𐚁 ﹒@mawlevolent is my main blog, so asks/follow back happen through it
I've been writing since I was thirteen, from short little chronicles to OC backgrounds to worldbuilding to roleplaying with friends — and later doing so in english on tumblr. Nowadays I'm mostly writing for Jujutsu Kaisen.
𐚁 ﹒I'm against censorship in writing and in any form of art. If you are an "anti", you are pro-censorship, so yeah, educate yourself.
I write for JJK characters and none of them are below 18yo.
includding naoya, kenjaku, mahito, megumi, itadori, shoko, iori, nanami, todo, uraume, toji, geto, gojo, kirara, hikari, yaga, mei mei, choso, noritoshi, tengen, jin, kaori, etc. I will write them fucking anyone from the list, if so I wish.
"Character X and Y are minors!" "These characters are brothers!"
Wrong, they are pixels in my screen. Tools for my story to be developed. They are fictional, therefore they can't be hurt.
I don't project feelings into characters, they are simply that, characters of a fictional piece, as in movies, games, plays; if you think portraying something fictional in media reflects on who you are as a person, I strongly advise seeking help and educating yourself on how to consume any kind of media, reality and fiction should not cross its boundaries; you should not think gege akutami endorses incest, grooming, misoginy, cannibalism and mass murder because he wrote mei mei, ui ui, naoya and sukuna, huh.
I know this very well, do you?
Don't drag your issues to my door and expect me not to slam it right in your face.
I'm not referring to real things that hurt real people nor actual crimes, please educate yourself before you even consider talking to me.
𐚁 ﹒And I love comments, don’t be shy, I’ll yap about the story with you because I’m the target audience for my fics, so ofc I’m excited to talk about it.
⟢ author’s note: ngl i just used this as an excuse to go through their pictures and come up with scenarios on the go. i hope you guys like it though! just a silly scenario to help myself out with my own boredom.
you're back in seoul visiting the boys. all of them missed you, but one in particular wants you to stay forever. can he confess to you in time?
pairing: ot8!skz, lee minho x fem!reader
tags: swearing, mentions of eating + drinking, slight angst, suggestive jokes, kys jokes, all-around chaos, slight suggestiveness towards the end
Synopsis: Your sister is convinced Seungmin deserves better than you—and that she should be the one to have him. But after spying on you, breaking into your flat and trying to expose your “affair” with Minho, she learns that Seungmin already knows everything—and still chooses you.
Cw: suggestive content
a/n: i deadass wrote this out like 5 times untill i was happy with it lmaoao, I’m actually wanting to do atleast another part so i’ll focus on some of the other boys as well, i just didn’t want it to feel to crowded and forcedd. Alsooo im so sorryy that it feels so smushed together tumblr block limit is the bane of my existence. AnywayyI hope you all enjoy <33
Wc: 18.5k
Part 1
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The cabinet had looked considerably less complicated in the woman’s hallway. She’d stood beside it with one hand resting on the top, talking about how her husband used to take it apart whenever they moved and put it back together in twenty minutes. Half an hour, maybe, if you hadn’t done it before. She’d said this while Changbin carried one of the glass doors out to the car and Jisung crouched beside a sandwich bag full of screws, nodding as though he’d already understood the entire construction from looking at it once. By the time she drove away, you were still feeling quite pleased with yourself. It was exactly the size you’d wanted. Dark wood, ribbed glass, brass handles. Your records had spent months in boxes against the wall, and the cabinet was supposed to be the thing that made that part of the flat finally look finished instead of somewhere you’d only recently moved into. An hour later, it was spread across the rug in twelve pieces and Jisung had stopped saying the woman’s husband was probably just good at DIY. “Don’t lift it yet, I haven’t—Changbin, wait, my hand’s still there.” “I’m not lifting it. I’m moving my knee because I’ve been sitting like this for twenty minutes.”
“Yeah, but the whole thing’s on your knee, so when you move—just, hang on.” Jisung lowered his face until his cheek was almost against the wood, trying to see beneath the rail he’d been holding in place. His hair fell into his eyes again. He blew at it, missed, and carried on feeling for the screw hole with one finger. “Move it back a little. No, your other way. That’s my way.” Changbin stared down at him. “You said back.” “I know, but from where I am—okay, don’t move. Just stay exactly like that for a second.”
Felix was kneeling beside the coffee table with the screws separated into careful rows, although the only instructions the seller had given you were six photographs printed from her phone. Four were too dark to see the fittings. One appeared to be upside down. The final picture showed the completed cabinet beside a vase of dried flowers and wasn’t helping anyone. You were holding a shelf across your lap because Jisung had handed it to you ten minutes earlier and hadn’t yet asked for it back. “Are you sure that’s the bottom?” you asked. Jisung didn’t look up. “Pretty sure.” “You were pretty sure the other one was the bottom.” “No, I said it could’ve been. That’s different.”
Felix glanced over at the panel beneath Changbin. “The other one has the holes for the feet.” Jisung’s hand stopped beneath the rail. Changbin looked down. “This one doesn’t?” Nobody answered immediately. Jisung slowly pulled his arm out, picked up one of the printed photographs and turned it towards the lamp. “No, because—wait. Is that a foot there, or is it just a mark on the rug?” You leaned towards him. “That’s absolutely a foot.” “Right. Okay.” He looked at what they’d already attached, then rubbed the back of his wrist across his forehead. “It’s fine. We can turn it over later.”
“You’ve screwed both sides into it.” “I know.” “You said it’d be obvious before we got this far.”
“It is obvious now.” You laughed despite yourself. Jisung looked up at the sound, his mouth twitching before he glanced back at the frame. One sleeve of his sweatshirt had fallen over his wrist. You reached across and pushed it up, folding it once above his elbow so it wouldn’t slip again. He went still while you fixed it, then caught your fingertips briefly when you passed the screwdriver back. “Thanks,” he murmured, already looking down again. Seungmin arrived carrying wine, a bag of cans and absolutely none of the practical things you’d asked him to bring. He let himself in, kicked off his shoes and stopped in the doorway. There was a long enough silence that you turned towards him. Seungmin looked at the cabinet pieces, then at you. “I thought you said it was assembled.”
“It was.” “So what happened?” “The woman took it apart.”
His eyes moved to Jisung, who was now removing a screw he’d only just put in. “Why?” Felix glanced up from the screws before answering. “So it would fit in the car,” Felix said. Seungmin stepped farther into the room. “Her car?” You answered before he could ask anything else. “She delivered it,” you told him. He looked at you properly then, waiting. You started laughing before he even said anything. “I know. We didn’t think about that.”
“No, because why would she take it apart before putting it into her own car if she already knew it fitted?” He set the wine on the coffee table, forcing Felix to drag two rows of screws out of the way. “Did she just not want it in one piece anymore?” “She said her husband always dismantled it when they moved.” “Maybe she hated him.”
Jisung lowered the screwdriver. “Can you help instead of making the situation feel worse?” “I’ve just got here. I’m still finding out what the situation is.” “The situation is that I need one of the middle-sized screws. Felix knows which one.”
Felix pointed to a row. Seungmin picked one up, examined it as though there might be a trick involved, then passed it over. For perhaps eight minutes, he genuinely tried. He held one end of the rail while Jisung fitted the bracket, found the small packet containing the feet and noticed that the glass doors had different hinges. Then he opened the wine, poured himself a glass and started reading the seller’s profile aloud instead. “She’s listed a dining table as ‘lightly used’, but there’s a burn through the middle of it.” You craned your neck to see his phone. “Maybe that’s why she photographed it with a tablecloth.” “She’s put ‘easy restoration project’.”
Felix was still sorting screws. “That usually means broken.” “The cabinet said ‘excellent condition’.” Everyone looked at the cabinet. One side was scratched. The base was upside down. Changbin still couldn’t take his hands off it. You took the glass Seungmin offered you. “Don’t show me anything else she’s selling. I don’t want to know.”
Minho came in from the kitchen when he heard the cork go back into the bottle. He had the tea towel over one shoulder and a small streak of flour or salt across the front of his shirt. “You started drinking?” “You were cooking,” Seungmin said, already reaching for another glass. “I’m still cooking.”
“That doesn’t stop you drinking.” Minho accepted the wine and came over to inspect the cabinet. He circled it once, crouched beside Jisung and pressed his fingers against the bracket. “This is backwards.” Jisung looked at him. “It isn’t.”
“It is.” “The photograph’s taken from this side.” Minho picked up the page and held it beside the panel. “No, it isn’t. Look at the door.” Jisung leaned closer. Felix shifted over to see. Changbin, still trapped behind the frame, tried to look upside down. “Oh,” Jisung said eventually.
Minho held his hand out for the screwdriver. Jisung gave it to him with less resistance than he’d given anyone else all evening. Minho removed the bracket, turned it and refitted it while drinking between screws. When he finished, he handed the tool back and sat on the floor beside your legs. “Both of them are backwards,” he added. Jisung stared at the matching bracket on the other side. “Could you have said that before you sat down?” “I thought you’d work it out.”
“I have been working it out for an hour.” “Mm.” You rested your fingers in Minho’s hair, lightly scratching near his scalp. He leaned into your knee without taking his eyes off the cabinet. A timer sounded from the kitchen. Minho didn’t move. It sounded again. You nudged his shoulder. “Is that important?”
“Probably.” He took another mouthful of wine, then caught your wrist and kissed the inside of it before getting up. “Don’t let them attach anything else, honey.” Jisung looked up as Minho started away. “We’re not waiting for you,” Jisung called after him. “You should.”
The cabinet was back on its side by the time Minho returned to the kitchen. You kept trying to help for a while. You held the rail, found a washer beneath the sofa and checked the listing photograph for any sign that the central shelf was supposed to tilt slightly. You were nearly certain it wasn’t, although by then you’d lost enough confidence that you didn’t insist. Seungmin had moved to the boxes of records. At first, he was only clearing them out of the way. Then he opened one and started going through it, sitting cross-legged with his drink balanced between his ankles. You noticed when he went back through the same stack a second time. “What are you looking for?” He held up one of the sleeves. “You don’t have any of our albums.”
“I do.” “Where?” “I have all your music on my phone.”
“That’s not what I said.” Seungmin looked back into the box, pushing several records aside. “You’ve got two copies of this, for some reason, but not one thing with any of us on it.” “That’s sooo not true. One of those was a present, and I literally do have one of yours.” His eyebrows lifted. “Where is it?”
“In my bedroom.” “That’s Jisung’s.” “It’s been beside my bed for months.”
From the rug, Jisung looked over. “Which one?” “The one you left on the floor.” “I thought I’d lost that.”
“You’ve slept next to it, like, twenty times.” Jisung frowned as though trying to picture your bedroom from memory. “I don’t really look at the floor.” “That’s because your clothes are usually covering it.”
He started laughing and the screwdriver slipped out of the screw head. Felix reached over to steady the bracket before it moved. “Okay, wait, why am I involved now?” Jisung asked, still laughing. “Seungmin’s the one judging your record collection.” “I’m not judging it. I’m just finding out that she’ll spend actual money on everybody except us.” “Oh my God, you’re being sooo dramatic. I didn’t even buy both copies of that one.”
“You kept them.” “Because I like it.” “More than anything we’ve released, apparently.”
You put the shelf down and got up. “Move.” Seungmin shifted enough for you to sit beside him, although you still had to push one of his knees out of the way. He immediately rested it against your thigh again. “There,” you said, pulling a record from near the bottom of the box. “You bought me this.” “That doesn’t help you.” “It proves I own something you chose.”
“It proves I have better taste than you.” “You chose it because you liked the cover.” “I chose it because you’d like the music.”
“You said, and I remember this very clearly, ‘It’ll look pretty in your room.’” Seungmin took the sleeve from you and looked at it. “Both things can be true.” An old receipt slipped out and landed across your knee. He picked it up before you could. “Thirty-eight pounds?” You leaned in, trying to read the faded ink. “That says thirteen.”
“It does not.” “Thirteen pounds eighty.” “There’s no decimal.”
“It’s faded.” “The rest of the receipt isn’t faded.” “You’re making that up because you want me to feel guilty.”
“I don’t need to. You paid nearly forty pounds for an album and then stole Jisung’s instead of buying ours.” “I didn’t steal it. He abandoned it.” Jisung, now half under the cabinet again, said, “I didn’t abandon it. I forgot where it was.”
“That’s the same thing after three months.” Minho came out carrying a spoon. “What’s the same thing?” Seungmin answered before you could. “She’s trying to claim Jisung’s album because she doesn’t own any of ours,” Seungmin said. You looked over your shoulder. “No, because he’s leaving out the entire part where I have your music, I have things you’ve given me, and I’m not buying albums from people who bring boxes of them into my flat whenever they visit.” Jisung looked over from the cabinet. “That happened once,” Jisung said.
“You left twelve.” “They were different versions.” “They were blocking the wardrobe.”
Minho put the spoon against your mouth before you could continue. “Taste.” You took the bite, still looking at Seungmin. He was smiling into his glass now, obviously far too pleased with himself. “It needs something,” you said. Minho’s hand stayed beneath your chin. “What?” “I don’t know. It’s nice, but it’s—wait, let me try again.”
He fed you another bite. Seungmin leaned in with his mouth open. Minho moved the spoon away without even looking at him. “You always say it’s fine.” “It usually is. Why are you asking people if you’ve already decided something’s wrong?” “I’m not asking you.”
“You put the spoon near my face.” “I was reaching past you.” Seungmin caught Minho’s wrist and stole what was left anyway. Minho stared at the empty spoon. “That was hers.”
You laughed and leaned back against the sofa. Minho sat behind you, one leg stretched alongside your hip, and took your glass when you offered it over your shoulder. Seungmin found something to put on. The first song began quietly enough that Felix asked him to turn it up. Changbin stopped holding the frame long enough to stretch, only to catch it again when it tilted. Felix started singing under his breath while he worked. Minho stayed on the floor behind you, his palm warm against your side, until something hissed from the kitchen and he got up halfway through a sentence. You tried helping again after that. Jisung asked you to pass him the measuring tape. You stood, took two steps and stopped when Seungmin called your name. He had another sleeve in his hand. “You’ve got three copies of this.” “I absolutely don’t.”
“There are two in here and one by the player.” “The one by the player is Minho’s.” Minho called from the kitchen, “No, it isn’t.”
“You said it was.” “I said I liked it.” You turned towards the kitchen. “You literally brought it here.”
“I carried it from your bedroom.” “That doesn’t sound right.” “It was under your bed.”
“That could’ve been Jisung’s too.” Jisung made a muffled sound from beneath the cabinet. “Why am I suddenly responsible for everything on your floor?” “Because most of it is yours.”
The measuring tape remained forgotten until Felix asked where you were going with it. You looked down at your empty hands. “Oh. I haven’t got it.” Seungmin found it beneath the edge of the sofa and opened it across the rug. Instead of passing it over, he pressed the metal end against your wrist. “What’re you doing?” “I wanted to know how long your arm is.”
You stared at him. “Why?” He extended the tape towards your elbow, eyes narrowing at the numbers. “I don’t know. I thought it was longer.” “That doesn’t even—give it here.” You reached for it. Seungmin pulled his hand back, and you leaned over him farther than you meant to. He caught your wrist when your knee slipped from the rug. The tape snapped shut between you. You nearly landed on top of the record player, but Seungmin hooked an arm around your waist and dragged you sideways instead. You grabbed his shoulder, taking him down with you. His glass tipped, although Changbin somehow caught it with one hand while still holding the cabinet with the other. “Thank you,” Seungmin said, already trying to get one of your wrists beneath his arm. Changbin put the glass on the table. “I don’t know why I did that.”
You twisted onto your side, laughing too hard to get any leverage. Seungmin caught you around the middle and pulled you back against him. “You started this,” you said, trying to push his knee away with your foot. “No, you threw yourself at me because you couldn’t wait five seconds.” “You were holding it away on purpose, and now you’ve lost it anyway.”
“It’s under the sofa. We know where it is.” “That’s not the same as helping.” Seungmin had both your wrists by then, although his grip kept slipping because he was laughing. You could probably have got free if you’d put any real effort into it. Instead, you looked across the room. “Binnieee, help me.” He was holding the cabinet upright while Felix adjusted something near the back. “With what?”
You tried to point at Seungmin with the hand trapped against his chest. “This.” Changbin glanced at Jisung. Jisung was reaching into the cabinet with his entire arm. “Please,” you added as Seungmin started pulling you farther across the rug. Changbin let go. The cabinet dropped with a heavy crack. Jisung ripped his arm out. “Fuck—Changbin, are you serious?” “She called me.”
“She’s wrestling Seungmin. I had my hand inside this.” Changbin was already coming over. He bent, wrapped one arm around Seungmin’s middle and lifted him cleanly away from you. Seungmin’s laugh broke into a startled sound as he grabbed Changbin’s shoulders. “No, wait—put me back. We weren’t finished.” “That was too quick,” you said, sitting up. Changbin looked between you. “You asked me to help.”
“I know, but you didn’t even give me a chance.” “A chance to do what?” Seungmin was still half hanging against Changbin’s side, trying to straighten his shirt with one hand. “She was nearly getting out.”
“You had both her wrists.” “Yeah, but she’d started using her legs.” Changbin stared at him for a moment, then set him down and walked back towards the cabinet without answering. “He’s annoyed now,” you murmured. Seungmin watched him go. “He ruined it and somehow he’s annoyed.”
Jisung pointed towards the frame. “Can somebody hold this before it lands on Felix?” Changbin went back to the cabinet, Seungmin caught your ankle before you could stand, and you both ended up sitting against the sofa, still breathless. You looked at the cabinet from the floor. One side sat higher than the other. The first door was leaning against the wall beneath a tea towel because Minho had said somebody was going to kick the glass. “It looks awful,” you said. Seungmin followed your gaze. “It looks fine from here.” “No, it doesn’t.”
“You’re too close.” You pushed yourself up, walked into the hallway and looked back. It looked worse. Seungmin waited. “Well?” “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You’ll like it when it’s done.” “Do you genuinely believe that’s happening?” He looked at Jisung and Felix, who were lying on opposite sides of the frame trying to reach the same hinge. “Not really.”
You came back and dropped onto the sofa. Seungmin stretched his legs over your lap before you were properly settled. The loose shelf beside you had become a table for the wine, Minho’s phone and two half-empty cans. You looked at it for several seconds, then put your glass down with the others. “At least this part’s useful.” “You could just keep it like that.” “I’ve paid for a very expensive plank.”
“It’s better than the cabinet.” You started laughing again, leaning back until your head rested against the sofa. Your phone lit beneath the edge of the cushion. You saw your sister’s name and enough of the message before you turned it over. I know you said I was reading too much into that picture from Mum’s, but Seungmin looked embarrassed. He’s probably too soft to tell you, and I just think— You pushed the phone farther beneath the cushion. Seungmin was complaining about the order of the records now and hadn’t noticed. He’d found one you’d apparently filed in the wrong box and was explaining why it didn’t belong there while you drank enough wine to stop caring where any of them lived.
Minho came back and stole his phone from beneath the bottle. He sat on the arm of the sofa for a while, one hand resting on the back of your neck as he listened to Seungmin talk. Then he got drawn into a conversation with Changbin about where the cabinet was supposed to stand, moved it fifteen centimetres to the left and decided you’d been right the first time. By then, nobody could remember where it had originally been. Jisung had one drink over the course of the evening, taking small mouthfuls whenever Felix stopped to check a fitting. The warmth showed more in his face than his behaviour. He was still focused enough to finish things, but each time he looked towards the sofa it took him longer to look away. He came over once to retrieve his glass and stopped beside your knee. There was pencil across his cheek again. You rubbed at it with your thumb. “You’re making it worse,” he murmured. “You’ve got it in your hair now.”
“Minho tried using a wet finger.” “What was wrong with that?” “He’d just touched the sauce.”
You laughed, still wiping at the mark. Jisung caught your wrist, kissed the centre of your palm and leaned down for your mouth. The kiss barely lasted before Felix said his name from the rug. Jisung stayed close for another second. “I really don’t want to go back.” “You’re nearly done.” “You’ve been saying that for ages.”
“I haven’t. Felix has.” “That’s worse because I trust him.” He kissed you again, quick and warm, then went back to the cabinet with his glass still in his hand. Seungmin watched him crouch beside Felix. “He’s going to give up.”
“He’s too stubborn.” “No, look at him. He’s not even listening.” Jisung was holding a hinge while Felix explained something, but his eyes had drifted towards the sofa again. You smiled when he caught you looking. He lowered his head, took another drink and made Felix repeat whatever he’d just said. Seungmin turned towards you. His arm had been stretched behind your shoulders for long enough that you were already tucked against his side. “You know, this still doesn’t make up for the albums.”
You groaned. “Oh my God, you’re still going.” “I’ve had time to think about it.” “That’s never good.”
“I’m just saying, you’ve got an entire box of records from people you’ve never met, and then ours is apparently too much commitment.” “That’s soo not what I said. I said I already have all the music, you lot leave things here anyway, and I’m not spending money just so you can come over and make fun of which photocard I got.” “I wouldn’t make fun of you.”
“You absolutely would.” “I’d just ask why you picked the version where my hair looked bad.” “You’d say that about every version.”
“No, there were two good ones.” You turned towards him. “Name them.” Seungmin opened his mouth, then seemed to reconsider whatever he’d been about to say. You kissed him before he found an answer. His laugh caught against your lips, one hand sliding from the back of the sofa to your waist as you shifted closer. You’d meant it as a quick interruption, mostly because he’d been talking for too long and you knew it. Seungmin followed when you pulled away. Your leg slipped over his lap. His fingers moved beneath the back of your top, warm against your skin, and the next kiss settled more slowly.
You could still hear Felix and Jisung talking over the music. Something moved in the kitchen. Changbin walked past carrying one of the loose panels. None of it disappeared, but Seungmin’s mouth was soft from the wine and his thumb had started tracing the same small line against your side. You drew back enough to breathe. He came with you, lips brushing the corner of your mouth before finding it again. The forgotten conversation returned somewhere between kisses. “You still haven’t said which versions,” you murmured. “I’m not discussing that while you’re doing this.” “You started it.”
“I know. I’ve changed my mind.” You smiled into his mouth. The kissing stayed loose, interrupted by laughter and the record changing beneath the needle. Seungmin’s fingers slid into your hair when you leaned farther over him. You caught his jaw and kissed him again, slower this time, until his hand tightened beneath your shirt. Across the room, Felix asked Jisung for the screwdriver twice. Jisung didn’t answer until Changbin touched his shoulder. The first door finally closed without scraping. Felix opened it again, adjusted the hinge and closed it once more. Jisung fitted the second while Changbin held the frame. Minho came out of the kitchen and stood behind them with his glass, offering unasked-for advice until Jisung told him he’d lost the right to criticise after abandoning them for dinner. Minho kissed the back of Jisung’s head and kept talking. Eventually, both doors stayed shut. The handles weren’t quite level. The cabinet rocked faintly when Jisung took his hand away. You saw both things. You drank what was left in your glass and said nothing.
Jisung stayed crouched in front of it, opening one door, closing it, then trying the other as though it might behave differently if nobody watched. Felix looked underneath. “We still need to put the feet on.” Jisung sat back on his heels. “Tomorrow.” “It’s going to scratch the floor.” “Put something under it. I can’t—no, I’m actually done. I don’t even want to see the feet again tonight.”
Felix considered the small packet on the table, then tucked it safely beneath the instructions. Jisung got up. You were still half across Seungmin, one hand resting near the back of his neck. Jisung came over and sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, his knee touching yours. He waited until you looked at him. “D’you wanna come to bed with me?” His voice was quiet enough that it sat beneath the music. There was nothing demanding in it. He just looked tired, warm from the drink and far too hopeful for someone trying to act casual. You smiled. “Yeah.” Seungmin kissed you once more before moving his hand from beneath your top. He shifted his legs out of the way, fingertips brushing yours as you sat up. Jisung didn’t take your hand until you were already standing. The kitchen smelled warm and spicy behind you. Minho was tasting the sauce again. Felix and Changbin were trying to move the cabinet without letting its unfinished base touch the floor. Jisung led you down the hallway. He waited until the bedroom door closed before kissing you.
His hands found your waist straight away, drawing you into him with all the impatience he’d spent the last hour swallowing. His mouth was warm from the drink, the kiss messy for the first second because he’d moved too quickly. You caught his hair and pulled him back just enough to look at him. Jisung’s eyes dropped to your mouth. “I’ve been waiting forever.” “I know baby.” You giggle You kissed him again and walked him backwards. He followed without looking, hands sliding beneath your top as the backs of his knees found the mattress. He sat when you pressed lightly against his chest, gazing up at you while you moved between his legs. You climbed onto his lap. Jisung breathed out sharply, hands closing around your hips as your weight settled over him. He was already hard beneath you, hips lifting before he seemed to realise he’d moved. You tightened your fingers in his hair. His head tipped back with a soft whine, throat opening beneath your mouth. “Again,” he breathed.
You pulled once more, then kissed beneath his jaw. Jisung’s hand started higher under your shirt. You caught his wrist and returned it to your waist without stopping the kiss. He left it there, fingers flexing against you. You moved slowly over him. His lips parted against your neck, breath catching as he pressed upwards to meet you. When he tried to hurry, your hand in his hair slowed him again. “Please,” he murmured, and you felt the word against your skin. You kissed lower, leaving the first mark beneath his jaw where his collar would nearly cover it. Jisung made another quiet sound and tilted his head farther for you. The second was darker, just visible above the neckline of his sweatshirt when he shifted. Someone knocked. Jisung went completely still beneath you. A second knock came before either of you moved. Minho spoke through the door. “Honey, your sister’s here. Something about a certificate.” Jisung dropped his forehead against your shoulder. “No.” You closed your eyes. “I know.”
“We’ve literally just—” “I know.” “Don’t answer.”
“She’ll stay there.” “Let her.” You started to move. His arms tightened around your waist for one last second before he let you stand. Jisung stayed on the bed while you fixed your top. His hair was a mess from your hands, his lips swollen and his breathing still uneven. He looked down at himself and groaned quietly. “I’m not going out there.”
“I wasn’t asking you to.” “Good.” You bent and kissed his forehead before leaving him to recover. Minho was waiting farther down the hallway. He’d turned the heat down in the kitchen and had your phone in one hand. “She messaged again.”
You looked at the screen. I’m nearby anyway. I’ll just come up. “She’s at the front door?” “I didn’t let her farther than the mat.” Minho tucked the phone into your hand, then smoothed the back of your top where it had caught underneath itself. “You okay?” “Annoyed.”
“Mm.” He kissed your temple. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” Your sister was standing just inside the open doorway with her coat still fastened and a folder held against her chest. Her expression was pleasant in the careful way that meant she was already prepared to be offended. “Sorry, I know it’s late. Mum was asking about that old county music certificate and I said I’d collect it because I was nearby anyway. I did message.” “You told me you were coming after you’d already decided.”
“Oh, don’t make it into a thing. I’m not staying.” Her smile widened slightly as she glanced past you into the flat. “It sounds like you’ve got everybody here.” “They helped me build something.” “That’s nice.” Her eyes moved towards the living room, where Changbin and Felix were still shifting the cabinet while Seungmin sat on the sofa, turning over the record. “You do keep them busy.”
You looked at her. She adjusted the folder in her hands, smile still there. “I meant it’s sweet. They’re always doing things for you.” “Which certificate does Mum want?” “The cream one with the gold seal.”
“They’re nearly all cream and most of them have gold seals. What year?” “I don’t know. She said you’d know which one mattered.” “She can tell me tomorrow.”
Your sister sighed softly, as though you’d made an incredibly simple favour exhausting. “I was trying to save her having to come over. She’s already got enough to deal with, and I thought it would take two minutes, but it’s fine. I can tell her you didn’t know where it was.” “I know where the box is. I don’t know which one you’re asking for.” “Yes, I heard you.” Her voice stayed light. “You don’t need to get defensive.”
You stared at her for a second. She smiled again and looked over your shoulder. “Is Seungmin all right? He looks a little… I don’t know. Quiet”. “He’s listening to music.” “I know. I didn’t mean right now.” She tilted her head, lowering her voice as though she were sharing something kind. “He’s very understanding, isn’t he? Sometimes I wonder whether people take advantage of that because he doesn’t like making a fuss.”
“Stop deciding what he feels.” “I’m not deciding anything. God, you’re so sensitive whenever I mention him.” She gave a small laugh, almost affectionate. “I just think he’s lovely. You know that.” The bedroom door opened behind you. Your sister’s eyes shifted immediately. Jisung came out rubbing one hand over the back of his neck. He’d straightened his clothes, although not particularly well. His hair was still pushed up on one side, his lips visibly swollen, and the mark beneath his jaw had already begun to darken. Another showed above the loose collar of his sweatshirt when he turned towards the living room. He glanced at your sister, then at you. “I left my drink out here.”
“It’s by the sofa.” Jisung nodded and started past. The collar of his sweatshirt had folded underneath itself at the back. You caught his sleeve, pulling him to a stop, then freed the fabric and smoothed it down before letting him go. Jisung stood easily beneath your hands, attention already drifting towards the glass on the coffee table. Your sister lifted her phone. The movement was quick, half hidden behind the folder, but you saw the camera angled towards you. “Did you just take a picture?” She lowered the phone. “No.”
“You did.” “I was checking whether Mum had replied.” “With your camera open?”
Her expression shifted into mild disbelief. “Oh my God, I didn’t deliberately take a photograph of you. It opened when I picked it up.” “Show me.” “I’m not handing you my phone.” She laughed again, quieter this time, as though you were embarrassing yourself. “I don’t know why you’re acting like there’s something here worth photographing.”
Jisung had stopped a few steps away. He looked from her phone to you but didn’t come back. Your sister’s eyes moved over the marks on his neck again, then returned to your face. Her smile became almost tender. “Aw. You’re always fussing over them.” You heard exactly what sat beneath it. Jisung, already turning towards his drink, didn’t react. “I thought it was sweet,” she added when you didn’t answer. “You’ve got them all letting you look after them. Even the ones you wouldn’t expect.” Her eyes flicked briefly towards the sofa. Seungmin was still where he’d been, one knee tucked beneath him while he spoke to Felix about the record. He hadn’t noticed the phone or the comment. “Delete the picture,” you said.
“There isn’t one.” “I watched you take it.” Her pleasant expression tightened around the edges. “Fine. Maybe I took one accidentally. You were standing there together and I thought—actually, never mind. I don’t need to explain every little thing when I was only trying to help Mum.”
She unlocked the phone, tapped the screen and held it towards you for barely a second. “There. Gone. Happy?” You didn’t trust her, but the folder was still empty, dinner was cooling and you were done letting her stretch the evening any farther. “Ask Mum what year she wants. I’ll take it to her tomorrow.” “I can collect it.”
“I’ll take it.” Your sister looked at you for a moment, then gave another small sigh. “Okay. Whatever’s easiest for you.” She stepped backwards into the hallway. Before leaving, she glanced past you one more time—at Jisung picking up his glass, at Minho moving between the kitchen and the table, at Seungmin curled into the sofa as though none of this required his permission. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Have a nice night,” she said sweetly. “Try not to keep them all too busy.”
You closed the door before she could soften it into another supposed joke. The lock clicked beneath your hand. For several seconds, you stayed there, listening to the lift doors open farther down the corridor. Minho appeared beside you without crowding, his fingers touching lightly between your shoulders. “She gone?” “Yeah.” “Good.”
He returned to the kitchen when you didn’t say more. Jisung was standing near the living-room doorway with his drink untouched in one hand. The marks on his neck looked darker beneath the light now. He waited until you looked at him. “Do you still wanna come back?” There was a little uncertainty beneath the question, the earlier urgency softened by the interruption. He didn’t move towards you or assume the answer. You crossed the space between you and took his free hand. “Yeah. Come on.” Jisung set the glass down without drinking from it. This time, you pulled him towards the hallway. The music followed you as far as the bedroom door. ౨ৎ The music reached you before the lift doors opened.
It stopped halfway through whatever section they were working on, somebody called something you couldn’t make out, and then the same bass line started again while you were still walking down the corridor. The practice-room door had been left open. You slowed when you reached it, partly because you didn’t want to walk straight through the middle of rehearsal and partly because it was easier to stand there for a second and work out what you were looking at. Six of them were in the room. Felix was sitting beside the speaker with one shoe off, rubbing at the back of his ankle while Jeongin drank water near the mirror. Hyunjin was still marking through something despite the music having stopped again, watching his own reflection while Changbin explained where he thought he was supposed to cross. Minho stood a little further back with his hands on his hips, listening. You understood enough of what they were saying to know it was about spacing. After that, they lost you. You’d picked up bits over the years because it was impossible not to when you were dating eight people who could turn a conversation about dinner into a discussion about breath support, timing or whether somebody had been half a beat late. You knew what a count was. You knew what they meant when they said they were marking something. You could usually tell when a formation looked crowded, although you couldn’t necessarily tell anyone why. You were much better at knowing when they were tired. That part was obvious. Seungmin noticed you while reaching for his water. His whole face lit up.
He sat up quickly enough that the bottle tipped against his knee, caught it before it fell and immediately waved at you with his other hand. Felix followed his gaze, smiled and lifted his hand too. You waved back at both of them, and then Seungmin pointed at the empty space beside him. You stayed where you were for another few seconds because somebody was crossing in front of the door. Seungmin patted the floor twice. You laughed and went over. “You came upstairs,” he said as soon as you were close enough, catching your wrist before you’d even put your bag somewhere sensible. “I thought you were going to wait downstairs.” “I was, and then I heard all this.” “That’s a terrible reason to come closer.”
“Hi, Seungminnie.” “Hi.” He smiled again, softer this time, and linked his arm through yours as you sat beside him. “You could’ve told me. I would’ve come down for a minute.” “You were working.”
“They’d survive.” You looked at him properly. His face was flushed from rehearsal, hair damp around his forehead and standing up slightly at the back. You reached over and pressed the worst piece down. Seungmin held completely still while you did it. The hair sprang up again as soon as you moved your hand. His eyes narrowed. “It didn’t work.” “It did for a second.”
“You’re smiling.” “That doesn’t mean anything.” “It means I look stupid.”
“You don’t look stupid.” He made a small dissatisfied sound but didn’t bother trying to check the mirror. Instead he settled back against the wall, his arm still linked with yours, and you rested your head against his shoulder while Changbin started explaining the crossing again. “What are they changing?” you asked after a minute. Seungmin tipped his bottle towards the middle of the room. “The bit after the second chorus. It looked cramped when we watched it back. We’ve moved Changbin slightly and changed where Hyunjin opens out.” You watched for a few seconds. “Is that why they keep doing the same bit?”
“Mhm.” “I thought the song might just be repetitive.” Seungmin looked down at you. You smiled into his shoulder. He laughed quietly, then went back to watching rehearsal. “You’d tell us if it was bad, right?”
“I always tell you when something’s bad.” “That’s true.” “And I’m very supportive about it.”
“That part is debatable.” You started lifting your head. Seungmin immediately tightened his linked arm and kept you where you were. You didn’t say anything about it. Neither did he. Minho called them back into place a moment later. Seungmin reluctantly untangled himself, squeezing your wrist once before standing. Jeongin passed close enough on his way back to say hi and briefly squeeze your shoulder, then they were moving again. This time you tried to watch the whole thing. Felix rejoined. Changbin crossed behind Hyunjin. Jeongin moved through the centre while Seungmin came forward on the left. He glanced towards you as he passed, and you gave him a small thumbs-up. His mouth twitched. Minho noticed you a few seconds later. His attention caught in the mirror. He didn’t stop or miss anything, but something in his face softened when your eyes met. You lifted your fingers in a little wave. He looked away before the next count.
You watched the section twice more. By the final run, you had a vague idea of what they’d been changing, although if anyone had asked you to explain it you would’ve been in trouble. When rehearsal finally stopped, the room loosened all at once. Hyunjin dropped down beside Felix. Changbin headed for the air-conditioning vent and stood beneath it with the front of his shirt pulled away from his chest. Jeongin disappeared in search of his phone. Seungmin collected his water and came straight back over to you. “I watched that one properly,” you told him as he sat down. “Did you?” “Yes.”
He waited. You knew exactly what he was waiting for. “You looked good.” “That wasn’t—” He stopped himself, smiled despite trying not to, then took a drink. “Fine. I’ll take it.” You linked your arm through his again. “You should. I don’t compliment just anyone.”
“You compliment Felix every time he changes his hair.” “Because he never changes it. I had to say something.” Seungmin gave you a look but let it go. Minho came over with a towel around his neck. Up close, he was somehow even sweatier than he had looked from across the room. His shirt was dark through the centre of his chest and at the back, his hair damp enough that a strand had stuck to his temple. You pinched the front of his shirt between two fingers and pulled it away from him. “Jesus. That’s disgusting.”
“I’ve been dancing for three hours.” “I know. I can see it.” Minho looked down at your hand still holding his shirt. “Then stop touching me.”
You let go of the fabric, caught him by the back of the neck instead and pulled him down for a kiss. He made a quiet sound against your mouth, one hand settling at your waist. It wasn’t long, but he stayed close when you pulled away. You wiped your cheek where his damp hair had touched it. “Still gross.” “You did that yourself.” “I was being supportive.”
“You could support me from over there.” Seungmin made a small amused noise beside you. Minho looked at you again. “How was it?” “Good. Really good, actually.” You glanced towards the middle of the room, where Hyunjin and Changbin were still discussing something while Felix lay flat on his back. “The last few looked better than when I first came in. It wasn’t as… bunched up.”
Minho nodded straight away. “That was the spacing. Changbin was coming across too early, so Hyunjin didn’t have enough room when he opened out. We moved him back half a count, but then Seungmin was having to compensate on the other side, so we changed where he was landing and—” You kept looking at him. You were listening. You just weren’t following anymore. Minho continued for another few seconds, apparently unaware that somewhere around half a count the words had stopped attaching themselves to anything in your head. Slowly, you turned your face towards Seungmin. He took one look at you and folded over laughing. “Don’t,” you muttered. That only made it worse. Minho stopped. “What?” You looked back at him. “I was with you until half a count.”
“That was almost the beginning.” “I know.” Seungmin was laughing into your shoulder now, which was deeply unhelpful. “I understood the bit about it looking less crowded,” you added.
“That was your bit.” “Exactly. We should’ve stayed there.” Minho’s mouth pulled into a smile. “You asked what we changed.”
“No, I said it looked good.” “You were interested.” “I am interested. I just don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
That made Seungmin laugh again, though quieter this time. Minho reached down and briefly squeezed the back of your neck. “It looked better.” “Thank you. That’s all I needed.” “You could’ve said that thirty seconds ago,” Seungmin said. You leaned more of your weight against him. “I was trying to be a good girlfriend.”
“You are. Just not a useful choreographer.” “I’ve never claimed to be.” Changbin called from across the room, “Why are you talking about choreography like anyone asked you?”
You looked over at him. “Aw, thanks, Binnie.” Changbin looked over, entirely unimpressed. “Anytime.” He shook his head and went back to his phone. Minho bent and kissed your forehead. “Give me fifteen minutes, honey.” “You told me ten.”
“We ran over.” “You were already done when I got here.” “We clearly weren’t.”
You looked towards the others, most of whom were now either sitting or lying on the floor. “They look pretty done.” Minho followed your gaze. “Fifteen.” You let him go. Seungmin stayed beside you for another few minutes while the room gradually emptied. The conversation wandered away from rehearsal completely. He asked what you’d done that afternoon, and you told him about losing twenty minutes of your life because you’d gone into a shop for one thing and then couldn’t remember what the one thing had been. “You still didn’t remember?” “No. I bought toothpaste because I was embarrassed to leave with nothing.”
Seungmin laughed. “You might’ve needed toothpaste.” “I bought three tubes last week.” “Why?”
“They were on offer.” He considered that. “So now you have four.” He shook his head, smiling, and leaned his temple briefly against yours. When Minho finally disappeared towards the changing rooms, Seungmin looked after him, then back at you. “He was in a bad mood before you came.” “You said.”
“No, I mean properly. Not angry. Just tired and annoyed because they’d been stuck on that part forever.” You looked towards the door Minho had gone through. “He seems okay.” “He is now.”
There wasn’t any teasing in the way Seungmin said it. You squeezed his arm. He glanced down at your joined hands and then changed the subject, telling you that Felix had tried to convince everyone to order food earlier and had somehow ended up with four different menus open before anyone agreed on anything. By the time Minho reappeared, the conversation had turned into Seungmin complaining that nobody ever wanted the same thing until somebody else had already ordered. “You’re still here,” Minho said. Seungmin looked at him. “She likes me.” “I know.” Minho had changed into a black button-up and dark trousers, his hair still damp at the ends but no longer plastered to his forehead. He looked tired now that he wasn’t working. You stood and kissed Seungmin’s cheek before letting go of his arm. “Bye, Minnie.”
His face brightened again. “Bye. Have fun.” On the way out, you ended up stopping outside Chan and Jisung’s studio because Jisung opened the door just as you were passing. “Oh.” His face brightened. “You’re still here.” “Leaving now.”
“Wait, come listen to something before you go.” You immediately shook your head. “It’ll take ten seconds.” “You said that last time.”
Jisung paused with one hand still on the door. “That did take longer than expected.” “Forty minutes, Hannie.” “You kept talking over the bit I needed you to hear.”
“I was asking whether I could leave.” Chan appeared behind him, looking amused and tired. “She’s on a date. Let her go.” “I just want to know if she hears it too.”
“Hears what?” you asked. “There’s something under the vocal. I can hear it every time the line starts, and he says it’s fine.” Chan leaned one shoulder against the doorframe. “I said we can fix it tomorrow.”
“That’s not the same as fine.” You looked between them. “I’m probably the worst person in this building to ask.” “That’s why I’m asking you. If you hear it, then it’s definitely obvious.”
You stared at him. Jisung realised what he’d said. “Not because you’re stupid.” “Great recovery.” “You know what I mean.”
“I really don’t.” Chan laughed and caught the back of Jisung’s sweatshirt before he could try dragging you inside. “Go. I’ll deal with him.” Jisung looked past you towards Minho. “Are you getting food?” You glanced towards Minho before answering. “Probably,” you said.
“Can you bring me something?” Chan started closing the door. “Goodnight.” You called before the door could close. “Hannie,” you called. Jisung’s head appeared through the narrowing gap. “I’ll see what there is.”
His smile arrived instantly. “Love you.” “Love you too.” The door shut. Minho’s hand settled at the small of your back as you headed towards the lift. The lift arrived. Once the doors closed, the noise from the corridor disappeared so quickly it felt strange. Minho leaned back against the mirrored wall. Without rehearsal around him, you could see the tiredness more clearly. He rolled his right shoulder once, small enough that you might not have noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him. You reached over and took his hand. His fingers threaded through yours automatically. “Long day?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed his thumb along the side of your hand. “We kept fixing one thing and then finding something else.” “You could’ve cancelled tonight.” Minho turned his head. “Did you want me to?”
“No. I would’ve understood.” “I know.” He looked down at your hands for a moment. The lift hummed beneath you. “I wanted to come home with you.”
There wasn’t anything to tease in that. You lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. Minho turned your wrist before you could lower it and pressed his mouth briefly to your palm. The doors opened. ౨ৎ You’d both said you would get something easy on the way home. You had meant food somebody else had made already. Minho had apparently meant food that required less effort than usual. You found him in the refrigerated aisle reading the back of a packet. “That says marinate.” “It says ten minutes.” “That’s how it starts.”
He glanced over. “You say ten minutes, then while that’s sitting there you decide we might as well make something else, and then I don’t see you again until there are five bowls in the sink.” Minho looked at the packet once more. “I want you sitting down tonight,” you added. “That’s literally the point.” He put it back. “Thank you.”
“We can still get noodles.” “Noodles are fine.” “And dumplings?”
“Obviously.” He took the basket from you and started walking again. The conversation moved on before either of you could turn dinner into an argument. You told him about a message you’d received earlier from your mother asking whether you still had a cardigan you were almost certain had disappeared three house moves ago. Minho listened while comparing two packets of noodles, occasionally making small noises to show he was still following. “She swears I left it at hers,” you said. “I haven’t even seen that cardigan since university.” “You probably did leave it there.”
“Why are you taking her side?” “I’ve seen your cupboards.” “That has nothing to do with it.”
“It has a lot to do with it.” You watched him put one packet back and choose the other. “My cupboards are organised.” Minho looked at you. “Mostly.”
He smiled and dropped the noodles into the basket. By the time you reached the next aisle, he had added yoghurt, strawberries and the juice you liked without asking. You noticed but didn’t comment immediately. It wasn’t until he picked up a cereal you actually liked instead of the one already sitting in your cupboard that you looked over. “You’re replacing my food now?” “I’m buying breakfast.” The answer was so matter-of-fact that you smiled. “So you are staying.”
Minho looked genuinely confused. “I thought I was.” “Good.” That was all there was to it. You carried on down the aisle. A few minutes later, you spotted a small cake tucked beneath the noodles. You lifted it out. “You don’t even like this one.”
“You do.” You looked at him. Minho was already comparing two bottles of sauce. You put the cake back. At the checkout, you took your phone out while he unloaded the basket. “I’m paying.” Minho glanced at you. “Okay.”
You should’ve known. You stood close to the card reader while the cashier scanned everything. When the total appeared, you moved your phone towards it. Minho’s watch reached it first. The machine beeped. You stared at his wrist. He started packing the bags. “You’re such an asshole.” “You were too slow.” “I was literally holding my phone over it.”
“You hesitated.” “I did not hesitate.” Minho put the strawberries on top of one bag, clearly more interested in not bruising them than in defending himself. Minho handed you the cake. “Keep that flat.”
“You’re ignoring me.” “I heard you.” He picked up the heavier bag and headed for the doors. ౨ৎ The cabinet was still standing when you got home. You checked before you even took your shoes off. One handle remained slightly higher than the other. A piece of folded cardboard was wedged beneath the left side, and the middle shelf had already developed a suspicious- looking dip beneath your records. Minho followed your gaze. “Don’t.”
Minho walked over and pressed it shut with one finger. The cabinet rocked. You pointed at him. “See?” He looked at the cabinet, then at you. “That’s not because I touched it.” “It was fine before.” “It’s held up with cardboard.”
“Exactly. Delicate. Leave it.” Minho opened his mouth, thought better of whatever he was about to say and carried the shopping into the kitchen. You followed him. Dinner stayed simple. Actually simple, by Minho’s standards. You put music on from the living room while he started the noodles and you dealt with the vegetables. For a while you talked about nothing important: whether the strawberries would still be good tomorrow, somebody in the building who had apparently started leaving their shoes outside your door, a video Felix had sent the group chat earlier that you hadn’t watched yet. Then you remembered something you’d meant to ask Minho days ago. “Did you ever call your mom back about that thing with the cupboard?”
He glanced over from the stove. “What cupboard?” “The one she wanted moving.” “That was my aunt.”
“Oh.” You paused with the knife halfway through a mushroom. “Did you call your aunt?” “Yeah.” “And?”
“She moved it herself.” You looked up. “Why did she call you, then?” “She wanted me to tell her whether it would fit.”
“Did it?” “No.” You waited. Minho kept stirring the noodles. You started laughing. Minho looked over, already smiling because he knew exactly why. “Why are families like this?”
“She said she could make it work.” “Did she?” “She cut part of the shelf.”
That made you laugh harder. Somewhere in the middle of it, Minho drifted closer to inspect what you were cutting. You noticed his hand appear beside yours, quietly pulling one of the mushroom pieces towards himself. You stopped. Minho cut it in half. “Did you seriously just recut my mushroom?” “It was huge.” “It was fine.”
He gave you the sort of look that said it very obviously had not been fine and reached towards another one. “Nope.” You stole it first and ate it raw. Minho stared at you for a second. “You’re ridiculous.” You were still chewing when you bumped your hip into his and reached past him for the sauce. He moved over to let you in, laughing under his breath, and mercifully left the rest of your mushrooms alone. They ate on the floor because the coffee table was still covered with leftover cabinet screws and an instruction sheet somebody had drawn an angry face on. Minho sat with his back against the sofa, one knee bent. You settled beside him close enough that your shoulder stayed against his. The food was good.
You told him so, which resulted in him quietly pushing the last dumpling from his bowl into yours without comment. You looked down at it. “You wanted that.” “I’m full.” “You ate faster than me.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m still hungry.” You picked the dumpling up and held it towards him. Minho looked at it, then at you. “Half.” He leaned forward and bit half from your chopsticks. You ate the rest. For a while, the conversation wandered through whatever came to mind. Minho told you that Jeongin had almost walked into a camera stand earlier because he’d been looking at his phone. You told him about the dog in the shopping bag from work, the woman insisting with her entire face that she had no idea where the barking was coming from. “You didn’t say anything?” Minho asked.
“What was I supposed to say? ‘Excuse me, your handbag has a respiratory system’?” He laughed, head dropping briefly. “There were six of us in the lift,” you continued. “Nobody looked at her. The dog barked twice, and we all stared at the numbers like our lives depended on getting to the eighth floor.” Minho shook his head. “You should’ve asked what breed the bag was.” You looked at him. He was already smiling into his bowl. “That was terrible.”
“I know.” You leaned into his shoulder anyway. After dinner, Minho retrieved his phone from the counter and pulled up the rehearsal video. You groaned when you saw it. “I’m not testing you.” “You say that now.”
“I want to see something.” You moved onto the sofa and put your legs over his lap while he found the right clip. He showed you the first version, then one from later in rehearsal. You watched both properly. “The second one looks better.” Minho scrubbed back. “Why?” You hesitated. “It just… doesn’t look as cramped. Everybody has more space.”
He nodded. “That’s what we were fixing.” “Great. I’ve learned something.” “You already said that at practice.”
“Yeah, but now I know why.” Minho played it again, then started explaining what they had changed. This time, he stopped himself halfway through the technical part and glanced at you. You smiled. “Thank you.” “I saw your face.”
“Good.” He laughed softly and put the phone down. As he did, his right shoulder rolled in a small, uncomfortable movement. You’d noticed it in the lift. You reached over and pressed your thumb into the muscle near his neck. Minho flinched. “Shit.” You frowned. “That bad?.” “You surprised me.”
“You’ve been doing that all night.” “Doing what?” “That.” You copied the little shoulder roll. “Every few minutes.”
Minho looked down at his own shoulder as though he hadn’t realised it was visible. “It’s been tight since yesterday.” “Yesterday?” “It’s fine.”
You pressed again, more gently. His entire shoulder tensed. “Yeah, that looks very fine.” Minho didn’t answer. You moved your legs away from his lap and shifted behind him. “Turn around.” He gave you a look. “Come on. I’m not doing anything weird. I’m trying to help.”
“I know.” “Then move.” Minho sighed, but he did. He sat on the floor between your knees, back against the sofa. You put your hands on his shoulders and immediately understood why he’d been moving strangely. “Jesus.”
“What?” “This is horrible.” “Very comforting.”
“You know what I mean.” You worked your thumbs slowly into the muscle above his shoulder blade. His head tipped forward, hands settling loosely around your ankles. For a few minutes, you barely spoke. Traffic moved somewhere below the windows. Each time you found the worst part of the knot, Minho’s fingers tightened briefly around your ankle. “Too hard?” “No.”
“You sure?” “Keep going.” His voice had gone quieter. You did. After another minute, you moved his hair out of the way so you could reach higher. His shirt kept bunching beneath your hands. “This is annoying me.”
“My shoulder?” “Your shirt.” Minho glanced back over one shoulder. “I can’t get to anything properly.”
He smiled slightly. “Convenient.” “Oh, shut up.” You tugged the collar. “Take it off or suffer.” Minho undid several buttons and slid the shirt away from his shoulders, leaving it hanging loosely around his arms. You went back to work. His skin was warm beneath your palms. You could feel the tension easing slowly, though the whole right side of his back still felt harder than it should. “You should’ve said something.”
“You noticed anyway.” “That isn’t really the point.” Minho’s thumbs moved absently over your ankles. You pressed lower along his shoulder blade. He exhaled and let his head rest back against your knee for a second. There was something very Minho about the fact that he would quietly carry an aching shoulder around for two days and then act vaguely surprised when somebody noticed. You bent slightly. “Better?”
“Yeah.” “Actually?” “Actually.”
You continued for another minute. Then realised you weren’t really massaging anymore. Your hands had slowed. One rested at the back of his neck, thumb moving idly over his skin while Minho’s fingers traced the side of your ankle. He noticed before you did. Minho turned. He shifted onto his knees between your legs, open shirt still hanging around his arms. You looked at him. Minho’s hand slid from your ankle to your calf. You caught the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. The first kiss was soft. He stayed against your mouth for a moment, then kissed you again, one hand moving to your waist as you shifted closer to the edge of the sofa. There was no hurry. You could still feel the heat of his skin beneath your palms. Minho kissed you slowly, then along the corner of your mouth, his thumb moving under the hem of your top. You smiled when he followed you as you pulled back for a breath. “Hi.” Minho looked at you. “Hi.”
“You’re very close.” “You did that.” “Did I?”
His answer was another kiss. The phone disappeared somewhere between the cushions when Minho moved up onto the sofa. One knee settled between yours, his weight careful even as the kiss deepened. You pushed his shirt farther from his shoulders. Minho’s hand moved beneath your top, warm across your back. “You still smell like rehearsal,” you murmured when his mouth moved to your jaw. “I showered.” “I know.”
“Then stop complaining.” “I’m not complaining.” Minho looked up. You tightened your legs around him. “That’s what I thought.”
You pulled him back down before he could get smug about it. His hand moved higher beneath your shirt, then stopped when his fingers reached the edge of your bra. He looked at you. You nodded. Minho caught the hem of your top and pulled it over your head. It landed somewhere beside the coffee table. For a moment, he simply looked. Heat crept over your chest. “Don’t.” “What?” “You’re making me self-conscious.”
His expression softened. Minho bent and kissed the skin just beneath your collarbone. “My pretty girl,” he murmured. It was quiet enough that it felt more like something that had slipped out than something he’d meant to say. You threaded your fingers into his hair and pulled him back up to your mouth. The lock turned. At first, your brain didn’t place the sound. Then the latch moved. The front door opened. Minho lifted his head. Your sister stepped into the apartment. She stopped. Her eyes went straight to the sofa: Minho’s shirt open, your top on the floor, your bare shoulders. For one second, she didn’t look embarrassed. She looked pleased. “I knew it.” The words slipped out before she seemed to realise she’d said them. Minho moved immediately. He reached behind him, caught the throw from the back of the sofa and pulled it around you. His own shirt stayed open, half hanging from one shoulder. He didn’t even look down. You sat upright, clutching the throw closed. “What the hell are you doing?” Your sister’s face rearranged itself. “I knocked.”
