INWILL BE ADDING U TO MY LIST PF BEST TAGALOG FIC WRITER TO SVER EXIST . OMG ILY SM
── can i just say that this is such a big compliment holy shit :’) di ko alam if namali lang ng inbox or para sakin talaga pero dahil diyan, more tagalog fics pa para sayo <33
You finally believe the saying that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" because for you, Soonyoung, and Jihoon, no distance, no time, will destroy your friendship. Don't worry, a year and a half is not that long.
౨ৎ PAIRING: non-idol hoshi and woozi x non-idol reader
౨ৎ GENRE: fluff and angst if you squint.
౨ৎ TAGS: established friendship, brother/sister kind of relationship, sfw, long-time friends, platonic relationship, alternate universe, and cursing.
౨ৎ LANGUAGE: english
౨ৎ NOTES: comments, kudos, & reblogs are appreciated! wrote this when hoshi posted that video of hao shaving his head and i sobbed lol. very short since this is just a brain fart.
౨ৎ HYPERLINKS: pinned post, ko-fi, and seventeen’s master-list.
౨ৎ WORDCOUNT: 1.05K words.
It bothers you how calm and relaxed your friends were. One was sitting by the kitchen, flipping pancakes for God knows how long, and the other one was by the windowsill, tinkering with his iPad. “Am I the only one who’s fucking stressed?” you groaned as you could feel the pulsating headache worsen. The day you had finally dreaded came. In a few hours, your best friends, Jihoon and Soonyoung, will be seven hours away from you, for a year and a half—if they get off their asses and start packing their stuff. “You haven’t even shaved your heads!”
“Jesus, Y/N,” Jihoon laughed as he stacked the pancakes neatly. “We still have two hours until we hit the road.”
“Yeah, calm down, mom,” Soonyoung butted in, which earned a slap from you.
You took a breath. You sat down on the couch, clean white shirts and underwear scattered across the room as you helped them pack. “God, you two are the most inconsiderate humans I have ever met,” you scoffed. “I had plans today, you know that, right? I was supposed to meet a colleague for lunch, but no, I chose to help you clean and pack, but look!” you yelled, standing up as you snatched your bag from the floor. Both Jihoon and Soonyoung looked at you, eyes full of guilt. “Everything’s a mess, and the two of you don’t care! I just wanted to spend the last fucking day with my best friends, but I’m playing mother to two idiots!”
“Y/N,” Soonyoung whispered.
“Nope, no!” you laughed. “I’m waiting in the car; you two do this,” you breathed.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Your hands tightly squeezed the steering wheel, your finger incessantly tapping the faux leather skin of it. You stood your ground and have been waiting for an hour and a half in your car. Were your words too harsh? Maybe. But you needed not tocry. Because if you hadn’t yelled, you were probably going to be a sobbing mess as you sent off your best friends.
The elevator doors to the car park suddenly opened. It was Soonyoung and Jihoon, their bags in their back, yet their heads were still full of hair. “Y/N,” Soonyoung pouted, trying to win you, but you weren’t going to budge so easily.
“Bags in the trunk,” you mumbled, voice so low Jihoon didn’t even hear you. The two entered your car quietly. Soonyoung at the front, Jihoon at the back. You immediately turned on the radio to tune out everything. You noticed Soonyoung biting his fingernails, something he does whenever he’s guilty of something. “I’ll drive the first three hours,” you muttered, knuckles turning white as you try to fight off the tears.
The first three hours of your road trip were a blur. Jihoon tried his best to stay awake to keep you company. But Soonyoung dozed off the second you got on the freeway. “Are you hungry?” Jihoon asked, his voice groggy. “We should stop over at the next gas station.”
“Mhm.”
“Did someone say Hodu-gwaja?” Soonyoung woke up from his deep slumber, eyes still heavy from sleeping all throughout the first few hours.
You slightly chuckled at your friend. You couldn’t even stay mad for long. One little thing, and your anger had washed away. You had finally reached the empty gas station. A few drivers were scattered, other than the three of you. “I’ll just get some coffee,” you sighed.
“We fucked up,” Jihoon whispered, watching you walk away. “Let’s go to the restroom.”
“Huh?” Soonyoung looked at Jihoon. He saw the hair shaver in his hand with a wide grin plastered on his face. “Really, here?”
“Yeah,” he laughed, pulling Soonyoung towards the restroom. “It’ll be funny and it’ll make her laugh.”
As you finished buying some snacks for the road, you noticed your friends standing in front of your car, the middle part of their hair shaved. You couldn’t help but hysterically laugh at the sight. “I think you missed a whole lot of hair.”
“It’s for you to shave,” Jihoon smiled, handing you the shaver. “We’re sorry,” he mumbled. “We just wanted to spend the whole morning with you.”
You rolled your eyes and immediately shaved Jihoon’s hair without telling him, earning a laugh from Soonyoung. “What are you laughing at?” you smirked. “You’re next, Kwon.”
The mood drastically changed as you all got back on the road. You sang, you ate chips, you talked, and you played “I spy” for the remainder of the drive. You snapped back to reality as you saw cars piled up in the parking lot.
Parents sending their sons filled the whole facility, your stomach churning as the thought of Jihoon and Soonyoung leaving clouded your mind. “I guess we’re here,” you said, opening the car door. One minute, the three of you were laughing; the next, not even a single word was omitted. “So, this is it,” you whispered as Jihoon and Soonyoung took their bags from the trunk.
“It’s not like we’re leaving for good,” Jihoon said, trying to lighten up the mood.
Soonyoung hugged you tightly, not showing his tear-filled face. “Seven hours is nothing,” he sobbed. “After our training, we’ll try to secure a spot near Seoul.”
“It’s fine,” you cried, failing at your plan to contain yourself. “A year and a half is not that long,” you smiled as you got out of Soonyoung’s arms to hug Jihoon, who was now sobbing. “I’ll visit at any chance I can.”
“Really?” Jihoon asked, caressing your hair softly.
“Of course,” you laughed.
The sound of horns interrupted your moment, making the three of you laugh. “Please don’t forget to eat and go out and enjoy the sun,” Soonyoung hurriedly said. “When we see you next time, you'd better have your hair colored, just like you wanted,” he said, remembering your wish.
“And, don’t go out late at night when you drink, mmkay?” Jihoon appealed.
“Yes and yes,” you laughed. “I’ll miss you both so much.”
“Don’t worry!” Soonyoung yelled as he and Jihoon walked away from you. “Jihoon left you some pancakes in the fridge because he knows you won’t eat today, and I left my iPad for you to use! I was setting it up for you earlier, and I have Shrek 1, 2, and 3 downloaded!”
All you wanted was a life of peace and innocence. But because of a past you had tried to forget, you are now sucked into an eternity of killing people who wronged you. You swore that every single human is an enemy, yet a man named Hong Jisoo might change that.
THIS WORK IS NOT SAFE FOR WORK AND CONTAINS THEMES NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
౨ৎ PAIRING: lawyer!joshua x killer/criminal!reader (afab)
౨ৎ NOTES: all italicized sentences without quotation marks are the reader's own thoughts.
౨ৎ HYPERLINKS: pinned post, ko-fi, seventeen’s master-list, joshua’s master-list, kill him, killer chapter list, and chapter 1.
౨ৎ WORDCOUNT: 2.7k words for chapter 2.
The knife was dull. It couldn’t even cut a fruit. You sharpened, and sharpened until you saw the knife shavings hit the granite countertop. “You’re going to talk,” you sang as you slowly walked up to a bloody, sweat-drenched Hyosung—your twentieth soon-to-be victim—but hey, who’s counting? “If you don’t talk, I will slowly pierce this knife into your neck,” you whispered, grazing the knife on his blood-soaked shirt. “So slow, you’ll feel everything.”
“I don’t know anything, I swear!” he pleaded, well, he tried to. You knew he was lying. He has to be. No one in their right mind would kill someone and not know where they buried them.
You laughed maniacally. “You’re sure?” the knife resting on your temple.
“Yes, yes!” he yelled.
“Okay,” you sighed. “What would your last words be?” you taunted Hyosung as you opened the laptop in front of him, showing him his wife and kids eating dinner in real time. “I’m pretty sure your wife would be bummed out if she found out that your rotting body would show up magically in your front yard, right?” you chuckled. “Or, how’s your youngest kid doing in pre-school? Made any friends yet? Oh, yeah, Jihyo, I think that’s the name of your kid’s friend.”
“You’re a fucking psycho, Y/N,” he cried. “Okay, okay, Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Tell me everything, or I swear to God, I will throw your body on your own lawn for your wife and children to see.”
Hyosung mentally cursed himself. He was dead either way, and he knew that even if you spared his life, someone who’s much more evil would kill him. “Lee Jaeyoung.”
“The businessman?” you raised your eyebrow as you heard the name. Jaeyoung was an asshole chaebol who had the world at his fingertips. He owns half of South Korea, and politicians like to kiss his ass for protection.
“Yeah,” Hyosung breathed. “EXT Corporation, you know that? The ones who make military-grade weapons?”
