his venom doesn't have the effects to kill you, instead you find your body craving for him...and his eggs
@seo--changbin gave me brainrot
reblogging > liking
part 1
-contains mature themes (idk wtf possessed me while thinking of breeding and monster cocks aaaa)
its been a while since changbin's come over to your apartment. the rabbit hybrid had grown buffer. stronger, with his muscles quite literally bulging from his armsleeves.
hyunjin and him being the best of friends. an unusual friendship between a serpent and his prey.
lithe and tall versus buff and small.
you couldn't help but ogle at bin's wide upper body, sipping on some tea while you listened to their conversation.
it only lasts for a few minutes, and you stare at hyunjin. taking in the sight of your boyfriend. his scales shining under the light. the newly grown scales on his collarbones giving him a sleeker appearance.
you gulped, watching his long slender tail swish around mindlessly on the floor. eyes wandering to the way he sat on the couch.
legs parted and maybe...just maybe you could see the outline of his length. well his 'lengths'. mentally slapping yourself as you tried to look away.
"hyun...need your help" you say, already going to the kitchen. smiling at changbin. hearing hyunjin saunter into the other room without even questioning why you were calling him there.
"you look too handsome. kiss me."
grabbing his collar, pulling him down to kiss you. a surprised noise leaving him but he laughs. giving you a firm kiss.
"should we buy some pizza for dinn-"
you cut him off, with another kiss. looping your arms around his neck to jump on him. he holds you up, groaning at the sudden eagerness.
firmly squeezing your thighs. pulling away to press a palm over your mouth.
"whats up with you?" he cocks an eyebrow. truly confused with your behaviour.
you bring your hands up to touch his lips. poking his canines. they had grown longer, much sharper.
"not now. later." he lets out. and you feel your mind shut off with how sternly he warns you. whining into his neck.
its only when bin leaves that you realise why you're feeling so desperate.
were you ovulating?
was it just him being hot?
a part of you wondered if it was because he playfully bit you in the morning?
"come here." hyunjin calls out after an hour. finding you sprawled out on the bed with no thoughts in your brain.
standing at the edge of the bed, with his hands on his hips.
"i think you made me horny..." you mumble, staring at the ceiling. lower abdomen burning with want.
he hisses softly.
"this is not normal horny...this is horny on another level..."
glancing at him and you close your thighs. panties soaked. every part of your body screaming for him.
"is it cause i bit you?" hyunjin asks.
his tail wrapping around your ankle casually. and he pulls you closer to him. the display of strength leaving you breathless.
"you're a black mamba. shouldn't i die if you inject me with venom?" you whisper, unconciously spreading your legs apart.
watching as his eyes go down to your panties. the shirt you had on was his.
"so you're saying my venom is actually a 'fuck me please' aphrosidiac ?" hyunjin lets out, letting his finger prod over your panties. feeling how wet you were getting.
"hyun....give it to me"
"give what to you, baby?"
"give me it all"
"what all do you mean, sweetheart?"
"your babies...your e-eggs"
and hyunjin chokes on his spit. the grip his tail has on your leg tightens. watching you with a sharp gaze. tongue peeking out every few seconds . tasting the air.
"god, whats wrong with you" and he pulls you closer.
using the tip of his tail to push your panties to the side. hissing at how you're practically dripping. a mess between your thighs.
"h-hyunjinnn"
"mh?" tail slipping and sliding against your slit. bumping into your clit. chuckling at the way your legs close around it. but he continues poking at your cunt.
"hyunjin!" you whine, awkwardly trying to grind onto his appendage. gasping when he forces your legs apart.
the same musky smell filling the room. his tongue growing longer, fangs peeking through.
"fuck. my heat's creeping up on me" he groans, dropping his head down to exhale heavily. his scales appearing more bolder.
"your smell...you smell fucking delicious" and you whimper. watching as he tastes the air, eyes closing.
"are you gonna eat me mister snake?" you tease nervously. squeaking at the expression he makes.
obviously turned on with you acting so hopeless.
a predator and his prey.
.
.
.
writhing at the mere slide of his girth against your insides. bumps on his length hooking onto your walls.
forcing him to thrust into you with short movements. gripping your thighs with clawed fingers. leaving his marks on your body.
"yeah? i don't usually fuck my prey before eating them whole" the serpent grunts.
a long hiss slipping past his lips. throwing his head back at the feeling of your cunt pulling him in. squeezing his dicks and coating them with arousal.
"h-hyun" you cry, body overheating with how much you wanted. this wasn't enough. you needed to feel him in your cervix.
this wasn't how you'd act. was it really his venom?
"shhh~" as he sits on his haunches. fucking into you harder. his pupils turning into pretty slits. taking in the sight of your body reacting so well to him.
shivering when he places a claw on your breastbone. gently sliding it down to where your uterus would be. and he draws slow circles over the skin.
"want me here, don't you~" and you nod aggressively, not expecting him to slide his finger lower.
placing the pad of his calloused finger over your clit gently. his thrusts having you slide up on the bed and back down.
"you'll take my eggs like a good mate would, won't you, my precious.."
gathering your slick and pinching at your swollen bundle of nerves.
grinning lazily when you let out a little scream. squirming at his tortorous teasing. cooeing as you beg for him.
hands flying down to weakly hold onto his wrist. but he's strong and only flicks your clit meanly.
.
.
.
to say its a weird sensation is an understatement. his hand intertwined with yours, calming you down as one of his dick throbs.
stuffed so deep inside you that when you feel the first egg, its another sensation of fullness.
filling you with more cum while he pumps another into you. maybe soft shelled eggs weren't that bad.
the third egg, however makes you whine at the stretch. a tinge of discomfort.
gasping at how his tail seems to have a mind of its own. wrapping around your ankle and quite literally spreading your legs apart. hooking your left leg over his shoulder.
"m'here. f-fuck taking me so well" hyunjin praises. pressing down on your lower abdomen. revellling in the way you keep it in.
"no venom for you next time" he chuckles, and you breath heavily. overwhelmed with everything. body buzzing with pure pleasure and satisfaction.
"m-more" you tease. laughing at how his eyes widen. going back to normal.
"MORE?!"
.
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plz i love snakie hyunnie so much. its an obsession at this point. soft serpent hyunnie drabble coming soon hopefullyyyy
genre: crackfic, dark comedy, dark romance, thriller
summary: hyunjin invites you over to hang out with him and his friends. they try to kill you. you survive! aaaand now they’re obsessed with you.
warnings: non idol au, attempted murder of protagonist(reader), violence, blood, stalking, obsessive behavior, mentions of death/murder/dismemberment/(implied)rape(it’s just in a conversation, it didn’t happen to anyone in the fic!!), cursing, homicidal behavior/psychopathy, dumb han and felix, people die, the love interests(skz) are the problem, nobody here is okay, english is obvi not my first language
word count: 13k
you almost got murdered.
by eight gorgeous men.
yea, y/n. you got yourself into that situation. but how?
you were walking home once, minding your own business, chewing on some thought. could have been anything. from dinner to what you need to do tomorrow, let’s not act like it matters. none of these little details matter, what does, is that a man was walking towards you. (an: guys i’ll clarify it now that it’s hyunjin. i just hate when fanfics try to describe looks when we don’t know names yet)
the man passed you. smelled great. nothing more.
“is this yours?”
that was him. his voice. he talked to you.
you stopped then and turned around. he was also standing still, looking at you. holding a single airpod.
no. it was not yours. at all. not your airpod.
“shit. yes, it is.” you smiled. a hundred percent aware that the single airpod was not yours.
hyunjin smiled, relieved in a way that suggested he had not planned beyond step one: talk to pretty girl. he asked your name. you asked his. he pretended he wasn’t internally rehearsing how to introduce you to the worst decision of your life.
and that’s exactly how you got yourself into the situation before your getting murdered one, where you kept seeing hyunjin, never really revealing that the airpod was not yours. you didn’t want to, he was just so cute.
and also a serial killer, not like you knew that though.
hyunjin was always the best with the women. or with the people in general. the other seven guys were… doing alright with them, sure, some better and some worse, but hyunjin always got what he wanted. he was the one collecting the people, another person to kill.
which did not happen to you, duh it’s in the first line, but how? how, when the eight of them, eight little nobodies who only got through life because of each other, are so good at killing? how, when it’s the main thing that bonds them together and gives them their sick little dosage of joy? how, when that’s the thing they can do best? how, when they’re fit? lucky? hot?
yea i’ll just stop with all the questions. i’m boutta explain, obvi.
so. you two started meeting up. you not telling him that the airpod wasn’t yours, him not telling you he was planning on sliming you out.
once, he invited you out. you two have been out hundreds and thousands of times(like five times), so it didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary to you. not a date, he said hang out. his place. “a few friends might be there” he added. you went. fucking idiot.
the place was so fucking cool. big. looked good. kinda place where you immediately lost cell service and your sense of direction.
“that’s just the guys.” hyunjin had also said when you two got there, gesturing inside.
you met them all in under three minutes, which was about two minutes too many. chan was a gentleman. he smiled. he shook your hand. he had huge arms and was gorgeous.
minho and seungmin both looked like they hated you. looked you up and down. acted like bitches. acted like they didn’t understand what you wanted when you said hi and introduced yourself. acted like you were beneath them. hm.
changbin saved the moment by immediately knocking over a chair and laughing at himself. he was sweet. he asked you if you wanted a drink. that was nice, because he meant that. he wanted to get you something to drink, even if he wanted to kill you after. wanting to absolutely murder you wasn’t personal, so he wasn’t going to make it personal.
felix and unfortunately han, two sunshine or whatever you heard the guys say about them(why were there two?) were sweet, but dumb. han tried to shake your hand and missed. felix complimented your shoes and then apologized to the floor.
jeongin bowed. he asked if you were real. he told chan you were out of his league. chan was about to smash his head into a wall. he seemed intelligent though, a little playful, a little flirty. sweet guy. (also a fucking psychopath y/n run run RUN)
through all of it, hyunjin, the liar, the asshole, stayed near you. calm. watching. soooo fucking hot, man. everyone else was loud or mean or deeply stupid, but hyunjin looked at you like he didn’t quite know what to do with you.
which was funny, because the rest of them clearly knew exactly what they wanted to do with you.
they were bad at hiding it. terrible, actually. chan kept whispering. minho and seungmin stared too long. felix dropped something sharp and went “oops”. jeongin asked, loudly, if you were good at running, then immediately said he meant marathons.
you thought they were weird. intense. hot, unfortunately. you had no idea you were being sized up.
so. like two hours into the hang out. you didn’t have your phone with you, it was in the living room somewhere. you were in the kitchen with hyunjin, leaning against a counter, listening to him explain, calmly, something about the cabinets.
“uhuh.” you said, opening three drawers and finding nothing but knives. so many knives. “oouukay.”
from the living room, something heavy scraped across the floor.
“alright.” chan’s voice came. “enough foreplay.”
you frowned, no idea what he was referring to. yet. “that’s a weird thing to say out loud.”
hyunjin hummed. then seungmin appeared in the doorway, posture lazy, swaying a lil, with a fire poker in his hand. i repeat, fire poker.
you had just enough time to think oh that’s new, before he swung. clean. aimed at your head.
you ducked on instinct. the poker smashed into the cabinet behind you, splintering wood, sending a drawer of knives exploding onto the floor.
everyone froze for half a second.
“jesus.” changbin said from somewhere nearby. “we just fixed that.”
you stared at seungmin. he stared back. you two stared at each other for a while.
“…huh.” you said. “okay.”
then you ran.
the boys just… got into it immediately. switched. getting up. listening to your footsteps. laughing. jeongin whooped. they all obviously had done this before. they were so boyish, all of them. and so fucking evil.
you ran down a hallway, heart slamming in your ribs. a door on your left? locked. on your right, open.
you ran into a study and immediately regretted it. felix was there, sitting on a desk, holding a crossbow. WHERE. DID. HE. GET. THAT. FROM.
“oh!” he said, genuinely delighted. “hey.”
“move.” you snapped.
he winced sympathetically. “can’t.”
the shit that he shot out of the bow that i don’t know the name of thunked into the wall beside your head. close enough that you felt the vibration.
“fuck you.” you said, accepting it surprisingly quick that you were getting hunted down.
you burst back into the hall and nearly collided with changbin. he caught you by the shoulders automatically, steadying you.
“okay.” he said, quick and quiet. “left stair’s blocked. right one buys you maybe twenty seconds.”
“why are you telling me?” you panted.
he shrugged. “i like you.”
then he leaned down, pressed a quick kiss into your hair, warm, apologetic, and shoved you forward by the middle of your back.
“go.” he said. “before i change my mind.”
you went.
behind you, he called out cheerfully: “she went right!”
“YOU FUCKING LIAR.” minho yelled immediately.
you ran up the stairs two at a time. at the top when you turned, han was waiting, holding a bat.
“oh shit.” he said. “hi.”
you grabbed the bat mid-swing, yanked it free, and cracked him across the shin. you fucking rock y/n.
he screamed, fell over, and immediately yelled: “timeout! timeout!”
you ditched the bat(DUMB bitch) and ran into what looked like a… whatever room. it was big, too big, too open, too much of a bad choice.
chan stepped into your path. was this bitch there the whole time? no, he couldn’t be. could he?
you spun, only to find minho closing in. you kicked him in the knee. hard. he lunged. you ducked, grabbed a chair again and swung blindly. the thing is, you were extremely weak tho. the chair could have been a fucking pillow at this point, because he just stepped away from it. and you… kinda went with the chair. but you stood up! luckily.
they loved this. they loved the way you fought. the way you adapted. the way you didn’t scream, just swore and moved and made it harder than it was supposed to be. it made them better. sharper. meaner. more playful.
you ran out the door you came in thru and shut it behind you, jamming a heavy table against it. the boys could have prevented that, they just didn’t. you were way too fun, and they knew that you were getting tired. they knew they were going to win this. again.
you waited a bit.
the door shuddered. once. twice.
then stopped.
silence.
your stomach dropped. that was never good.
“okay.” hyunjin’s calm voice came, suddenly close, from behind you. “i’m gonna need you to turn around.”
you spun.
for a moment, you just stared at each other.
“yeah.” you said breathlessly. “so. the airpod?”
he winced. “yeah.”
“figures. sorry for lying about it.”
“it’s fine. i lied too.” he stepped aside, gesturing toward a side door. gentlemanly. insane. “run.” he said. “i’ll count to five.”
“why?”
he smiled, small. “because it’s more fun when you almost make it.”
you didn’t wait for five. you ran again, heart in your throat.
“YOU’RE DOING GREAT!” felix shouted when he saw you run past him. “I MEAN—STOP!”
yeah. pfftt.
the house stopped making sense after a while. corridors doubled back on themselves, which was fucking brutal. there were rooms you swore you’d already crossed. you ducked into a side room and slammed the door, immediately realizing, too late, that it didn’t lock.
“fuck.” you whispered, hands on your knees, trying to quiet your breathing. and you listened. footsteps walked past. someone laughed, a really… loud laugh. jeongin’s voice echoed from somewhere far off. you could hear how unserious his voice was, talking bout sum “she’s still upright, folks, which is honestly impressive” genuinely just making fun of the situation.
“keys.” you muttered. “i need keys.” because you clearly remembered hyunjin closing the front door after you.
from behind the curtain came a soft, confused, very close: “…huh.”
you froze.
the curtain moved. it was han, holding a knife and a flashlight upside down, blinking at you.
“oh” he said. “hi.”
third hi he said tonight. hi to you too, han.
you stared at each other.
“uh.” he said.
“yeah.” you replied.
a beat passed.
another.
he frowned at the flashlight, turned it the right way up, immediately blinded himself, and yelped.
“sorry.” he said, rubbing his eyes. “didn’t mean to corner you.” serial killer btw.
“you did.” you said. “that’s literally what you did.”
“right.” he nodded. “yeah. so. i’m supposed to, uh—” he made a weak stabbing motion with his hand that held the knife. missed entirely. “—do the thing.”
you glanced at the knife in his hand. them at him. then back at the knife. “you don’t look super confident about that.” you said.
he shrugged. “i get nervous.” he hesitated. then leaned in and whispered: “hyunjin gave his keys to chan, i saw it.”
“…thaaanks.”
he smiled, shy. “okay.” he said, stepping aside. “i’m gonna count to… uh… what’s fair?”
“ten.” you said immediately.
he nodded seriously. “ten.”
you bolted.
“ONE—” he shouted, already losing count. “THREE—WAIT—”
you ran out. didn’t get far though, you heard too many noises, so you did what made sense at the moment. hide again. and you did hide again, at least tried, you were soon interrupted by seeing felix, who was crouched behind a couch, chewing on a cereal bar.
he looked up mid bite. “oh. hello again.”
“move. again.” you said.
he scooted instantly. “yep.”
you walked past. paused. looked back. “why are you hiding?”
he swallowed. “i forgot what the plan was.”
“oh. i’m sorry.”