“No, you didn’t.” “I did. You obviously couldn’t hear me.” “You used a key.”
She was still holding it. Minho found your top on the floor and passed it beneath the throw. You pushed your arms into it, but the fabric caught awkwardly behind you. “Wait,” he said quietly. He freed it, pulled the back down properly and straightened the strap twisted near your shoulder. Your sister watched his hands. “I thought Seungmin was your boyfriend.” You stood, keeping the throw around your shoulders. “Where did you get the key?” The question wrong-footed her for a second. “Mom had it.”
“Mom keeps my spare. She didn’t give it to you.” “She asked me to bring your mail over.” “So you took it.”
“I borrowed it. Don’t make it sound like I broke in.” “You let yourself into my apartment.” “I knocked first.”
“No, you didn’t.” Your sister shifted the folder tucked beneath her arm. “You weren’t answering. I wasn’t going to stand in the hallway forever when I had a key.” “You didn’t have a key. Mom had a key.”
“Oh my God, you know what I mean.” “No, actually, I don’t.” Minho stepped beside you. He wasn’t in front of you, wasn’t trying to take the conversation from you. He just stood close, his anger obvious in the tightness around his mouth. “You don’t use someone’s spare because they don’t answer,” he said.
Your sister looked at him briefly. “This is between me and her.” “You walked in while we were half dressed.” “I said I’m sorry.”
“You’re not sorry,” you said. “You said you knew it.” She blinked. “I was shocked.” “No. You looked happy.” “That’s ridiculous.”
“I saw it,” Minho said. Your sister’s eyes moved to him. “Of course you’d say that.” Minho didn’t bother answering. You held your hand out. “Give me the key.” Her fingers closed around it. “It belongs to Mom.” “It opens my front door.”
“Are you seriously going to pretend that’s the important thing here?” “Yes.” She stared at you. Then the satisfaction came back. “What about Seungmin?”
“What about him?” “He deserves to know what you’re doing.” Your stomach turned, not because of what she thought she’d discovered, but because she sounded so pleased to be saying it. “What Seungmin knows about my life is none of your business.”
“You’re cheating on him.” Minho’s jaw tightened. You kept your hand out. “Give me the damn key.” “You’re not even going to deny it?”
“I’m not discussing my relationship with you.” “That’s convenient.” “No, convenient is stealing my spare and then standing in my living room acting like you’re doing somebody a favour.”
“I didn’t steal anything.” “You took it without asking me.” “I was bringing you something for Mom.”
“Then you could’ve left it outside.” Your sister laughed once, short and irritated. “You always do this. Someone says something you don’t like and suddenly the whole conversation becomes about what they did wrong.” You looked at the key. “This conversation is about what you did wrong.”
“I knocked.” “Stop saying that.” “I did.”
“You didn’t.” Minho shifted slightly beside you. His hand hovered near your back but didn’t touch. “She’s asked for the key,” he said. “Give it back.” Your sister looked at him and then, finally, seemed to register that his shirt was still hanging open. “You haven’t even bothered fixing your own clothes.”
Minho followed her gaze as though he’d forgotten. “I was more concerned about her.” Your sister’s mouth tightened. “Exactly.” You frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“She doesn’t even have to ask.” Your sister gestured between you and Minho, irritation making her less careful now. “You’re fixing her clothes, telling me what to do in my own sister’s apartment—” “It isn’t your apartment,” Minho said. “And he helped because you walked in while I was undressed,” you added. “Why is that somehow a problem?” “I didn’t say it was.”
“You’re clearly bothered by it.” “All of you just… do whatever she wants.” There was the smallest pause. Minho gave a quiet, humourless laugh. “You used a key you weren’t supposed to have and somehow she’s the controlling one.”
“I didn’t say controlling.” “You didn’t have to.” Your sister looked at you again. “You have Seungmin wrapped around your finger. I’m not going to stand there and watch him get made an idiot of.”
That landed differently. You stared at her. “You want him embarrassed.” Her expression changed. “What?” “You do. That’s why you looked so fucking happy when you came in. You’ve been waiting for something you can run and tell him.”
“No. You’ve decided what he thinks without ever asking him.” Her mouth tightened. “I know he deserves better than this.” Minho went very still beside you. You held your hand out again. “Key.” Your sister didn’t move. “Now.”
For another second, she looked as though she might keep arguing. Then she slapped it into your palm. “Mom will want it back.” “Mom can ask me.” “You’re really going to change the locks because I came in once?”
“Yes.” “That’s insane.” “Then it won’t affect you.”
Your sister pulled her coat closed and gathered the folder against herself. The fake sweetness returned, though not as smoothly as before. “I genuinely didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” “You meant to come inside without permission.” “I knocked.”
“For fuck’s sake.” You crossed to the door and opened it. “Leave.” She stood there for another moment. Then her eyes flicked towards Minho again. That pleased look returned. “I’m going to tell Seungmin exactly what I saw.”
“Go ahead.” “You think he won’t care?” “I think you should make sure you tell him how you got in.”
Her face hardened. “I hope you’re this calm when he finds out.” You shut the door. The lock clicked. You put the chain across as well, harder than you meant to. For a few seconds, you stood there with the key pressed into your palm. The apartment felt strangely quiet. Minho stayed near the sofa. He didn’t come up behind you or put his hands on you without asking. He waited until you turned around. Your top was twisted slightly, one strap still sitting wrong. Minho lifted one hand. “Can I fix that?” You looked down and nodded. He came closer, freed the fabric at your back and pulled it down properly. His fingers straightened the strap at your shoulder, quick and careful. Then he stepped away. You looked at his chest. “Your shirt.”
Minho glanced down as if he’d only just remembered. “Right.” He pulled it back onto both shoulders and fastened a couple of buttons without much attention. “She looked happy.” “I know.”
“She didn’t even try to hide it at first.” Minho’s jaw shifted. You started pacing before you really meant to, the key still in your hand. “And now she’s going to message Seungmin with some dramatic shit about how sorry she is to be the one telling him. She’ll leave out the key. She’ll say she knocked. She’ll say I got aggressive when she tried to talk to me.” “She probably will.”
“She always does that.” You turned near the kitchen. “She does something completely out of line, then if I get angry, suddenly that’s the part everyone’s meant to focus on.” Minho let you talk. You stopped and looked at the door again. “I want the lock changed.” “Okay.”
“I know she gave the key back. She probably hasn’t copied it. I don’t think she’s going to start creeping in here every night or anything. She’s my sister, not some random psycho.” You rubbed your thumb over the edge of the key. “I just don’t want to hear something at the door and wonder if she can still get in.” “That’s enough reason.” “It feels dramatic.”
“She used it.” You looked at him. Minho picked up his phone. “Want me to find someone?” “Yeah. Please.”
He sat beside you while he searched, showed you the company before calling and explained the situation simply: a family member had used a spare key without permission, you had the key back, and you wanted the cylinder changed. There was a same-evening callout. The price made you pull a face. Minho covered the bottom of the phone. “They can come in about ninety minutes. Tomorrow between eight and ten is less than half.” You looked at the chain. “Tomorrow. We have the key.” “And I’m staying.”
He booked the morning appointment. Your phone was on the table. Four messages waited from your sister. You didn’t open them. “I should call Seungmin before she does.” Minho sat beside you. “Yeah.” You called. Seungmin answered quickly. “Hi. Did you eat? I was going to—” “Minnie.”
He stopped. You heard a rustle at his end, as though he’d sat up properly. “What happened?” “My sister came over.” “Again?”
“She let herself in.” There was a pause. “What do you mean, she let herself in?” “She took Mom’s spare key. Minho and I were on the sofa, and the door just opened.”
“She—what the hell?” His voice came closer to the phone. “Is she still there?” “No. I got the key back and made her leave. The chain’s on, and someone’s changing the lock tomorrow.” “Okay.” Seungmin breathed out, but the tension stayed in his voice. “Are you all right?”
“I’m pissed off.” “Yeah. Obviously.” He was quiet for a second. “Did she scare you?” “No. Not like that. She’s still my sister.” You looked towards the locked door. “It just feels gross knowing she thought she could walk in because I hadn’t answered her.”
“I know.” His answer came more softly. “That would piss me off too. The key’s definitely back?” “It’s here.” “And Minho’s staying?”
“Yeah.” “Good.” He didn’t add anything about you needing somebody there. You both knew that wasn’t what he meant. You told him what happened in pieces: the excuse about bringing your mail, the way she’d kept insisting she knocked, and the pleased look she hadn’t managed to hide when she saw you and Minho together. “She said she knew it,” you told him.
“Knew what?” “That I was cheating on you.” Seungmin went quiet. “With Minho?”
“Apparently.” “The Minho you told me you were picking up for your date?” “She doesn’t know that.”
“I know, I just…” A short laugh escaped him, more disbelief than amusement. “She really thinks she’s caught you sneaking around with Minho.” “It would be funny if she hadn’t looked so happy.” The laugh disappeared. “She was that pleased?”
“Yeah.” You heard him shift again. When he spoke, his voice was lower. “That’s fucked up.” You heard a vibration against your cheek with another message. Almost immediately, Seungmin said, “She’s texting me.” “What did she say?”
He read silently for a few seconds. “She says she’s sorry to be the one telling me, but she found you with Minho and thinks there are things I deserve to know.” Another pause. “Nothing about the key.” “Of course not.” “She says you became aggressive when she tried to talk to you.” His voice sharpened. “And now she wants to know whether I’m alone.”
“She wants to tell you properly.” “Yeah, apparently I need to be sitting down for the devastating news that you kissed Minho.” You laughed despite yourself, though it didn’t last long. Seungmin exhaled. “I started replying.”
“What did you write?” “I haven’t sent it.” “That wasn’t what I asked.”
He hesitated. “It starts with ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’” “Seungminniee” “It gets worse.”
“Maybe save it for tomorrow.” “Probably.” You could hear him tapping his fingers against something. “She keeps talking to me like I’m stupid. Like she knows more about my own relationship than I do.” “I know.”
“And she used me to threaten you.” “That was the first thing she said after she walked in.” For a moment, neither of you spoke. Minho moved quietly in the kitchen behind you, cupboard doors opening and closing without any attempt to listen in. Seungmin asked, “Do you want me to come over?”
“No. Minho’s staying.” “Okay. I wasn’t trying to make it into a whole thing. I just wanted to ask.” “I know, Minnie.”
He was quiet again, then said, “I hate that she looked happy.” That was the part underneath all his anger. You could hear it now. “I know.” “She didn’t care whether it would hurt me. She wanted it to.”
“Yeah.” “And she wanted you frightened of me finding out.” Seungmin let out a slow breath. “I’m not replying tonight. I’ll tell her tomorrow not to contact me about you again, when I can say it without calling her every name I know.” “That might take a while.”
You smiled, resting your head against the back of the sofa. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked. “A bit.” “Good. Don’t read whatever else she sends. She’ll only rewrite the whole night until she’s the victim.”
“I wasn’t planning to.” “And text me when the locksmith’s been.” “I will.”
Another pause settled between you, easier this time. “I love you,” Seungmin said. “I love you too.” “And tell Minho I love him as well.”
You looked towards the kitchen. Minho was putting the cake onto a plate, his shirt still only half buttoned. “I will.” “Okay. Call me if you need me.” “I know.”
You stayed on the line for another few seconds before hanging up. Minho looked over when you lowered the phone, but he didn’t ask what had been said. “Seungminnie says he loves you.” His expression softened. “I love him too.” Then he held out the plate of cake. You looked at it. “I thought that was for tomorrow.” “It was.”
You took the fork he held out. You ate the cake straight from the container, shoulders touching. It was a little too sweet. You ate more than Minho anyway. After a while, he lifted his hand towards your face and stopped before touching you. “Can I?” You nodded. Minho tucked your hair behind your ear and left his palm against the side of your neck. You leaned into it. Neither of you tried to restart what had been interrupted. When you were finished, Minho put the empty container on the coffee table and held one arm out without saying anything. You moved under it and settled against his side. ౨ৎ Minho had his eyes closed in three of the four pictures. Jisung took this as a personal insult. “You did that on purpose,” he said, holding the strip beneath the weak light outside the booth. His mask had slipped below his chin, and he was still pink from laughing through the last picture. “There’s no way you blinked three times.” Minho took the strip from him and looked at it. “The flash was bright.”
“It was the same flash every time.” “Exactly.” “That doesn’t explain anything.”
You leaned between them to see. Jisung looked delighted in the first photograph, even though only half his face had made it into frame. You were sitting partly across Minho’s lap because the booth had clearly been designed for two people with a much less complicated dating life. Minho looked asleep. In the second, Jisung had managed to fit properly and Minho’s eyes were still closed. The third was the only decent one. Minho’s arm was around your waist, Jisung’s cheek pressed against yours, and all three of you were looking at the camera. The last had been ruined by you. Jisung had kissed your cheek just as the countdown started. You’d clutched Minho’s sleeve, leaned closer to them both and whispered, with considerably more drama than the situation required, “What if Seungmin catches us?” Jisung had broken first. The picture had caught him folding forward against your shoulder, your mouth open because you were trying not to laugh and Minho looking directly into the camera with the beginning of a smile he hadn’t managed to hide. “That one’s the best,” you said. “I look stupid.”
“You always say that when you’re laughing.” “I don’t.” Minho held the strip just out of Jisung’s reach when he tried to take it back. “You do.”
Jisung looked between you. “Why are you both against me?” You looped your arm through his. “We’re not. We’re having an affair.” That made him laugh again, though he tried to bury it by pressing his mouth against the top of your head. It had been eleven days since your sister had used your mother’s spare key to let herself into your apartment. Eleven days had been long enough for the immediate fury to wear down into something flatter and less consuming. You were still angry when you thought about the door opening, and you still checked the new lock sometimes after you’d already turned it. Mostly, though, you had stopped giving your sister the amount of thought she clearly believed she deserved. She had spent those eleven days trying to reach Seungmin. He had spent them avoiding her with increasingly little subtlety. The first few messages had gone unanswered. When she started calling, he blocked her number. Then she turned up at JYP claiming she needed to speak to him about a private family emergency. Reception had called upstairs. Seungmin had told them there was no emergency and that he did not want to see her. She had returned two days later. The second time, security had already been given her name and labled her a sasaeng.
Jisung had told you over dinner that Seungmin stayed in one of the smaller recording rooms until somebody confirmed she had left the building. Seungmin had described this to you later as having some work to finish, but Jisung said the work had mostly involved refreshing the lobby camera and asking Chan whether a baseball cap would make him less recognisable if he used the side exit. You had laughed hard enough that Seungmin hung up on you. He called back thirty seconds later because he still wanted to know what you were doing that evening. Tonight, he was at your apartment while you were out with Minho and Jisung. He’d had a late schedule near your neighbourhood and gone there afterwards, letting himself in with the new key you’d given him two days after the lock was changed. The photo booth had been Jisung’s idea. The restaurant afterwards had been Minho’s, mostly because he knew somewhere nearby with private rooms and food until late. By the time you sat down, Jisung had already put the photograph into the clear back of his phone case. “You said you looked stupid,” you pointed out. “I do.”
“So why are you keeping it?” He placed his phone facedown on the table. “I paid for it.” Minho, who had paid the other half before either of you realised what he was doing, opened the menu and ignored both of you. The room was small enough that your knees kept touching beneath the table. Jisung sat beside you, one leg pressed along yours, while Minho sat opposite. He had taken his cap off but left his hair flattened around the edges, and when you reached across to fix one side, he caught your wrist and kissed your palm before letting you go. The date had nothing to do with your sister for most of the evening.
Jisung talked about a song he’d been working on and the part he kept changing even though nobody else thought there was anything wrong with it. You asked whether he actually disliked it or whether he had listened to it so many times that he could no longer tell. “That’s the problem,” he said, dragging one of the side dishes closer. “I liked it yesterday. This morning it sounded obvious.” “What does obvious sound like?” He paused with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “Like I knew what was coming.”
“You wrote it.” “I know, but I don’t want it to feel like that.” You understood what he meant without understanding anything technical about what he might change. “Maybe stop listening to it tonight.”
“I wasn’t planning to work.” Minho looked up from his bowl. Jisung noticed. “I wasn’t.” “You brought your laptop.”
“It’s in the car.” “You brought it on the date.” Jisung looked at you for support. You took a piece of food from his plate. “I think you should leave it in the car.” His hand came down over yours before you could get away. “That was mine.”
“You weren’t eating it.” “I was talking.” “You can’t reserve food by looking at it.”
Minho reached over and took the other half while Jisung was still holding your wrist. Jisung stared at the empty plate. Neither of you admitted anything. Conversation moved on. Minho showed you a video his mother had sent of one of the cats refusing to step around a paper bag. Jisung tried to argue that the cat was displaying excellent instincts. You told them about an elderly man in the convenience store earlier who had spent several minutes asking an employee whether a particular packet of sweets was too spicy, then bought three when she said no. “Maybe they were for someone else,” Minho said. “He opened one before he left.” “So?”
“He ate six while standing beside the till.” Jisung nodded as though this confirmed something. “He needed to be sure.” “For who?”
“The other two packets.” You looked at him. He smiled and leaned his shoulder into yours. Seungmin messaged halfway through the meal. Are you bringing food back or am I allowed to eat the ice cream? You picked up your phone and showed Jisung. “He can’t eat that,” Jisung said immediately. “I wanted some.” “You’re here.”
“I’ll want it later.” Minho took a drink, watching the argument without involving himself. You replied: Touch it and I’m changing the locks again. Seungmin’s answer came almost immediately. You gave me a key. Not immunity. The typing bubble appeared, disappeared, then came back. Bring chips. You smiled and put the phone down. Your own phone buzzed again. You expected Seungmin. It was your sister. For a second, you considered leaving it unopened. She had sent several messages since the key incident, most of them variations on I was trying to help and you’ve completely overreacted. You hadn’t answered any of them. The preview showed Seungmin’s name. You opened it. I know he’s at your apartment. I’m telling him tonight. He deserves to know what you’ve been doing. You stared at the screen. Another message arrived before you could decide whether you were irritated or simply tired. Once I tell him, he’s going to be so angry with you he’ll come straight to me. I probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Your mouth fell open. Jisung noticed first. “What?”
You read it again, half expecting the words to rearrange themselves into something less deranged. They didn’t. “What the fuck?” Minho’s attention moved from Jisung’s hands to your face. “What happened?” You turned the phone towards them. Jisung leaned close enough that his hair brushed your cheek. His eyes moved over the first message, then the second. He went very still. Minho reached across and took the phone when Jisung failed to move. For several seconds, none of you spoke. The nerve of it hit first. Your sister was outside your home again, talking about your boyfriend as though he were something she could collect once she’d successfully disposed of you. Then the rest of the message caught up. You laughed. It came out once, sharp and completely involuntary.
Jisung looked at you, then back at the phone. “She thinks Seungmin’s going to fuck her?” “Apparently.” He read the message one more time. His brows drew together, not with amusement so much as genuine confusion. “He literally asked you to fuck him after me last week.”
You put a hand over your mouth. That made it worse. Jisung was not trying to be funny. He was simply supplying information your sister had failed to account for. Minho returned your phone to the table. “Is she outside the apartment now?” The laughter thinned. You looked at the first message again. “It sounds like it.” “She shouldn’t be there.” “No.”
Jisung’s hand settled on your thigh. “Seungmin won’t let her in.” “I know.” That wasn’t what bothered you. You could picture her in the corridor, speaking softly through the door while Seungmin stood on the other side trying to get her to leave. She had already turned up at his workplace twice. She had already taken a key. Being ignored had not embarrassed her into stopping. It had made her more determined. Minho was reaching for his jacket before you said anything. “I’ll drive you.”
You nodded. There was no argument about finishing dinner or waiting to see whether she went away. Jisung gathered your things while Minho dealt with the bill. You sent Seungmin a quick message as you followed them out. Are you okay? His name appeared on your screen before you reached the lift. He was calling. You answered with the phone against your ear. “Hi.” “She won’t leave.” Seungmin sounded more annoyed than frightened. There was a strange hollowness behind his voice, and it took you a moment to realise he was standing in the hallway on his side of the door. “Have you spoken to her?”
“Through the door. I told her you aren’t here and she needs to go.” You stepped into the lift with Minho and Jisung. “What did she say?” “That she knows you’re not there. Apparently that’s why she came.” His voice dropped slightly. “Now she keeps asking me to open the door so she can tell me something before you get back.”
“She messaged me.” “I guessed.” The lift doors closed. Minho pressed the button for the car park while Jisung stood close at your other side, his hand brushing yours. “She says you’ve been stopping me from talking to her,” Seungmin continued. “I told her I blocked her myself. She said you probably made me.” You shut your eyes briefly. “Of course she did.”
“I asked how you could make me block her when you didn’t know she’d messaged the first time.” “What did she say?” “Nothing. Then she started again about needing to tell me the truth.”
The lift reached the car park. Minho took the keys from his pocket and walked quickly without making the situation feel like an emergency. “We’re coming back now,” you said. “Maybe fifteen minutes.” “Okay.” “She sent me what she wants to tell you.”
There was a pause. “The Minho thing?” “Yeah, but there was another message after that.” “What did she say?”
You glanced at Jisung. He was already biting the inside of his cheek. You read the message aloud. By the time you reached the end, Seungmin had gone completely silent. Minho unlocked the car. You got into the passenger seat while Jisung climbed into the back. “Minnie?” “I’m here.” “You went quiet.”
“I don’t understand why she thinks that would happen.” You pressed your lips together. Seungmin continued before you could answer. “Even if I thought you’d cheated on me, why would I immediately sleep with your sister?” “I don’t know.”
“And why does she think I’d be that angry?” You looked through the windscreen as Minho started the engine. There was another knock faintly audible through his phone. The amusement dropped away. Your sister’s voice followed, blurred by the door but recognisable. “Seungmin? I know she’s probably told you not to answer me, but you need to hear this from someone who actually cares about you.” Seungmin exhaled through his nose. “She’s doing that every couple of minutes.”
“Don’t open it.” “I’m not going to.” Minho pulled out of the car park. “Are the neighbours out there?”
“Not yet.” “We’ll be there soon.” “Okay.” His voice softened slightly. “Drive carefully.”
“I’m not driving.” “I know. Tell Minho.” “I’m sure he heard.”
Minho’s hand came briefly from the wheel to squeeze your knee before returning. “I’ll stay on the phone,” you said. “You don’t have to.” “I know.”
He didn’t argue again. The rest of the journey passed with the phone against your ear. You and Seungmin spoke only occasionally. He told you when your sister knocked again. You told him when you were five minutes away. Jisung leaned forward once to pass you the bottle of water from the side pocket, then sat back without trying to join the conversation. When Minho pulled up outside your building, Seungmin said he could hear a car pulling up. “That might be us.” “Okay.” “I’m hanging up now.”
“Call back if it isn’t.” You smiled despite yourself. “I will.” Minho parked near the entrance. Jisung was already undoing his seat belt. “You don’t need to come up,” you told him. He stopped. “We can wait outside.”
“That’ll make it worse.” “I know.” He rubbed his thumb against the edge of the belt. “I just don’t like her being there.” “Neither do I.”
Minho switched off the engine and turned towards you. “Text when she leaves.” “I will.” “And if you want us back, call.”
You nodded. Jisung reached between the seats and caught the back of your neck, pulling you close enough to kiss your temple. “Don’t let her say anything stupid about you.” “That might be difficult.” “You know what I mean.”
You did. You reached back and squeezed his wrist, then leaned across the centre console to kiss Minho. His hand came briefly to your jaw. Minho waited until you were inside the lobby before starting the car again. The lift took too long. By the time the doors opened on your floor, you could hear your sister speaking. Her voice was low and patient, carrying just far enough along the corridor. “I’m not blaming you for any of this, Seungmin. I know what she’s like. I just think you should let me explain before she gets back and makes everything sound different.” You walked around the corner. She stood outside your apartment with her coat still on and her phone in one hand. Her expression changed when she saw you—not guilt, exactly. More like irritation at having been interrupted before she got what she wanted. Then the sweetness returned. “Thank God. He won’t open the door.” “I know.”
“I’ve been trying to tell him I’m not here to cause trouble.” “You’ve been told to leave.” “I only need five minutes.”
The door stayed closed behind her. Your sister glanced towards it, then lowered her voice as though the two of you were suddenly sharing something private. “I think he’s scared of how you’ll react if he speaks to me.” You stared at her. She genuinely seemed to believe it. The lift moved somewhere behind you. A door opened further along the corridor, and you heard somebody’s television before it closed again. You did not want the next part happening out here. You stepped past your sister and unlocked the door. Her face brightened with quiet triumph. “Inside,” you said. “You’re saying whatever you came to say, and then you’re leaving.” She followed before you could change your mind. Seungmin was standing near the end of the hallway. He had changed after work into grey sweatpants and a dark sweatshirt. His hair was soft around his forehead, and the television was paused behind him. He looked tired, irritated and entirely unlike the furious, sexually aggressive man your sister had constructed in her head. His eyes went to you first. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” You closed the door and turned the lock, then stayed beside it. Your sister looked between you. “Could I speak to him alone?” “No.”
“I wasn’t asking you.” Seungmin’s expression barely changed. “I already told you no.” She turned towards him fully. “You don’t know what she’s done.” “Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t.” She took a small step closer, not enough to invade his space but enough to make her intention obvious. “I saw her with Minho. They were half dressed. She’s been lying to you.” Seungmin glanced at you. Not for an explanation. It was closer to disbelief that this was the revelation she had spent nearly two weeks trying to deliver. “I know she was with Minho.” Your sister’s face changed. “She told you.”
“I knew before she went to get him.” “No.” She gave a short laugh, as though he had misunderstood his own sentence. “I mean I saw them together. It wasn’t friendly.” “I know.”
Her eyes moved to you, then back to him. “And you’re just okay with that?” Seungmin’s mouth tightened. “It isn’t your business.” “I’m trying to stop you being humiliated.” “I’m not humiliated.”
“You don’t have to pretend because she’s here.” “I’m not pretending.” Your sister looked at you again. “Can you give us one minute?”
“No.” “She’s not keeping me here,” Seungmin said before your sister could turn that into something else. “I don’t want to talk to you alone.” “You’ve never even given me the chance.”
“I’ve had your messages.” “She must have said something to you.” “She didn’t know you’d contacted me the first time.”
Your sister’s fingers tightened around her phone. Seungmin continued, still calm. “I blocked you. I told reception not to let you upstairs. Nobody made me do that.” The flat went quiet for a moment. Your sister’s expression hardened before she managed to soften it again. “You don’t know what she’s like when you aren’t around.” A laugh nearly escaped you, but there was nothing funny in her face now. “She was on a date tonight,” your sister said. “With him again, I assume.” Seungmin answered without hesitation. “With Minho and Jisung,” Seungmin replied. She stared at him. You hadn’t expected him to say it quite so plainly. He didn’t elaborate. Your sister looked at you as though the answer had confirmed something worse than she had prepared herself for. “Jisung too?” You folded your arms. “You came here to tell Seungmin I was with Minho. He knows. You’ve told him. You can go now.”
“No. What does that mean?” “It means what happens in our relationship isn’t your business.” “Relationship?” Her gaze moved between you and Seungmin again. “What, all of you?”
Neither of you answered. She understood enough from the silence. “Oh my God.” Seungmin shifted closer to you, not protectively and not as a performance. He simply seemed done with standing across the room from you while your sister examined both of you. She noticed. “So you just let her do this?” His face changed then. “I don’t let her do anything.”
“You know what I mean.” “No, I don’t.” “She’s sleeping with other men.”
“She isn’t lying to me.” “That doesn’t make it normal.” “We didn’t ask what you thought.”
Your sister’s voice sharpened. “You’re really standing there pretending you’re fine with being passed around between all of them?” The sentence was directed at you, but she kept glancing at Seungmin as though waiting for him to flinch. The word landed harder than you expected. Not because it described anything real. It didn’t. There was no version of your relationship in which you were an object being handed from one person to another. Still, she had chosen it carefully. She wanted you to feel cheap. For one ugly second, you did. Seungmin moved before you spoke. “Don’t talk to her like that.” Your sister’s brows lifted. “I’m saying what everyone else would think.”
“You don’t know what anyone else thinks.” “I know what it looks like.” “You know what you wanted it to look like,” you said.
She turned to you. “You were happy when you walked in on me and Minho. You didn’t look worried about Seungmin. You looked pleased.” “I was shocked.” “You said you knew it.”
“Because I did.” “No. You thought you’d finally found something you could use.” Her face flushed. “I was trying to protect him.”
“You told me he’d come straight to you.” The room went still. Your sister’s eyes flicked towards Seungmin. You took out your phone, though you didn’t need to show her the message. She knew exactly what she had written. “You said he’d be so angry with me that he’d sleep with you tonight.” “I was upset.”
“About what?” She looked at Seungmin again. “About seeing someone treated like this.” Seungmin’s expression had gone flat. “You don’t know me at all,” he said.
“I know you deserve someone who respects you.” “You keep saying that like you’re talking about me. You aren’t.” “I came all this way because nobody else was going to tell you.”
“I already knew.” “And you’re fine with it because she’s convinced you this is what you want.” Seungmin stared at her for a moment. Then he shook his head. “You thought I’d be angry with her and come to you.” His voice stayed even, which somehow made your sister look more unsettled. “I wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know how you’d feel if you understood everything.” “I understand enough.” “She’s standing right there.”
“I told you to leave before she got here.” Your sister’s mouth closed. It was the first thing that seemed to reach her. For nearly two weeks, she had apparently imagined you intercepting messages, controlling Seungmin’s decisions and keeping him away from her. The possibility that he had heard everything she wanted to say and still rejected her had never been allowed into the fantasy. She recovered badly. “You’re letting her make a fool of you.” “I’m not.”
“You have no pride.” “That isn’t concern.” “I’m trying to help you.”
“No,” Seungmin said. “You’re trying to make me want something I don’t want.” Your sister’s eyes sharpened. “And what do you want? To be one of however many men she has wrapped around her finger?” The hurt from before was still there, but now it was joined by something steadier. “Stop talking about them.” She ignored you. “Minho was fixing your clothes while he couldn’t even be bothered to button his own shirt. Jisung was practically hanging off you the last time I saw him. He looked like he needed you to tell him what to do next.”
“Enough.” You unfolded your arms. “You don’t get to talk about them.” “I’m saying what everyone can see.”
“No. You’re saying what bothers you.” You stepped away from the door, closing some of the distance between you. “Jisung being soft bothers you. Seungmin not wanting to control me bothers you. Anything that doesn’t fit whatever miserable idea you have of how men are supposed to act makes you angry.” “That isn’t what I said.” “It’s exactly what you said.”
“You like them like that because it means you can do whatever you want.” “No.” “All of them running around after you, buying you things, fixing your clothes, doing whatever you say—”
“You stole a key to my home.” Her mouth snapped shut. “You took pictures of me without permission. You messaged my boyfriend behind my back. You turned up at his workplace more than once after he ignored you, and now you’ve come here because you thought you could make him leave me.” “I came because you were lying to him.”
“I wasn’t.” “You expect me to believe all of them are fine with this?” “I don’t care what you believe.”
“You think they all actually want you?” There it was. It came out before she could smooth it over. You watched her realise. The question hurt more than the other insults because it was closer to the centre of what she meant. Not disgust at the relationship. Disbelief that you could be loved inside it. You let the silence sit. Then you said, “That’s what you can’t stand.” Her face tightened. “Don’t flatter yourself.” “You don’t care that I’m with them. You care that they’re with me.”
The sentence came out more quietly than you expected. Your sister laughed, but there was no sweetness left in it. “Why would I be jealous of being passed between eight men?” Seungmin’s hand found yours. You held on. “You thought he’d choose you,” you said. “You said it yourself.” “I never said that.” “You said he’d come straight to you.”
“I meant he’d need someone.” “You meant you.” She looked at Seungmin. He did not look away. “I would never treat you the way she does,” your sister said.
Seungmin’s fingers tightened around yours. “You keep talking like this ends with me choosing you.” Her expression flickered. He continued before she could deny it. “It doesn’t.” “You only think that because you don’t understand what she’s doing.”
“Even if I had been angry with her, I still wouldn’t have gone to you.” The words were simple. They did not need anything added to them. Your sister’s face went blank for a second. Then the cruelty returned, stripped of almost everything polite. “Fine. Stay here and let her make you pathetic. Maybe that’s what you like.” Seungmin’s jaw tightened. You moved towards the door. “That’s enough.”
Your sister looked at you. “You’re throwing me out because I told the truth?” “I’m making you leave because you came here to hurt people.” “You can’t keep protecting him from reality.”
“I’m not protecting him from you. He doesn’t want you.” “You don’t speak for him.” “I’ve told you myself,” Seungmin said.
She ignored him. That, more than anything, made the whole thing obvious. She had spent weeks claiming to care about what Seungmin wanted. Now that he was saying it plainly, she refused to hear him. You opened the door. “Go home.” She stayed where she was. “So that’s it?” “For tonight, yes.”
“You’re just going to pretend none of this is sick?” “I’m not discussing my relationship with you again.” “And you think you can tell me where I’m allowed to go?”
“I’m telling you not to come back to this apartment. Don’t go to his work . Stop messaging Seungmin. He doesn’t want to speak to you.” Her gaze flicked towards him one last time. Seungmin stood beside you, still holding your hand. Your sister pulled her coat closer around herself. “You’ll regret this when it all falls apart.” Neither of you answered. She walked past you into the corridor. You closed the door before she reached the lift. For a moment, your hand stayed on the lock. Then you turned it. The apartment was quiet again. Seungmin didn’t speak immediately. He stood a few feet away, watching you without crowding you. You looked towards the paused television. “What were you watching?”
His eyebrows lifted slightly, as though that wasn’t the question he had expected. “I don’t know anymore.” You let out a breath that turned into something close to a laugh. Seungmin came nearer. “Are you okay?” “Yeah.” You rubbed at the place between your brows. “Mostly. She’s such an asshole.”
“She is.” “The stuff about Jisung and the boys pissed me off more than anything else.” “I know.”
“She barely knows them.” “She barely knows me.” You looked at him. He was still annoyed. You could see it in the line of his mouth and the way his thumb kept moving over the side of your hand. But he wasn’t broken by what she had said. He wasn’t questioning himself or looking for reassurance that he was masculine enough. He was simply angry that she had been cruel to people he loved. Your phone buzzed. Minho. Is she gone? You replied that she was. Jisung’s message appeared before you had put the phone away. are you both okay Three dots appeared immediately. did she expose you You looked at Seungmin. He noticed. “What?”
“Jisung wants to know whether she exposed me.” Seungmin’s expression flattened. “He’s enjoying this too much.” “He was worried.”
“He can be worried without typing like that.” You smiled and sent Jisung a message. Minho replied next. Do you want us to come back? You considered it, then looked around the apartment. The television was still paused. A paper bag sat open on the coffee table beside a drink with melted ice. Seungmin’s shoes were by the door. His charger was already plugged in beside the sofa. You were okay. No. We’re fine. Drive home safely. Minho sent a heart. Jisung sent four. Seungmin sat down on the sofa, then reached for your phone when you held it out. “What?” “You haven’t seen the actual message.”
“I heard it.” “That’s different.” He took the phone reluctantly. You watched his eyes move over the first message. Then the second. His face went blank. For several seconds, he said nothing. You sat beside him. “Well?” Seungmin locked the phone and handed it back. “She really doesn’t know anything about me.”
That made you laugh again. He looked offended. “Why is that funny?” “It isn’t.” “You’re laughing.”
“I’m laughing at her.” “That’s not better.” You leaned into his shoulder. “Jisung said something worse.” Seungmin immediately looked suspicious. “What did he say?”
You told him. He closed his eyes. Then he picked up the nearest cushion, put it over his face and stayed like that while you laughed against his side. When he finally lowered it, his ears were pink. “He didn’t need to say that in front of everyone.” “Everyone lready knew.” “That isn’t the point.”
You rested your head against him. “He wasn’t wrong.” Seungmin gave you a long look, then reached for the paper bag on the table. The fries inside had gone cold. He ate one anyway. “You wanted us to bring chips,” you said. “These aren’t chips.” “They’re close.”
You took one from the bag. It was terrible. You ate the rest of it. Seungmin found the remote beneath the cushion and restarted the episode from the beginning. You tucked your feet beneath his thigh, and he rested one hand around your ankle while the opening credits play
Synopsis: When your sister tries to steal Seungmin, he makes one thing painfully clear: he only has eyes for you.
A/n: omgg this took so long to edit ive been putting this off for ages but i finally did it! I also couldn’t help but sprinkle in some poly skz x reader lmaooa
Wc: 20.1k
Part 2
The first warning came when your sister texted you three times that morning to ask exactly when you and Seungmin would be arriving. The second came when she opened the front door wearing a dress you distinctly remembered her describing as far too nice for family things.
You looked at her. She looked at you.
Neither of you said anything for a moment. Then Seungmin appeared behind you, one hand holding a neatly wrapped cake box and the other resting comfortably against the small of your back. “Hi,” he said brightly. Your sister’s entire expression changed.
“Seungmin.” She smiled as though she had been expecting him personally. “Finally.” You glanced over your shoulder at him. He glanced down at you. His eyebrows lifted slightly.
Finally? You bit the inside of your cheek. Your sister stepped aside to let you both in, although she somehow managed to position herself so Seungmin had to pass close to her. He murmured a polite thank you and guided you ahead of him with a gentle hand at your waist. You had been dating long enough that the gesture barely registered anymore. Seungmin was always touching you in small, absent-minded ways—his fingers brushing yours as you walked, his palm settling on your knee beneath tables, his hand finding the back of your coat when you crossed a road.
It was rarely dramatic. It was simply constant. Your sister noticed. Her gaze dropped to his hand before moving back to his face.
“You look different in person,” she told him. Seungmin paused while removing his shoes. “Do I?” “Better.”
You turned away before either of them could see your smile. Seungmin placed his shoes neatly beside yours, then leaned closer to whisper, “Am I supposed to say she does too?” “No.” “Good.”
You elbowed him lightly. He caught your arm and squeezed it against his side, looking pleased with himself. Your sister was still watching. “You brought something?” she asked, nodding towards the box in his hand.
“Cake,” Seungmin said. “Your mum said she liked the one from that bakery near our flat.” “That was thoughtful.” “She sent him a photograph of it with the address circled,” you said. Seungmin looked offended.
“She provided helpful guidance.” “She threatened to disown me if we arrived without it.” “Still thoughtful.” “You didn’t even pay for it.”
“I carried it.” “You made me carry it on the train.” “For part of the journey.” “You said your arm hurt.”
“It did.” “Because you spent the entire morning playing games.” Seungmin smiled at your sister. “She has no sympathy for my suffering.” “None,” you confirmed.
Your sister laughed a little too enthusiastically. Not because the conversation had been particularly funny, but because Seungmin was smiling while he said it. You noticed. You also noticed the way she tucked her hair behind her ear before asking, “Do you want me to take that for you?”
She reached for the cake. Seungmin shifted it away automatically. “No, it’s all right. I’ve been entrusted with it.” “He’ll cry if anything happens to it,” you said.
“I’ll tell your mum it was your fault.” “You see what I live with?” Seungmin bumped his shoulder against yours. “You love it.” You opened your mouth to disagree.
He looked down at you expectantly, the beginnings of a grin already pulling at his lips. You hated how well he knew you. “Whatever,” you said. “There it is.”
He bent and pressed a quick kiss to your temple before following the sound of your mother calling from the kitchen. Your sister remained by the door with you. She watched him leave. Then she looked at you.
“You never said he was that handsome.” You blinked. “You’ve seen photographs.” “Photographs are different.” “I suppose.”
“He’s taller than I thought.” You stared at her. She stared back, seemingly unaware that there was anything strange about the intensity of her assessment. “Do you need his measurements?” you asked. “I can check the label in his coat.”
She rolled her eyes. “I was only saying.” “Right.” “You don’t have to be weird about it.”
“I’m not being weird.” “You’re doing that face.” “What face?” “The face you do when you think you’re funny.”
“I am funny.” “Seungmin clearly thinks so.” There was something strange beneath the words. Something slightly too pointed. Before you could decide whether you had imagined it, she smiled and linked her arm through yours.
“Come on. Mum’s been panicking over lunch for an hour.” She pulled you towards the kitchen as though nothing had happened. You let her. At that point, it was easier.
౨ৎ
Your mum adored Seungmin. That was hardly news. She adored him because he arrived on time, complimented her cooking, remembered details from conversations they had months ago and always insisted on helping clear the table. Your dad liked him because Seungmin could discuss football with convincing enthusiasm and had once spent nearly forty minutes helping him fix a temperamental television.
Even your relatives who had only met Seungmin briefly tended to approve of him. He was polite without seeming rehearsed, funny without demanding attention and attentive in a way that made people feel remembered. Your sister had apparently taken all of these qualities as an invitation. At first, you didn’t think much of it.
She asked him about work. Normal. She asked about the other members. Also normal. She asked whether he enjoyed travelling, what food he liked and whether he preferred going out or staying at home. A little interview-like, perhaps, but not particularly suspicious.
Then she moved from the chair opposite him to the empty one beside him when your mother asked her to fetch another plate. You looked at the abandoned chair. Then at her. She smiled innocently and crossed one leg over the other.
Seungmin glanced towards you. You were sitting on his other side, close enough that your knees touched beneath the table. He nudged your foot. You nudged him back.
His mouth twitched. Your sister leaned towards him. “So,” she said, “what did you think when you first met her?” You nearly inhaled your drink.
Seungmin turned towards you slowly. “Oh, no,” you said. His eyes brightened. “Oh, yes.”
“Don’t.” “I thought she was very strange.” Your mother laughed from the other end of the table. You stared at him. “That isn’t what you said before.”
“You told me not to embarrass you in front of your family.” “And this is you behaving?” “This is me being generous.” Your sister laughed, resting her hand against Seungmin’s arm.
It was light. Brief enough that she could claim it meant nothing. Still, you saw it. Seungmin looked down at her fingers. Your sister removed them a moment later, smiling as though the contact had been accidental.
“What did you actually think?” she asked. Seungmin looked back at you. The teasing softened around the edges. “I thought she was pretty.”
The answer was simple enough to make warmth spread through your chest. Then his smile returned. “Until she spoke.” You kicked his shin beneath the table.
He flinched dramatically. “See?” he told your family. “Violence.” “You deserved that.” “I complimented you.”
“You immediately ruined it.” “I said you were pretty.” “You said I was strange.” “You are strange.”
Your sister tilted her head. “I suppose you must usually date girls who are quite different from her.” The sentence slipped into the conversation so smoothly that it took you a second to understand it. Seungmin frowned slightly. “Different how?”
Your sister shrugged. “You know. More… elegant.” Your father suddenly became very interested in cutting his food. Your mother looked up.
You glanced down at yourself. You were wearing a jumper and trousers. Nothing particularly inelegant, unless your sister was counting the tiny mark on your sleeve from where Seungmin had flicked sauce at you in the kitchen. Seungmin followed your gaze. Then he looked at your sister.
“No,” he said. “I like this one.” You pressed your lips together. “This one?” you repeated. He patted your knee beneath the table.
“My favourite.” “I’m so flattered.” “You should be.” Your sister laughed, but there was something strained about it.
“I only meant that you seem very put together.” “I’m not,” Seungmin said cheerfully. “She found me looking for my phone this morning while I was talking to someone on it.” He looked towards your mother. “You raised a very critical daughter.” Your mum smiled. “She gets it from me.”
“Good to know.” The conversation moved on, but your sister did not return to her original chair. Every few minutes, she found another reason to address Seungmin directly. Did he like the food?
Had he visited the restaurant she mentioned? Did he think her hair looked better dark or light? That one made you turn. She lifted a section of her hair between her fingers.
“I’ve been thinking of changing it,” she explained. “What do you think?” Seungmin blinked. “I don’t know.” “You must have a preference.”
“For your hair?” She laughed as though he had made a joke. “Generally.” He looked at you. You had stopped pretending not to listen.
A hint of mischief appeared in his expression. “I like hers.” You narrowed your eyes. “You said I’d look good bald.” “You would.”
“That doesn’t count.” “It shows versatility.” Your sister’s hand fell from her hair. “You’re lucky,” she told you.
The words sounded pleasant. The way she looked at Seungmin did not. You raised an eyebrow. “I know.” “I mean, you’ve never really cared about things like that.”
“Things like what?” “Your appearance.” Silence settled over the table. It wasn’t complete silence. Your father’s fork scraped faintly against his plate, and the clock in the hallway continued ticking.
But the conversation stopped. Your sister smiled as though she had offered you a compliment. “You’ve always been confident enough not to bother,” she added. You knew this routine.
It had existed long before Seungmin. Your sister would say something cruel with a pleasant expression, and if you reacted, she would insist you had misunderstood. That she admired your confidence. That she wished she could leave the house without making an effort. That you were lucky not to care what people thought. Normally, you could ignore it. Today, the comment felt particularly childish.
You opened your mouth, but Seungmin spoke first. “She spent forty minutes choosing that jumper.” You turned towards him in disbelief. Your sister laughed.
Seungmin continued, “Then she asked me which trousers looked better and ignored my answer.” You nudged his side with your elbow. He caught your hand before you could pull it away and linked your fingers beneath the table. The gesture was concealed from everyone else.
His thumb brushed once over your knuckles. You understood what he was doing. He hadn’t ignored your sister’s comment. He had simply refused to let it settle over you.
“She looks lovely,” your mother said firmly. “She does,” Seungmin agreed. Your sister’s smile tightened. “I never said she didn’t.”
“No one said you did,” you replied. Her gaze met yours. For a moment, something sharp passed between you. Then Seungmin squeezed your hand and leaned close enough that his shoulder pressed against yours.
“You have something on your face,” he whispered. You immediately touched your cheek. “Where?” “The other side.” You touched the other cheek.
“No, lower.” “Seungmin.” “A little lower.” You glared at him. “There’s nothing there, is there?”
He smiled. “You’re so easy.” You tried to pull your hand from his. He tightened his grip.
“Don’t be sulky.” “I hate you.” Your sister watched the exchange with an unreadable expression. You barely noticed.
౨ৎ
After lunch, your mother attempted to stop Seungmin from helping with the dishes. Seungmin ignored her. He rolled his sleeves to his elbows, collected the empty plates and followed you into the kitchen. Your sister followed him.
Naturally. “You don’t have to do that,” she told him, taking a plate from his hands. “It’s fine.” “You’re a guest.”
“So is she.” Seungmin nodded towards you. You were leaning against the counter eating a piece of cake. Your sister looked at you.
“She’s family.” “She isn’t helping.” “I’m supervising,” you said. “You’re eating the dessert we haven’t served yet.”
“I’m checking it for poison.” Seungmin set the plates beside the sink. “And?” You took another bite.
“Still collecting evidence.” He reached towards your plate. You moved it out of reach. “Get your own.”
“I bought it.” “I paid for it.” “With our money.” “We don’t have shared finances.”
Your sister laughed again. “You two are funny.” You glanced at her. The compliment sounded genuine enough, but her eyes remained fixed on Seungmin.
He turned on the tap. Your sister stepped beside him. “I’ll wash,” she offered. “I can do it.”
“You dry, then.” You watched her pick up a sponge. Your mother called your name from the living room, asking whether you could help her find something. You pushed yourself away from the counter.
“Don’t eat my cake,” you warned Seungmin. “I would never.” “You absolutely would.” He placed one hand over his heart.
“Your lack of trust is upsetting.” You pointed the fork at him. “I’ll know.” “Go away.” You reluctantly carried the plate with you.
As you left the kitchen, you glanced back. Your sister had moved slightly closer to Seungmin. He was focused on rinsing a plate. You nearly stayed.
Then you caught yourself. It was your sister. Seungmin was your boyfriend. Nothing was going to happen because the two of them spent ninety seconds alone beside a sink.
You found your mother’s glasses on top of her head, endured several minutes of her insisting she had already checked there and returned to the kitchen. Your sister was speaking. “…must get tiring.” Seungmin passed her another plate. “What does?”
“Dating someone so different from you.” You stopped just outside the doorway. Seungmin didn’t appear to notice you. He frowned. “You’ve said that a few times.”
“I don’t mean it badly.” “What do you mean?” Your sister dried the plate slowly. “You’re very disciplined. Ambitious. You take care of yourself.”
He waited. “And she isn’t?” “She’s just more relaxed.” Seungmin looked down at the soapy water.
You knew that expression. He was choosing his words. Your sister mistook his silence for agreement. “I’ve always been more like you,” she continued. “Even when we were younger. People used to say I was the more responsible one.”
“Did they?” “And the more confident one.” Seungmin made a small sound that could have meant anything. Your sister smiled.
“It’s funny, really. Most people usually notice me first.” He glanced at her. “Okay.” You pressed your lips together.
She appeared thrown by the response. “I don’t mean to sound arrogant.” “Then don’t.” The answer was delivered so lightly that for a second, you wondered whether you had heard him correctly.
Your sister laughed uncertainly. “I’m only being honest.” Seungmin rinsed another plate. “About people noticing you?”
“Yes.” “Congratulations.” You had to cover your mouth. Your sister’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“You must have noticed that we’re quite different.” “I’ve noticed.” “I’m probably more like your usual type.” Seungmin finally turned off the tap.
He looked at her properly. “What’s my usual type?” Your sister leaned one hip against the counter. “Confident. Sophisticated.”
“Are you asking me or telling me?” “I’m guessing.” “You’ve guessed wrong.” She smiled as though he were teasing her.
“Have I?” “Yes.” Something about his tone should have ended the conversation. It didn’t.
Your sister lowered her voice. “She’s always been the sweeter one, I suppose. Men tend to like that.” Seungmin stared at her. Then his gaze moved past her shoulder and found you standing in the doorway.
His expression changed immediately. The irritation disappeared behind a slow, knowing smile. “How long have you been there?” he asked. Your sister turned sharply.
You lifted your plate. “Long enough to know you’ve been having a very interesting discussion about your type.” Seungmin dried his hands. “Apparently, I have one.”
“Do you?” “I’m learning a lot today.” Your sister straightened. “We were only talking.” “I heard.”
“There’s no need to make it strange.” You stepped into the kitchen and placed your half-finished cake on the counter. “I didn’t.” “No, but you’re doing that thing where you act territorial.”
Seungmin’s eyebrows rose. You laughed. “Territorial?” “You don’t need to hover every time another woman speaks to your boyfriend.” “I was helping Mum.”
“And then you came straight back.” “Because this is where my cake is.” Seungmin immediately reached for your plate. You slapped his hand away.
“See?” He looked wounded. “You care more about that cake than you care about me.” “The cake has never stolen my crisps.”
“It would if it could.” Your sister sighed. “You’re both impossible.” “Thank you,” Seungmin said.
You picked up your fork again. Your sister gave you a long look before placing the tea towel on the counter. “I’m going to see if Mum needs anything.” “She doesn’t,” you said. “Her glasses were on her head.”
Your sister ignored you and left. You waited until her footsteps had faded down the hall. Then you turned towards Seungmin. He was already looking at you.
A smile pulled at your mouth. “Your usual type?” He groaned and leaned back against the sink. “Please don’t.”
“So much like her.” Seungmin reached for you. You dodged around the kitchen island, laughing when he followed. “I’m only being honest,” you said, mimicking your sister’s voice.
“You’re enjoying this far too much.” “Apparently she’s the woman of your dreams.” “My dreams have better conversational skills.” You gasped. “That was mean.”
“It was accurate.” He moved to one side of the island. You moved in the opposite direction. “I thought you liked confident women.”
“I like you.” “That wasn’t the question.” “It’s my answer.” “You’re only saying that because I caught you.”
“Caught me doing dishes?” “Seductively.” “I was wearing rubber gloves.” “Exactly. Very provocative.”
Seungmin stopped. You stopped too, watching him suspiciously from across the island. His expression softened. “Did that bother you?”
The question was quiet enough to dissolve some of your amusement. You considered it. “Not really.” “Not really?”
“I don’t think you’re secretly going to run away with my sister.” “That’s reassuring.” “I’d give you at least a week before you begged me to take you back.” “A week?”
“Maybe four days.” Seungmin looked offended. “I wouldn’t make it through the first evening.” You smiled. He continued to watch you.
“But?” he prompted. You looked down at your cake. “She does that sometimes.” “Does what?”
“Compares us.” You scraped your fork lightly through the icing. “She always has. She thinks she’s being subtle.” “She isn’t.” “I know.” “She also thinks I’m an idiot.”
You laughed. “Why?” “Because I’ve said I like you at least twelve times today, and she’s decided that means I’m interested in her.” “Maybe you’re sending mixed signals.” “I asked her to move because she was standing on my foot.”
“Very flirtatious.” “She apologised and touched my arm.” “Scandalous.” “She’s touched my arm six times.”
“You counted?” “I started counting when she asked whether I thought she looked better with dark hair.” You laughed again, and Seungmin smiled. Then he walked around the island.
This time, you let him reach you. His hands settled on your waist, drawing you between his knees as he leaned back against the counter. “For the record,” he said, “I don’t think you’re lucky.” “No?”
“No. I think I’m incredibly brave.” You flicked his shoulder. He caught your wrist and kissed your palm. “And lucky,” he added.
“That was nearly sweet.” “Don’t tell anyone.” You rolled your eyes, but your arms slipped around his shoulders. He tilted his head.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” “I’m fine.” “Your sister’s being strange.” “She thinks she can steal you.”
“Can she?” You pretended to consider it. Seungmin pinched your side. You squealed and tried to twist away, but he trapped you against him.
“Answer carefully,” he warned. “I don’t know. She is very sophisticated.” Another pinch. “And confident!”
He attacked your other side. You dissolved into helpless laughter, nearly dropping your fork as you attempted to escape. “Seungmin!” “Wrong answer.”
“She’s your type!” “Take it back.” “Never!” He caught both your wrists in one hand and used the other to tickle your waist.
You kicked uselessly at his legs. “You’re horrible!” “Take it back.” “Fine!” you gasped. “She isn’t your type.”
“And?” “And you don’t want her.” “And?” You stared at him, breathless.
His hair had fallen over his forehead during the struggle, and his smile was bright and boyish and entirely too pleased. “And you’re obsessed with me.” “There we go.” He released your wrists.
