @kloversung, @ykitsaura, @pporang-pporang, @straykitten88 @b4echo, @elylyyy

[rosylix143]

honey in pink | h. jisung

pairing: han jisung x hyperfeminine!fem!reader

genre: smut

synopsis: han invites you to join him for a movie night. little did he know what watching a romcom with you would entail.

cw: MDNI, soft!dom!han/sub!reader, sex scene in a movie (GASP), vaginal teasing, oral (f!receiving), cum swallowing, unprotected sex (don't!), p.i.v., pet names (honey, baby, good girl)

let me know if i’m missing anything!!

wc: 3280

other parts: in pink masterlist

a/n: and finally, the in pink series has officially come to an end. i know it has been a hot minute, but ye girl was busyyyy. but i'm back now, so yippee!! i just want to take a moment to say thank you to everyone who has given a lot of love and support for this series. i have been wanting to write those fics for a long while, ever since i wrote kitten in pink last summer. this series has definitely posed a couple of writing challenges for me, so thank you guys smmmm. i have been writing some other fics as well in the meantime, so please look forward to them too! so yeah, as always, leave a like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed it. your support is very much appreciated <3

masterlist | join my taglist

———————————・❥・——————————

It’s been a hot minute since you and Han last went out on a date. You’ve been occupied with your job at the cutesy café in downtown Seoul, taking orders, brewing coffee and tea, and making delicious pastries. And Han’s been occupied with touring, making music, and whatever else might be on a busy K-pop idol’s schedule. The grind just never stopped. However, this Saturday was a day you could finally take a break from the constant working and see each other.

You both agreed to have a simple movie night at Han’s place, since you just wanted a chill and carefree date. Within the hours leading up to the actual date, Han was cleaning up the place: neatly folding blankets, taking out the trash, making sure the kitchen counters were spotless, vacuuming the floor, and keeping his room tidy. After cleaning up the place, Han’s final task was to make a nice meal for you. He rarely cooked, but you deserved something nice to eat.

Han was cooking some lovely steak and creamy mashed potatoes. He tried his best not to burn himself in the process. As he was making the creamy mushroom sauce in the pan, Han’s roommate, Minho, walked past the kitchen and towards the front door.

“Alright, Hannie, I’m going,” Minho called out.

“Wait, where are you going?” Han turned around and looked at Minho with wide, slightly confused eyes.

“Chan-hyung offered me dinner.”

“Ah, okay. Have fun!”

“You have fun too,” Minho smirked and raised both of his eyebrows teasingly.

Pink tinted Han’s cheeks, but he shrugged off the teasing.

“Thanks,” he said.

Minho walked out the door, leaving Han alone in the dorm. He stirred the mushroom sauce an extra two times before gently drizzling it on the plates of steak and mashed potatoes. Once dinner was finally ready, the doorbell rang. Han immediately bolted to the door and opened it. His eyes immediately widened. You were standing before him, dressed in the cutest outfit imaginable: a simple ruffled pink gingham plaid milkmaid dress, with pink stockings and pink heels. Your hair was in a blowout style, making it look extra soft and voluminous. Your makeup was simple, but it somehow made you look more adorable than ever.

“Hi, Hannie,” you said, with a soft smile that made the apples in your cheeks glow.

“Wow,” he said, followed by a whistle. You giggled. “Sorry, you just look so lovely.”

Han’s hand found your waist, and he immediately pulled you close. Your hand was on his chest, and his lips met yours. You closed your eyes, softly melting in his arms, and a searing kiss.

“I missed you, Honey,” Han said.

“I missed you, too.”

“I made some dinner.”

Your eyes widened.

“Oh, really?” you asked, “What did you make?”

“I made some steak and potatoes,” Han said. His hand wrapped around your wrist. “Come on, I just made your plate.”

Han led you inside his home and to the small table plopped between the common area and the kitchen. The table was arranged as if it were in a restaurant. Two plates of warm steak and potatoes were placed across each other, two empty glasses beside them, and a bottle of expensive wine in the center, alongside a vase of pretty pink flowers. Han was chivalrous enough to pull a chair for you to sit on. 

“Oh my, how fancy,” you said, as you sat down at the table. Han opened the bottle of wine and poured some into your glass before sitting across from you.

“Try it, and tell me how it tastes,” Han said. 

You picked up your fork and immediately dug in. The buttery, garlicky steak melted into your mouth, and the mashed potatoes were the right amount of cheesy and spicy. And of course, that mushroom sauce was the perfect topping.

“It’s delicious,” you said.

“Really?” Han’s eyes beamed as his smile widened.

You nodded as you took another bite.

“You should cook more, Hannie,” you said.

“Alright,” Han chuckled.

The plates were completely spotless, and Han offered to take them to the sink while you sat on the couch.

“What movie are we watching, Hannie?” you asked.

“Some romcom,” Han said as he joined you on the couch. He grabbed the black remote and aimed it at the TV. The screen flashed white, and Netflix was the first thing to show up. Han scrolled through the many options in the romantic catalogue. You curled up to his side and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Anything you’re feeling?”

“Hmmmm. Maybe….how about that one show you’ve been wanting to watch?”

“Which show?”

“That one.”

You pointed at the screen, and the tip of your finger was aimed at a poster of a man and woman pulling each other close in front of a sparkly pink background. Han’s eyes widened.

“Ohhhh! That one! Yeah, we can watch that, Honey,” he said.

Han pressed the button on the remote, and the movie began to play. He put down the remote and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to him. The movie went just like any good romantic comedy would. A cute girl working hard at her simple job, she bumps into a charming man, and the little petals from the cherry blossom trees would fall like snow at every scene where the characters stared into each other’s eyes. Very few words were exchanged between you and Han. Your eyes were wide and focused on the screen, and your feet would kick every time the main guy would say a cute, cheesy line.

“Oh my god, he’s so funny,” you said, “Why can’t you be charming like him?”

Han raised his eyebrow and looked at you with dramatic offense.

“Honey, what do you mean?!” Han asked, playing up the antics. “I’m charming! I’m so charming!”

“Well, he’s so handsome, he has his silly one-liners, and he’s sooooo protective that it’s sexyyy.”

You giggled as you watched Han straighten his back.

“Okay, I can also do the silly one-liners,” Han said matter-of-factly. “And you know how much I like to be your human shield. Besiiiidesssss there’s no way he’s sexier than me.”

You laughed again. You leaned against him and pressed a kiss on his cute, pouty lips.

“I’m just teasing, Baby,” you said.

“I would hope! I bet that guy can’t make a better steak than me.”

“I guess not. You make a good steak.”

Suddenly, a moan broke out in the living room, and the two of you quickly turned your heads back to the TV screen. On the screen was a scene a little different than the rest. The lighting was more warm and intimate, the two characters were losing their clothes bit by bit, and they were on top of each other.