You nodded slowly. You sat back and listened. “Something sick is going on there, Y/N,” Hyosung said, his voice low, almost scared. “Like, next level fucked up shit. Killing-everyone who-wrongs-them type of fucked up. They test their weapons on real people.”
“And what does Lee Jaeyoung have to do with my sister’s death?” you asked. “Assuming you’re being honest.”
“Your sister got a loan from EXT Lending, right?” Hyosung said. “She never paid it; she was always saying these ridiculous excuses. So, Jaeyoung got his men to kill her, like everyone else who had a loan and did not pay.”
Autumn leaves have started to fall from their home as the first half of the year came to an end. You loved autumn. You loved how every tree changes its color from green to burnt orange. You and your sister would always go to the park and lie under an old oak tree, hitting a pause on life, your messy, yet simple life.
“You’re going to college,” your sister whispered as she braided your hair. “Choose Seoul National University. Mom and Dad went there. It’s a great school. Lots of good people as well.”
“How?” you asked, your fingers busy with knitting a sweater for winter. “You literally have three jobs,” you whispered. “I’ll just quit high school.”
“No, you won’t quit school. You don’t need to ask,” she smiled, her voice low, as if she was scared of something. “Just promise me one thing, you’ll be one of the good ones, okay?”
You placed the unfinished sweater on your lap and faced your sister, tears slowly streaming down her cheeks. “I promise,” you said, tightly hugging her. “I’ll be good.”
Everything was now clear for you. All of the missed calls, mysterious men knocking at your old apartment, people following your sister wherever she went—everything made sense. “Do you know where her body is?” you whispered as you pointed the knife at Hyosung.
“All I know is that they dump all bodies on a farm in Jeju. Unmarked, no graves, no nothing. I don’t know if they still do it, though.” Hyosung sighed, trying to accept his fate as you slammed the laptop shut, tossing it across the room. “Look, that’s all I know. I haven’t worked for them in years.”
“That’s not enough to save your fucking life, Hyosung!” you screamed out of frustration. Day by day, the chance of you recovering your sister’s lifeless body was getting slimmer. “Exact address, or you lose all of your fucking fingers!”
“Udo-myeon, Jeju-si!” he screamed, his eyes closed shut, heart beating so loud you could hear every pump it made.
Without a word, you removed all of the rope from his arms and feet. He slowly opened his eyes, revealing an image he never knew he would see—a crying, cold-blooded killer. “Leave, you’re fucking lucky,” you whispered, eyes blurry from the tears. “I know where you live. Hyosung. I know everything. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
Hyosung nodded and ran as fast as he could. You slumped back into your seat, breathless as you sobbed. Maybe there was hope. Maybe after all of this, you could bury her body in a marked grave, under an oak tree, with autumn leaves calling it home.
It was as if nothing had happened. You cleaned your house, scrubbed all the bloody knives, and threw out all the used, bloody rope on your fireplace. After Hyosung left, you quickly booked a ticket to Jeju. So, here you were, sitting next to an old lady, an hour away from your destination. “What will a beautiful woman like you do in Jeju?” the lady laughed as she offered some cookies.
“I have family,” you smiled, taking a small cookie. “I haven’t seen my sister in six years.”
“Oh, really?” the lady asked. “Can I ask why?”
“I got busy with work,” you sighed, looking at the window, trying not to shed a tear.
The old lady could sense your real emotions. She handed you a handkerchief with autumn leaves knitted on it—as if your sister had sent her to console you. “That’s what Seoul does, honey,” she smiled. “This is my first time back home in forty years.”
“Wow.”
“I know,” she chuckled. “Don’t worry, honey. When you see your sister, it’ll feel like you just saw her yesterday.”
Jeju was awfully cold, and you loathed it. You only brought a few shirts and pants, thinking that this trip would only last a few days. But as luck would have it, because of the icy roads due to the snow, you have been stuck in your hotel room with nothing to do.
Fucking hell, you thought. Your eyes never left the crowds of students walking in front of you as you tried to buy some food at a local store. Too giddy, too happy. “Just this,” you said, tossing the already half-eaten gimbap at the store clerk.
“I haven’t seen you here before, sexy,” he said, obviously trying to flirt his way to get your number. “Tourist?”
You couldn’t even stand the god-awful smile he was giving you. As he placed the gimbap in the plastic bag, you quickly snatched it from his hand, giving him the finger as you walked. “Hey, bitch, I was just being nice!” he snickered, halting you from walking.
“What did you just call me?”
“Oh, that you heard?” he laughed.
You tried to stop, you really did. As you saw that it was just the two of you at the store, you slowly went and yanked out all of the CCTVs that could see your face, making him tremble in fear. “Repeat it,” you chuckled, taking your gun from your jacket and pointing it at his cock. “I can shoot your tiny dick and get away with it.”
“Look, lady,” he gulped, getting paler by the second as you waved your gun. “I don’t want any harm. I’m sorry!”
But something in you clicked. As if a turn-off switch had been installed in your brain. “You never saw me,” you threatened, grabbing the gimbap and walking away—leaving a pee-soaked man scared for his life.
A few-day stay had turned into a week. As the icy roads returned to their normal state, you quickly packed your bags and checked out of the hotel. Not knowing where to start, you hailed a taxi and told him the address that Hyosung had told you.
I swear, if he fucking lied, I’ll chop him up into pieces.
“Thank you,” you smiled politely as you got out of the taxi. Adjusting yourself to the cold, crisp air, you marvelled at the Orange farm in front of you. It was lush and beautiful—nothing like Hyosung described. “Excuse me!” you shouted as a man—probably a farmer— walked in front of you, sacks of Oranges in his back. “Is there a cemetery near here?”
“Huh?” he said, a puzzled look plastered on his face. “No cemetery here, just farms.”
“Oh, okay,” you sighed.
“Look, you’re probably not from here, and you look like you’ve travelled far,” he stated. “EXT Corp. bought every land here a few years ago. Changed every vacant lot and building into farms. This one as well. They probably removed all cemeteries for all I know.”
Jackpot.
“Do you know if they have an office here?” you asked, taking out your phone.
“Satellite office, yeah,” he murmured. “It’s beside the town hall, you’ll see it.”
You bowed and thanked the man for his help. You didn’t waste any time walking since it was just a five-minute walk. As you admired the Orange trees you passed by, your phone suddenly rang.
You mentally cursed as you saw the big, bold name plastered on your screen. You didn’t have any time to chit-chat, but for the sake of your freedom, you forcefully pressed the green button. “Atty. Hong, can I help you?”
“Miss Y/LN!” he chuckled. “I was wondering if we could set up a meeting this week?”
“I can’t,” you rolled your eyes as you kicked a few pebbles. “I’m not in the city right now.”
“Oh,” he replied.
God, why is he being like this?
“I’m sorry, Atty. Hong,” you lied. You wanted to be cautious—just in case he found out about your past. “I’ll make it up to you,”
“It’s alright, Miss Y/LN.”
Frustrated and annoyed, you bit your bottom lip, tasting the blood immediately as your teeth sank into it. “Don’t worry, Atty. Hong,” you said, trying to butter him up. “Next week, on Tuesday, let’s have a meeting. Is that alright?”
On the other line, you could hear Jisoo sighing in relief. “That’s good,” he said. “See you next week, then.”
“Yeah, see you next week.”
The call ended abruptly. Who knows, maybe Jisoo sensed that you were in a hurry. After a five-minute walk, a black, mid-rise building stood out in front of you. Guards stood at the entrance as people who wore suits entered the building—not really a look you would see in a rural area. “Excuse me, is this EXT’s satellite office?” you asked the stoic man, his eyes looking at you from head to toe.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “If you don’t have any business here, I suggest you leave.”
“Easy there,” you chuckled as your eyes lingered around your surroundings. “I’m here for a job interview.”
“Oh, you’re that girl from Busan?” he asked, taking out his clipboard. “Lee Narae?”
What an awful name.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
The guard laughed, getting fooled by your lies. Don’t they screen their fucking guards? He handed you a temporary ID, motioning you to go inside. Idiots. It was like death inside, to say the least. No color whatsoever lived in the four corners of this building. Everyone was quiet, only speaking in a hushed voice.
“Hello, I’m a journalist from Seoul,” you lied, changing your identity in a snap. “I’m here to interview Jeon Seonhyung? Your manager?”
The receptionist looked up, the bags under her eyes prominent, as if she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep. “Interview?” she asked, her voice low.
“Yeah, it’s about the rise of EXT in Jeju.”
For about a second, the receptionist thought you were lying. You were, but who are you kidding? They looked like their souls were taken from them the minute they worked at EXT. “Okay, just sign here and go to that hallway. His office is at the end.”
That easy?
The only thing you could do was nod. Everything was too odd for your liking, too easy. You slowly walked through the never-ending hallway. Outside, the building seemed small, but you were wrong. As you reached the steel doors to the office of the manager, you calmly opened the door. You were met with a middle-aged man, who was wearing a polo shirt and a loose necktie—not very managerial in your opinion. “Can I help you?”