You immediately smacked his chest. Seungmin laughed and caught you against him again, pressing a noisy kiss to your cheek before you could complain. “You’re very annoying,” you told him. “You were laughing.”
“Against my will.” He kissed your other cheek. “Still counts.” Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
You both separated just before your mother entered the kitchen. She looked at Seungmin’s messy hair, your flushed face and the abandoned washing-up. Neither of you spoke. Your mother sighed.
“The dishes, Seungmin.” “I was doing them.” “He attacked me,” you said. “You provoked me.”
Your mother pointed at the sink. “Both of you.” “Yes, Mum,” you said. “Yes, Mum,” Seungmin echoed.
You turned to glare at him. He smiled innocently. Your mother left the room shaking her head. Seungmin bumped his hip against yours as he turned the tap back on.
“Pass me the sponge.” “You pass me the sponge.” “It’s closer to you.” “You’re closer to the sink.”
He looked towards the doorway, then lowered his voice. “Do you think your sister would do it for me?” You stared at him. He managed to hold a serious expression for approximately two seconds.
Then you shoved the sponge directly into his chest.
౨ৎ
When you finally prepared to leave, your mother packed enough food for several days into a bag and made Seungmin promise to visit again soon. Your sister stood in the hallway while you put on your coat. “You’re leaving already?” she asked. “We’ve been here for five hours,” you said.
“It doesn’t feel that long.” Seungmin bent to tie his shoelace. Your sister’s gaze lingered on him. “You should come over more often.”
“We will,” you replied. “I meant Seungmin.” He looked up. Your sister smiled. “You don’t need to wait for her. You’re practically part of the family now.”
There it was. Not quite enough to confront. More than enough to notice. Seungmin straightened.
“I think she’d be upset if I visited without her.” “I wouldn’t,” you said. “I’d enjoy the peace.” He placed one hand on top of your head and pushed down lightly. Your sister laughed.
“You’re very patient with her.” Seungmin looked at you. “No,” he said. “She’s patient with me.” For once, there was no joke attached.
His hand slid from the top of your head to the back of your neck, thumb brushing softly beneath your hair. Your sister’s smile faded for half a second. Then it returned. “Well,” she said, opening the door, “it was lovely seeing you.”
“You too,” Seungmin replied politely. She hugged you first. It was brief. Then she turned towards Seungmin.
You expected her to offer a wave. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him. Seungmin froze. His hands hovered uncertainly beside her shoulders.
Your eyes widened. Over your sister’s head, his gaze found yours. His expression was so openly alarmed that a laugh burst out of you. Your sister released him.
“What’s funny?” “Nothing.” Seungmin stepped immediately towards you. You were still laughing as he took the bag of food from your hand and placed his other arm securely around your shoulders.
Your sister glanced between you. “Text me when you’re home.” “I will.” She looked at Seungmin. “You have my number, don’t you?”
“No,” he said. “Oh.” She paused. “I thought you did.” “Why would he?” you asked. “In case of an emergency.”
Seungmin nodded. “I’ll call emergency services.” You choked on another laugh. Your sister’s mouth tightened. “I only meant if something happened with you.”
“He has Mum’s number.” “And her Dad’s,” Seungmin added. “And Chan’s,” you said. “And Minho’s.”
“He doesn’t need your number.” Your sister folded her arms. “You make everything sound strange.” “You asked my boyfriend whether he had your number.”
“For emergencies.” “Right.” Seungmin gently steered you through the doorway before either of you could continue. “Thank you for lunch,” he called politely.
Your mother called goodbye from somewhere inside the house. Your sister remained at the door while the two of you walked down the path. You could feel her watching. Seungmin’s arm stayed around you until you reached the pavement.
Then he leaned close. “Don’t look now.” You immediately looked back. Your sister was still standing in the doorway.
She lifted her hand when she saw you turn. You waved. Seungmin sighed. “I specifically said not to.”
“I don’t take instructions well.” “I know.” The door finally closed. You walked several more steps in silence.
Then Seungmin said, “Your sister wants me.” You stopped. He stopped beside you. The solemn expression on his face lasted less than a second before you both started laughing.
“Your confidence is disgusting,” you told him.
౨ৎ
Your sister arrived at your flat on Saturday afternoon wearing heeled boots, a fitted coat and enough perfume to announce her presence before you had even opened the door. You looked at her. Then at the small handbag hanging from her shoulder. Then back at her.
“You said you were coming to borrow my straighteners.” “I am.” “Are you planning to straighten your hair here?” “No.”
“Then why do you look like you’re going somewhere?” She frowned. “I’m meeting someone later.” “You didn’t mention that.” “I didn’t realise I needed to submit an itinerary.”
“You don’t.” “Then why are you interrogating me?” “I asked one question.” “You asked three.”
You stepped aside to let her enter. She walked past you, removing her coat as she went. The outfit beneath it was somehow even more carefully chosen. You watched her smooth the fabric over her waist before checking her reflection in the hallway mirror.
Interesting. Very interesting. “You could have texted,” you said, closing the door. “I would’ve brought the straighteners to Mum’s tomorrow.” “I was nearby.”
She wasn’t. Your sister lived nearly forty minutes in the opposite direction. You decided not to point that out. From the living room, Seungmin called, “Who is it?”
Your sister’s posture changed almost imperceptibly. Her shoulders pulled back. Her expression softened. You stared at her.
She ignored you. “Your favourite person,” you called. There was a pause. Then Seungmin replied, “Felix?”
You gasped. Your sister laughed. You marched into the living room, already preparing several punishments. Seungmin was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the coffee table.
A pale blue fabric headband held his hair away from his face, and there was a thin layer of clay mask drying across his cheeks because you had told him his skin looked tired. He had complained for eleven minutes. Then he had asked whether there was enough left for his forehead. Your left hand rested carefully on top of an old magazine while Seungmin held your right between both of his.
Three of your fingernails were painted. One was half-painted. The fifth had somehow acquired a streak of polish across your skin. Seungmin looked up as you entered.
The smile on his face widened. “There’s my second-favourite person.” You stopped in front of him. “Second?”
“Felix bakes for me.” “I cook for you.” “You once burned instant noodles.” “The packet was confusing.”
“You forgot the water.” “It didn’t say when to add it.” You placed one foot against his thigh and pushed lightly. Seungmin caught your ankle.
“No kicking near the nail polish.” “You deserve worse.” “You asked me to do this.” “And you’re doing a terrible job.”
He looked down at your nails. “They’re beautiful.” “There’s polish on my knuckle.” Your sister appeared behind you.
Seungmin glanced towards her. His expression flickered with surprise before settling into a pleasant smile. “Oh. Hi.” “Hi.”
Your sister looked him over. Her gaze paused at the headband. Then the face mask. Then your hand resting in his.
Her smile faltered, only slightly. “I didn’t know you were here.” You turned your head towards her. She knew.
You had mentioned it the previous evening when she asked what you were doing this weekend. Seungmin did not appear to remember that. “I live here sometimes,” he said. “You don’t,” you replied.
Your sister moved further into the room. “You look comfortable,” she said. Seungmin touched the edge of the headband. “This was forced on me.”
“You asked whether the bow should go in the middle,” you said. Your sister laughed, lowering herself onto the sofa behind him. “It suits you.” Seungmin looked up at her.
“The face mask?” “The headband.” He touched it again. “Thanks.”
Her smile brightened. You watched her tuck one leg elegantly over the other. Seungmin returned his attention to your hand. “Stop moving.”
“I’m not moving.” “You’re moving now.” “Because you told me not to.” He tightened his fingers around yours.
“If you smudge this one, I’m starting again.” “You’ve already smudged it.” “That was intentional.” “Was the polish on my skin intentional too?”
“Yes.” “What was the artistic vision?” “Annoying you.” You tried to pull your hand away.
Seungmin held on. “Stay still.” “You’re enjoying the authority.” “I rarely have any in this relationship.”
“Because you can’t be trusted.” Your sister leaned forwards. “You let him paint your nails?” You looked at her.
“He volunteered.” “I was coerced,” Seungmin said. “You said you could do it better than me.” “I can.”
You lifted your hand. He immediately lowered it again before the wet polish could run. “That remains to be seen.” Your sister tilted her head.
“I’d never ask my boyfriend to do something like that.” You glanced at Seungmin. He glanced at you. There it was again.
That tiny shared pause when both of you noticed something and decided, without speaking, whether it was worth reacting to. You smiled. “Good thing he isn’t your boyfriend, then.” Your sister’s expression tightened.
Only for a second. Then she laughed. “I only mean I’d feel bad making him do something so feminine.” Seungmin inspected your thumbnail.
“You think painting nails is feminine?” “Usually.” “Then I’m doing a very poor job of it.” You snorted.
He blew gently across your nail. Your sister watched his lips purse. “It’s sweet,” she said. “I just wouldn’t have expected it from you.” “What did you expect?” Seungmin asked.
“I don’t know.” She did know. You could tell by the way she leaned towards him. “Something more masculine, I suppose.”
Seungmin looked down at himself. He was wearing grey jogging bottoms, an old sweatshirt and your fluffy skincare headband. “I’m devastated.” “You know what I mean.”
“I really don’t.” She smiled as though he were deliberately teasing her. “You seem like someone who’d usually want a very feminine girlfriend.” Seungmin’s brush paused.
You looked at your sister. She was looking at him. Not you. He lifted his eyes slowly.
“I do.” Your sister’s smile widened. Then Seungmin returned his attention to your hand. “That’s why I’m dating her.”
You pressed your lips together. Your sister glanced at you. You smiled pleasantly. Seungmin dipped the brush into the polish.
“She isn’t exactly what most people would call feminine,” your sister said. You raised your eyebrows. Seungmin’s hand stopped again. Your sister gestured towards you.
You were wearing one of Seungmin’s old shirts, a pair of shorts and fluffy socks. Your hair was twisted into a loose knot that had begun collapsing an hour ago. There was a faint smudge of clay mask beside your jaw where you had attempted to kiss Seungmin before it dried. You looked extremely comfortable. That had apparently become a flaw.
“I’m not?” you asked. “I didn’t mean it badly.” “Of course not.” “You’ve never cared about being girly.”
“I’m getting my nails painted.” “By your boyfriend.” “Yes.” “So?”
“So that feels relevant.” Your sister rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. You’re not someone who gets dressed up around the house or worries about always looking attractive.” You looked down at yourself.
Then at Seungmin. His gaze had settled on your face. You recognised the slight narrowing of his eyes. Not anger.
Not yet. Attention. Your sister continued, “I just think it’s brave.” “Brave?” you repeated.
“To be that comfortable so early in a relationship.” You and Seungmin had been together for nearly two years. Apparently that remained early enough to maintain a constant state of glamour. “How does she normally dress at home?” Seungmin asked.
Your sister seemed pleased to have his attention again. “Like this.” “Right.” “She’s always been a little careless.”
“With clothes?” “With everything.” You laughed quietly. Your sister looked at you.
“What?” “Nothing.” Seungmin placed the nail brush carefully inside the bottle. Then he lifted your hand and examined his work.
“Perfect.” “It’s uneven.” “So are your fingers.” “My fingers aren’t uneven.”
“One’s shorter.” “They’re supposed to be different lengths.” “Convenient excuse.” He brought your hand towards his mouth.
You frowned. “What are you doing?” “Checking whether it’s dry.” “With your lips?”
“Yes.” “That makes no sense.” Seungmin pressed a delicate kiss to the side of your index finger, avoiding the wet nail. Then he kissed your knuckle.
Then your wrist. A smile pulled at your mouth despite yourself. “Dry,” he announced. “You didn’t touch the polish.”
“I’m an expert.” “You’re an idiot.” He kissed your wrist again. Your sister shifted on the sofa.
“You two are very…” She paused. “Affectionate.” “That sounded judgemental,” you said. “It wasn’t.” “It sounded a little judgemental,” Seungmin agreed.
“I only mean you don’t seem like the clingy type.” She was speaking to him again. Seungmin leaned back against your legs. “I’m not.”
You looked down at him. He looked up at you. “You’re currently using me as a chair.” “You’re comfortable.”
Seungmin smiled lazily, reaching behind himself until his hand found your knee. You threaded your fingers through his hair, careful not to disturb the headband. He immediately tilted his head into your touch. Your sister watched him do it.
Something in her expression hardened. “You always liked being fussed over,” she said to you. You looked at her. “What?”
“When we were younger. You always needed everyone’s attention.” The comment was casual. Almost playful. You knew better.
“I don’t remember that.” “You used to follow Mum around constantly.” “I was six.” “You cried whenever she left the room.”
“I was still six.” “You’ve never liked being alone.” Seungmin’s thumb stroked once over your knee. You shrugged.
“Good thing I don’t have to be.” Your sister’s eyes flicked towards his hand. “That’s what I mean. You need a lot from people.” There was a quietness beneath the words.
An implication she wanted Seungmin to catch. You were needy. Difficult. Exhausting.
The kind of girlfriend who demanded face masks and painted nails and constant affection. Your sister, naturally, would never require so much effort. Seungmin looked up at you. “Do you?”
“Do I what?” “Need a lot from me?” You pretended to consider it. “Well, you could make more tea.”
“I made the last one.” “You drank half of it.” “It became ours when you let me taste it.” “That’s not how sharing works.”
Your sister exhaled through her nose. “You make everything into a joke.” “You make everything very serious,” you replied. “I’m trying to have a conversation.”
“With my boyfriend?” “With both of you.” “You’ve mostly been looking at him.” The room went still.
Your sister blinked. Seungmin’s eyebrows lifted. You hadn’t intended to say it quite so plainly. You weren’t upset.
Not yet. You were mostly curious to see what she would do when someone acknowledged the obvious. She recovered quickly. “I’m looking at whoever’s speaking.”
“He hasn’t been speaking.” “He literally just was.” You smiled. “All right.”
Your sister folded her arms. “You’re being strange again.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You implied something.”
“What did I imply?” “You know exactly what.” Seungmin’s hand slid around the back of your knee. His fingertips squeezed gently.
You looked down at him. He gave you a small, private smile. There was no concern in it. He knew you weren’t jealous.
Mostly, he appeared entertained. “You came for straighteners,” you reminded your sister. “I know.” “They’re in the bedroom.”
“Can you get them?” “You know where they are.” She hesitated. Her gaze moved towards the hallway, then back to Seungmin.
“I haven’t been in your bedroom since you moved things around.” “You’ll survive.” “I don’t want to go through your things.” “You’ve never had an issue before.”
Her mouth tightened. You smiled sweetly. “I’ll show you.” You gently extracted your hand from Seungmin’s grasp, holding your fingers carefully apart.
He immediately caught your wrist. “Where are you going?” “To get the straighteners.” “You’ll ruin your nails.”
“I’m walking, not digging a tunnel.” “You’re very clumsy.” “You painted them five minutes ago. They’re dry.” Seungmin tightened his grip.
“Wait.” “What?” He reached for the bottle of top coat on the table. “You need this.”
“You didn’t mention top coat before.” “I forgot.” “You just don’t want me to leave.” “That’s ridiculous.”
“You’re holding my wrist.” “To protect my work.” “Say you’ll miss me.” “You’ll be gone for thirty seconds.”
“Then it shouldn’t be difficult.” Seungmin narrowed his eyes. Your sister watched the exchange. You waited.
He looked away first. “I’ll miss you,” he muttered. You grinned. “What was that?”
“You heard me.” “I don’t think I did.” “I’m not repeating it.” “Then I suppose I’ll have to stay.”
Seungmin looked back at you suspiciously. You lowered yourself onto the floor in front of him. His expression brightened. Then you reached for the top coat.
He held it out of reach. “You said you were staying.” “To do my own nails.” “No.”
“Give it to me.” “You’ll ruin them.” “They’re already ruined.” Seungmin gasped.
You grabbed for the bottle. He leaned away. You lunged across him, careful to keep your painted hand lifted. Seungmin caught you around the waist with his free arm.
“Behave.” “Give it.” “No.” “Seungmin.”
You tried to reach behind him. He shifted again, pulling you further into his lap. Your sister cleared her throat. You both looked towards her.
She was still sitting on the sofa. Watching. You had briefly forgotten she was there. “Sorry,” you said, although you weren’t particularly sorry.
Seungmin rested his chin on your shoulder. He still had one arm wrapped firmly around your waist. Your sister’s gaze dropped to it. “Could you get the straighteners?” she asked.
“You know where they are,” you repeated. “I already told you I don’t.” Seungmin lifted his head. “I can get them.”
Your sister’s face brightened. You turned towards him. He was already beginning to stand, carefully guiding you off his lap. Your sister rose too.
Seungmin paused. He looked at her. Then at you. You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing.
There was no reason for both of them to go. Your sister apparently believed your bedroom contained an unusually complicated straightener-storage system that required Seungmin’s personal guidance. “I know where they are,” he said. “I’ll come with you.”
“You can stay here.” Her smile faltered. “I don’t mind.” “I do.”
The answer was so immediate that you made a small choking sound. Your sister’s patience finally snapped. “Can someone please get them?” You and Seungmin both looked at her.
She smiled tightly. “The straighteners.” “Right,” you said. Seungmin pointed at you.
“Don’t touch anything.” “It’s my flat.” “My nail polish.” He disappeared down the hallway.
Your sister waited until he was out of earshot. Then she looked at you. “You don’t have to perform every time I’m here.” You stared at her.
“Perform?” “The constant touching. The little jokes.” “You think that’s for you?” “I think you’re trying very hard to prove something.”
You looked towards the hallway. Seungmin was rummaging through the bathroom cabinet, apparently having forgotten that you kept the straighteners inside your wardrobe. You turned back to her. “I’m sitting in my own living room wearing his shirt while he paints my nails.”
“Exactly.” “What am I proving?” “That you’re comfortable with him.” “I am comfortable with him.”
“You don’t need to make it so obvious.” A laugh escaped you. Your sister’s expression darkened. “What?”
“I genuinely don’t understand what you’re accusing me of.” “You’re acting territorial.” “I haven’t stopped you speaking to him.” “You don’t have to. You just keep interrupting.”
“This is my flat.” “So?” “He’s my boyfriend.” “I know that.”
“Do you?” Her eyes narrowed. You smiled. Still amused.
Mostly. But something sharper had begun pressing beneath your ribs. Your sister had always competed with you. Clothes. Friends. Attention. Compliments.
Anything you possessed became evidence that she deserved something better. You had simply never expected her to become this obvious. “You’re imagining things,” she said. “Am I?”
“Yes.” “Then why did you come dressed like that to borrow straighteners?” Her face changed. Only for an instant.
Then she scoffed. “I told you I’m going out.” “Where?” “Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” “You clearly do.” “You’ve travelled forty minutes to borrow something you could buy for twenty pounds.” “I was nearby.”
“No, you weren’t.” She folded her arms. “Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind me being here.” There it was.
You looked at her. She looked pleased with herself. “Why would he mind?” “He’s been friendly.”
“He’s usually friendly.” “Not with everyone.” You nearly smiled. Your sister had known Seungmin for one afternoon.
Apparently she had already developed an extensive understanding of his social habits. “He complimented me last time,” she continued. “When?” “He said my dress was nice.”
“Mum told him to.” “That doesn’t mean he didn’t think it.” “No, I’m sure he has very strong feelings about the dress.” “You don’t have to be jealous.”
You stared at her. Then you laughed. You couldn’t help it. The idea was so completely detached from reality that amusement overwhelmed everything else.
Your sister’s face hardened. “I’m serious.” “So am I.” “Then why are you laughing?”
“Because you think Seungmin complimenting your dress means I should be worried.” “I didn’t say you should be worried.” “You said I was jealous.” “You’re acting like it.”
“Trust me.” You leaned back against the sofa. “I’m not.” Your sister opened her mouth. Seungmin returned before she could answer. He was holding the straighteners in one hand
He handed the straighteners to your sister. She accepted them. “Thank you.” “No problem.”
Her fingers lingered against his for a moment. Seungmin looked down at their hands. Then politely extracted his own. “I should probably go,” your sister said.
You looked at the clock. She had been there for less than twenty minutes. “Your plans?” you asked. “Yes.”
She picked up her coat. Seungmin returned to the floor beside you, already reaching for your hand. Your sister watched him pull you down beside him. Your sister opened the front door.
“I’ll text you,” she said to you. “Okay.” She looked towards Seungmin. “It was nice seeing you.”
“You too.” “You look good, by the way.” Seungmin glanced down at his sweatshirt. “Thanks.”
“The headband especially.” His hand rose to the blue bow. “Right.” She laughed softly.
Then she left. You waited until the door closed. Silence settled over the flat. Seungmin stared at it.
You stared at him. He turned slowly. “What?” You broke first.
Laughter burst out of you so suddenly that you nearly knocked over the nail polish. Seungmin caught the bottle. “Careful!” “The headband especially,” you repeated.
“Stop.” “You look good, by the way.” “I said stop.” You twisted in his arms until you were facing him.
Seungmin was kneeling over you, one hand planted beside your shoulder and the other wrapped securely around your waist. You looked up at him. “I like your headband.” “Thank you. I already have a beautiful girlfriend.”
You nodded. “Very natural.” “You’re ridiculous.” “And you’re obsessed with me.”
“There it is.” “There what is?” “You’ve been waiting to say that all afternoon.” “I haven’t.”
“You have.” “No.” “Yes.” You tried to push him away with your forearm.
Seungmin remained exactly where he was. “Admit it,” he said. “Admit what?” “That you’re jealous.”
“I’m not.” “Just a little?” “No.” “Not even when she touched my hand?”
“I thought about breaking her fingers.” Seungmin’s eyes widened. You hooked one leg around his hips and attempted to roll him onto his back. He anticipated it, shifting his weight before you could gain any leverage.
“You’re cheating,” you complained. “How?” “You’re stronger.” “That isn’t cheating.”
“It is when I’m losing.” He laughed. You used the distraction to push at his shoulder again. Seungmin caught both your wrists.
Your breath hitched, more from surprise than anything else. He pinned them lightly above your head, careful not to let your nails touch the carpet. His hair had begun slipping free from the headband. The clay mask had cracked faintly near the corners of his smile.
He looked completely ridiculous. And unfairly lovely. “Still think I enjoyed it?” he asked. You pretended to consider your answer.
His eyes narrowed. “Choose carefully.” You bit back a smile. “She is very feminine.”
Seungmin lowered his face closer to yours. “Wrong direction.” “And confident.” His grip tightened slightly around your wrists.
You laughed. “And sophisticated.” “Do you want to keep your newly painted nails?” “That sounds like a threat.”
“It is.” “You worked so hard on them.” “I can start again.” “You wouldn’t.”
“I have nowhere to be.” You squirmed beneath him. He shifted, trapping you more securely without putting his weight on you. “You’re impossible,” you said.
“You started this.” “She’s your type.” Seungmin stared at you. Then he released one of your wrists.
You immediately tried to escape. His free hand found your side. You squealed. “No!”
“Take it back.” “You can’t keep doing this!” “I can until you learn.” His fingers dug gently into your waist.
You dissolved into laughter, twisting helplessly beneath him. “The mask!” you gasped. “You’ll crack the mask!” “I don’t care.” “You were worried about it two minutes ago!”
“You’ve pushed me too far.” You kicked at the rug. Seungmin caught your leg beneath his knee. “You’re evil!”
“And?” “Controlling!” “And?” “Obsessed with me!”
His fingers stopped. “There we go.” You glared up at him, breathless. “That isn’t fair.”
“It’s completely fair.” “I was supposed to say you don’t want her.” “I know I don’t want her.” “You’re supposed to reassure me.”
“Are you worried?” “No.” “Then why do you need reassurance?” “Because I enjoy compliments.”
Seungmin smiled. The teasing faded gently from his expression. He released your other wrist and settled his hand beside your head instead. “You’re very pretty.”
“That was basic.” “You’re especially pretty when you’re wearing my clothes.” “Better.” “You’re funny.”
“I know.” “And irritating.” “That wasn’t a compliment.” “It’s one of my favourite things about you.”
You looked up at him. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek. “You’re my favourite person to come home to,” he continued. “My favourite person to annoy. My favourite person to do absolutely nothing with.” Your smile softened.
Seungmin’s did too. “And,” he added, “I’m so obsessed with you that I let you put this stupid thing on my head.” You touched the bow. “You love the headband.”
“I tolerate it.” “You’re avoiding the important part.” “What important part?” “The part where you admit I’m obsessed with you.”
You laughed. “You just admitted it yourself.” “I want to hear you say it.” “You’re obsessed with me.”
“And?” You stared at him. He waited expectantly. “And you don’t want my sister.”
“Obviously.” “And?” A slow grin spread across his face. You realised what he wanted.
“No.” “Say it.” “I’m not saying it.” “You know you want to.”
“I don’t.” Seungmin’s fingers hovered threateningly near your waist. You recoiled. “Don’t.”
“Then say it.” “You’re abusing your power.” “I’m waiting.” You glared at him.
He looked delighted. “And I’m obsessed with you too,” you muttered. “What was that?” “You heard me.”
“The face mask is restricting my hearing.” “That isn’t how masks work.” “Speak clearly.” You tried not to smile.
“I’m obsessed with you too.” “There we go.” He bent and kissed you. It began soft.
A pleased little press of his lips against yours. Then you reached for the back of his neck and accidentally brushed one wet nail against his cheek. Seungmin pulled away. You froze.
A bright streak of polish now cut through the dried clay mask. For one second, neither of you moved. Then you burst out laughing. Seungmin stared at you.
“You ruined it.” “I’m sorry!” “You did that on purpose.” “I didn’t!”
“You attacked me.” “You were on top of me!” “Because you accused me of wanting your sister.” Seungmin touched his cheek.
His fingers came away with polish on them. His mouth dropped open. You laughed even harder. “You look beautiful.”
“You’re sleeping on the sofa.” “It’s my flat.” “Then I’m sleeping in your bed alone.” “You wouldn’t last ten minutes.”
“I’d sleep perfectly.” You grinned. Seungmin tried to maintain his glare. He failed.
A laugh escaped him. Then another. He lowered his head until his forehead rested against your shoulder, both of you shaking with laughter on the living-room floor. You wrapped your arms around him.
“Your mask really is ruined.” “I know.” “And the polish is definitely smudged.” “I know.”
౨ৎ
Your sister invited herself shopping with you three days later. Technically, she asked whether you had bought your mum’s birthday present yet. When you told her that you and Seungmin were going into town on Sunday to find something, she replied that she had been planning to go that day too. You had stared at the message for several seconds. Seungmin, lying beside you with his head on your stomach, had tilted his phone away from his face and asked, “Why are you making that expression?”
“My sister wants to come shopping with us.” He had gone silent. You lowered your phone to look at him. “That was a very long pause.” “I was trying to think of something polite.”
“And?” “I couldn’t.” You laughed and ran your fingers through his hair. “We are shopping for her mum too.” “Unfortunately.”
“She’s my mum.” “That’s why I said unfortunately. I like your mum.” “You’re horrible.” Seungmin had turned his head and pressed a kiss to your stomach through your shirt. “Tell her she can come.”
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.” “I’m thrilled. Maybe she can tell me more about what kind of woman I usually prefer.” You had flicked his forehead. He had bitten your finger.
The matter was settled.
౨ৎ
Your sister arrived twenty minutes late. You and Seungmin had already been standing outside the shopping centre long enough for him to complain about the cold four times, steal one of your gloves and attempt to warm his other hand by shoving it beneath the back of your jumper. You had slapped him away. He had waited thirty seconds before trying again.
“Your hand is freezing,” you complained, twisting out of his reach. “That’s why I need your body heat.” “You have pockets.” “They’re not as warm as you.”
“They don’t want you touching them either.” Seungmin smiled and caught the belt loop of your jeans when you tried to step away. “Come back.” “No.” “You’re abandoning me.”
“I’m moving half a metre.” “That’s still too far.” You rolled your eyes, but you let him pull you backwards until your shoulder rested against his chest. He wrapped both arms around your waist and tucked his chin over your shoulder, immediately pleased with himself. “You’re very clingy today,” you said.
“It’s cold.” “You were clingy yesterday too.” “I was tired.” “You fell asleep on top of me. I couldn’t breathe.”
“And yet you let me stay.” His laugh warmed the side of your neck. Your sister found you like that. She slowed as she approached, taking in Seungmin’s arms around your middle and the way your hands rested over his. Then she smiled.
“Sorry,” she said, although she did not sound particularly sorry. “The train was delayed.” “You said you were driving,” you replied. She paused. Seungmin’s face disappeared briefly against your shoulder. You felt the silent shake of his laughter.
“I changed my mind,” your sister said. “Clearly.” She looked at Seungmin. “Have you been waiting long?” “Long enough for her to attack me.”
“I moved your freezing hand away,” you said. Seungmin tightened his arms around your waist. “Exactly.” Your sister laughed, her gaze lingering on him a little too long. “You poor thing.” Your sister looked at you with a small, knowing smile. “You’ve always been like that.”
“Like what?” “Rough.” Seungmin’s eyebrows rose. You looked down at your outfit as though you might find evidence of roughness on your coat. “I pushed his hand away.”
“I’m only joking.” “Right.” “She’s very frightening,” Seungmin said solemnly. “I live in constant fear.” Then he kissed your cheek and released you, taking your hand instead. “Can we go inside before I lose feeling in my fingers?”
“You stole my glove.” “It wasn’t enough.” Your sister walked beside him as you entered the shopping centre. You ended up on his other side.
It was not immediately strange. The pavement narrowed near the doors, people moved around you, and your sister had always been skilled at placing herself exactly where she wanted to be without appearing deliberate. But once you were inside, she remained there. She asked Seungmin what he thought you should buy. She asked whether he enjoyed shopping. She asked which shops he liked, whether he cared about clothes and whether he usually chose his own outfits. He answered politely.
Mostly. When she asked whether he had a favourite designer, he said, “Whoever makes comfortable trousers.” When she asked what colours he liked on women, he said, “Normal ones.” Your sister frowned. “I was asking a normal question.”
“I know,” you said. “His answer was stupid.” Seungmin swung your joined hands between you. Your sister glanced down. “I think you’d suit darker colours,” she told him.
“I wear dark colours.” “I know. They make you look more mature.” You looked across him. “What does he look like now?” She ignored you. “You have a very classic face.”
Seungmin turned towards you. “Do I?” “No.” He looked offended. “You didn’t even think about it.” “I look at your face every day.”
“And you’ve never thought it was classic?” “I’ve thought it was annoying.” “That isn’t a facial structure.” “It should be.”
Your sister sighed softly. “You never take compliments seriously.” “She rarely gives them,” Seungmin said. “I complimented you this morning.” “You said my hair looked less strange than usual.”
“That was generous.” “You also said I looked tired.” “You did.” “You make me feel very cherished.”
You stopped in the middle of the walkway and placed both hands around his face. “You are beautiful.” Seungmin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re mocking me.” “Never.” “You’re smiling.”
“Because you’re beautiful.” He stared at you for another second before his mouth betrayed him. A reluctant smile appeared. “There,” you said, squeezing his cheeks. “Pretty.”
Seungmin caught both your wrists and pulled your hands away. “Don’t touch my face in public.” “You love it.” Your sister had gone quiet. You released Seungmin’s face and started walking again. He slipped his hand into yours as though the interruption had never happened.
The first shop was useless. The second was worse. Your mum had said she wanted something for the house, which sounded simple until you were faced with fifteen aisles of objects she might already own. Your sister suggested a decorative vase.
You reminded her that your mum had six. Seungmin picked up a tiny ceramic dog wearing a crown. You told him to put it down. “She’d love him,” he said.
“She’d ask why we bought her rubbish.” “He’s cute.” “He’s ugly.” “He can hear you.”
Your sister smiled at Seungmin. “I think he’s cute.” You looked at her. She was not looking at the ceramic dog. Seungmin, apparently unaware or pretending to be, placed the ornament carefully in your hands. “Hold him.”
“No.” “He likes you.” “You like him.” “He reminds me of you.”
You stared at the dog. The dog stared back with badly painted eyes. “You’re sleeping alone tonight.” Seungmin smiled. “You say that every week.”
“One day I’ll mean it.” “No, you won’t.” Your sister picked up a sleek glass vase and held it towards Seungmin. “What about this?” He glanced at it. “It’s nice.”
“She already has something similar,” you said. Your sister’s smile tightened. “Not exactly like this.” “It’s almost identical.” “It’s more modern.”
“Mum doesn’t care about modern.” “She might.” Your sister looked at Seungmin. “What do you think?” He looked between you both.
Then at the vase. Then at the ceramic dog still in your hands. “I think we should buy the dog.” You laughed.
Your sister did not. “You’re both impossible,” she said, returning the vase to the shelf. “That keeps coming up,” Seungmin replied. You carried the dog for another two aisles before secretly placing it on a display of cushions.
Seungmin noticed immediately. “Where is he?” “Who?” “The dog.”
“I don’t know.” “You abandoned him.” “He wasn’t ours.” “He could have been.”
“Not everything you like has to come home with us.” “You came home with me.” Your sister laughed. You turned towards Seungmin slowly. “Was that meant to be sweet?”
“Yes.” “It sounded like you found me beside a road.” “I rescued you.” “From what?”
“Yourself.” You shoved him lightly towards a stack of towels. He caught your elbow and pulled you with him, making you stumble against his chest. His free arm wrapped around your waist before you could fall. You tried not to smile.
You failed. Your sister walked ahead.
౨ৎ
After nearly an hour, you found a set of handmade serving bowls that your mum would genuinely like. Your sister thought they were plain. Seungmin thought one of them looked like a hat. You thought both of them needed to stop talking.
You were waiting at the till when your sister announced that she wanted coffee. “There’s a place downstairs,” she said. “I’ll go.” “I’ll come,” you replied. “I need the toilet anyway.” Her expression flickered.
Only slightly. Then she smiled. “You can stay with the bags. Seungmin and I can get them.” Seungmin looked up from the receipt in his hand. You looked at her.
She looked at him. There was a small silence. Then Seungmin said, “She knows my order.” Your sister recovered quickly. “You can tell me.”
“I’ll forget something.” “It’s coffee.” “He’s very demanding,” you said. Seungmin nodded.
Your sister laughed, although her eyes stayed on him. “I think I can manage.” You could have refused. Part of you wanted to, not because you thought anything would happen, but because your sister’s intentions had become so transparent that allowing her to proceed felt almost embarrassing. Then curiosity won.
You handed the shopping bag to Seungmin. “Fine. Get me something sweet.” “What?” “Surprise me.” “That always ends badly.”
“Only because you make poor choices.” Seungmin stared at you. You smiled. He sighed. “Fine.”
Your sister looked pleased. Far too pleased. You kissed Seungmin’s cheek before stepping away. “Don’t let her buy me anything with coconut.”
౨ৎ
Seungmin watched you disappear into the crowd. He knew exactly what you were doing. You had kissed him in front of your sister on purpose. Not because you were worried.
Because you were a menace. A message appeared on his phone before he and your sister had reached the escalator. Don’t fall in love while I’m gone x He smiled despite himself.
Your sister noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” “Was that her?”
“Yes.” “What did she say?” Seungmin put his phone away. “Nothing important.” Your sister stepped onto the escalator beside him.
For several seconds, she was silent. Then she said, “She checks on you a lot.” Seungmin looked at her. “Does she?” “She’s always texting you.”
“We text each other.” “I know. I just mean she likes knowing where you are.” He considered the comment. “She sent me a joke.”
“What joke?” “One you wouldn’t find funny.” Your sister’s mouth tightened. “You don’t know that.” “I know her sense of humour.”
“And mine?” “Not really.” The escalator carried them down another floor. Your sister rested one hand on the rail. “You and her are very different.”
Seungmin looked ahead. “You’ve mentioned that.” “I don’t mean it as an insult.” “You keep saying that too.” She laughed softly. “You remember.”
“I have a good memory.” “You do seem observant.” “Sometimes.” “That’s why I’m surprised.”
He turned his head. “By what?” She looked briefly uncertain, as if she had expected him to understand without making her say it aloud. “Nothing.”
Seungmin faced forwards again. The coffee shop was busy. A line curled away from the counter, giving your sister more time than she probably needed. She moved closer to him as they joined it. “I’ve always wondered how she ended up with someone like you.”
Seungmin’s expression did not change. “Someone like me?” “Successful. Disciplined. Mature.” “You think she isn’t those things?”
“I didn’t say that.” “You implied it.” Your sister sighed. “You’re very defensive of her.” “She’s my girlfriend.”
“I know.” “Then why are you surprised?” “I’m not surprised. I just think you misunderstand me.” Seungmin shoved one hand into his coat pocket. “Then explain.”
Your sister glanced towards the counter. The line had barely moved. “She’s always been the sweet one,” she said. “The one people feel protective over. I’ve always been more independent.” “Okay.” “She needs more reassurance.”
“Does she?” “You’ve seen how she is.” “I have.” “And that doesn’t get tiring?”
Seungmin looked at her properly. His tone stayed light, but his eyes sharpened. “No.” Your sister held his gaze. “You don’t have to pretend with me.” “I’m not.”
“She can be a lot.” “So can I.” “You’re different.” “You don’t know me.”
The words landed more firmly than anything he had said before. Your sister blinked. Seungmin looked back towards the counter. The line moved forward.
For a few seconds, she said nothing. Then she tried again. “She doesn’t tell people this, but she used to get overlooked a lot when we were younger.” Seungmin’s jaw tightened.
“Overlooked by who?” “People.” Your sister exhaled, clearly frustrated by his refusal to fill in the gaps for her. “Boys usually noticed me first.”
Seungmin waited. She smiled faintly. “She never minded. At least, she pretended not to.” He looked at her. “And?”
“And nothing. I’m only saying it’s probably nice for her to be the one someone chose for once.” Seungmin stared at her for a long moment. Your sister interpreted the silence as an opening. “You’re kind,” she continued. “You probably don’t even realise how much that means to her.”
“I noticed her.” The sentence was quiet. Immediate. Your sister’s smile faltered.
“I didn’t say you didn’t.” “You said people didn’t.” “I said they usually noticed me first.” “I didn’t.”
Something sharp passed across her face. Then she laughed. “You hadn’t met me.” Seungmin looked at her.
The confidence in her smile returned. It was not difficult to understand what she meant. If he had seen her first, things might have been different. If he knew her better, he might recognise what he had missed.
If you had not reached him before she did, perhaps he would have made the correct choice. Seungmin almost laughed. Instead, he said, “I’ve met you now.” Your sister’s smile remained fixed.
The line moved again. She stepped closer. “I think we have more in common than you realise.” “Do we?”
“We’re both ambitious.” “So is she.” “We care about how we present ourselves.” “She does too.”
“She doesn’t care what anyone thinks.” “That’s one of the things I like about her.” Your sister’s eyes narrowed. “You turn everything into a compliment about her.” “Yes.”
The answer was so simple that it left nowhere for the conversation to go. Your sister looked away. Seungmin’s phone buzzed again. He checked it.
Is she seducing you yet? A second message appeared. Blink twice if you need rescue Then:
Actually don’t. I can’t see you He laughed under his breath. Your sister glanced towards the phone. “She’s checking again?”
“She’s entertaining herself.” “She doesn’t trust me.” Seungmin looked up. “Should she?” Your sister went still.
He raised his eyebrows slightly. For the first time, she seemed uncertain whether he was joking. Then he smiled. Not warmly.
Not cruelly either. Just enough to make the question impossible to challenge. Your sister looked towards the menu. “What did she want?”
“Something sweet.” “That isn’t very specific.” “She likes trying new things.” “I know.”
“Do you?” Your sister frowned. “She’s my sister.” Seungmin slipped his phone into his pocket. “Then choose.” She looked at the display board.
After a moment, she suggested a coconut latte. Seungmin stared at her. “What?” “She hates coconut.”
Your sister hesitated. “Does she?” “She told you five minutes ago.” “I forgot.” “I didn’t.”
He ordered your favourite instead.
౨ৎ
You returned to find them sitting at a small table near the window. Your sister was speaking. Seungmin was looking at his phone. That alone told you almost everything you needed to know.
He was never rude enough to ignore someone without a reason. When he spotted you, his entire expression changed. His shoulders relaxed. His mouth curved into a smile. He put his phone down and lifted one hand towards you. “There you are.”
You slid into the seat beside him. Seungmin immediately hooked his fingers through the belt loop at the back of your jeans and tugged you closer. “I was gone for fifteen minutes.” “It was difficult.”
“You seemed fine.” Your sister looked between you. You picked up the drink in front of your seat and inspected it. “What did you get me?” “Try it.”
“What is it?” “I’m not telling you.” “Why?” “You said to surprise you.”
“I don’t trust you.” Seungmin pushed the cup closer. “Drink.” You took a cautious sip. It was sweet, creamy and familiar.
Your favourite. You looked at him. He smiled smugly. “You didn’t choose something new.”
“I chose something you’d like.” “That isn’t a surprise.” “You were surprised.” “I was surprised you made a good decision.”
Seungmin leaned towards you. “Say thank you.” “No.” “Say it.” “You’re very demanding.”
“I carried the bowls.” “They’re in one bag.” “A heavy bag.” “They’re ceramic, not concrete.”
Your sister interrupted. “He remembered your order.” You looked at her. There was something brittle in her voice. Seungmin rested his chin briefly on your shoulder and stole a sip of your drink.
You pushed his face away. “Of course he did,” you said. “He orders it more than I do.” “For you,” he corrected. “You steal half.”
“It tastes better when it’s yours.” “That’s because you’re a thief.” He smiled against your cheek. Your sister looked away.
You could practically feel the conversation you had interrupted sitting between them. You waited until Seungmin sat back. Then you asked, “Did you have a nice chat?” Your sister reached for her coffee.
Seungmin looked at you. His eyes were bright with the effort of not laughing. “Very informative.” “Oh?”
“I learned that I’m successful, disciplined and mature.” You nodded solemnly. “One out of three isn’t bad.” Seungmin kicked your foot beneath the table. You kicked him back.
Your sister sighed. “I was complimenting him.” “I know.” “She thinks I’m mature,” Seungmin said. “She doesn’t live with you.”
“I don’t live with you.” Under the table, Seungmin’s knee pressed against yours. You tapped it once with your own. He tapped back.
Your sister watched the movement. “I was only saying that you’re lucky,” she said. You looked at her. “Again?” “You are.”
“I know.” “She thinks you’re lucky someone finally noticed you,” Seungmin added. The words were delivered with deceptive casualness. Your sister’s head snapped towards him.
Your hand stilled around the cup. Seungmin lifted his drink. You looked at your sister. She looked suddenly furious.
“I didn’t say it like that.” “How did you say it?” “I said people usually noticed me first when we were younger.” You raised your eyebrows.
Your sister leaned back. “It was relevant to the conversation.” “What conversation?” “We were talking about relationships.” “You were talking about mine?”
“She asked whether dating you was tiring,” Seungmin said. You stared at him. He took a calm sip. Your sister’s face reddened. “That isn’t what I asked.”
“It was very close.” “You’re twisting my words.” “I remember them quite clearly.” You looked between them.
The ridiculousness of it arrived before the hurt could. Your sister had finally managed to get Seungmin alone, and she had apparently used the opportunity to explain why being with you must be exhausting. A laugh slipped out. Your sister’s mouth tightened. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because you had fifteen minutes.” “What?” “You finally got him alone and that was your strategy?” Seungmin choked on his drink.
Your sister stared at you. You turned towards him. “Are you all right?” He held up one hand and coughed into the other. “You’re horrible,” he managed.
“You were thinking it too.” “I was trying to be polite.” Your sister placed her cup on the table more firmly than necessary. “Nothing happened.” You looked at her. “I know.”
“Then stop acting like you caught me doing something.” “I didn’t catch you. He told me.” Your sister stood. The legs of her chair scraped against the floor.
“I’m going to look at another shop.” You glanced at the untouched coffee. “We just sat down.” “I remembered something I need.” She grabbed her handbag.
Seungmin watched her. Your sister looked at him, waiting for something. An offer to come with her, perhaps. An apology.
A private look that confirmed all the things she had decided existed between them. Seungmin lifted his hand. For one hopeful second, she smiled. Then he pointed towards her cup. “Are you taking that?”
Her smile disappeared. “No.” “Can I have it?” You elbowed him.
“What?” he asked. “She isn’t drinking it.” Your sister walked away without answering. You watched her disappear into the crowd. Then you turned slowly towards Seungmin.
He was already reaching for her abandoned coffee. You slapped his hand. “No.” “She said she didn’t want it.”
“You don’t know what’s in it.” “Coffee.” “She might have poisoned it.” “Why would she poison her own drink?”
“She sensed rejection.” Seungmin laughed. You folded your arms. “What did she actually say?” He gave up on the coffee and leaned back in his chair.
“Exactly what I told you.” “She asked whether I was tiring?” “She implied that you need constant reassurance, said you’re a lot and suggested I probably chose you because I’m kind.” Your amusement faded a little.
Seungmin noticed immediately. His foot slid beside yours under the table. “She also told me men usually noticed her first,” he added. You looked at the crowd beyond the window. “She loves saying that.”
“I asked which men.” That made you smile. Seungmin’s knee pressed more firmly against yours. “She couldn’t name them.”
“You interrogated her?” “I asked good questions.” “You never ask good questions.” “That’s unfair.”
You looked back at him. He was watching you closely. Not pushing. Just waiting.
“What else?” you asked. Seungmin hesitated. “She implied I might have chosen differently if I’d met her first.” A strange little ache settled beneath your ribs. Not because you believed it.
The idea of Seungmin choosing your sister felt almost comical. But because she believed your entire relationship could be reduced to timing. That you had simply arrived first and seized something that should have belonged to her. You looked down at your cup. “And what did you say?”
“That I’ve met her now.” Your mouth twitched. “That’s all?” “I thought it was enough.”
“It is.” “She didn’t like it.” “I’m devastated for her.” “I also told her I noticed you.”
Your fingers tightened slightly around the cup. Seungmin’s expression softened. “What?” “Nothing.”
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I noticed you.” You fought a smile. You covered his mouth with your hand. Seungmin kissed your palm.
You pulled it away immediately. “That’s disgusting.” “You liked that too.” “You’re so pleased with yourself.”
“I handled a difficult social situation and bought you the correct drink.” “You want a medal?” “A kiss would be appropriate.” “You’re asking for payment?”
“I did hard labour.” “You stood in a coffee queue.” “With your sister.” You considered that.
Seungmin lifted his eyebrows. You leaned over and kissed his cheek. He turned his head at the last second, catching the corner of your mouth instead. You pulled back.
“That was cheating.” “You’re slow.” “You tricked me.” “You still kissed me.”
“Barely.” “You can try again.” “I’m not rewarding bad behaviour.” Seungmin rested one elbow on the table. “Then I’ll have to live with the memory.”
“You’re dramatic.” “I suffered for fifteen minutes.” “You were texting me.” “That was my lifeline.”
You laughed and nudged his foot beneath the table. Seungmin caught your ankle between his. “You know she’s going to tell herself you only rejected her because you knew I was coming back.” Seungmin’s expression became thoughtful. “Do you want me to say it more directly?”
You looked towards the direction your sister had disappeared. Part of you wanted him to. Part of you knew she would turn even that into evidence of something else. “She hasn’t actually admitted she wants you,” you said.
“She invited herself on our date.” “We’re buying Mum bowls.” “A highly romantic date.” Seungmin reached for your hand across the table.
His thumb brushed slowly over your knuckles. “If she says something properly,” he said, “I’ll answer properly.” “You have answered.” “I mean without being polite.”
“That sounds frightening.” Seungmin squeezed your hand. “Tell her that when she tries again.” You looked at him. “When?”
He smiled. “You think she’s stopping?” You glanced once more towards the crowd. “No.”
“Neither do I.” There was a pause. Then Seungmin brightened. “Can we go back for the dog?” “No.”
“He could be part of your mum’s present.” “She would hate him.” “She’d learn to love him.” “You only knew him for ten minutes.”
“That was enough.” Seungmin smiled and lifted your hand to his mouth. This time, he kissed your knuckles slowly. You let him.
Your sister returned ten minutes later carrying nothing. Neither of you mentioned it. Seungmin did, however, remain close to you for the rest of the afternoon. His hand at your waist when people passed too close. His fingers laced through yours on the escalator. His chin briefly resting on your shoulder while you examined candles. His mouth near your ear when he whispered that one of them smelled like “an expensive wardrobe”.
Your sister tried to walk beside him. Seungmin kept drifting back towards you. She asked his opinion. He asked yours.
She suggested shops. He followed wherever you went. By the time you left the shopping centre, your sister had stopped speaking unless someone addressed her directly. The three of you stood near the station while she checked the time.
“My train’s in five minutes,” she said. Your sister adjusted her handbag and looked at Seungmin. “It was nice spending time with you.” “You too.” “We should do it again.”
You looked at him. He looked at you. Your sister noticed. “Without making it into a whole family thing,” she added.
You raised your eyebrows. Seungmin slipped his arm around your shoulders. “I think she comes with me.” Your sister laughed. “You’re allowed separate friends.” “I have friends.”
“She means her,” you said. “I know.” Your sister’s cheeks coloured. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“What did you mean?” Seungmin asked. She looked at him. He waited. His expression was pleasant.
Curious. Entirely unwilling to rescue her. Your sister’s train arrived with a rush of noise behind her. She glanced towards the platform.
“I have to go.” “You should hurry,” you said. She hugged you briefly. When she turned towards Seungmin, he lifted the shopping bag between them.
Your sister stopped. He smiled politely. “Bye.” For a moment, she looked as though she might push around the bag and hug him anyway.
Then she stepped back. “Bye.” You watched her hurry towards the train. As soon as she was out of earshot, Seungmin lowered the bag.
“You used Mum’s bowls as a shield,” you said. “I panicked.” “You’re very brave.” “She hugged me last time.”
“Terrifying.” “I didn’t know what else to do.” “You could have hugged her.” Seungmin looked horrified. “Why would I do that?”
“She’s confident and sophisticated.” “Stop.” “More your type.” He pointed at you. “We discussed this.”
“She only needs an opportunity.” “You’re becoming annoying.” “Becoming?” “More annoying.”
You smiled. Seungmin stared at you for a second. Then he hooked one arm around your waist and lifted you just enough that your shoes left the ground. You yelped.
“Put me down!” “Take it back.” “We’re in public!” “I don’t care.”
You grabbed his shoulders, laughing as he carried you several steps away from the platform. Seungmin lowered you carefully to the ground. His smile softened. Seungmin took your hand again, swinging it once between you before pulling you towards the station exit.
“Come on,” he said. “We have to go back.” “For what?” “The dog.” “We are not buying the dog.”
“He’s waiting for us.” “He’s ceramic.” “He’ll think we abandoned him.” “You said I was the abandoned animal.”
“I can rescue both of you.” “You already complain that I take up too much space.” “He’s small.” “I hate you.”
Seungmin kissed the side of your head. He smiled and kept walking. You followed, because the station exit was in the same direction as the shop. Not because you had agreed to buy the dog.
Definitely not. When your mum opened her birthday present a week later, she found a beautiful set of handmade serving bowls. And, tucked between them, a tiny ceramic dog wearing a crown. She stared at it.
You stared at Seungmin. Seungmin looked unbearably pleased.
౨ৎ
By the time you finished getting ready, Seungmin had changed his shirt twice, complained about both options and somehow blamed you for the fact that neither looked right. “You said the black one was nice,” he reminded you from the bedroom doorway. “It was nice.” “And then you told me to wear the blue one.”
“Because the blue one is nicer.” “So the black one was ugly.” “That isn’t what I said.” “It’s what you implied.”
You turned away from the mirror and looked at him. He stood with both shirts hanging from one hand, his hair still slightly damp from the shower and an expression of genuine betrayal on his face. “You’re having a crisis over two nearly identical shirts.” “They aren’t nearly identical.” “One is black and one is very dark blue.”
“Exactly.” You stared at him. Seungmin stared back. Then his gaze drifted slowly down your body.
The offence disappeared from his expression. You had chosen an outfit that made you feel good. You suspected you would regret that decision later, but Seungmin’s reaction made it worth it. He looked at you for long enough that you lifted an eyebrow. “What?” “Nothing.”
You tried not to smile. “Have you not seen me before?” “Not in that.” “You watched me put it on.” “I was distracted.”
“By what?” “The shirt crisis.” You laughed and turned back towards the mirror. Seungmin abandoned both shirts on the bed and crossed the room, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “You look pretty,” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Only pretty?” His eyes narrowed at your reflection. “Don’t become demanding.” “You stared at me for thirty seconds. I expected something better.” “You look very pretty.”
“That’s the same thing with an extra word.” “You look so pretty that I’m reconsidering letting you leave the flat.” You smiled. “Better.” “I knew you were fishing.”
“I enjoy compliments.” “I know.” Seungmin kissed the side of your neck, then another spot slightly lower. You tilted your head instinctively before remembering you had spent far too long getting ready. “Don’t ruin my makeup.”
“I’m nowhere near your makeup.” “You’ll work your way up.” “That sounds like encouragement.” You caught his wrists and pulled his arms away. Seungmin resisted just enough to make it difficult, then released you with an exaggerated sigh.
“You don’t love me anymore.” “I’m trying to get us to the party.” “Chan said eight.” “It’s quarter past.”
“Exactly. We’re early.” You looked at him through the mirror. “For what?” “A party.” “That started fifteen minutes ago.”
“Social events have a grace period.” “You invented that because you’re never ready on time.” “I was ready.” “You aren’t wearing a shirt.”
Seungmin looked down at his bare chest, then at the two shirts abandoned on the bed. Your phone buzzed on the dressing table. You picked it up. Your sister had messaged.
Are you there yet? A second message followed before you could reply. Is Seungmin going straight from yours? You turned the screen towards him.
Seungmin read both messages. His face remained blank for one beat, then he placed his chin back on your shoulder. “She misses me.” “She saw you last week.” “A long separation.”
“She didn’t ask whether I was going straight from mine.” “She knows you’ll be there.” “She also knows you’ll be there.” “That must be why she asked to come.”
You laughed and nudged him backwards with your hip. “Put the blue shirt on.” “The black one makes my shoulders look better.” “Then wear the black one.” “You said the blue was nicer.”
“Seungmin.” He smiled and kissed your cheek before finally retrieving the blue shirt. You replied to your sister while he dressed. We’re leaving soon. Bring the drinks you promised Chan.
Her response came almost immediately. What’s Seungmin wearing? You looked up. He was buttoning the blue shirt.
You considered sending her a photograph of the black one lying empty on the bed. Instead, you typed: Clothes x Seungmin glanced over. “What did you say?”