The main guy had his hands wrapped around the main girl’s wrists, and he kissed her and moaned as he rocked his hips against hers. Her moans were so loud and light that they made your pupils dilate and your knees a little closer to your chest. Han sucked in a small breath, and he turned to you, instantly noticing your little squirms.

“You okay, Honey?” Han asked, “We can skip the scene if you want.”

You shook your head.

“No, it’s okay,” you assured.

Your cheeks were getting a cute pink tint, and you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. You’ve watched many sex scenes in the past, so why was it this one that’s got you feeling shy? Maybe it was because the main guy was so charming. The way he would coo and talk the main girl through it, calling her a good, sweet girl, made you feel so breathless. You squeezed your thighs together even more, and you tried to play it cool and not bite your lip. But you were terrible at playing it cool.

“You’re getting off to this, aren’t you, Honey?” Han asked. He leaned closer to you, with a sly grin on his face.

“What makes you say that?!” You retorted. Your face was covered in pink, and all you could do was hide behind your knees, covered by the milkmaid dress.

“You’re squirming and blushing, Honey. I didn’t know you were that perverted.”

“Me?! I’m not a pervert!” Your face got even pinker, and you pouted while crossing your arms. How dare he tease you like this? “I’m not a pervert!”

Han laughed a little.

“Sure, Honey. You’re definitely not just squirming because of that, right?”

You pouted more and huffed at Han’s teasing words.

“Ugh, you’re so immature,” you said, “Why can’t I just enjoy a romantic scene?” 

“I’m not saying you can’t, Honey,” Han said, “But I can’t help but wonder if that guy is really doing it for you?”

Han leaned closer to you, and you sucked in a breath. His hand snaked around your waist, and your cute breasts were pressed up against his chest. The blush in your skin glowed brighter, and his other hand snuck its way to your thigh. You could feel Han’s heart pound against your chest, and his hot breath was fanning over your face.

“Hannie—” you hitched a breath.

“You can’t lie to me, Honey,” Han said lowly, as he leaned closer to the crook of your neck. He nuzzled his nose against your heated skin, inhaling your sweet perfume. You smelled just like sugar and strawberry jam. “But we both know who can do it better, right?”

He gripped your chin gently, and his thumb rubbed against your plush, bottom lip, feeling the sticky lip gloss. His face was completely red, too, and his smile was so coy. Meanwhile, his hand traveled from your thigh to your core, and he started petting it, making you whine. He was petting it like it was nothing. Gently playing with it, and your legs were beginning to feel like jelly. All the butterflies in your stomach fluttered, and all the heat rushed down to your pussy. The moans on the TV weren’t helping either. Your legs slightly opened, hoping that he would at least slide his fingers in, but he didn’t. He just kept stroking your sensitive, wet folds, making them pulse and cry. 

“Hannie!” you whined, “Please—”

“You’re so wet, Honey,” Han cooed.

You gasped when he cupped your center with his hand. You could feel his palm rub against your clit, and all the clouds were filling up your head immediately.

“Since that man can’t come out of the screen,” Han said, “Want me to make you feel good, Honey? Maybe I can prove just how much better I am than that guy.”

Han’s lips brushed against yours, and you kissed him back immediately. He instantly melted against you, and he continued to touch and play with your sensitive, aching pussy. He kissed you again, but a little firmer. You moaned against his lips, and Han pinned you down on the couch. His hands were now wrapped around your wrists, and your legs were wrapped around his waist.

“Your lips taste so sweet, Honey,” Han moaned, “And fuck, you look so cute in that damn dress. All pink and pretty for me like a doll.”

“Hannie,” you whined.

Jolts were sent down your spine when you felt the large bulge in Han’s jeans. He was so hard, all the tears were running down your thighs.

“Let me make you feel good, Baby,” Han said, as his lips traveled down your neck. Every kiss set your body ablaze, and you couldn’t help but arch your back a little. “Please?”

“Okay,” you nodded.

Han kissed your chest, and his hands snuck up under your dress. All the fabric was bunched up around your waist, and Han’s head ended up in between your thighs. He couldn’t help but feel the fabric of your soft stockings, massaging your plush muscles. The only thing between him and you was the thin, pastel pink lace, all decorated with cute pink bows with little quokka charms. Han’s eyes widened at the sight, and more blood ran straight to his cock.

“Goddammit it, Honey,” he groaned, “Why are you so damn cute?”

He kissed your inner thighs, coaxing light whines out of you, right before he fully nuzzled his nose against your center. Your back arched slightly again, and Han was inhaling every bit of your sweet scent. God, it felt like eons since he last did this. His mouth was watering, and his grip on your thighs tightened the moment he pulled them on top of his broad shoulders. Han’s lips met your clothed clit, and he was immediately sucking it in with the fabric. You moaned, and your hands instantly landed in his smooth brown hair, urging him to keep going.

“Han!” you cried out.

Han moaned against your clothed pussy before he grabbed the band of your panties and pulled them down your thighs a little, exposing your wet center.

“Fuck, Honey, you’re soaking,” he said.

He wasted no time and immediately dove right back in. His lips collided with your folds, and his tongue slipped inside and out of you. You moaned and whined, tugging tightly on his hair strands, as he ate you out like a starving man. Han’s moans vibrated through your body, and a tight coil was forming deep in your belly.

“Hmmm, so good, Honey,” Han said, as he was licking massive stripes on your cunt. “You taste so sweet. I can’t get enough.”

Han continued to munch on you, and your head was so high up in the clouds. The pleasure was consistently jolting through your body like electricity, and you felt yourself get even wetter every second. You were like a never-ending water fountain, and Han was swimming and drinking every single drop it had to offer. The knot in your gut was getting tighter and tighter with every flick of his tongue and suction of his lips, and Han could sense it with the way your walls would squeeze on his face.

“You’re gonna cum, Honey?” he asked, followed up by a grunt. “Cum for me then.”

You whined loudly, as the knot in your gut snapped, and you gushed all over Han’s face. Han moaned against your sensitive folds, and he slurped and swallowed every last bit of your sweet nectar, followed by sucking on your already sensitive, puffy clit. You whimpered, and your chest heaved as you slowly felt yourself come down from your high. After licking every last bit of you, Han kissed your inner thighs again before moving up to kiss your cute lips. You could taste your own sweetness, but you didn’t care. You kissed Han back again, and you moaned against him.

“Fuck, Hannie…” you whined.

“Did it feel good, Honey?” Han asked.

“Yeah…”

“Good, because I think I want to keep going.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Do you want this too?”

“Yes, Hannie, please.”

“My good girl.”