“it’s alright.”
from the hallway, heavy footsteps approached. chan, probably. he walks confident. you can just… hear his walk. felix heard it too. he grimaced.
“he’s gonna be mad.” felix whispered. “he hates when i lose track.”
you looked at felix. then at the hallway. then back at felix. “you’re fine. it’s not your fault. i think so, at least.” you looked around. “he just feels like the fucking star of the show, having the keys and all that”
felix’s eyes lit up. “oh! yeah, he’s got those.”
boom. that was your plan. sneak the keys into the conversation. get to know about it. you’ll be out of there in no time, y/n.
you looked back at him. “can you distract him?”
felix thought for a second, then shook his pretty head enthusiastically. “absolutely not.”
“…fair.”
he stood anyway, squared his shoulders, and ran into the hallway yelling “HEY BRO I THINK SHE WENT—”
you didn’t hear the rest. you ran. you climbed stairs, ducked under a railing(just being extra for no reason pfffft), slipped through a door that led into a laundry room, and locked it. the blessed, beautiful click of a lock nearly made you cry. then you crouched between machines, shaking, trying not to laugh or scream or do both.
minutes passed. nothing. then, a knock. polite. gentle.
you stared at the door.
hyunjin’s voice followed, calm as ever. “i’m not coming in.”
“yeah?” you called. “promise?”
“cross my heart.”
“don’t have one.” jeongin added from somewhere farther back.
hyunjin sighed.
the fact that jeongin heard you talk and didn’t go to the laundry room says a lot about them though. tells you that they’re doing this for fun. that they’re not in a hurry at all.
you edged closer to the door, careful. “i need the keys.”
“i know.”
“give them to me.”
a pause. you imagined him leaning against the wall, hands in pockets, watching the floor. “you almost deserve them.” he said. “that’s the problem.” from down the hall came a crash, followed by changbin yelling. hyunjin continued anyway, softer now. “if you get them, though… you’re really leaving.”
“yes.”
“shame.”
fucking manipulator. that’s what he is. “you’re really leaving” oh boo fucking hoo. sappy asshole. not one sincere bone in his beautiful body.
the doorknob jiggled once.
“five minutes.” he said. “that’s what I can give you.”
then footsteps retreated. you sagged against the dryer, adrenaline basically ripping your muscles. five minutes. okay. you had to get out for sure, otherwise you would be so dead. so, next, run. you were going to run. open the door and… go… some… way. anyways, that’s what you did after about one minute of sitting on the floor and thinking about how will you do that. you got out, and didn’t stop running so much as you failed forward into the next hallway.
somewhere behind you, han shouted your name wrong, twice, then tripped over absolutely nothing and went down with a sound like a dropped bookshelf.
“FUCK.” he yelled. “i’m okay! I’M OKAY.”
you risked a glance back just in time to see him scramble up, only to immediately collide with minho, who had come around the corner too fast. they hit the wall together, tangled, swearing.
you burst through a door and nearly slammed straight into seungmin. both of you froze. like actually froze. inches apart. his breath was loud. yours was worse. he stared at you. you stared at him. his grip tightened on whatever sharp thing he had in his hand.
“…hi.” you said.
“sup.” he said. “you’re shorter up close.”
“fuck you.”
“later.” he agreed easily.
you looked at him, furrowing your pretty brows.
he glanced down at the knife in his hand, then back up at you. “this is awkward.”
“yeah.”
he tilted his head. “you okay?”
“no.” you said.
“hm.”
there was a beat where neither of you moved. somewhere far away, something crashed, probably han.
seungmin tilted his head. “you gonna run, or are we doing this weird staring thing?”
you lunged left.
he lunged right.
you both smacked into the same doorframe and recoiled in pain.
“fuck.” you mumbled, rubbing your pretty head.
“shit, okay, that one’s on me.” he admitted, rubbing his shoulder. his pretty shoulder. that sweater looked good on him, by the way. yeah. hm. really good. but that didn’t fucking matter when he lunged again.
you screamed, slipped on a rug, and went down hard, only for minho to come in from the side and tackle seungmin directly into a glass table. the table shattered.
you stared.
they stared back.
“…go.” seungmin shook his head, waving you off.
you did not need to be told twice. behind you, minho yelled smth like “WHY ARE YOU LETTING HER GO?”
a crash. a thud.
then seungmin, very calmly: “because you’re pissing me off.”
you ran straight into han and felix arguing at the end of the hall.
“i said left.” han insisted, holding a crowbar upside down.
“you always say left.” felix argued, holding a taser and clearly forgetting how it worked.
you skidded to a stop.
all three of you froze.
you were panting. “can you both—”
felix lunged. han lunged. they lunged into each other. they crashed, arms everywhere, legs everywhere, clothes everywhere, the smell of men everywhere, tangled up, the taser going off uselessly into the air.
“STOP STABBING MY JACKET.” felix yelled.
“I THOUGHT YOU WERE HER.” han yelled back.
you stepped over them. “thank you.” you said sincerely, and ran.
you rounded a corner and slammed straight into chan, full chest to chest. you both stumbled back a step. he held you automatically, hands on your arms. you stared up at him. he stared down at you.
he almost smiled.
then han came sprinting in, tripped over absolutely nothing, and took chan out at the knees.
“OH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY.” han yelled, tangled in chan’s limbs. “I DIDN’T SEE YOU.”
seungmin and minho found you again. jeongin leaned against a wall, wiping dust off his knees. han just got up and felix came in late, and they tripped over each other again. chan just sighed at this point.
you backed toward the door, hands up.
then while getting up, felix slipped. took han down with him. again. they crashed into minho, who slammed into seungmin.
jeongin smiled. “DOMINOES!”
that was your chance to do something. something to even just slow these guys down, anything, bro. so, you did. when chan stood up finally, you lunged for him.
but like… that asshole just laughed in your face and twisted away easily, shoving you past him. “go.” he said. “you’re warmer when you keep moving.”
weirdo. but you ran again anyway, down a side corridor, thru a door and immediately ate shit. your foot caught on absolutely nothing, and you slid, palms burning, your pretty little skin they want to cut so bad just gone like that.
behind you, there was a collective “OOHHHH.”
you rolled your eyes. sighed. thought about just lying there because they would probably still miss even if you were completely still. you decided maybe not. so you scrambled up and ran again, swearing, adrenaline making everything feel fucking crazy. unreal. is this really happening?
you didn’t know how long you ran. time stopped somewhere around the third near death experience.
you went downstairs and upstairs and downstairs again, back and forth, hoping to find something that could save your life. when you were back at the stairs for the seventh time that night, you took the stairs three at a time, only to find han at the top, again, wheezing, holding a knife backwards.
“WAIT.” he said. “hold on—timeout—my lung—”
you ran past him.
he immediately tripped over his own foot and tumbled down the stairs alone, screaming “I’M FINE—I’M NOT FINE—TELL MY MOM—”
you didn’t look back. you burst into a bedroom and slammed the door, locking it just as something heavy hit the other side.
silence.
your chest heaved. sweat slicked your now skinless palms. you pressed your back to the door and slid down until you were sitting on the floor, brain finally catching up enough to think.
okay. door. big house. front door has keys. keys are on someone. they told you it’s at chan but he could have gave it to anyone since that.
that was bad.
you stood, looking through the room. window. too high. bathroom. connected. closet. tiny but usable. fuck yes. you hid in the closet just as the door opened.
footsteps. slow. unhurried. manly.
“you know, i really thought we had something.” jeongin. sweet. acting, obviously.
you clapped a hand over your mouth.
he paced the room, dragging something metal lightly along furniture. an axe, maybe.
“like, don’t get me wrong.” he continued conversationally, “i love the chase. big fan. but the eye contact earlier? intimate.”
you heard him stop in front of the closet.
“…you in there?”
you didn’t move.
he sighed. then, dropped to his knees. you could see him through the slats now, sprawled on the floor.
“y/n.”
you could hear your breathing. you could also hear his. which meant…
“come out.”
…he could hear yours too.
okay. fuck. your only option was to make a run for it. so, after taking a biiiiig big breath, you burst out of the closet and kicked him in the shoulder. was it successful? was it a good kick? who knows. it knocked him down, that’s what matters, but it was a pretty lame kick after all. he only went down because he wanted to, not because you actually kicked him good.
anyways, you ran again. out the room. then immediately skidded to a stop when seungmin opened a door in front of you.
he stepped aside immediately. “after you.” he said, gesturing inside.
you stared at him.
he stared back.
you could hear hyunjin make a noise, talking with changbin.
seungmin raised his brows. “i insist.”
he knew that you needed an escape route and this was your only option. you knew he knew.
you sighed. ran through it, and it slammed shut behind you. you could hear a snicker(his voice), then silence. maybe he left. maybe not.
the room you were in was darker. storage. boxes. is this place even owned by these guys? or do they just come here to… play?
you hid behind a shelf, crouching, heart in your ears.
okay. think.
front door. locked. too obvious. you needed keys. you needed a person.
but they were playing. this wasn’t about killing you quickly. it was about the fun. about testing themselves. about proving, again, that they were smarter, faster, better. the teamwork thrilled them. having prey thrilled them.
footsteps approached. you tensed.
door opened. han stepped into the room, tripped over absolutely nothing, and face-planted into a stack of boxes. why always this guy?
“oh COME ON.” he groaned. “i wasn’t even chasing her!”
neither of you moved.
“…you okay?” you asked.
“yeah.” he said, looking up, nose bleeding. “yeah. you?”
“living the dream.”
he nodded. then, very gently, he pointed back towards the door. “they’re coming.” he whispered.
in the doorway, felix appeared, pointing at han. “dude. again?”
you took the chance and got out of your hiding place, quick, and bolted past them both.
felix gasped. “oh shit—sorry—sorry—”
han tried to follow, slipped again, and yelled: “WAIT FOR ME!”
a crash. a curse. someone else falling over him.
you ran down the hall toward what you hoped was the front of the house. behind you, shouting, laughter, whooping, bodies colliding, someone yelling “WHO LEFT THIS CHAIR HERE?” you rounded a corner and skidded to a stop in front of the front door. you tried the door. locked. you didn’t know where the keys are. your chest tightened. behind you, footsteps slowed. confident. chan, seungmin, minho, jeongin, closing in.
you turned around. the wall met your back hard enough to knock the air out of you.
“okay.” you said, breathless, palms flat against cold wood. “okay. this is—yeah. alright.”
the other four found you too. felix, panting. han, limping. hyunjin and changbin obviously not affected because they didn’t really take part of the chase. blocking off every possible exit.
chan didn’t take his eyes off you. “everyone good?” he asked, calm. so fucking calm. knowing he won.
“peachy.” jeongin said.
“bit winded.” felix added. “but spiritually fulfilled.”
changbin gave you an apologetic little wave. “sorry.”
two seconds later, seungmin lunged.
you fought, harder than they expected, apparently, elbowing, kicking, swearing. but they were coordinated now, hands grabbing wrists, legs hooking yours, pressure applied. you went down. not slammed, though. controlled. that fucking pissed you off more.
seungmin had your arms pinned. minho had a knee near your thigh, firm. chan crouched in front of you, looking down at your pretty face.
the second you were fully restrained, jeongin shrieked. “oh my GOD we got her!”
he leapt into felix’s arms. felix caught him, squealing back.
“we did it!” felix yelled.
they spun once. almost fell. han clapped wildly and then tripped into changbin, taking them both down.
you lay there, chest heaving, heart pounding, not knowing what the fuck was happening. because they didn’t seem dangerous, but you knew they were.
chan tilted his head. “you ran well.”
“thanks.” you said.
jeongin crouched low, level with your face. “so. how you feeling?”
“fuck off.”
hyunjin tilted his pretty head, hands in his pockets. “you did really well.” he told you quietly.
you forced yourself to breathe slower. think. keys. chan’s jacket pocket. right side. you’d seen the outline earlier when he caught one of the boys mid fall.
jeongin tilted his head at you. “are you afraid? like, i’m actually asking, because i need to know what to do differently next time. are you afraid of death? did we make you feel like you’re going to die? how would you rate it out of ten?”
you sighed, looking down at the floor. “getting killed is, like, the last thing on my list right now.”
they paused.
seungmin grimaced. “yeah, no.”
“oh, no.” felix said, shaking his head
“dude.” minho murmured.
“we would never.” changbin whispered.
“ew.” han blurted, horrified.
you narrowed your eyes. “ew?”
“no—no—not ew you.” he babbled. “i mean—fuck—you’re hot—shit—sorry—what I meant was—”
jeongin smacked the back of his head. “stop talking.”
seungmin grimaced. “we’re not… that evil.”
minho crossed his arms. “jesus.”
chen straightened slightly. “that’s not our thing.”
you watched it all carefully. the discomfort. the immediate correction. the way the tone shifted. interesting.
“relax.” you said, rolling your neck as much as the hold allowed. “i know.”
“thank you.” han said, sweating. “sorry. respectfully.”
“you’re fine.” you murmured.
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
but something had shifted. you saw it. that weird line you’d dropped, half joke, half truth because it’s horrible that we have to live in a world like this, hit somewhere they didn’t like. their version of evil had rules. sooo fucking weird ones, but still.
“okay.” you said suddenly. “wait. wait.”
they paused.
“what.”
“i think i’m gonna throw up.”
“fuck—” changbin recoiled.
“not on me.” minho said, backing up.
“turn her head!” felix yelped.
jeongin scrambled backward on his hands and feet.
chan watched seungmin loosen his grip just a fraction, instinct overriding everything. “are you actually nauseous?”
“yeah.” you croaked, gagging for effect. “stress. adrenaline. it hit now that i’m still.”
hyunjin crouched beside you, studying your face. “you might want to give her space.”
“THANK you.” you gasped.
they got off you. you rolled to your side, clutching your stomach dramatically. and in that shuffle, arms moving, balance adjusting, you shoved your hand straight into chan’s jacket pocket. your fingers hit metal.
keys.
you grabbed them and curled them into your palm just as jeongin leaned back in. “you good?”
you scrambled to your knees, pushing past them, one hand over your mouth, the other clenched tight around the keys.
“don’t run.” chan warned.
you made eye contact with him.
and ran.
“FUCK.” seungmin yelled.
“GO GO GO.” han screamed, even though he was on the wrong side.
you sprinted down the hallway, heart about to explode, keys biting into your palm. behind you, footsteps. but now… less playful. more oh shit.
han tripped immediately. felix ran into a wall. changbin yelled: “STAIRS—CUT HER OFF—” and jeongin was just shouting around for fun. just hootin n hollerin.
you ran down the hall.
behind you, hyunjin’s calm voice said: “don’t panic.” which was funny. because they finally were.
you ran away from them. deep into the house again. you heard the footsteps disappear from behind you. good. good.
you slowed just enough to think. you couldn’t outrun eight of them forever.
chan and hyunjin were walking together on the halls. hyunjin had a small, neat folding knife now resting loose between his fingers. chan had taken a syringe with him. already prepped. yes, he can do a lot with only one syringe. his other hand kept brushing the empty space where the keys used to be.
he didn’t like that.
“she took them clean.” chan said.
“yeah.” hyunjin replied quietly. “good hands.”
chan glanced at him. “you sound impressed.”
“i am.”
“you like her?”
hyunjin didn’t answer.
“if we lose her, we change locations.” chan said, ignoring that his earlier question didn’t get an answer. he already knew it.
hyunjin nodded. but there was something under it. for the first time, the outcome wasn’t certain. that was unusual for them, because they usually did really, really good at this. once someone was caught by them, there was no escape. you were the first one who lived to a second round. he found that interesting. and yeah, he might have started developing a tiny little crush on you, back when you two were just meeting up normally. so what? he’s allowed to!
jeongin moved alone. still with his axe that he’d twirled into familiarity. he swung it lightly as he walked. he checked corners, smiling. as if he was dancing.
“y/n.” he called, sing-song. “be honest, was it the flirting? too much? i can dial it back. slightly.”
he stepped over a fallen chair.
“i just feel like we had chemistry.”
he grinned to himself. he loved this part, the story, the tension, the almost. he knew you were thinking now. they got a thinker. he loves that. he hates that.
he paused, listening. then grinned. “oh, you sneaky girl.”
seungmin had the fire poker again. reliable. brutal.
he liked the chase because it stripped people down to instinct. no masks. no pretending. no lying. just raw survival. that’s what he respected.
“c’mon.” he murmured. “don’t go quiet on me.”
you were irritating him. he barely got irritated. ever.
changbin and minho moved together. changbin carried an injection case now, plus a heavy flashlight he could swing if needed. minho had a hunting knife.
they turned a corner. empty.
“she’s doing something.” minho realized.
changbin’s smile(that came upon his face while he was thinking about you, hehehe) faded. “oh.”
they heard a noise and both spun, only to slam into each other again.
“FOR FUCK’S SAKE.” minho snapped.