“Good Morning, Mr. Jeon,” you smiled, “I’m Raon, a journalist from Seoul,” you lied through your teeth.
“Journalist?” he furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t have anything scheduled with a journalist today?”
“Oh, did you forget?” you laughed, trying to fool the idiot in front of you. “It’s about the vacant lot turned farms here in Udo-myeon.”
He sat up straight, like he heard something suspicious in what you said. “You have to go,” he commanded, reaching for his walkie-talkie from the table, which you quickly took.
“You’ll answer my questions and I’ll be out of your hair, deal?”
He sighed, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead. Honestly, you were risking it all. All you had was a Glock and a knife—not enough to kill everyone outside—yet here you were, bravely taunting this idiot. “Fine.”
You nodded. “Someone told me that those Orange farms are really dumping sites for bodies,” you showed him a picture of your sister, blotches of dried blood scattered on it. “She’s one of them.”
“Not those kinds of farms,” he whispered, eyes focused on the picture in your hand. “That’s just a rumor,” he said, standing up, closing the blinds. “Too many eyes,” he said, sitting back down, jotting something down on a notepad. “Sunrise peak in Seongsan-ri. We dump bodies in the sea.”
“What?” you gasped. “Are you sure?”
“I oversee the process,” he whispered, handing you the address. “I make sure all of the bodies are dumped.”
You were dumbfounded. Just as you thought that you could finally retrieve the body of your sister, your mission took a 360-degree turn. How in the hell could you take a body in the sea? “Why are you telling me all of this? I thought you would just call in your guards to get me.”
“They’re just gonna kill me, anyway,” he blurted. “I took a wad of cash from the bank. I’m just waiting for someone to pull the trigger.”
“Good God,” you said, standing up and taking your bag, preparing to leave the scared man.
Your trip to Udo-myeon was somewhat fruitful. Even though it got harder, at least you knew the real location where they dumped your sister’s body. Staying at a nearby motel, you quickly booked a ferry ticket to Seongsan-ri for tomorrow, not wasting any time.
To fill in the void, you opened your laptop, opening the surveillance system you placed on your lawyer’s office, your favorite pastime.
[LOCATION] YEOUIDO, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA
[ADDRESS] HJS LAW FIRM, BUILDING 1230, YEOUIDO, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA
[COORDINATES] 37°31′26″N 126°55′36″E
[CAMERA] SOUTHSIDE MAIN ROOM — JISOO’S OFFICE
…FINDING LOCATION…
…STARTING LIVE FEED…
…TURNING ON AUDIO…
As the live feed showed a working Jisoo, you lay back, munched on your sandwich, and watched as he typed away on his computer. “Atty. Jisoo, you have a call from someone named Lee Jaeyoung on line 5.”
Hearing his name piqued your interest. You quickly put on the headphones to hear everything clearly. “Hello?” Jisoo spoke, pressing the telephone to speaker mode.
“Atty. Hong! You probably don’t know me, but I know you,” Jaeyoung snickered, arrogance dripping from his voice. “If I were you, I would screen all of your clients. You never know who’s bad or good.” Before Jisoo could even reply, he quickly ended the call, leaving Jisoo in a state of confusion.
“Bora! Can you ask our IT guy to trace my recent call in line 5?” he yelled. “And search for someone named Lee Jaeyoung!”
I saw that ur requests are open can i ask fr svt members reaction when s/o gets extra long pointy nails, the type that makes the smallest task hard asf
I SWEAR, I CAN DO IT! (SVT)
You have always been an independent person. You never relied on others, until you met your partner. He knew you never wanted help so, he just lets you do whatever—as long as you knew that he will be always there to catch you.
౨ৎ PAIRING: non!idolseventeen x afab!reader
౨ৎ GENRE: romance & comedy
౨ৎ TAGS: sickeningly cute fluff, reader has extra long nails, suggestive themes, established adult relationship, cursing, and blood.
౨ৎ LANGUAGE: english.
౨ৎ NOTES: how do y’all like this ??? requests r open !! just head on my chat/submission box <3
౨ৎ HYPERLINKS: pinned post, ko-fi, seventeen’s master-list, and ot13 master-list.
CHOI SEUNGCHEOL:
You mentally cursed yourself as another penny fell from your fingers. Ever since your friend introduced you to making your own long, acrylic nails, it has become your favorite pastime during your free days. However, Seungcheol saw how you struggled. You couldn’t type, you couldn’t eat, and you couldn’t scratch your eyes without hurting yourself. “Baby, do you want my help?” Seungcheol asked as he saw you squatting on the floor, the penny slipping from your fingers.
“No need!” you yelled confidently. After five grueling minutes of not breathing, you finally picked up the penny and placed it on the table. “See, I can do it.”
“Your nails are beautiful, baby,” Seungcheol laughed. You sighed and looked at him with an annoyed expression.
You walked towards him and crossed your arms. “Just say it,” you grumbled. “My nails are too long and I should cut them.”
“If you like the nails, it’s fine,” Seungcheol said as he pulled you onto his lap. “I can pick all the pennies off the floor.”
YOON JEONGHAN:
“I can help you, you know,” Jeonghan said in a sing-song tone as you forced yourself to chop the vegetables needed for tonight’s dinner. You just had your nails done, and they were longer than your regular ones. You didn’t want to tell your nail artist that they were the wrong size, so you just paid for the nails and left. “You’re going to cut your fingers, Y/N.”
“No, I won’t,” you smiled through the obvious pain you were feeling. One small slip and your fingers were gone. Jeonghan, who was stirring the soup beside you, was secretly glancing at what you were doing—afraid that you were going to hurt yourself. As you slowly cut the carrots, your hand slipped, causing you to cut your pointer finger. “Son of a bitch!”
Jeonghan quickly turned off the stove and took a bunch of paper towels. He then pressed it to your wound to stop the bleeding. “Are you okay?” he asked, worry washing over him.
“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m sorry, I’ll just cut my nails.”
“No, don’t cut them,” Jeonghan laughed as he rinsed your wound with clean water. “They’re pretty. Just ask for help, I’m always here.”
HONG JISOO:
The nails were excessive, too excessive. Your best friends talked you into getting longer nails at the salon. Since you felt like trying new things, you gave in and got an upgrade. “Do you like them?” you asked Jisoo as you sat on his lap, peppering him with kisses.
“They’re pretty, babe.” Jisoo chuckled as you removed his shirt. But because of your long nails, you accidentally scratched his back.
“Ow,” Jisoo whispered.
“Oh, babe, I’m sorry,” you said. “I shouldn’t have gotten them.”
Jisoo looked at you with pure adoration. He caressed your face and kissed you softly, melting you on the spot. “I like the long nails, Y/N,” he laughed. “It suits you.”
WEN JUNHUI:
You muttered under your breath as you carefully glued the rhinestones back on your nail. “Stupid rhinestones.” You have been dabbling with nail art, and Junhui has been so supportive of it. He bought you all the materials you needed, and he even built you a desk in his office for you to practice on.
“You good?” Junhui asked as he placed a cup of coffee on your desk. “Wow, those are really long.”
“You like it?” you looked at him, sighing as the rhinestones weren’t sticking properly.
‘Yeah, I think we should test it out later,” Junhui laughed as he took a chair and sat next to you. “But first, let me help you glue on the rhinestones.”
KWON SOONYOUNG:
“Those are something else,” Soonyoung said, bewildered at your extra-long nails. You had time after work, and you decided to stop by your nail artist to surprise Soonyoung. His birthday was coming up, so you decided to get a tiger-themed design, first and last, by the way.
“You like it?” you asked, hoping for a nod or even a smile, yet Soonyoung surprised you. He tightly hugged you, sobbing as he caressed your head. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting that reaction.”
“You never liked any of my tiger-themed stuff, but you did this for my birthday?” he cried as he took snapshots of your nails. “Best birthday present ever!”
God, your boyfriend was too easy to please. Your real birthday present was a new iPad, but it seems that your nails would’ve sufficed. “Babe, that’s not your present, silly.”
“I’m good, I don’t need anything else.”
JEON WONWOO:
You have been gone all day running errands around the city. Your boss listed some things for you to work on, and you swear, twenty-four hours is not enough. So, when you finally ticked off the last errand you had to do, you now had the chance to use the coupon your boyfriend gave you for a spa day.
Oh, it was so amazing. You couldn’t feel your legs, your arms, and even your back—and the only one who could do that to you was Wonwoo. After your Swedish massage, the owner tried to upsell you a mani-pedi. Who were you to say no? You even got longer nails rather than your regular ones.
As you arrived home, you thought that you were coming home to a disaster since Wonwoo was decorating for the holidays. But instead, you were met with the smell of a Chocolate cake with Raspberry coulis filling—your favorite. “It’s not a disaster!” you yelled in happiness as Wonwoo appeared at the back of the couch, fixing the wiring.
“Of course, fewer problems for you,” Wonwoo smiled as he walked towards you. Instead of hugging you, your new nails caught his attention instead. “Those are really long,” he said as he touched them.
“Like it?”