More heat washed over your face, and you felt like screaming. The way he smiled was so cute but sexy at the same time. The glint in his eyes was also enough to make your stomach flip. Han kissed your pink nose, and he sat up straight. He reached down to unbutton his pants, and his eyes traveled up and down your body, taking a good look at your flushed skin and pink plaid dress, which was more ruffled than before. He couldn’t take his eyes off the swells of your breasts, threatening to spill out of the cleavage.

“God, you’re so cute,” he said, “So pretty and pink.”

Han finally pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his cock: all erect, flushed, and leaking. You swallowed heavily at the sight, and your body shivered.

“Like what you see, Honey?” Han asked.

“Yes,” you said, “Hannie, please, I can’t wait anymore.”

“Alright, Baby, I gotchu.”

Han scooted up and hovered over your body. His hands wrapped around your wrists, and you opened your legs up. With one thrust, Han slid his cock inside your walls, and your moans echoed in the living room. He was so big, and it felt so goddamn good. Han continued to rock his hips against you, and his cock was hitting your sweet spot so deliciously. His pace was fast, and your pussy was clenching onto him for dear life.

“Fuck, Honey, you’re so tight!” Han moaned. His grip on your wrists tightened, and he leaned in to kiss and nip at your collarbone. “So good for me.”

“Hannie!”

You could feel him in your stomach. Your mind was getting dizzy every time he hit your sweet spot. All proper and coherent thoughts disappeared from your brain. The only thing you could think and say was Han’s name over and over again, like it was a prayer. Han smiled at the sight of your flushed and fucked out face, which emboldened him to go faster.

“That’s it, Honey,” Han groaned, “This feels good, yeah?”

“Yes!” you whined.

The pressure was building up in your stomach again, and you could feel Han’s cock swell more, ready to burst.

“Cumming!” you cried out.

“Me too, Honey,” Han said, thrusting in and out more. “Come on, Honey. Cum.”

Han hit your sweet spot once more, and with a final thrust, the two of you came at the same time. He filled you up so good, and you squirted all over his cock. Both of your chests were heaving, and Han collapsed on top of you. His head was against your cute sugar tits, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands released your wrists, your body was quivering, and Han tried to calm himself down from his high by kissing your damp skin.

“You okay, Honey?” Han asked breathlessly.

“Yeah,” you said, slowly catching your breath. “I missed you, Hannie.”

“Awww, I missed you, too.”

He caressed your warm cheek before leaning in to kiss your lips softly. You kissed him back, and your lips traveled up to his cute cheeks. Han giggled and kissed your cheeks in return. You blushed even more, if that was even possible.

“Hannie!” you giggled.

“You’re so goddamn cute,” he said, “The most kissable pink cheeks ever. My cute Honey in pink.”

Han kissed your cheeks again before he carefully got up, sliding out of you.

“I’ll clean you up,” he said.

He moved slightly away from the couch to grab the tissues from the coffee table, but he immediately noticed that the movie credits were scrolling down on the TV screen.

“Oh wow. Looks like we missed the whole movie,” Han said.

Your eyes widened, but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

“Wow, I guess we did,” you said.

“Therefore, I am better than that guy!”

Han put his arms up to flex them, giving out a wide, cocky smile. You giggled and nodded.

“Yes, Hannie, you are better than him.”

“Damn right I am! Hahahahahaha! He doesn’t even deserve your cutesy self.”

God, he's so sweet. Han grabbed the tissues from the box on the coffee table, and before he wiped himself, he cleaned you up, wiping all the white spilling off you. He then discarded the tissues in the trash, turned off the TV, and picked you up from the couch.

“Come on, Honey,” he said, holding you up bridal style. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

“Can we watch another movie afterward?” you asked.

“Of course. Whatever you want, Baby.”

He kissed your lips once more, and he carried you to the bathroom for the best aftercare you’ve had in a while: all full of tender kisses, massages, pink bubbles, and the scent of flowers and honey.

———————————・❥・———————————

tags: @enhacolor @yeonii08 @felixsonlyrealwife @staytinyluva @teukbyeol-xoxo @d4ily-n-sh1ne @you-dont-know-my-name @rileylovescats @ryvannanightshade-kpop @babystay7 @hunter-or-the-hunted @wilbursootsimp45678 @niku0704 @elisabeeee @the0twst0shrimp0mc @fandomtrash11 @hpnsfwaddict @bunbunbl0gs @star-my @demonicobsessions @fweakygyatt @ariaaleelynn @liv123sworld @harleyvaleska19 @theartisticlibrarian @warped-rabbithole @lily-5 @ava-lazaza @https-snw23 @mokazombie @mimiopla1 @seungmin225785332 @stxrlightshoogi @cherryyserenade @minniebitesfr @wolfchan4life234

[hwaslayer]

the space between us three (jyh) | fifteen.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they’ve built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing:single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, smut

⇢word count: 7.5k

⇢chapter content/warnings: light cussing, seonghwa is rebuilding himself lol let's give it up for him ok 😀, lots of bball talk, but also lots of sweet and affectionate moments (per usual hehe), whole chapter is pretty much focused on yunho x seora x y/n spending time together <33, it's all wholesome so not many warnings!

"Baby." Yunho covers his other ear with his free hand. "Where are you? The game is starting soon."

"We're parking now." He sighs in relief, nodding to himself as if you can see him. "Sorry, my love."

"That's okay, I just can tell she's looking for you."

"Aw." You respond, gathering your things as Sian shifts the gear to park and shuts off the car. "We'll be inside in a few, promise."

"Alright. We're on the right side, near the middle." 

"Okay. See you soon." And with that, the call ends. Sian and Noeul smile, grabbing their posters and little pompoms that they bought from the store. 

"You and Yunho are so cute. You can't even wait a few seconds before you see each other."

"In fairness, we're running a bit behind so he was getting worried." You add a little pep to your step, picking up the pace as you walk over to the gym. 

"Isn't there like, 5 minutes left before the game starts? He just wanted more time to see you and get his smooches in." Sian teases, making Noeul snort.

"Stop it." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you approach the gym doors, echoes of the loud crowd, dribbling and balls hitting the rims or backboards already ringing through the front walkway. It's crazy how even now, Yunho still manages to make you feel shy even with the smallest acts of affection— through check-in phone calls, through little gifts he leaves on your desks, cute texts in the morning. 

When you spot Yunho and the group sitting together on the bleachers, his eyes instantly meet yours and you're quick to wave. He smiles from ear to ear, waving you over. You, Sian and Noeul walk alongside of the court— careful not to interrupt practice occuring on the main floor. You catch a quick glimpse of Seora running through shooting exercises with her team as you work your way up the bleachers to meet her father.

"Hey baby."