“Nothing important.” “You’re smiling.” “I’m entertaining myself.” “Is she seducing me remotely now?”
“Apparently she needs to prepare.” “For what?” “To be more your type.” Seungmin finished the final button and walked towards you. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“It’s funny.” “Until she touches my arm fifteen times.” “Maybe she thinks that’s where your romantic feelings are stored.” “That would explain why I keep trying to get away.”
You laughed, and Seungmin’s smile softened. He reached out to fix the chain of your necklace where it had twisted, his fingers careful against the back of your neck. “Tell me if it stops being funny,” he said. The words were quiet enough to change the air between you. You turned.
Seungmin let his hands settle at your waist. “I will.” “Promise?” “You already made me promise.”
“I’m making you do it again.” “Very controlling.” “Very caring.” “Debatable.”
He squeezed your waist. “Promise.” You rested both hands against his chest. “I promise.” Satisfied, Seungmin kissed your forehead. Then he leant back and examined his shirt in the mirror. “Do my shoulders look strange?”
You pushed him towards the door.
౨ৎ
The party remained civilised for approximately forty minutes. Then Changbin brought out the shot glasses. Chan saw them from across the room and immediately shook his head. “Take it easy” “You bought the alcohol,” Changbin reminded him.
Jisung appeared beside the kitchen counter as though summoned by the word drinking. “Shots are normal.” “You said that last time and threw up in my shoes.” “That was unrelated.” “It was directly related.”
Felix slid into the space beside Jisung and began examining the bottles. You followed closely behind him, your own drink already mostly gone. Seungmin caught your wrist before you could reach for anything. “You’re not doing shots.” You looked at his hand around your wrist, then at him. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve already had three drinks.” “So have you.” “I can still walk in a straight line.” “I can walk in a straight line.”
Seungmin released you and pointed towards the hallway. You stared at him. He lifted his eyebrows. “You want me to demonstrate?”
“Yes.” You placed your empty glass on the counter and turned towards the hallway with as much dignity as you could manage. Felix and Jisung watched in complete silence. You took three perfectly respectable steps.
Then your hip struck the edge of the sofa. You stopped. Seungmin smiled. “The sofa moved.”
“It’s been there all night.” “It knew I was trying to prove something.” Jisung nodded seriously. “Furniture can sense weakness.” Minho, sitting nearby with his ankle resting over one knee, looked at him. “That explains why you keep walking into doors.”
Jisung placed a hand over his chest. “Why are you attacking me?” “Because you make it easy.” Jisung abandoned the counter and dropped onto the sofa beside him. Within seconds, his legs were stretched across Minho’s lap. Minho glanced down but made no effort to move them.
You pointed towards them. “He can’t walk straight either.” “He’s sitting,” Seungmin said. “He was walking badly earlier.” Changbin began pouring.
Hyunjin took the bottle from Changbin before he could overfill the glasses. “At least make them even. You’re pouring like you’ve never seen liquid before.” “I’m being generous.” “You’re trying to kill Jisung.” Jisung lifted his head from Minho’s shoulder. “Yes please.”
Minho pressed one hand against his forehead and pushed him back down. “You accept nothing.” You managed to claim a glass before Seungmin could stop you. Felix took one. Jisung reached for another, but Minho lifted it out of reach.
Jisung stared at him. “Give it.” “No.” “You aren’t my father.” “Thank fuck for that.”
“You can’t control me.” Minho looked at the legs still resting across his lap. “Stand up, then.” Jisung considered it. “No.”
“Thought so.” Felix passed Jisung his own glass beneath the edge of the table. Minho saw. He allowed it.
You caught his eye. Minho shrugged and took another drink. “Traitor,” Seungmin told him. “I’m off duty.”
“You were never on duty,” Chan said. “Exactly.” Changbin raised his glass. “To Chan finally letting us have fun.” “This is my party.”
“Then act like it.” Chan swore at him, but lifted his drink anyway. Everyone crowded closer. Your friend remained beside your sister near the end of the counter, amused but still slightly removed from the intimacy of the group. You caught her eye and held up your glass.
She lifted hers back. Your sister barely noticed. She was watching Seungmin. He stood behind you with one hand resting against your hip, his thumb moving absently beneath the hem of your top.
You leaned back into him. “To being hot,” Hyunjin said. Jeongin nodded. “Finally, something relevant.” Chan looked around the group. “Can we toast to something normal?”
“No,” everyone replied. The shot burned on the way down. Felix coughed. You squeezed your eyes shut and grabbed the first solid thing you found.
It was Changbin’s arm. “Fuck.” Changbin laughed. “You agreed to it.” “That tasted like paint stripper.”
“You’ve never tasted paint stripper.” “Maybe I have.” Seungmin pulled you backwards against his chest. “And this is why you weren’t doing shots.” You turned in his arms. “I did one.”
“You nearly died.” “I recovered.” “You’re still holding Changbin.You could have held me.” You looked down to find your hand still wrapped around Changbin’s bicep and slowly released him. “Come back when you’ve got biceps, bud.”
Seungmin stared at you for a beat before catching you around the waist and pulling you firmly against his chest. “You seemed perfectly happy with mine earlier.” You placed a hand against his arm as though inspecting it. “They’re all right.” His grip tightened. “All right?” You smiled. “Maybe a little better than that.”
౨ৎ
Someone suggested a drinking game. Nobody later remembered who. You all ended up sitting in a loose circle around the living room with bottles, half-empty glasses and bowls of food scattered between you. Your friend sat beside your sister on the sofa. You were on the floor between Felix and Seungmin, with your back against Seungmin’s legs. His hand rested loosely at the base of your throat, occasionally brushing your hair aside.
Jisung had begun the game beside Minho. By the third round, he was mostly sitting on him. “Never have I ever,” Jeongin began, smiling in a way that immediately made Chan suspicious, “lied to get out of plans with someone in this room.” Nearly everyone drank.
Chan stared at the group. “Are you serious?” “You make too many plans,” Seungmin said. “I ask whether you want dinner.” “That’s still a plan.”
You lifted your glass. Seungmin looked down at you. “When did you lie to me?” You took a long sip. His fingers tightened gently at the back of your neck.
“When?” You smiled into your drink. “Next question.” “No. We’re staying here.” Felix laughed. “She said she was ill once because she wanted to watch a film with us.”
Seungmin stared at you. “You exposed me,” you told Felix. “I forgot it was a secret.” “You chose them over me?” Seungmin asked.
“You were working.” “You still lied.” “You would’ve sulked.” “I am sulking now.”
You twisted around to look at him. “Do you need a kiss?” Seungmin considered the offer. “Yes.” You kissed him quickly.
He kept one hand against your jaw and prevented you from moving away. “That was inadequate.” Everyone groaned. You laughed against his mouth before kissing him again, slower this time.
When you finally pulled away, Changbin threw a crisp at Seungmin’s head. “Some of us are single.” “You don’t have to watch,” Seungmin said. “You’re in the middle of the room.”
“Look somewhere else.” Hyunjin placed one hand against Changbin’s cheek and turned his face away. “There. Problem solved.” Changbin bit his palm. Hyunjin screamed.
The game continued. “Never have I ever had a crush on someone in this room,” Felix said. Silence fell. Then Jeongin drank.
Hyunjin drank. Changbin drank. Jisung lifted his glass, looked around and drank twice. Minho looked at him. “Twice?”
Jisung rested his chin on Minho’s shoulder. “I contain multitudes.” Minho took Jisung’s glass and drank from it. The room erupted. Jisung stared at him, eyes widening. “Was that your answer?”
“It was your drink.” “You have your own.” “I wanted yours.” “That is not an answer.”
Minho smiled into the rim of the glass. You turned towards Felix. He was already looking at you. Both of you burst out laughing.
“Don’t,” Minho warned. You covered your mouth with both hands. Seungmin’s chest shook behind you. Your sister remained completely still.
You could feel her watching. Felix nudged your knee. “You didn’t drink.” “I’m dating someone in the room.” “That doesn’t mean you never had a crush.”
Seungmin’s fingers slid beneath your chin and turned your face towards him. “You had better drink.” You stared at him. “Why?” “Because you had a crush on me.”
“That was never confirmed.” “You asked Chan for my number.” The group laughed. Your sister’s glass stopped halfway to her mouth.
Seungmin’s eyes flicked towards her, then back to you. Your smile softened despite the alcohol. Felix made an emotional noise. Minho pointed at him. “Don’t fucking start.”
Felix’s eyes had already begun shining. “I’m fine.” “You’re about to cry.” “I just think they’re cute.”
Seungmin felt you sniff. “No.” “I’m not doing anything.” “You’re crying.”
“Felix started it.” Felix wiped beneath one eye. “I’m happy.” “That makes it worse,” Seungmin said. You twisted and threw your arms around him.
He caught you automatically. “I love you.” Seungmin sighed, but his arms tightened around your waist. “I love you too.”
౨ৎ
The music became louder after that. So did everyone. Chan lost control of the playlist when you, Felix and Jisung began shouting over every song until he played something you liked. By then, the coffee table had disappeared beneath bottles, crushed cans and bowls of snacks nobody remembered opening. Somebody had spilt something sticky beside the sofa. Changbin had taken his shirt off for reasons nobody understood, and Hyunjin kept threatening to throw it out of the nearest window. You, Felix and Jisung dragged one another into the middle of the room.
At first, you actually danced. Felix knew what he was doing even while drunk. Jisung knew what he was doing until something distracted him, which happened every ten seconds. You possessed confidence far beyond your ability and therefore believed you looked incredible. Changbin encouraged that delusion by cheering whenever you moved. Hyunjin attempted to correct your posture once.
You told him to fuck off. He looked deeply wounded. “I’m trying to save you.” “I don’t need saving.” “You’re dancing like your limbs have separate plans.”
“They’re expressing themselves.” Felix laughed and caught your waist before you could stumble into the coffee table. Jisung pressed against your back, shouting the lyrics directly beside your ear while the three of you moved with very little coordination and enormous enthusiasm. From the sofa, Seungmin watched you. His blue shirt had come unbuttoned slightly at the throat, his hair had fallen across his forehead and his cheeks were warm from the alcohol. One hand rested around his glass while his eyes remained fixed on you.
Your sister sat only a few feet away. She attempted to speak to him twice. He answered politely, but barely looked in her direction. When you caught his gaze, you smiled and crooked one finger towards him.
Seungmin shook his head. You did it again. He lifted his drink as though that explained why he could not move. You pouted.
That worked. Seungmin put the glass down and crossed the room. Felix released your waist with a grin. Jisung remained attached to you until Minho appeared behind him, hooked an arm around his middle and pulled him backwards. Jisung laughed and twisted in his hold. “Jealous?”
Minho murmured something into his ear. Whatever it was made Jisung’s face turn bright red. Felix screamed. You screamed because Felix did.
Seungmin caught your face between both hands. “Why are you shouting?” You pointed vaguely towards Minho and Jisung. “Something happened.” “Nothing happened,” Minho said without looking at you. Jisung buried his face against his shoulder.
You grinned. “Something definitely happened.” Minho gave you a warning look. You immediately turned back to Seungmin and began adjusting his collar as though that had always been your intention. “Coward,” Seungmin murmured.
“You’re supposed to protect me.” “From the consequences of your own behaviour?” “You’re my boyfriend.” “That isn’t what that means.”
His hands slid to your waist as the song changed. You pulled him closer, and although he continued pretending not to dance, his body fell easily into the rhythm of yours. “There,” you said. “You’re dancing.” “I’m standing near you.” “You’re moving.”
“You keep dragging me around.” “You love it.” Seungmin lowered his mouth beside your ear. “I love you.” The softness of it caught beneath your ribs.
You turned and kissed him. He kissed you back without hesitation, one hand spreading across the small of your back while the party surged around you. Someone wolf-whistled. Someone else shouted at them to shut the fuck up. You suspected one of them had been Changbin. When you pulled away, Seungmin followed far enough to steal another brief kiss.
“You’re clingy,” you murmured. “You called me over.” “And you came.” “You pouted.”
“That’s all it takes?” “Unfortunately.” You smiled and kissed the edge of his jaw. His eyes closed.
“Again.” “You’re demanding.” You kissed his jaw again, and Seungmin’s grip tightened around your waist. Across the room, your sister emptied the rest of her glass.
You barely noticed. Seungmin’s attention had already wandered from dancing to pressing lazy kisses against whatever part of you happened to be closest—your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. When his lips brushed beneath your ear, you laughed and pushed lightly at his chest. “You’ve completely stopped dancing.” “I never started.”
“You came over.” “You summoned me.” “I moved one finger.” “Very controlling.”
His hand settled lower against your back, holding you close when somebody squeezed past. You reached up and fixed his collar again. “You look messy.” “You made me messy.” “That sounds suggestive.”
“It was meant to.” His smile turned slow and pleased. Before he could say anything worse, Felix collided gently with your side and caught your hand. “I need her.” Seungmin kept one arm around you. “You’ve had her for three songs.”
“The next one’s important.” “They’ve all been important,” you said. Seungmin looked at Felix. “You sound like her.” “That’s why she loves me.”
Felix pulled. Seungmin held on. You found yourself stretched between them. “Don’t make me choose.” Felix smiled. “You’ll choose me.”
Seungmin’s eyebrows lifted. “Choose carefully.” You pretended to consider it before twisting out of Seungmin’s arm, kissing him quickly and letting Felix drag you away. “Coward,” Seungmin called after you. “You still got a kiss!”
“Barely.” You laughed as Felix pulled you back into the crowd. The next hour dissolved into heat, noise and flashes of movement. Hyunjin danced as though someone might be filming him. Changbin attempted to copy him with enough force to make the floor shake.
Nearby, Minho took the glass out of Jisung’s hand and drank from it himself. Jisung watched him. “You said I couldn’t have that.” “You can’t.” “But you can?”
“Yes.” “That’s hot.” Minho looked away, but not before you saw him smile. Someone produced two microphones.
The karaoke began badly and deteriorated almost immediately. You, Felix and Jisung chose a song all three of you knew, which would have helped if any of you had agreed on when to start. Jisung came in too early. You missed half the first line. Felix attempted to hold the performance together and ended up laughing so hard that he could no longer sing. Changbin provided backing vocals without a microphone. Hyunjin acted out the lyrics from the sofa.
Chan kept trying to lower the volume and being shouted at whenever the music became even slightly quieter. By the second song, you had abandoned any pretence of performing well. You and Felix shared one microphone while Jisung used the other for increasingly dramatic ad-libs that had nothing to do with the actual song. Halfway through the chorus, you passed close enough to the sofa for Seungmin to hook his fingers around your wrist. He pulled.
You landed sideways across his lap, and the microphone struck his shoulder. “Shit. Sorry.” Seungmin took it from you before you could hit him again. “Ouch.” “I’m performing.”
“You’re screaming into expensive equipment.” He placed the microphone safely on the table. Felix shouted your name. You tried to stand, but Seungmin held your waist.
“I have responsibilities,” you told him. “You have absolutely no responsibilities.” “Felix needs me.” Felix and Jisung had abandoned the song and were arguing with Chan about whether the lyrics on the screen were wrong.
Seungmin looked towards them. “They seem busy.” “Then I need to help.” “You need to stay here for thirty seconds.” “Why?”
“I missed you.” Your expression softened before you could stop it. Seungmin smiled, knowing he had won. “You’re manipulative.”
You settled more comfortably across his thighs, one arm circling his shoulders. Seungmin rested his face against your chest and closed his eyes while your fingers moved through his hair. Across from you, your sister’s gaze remained fixed on his hand resting against your thigh. Your friend was speaking to her. Your sister nodded without listening.
By one in the morning, the party had split between the living room, the kitchen and the balcony. The music remained loud enough to vibrate through the floor. People drifted between conversations with drinks they had not poured and jackets that did not belong to them. Someone had opened a window, but the room was still hot with too many bodies and the sharp mixture of alcohol, perfume and whatever Changbin had sprayed after insisting he smelled fine. Your friend remained mostly with your sister. She laughed whenever the group became loud enough to include everyone, but she never tried to force herself into the easy physical closeness surrounding the boys.
You checked on her whenever you remembered. Each time, she assured you she was fine. Your sister always said the same. The fourth time you approached, your friend caught your wrist. “You are incredibly drunk.”
You looked down at yourself. “I’m standing.” “Barely.” Your friend laughed. Your sister did not. “She’s been throwing herself around for hours. She always gets like this when she drinks.”
There was something dismissive beneath the words. You recognised it even through the alcohol. Your friend did too. “She looks like she’s having fun,” she replied.
“I’m having an incredible time,” you announced. “I can tell.” Your sister glanced across the room towards Seungmin. “He must be exhausted.” You followed her gaze.
Seungmin was beside Chan, listening to Changbin explain something with far too much hand movement. He caught you looking almost immediately and lifted one eyebrow in silent question. You smiled. He smiled back. “Does he look exhausted?” you asked.
“He’s spent the whole night following you around.” “He likes me.” “I’m aware.” Before the conversation could sharpen, Felix appeared behind you and looped an arm around your shoulders. “There you are.”
“I’ve been here.” “You disappeared.” “I was checking on them.” Felix glanced towards your friend and sister. “Everything good?”
Your friend nodded. “We’re fine.” Your sister smiled at him. “We were talking.” “Great. I’m stealing her.” “You always steal her,” your sister said.
Felix laughed as though she had made a joke. “Everyone does.” He pulled you towards the kitchen. You looked back once. Your friend gave you a small, reassuring smile.
Your sister was already watching Seungmin again. In the kitchen, Jisung was sitting on the counter while Minho stood between his knees, holding a glass out of reach. “That’s mine,” Jisung complained. “It was yours.”
“I’m not finished.” “You said the room was spinning.” “It stopped.” “When?”
“When I closed one eye.” Felix immediately took Jisung’s side. “Give it back.” Minho looked at him. “You’re a terrible influence.” “You’re drinking too,” you pointed out.
“I can handle it.” “So can I.” Minho gave up and handed the drink to you instead. Jisung gasped. “That’s mine.”
“You’re too drunk.” “So are you.” “I’m handling it better.” Felix took the glass from you and drank before either of you could protest.
Minho laughed. It was becoming obvious that he was far drunker than he appeared. His movements were still controlled and his words remained clear, but his eyes had softened and he was smiling much too often. You stepped into the space beside him and wrapped both arms around his waist. Minho looked down. “What’s this?”
“I’m appreciating you.” “You’re crushing my shirt.” You rested your cheek against his chest. “You smell nice.” “None of you are getting another drink.”
“You ruined it,” you complained. “He ruins everything,” Jisung agreed. Minho caught Jisung’s chin and tilted his face upwards. “You can barely keep both eyes open.” “I only need one.”
“For what?” “To look at you.” Minho stared at him. You buried your face against Minho’s shoulder to hide your laughter.
Jisung looked unbearably pleased with himself. Minho’s ears turned pink. “You’re a fucking menace.” “You love me.” Seungmin entered the kitchen before anyone could comment.
He looked at Minho’s arm around you and Jisung hanging over his shoulders Then he looked at Minho. “You’ve collected them.” “I didn’t.” Seungmin approached and slid both hands onto your hips. “You keep disappearing.”
“You were talking.” “I can talk while holding you.” “That sounds inconvenient.” “I’m talented.”
Minho nodded towards you. “Take her before she asks for another shot.” You turned in Seungmin’s arms. “He’s trying to get rid of me.” “You’re attached to his shirt.” “I like him.”
“You like everyone tonight.” “I like everyone every night.” Seungmin’s expression softened. The next drinking game began in the kitchen because nobody could be bothered to move.
It was meant to be truth or drink. Within minutes, it became an excuse to ask invasive questions and shout whenever somebody refused to answer. Changbin joined first, followed by Hyunjin and Jeongin. Chan arrived last, realised what was happening and attempted to leave. You caught his wrist. “No.”
“I’m hosting.” “You’re hiding.” “I need to check the living room.” Jeongin looked towards the doorway. “It’s still there.”
Chan appealed silently to Minho for help. Minho poured him a drink. “Traitor.” “You chose to host.”
Everyone crowded around the counter and floor. You ended up sitting between Minho’s legs with your back against his chest because the chairs had disappeared beneath coats and bags. Seungmin sat in front of you, one hand wrapped loosely around your ankle. Jisung remained tucked against Minho’s side, his head on his shoulder and one leg draped over yours. Changbin pointed at you first. “Truth or drink?” “Truth.”
“What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve done because you were jealous?” Seungmin looked interested. You looked at Changbin. “I’m not jealous.” The entire room laughed.
“That wasn’t the question,” Hyunjin said. You raised your glass. “Then I’m drinking.” Seungmin’s hand tightened around your ankle. “Answer.” “You don’t get to interfere.”
Everyone shouted. “Coward,” Changbin said. “That’s the point of the game.” “The point is to expose yourself.”
“That sounds like a different game,” Jeongin said. You chucked at that The questions became worse from there. Felix refused to reveal who had received a flirtatious message he sent to the wrong person.
Changbin demanded to know whether anybody had ever hooked up somewhere they could have been caught. Half the room drank. Chan stared at everyone with a raised eyebrow. “In my home?” “Not necessarily,” Jeongin said.
“That did not reassure me.” Jisung claimed he had never done anything humiliating because he was horny. The entire group drank on his behalf. “Fuck all of you.”
Minho leant close enough to murmur something beside his ear. Jisung’s face turned red again. You twisted around. “What did he say?” “Nothing.”
Minho looked unbearably pleased. Your sister stood at the edge of the kitchen beside your friend. She watched Seungmin’s hand move slowly over your ankle. Then she watched Minho’s arm settle across your middle when you leant back against him. Perhaps she expected Seungmin to object.
Instead, he reached forward, caught your chin and tilted your face towards his. “My turn,” he said. You kissed him. The kiss was brief, but intimate enough to inspire several dramatic complaints.
When you pulled away, Seungmin’s thumb brushed once beneath your lip. Your sister looked away. The game ended when Chan realised the music in the living room was loud enough to make the glasses vibrate. Everyone returned to dancing.
By then, nobody pretended it was organised. You, Felix and Jisung shouted lyrics you barely knew with your arms around one another. Sometimes you danced. Sometimes you merely jumped during the chorus and trusted somebody to catch you. Changbin joined whenever the song was good. Hyunjin joined whenever he considered the song worthy.
Jeongin joined only to make everyone else look worse. At one point, Minho caught your hand as you passed and spun you beneath his arm. You nearly completed the movement gracefully. Then you lost your balance.
Minho caught you against his chest. Jisung caught you from the other side. The three of you laughed, tangled together. Seungmin appeared behind you and closed both hands around your waist. “You’re stealing my girlfriend,” he told Minho.
Minho shrugged. “She came willingly.” “He spun me.” “You asked,” Minho reminded you. Seungmin looked down at you. “You ask everyone for things.”
“And they give them to me.” “That’s because you’re spoilt.” “By you.” “Mostly.”
He kissed your forehead. You leant into him, suddenly overwhelmed by the warmth of the room and how much you loved everyone in it. Across the room, your friend smiled at the sight. Your sister finished another drink.
By the time you needed the bathroom, you were far beyond pleasantly drunk. You were still awake, still talking and technically capable of walking, but the room tilted whenever you turned too quickly. Seungmin noticed you heading towards the hallway and followed. You looked over your shoulder. “Where are you going?”
“With you.” “I can piss alone.” “I’m making sure you reach the bathroom.” “That’s insulting.”
Seungmin caught your waist before you walked into the wall. “Exactly.” You allowed him to guide you down the hallway, although you complained the entire way. At the bathroom door, you planted both hands against his chest. “You can’t come in.” “I wasn’t planning to.”
“You looked like you were.” “I was opening the door.” Seungmin smiled and kissed your forehead. “I’ll be here.” “Why?”
“Because you’ll forget where the living room is.” “It’s one hallway.” “And yet.” You narrowed your eyes and disappeared into the bathroom.
When you came back out, your sister was standing in front of him. One hand rested against the wall beside his shoulder. Seungmin was leaning away. “You could come upstairs with me,” she said.
He blinked at her. “Why?” You stopped in the doorway. Even through the alcohol, laughter rose immediately in your chest. Your sister looked at him as though he were deliberately being stupid. “You know why.”
“I genuinely don’t.” She moved closer, forcing Seungmin’s back against the wall. “We could have sex.” For one long second, Seungmin simply stared at her.
Then his gaze found yours over her shoulder. You covered your mouth. The expression on his face made it impossible not to laugh. His eyes widened slightly, one corner of his mouth twitching as though he could not decide whether to be horrified or offended. Your sister followed his gaze and found you standing there.
Her face hardened. “Oh, please. Don’t act like it’s ridiculous.” That made you laugh harder. “I’m sorry. His face.” “You’re not helping,” Seungmin said.
“You asked why.” “It was a reasonable question.” “She invited you upstairs.” “She could’ve needed something.”
“At one in the morning?” “I didn’t know what she meant.” “You did,” your sister snapped. Seungmin looked back at her. “Apparently not.”
She folded her arms. “You haven’t even considered it.” “No.” “Why?” He stared at her.
Then he gave one short, humourless laugh. “Because I don’t want to.” “You don’t know that.” “I do.” “You’ve never given me a chance.”
“I’m not required to.” Your laughter faded. Your sister stepped closer and reached for his chest. Seungmin caught her wrist before she could touch him.
“Stop.” The word was calm. Firm. He moved her hand away and released it.
Humiliation sharpened your sister’s expression as she turned towards you. “You think this is funny because you assume he’d never choose me.” “I don’t assume it.” “You should stop speaking for him.” “I’m standing right here,” Seungmin said.
She ignored him. “You’ve always done this. You get something and act smug because you know somebody else deserves it more.” The alcohol inside you turned suddenly heavy. You steadied yourself against the bathroom door. “Somebody else?” “You know what I mean.”
“No. Say it properly.” Her eyes travelled over you. Your clothes had shifted from dancing. Your lipstick was smudged. Your hair was a mess and your balance remained questionable. You had never felt happier.
“Look at you,” she said. “You’re completely wasted. He’s spent all night following you around while you throw yourself over every man in the room.” Seungmin’s expression hardened. You laughed softly. “Is that what this is about?” “I’m saying he could do better.”
“With you?” “Yes.” The certainty would have been impressive if it were not so pathetic. Your smile disappeared.
Your sister noticed and pushed harder. “I’m prettier. I know how to behave. I don’t need eight men constantly touching me and telling me how special I am.” “Nobody is taking care of me.” “You can barely stand.”
“I’m drunk at a party.” “You’ve been climbing into their laps and letting them put their hands all over you. It’s embarrassing.” Seungmin stepped away from the wall and moved to your side. His hand settled securely at the back of your waist.
Your sister watched it. “She hasn’t embarrassed me once,” he said. “She’s been all over Minho. Felix practically had his hands under her clothes earlier.” “So?”
Your sister blinked. Seungmin’s thumb moved slowly against your side. “She loves them,” he said. “They love her. I know exactly where I stand.” “You should have more self-respect.”
His eyebrows rose. “You asked me to cheat on her beside a bathroom.” “You’ve spent the whole night trying to fuck my boyfriend,” you said, “and somehow I’m the slut?” Your sister glared at you. Seungmin continued before she could answer. “Don’t talk to either of us about self-respect.”
“You only say that because she’s standing here.” “I rejected you when she wasn’t.” “You knew she’d find out.” “I knew because I was going to tell her.”
“Why?” “Because she’s my girlfriend.” Your sister shook her head. “You don’t have to keep settling because she got to you first.” Seungmin went still.
There it was. The belief beneath every comparison and every attempt. You had simply reached him first. Had she met him earlier, dressed better, tried harder or pushed for long enough, he would eventually recognise that he had chosen the wrong sister.
Seungmin’s arm tightened around you. “I noticed her,” he said. Your sister scoffed. “You hadn’t met me.” “I’ve met you now.”
The hallway became very quiet. Music still thudded beyond it. Someone laughed in the living room. Your friend called your sister’s name once, distant and uncertain. Seungmin looked directly at her. “And I still choose her.”
Your sister’s face changed. For a moment, she appeared almost sober. Then the anger returned. “She isn’t better than me.”
“This isn’t about who’s better.” “It always is.” “No,” you said quietly. “It’s always been that way to you.” She looked at you.
You could feel Seungmin watching your face. At first, it had been funny. Her unnecessary outfits. Her fake excuses. The way she interpreted Seungmin’s basic manners as secret attraction. Even now, the idea that he might accept remained ridiculous.
But the joke had always required you to ignore the part where your sister could not want something without explaining why you deserved it less. “You can want him,” you said. “I don’t care. It’s humiliating for you, but it doesn’t threaten me.” Her mouth twisted. “What pisses me off is that you can’t admit you want him without telling him I’m ugly, exhausting, childish or not good enough. You don’t flirt with him. You campaign against me.”
“I’ve never called you ugly.” “You keep telling everyone you’re prettier.” “I am.” Seungmin made a disbelieving sound.
You glanced at him. “What?” “Nothing. I’m trying very hard to remain polite.” Your sister folded her arms. “See? You’ve turned him against me.”
“I didn’t have to. You did that by ignoring him every time he said no.” The words landed. Your sister looked at Seungmin. His expression did not soften.
“I thought you were being loyal,” she said. “I was being clear.” “You were trying not to hurt her.” “I was trying not to humiliate you.”
Her cheeks flushed. Seungmin’s voice lowered. “You’ve made that impossible.” Your friend appeared at the far end of the hallway. She looked between the three of you, taking in your sister’s expression and Seungmin’s arm around your waist. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” your sister said immediately. You laughed tiredly. “She asked Seungmin to have sex with her.” Your friend’s eyes widened. “You didn’t have to say it like that,” your sister snapped.
“How should I say it?” “She’s drunk,” your friend said carefully. “So am I.” “I know.”
Your friend approached and touched your sister’s arm. “Come and sit down.” Your sister pulled away. “Everyone’s acting like I’ve done something terrible.” “You propositioned my boyfriend after he repeatedly told you he wasn’t interested.” “You don’t own him.”
“No,” you said. “I don’t.” That stopped her. You rested more heavily against Seungmin’s side but kept your eyes on her. “He’s a person. He said no. That should have mattered even if I didn’t exist.”
Your friend looked at your sister. “She’s right.” Betrayal flashed across your sister’s face. “You’re supposed to be here with me.” “I’m here because she invited me.” The answer was gentle but firm.
Your sister looked between you. Then she laughed bitterly. “Fine. Everyone thinks I’m pathetic.” Nobody answered. That seemed to hurt more than any denial would have.
Your friend held out her hand. “Come on.” After a moment, your sister accepted it. She allowed herself to be led back towards the living room without looking at either of you again. You remained in the hallway.
Seungmin rubbed one hand slowly over your back. You watched them disappear. Then you looked at him. “You really asked why.” His mouth dropped open.
The laughter returned before you could stop it. Seungmin stared at you. “You’re impossible.” “Your face was so confused.” “She was vague.”
“She had you against a wall.” “She said upstairs.” “At one in the morning.” “That could mean anything.”
“Name one other thing.” Seungmin opened his mouth. Nothing came out. You waited.
His expression grew increasingly offended. “Exactly.” He caught your waist in both hands and pulled you closer. “You’re very annoying.” “You love me.”
“I’m reconsidering.” “No, you aren’t.” “No,” he admitted. Your smile softened.
The alcohol made it difficult to hold on to one emotion for long. Amusement blurred into exhaustion, which blurred into the ache your sister’s words had left behind. Seungmin noticed. He always did. “Hey.”
You looked at him. His expression had gentled, eyes warm despite the alcohol. “Are you okay?” “I’m extremely drunk.” “I know.”
“She’s a bitch.” “She is.” “I can’t believe she said I throw myself over everyone.” “You do,” Seungmin said, completely unbothered. “Luckily, everyone seems very happy to catch you.”
“With all of you.” “I know.” His hand settled more firmly at your waist. “I’ve never complained.” “And you don’t care?” Seungmin looked genuinely confused. “Why would I?”
You shrugged. “Because she said—” “I don’t care what she said.” The answer came quickly enough to interrupt you. Seungmin lifted your hand and kissed your knuckles.
“I know you,” he said. “I know them. I know what all of this is.” His free hand gestured towards the living room, where Felix was shouting the chorus to another song while Minho told somebody to turn the music down without making any effort to do it himself. “You’re my girlfriend,” Seungmin continued. “That doesn’t mean you stop belonging with them too.” Something warm tightened in your chest.
“That was disgustingly sweet.” You kissed him. His hand slid to the back of your neck, keeping you close as the kiss deepened. Nothing frantic. Nothing performed for anybody else. Just familiar affection in a dim hallway while the party continued metres away.
When you pulled back, Seungmin followed for one more kiss. Then another. “You’re doing too many,” you murmured. “I’ve lost count.”
“You always say that.” You laughed and rested your forehead against his. “There she is,” he murmured. Footsteps sounded behind you.
Felix appeared first, followed by Jisung and Minho. Felix’s expression changed when he saw your face. “Are you okay?” You nodded. Jisung looked unusually serious. “Your friend said something happened.”
“My sister asked Seungmin to sleep with her.” Jisung stared at Seungmin. Then at you. Then back at Seungmin.
“Why?” You burst out laughing. Seungmin pointed at him. “See? Reasonable question.” “That isn’t what I meant,” Jisung said quickly. “Why would she think you’d say yes?”
“That sounded better after clarification.” Minho stepped closer and touched the side of your face. “Are you actually all right?” You leant into his palm. “Mostly.” “Mostly isn’t yes.”
“She was being a bitch.” “I gathered.” From the living room, Changbin shouted, “If you lot are done fondling each other, we’re doing another round.” Chan shouted back that nobody was doing another fucking shot.
Jeongin appeared in the hallway holding four. The party carried on around you.
⟢ ┆ stray kids x reader. ot8. established relationship.
⟢ author’s note: so i had this prompt in my list for the longest time and now finally i was hit with enough inspiration to write it for all eight of them lol. i have no idea if this qualifies as comfort or slight angst or what, but i hope you guys enjoy and as always i would love to read your thoughts on it<3
summary: part two of all done: boss. jeongin is a total dipshit. but you like him, like the others too, after all. and if you like them, shouldn’t you have sex with them? (jeongin, changbin, hyunjin getting sum in this part)
warnings: creepy and asshole skz, absolutely unrealistic, cursing, power imbalance, objectification of reader, sexism, little talks of religion and porn addiction, sexual content(oral(f and m receiving), little anal play(f receiving), handjob(m receiving), deepthroating, gagging, cum eating, edging(m receiving), protected p in v, making out, heavy sexual tension), multiple sex scenes
word count: 26k
you know what you are at this point.
a slut.
okay, wow, chill. you’re not a bad slut. you’re doing it for a good cause. these eight overworked men need an outlet, and you’re the only one they trust enough to give it to them without turning it into the end of their careers. soooo slut in the good way. caretaker with benefits. professional throat goat. whatever.
so, rightfully, the eight boys started to develop some serious kind of… fixation on you.
channie and hyunjin are first place here, obviously. chan more, so hyunjin is a second place, maybe. but both of them because they got you taken away from them when they needed more, you took yourself away from them.
but chan remembers how you cried out when he pulled your ass open. and hyunjin… has just been extra pissy. little immature brat, that’s what he is.
third is felix. you see, felix has been into porn for years. like we can even say a light addiction. he’s also chronically online as fuck. he’s seen everything, a good example is the ankha zone video back in the day(jerked off to it more than once), hardcore stuff, soft stuff, he’s been exposed to most of it, has seen every category, every fetish, every little scenario you can imagine. his brain is working dumb from years of dopamine highs.
and now, now he has a real, living, breathing, pretty workplace crush who apparently sucks dick great.
not a good combination.
psychologically, especially. porn addiction already desensitizes the reward system, normal sex doesn’t hit the same anymore. but then you show up, sweet, helpful, competent, and suddenly the fantasy comes into reality. his brain starts mashing the two together. you handing him water becomes “what if she dropped to her knees right here?” you bending over to pick something up becomes “what if i grabbed her hips and…” he’s stuck in this loop where every innocent interaction gets filtered through thousands of hours of porn. it’s making him stupid. making him horny. dumb. a boy.
he’s got a weird fixation on staff hoodies now because of you. keeps imagining you on your knees in the hoodie you own, you riding him while still wearing it, you letting him cum on your face after a long day and some getting on the hoodie.
you do catch the fact that he’s kind of different because of this, different around and about human bodies, when someone mentions his religion, but you just got to the conclusion of him being a little on the spectrum about interaction maybe or he got bad influence from somewhere. no idea that it’s about addiction, that it’s about porn.
during one long break he’s sitting in the corner scrolling on his phone, his headphone on pretty head, but when you walk past he looks up. his eyes go over your body, undressing you with them. there’s this not quite here look in his eyes for a tiny bit before he blinks it away and gives you that usual beautiful smile that just charms everyone when he sees that you came to interact with him.
you hand him something he asked for earlier. you get a “thanks, y/n.” you notice the way his hand tightens on his phone. don’t know though that it’s because he’s fighting the urge to palm himself right there.
porn brain + real girl he wants = a fucking mindfuck for such a guy like him. his brain does not rest on the topic, it’s all you on your knees, you bent over, you taking multiple of them(such a favorite of his), all these he’s conditioned himself to crave. but now with you. all of these next to the brutal stress, of course.
the rest of them aren’t much better, they’re just less online about it. they’re all just boys.
fourth would be jeongin. he heard you and chan that night, after all. he looks up at chan too, at hyunjin. plus you’re hot. mix this together and you get jeongin wanting some of you like now. his dumb little brain needs it, and that dumb little brain controls the body, which just feels, works crazy because of you now.
then changbin, maybe. first he thought about himself as not brave enough for this whole thing, but then… but then fuck’s sake, he’s a grown ass man. a grown ass man with money, talent, a career, brutal sized arms, and what genuinely gets every woman off their feet, a fucking nice car. so now with that confidence he sometimes gains, his mind is easier to set on the thought of you. now he’s thinking about you aaaaaall day, such a babe, like has his elbow on the table and his pretty chin in his hand zoning out typa thinking about you all day.(chan is shouting at him to pay attention)
han can try and maybe relieve that tension in himself with being physical. that’s his best solution for this. keeps hugging you longer, gives you goodmorning and bye y/n hugs, pressing his body on yours, smelling your hair. like specifically smelling your hair, the creep. he feels like you’re the cure to his stress(since you helped the others) and now he wants to actually get to it. if you made it better for chan(chan did tell the boys lots about it, they’re really honest with each other) and hyunjin(same here, these boys overshare when not waiting until their roommate is away to get his dick sucked by the girl that said roommate also wants, khm hyunjin khm). he especially really needs the release you can give them, he’s not feeling particularly well these days, that only you can give them.
seungmin has jacked it to you double digits times now, acts like nothing’s up the next day. he’s actually good at it. well, all of them are, they were trained to hide themselves, to hide the realness. so he hides his aching, obsessive sexual want towards you, like nothing is up with him, like him and felix are not talking basically only about you when they’re home. like yeah everything’s fine he’s not obsessed with the idea of you getting him off, nooo, pfft.
minho’s the last on this list but only because he’s the most intelligent of them. so, like, he still needs you, bad, but he’s more of a man, doesn’t roll around in his bed and giggle at home like some(han, felix, changbin) do about you, his little fixation is actually the most active, most torturing when you’re actually in front of him. but then, it’s bad.
they’re all just boys at the end of the day. we already talked about this in the first part, biology. testosterone. dopamine. vasopressin. evolution. what you have signals good mate material. same drill we’re already over, great ass good for birthing, soft tits good for feeding, warm mouth that doesn’t complain(any man’s dream), bla bla bla. add the insane pressure they live under, no privacy, constant performance, zero release, it’s only natural, normal, that one(1) good blowjob turns into this whole blow up in their little circle.
and you have the knowledge of exactly how chan felt grinding against your soaked pussy and how hyunjin moaned when he came down your throat. it’s almost an equal power situation, they have power over you, and you also have power over them, both in different ways. they’re technically more powerful than you, but if you wanted to seduce(which you never intended, they became attracted on their own), you’d have them wrapped around your pinky in a move. well, you already kinda have them like that, but there’s a significant difference between you having intention to do this and not.
they can act mature and calm all day, they can be flawless for the cameras, but the second their brains register this girl lets us cum, they’re just losers, it’s years of suppressed sexual frustration and sudden access to a willing mouth. like sudden access. if this happened a little slower, maybe they would have themselves together a little better, maybe they would be more cool headed. but they’re not, because this happened fast, and that also turns them so on.
you’re in the middle of eating in your bed at 10:47pm when your phone buzzes. it’s jeongin. you just have him saved as in. almost was boss in, but you didn’t feel that funny that day.
in: hey y/n
in: sorry for texting so late
in: can u help me with something? it’s about banking stuff and transferring money. u always handle everything so well so i thought maybe u could explain it to me? i’m kinda lost lol
you stare at the message, food pouring out of your mouth, basically. it’s a lame excuse and you both know it.
you: sure i’ll come over quick.
same night, later now, you’re standing outside jeongin and chan’s dorm again. hm, the great memories here.
it’ll be quick. professional. just like the other times. help the boy with his “banking stuff” and go home.
jeongin opens the door looking nervous as fuck. he’s in a black hoodie and gray sweatpants, not because he’s calm like that, it’s because he knows that women find it hot, he wants to look good, he’s this simple with technique, hair messy. he’d been running his hands through it.
“thanks for coming.” he mumbles, not meeting your eyes at first, stepping aside quickly, eyes more on your body now that you’re dressed more casually. looks good on you. “sorry it’s so late.”
“hm, it’s fine.”
“uh, chan’s not home. yet. he’s working late.”
you know. he sent you home himself.
it’s tidier now than last time. you don’t know which of them’s hand was in it but whatever, you kind of know it’s because of you. so the place will look good in your eyes.
you walk in, he closes the door behind you. it’s new, that it’s just you and jeongin. you never had this place like that yet.
he gives an awkward little “uh” sound, gestures with one hand with the other pin straight next to him, then walks towards his room so you’ll follow him. you do.
in there he tells you to “uh, sit down.” waving towards his bed. okay.
you sit on the edge of it, looking up at him. he stays standing for a second, shifting on his feet, then he sits down next to you, hands clasped in his lap.
“so… about the banking thing.” you start gently.
“i lied.”
“hm?”
he rubs the back of his neck, typical boy thing to do. “i… i heard you. with chan.”
oh.
that’s immediately different.
your stomach does a little flip. this is just an apartment, not a castle. of course. you’d completely forgotten how easily sound travels in these places.
“i woke up to get water and… i heard you. both of you.” he needs to get it out before he dies of shame. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to listen. the walls are so thin and i… i couldn’t stop listening. i don’t know. yeah. sorry. i don’t know.”
you sit there for a second, processing. then you do what you do best, you turn into the nice one. the caretaker. reach over and gently put your hand on his knee. “hey… it’s okay. really. did it upset you? be honest.”
he shakes his head. “no. not upset. just… surprised. fuck, i’m sorry. this is so weird. you probably think i’m a creep. i’m sorry.”
you squeeze his knee gently, smiling a little. “i don’t think you’re a creep. it’s normal to feel a lot of things about that. are you mad at chan? or at me?”
“not mad at all.” he says quickly, looking at you, eyes wide. well, wide compared to how his eyes usually are. “i just… i don’t know. he didn’t tell us about that. he told us about when you… first… did it for him, but not about this.” he moans, covers his face with both hands. “god i sound so stupid right now.”
he’s so fucking hot. you remember how good he looked that one night in just boxers, little sleepy, way more casual than how he is now.
you rub his knee soothingly. “you don’t sound stupid. it’s okay. really. if you’re curious about what happened, then almost nothing more than the… ‘first’ time he told you guys about.” you still didn’t simply forget that he told them. fucker. “there was… shit, this is weird to say, little more physicality, but no… actual sex if you’re thinking that. calm down.”
he peeks at you through his fingers, so red. “you’re so nice. you always are. that’s part of the… problem.” talking bout some problem, he really just can’t get it out what he wants to say, that’s why he talks so… cringe would be the right word? no, well it doesn’t feel like that at the moment, but he’s gonna be wanting to sink into the ground from embarrassment the next day though.
“what’s the other part?” but you’re good at playing along, at moving at the same level they are when it’s needed. like you get second hand embarrassment from felix so many times but still have the chemistry with him.
he lowers his hands slowly, biting his bottom lip, muttering “that i really want what chan got. sorry.”
now he looks embarrassed and relieved to have said it out loud. his eyes keep going to your mouth, then away, he can’t help it.
good fucking thing you shaved this morning. you’d done it in the shower with this exact possibility in the back of your mind. so, not because you’re a hopeless slut, but because you’re selfaware enough to know that with this situation going on between the nine of you, at least one more was probably going to try his luck soon. so you were practical. responsible, even.
“if you want, i can help you too. that’s okay.”
“yeah?”
“yeah. and, y’know, this isn’t emotional. none of this is an emotional thing, i’m just… helping. same as with chan. same as with hyunjin. i don’t mind. that’s it.”
he nods quickly, he’s gorgeous. that’s the right word for this man, gorgeous. “yeah. yeah, i get it. just helping. i’m okay with that. really. yeah. yeah. yeah.”
“so like, don’t overthink. this is as casual as me giving you guys water. as casual as a cat on the street. as a shirt, as a recording, as a condom, as a—“
you’re saying more, mature, but he’s not listening anymore. he stopped when you said condom, did he hear that right? condom? thinking she’s already thinking that far?
“o-oh! yeah— condom, right— fuck, okay—” he fumbles across the bed, like a fucking baby deer on ice the fucking loser, nearly falling off as he yanks open his bedside drawer. digs through it fast, loud, and finally yanks out a foil packet. he throws it onto the bed, then practically jumps back into his original spot, chest heaving.
there we go. the condom is out in the open.
“relax, innie.” you chuckle. you’re breathtaking. you’re such a great woman, fuck.
he nods again. then, after a few seconds of nervous silence “um… eh, uh, can i… eat you out first?”
oh?
(of course he wants to. selfish at his core. he doesn’t just want to make you feel good, he wants to bury his face in your pussy, taste it, smell it, lick it. the only way it’s about your pleasure is his ego being built by making a woman feel good.)
“yeah, okay.”
his pretty mouth drops. he closes it. swallows. “uh… can i… move you? is that fine?” he asks. “i promise i’ll be gentle.”
you nod.
he gets up on his knees, hands shaky. he gently takes your waist and helps guide you further onto the bed.
“um… can you get on your knees for me? please?”
you do. you move onto all fours.
he makes a little “nhh” sound behind you. likes this, clearly. then he puts a hand on your upper back and gently pushes your chest down onto the mattress, leaving your ass up in the air. his touch is awkward. you’re his assistant, for fuck’s sake.
“like… like this? is this comfortable?” he asks.
“perfect.”
fuck his fucking life fucking now. fucking hell he’s horny.
his sheets smell like him and boy. you can feel him kneeling behind you, hands still on you.
“you look really pretty like this.” he whispers. “can i…?”
you answer with a “mhm” and by arching your back a little more, pushing your ass toward him.
“okay… okay.” he whispers, mostly to himself.
and then his hands slide up to pull your pants down. his hands are shaking. he pulls your pants down slowly, dragging them over the curve of your ass. what a pretty ass. when he gets them to your thighs he pauses, just staring. your panties look good on you. then he keeps going, tugging them all the way off your legs, reaching back up to get your panties too, now pulling the two down together. he takes both off completely. not for your comfort. definitely not. he wants them gone completely so nothing is in his way, so he can look at all of you without anything blocking his view. he wants full access. it’s for his ego, the satisfaction of having you bare and exposed for him, someone lower than him socially, financially, physically, nothing in the way.
once your lower half is completely naked, he’s just staring directly at your pussy. thinks it’s beautiful. suits you. so pretty, your soft folds, your clit peeking out, your inviting little asshole just above it all, cherry on top really.
“you’re so pretty.” he mumbles. thanks, mr this is all professional, we appreciate your love for women’s bodies here. his hands grab your asscheeks and gently spread you open wider so he can get an even better look.
“hm. thanks.” you whisper.
he’s shaking, really is. both because this is new, this is hot, and also because he’s so turned on. you can feel his breath, hot, uneven because he’s so full of nerves, on your exposed pussy.
he leans in slowly, and presses the softest little kiss on your folds.
then gives you a lick to start off with, flattening that breathtaking tongue, dragging from your clit all the way up, parting your folds.
he moans loudly into you. then he does it again, licks up again. and again. longer, wetter, dragging his tongue through every inch of your pussy. of his little assistant’s pussy.
he pushes his face in deeper, nose pressed into your entrance, shaking his head from side to side so his tongue rubs messily all over your clit and folds. sounds like pure sex, stomach flipping, slurping, moaning, the slick noise of his tongue lapping at you.
you feel good, really good, but you know this isn’t about making you cum. this is all for him. every moan, every lick is him stroking his own ego. he’s eating your pussy because he wants to. because he feels good in the fact that he has the girl who sucked off chan and hyunjin bent over on his bed with her pussy in his face.
he settles on his flawless flat little stomach on the bed. his hands spread your ass wider and he buries his face deeper, smearing your juices all over his mouth, nose, and chin.
he drags his tongue higher, experimentally licking over your asshole. it’s clumsy, curious, a little shy, but he likes it so he does it again, slower, circling the rim with the tip of his tongue while his hands keep your ass spread wide open for him.
but he goes back to your pussy. he’s obsessed with it. it’s pretty, cute, maybe even perfect, in his opinion. he pushes his tongue inside your entrance, fucking it in and out, feeling your walls flutter around him. fuck yes. pornographic. starts licking with licks that cover your entire cunt. long ones from clit to hole, smaller flicks right into your entrance, gentle sucks on your folds, lightly sucking on your asshole when he’s there.
but he’s not there much. he’s aaaall up in your vag, always going back there, now you can feel his nose bumping into your asshole as he buries his face deeper, tongue going back inside you, trying to reach as far as possible.
“mmh— good, good…” he mumbles into your pussy, voice muffled. he starts shaking his face in it again, almost aggressive, tongue all up in you, sucking you in.
he grabs your hips better and pulls you back onto his face, literally sitting you on him while he lies on his stomach a little more, arches his neck back better.
now your pussy is completely smothering his mouth. tongue fucking in and out of it, nose rubbing your little asshole as he makes you ride his face. has jeongin ever been happier?
his eyes actually roll back in pleasure. his chin keeps brushing your clit from below, giving you these random little almost nothing sparks of pleasure while his tongue works inside you. everytime he pushes his flawless tongue as deep as it can go, his nose pokes firmer into your asshole and he lets out these little blissful whimpers, manly moans.
he’s so into it. not focused on your pleasure beyond how it feeds his own ego.
his arms tighten around your thighs, pulling you even harder on his mouth. he’s practically suffocating himself in your pussy and loves it. so wet sounds fill the room as he laps and sucks and tonguefucks you, just… without any real rhythm.
and even though it feels really fucking good, you know that you’re not even close to cumming. because you know the truth too, that this isn’t for you. this is all for him. this is jeongin getting his fix.
he’s getting exactly what he wants. selfish.
he’s in heaven though. you feel him smiling into your cunt as he’s currently trying to probably, what, suck everything out of it?
mr wait until marriage is currently telling you “mmph— fuck— mmh—” as his pretty little mouth goes down to suck on your clit, his nose pressing straight into the source of your wetness now. laps at it, drinks at it, then goes back into your entrance to eat at that too.
he feels so good. never better. really. he’s eating the same pussy chan and hyunjin got. well, not really, innie, they didn’t get any actual pussy, but that’s not what he thinks about now. he thinks he’s as good as his hyungs now.
even though he’s even better, kinda. like, you wouldn’t let hyunjin do this. chan, hm, maybe, but you stopped that even at just grinding. well, that was because feelings and tension were clearly getting involved, but whatever. not the point. maknae gets pussy. others don’t.
maknae fucks that pussy with his tongue, that perfect muscle of his curling up, trying to scoop out everything he can get. then he pulls back, spits on your pussy (messy and loud), and pushes his face back in, sucking on your folds, licking up and over your clit, then moving up again to shove his tongue back into you. his hands spread your ass again, he lost grip. hurts. feels nice too. his nose keeps rubbing on your asshole, he seems to love that too, the way it twitches in his face.
it’s intimate. he doesn’t process it as that. he just processes it as pussy. you process it as something you get paid for. win win.
he pulls his tongue out of your hole and drags it up sensually, circling your asshole again. this time he’s less shy about it. he licks over the tight little muscle slowly, then presses the point of his tongue in it. he sucks gently on it too. that makes your whole body jolt.
makes you moan.
oh?
feels good. he’s doing great.
he almost cums from your moan then goes back to your pussy, he can’t stay away for long anyway. his tongue fucks back into your entrance, exploring that again, your walls, chin on your clit, his nose in your asshole. it’s overwhelming for both sides.
then his fingers join the party. he slides one finger into your pussy, pushing it in deep immediately(so he doesn’t gently work it in or anything, it just slips inside) while he pulls away to watch it. he moans at how warm and wet you are inside, loves it.
he adds a second finger quickly, pumping them in and out. no rhythm. not much pleasure from it, for you. plenty for him, for his little soul. just thrusting them in and out.
he was a horrible student, you can tell. back in sex ed he probably stared at the ceiling the whole time. everything he knows about eating pussy came from other guys bragging in the dorm, from porn.
he remembers the clit thing suddenly, women like that, right?