“Love it,” Wonwoo smirked as he saw the design was inspired by his love for games. “Can you eat noodles with that?”
LEE JIHOON:
It was a boring Sunday afternoon at your apartment. Jihoon was at his desk, working on a few projects for his work, while you were sitting on the floor, tongue out as you buffed your nails. You have been trying new hobbies ever since you got pregnant. Baking? Done. Planting vegetables? Done. Now, your focus was trying nail art.
“You need help, babe?” Jihoon asked, his hands in his pockets as he sat beside you, probably taking a break from his mountain of work. “Woah, those are long,” he laughed, examining your nails.
“Yeah, I’m trying out some nail lengths before the baby comes,” you murmured, focusing solely on your nails. “Too long?” you said as you shifted your gaze to Jihoon.
“They’re fine, babe,” he said. “Could double as a backscratcher as well, right?”
LEE SEOKMIN:
You couldn’t sleep. You tossed, turned, and drank milk, yet nothing worked. Your boyfriend, Seokmin, tried massaging your back, but much to your surprise, it didn’t work, which usually worked, and then it would lead to something more.
So, you went outside and did something else—nail art. It was already three in the morning, but nothing could stop you. You turned on your favorite show, made iced coffee, and you even got more energized as you buffed your nails. “Babe, come back to bed,” Seokmin said as he approached you. He hugged you from the back and left kisses on your shoulder blades.
“Can’t, babe,” you huffed. “I need to finish what I started.”
“Wow, those are long,” Seokmin chuckled. “Is that okay? It won’t hurt your eyes?”
“It’s fine, babe,” you said as you gave his lips a peck. “Go back to sleep,” Seokmin nodded at what you said. But instead of your bed, he went ahead and slept on the sofa, giving you company even though he was fast asleep.
KIM MINGYU:
Unlike other boyfriends, Mingyu was the one who told you to do whatever you want with your nails. Simple, crazy, rhinestones, claws, whatever it was, Mingyu supported it. “Babe, don’t get mad,” you whispered as you hid your nails.
“What’s wrong?” Mingyu stood up from his seat and went towards you. “Are you hurt?”
“What? No, babe, I’m fine,” you whispered. “It’s my nails.”
Mingyu laughed as he cupped your face. “Why?”
You sighed and slowly revealed your extra-long nails. They were silver with gemstones since you were planning on going to the Beyoncè concert next Friday. “They’re too much, huh?”
“Never too much,” Mingyu said, giving you a loving kiss on your lips. “I like them longer, you know? When you tug at my—”
“Okay, let me wash up!” you laughed, changing the topic before it became sexual.
XU MINGHAO:
“Pink or yellow?” Minghao asked, his glasses at the tip of his nose as he carefully painted your nails. Your boyfriend was very artistic. So, when you told him that one of your students designed something for your nails, he went ahead and bought the necessary supplies for it.
“Butter yellow for the sun and pastel pink for the flowers,” you murmured as you wrote your syllabus for next week. “Isn’t it too long?”
“It’s okay, babe,” Minghao smiled as he mixed the nail polish on the palette, looking like Van Gogh each second he painted your nails. “Besides, I can help you with anything you need.”
“You can braid my hair for tomorrow?” you asked.
Minghao looked up and patted your head. “Anything for you.”
BOO SEUNGKWAN:
“God, Y/N, they’re pretty!” Seungkwan exclaimed as you flaunted your new nails in front of your boyfriend. As a surprise, you went to your nail artist and asked her for a nail design with oranges, Seungkwan’s favorite fruit. “It’s long, huh?”
“You don’t like the length?” you asked as you sat beside him, twirling his hair as he examined your other hand.
“No, no,” Seungkwan laughed. “I like it. It’s just—”
Seungkwan looked at you, and then at your nails. “Wouldn’t it hurt if—”
“Oh, Boo Seungkwan, I can do anything with these nails,” you laughed, making your boyfriend facepalm in embarrassment.
CHWE HANSOL:
When you were a child, you always bit your nails as a habit. So, when you got older, one of your favorite pastimes was doing nail art. Long, short, with gems—name it, you tried it. But ever since you started culinary school, it has been too hard balancing cutting produce with your long nails. “Are fucking kidding me?” you swear as the knife slips from your hand.
“You good?” Hansol asked, going towards you with a towel in his hand. “Did you cut yourself?”
“No, no. I’m good,” you sighed. “The knife slipped because I was trying not to cut my nails.”
Hansol looked at you with adoration. “Want my help?”
“Is it okay?” you asked, on the verge of crying, as this was your final project for culinary school. “I just need to cut these zucchinis, and I’m all done with prepping my ingredients.”
“I can cut them, babe, don’t worry.”
LEE CHAN:
“That’s wicked, baby,” Chan said, perplexed by your out-of-this-world nails. Since your nail artist was entering a competition, she asked if you were up to becoming her model for the competition, and of course, you said yes—who would turn down free nails?
“They’re awesome, right?” you nodded as you flaunted your nails. “I want you to know I can’t do dishes for a week. I have to keep these babies safe. They’re worth $500. If she wins, she said she’s giving me 5% of the winnings.”
Chan almost fell out of his seat as he heard the value of your nails. “I’d guard your nails with my life, Y/N.”
Hiding was never in Hansol’s vocabulary. But because of your line of work, both of you were forced to hide your relationship—but at what cost?
౨ৎ PAIRING: idol!vernon x idol!reader (afab)
౨ৎ GENRE: fluff and angst if you squint but romantic drama with a hint of comedy
౨ৎ TAGS: established relationship, being in love, secret relationship, idols, and suggestive themes.
౨ৎ LANGUAGE: english
౨ৎ NOTES: comments, kudos, & reblogs are appreciated! finally finished it lmao (won’t use tag lists and beta readers for this fic! will set it up after this one)
౨ৎ HYPERLINKS: pinned post, ko-fi, seventeen’s master-list, and hansol’s master-list.
౨ৎ WORDCOUNT: 2.41K words.
The harsh winter weather was the last thing you wanted. The snow piling on your driveway, the cold air making your skin dry, and worst of all, it made your allergies come back. All throughout December, you chose to stay cooped up in the four corners of your own home. Your own parents knew that you never left your home during snow days, so they stocked up your refrigerator with rice, vegetables, and meat—enough to last you for the entirety of winter. Thank the gods above for making you good at cooking despite your busy schedule. At least, the ingredients your parents gave you had purpose.
As someone with a busy job, you never had the time to do the things you love. Skating, baking, and hiking were all thrown out the window once you became an idol. You never intended to be an entertainer. Ever since you were a kid, you have always wanted to be a doctor or to be a lawyer—the typical jobs kids wanted. But when your parents, specifically your mother, noticed that you had the knack for singing, you immediately went to audition at the ripe age of seven. So, while other kids went around and got dirty while playing outdoors, you instead were in the studio, training to be an idol.
“Yes, Mom, I made the kimchi last night,” you sighed as you took out the red Tupperware filled with freshly made kimchi from the fridge. It was one of those days when snow had taken over the entire city. Others chose to go out and enjoy the soft, white snow, but you? You couldn’t even be bothered to rake the pile of snow in your front yard. So, here you were, in your kitchen, dressed in your nighttime pajamas even though it was still bright outside. “Yes, Mom, I remembered to put the saeujeot this time.
As you listened to your mother’s tips on how to perfectly ferment the kimchi that you made, a pair of hands tightly hugged you from behind. “Hey, Mom!” your boyfriend, Hansol, giddily spoke as he traced circles on your stomach.
“Oh, Hansol’s here,” you laughed.
“Hello, Hansol-a!” your mother yelled. “Does his management know that he’s there? His fans might have followed him to your house, Y/N.”
Your relationship with Hansol was kept under wraps. In layman's terms, hidden from the public. Everything started when you collaborated with his friend and co-member, Minghao. He introduced you to Hansol, and from then on, your friendship blossomed into a romantic relationship—hey, you’re not the one to complain, Hansol was the complete package. He was the man of your dreams, the person you wanted to spend eternity with. But because of your jobs, your relationship had to stay hidden, as much as you both wanted to shout and yell to the world how much you loved each other, you and Hansol had to keep quiet—for the sake of your careers.
“He got here last night,” you sighed as you fed Hansol some kimchi. “No one saw him.”
“Okay, I’m just making sure,” your mom said. Even though you had to hide your relationship from everyone, luckily, both of your parents knew about it. They were ecstatic to stay the least. They loved the idea of you and Hansol together. “Bye-bye, Y/N. I need to help your sister with her project.”
“Bye, Mom,” you said. You ended the call and placed your phone on the black countertop. You finally faced Hansol, whose mouth was full of cabbage. “You liked the kimchi that much, huh?” you laughed, wiping his lips with a tissue. “By the way, Mom is right. Your fans might’ve followed you here yesterday.”
“So?” he deadpanned as he pulled you to the velvet blue loveseat you both loved. “If they followed me, then they followed me.”