“shit.” changbin said, steadying the other guy by his shoulders. “let’s just go.”
you moved through hallways. your lungs burned, but your head was clear now. you slipped into a side room and crouched low, listening.
footsteps passed. voices echoed elsewhere. they’d spread too wide.
you waited. counted to twenty. then moved.
back at the hyunjin chan duo, hyunjin stopped in the hallway. “she’s heading back.” he said quietly.
chan. followed his gaze toward the front of the house. “you sure?”
“yes.”
“how?”
“it’s what i’d do.”
meanwhile, at the front door han sat on the floor, back against the wall, holding a shovel. felix sat beside him on the other side of the door with a frying pan he absolutely did not need to be trusted with.
“…we guarding?” han asked.
felix looked at the door. looked at the hallway. looked back at the door.
“…yeah.” he decided.
they both nodded, serious.
“you think she thinks i’m cute?” han asked, adjusting his grip on the shovel.
“bro.” felix said immediately. “absolutely.”
“really?”
“yea, mate.”
they dapped each other up.
“if she makes it back here, i call saying something smooth.” felix said thoughtfully.
“what’s smooth?”
“i don’t know yet.”
while they talked, you grabbed a metal… something from a side table. and started walking back toward the front door.
“she definitely liked when i said she was hot.” han said.
“respectfully.” felix said.
“respectfully.” han looked away, then back at felix. “she’s gonna be so impressed when we catch her.”
“dude. literally.”
they fist bumped.
then, a loud sound came from down the hallway, and a metal object rolling fast across the floor toward them.
they screamed, then scrambled to their feet, immediately abandoning the door.
“dude. we’re gonna fucking die.” han cried.
felix grabbed his arm. “if y/n was here right now, she’d hold my hand.”
“yeah.” han said, terrified. “she’d be so brave.”
“should we check?”
“absolutely not.”
“…we should get the others.”
“yes.”
they ran away from the door, deeper back into the house, yelling for backup.
the front door stood unguarded.
you waited three full seconds after their footsteps faded. then you moved. silent. you didn’t run, that was important. you didn’t want to make noise.
behind you, distant voices.
“FRONT DOOR!”
“THEY LEFT IT—”
you walked to the door quickly. put the key in. wrong key. tried another. wrong key. another. unlocked it. opened it.
now, you ran. you ran, and didn’t stop. you didn’t look back. already past the gate. past the trees. gone.
for the first time ever, they’d lost.
the boys regrouped at the front door. empty. door slightly open.
silence.
chan looked at the door. then at hyunjin, who stared at the gap, face blank. he felt respect. and relief.
seungmin looked at the lock. then at chan’s empty pocket. then back at the lock.
for a second, nobody spoke.
“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” minho said, sneering.
behind them, han and felix jogged in, out of breath and pale.
“okay.” felix panted. “so—update—there’s a hallway demon—”
they stopped when they saw everyone standing still, all backs turned to them.
felix looked around. “anyone else feel a breeze?”
chan walked to the door in three steps and shoved it open the rest of the way. empty driveway. dark trees. no you.
jeongin blinked. “…no.”
seungmin made a sound like someone had just run over his foot. “noooo.”
minho rubbed both hands down his face. “no no no no—”
jeongin looked at the ceiling. “oh that’s embarrassing. that’s so embarrassing for us.”
han gasped “shit, she did it!”
felix nodded. “i always believed in her.”
they high-fived.
every head turned.
“are you two serious right now?” seungmin snapped.
han immediately jumped into felix arms.
chan stepped back inside slowly and shut the door, quiet. too quiet. “no one moves.” he said.
seungmin was already halfway to the threshold, fire poker still in hand. “we can still see the road—”
chan grabbed his arm. hard. “i said no.”
seungmin yanked free. “she’s on foot.”
“she has a head start.”
jeongin crossed his arms, shifting his weight. “so we just—what—clap?”
“use your brain for once.” chan, voice low. “you’ll make mistakes.”
“oh, i’m sorry.” seungmin snapped. “did your pocket make a mistake?”
OHHHHH.
minho swore and kicked a chair across the room. it smashed into the wall. “THIS is why we don’t get cute.” he said. “this is why we don’t play with our food.”
chanbin winced. “okay, that phrase—”
“not the time.” seungmin cut in.
hyunjin leaned against a table, arms crossed, watching the boys.
seungmin looked at him, suspicious. the level of angry where he gets suspicious at anything. “you’re quiet.”
“thinking.”
“about?”
hyunjin didn’t answer.
“you liked her.” minho accused.
hyunjin’s eyes flicked to him, calm and flat. “irrelevant.”
“bullshit.”
chan stepped between them before it turned physical. “enough.”
“no, not enough.” jeongin shot back. “she got past eight of us. eight.”
“seven.” seungmin muttered. “i was close.”
“YOU HIT A CABINET.” changbin screeched.
felix, still holding han bridal style, raised a hand. “i think we should acknowledge that she was very good.”
everyone stared at him.
han nodded seriously. “and brave.”
minho looked like he might actually kill them. “put him down.”
felix gently set han on his feet.
han immediately pointed at minho. “your energy is aggressive.”
minho grabbed a glass off a table and hurled it into the fireplace. it shattered. “THIS is aggressive.”
“billy badass over there.” changbin murmured, crossing his huge arms.
minho didn’t hesitate to turn towards changbin and shove him. changbin shoved back automatically.
“don’t start.” chan warned.
too late. seungmin grabbed minho’s shoulder and pulled him back. minho shook him off. jeongin stepped between them, not to help, just to watch. “god, you’re all so emotional.” he muttered.
seungmin started toward the door again, fury radiating off him. “i’m going after her.”
now, chan didn’t just stop him but actually pushed him away by the chest. a confident, violent push. manly. frustrated. “no.”
seungmin rounded on him. “she’s RIGHT THERE.”
han raised his hand again. “i still think she likes me.”
everyone yelled at once: “SHUT UP.” “READ THE ROOM.” “YOU WERE AFRAID OF THE DARK.” “SHE HIT YOU WITH A BAT.” “YOU LEFT THE DOOR.”
“we were investigating a threat!” felix said defensively to the last one.
“you are the threat, you idiot!” seungmin barked, then grabbed the front of his own shirt and screamed into it.
minho kicked the wall.
chan exhaled through his nose, centering himself. “no chasing into the dark.” he said. “not like this.”
“she’s getting farther.” jeongin argued.
seungmin made a noise like something dying. chan folded his arms. thinking. hyunjin stared into the night air like he could still see the path you took.
behind them, han whispered to felix: “when we catch her, i’m gonna ask if she thinks my eyes are pretty.”
felix nodded seriously. “they are.”
eight dangerous men. outplayed. and every single one of them wanted you back.
so yeah. that’s what happened, like… two weeks ago now? yeah. about two weeks. now you’re living your life. you hadn’t told anyone. what would you even say? you decided to just leave it. process it. give yourself time to get over it.
now you are standing in line for coffee. life’s been fine since that after all, you deserve it. you slept. eventually. not well, but enough. you changed routines. new routes, new locks, pepper spray, therapy waitlist, the works. you tell yourself you’re fine.
your name gets called.
“hey.”
your stomach drops before your brain catches up. you don’t turn around. because you know that voice. so you grab your coffee and walk. behind you, footsteps.
“okay, so don’t freak out.” jeongin says.
you keep walking.
“that’s actually a terrible opener, sorry, ignore that.”
you cross the street. he crosses too. you don’t look at him. you don’t run. at least you try.
“you look good.” he adds.
“go away.” you say calmly.
“working on it.” he says, which is not how that phrase works.
you turn a corner toward a busier street. people. noise. couples. kids.
“no.” you say.
“i just want to talk.”
“no.”
“did you get a haircut?” he tries.
you stop dead and turn. “how long have you been following me?”
“today? or—”
“jeongin.”
he winces. “okay. today today? like twenty minutes. but not in a creepy way. i was building courage.”
you resume walking faster.
he matches it, breath puffing a little. “listen, i know we didn’t end on a great note.”
“you chased me with an axe.” you cross the street without looking. a car honks. jeongin grabs your sleeve and yanks you back just enough to keep you from getting hit.
you stare at him.
“i didn’t come to hurt you.” he says. “if that helps.”
you keep walking. he groans softly and follows. people passing by just see two hot twenty somethings having what looks like a mildly tense situationship talk. it’s kinda crazy that they have no idea what happened two weeks ago.
you walk faster. he matches it.
“you dropped something.” he blurts. when you give no reaction, he tugs at your sleeve. “really.” he says, pointing behind you.
“that only worked once.” you say, yanking your hand out his grip.
“yeah.” he sighs. “worth a shot.”
a florist stand is set up on the corner. without stopping, jeongin leans sideways, grabs a small bouquet, tosses a crumpled bill onto the table, and keeps moving. he shoves the flowers toward you.
you stare at them. then at him. you don’t take them. but you stop walking and finally look at him.
he looks… normal. hoodie. messy hair. no axe. no grin that clearly tells he’s in animal mode. just this pretty guy.
people move around you, annoyed at the sidewalk blockage.
“you have five seconds.” you say.
he nods, serious now. “okay. we’re not going to hurt you.”
you stare. you start walking again.
he follows. “the boys haven’t shut up about you.”
“that’s not flattering.”
“it kind of is.”
“i don’t know what you want. i’m not coming back.” you say.
“i know.”
“you can’t follow me.”
“already am.”
you reached your apartment building. this is bad. this is very bad. you stop again, turning to face him fully now. his eyes shine.
“we don’t want to kill you.” he says quietly.
you search for anything that could say he’s lying. you can’t find it.
“that doesn’t make you better.” you say.
“i know.”
“you’re still—”
“yeah.”
“…if you come near my place again, i call the cops.”
he nods immediately.
“if i see any of you, i run.”
“mhm.” he holds the flowers out again, then seems to think better of it and just sets them on the sidewalk between you. “i just needed you to see that i’m not… only that.”
“…you are that.” you say. you’re not even being mean, just honest. brutally honest.
“yeah.” he says.
you go inside without looking back. not caring about where will he go, when will he go, why will he go.
the next day, you change your route. different coffee shop. different street. hoodie up, headphones on, just really fucking trying to stay away from them in general. you’re in that coffee shop now. then you step out of the café with your drink, and nearly walk straight into a guy. you flinch back hard.
“whoa—sorry—sorry.” a voice says quickly.
you look up. it takes your brain a second. glasses. plain black frames. simple gray t-shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide the fact that this man is fucking fit.
changbin.
he gives you a small, awkward wave like you ran into each other and not like he… he found you. “hi.”
you just stare.
“i come in peace.” he adds, lifting both hands.
you close your eyes. “you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“okay. before you walk away—i deserve that—but just—hi.”
you glance around. public. morning rush. safe enough. “why are you here.”
he adjusts his glasses. “i just wanted to talk. like, normal talk. not chase talk.”
you sigh, and start walking. “you have two minutes before i start screaming.” that’s more time you’ve given jeongin, though.
he falls into step beside you immediately. “you could’ve called the cops.” he says after a moment. genuinely confused. “you still could.”
you look at him. “you don’t think i’ve thought about that?”
“i figured. but you didn’t.”
you sip your coffee, buying time. “you’d disappear before anyone got there.”
“…yeah.” he admits.
“and then what? i spend the rest of my life wondering if you’re gonna show up mad?”
he nods slowly. he can’t argue that.
“also, i don’t want to tell that story out loud. figured it would be the best for me if i just lived through it and got over it. eventually.” you add, quieter.
changbin nods “okay. yeah. that makes sense.”
you study him. he looks the same as in the house, almost friendly. that makes a question pop up in your head. “have you done that before?” you ask. “like. killing people.”
“yeah.”
“how many?”
he blows out a breath through his teeth. “i don’t keep a number.”
“and why?”
he takes a breath, thinking. actually thinking. “it’s not the killing part.” he says slowly. “not for me. that’s just… the end of it. it’s the before. i dunno. i like the teamwork. but that’s just me, ask the others if you want their version.”
you’re confused. “…did something happen in your past?”
he shrugs. “no. grew up rich. had friends. i have a great job. my mom calls me on sundays.”
you stare at him.
“i’m serious.” he says. “i’m just… like this.”
you hate how calmly he says it. “when did you start?”
“early twenties.”
“why didn’t you stop?”
he gives you a small, almost embarrassed smile. “i’m good at it.”
you don’t answer. a car horn blares down the street. someone laughs nearby. the world keeps going, oblivious. “you scared me.” you say.
“i know.”
“you still are.”
“i know.”
you swallow. you check the time on your phone. “i told jeongin i’d scream if any of you came close to me ever again.”
“i heard.”
“you got lucky.”
“i’m glad.”
a bit of silence.
you meet his eyes. “i don’t trust you.”
“you shouldn’t.”
“but you still came now. why? why can’t you leave me alone?”
he shrugs, small and helpless. “i liked talking to you in the kitchen. before we… started.”
ow. sounds bad. so bad that you take a step back. away from him. you’re scared.
“i don’t feel things the way other people do.” he says finally. he wanted to spit that out for a while now, he just couldn’t scrape the courage together. “it’s like everything’s gray unless it’s intense.”
you sigh. “…at least you’re honest.”
he nods. “i just… i wanted one interaction with you that wasn’t you running.”
you watch him. he’s still scary. “you got it.” you say. “now what.”
he shrugs. “now i go away.”
you study him. glasses slightly crooked. trying very hard not to look threatening. failing, because he looks like he could lift a car.
you almost smile. almost. “don’t follow me.” you say.
“i won’t.”
“tell the others.”
“i will.”
you start to walk off.
“hey.” he calls.
you turn, tired.
“you were really impressive.” he says. sincere. really.
you hold his gaze. “i know.”
then you leave him standing on the sidewalk, alone. alone with his horrible, evil soul. alone with this weird dumb crush he recently developed on you. alone with his biceps, flexing because he feels a lot and it just… happens when he feels a lot.
it’s the next day. normal day. sun’s out. people walking dogs. a delivery truck is parked. blablabla anything that says world goes on. you were paranoid this day, sure, but you survived so far. you’re currently locking your apartment building door after yourself so you could go grocery shopping when a voice behind you says:
“okay, don’t be mad.”
you close your eyes. slow inhale. you turn.
it’s felix. and this guy literally tried to shoot you once, you remember clearly, but he looks… perfect. perfect hair. expensive jacket. shoes that cost more than your phone. holding… a container?
you stare.
he smiles, so sweet. “i made you muffins.”
“…you what.”
“blueberry.” he says proudly.
you look at the container, suspicious. “i’m not eating that.”
he frowns a little. “that hurt my feelings.”
“you tried to kill me.”
“sorry.”
you rub your face. “why are you here.”
he shifts his weight. he’s nervous. it’s cute tho. “we voted.” he says.
“you VOTED.”
“yeah.”
“ON WHAT.”
“on not killing you.”
you just stare at him.
he brightens. “it was almost unanimous.”
“WHO voted no?”
“…minho.”
yoy try to step around him toward the street. he mirrors you accidentally.
“felix.”
he freezes. “yeah?”
“move.”
“oh. right. sorry.” he sidesteps so fast he almost falls off the curb.
“you cannot come here.” you say. calm. really hoping he’ll understand. “you cannot follow me. you cannot bake for me. do you understand how insane this is?”
he nods immediately. “yes.”
“then why are you here.”
he looks at the muffins. then at you. “okay. so. we— i— baked.” yes baby, we know. you told us already.
“i see that.”
“for you.”
“i gathered.”
he nods, satisfied that the point has been made.
you start walking. he starts walking. directly into a street sign. it’s loud.
he recoils. “ow.”
you pinch the bridge of your nose.
“is it bleeding?” he asks, pointing at his face, but he immediately goes cross eyed as you push his face away instead. his skin is warm. feels nice tbh. he blinks at you, unbothered. “you have strong hands.”
“go away.”
“okay.” he says.
he does not go away.
you reach the crosswalk and the light changes. felix steps forward without looking. a car honks.
you grab his hand and yank him back.
he stumbles into you.
“jesus.” you mutter, still holding his hand as you cross. “you’d be roadkill in five minutes.”
he looks down at your joined hands, his big eyes shining, absolutely taken aback by the fact that you would do this for him. well, all that until you drop his hand on the other side of the street.
“thanks.” he says cheerfully.
a man wearing a watch worth a month’s rent, carrying something he made for you that you won’t eat, who could absolutely overpower you, and instead just almost died to a car.
“don’t follow me.” you say.
“okay.” he says, still following.
you glance at him. “you’re unbelievably stupid.”
“thank you.” he says.
“that wasn’t—”
“i’ve been working on self-acceptance.”
pffft.
you stop. “felix, listen. i don’t want you guys here.”
he looks at you, tilting his pretty head in confusion.
“you scare me.” you clarify.
“oh.” he says quietly. that, he understood.
you point at the muffins. “those could be drugged.”
“they’re not!”
“i don’t know that.”
silence hangs between you. street noise fills it. someone laughs across the road. life just keeps going.
“i liked talking to you.” he says finally.
“you didn’t talk to me.” you reply. “you hunted me.”