“oh shit— right.” he mumbles, more to himself than you.
his tongue finally moves down and finds your clit with an actual purpose now(right now he wants to feel like he’s as good as chan and hyunjin. he wants to prove he can make you feel good too, even if it’s mostly for himself). at least he hopes he does, he’s in the right place, right? (he is.) he sucks on it gently at first, then harder, why didn’t he think of this when he was there before, smiles on it when you moan. he likes to hear that. his fingers keep fucking into you during, curling awkwardly, searching for something he’s not even sure how to find.
but god, he really wants this. he wants to devour you. currently humping the bed under himself too.
having you bent over on his bed, face down, ass up, pussy dripping on his tongue while he fingers you, it makes his head spin. makes him crazy. confident. wild. he feels like he finally caught up to his hyungs. like he’s one of the big boys now.
he pulls his fingers out to spread your ass again with both hands, staring at your holes, then spits on your asshole and licks it again, pushes the tip of his tongue inside again, moaning into you. would die for this taste.
then he pulls away with one last little kiss, goes back to your pussy, sucking your clit again, taking his hands off your perfect little ass and pushing three fingers inside your vag this time, giving little “uhhn” sounds to your clit.
he pulls his fingers out just so he can shake his face between your legs again, smearing your wetness all over his mouth, nose, and chin. he’s loud with his breathing, the little noises.
he has a beautiful voice.
his tongue pushes back inside your hole, fucking you. his eyes roll back in pure bliss at the smell of you, your little asshole(made for him, in his humble opinion) right on his nose. this position is making him feel like nothing else.
each sound you make makes him more confident in himself, every gasp, every whimper, every shaky breath. this is good for his mental health, actually. he’s been through a lot, has been extra stressed nowadays too. this is just perfect now.
he pulls back, gasping for air, face shiny and flushed, lips swollen. his eyes are glassy, pupils so big as he stares at your dripping pussy. he’s in a trance. then dives back in. like so deep that you can feel his teeth, the way his jaw works. you can feel his slurping, feel the “mmh— mmh—” noises he gives into you. just takes from you, that’s what he’s doing.
he’s so fucking happy right now. he’s so proud of himself it’s pathetic.
but you’re getting tired of this shit.
it feels good, sure. his tongue is warm and feels funny and he’s hitting some nice spots by pure accident. but you know exactly that jeongin is using your pussy to jerk off his mental health. he’s just living out his fantasy of being “one of the guys.”
so you put on your best performance, which you’re good at, and start gasping loudly, thighs shaking around his head. your hand flies back, into his hair, and you tug gently, pulling his face away from your dripping cunt.
“woah— wait, innie, too much.” you moan breathlessly, making it sound like he just rocked your entire world. “fuck, you’re… you’re really good at that.”
he pulls back, panting hard, face shiny from nose to chin with your juices. his little lips swollen and red and open. he looks dazed. hit.
you sit up a little, turning your head to look back at him. “you’re gonna make me real tired if you keep going like that…” you lie sweetly, a little shaky like you’re overwhelmed. you’re not. “but what about you, hm? don’t you want to feel good too?”
his breath hitches. his eyebrows go up, a little cute, hopeless. a little fucker is what he is, oh you’d just kick him in the head now if it wasn’t about your payment.
“how about you lay on your back properly, and we finally get to that? let me take care of you.”
he’s so easy. he flips onto his back immediately, dear god he’s actually fucking hilarious, almost rolling off the bed in his hurry.
“y-yeah… okay.” he breathes, voice cracking with excitement. you’re seconds away from slapping your tummy laughing. “if… if you want to. you don’t have to—”
you push his head back down onto the pillow. smile charmingly at him. “shh. let me help you, boss.”
oh that name specifically gets him bucking his hips up once into the air.
you’re more than ready to move this along. “sit up for me maybe, that’ll feel better.” you murmur softly.
he whines, the pathetic asshole, scrambling up into a sitting position against the headboard, legs spread. this hoodie looks good on him with the sleeves pushed up. you just noticed.
you reach forward and hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants. the second you start tugging, jeongin lifts his hips, watching it with you how his cock springs free immediately, slapping up on his stomach. oh he’s that hard. basically ready to bust.
fuck, he’s prettily shaven too. just like hyunjin, smooth as a fucking pornstar. not a single hair around the base or on his balls. so he prepared for this too. it was worth it, he has a pretty dick. basically like chan’s just not as long(still more than enough to be impressive, especially on a guy like him, the airhead), beautiful and manly, makes you suddenly care about this whole thing a lot more. his balls are perfect too, like perfect, the little guys especially suit him, two nice, full, separate little balls underneath, which you can clearly see and appreciate individually. lucky boy.
you just can’t help the small huff that escapes you. it’s actually an amused sound, and you’re rarely amused. amused is a big word for you.
of course he’s pretty down here too.
just like hyunjin. pretty face, decent dick, and zero fucking brains between the ears. consistent, it is. the prettier they are, the dumber they get. it’s only natural, the universe giving with both hands is nearly impossible.
except when it comes to you. you’re perfect, of course. insert angel emoji that’s incredibly cringe to write down but fits here perfectly.
so basically him and hyunjin are the same. jeongin’s just the less intense and not that much of a brat version.
his cock twitches under your gaze, rock hard, he’s embarrassed by how obvious it is.
you reach out and wrap your hand around him gently, giving one slow stroke just for now.
he hisses through his teeth, thrusting up into your fist.
“mm, where did the condoms go?” you mumble sweetly, stroking him, looking around. you really mean it just playfully, you don’t actually plan on fucking hi—
the speed at which he moves actually embarasses hyunjin’s dancing skills. like he fucking lunges to the side, cock bouncing as he does, and snatches the condom packet from where he threw it earlier. wow, seems to know it perfectly where it was too. his hands are shaking so badly he almost drops it twice while trying to tear it open. instead rips it open with his teeth like an animal, so unsafe jeongin don’t do that ever again that’s irresponsible and dangerous to both parties, then quickly rolls it down his cock, so unbelievably clumsy.
even that looks hot on him.
when not fucking hilarious. he’s fucking hilarious.
the way his abdomen muscles flex when he sits up a little, the way his lower arm muscles tense as he smooths the condom down his pretty manly shaft, the way his pretty face is concentrated, twisting up as he bites on his lip while looking down, it’s so attractive. dumb boys with pretty bodies are like the top ten inventions on the world.
once the condom’s on, jeongin leans back against the headboard again, so beautiful chest rising and falling fast under that hoodie, the fact how built his chest is, how wide it seems under the clothes, is also attractive because it shows you he worked for that, fucking dumbass doing one smart thing at least, then looks at you with those big, desperate, boyish eyes.
his cock stands hard and wrapped, begging for your attention. soon, mini jeongin, soon. though the pretty balls under it makes you want to hurry up.
same guy you saw once only in his underwear. when you were with his roommate. who you also had some kind of sex with, also had naked like this, also had. but he was barefoot and jeongin still has his fuckass white socks on. whatever.
point is, now you want this too. not as desperately as he does, but sure, you’re down.
he whines softly, so beautiful, an angelic little sound even(hyunjin sounded even better), takes you off your feet almost, and reaches up with shaky fingers to tug gently at the collar of your shirt.
“please…” he whispers, cheeks so red. obviously hurt to say even out loud.
you tilt your head, looking at him. you’re so patient. so hot. “you want my tits?”
he nods. embarrassing and embarrassed.
you sigh softly, fondly, and start unbuttoning the top few buttons of your shirt. but leave it like that, you’re not in the mood to take anything more off. would be too intimate. so you instead reach in, pull the cups of your bra down, let your tits spill out over the top.
“oh… mhm…” he breathes, staring. he’s never seen anything so perfect in his life. (he has, it’s chan’s back, jeongin’s just too horny now)
you lean forward a little and gently caress the side of his neck with one hand, thumb stroking over his racing pulse.
his breathing stops.
“come here.” you whisper, straddling him, knees on either side of his hips. you reach down, wrap your fingers around his condom covered cock, and line him up with yourself.
you start sinking down. inch by inch. so slow. you could go fast but you’re in the mood now too, finally.
(acting like you weren’t also in the mood when you were grinding with chan and when, as painful it is to admit, when you were listening to that otherworldly asshole’s, hwang fucking hyunjin’s little moans while you sucked him off)
he feels good. you’re wet already anyway. condom has lube too, which you’re currently wiping off on his shoulder. jeongin doesn’t care, doesn’t notice, currently his head falls back on the wall, giving a little “aaahh…” to you, mouth open, eyes closing. his hands get on your waist, gripping, holding, wanting.
“fuck, you’re so tight.” he whines up into the air. thanks.
you let his brutally satisfying??? cock fill you up until your ass is on his smooth boy thighs. feels good, that he’s holding you up now, kind of. the knowledge that you’re sitting on him and you’re, kinda, safe. and oh yeah also that he’s buried to the hilt in you, stretching you nicely.
you let out a soft, pleased sigh, adjusting to the feeling of him, rocking a little, your body releasing dopamine now that your little cunt finally has something big in it.
for a bit you just sit there, full of him. jeongin turns his head back down to look at your taken out tits.
you start rocking first. nothing crazy, you’re good at what you do, good at sex anyway. his cock quite literally stirs in you. feels good.
movement makes your tits bounce gently. jeongin’s eyes follow them, he’s hypnotized, lips parted, soft little moans slipping out his pretty mouth.
“mhyeah, yeah, that’s good…” he mumbles.
“hm.” you answer to not leave him on seen irl and keep rocking, nice and slow, letting him get hornier, feel every inch of your warm, wet pussy sliding around his cock.
your hands decide to live on his shoulders, thumbs stroking his neck as you move. you’re sweet. good at this.
you let out these soft, sweet little sounds that make him a thousand times more into this, into the moment, and you start getting into it more. rising up a little higher before sinking back down, really riding him. smooth, sensual.
your tits bounce more noticeably, jiggling everytime you drop down on his cock. jeongin’s hands slide up from your waist/hips to cup your breasts, as much as it’s out at least, holding them, his assistant’s pretty boobs.
“oh my god, fuck, you feel so good.” he whimpers.
“thank you, innie. so do you.”
he moans. loud. his hips start thrusting up to meet yours, trying to fuck up into you. patience, maybe? no? okay.
you lean forward, pressing your tits closer to his face, and he take his chance, latches onto one nipple, sucking on it, moaning around it. it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. both his hands keep squeezing, kneading, mammal, animal while you ride him a little faster, a little harder. wet sounds of your pussy sliding up and down his cock start to come out. rhythmic. you’re way better at this than he is.
his head keeps falling back, then snapping forward again so he can watch your tits bounce and suck on them again. his teeth hurt on you sometimes, whatever, working is hard, and that’s what you’re doing now. now you just… enjoy it enough to moan too. or maybe it’s also the discomfort that your clit would like some friction too, but him inside is good too. really good.
not as good as for him though.
“ahh, fuck— oh my god.” his voice is high. he can’t control it. you’re too good. you’re perfect.
you grab his pretty face with one hand, the other is still on that flawless shoulder you’d love sitting on, like nothing sexual genuinely just sitting, men with shoulders like these are made to carry girls on them, anyways, and squish his cheeks together.
his lips pucker out like a fish, still swollen, eyes going wide as you ride him slower to focus on your words.
“do you know when chan’s coming home?” you ask calmly, still bouncing on his cock, like it’s nothing, dude.
“dunno, he alweady migh be homemmph.”
“shut the fuck up then.”
jeongin’s eyes roll back and he moans even louder. dipshit. he likes that. the meanness. the way you’re using him and he’s also using you.
but he really can’t stay quiet. he’s getting so close already, pathetic boy. his balls are all up in him already, his abs are clenching, thighs shaking and flexing under you.
and exactly when he starts whimpering “i’m close— i’m so close—” you sit fully on his cock, grinding in slow circles now, and he whines pathetically under your hand still squishing his cheeks.
“n-nooo, please, ah wass so closs.”
you wait until his breathing evens out a little, then start moving slowly again, taking him fully again.
he moans loud and relieved, head falling back. so happy that you’re riding him again, faster this time, tits bouncing over your bra which he’s too close to cum to pay proper attention to. why are they out then?
him not appreciating you enough is your exact reason to edge him again when he looks like he’s close, so you lift yourself up until just the tip is inside you, holding still.
his hips try to chase you. “fuhh—ffuck, no, no no no— i was right there, i was right there.” he tries to thrust up but you squirm away, clicking your tongue. that’s so hot. “pleassah need— ah, need t’cum— so baaad, so fuckin’ badh—”
you look down at him, squishing his cheeks together more once or twice just to watch him look cute, and sink back down slowly.
he cries out, head rolling around as you’re bouncing fast, letting your tits jiggle right in front of his face that he now looks at sometimes. still not good enough.
you let go of his face. need both hands on his perfect shoulders. now you can listen to him tell you “ahhgonna— mmh, fuck, y/n— so good so gooood— please lemmelemme i need, ungh— cum— pleasepleaseplease—”
you stop. you sit still on his cock, clenching around him rhythmically while he thrashes around underneath you.
his eyes are wet, whole face red, beautiful. “mmh, y/n, gonna—gonna, fuck, mommy— nowaitshit— please, ahh, huuh, fuckme, please— unghhh—” he has his teary eyes rolled back, mouth open, drooling a little. he’s so close it hurts, y/n, please.
“shh. be quiet. chan might be home, remember?”
he nods. “mmh, sorry, please, let me— want, pleaseeeee—”
pathetic.
that’s what he gets. that’s what he deserves for being a selfish asshole, and also because he works so hard and so entitled. so he gets this both for the good and bad.
fuck, he heard that edging feels good or whatever but this is his first time experiencing it. it’s brutal. torture. unbearable. he’s so going to thank you later.
“you wanna cum, jeongin?” you ask sweetly.
“yes, yes please iiii wanna cum so bad.”
“you sure?”
“yes, yesyesyes— please let me, i’m so close, so good, i am, please—”
you keep rolling your hips. “you really do?”
“yes, yesh, please i’m so close it hurts please let me cum—”
“you really need to?”
he’s so turned on. “yes yes yes please please please please i’ll do anything—”
“you want to cum?”
“yes—”
“you want to cum?”
“yes please—”
“you want to cum, jeongin?”
“yesfuckyes, ahh— pleasepleaseplease—”
“really?”
“i can’t hold it y/n pleaseeee—”
his whole body is shaking, hips jerking up desperately, trying to fuck you harder but you keep control.
you finally sigh. don’t stop your pace now. “sure, go ahead, whatever.”
jeongin’s eyes roll back, like he loses control of them, and he lets out the loudest orgasm you’ve ever pulled out of a man.
his hips jerk up, uncontrollable, burying himself as deep as he can while he shakes and thrashes and cries out. high, pathetic, beautiful moans, screams, cries. pretty face twisted in pure bliss as he keeps shooting load after load.
his balls pulse under your ass with every shot he delivers into the condom. it’s adorable.
his whole body convulses underneath you, abs clenching, thighs shaking, ass flexing up, fingers digging painfully into your waist as he rides out the longest, hardest orgasm of his life.
you gave that to him. his assistant. helped him out with this too.
you keep riding him through it. his eyes are rolled back, mouth open, drooling, completely fucked stupid. it takes almost thirty seconds before his orgasm finally starts to fade.
you sit down on his cock for a few more seconds, letting him catch his breath, then slowly lift yourself off him. he slips out with a wet sound, condom very full.
you stand up, not even mad that you didn’t cum because you didn’t expect to, whatever you’ll rub one out at home, pull your bra back up, button your shirt, pull your pants and panties back on calmly. fix your clothes.
all while that dumb little babe is lying there completely fucked out. it looks good on him, that hoodie pushed up, pants around his thighs, cock softening in the condom, chest slowly moving now, eyes closed.
you pat his cheek. your first idea was to give him a forehead kiss but that would be unprofessional(that would be?). “you did well. get some rest, okay? drink some water.”
he nods weakly, mumbling something that sounds like “thank you” but slurred.
“and don’t think too hard about it.”
“got it.” he whispers.
you check your reflection real quick in the mirror (you look mostly normal), and leave his room. a boyish room. suits him. kinda messy but not the clothes on the floor way, just lotta clutter. nice, in general.
chan doesn’t seem to be home yet. you pause at the front door, listening, but there’s nothing.
eh. you’re too tired to go back into the studio to check on him now. whatevs.
you close the door softly behind you and head home.
men. always so horny. always so loud. always leaving you walking home at midnight. but hey, at least you’re good at your job.
the next morning, jeongin is sitting at the small kitchen counter at their dorm, staring intensely into his little protein cereal. chan walks into the kitchen, still just waking up, oh how cute boys are just living together, and jeongin looks somewhere else. the ceiling, the floor, his spoon, anywhere but chan’s face. his leg is bouncing.
chan, mostly half asleep and shirtless still, scratches his stomach and opens the fridge. “morning.”
“morning.” jeongin says way too nonchalant, eyes glued to his cereal.
chan grabs his own shit, whatever men like these eat that are either forced on them or they torture themselves with it willingly, and sits down across from jeongin.
jeongin doesn’t look up.
chan raises an eyebrow. chews on his little breakfast. hot. “you good?”
“yeah. super good. everything’s great.” he shovels cereal into his mouth so aggressively he almost chokes on it. oh but didn’t choke on pussy yesterday.
chan chews slowly, watching him. “…did you break something of mine?”
“no.”
“did you mess up something?”
“no.” jeongin stands up, grabs his bowl, basically runs to the sink. “i’m gonna go shower.” he announces to the fucking wall. he can’t look his hyung in the eye. not after he spent half the night with his cock buried inside the same girl chan had on him a few nights ago.
chan sits there, completely lost. “…okay?”
jeongin speedwalks to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
channie baby(hopeless man just too tired mentally to be anything and anywhere else) hears the shower turn on. hm. okay. he mutters to himself “what the fuck is wrong with him this morning…” chan is typically the type to mutter to himself out loud. chan is like those dads who swear on their lives they don’t care about the series going on in the tv but still stand with specifically both hands on his hips behind the couch, eyes glued to the screen. he’s also like the dads who are fucking asleep and the milisecond you reach for the remote, he wakes up and tells you he was watching that.
anyways. he has no idea what’s up with jeongin.
yeah no but just again, these men know each other. can read each other like the word apple. it doesn’t even take three hours for them to figure out that jeongin is not his usual self, and they care about each other, so they’ll want to know what’s in his mind.
and about especially the fucking way he’s on you all day. during practice he “accidentally” bumps into you and lets his hand live on your lower back while smiling and apologizing. bitch take it off. during their lunch he sits next to you, eating, talking to you with his mouth full, really on you and really noticing that you’re the same as you were until now, that you don’t act different. he doesn’t know what to think of that. doesn’t like it, there’s this heavy feeling in his stomach. yeah, he doesn’t like it.
so soon the second you’re away filling their water bottles or just getting new plastic ones, they fly on his ass.
so they’re alone. han kicks jeongin’s foot. “yo, what’s wrong with you? you got laid?”
jeongin’s face loses all color.
felix is grinning. “nah, look at him. he’s glowing, bro.” bro. average men conversation, bro.
seungmin watches jeongin, standing next to him. his eyes are that low lidded type, like he has a straight face. “what’s up?”
changbin leans forward. he’s so cute. “what happened?”
“c’mon.” minho tells him.
hyunjin comes into jeongin’s face a little. “y/n?”
silence.
jeongin is fidgeting with his two hands. laughing. then not. trying to play it cool but failing miserably. “…yeah. we had sex.”
silence.
“she went down on you too??”
“oh— no, like, she rode me.”
…
..?
???
han screams “WHAT?! you?!”
felix turns away, throwing his arms up. “this is bullshit.”
hyunjin’s pretty face twists. “what?” now imagine that in the little beautiful voice of his.
changbin is covering his mouth. chan’s heart physically stops beating. minho’s eyes get BIG.
seungmin is impressed. smiling so wide. “how was it?”
oh jeongin gets brutally embarrassed that he has to say it out loud. like, he wants to, it’s just hard. what happened to allat he’s finally as good as his hyungs mindset? “it was… really good. she was really nice. uh… ate her out. uh, dude, i don’t know, it just happened.”
“how’d she taste?” “did you last longer than two minutes?” “did she moan?” “was she tight? tell me she was tight.” “you lucky little shit, i’ve been trying to get her alone for days—”
“i saw her tits and everything. they’re great.”
han actually falls on his knees.
they’re teasing. being boys. getting more information out of him as we’re speaking, he tells them the whole story. but they’re mad. like wdym jeongin got full sex? wdym you told chan no but let the little maknae dick you down? okay dick you down and you riding him until he was screaming are two different things, but he’s honest about what happened and the others fuck with it. anyways, wdym hyunjin got left with blue balls but jeongin had real sex? hyunjin wants real sex too. so mostly him and chan are the ones actually mad. the others are just jealous but whatever they’re friends and they love innie, no hard feelings. none of them.
and back then, some judged you for even just spending the night with chan. now, surprisingly, there’s none of that. a normal person would assume you’re an actual whore, but since they really want your services, they basically see the world though pink tinted glasses.
can’t be mad at you. you’re so sweet, so helpful, so innocent, so hot. y/n always helps them out. that’s just how the world goes, this was supposed to happen with innie. maybe is it supposed to happen with them too? they hope so.
later that afternoon, when everyone else is distracted with fuckwhat, chan pulls you into one of a smaller rooms, closes the door.
he’s trying to be calm, but it’s not working. “you slept with jeongin?”
“yes.”
he exhales through his nose, looking away, such a man, having his hands on his slutty hips. “why?”
you lean against a table. professional. mature. way more put together than he is right now. “because i wanted to, chan. it’s that simple. he asked. i said yes. same as when you asked. same as when hyunjin asked. it’s just helping, you know that. releasing stress. you all carry so much. i don’t mind being the relief when you need it.”
he’s… insecure? “but why him? after you told me no the other night. after you stopped us. you let him fuck you but you wouldn’t let me?”
oh. so that’s what this is abouuuut.
“what happened with him wasn’t special in that way. he heard us one night through the wall, exactly the night i stopped us. it was different with you, that was a different situation. you two are two different maturities. i thought you knew that too.” i thought you knew that too. why are you lowkey a good manipulator? “i like taking care of you specifically, if that’s what you’re overthinking about. but i’m not picking favorites. it just came like this. this isn’t driven by emotion, but the night i stopped us was. we both could tell, yeah?”
“…yeah.”
“yeah.”
why are you having the upper hand here???
he swallows, looking away. he looks gross. vulnerable needy little bitch. “so you don’t… feel anything when you’re with them?”
“not in the way you’re thinking.” you say softly. it matters how you talk to him now.
he’s quiet for a long time, processing. you’re so calm. so mature. so in control. it’s hot. it turns him on. finally he lets out a long breath and nods. “okay. yeah, you’re right. you’re right.”
you smile and pat his chest. “good. anything else?” oh that has a double meaning and both of you know it.
he watches you with big eyes. “…no.”
dumbass.
yeah. so that went down too. that helped you with seeing them more clearly now.
the more they get comfortable around you, the more they show what they can’t show the cameras. it’s hot, the tension, the secret, but now you see how they are, how they think. how much of the opposites they are from what they give out to the world. weird, confusing, toxic, selfish, traumatized, sexist.
hyunjin is one of the worst. he’s nasty. a bad man. he once told you women are naturally better at taking care of people, which sounds like a nice sentence at first especially said to a woman, but he means it in a way where your entire worth is tied to how useful and soft and fuckable you are. he expects you to drop everything when he calls your name. when you don’t jump fast enough he gets pissy. you’re a hole with nice hands to him. nothing more.
just again, him and jeongin are really similar. jeongin right now feels like getting his dick wet makes him manlier than his hyungs. he just basks in the ego high of i fucked her too.
felix is… you don’t see the side of felix where he’s sexist and kinda unintentionally mean. he doesn’t show you that. he’ll say shit like you’re so good at handling us but the subtext is always you’re so good at serving men. so there’s only under the surface things that you could notice. he doesn’t see you as a full person, he sees a walking collection of holes that happens to be nice to him and gives them what he asks for.
and han gets grabby and pushy when he’s horny. doesn’t really take in mind the fact that you have a personal space too and that you’re not just a worker for him. he’ll sling his arm around you, pull you to his lap without asking, basically is all on you. lucky that you like it, because he doesn’t care if you’re uncomfortable. he wants what he wants. c’mon just the tip final boss. a creep.
changbin is less aggressive than the others but just as selfish. he wants comfort. he wants to be taken care of. he wants your body, he wants a woman. now.
seungmin fully expects you to spread your legs when he decides it’s time. because to him you’re just useful. that’s what you are, a nice girl who can be used for his selfish dick.
minho… would see you as a woman if he cared about your personality, if maybe he got to know you as a person before a worker, if he was your friend, but he’s not. now he’s just an older guy who wants what’s between his assistant’s legs.
chan wants to be special, that’s what his fault is. he’s insecure, needy, sexist, and has a million other things to pay attention to, to top all this off. he’s unbelievably stressed. this is not good for him, but well… better as if there was no relief(the one you give) at all.
they’re all disgusting, pure lustbrained creeps who see you for your body, your services only. they don’t care about your feelings, they don’t ask if your jaw hurts after sucking them off, they don’t care if you’re tired or sore or tired from managing eight massive egos. they just want, want, want. more head. more pussy. more tits in their face. more of you dropping everything to service them.
they’re bitches too. under the idol image, they’re all entitled passive aggressive little shits. they complain about schedules, about each other, about management, about everything, but never about themselves. never about how they treat you.
you watch them live, just learn them when they’re busy. the way they bark your name when they want something. the way they expect you to laugh at their bad man jokes. the way they stare at your body. the casual sexism that slips out in “harmless” comments about women in the industry, about how “emotional” girls get, about how lucky they are to have a “chill” assistant like you.
it disgusts you.
you’re fascinated by it.
how quickly the fake act falls once they’ve had their dick in you. how fast thank you y/n turns into get on your knees y/n, how they go from sweer idols to horny, selfish boys the second they don’t have to act, to look good.
you like them for it, after all.
they’ve been told their whole lives that they’re special, that women exist to serve in some capacity, and now they got you dropped down at their bigass feet, competent, sweet, sexually available, confirming every disgusting fantasy they’ve ever had.
just again, felix and his fantasies. he’ll say something normal, seems like just a nice, an okay guy, all while he’s imagining you in some position he saw in a hentai at 4am. he wants to finally put it in something warm and living and woman and something that will make him cum. he wants you to call him daddy. to suck his cock while he plays his fucking games. he just wants and doesn’t want to give.
jeongin is just dumb. plain dumb. pretty face, nice dick, zero thoughts. he thinks getting to fuck you makes him cool, he tells the others about it left and right, he thinks he accomplished something instead of just being lucky.
hyunjin is mean. he wants to hurt you a little. he gets off on the power imbalance, that you are so much smaller than him, that he could fire you anytime. wouldn’t, though.
seungmin watches you always, when your back is to him. he just wants to fuck. like purely just wants some. he’s just… not entitled enough to do something about it. but he wants to. doesn’t know what to, though. and you’ve already had lots of the others, won’t he look pathetic? ugh, he can’t stand the thought of that. can only hope you see him attractive enough. wants you to. wants to play with you. make you like his voice, his body, his dick. personality is not important. who cares when you’re nothing more than a pair of tits and skill.
changbin feels like shit. already felt like fucking shit in general, then you came along, gave him hope, sucked hyunjin off. he’s not angry at you, of course, he’s not that dumb(so like if this situation was with seungmin and felix, if felix was in changbin’s potion then he’d be so angry at you too. but he’s not in changbin’s position, so) but he really wants some too, c’mon, everyone knows that. hyunjin especially!! so he’s a little angry at hyune now. that combined with living like this, the all time pressure, wanting to fuck bad and knowing who you want to fuck, makes him unreasonable too. he does crazy, dumb shit too. but that mostly comes out between him and the boys, so you don’t get much of that.
minho wants to dick you down but not urgent enough yet to ask. maybe in a scenario where he’ll get real needy but why would you be there, that usually happens when he’s at home. he thinks jisung will eventually start taking you home too, maybe then he’ll start opening towards you more. he already opens towards you lots, take him sitting with you and talking to you, simple staff btw that’s what you are, he’s just that attracted to you.
han just wants some attention too. he gets plenty of it already, but he wants your sexual attention specifically. your eyes on him, preferably in a scenario where he’s shirtless and you’re admiring him. he likes that little scenario lots. when daydreaming, his thoughts always come back to that. it’s his favorite. but… he’s not smart. we know that. so his kindness towards you comes from his want, not his pure heart. because he doesn’t value you. he just wants to fuck.
and we already know, chan wants to be your favorite, doesn’t matter if he likes that fact or not. he wants(craves, needs) emotional intimacy mixed with filthy sex and he doesn’t like that you won’t give him both.
or maybe he has to ask for that too? your job is to do things for them. ugh, no, not that easy. nevermind.
you see how they compete now. how they stare at you, follow you with their eyes. how they touch you more, really shooting their shots with the charm they learned over the years. they’re disgusting.
oh you don’t ignore any of this. you keep in mind every disgusting, selfish, sexist, lustful part of them that they have shown you so far. but you don’t care. you’re okay with them this way, this is just sex. work.
and they use that you let them act like this and accept them that way, since you enable their behavior, you let it slide. why wouldn’t you, you get paid for it.
yeah it’s a mutual understanding. during one long waiting period, you’re sitting on a couch with minho. you two are quiet, have been the whole time, you’re leaning forward to look through some papers on the table in front of you two, someone is talking to you, it’s all so crowded, fast, you feel his hand slide down your back… then lower… then he gropes your ass. like a confident squeeze. something a boyfriend would do.
you turn around immediately and he’s already looking at his phone, blank face, both hands on the phone. “sorry did you—“
“hm?” he asks. looks up at you with those big shining eyes, acting like he doesn’t know what you’re about to ask, like he’s just here and you mixed him up with someone. works well.
you stare at him. he stares back. you both know he’s lying. you both know he doesn’t care.
you sigh. look back to your business. the shit you let them get away with.
he bites his lip not to smile.
also, seungmin and felix living together means that they move such on the same frequency. they get each other so well, click immediately when they want to do something or the other does.
this was the explanation for how one afternoon, near at one of the closets you walk into to get something, they follow you. like not sneaky following, they’ve been having a conversation with you for about fifteen minutes now, so naturally they went with you, weren’t needed for work anyway.
now you’re completely talking to them, just holding whatever you came for. seungmin is in front of you, humming back to you, while felix is behind you pretending to reach for something on the shelf. dumb thing because what could possibly the princess need from there.
you feel fingers at your bra clasp, fumbling, clearly not experienced.
felix is trying to undo it one handed while seungmin distracts you with boring small talk about han.
they’re fucking hilarious, actually.
also can’t do it for shit.
you act like you don’t notice. the clasp doesn’t budge. lix gets frustrated, tugs harder, loses balance, grabs seungmin and yanks him to hold himself up. seungmin falls into felix. both of them fuck around, nearly knocking you over.
you close your eyes. smile. giggle. hear a loud “fuck—” from felix and a “yah—” from seungmin as they tangle into each other.
you turn around slowly.
felix is red. seungmin is pretending he wasn’t involved.
“you two good?”
“yeah.” they say at the same time.
felix mutters something about “the shelf was crooked” and stands up properly, fixes his clothes, hair. seungmin does about the same.
what does this result in? getting their egos hurt when they think they weren’t hot enough for you, didn’t impress you enough. that also can result from when they see one of the others impress you more(well, you’re not really impressed, but they think the other impressed you more because they thought the other did better than them).
hyunjin is big on that too. you make the mistake of smiling at changbin during lunch(because he said something genuinely nice, at least he can). hyunjin sees it from across the room and actually stomps. like actually fucking stomps his foot then barks “y/n. come here.” across the room
you get up, walk over.
he grabs your wrist and leans in. there was zero need for allat for what he’s about to ask for, but he’s beautiful doing it so it’s forgiven. “i want coffee. iced. two shots. oat milk. extra ice. and make sure it’s not watered down like last time.”
he doesn’t need coffee. he just saw you give changbin attention.
you nod sweetly(important that you’re sweet) and go get it.
when you hand it to him he takes it without a word, frowns down at it, then turns away with it. not one thank you said.
the others are just as childish. whores. literally, han hugs you from behind to hang on you. he’s fucking brutal like literally loosens his knees and hangs from you. “sorry y/n, i’m just so tired~” yeah suuuuure buddy.
remember how jeongin slapped your arm sweetly back when you were working with chan and he came out in underwear only? wait you know what he’s packing in those now. anyways. he’s doing those slaps now too, just to touch you, and they somehow always end up brushing the side of your tit. or “y/n i’m so sore from practice, can you massage my shoulders?”
and felix really only does this when no other staff is around, he doesn’t want a rumor to start now does he, but once or twice(exactly seven times) it already happened that he got behind you and rested his chin on your shoulder. breathing on your neck just because he knows women like that, if he’s tired too then one hand on your waist while he asks you about what you’re currently doing. transferring seungmin’s money, felix, transferring seungmin’s money. he asks you to do something similiar for him too later then leaves. he doesn’t want to. he likes your touch(to a level where liking your touch is more romantic than just lust) but he has shit to do and so do you. oh but when he’s free and you’re still busy then suddenly it’s not a problem—
once, once, minho put his hand on your thigh when you two were sitting next to chan in the rolling chairs while listening to han sing something out. chan didn’t notice, it’s not even about that, only you did. and him.
sometimes when you turn your head while on your laptop at one of the couches, seungmin is just staring into your soul. just looks at you, heavy eye contact when you look up. …hello?? he waves. oh okay hi.
and to top that off changbin has the audacity to come with “y/n… can you stay with me for a bit?” while you have a hundred other things to do and three of them is bringing important stuff to chan and exactly one is getting hyunjin matcha.
and chan wants to know that you still like him best. the fuck he so big for(wideness, not height) if he’s this small mentally.
you and him are sitting next to each other talking bout sum shit, well you’re talking, because he’s looking at you with the wettest most fuckable pathetic little kicked over no makeup eyes that his body is capable of. and he doesn’t mean to. he just gets so lost in his assistant that he lets you talk for minutes then has zero clue what you just said when you ask back. you hate that. like really actually do this is for real, go to work, chan.
yesterday for an example, you feel lix’s breath on your neck while he “helps” you carry something(not like anyone asked him to). and he doesn’t think that’s wrong. okay yeah, he feels it but only in the professional way, that the only wrongness about this is about his career. notice yourself, you fucking creep.
yes they’re this horrible. genuinely psychologically fucked up like how most famous people usually are.
age order now again, chan is deeply insecure and controlling. he needs to feel like he’s your main pick, like he’s special, like he’s the only one who really gets you(??? he’s weird). just because he was your first.
everytime you give attention to someone else it chips at his ego and he gets even sadder. and this man is already sad enough for most days, his life is living hell. typa guy who would cry after sex or get mad at you for not cuddling him long enough. leader complex, workaholic, abandonment issues, brutal wounds from his past. just great. oh you don’t wish a relationship with him on your worst enemy(sweet summer child y/n only if you knew how this fic will end…)
minho is blunt and dehumanizing on purpose. he sees you as a tool that happens to have a nice pussy. he’s a nice guy, sure whatever, is good for male friendship. would also be great for a romantic relationship with a woman but he doesn’t want any of that right now, right now his main focus “romantically” is you and your body.
changbin wants love and care from you while giving nothing back. selfish. so so so selfish but he’s also a really easy man. means you could have the upper hand here if you wanted it, but you don’t. you don’t fucking care as long as you get paid and get to have sex.
hyunjin has no empathy, that’s what his problem is besides being an average man, which means there’s evil in his heart. he gets off on power and degradation. he wants to hurt your feelings a little, wants to make you feel small so he feels bigger. classic narcissist with a god complex.
han is aggressive. he uses “playfulness” as an excuse to grope and grind and push. he’s emotionally immature as fuck. he thinks being loud and energetic towards you makes him charming when really he’s just exhausting. you liked him better when he wasn’t interested in you, when he was more real, when you saw him stare at his phone and look unflattering. then, you were even a little attracted. you like it when men are real. now you know what he wants.
felix is just an… average degrading porn watcher. yeah we’re really dragging it back to porn here so let’s ignore how significant it is to the way he acts, he’s dumb to start off with. this can be told by anything, really. a man that dumb could see women in a nice light, he does too, just not enough to respect an assistant who gives her body out.
seungmin is fine with staring at your ass, for now. he only understands people he loves, people he wants to understand. he can only feel empathy for them. so there is no reason for him to care about someone such low as you are, since you’re just staff. that’s all you are.
jeongin is just dumb. painfully dumb. classic pretty but empty. zero emotional intelligence. getting his dick wet makes him feel like a man. and he doesn’t understand boundaries. he just wants more, more, more, he cannot get enough of you, the idea of you.
they’re all menchildren. bitches. on you. constantly. they want attention. they want your hands giving care to them(your job btw). they want your mouth(not your job). they want your pussy, they want you to look at them with love and acceptance while they treat you like an object, they want you to be at their feet the second they snap their fingers.
jeongin is, obviously, like the worst now. ever since you fucked him he’s been glued to you. clingy. he’s too inexperienced with relationships that have worklife in them at some point, too dumb, too attached. he’s waiting for you to drag him into the nearest room again and doesn’t get it when it doesn’t happen. like… he hopes you want him. oh, you must, he ate you out so good. made you cum like, what, three times?(not even once) but oh what if you don’t like him..? oh no…
he’s is still in the honeymoon phase of i had sex with someone new, and it shows. he obviously feels a lot even though it was made clear that no feelings involved. he’s just not built for that and went into it too easily because he was horny at the moment. now look where that got him, he stares at you during the day, when you’re talking to chan about something, when you’re bringing the others things, when you help at practices, the others have to scream at him to pay attention. you give zero reactions to those, you, the fucking assistant is more professional than him.
the others are pissed. jealous. but can you blame him. blame them. they’re traumatized. fucked up. probably not fixable at all. years of torture, brutal training, sleep deprivation, constant criticism, their worth supposedly only as good as their last comeback, having their bodies and faces and voices taken as products which all need to be perfect. no fucking human is perfect. and they all push through pain, through illness, through burnout because stopping means disappointing millions and losing everything they’ve sacrificed for. it’s brutal.
they’ve been conditioned since they were teenagers to ignore their own bodies, their own minds, their own needs. like feelings are totally weakness(plus they’re men, feelings are much harder to express for men). vulnerability is girly. rest is laziness.
and you get it, you get why they need you now, why they all jumped at the chance of you.
they get prettier and emptier. praised and worshipped but never truly known. surrounded by people but deeply lonely.
you understand why they’re like this. you don’t want anything from them except their cum and their temporary peace. they want that.
deep down, even if they’re not conscious of it, appreciate it. your actions, selflessness and care means so much to them, they just don’t know it, could barely tell even if someone pointed it out for them.
so yea you’re still down to fuck, you don’t care how fucked up they are because you’re not gonna date them(again, only if you knew what awaits you at the end of the series) sometimes letting them use your body is the kindest thing you can do for them.
and oh bin has been having enough of hyunjin lately. he loves him so much, they’re literally each other’s top people, but no doubt that they get irritated at each other. these are usually little phases. now there’s a hyunjin irritates changbin phase. it’ll pass, whatever, they all do, but it’s still ongoing now. so when you overhear hyunjin telling someone during lunch that he’s sleeping over at his parents’ house tonight, you already know what’s coming.
and what’s coming? changbin finding you in a hallways while everyone’s packing up.
“y/n, hey, uh, are you free tonight? my dorm. hyunjin’s gone for the night, i know you two… yeah. i… i could really use some company. if you want.”
you understand perfectly. he’s asking for the same thing the others have been chasing, relief.
“yeah, i’ll come over.” knowing he wants to bury his face between your legs or cry in your arms or both.
because at the end of the day, these are just men. disgusting, traumatized, horny men who never had the chance to learn how to ask for help the healthy way.
men are already shit at that, now combine that with the way these live. so they ask with their bodies. with their dicks. with their neediness and their selfishness and their ugly little egos.
you let them. someone has to. you can handle it. you’re fine with it. you’re always fine with it.
so hours later, you end up at his and hyunjin’s dorm again. oh how much better the atmosphere is when hyunjin is not here! (he’s actually a pleasant company if you two are friends. but you two are not)
changbin holds the door open for you like a proper gentleman, okay wow thanks, stepping back with a small, shy smile. looks good on him. or more likely, knows how to use it.
“come in… thank you for coming. really.” oh he’s so much better than hyunjin was. “do you want water? or tea? i can make coffee if you want something warm. or… there’s juice? or snacks? i bought some fruit earlier—”
“i’m okay, really. thank you though.” you shake your head with a pretty smile.
he hovers as you walk further inside. though he knows it’s not your first time here. fuck. but the dorm is neat, much neater than chan and jeongin’s place.
changbin waits until you sit down on the couch first, then sits next to you, leaving a respectful gap between your bodies. his hands in his lap, fingers playing with themselves. he’s visibly nervous. first time having a hooker over or whatever.
he clears his throat. “so… how was your day? i know it was long. you were running around a lot again. i saw you.”
you lean back a little, getting comfy, crossing your legs. “it was fine. same as usual. how about you? you seemed tired during practice.”
“yeah… it’s been like that lately. y’know, we have lots of things to do.” you do know, you do some of them for them.
“yeah. you’re doing great though.”
he chuckles, looks away, rubbing his thigh.
“tell me what’s been going on with you.”
he exhales. poor boy. “it’s just… everything. and the others get in these moods where nothing i do is right, and then at night i can’t sleep because… my brain won’t turn off. it’s all just a lot now.” he’s trying his best, communicating. men aren’t good at that, expressing their feelings, we know that.
“i have no idea how tiring it could be to be you. i just run around, that’s what i can tell you about, but for you… it’s unbelievable to me.”
“oh, no, heh, you’re—“
“you’re so good at what you do, boss.”
he looks at you. his mouth is open.
oh that boss was so perfect right now.
suddenly your knees are touching. then your thighs. his hand is on your waist. you turn toward him and he meets you halfway.
the kiss is very… adult. deep, hungry. he kisses good. and—oh he’s already using tongue. now that’s what you like. no fucking around, and he’s confident now(must have remembered how amazing he is again, your words helped him too), one hand cupping the back of your neck while the other pulls you closer.
his heartubeatuh, horribly overused and unfunny joke but couldn’t miss it, is so fast, so fast that he notices it. but his main focus is on your mouth, on you. he gives a relieved sound when you kiss him back just as eagerly, sounds so good. you two match so well.
he pulls back. well, that was quick. oh wait no he has something to say. “you’re… really good at that.” he whispers.
you smile, biting your bottom lip on purpose. “so are you.”
“uh, listen, i don’t want you to feel like you have to. if you don’t want this, we can just talk. or watch something. i don’t want to be like the others who—”
“i want to.” you squeeze his knee. he feels it. “i’m here because i want to be. because i like helping you feel good. because i like you, changbin.”
“oh—okay then. thanks.”
the kiss picks up where it left off. this is different from the others, with chan it was heavy and emotional, for him. with hyunjin it was pure human nature. with jeongin it was clumsy and so horny and just wanting to stick it somewhere already. with changbin… it’s actually pleasant. sweet, for your soul too for once, not just theirs.
you kiss him harder, sucking on his tongue, and he whimpers, let’s fucking go. you’re more confident now, that can be told easily by anyone who knows you. but luckily, these men don’t know you. can’t tell that you know they all want you. you know you can have any of them you want, whenever you want. that you might even be an… addiction? in development? well it wouldn’t get nice for their mental health to get addicted to something now, but what can you do about it? nothing.
you lean away, he thinks you’re just getting air, but then you start kissing down his neck. oh his dear god yes please. open mouthed, wet and hot kisses at first that makes him let out a loud exhale, head tilting to the side in pleasure, not even consciously.
the second your teeth graze his neck, when you start lightly nibbling on him, he gets goosebumps so visible, running down his arms. he shivers, arches, gets so hard in his pants.
“ah, fuck…”
you take his encouragement and do it again, nibbling on his neck, then going up and sucking gently under his ear.
his skin is so sensitive, so reactive. every little bite makes him twitch and whimper and smile and squirm around. the thought of rubbing your hip(that he’s still holding onto) crosses his mind, but then your tongue on his neck makes him moan and the thought of doing something for you too passes quickly.
he’s relieved someone is finally taking care of him for once. he’s so selfish. he’s under so much pressure. he deserves this. he deserves to be selfish. to have a pretty girl kissing his neck, and lower, soon.
you slide your hand down between your bodies and start rubbing him over his jeans. that’s what we meant by lower, soon. because he deserves this too.
he’s so hard. feels nice. you rub on him slowly, and binnie’s head falls back on the couch with a loud moan, hips pushing up into your hand.
he’s so responsive. every little squeeze or grope or stroke makes him turns his head around, eyes closed, blissed the fuck out. every time your teeth graze his skin he moans. he’s so hard it has to hurt.
you nibble on his neck, finding a what looks like a pretty sensitive spot.
“please don’t stop.” he breathes. “i… i really need you tonight…”
“i’ve got you. just relax.” and he does. he melts under your hands, moaning softly. “can i take your pants off, changbin?”
he nods so fast. “yeah, please, you can take everything off if you want.”
he looks down at you undoing his belt with huge eyes, you’re doing better with this belt than you were with hyunjin’s, it’s away in a second. button, zipper next. his cock basically calling your name.
he lifts his hips when you get to actually pulling things down. when you start tugging the jeans down only, he grabs his boxers himself and pushes down those too. oh, look at that, a cock. hello. his hands are shaking a little as he pushes them down his thick thighs.
hm. shaved for you. he looks nice. exactly what you’d expect from a short buff asian man. so a fat dick, basically. maybe around five inches, and holy the girth.
you wrap your hand around it. mhm, yeah, approved. his balls hang nicely too. a great package in general, looks like it would stretch you open so fucking good.
you hum softly in approval(that hits his heart so good). start stroking him as much as you can with no anything lubricanting involved.
changbin’s head falls back on the couch again with a moan, mouth open, eyes closing. “ahh, fuck… your hand feels so good.”
he’s so unbelievably sensitive. you like that.
you let a little spit drip on him to work better, now your hand slides on, with the foreskin and not afraid anymore to yank it too hard(you’re always scared of hurting dicks accidentally like this, they look so fragile:( ), now every stroke makes his cock twitch. feels good, how hard the cute little thing is. men just having things hanging between their legs is so cute.
when you twist your wrist at the head he whimpers, hips jerking up into your hand, head falling forward. some pre leaks from the slit that you can work with, it’s nicer to pull the skin up and down and around with that. you spread the pre around with your fingers, rubbing slow circles over the so so so sensitive head.
“y/n— shit, you’re so good at this…” and he’s heard about it too and still didn’t expect you to be this good.
you two actually look so cute from the outside if we ignore how erotic it is. you stroking him, sitting next to him, looking down at his fat cock disappearing into your fist over and over. cuties. plus, you’re unbelievably good at this and you know it. you squeeze perfect on the upstroke, thumb pressing under the head on every pass, occasionally spitting into your hand to make it even wetter. now it starts to give sounds too. it’s blessing your ears.
so far, great sexual experience. you’re gonna start grading these guys. he’s doing best so far from them, kinda.
it’s even cuter from the outside pov that he’s absolutely losing his mind beside you. his head keeps falling back, then snapping forward again so he can watch your hand working him, then to the side to bear with the pleasure and the emotions that come from finally getting this by someone else. his mouth stays open, moans, whimpers, stomach flexing all the time, whole body of his so honestly reacting to what you’re doing for him.
you lean down and give the head a slow little lick, then another but now swirl your tongue around the fat tip, as long as you don’t pull it back into your mouth you won’t feel the taste so it’s fine.
changbin lets out a loud whine. yeah that’s it for not taking your tongue back into your mouth because now you want it too, so to start off with you take just the head into your mouth, sucking gently while your hand keeps stroking the (thick) shaft. your jaw stretches. so does your back, having to sit next to him(you scooted over a bit) and leaning down to suck him off. you bob your head slowly, taking a little more each time, while your hand works the rest of him.
changbin puts his hands into your hair, gathers all of it, then holds it up in a pony with one hand, the other going down to your back. no particular reason, that’s just where humans would usually put their hand.
you pull off with a pop, fuck it sounds so hot it makes his tummy flip, strings of spit connecting your lips to his cock, and look up at him while you stroke him fast. “you’re so thick.” you murmur. “feels so good in my hand.”
he brings up the hand on your back to cover his lower face with, lower arm over his chin. part insecure about it, part just normally being affected by your words. “don’t say that i’ll cum too fast…”
you smile and lean back down, taking him deeper into your mouth, relaxing your throat so you can take more of him.
then you continue to suck him, bobbing your head, letting spit run down his shaft while only your fingers are around his base now. his moans pick up but louder.
it’s too easy. he’s so reactive, so sensitive, making him feel good is the easiest so far. an assistant’s job is to help, right? and right now changbin really, really needs help.
he’s also a natural in holding your hair back, so good at it, not pulling, not pushing your head down, just holding your hair in a loose little ponytail so it doesn’t get in the way. his grip moves with your head, picked the rhythm up you’re stroking him with.
oh he’s the male ever. but also, you struggle. your jaw starts to hurt after just a few minutes of sucking something this thick. the muscles burn, your lips feel stretched and sore and big, and everytime you take him deeper(which he always rewards with a little whine) you gag. your nose runs a little. your eyes water.
you have to pull back sometimes just to breathe, gasping, strings of spit connecting your swollen lips to his glistening cock while you stroke him with a slick hand. at least the smell of dick is not that strong in this position. well, you gladly deal with any men’s cock and balls smell if he’s hot enough, and changbin is hot enough, but still your nose having fresh air in it makes this a much better experience.
he doesn’t mind you stopping, if anything that’s what makes this perfect. helps him last longer too. always gives him a little time to breathe and turn his head around.
and he feels wanted. he feels desired. he feels like a man. he can barely think. could not care less about you stopping a few times because you need it.
he doesn’t taste particularly good. your throat constricts, trying to keep out whatever the fuck you’re shoving down on it now. you gag, an ugly gluck, spit runs down his shaft and over his pretty balls. his eyes roll back at the sound of that. your jaw hurts. your neck is starting to hurt from the angle. your eyes are watering so badly tears run down your cheeks.
but you push through, relaxing your throat as best you can, crossing your toes and whatever else tips you’ve heard for killing a gag reflex, taking him until your nose presses to his skin. there we go.
you gag. pull back, swallow around him. his whole body moves, arches, reacts above you. you circle your tongue around the fat head. he whimpers. you stroke the thick base with your slick hand while sucking the head. he throws his head back and humps his hips up.
you pull off for a bit to breathe, gasping, panting, coughing and every other colleague, strings of spit and precum connecting your chin to his cock.
you look up at him, your pretty eyes wet and red and tears running down from them, lips big, shiny, while your hand keeps stroking him.
it’s intimate, how he stares down at you.
the eye contact, in general.
his pretty face is red in the cheeks, lips parted, eyes half lidded(hottest thing a man can do with his eyes) as he stares down at you. his luring chest is moving fast, nipples hard and poking his shirt.
“you’re… you’re incredible.” he whispers. that was the only word he could find in this state really, and he’s right, you’re no less than incredible.
“thank you.” you take him back into your mouth, sucking harder this start.
your jaw is really starting to ache now, your throat hurts, but you keep bobbing your head, stroking the base or massaging his balls(oh that’s new, he closes one eye at that, grimaces in pleasure, and his eyes roll back).
his hand in your hair pulls, not even conscious that he’s doing it, holding your head in place as his hips start fucking into your mouth. not like, fucking, just tiny little pumps. because he’s so close.
and you’re going to let him cum. because that’s what good assistants do. they help. assist.
yeah he didn’t last long. you didn’t expect him to, though. his moans turn louder, higher, sweeter. “y/n, ahh— i’m— i’m gonna— fuck—”
changbin’s whole perfect body locks up, back arching off the fucking couch as he cries out the longest moan he has probably ever made. his eyes are closed in focus on his body, brows furrowed, his hips jerking up in tiny little thrusts as ropes of cum shoot on your tongue.
the taste is bearable. not as bad as chan’s or hyunjin’s was, you managed to swallow their loads too, but changbin’s is easier. you don’t have to gag it up here or hold anything back, it’s a little bitter but you can swallow it while still sucking on now just the head.
he keeps moaning through it. it’s so cute. his balls pulse visibly in your hand, contracting with each shot, emptying everything he’s been holding in for god knows how long.
when it ends he slumps back on the couch. chest moving fast, eyes closed(means he trusts you), lips open, trying to catch his breath, to adjust to the brutal orgasm he had.
you pull off slowly, swallowing what’s left in your mouth, gently stroke him through the aftershocks until he whines softly from the overstimulation, his hips squirming around.
then you stop, sit up straight, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, looking at his pretty face.
he opens his eyes. looks in front of himself. breathes. looks back at you with big eyes. dazed. “thank you. seriously. i don’t even know what to say.”
you lean in and kiss his cheek softly. even that’s professional from you and he can feel it, holy shit. “mm, you’re welcome.”
how that little kiss makes his heart react.
he laughs a little, shy, embarrassed, rubbing his face with both hands. “i lasted like… two minutes. i’m so sorry.”
“don’t be. i didn’t expect you to. you’ve been really stressed.”
and see how much nicer it is to talk to him? the others should sit down with notebooks and start writing.
“you’re really good at this. really. thank you.”
you chuckle(it’s a good technique, giving him only that) and stand up, stretching your legs. your jaw aches. your throat hurts like he poured boiling water down on it. okay that’s maybe an exaggeration, but anyways, for some reason you feel satisfied. just like when you were with chan for the first time. the second time with him, hyunjin an jeongin, weren’t satisfying at all. hyunjin was hot but didn’t make you feel fulfilled, only grew your ego. jeongin? pffftt don’t even start.
“thanks. i’m gonna go drink some water real quick, okay? stay here.” you ask in such a pretty voice.
“yeah, of course. take your time.”
you go to the kitchen, get yourself a glass of just lukewarm water, sip it slowly, staring at the fridge.
this was much better than the other experiences you had so far. less… chaotic. he’s genuinely sweet, even if he’s still a selfish man underneath it all. they all are. they take and take and take, but at least changbin was a pleasant experience. he’s naturally like that, maybe, but he would still deserve this release if he wasn’t.
when you come back to the living room, he has pulled his boxers an jeans back up(didn’t bother with the belt but has his jeans buttoned) he hesitates, then asks shyly “um… can i… do something for you too? i really want to make you feel good. if you’ll let me. i’m down for anything.”
what the fuck? one of these eight selflessly offering something? you’re genuinely touched. this really made him bigger in your eyes, and the cherry on top was his i’m down for anything, you actually feel, what? respect? maybe.
but you shake your head anyway. “not tonight, i’m really tired. i should go home and sleep. but thank you for offering. that was really sweet of you.”
“yeah, of course. i understand.” he looks a little disappointed, the actual fuck, but nods, respectful. okay daddy???
and you can tell he means it. he wants to return the favor, not just because he thinks he should or he wants to get something out of it(“i’m down for anything” anything has just going down on you and not getting anything from it in it) but because he’s attracted to you.
and i’m boutta fall off my chair he even walks you to the door like a gentleman, your best experience of a man following you to this door so far khm khm hyunjin trying to get some khm khm, and changbin wishes you would’ve stayed longer.