Hansol hated hiding. He was the opposite of you. He would always post cryptic pictures on his social media. Your hand would sometimes be in the shot, your drink would be conveniently placed in front of him, and your shadow would be in all of his pictures. His management tried to stop him, but what can they do? Stop the man who’s so in love he would do anything to show it? Not a chance. “One of these days, your manager will drop dead because you’re so hard-headed,” you smiled as you nuzzled onto his neck.
Snow had slowly piled up on your windows, front door, and balcony. Thankfully, you had your heater and Hansol to keep you company. The weatherman announced that the snowstorm would last a whole week. For Hansol, it was his lucky week. He intended to stay all week to watch movies and to read books with you. But for you? You dreaded having to stay home. Yes, you loved the idea of spending an entire week with Hansol in the four corners of your own house. But as someone who craved work, your body needed to move. “I know what you’re thinking,” Hansol chuckled as he cuddled you. “You want to work.”
“Am I that predictable?” you sighed as you stood up, turning the fireplace on. “I need to write more songs for my next album, sol-ie.”
You sat on the cold, wooden floor, your feet resting on the white rug your father gave you as a birthday present. Being a singer was never the dream. Your dream? To make money, no matter what your job is. You never wanted to be dependent on your parents. “I know, but,” Hansol murmured as he sat beside you. “You need to take a rest, babe.”
Once again, your boyfriend was right; he always knew the right words to calm you down. He knew everything about you, and that scared you. Because what if all of this was temporary? You were in an industry where a simple rumor could ruin someone’s career. With one snap, everything that you’ve worked hard for, everything that you’ve sacrificed, would all go down the drain. “Five more years,” you sighed as you took his hand and softly caressed it. As the outside world felt cold, you and Hansol were the opposite. Your body heat radiating off of each other. Your touch easily melts Hansol’s.
“I cannot wait for our contracts to end,” he laughed as he gave the tip of your nose a kiss. But you knew that this wasn’t Hansol’s dream. No matter how you love him, you have never dreamt of taking him away from what he loves. He wanted to write songs, sing, and create art, and you don’t want to be the one who destroys that.
───────────────────────────
Piles of snow were still scattered all throughout the city. It hasn’t stopped snowing since four days ago, and it definitely bummed you out. Since you and Hansol have been cooped up in the same four walls for days, you both decided that it was better to take a break from each other. He went out with his co-members while you went to your company to work on a few things.
“Track 12 or track 19?” you asked your manager as you chewed on the ballpen. You were working on your sophomore album, and you could only think of three words right now: I’m fucking doomed.
“How about neither?” your manager laughed as she ate the rest of her burger. “You didn’t write those two songs, why choose them? What’s that song you wrote? The one that made me sob at that Subway near your house?”
She was right.
You were given five songs from different composers, and they were honestly good, just not that good for your manager's ears, because for her, no one could ever beat you. “Against all odds?” you said, throwing the pen on the table.
“Yeah, that one! You wrote that for Hansol, right?” she smirked, clearly enjoying teasing you. “Why not that?”
“That’s not ready yet,” you said as you stood up, stretching your limbs since you had been sitting for God knows how long in the small, dimly-lit studio. “And that song is about Hansol, I should at least tell him before I release it, right?” you murmured. “At least before he breaks up with me.”
“What is with this negativity, bitch?” your manager groaned. “He loves you, you love him, end of sentence!”
“Not the end of the sentence!” you sarcastically laughed as you kicked the chair lightly. “It’s a matter of time before he finds someone who’s ready to be in a relationship where you don’t have to hide. We can’t even go on dates.”
“Why, did he force you to go public?” your manager spoke in a protective tone.
You took a seat, closing your eyes and basking in Hansol’s perfume that you loved to use. “No, he didn’t,” you sighed. “I know that he’s the type of person who doesn’t care about what other people think—he posts cryptic pictures, for God’s sake.”
“So, you think that just because you don’t want to go public yet, he wants to break up with you?” your manager asked, earning a slow nod from you. “Oh, you’re dumb.”
“What the fuck?”
“Hansol loves you, Y/N!” she laughed as she sat beside you. “Look, did he say that he wanted to break up with you if you didn’t go public with him? No, right! It’s because he values what you think and he respects your decision! He loves you, honey. Private, public, or whatever the fuck your status is, he loves you.”
───────────────────────────
You got home earlier than you intended to. After your manager made you realise that Hansol was the right man for you, you quickly went to your office, took your notebook, and scribbled in a few lyrics to finish your song for him.
We never chose this life.
Yet here we are, walking with a knife,
twisted so far, our hearts slowly bleed,
dying in front of everyone.
As you wrote your heart away, you didn’t notice that a few tears had escaped your eyes, flowing through your cheeks, blurring your vision as you felt every word your ink bled. You took a second to breathe, you tried so hard to calm yourself, but all hell broke loose as you heard Hansol calling you, as if an angel brought you back up from the depths of hell, which was your mind.
“Babe, I brought pizza!” Hansol called.
“Coming!” you yelled, wiping off the tears. You rushed down the dining room to see Hansol wearing a poncho, his hair wet from the snow, his glasses fogged up. “Pepperoni and bacon?” you sniffled, giving him a peck on the lips as you opened the pizza box.
“Are you crying?” Hansol asked as he wiped your nose.
You looked at him, eyes solely focused on him, full of love. “Yes,” you sobbed, breaking down in his arms. You couldn’t even lie. You felt guilty. He was being the perfect, considerate boyfriend, yet here you were, doubting everything. “I love you, I want you.” You cried, tears drenching Hansol’s shirt.
“I love you, too,” he chuckled as he cupped your face. “Did something happen?”
“I was just watching this drama,” you lied. “It made me cry.”
Hansol, who looked puzzled, chose to believe what you said. “You watched ‘When Life Gives You Tangerines’ again, huh?” he teased.
───────────────────────────
A few days had passed, and the snow had started to subside, meaning Hansol could go back to his apartment without a fuss. In all honesty, you didn’t want him to go. After your breakdown over your relationship, you wanted to be with him more than ever—you even posted some pictures with a few hints indicating your relationship with him. But, Hansol going back to his own home was a blessing in disguise. You finally had the chance to finish your song for him.
Thank the Gods above
that they created you.
I was brought back to life
and it was all because of you.
“God, you have done it again, Y/N,” your manager cried as she finished listening to your song. “Do you have any plans on releasing it?”
“Yeah,” you chuckled as you handed her a tissue. “Probably as a single, though. Can we release it tonight?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” your manager said, choking on her own saliva. “Tonight, tonight?”
“Yeah,” you nonchalantly said.
Your manager looked at you and then looked at her laptop. With a long sigh, she quickly texted her boss, who was also your boss to begin with. Swoosh. Just like that, the message was sent. “Asked him if we can do it tonight,” she sighed. “Pray that he’s in a good mood.”
───────────────────────────
But I’m finally ready
to shout to the ends of the earth
that you are mine, and I am yours.
Against all odds.
As if the world had stopped spinning. Your name was plastered all over social media with the tag #WhoIsTheMysteryMan trending on Twitter. Surprisingly, your fans were very supportive of your revelation. No one sent hate—you actually didn’t know since you turned off your phone as your team posted the song on all platforms.
You took a sigh of relief and slumped on your couch. As you were about to turn on the television, you heard your front door open—it was Hansol with a bouquet of Tulips in his hand, a smile plastered on his face. “Is the song for me?” he asked as he gave you the flowers and sat beside you.
“Oh, no,” you joked, earning a confused look from Hansol. “Of course, it’s for you. You’re my only boyfriend, dingus.”
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, caressing your cheeks. “You can always say that the song is for a friend, or something.”
Without any hesitation, you kissed him deeply, not a single care found in your body. “I’m sure, Hansol,” you smiled in between kisses. “I have never been sure.”
───────────────────────────
So, just like that, the whole world knew about you and Hansol. You posted a picture of the bouquet he gave you, tagging him with a heart on the side. Some loved your bravery, some liked how you both hid your relationship, loving how you chose to protect each other.
For years of being together, you and Hansol have never been happier. You could finally go out on dates without getting scared of being caught.
No more hiding of what’s ours.
No more us against the world.
It’s just you and me and
our love.
Failing an exam was one thing. But having the hots for your super hot tutor was another thing.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! THIS ONE-SHOT IS NOT SAFE FOR WORK. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. SEPARATE FICTION FROM REALITY. THE CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE NOT REAL.
౨ৎ PAIRING: non-idol!seungcheol x afab!reader
౨ৎ GENRE: smut (this story contains explicit sexual content which is not suitable for minors.)
౨ৎ TAGS: penis in vagina sex, smut, top csc, dom csc, rough sex, filthy, dirty talk, consensual sex, vulgar words, vaginal sex, handjob, blowjob, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, and public sex.
౨ৎ LANGUAGE: english.
౨ৎ NOTES: always use protection! dedicated to anon who requested. comments, kudos, and reblogs are always appreciated <3
౨ৎ HYPERLINKS: pinned post, ko-fi, seventeen’s master-list, and seungcheol’s master-list.
౨ৎ WORDCOUNT: 1.98K words.