“yeah. i’m sorry.”
you watch him. disappointed that something this beautiful can be this cruel. “you need to leave.”
he nods. but he doesn’t move yet. “do you…” he starts, then stops. tries again. “do you hate us?”
you don’t hesitate. “yes?” of fucking course bro???
his little brain absorbs that. shoulders drop a little. “okay.”
he holds out the muffins one last time, hopeful in the dumbest way possible.
you just look at him.
he lowers them.
“just go, felix. bye.”
“yeah. bye.”
he turns the wrong direction.
you grab his hood and spin him around. “that way.”
“right.” he says, walking off.
he makes it three steps. turns back. holds up the muffin container. “do you want—”
“no.”
“okay.”
he walks into a bike rack.
you watch him go. he looks beautiful.
you hate him.
you check to make sure he crosses the next street safely before you turn away.
that passed too. a few days later you are leaving a pharmacy in the afternoon, receipt crumpled in your fist, focusing on your surroundings now.
and across the street, leaning against a lamppost, is chan. he raised a hand, giving you a little wave, mouthing: you good?
you mouth back go away.
he nods once, then pushes off the pole and walks in the opposite direction. not chasing now. actually walking away.
then you’re in a grocery store, looking at pastas, deciding which one you want to eat tonight. a hand reaches past you and places the more expensive one in your cart.
you turn. it’s seungmin. black hoodie. baseball cap.
you immediately pull it back out. “no.”
he takes it. puts it back into the cart.
“no.”
back in.
“stop.”
it went on for a good five minutes.
at checkout, you unload your stuff, and when you’re about to pay, seungmin comes up behind you and wordlessly uses his card. do you process that in the head? no, only when he is already at the exit, hands in his pockets, not looking back.
he walks straight into the automatic door before it finishes opening. you hear the thud.
you rub your temples.
then you’re walking through the park because that’s the shorter way home. peaceful. sunlight. children playing. then the bush next to the sidewalk starts shaking.
you stop. you kick the bush. han tumbles out directly at your feet. face in dirt.
“…hi.” he says into the grass.
you look down at him. “were you hiding?”
he looks up at you, leaves in his hair, expression hopeful. “no.”
you start walking again. he scrambles up and follows, then trips on the sidewalk edge.
you catch his sleeve before he eats pavement. “use your brain.”
he nods seriously. “i keep meaning to.”
next time about days later, you see felix before he sees you. he’s staring into a store window, clearly confused by mannequins.
you walk past.
noticing that, he turns and his pretty little face lights up. “hi!”
“hi. don’t.”
“okay.”
he walks into a mailbox.
you only see hyunjin once, at a distance. not close enough to speak. just standing outside a train station, hands in his coat pockets, watching the crowd, not just you.
when your eyes meet, he doesn’t smile, just gives a small nod. then he leaves.
days after that it’s seungmin again. at night. parking lot. you only came with car because it was too far. you’re unlocking your car and a shadow leans against the hood.
“you’ve been avoiding me.” seungmin says, casual as hell, like he didn’t once swing a fire poker at your skull. “man.” he continues “small world, right?”
you turn, pepper spray in hand, and spray it directly into his eyes.
he screams, drops to his knees, clawing at his face. “OH MY GOD IT’S LIKE SATAN PISSED IN MY EYES—”
“stop finding me!” you yell.
he’s laughing through the pain. laughing. “you look good today.”
you drive off while he’s still swearing.
the next time minho follows you through a bookstore. keeps pretending to browse. picks up a book upside down. so you turn a corner and wait. he walks right into it. he also gets a taste of your pepper spray.
“SON OF A BITCH.” he chokes, doubling over between romance and self help. “you fucking—”
“YOU’RE STALKING ME.”
they find you in different places. weeks apart. or days apart. but they always come back.
something is clearly wrong with them. like, all eight are sick in the head. but it doesn’t seem like they’re following you around to kill you. they talk too long. they get distracted. they bring you things. they absolutely eat shit every time you fight back. and you do fight back. diva.
minho and seungmin have been pepper sprayed so many times they flinch when you reach into your bag. jeongin tries every possible pickup line on you. han once tried to sneak up on you and got hit in the face with your tote bag and apologized.
it’s ike they’re still in hunting mode. after you. into you. but now they’re… unsure. they don’t seem to want you dead anymore. they just… want you around now. or to just be around you, at least.
it’s the middle of the night right now. you’re in old sweatpants, hair a mess, waiting for the food you ordered. and soon enough, the doorbell rings. you shuffle over and look through the peephole for a second. delivery uniform. cap. bag. seems normal. so you open the door.
it’s felix. smiling ear to ear, holding your takeout, wearing the uniform jacket and cap. “hi!”
“absolutely not.” you say, already closing the door.
he sticks his foot in. “wait, wait—don’t slam it, the soup’ll spill—”
that’s when you see it, behind him, in the hallway. a man on the floor. the delivery uniform pants still on him, only his jacket gone, the one on felix right now. there’s blood under the man.
your stomach drops. your organs drop. after staring for about a minute, you slowly look back at felix. “…is that—”
“okay.” he says quickly. “before you freak out—”
“BEFORE I FREAK OUT?? YOU KILLED THE DELIVERY GUY?!”
jeongin leans into view, coming next to felix, hands in pockets. “it wasn’t him who killed the guy.”
you point wildly, not even concerned about the fact that there’s two of them now. “THAT IS A PERSON ON THE FLOOR.”
“yeah but like…” minho says, stepping into the doorframe, arm around felix’s shoulders now. “he’s not using the uniform anymore.”
your mouth opens. nothing comes out.
and then, without a word, chan walks past you. into your home. into your fucking home. felix shrugs and follows him. the other six too, actually taking their shoes off.
YOU ARE STILL HOLDING THE DOOR. THEY JUST WALK AROUND YOU.
“what—no—no—no—” you manage, backing up as they enter.
han closes the door gently behind them. “heat’s nice in here.” he says.
hyunjin looks at you and mutters a quiet but confident “hi” before going further into your living room.
changbin walks past you and spins slowly, taking in the room. “oh this is cute. this is very you.”
“YOU BROUGHT A CORPSE TO MY DOOR.” you choke.
felix is still holding the food bag. “your noodles are getting cold.” he says softly.
you make a noise that doesn’t exist in human language. (imagine something close to a windows crash sound)
seungmin tosses his jacket over a chair. there’s a smear of blood on his sleeve.
you gag.
he notices. “oh, relax. it’s mostly the delivery guy’s.”
“OH MY GOD.”
“hey, where’s the hand soap?” han asks, already at your kitchen sink, washing blood off his fingers.
you stare at the red swirling down your drain.
jeongin flops onto your couch. “i like what you did with the lighting in here. mood.”
“GET OUT.” you say, voice coming back in bursts. “GET—OUT—OF—MY—APARTMENT.”
they all look at you. it’s obvious that they don’t really understand what’s your problem.
chan gestures toward the takeout bag. “eat first.”
“I DON’T WANT THE FOOD.”
felix looks devastated. “you picked the combo meal…”
changbin is by your bookshelf now. “you alphabetized? that’s hot.”
“a— i— eugh— what is HAPPENING.”
minho leans against the wall. “okay, in our defense—”
“there is NO DEFENSE.”
“—we didn’t come to kill you.”
“YOU’RE TRACKING BLOOD ON MY FLOOR.”
they all look down.
han lifts his foot. “…shit.”
jeongin points at him. “mop boy.”
han salutes and grabs paper towels.
“listen.” chan says, turning to be in front of you. “we just wanted to see you.”
you stare at him. then at the door. “…you couldn’t text?” you ask hoarsely.
eight grown ass serial killer men exchange glances.
jeongin shrugs. “didn’t have your number.” that’s alright sweetie, not like you can’t find a phone number when you can find an address perfectly. not like you can’t ask for it from HYUNJIN.
you make another sound.
changbin steps closer, hands up, gentle. “okay, hey. we know this looks bad.”
“LOOKS—”
“bad phrasing.” he admits.
seungmin rubs the back of his neck. “we didn’t plan the delivery guy part.”
“that’s WORSE.” you sag against the wall. “you have got to be shitting me.” you whisper to yourself. then you look at them. all of them. in your apartment. on your couch. at your sink. in your life. “out.”
they don’t move.
jeongin tilts his head. “we just got here—”
“OUT.”
changbin actually flinches.
seungmin raises his hands. “okay, volume—”
“you killed someone. again, i assume. and brought it to my DOOR. do you understand how fucking insane that is?”
silence.
“i can’t sleep normally. i check reflections everywhere. i don’t walk with headphones anymore. do you get that? do you get what you did to my brain? i couldn’t function for weeks. every sound was footsteps. every guy walking behind me was one of you. i have three different hiding spots in my own apartment.”
han raises a hand slightly. “this one’s not great.”
“NO IT IS NOT GREAT.”
felix looks genuinely confused. “we didn’t think about… after.”
“YEAH. THAT’S THE PROBLEM. you don’t think about after. you don’t think about people being PEOPLE. you think about adrenaline and teamwork and your little murder club hangouts.”
changbin crosses his arms. “okay when you say it like that—”
“how else is there to say it??” you gesture wildly at the room.
they don’t look guilty. they look… attentive. they’re paying attention. trying to understand you.
you swallow. “no, seriously. i want to know. when you followed me for weeks? when you showed up at my job? when i thought every man walking behind me was about to grab me? that was fun for you?”
seungmin shrugs. “engaging.”
you grab the nearest thing, a throw pillow, and launch it at his face. then relax your shoulders and sigh. “i am a person. with a nervous system. i had a normal life before you guys.”
there’s a long pause.
felix raises a hand slightly. “your food is still warm.”
“READ THE ROOM.”
he lowers it.
han whispers to him: “she’s upset-upset.”
“no shit.” you snap.
chan has his hands on his hips. “you’re saying we made you paranoid and ruined your life.”
you stare. “…are you fucking for real right now.”
“trying to understand the damage.”
“DAMAGE???”
jeongin leans forward on the couch, elbows on knees. “we don’t feel fear like that, or guilt the way you do.”
“yeah, i noticed.”
“but we’re not dumb.” hyunjin says quietly.
your eyes flick to him.
he meets them. calm. honest in a deeply unsettling way. “we know we changed your life. we can see the behavioral shifts. we know what we did. we just don’t care.“
you blink. does this fucking asshole hear himself.
he continues. “and what you’re saying is that our continued presence equals harm.”
you blink “yes.”
“even without immediate violence.”
“YES.”
he nods once. processing. filing it somewhere in his terrifyingly organized brain.
chan takes over. “we’re saying, we understand the outcome. even if we don’t experience the emotion attached.”
changbin rubs his neck. “we didn’t think about the after. usually there isn’t one.”
you let that sit. “yeah.” you say. “because people die.”
quiet.
han finally says, softly: “you didn’t.”
you look at him. “no. i didn’t. and now i have to live with what you did.”
there’s a long silence.
then jeongin claps his hands once. “so. solution. anyone? ideas?”
you point at him without looking. “you are on thin fucking ice.”
he mimes zipping his mouth.
seungmin rubs his face. “okay, but question.”
you glare.
“when we stopped trying to actually kill you… that didn’t help?”
you just stare at him. “…you hear yourself, right?”
he thinks about it. “…yeah.”
felix looks like he’s actually using his brain for once. “we thought… not finishing the job was growth.”
“that is the lowest bar i have ever heard in my LIFE.”
but you see, the thing is, this is a system error for them. you’re not prey right now. you’re not running. you’re furious, first of all. human. loud. hurt. they don’t know this game. they only know the killing and manipulating one, but they want to have you. they just… don’t know how to get you.
chan clears his throat. “so the correct action would be… removal of our presence.”
“yes.”
“immediately.”
“so fucking immediately.”
“we don’t want to kill you.” minho cuts in, hoping that this saves their situation a bit.
“yeah, you told me a hundred times already. your point?” you ask
“we like you.”
you make a face like you bit into soap. “that is not how liking works.”
“for you.” he agrees.
chan exhales. decisive. “we adjust behavior.”
you cross your arms. “into WHAT?”
silence.
felix brightens. “dinner?”
you stare at him.
han nods eagerly.
you look around the room at eight serial killers in your living space, one of them holding a roll of paper towels covered in someone else’s blood. “…dinner.”
changbin shrugs. “low pressure environment. public. you feel safer. we practice acting normal.”
minho adds: “exposure therapy. for all parties.”
“i just gave a speech about how you ruined my sense of safety.” you whisper, voice defeated.
hyunjin nods. “we heard you.”
“and you want to take me to DINNER.”
“yes.”
“why.”
he doesn’t hesitate. “because harming you is now counterproductive to the thing we want.”
you are actually taken aback by the words this guy uses. “…which is?”
he holds your gaze.
“you.”
the room goes quiet.
then han whispers to felix, way too loud: “is this flirting?”
“yeah.” felix whispers back. “i think this is the good kind.”
you drag a hand down your face. “…get the fuck out of my apartment.”
they stand, immediately obedient. getting their shoes on and whatnot.
changbin gives you a small wave. “we’ll text?”
“you do not have my number.”
jeongin points at hyunjin. “he’ll give it to us.”
“I WILL CALL THE POLICE.”
they walk out.
han pauses at the door. “sorry about the sink.”
door closes. silence. your apartment is a disaster. your life is worse.
but… they looked weirdly sincere, actually. and they were.
soon, they stopped showing up unannounced. mostly. they also stopped bringing weapons into your line of sight. mostly. and they stopped treating you like prey. completely.
how were they about you, comes the question.
obsessed.
and they did not process attachment normally. if they processed it. they did not understand love. but they understood preference, and if you told them enough times, then eventually they understood your emotions too. well, not understood, but they processed the fact that you feel the way you feel and they can do something about it if they actually try.
han once fell down an entire staircase because someone said your name and he turned too fast. chan pretended he wasn’t competitive about board games and then absolutely lost his mind over monopoly. hyunjin brought you flowers all the time. you learned that seungmin always had to sleep on his stomach.
you started to understand the function of them. not excuse, no. absolutely not. just understand and process the fact that they’re how they are. and you couldn’t do shit about it, and you couldn’t get rid of them now. so you lived with it.
they still killed, of course. that was one of the few things that brought them happiness in life, so you couldn’t expect them to stop doing it. they didn’t kill around you, though.
but you knew they still did it. and you could feel when the tension built when they haven’t hurt anybody in a long time.
it also… what’s the right word, scared? impressed? took you aback? could be either, what matters is that when you saw that all of them had it in them, even han and felix who behaved like total angels throughout the day, it… upset you. or just moved something in you, seeing that each of them has that empty place where fear or guilt or empathy should go.
they didn’t kill out of anger. it was release. their brains were wired wrong. thrill, control, mastery, stimulation, those hit the reward centers. violence scratched an itch they couldn’t reach any other way.
and after, they were calmer. lighter, like they’d gone for a run. when they were satisfied with themselves, they tried to tell you about it. you always stopped them, because you did NOT need to hear the horrible things they did. no matter how much they wanted to brag about it, how much they wanted to make you proud.
you weren’t safe in the world, but you were weirdly safe with them. and they would have died for you.
but you had to set rules. actual rules. “do not follow me into bathrooms.” “do not threaten my coworkers.” “do not kill anyone within a five-mile emotional radius of me.” the basics. and they tried. god, they tried. but they didn’t really… do well.
once you opened your door to seungmin at one in the morning, and he stood there, breathing a little heavy, COVERED in blood.
you just stared.
he stared back.
“…you good?” he asked.
“are you good??”
“oh. yeah. not mine.”
you almost slammed the door. he stopped it with a hand, but gently. always that now.
“didn’t come here for that.” he said.
“for what, seungmin, WHAT possible reason makes this a normal social call.”
he shrugged. “adrenaline crash. didn’t wanna be alone.”
that did something weird to your chest. not forgiving, just… information. because you realized that now they wanted you. your company, your voice, your hands. and it felt good.
anyways, you told him to take a shower, then you let him hang out with you.
they also fought each other more than they ever fought you.
once minho and jeongin, two extremely capable men mind you, actually went for each other’s throats in your kitchen while hyunjin and chan tried to separate them.
you yelled at them then. they paused and looked at you.
jeongin, bleeding from the lip, grinned. but like in that hot way. “sorry.”
“take it outside if you’re gonna be like this.” you told them.
“fair.” chan said, dragging minho back by the collar.
you weren’t scared of them like prey anymore. you were scared of the capacity. the strength. the speed. the way the air changed when something in them flipped.
you’d seen what they could do, you just weren’t the target now.
they were on your dick constantly, though. emotionally. socially. existentially. texting wasn’t their thing, but presence was. which meant they showed up unannounced a lot. but the reason for that was that they didn’t want to lose access to you, to be honest. didn’t like the thought of that.
one night you opened the door to changbin. he told you he was going to come over later. well, it was late. around midnight.
when he saw you, his eyes lit up, and wrapped you in the warmest, most affectionate, full-body hug of your life.
you froze.
because he was sticky.
wet sleeve. iron smell. your cheek against his skin. your hands touching the back of his shirt.
he squeezed tighter, cheek against your hair. “missed you.”
you pulled back.
looked down.
this boy was covered in blood.
he smiled, soft, relieved. “hi.”
you shoved back, stumbling, hand over your mouth, already shaking your head like that would stop it. you barely made it to the sink before you threw up in it.
from the hallway, jeongin yelled: “did you forget again??”