“thank you y/n, uh, thank you, stay safe, bye, thank you.” oh he means it.
the way he closes the door after you step out is gentlemanly too.
another one down. best experience so far. (chan would be punching his pillow if he knew about this)
changbin feels incredibly lucky. like unbelievably. more lucky than anything. his brain is releasing lots of good shit right now, bonding him harder to you, making him feel chemistry. he feels lighter from the orgasm too. this came really good for him now.
he knows most men in his position never get this, a beautiful, competent, emotionally intelligent woman who sees them and him this disgusting and still chooses to comfort them with her body and her kindness without asking for anything in return.
you’re actually an impressive woman. not just for your sex skills, but also for how you perform the next day. like nothing happened. you’re so good.
that’s nothing to hyunjin though. in the morning the second you walk into the practice room he waves you over with two fingers(this bitch), takes his little iced coffee from your hand. you always come with his iced coffee.
“morning, y/n.” he says, taking a sip. “you look tired. late night?” he stands next to you, both of you watching the other boys and some staff fuck around in the room, shoulder to shoulder without the shoulders actually touching, but really it’s because he doesn’t let you go. so he’s looking around the room, breathtaking. he smells good, expensive, luxury.
“mm.” you have minho’s coffee in your hand too, but he’s not here yet. “went to sleep just fine.”
“really? you’ve been busy lately.” he murmurs, looking around to make sure no one’s listening too closely. “helping a lot of people, huh?”
you just smile sweetly. “that’s my job.”
he huffs, a tiny little laugh, oh he wants you bad.
chan looks over at you. gives you an awkward hand raise. you wave back. hyunjin whistles next to you, seeing it. oh you want to hit him. but maybe… maybe in the playful smacking way now and not actually to death with a microphone.
meanwhile chan’s big mind is all why him and not me? why did you let jeongin inside you? it’s torturing him. poor thing.
changbin… acts really casual, good job baby. he’s a great actor. hyunjin standing next to you can’t even tell that anything happened last night at the very couch he sometimes beats his meat on.
he notices that changbin keeps looking at you with these grateful, almost lovesick eyes, but thinks it’s just a crush or whatever. sees that changbin wants to talk about something, assumes it’s for work.
oh his eye does twitch at jeongin giving you an enthusiastic little wave, though. also twitches at how sweetly you wave back. ugh, calm down, lovebirds. (you two are not even close, hyune)
later through he day even he’s not the only one fed up with jeongin being on your dick. han actually had to step in once with a “bro, come on, stop. sorry y/n.” but they love jeongin. so they tolerate it.
and it makes you bigger in their eyes, how you don’t react much, stay as professional.
okay now you got these four. already had four of these dicks in you, great.
and when i say the other staff has been noticing some shit. because the boys getting used to you isn’t subtle or in development anymore, how could it be? eight grown ass men, millionaires, grown fucking adults with international lives suddenly getting all close and friendly with their assistant.
for an example, you’re standing around checking shit for the boys when minho comes up to you, hums as a greeting, oh he loves to hear how formally you always (have to) greet him back, and he wraps both arms around your right one, and leans his entire weight on you. like a little standing up nap. you’re holding him up.
some older female staff walks by, does a double take, you give her a tired little shrug like what can i do? minho closes his eyes. grown man.
let’s not even mention the han bounce him incident.
or felix, because they know they can let themselves get comfortable with you and the staff’s job is to help them and not judge them so he’s supposed to do fuckwhat he wants, during something you have to watch over he walks up behind you, puts his chin on your shoulder, arms around your waist, sighs. “so tired.” he mumbles. stays like that for about ten minutes, silent, actually enjoying your body on his without the sexual way(though that’s why he came), later gets bored and wanders off. knows that other people from the outside view it as platonic.
other people also see how clingy jeongin is when you’re there, or helping him with something. ever since you fucked him he’s been unbearable. when you stand up to throw seungmin’s trash away jeongin tells you “don’t go far.” grown man. the other staff keep exchanging looks. figure he got attached in a platonic way. pfftt.
and oh, ooh, OOOOH when hyunjin the little whore sat in your lap. acted like it was joking around, as if he sat in one of the other guys’ laps, that unserious, but the way he spread his thighs and leaned back on your chest and got sleepy told a different story. he stayed there for a while, wiggling occasionally, until you finally pushed him off. pushed the guy off who’s dick you had in your mouth. let’s consider that you, someone this low compared to them, have the knowledge that you can push them around and no negative consequences will come meanwhile staff are supposed to obey to anything, is a huge word. you made this spot for yourself.
chan is not that touchy in front of people, thank fuck. so the staff has no business seeing any signs of attachment on him. that’s great.
changbin stops following you on the halls. no negative reason for that, absolutely not, it’s actually positive, he’s a little nervous. little bitch. you just sucked his dick so good that he’s thinking about you lots nowadays. doesn’t mean he completely doesn’t interact with you, like during one break he rested his head on your shoulder while pretending to look at your tablet, what you were doing on it. awww, okay binnie. but still, for now he’s still a little shy. like how does he even keep up a long conversation with you after that??
and oh seungmin hugged you after a bad day. not a quick little hug that would be like a bro hug with the others. more of a colleague hug, but he still wanted your body on his. he came back from a solo whatnot looking drained, saw you in the hallway, walked up, mumbled a hi, wrapped his skinny arms around you, face buried in your shoulder.
you hugged him back, rocked, bounced him a little. you’re good at this too.
and… people don’t usually hug him like that, adult people don’t usually hug like that, we’ve grown out of it, of giving these comforting hugs with the bouncing and rocking that we give to upset children, so it felt extra nice to him, extra comforting.
he held you tight for a while before pulling away and muttering “thanks” and raised his hand to another staff member walking past after he left you there. his dick is important to him but so is physical reassurance.
separation anxiety. not just from each other, they’ve always had that, years of shared trauma and just getting along in general and whatnot, but now it’s spreading to you. you make them feel safe in their skins. you don’t judge, you don’t demand, you help. you let them be what they can’t be to the public. so now they get… twitchy when you’re not in sight.
they need you, and that’s cute. or well, way cuter than the way they dgaf about your feelings.
the other staff have started with the “did you see how close she got with stray kids?” “han was in her lap again. bouncing. he’s twenty five.” “hyunjin rested his elbow on her shoulder, is he even allowed to do that?” “jeongin is on y/n all the time.” “what’s with the new assistant and bang chan going into rooms all the time and him coming out looking weird? are they fucking?” they don’t understand it. but they don’t say anything, the boys are the money makers, the ones who pay everyone’s salaries. you catch some looks but who cares.
and fuck’s sake boys, this is a workplace. a high pressure, multibillion dollar company, right? and you let them live their needs out. now it’s not just them being inappropriate, you’re actively enabling it. you’re also in the fault here, not just the boys taking advantage of you, because you consciously let them.
it’s unprofessional, wrong, ethically. legally. morally. if this ever got out, the company would put it as you seducing them. you’d be the villain, the slutty assistant who corrupted her innocent idols. you’d get fired, a case of inappropriate relationship with staff, even though they’re the ones initiating.
you’re the only woman in their close circle, it’s a massive power imbalance. you’re paid to be here. they’re your bosses. you’re under them. they’re so bad here. you’re not a saint either, but c’mon, we can all see the level of where you stand on the inappropriate scale and where do they.
well, but who cares, you take dick! changbin has been really worked up about his turn lately too. he feels really good. and so full of feelings. and he can’t keep it to himself.
what does that look like? it looks like him sitting next to han in one of the recording rooms(well not the booth, at where the others watch the one currently recording, fuck knows what they’re called) starts with a “hey… uh. can i tell you something?”
han raises his eyebrows, sipping his drink with one hand, his phone in the other. “what’s up?”
changbin looks around, then mumbles “dude, uh—” how does he even get this out? “y/n sucked me off too.” smiling ear to ear btw. “like she… like she was at my place and…” imitates how he held your hair.
han freezes with his drink to his mouth. his eyes go big, face in a :o shape. “no way. wait. for real? really?”
“yeah.”
“bro.” he slaps changbin’s arm, grinning like the fucking dipshit he is. “how was it? was she good? i’m so jealous it hurts. good for you, man. seriously. tell me everything.”
tell him everything he did.
then lix. both sitting on the floor against a wall, talking, tells him that “y/n gave me head. when hyune was gone, it was amazing.”
the smirk felix smirks. “no shit? really?” when binnie nods, lix leans his head back against the wall, smiling. “keep me updated, yeah? i’m happy for you, bro. how’d it feel?”
he gets it detailed too. oh they’re just giggling the fuck around.
he gets a “hm. nice.” from seungmin. a “what? congrats.” from minho. an excited “that’s awesome.” from jeongin. hyunjin didn’t even mind it, he kinda did the same thing, needed all details though. and then a “she did?” from chan paired with a big smile and a clap on bin’s shoulder with a “thanks for telling me.”
chan has to throw up.
only if you knew what you do to him, only if he fucking communicated.
changbin deals relatively good with what he got from you. for hyunjin, it just tied him to you more. chan, oh we know, it created this tension between you two. he wants you again. badly. he wants you the way innie had you(little shit told every single detail, but so did chan about his own turn, hyunjin, changbin), using him for your own pleasure too. he wants to feel wanted like that. he wants to be inside you so fucking bad it’s making him stupid. like actually sets him back during the day. but anyways, the point of this, is how jeongin didn’t take it well.
well, he took it very well, but that’s where the problem comes from. good boys wait and respect women, that’s what he has been always told. but… that’s just not him, is it? after having you and not currently being with you when you’re close to him and the boys, like you come to ask chan something and jeongin immediately stands up and stands next to you, anyways, then every few minutes he zones out and thinks of you on top of him, tits out, pussy sliding up and down his cock. he blushes randomly. he giggles to himself. he gets hard randomly and has to hide behind his hoodie.
his brain is pretty much “it wasn’t that bad, right? she wanted it. she was helping me. it’s not like i forced anything. god probably understands stress relief…” then forgets all about it he now knows what you feel like from the inside. well, kinda. condom. but he did have his face swimming in you, if that counts!
you don’t have any problems with this. oh even better, some people above you tell you that your salary has been raised. like significantly. it’s a fat raise. effective immediately.
fuck yes. fuck yes. fuck YES. all that dick sucking, ass spreading, patience is finally paying off in actual money. you deserve every single won. you’ve earned it.
and you don’t know this but some of the boys themselves made that happen. like chan. he made sure the higher ups knew how great you were. how hard you worked.
and, you won’t believe it, even hyunjin put in good words. but like… without anyone knowing. but take the fact that that evil little brat actually said something nice about you behind your back. duality of man, he still wants you bad but he also acknowledged that you make their lives easier. that you’re good at your job. maybe there’s a tiny human somewhere deep in there after all. okay there is a tiny human, who’s been hurt so much by the world already. that’s partly why you can never stay mad at him for long.
and… and minho was in it too. he said some good things when higher people asked how the new assistant was doing.
now that we’re at the hyunjin topic. kinda few nights after bin told him that you sucked him off too, they’re both at their dorm. the irritated situation faded by now, kinda.
anyways, they’re talking, hyunjin is on the couch, asks changbin “so where did she suck you off anyway?”
changbin points to the exact spot on the couch right next to where hyunjin got sucked off by you. “right there.”
hyunjin stares at the couch. then at changbin. then back at the couch. “you’re fucking kidding me.”
“what?”
hyunjin stands up, grabbing changbin in a headlock. “you little shit—on the same fucking couch? i’ll kill you.” average i’ll kill you user. update your boy vocabulary, hyunjin.
changbin laughs, trying to squirm away. “yah— stop— it just happened—”
they start choking each other the fucking dumbasses. rolling around on the couch which you’ve been on twice now, servicing different members.
that’s exactly why hyunjin just feels so… ugh. ugh. uuugghhghg!!!
he wants you now.
or more likely, next day. well, leaves you alone for most of the start of the day(except when you give him his morning coffee) all that until lunch.
the second he’s done eating his little whatever what makes him healthy, he stands up and goes to you. you, who doesn’t even eat fucking lunch because you don’t have the time to. and when you would have time, seungmin start screeching for something.
so, you’re as usual standing up and at your fucking work, just left your boys there they’re about to finish eating anyway, walking into a smaller little hallway to get to something. doesn’t even matter what, just that while you’re getting it, hyunjin walks up, leans one shoulder on the wall. stops and watches you.
“y/n. come over this afternoon.”
you look up at him. “this afternoon? hyunjin, you finish late today. you have that—”
“i’ll leave early. they won’t care. i’ll say i’m not feeling well. just… come over. please.”
his eyes are doing all the work. he’s learned how to use them. the little tilt of his head, the way his voice moves, he all learned to do this. he’s so fucking good at this.
you sigh. “it’s the middle of the day. people will notice if you dip.”
“let them notice.” he mutters. “i need you. now. not tonight. not later. just come over.”
his hand brushes your waist, light. okay, wait, hyunjin, unprofessional. stop.
“hyunjin, this is really not the time. this is one of the days that are completely full.”
those eyes. he’s an unfair little cunt. “please, y/n. i’m not asking for the whole night. just… an hour. two. i’ll leave and meet you at the dorm. it’ll just be us.”
i’ll just be us.
you hesitate.
“please don’t make me beg in the hallway.” he whispers. whispers. fuck he won.
humans are just mammals at the end of the day. advanced, self aware, language using mammals, all civilized and moral and evolved, but take away the suits and the contracts and the million dollars and we’re still animals. primates. things with the same basic want as every other creature that’s ever walked this planet. and what do mammals want more than anything? to fuck. to reproduce. to pass on their genes. that’s older than language, older than culture, older than shame.
every living thing wants to reproduce. bacteria split, flowers bloom and get pollinated, dogs hump legs, birds do dances, all of it with the same goal, to continue the species. humans are the only ones who turned it into something for pleasure, something that feels good even when it won’t make a baby. but still, we want to have sex as much as everything else does.
fuck. feel good. connect. release.
these boys have been denied that fucking basic need for years. constant training, diets, cameras in their faces, people watching their every move, dorms where privacy is a myth.
they’re young healthy males in their physical prime, and their bodies can’t get what it needs. of course they’re obsessed with you. of course they’re pushy and needy and disgusting.
their biology is fighting their environment.
now hyunjin especially. he’s sensitive under allat attitude. he feels everything deeply. and he got a taste of real, uncomplicated pleasure, your mouth, your body, how you let him be selfish, he needs it more now than he did the first time you sucked him off because his body, his mind, remembers how good it felt. how for a few minutes he wasn’t an idol, he was just a man getting his dick sucked.
he’s a mammal who found a safe source of dopamine and oxytocin. of course he’ll want that all the time now.
“fine.” you say quietly. defeated in your tone. “text me when you leave. but only for a couple hours, i mean it.” aren’t you the assistant here? who are you to tell him what to do?
he doesn’t seem to mind though. he smiles. it’s pretty. “thank you.”
he steps back, gives you one last long look, fucking buys you right there, and walks away. midday fuck negotiated.
he really wants to take you back to the dorm in his car but even he isn’t that stupid. getting caught with his assistant slipping into the passenger seat in the middle of the afternoon would be career suicide. so he waits. texts you about two hours later, needy little shit.
hyunjin: come over now. i left. door’s unlocked. just walk in.
you do, still wearing your work clothes, bag slung over your shoulder, drop it off next to the door too. hyunjin’s there, leaning on the wall in home clothes(what he wants to seem like home clothes, so a black hoodie, gray sweats, hair messy but he really made his hair stand like this because when he’s actually comfy at home then his whole head is flat and he’s in underwear only. performative dickhead)
he watches you take your shoes off with this stupid little smile on his face with his eyebrows raised. he can’t take you seriously anymore. you’re just… cute. like aw you’re taking your shoes off, what else big girl things can you do?? sweetpea.
that’s why the second you’re fully upright he’s on you, grabs your face with both hands and kisses you hard.
and even with chan you hesitated to kiss. you didn’t kiss the other two either. and that was for a very good reason.
even though he forced himself on you, you kiss back, because he’s good at it. because you want it. because he tilts your head exactly how he wants, sucking on your bottom lip, then licking into your mouth, wanting to taste you. wanting to taste his assistant.
his body presses you forward, pushing you back until you’re on the wall. almost like he tries to physically force you to want him as much as he wants you right now.
it works.
damn he knows how to kiss. slow deep strokes of his tongue, little bites on your lip, tilts his head to get even deeper.
“mmh—” you make that sound into his lips, surprised at how fast he’s moving.
while he’s still kissing you, tongue fucking your mouth while you two could be getting down to it already because you have to get back, one of his hands leaves your face, down your body, cups your pussy over your jeans, and squeezes. gropes.
you pull back from the kiss with a gasp. “h— slow the fuck down, dude—”
hyunjin laughs on your mouth, lips brushing yours as he keeps rubbing you over your jeans, now looking into your eyes.
with big, shining, beautiful eyes.
“why?” he murmurs, his lips drop the uptilt. he looks serious. “you came here for this, didn’t you? don’t act shy now.”
he kisses you again. trying to make you soak through the denim, moving his fingers, really groping into you. his tongue is back in your mouth, licking and sucking, smiling into you when you… oh fuck off y/n, why are you humping his hand??
he feels a lot because of that, because of you. feels a lot in general. relief that you came, frustration that he had to wait, greed now that he finally has you in his palm. he’s so hard already.
part of you is annoyed at how fast he’s moving, how entitled he is, how he thinks he can just summon you in the middle of the day and grope you. but really, he doesn’t just think it, because he’s right. but of course the other part is for liking how bad he wants you. how desperate he is. how this beautiful, famous, rich, sensitive boy needs you now and you have him like this.
so you kiss him back, biting his lip, and he moans into your mouth.
he wants to bend you over their couch so the legacy goes on, wants to hear you moan for him, wants to prove he’s better than the others. he wants everything for himself.
this of course goes back to being better than other men. dick comparing is something no man can really shake off, no amount of evolution will get rid of that for us. so it’s not just his needs and traumas calling for you, but also his dumb little man mindset. hyunjin is a man.
but underneath all that lustful asshole football watcher behavior is that he’s scared. scared you like them more, scared you’re not a forever thing, not because he likes you, but because he likes his dick and his dick’s important to him. this is all just being selfish. so he kisses you to make you stay with him, trying to be good enough, desperate enough, pretty enough, that you’ll keep coming back to him.
“missed you.” he mutters.
oh?
he squeezes you again but harder, leans in to bite your bottom lip, then pulls away. “gonna fuck you today, y/n.”
this asshole. this prick. this heartless evil cunt.
also the dickhead that you let pick you up.
yeah hyunjin slides his hands under your thighs, lifts you off the floor, and you wrap your legs around his waist. not a thought crosses your mind. none of them has ever done this to you yet. he even carries you down the short hallway to his room(okay that makes sense why other reason would he pick you up for if not to carry you somewhere). breathing hard into your mouth, groan, growl, finally having you in his arms is both relief and rage.
why the fuck are you attracted to him?
who cares, he kicks his bedroom door open, carries you inside, drops you onto his bed. you bounce once on the mattress, looking up at him. you look so good.
he turns around, walks back to the door, shuts it. the sound itself is intimate.
then he’s back, crawling up the bed like a predator, trying to ignore the feeling of his boner, and when he’s hovering over you, he kisses you again.
his body lowers onto yours, chest pressing to your tits, hips settling between your spread thighs. you’re into the kiss too, lips sucking, little moans coming from his throat into your mouth and neck. your body is reacting to him even while your brain is calling him every name in the book.
he bites your bottom lip, then soothes it with his tongue, then presses lots of fast little smooches on your mouth before kissing it lovingly. fuck his ass where did he learn that from.
he wants to feel your nipples harden right in his palm, only fantasizes about it for now, though. for some reason he doesn’t have any sense of urgency when it comes to sex.
even though he’s so hard it has to hurt.
his hands go down, gripping your ass, really having a grip on you to pull you up to his hips, to his cock so he can grind into you. he uses you. his breathing is ragged, little moans slipping out between kisses, he can’t hold them back.
he wants you so bad. he wants to be inside you. he wants to hear your noises.
you tug his hair. he groans, hips stopping, smiling into the kiss.
but he’s hard and impatient, doesn’t want to waste precious seconds he could be using to get you naked. his hands are moving down to your shirt, fingers fumbling with the buttons. he yanks at the fabric, pops a couple buttons in his rush, fighting the material off your shoulders, it’s keeping him from what he wants. he’s actually violent.
you help him a little, shrugging it off.
then he’s at your bra, unhooks it(needs both hands, the baby) pulls it down your arms, and when your tits are out, bare and heavy in your boss’s room, his eyes actually change. you watch his reaction, how he smacks his mouth a tiny tiny bit, how his eyebrows drop, how unclear his pretty eyes are. he stares like he’s never seen tits before, and he’s seen lots.
he fights himself up in a comfortable position to grope your tits. squeezes, hard, enjoys how his palms are full of flesh, whining a little at how your nipples do harden in the middles of his palms.
he’s rough. not cruel on purpose, just so fucking eager and horny that he doesn’t notice how hard he’s handling you. his fingers dig in, kneading, pulling, pushing your tits together. it hurts, but you’re here for work anyway. this is your job(def not).
his hands can barely leave your tits so that he can go down and undo, yank your pants down your hips with rough tugs, dragging your panties with them. just pulls, forces until they’re off your legs. and then he reaches down and tugs your socks off too, one by one, tossing them somewhere behind him.
“better.” he mutters.
so you’re naked now. completely. lying on his bed with your legs slightly spread while he kneels between them, still fully dressed, staring at your pussy.
he looks like someone ripped his hair and yanked his head around.
he grabs your thighs and yanks them apart so hard your hips lift off the bed for a second. leans down, spits on your pussy, then buries his face in it. shakes his head around like a dog with a toy. no focus on making you feel good, just rubs his whole face in your wetness, tongue flapping around in you, nose grinding against your clit, lips sucking randomly at your folds.
he thinks it feels good for you. it doesn’t. it’s just overwhelming, too much pressure in random places, his tongue missing your clit more than it hits it.
but you moan anyway, soft, sweet, because that’s what he needs right now. you’re here to help. you’re here to let him feel like a man.
after about a minute he pulls back, breathing hard, lips shiny with you. he looks fucking wild again like he has fucking rabies, then… goes soft again. not gentle exactly, but charming. he crawls up your body, hovering over you, and kisses you.
“you’re so pretty like this.” he murmurs into your mouth, hand sliding down to cup your pussy again, now his fingers slipping through the wet mess left there. “you missed this too, didn’t you? missed me.” he’s nice because he wants to be nice, this is on purpose. “c’mon, look.”
that look was for how he helps you move, gentle???, pulling you up, you’re fucking speechless, guiding you onto your knees, pulling your ass up to him.
he runs his hands over your back, down the curve of your spine, then grips your ass and spreads you open, staring, looking around, getting to know you there.
you arch your back a little more, pushing your ass toward him, letting him look. if you’re here, might as well go along with it.
hyunjin moans behind you, hands spreading you wider, deciding where to start.
shit. you’re really letting this prick hit.
“hm? no condom?” he asks, his eyes all up in your pussy.
“condom.”
he sighs. “seriously?”
“yes, seriously.”
he makes an annoyed little sound but obeys. slaps your ass once, hard, childish, then climbs off the bed.
you stay on your knees, ass up, listening to him rummage through one of his drawers, slap shit around.
“where the fuck did i put them…” he mutters, opening and closing drawers. “i swear i had some right here.”
you turn your head, cheek on the sheets, watching him. he’s so pretty.
“check the that drawer again. no, that one. the top one. you probably threw them in there since didn’t need it jerking off last night.”
hyunjin snorts, digging. “shut up. i don’t jerk off that much.”
“sure you don’t.”
he finds the box finally, shakes it triumphantly. “got them. see? i’m prepared.”
“woow.” in the flattest voice ever.
he laughs, walking back to the bed. on the way he reaches out and caresses your ass with one hand. and that’s not even about the it’s not about you mindset, he genuinely just wanted to do that for you. he finds you sweet, after all. you gained his respect and his liking towards you.
he climbs back on the bed, yanks his shirt over his head in with one hand, tossing it somewhere. his pants and underwear next, shoved down his thighs and kicked off. the socks stay on.
he pumps his cock once, twice, slow, genuinely just lazy, just again no sense of urgency, watching your ass. then he tears open the condom packet and rolls it on, giving it a few strokes too.
“happy now?” he asks with fake annoyance as he settles behind you again.
“ecstatic.”
he laughs and slaps your ass again. “good.”
he lines himself up, pretty head pressing into your entrance, fucks the tip only in two or three times, then pushes in slowly.
bottoms out with a long, satisfied moan, putting his hands on your love handles. there we go.
he’s skinny but longer than you remembered from your mouth. makes your eyes shut and your mouth fall open in a little o. he feels better than he did in your throat. deeper. fuller.
you moan. he’s good, feels good.
what is hyunjin if not an impatient little bitch though, he adjusts his grip on your hips and starts fucking you.
“that’s it.” he mutters, clapping his hips with yours.
you two are, even if not always seriously, half the time kinda just playfully, but always at each other’s throats. yet the second he’s inside you, your bodies just work. he fits. the angle is perfect. the way he moves feels so good, you’re getting fucking goosebumps.
his hips snaps to your ass, his pretty cock dragging in and out of you, rough, uncontrolled. hits so good but it’s all about his pleasure. everytime he bottoms out you feel his smooth balls slap your clit. he’s so deep it almost hurts, makes your eyes roll back.
you’re moaning. actually moaning. not the ones you give the others to stroke their egos, this dumb fuck’s cock actually makes you act like this. you’re drooling a little, that’s how good it feels.
hyunjin is too focused to give more sounds that his loud breathing and little moans tome to time. just chasing his own pleasure.
“fuuuuck. mhm, mhm, yeah.” okay hyunjin.
his hips go harder, faster, the sound of skin on skin getting louder, snappier. you’re moaning into his sheets, pussy fluttering around his long cock. it missed him too. the chemistry is insane between you two, disgustingly.
his low, breathy groans turn into these pretty whimpers slowly. soft little “ah— ahh—” everytime he bottoms out. he feels so good, you make him feel so good.
it’s so fucking animal. hyune’s back is straight as a rod, shoulders rolled back, head fallen forward so his messy hair hangs in his eyes. he uses your handles to handle and pull you back onto his cock with every brutal thrust. selfish, grunting, a man.
the sound of his hips slapping on your ass fills the room. rhythmic, obscene, is the right word. porn like.
you’re melting away. your face is pressed into his sheets, mouth open, eyes unfocused at how he slams his pretty cock into you over and over. you feel just as good as he does, makes your spine give up and fall into his hands better, melt with hyunjin.
heavenly sounds come from hyunjin. groans, breathy whimpers, little gasps, moans. he’s so bitchy and pretty and almost vulnerable. he’s letting himself feel how good you are.
he feels like the fucking king. hwang hyunjin, the visual, the untouchable pretty boy, the one everyone wants but no one really gets close to, balls deep in his own assistant. his employee. the powerimbalance is hitting every single button he has. you’re beneath him in the hierarchy. you work for him. and you’re letting him fuck you the middle of the day because he asked.
it makes him feel better. it makes him feel desired, not how the cameras or fans or fans do, because that’s all fake, and this is real. human in human. sex.
and you just calmed him down. hyunjin is calm. you, just again, made an idol forget about his soul crushing problems.
you, just again, are the best.
he adjust his grip your hips, pulls you back onto his cock with every thrust, watching how your ass ripples, how your pussy slips around his length, how you’re dripping for him. his ego is swelling bigger than his dick. it’s toxic. it’s ugly. it’s human nature. it’s exactly what he needs to feel like a man instead of just a pretty face.
he speeds up. fast. selfish. his hips snap against your ass with wet slaps. he loves to listen to it, to chase it, your pussy, the way you flutter and squeeze around him, the way your moans get higher and breathier.
his cock feels amazing inside you. reached deep, hitting such good spots. your eyes are rolling back you’re so glad you took this job.
he’s leaking so much into the condom it might just pop. but would that be so bad? yours and his genes together into some deadbeat asshole baby? why not, actually.
his sounds are fucking heavenly. now all his little sounds are moans, not anything else. that pretty voice of his, what he can do almost everything with, now is just animal noises as he fucks you, fills you. it tells you without words how good you feel, how he never wants to stop.
your arms are shaking, barely holding you up. your mouth is open, drooling onto his sheets, soft desperate moans coming from it.
you’re not even trying to perform anymore like you did with all of them until now, you’re just taking it. that’s what you’re good for.
here, with you, he doesn’t have to be perfect. he can be mean. he can be selfish. he can be desperate and loud and pathetic and you still let him.
he gives all of his into fucking you. like he would go faster but he can’t. it’s physically impossible, his hips are pounding to your ass, cock dragging perfectly along your walls, balls slapping on your skin, his endlessly skilled hands pulling you back(fuck it feels so good) to get the most of you he can.
his body is saying everything for him.
and neither of you has any fucking clue that while hyunjin is lost in the feeling of you, head fallen forward, back now hunched a bit, and you’re you’re melting into the mattress as this animal fucks you, the front door clicks open.
keys jingle. shoes get kicked off.
changbin steps inside.
he stops. are those… your shoes? right next to the door. and… your bag? the fuck?
he listens. hears the moaning. hyunjin’s, mostly, but yours too. softer. the unmistakable sound of someone getting fucked.
oh how your voice makes his tummy flip.
he stands there. mouth slightly open. face going through about fifteen emotions in three seconds.
…fuck’s sake.
hyunjin doesn’t hear a thing. he’s too deep in his own head, to deep in you.
he locks up. his hips stutter as he tries to instinctively pump his cum into you, up, up, up, but the condom stops that from happening.
“ahh, fuck— yeah! ahh…”
he buries himself deep one last time and stays there. he’s satisfied, relieved, the weeks of frustration are finally draining out of him.
he gives your ass one hard slap, mutters a “fuck yeah” then pulls out.
just like that.
he peels the condom off, ties it, gets up, throws it in some trash, then starts pulling his clothes back on.
no aftercare, mind you.
you’re still on your knees, ass up, pussy throbbing and aching and empty.
you were close. actually close.
you sigh, so tired, and start dressing too. whatever. you’re not about to touch yourself in hyunjin’s room. not today.
“thanks.” he says. “needed that.”
“hm.” you button your shirt, fix your hair in the mirror. your pussy is still wet and just soooo frustrated, clit throbbing, but you shove it down. professional. always professional.
hyunjin pulls his hoodie back on, his boner had gone down too, and gives you one last look. “bye.” with a little wave.
fuck’s sake. this dickhead. you mutter a bye out too, then leave. get your shoes, your bag, no idea that binnie came home since thqt.
a couple minutes pass.
hyunjin sighs, does that dipshit thing men do where they slap both of their thighs before standing up and acting like it’s hard, then walks into the kitchen, opens the fridge, and grabs one of his fuckass little straw drinks. imagine some overpriced vitamin water with a bright pink straw. really the cherry on top. he stabs the straw in, takes a sip, and closes the fridge door.
then changbin walks in.
silence.
changbin stops in the doorway. hyunjin stops midsip. their eyes meet.
they both know. changbin knows hyunjin just fucked you in the room right down the hall. hyunjin knows changbin knows. changbin knows hyunjin knows that changbin knows.
hyunjin raises both eyebrows slowly, then walks to changbin, but really just to walk past him. while walking past, hyunjin claps bin on the shoulder lighty, still loudly sipping his stupid little drink through the stupid little straw with a sluuuuuurp.
changbin stands there, staring in front of himself.
hyunjin walks into his room, orgasm achieved, shared assistant cracked, dresses up, gets his shit, then leaves. goes back to work.
you both do. fucking professionalism at its finest. you’re an expert at acting like you weren’t bent over hyunjin’s bed getting your soul fucked out less than an hour ago. hyunjin is fresh and glowing and annoying as ever, waving at everyone. oh bitch please.
but he doesn’t even glance at you more than normal. professionalism. you appreciate that.
when he needs water he says “y/n” in the exact same tone as always. when you hand it to him he takes it with a “thanks” and nothing more. it’s impressive how well both of you are acting.
so good that the others don’t suspect a thing. well, you didn’t notice them do, but maybe mainly because jeongin was following you around.
you catch hyunjin’s eye once across the practice room. he raises one eyebrow, then looks away like nothing happened. you go back to giving the others things. wipe minho’s sweat with a towel yourself.
the next day he already tells the others about it. during some break in one of the smaller practice rooms, while everyone’s sprawled on the floor drinking water and whatever they have to, hyunjin sitting against the wall, jeongin on his phone, han lying on his back staring at the ceiling and deep in his sad little thoughts, felix scrolling, he has a double chin it’s so adorable and hot, changbin is texting a friend, chan is staring in front of himself, so does minho but he’s drinking water while at it, and seungmin is also texting someone.
“oh yeah, by the way. yesterday afternoon me and y/n fucked.”
…
why is he an animal?
okay anyways han sits up with a “really?!”
jeongin’s head snaps up from his phone, the exact expression like from that clip where the others were saying peaches and he heard bitches or for whatever reason he acted like that then. “what?”
felix smiles ear to ear. “how?” which is their way of saying details, dude.
oh hyunjin loves this. mentally giggling and kicking his feet around. “from the back. i was like, invited her over, and she was immediately down for it—“ no you weren’t, you told him a hundred times that you two are busy. “—and i had her on all fours on my bed. y’know, i wrapped it up, she was moaning like crazy. it felt so good. it was—“ he leans forward, it pretty cute because all eight do with him, while he whispers “tight. she was tight. we fucked for like… an hour.” ten minutes max, hyune.
changbin is… staring at the floor, smiling. chan has his mouth open(he’s not upset about hyunjin fucking you. for some reason??). minho gives “mhm”s from time to time. seungmin audibly giggles. felix is leaning forward still, mouth open, smiling too. jeongin feels… something bad, or maybe good?, in his stomach, chest. han is staring with such huge eyes.
“i had her back arched so nice. she was moaning like ahh ahh—“ why is he fucking hilarious “—best fuck i’ve had in months. maybe ever.” he puts his hands up, then slaps them down on his thigh.
and the congratulations he gets. shoving, laughing, asking about details, slapping on him. why are men like this?
the thing is, only you actually (kinda) dislike hyunjin. only you hated him. he never hated you. he just looked down on you.
all of them did, at the beginning, we know that. they saw you as useful, sure, but not as a full person. not as a woman with her own thoughts and feelings and desires. you were convenient. reliable. there. as we clearly fucking know, hyunjin especially treated you like that.
it felt like hate to you because it was dismissive and mean. but to him it was just… normal. that’s what you deserved as a pretty female staff member. you weren’t on his level.
now he’s starting to actually perceive you. somewhere between the first blowjob and yesterday, he kinda got that you’re not just a warm hole, you’re a person. a woman. you’re funny. nice to be around.
and hyunjin is really sensitive. and like, he kinda knows that you saw the worst of him (the tantrums, the mean shit he threw at your head that he still very much thinks about) and you still let him fuck you. you still let him be a man.
he’s starting to like you. not just want you, like you. he especially really likes that you don’t beg for his attention but still give him yours. that you’re confident and in control. it turns him on.
he’s starting to see you as good company.
also, someone whose presence doesn’t drain him.
he’s starting to like you.
okay yeah, we talked a lot about jeongin following you and being on your dick metaphorically and sometimes literally trying to be, but how does that actually look like?
it looks like 10am, when you’re refilling the bottles of the boys who use bottles when jeongin stands next to you.
“hi y/n.”
“hi. you need something?”
“mmmm not really. no.”
you sigh, shove his bottle into his hand. “here. drink.”
“thanks.” manages to drink with two hands on the bottle. you watch the whole thing.
point of this was, he came to you with no idea what he wanted. no point of that conversation.
or you’re walking down the hallway carrying towels for the boys and jeongin fucking appears out of fucking nowhere, matching your pace.
“hey y/n.” he says, happy to see you. he glances left and right quickly, checking for staff, then steps a tiny bit closer. “you need help with those? they look heavy.” he tries to look manly.
“i’m good, thanks though.”
he nods, walks beside you, hands in his hoodie pocket, sneaking little looks at your face. his cheeks are pink.
then he tilts his head. left, right. pokes his mouth to the side. “you’ve been running around all day, don’t you get tired?” (that’s such a basic thing to say, well yes it is, it’s because he couldn’t think of anything better to say. just made the fastest small talk that came into his mind. we appreciate his effort though, keep it up, innie)
“sometimes. but it’s fine.”
he hums, then does that thing where he “accidentally” lets the back of his hand brush yours. he pulls it away fast when he hears footsteps ahead, every little touch, every minute of your attention feeds that new addiction in him.
the others are starting to get visibly irritated.
another time, during a long waiting period, you’re sitting on a couch, ordering something for seungmin because he shoved his card into your hand and asked you to do it(let’s not even talk about how much he trust you to give you his money like that) and jeongin sits down next to you. he looks around first, making sure noone is paying attention, then relaxes a little.
“long day, huh?” he says, again just having no idea what to say but really wanting to talk to you.
“yeah. you holding up okay?”
he shrugs. “better now.” okay flirt.
“i’m glad.” you’re not being dry on purpose, just staying professional.
by the way, you always being this calm and neutral towards them turns them on so much. makes you so hot in their eyes.
he nods, then sneaks his hand between you two on the couch, letting his pinky brush yours. it’s such a small touch but it’s rebellious for his career.
when someone walks past he pulls his hand back instantly, acting like he was just stretching. waits for your reaction. you, to not leave him hanging, raise your brows at him, and that’s it. oh he got what he wanted. well, what he really wants is probably a handy but he’s also satisfied with any microreaction.
or you’re waiting for the elevator and fuck’s sake jeongin walks up next to you, checking the hallway both ways before stepping closer.
“hey. you heading out soon?” he asks.
“yeah, after i drop these papers off.”
he nods, then after making sure the coast is clear, stands against the wall next to the elevator. “cool. um… i was thinking. maybe next time you come over we could watch something? not like… not like a date or anything. just… hang out.”
“mm, i’m not sure. not a no, just, y’know, i’m busy too.”
“okay. just thought i’d ask.” he mumbles, looking away, so trying to look nonchalant. “anyways, you sleep okay last night? you look… good. rested, i mean.” this asshole. insert that video back from years ago when the whole crowd slapped on their foreheads. (this)
“i slept fine. you?”
“yeah! i mean, kinda. kept thinking about… stuff. but it was good stuff.” he smiles shyly, then catches himself and looks around. you want to kick him he’s that pathetic.
he genuinely really just wants to have a good relationship with you now. wants you to like him.
“talk to you later?” he asks, hopeful.
“yeah, later.”
you’re so glad he didn’t go into the elevator with you, then there would be hellevator. just watch him go back to the others, stealing one last glance over his shoulder. you want to slap his head back forward.
this dumb bitch is going to get you fired one day. why is he like this? why are they all like this? you sucked his dick once and now he thinks you’re married. fucking dipshit.
and… jeongin doesn’t consciously think “y/n is my girlfriend.” but his instict is treating you like one, he’s treating you like one. you’re the person he wants to show off for, flexing his biceps because oh girls like that, telling you about his day, trying to look cool, the person he gets excited to see. and being near you makes the constant pressure, the fear of not being good enough, the loneliness in his head disappear for a bit.
which would be so much easier if seungmin wouldn’t have developed a habit, very bold habit of letting his hand find your ass whenever he thinks he can get away with it.
???
it happens multiple times a day now. during breaks, in hallways, when you’re handing him something, he’d feel up a palmful of you, appreciating it, or slapping it, then acts like nothing happened. like oh that wasn’t him. did anything even happen? you okay y/n?
creep.
ooookay you’re not even mad anymore. you’ve accepted it, lowkey workplace harassment but you consent.
and like… you do have a great ass.
he wants to fuck it. he wants to eat it. he wants to slap it red and watch it jiggle while he rails you from behind. he wants to cum on it, watch it drip down between your cheeks, then push it back inside with his fingers or cock or wait do you have toys? okay he’ll explore that fantasy later. he wants to make you sit on his face, smother him with it while he eats you from behind. he wants to leave marks on it, handprints, bite marks, the imprint of his hips. he wants to watch it bounce while you ride him reverse cowgirl. he wants to use it, squeezing and spreading and slapping whenever he feels like it. he’s obsessed with the way it moves when you walk. the way it looks when you bend over. the way it feels in his hand, perfect to grip. once he was actually close to nutting hands free just from imagining burying his face between your cheeks and motorboating them while you moan.
sometimes, when he thinks noone’s looking, he adjusts himself in his pants just because he looked at your back side.
fucking men and their ass fixation.
fucking men and their skills. their abilities. what they learned, how to use their eyes on you. they learned it from years of fanmeets, stages, cameras, they’ve been trained for years how to look at fans, the “i’m looking at you but only you” stare.
now they want you to feel what their fans feel.
once with felix you were handing him a new shirt he asked for from his bag(again, trust that he just lets you dig around in there, but the seungmin letting you have basically all his money in your hand is still bigger) when he(still talking about felix) grabbed both of your hands, exactly like he does with fans at fanmeets and looked up at you with the most angelic, charming eyes, thumbs stroking the backs of your hands.
“thank you so much.” he said, smiling that practiced heartfluttering smile, voice soft and intimate like you were the only girl in the universe. “you always take such good care of me.”
you almost laughed in his face.
you immediately go it that he was using his fan service technique on you. the same one he uses on every other person. it didn’t affect you.
“felix, i’m not buying lightsticks.”
he realized what he was doing, yes he wasn’t conscious that he slipped, so he didn’t even want to, then he dropped your hands and laughed awkwardly, muttered out a “force of habit.”
if you were anyone else, he would have started to explain himself with the speed of light. but with you he knows he doesn’t need to. that’s pretty sweet, after all.
this also happened with minho. he, also did it on accident. he was tired. really tired. not the tired that he was about to fall out his chair, just slow in the head.
you handed him water and suddenly he gave you the biggest, shiniest, most angelic smile you’ve ever seen. eyes sparkling, head tilted, voice so forced “thank you so much, y/n~ you’re always so kind.” he caught himself. the smile dropped instantly. he looked at you. you looked at him. he mumbled “…never mind. sorry.” even he looked slightly disturbed by it.
they’re all trained manipulators. years of it. they know exactly how to use their eyes, their voices, their bodies to make people feel things. and now they’re using it on you, constantly. little looks. their angelic voices. touches. little head tilts with biiiiiig eyes when they want you to feel special.
they want you to want them. they want you to choose them. it’s unconscious at this point. survival instinct and genuine longing both in the soup.
this annoys you, kinda. but you can deal with it. it’s your job, after all, this is what got you that payment raise. and oh it’s also your job to having to listen to how loud they always are.
not just yelling your name when they need something, they’re fucking hootin and hollerin around and scream at each other and laugh like fucking animals and wrestle on the floor.
but they also can be cute. okay, there, you admitted it, but it was sweet seeing hyunjin and jeongin lying on the floor together, just kind of cuddling. didn’t these bitches exclusively complain about physical touch? okay fuck cares men are weird. they do this. they need the physical comfort. they just don’t call it that.
(afterwards they pushed each other away and “dude you’re annoying—“ “bro leave me alone—“ “ew—“ “get off me—“)
another time you were talking with chan who was sitting in a spinning chair, han in his lap. he had his arms around chan’s neck, chin on chan’s shoulder, eyes closed.
“you made sure they sent the updated ones, right?” chan’s saying to you about some business bullshit.
you nod. “yes. i double checked this morning. uh, they also confirmed the fitting time. they can do thursday. you’re fine.”
you like how serious chan is now. like yes daddy be that serious while spanking me. “okay. bin won’t be in until the afternoon on friday, can you—“
“yeah, i’ll call them right now.” oh you know your shit.
chan nods, satisfied. like so satisfied. only another blowjob could satisfy him more than this. his hand rubs han’s back. “thanks, y/n.“
horrible little hoes.
and they know they’re horrible. if one of them was a girl, they literally wouldn’t date each other. they know too much of the others, too many sides seen. too much ego. they accept it. they love each other but if they had daughters then they wouldn’t let the others date her. in general they’d sooner kill the other than let them close to any family member of theirs romantically, that’s how much they know of each other and how conscious they are that they’re not ethically good people.
hyunjin’s prick ass(but at least he can pay the bills) is their the pick to keep away from any female in their lives. anyways, he’s better now. like, his general mental health. it’s still pretty shitty, but better. you helped a lot. his balls feel lighter, his shoulders feel looser, because someone finally drained the constant panic and pressure out of his nervous system.
he feels powerful. validated. like he finally got what was “his.” but really he’s just really softening up. he’s starting to see how gentle you treat him, how much you take from him, that actually feels good for him. it’s such a good feeling that you basically accept him this much. hm, he should go find you now too.
bad side of this, is that he’s sensitive as fuck now. everytime he sees you his body reacts, and that’s only natural, that’s the right thing happening here, but still, it’s not always pleasant having his cock twitching and his chest feeling tight and beating.
him and changbin have talked about this, actually. shared their feelings. and they can… relate to each other.
changbin specifically is really in his head, really proud of what he got from you. like he can’t stop thinking about your warm mouth, the way you looked up at him while sucking him, how you treated him.
he wakes up hard in the morning just because you’re in his mind so much nowadays. he has to jerk off in the shower just to function.
men jerking off omfg hottest thing ever. binnie is the hottest thing ever. all eight are the hottest things ever and you know it and you feel so good about your position.
but it’s not just physical, emotionally he feels cared for. you’re a great woman. you’re healing old wounds(he didn’t even know were still bleeding, and still doesn’t know).
he wants your mouth again. he wants your hands. he wants to bury his face between your legs and make you feel even half as good as you made him feel.
…is this a crush we see developing, changbin??
anyways, we’ll get back to the developing crush topic, but we need to talk about jeongin too. jeongin, who wants to be near you all the time.
he wants to show you things. he wants to make you laugh. he wants to you to notice how strong he is.
because this is consistent, kind female attention. fans scream for him but they don’t know him. you do. you let him inside you. you were so accepting and nice. it was such a good sexual experience.
his brain takes you as “someone who wants me for real.” but so decides to forget about the fact that you didn’t like, kiss him at all. asshole. but anyways he’s living in the fantasy that you might actually like him back.
and okay, shit, it’s… nice. really nice. having someone this rich and famous want to spend time with you, touch you, let you touch him. you like this situation too, if you ignore that you can barely go pee without him wanting to watch you do it. (it’s a hilarious fucking picture omfg imagine you just WANTING to pee and this fuckass standing in the stall with you and staring down at you wordlessly. maybe tapping his two hands on his thighs. this fucking dipshit oh how we love him)
then chan… well, chan feels… a lot.
he finds you beautiful.
not just hot, beautiful. makes his chest feel tight, dare i say, makes him lose his breath. he sees worth in you, he begins to. he sees someone who could stand next to him. he wishes he could fuck you without feeling like his heart is trying to climb out of his chest.
he’s not mad or jealous or any other similar negative feeling at jeongin or changbin or hyunjin, after all. it comes off as that at first but it always fades, because he’s just… sad. that gives a negative start to everything, the main in him is sad. sad that he complicated it. sad that he made it heavy. sad that you had to be the mature one and stop him.
he wants you again. bad. he wants you the way jeongin had you, the way the kid told the story made it such a fantasy, and he also wants you the way hyunjin had you because c’mon chan is born for doggystyle.
and also, he wants to hold you after. he wants to be the one you choose when you’re tired.
that’s also a fantasy of his, maybe he could be your stress relief. reverse the situation what you two were in, he could be between your legs and he could take all this stress off your shoulders. doesn’t that sound nice?
it does, to him. like drooling nice. like he actually had to catch the drool slipping out of his mouth once when he was in his head about this particular scenario. it got on his shirt. fuck.
but he’s getting better with time. the tension, having to throw up in his stomach is loosening. he’s starting to realize and accept that you belong to all of them, kinda, and that will change in the future, and that’s okay. that this is your choice. he respects it. he respects you. there we go, from not even remembering the new little assistant’s name, to respect. or maybe a crush, even.
no, not a crush, please. he’s terrified of that.
but he can’t stop it. everytime he sees you he has to smile. every time you smile at him he feels like the best boy out of all of them. fuck, he can only hope you don’t prefer the others over him, like maybe felix. (all of them are afraid that your favorite is felix, that’s just so natural to come for everyone and everything they know, always felix)
he’s falling.
that’s the right word, chan is falling.
for his assistant.
for who you show to them, and for the version of you that only he got glimpses of. the one that helped him with more than just bringing him water. but he knows it’s not emotional for you. and he’s trying to be okay with that. but even if he never gets to have you the way he wants, you’ve already given him more than anyone else ever has.
it only took having his dick sucked twice. he overestimated his ability to stay unattached.
so, after all, all four of them are scared that they’re developing workplace crushes and they know how bad that is. this isn’t school, this isn’t pass a note in class, this is real life with real consequences. contracts. reputations. millions of fans. companies. a crush here isn’t cute. it’s just… danger to them, it could end careers, it could end yours, it could blow up the entire group.
but they can’t stop it.
they have, what? years of suppression? for sure. then also access to a new human connection, and constant stress, attractive and competent and sexually available woman. they’re latching onto you.
and those are just the ones who have fucked you.
the other four that haven’t, the other half of the group, they’re still thinking with their dicks.
okay, so do the other four you’ve already had. all of this is driven by their dicks. hyunjin’s liking towards you is platonic, he still just wants to put it in you again. jeongin? ever more. changbin acts like this because of what his dick received and chan is just difficult mentally. still, they want to dick you down.
anyways. the unfucked four spend their days how the fucked four also do, thinking about how your pussy would feel, how your mouth would look stretched around them, how your ass would jiggle when they fuck you from behind. difference is, one half already got these visuals. that doesn’t hold these men back though.
minho, to start with. he smiles at you nowadays without saying anything, once or twice. he’s nicer, now that you got to know him. but you’re kind of aware that he’s nice because wants to fuck your throat. that he gives the nice to get something.
but that’s okay, the fuck would he want a relationship for now, useless. and he got the alternative that doesn’t nag him on a hourly basis and he doesn’t have to take out on dates and put effort into, just gives him the care without him having to put anything into it. he’s so fine. (only if he knew what relationship awaits him)
han’s best effort on his own pathetic case is just talking to you. or when something’s funny then leaning on you to laugh, or hand on your shoulder and his forehead on that while laughing like it’s a joke. but it’s not a joke. he’s not okay inside. and on top of that he wants to fuck you so badly he can barely think. he wants to bury his face between your thighs and eat you. not just eat you out but eat you. he wants to hear you moan, wants to feel your nails digging into his back. he wants the release he knows you can give him, his assistant.
he needs you. he needs the comfort. he needs to feel wanted.
felix wants to feel what the others felt. he wants to know if you’d moan for him the way you moaned for hyunjin(at least how hyunjin described it, that’s why when felix is in his head about you he sometimes accidentally imagines you moaning in hyunjin’s voice??? and he doesn’t even realize) he just wants to bury his face between your tits and forget the world for ten minutes, c’mon y/n, give him that!
you were extra nice to him one afternoon, just a small thing, let’s say you got him a cold whatever drink without him asking. lix took the can, said “thanks”, then excused himself.
he walked to the bathroom, locked the door, pressed his back to it, and stood there breathing hard, hand on his chest, trying to calm his heart down. he squeezed his eyes together and remembered every second of the interaction. it was nothing. but to him it felt like everything. so that’s how much that little shit affected him.
he stood there for a solid two minutes just trying to breathe while his dick throbbed against his thigh. it was just so inconvenient.
he tried not to jerk off right there. he wanted you so bad in that moment it actually scared him a little. he wanted to push you against the wall, pull your pants down, and bury his face in your pussy until you couldn’t stand. like right there. but he couldn’t. so he just stood there, breathing through it, until his dick calmed down enough to go back out.
oh don’t misunderstand this is not a crush. he’s not in love or anything, he just wants your pussy so bad it’s making him act like this.
but seungmin, doesn’t make an effort to make a move on you. just touching you without a consent but no “no” said is okay to him. he likes just watching you too. acting like he’s not so up for pinning you to the wall and fucking you from behind while covering your mouth so no one would hear.
he just wants your body. wants to use you. wants to take what the others have already had. he’s patient but that’s gonna end once too.
objectification.
you’re letting them objectify you.
you… okay, you kinda like it. not in a “i have no self respect” way, more like… it’s hot. being wanted this badly by eight hot, famous, rich men who could have anyone but keep wanting you. you like being the one they all know. you’re so glad for this job.
and you objectify them back. unintentionally, but you do. especially chan. oh you two have a weird little dynamic, anyways, he’s so.. yes. he’s the man ever. dadaman.
and you catch yourself staring at his hands sometimes, imagining them spreading your ass again. you catch yourself getting horny, turned on just hearing him talk.
he’s hot. he’s so fucking hot it makes you want to rip your two arms off. (without you developing a crush!! so professional)
but this doesn’t mean he’s your favorite, you don’t have a favorite. you like them all the same. and you like their bodies. you like their voices. you like the way they are during sex.
but unlike them, you’re not just objectifying. you’re a woman. you’re not as traumatized as they are. you still have space in your head for empathy. you feel bad for them, really bad sometimes. you see how young they were, you see how they’ve been trained to act through anything, through pain, to perform through exhaustion, to never complain. you see the fear in their eyes when they think about what happens if they’re not perfect. you see how lonely they are, and it affects your easy little heart.
so yeah. you use their bodies and their neediness to feel good and powerful, but you also feel sorry for them. you see the scared little boys underneath the muscles and the acting, you see how much they’ve sacrificed, you see how badly they need someone to just… be soft with them. these men have ruined their lives.
that’s why you let them do this to you.
you’re not innocent, you’re not a victim, you’re a participant, you’re getting something out of this too, money, validation, power, pleasure, satisfaction, and you’re okay with that. you’re more than okay with it.
because you really like the boys, after all. maybe you like them for how traumatized, fucked up in the head they are, but you still do and it is what it is. they’re nice, just damaged.
but lately it’s been a lot of chan. still, no favorites, just it came like this. you’ve been spending big amounts of time with him. it’s a surprise that none of them ended with you choking on his beautiful cock but what’s late isn’t gone.
one night you were in the studio with him, just laptop time. you were about to get up and go home soon, but… not yet.
the others had gone home hours earlier. it was just you and chan, both on your laptops, legs tangled under the small table. now that’s adorable. he was muttering things under his breath, eyebrows knotted, it was so cute. you were fixing the schedule for next week, color coding shit!!
at one point he got up to stretch, arms over his head, shirt riding up, showing that luring v line and the trail of hair you knew led down to his thick cock. he caught you looking. smiled, a little bit. then sat back down. leg went back on yours.
that single interaction held more intimacy, more tension and romance and cheekiness than any form of sex you two ever had.
anyways, you like his company. you really do. he’s maybe the calmest when it’s just the two of you. he’s funny too, in his dry way.
he asks about your day sometimes. tells you shit about the boys. he’s trying.
of course he also likes the way your throat feels. you notice him staring at your mouth sometimes. you see the way his thighs tense, how he swallows when you lean over to point at something on his screen and your shirt gaps a little.
he remembers. he remembers how you looked on your knees. how you sounded gagging on him. how warm and wet and perfect your throat was.
sometimes when you’re both focused on work you’ll notice his breathing change for a second, that’s when he’s thinking about it. then he’ll clear his throat or drink some water and go back to work.
you don’t mind.
you like that tension too.
another night you’re both sitting on a couch in a smaller room, on your laptops. chan is editing something, chewing on that chewable lip a bit. you’re on about some calendar but cookie clicker is open under it.
he reaches for the burger you brought him earlier, unwraps it with one hand, fucking man, and inhales the whole thing in three massive bites. fucking caveman.
you look over. “you good?”