In all honesty, everyone around you knew that you were getting into any college you wanted. You loved studying—even if you chose to frequent shopping malls instead of libraries. You didn’t even have to try. You went out, you read your professor’s syllabus late, and your grades were still somewhat higher than those of others. But as you became a senior, you got tired, and sadly, you were flunking math—one more slip and you were out.
Thankfully, one of your professors was kind enough to give you a special exam. The problem? You hated math, no, no, you loathed math. It was the only course you swore you didn’t need in real life. Luckily, your professor recommended a tutor. He was your professor’s teaching assistant, but because you missed half of his classes, you never met him or emailed him—not until today.
You were quietly waiting on the last floor of your university’s twenty-four-hour library. It was a hot night, so you chose to sit by the air conditioning. Since it was nine in the evening, you could count the students studying on the other floors. As luck would have it, you were the sole person on the last floor.
You tapped your fingers on the wooden table, waiting for your tutor. After a few minutes of silently waiting, a tall, muscular man walked towards you. He had those geeky-looking glasses that sat on his nose bridge. Other than the obvious math books he was holding, you noticed something else.
He. Looked. Hot. As. Fuck.
He was wearing a plain white tee that accentuated his biceps; he also wore grey sweatpants that left an imprint of his cock—which was huge, by the way. Fuck off, don’t think about that. He’s your tutor.
“You must be Cheol?” you asked as you stood up, offering a handshake. He timidly took your hand, his fingers gently grazing yours.
He took a seat beside yours, putting all of his study materials on the table. “Yeah,” he murmured as he fixed his glasses. “Professor Fitzgerald told me you were a dean’s lister. Why the sudden need for a tutor?”
“I hate math,” you groaned as you sat. You took out your iPad and your books. “I love anything except that.”
“Well, you just need to pass this exam, then I’ll be out of your hair,” he said, his eyes fixated on yours. “So, where do we begin?”
───────────────────────────
It has been four hours, and your eyes are already droopy. You tried to wake up, but all of your efforts were a bust. Cheol, on the other hand, was too energetic. He was too good a teacher. He explained the formulas bit by bit so you could understand. It was just that you were the problem. “Can we take a break?” you moaned, rubbing your eyes as you sat back in the uncomfortable chair.
“Don’t rub your eyes,” he said. “Plus, we can have a ten-minute break.”
“Thank you!” you exclaimed. Feeling a bit hot, you removed your jacket, showing off the skimpy tank top you borrowed from your friend. Cheol tried so hard not to look at your chest—he did try, but it was just not hard enough. He felt his cock getting hard just by the sight of your breasts. “So, Cheol, you’re also a fourth-year student, right?” you asked, unaware that your tits caused something in him.
“Uh, yeah,” he choked. He adjusted in his seat, trying to cover his hard cock from you. “Biology major. What about you?”
“Chemistry,” you sighed. For a split second, your eyes landed on his cock as he adjusted himself again. God, is he hard right now? The thought of Cheol getting a hard-on just by looking at your breasts made you horny. “It’s one in the morning,”
“Stop,” Cheol moaned, guessing your intentions all too well. “We can’t.”
“Why?” you laughed. “I’m not doing anything,” you said. In your defense, you were being honest. Yeah, you were feeling something, but the thought of doing it in a public setting was not part of your dream.
“You’re poking a very horny man, Y/N,” he whispered, his eyes darkened. You could feel the tension getting thick—you weren’t naive after all. “God, I got hard as soon as you took off your jacket.”
In all honesty, you were getting horny. His way with words earlier, the way he taught you the syllabus, made you wet. Maybe you were sapiosexual, or maybe you were just imagining him railing you on top of this table. “We’re in a library,” you whispered, trying not to attract any attention. “Do you want to get banned?”
“I can’t wait, Y/N.” Cheol moaned, his cock getting harder and harder. “Just tell me if you want to do this,” he asked.
Since you were also getting horny, the thought of you and Cheol doing it in a library was making you much more horny. God, what am I doing? Without saying anything, you reached his clothed cock and slowly rubbed it, earning a low groan from Cheol. “Am I doing this right?” you batted your eyes. You slowly bit your bottom lip as you continued to rub his hard and lengthy cock.
“You’re doing everything right,” he moaned. “Touch yourself,” he commanded, which made your core ache. Is he a dom? You quickly came to your senses and did what he had asked. You slipped your left hand inside your sweatpants and fingered your aching clit.
“F-fuck.” you stuttered as your clit felt your cold fingers.
“Such a good girl,” he whispered in your ear, melting you on the spot. “Suck my cock now, Y/N.”
Every morsel of your being was now his. The commands, the look in his eyes—it was what you wanted, it was what you needed. It was as if your body knew what it was doing. You slowly kneeled in front of him. He took out his cock—it was big and veiny. You spat on its head, and you slowly licked the salty pre-cum it was oozing.
With your hair messy and your tits getting squished as you pressed yourself on the chair, Cheol couldn’t help but moan loudly. “Shh, we’ll get caught,” you said in a slutty tone, making him hornier than ever.
You didn’t let him respond as you slowly took all of him. You jerked off the parts of his cock that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You quickly bobbed your head. “God, you’re s-so fucking hot.” Cheol groaned. He was getting impatient with your teasing. He could feel himself cumming any second, so, without any notice, not even a signal, he looked into your eyes and smirked. He’s going to fuck my mouth, is he?
With a slow nod from you, he quickly fucked your mouth as if it were your pussy. It was warm and tight—so tight it hugged his cock so well. “Fuck, you’re making me crazy,” he smiled. In a matter of seconds, he took out his cock and cummed on your tank top. “Didn’t know if you swallow,” he chuckled.
“I swallow,” you laughed. “For next time.”
“I’ll remember that,” he smiled as he stood up and tugged you onto the back. It was dark enough to hide and to moan out loud. Thankfully, the view from the stairs was obstructed by the tall bookshelf. Cheol laid you on the carpeted floor and slowly removed your pants. He was met with your wet pussy—pre-cum dripping from it.
To say that Cheol was good at eating you out was an understatement—he was a fucking God. He ate you out like there was no tomorrow. “Jesus Christ,” you moaned as he inserted a finger. You could already feel your core aching—and this was only the beginning. “I’m going to cum.” you whispered.
“No,” he said. “Not yet, sweetheart.”
Cheol sat up and lined his cock onto your dripping cunt. He was teasing you so much that you rolled your eyes in annoyance. “Please, put it in,” you begged, begged so hard you rubbed yourself. “It’ll fit, trust me,” you moaned.
“Oh, really?” he laughed as he continued to rub the head of his cock. “Stop touching yourself,” he whispered, taking your hands and pinning them down. He slowly inserted his cock into your throbbing, wet cunt. He slipped in so easily, yet he was met with your tight cunt—hugging every inch of his monstrous cock, your walls remembering each and every single vein it had. He pounded and pounded, both of your lewd sounds echoing on the whole floor.
You both didn’t care if you got caught. He slipped his right hand onto your right tit and massaged it like a pillow. “Ugh, ugh,” you moaned. Your mind was now clouded. You couldn’t form any words or sentences. The only sound you omitted was moans of pleasure. “Just like that,” you laughed in pleasure as Cheol was hitting all of the right spots.
He quickly took his cock out and changed your position. You were now on top of him. You lined his girthy cock onto your entrance and slowly sank into him. All hell broke loose as you felt every inch of his cock in your cunt. You rode him like it was your last. “You’re so fucking tight,” he moaned as he rubbed your clit, sending you into a state where you only felt pleasure.
Slapping sounds made it seem you were filming porn. It was lewd and filthy. But that wasn’t the end of it. As you were both nearing your high, he again picked you up and put you on all fours. He slammed his cock onto you and pounded you with lust and sweat filling up the whole floor. “You like that?” he asked as he groped your tits. “You fucking slut.”
Any normal person would be mad if they were called a ‘slut.’ But you? You loved it. “God, u-ugh, fuck me,” you loudly moaned, not a single care in the world. You arched back and reached for his mouth—both of your pre-cums mixing as you sloppily made out, tongues fighting for dominance.
“When I tell you to cum, cum, okay?” he commanded as he fucked you sa fast, his cock would sometimes slip out of your wet, dripping cunt.
You could now feel that you were about to burst. “Can I cum?” you moaned. “Please, let me cum.” Cheol was now at your level. He couldn’t wait any longer. He just wanted to fill you up and breed you.
“Do you want me to cum inside you, princess?” he asked.
“Please, cum inside m-me,” you whimpered. “I’m on the pill.”
With the words coming out of your mouth, you both cummed at the same time. White webs of cum dripping out of you. You quickly removed his cock from your cunt and faced him, licking every single cum on his cock. “God, you’re so beautiful.”
You weren’t even finished. Even though you just cummed, you inserted yourself onto his cock and slowly rode him, making him moan in pleasure. “You’re not done yet?” he laughed as he wiped the beads of sweat on your forehead. You nodded and bit your lower lip as you fucked yourself on his cock as if it were your dildo.