"Hey." You greet Yunho, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Sorry, we wanted to get a few props on the way over. Plus, a little gift for Seora." You say as you slide onto the bleachers next to him, saying your hello's to Mingi and Seonghwa. You're glad Noeul and Sian agreed to join, hoping to cheer on Seora and give her extra support during her championship game. Your mother, your father and Wonwoo are on their way, safely rushing over so that they'll make it in time for tip off.

While you settle in with your man, Sian catches up with Mingi and notices how stiff Noeul is next to her. Seonghwa can't help but look over a few times— probably wondering why Noeul hasn't said much or seems to be avoiding him despite the small progress they've made to move forward after what's happened between them.

"Why don't you sit over there with Seonghwa?" Sian nudges Noeul. "He keeps looking over here and I know damn well he's not looking at me." Noeul almost lets out a pathetic scoff.

"I'm not gonna leave you."

"Please, I'll be good with Mingi, Y/N and Yunho. Just go." She encourages Noeul with another nudge. Noeul sighs, rolling her eyes— but she stands anyway, making her way over to the empty spot next to Seonghwa. She doesn't wanna keep having this weird, awkward tension with him. And quite frankly, he had been trying. He was putting in more effort to show her that he was serious about starting over— about trying to be her friend, about taking things slow, about seeing where things go. She was tired of harboring ill feelings towards him, especially if he was trying to prove otherwise. 

Though, she still had her guard up. Let's get that straight.

"Hey." She says, looking at him.

"Hey you." He smiles at her. "Glad you were able to make it to her game. I didn't think you and Sian were coming along."

"Yeah, we figured we'd come support. Why not? It'll be nice to see Seora kick ass on the court."

"Yeah, she's a beast on the court. Quite the show." Seonghwa chuckles. "Any other plans for today?"

"Not really. You?"

"There's this new exhibit at The Time Capsule. It's free admissions for a limited time period."

"Oh, I heard about it! I've been wanting to check it out, too." Noeul checks her phone. "Shoot, isn't free admissions about to end soon?"

"Tomorrow."

"Fuck." She mumbles to herself. "I'm busy tomorrow. Promised my parents I'd drive them around."

"Do you wanna check it out together after Seora's game?" Seonghwa looks at her. "No pressure at all, though. I'm sure they'll add more free admission dates randomly throughout the year while the exhibit is there, so you can always—"

"Yeah, I'm down." She cuts him off with a small smile. They agreed to take this slow and be friends, anyway. What does she have to lose? And when would she be able to see the exhibit otherwise? What if they don't add anymore free admission days while the exhibit is there?

"Really?" Seonghwa cocks a brow up, almost in disbelief that she agreed so easily. He wasn't used to it.

—FLASHBACK

Seonghwa and Yoori had just finished eating dinner at her place, and Seonghwa had been sitting on the couch flipping through the Netflix options trying to figure out what else they could watch tonight. He feels like they've gone through every possible option already, being that all they do is stay home and do .. this. Eat. Watch Netflix. Fuck. Cuddle. Sleep. He leaves. Repeat the next time he comes over.

Which, he loved in the beginning.

Now, though? The spark is gone. He wants something new and exciting. Something solid. Seonghwa is actually admitting he's tired of having something casual. It feels .. empty.

When he doesn't find anything to watch, he sighs. He looks over his shoulder to find Yoori still looking at something on her laptop with some papers next to her. Probably still glazing over some emails because she can never truly disconnect from work. She's sipping on a cup of tea, one that he made for her after dinner. It's chamomile with a dash of lemon and honey. He's got the measurements drilled in his mind like second nature because he does this for her so often.

Since, again, this is what they do. 

She'll be getting ready for bed in no time.

But, Seonghwa thinks the night is still young and there's actually a place he's been wanting to visit. He pulls up the post on his phone, approaching her at the kitchen island.

"Find something to watch?" She asks, eyes trained on the laptop still.

"No. I did find something else, though."

"Hm?" She hums.

"There's this new exhibit at The Time Capsule. It's free admissions for a limited time period, and I wanted to check it out with you if you were down." He says, showing her the post for the new exhibit at the nearby, modern city museum. He's seen footage of the exhibit and has taken interest in it. He [especially] doesn't wanna pass up the opportunity on free admissions, either. 

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"It's getting late." She looks at him, then out the window.

"It's barely 6:30pm. The museum closes at 10pm since it's also their 21+ event tonight."

"Mm. No, I'm not really in the mood to go."

"What, why? It's a free event. It'll be fun. Something different than us staying in like we normally do."

"Not really my thing?" She gives him a look, almost like she's disgusted. "Besides, isn't that what we initially agreed on? Just staying home and being peaceful behind closed doors."

"Yeah, but it wouldn't hurt to explore every now and then. Right?"

"Please, where is this even coming from?" She scoffs, making Seonghwa knit his brows.

"I thought you'd be excited to do something different for once, that's all."

"No, not really. I'm fine right here."

"You wouldn't wanna go anywhere? Do anything different from this?"

"What are you getting at, Seonghwa?" She sits the cup in her hand down before looking at him. "I'm confused as to why you're suddenly wanting different when the agreement was to take it slow and casual."

"And now things are changing for me." Seonghwa admits. "I'm tired of this routine, Yoori. I'm mainly tired of this routine, that's why."

"Well, I'm sorry, Seonghwa. I don't know what you want from me." She stands, crossing her arms at her chest, looking at him with full-on attitude. He hates the look she gives him sometimes. She can never step out of director mode, and it's something he's grown to despise. Work has become her life, and he doesn't think it's something he'll enjoy in the long run. 

Being put in the back seat for a job.

"I want you to be open to things like this. To step out of the house, even if it's to take a damn walk arond the neighborhood with me or to sit by the goddamn lake right around the corner from your place. I wanna go out on some nights to the club or a bar. Do something new like rollerblading no matter how stupid we'd look just to have fun. Go to the museum to analyze exhibits even if we won't remotely understand what the hell is going on. Shit like that! That's what I want." Yoori remains silent before sighing, setting her cup into the sink and shrugging.

"That's what you want and I don't have that."

"And that's the unfortunate part." He says lowly. "Maybe it was my fault for assuming we could try."

"Yeah. It was." He looks at her, brows knitted.

"Yeah." He stands, grabbing his jacket. "I think this is done, Yoori. It has been, don't you think?" She nods silently, looking at him with her head cocked to the side. As if he's some kind of chore now. A waste of time.

"I'm sorry."

"I am, too." 

—END

"Yeah, really."

"Alright then." Seonghwa returns the smile, feeling excited to finally be able to visit the exhibit with some good company. He's actually relieved at how easy that was— almost feeling like a breath of fresh air. No fuss, no fight, no explanation.He returns his attention to the court, reminding himself not to move too fast or set any expectations for this— he wanted to treat Noeul right as a friend, first and foremost. Lay the foundation properly and give himself time to heal. Fix his inner issues, work on himself before thinking about relationships and commitment.