“I GOT EXCITED.”
hyunjin was the only one who followed you then, already grabbing a towel, turning on the sink. he didn’t look at changbin, and he didn’t look at the blood. he looked at you. “i’ve got you. you’re okay. breathe.”
they kept forgetting what you were. alive. normal. human. that for you it was a body, a person, a life.
it wasn’t the only time, of fucking course. they’d be loose, relaxed, calm. you’d be staring at hands that had done something irreversible two hours ago. there were a few nights like that, a sleeve not changed, a stain not noticed, you throwing up in your own kitchen while eight men who could disassemble a human being panicked because they’d upset you.
not because they felt guilt like you did. because they’d hurt something important in the environment. you. you, who sometimes made it to the sink, sometimes didn’t.
they did learn, though. slowly. painfully. they didn’t feel what you felt, but they learned it mattered. which, for them, was the closest thing to empathy available in the system.
you fell asleep on the couch once while they were over. you didn’t mean to. how could you mean to, when you knew what they were capable of?
and you woke up pinned. well, luckily not trapped, just surrounded. han was hugging your ankle. felix was using your shoulder as a pillow. changbin had an arm across your middle. jeongin was half off the couch but anyways. seungmin pretended he wasn’t involved but his foot was hooked under your leg.
they didn’t experience comfort like most people did. but proximity? pressure? familiar scent? that, they liked.
they were really, really glad that you survived them. and because of that, somewhere in their broken little predator brains, you became home. and what do predators do? bring things home.
once han showed up beaming, holding something behind his back.
“i got you flowers.” he said.
you blinked. that was… new.
he revealed it.
you stared.
it was technically arranged like a bouquet. the only problem was that… they were human lower arms. a lot of them. like flowers. just… arms.
you made a noise. you looked away, then back at it, then had to look away again.
“i thought it was romantic.” he said, crushed.
“honey, i appreciate that, but—“ you gagged. held the doorframe. teared up.
he watched you throw up then. patted your back after.
felix once brought you a wallet because “you’re always losing yours.”
you opened it. immediately closed it. “felix.”
“yeah?”
“return that.”
chan was… fucking brutal. he didn’t bring objects. he brought information.
“found a guy who’d been stalking women in your area.” he said once.
you went cold. “…what did you do.”
he met your eyes calmly. “took care of him, of course.”
you didn’t know whether to scream or say thank you. this one wasn’t bad, actually. you just had to sit down for a minute.
they were not house trained though, not even a little. one time you caught seungmin about to piss in your giant houseplant.
“seungmin.” you sighed.
he froze mid-zip. “…yeah?”
“if you water that plant with your BODY i will end you.”
“okay, okay.” he said, offended. “god. boundaries.”
felix once wiped his hands on your curtains. han sat on your coffee table. minho had to be told three separate times that knives did not belong “wherever feels right.” changbin once tried to “air out” your apartment by opening every window during winter.
and jeongin was just really spontaneous in general. if a guy talked to you, he would insert himself into the conversation, no matter what. “bro.” he’d say, arm slung over the stranger’s shoulders. “i love your confidence. truly. quick question, how attached are you to having kneecaps?”
you hit him. he’d grin. the stranger would evaporate.
hyunjin was the only one who got you normal gifts. they were… brutally expensive, yeah, and you had no idea where he had that kind of money from, but you appreciated every gift from him.
and oh my fucking god, the mailman. felix hated the mailman. for no reason. the man was fifty something and friendly. still, every time the mail arrived, felix would appear at your window, talking bout sum “he’s back.” ???
“felix, that’s his job.”
“yeah but why is he always here?”
“because i live here. that’s how mail works.”
the suspicion remained.
but beneath all the insanity, the red flags, the daily reminder that they could bring a corpse to your doorstep any day, they were sincere. they never played with your feelings. never lied about what they were. never pretended.
they just… adjusted their behavior around one central rule, which was not to lose you. to keep you safe, even if they didn’t understand why they wanted to keep you so safe. or why did you find so many things they did wrong.
you had, at one point, physically grabbed felix by the hair and yanked him backward because he was halfway out your front door, whispering “i just wanna talk to him.” about the mailman.
“NO.” you barked, fist in his hair.
“he’s BEEN HERE THREE TIMES THIS WEEK.” felix insisted.
“THAT IS HOW MAIL WORKS.”
he did not agree with you.
changbin loved cheek kisses. loved them. unfortunately, changbin also had a chronic issue where he just… forgot he was holding things. knife. wrench. crowbar. gun.
you’d feel a gentle kiss on your cheek and open your eyes to see cold steel six inches from your face.
“baby.” you’d say.
“oh, shit.” weapon would go on the table like car keys. “sorry.” he’d say, and kiss your other cheek, now technically unarmed.
then once you mentioned to hyunjin that you were cold and he wordlessly took off his jacket. it had a suspicious stain. he saw you notice.
“…i’ll get another one.” he said immediately.
because he really didn’t want you to be cold. not like he understood what your problem was with a little blood, but alright. anything for you.
now that i’m getting carried away with the stories, i’ll tell you that han did not understand personal space.
for an example, if you scolded him? immediate cling. you’d finish saying “you cannot threaten the barista for writing my name wrong” and suddenly he’d be attached to your side, rubbing his face into you, arms around your shoulders, chin on your head.
“okay, but we’re good though, right?”
“sweetie, i’m trying to pay.”
he’d nod against your hair, not moving. that went on for twelve minutes until a woman asked if he was concussed.
they clung like that a lot, they didn’t understand a lot, they acted up a lot, they hated a lot, but they loved one thing.
you.
they didn’t understand jealousy as an emotion. they understood it as something wrong with their insticts, and you in danger. how did that make sense? it didn’t. it just sounded horrible. because it was. but it was also the most sincere attachment they were capable of.
you were still scared sometimes. still human. still deeply aware of what they were, and reminded of it a lot of times, of course.
but they’d learned one thing with absolute certainty:
you were not prey.
you were home.
and they were trying, badly, incorrectly, concerningly, to deserve to be there.
⟢ ┆ lee minho x reader. fluff. slight angst. exes to lovers.
⟢ author’s note: hello, everyone! i’m back with this small story. i don’t really have much to say other than i’m a sucker for cat dad lino. also the cat whose pictures i used is @/nala_cat on instagram. i hope you guys enjoy! if you do, please don’t forget to let me know<3
⟢ ┆ lee minho x reader. fluff. slight angst. exes to lovers.
⟢ author’s note: hello, everyone! i’m back with this small story. i don’t really have much to say other than i’m a sucker for cat dad lino. also the cat whose pictures i used is @/nala_cat on instagram. i hope you guys enjoy! if you do, please don’t forget to let me know<3
pairing: jeongin x f!reader
contains: fluff, light angst, suggestive comments – really, two people as hopeless at communicating as you and jeongin probably shouldn’t date anyway, for the sake of everyone else’s sanity. or: five times skz pushes you to tell jeongin how you feel, and the one time you give up. 5k words.
☆ note: finished an old wip!! everyone cheer!! <3
my masterlist
“I’m gonna get jealous if you keep drooling over edits of Hyunjin.”
Shitfuckshit.
You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of Jeongin’s voice, entirely too close behind you to have just gotten there. Quickly, with shaking fingers, you close the godforsaken app and slam your phone face down on his mattress. Nailed it. Not suspicious at all.
In the following few seconds of pure silence, mortification festers and almost digs a hole straight through your stomach lining. Almost. There’s also a tiny glimmer of gratitude that he didn’t catch you watching one of his edits – or, worse yet, saving one to your Innie ❤️ collection.
It’s that glimmer of gratitude you resolve to cling to throughout his inevitable goading.
No wonder he came to check on you. It’s his room. You’ve been gone far too long to feasibly be “plugging your phone in.” In your defense, you did start charging your phone, but you also happened to get distracted.
He flops down on his stomach next to you with a force akin to a small earthquake. The mattress dips and jostles you closer until your arm is pressed against his, and you promptly disregard every thought you’ve ever had. Instead of scooting away, he drapes that arm around your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“I wasn’t drooling,” you mutter, then mentally kick yourself for it. You pray he can’t hear the blood rushing in your ears.
To anyone else, anyone who didn’t know the extent of your unrequited love, you two must look like a couple. Cuddled against each other, easy familiarity, so close it hurts in every way possible.
He’s mere inches away. If he wanted, he could lean in and easily close the gap between you.
Instead, he just laughs in your face, like the terrible friend he is. Trying to ignore your heart skipping a beat at the sound, you burrow closer into his embrace, reveling in as much of him as he’ll let you have.
His chest vibrates when he speaks again. “I had a good time last night.” He pairs his kind words with a rude poke to your side.
A good time is underestimating it, at least for you. Innie claimed that the rest of the guys were always hogging up your free time, and he missed his best friend. He booked a reservation at an Italian restaurant notoriously hard to get into – but he’s an idol, of course he has connections like that.
If this were a romance movie, one of you would have confessed. Preferably him, to spare you the embarrassment. But it’s not, and at the end of the night, he dropped you off at home with a beaming smile and the memory.
If this were a romance movie, now would also be a pretty good time for a confession.
You look up at him. He’s looking back at you.
The entire world shrinks to only him, and his eyes, staring into yours. “Yeah?” you ask, breathless.
He grins. “Yeah,” his voice is low. His eyes drop down to your lips, and suddenly his hand is cupping your chin, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.
Then, he clears his throat, the sound piercing. He shakes his head, as if to snap himself out of a thought, then whispers, “You had something.” He doesn’t remove his thumb.
As if on cue, Seungmin walks past his open doorway headed towards the kitchen. He peeks inside, and immediately freezes in his tracks while his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline at the scene before him.
Cuddled against each other. Easy familiarity. So close it hurts.
Before he says anything too incriminating – and thus ensuring his death by your hands – he’s interrupted by a wild-eyed Changbin barreling past him and into Jeongin’s room, yelling “Chan’s buying us food! Get up! Hurryhurryhurry!”
An outraged, “The fuck I am!” sounds from the living room.
At the restaurant, Jeongin steals a dumpling off Changbin’s plate rather unsuccessfully. The plop as it lands on the table alerts Changbin to the attempted thievery, and naturally, Jeongin winds up in a headlock as punishment. They go back and forth exclaiming, “Say you’re sorry!” and “I didn’t even do anything!” until Chan looks like he’s about to start sprouting grey hairs.
“He’s such an idiot,” Seungmin says beside you.
“I know,” you sigh. “I want his balls in my mouth.”
Seungmin freezes with a steamed bun inches away from his lips. “Please,” he deadpans. “Never speak to me again.”
Hyunjin proves himself nearly useless. However, he’s a lot better than your complete uselessness, so you find yourself taking his advice a few days later.
“What does painting my feelings even mean?” you ask. Hyunjin sits across from you, concentrating on his own canvas like he’s the one about to confess via acrylic paint. Maybe he is; he and Changbin have been acting particularly married lately. A variety of paint tubes sits on the table between you two. “What color are my feelings?”
Hyunjin snorts. “I don’t know, what color do you think pabo is?”
“Green?”
With a small grin, Hyunjin slides a pigment labelled Permanent Green closer to you, then subsequently dodges it when you hurl it back at him. Shame. He exclaims something about Changbin killing him if any more paint spills in their dorm, but you’re not listening, instead choosing to stare down at your canvas as if it will unveil its secrets if you simply look at it long enough.
Hyunjin had sworn on his life that painting your love and gifting it to Jeongin would work, and the boy would swoon in your arms upon receiving it. He claimed there was no possible way he could miss the hint of his obviously-in-love best friend creating art for him. It is romantic, if nothing else. The only problem is you have no idea where to start. Or end. Or anything in between. Both of you, apparently, drastically overestimated your love’s ability to be painted.
You stare longer, but the canvas unabashedly remains blank.
“What comes to mind when you first think about him? Any special memories between you, anything you like to do together?” he asks. “If you say something nasty I’m kicking you out.”
Jeongin brought you to a flower field a few weeks beforehand. He plucked a daisy, tucked it behind your ear, and smiled brighter than the sun. You want to keep being the reason he smiles like that. Back at home, you pressed the daisy as a keepsake.
It might not be the idyllic, romantic embodiment Hyunjin probably hoped for, but it’s a lovely memory regardless. A flower field is fairly easy to paint, right?
Hyunjin gives his stamp of approval to your idea, as well as a five-minute-straight monologue about how cute you and Jeongin are together, your nerves about your gift heightening with each “you’re made for each other!”
What if he doesn’t even like it? What if he doesn’t know the meaning behind it? What if he does know the meaning behind it?
As much as Hyunjin woes about his own love life, you feel justified wallowing in his presence a bit longer.
“Can we please not talk about this? I don’t really want to think about how he’ll probably reject it.”
Hyunjin drops it for all of two minutes – just enough time for you to barely dip your paintbrush into Radiant Blue and cover most of the canvas in broad, sweeping strokes.
“I think he loves you,” he says, without looking up from his own canvas.
The paintbrush slips out of your fingers. Blue paint splatters across your jeans, and stains the floor where the brush lands. Hyunjin sees it, purses his lips, but thankfully doesn’t say anything else about his own impending doom.
“He does not,” you assure him once you stop air from going down the wrong pipe.
Hyunjin rolls his eyes, somehow loudly. “Do you want a list of reasons why I know he is? For one, he wouldn’t shut up about those flowers you picked for him.” The same flowers you chose to paint. He tacks on, “It was gross.”
Your heart sinks at the implication you wish was true. “That was as friends,” you mutter, like a child who got told no. Hoping Hyunjin would take the hint, you pick up your paintbrush from the floor and continue swiping it across the canvas, trying to fix the parts that are streaky from the fall.
He either did not get the hint or is flat out ignoring it. “I don’t take just friends to pick flowers,” you bite back the urge to point out Jeongin only knew about it because Changbin took Hyunjin, “and spend the next three hours talking about how pretty she looked.”
“He did that?” Heat rises to your cheeks.
He nods. “He only stopped because Minho threatened to tape his mouth closed.”
The next hours are spent in relative silence as you two paint. As grateful as you are to avoid speaking about Jeongin, you’re unable to stop thinking about him – about if Hyunjin was exaggerating, about Jeongin’s reaction, about either possibility of him accepting or rejecting it.
A flower field is not fairly easy to paint, as evidenced by Hyunjin’s snorting laughter when you finally show him your canvas. It’s not winning any awards anytime soon, but you thought it was alright, at least.
“A child could have done a better job!” he exclaims. “An actual child!” He dodges yet another paint tube – when did he get so good at that? Through laughter, he says again, “It’s proof he loves you if he actually displays it anywhere.”
Unfortunately, Hyunjin made sure to be there while you gift it to Jeongin.
“I love it!” Jeongin looks like you awarded him the moon and stars, rather than – you’ll admit it now – a pretty terrible painting. “Thank you!”
And he walks away, admiring it.
Hyunjin will not let this go for a long time.
You’re staring at Jeongin making downright sinful noises doing pushups and debating when exactly in your life you lost your mind. You must have at some point, as only an insane person would agree to Chan asking you to accompany them to the gym.
Jeongin does another pushup, grunting, and all rational thoughts leave your brain.
Down. Up. Grunt.
Would he make the same sounds if–
“You know, they say those work better if you actually lift them,” Chan takes the bench next to you, carrying his own dumbbells orders of magnitude heavier than the ones laying abandoned by your feet.
“Hm?”
Jeongin finishes his set, and as if in slow motion, strips off his shirt. Sweat glistens on his chest, even in their gym’s terrible lighting. Good god. It would’ve been kinder if Chan punched you in the sternum and called it a day.
Chan’s laugh breaks through the Jeongin-brain fog clouding your mind. You wrench your eyes away from the, quite frankly, ludicrous display going on to glare at him.
“You’ve got a bit of drool on your chin there.” He seems more amused than he should.
“Why does everyone keep saying I drool? It’s gross and I don’t do it.”
“Yeah, it is gross, isn’t it?” Chan pauses to take in your expression, and lets out a deep sigh. “Look, you should just tell him, rip off the band-aid, you know? Have you tried anything like that?”
“I’ve tried, but I don’t know, something in me freezes up every time I try and I end up gaping at him like a fish.”
Even before this week, you’ve tried so often, but the words always die in your throat. It’s harder than it seems, confessing your undying love to your best friend.
Chan’s staring at you like you grew a second mouth, one that said something stupid.
“What?” you ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing, just remembering similar conversations.” He glances across the room, where Jeongin’s in position to start doing pushups again. God save everyone. “I think you should tell him though. Now.”