“Just fuck yourself using my cock, Y/N,” he moaned, rubbing your clit at the same time.
“Who’s in there!” the librarian yelled, yet both of you were still on a high. Not a single care in the world as you continued using his cock.
“Don’t mind her,” he said. He then kissed you as he pinched your hardened nipples. He was right, you didn’t mind the librarian. Your eyes were shut as he fucked you slowly.
“I was supposed to learn math from you,” you chuckled sexily as he hit your G-spot. “I think you need to tutor me again.”
You don’t know how to kiss? Luckily, your best friend Gyu is here to help you!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! THIS ONE-SHOT IS NOT SAFE FOR WORK. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.
౨ৎ PAIRING: non-idol!mingyu x afab!reader
౨ৎ GENRE: smut (this story contains explicit sexual content which is not suitable for minors.)
౨ৎ TAGS: penis in vagina sex, smut, top kmg, vanilla sex, filthy, dirty talk, consensual sex, first time sex, vulgar words, vaginal sex, handjob, vaginal fingering, and not beta read.
౨ৎ LANGUAGE: english.
౨ৎ NOTES: hope y’all like it! always use protection!
౨ৎ HYPERLINKS: pinned post, ko-fi, seventeen’s master-list, and mingyu’s master-list.
౨ৎ WORDCOUNT: 1.82K words.
You hate it so much. Everyone around you has had their first kiss, first make-out session, and even their first sex. But you? Bone-dry. Not even your dog kisses your cheeks when you wake up. Your friends and family have all told you that it’ll come. That the right person will knock on your door and kiss you—probably love you as well, who knows. Well, it seems that the right person is lost.
You’re already twenty-seven years old. Fresh out of law school, smart, nice, and beautiful. You have tried all dating apps known to mankind. Tinder? Bumble? Hinge? All tried, tested, and failed. So, after all your failed online dates, your cousin told you to try organic dating. What kind of bullshit millennial thing is that? As per your cousin, it’s when you meet people ‘organically’ or in person. It may sound fake, but it worked for her. So, here you were, dolling up to go to your first real date, while your dog couldn’t care less. “You’re late!” you yelled as you heard the door close. “You were supposed to help me pick my dress!”
Gyu, your childhood best friend, opened the door to your bedroom and sighed. “Are you sure he’s not a serial killer?” he asked as he plopped down on your bed, petting your dog’s belly. “I brought pepper spray just in case.”
“God, you sound like my mom,” you teased as you put on the cherry red lipstick. “How do I look?” you said as you faced him. Your hair was wavy; it was like Ariel’s from ‘The Little Mermaid.’ Yet you hated it. You instead tied your hair in a ponytail.
“You look beautiful,” Gyu whispered. He eventually stopped petting Mr. Dog—yes, that is your dog’s name. “Put your hair down, I like the wavy hair.”
“Thanks,” you smiled. “But I have a problem.”
“What is it?” Gyu sat up, his eyes full of worry. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“I don’t know how to kiss.” you facepalmed yourself, clearly embarrassed at the thought of your best friend knowing that you don’t know how to kiss a man. “What if he kisses me good night or something?”
“What?” Gyu spoke, trying not to laugh.
“Fuck you, dude!” you slapped his arm. “This is a serious problem! Tease me all you want tomorrow, but now, you have to help me.”
“Fine, fine!” Gyu chuckled. “Close your fist and then kiss it. They said it’s like kissing another person’s lips.”
Following your best friend’s suggestion. You closed your fist and slowly gave it a peck. “This is literally not helping me at all,” you sighed. “What if you kiss me?”
“What?” Gyu choked on his own saliva. “Me?”
“Yeah,” you nonchalantly said. “You’re my best friend, and I trust you.”
It may be a good idea for you, but for Gyu? God, his heart was now beating out of his chest. You were unaware that Gyu, your best friend, liked you. It started off as a crush during the last year of college. Before that, he tried to suppress his feelings, telling himself that it was wrong to like you that way. But as you both become full-fledged adults, he sees another side of you that he loves—not that he didn’t love the real, unapologetic you. His love just grew and grew until it consumed him. “Are you sure?” he whispered, his heart trying to jump out.
“Yeah, nothing’s wrong with it, right?” you asked. But there was. You tried to brush it off as just ‘friends’ helping out each other, but your heart was saying otherwise. You never wanted to see Gyu out of the friendship bubble. He was your best friend for crying out loud! He saw you ugly cry during romantic dramas—snot and all.
“Yeah,” Gyu whispered. You stood up and sat beside him on your bed. You didn’t notice that Mr. Dog was already out of your room. “Just relax your lips and don’t overthink it, okay?” he said.
You nodded and closed your eyes. God, am I really kissing him? His lips quickly connected with yours. It was soft—tasted like the lip balm you gave him. As much as you wanted to rest your hands on his chest, you made sure not to. The kiss lasted ten seconds. You opened your eyes and touched your lips. “You’re my first kiss,” you said.
“I’m sorry.” Gyu chuckled as he scratched the nape of his neck. “Your first kiss should’ve been with the person you really like.”
“Who said I didn’t like you?” you said. You finally said it. A surge of courage flowed through your veins, and you slowly sat on his lap. You could feel his growing member right through your panties, making your core ache and wet. You slowly kissed him again. “Can you teach me how to make out? If it’s okay, of course. We can stop this if you want,” you said between kisses. His hand found your waist. He touched it with pure love—and you loved it.
“God, I’d want to,” he laughed, his cock aching through his pants. Even though you didn’t know what to do, you slowly grind on it, like the ones you watched, making him moan loudly. “Fuck, you don’t know how much I’ve wanted this.”
It wasn’t just him who felt aroused and horny. You could feel that you were wet. That every time your pussy felt his cock, your clit ached. “Me too,” you revealed as you and Gyu were now fully making out.
“We can stop, you know,” Gyu clarified, trying not to rush things.
“It’s fine,” you said, your mind now full of dirty, unfiltered thoughts. Gyu took you off his lap and laid you down on your bed. He took his shirt off, revealing a body sculpted by the gods above. “You have abs?” you laughed, slapping his stomach.
“You should’ve asked before,” Gyu chuckled as he peppered your collarbone with kisses. Feeling a little bit of courage, you slowly took off your dress, revealing a red bra and panties. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he said as he removed your bra. To say that your breasts were big was an understatement. They were big, big. Gyu looked at it like a kid who saw ice cream for the first time. “Are you sure you really want to do this?”
“For fucks sake, Gyu.” you groaned, pulling him down. “I’ve waited for this for years. Just fuck me.”
And that he did. He massaged your breasts like there’s no tomorrow. As his hands were busy with it, his lips found yours. This is what it feels like? “F-fuck.” you moaned as he twisted your hard nipples.
You didn’t want Gyu to feel left out. Your hands traveled down to his pants and quickly unbuttoned them. You palmed his cock, just by the feel of it, you were sure that it was long, thick, and big.
You slowly caressed his cock, earning a groan from him as he sloppily kissed you. “I think your cock wants to be free,” you teased. You slowly sat up, pushing Gyu onto the bed. He lay down and took a breath as he saw your body again. “Is it okay if I just touch it?” you asked, still not sure on what to do.
“Y/N, you don’t have to worry about me,” he assured. “We can take things slow.”
“But I want to, Gyu,” you confirmed. You tried to remember how the women on the videos you watched did it. You slowly jerked him off, his tip oozing with pre-cum. You loved how Gyu had his eyes closed, moaning endlessly as your warm hands touched his cock. “You’re so big. Will it fit me?” you asked, batting your eyes as he opened his.
“It’ll fit, trust me,” he moaned as he reached for your hair. “I’m cumming.” he whispered.
“Cum on my breasts,” you teased as you rubbed his cock onto your tits.
“F-fuck, you’re killing me,” he moaned. Just like that, he cummed onto your breasts and on your face. You felt hornier than ever. “Your turn.” As he sat up, you instinctively lay down and opened your legs. You weren’t that innocent after all.
He slowly rubbed his calloused fingers on your clit, making you moan so loud your neighbors might’ve heard you. “Oh, f-fuck.” you whimper.
“I’m going to insert a finger, okay?” he said.
“Fuck, Gyu,” you cry. “Just do it. It’s fine. I’ve done that before.”
Without any warning, he slowly inserted two fingers, making you clutch the blanket tightly. “Just like that,” you moaned. He slowly fucked you with his fingers, and it was amazing—as if you were on cloud nine. But he also took it out without warning. Edging you, as the internet calls. “Why did you pull your fingers out?” you asked.
“I want you to cum with my cock, Y/N,” he smiled as he gave you a passionate kiss. “It’ll hurt at first, so I’m going in slow, okay? Just tell me if you’re ready.” you nodded at what he said.
“I have condoms on my nightstand,” you sheepishly smiled. “Hyojung gave them yesterday. She said I might have sex with my date. Turns out it was you,” you laughed as he took the condom and inserted it onto his cock.