He sees you and Yunho and realizes it's something he wants. Something he'd like to grow into and grow with, regardless of the time it takes him. It's a goal for him, and he'll work towards it. 

Sooner or later, the buzzer goes off, signaling the countdown to the last minute before the game officially starts. You link your arm with Yunho's, sliding your hand into his. You look up at him sweetly, letting him press another soft kiss to your forehead. You giggle, enjoying the moment as Seora listens to her coach run through the first play before the game begins. She briefly looks over, watching her father look down at you with all that love bursting from every bone in his body.

Watching her father smile down at you like you hold the sun, the moon, and the stars in your eyes. 

It gives her that warm feeling in her stomach— distracts her for a second, too much that she doesn't even realize she's smiling so big. 

"Hey." Chan-mi gently tugs on Seora's jersey, giggling near her ear. "Are you okay? Coach is running through the play. Did you hear anything?"

"Oh, yeah." Seora whispers back, smiling at her. 

"What were you looking at?"

"My dad and Y/N. They're being cute." Chan-mi looks over and giggles a bit more.

"So sweet."

"Alright, any questions? Concerns? We're okay to run this play, my starting five?" Coach looks at Seora, Chan-mi, and the rest of the starting five on their team with a smile. "We can do this. I believe in you girls. We've made it this far, and we can take it all the way to the championships." The buzzer goes off loudly, echoing in the gym. The crowd starts to cheer, getting both teams pumped up for the game and giving the girls the energy they need to get the game started on a good note. "Let's go, girls!" Coach yells loudly, clapping his hands— hyping the girls up as the starting five walks out onto the court to get into position. Seora steps into the middle, shaking hands with the jumper from the other team. 

Seora bends her knees slightly, adjusting her shorts up just enough.

"That's my girl." Yunho whispers, the crowd going silence to let the two focus at the center while the referee positions himself in between, ball in hand.

"Get 'em, ace." You whisper along, squeezing his hand.

Tip-off starts.

The jumper from the other team immediately jumps up with the ball and Seora knows that's not how you time your jumps.

And she's right.

Because the other jumper is about to hit the ground before the ball does.

She's got this in the bag. It's like second nature to her by now. 

Seora gives herself a few minutes, letting the ball linger in the air before she jumps to tip it over towards her team— giving them the head start to the game. You, Yunho, and the rest of your friends cheer loudly, giving them the energy to proceed down the court to execute their play and score their first basket. By this time, your mom, dad, and Wonwoo walk in, joining your group on the bleachers. 

"We made it just in time!" Your mom says, sitting on the bleachers in front of you. The rest of your friends greet your parents and your brother before returning their attention to the game ahead. It goes back and forth for awhile— both teams exchanging points, leaving the game to be a close one with one or the other only trailing by two or three points.

As they hit the second quarter, Seora's team falls behind. Yunho sighs, getting visibly nervous as he tries to cheer and reassure his daughter from the stands when she hops back into the game to relieve her teammates for the last few minutes.

At halftime, they're down by 6.

"Hey, ace. You're doing great, okay? Don't add to much pressure or work yourself too much. Just let the game unfold naturally." Yunho says as Seora briefly jogs over to grab some gatorade from him.

"Thanks, daddy." She waves at everyone else. "I'll try." He can tell Seora is feeling nervous and pressed— wanting to do her best to pull the team through for the last half.

"You can't carry the entire team on your back, babygirl."

"I know. But I can do my best to." She says, just before she jogs backward and shrugs. Yunho shakes his head and lets out a small scoff.

"She's just like you." You tap his knee.

"I don't know if that's a good or bad thing right now." He chuckles.

"She's got the grit and determination." You smile. "Don't worry. It'll be all good, love." 

Both you and Yunho watch as Seora quickly gulps her gatorade before rounding up with the team and coach, going over the play for the third quarter. Because they're down, coach knows they need to execute a whole new aggressive play to get the team back up. He scribbles on his clipboard, going over the new play and asking if the next five have any questions.

Then, the next quarter begins with the girls on edge. There's just so much anxiety and pressure to get the team back up instead of trailing behind even more. The third quarter starts off pretty slow, with both teams not able to make shots for a long while. Finally, Seora's team is able to pick up momentum again— getting their shots in properly. Yunho can tell Seora is starting to get too nervous with the way her leg is constantly bouncing at the bench. She continues to cheer on her team as they run up and down the court, doing their best to catch up. At one point, she looks over to the crowd, her eyes landing on you and her father. You give her a small smile, while Yunho mouths out some reassuring words:

It's alright, ace.

Relax.

You got this.

Don't let them get to you.

I love you.

She smiles, her heart relaxing—nerves calming just as the third quarter comes to an end. Her team is down by three. Close enough. If they keep it close and don't give the other team advantages, they can pull through and take the W. 

Seora hops onto her feet when coach tags her in, stretching her neck from side to side before she swipes at the bottom of her shoes— making sure they've still got good grip for the last quarter. She's got a good feeling, and she feels like she's got the energy to take her team all the way through to the finish line.

The quarter starts off tense, with Seora executing the plays effortlessly as usual. There's a few turnovers, but nothing her team can't bounce back from. It's a tight game, both teams exchanging points by making baskets every time the ball is in their court. 

And Seora is sick of the back and forth.

So, she takes matters in her own hands. Especially when time is ticking.

They don't have all the time in the world to be dancing around.

Seora calls out the play to her teammates once more, passing the ball to Chan-mi on the right. The other team begins playing hard defense, almost pushing Chan-mi to lose the ball. But, Seora dives in, taking the ball back to center to restart. She calls out another play just to throw the other team for a loop, her coach fully supportive of the last-minute change just to get a shot in before time runs out.

"Let's go, ace!" You and Yunho yell, standing for her as she takes her lead as point guard, running the full play with her teammates in order to take the shot at the right side of the court. The ball goes in, putting her team at a three point lead. The game continues to be incredibly close, but as long as their team continues to push the same momentum, you have no doubt they'll pull through.

Seora looks at you and Yunho, smiling from ear to ear as she makes the shot. You, Yunho and the rest of the group cheer loudly for her as she runs down the court to take on defense, giving her the boost of energy she needs to keep the energy going. 

"Run it back!" Yunho stands and yells when Seora's able to steal the ball from an opponent. "Run it back!" He repeats, his hands behind his head as he watches Seora drive the ball down the court for a layup— scoring another basket for the team and putting them up another 2 points.