“Are you cra–”
“Now. Re-rack your weights first.” He lifts his dumbbells off the floor and turns his attention towards the wall-to-wall mirror, shutting you out of the conversation and leaving no room for debate.
Your heartbeat thunders in rhythm with your footsteps.
Jeongin drops down with a dramatic sigh — seriously, an all-out punch would’ve been kinder, Chan — once he sees you approach. Then, he rolls on his back on the probably grimy, definitely sweaty floor and exclaims “There you are!” with a huge smile.
“Help me up?” he holds his hands out in the air for you to take.
Of course you do.
Of course he doesn’t let go once he’s standing.
Once again, his intense gaze burns straight through you. You’re all but positive your confession is written on your forehead, with how intently he’s looking at you, as if nobody else exists.
You can’t tell him. Not here. Not in a gym. Not with Chan watching.
“Are you finally going to join me? I could use the motivation,” Jeongin winks, still holding your hands in his. Your heart drops to your stomach and your stomach jumps up to your throat.
He could get you to agree to anything, internal organs all out of balance as they are.
“Y-yeah. Sure.” Hopefully you could claim the sweat forming is from exercise.
His resulting smile could blind the dead. “Awesome! I’ll get set up!”
With that, he drops your hands and turns his back to stride towards a machine. Finally, you can breathe normally again. You trail after him, glancing back at Chan on the way. He looks like he expected absolutely nothing less out of that whole situation.
“I think that’s a biohazard,” Seungmin informs, taking a seat next to where your head so elegantly landed when you flopped face-down on their couch. “I mean, I’ve seen Felix stay in that exact spot for, like, two days straight. And he’s gross, so just imagine what’s still in the cushions.”
“Can’t move,” your reply is muffled. You’re not even lying this time – your bones are pudding only hours after working through Jeongin’s push day routine with him.
“Your funeral, I guess.”
The couch is unfairly comfortable, honestly, and you have half a mind to succumb to the sleep threatening to pull you under. But, you can tell Seungmin is enjoying the silence, which just won’t do. Not on your watch.
“You ever see Innie working out?” you ask, not bothering to move your face away from the couch in any way to help him understand you.
“All the time. Hey, can I borrow your phone? Mine’s dead.”
“It’s on the coffee table.” Truly, if you could move your arms at all, you would hand it over. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? He’s like a statue.”
Seungmin releases a sound like he’s dying around the sound of him typing. “Did you come here just so I could suffer with you?”
“And he has abs!”
Seungmin leans forward, then he gently sets your phone back down. “I will smother you until you stop talking,” he deadpans.
“I’ll cook dinner for you if I can keep going.”
“You were saying something about his abs?”
Fifteen minutes and twenty instances of Seungmin asking what you’re making later, you have enough feeling in your arms to begin dinner preparation.
Your phone pings with a new text once the chicken is almost finished cooking on the stovetop.
Innie: I would hope so :)
Opening your messaging app reveals the answer. The horrible, terrible, no-good answer.
You: I like you.
Innie: I would hope so :)
Seungmin. You’re going to kill him. The fanbase will understand. He’s had it coming for a while, anyway.
Seungmin’s food burns while you’re contemplating revenge.
He eats it without complaint.
On screen, Princess Peach cuts in front of Wario inches away from the finish line, and Minho damn near throws his controller at you. Before you can start the typical I’m-the-Best-Bow-at-My-Feet speech, Han steps outside of his room with a guilty expression rarely seen outside courtrooms.
“I talked to Innie,” he admits.
Ice forms in your stomach.
“That’s my cue,” Minho says, gets up, and retreats into his own room. Bastard.
Han sits beside you, hanging his head so he does not have to look you in the eye.
“Why,” you croak.
“I thought I was being helpful! I asked if he was interested in anyone, you know, to get the ball rolling!” At that, he looks up at you, eyes almost comically wide. “But he acted like I was dumb for even asking.”
“Why.”
Han steamrolls on with his explanation. “I mean, no offense or anything, but you are pretty obvious about it! I thought he knew already, honestly.”
The ice transforms into a category 5 winter storm. You had been trying not to think about that, but he’s right. Anyone with eyes can clearly see how you act around Jeongin. He must know. He’s being nice by not outright rejecting you.
Han only coos “I’m so sorry,” tone as gentle as the hand he places on your knee, in response to your considerations.
Together, you and Han formulate A Plan. It goes like this: Forget about Your Feelings for Innie. Not that you want to, but even you have limits on how far your delusions go.
It’s a great plan. It will work flawlessly.
The plan goes to shit the next day.
Felix invites everyone over for a movie night at Chan and Jeongin’s dorm – artfully avoiding Changbin’s question of whether or not he actually had permission to do so. Han assures you Jeongin already has plans, so you won’t have to worry about seeing him or speaking to him or being around him at all, really.
For some reason, Jeongin had hung up your painting in their living room, and it practically stares you down as you settle into your blankets across from it. Heaviness weighs on your body, but a night with your friends might be the distraction you need to forget about it for a while.
Unless those friends make you talk about it.
Halfway through the first movie, Minho, never one to beat around the bush, pauses it and says, “You look sad.” He’s met with noises of agreement from nearly everyone else.
“I just - I don’t know what to do about Innie,” you say, unwilling to look at anyone’s face for fear of seeing your own patheticness validated. You pick a spot on the carpet and focus all your attention into picking at the fraying fibers. “I think I have to give up on him.”
Admitting it is a weight off your shoulders and a boulder on your chest. You’ve already had this conversation with Han, but here, speaking it into a room of your closest friends, makes the words real. Too real to take back, to brush off as anything else.
Nobody’s said anything. Usually, at this point, Hyunjin would be offering unrealistic advice, or Seungmin would be telling you nobody wants to hear it. Something’s wrong. You look up. Half the room is staring at you.
Half the room is staring behind you.
“Ouch,” sounds from the doorway into Jeongin’s room. “Don’t give up on me yet.” His tone is lighthearted on the surface, but everyone in the room knows him well enough to hear the strain underneath it.
Every muscle in your body freezes. Unable to move, you and Felix are now locked in a horrible staring contest. He looks as scared as you feel.
No.
There’s no possible way to get out of this.
No.
It’s far too late to try to play it off as anything other than a confession. He would see straight through you. He always does when you’re lying.
Nononono.
How do you even explain that you’ve been unashamedly pining to the point everyone else is sick of hearing it, all to no avail? That you know he knows and now you’ve broken the silent “don’t talk about it to let her down easy” strategy he had going on.
You cannot be here.
You cannot turn around to face the consequences of your careless speaking.
You cannot stay in this room, on this street, on this planet with Jeongin.
Mechanically, on legs you pray aren’t actually shaking even though your cells are vibrating, you get to your feet. Something akin to, “Ihavetogobye,” spills out of your mouth, before you rush out the door without turning around. Without once looking back at Jeongin, or his insisting that you stay.
Jeongin studies his members, all sitting (or – in Changbin’s case – laying across Hyunjin’s lap), all staring back at him with nearly identical pitiful expressions. After running a hand down his face, as if he could wipe away the memory of what you said, he asks the room, “Does anyone want to tell me what that was about?”
Instead of actually answering his question, Chan just responds, “Dude.” Like dominoes, most everyone echoes the sentiment, dread growing in Jeongin’s stomach after every one. Rarely is nobody willing to outright tell him what he did wrong. Usually they jump at the chance to embarrass him.
Jeongin flops to the floor, right where you were sitting. “Dude what?,” he groans and tries to ignore the pain sprouting in his butt from his theatrics. “What did I do? Why is my girlfriend giving up on me?”
Han’s jaw audibly pops as it falls open.
A silence unlike anything Jeongin has ever known descends upon the dorm.
Even Hyunjin has stopped poking Changbin in the side to get a rise out of him. Jeongin is fairly certain it’s not this quiet even when nobody’s home. Once, when Chan was fed up with them, he had snapped that the next person to make a single sound would be doing everyone’s dishes for a month. This is quieter.
Seven twenty-something men collectively deciding to embody statues cannot mean anything good. They could hear a pin drop outside.
Until Seungmin starts giggling into his palm. To his credit, he does attempt to stifle it, but his laugh practically echoes in the silence.
Changbin begins laughing too. He rolls over to muffle the sound by hiding his face in Hyunjin’s stomach. His attempts are useless. Less than useless, because Hyunjin is ticklish and smacks him with a shriek that might be, “Stop it!” Changbin rolls back over, now nothing blocking his increase in volume. His shoulders shake the louder he gets. The whole thing only eggs Seungmin on, and soon enough, Seungmin, Changbin, Han, and Minho are in various stages of laughing at Jeongin.
Jeongin, baffled, asks, “What is happening?”
“Girlfriend?” Felix clarifies.
“Yes?” Jeongin feels like he’s missing a crucial piece of information.
Seungmin’s face is lit up with pure joy. He would give kids on Christmas morning a serious run for their money. “How long,” he pauses to wipe an honest-to-God tear from his cheek. “How long has that been going on?”
“I don’t know, a week? Maybe two?”
“Two?” Chan chokes on the word. “Dude.”
Jeongin has to be on the world’s worst prank show. A camera crew must be incredibly well hidden. “What is happening?” he asks again.
Hyunjin finds his words first. “Did you ever… tell her you’re dating?”
“Of course,” comes Jeongin’s easy reply. He bites back, What kind of question is that?
Hyunjin’s cocked eyebrow causes him to reconsider. The dates, the gifts, the… everything. He can’t recall outright saying, “We are in an exclusive romantic relationship,” but you have to know. He asked you out! Didn’t he? Yes. He did. Weeks ago. You said yes.
Wait.
You said yes to him asking, “Do you want to be with me?” over pasta and, admittedly, maybe one too many glasses of wine. There’s room for misinterpretation there. Clearly.
“Oh.” Jeongin blinks slowly. “A lot of things are starting to make sense.”
Seungmin guffaws again. Minho mutters, “Yeah, I bet they are.” Chan looks like he’s regretting choosing Jeongin for the group.
It’s ironic, in a way, that you end up at a familiar walking trail you and Jeongin visit often when either one of you needs fresh air. You didn’t even mean to come here, but you shut their front door behind you, and next thing you knew you’re wiping away tears and settling against a tree a short distance from the path. Wind blows through the trees, its accompanying chill biting at the wetness near your eyes.
You can’t dodge Jeongin’s calls forever. His contact photo constantly lighting up your screen is making it incredibly hard to forget he – and by extension, your feelings currently lodging themselves squarely in your throat – exists.
You have no right to be upset, not when you were too much of a coward to actually confess anything to him at all. Not when you willingly let every opportunity to tell him pass you up. Not when you just left. Who gives someone a painting and expects them to read four layers deep into it? Who goes to Han for rational advice?
Hell, Seungmin was the most direct with him. That’s a new low.
Behind you, footsteps you could pick out of a lineup crunch over leaves.
“Hey,” his voice is soft, almost lost in the breeze. Your refusal to meet his eyes doesn’t deter him, instead he just sits on the dirt across from you, the tongue of his shoe nearly touching yours. “Look at me, please.”
He looks like he always does, and it’s a twist of the knife. Something should be different, there should be some sign advertising the loss he’s about to hand you. His oversized hoodie, his hair overdue for a trim, same softness in his eyes. So much like your Jeongin, the one you cannot reconcile with the Jeongin who knows and doesn’t love you how you want.
But he is still your Jeongin, sweet and caring for the hard moments, so his face drops when he sees your red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks. He takes one of your hands in his, and you let him, because this might be the last time he does.
“I have been reliably informed that I misread what our relationship is,” he says.
A single choked laugh escapes your throat. “I know, it’s okay. You don’t have to sugarcoat, I can handle anything you tell me.”
“That’s not what I meant. I…” he starts, then stops again. His cheeks grow pinker by the second. He looks to the sky, then back at you. “I thought you were already my girlfriend.”
Well.
Almost anything.
What? “You – what?”
What?
If he seemed embarrassed ten seconds ago, he does doubly so now. He’s about to start shrinking in on himself. “Please don’t make me say it again,” he groans.
“Say it again.” You need to make sure you aren’t hearing things before getting your hopes up too much and shattering your emotions twice in a row.
“Remember that night we went out to dinner at that Italian place?”
Through your haze, you nod back at him.
“I asked you to be my girlfriend that night. At least, I thought I did. Now, I don’t think that actually happened.”
Blood roars in your ears. Your thoughts transform into TV static. “You want to date me even after everything that happened this week?” you ask through a tongue that suddenly feels too big for your mouth.
“Especially after everything that happened this week.” His answer is immediate.
Jeongin grins tentatively and takes a risk. He scoots closer towards you, and seeing you not make to move away from him, fully commits to sit next to you, wrap his arm around you, and pull you into his side. It’s a position you’ve been in so many times before, familiar and new, but now he’s yours and you’re his, like flowers blooming intertwined.
Warmth blossoms and spreads throughout you. The cold winds don’t seem so bad anymore. You’d stay out here forever, as long as your Innie keeps holding you. As long as he keeps knowing you and loving you because of your flaws, not despite them.
“Innie?”
He presses a kiss into the top of your head, and you have to fight not to derail your train of thought. “We’ve been dating for a while and you never tried to kiss me?”
He groans and lets his head drop onto the top of yours. “I thought you wanted to take it slow, I don’t know. I was trying to respect that.”
You’ve waited long enough.
“Will you kiss me now?”
The weight on your head disappears. You look up at him. He’s looking back at you.
This time he doesn’t pull away or snap himself out of it.
When he leans in and closes the gap between you, it’s absolutely nothing like you’ve dreamed about. No dream, no fantasy could compare to him, real and yours and kissing you like he won’t ever get another chance. Like he also cannot believe you’re letting him. He moves slowly, savoring your first kiss as long as possible.
Eventually, he has to pull away, keeping his eyes closed for several seconds after. He doesn’t go far, keeps his head inches away, enough to breathe without putting space between you. “D’you want to go back to the dorm?” he sighs against your lips.
“No,” you whisper back.
“Me neither.”
With a relieved grin, he brings you into him again.
everyone else stays up waiting for you two to stumble giggling back into the dorm, met with thunderous (ha) and noisy (ha ha) applause and several wolf whistles. seungmin leads them in a "jeongin! jeongin!" chant.
ily if you made it this far this was abandoned for a reason
dividers by @lariesographic & @uzmacchiato
taglist: @emilyywhyy @velvetmoonlght @opiumfidgetspinner @bahngarang @pixie-felix @certainstarfishmiracle @luvvvivi @strhwa @ayedomino008 @breakmeoff @foppishitudinality @ilovedallywinston @cookiewookie9t @astrayapple @teffyx @geni-627 @kpopgirliez @imnotsupposedtobedoingthis
lmk if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist
AAAAHHH THIS IS SO CUUUUTE AND HELLA FUNNY WHSHAJHSHJFK. i need like ten bags of wtv you've put in here cuz i was hooked; was smiling like a middle schooler looking at her crush while reading this 😭
warnings: dom!jeongin & sub!reader ⋆ biting! ⋆ marking! ⋆ hand! & mouth!kink ⋆ hair!pulling ⋆ choking! ⋆ finger!sucking ⋆ katoptronophilia! (arousal of doing sexual activities in front of a mirror) ⋆ almost getting caught ⋆ small!manipulation, gaslighting and corruption ⋆ dirty talk ⋆ clit!play ⋆ overstimulation ⋆ squirting! ⋆ fingering (f.receiving)
summary: you always noticed them — his hands, big, fingers long and slender, so veiny, that you could feel every single one of them pressing against your skin…you tried so hard not to act on your own inner desires, but as more things started to happen, your control over your body began to waver — and you weren’t the only one
main masterlist
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He doesn’t even know what he is doing to you. Your lips fall apart, your own fingers grazing over your lips, face, trailing lower and lower, imagining they were his instead. With every simple move of his hand — gripping, holding, touching or even just extending — with every look, every fleeting glance, your whole body shakes from the inside, mind turning to mush. You tried to stop, feeling so awful after every single thought of his hands, but nothing was enough to keep you from denying yourself the small pleasure of even trailing your eyes trail over them. His hands — so big, so strong, fingers long and thin, veins pressing against his skin every time he so much as grazes over something, rings glimmering at you teasingly. You can’t stop yourself — not now, when you have finally, just barely, started to feel them pressing against you.
Jeongin…when you first met him, he was shy — always wearing a sweet smile on his face that deepened into the cutest dimples. That is how you remember him and that is what you thought he is always like. You still remember how your own anxiety radiated off you at the thought of meeting your best friend’s friends. However Felix, being his bubbly self, did everything he could to make feel comfortable — comfortable enough that you eventually started coming to their practice from time to time. At first, you didn’t want to get to know them, mostly of the fear that they might not like you, but that fear faded quickly, forgotten the first day you ever spent with them.