“mm.” he grunts, mouth still full. “stavving. thanks fo brinhing it.”
you hum, going back to your screen. a minute later you ask “can you pass me my charger?”
chan reaches over, unplugs his own charger and hands it to you. it was closer. newer iphone chargers nonetheless so doesn’t really matter. “here.”
“thanks.”
you both go back to typing. ten minutes later he asks you “what time do i need to come in tomorrow?” since something got put to another day.
“ten thirty.”
“fuck. okay.”
silence again. comfortable. you glance at him once. he’s focused, but seems relaxed. you two fit so good together, just please start dating, please. (exaggeration, neither of you are ready for that yet)
he catches you looking. “what?”
“nothing. you have a pen mark on your cheek.”
he rubs at it. “gone?”
“still there.”
he sighs, wipes harder. you go back to your laptop. neither of you says anything else for the next half hour. it’s nice.
you have seen this man naked, by the way.
another time you’re answering emails while chan leans back on the couch, groaning around.
you don’t stare. much.
“my back hurts.” he mutters.
“you did too many reps yesterday?”
“yeah.” he rolls his neck. “can you pass me that pillow behind you?”
you grab it and throw it at his face. he catches it, laughs, aw okay, stuffs it behind his lower back.
“better?”
“better.”
you both go back to work. ten minutes later he reaches over and takes one of your fries from the whatever you ordered.
and when he’s done with that he has the audacity to ask “you got any gum?”
but really he just knows you’ll give them anything anytime.
you pull a pack from your bag and hand him. he takes two, pops them in, then offers the pack back.
“thanks.”
“mhm.”
you sit there in comfortable silence. he chews loudly. you don’t mind.
he likes your company. you like his company too.
you’re getting close.
now. this time it’s the same setting we just lead up to, studio, late as fuck, laptops open.
“pass me the ketchup?” he asks.
you slide the little packet over without looking. he catches it, rips it open with his teeth, and squeezes it onto the last few whatever he asked you to order for him. he paid, of course, not out of being a gentleman, it’s just the company’s rules with employing you.
“mm.” why do men always have to hum when eating? “you talked to hyunjin lately?”
you look up. “a bit. why?”
chan shrugs, not looking at you because he can’t. “heard that you two… you know.”
you lean back. “he asked me that afternoon. said he’d leave the brand meeting early. i told him it was bad timing, but he kept pushing. you know how he gets. i went over. that’s… it.”
he kept pushing. chan doesn’t like that. he’ll talk to hyune later.
anyways, he likes that you tell him this. he likes that you’re honest, that you don’t hide it, that you treat him like he can handle it. it makes him feel trusted. smart.
he nods. “he seemed… lighter after.”
“good. that’s the point.”
another bit of silence.
“you okay with all of it?” he asks.
“yeah. i’m fine.”
he looks at you for a long time, then goes back to his screen. yikes, there goes your chance, chan. but yeah, he’s grateful you talk to him like this. really grateful.
you stand up to grab something from your bag on the table. you rummage for a second, when you turn back around, little notebook in your hand, chan is standing in front of you.
close.
the tension of you two’s arrives back into the room. did it ever leave?
his eyes are fixed on you. so much held back behind them, so much of him.
he’s so pretty. those huge lips, so full, those eyes when he doesn’t have makeup on. how he smells. how low, quiet his voice is when he opens his mouth to talk to you.
“i want to have sex too.”
author’s note: uh btw the end of this series is supposed to be real love w the guys… if u couldn’t tell. so the classic fall in real love bla bla bla, anyways these are really mean characterizations on purpose, does not mean i’m assuming anything of these men or how they act, because i and we do not know these men!! AND if anyone only reads all done boss of my content, i’ll tell u that i do my series w the first part of the titles being the same (my dear y/n series and now the all done) and the last part of them changed!! love y’all thank u for the amount of love i got on the first part of this<3
summary: part one. stray kids just works soooo hard, and aren’t you just an angel of an assistant to give them the sexual relief they need? (chan and hyunjin getting some action specifically, the others will come in the next parts)
warnings: asshole skz, out of character because we like our men a lil evil around here, absolutely unrealistic, fuck knows what assistants do in these environments, cursing, power imbalance, objectification of reader lowk, dumb men, sexual content(oral and handjobs (m receiving), deepthroating, gagging(and gagging sum cum back up), spitting, cum eating, face fucking, grinding, ass play but nothing goes inside a body, making out, hickeys, heavy sexual tension), multiple sex scenes
word count: 22k
you’ve been working for stray kids for about three weeks now and holy shit it’s fucking hell.
as an assistant. given to stray kids themselves because lately, they’ve been needing extra staff support. and that’s okay, boys. just… stop being fucking assholes, maybe?
chan is the only one who sometimes remembers you have a name. he makes you feel like he could either pat your head or fire you without raising his voice. mostly he just nods when you hand him something, mutters “thanks” and keeps walking like you’re part of the wallpaper. one time he actually said “good job” after you fixed his in ear monitor in under ten seconds during soundcheck. you almost dropped dead from the shock.
lee know says maybe twelve words to you a day if you’re lucky. you hand him water, he takes it. you remind him something, he goes “mhm.” you accidentally bump into him backstage and he just sidesteps. you wonder if he even knows you’re the new assistant or if he thinks you’re just another staff member.
changbin is the only one who consistently doesn’t make you feel disposable. he always says “thank you so much” when you pass him anything. once you brought him his favorite hoodie you knew he likes and he looked at you like you hung the moon. “ah… really? you didn’t have to…” he still forgets your name sometimes but at least he tries. “you… the new one, right? sorry, what was it again?” cute fucker.
you want to kick hyunjin up. he’ll take the coffee you’re offering, and go “hm. a little cold already” like you personally pissed in it. you stand there wondering if you should spit in his next one. he’s not outright cruel, just lowkey evil in that hot way that makes you wanna smack him and also maybe climb him. he’s lucky you’re professional.
han seems to be fine by himself most of the time but says “thank youuu~” to you at leadt. pretty chill guy. doesn’t pay you much mind though. doesn’t pay much mind to anything.
felix manages a “oh, thank you” when you get him something but that’s mostly it. you swear he’s the only one who makes eye contact. lowk distant, not like you expected him to jump into your lap, just saying. you brought him throat candies once and he looked genuinely touched. “you noticed? ah, i’m sorry for the trouble.” bro you’re literally paid to notice.
seungmin doesn’t care much either. oh, staff, nice, gets me shit. helps me with shit. it’s their job, my job, that’s fine.
jeongin manages to thank you too, time to time. sometimes he’ll add a tiny “you’re fast” when you’re quick with something.
you hate working for them, to be honest.
just again, why would anyone expect these celebrities to be nice to you, but still. eye contact at least would be nice, dude. or dudes.
mornings are the worst. you’re running around with eight different demands at the same time. chan wants you to tell other people like, sixty things. hyunjin complains whatever drink he asked for is too sweet even though he didn’t fucking specify. lee know just takes whatever you give him and stares into the void. changbin thanks you three times. han acts hurt when you ask him something bc wdym he has to think when it’s your job. felix politely asks if you can find his missing earring. seungmin is on his phone all the time and jeongin is hiding behind his hood pretending he’s not awake yet.
when they’re not just rotting in the recording booths, you’re shoving water bottles, towels, monitors, this and that into their hands while they barely look at you.
“here.” “thanks.” “mhm.” “fuck, this cord is tangled again, who the hell—” (that’s seungmin).
hyunjin once threw his in ear back at you because it was “buzzing weird” and you caught it mid air. he actually looked surprised before going back to ignoring your existence.
but most of the time, you’re background noise. a pair of hands that brings things and fixes things and stays out of the way.
but just again, they’re not your friends and you do not expect them to be. they’re eight men in their twenties living in pressure all the time and they simply don’t have the energy to care about the new assistant beyond “does this person make my life easier right now?”
that’s fine with you. you get paid. you get to stare at handsome faces all day.
plus they’re all massive dramatic bitches when the stress gets too serious.
well, they never scream at you or anything, that would be unprofessional and they’re way too image conscious for that shit. but the passive aggressive energy? the tiny huffs? you want to strangle them.
hyunjin is like the final fuckass boss. you want to peg him just tor the way how he acts when something doesn’t go exactly his way. and not peg in the good way.
one morning you handed him his coffee and it had one too many ice cubes or whatever the fuck and he just stared at the cup.
“this again?” he muttered, then shoved it back into your hands without looking at you. “make it properly.”
later during rehearsal when his mic pack was acting up he actually clicked his tongue loud enough for you to hear and gave you that gut curling side eye like you invented technical difficulties yourself. bitch. you fixed it in thirty seconds flat and he didn’t even say thanks.
still, when he’s not in bitch mode he tolerates you fine. sometimes he even nods in your direction when he sees you. progress.
chan can get angry. “where’s the updated timing?” he asked you once, voice flat, like you were supposed to read his mind.
you scrambled, fixed it, handed it over. he took it without a word, scanned it, then just exhaled through his nose real hard.
the manly equivalent of slamming a door.
later he remembered to mutter “sorry, long day” but it still felt like you got lightly bitch slapped by responsibility.
you once brought lee know the wrong flavor of sum drink and he just looked at the bottle for five full seconds, then set it down slowly. he still takes whatever you give him most days and grunts “mhm” but on bad days that grunt sounds like it’s coming from the depths of hell.
changbin tries to behave, but he gets irritated at shit too. he’ll smile through it at first, “ah it’s okay…” but then he starts avoiding eye contact. not brave enough to actually point it out.
one time the stylists changed his outfit last minute and he had to wait for you to find the right shoes because it was put down somewhere. he stood there quietly for ten minutes, then very politely went “…it’s been a while, hm?”
you felt bad as fuck even though it wasn’t your fault. you got a thanks, at least.
han will still say thank you but it’s almost sarcastic. “thanks. really needed that.” said in a tone that implies he needed it five minutes ago. he wants you to be in place, you work for him after all.
felix stays fair at least. “it’s fine.” he’ll say. “just… next time maybe check twice?” you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. beautiful men should not be allowed to do this.
seungmin will take what you hand him, say thanks in the most neutral tone possible, and that’s it. says thanks but says it wirh the energy of thx.
sometimes he’ll just look through you like you’re not even there. one time you reminded him about something in twenty and he went “yeah i know” so flat you felt stupid for opening your mouth.
he’s not mean exactly, just… done. existing in his own bubble and you’re outside it.
jeongin will mumble thanks when you help him but if he’s stressed he gets his little attitude. “you sure this is the right one?” he asked once, holding up the wrong anything you accidentally gave him. made you feel so dumb. wanted you to feel dumb. then he smiled like he didn’t just lowkey call you incompetent. little shit.
still blushes when you catch him off guard though, so at least there’s that.
the days they’re huge bitches are usually the ones with back to back schedules, zero sleep, and zero breaks. you get it. so yeah, they snap a little. they get pissy. they sigh loud and click tongues and give you the cold shoulder.
but they don’t hate you, actually. none of them has ever complained about you to management or asked for someone else.
they like you enough not to make your life hell, but not enough to treat you like a person most days. you’re useful. reliable. that’s about it. you’re like any other staff, assigned a little closer to them, maybe.
you like watching chan lead them thru another flawless performance like he didn’t almost bite your head off six hours earlier.
men.
and it’s always, a l w a y s, y/n this. y/n that. y/n where is my nonstop. they’re on your dick 24/7.
“y/n.”
“y/n get me water.”
“y/n my in ear is messed up again.”
“y/n where’s the schedule?”
“y/n, hurry.”
even when they’re being bitches they still need you. especially when they’re being bitches.
hyunjin is your favorite to be honest. not because oh bias or anything, just because you actually kinda fuck with the way he’s like this. it’s like those female teachers loving the boys even though the boys are annoying and disrespectful.
“y/n. fix this.” he’ll say, pissy, shoving his half buttoned shirt at you. the stylist buttoned it for him perfectly before, mind you. fuck did he unbutton it for? bitch go tell the stylist this not y/n. (you did it for him)
one time he was in a full mood during rehearsal, everything was wrong, and he kept calling your name every thirty seconds. “y/n this light is too bright.” “y/n the floor feels sticky.”
you fixed it all but told him under your breath “then lick it cleaner, princess”
he actually heard you. you thought you were getting fired right there. wouldn’t even have minded it either, but he just gave you the deadest stare but didn’t say shit because deep down he knows he’s being a hoe.
when chan asks you to bring the this, the that, you bring it. two minutes later: “y/n, the pens?” you bring pens. five minutes later: “y/n—” you almost throw the whole fucking folder at his head.
lee know doesn’t even say full sentences anymore. just “y/n.” and then points at whatever he needs. water. towel. phone charger.
once he did the finger point while staring straight ahead.
you almost broke his finger.
you handed him the thing and he went “mhm”
changbin at least can get a nice tone on for FUCK’s sake. “y/n, sorry, could you get me the…?” it’s every ten minutes. you catch him looking a little guilty sometimes, mayb he knows they’re all overusing you, but then five minutes later he’s doing it again because his brain is fried and your help is nice.
han says thank you at least. he, compared to the others, lowkey leaves you alone. but that’s compared to the others. he still needs this and that and oh also—
felix really likes calling for you. sometimes he adds a tiny “sorry for bothering you again” but then asks for thirty things at once after that.
seungmin takes what you give him and barely look up, but god forbid you’re two steps too slow. he’ll just exhale hard through his nose. he’s on your dick just as much as the rest, just quieter about it.
“y/n…” jeongin mumbles at first, then if you take too long he gets this little smirk. “y/n, you sleeping or what?” he gon get his arm broken very soon, you’re capable of many things. whoop foreshadowing.
anyways, one time he called your name four times in a row because he couldn’t find his own fucking socks and when you finally found them he went “wow you’re slow today” you wanted to stuff the socks in his mouth.
you’ll be in the middle of fixing something on hyunjin(he’s a bitch but still lets you this close to him, says a lot tbh) and chan will call from across the room “y/n, timing?” and han will chime in “y/n i need my phone” and suddenly it’s a chorus of your name from eight different directions.
y/n.
y/n.
y/n.
yeah it’s not rare that you get called for from multiple directions at the same time.
take it when hyunjin and changbin both go y/n at the exact same second.
hyunjin’s voice is already pissy because his shirt collar is sitting weird. “y/n, fix this, it’s choking me.”
changbin is just as demanding but has a nicer tone to it. “y/n… sorry, can you pass me the throat spray? my voice feels off.”
you freeze for half a second while both of them stare at you expecting you to split in two.
hyunjin clicks his tongue. “well?”
you end up tossing the spray to changbin first because he was nicer about it, then you’re on hyunjin adjusting his stupid pretty collar while he looks down at you.
“faster.” he mutters. you want to bite his neck. not in the sexual way. you actually want to rip his veins out.
you two lowk like each other.
then chan. “y/n, is my laptop there?” lee know just lifts one hand lazily without even looking up. “water.” han is waving at you with that big smile that hides how tired he is. “y/n, my protein bar, the chocolate one!” felix raises his hand too “yo y/n, any chance you got my phone?“ seungmin next “y/n, mind grabbing me a coffee? black, thanks.” and jeongin is peeking from behind his phone. “y/n? can you check if my shoes are laced right? feels weird.” he could do it himself, mind you. he just likes to slave you around. all eight do.
all eight. at once. you’re one woman. you have two hands and one brain that’s currently dying.
when y’all have somewhere to be, every five minutes someone needs something. “y/n, my earphones are tangled.” hyunjin, pissy. “y/n, do we have any gum?” felix. “y/n, what time are we arriving again?” chan. lee know doesn’t even say your name, he just looks at you and you already know, water. han is the only one who adds a cute “please” most times, but even he piles on. changbin tries to be independent, at least. seungmin throws a “y/n, charger?” your way. jeongin entertains himself, he’s usually not that big of a problem when you’re out.
one night after a crazy schedule when all of them are quiet for once, changbin murmurs a “y/n, my neck hurts, any painkillers?” and “y/n—” “y/n—” “y/n, me too actually—” “yeah, if you have extra.”
you had to take the deepest breath. you’ll be a good mother after all this practice at least.
but let’s be real, after all this time and you not quitting, the hoes started to slowly trust you.
not in the let’s be besties way, but they know they can count on y/n.
they stop watching you like a hawk when you hold their phones. they leave expensive watches and half used shit on tables and don’t triple check if you moved anything. they even complain about managers infront of you sometimes.
they know you won’t fuck them over.
the biggest change happened because of chan.
it was genuinely a disaster of a night. everything went to shit. at 1:17am he pulled out his phone, texted you that he needs help with something. dorm if you can.
and you went because you’re a damn good assistant. security also let you through because apparently chan had already cleared it.
he opened their door in a black hoodie and sweats, hair so cute, looking equal parts grateful and dead. but he was really, really, really relieved to see you. “come in. sorry it’s a mess.”
it was messy, but sure, they’re men.
andyou spent the whole night at their tiny dining table with him. everything work related was on the table. chan was surprisingly open once the door was closed.
you even massaged his shoulders for ten minutes when he looked close to death. he kept muttering “thanks… seriously y/n” every hour or so. woah, gratitude we see there?
he really needed you that night. he needed the help he doesn’t usually take.
then jeongin’s little bitchass walked out of his room around 3:30am wearing nothing but black boxers, hair sticking up everywhere, half asleep and scratching his stomach.
he just gave you a lazy little slap on the arm as he passed. “hey, y/n.” he mumbled, walking weird(nothing happened, men just walk weird sometimes we know that), drank a huge glass of water, then casually walked back to his room.
your mouth went dry. he looked so hot.
chan just shook his head.
you powered through. by 6am chan had everything solid.
he told you to “go home. take the whole day off tomorrow— today. whatever. you earned it. i’ll tell management.” you tried to argue but he just shook his head. “no. sleep.” like okay dada.
each of the others had their opinions of this night, of course. most of the disagreement was pointed towards chan, not you. it was chan who let staff this close into their finally earned personal space, and you were just doing your job. but just again, this was most. the ones who think less in general, felix for an example, or seungmin but he does use his brain, those were the ones who did feel a little bit different about you.
but even they got over it because they have bigger shit to deal with.
plus… you’re actually fun to be around.
they realized that.
chan, after that all nighter, looks at you with actual respect. you’re not just staff anymore but someone who has his back, even though you’re doing it because you get paid for it.
“y/n, handle this for me?” and you do, because you’re reliable as fuck and he knows. you’re pretty much the only staff member who doesn’t make his head hurt.
then one afternoon you were sitting on a couch and… minho sat down next to you? like so next to you that his whole thick sidewas pressed up against yours. thigh to thigh, arm to arm, everything.
and he talked to you??? “i don’t like this schedule.” he muttered. “they keep adding shit. you notice that too?” you nodded like a dumbass and he kept going, complaining about this and that.
five whole minutes of lee know having a conversation while basically cuddling you on a tiny couch. you didn’t move. you didn’t breathe too loud. when he finally got up he just gave you one nod and left. your leg was asleep for twenty minutes after. men are disgustingly hot.
all because he saw that chan put trust in you.
changbin has straight up adopted you. he follows you around whenever he’s not needed, chatting about random stuff just to talk to you. other staff have literally gotten used to seeing the two of you walking side by side down every corridor.
you’re delivering papers? he’s right there beside you, chatting. you’re grabbing coffee for everyone? he tags along carrying one cup just to talk.
hyunjin started this disgusting new habit where he’ll stress eat half a fucking sandwich, or a granola bar, or some random pastry, then shove the sad remains straight into your hand.
“here. it’s yours now.”
one time it was a half eaten banana and he just pressed the mushy end into your palm while looking you dead in the eye.
“finish it.”
you stood there holding warm banana goo wondering how the fuck your life got to this point.
you were starving though. his saliva didn’t even taste that bad.
one night, like really late night when the others were still recording in the booth and you were sitting in the couch of that room, han just… sat in your lap??
“y/n, bounce me.”
so you kept talking to another staff member while you had your arms around the man and bounced your knees up and down. his ass was warm and heavy and every bounce made your thighs burn.
the unprofessional ever.
he enjoyed it though and that’s what matters. (this action will have consequences ahh)
one evening felix texted you saying he needed help with some paperwork shit at the dorm because he was too wiped to think straight. other staff usually deal with it for him but this time they shoved it into his hands and he had to take it home.
anyways. when you were there you made the mistake of saying “that shirt looks nice on you” professionally!!
felix paused, looked down at it, then just peeled it off right there, tossed it at your face and said “keep it.”
you caught it on instinct, fabric still warm from his body, and stood there holding a shirt worth a kidney.
seungmin usually keeps his distance but one night he was heading down to grab late night food for the boys. he asked the boys first, the usual, then turned to you. “y/n, you want anything?”
you stopped. seungmin remembering the staff exists? seungmin offering?
you muttered something about candy and he nodded, came back twenty minutes later with your little chocolate bar.
you’d been promoted from staff to lowkey pet.
some night you had to stand outside with some important smoking higher people while the boys were indoors, it was freezing. jeongin noticed from the window, disappeared for thirty seconds, then came out and draped his own jacket over your shoulders with a friendly smile. you thanked him hundreds of times but he just waved you off and went back inside. he jacket smelled like him. boy sweat, cologne, whatever detergent they use with chan. your mouth watered a little remembering the boxers incident. men make you feral.
as long as you’re around, shit runs smoother.
you’re just trying not to moan out loud when another one of them does something intimate while calling your name for the hundredth time that day.
fucking men. fucking hoes.
fucking unbelievable.
fucking sweet.
you’re back in chan and jeongin’s dorm again, way past midnight , because apparently “just one more hour of reviewing this” turned into “let’s camp out until the sun comes up.”
jeongin is already passed out in his room.
the whole situation screams unprofessional from every angle. you, sitting on the floor next to chan’s bed with your laptop balanced on your knees while he sits in his gaming chair, elbows on the desk, staring at his own screen.
the room smells like him. you like it.
you’re in your boss’s bedroom at 2am helping him work. assistant duties, sure. but still. hope we can all see what’s up.
chan rubs his eyes with one big hand and sighs. “y/n… you any good with this negotiation shit?”
you stretch your back. “yeah, i’m decent. learned a bunch from the last company i was at. act like you’re doing them a favor. also i’m good at reading between the lines on email tone, when they’re bluffing, when they’re actually pissed, that kinda thing.”
he nods, listening.
“honestly, i’m good at a lot of shit.” you say. “i know, uuh, spreadsheets, schedules, calming down people, giving killer blowjobs when the situation calls for it.”
the second the words leave your mouth your soul leaves your body.
you slap both hands over your face. “oh my god, chan, i’m so fucking sorry. that was disgusting. i was joking. i’m just exhausted, my brain’s not working, please pretend i didn’t say that. holy shit i wanna die.”
he stares at you for a second, then lets out this little surprised laugh, shoulders shaking a little. that whole combo looks good on him.
“fuck, okay. it’s fine, y/n. really. we’re both running on no sleep. don’t worry about it. shit slips out.” chuckling a little, eyes crinkling at the corners. “didn’t expect that one, though.”
you nod fast, mumble a “heh yeah mhm” face burning, wanting to disappear, and force your eyes back to your screen.
the silence that follows feels different than before.
minutes tick by. you’re both typing again, but the energy in the room has changed. bad. human energy. physical.
chan keeps glancing over.
then he clears his throat. “y/n.”
you look up. you know you’re going to get fired in this saint second.
“would you… be down for it?”
huh?
“down for what?”
he exhales through his nose, he can’t believe he’s saying this out loud. “the blowjob.” and immediately he leans back, hands coming up. “fuck, sorry, that came out wrong. i didn’t mean to make it weird, this is so unprofessional, i’m your boss basically, we’re both tired, this is crossing every line, i haven’t had any action in months and i’m tired, just forget i said anything—”
“sure.”
“sure?”
you swallow. “i mean… yeah. if you want. we can keep it professional. i’m offering to help because it’s my job. i don’t mind helping. really. like no weirdness after. or any attachment if that’s what you’re afraid of. just… relief. like the other stuff i do for you guys. we both know this stays between us.”
he watches you for a long time, searching your face. making sure you’re not fucking with him.
holy shiiiiit.
the leader in him is clearly fighting the man who’s been running on stress for months.
finally his eyebrows move lower on his face. he looks so good. “you sure? i don’t want you feeling like you have to. if it’s a hard no, say it. we go back to work and pretend this conversation never happened.”
you nod, setting your laptop aside on the bed. “i’m sure. we’re both adults. you trust me enough to let me in here. i trust you enough to keep it between us. it’s just… helping. professionally, i guess.”
chan rubs his face with both hands, then drops them, looking at you with disbelief. “fuck. okay. yeah. if you’re really down… that would actually be… shit, i don’t even know how to say it without sounding like an asshole.”
he shifts in the chair, the move making his sweats pull tighter across his lap. you don’t let your eyes drop there. not yet.
“i want to, chan. shut up and let your assistant help.”
“alright. if you’re sure.”
you nod, heart racing, moving toward him on the floor.
the air between you crackles with how fucking human and inevitable this whole thing is.
wait, no, i meant to say professional.
totally fucking professional.
he watches you approach, throat working as he swallows. hot. “y/n…”
“mm?”
“thank you. seriously.”
you smile, sweet, beautiful, even as you settle down between his spread legs. “anytime, chan. now relax and let me do my job.”
the laptop screen glows behind him, forgotten. for the first time in weeks, mr leader looks like he actually feels something besides depression.
you keep your voice to a whisper, soft and comforting, you’re so good at it. “it’s okay. you’ve been so wound up. let me take care of it.”
his eyes are locked on yours, and now you can actually feel them do something to you. you can already see the outline of him straining against the front of his sweats, tented up nice and obvious now, the shape of his cock pushing forward cuz it’s been trying to wave hello after you two danced around the idea for ten whole minutes.
you drag one finger in slow, lazy circles on the inside of his thigh. god, that’s a muscle there. up and down.
“that’s it.” you whisper. “just let it happen. you’re safe with me tonight.”
he lets out a low, shaky breath through his nose, thighs spreading wider. the outline gets thicker, harder, the head of him nudging more obviously against the fabric until the whole thing is basically throbbing there, begging.
you keep circling that finger, pressing a little firmer each time, watching the way his cock jumps every time you get close but never quite touch it yet.
when he’s fully hard, cock standing so stiff it’s almost pathetic how it strains the waistband of his sweats, a tiny wet spot already forming where the tip is leaking, you finally hook your fingers into the elastic. slow as fuck. you tug the sweats down his hips inch by inch, letting them bunch around his cute ankles. his boxer briefs come next, black and snug, the front stretched obscenely over the fat length of him. you peel those down too, careful, watching his cock spring free and slap up against his stomach with a soft, heavy sound.
and jesus fucking christ.
he’s big. not porn star ridiculous ofc, but real man big. thick, veiny, kind of cock that makes your mouth water. like wdym your boss has been packing this the whole time? the head is flushed, already shiny with pre cum beading at the slit. his balls are heavy underneath, drawn up tight from how turned on he is, nestled in a bush of dark pubes that get light when going up his pretty little stomach. makes your stomach flip.
“y/n… shit, i haven’t had time to, i’m not really shav—”
you press a finger to your lips, a soft shh, then slide a hand up his thigh and squeeze the thick muscle there, reassuring. “don’t. seriously. it’s fine. you’re perfect like this.”
you don’t mind. you expected it. this man barely has time to sleep, let alone shave his junk.
his eyes go wide.
hungry.
that little thing, you telling him he’s perfect just changed something in his dumb man brain and now he’s stupidly, suddenly attracted to you in a way that goes waaaay past professional relief. not just attracted, attached.
his cock twitches hard in the air between you, confirming it, another bead of pre sliding down the shaft.
you spit into your palm. lands loud in the quiet room. not so ladylike but after all it is, because you use it to wrap your hand around the base of him. slow. so fucking slow. feels so funny. in the hot way.
you stroke up from the root all the way to the head, thumb swirling over the leaking tip to spread everything nice and slick. down again, twisting your wrist a little, spreading your spit around, feeling the way his pubes tickle the side of your hand on every pass.
chan’s head falls back against the chair. he lets out these low little sounds. guttural might be the best word. a deep “mmph” when you squeeze tighter on the upstroke. a shaky exhale that turns into a quiet little groan when you drag your thumb right under the head where he’s most sensitive. his balls are basically in love with you.
you keep it slow, just learning the shape of him, the way his cock pulses in your grip, learning how he’s built.
work’s gonna be real difficult after this, knowing the exact shape of your boss’ cock, but whatever. now’s not the time to think about that.
another spit, right onto the head this time, and you spread it with your palm, making everything messy.
looks obscene. looks like him.
he’s leaking constantly now, precum mixing with your spit and dripping down over your knuckles.
you twist your hand on the way back up, firm, perfect, and chan’s hips jerk once, oh fuck he didn’t mean to, a “fuck”slipping out.
you keep going like that. long strokes. base to tip. tip to base. sometimes you pause at the head and just milk him with your thumb and fingers, watching more pre ooze out. sometimes you roll his balls gently in your other hand, feeling how full they are, how manly.
every sound he makes is quiet but real, that’s why it’s so hot, low grunts, shaky sighs, the occasional deep something in his chest that you can’t quite identify. his hands are gripping the arms of the chair.
you glance up at him every few strokes, catching the way his jaw clenched, eyes half lidded, so so so hot, and fixed on your hand working him, that beautiful face flushed and fucked up already.
he looks like he came six fucking times already and you’ve barely even started. he looks fucking gone. the outline in his pants was nothing compared to the real thing, big, heavy in your hand, twitching and leaking.
shit, like he hasn’t been touched in months.
chan lets out another quiet groan, hips shifting, moving up into your hand. his cock is flushed darker now, veins standing out, the head glossy and swollen. beautiful.
you squeeze his thigh again with your free hand, comforting, and he melts a little more into the chair, another “mmh…” escaping him.
you’re really fucking good at this.
you keep stroking him slowly and slick for a few more (torturous) seconds, watching his cock live in your fist, veins bulging, the head shiny and leaking. chan’s thighs are tense as fuck around you, muscles flexing in pleasure. his breathing is rough, the low grunts turning into shaky little huffs that he’s clearly trying to keep quiet because jeongin is still in the building.
you lean in closer, spit one more onto the tip. it lands and slides down the shaft, mixing with all the pre already dripping everywhere.
then you finally stop the foreplay.
you take him into your mouth.
the second your lips wrap around the swollen head chan has to take a biiiig breath, head tilted back, his mouth shut, teeth gritted.
you sink down fast, taking as much of his thick cock as you can in one go, lips hugging the girth. so snug. half his length disappears into your (hot, wet) mouth and you hollow your cheeks immediately, wow, sucking like you’re trying to pull the stress right out of his balls.
chan’s hand flies to the back of your head, then leaves it because he remembers you’re his assistant, and flies to the chair instead. his hips thrust up, chasing you, and you let him, relaxing your throat so another inch slides in.
his eyes actually cross.
the head bumps the back of your throat and you swallow around him, throat muscles struggling, but still milking the tip. spit is already pouring out the corners of your mouth, dripping down his shaft and soaking into the dark pubes at the base. you don’t care. you bob your head, then again, and again, sloppy and greedy(for your boss’ cock), gluck gluck gluck.
chan has to breathe with his mouth open to bear with the pleasure.
every time you pull back you swirl your tongue around the head, sucking hard on the sensitive underside before diving back down, nose pressing into his pubes on the deepest strokes.
it’s so obscene. so filthy. has that human smell that’s almost disgusting but more hot.
his balls are right there, heavy(makes him even hotter in your eyes), so you reach up with one hand and roll them gently, fingers slipping through the soft hair covering them, tugging, massaging, making his cock jump in your mouth.
the sounds he’s making are pure porn.
“y/n… fuck— y/n—”
music. to. your. fucking. ears.
it’s the only opinion he can get out. pure disbelief that his quiet, sweet little assistant is sucking his soul out through his dick like a pro. where the fuck did you learn to do this? the question is written all over his fucked face, but all that comes out is another desperate “y/n… shit—”
you hum around him. his cock twitches violently on your tongue, another thick spurt of pre flooding your mouth. you swallow it down greedily, moaning softly so he feels it, then pull off just long enough to spit on him again. messy, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his glistening cock, so unprofessional(well no fucking shit), before you dive back in even harder.
you’re giving him your best. head bobbing fast and sloppy, one hand stroking what your mouth can’t reach, twisting. the other hand keeps playing with his balls, feeling how full and heavy they are, how the skin wrinkles under your fingers.
spit is everywhere. dripping down your chin, running down his shaft, soaking his pubes.
every time you take him deep your throat makes these disgusting gurgling noises and chan’s thighs start shaking around your shoulders.
he’s panting now, chest heaving under his hoodie, head thrown back against the chair. his whines are getting higher, god, he can’t believe how good it feels.
his cock is rock hard and pulsing, the head basically exploding in pleasure everytime it hits the back of your throat. you suck harder, cheeks hollowed, tongue working the underside.
good little assistant you are.
you pull off for a second to catch your breath, strings of thick spit connecting your swollen lips to his cock. you stroke him fast with your slick hand, watching the way his balls tighten even more, the way his pubes are soaked and clinging to his skin. then you lean down and take him back down, burying your nose in his pubes until your throat is bulging around him.
chan is gone. completely gone. not here anymore. his whines turn into these animal groans that he tries to muffle with his fist, but they still leak out.
you go faster now. sloppier. throat relaxing so you can take him even deeper, nose grinding into him. spit bubbles at the corners of your mouth and drips onto his balls. your hand keeps working the base, stroking in time with your mouth, squeezing. his cock is so wet it sounds disgusting, loud, wet, filthy sucking noises that would be embarrassing if either of you gave a single fuck right now.
his thighs are trembling hard around you. his abs are clenching under the hoodie.
you look up at him through wet lashes, eyes watering from how deep you’re taking him, and the sight of the big strong leader completely dying because of your mouth is enough to make you moan around his cock.
you feel the power of your situation. your jaw is starting to ache but you don’t care. you love it. you love how his thighs are shaking around your shoulders, how his balls feel in your palm, how every time you pull off for a breath a string of spit connects your swollen lips to his glistening cock and he stares down at you like he’s seeing god.
he’s leaking so much it’s constant now, salty and warm and kinda ew, sliding down your throat while you moan around him because you’re so fucking turned on it hurts.
you feel powerful. you feel wanted. you feel the stress melting out of his body.
he doesn’t want this to end, but he’s so close that it might very soon. because you’re that good.
that’s why his hips don’t stop twitching, squirming around, and his thighs spread more, trembling, and that “y/n… y/n…” turns into one long moan.
you push deeper, swallowing around him, throat squeezing tight as the first thick rope of cum shoots down your throat. it’s hot, salty, a lot, months of stress and no release all pouring out in wild spurts that you swallow greedily, cheeks hollowed, eyes watering you keep sucking through it, milking him with your mouth and hand while he cums and cums and cums like he’s never going to stop. doesn’t taste that good but you’re just doing your job, aren’t you, y/n?
“y/n— fuck— y/n—” his voice is so fucking whiny it makes your pussy clench.
you take every twitch, every throb, every spurt as it coats your tongue and slides down. your toes are curled. the musky smell of him mixed with fresh cum is so filthy and human it makes your head spin.
you keep working him through the whole thing, slow and gentle now, sucking softly on the sensitive head while the last weak pulses dribble onto your tongue.
his cock is twitching, now just half hard, shiny and messy with spit and cum when you finally pull off. sounds wet. a string of saliva and semen connects your swollen lips to his tip for a second before it breaks and drips onto his balls.
you swallow one last time, then back on your heels, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. “all done, boss.”
chan’s slumped in the chair, chest heaving, eyes half lidded and kinda crossed??, mouth open. he looks like he doesn’t know whether to propose or cry.
he sighs. reaches down slowly, tucking his spent, spit shiny cock back into his boxers with shaky hands, then yanks his sweats up over his hips. the wet spot on the front is lame. funny. then sits there for a second, rebooting.
then he stands up on slightly unsteady legs, runs a hand through his messy hair, and mutters “i’m… gonna take a quick shower. you can go home. i mean— fuck, not like i’m sending you home, god no, i’m not that much of an asshole. i just… you’ve been here all night, you should rest—”
“i know what you mean. it’s okay. i’ll head out.” voice sweet and professional like you didn’t just swallow his load two minutes ago.
he nods, relief and some emotional dilema on his face. he looks like he wants to say something bigger but doesn’t know how. instead he just says “do you want tomorrow off? you earned it. more than earned it.”
you shake your head, standing up and smoothing your clothes. “no, i’m good. i’ll see you. don’t worry about me.”
he watches you gather your stuff for a second, then nods.
you slip out of the apartment as quietly as you can.
your lips feel swollen, your jaw aches, and you can still taste him. your panties are soaked through, thighs sticky, and your brain is a mess of what the fuck did i just do and holy shit that was hot.
back inside, chan stands under the shower for a long time, hot water pounding on his shoulders, trying to wrap his head around the fact that his you, his assistant, just got on her knees and sucked him dry.
he keeps thinking of the way you looked up at him, the way you swallowed everything, the little cheeky “all done, boss” after. god, that was hot. cherry on fucking top.
his chest feels tight. it has nothing to do with the orgasm and everything to do with how much he suddenly wants to pull you close and make you his girl. and with the stress and anxiety, of course. how will tomorrow go? will you act normal? how will the boys find out? ugh. he might just go and cuddle up next to jeongin in hopes of getting some comfort, for fuck’s sake.
and… oh my god, you’re back at it the next day like nothing happened, running around. like, for all eight of them again. y/n get this, y/n fix that strap, y/n where’s my fucking charger, y/n my coffee’s cold.
y/n you deserve a month off. a year. a life. respect to you.
and you and chan are scarily professional. no signs. no weird eye contact, no blushing, nothing. wow.
you hand him something and he says “thanks” you fix something on him and he just nods.
but there’s this new tension in the air that the other seven clock immediately.
chan is… softer. more boy than man. or maybe more man than boy. his shoulders aren’t as locked up. that’s good. he laughs a little quicker at han’s dumb jokes. and his eyes keep flicking to you when you’re across the room, then away. he even says “take it easy today, y/n” once in passing, and you smile at him like you didn’t have his cock down your throat eight hours ago.
the boys aren’t stupid. they’ve known chan for years, we know that. they can read that man easily.
so the second they’re alone, one of the bigger studio rooms or green rooms or whatever after the afternoon schedule, doors shut, no staff, just the eight of them sprawled on couches...
“okay what the fuck is up with you and y/n?” han asks legs kicked up on the coffee table. “did something happen?”
chan freezes mid sip of his water. “what? no. shut up.”
hyunjin leans forward. “no, something’s up. are you okay?”
chan rubs his face, puts the water down. he keeps glancing at the door. “it’s not— look, it’s nothing. we’re fine. drop it.”
changbin watches him. “you know you can tell us.”
“no, it’s not about y/n.”
“then?”
chan groans, head falling back against the couch. he’s quiet for a long minute, jaw working, chewing on his mouth, clearly fighting with himself. plus he just lied about it not being about you. fuck.
the silence is killing them.
“…y/n blew me, okay?”
dead silence.
“like..?” han mumbles, grabbing imaginary hair in front of him and thrusting his hips forward into the air like he’s face fucking someone.
hyunjin watches. giggles. says “like..?” and tilts his head back, opens his mouth wide, and jerks both hands up and down like he’s milking a cock into an open mouth. “like this?” his voice is so cute, giggling, laughing, smiling ear to ear. he’s beautiful.
“like..?” felix pokes his tongue hard into his cheek so it bulges out while he jacks the air next to his face with one hand.
“like..?” changbin twists both hands in the air like he’s gripping a thick shaft, then leans forward and makes loud sucking noises above it, hollowing his cheeks, eyes big and looking up at chan while he does the most pornographic blowjob mime you’ve ever seen. “mmh… mmh… like this? deepthroat?”
“like..?” jeongin smirks and makes a fist, then bobs his head down on it fast while making exaggerated gagging sounds. “y/n taking the whole thing?“
“like..?” seungmin leans back and acts like he’s holding a hair above his crotch, pulling the imaginary hair up and down.
minho giggles out loud. “like..?” then starts thrusting up into the air, holding himself up with his back on the couch he’s sitting on.
chan buries his face in his hands, ears red.
they’re all laughing their fuckasses off but are also genuinely shocked. like did this really happen? in their years of careers this actually happened? to chan??
“no fucking way—”
“how the hell did she take you?”
“you didn’t tell us?”
“did she swallow?”
“was it good?”
chan groans. head in his hands. “yes, okay? it was… fuck, it was insane.” he slaps his face with the two hands holding it up. “she’s really good at it. i didn’t even know… i still don’t know how. and we’re keeping it professional. it was just… stress relief. one time. that’s it. i asked her for it and she said yes.”
the room goes quiet.
then han starts thrusting into the air again, laughing in chan’s face.
felix pokes his tongue in his cheek again, then pulling it away and poking it back really fast, going into chan’s face.
changbin is screaming laughing, still twisting the air. minho can’t breathe and keeps slapping changbin’s shoulders as he twists around from silent laughter.
“and you did that next to me?” jeongin whines but he’s smiling ear to ear. he’s so entertained.
“when’s my turn?“ hyunjin asks.
chan throws a pillow at him. “shut the fuck up. none of you say shit to her. i’m serious. this stays here.”
they all nod, still laughing, still processing. they’re shocked as fuck. horny. jealous. proud. men.
and now every single one of them is now lowkey wondering how the fuck they can get on your good side next.
and boom, they’re suddenly… nicer. not in a fake polite way. in a scary, intentional, grown man way. suddenly, they’re not huge assholes.
minho sits next to you again. and again. and again. always watching you talk, chin in his palm usually, nodding along, smiling, laughing with you. what the fuck.
changbin finds you on the halls again. “y/n, how long have you been doing this kind of work? do you like it? does it get exhausting dealing with us all day?” his pretty eyes focused on your face. when you say it can be hard, he smiles and says “you’re really good at it. we notice, you know.” then he lightly bumps your shoulder with his. you notice that too.
hyunjin actually waits until you’re close and gently tugs your sleeve. “y/n. come here for a second.” when you step closer he holds out his iced coffee like an offering. “taste this. too sweet again?” you take a sip and he watches your mouth the whole time, eyes intense. baby stop. “hm. ‘kay.” then he gives you this tiny half smile and walks off. you stand there blinking like he just grew a second head.
han full on grabs your arm during break, tugging you over to the couch he’s sitting on. “y/n sit with me for a bit. my shoulders are bad from yesterday, can you press here?” he makes you touch him.
felix leans against the wall next to you during a break, not in the cringe way but in that boyish loose way that’s so ggrgrghghh, sipping his drink, and goes “so what do you do when you’re not running after us? any hobbies? boyfriend? …no? hm.”
seungmin also uses the digging technique first. “you got family around here? siblings? what made you want to work in this industry?” he asks you. listens. anything for his dick tbh, even though your answers aren’t boring.
jeongin usually smiles ear to ear when he gets close to you, using his voice. using it good. or asks you to pass things that are literally in fucking arm reach, putting his fingers on yours purposely. his best attempt at flirting.
and chan is trying so fucking hard. he’s professional, respectful, gives you space… but his eyes follow you constantly.
“y/n, thanks.” “y/n, good job.” oh suddenly he can be grateful.
when no one’s watching he squeezes your shoulder gently, even.
uhuh there goes being professional and he knows that.
why isn’t he stopping himself? why can’t he listen to his brain when it’s about something this important? it was a one time thing. fuck.
the way they’re all suddenly tugging your arm, asking about your life, watching your mouth when you talk, finding excuses to be close… it’s too coordinated. too on purpose. too curious. too hungry. too boy.
you have a pretty strong guess that chan cracked and told them at least some version of what happened that night.
the thought makes your face hot every time one of them calls your name now because now it feels meant. like they’re all imagining the same thing.
and they’re so good at it. these are grown men who’ve spent years charming fans, interviewers, sponsors. they know exactly how to act, what to say. they learned this.
they’re doing this to get something. it’s lowkey mind games. that’s their whole life already.
because they’re wondering the same thing. if she did that for chan… what would she do for me?
plus they value chan so much that the fact he let you that close somehow makes you… safe. approved. part of the inner circle now. it’s weirdly sweet when we ignore the fact that they’re only doing it to get some game too.
my actual respect goes for the way they’re still pros on the surface, perfect smiles for cameras or other people, flawless interviews and public presence, but the second the staff clears out or the doors close, you’re left and their imagination of the position you sucked chan off with.
but around you, so unprofessional.
which is horrible, but they keep doing it.
minho actually contains himself, kind of. just sometimes puts an arm behind you when sitting with you on a couch. testing how you’d feel under him. or he’ll press his palm flat against your waist to gently move you aside when he wants something from the table behind you. like hello to you too daddy.
changbin catches you in the hallway, gently grabs your waist to turn you toward him. “y/n, wait, can you—” all the time. he’s wondering how you’d look looking up at him with those same helpful eyes while your mouth is full.
you’re helping hyunjin adjust his collar(it’s the fucking stylists’ job, why did he demand you to do it?) when his hand slides around your waist from behind, holding onto you.
“tighter on the left.” he mutters.
when you’re finished he gives your waist a tiny squeeze before letting go.
han actually gives you hugs now. like a saying hi hug in the mornings which always he initiates. hugging just to touch, no emotion behind it. it’s unprofessional and annoying. he’s not a smart man but has a goal now. he’s interested and so is something else on him.
felix keeps it casual. he leans in while you’re handing him water, but leans in on purpose. “thanks, y/n.” oh hello getting polite aren’t we.
seungmin is not touchy. respect tbh.
not like jeongin, who tugs you by the waist constantly now. “y/n, come here real quick.” wants his dick sucked NOW.
and they’re talking to you more than ever. and they exchange the information they got. they are standing on business. they’re horny boys first, idols second right now.
plus they can see that the energy between you and chan is thick as fuck now. he texts you more, he lets you into his space easier. during a late rehearsal he pulls you aside and tells you “that night, it helped. a lot. more than you know.”
the tension is there, but nothing sexual has happened again. yet. he’s holding back, trying to be professional, but you can feel how bad he wants more.
too bad the other seven want a piece of whatever chan got that night.
felix is the straighest about it. during a break he leans in, eyes dragging over you, slowly(he was trained to do this), and goes “you look good today, y/n. really good.” it sounds friendly on the surface, like a casual compliment, but the way his gaze lingers on your lips and then drops to your chest makes it anything but. he smiles after, boyish, beautiful, like he didn’t just eye fuck you in broad daylight. waiter waiter a whole box of xanax please
the others are sneakier but still deeply unprofessional and they know it. they ask about your life like they’re actually interested, but the questions always have this undertone now. because they just want your body.
minho sits next to you again, thigh pressed to yours DADA, and has actual conversations. “you like taking care of people, huh?” he says, eyes on your face. then, quieter, “must feel good when someone takes care of you back.” he wants to be the one making you feel good.
changbin is with you in the hallway again. “do you ever get lonely? with how much we keep you running around? you deserve someone who takes care of you too, you know.”
hyunjin keeps shoving half eaten shit into your hands but now he watches your mouth when you eat it. “good?” he asks. yeah sure whatever dude pull the willy out if you want it sucked so bad.
han once asks “you got any plans after schedule? maybe we could hang… talk more.” ??? the unprofessional ever.
seungmin asked you one day “you ever think about what you want outside of work? like… personal stuff?” the way he looked at you when he said “personal” made it clear he was imagining you spread out and moaning someone’s name. probably his.
once when the boys were talking, jeongin turned to you and asked “you, y/n? what do you do for release?” he clearly could have said to unwind or something, and he makes that known with a cheeky raise of his eyebrows too. fucking hell.
and you can tell chan is fighting with himself sometimes.
he’ll be in the middle of a conversation with you, genuinely business shit, and then something will run across his face. a tiny frown, a quick glance away, the responsible leader part of his brain is yelling “what the fuck are you doing, she’s staff” while the rest of him is just glad you exist. glad he has you. glad there’s someone who saw him at his really stressed and still chose to help without making it weird after.
most of the time the glad part wins. he lets you closer now.
the other seven? they don’t have that conflict.
they just want to hit.
bad.
they want to know what that mouth feels like. what those hands would do if they asked nicely (or not so nicely). they want to see if their sweet little assistant would get on her knees for them too, if she’d moan their name if it cane to that.
it’s horny, selfish, and they know all of them are on the same page. chan’s always so done with them when the topic comes to this.
and oh, hyunjin, the evil shit.
he waits until changbin mentions during lunch that he’s sleeping over at chan and jeongin’s dorm tomorrow night. boys are so cute when they’re excited about their little sleepovers. like aw they planned it one day sooner. hyune just nods and says nothing.
next day, after the evening schedule wraps, hyunjin finds you alone in the hallway while you’re packing up something.
he tugs your arm, pulls you closer than necessary, and says “y/n. come over tonight.”
“to yours?”
“yeah. changbin’s gone. it’ll just be me. i need help with something. personal. you know how it is.”
he doesn’t say it outright but the implication is thick as fuck. he waited until his own roommate, his best friend, was safely out of the picture. didn’t even hint to changbin. didn’t mention it to chan. just saw his opening and took it like the selfish pretty bitch he is. it’s an asshole move, one hundred percent. but hyunjin doesn’t care right now. he wants his turn. he wants to see if you’ll help him the way you helped chan.
you stand there, heart hammering, because you know exactly what he’s asking. he doesn’t know you know.
and you’re tempted.
and that’s how you end up at their place. well, right now just his.
you’re barely two steps inside when the door clicks shut behind you and hyunjin turns around.
oh, the lighting is actually nice. this is absolutely a nice place, fits them too, looks so good and combined with the smell of men—
“i want you to suck me off.”
you choke. your eyes go wide and you cough once, hard, hand flying up to your throat. “jesus fucking christ, hyunjin.”
“what? you did it for chan. i want it too.”
the confidence is insane.
you’re not even against it, the thought has been sitting in the back of your head ever since they all started acting weird, but jesus christ the delivery.
“okay… wow. straight to it, huh?” you mumble.
“why drag it out?” he says, already walking past you toward the couch. “we both know why you’re here. you’re not stupid. i’m not stupid.” he drops onto the couch, legs spread. “you can have a glass of wine first if you want. there’s some. or water. whatever makes you comfortable. but i’m not waiting all night.”
you stand there blinking, mouth still a little open. the audacity is actually impressive. “right.”
“then sit down for a second. talk if you want. or don’t. i don’t care.“
you do sit, on the other end of the couch, legs crossed, trying to act like this is a normal conversation. you talk a little about the schedules, how tired everyone looks, how you noticed they’ve all been… different lately.
hyunjin listens, nodding once or twice, but his eyes keep dropping to your lips. he’s not subtle. he clearly gives zero fuck about your feelings and wants his cock sucked like yesterday.
he’s straining against his jeans, god, but also… there’s this… romantic tension radiating off him. or maybe it’s leaning into the sexual territory too, but it is romantic, somewhere. both of you know something is about to go down and both of you know the other knows.
after a few minutes you sigh, rubbing your temple. “okay. sure. i’ll do it.”
his whole face changes. not a big smile, he’s too cool for that, but his eyes light up. eyebrows go up. he’s visibly more excited. “yeah?”
“yeah. just… keep it between us.”
“obviously.”
fucking liar.
okay both of you know chan did not hold his fucking mouth so saying it was straight up pointless. hyunjin seems even worse at keeping secrets, you’re putting less hope into this staying a secret than you did with chan.
but you’re just doing your job, after all. he’s your boss, up to him if he keeps it.
he yanks his belt open right then right there right away, the metal clinking and it sounds hot for some reason, then pops the button on his jeans but doesn’t push them down yet. just leaves them open, the zipper halfway down, the black waistband of his underwear already visible. he spreads his legs wider, one arm draped over the back of the couch ,and looks at you.
“come here then.”
okay. wow. right. okay. you move closer, then slowly sink down on the floor. it’s humiliating, considering he’s so above you in all aspects. that’s why it’s so hot.
the second you drop to your knees between his spread thighs his face, his expression shifts into something evil. satisfied, mostly. that beautiful smile, small, smug, evil, spreads across his pretty face.