"Yes, let's go!" You, your friends, and your family cheer loudly. "Good job, Seora!" Seora and her teammates high five each other before running back down the court, the clock ticking down with only three minutes left on the clock. Seora is on full defense mode, making sure the other team doesn't get a chance to score more baskets. It's probaby impossible to catch up by now, but still. 

Seora doesn't wanna let her guard down.

As the other team executes their play, they try to dribble past the defense Seora and her teammates are putting up. They pass the ball along between each other, the clock running out of time before they forfeit their chance with the ball. One of the girls finally takes a shot out of pressure, the ball barely hitting the rim and bouncing off. Chan-mi jumps for the rebound, passing the ball down to her teammate who is already on their side of court, near the basket— allowing them to shoot the ball from the right, outer three-point line.

She misses, but Seora is there to catch the rebound before anyone else can. She restarts, bringing the ball back to the top. She calls out the play and executes, the clock now ticking down with seconds left. The other team plays hard on defense, double-teaming any of Seora's teammates that has the ball. Chan-mi barely passes the ball over to Seora, and Seora immediately shoots the ball right before the timer runs out.

"Yes! Let's go!" You and Yunho yell loudly together as Seora makes the winning basket— bringing her team to the championships. Your entire group roars and stands up, cheering loudly as Seora, her team and her coach celebrate together on the court before congratulating the other team and shaking their hands. When families are able to greet their children on the court, Yunho runs straight to Seora— lifting her into the air and swinging her around in his arms. She squeals, holding onto him tightly until he puts her back down and presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"Congrats, Ace! You killed it out there!" 

"Thanks, daddy." She smiles before turning towards you. "Y/N!" She throws her arms around your torso. You hug her tightly and smile, giving her a good squeeze before letting go.

"Congrats, Seora! You were a beast." You say, handing her the small bag in your hand. "Got you a little something." She pulls back and gently takes the bag.

"Thank you. I'm glad you came. I was looking for you earlier and was worried you wouldn't come."

"Why wouldn't I come?" She chuckles and shrugs. "I'll always make it work."

"I wanna open this in the car, if that's okay."

"Of course." She looks up at you and smiles again.

"Thank you again. I really am happy you were here for my game." She looks at you, then at her faher. "I'm ready to go shopping, though." You and Yunho laugh.

"Alright, alright. Let's go hang out with your coach and team for a bit before we head home. Looks like he wants to have lunch at the bbq place across the street with everyone."

"Yum!" Seora says. "I could eat!" You laugh just as she greets your family and the rest of your friends, the entire group congratulating her while making their way over to the bbq spot across the street to celebrate with the team and their families.

"How does it feel to be headed off to the championships?" 

"Like I'm on top of the world." Seora says, tossing her duffle bag aside, sighing contently as she carefully places her MVP medal onto the kitchen island. "Frame this, daddy. Please. I'll need to cherish this forever." Yunho laughs.

"You got it."

"I'm gonna go shower so we can get to shopping. Ou, then I can finally put this on my purse for today!" She squeals, pulling out the Hirono plush keychain she got from you. You had given her a Hirono blindbox as her small present post-game; something she had apparently been talking about and eyeing for days now, per her father. 

"Can't wait to see that little cutie hanging from your purse." She smiles, giving you one last look of appreciation with the keychain in hand before rushing off to her bedroom with her things— leaving you and her father behind.

"Want anything to drink or snack on, baby?" Yunho asks as he shuffles through his fridge. "Seora and I cut some fruit up last night and made a little fruit bowl." He holds out a large clear bowl full of strawberries, mangoes, pineapples, grapes. 

"Sure, I could use some fruit." He laughs.

"Atta girl." He says, bringing out two small bowls for you and him. He scoops some fruit into both before heading to the couch with both in hand. "Here." He holds out a bowl.

"Thank you." You look at the fruit. "Ouuu, they look so pretty and fresh."

"Right? They're hella good." He immediately digs in, forking right into a slice of mango. "God damn." You giggle.

"Seora played a hell of a game today. And was named MVP by her coach. You must be a proud dad."

"Always." He smiles. "God, what a good day." 

"What does she do during off season?"

"Tournaments." He looks at you. "She never really stops playing, honestly."

"Really?"

"Mhm. She signs up for the youth recreational league at the nearby recreation center every summer. It's usually the same group of kids, lots of kids from her school join, too. It helps her continue to train over break."

"That's good. She likes to be busy, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, she does. Which, I guess, it's good. At least she's not always glued to her phone."

"Yeah."

"Her, Chan-mi, and their other friends always go out and explore. They rarely stay in and just doom-scroll or stay on TikTok, even though it may seem like it." You laugh.

"That's really good, love. You should be proud." The two of you continue to eat away at your fruit while going over the rest of Seora's birthday party details. You had helped Yunho book the perfect place for her party, along with placing the order for the decorations and cake. Yunho finalized the catering. Now, they just needed her list so they could get a final headcount and send out invites. 

Once Seora was freshly showered and dressed, she grabs her shoulder bag and clips the Hirono keychain, along with a few of her other smaller keychains onto it. She looks at herself in the mirror for the final time before spraying some body mist and heading out of her room.

"I'm ready." She stands in the hallway in her jeans and a light purple sweater with flowers printed on the front.

"You look so cute. I love that sweater on you."

"Thanks." She chuckles, walking by your side as you two slip into your shoes near the front of the door. "I can't wait to finally go shopping."

"I know. We'll find you a cute outfit for your birthday. I know we will." She immediately links her arm with yours as you begin to walk towards Yunho's car— leaving him behind to slip into his shoes and lock up alone.

"Heyyyy. I still exist, too. I'm paying, remember?" He calls out, patting down his pockets before locking up the house.

"Yeah, we know, daddy. Don't worry." The both of you turn and pause in your steps, Seora shooting her dad a look.

"Oh yeah, really?" He playfully scoffs, gently ruffling her hair. 

"Hey!" She says. 

"Let's not go overboard with the new outfits, okay? That's the only rule I have."

"I never said I was gonna go overboard." Seora says, climbing into the backseat. "I'm a responsible shopper!" She pauses before she buckles in her seatbelt. "Most of the time. I've only accidentally gone overboard during stationary shopping, but I don't always do it!"

"Mhm." Yunho chuckles, looking at you. "My ladies all buckled in and ready?"

"Yes." You respond just as Seora does. You look at her through the rear view mirror, giving her another small smile while Yunho takes off for the mall. You listen intently as she starts to brainstorm more ideas for her birthday outfit— her ideas having changed a bit since the last time you two talked. You can tell she's excited to see what's out there, to find what works, to find a new style that she could show off. 

On the way to the mall, Seora connects her phone to the bluetooth so she could pick and choose her favorite songs. You and Yunho sang along to most, the car ride turning into a full-blown karaoke session at one point. 

You arrived at the mall within a blink of an eye.