Like Felix, they all were nice to you. Some more quiet than the others, but they always intended to make you comfortable and included — from Chan, making you feel included in every conversation, to Minho making sure your plate is always full, to Changbin always putting smile on your face with his stupid jokes, to Hyunjin who you share your love for art with, to Han who secretly shares his sweets with you, to Seungmin whose bickering and nagging keeps you occupied most of the time, but with his and all of your new friends’ doings, it still couldn’t make your attention even a little waver away from him.
He is all the same — quiet, but after some time you have realized that maybe it is just you. With the others he is open, he is more himself and you? You keep your eyes on him. The beginnings were difficult for everyone — always careful with their words and actions, till they finally saw the small weight on your shoulders fall off. You didn’t even realize how truly you were nervous around them, but they actually were just acting careful around you, so they wouldn’t scare you off. Even him, but with him, you have never truly got close enough.
You were staring, awfully so and you wonder how the others didn’t picked up on it yet or even him. Maybe somehow they did, maybe they just didn’t want to embarrass you, or maybe they were just clueless. He was nothing, but kind to you, walking around you slowly like in waiting, but you always did nothing, but stare. He also, not like the others, didn’t touch you — not even a slight push nor a hug. You do know about his small dislike of someone touching him and you do respect it, keeping your hands to yourself, while also imagining what it would feel like to have his on your skin.
You wonder if he maybe did notice your eyes on him, nonmoving, glaring, but after some time you started to notice the small changes between you two. You don’t remember, when it was the first time you truly noticed them, but you do remember the time, when he got you a drink you have requested. You remember how his fingers wrapped around the cold can, leaving small imprints — you remember, when you went to take it, your own fingers didn’t even reach where his once were. Even just this lingering memory makes you shake, air getting stuck in your throat. Such a small gesture — simple, but it meant so much more for you. It also fully started your little obsession, with his hands.
You have never touched them, not even that time, too careful and trying to be respectful and with that you never truly appreciated, how nice his hands are. You for quite a while didn’t even realize yourself how much time you have spent looking at them. You always liked hands, you even had a particular picture of perfect pair of hands and he had them. It is almost one of the first things you notice on a person and not just in a certain way — how they hold a pen, phone or even how they squeeze at you, when you go shake your hand with theirs. However there was also a one way you like them the most — how they would hold you, grip at you or even pinch you. You didn’t want to think about him and his hands in that way, because you thought it was wrong, even pinching yourself every time it crossed your mind. Your skin was tender at the end of the day and even the slight sting couldn’t stop you and at one particular night, when you were on the brink of sleep, you decided to not hold yourself off any longer.
Your mind was already fuzzy, exhausted. You could feel the world around you turning into black spots before your very eyes, but you knew that it mostly wasn’t from the need for sleep. You couldn’t close your eyes, mind swirling, thoughts a mess, before every black spot before you formed into one solid picture. Him — right on top of you, caging you, body pressed against yours. His hands — trailing over your body, gripping, pinching your skin between his fingers. Your breathing has turned into quiet gasps as you followed his imaginary movements with your own hands. Oh, how would they feel running through your hair. How his fingers would pinch lightly at your peeks. How would he use them on you — pushing, scissoring, moving so fast, curling just right, till they reach the one delicious spot inside you and you just know it would be so good. He would know perfectly what to do to you — you would let him do anything and everything to you…You would let him wrap his hands around you, till your skin would turn tender. You would let him wrap them around your neck, your hips, your thighs, everything. You would let him fuck you onto his fingers, cunt leaking all over him, squeezing tightly, because you knew it would be too delicious to stop…You are a mess and a one thing that didn’t help was that he had finally started to feel comfortable around you.
You felt so dirty, yet you couldn’t stop, not when the thought of your hands replaced by his brought you to such ecstasy that it made your eyes roll back into your head. When he for the first time touched you — shivers of delight ran down your spine, world around you swirling. It was so simple again, but it being him was everything, but that. Shock — sparks alighting on the spot and you did nothing, but stare dumply at him, yet again he didn’t seem to notice.
One day, when you were outside in a small garden, it had happened. That night was warm, small wind blowing through your hair as you so desperately tried to put them behind your ear to take a small bite of Minho’s amazing cooking. You were frustrated, huffing lightly as your hand came to wrap around the small strand of hair, that kept getting inside your mouth every time you would try to take a bite. You were almost ready to rip it out of your head, till you felt a small graze of fingers against your temple and like your body knew, you froze. Standing before you, looking down at you, was Jeongin and for a split second you caught his gaze — staring, he was staring right at you…your lips. The food in your spoon almost fell off, watching him slowly and precisely put your stubborn hair behind your ear, before turning back around to the conversion he was having with Hyunjin, like nothing had happened.
Like he didn’t just touch — like he didn’t do something so intimate, right in front of the others, like he didn’t just stare at your lips….
Your appetite didn’t return, it just turned into something way more different. The first time he ever laid his hands on you…Maybe you were thinking too much, but you never have felt such a rush, when Felix did it for example. So simple, yet not. For the rest of that night, like every other, you couldn’t stop looking, thinking, dreaming about those hands. Everything he did with them was something so mesmerizing and you were absolutely smitten. That night is treasured deeply in your heart and how much you didn’t expect him to do it again and again.
You tried to keep your distance, even if it didn’t mean much since you kept looking at how his fingers moved — so elegantly that you truly couldn’t do anything about your staring, but he…he seemed to only move closer and closer to you since than. When he first sat beside you, your body almost froze, like you were certain a small move would make him move away. Maybe you did want that in some way, because his whole presence made your mind shut off — mumbling, muscles spasming yet frozen and you truly wonder how you could even press down on the buttons of the controller you were holding. The game you were playing with Felix was quickly forgotten, his whining and shouting, nothing but a background noice, but one sentence ringed in the air.
“Let me try.”
Your head didn’t turn to him, body so still you didn’t know if you should just fall over so the ground could swallow you whole. He never truly spoke to you and you have to wonder again how is it that he has you wrapped around his finger this much…that’s right his finger, the one touching yours. Your eyes stared down on the controller in your hands as he came to grab it from your grasp, hands momentarily wrapping around yours. His hands — so big and warm were almost galloping yours and you couldn’t fight against the small sigh leaving you. His touch was again so brief that you thought it was just your wild imagination, but it did happened and you did find the last bits of strength to look up at him.
He was smiling, dimples showing seemingly sweet, but something in his eyes flickered briefly, when he trailed his gaze over your features before looking away. You were a mess, truly a mess and there is no other word better to describe yourself. Since than he did so many things with his hands, when he was near you — hands running through his hair, till you got a whiff of his lingering shampoo, his fingers tugging at the zipper of his hoodie, tapping against the glass of his drink, fingers pressing against his lips, when he was deep in thought and every time you looked — every time you noticed how his head would slightly tilt into your direction and every time you looked away in shame. Every time your eyes met his, you naively thought he was only glancing your way, only looking at his new friend — but, oh…how wrong you were.
────
Sweat — rolling down their flushed skin, chests rising in deep, rigid breaths, that you mirror lightly in your own way. You can see the exhaustion dripping off them, heads rolling back, muscles jumping, joints shaking as they slump down to the ground. You don’t know for how long you have been here, how long you have been lost in thought, but it was enough for them to feel their bodies screaming for relief. You tried to helped them the best you could, but you yourself didn’t see why you were even needed here in the practice room. Felix and the others, thought of you as a thing to lean on, a support and what kind be friend would you be not to stay…Even if you were just sitting on the couch watching — watching him.
Your best friend startles you a little, pulling you out of your thoughts as he flops down next to you, huffing, stretching. “Man, I am so tired–“ Felix whines to no one particular. However you do smile a little, when he turns to you to jokingly pout, before his lips part again to blow out puffs of air.
“We should take a break.” Says Chan, nodding at everyone, seemingly exhausted as well. The new comeback was a weight on everyone’s shoulders right now — nonstop practicing, trying to get perfect their dances that were already flawless. You had thought that maybe your presence might distract them somehow. However to them you were a calm presence, a shoulder to lean on. What they didn’t seem to realize, though, is that it was quite the opposite for you. It felt like torture in a sense…watching sweat drip down his face, trailing down his neck, pulling at his thin t-shirt in attempt to cool down a little, hearing the heavy breaths escape him between takes, the deep frown of concentration etched on his face as he danced.
You are more quiet than usual, fidgeting with your own hands, as your eyes travel from him to the others — no use whatsoever, because you still found yourself looking at him as he goes to sit down on the floor. “Want something to eat, before we continue?” Asks Chan, voice breathy and his question is already being answered by series of agreements.
You don’t know what time it is now, but you do feel small specks of exhaustion settling over you too. Still, as always, your mind and heart ignore the rest of your body, too occupied with the view infront of you. Jeongin had you mesmerized by his smooth movements, hair now slightly damp from the hours of practice and you couldn’t help, but wonder how much time had passed to get him like this — body sprawled over the floor, elbows holding his upper body up as he leaned back into the couch. Every time he would take a breath, his dark t-shirt would cling onto his chest. His head is rolled back, giving you a view of his long neck, your eyes following the prominent vein peaking from beneath the thin skin, Adam’s apple bobbing, looking good enough to bite and his hands…they keep twitching, like tapping into the rhythm of the music that already had stopped playing minute ago. You are distracted again, so much you don’t feel or hear the others moving around the room.
“Innie-ah, you coming?” Asks Hyunjin and that makes you turn away from him to the others, who look at their dark haired friend, who is still sitting on the floor. You don’t even realize, that they already moved to go get some food, your eyes meeting Felix’s and you do know he could see the way yours widened at the next words.
“No–“ Says Jeongin and you already feel a lump forming in your throat at the answer as he doesn’t even take a move to go with them. “Just buy me whatever.” He waves his hand lightly, your eyes flickering over the room back to him and you almost crumble, when he meets you in the middle.
You can feel the others now looking at you too in a silent question, which should be simple to answer in a sense, but you can’t help but almost stutter. You will be alone…alone with him, if you don’t go and you don’t know if you want that. No, you feel like your body needs that — feeling his and his presence only caging you in and the thought makes your seemingly exhausted body wake up from any kind of slumber it was in. Your body and heart speaks for you, but your mind screams at your answer.
“I don’t want anything — I will just wait here.“
Everything was said so fast and collected, but your gaze didn’t waver from his, because you physically couldn’t look away. You watch his eyes narrow a little, fingers twitching again and like a fly you follow the movement, almost blacking out at that, because he just saw you. He was you definitely looking and if you hadn’t turned away as if the sight of his hands physically burned you, it might have not look so obvious. You curse at yourself silently in your mind, glancing at the others, who nod at you in acknowledgment, before taking their leave and just as their presence started to fade, you feel his grow heavier — expanding, filling the space around you.
You are choking, thoughts a mess and for the first time you don’t think about anything and you just feel. You don’t hear, but feel the doors closing, the distancing footsteps, the way his breathing levels, the way his muscles stretch, when he goes to take a sip of his water. The way his fingers scrunch up the water bottle…You want to cry, scream, anything, because you don’t even recognize yourself anymore. You have never been so smitten, so mesmerized by someone and the worst part is that he might never know…
Jeongin swallows the last bits of water, before looking at you. Your legs are pushed up to your chest, sitting in the far corner of the couch, like you wanted to make yourself as small as possible. The dimmed light highlights the small frown on your face, watching silently, how you fumble with your fingers. It was quiet, nothing, but the small rustles of fabric from him, when he moves to stretch a little and the small hum of the air conditioning in the room. The small cold breeze does nothing for your heated skin, eyes looking down at nothing in particular, silently counting the seconds. You are pathetic — finally you have him alone with you and you can’t even do anything about it. You don’t even know what would you say…you don’t even know, if you are even capable of ever voicing your words out loud.
You don’t know if it is just you again, who feels the tension in the room, but you do feel how he suddenly turns his attention to you. You don’t move, his stare piercing through your body in a way that it is almost impossible for you to look back at him. You have no shield, no excuse — you can look at him, you are just not sure if you are capable of normally, without your emotions reflecting in your eyes. However you do see him from the corner of your eye stand up, pushing down his sweatpants that had ridden up his long legs. “Want some?” His voice cuts through the thick air and you can’t do anything, but nervously look up at him to know what he is asking.
In his hand is his now empty water bottle, fingers digging into the plastic little deeper than it is necessary. Your eyes meet his only, because he moves his occupied hand to his face to lightly flick off a small drop of sweat running down his jaw. At that you notice how your closed up throat is screaming in thirst, nodding slowly in plea, too scared to even open your mouth to speak. Jeongin mimicks you, before walking up to the small table in the corner of the room. You wonder why you both not just ignore each other, scrolling away on your phones before everyone gets back — you soak in each other’s presence.
You follow his every move, suddenly so confident with his back turned to you, watching muscles rip under his thin t-shirt. Everything goes slow around you, yet too quick at the same time, body twisting a little, when he turns back to you to give you your water. Your muscles spasm, legs falling down the couch in a sound way too loud in the silence of the room and you can’t help, but cringe at everything you are doing right now. You feel exposed under his eyes, even if he is just looking, even if his stare is always seemingly so nerve racking.
Jeongin stops right in front of you, making your frown disappear from your face so quickly you almost have a whiplash. Right before you is your water bottle, his hand wrapped around it — you go grab it slowly and unsurely. You keep your face straight as best as you can, but how can you, when your hand touches his…the reason you are so miserable. His skin is cold, kissed by the dripping water and you follow it, till it falls off the tip of his finger. You don’t know if you are moving so slow just to not crumble, hand lingering on his second too long that it seems intentional. However his touch — before you can melt into the leather couch any further is gone as his hand falls back to his side.
You feel your heart shatter not just from that, but also because you notice how your hands shake a little as you go to take a sip. The cold water though does nothing too ease your inner thirst, not when he is still standing before you…You swallow a little too hard, carefully glancing at him from beneath your lashes and your lips are left parted at the sight of him towering over you. He was always a bit taller than you, but from this angle you are even more intimidated. When did he move so close? You almost feel the material of his sweatpants grazing over you and you don’t move away from it nor into it — you are completely still, staring at him and he does notice the inner battle reflecting in your eyes. There is no use, you don’t have the strength to fight your emotions right now.
“Something wrong?” He asks you, voice smooth as ever, loud around you. You are completely drowning in his presence alone. Your lips go to press against each other, but your mouth is left open again, when you catch him following the movement. Goosebumps rise on your skin, words getting caught in your throat again, so you just decide to just shake your head, even if you are lying. Everything is wrong — with you and your obsession, kink, to the way he stands before you, talks, moves. How does he do it?
Your eyes travel away from him, just for a second to atleast blink, because it seems you can’t even do that, but then shock fills you. The move so quick and smooth you feel your mouth drying again, when he suddenly takes the water from you. Pathetically you want to chase the feel of his skin again, but you only look up at him in bewilderment. The way his fingers grazed over yours leaves a permanent burning sensation, that sends your stomach spinning. It seemed like he used your disbelief of such act to move closer, because your knee touches his leg briefly, but that isn’t the thing that makes you almost fall into unconsciousness.
It is the way he puts the rim of the bottle against his own lips, tongue sticking out for a moment and you visibly shiver at the thought of it being your lips instead. He takes a long sip of water, some of it rolling down to his chin, neck bobbing again. The way he makes everything look so good, should be illegal. Your mind shatter again, because he is drinking from the same bottle as you — he could have take a new one for himself. You knew how he is, when people get close to him, how he slightly pulls away from an unexpected hug, even if there is a smile on his face. He is definitely not smiling now…he is watching you from behind your water, small breath falling from him as he goes to wipe away the spilled water from his pink lips. “Sorry, thirsty–“ He shrugged, like that move didn’t just make you form into a puddle.
“It’s okay.” You mumble so quietly you don’t even hear yourself. You watch him relax his arms by his sides, also noticing, how he holds to bottle just with his fingers. You don’t know where to look right now, small silence between you two, before he so suddenly smiles down at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, nor it does last long as he tilts his head at you.
It was a silent question and you answer it by another wave of silence, not really sure what to do — if you want him to leave or let him get even closer to you. The quiet makes it hard for you to breathe, his presence and stare only intensifying it. You can see his own unspoken words circling in his eyes, yours nonblinking so you wouldn’t seem like a bigger mess than you already are. With his head tilted down at you, the move making your heart skip a beat, his lips form into a small frown. “You are always so quiet, when I am around…Did I do something?” Jeongin sounds sad, eyebrows furrowing lightly and you do nothing, but panic a little.
“No!” You say, voice a little too loud, making heat rush to your cheeks. With your now wide eyes you watch his frown deepen even more and you curse yourself for being like this around him.
“Really?“ He says, pausing a little, features softening, but his eyes hardening. “Then why do you keep looking at me?” You pause, breathing becoming short as you stammer to answer. He is only meaning now — not every day, every moment…You are again lying to yourself, but you have to, otherwise you would probably die on the spot. However the way he said it…no.