“look at you.” he mutters.
he’s so hot it’s actually fucking unfair. like so unfair. fuck your fucking chungus life. that body relaxed on the couch like he was born to be serviced. this might be the perfect way to say it, born to be serviced. shame he’s also dumb and evil and weirdly romantic.
but right now he’s just a horny boy who waited until his roommate was gone so he could have you all to himself.
you settle between his legs, hands resting on his thighs. the denim is warm under your palms. his cock is already hard, been for a while, pushing against the black fabric, the outline calling your name. the tension in the room is stroking it by itself.
hyunjin reaches down, slow, and threads his fingers through your hair. “go on then, y/n. show me what you showed channie.”
you’re here for work.
so you lean in, breath ghosting over the bulge in his underwear, and watch the way his thighs tense under your hands and that satisfied smile spreads more. like he’s so happy that he’s smiling. it’s cute, if you think about it.
you reach up slowly, fingers helping tug the jeans down his thighs. they pool around his ankles and he kicks them off lazily, leaving him in just the black boxers that are so tented.
then you, slowly, peel those down too, his cock springs out, slapping up. makes your mouth water.
completely shaven, by the way. oiled and all this morning but wouldn’t tell a soul. prepared like a whore. knew he was gonna get his dick sucked tonight and wanted it perfect.
doesn’t care about you but gives a shit about how you experience him.
you wrap your hand around the base first, feeling him up. learning how the little guy works.
you squeeze gently, feeling the signature silky skin texture of dick, of genitals in general, slide over the hardness underneath, and hyunjin lets out this soft, breathy little sound that you’ve never heard from him before. a quiet “mmh…”
you start stroking him slow as fuck, up and down the whole length, thumb swirling over the head every time you reach the top. there’s not much pre for now, his dick isn’t as desperate as chan’s was, but you can work with anything.
you can always work with anything.
you spit into your other hand, loud and wet, and wrap it around him too, using both now, slicking him up until everything’s shiny and messy and dripping down over his bare balls. a little lube would help a lot but you won’t kill the mood now by having the audacity to ask for it.
hyunjin’s head tips back against the couch. “fuck… that’s good.” he murmurs, voice angelic. “just like that… yeah.“
he’s enjoying the hell out of it.
his balls are drawn up tight already, adorable how men’s bodies work, smooth and warm, and when you drag your fingers down to cup them he lets out another one of those pretty sounds, a quiet “ahh… shit” that makes your pussy throb because who the fuck knew evil reincarnated, hwang hyunjin(he’s not even that bad you two are just dramatic about each other) could sound like that.
you keep it torturously slow, just like you did with chan. long strokes from base to tip, twisting at the head, squeezing just right so some pre oozes out.
you lean in close enough that your breath ghosts over the wet head and hyunjin’s fingers tighten in your hair. he likes the power situation he’s in.
his cock is finally leaking now, easier to work with. slick. shiny. you can feel his heartbeat in it, pulsing under your palm, so smooth and pretty because he fucking prepared for you.
“mmh. fuck, y/n… slower for a second.” he breathes. he’s so into it his cheeks are flushed, lips parted, that pretty evil face looking soft and unreal, best word for this man, while you work him.
you slow down even more, dragging your fist up inch by inch, feeling every little part of him, all the textures he has to give you.
only if changbin knew.
you squeeze a little tighter on the upstroke and he moans. his hips thrust up into your fist, chasing the feeling, you can tell he’s a good dancer just by the way he moves his hips. how he’s rolling into your hand.
he’s enjoying this so much it’s almost sweet.
you spit on him again and keep going. slow, slick strokes. both hands working him perfectly. some spit running down your wrist.
his head stays tipped back, eyes mostly closed, mouth open to let those beautiful moans slip out.
you keep stroking him slowly with both hands(one would work too but his cock is more entertaining than his cute little balls so you took that hand up too), twisting at the head every time you reach the top.
then you lean in a little closer, part your lips, and poke your tongue out.
you swirl it around the swollen head once. the moment your tongue pushed down hyunjin gasps, “ah—!” as he snaps his head down at you, pretty face twisting into this grimace of pleasure. wasn’t really ready for how fucking good it feels.
“ah… yeah… mm—” he mumbles, hips twitching up into your fist, wanting more.
slut.
you open your mouth wider, take the head between your lips and suck, starting hard already, tongue flicking fast against the sensitive underside while your hands keep working the base in tight strokes.
his fingers tighten in your hair. his eyes close. his mouth is open.
you bob your head faster, taking him deeper with every slide, cheeks hollowing on the way up so you suck him tight and wet. also leaving spit behind so it glides smoother.
you pull off for a second just to spit on him again, then dive right back down, taking him halfway, then deeper, until the head bumps the back of your throat and you swallow around him.
he gasps, and his free hand grabs the couch cushion hard. you feel another spurt of pre cum coat in your mouth. ew but also hot.
you start a brutal rhythm, fast, sloppy, wet, head bobbing, hands twisting and stroking everything you can’t fit, sucking hard every time you pull back so your lips drag over the head. everytime you take him deep your nose presses against his skin and you can smell whatever product he used mixed with that warm musky boy scent that makes your pussy ache.
you were made for men.
hyunjin is making all these soft, breathy, pretty little sounds now that he knows he can, no one else around, no reason to stay quiet. little “ah… ahh” everytime you swallow around him, moans when you twist your hands just right, little whimpers when you suck hard on the head and swirl your tongue around the slit at the same time.
his hips start rolling up to meet your mouth, shallow little thrusts. you let him, opening your throat more, taking him deeper until your eyes water and spit runs down your chin in thick strings.
you reach down with one hand and cup his balls, rolling them gently, tugging to make him moan louder,
“ah, yes, fuck. right there—”
he looks down at you the whole time, eyes barely open, making you feel things(wtf), that pretty face flushed and grimacing with every wave of pleasure. he knew you’d be this good.
a bitch to you at work, by the way.
you pull off with a disgustingly(in the hot way) wet sound, strings of spit connecting your swollen lips to his glistening cock, then immediately lick a long stripe from his balls all the way up to the head, then kissing back down, sucking one ball into your mouth and humming around it while your hand strokes him fast, tight.
hyunjin’s back arches off the couch, a loud moan coming out of him as his thighs flex, holding him up.
you switch to the other ball, sucking gently, tongue rolling over the silky skin, then lick back up and swallow him down again in one move.
you set a sweet little pace, deepthroating him over and over, gagging softly when he hits the back of your throat, spit and pre everywhere, dripping down your chin, soaking his balls, running down your wrist.
“ahh… mmh— god yes… just like that… you’re gonna make me cum so fucking hard…” his fingers are tight in your hair, guiding you just a little, hips rolling up to fuck your mouth, kind of.
you’re so turned on it hurts.
he throws his head back, mouth open, pretty face completely twisted up as he lets every sound out. breathy moans, humiliating whimpers, everything you can imagine coming from that pretty mouth that usually just hints for you to fuck off.
you suck him like a fucking vacuum. you take him as deep as you can, relaxing your throat until the fat head pushes past a muscle ring, your nose pressed into him as you gag and choke.
hyunjin is seeing heaven.
you hold there for a second, swallowing around him, struggling to, letting your throat squeeze and milk him while your tongue works the underside as much as you can make it.
hyunjin’s hips jerk up(painful to you) and he lets out this little “ahh— fuck—!” that sounds way too pretty for how evil he usually is.
you pull back slowly, dragging your lips tight along every inch, sucking hard so his cock comes out glossy and throbbing, a string of spit and pre stretching before you dive back down, head bobbing again, gluck gluck gluck.
you gag on him on purpose sometimes, wet little chokes, makes your eyes water and spit run down your chin in rivers. everytime you do it he moans louder.
you’re doing amazing and you know it. you switch it up constantly, not keeping a pace on purpose so he won’t cum that fast, deepthroating him until your nose is buried and your throat bulges, then pulling off to focus just on the head, sucking hard and fast while your tongue flicks and swirls around the sensitive slit, lapping up every fresh bead of pre that keeps leaking out.
you spit on him again, letting it drip down his smooth shaft before you stroke it in with both hands and suck the head back into your mouth. natural talent.
hyunjin’s mouth is hanging open now, pretty face completely twisted up, one eye closed as he stares down at you.
his mouth forms this perfect little o, eyebrows furrowed. the pleasure is unbearable. the soft breathy moans turn into real loud moans.
every time you swallow him deep his voice cracks higher, prettier, more powerful, and you don’t leave him hanging.
your head bobs faster, sloppy, throat suffering around him on every downstroke while your hand twists around the base you can’t fit without pain in your throat.
you press two fingers right behind his balls, rubbing that sensitive spot, and hyunjin’s whole body jerks, mouth dropping open wider as he lets out the loudest, prettiest moan yet.
thin hot ropes of cum shoot straight down your throat. pulse after pulse. weak, kind of, not what chan had. the taste is bitter and salty and kinda gross, but you keep sucking through it, swallowing every drop because he’s hot and mean and evil and you want it.
hyunjin’s hips stutter up into your mouth, cock jerking and twitching as he keeps cumming, more and more spurts meeting your skilled tongue. his fingers are gripping your hair so tight it hurts while his balls pulse in your hand, emptying everything he’s been saving up for this.
you swallow again and again, throat working around his throbbing cock, drinking down every bitter salty spurt until he’s finally empty and oversensitive.
even then you don’t stop right away, keep sucking gently, tongue swirling softly now over the head, getting the last weak drops out while he twitches and whimpers, soft little “mmh… mmh…” sounds.
his fingers loosen in your hair, stroking through it now almost tenderly. crazy that we got here from him shoving half eaten things into your hands. what a bitch.
you finally pull off, glad for air, strings of spit and leftover cum connecting your swollen lips to his spent cock. you swallow one last time, wiping your chin with a finger.
he stares down at you, eyes blown, chest rising slowly now.
“holy… fuck.” he breathes. “you’re… actually insane at that.”
you sit back on your heels, lips shiny and puffy, wipe your spit off your chin. like you didn’t just swallow his entire load while gagging on his dick.
“told you i’d do it.”
he takes his hand from your hair to tuck his spent cock back into his boxers with those pretty fingers. he pulls his jeans up just enough to button them.
“you want me to order something? food? anything you like. or… there’s drinks in the fridge. water, juice, that wine i mentioned earlier. i can get it for you. or— fuck, you can stay a bit longer if you want. just… chill.” a little too gentle for the usual hyunjin.
your jaw aches and your panties are soaked. “tempting, but was there actually something you needed help with tonight? or did you just want your dick sucked?”
he blinks. then lets out a short, embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “…just wanted my dick sucked.”
hm. you nod, then reach up and give his thigh a comforting, very professional squeeze. “okay. then i’ll head home now. you should get some rest too.”
his face drops instantly. disappointment. those pretty eyes widen a bit, brows pulling together, mouth opening. because who the fuck is hyunjin if not the type to catch feelings the second someone drains his balls properly? he just got the best head of his life and now you’re about to leave??
“wait— already?” he looks actually… kind of lost. “you don’t have to go right now. it’s late, but… stay for a bit. we can talk or something. i’ll order food, seriously. or at least let me drive you home.”
you stand up slowly, smoothing your clothes, keeping that sweet professionalism on your face even though your legs feel a little shaky. “i know, hyunjin. but i really need to sleep. goodnight, okay? get some rest.”
he looks so fucking disappointed it’s funny.
“y/n…” he tries again, softer, romantic. “c’mon. just a little longer. i— fuck, that was really good.“
“i’m glad you liked it. but i’m going home now. sleep well.”
it hits him like ice water. as hard as the cold water was explained in titanic. you… you don’t feel the same way he does. you have no “maybe next time i’ll stay” energy coming off you or a lingering look that says you want more.
you don’t give a fuck about him.
???
this was a clear message that this was a one time service, not the start of anything. that you’re not interested in him like that. not tonight, and probably not ever.
you turn toward the door and get your shoes on before he can come up with another excuse. he stands up fast, jeans still half open, and follows you a couple steps.
so needy.
“y/n…” he starts. at the door, he’s towering over you. still radiating that post nut warmth, and for a second he looks like he really wants to kiss you. eyes dropping to your swollen lips.
you just pat his chest once, light and friendly, right over his heart. “goodnight.”
then you let yourself out the door before he can say anything else.
he’s… hurt. the dismissal? the polite squeeze on his thigh? the pat you just gave him? the way you made it crystal clear you’re not staying, not cuddling, not interested in him beyond “helping” like you helped chan?
he wants you more now. fuck.
he wants to wipe that professional little smile off your face. he wants to hear you moan his name instead of just sucking him off in silence. he wants to make you stay next time, make you beg a little, make you look at him the way you probably looked at chan that night.
(you looked at him and chan the same way when you sucked them off. unlike them, you’re actually doing this for the business)
he drops onto the couch, still smelling like spit and cum and your perfume, and stares at the ceiling.
sigh.
okay. where is his phone? on the ground. must have fallen out his pocket when he fought his pants off.(pants off. you were the reason for that. you sucked him off. wow.)
group chat with the boys it is.
hyunjin: y/n sucked me off
hyunjin: came over
hyunjin: left already
let’s quote what you two talked about before you gave him head. “yeah. just… keep it between us.” “obviously.” genuinely how men keep secrets. dearest reader, don’t trust a boy with your secrets, ever.
han: WHAT
han: ???
jeongin: bro… you waited until bin was gone??? that’s so fucking foul lmao
jeongin: but also respect
jeongin: how was it tho?? she deepthroat? swallow?
hyunjin: both
jeongin: 🤤
felix: omg what
felix: my turn when
seungmin: respect ig
minho: 😂😂😂
(he’s looking at his screen with a straight face)
chan: hyune what the fuck did you do?
changbin just seen the messages.
what’s currently happening is changbin and chan are looking at each other. chan has his eyes about to fall out of his head. changbin has his little mouth open. the shock in the air.
then jeongin comes out of his room in just boxers again, phone in hand, laughing at the two.
changbin finally closes his mouth, cheeks pink. “he didn’t even tell me he was inviting her over. that’s so mean.”
“he’s an asshole for not saying anything.” chan mutters.
and hyunjin is pissed you left so easily. pissed you didn’t stay. pissed you made it feel like just another task.
but mostly he’s horny again.
the next day, the moment you step into the practice floor, you fucking know they know.
because they’re all… calm. weirdly, suspiciously calm.
eight grown men who definitely know you sucked two of their dicks.
hyunjin is sitting against a mirror, stretching his arms overhead. when he sees you come in he lifts one hand in a cute little wave.
“morning, y/n.” the asshole.
you nod back, polite as ever. “morning.”
chan is checking something on some tablet, but when you hand him something he asked for yesterday, he looks up at you.
“thanks. you sleep okay?”
you smile. “yeah, i did. you?”
“better than usual.” then goes back to his tablet.
changbin smiles at you and bows a lil. han gives you a little “woah, you’re early today” giving you space like a respectful grown man. it’s almost scarier than when he was all over your lap. felix nods once with a small, friendly smile. jeongin looks a bit shy, smiling at you with that beautiful mouth. minho stays cool, as usual. you admire how mature he is. seungmin, mr nonchalant, takes his stuff with a neutral “thanks” y’know, the usual.
and… the day’s normal. it’s fucking eerie. “y/n, towel please.” “y/n, can you check my phone?” y/n this, y/n that.
how are you not fired yet? you had two of their dicks in your mouth. two.
by the time the day ends at 11pm everyone is exhausted. god, you’d give them a break if you could. but for now, all you can do is make their days easier.
they thank you one by one as they head out, eye contact, small nods. manly. they’re cute.
cute on purpose. these are actors.
chan squeezes your shoulder gently before he leaves. “good work today. go home and sleep.” and hyunjin smiles at you with a raise of his brows.
that’s about all the extra shit that happened. nothing else, for now.
you finally make it back to your place close to midnight, feet aching, brain dead, full of thoughts. surprisingly, even though you get anxious easily, you know you can’t come off wrong from this situation, so you don’t feel bad.
the boys have whole careers at stake doing this, not you. so you’re fine. horny. feel powerful.
you can feel how every single one of them is now waiting, patient and polite(on the surface, just again, they were trained to act), to see what happens next.
tomorrow is going to be another long day.
cuz like… every single one of them is trying, really trying, to stay professional. they’re idols, after all. contracts, image, cameras everywhere.
but they also just really, really want to get some.
that comes out on different levels, though. and they control it on different levels too.
like, chan is relatively good at it, even though he already got a taste. he just… wants it again, that’s the case.
he’s doing the best job at pretending nothing changed, but every time you lean close to give him something or adjust his collar he remembers your mouth stretched around him and his throat goes tight.
he’s glad he has you, genuinely glad, but the guilt is eating at him. conflict looks good on him.
minho is way too mature to act on his desire. i mean, when the time feels right he’ll ask, he thinks. or maybe he won’t ask at all. maybe he’ll just pull you into his lap one day and see what happens. for now he sits, and sees.
changbin feels a little betrayed that hyunjin didn’t tell him, but mostly he feels this warm, nervous want. he’s scared to ask. terrified, actually. so he just stays close, hoping you’ll notice how great he is.
“does your back hurt carrying all our stuff? you can lean on me if you want…” NOT. SUBTLE. BUDDY.
hyunjin, fucking hell, hyunjin. he’s noticeably nicer to you. much more fair because boys are only nice to girls who they would fuck. and hyunjin, as we know, wants that cookie. bad.
well, he doesn’t like you, he likes your mouth. big difference.
han wants to ask so bad. he wants to know if you’d bounce on his dick the way you bounced him on your lap. but even he has enough brain cells to know blurting “can you suck me off too?” would be insane. so he just keeps touching, keeps hoping you’ll offer like you did for the others. embarrassiiiing.
felix is praying. like, literally. plus, he doesn’t know how he should reach out, or if he even should. he’s waiting for the right moment, playing it cool while internally begging whatever higher power exists to let him have a turn. plus he has more serious mental tortures than this now, he wants pussy but it’s not his main goal now.
oh, seungmin notices when hyunjin is nicer to you. he notices when chan watches you longer or wants you around for a longer time.
the thought of actually asking you “hey y/n, can you suck me off like you did for the others?” makes him want to throw up from nerves. he’s too shy.
jeongin, with the boys, aka his comfort zone, he’s all cheeky, clapping arms and making gross jokes and whatever thing only boys do and is so cute actually. but the second he’s alone with you, he gets shy. his cheeks go pink when he has to ask you for something simple.
he keeps replaying the night you saw him in just boxers, god, why wasn’t he interested in you(the services your mouth has) then?
everytime he opens his mouth to say something flirty it dies in his throat and he ends up mumbling “thanks, y/n…” and he scurries away to hide behind minho.
he’s your boss. he’s bigger than you in any possible situation. but right now he feels small and stupid and so fucking horny he could cry. he likes you. that makes asking for head feel impossible!
and through the next days, you really clearly begin to see them lose their professionalism. well, not completely lose it, they’re not that piss brained, but they’re clearly doing shit they can get castrated for if caught.
but they trust you though not to spill anything.
chan talks with you during lunch one day. like, the two of you separate from other people. it’s nice, he actually opens up more, tells you about a song he’s writing that’s too personal(boundaries daddy, boundaries), asks what you think. his hand brushes your lower back when he thanks you. his dick is hard the entire conversation. he wants your mouth again so fucking bad but he’s also starting to want the conversations. duality of man.
jeongin tries to talk to you twice and both times chickens out. first time he opens his mouth, says “y/n, can i—” then turns bright red and pretends he needed water. second time he just blurts “hi hey hello” and immediately wants to die.
minho sits next to you on a couch while you’re on your laptop. doesn’t say much, just lives around next to you. when the boys start shouting at each other across the room he laughs loud with them. it’s cute. he has a beautiful smile.
seungmin gives you the usual quiet “hi” when you hand him something. later you overhear him making every one of them laugh their fucking asses off. around you? radio silence. weird, how he works.
the others behave. mostly. nothing else weird happened, but still, their brains are 90% cum and 10% “what if she sucks me off next.”
hyunjin is the best at the whole nothing happened game. he’s a professional little actor when he wants to be. during morning rehearsal he barks “y/n, my water” in the exact same pissy tone as always, but then he actually throws a “thanks” your way?? in this economy??
he wants to drag you into a storage closet or something and make you stay this time, but he’s too good at pretending. he just gets a little nicer, holding a door for you once, even. holy shit.
changbin does try though. again, unprofessional, and he knows that, and he follows you down the hallway again anyway.
“y/n, do you like strawberries? i saw this new cafe that does strawberry milk… not that i’m asking you out or anything, just… if you ever want one after schedule…” he trails off, cheeks pink, then quickly adds “or i can just bring you one here. or whatever.”
when hyunjin walks past and gives you a tiny nod changbin wants to go after him and choke the guy.
usually, the days just blur together, and you’re thrilled to see how they’re going to reach out next.
one afternoon hyunjin “accidentally” drops his towel right in front of you and when you bend down to pick it up he mutters “keep it” like it’s a gift instead of his sweaty ass towel. chan sees it and gives hyunjin the world’s most disappointed dad look(paired with a boyish little scoff, wow chan you almost looked mature for a second) but then later pulls you aside himself, asking if you want to go over some things with him after practice “just the two of us, no pressure.” you say sure and he’s visibly nervous.
what a time to be employed.
yeah, you and chan do start building something, even if it’s not consciously built.
he pulls you aside more during work, technically always asking about work related things but really it’s just hanging out. he needs something only you seem to give him.
he wants that cookie so fucking bad.
mostly the relief it gives. the way your mouth turned his brain off for ten beautiful minutes and let him breathe like a normal twenty something guy instead of the guy carrying eight careers on his back.
one afternoon after a killer dance practice he’s drenched in sweat that you so want to lick off, chest heaving, and he waves the others off. “i’ll stay a bit longer. y/n, can you help me go over the new formation notes?”
the boys leave, shooting looks, but nobody says shit.
it’s just you and chan in the empty practice room, mirrors reflecting you two from every angle.
he sits on the floor against the wall, legs stretched out, and pats the spot next to him. you sit. he smells like humans(in the good way) and that expensive cologne and pure man.
you go over the notes but after ten minutes the papers are forgotten on the floor between you.
“you know… that night.” he starts, staring at the mirror instead of you. “it helped more than i thought it would. not just the… physical part. having someone who doesn’t expect anything back. who just helps.” he rubs the back of his neck, cringe ass but it actually means a lot, coming from him. “i keep thinking about it. it was nice. you’re nice to have around, y/n.”
“thank you. really, means a lot that i can help.”
now you’re professional. you don’t tell him what you feel on a deeper level, just the surface shit. noncommittal.
he wants the relief again so bad he can taste it. he wants to feel your throat squeeze around him he wants to cum so hard he forgets the comeback schedule for five whole minutes.
but he doesn’t ask. he’s really trying to keep himself in line because he has shit to focus on. he has work, for fuck’s sake.
it’s… a fucking joke. their careers, their contracts, their reputations, all of it could go up in flames if one wrong person finds out, but right now every single one of them is thinking with the head between their legs instead of the one on their shoulders.
chan feels the most responsibility, but he’s still using every charm trick in the book. just again, they were trained to charm people, and he’s using that.
mr leader knows exactly what he’s doing when he pulls you into quiet corners “just to talk.” when his voice gets a little softer, a little slower. what a charmer.
even though he’s aware of all the risks, he still does it.
because he wants the relief so bad. he wants your mouth again. he wants the way you make the torture in his head stop.
so he charms you gently, carefully, building whatever this is. he feels bad about it. but not bad enough to stop, because it’s… it’s like an addiction. it is an addiction, the way addicts know the drug is bad for them but they’re already reaching for the next dose because their body got to know it and now needs it. that’s what’s happening, basically.
blowjob can NOT be this good.
(it can. you really are a talent at giving them, y/n)
the others don’t feel anything at all. they just want to get some action. plain and simple.
like, hyunjin is nicer???(it’s working. you can feel it.) han asks questions that feel personal??? minho uses that idol trained eye contact that makes you feel like the only girl in the room even when there are twenty staff members running around??? seungmin lets you go ahead of him??? felix giggles at everything you say??? jeongin’s eyes are always on you whatever you’re doing??? changbin follows you around all day???
it’s all so fucking unprofessional it’s almost impressive.
these men have everything to lose.
but they’re still thinking with their dicks.
they know one leaked rumor could end everything. but the thought of your mouth, your hands, some relief, pussy, makes their heads turn.
they linger. they find excuses. it’s stupid.
but they’re trained to charm.
they’re trained to get what they want.
and right now what they want more than anything is you getting them off. men can really want a thought when they already settled into it in their heads.
and work is just so much, so stressing, that chan just neeeeds you at their place again!
so you go.
it’s late. jeongin’s already asleep in his room. the only light is the soft glow from chan’s laptop on the desk and the small lamp beside his bed. you’re both sitting on the edge of his bed, laptops open, going over shit.
but the air is thick.
chan has been restless the entire evening, shifting his weight, rubbing the back of his neck, whatnot. you can feel the tension coming off him.
finally, after ten straight minutes of him staring at the same line on the screen without typing anything, he closes his laptop with a quiet click.
“y/n.”
you look up.
he takes a rough breath, eyes flicking away for a second before they come back to you. visibly fighting with himself. “i… fuck. this is hard to ask. i know we said one time. but tonight… i… i think i really need another… one. if you’d be willing to… do that again. for me.”
you immediately close your laptop, set it aside, slide off the bed, dropping to your knees between his spread thighs without a word.
holy shit.
his eyes actually widen.
wow.
how did he get his lucky?
“thank you.” he says immediately, shakily taking the laptop off his lap. “i— i appreciate this more than i can say right now. seriously. you don’t know how much.”
you smile up at him, hands resting on his thick thighs. “i got you.”
your palms slide up his thighs, feeling the hard muscle tense under the thin sweatpants. you press your thumbs into the seam where his legs meet his hips, rubbing small circles, feeling him under the fabric. the human. the man.
chan’s breath hitches, watching you.
you’re an angel. sent to him personally from the clouds of heaven.
you lean in and press a soft, open mouthed kiss to the inside of his left thigh, right above the knee, then another a little higher.
chan’s fingers twitch against his legs.
you move to the right thigh, repeating the same kisses, working your way up inch by inch while your hands keep rubbing soothing patterns on the outside of his thighs.
when you reach the crease where his leg meets his groin you pause, breathing warm air through the fabric right over the growing bulge. you can already see the luring outline forming, starting to push against the (disgustingly expensive, but he can afford it so whatever) material.
“fuck… y/n…”
you take a soft breath, then mouth gently along the length of him through the sweatpants, lips parted, tongue pressing on the fabric so he can feel what’s about to come.
you trace the entire shape of him, base to tip, slow and sensual, feeling him thicken and harden under your mouth until the fabric is stretched.
this is the hottest thing anyone has ever done to him.
your hands slide higher, fingers hooking into the waistband. you kiss the spot right above the waistband, then drag your tongue in a slow, wet stripe up the center of his abs over his shirt. the muscle jumps.
chan’s head tips back slightly, throat working as he swallows hard. fucking hell, this is unreal. he’s going to bust now.
your tug the pants down reeeaaal slow, letting the fabric move on his skin. letting him feel he’s alive. he lifts his hips to help, breath catching when the cool air hits him.
his boxers come next, you peel them down carefully, watching his cock come free.
he’s manscaped now. oh, hello. completely. smooth skin all around the base, not a single hair left, balls silky and bare because he took the time to do this just in case you ended up here again.
the sight makes your mouth water. the intent makes your mouth water. his cock looks even bigger without the hair. it twitches the second your eyes land on it, bobbing once like it knows you’re looking. hi to you too.
you wrap one hand around the base first, gentle, feeling the warmth of him, the way the smooth skin slides over the hardness underneath. chan lets out a low, shaky exhale through his nose, thighs tensing under your palm. you give him one slow stroke from root to tip, thumb pressing lightly right under the head(where you learned he’s most sensitive. that’s intimate.) his cock jumps in your grip, a thick drop of pre leaking out and sliding down the shaft, making your work easier.
god, this man is pouring pre compared to what you had to work with on hyunjin. but you’re not complaining about either.
“fuck…” he mutters, one hand coming down to hold on the back of your head.
you smile up at him, then look back down to lean in closer, breath ghosting over him, and drag your tongue in one long stripe from the base all the way up to the head.
chan’s whole body shudders.
you swirl your tongue around the head once, tasting the saltiness, then pull back to watch his reaction.
his cock twitches again, harder this time, another bead of pre pushing out right where your tongue just was.
you lean back in and lick it off slowly, dragging the tip of your tongue over the slit, pressing hard enough to make him hiss softly between his teeth.
one hand strokes him long while the other cups his smooth balls, rolling them gently in your palm, feeling how warm and heavy they are, how they tighten up everytime you lick over the head. you tug lightly on his sack, making his hips twitch up, and chan groans, fingers flexing in your hair.
“thank you… fuck, thank you.”
you’re welcome, daddy.
you lick him again, slower this time, tracing every vein with the tip of your tongue, feeling the way his cock jumps and leaks for you with every pass. you pull him down slightly with your hand so you can drag your tongue along the sensitive underside, right where the head meets the shaft, and chan almost leans forward from the pleasure. this is way better than fucking his first in the shower.
his cock is fully hard now, standing thick and flushed and glossy with your spit and his pre, the shaved skin making every little reaction so much more visible. the way it throbs, the way the head swells darker every time you swirl your tongue around it, the way his balls draw up tighter in your hand because they’re already getting close.
you keep stroking him with a slow, sensual rhythm, twisting your wrist just right at the top, thumb pressing into the slit to spread the fresh pre around while your tongue follows right behind, licking and teasing and tasting.
chan’s breathing is getting heavier, chest rising and falling under his shirt. he’s already relieved.
you pull his skin down again, licking slow circles around the head, then take just the tip into your mouth, sucking softly while your hand keeps stroking the rest of him, tight.
chan lets out this low groan, head tipping back, the sound vibrating through his whole hot body.
you look up at him from between his thick thighs and jesus fucking christ he’s hot.
his chest is rising and falling under his (white)shirt, sweat starting to bead at his hairline because he’s running so fucking warm. his cock literally radiating warmth in your hand. it’s been dying for this. for your touch again.
he reaches down to pull his shirt off.
chan. shirtless.
skin and pure muscle right in front of your face. his abs and pecs flex when he tosses the fabric aside, a light layer of sweat already making him glow under the lamp. oh that’s dada. big manly body, veins standing out on his arms, bruises from all the treatments he gets, cupping and allat, that deep v line pointing straight to his smooth shaved cock. no need to point here you come.
you open your mouth wide, tongue flat, and take him in deep right from the start. the head slides over your tongue, thick and hot and salty, unpleasant but also hot, and you don’t stop until your nose is buried in that smooth shaved skin at his base.
he actually has to whip his head up.
you hold him there for a second, swallowing hard, letting your throat work him while your nose presses into his warm skin.
you pull back slowly, lips dragging along every thick inch, sucking hard so your cheeks hollow. you don’t pull off tho. you bob your head instead, taking him to the back of your throat over and over, gagging. spit runs down your chin. everytime you push down your throat squeezes around the head and chan’s hips twitch up.
“thank you, y/n… god thank you…”
you look up at him while you suck, eyes watering, lips formed obscenely around his shaft, and the eye contact makes him cry out. jeongin sleeping next room be damned.
he’s so hot like this. you can see how much he wants this, how bad he’s been thinking about your mouth since last time. that’s also told by the way his cock leaks constantly now, just again, brutal compared to what hyunjin gave you, thick salty pre coating your tongue and sliding down your throat every time you take him. he’s too hot for you to mind the taste.
you pull off with a wet squelch, strings of spit connecting your swollen lips to his glistening cock, and spit on him, then stroke your fingers up and down his slick shaft while you suck just the head hard. your tongue swirls around the sensitive underside, flicking right where it meets the head, and chan’s whole body jerks.
“ah, fuck— right there—”
you take him back down, nose to skin, and start bobbing faster, head moving, gluck gluck on him. spit is everywhere, running down your chin, dripping off your jaw, soaking his smooth balls and thighs.
you reach up with one hand and roll his balls gently, tugging them down to make him hiss then moan. cock jumps hard in your mouth at that, another spurt of pre arriving on your tongue. you like how much he gives you.
the attraction between you two is insane. you can feel how much he wants you, how grateful he is, how he’s truly living in this moment. and you’re so fucking attracted to him it hurts. it’s mutual.
you suck harder. deeper. sloppier. you take him all the way every time, throat working around him, nose pressed to him while your tongue licks the underside. you gag on purpose, letting your throat spasm around the head, and chan groans loud and long, head falling back.
he’s actually letting out little moans now between the loud hisses. you can feel how close he is, how bad he wants to cum.
you look up again and lock eyes with him while your lips are stretched around the base of his cock, throat full, spit dripping down your chin, and the pure animal attraction in his gaze makes your stomach flip.
he’s so fucking grateful and so fucking turned on he doesn’t know what to do with it.
you’re doing it so fucking well. you’re making him feel so good.
his hips snap up. his thick cock drives straight into your throat with a desperate thrust. the head punches past the ring of muscle in there and buries itself deep, stretching your throat wide open.
you gag hard around him, throat convulsing, eyes watering instantly as spit explodes out the corners of your mouth and you instinctively try to pull back.
but oh, look at that, he’s holding your head in place.
“fuck, sorry.” he moans, but his hips do come up again, slower this time but still greedy, pushing another inch deeper.
he starts thrusting.
animal, hungry snaps of his hips that force his thick cock in and out of your face. every thrust makes a wet, obscene ack sound as your throat bulges around him. spit flies everywhere, splattering onto his balls, running down your neck.
his big hand tightens in your hair, gripping hard to hold you right where he needs you. his other hand braces on the bed behind him so he can fuck your mouth deeper. his abs are clenched and moving, v line flexing every time he drives up, sweat sliding down the lines and dips of his muscles.
he’s whining and moaning and groaning for you. holy fuck you might die but he’s hot.
tears spill down your cheeks, mixing with the spit, but you keep your eyes locked on him the whole time.
fuck, he looks... angelic. naked, sweaty, mouth open, eyes dumb as he watches his thick cock disappear between your lips over and over. sometimes head tipping back for a second before he looks back down.
he starts really pounding.
deep, brutal thrusts that force his cock all the way down until his balls smack wetly against your chin.
spit bubbles out around the sides of your stretched lips, dripping in long strings onto the floor. it’ll dry, no big deal.
you take it. you want it. even when your eyes are streaming tears and your gag reflex keeps trying to fight back and it hurts both your throat and stomach, you relax your throat as much as you can and let him ruin it. your nails dig into his thighs, holding on for dear life.
you can feel how close he is. the way his thighs shake around your head. the way his abs clench harder. the way his body moves.
he fucks your face faster, hips snapping up desperately, using your mouth like a toy. “y/n— i’m— fuck— i’m gonna— ahh—”
one last deep, brutal thrust, cock buried to the hilt, your nose smashed against his smooth skin, throat stretched wide around him, and he starts cumming with a long, wild groan.
you gag around his length, cum and spit forcing its way back up around his cock because there’s just too much. it leaks out the corners of your stretched lips, running down your chin, white and disgusting, running down your neck while he keeps pumping cum into you.
chan’s whole body is shaking, groaning as he empties himself.
“fuck— yes— good girl, yeah.”
okay suddenly it doesn’t hurt.
who are you kidding it hurts so much.
some of it comes back up, mixing with all the spit, making everything disgusting, your nails still dug into his thighs as you throw his cum up around him.
when the last weak spurt finally dribbles onto your tongue, chan slumps back against the bed, chest heaving, cock still deep in your throat.
you slowly pull off, coughing and gasping for air, strings of cum and spit and lowk stomach acid connecting your swollen lips to his cock. you have to spit out what’s left in your mouth, really wouldn’t be able to take that down now, then wipe your chin with the back of your hand, smearing it across your skin, breathing loud.
chan reaches down immediately, thumb brushing your wet cheek. “fuck, y/n, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to be that rough. you okay?”
you look up at him, lips puffy, face messy, and nod. it hurts. “i’m fine. i wanted it.” you sound so bad.
he lets out a shaky breath. wow. “thank you.”
“anytime, chan.”
…
the air changes from the eye contact alone.
…is this really going to happen?
your heart starts hammering so loud you can hear it in your ears. you can see the exact moment the thought crosses his mind.
his eyes drop to your mouth again, then lower, tracing the mess on your chin, the way your chest is heaving. his hand, still in your hair, flexes in it.
he shouldn’t.
he knows he shouldn’t.
you’re his assistant. this already crossed multiple lines two times now.
but the way he’s looking at you says he wants to cross every single one of them tonight.
is this really going to happen?
is he really about to cross that line?
fuck it.
he leans down, and kisses you.
line crossed.
it’s deep, hungry, and shockingly soft at first. his lips are warm, so big, so manly. then it deepens. his mouth opens in time with yours, tongue slides against yours, slow, wet, making you shiver.
he murmurs a “come here.” and his hands slide under your arms, lifting you up towards him.
you climb up his body, knees sinking into the bed on either side of his hips, and he leans back until he’s lying flat, pulling you down on top of him so your chest presses against his bare, sweaty one.
his hands immediately find your ass.
big, warm palms cupping you fully, fingers digging in. he squeezes, he’s been dying to know what you feel like there.
a satisfied groan escapes him when he realizes how perfect you fit in his hands.
“fuck…” he breathes against your mouth, kissing you again, slower this time but just as deep and wet and disgusting, tongue licking into you. he knows you taste like this because he was in your mouth. maybe he’ll get to experience your mouth purely one day too. his hips roll up, searching for you(so cute), poking the head of his thickening cock against your lower stomach.
he wants it so bad.
he wants to be completely naked under you while you stay fully clothed.
he wants to feel every inch of your body pressed against his bare skin, your clothes rubbing against his cock, your hands on his chest while he lies there exposed and desperate. he wants to watch you live on the line between professional and the girl who just swallowed his load. he wants your weight on him, your ass in his hands, your mouth on his again while he’s completely vulnerable underneath you.
there is no more “fuck i know i shouldn’t” both of you are completely in it now. both of you have accepted that this is happening, even though you don’t exactly know where it’ll end up. but it’s happening. and it feels so fucking good.
and god, the way he’s sucking on your bottom lip, biting it gently, then licking into your mouth again with these low groans and moans? irresistible.
your bodies are pressed together so tight it’s… it’s the most intimate you’ve been with this man and you’ve literally had his dick down your throat twice. his bare chest is sweaty, hot under your shirt, nipples hard little points, the little guys basically looking for you as you’re holding yourself up above him.
he breaks the kiss with a wet pop and immediately latches onto your neck.
“fuck…” you whisper, head tilting to the side.
his lips are warm and big and perfect on him and for you, sucking marks you’ll have to cover tomorrow.
are you really letting your boss do this?
yeah, no doubt. it’s too addictive to stop.
he keeps going, sucking a bruise right where your neck meets your shoulder, then just softly sucking at it some more.
“mmh… you taste so good.” mr unprofessional mutters into your skin, sucking another mark. his hands squeeze your ass harder, fingers sinking into the soft flesh, kneading it, pleasuring his little man mind.
he takes the two big handfuls and pulls your cheeks apart, spreading you wide even through your pants. you can feel the stretch. you can feel the fabric of your underwear pulling against your asshole, the cool air hitting the sensitive little ring for a split second before his hands push you back together. he does it again, harder, pulling your ass open so wide that the seam of your pants digs right against your clit and you actually feel your hole stretch a tiny bit, that weird, dirty little tug that makes your whole pussy clench hard.
you cry out.
high and needy and shocked at how good it feels. your hips jerk down against his cock on instinct, grinding, god, what a good girl you are, and chan exhales into your neck with a sound.
because oh… you like that?
he does it again, slower, pulling your ass cheeks so far apart you feel your asshole stretch open just a little more, tells you everything. he’s testing. he’s curious. he’s so fucking turned on by the idea that his sweet little assistant likes having her ass played with that he can’t help himself.
he keeps kneading, keeps spreading, imagining what it would feel like without clothes.
every time he pulls hard you feel that delicious, dirty stretch, the way your asshole flutters and it’s all for your boss.
you’re whimpering into his shoulder now, face buried in his neck, hips rolling around to bear with the feeling.
chan might actually marry you.
he’s so hard again it has to hurt. his cock is leaking between you, you can feel the wet spot on your pants from it, the head of his dick catching right against your mound when he rolls his hips up to meet you.
he pulls your ass apart again, really hard this time, thumbs spreading you so wide you swear you can feel the cool air in your actual hole for a second.
“ah, fuck—” you cry out.
that makes his cock jump against you. so sweet, the way it reacts to your voice.
he spreads you wide, mouth still sucking marks into your neck, holds you open for a long second, then lets your cheeks snap back together before doing it all over again. every pull makes your asshole stretch and flutter, every squeeze makes your pussy clench and leak into your panties. you’re so wet it’s embarrassing.
you shift, you can’t even decide who’s more unprofessional now, you or him, because you do that so your clit can be the part where his cock is grinding to.
holy fuck.
his breathing gets hotter, humanly intimate, hot puffs against your neck. his cock is sliding between your folds now through two layers of clothes.
he pulls your ass open one more time, extra slow, extra wide, thumbs pressing right next to your hole.
he’s thinking about something.
you can feel the way your asshole stretches, the little ring of muscle pulling, and the pleasure of it makes your eyes roll back for a second. you cry out again, louder, hips stuttering down hard against his cock.
one of his hands shifts. his pointer finger slides down the crease of your ass, pressing over your pants, right against that stretched little hole. rubs slow circles over it, feeling the way your asshole flutters under the fabric every time he presses down.
the cheeky little shit.
and he keeps kissing your neck, sucking marks, grinding his cock up against your clothed pussy while his finger teases your asshole over your clothes. and here you thought he was vanilla.
oh, right, yeah, you. you’re shaking on top of him now, whimpering, grinding down desperately while his finger keeps pushing your hole.
he’s so hot under you. so fucking big and warm and hard and grateful and greedy all at once. his other hand is still kneading the other cheek, spreading it open so his finger can keep playing with your asshole. his mouth is still on your neck, sucking and licking and biting, leaving himself behind.
it feels so fucking good.
deep down, you needed this almost just as much as he needs your blowjobs. you’re stressed too, well, not carrying your whole group on your back like he does, but no matter how deep the water is if someone’s drowning.
point is, you’ve been pent up too.
and you really needed this tension now.
but… okay, you do need it, but how will it affect your career? you’re building a life for yourself still. you’re so young, and if you fumble this chance to grow yourself now…
fuck. fine.
“chan, wait.” you stammer, breathless. your hands push lightly at his chest, feeling the sweaty muscle underneath your palms. “we… we shouldn’t—”
“c’mon…”
it’s dripping with everything he’s not saying out loud, how bad he wants you, how good you feel on top of him, how he’s been thinking about this since the first time you dropped to your knees.
his finger presses a little firmer into your asshole, and his other hand squeezes your ass harder, pulling you down so his cock grinds up against your soaked pussy again.
your breath catches. for one stupid, weak second you almost give in. he feels so fucking good under you, and…
“just a little more. feels too good to stop now.” he mutters into your neck. it tickles. it’s hot. it’s inviting.
fuck. he’s so convincing.
no.
you’re gonna be professional(bit late for that innit) even if he’s not.
you sit up straighter, hands still on his chest, and shake your head even though your body is screaming at you to keep going.
chan freezes under you. his hands stay on your ass for a second longer before they finally slide away, and he lets you go.
he’s panting under you, chest heaving, sweat glistening on his abs, cock still rock hard and ready to go against his stomach.
for a moment he just stares at you, fighting the ugre to grab you and pull you back down. then reality seems to hit him. his mucsles relax a little. he runs a hand over his face, exhaling through his nose.
“yeah.” he mutters. “you’re right. fuck.”
he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, and closes his eyes. trying to pull himself the fuck together. when he opens them again there’s a mix of frustration and something like respect, maybe even a little shame.
“i’m sorry.” he says quietly, still panting. “i got carried away. you’re… you’re much smarter than me right now.”
the tension is unfinished, but maybe it’s meant to be. (it’s not. you two are MEANT to fuck, you two basically have been created for each other, just sadly, both of you value your careers)
“thank you.” he says quietly. “for stopping me. and… for everything else tonight. i mean it.”
you look beautiful, to him. straddling him, panting, neck covered in his marks. he wants you.
“it’s okay, chan. we’re good.”
you take a breath. okay. you climb off him carefully, legs not stable at all, and sit down on the edge of the bed next to him. he sits up, reaches over and grabs the blanket from the foot of the bed, throwing it over his lap to cover his still hard cock and those smooth thighs. the fabric tents obviously, but at least it’s something.
for a long moment, neither of you says anything.
then you look at each other.
then you smile.
then you laugh.
not on purpose. really do laugh, you couldn’t stop it even if you tried to.
you can both feel it, this human understanding in the air between you two. this is so going to happen again. not tonight, but soon. the tension isn’t gone. it’s just paused. not even paused, just resisted, for fuck’s sake. both of you get this.
you clear your throat, trying to sound normal. “uh… do we have anything else to work on? the schedule tomorrow or—”
“no. go home, y/n. you need to rest.” he pauses, then adds with a small smile “i’ll tell management to give you the day off tomorrow if you want it. you’ve earned it. more than earned it.”
“i won’t take it. you know i won’t.”
“yeah. i know.” he reaches over and gives your knee a gentle squeeze, but soon pulls his hand back. he wanted to keep it there longer. “but seriously. go sleep. i’ll see you in the morning.”
you stand up slowly, legs still shaky, and fix your clothes. your neck tickles where he sucked those pretty marks, your panties are soaked, and your lips feel puffy.
chan watches you the whole time, blanket still over his lap, eyes… fucking shining.
“goodnight, chan.”
“goodnight, y/n.”
you nod, pack your bag in like three fucking moves, and slip out of the room as quietly as you can.
jeongin’s door is still closed. good.
your neck is going to be a nightmare to cover tomorrow. your pussy is still throbbing. and you can still feel this thing between the two of you. it’s so… raw.
inevitable, really.
so it’s only natural that the next day’s gonna be torture too.
okay, it’s not torture anymore. when you freshly started working for them, it really was, but now even though you do have the perfect reasons to call it torture, really, you like it. you like the push and pull. cat and mouse game that you can feel, you just don’t know if they know you feel.
you walk into the building in the morning with a high neck shirt and enough concealer to paint a house. chan did a great work on your neck. purple and red marks all over the side of your throat where he sucked.
hot.
every time you swallow it still hurts from how deep he fucked your face last night.
you’re exhausted, horny, and professional as always.
now though, the guys don’t know about last night. hyunjin thinks he’s the latest conquest. chan is keeping his mouth shut for once.
so the energy is… weird.
and they’re too busy to notice you’re marked.
“morning, y/n.” that’s hyunjin. not suspecting a single thing, which is good for his ego, actually.
you nod and keep moving.
chan’s trying so hard to act normal it’s almost funny. when you hand him his drink he takes it with a quiet “thanks” (remember that at the very start of this he wouldn’t even look at you, not alone grunt a thanks out?) and his eyes flick to your high collar, then away.
you can see the guilt(not about what he did to your neck, about what he did to his career) and the horniness mixing in his expression.
the memory of his mouth on your neck, his hands spreading your ass, his cock leaking against your clothed pussy.
he clears his throat and goes back to his laptop, but his eyes are obviously kept there with force. you just noticed how cute his mouth is.
minho? acts the same as usual. he’s so professional that you couldn’t even tell he wants his cute little assistant to suck him the fuck off.
changbin finds you on the hallway again. babe, go back to work. “you look a little tired today.” he says. “did you sleep okay?” boi just say you want to hit.
he has no idea you spent half the night with chan’s tongue in your mouth and his finger teasing your asshole and it’s an amazing feeling. you just smile and say you’re fine.
han is also normal. why wouldn’t he be, he doesn’t know of the nasty shit you do.
felix comes at you with the “you smell nice today. new perfume?” no baby it’s your best friend’s body’s natural smell and cum that you’re kind of nasty for not washing off but we’re not shaming anyone here. anyways, you shake your head. he smiles, his prettiest on purpose, convinced he’s gonna tap that one day.
seungmin, not much to say either. looks up at you only when you talk to him first. acting aaaaall nonchalant, we know you want some, minnie.
jeongin manages to talk to you with proper sentences this time!! “you okay? you look like you got attacked by a vacuum or something. long night?”
your heart jumps, does he know?, but he’s just teasing. he has no idea how right he is. how on point he was with the vacuum, while really he just meant your hair being a little messy, not the actual suction your neck endured.
during afternoon practice chan pulls you aside for two seconds in the hallway when no one’s looking.
“you okay?” he asks, eyes flicking to your covered neck. “i didn’t… go too far last night?”
you shake your head, smiling(your pussy clenches at the memory of his thumbs spreading your ass). “i’m fine. really.”
he nods, looks away, looks back, then reaches up and gently adjusts your collar.
the tension is insane.
he wants to kiss you again. you can see it in his eyes. he wants to drag you into the nearest room and finish what you started.
but he doesn’t. he just drops his hand and steps back.
“good. go rest when you can.” he says. then he walks back, holding the door open for you.
your panties have been uncomfortable all day from how wet you stayed thinking about his hands.
the sexual tension with him is unbearable now. every day, every time you’re alone for even thirty seconds it wakes up again. the restraint is killing him, and it’s… well, it’s not killing you.
just again, you’re here for work. you have no reason in the world to worry.
he was going to text you hundreds of times. how he couldn’t stop thinking about how you felt on top of him, dumb, vulnerable shit like this, but he stopped himself. unprofessional.
hyunjin is a close second, and he’s getting impatient.
he wants his second round so badly it’s fucking funny. hilarious. you’re slapping your thigh bending over laughing the second you get home.
he starts finding excuses to be alone with you, asking you to help with this, help with that, saying “you owe me another visit sometime” it all tells you he’s dying for it. he wants to feel your throat again.
the fact that you’re keeping him at arm’s length is only making him want it more.
they’re just boys. that’s the thing.
biologically they’re built like fucking animals once their dicks get hard. testosterone floods the system, logical thinking takes a backseat, dopamine and vasopressin are flooding their dumb little brains.
suddenly the logical, professional brain that knows you’re staff and this is dangerous to their lives gets completely overridden by the part that just wants to fuck and claim and cum. it’s not even their fault, millions of years of evolution made sure that this happens.
that’s why they’re moving, circling like this. why chan can’t stop touching you when no one’s looking. why hyunjin gets pissy and horny every time you stop looking at him. why the rest of them keep finding excuses to be near you, eyes lingering on your mouth, your neck, your ass.
now that we’re at asses, fun fact, the reason why we’re so attracted to them is brutally biological. same with breasts. big tits? signals good milk production for babies. fat ass? means wide hips for carrying and birthing. smooth skin, soft curves, the way you smell when you’re turned on, their brains see it and their bodies don’t care that you’re their assistant. they just want. they want to touch, to taste, to fuck, to claim.
that’s why they all go stupid the second they get a taste. one blowjob and suddenly they’re obsessed, wanting, touching more, eyes lingering on your body, thinking about how fast they can get you naked, how would your tits look bouncing.
it’s not even their fault. it’s just biology.
they’re all just boys at the end of the day.
twenty something guys with insane schedules, zero real privacy, and dicks that don’t understand the concept of boundaries. once they know you’re the kind of girl who gets on her knees and swallows without making it weird, their brains go crazy.
plus let’s count it in that these boys are not the smartest. to be pretty fucking real.
but anyways, these are idols. professionals. but strip away the image and they’re just horny animals who saw one of their own get his dick sucked and now their monkey brains are screaming me next me next.
attraction isn’t logical. it’s tits and ass and the way your lips look when they’re swollen from sucking cock. it’s the smell of a turned on woman and the memory of a warm throat.
so, point is, that’s why they’re acting like this. evolution doesn’t care about contracts or image. it just wants them to fuck.
so. you keep rushing when they call your name, fixing slash holding things, handing out this and that, remembering.
but underneath it all you’re a walking mess.
men affect you hard. especially when they’re his attractive.
your neck is still marked up, your pussy stays in a permanent state of dear god i need them but i’ll let them chase, and every single time one of them looks at you for too long your brain helpfully replays the feeling of chan’s thick cock grinding against you while his finger spread your ass open.
he’s the worst. (for now)
the sexual tension with him is unbearable now. every interaction feels like foreplay that never quite tips over.
nobody has ever got him feeling like this before. it’s crazy for him too, trust.
every time your eyes meet across the room there’s this acknowledgment.
we almost fucked. we’re going to fuck. it’s only a matter of when.
the tension is so bad that during one long break he actually had to excuse himself to the bathroom for five minutes because he couldn’t stop staring at you.
the others are still manageable. sure, you’ll deal with it, you’re below them anyways. plus they’re cute. you don’t really mind the attention.
especially the amount you’ve been getting from jeongin.
you’ve started feeling his eyes on you more than anyone else’s.
he watches you when you’re not looking, when you’re bent over getting something from somewhere, when you’re handing someone water, when you’re laughing at something minho said. he’s more intense.
practices are hell. to you. sweat, movement, bodies everywhere. every time someone peels off a shirt you have to look away. you’re not unaffected.
plus sometimes you can’t help but think of chan shirtless under you.
hyunjin catches you looking once and smiles with an eyebrow raise. bitch keep it in your pants.
you keep doing your job. barely.
it’s hard.
just as hard as it’s for jeongin to man himself up and try to talk to you. to shoot his shot, not just business talk.
only if you knew he heard the whole face fucking chan performed on you.
part two is here!
author’s note: holy shit what a basic trope. (saying this but i don’t recall seeing one fic w it. i just know, i can tell. tf. wait no there was a smau i think. i don’t read since i started writing so pleaseeeeee don’t take this as me copying anyone, i purely used this scenario to go to sleep these days(wrote this as i’m at the start of the fic, and writing now, it’s not the one i use anymore) and wanted to put it down somewhere. or i mean shii tell me if someone copyrighted it but i didn’t take the idea from anyone. just wanted to make sure y’all know this!!) this is not an accusation of how the boys act in real life!! purely a fictional characterization to my liking and the people’s who enjoy it. also this is not a high effort fic so shame on me for not making research on what an assistant would do, i’m just here for the dick.
pairing: ot8!skz, bf!skz x fem!reader
tags: use of pet names, swearing, midnight shenanigans, established relationships, seungmin threatens reader jokingly (mostly)...
Context: Your boyfriend gave you his card to use but you didn’t use it so he trying to figure out why.
Hyung Line Maknae Line
Chan ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟
Lee Know᭝ ᨳଓ ՟
Changbin ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟
Hyunjinn ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟
Writers corner ݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆
· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·
Hey friends how y’all doing I hope you enjoy this and yall my birthday is literally next week and maintenance starts on Monday I can’t wait I been looking like bum now it’s time to glam up and idk if I said this but I’m gonna post a fic on my birthday and take a break the next day so I will be back on Friday yeah so tell how you like this ok baiii💋
Warnings: Just ridiculous crack and my awful sense of humor.
Screenshot Count: 10.
Author’s Note: A repost from like two years ago. I found this and was like holy shit lol. Yes I know there are mistakes but I don’t feel like rewriting this from scratch so please ignore them🙏🏽.
Context: Your boyfriend gave you his card to use but you didn't use it so he trying to figure out why.
Hyung Line Maknae Line
Han ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟
Felix ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟
Seungmin᭝ ᨳଓ ՟
I.N᭝ ᨳଓ ՟
Writers corner ݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆
· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·
Hey friends how y’all doing I hope you are doing well like I’m not going to stop complaining about this heat today was so hot I was sweating bad omg but it’s ok life still goes on and yeah tell how you like this and if you see any mistakes look the other way ok baiii💋