Seora immediately walked to her favorite store, her eyes lighting up at the new collection and spread throughout the shop. 

"Ace." Yunho's hands are dug deep into his pockets as he trails behind you two. He's a little scared, he's not gonna lie. He's not sure if he's scared to see Seora grow up so quickly right in front of his eyes, or if he's afraid for his wallet. Or both, perhaps. But, he decides to give her a friendly reminder to keep it cool, calm, and collected. "Just what you need—"

"Yes, right, yeah!" She says, already rushing off to the first section with you right behind her.

"And not anything unnecessary." Yunho finishes his statement, shaking his head with a small chuckle. Forget it, he thinks. Why the fuck was he being like this? It was for her birthday. He needed to let her do whatever the hell he wanted. Besides, he liked seeing this.

You and Seora taking your sweet time go through the each and every single item on the rack.

He was going to sit back and silently trail behind, waiting to whip out his wallet whenever you two were ready. But, his smile grew wider and wider every time Seora turned to ask for his opinion or to excitedly show him the new options she'd hang over her arm before going off on how she envisioned the outfit in her head. 

Once she was ready [and damn near drowning with all the clothes on her arm], she ran off to the dressing room with you— wanting you to be in the room with her. It was another step forward in your relationship with Seora, more progression in your relationship, and you couldn't be more ecstatic. Grateful. You helped set her clothes along the wall of the dressing room, lining up the shirts and bottoms by outfit ideas. Yunho sat outside, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. He realized he hadn't taken an 'artistic' shot in awhile to post on his Instagram, and he was quite overdue. Hopefully, he could snap a photo today. It could be his way of updating whoever followed him on life's adventures.

Updating them that he was happy, that Seora was happy.

That all was well and he felt loved. At the equal amount of love he was giving. Everything felt balanced for once.

He could hear the two of you laughing while trying to decide the best way to mix and match the oufits, until finally, he heard Seora squeal a few times. 

"Wait, this is it!" She squeals. "These are the two! This is perfect!"

"Yeah?" You laugh, looking at her in the mirror. "It's super cute. I agree on both." She nods. "Turn around?" She turns. 

"Cute?"

"Mhm! Okay, face front again." You direct her. "Pose." She does a cute pose, throwing up the peace sign with her lips puckered. "Yes girl, there it is!" She laughs. "Again— mhm, cute!" Yunho laughs to himself hearing the cute girl talk outside.

"Wait, can we take a mirror picture?"

"But, I look gross." You chuckle.

"You don't." She gently wraps her arm around yours to tug you closer, leaning her head against it as she brings up her phone. "1-2— Pose!" She throws up the peace sign again— this time, sticking her tongue out, while you also throw up the peace sign and make a cute face. She laughs, admiring the photos. "Yup, I want these outfits. This is it." She looks at herself again in the mirror, observing the outfit from side to side, back to front. "See, I wouldn't have been able to do this with dad."

"I heard that." Yunho murmurs right outside the door, making her giggle.

"I love you!" She calls out before undressing and putting on her own clothes. You separate the 'no' items from the 'yes' items, making sure everything Seora wanted was in the right hand. 

"I love you, too." Yunho grumbles. But, just before he could throw a dramatic [unserious, playful] tantrum, the door swings open and out comes a happy daughter and girlfriend. Suddenly, he's no longer hurt by the fact that Seora doesn't think he can provide top tier fashion advice— he can't even stop his smile from growing when he sees how naturally happy the two of you are together. "Sounds like we had some success with the stuff you two picked out?"

"Yup!" You raise your left hand. "This is the no group." Yunho's nods and chuckles.

"And that's the yes?" He points to your right hand, causing you to nod. 

"I'll let you take care of these." You hand the clothes over to him. He lets out a teasing sigh, taking the items from your hand and throwing them carefully over his arm. 

"Yeah, yeah." Yunho chuckles, taking out his wallet from his back pocket while you and Seora follow from behind. "Let me think about which card to put this on."

"Thank you, daddy." Seora clings onto his free arm and looks up at him with her cute, boba eyes. He smiles down at her and ruffles her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head like he always does.

"You're welcome, ace. As long as you're happy." As Yunho gets to the register to pay for Seora's outfits and accessories, Seora looks out to the mall, her eyes landing on the milk tea stand in the middle of the walkway outside of the store.

"Y/N, can you come with me to get milk tea, please? I'm parched after trying on those clothes." You laugh, nodding.

"Alright. Come on, let's go get some milk tea. What does your dad want?"

"Taro." 

"What do you like?" 

"I like being adventurous." She taps her chin as you approach the milk tea booth, eyeing the specials they have. "Like, that oreo thai milk tea. Ou, or that black sugar banana milk with boba? Oh my god."

"You should do it." You respond in a sing-song tone with an approving look.

"What'll you get?"

"I'm simple like your dad, too." You giggle. "I usually just go for a strawberry matcha latte if I want something sweet, or a roasted oolong milk tea if I want something that's not too heavy."

"Those are good, though. Strawberry matcha latte is so good. Are you craving that for today?"

"Yeah, I suppose I can go for that today." You smile as you approach the cashier. "Decide on which one you wanna taste?"

"Definitely can't stop thinking about the black sugar banana milk with boba. It's probably gonna be really sweet, but I need it. I played my butt off today." You laugh and nod.

"Got it." You order for the three of you, tapping your card against the reader just as Yunho makes his way over— his long legs striding over in two, three, four big steps.

"Hey, woah. You couldn't wait for me to get those?"

"It's fine." You look up at him with a smile. "Let me get the milk tea." He tuts.

"Babe." He whines a bit under his breath.

"Stop." You chuckle, grabbing the receipt from the cashier before thanking the associate. "We got you taro."

"That's perfect. Thank you." He says, planting a kiss against your temple before throwing his arm around Seora— tugging her to his side and causing her to giggle. "Wanna walk around some more?" 

"Yeah, yeah!" Seora says. Once the drinks were made, the three of you continued to walk around the mall— mainly to window shop. Seora grabbed herself a few little goodies consisting of more stationary supplies, keychains, and small, inexpensive blind boxes. Towards the end, she found a pair of chunky black boots that she couldn't stop eyeing. Yunho could tell she wanted them badly, despite the fact that she kept brushing it off and telling him she didn't want it. 

That he bought enough for her, that she was more than satisfied.

He could see it in his daughter's eyes.

So, he walked in there, had her try on the shoes— watched her face glow. The moment he realized she couldn't stop staring at herself in those shoes, he knew she had to have the pair.

After he bought her the boots, Seora's eyes landed on a small crowd of people populating in an area.