He rubbed the head of his cock on you. The sensation sent you into oblivion as you tightly held his hand. Just like he promised, he slowly entered you. You weren’t going to lie—it hurt like hell. He was big, after all. “Fuck,” you breathed. It was just the head, but God, you felt like a piece of paper being torn apart. “Put it in. I’m ready.”
Just like you, Gyu felt hornier than ever. He slowly inserted his throbbing cock. It was so big you whimpered in pleasure. Your walls were clenching onto his cock tightly, sending Gyu into a moaning mess. “Jesus, you’re fucking tight,” he moaned as he continuously fucked you into oblivion.
As he stretched your cunt and pounded into you, he rubbed your clitoris as well, making you moan like there’s no tomorrow. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”
He found your lips and kissed you roughly. Tongues fighting each other for dominance. As you both felt the end was nearing. Gyu pounded fast, his right hand on your tit, his left hand on your clit, and your right hand pinching his hardened nipples. After a few minutes of fucking and moaning shamelessly, you both cummed unannounced. He slowly took out his cock and the condom and tossed them in your garbage bin.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he took some tissues from your nightstand and wiped you clean.
“God, that was amazing,” you said. You sat up and touched Gyu’s face.
“I like you, if you haven’t noticed,” Gyu whispered, his gaze burning right through you.
You smiled, giving him a kiss. “I feel the same way.” you chuckled. “Fuck, my date.” you said as you remembered. He was probably waiting for you.
“Text him. Tell him you’re having sex with your best friend who loves you.” he laughed, earning a kiss from you.
All you wanted was a life of peace and innocence. But because of a past you had tried to forget, you are now sucked into an eternity of killing people who wronged you. You swore that every single human is an enemy, yet a man named Hong Jisoo might change that.
THIS WORK IS NOT SAFE FOR WORK AND CONTAINS THEMES NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
౨ৎ PAIRING: lawyer!joshua x killer/criminal!reader (afab)
౨ৎ GENRE: angst, thriller, murder, and crime.
౨ৎ TAGS: death, murder, gossip, blood, cursing, gore, torture, suggestive themes, and killing bad people.
౨ৎ NOTES: this work is not suitable for ages 16 and below. read at your own risk. all italicized sentences without quotation marks are the reader's own thoughts.
౨ৎ HYPERLINKS: pinned post, ko-fi, seventeen’s master-list, joshua’s master-list, and kill him, killer chapter list.
౨ৎ WORDCOUNT: 1.35K for chapter 1.
Run.
You prayed, prayed so hard the gods above heard you loud and clear. You never wanted it, this kind of future where you live to kill. It was never your plan. But what can you say, you got sucked, the thrill of you slowly etching your name onto your victim’s skin. You loved the rush, the feeling of choosing how your victim would die.
Do not look back.
But you had to. You just had to kill them. Because if you didn’t, you’ll relive how they killed you first, how they slowly killed your sister in front of you. Eyes shut, mouth taped, and hands tied. The bullet with your name etched on it. It was as if you were the one who pulled the trigger. A loud gasp was the last sound you heard before they dragged you out of the poorly lit room. Your sister’s lifeless body on the ground, fragile and colorless. No sign of life in her eyes.
Look ahead.
Maybe this was the life you deserved. Killing people with no remorse, no ounce of life in your eyes. Don’t get it wrong, you tried, you honestly did. You looked for an escape. A chance at a life you once wanted. But as soon as you pulled the trigger, you had an itch to kill that was so hard to cure. “Run,” you whispered, remembering how your sister screamed at you. To run.
Run.
But you didn’t. You didn’t even move an inch, let alone breathe. You just stared at her, tears flowing down your cheeks. “I should’ve run,” you laughed, staring at the white mug in front of you.
“Who should’ve run?” a voice asked. You looked up and saw your lawyer smiling at you. Even though you tried to hide the fact that you kill for a living, the law was still creeping up on you. A month ago, you were suspected of fraud. You plead not guilty. Which was a lie, of course. You took your recent victim’s credit card and splurged on it a little bit, by little, splurging on luxury brands and restaurants. What a rookie mistake.
You smiled at your lawyer as he took a seat at his desk. His office was white, too white. There were accents of black and beige, but other than that, every piece of furniture in his office was pure, innocent, if someone had asked. It was just you who made it dirty. “I said, I should’ve gone on a run this morning,” you sighed. “It’s a nice day, Atty. Hong.”
“Well, it was,” he laughed. “Now, it’s raining.”
You took a peek at the window and saw droplets of rain slowly trickling down the window. So much for a nice day. You weren’t even supposed to meet with your lawyer. But he insisted on talking in person. This could’ve been an email. “So, I talked with the prosecutor and they said all you have to do is plead guilty and do community service,” he said as he flipped the pages on the thick case file in front of him. “Give or take six months. They believe you, Y/N. Your alibi is solid.”
“I can’t plead guilty, Atty. Hong,” you groaned as you combed through your hair out of frustration. “If I do, my foster parents are going to find me. They abused me, you know that.” Lie, what a good fucking lie.
Atty. Hong, or Jisoo, looked at you with melancholy. Jisoo has been your lawyer for three months. He was nice, the epitome of what a man should be. He looked nice, as well. Clean cut, freshly shaven, smelled heavenly—he’s what a woman wants in a man. Not yours, though. If he knew the real you? God, he would be the first one to send you to jail. “Okay,” Jisoo sighed. “I’ll try to talk to the prosecutor again. Just, don’t do anything stupid.”
“Trust me, Atty. Hong,” you smiled, your fingers grazing the white mug. “I’m not a stupid person.”
After your meeting, you said your goodbyes, you left, and you went to your house as if nothing had happened. For a murderer, your house was somewhat neat. Your clothes were color coordinated, your books were placed by size, your dishes were sorted by color, and your plants were surprisingly alive. You tossed your keys onto the silver dish, and you plopped down on your couch.
Have I eaten today?
Your stomach rumbled at the thought. You haven’t done your weekly grocery shopping, so whatever’s in the fridge should work for you. You stood up and went to your kitchen. It was a nice kitchen. It had everything. An oven, dishwasher, center island, and of course, sharp knives that could cut anything. “Cheese, eggs, evaporated milk, and lime juice,” you said out loud.
God, nothing in here could make a dish.
Sighing, you took out two eggs and a single slice of processed cheese, praying that it would suffice. As you were about to get the pan, your phone rang loudly, disturbing the peace. You answered the call but did not say anything, not even a squeak or a breath. “Hello, Y/N?”
“Who is this?” you asked, slowly taking the gun under the chair.
You looked at the open window and hid behind the countertop. “It’s Jisoo,” he laughed. “Atty. Hong?”
“Oh,” you sighed. You placed your gun back in its hiding spot. “Is there a problem?”
“Not really,” he said. “You left your lip balm here. Cherry red, right?”
He called? For a lip balm? What is he?
“You can just toss it, Atty. Hong.” you rolled your eyes as you turned on the stove. You placed the non-stick pan above it, pouring a little bit of oil so that the egg wouldn’t stick. “It’s just lip balm.”
“Are you sure? It seems expensive.”
“Definitely.”
“Well, I guess I’ll just toss it, then.”
“Was there anything you wanted to talk about?” you asked as you sprinkled the teared-up cheese on the egg.
“Oh, nothing. Forget about it.”
“Seems like it’s nothing.”
“It’s unprofessional,” he chuckled. “Sorry for calling outside of work hours. See you at our next meeting, Y/N.”
Then the call ended abruptly, you might add. God, my fucking eggs are burnt. You turned off the stove and took the whole pan and tossed it into the trash can—so much for your new stainless steel pan. “Fucking hell,” you yelled as you quickly ran to your basement. The exterior of your house was nice and neat, lush flowers sprawled around the garden, but like a human, it hides something, something dark and disgusting.
You entered your basement, and you were met with a familiar sight. Cork-boards filled with crossed-out pictures, types of ammunition and weapons, cameras, microphones, computers, and a big, wide television showing you different locations around Seoul. You sat in front of one of the computers and typed out a location.
[LOCATION] YEOUIDO, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA
[ADDRESS] HJS LAW FIRM, BUILDING 1230, YEOUIDO, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA
[COORDINATES] 37°31′26″N 126°55′36″E
[CAMERA] SOUTH SIDE MAIN ROOM — JISOO’S OFFICE
…FINDING LOCATION…
…STARTING LIVE FEED…
…TURNING ON AUDIO…
You sat back, letting the computer do its magic. In a matter of seconds, you saw Jisoo’s office. He was sitting on his leather couch, examining your lip balm. “Do you want me to throw it, Atty. Hong?” Jisoo’s assistant spoke, waiting for an answer as Jisoo tightly held the lip balm.
“No, it’s fine,” he said. “Can you adjust my schedule for this month and set another meeting with Ms. Y/N next week?”
“Of course, Atty. Hong,” his assistant said as she tapped away on her iPad. “Can I ask why you are meeting Ms. Y/N again?”
“Nothing serious, I just wanted to meet her,” he smiled. He then stood up and placed your lip balm on his desk. “Besides, we value client relationships, right?” With his words, his assistant nodded and left his office.