"Wait, let's go check it out." She nods at the section. "There's people heading over there. I'm curious." You and Yunho nod. It's not long before you find out that they were holding a light exhibit at the end of the mall, which Seora dragged both you and Yuhno into before going home. It was a free exhibit, and luckily, the three of you caught it on its last day. Despite the small crowd that formed at the entrance, there weren't too many people walking through the exhibit itself— making it easier to take photos.

"Y/N, oh my god. Look. Isn't it so cute?!" Seora says, dragging you by the hand towards the fairy made up of bright lights.

"She is cute." You laugh. "I've never seen such a huge light exhibit at the mall."

"It's amazing." She looks up in awe.

"Okay, pose right over there." You let go of her hand and direct her to stand near the fairy's wings. "Cute!" You show her the picture.

"Oh gosh." Seora laughs. "It is cute. Here. Can I take yours? Then, the big ol' giant can come join you."

"Excuse you." Yunho responds.

"What?" Seora asks as she focuses on taking your picture, smiling at the way you pose. "Pretty!" She shows you the photo, causing you to nod in approval. 

"Aw, thank you, Seora. Your angles are amazing. You take better picture than me and Wonwoo combined. My parents will definitely agree on that." You snort.

"Okay, okay. Dad, go be cute and stand next to Y/N." She gently pushes her dad towards the fairy to stand next to you. Yunho throws an arm around you, tugging you close to his side. He makes a silly face and throws up the peace sign, making Seora laugh. "You're not serious. I said be cute!"

"Am I not cute?!"

"Dad, please." You gently smack his chest also in retaliation.

"Ah—Okay, okay." He laughs. The two of you smile for the first photo before Yunho kisses your cheek for the next. Seora directs him to hug you from behind, making you giggle. She snaps a few candid photos— satisfied with what she was able to capture. 

"Perfect." She says, showing you the photos she took on your phone. "Isn't it super cute?"

"Damn, ace. You do take good photos."

"I know, I taught you, remember?" She laughs, taking the lead further down the exhibit. You catch up and walk alongside of Seora, the both of you continuing to look at the lights in awe— snapping photos every chance you get. Yunho couldn't help but chuckle to himself, trailing behind just to watch you two interact. It made his heart swell with love, affection. Overwhelming joy. 

His girls drinking milk tea together under the lights. The exhibit took 30 minutes before the three of you finally hit the end. A staff member noticed you and Yunho switching off to take photos with Seora, so they offered to take a couple of group shots for you. When you looked at the photos, you couldn't help but almost tear up at how happy Yunho and Seora looked alongside of you. How happy the three of you looked together.

How complete you looked.

It was decided you'd grab Seora's favorite fried chicken and kimchi fried rice from her favorite restaurant on the way home, part two of the karaoke session kicking in after a successful shopping trip and day out together post-playoff game. Back at Yunho's, everyone settles down quickly— changing into pajamas before gathering at the dining table to eat together. Seora talks a bit about the upcoming championship game as a way to calm her nerves. She talk about how she hopes she'll play well just like she did in today's game. You and Yunho reassure her, reminding her just how much of an amazing player she is no matter what the outcome ends up being. Yunho follows up by telling her how proud he is of how far she's come and how excited he is to see where she goes. 

To see where this all takes her. To see her grow.

And you are, too. Hopefully, alongside of Yunho, for years to come.

After dinner, you and Seora help Yunho clean up in the kitchen. You're cleaning the dishes, while Seora is wiping down the table and Yunho is taking out the trash. Your mom had quickly stopped by to say hi, bringing over some cake for the three of you to quickly indulge in for dessert. Once the kitchen was neat and tidy, Yunho pulled out the couch to turn it into a bed, dropping some blankets onto the surface. Yunho gets himself settled on one end with you on the other end. Seora lays sideways [somehow comfortably] in between you and her father, with her head on your lap— your hand gently threading through her long hair and massaging her scalp.

"I want to invite him to my birthday, but I dunno if he'd go." Seora shows you a picture of a boy in the grade above, supposedly one of the cuter boys in that class that all the girls in her class have a crush on. She also has a crush on him, but she won't say it out loud with her father being so close in proximity. 

"Why not? You never know unless you ask, Seora." 

"I'm afraid of rejection. Like, as in, he won't be able to go to the party." She talks in code with you, giving you a quick look.

"How could he say no to you?" You chuckle. "Besides, you said the boys in your class are cool with him. He might be okay hanging out with them for the day."

"Excuse me, who is this boy we're talking about?" Yunho cocks a brow up as he sips the cup of tea in hand. He props Seora's feet onto his lap, gently adjusting her crooked fuzzy socks. "Acting like I can't hear this conversation." 

"Nobody, dad." Seora giggles.

"All of a sudden he's a nobody." You give him a look, subtly shaking your head to stop him from pressing on. He mouths out a single 'what?' before glancing back down at his daughter. Then, back at you.

"Seora is just going through her guest list for the party."

"And are you satisfied with it?"

"I think so." Seora sighs, sinking into your hold as you continue to rake through her hair with your fingers. 

"I say you should just invite everyone you've got on that list." She briefly looks up at you and you wink. She smiles before nodding, scrolling through her Instagram feed again.

"Yeah, I will. Why shouldn't I, right?"

"Let me see the list, ace."

"Once I'm done." She emphasizes.

"Am I gonna see some new names?"

"Perhaps."

"Can I at least meet these new names beforehand? Give them a little interview before they step through the hall doors—"

"Jeong Yunho." You mutter as you give him another look, making Seora laugh.

"Daddy got in trouble."

"Hey, I'm just trying to do my daddy duties."

"Daddy duties gotta relax during birthday girl's party." Yunho looks at you before giving off a resigned sigh.

"Fine, fine. But if these newcomers try anything, I'll be quick to show them the door."

"Dad's a gentle giant, he wouldn't." Seora says, setting her phone down to pay attention to the TV.

"Yes the hell I would." Yunho adds. "You think I wouldn't for you, ace?"

"Daddy. You wouldn't cause problems. You could never." She says, squealing a bit when Yunho gently tickles her foot and squeezes her toes.

"Just protecting my little girl, that's all." You smile at the two's playful banter. As the zombie movie continues, you and Seora chime in with your thoughts on each scene that unfolds. There's a lengthy debate that goes on for awhile about survival skills and the best way to stay alive the longest, even as Seora starts to yawn.

Then, the yawns trickle down to you.

Eventually, it gets a little too quiet. Seora's commentary has stopped. Sooner or later, your own comments and giggles have stopped. Yunho feels like he might be watching the movie by himself at this point.

And he's right.

He slightly turns his head to the right, seeing you tucked against his side— fast asleep. Seora's head is still on your lap. He smiles to himself, silently and slowly tugging up the blankets to completely drape them over your bodies in the meantime.

"My sleepy, beautiful ladies."

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