“I don’t look at you.” That is the most vile lie you have ever said and you are still looking at him, while you said it. You feel the world closing on to you at the thought of him noticing your nonstop staring — that’s it, you are only allowed to look at him from afar. Admire him, thing you will propably never have, but in some way you do wanted him to notice. In some twisted way, you want him to punish you for it…
Jeongin only hums lowly at your answer, gaze leaving yours, like in deep thought, before he twists his body a little to put the bottle onto the table behind him. Why does it feel like he is waiting? Maybe to see if you will crack? What if he did notice and now he thinks you hate him or something? Your mind is running wild, so distracted that you see him moving in the mirrors surrounding you, way before you feel him.
He humms lowly again, before he goes to sit right next to you, body so close to yours you do a double take to make sure you are seeing right. In the mirror you see him looking at you, feeling the hard glare on the side of your face, but you don’t meet it. You are baffled by everything he did so far — so out of character, so different from the smiley Innie you knew. For a moment think you think, that are dreaming. That you are only imagining his side touching yours, feeling every breath he takes. The small spasm of muscle, when he twists his body to face you a little more. However you see it and feel it, everything is happening so fast you can’t do anything about it yet again. His reflection — the smell of his sweat mixed with his perfume sends you into overdrive and when you see him move his right hand to you…you are left speechless again.
You let him, really you can’t even fight it, because you have been thinking about his hands, his touch every night and every day and now…now his hand comes to put your hair behind your ear. It is the same as before, but now his touch seems to hold a meaning, hand lingering on the side of your face. You let him trace his fingers over your jaw, all the way down to your chin, but he doesn’t make you look at him. You only watch him through the mirror, like you are not ready to face this reality of him touching you so intensely. His hair hides his gaze on your lips, but you do feel it, lips parting in silent gasp as he moves his hand back to your hair. Goosebumps rise on your skin, shivering, when he presses over the skin behind your ear, before you see him leaning closer, hot breath fanning over your ear.
“I know.”
That word…that word makes you freeze in your spot, panic, fear and something more striking you, head snapping to face him. He is close — his nose almost touches yours if you wouldn’t back away in on an instinct. Jeongin’s face is calm, hint of a smile on his lips at your state as your mouth keeps closing and opening. “What-“ You are in denial somehow, only to calm yourself down, but is it even possible with him being so close to you? You watch him remove his hand, with watchful eyes and with that his smile only widens, while you feel a lump forming in your throat. His leg is pressed against yours, reminding you of how close he still is to you and you almost whimper at the confident look you are given — he knows.
“You think, I didn’t notice?” His tone isn’t sharp, but it still does make shame and embarrassment reach you, because you have been caught. Jeongin doesn’t seem to be angry nor disappointed and that makes it all too worst, because he must already know the answer to why exactly you have been watching him. “You stare at me every time I turn away — hoping I won’t catch you, but I always do. So tell me…why and what is it you are looking at?”
You are ashamed. He already knows, but he still wants you to say it. His face is so close to yours, hand on the back of the couch and you know that if you would try to move away he will catch you — there is no way out of this. Though you don’t have the strength to admit yourself yet. “Nothing…” You whisper, head low, while he tilts his again.
“Nothing?” He repeats and now you hear a small hint of dissatisfaction.
“I…I am just looking nothing more, I swear-“ Liar — you are a horrible liar.
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
You have never heard such tone leaving his lips before and you wonder if he is turning angry only because you won’t say it. How can you? You have been caught, but it is not like you were subtle about your actions to begin with. You are embarrassed to be acting like that — so desperate and pathetic, but you can’t control your needs and desires. You feel almost on the brink of tears just from how ashamed you are and you want nothing more than to run and hide, so you do. However you are only quick enough to sit up, hands immediately finding you, pressing you back into the couch and you do gasp out loud at that.
He doesn’t remove his hands from your upper arms, hold strong enough for you to see there is no use trying to escape. His fingers dig into you hard, but it is everything, but painful. You are forced to meet his gaze again and you quiver at the glare he sends you. “Talk, Y/N — can you even do that?” Jeongin leans closer to you, making your back press into the cushion, while he almost hovers over your body.
You don’t know what to do — cry, scream? In embarrassment, pain, but mainly relief, because seeing him like this leaning over your body sends shivers down your spine. “I am sorry–“ You whisper, gasping lightly, when he suddenly releases you from one of his hands to press against the spot next to your head, leather squeaking under his weight.
“Sorry for what exactly?” You almost shake your head, because you don’t particularly know the answer. You are sorry for everything, yet not, because your actions leaded to this. You don’t take your eyes off each other, chests rising so wildly they almost meet. Something then flickers in his eyes, features softening just for you to notice the change. “Sorry, that you don’t talk to me like you do to others?” You blink at the change of tone a little, his words striking small confusion, but you are no fool — he is being manipulative and it is working.
“I was trying to be…respectful.” That word sits heavy on your tongue.
“Respectful…” He repeats after you again. You let him turn you into nothing by a mess beneath his hands, melting at the way his hand travels up your arm. “You and I both know there is nothing respectful between us–“ Your state — wide eyes, lips parted, skin heated — your state makes him melt a little too.
“Us?”
Jeongin is shaking on the inside, because he knew — he wanted you to say it so bad, his grip tightens over your collarbones, thumb pressing into the bone. “Tell me, Y/N. Why are ypu acting so different around me — and don’t tell me you were only looking. I can see you mouthing the words…what do you want?“ It’s a demand, perhaps a plea for you to stop acting innocent.
“I don’t–“
He tsks at you, frown falling over his face, growing frustrated. “Why are you so scared…Did I do something to upset you?” Jeongin says, quietly, sounding so sincere, you stutter.
“No!” It comes out broken, ending in a pathetic whine. You can’t breathe, because it would make you breathe him in too. You realize your state at that…You can’t hide any longer, there was no use even at the start of this. “It’s me…” You confess, not fully, but he sees the way the invisible shield before you crack enough for him to press against you more.
Your legs are pushing against each other, his hand griping on to the cushion next to your head, while the other slides over your arm back again. You watch his eyes turn dark, making you tremble beneath him. Jeongin’s breath mixes with yours, gaze piercing through yours, till it suddenly drifts to your mouth. “Then tell — tell me, what you want and I will give it to you.” His words are like honey, but you hear something, that makes you choke…desperation.
“I can’t–“ You can’t move, breathe, but you do feel him and it is becoming absolutely intoxicating.
“But you do want to–“ His eyes meet yours again, small silence falling between you after that. You don’t answer, because it is so obvious — you need it, want it, you are just not sure if you can handle it. Your body battles with your mind as his hand comes to caress the side of your neck. You whimper, the sound so loud in the silence and so raw you have to close your eyes. His fingers tickle you and your breath turns into gasp, when you feel him blowing air on to the thin skin of your neck. That sound sends sparks of pleasure up his spine. You are too into everything to notice the slight shake in his movements, while his next words bounce off your skin. “Do you want me is that it? Or do you just want my hands?”
You don’t recognize him, he is completely dripping in sin and you are eating every last bit of it. With his lips so close to your skin, your eyes flew back open, staring behind him at the reflection of you two. “I…I want–“ You are speechless, watching him pull away a little to meet your gaze again, heart hammering against your chest as he puts his hands around your back to pull you closer. “I want everything.”
“Then take it.”
You pull your hands away from your chest to press them against his instead, gasping lightly when you feel his heart. “Please–“ Your hands grasp at his t-shirt, making it slide down his chest a little and your simple plea makes him snap.
Jeongin knew — he knew from the beginning. How your lips fell apart every time he would look at you. How your body stilled, every time he was near you and how you stared at his hands and everything he does with them. He firstly thought he was imagining it, thinking maybe, that you are too shy to approach someone new to talk to them, but he quickly realized it — you didn’t want to just talk, you wanted something more, him. The idea corrupted him, the idea of his friend’s best friend being so smitten by him to the point you would fall down to your knees the second he would touch you. Like now — pulling you closer to his heated body, eyes falling to your lips, that were always so delicious to look at. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to grasp the opportunity to finally talk to you, to feel you. He finally has you, where he wants and he wonders, what would Felix think about the way you are acting like now. So desperate, so his…
The racing thought, the realization that maybe somebody might walk in and caught you two in the act is something he never knew he wanted. His tongue swipes across his lips, mouth so close to yours now, that you feel it grazing you, your small gasp for air being then swallowed by his hungry mouth. It’s hard, all so knowingly desperate and he drinks your small sighs of pleasure with greediness. The feel of his lips finally on yours makes you delirious, letting your body fall onto his, lips pushing harshly against his. It is all spit, tongue and teeth, everything, but sweet, making your mixed drool roll down your chins. His hands roam then, sliding up your back, then down to your hips, before one of them tangles in your hair.
You cry out sharply, when you feel him tug at your roots, head rolling back, the new exposed flesh being immediately warmed by his mouth. Jeongin doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, running his lips over you — licking, sucking, nibbling and you let him take it all. “Finally you have said it–“ He mumbles across your skin, groaning into you. “If only you had said it sooner.”
“Jeongin–“ You yelp, when he suddenly bites the side of your neck, the pain quickly melting into pleasure. You panic, suddenly realizing your position and situation — the others can be back at any given moment, you know nothing about how far away they are and also their is a possibility of someone roaming around the building, even at this late hour. If someone wrong sees you, it would get you two into big trouble. However his kisses, touches quickly pull you out of your racing thoughts.
You trust him maybe more than you should, considering that you can feel the slight sting at the side of your neck. The small appearing mark doesn’t seem to stop him, it is completely the opposite. His hand finds the back of your neck, too weak to fight him, making him twist you to his liking. Jeongin licks a long straight line up your neck, before blowing cold air, sending shivers down your spine. You are already shaking, legs pushing against each other a little harder, smearing your already leaking juices. The action is not missed, hands falling to your thighs, pinching at your flesh. You are hot — sweat dripping down the side of your face, breathing fast. His mouth then meets yours again, in a kiss so sweet you can’t help, but whimper.
“Been thinking about your mouth for so long.” The confession makes you fist his t-shirt harder, almost ripping it. You feel yourself clenching over nothing, legs pressing against each other, his hands only increasing the pleasure.
Jeongin pokes his cheek with his tongue, breathing heavily through his nose as he leans away to look at you. Just your look — just your slick, puffy lips and glossy eyes make his cock twitch. The thought of you being so open for him like this, so trusting, is something that maybe he wants to show off. You are a problem…sweet, delicious, addicting, making him act like this, but it seems you are too drunk to even notice the effect you have on him. His fingers tug lightly at the material of your sweatpants, feeling the heat of your skin even through the layers of clothing. He watched you too — he thought about you and how you would look…Under him, on top of him, gasping, whimpering, pleading for more and more, till you are left crying in pleasure and overstimulation. He wondered how you would taste like. How you would sound like, when he would suck at your clit just right — he thought about your mouth and how it would be like to kiss you. How you would wrap your lips around his skin, his cock…His eyes then flicker to the closed doors briefly. He wanted you — all of you, but not right now. However he will give you exactly, what you want and need.
You are left puzzled for a moment, when he suddenly pulls away from you, feet hitting the floor. He sits back, lifting his lower half a little and at that you notice the outline of his cock pressing against his sweats. You bite your lip at the prominent outline of him, watching him spread his legs wider, before he lightly taps his thighs. “Come here–“ He says, leaning back onto the couch. Your desperation makes you not skip a beat, all shame leaving the room from seeing him worked up just like you are. You sit up, crawling your way up to him, but before you can sit, his hands find your hips. “No, like this.” His strength surprises you, letting him turn you around so your back faces him, lifting you up to sit you on his lap. You feel it — his chest rising under you, his breath on the side of your neck as he pushes your hair to the side, his cock pressing right against your ass as you come to sit between his open thighs. His lips find your skin straight away, hands running over your legs and you gasp lightly, when you suddenly lift your gaze to the mirrors infront of you, only finding him watching you the whole time. “I want you to see–“ Jeongin watches your eyes trace over his hands that lightly tweak at your thighs. “What exactly were you imagining?”
He wants you to say it, even if he knows it, even if he feels you shaking under his hands. Your eyes briefly close to savor the feeling, twitching on his lap, making you press your backside harder to his cock. You feel him chasing the feeling, hips lifting you up a little to make you bounce one more time. It makes you gush even more, legs opening and closing, trying to ease the ache between your legs. You are in haze, completely drunk of him and you don’t care about anything but his touch anymore. “Your hands on me…” You say, the confession making his hands stop at the waistband of your sweatpants, fingers grazing over your exposed skin.
His lips press against your skin, biting down a little, making you feel the smile on his face, before you even see it. The sight is so dirty — so everything, captivated by how his hand extends over your lower stomach. “Where?” Jeongin is teasing, getting off your frustration, watching a sweet frown fall on your face .
“Please, just–“ You move around on his lap, the another graze of your bottom half across his cock, making him hiss lightly, before you see him putting one of his hands back in your hair.
Jeongin tugs lightly, your head tilting to your shoulder, meeting his wild gaze in the mirror. “I can give you what you want, you just have to ask nicely.” You whine at that, few tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, glimmering in the soft light in the room.
You are done fighting against the last bits of your self respect, cunt clenching again, when his fingers on you travel lower, till you feel them dipping under your sweats. “Jeongin — I want your fingers, please–“ There is no time to waste if he wants to give you what you want and your sweet voice echoes around him like a siren.
He turns to look down at you, tugging your head so it faces his and he curses at the pout you give him. Your lashes are wet, bottom lip quivering and that action makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. “Fuck–“ He kisses you again, briefly yet messily, moaning with you as his tongue rolls against yours, before he pushes away again, small string of saliva connecting you two. Both of his hands find your waist again, rolling the soft material between his fingers, tugging a little. “Take these off.” Your skips a beat at his words, shaking hands finding his.
You pull your sweatpants off, with his help, lifting yourself up a little and as you kick them off your legs, sitting back again, the feel of his cock is much more intense than before. You gasp as he moves a little so he is right between your cheeks, eyes opening wide at the sheer size of him. Your eyes then meet his again, but now in the mirror, following his line of sight to the dark, wet spot on your underwear. “Look–“ You already are — watching him and his hands traveling down your legs, the feeling making you press against him even more.
His hands are hot and heavy, gripping at the meat of your thighs, when you just a little bit close them at the sight of your juices coating your skin. Your smell is intoxicating, the feel of you trembling just as his finger dips lightly inside your thighs is addicting. Jeongin is staring straight on the wet spot infront of your black panties, low light hitting your slick skin just right. You jerk at the first ever touch of his fingers — they press against you, right over your puffy clit, the small move more than enough to make you moan. “Fuck, you are dripping–“ You whimper in response, looking down at how his fingers are getting coated with your juices.
“More–“ You say, already loosing your mind at how his fingers just keep pressing and not moving. Your hole clenches at the thought his fingers dipping into you. Even though if your tone is whiny, borderline desperate he takes it in a way that makes him snap a little.
“Yeah? Want me to fuck you, with my fingers?” You are still having a whiplash from his sudden change of behavior, but you only lean more into it. You nod wildly, head turning to look at him, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours, because you suddenly feel him tugging at the flimsy material of your underwear. He pulls them to the side, making them snap a little when he releases them. Cold air kisses your slick cunt then, you shivering lightly, shaking, when his fingers just barely graze over you. You don’t even have time too look down, mind to hazy from the quick touch. You don’t even look, when one of his hands come to grip at the side of your neck — not when his other, coated with your juices comes to press against your lips.
“Open.”
Your lips fall apart in a gasp, making it for him all too easier to shove his two fingers inside your mouth, pressing them down at your tongue. Your mouth wraps around his digits instantly, sucking lightly the taste of your sweetness inside your mouth. But then you look — you see how his own eyes gloss over, mouth opening as you lightly bite down at the tips of his fingers. The look you give him makes his other hand travel to the front of your throat, making a loud sound escape you, when he suddenly rips his hand away from your lips, maneuvering your head back to face your reflection as he finally moves to touch you.
His already used hand comes to cup you, his palm digging into you, smearing your wetness all over your skin and his hand. “Soaked–“ Jeongin groans with you, hand on your throat squeezing a little and he can feel how that action makes your clit twitch under his fingers. Small, precise circles are made, him expertly moving the hood of your clit away to touch you more deeply — it is even better than you imagined. He is so mean about it too…Pressing you against his chest, with his hand on your throat, making you watch yourself in the mirror, while he plays with you. His rolls your bud between his fingers, pinching it lightly, the small pain just a low, addicting buzz. Your stomach twists, body burning and jerking over his cock, that he keeps pushing into you.
Your breathing is fast, matching his, eyes on yours reflection instead of looking down and the sight makes your stomach flip. It almost feels forbidden — you feel more exposed. Jeongin swipes his fingers over you, extending them to get every inch of you touched. He traces over your slit, each time his fingers dipping lower and lower, watching you clench over nothing. You feel blood rushing to your face, little bit self conscious of being in such exposing position and him still being clothed, while you are spread wide open, but everything is way too good to say anything about it. “So wet, that I could slide right in–“ You gasp when his ring and middle finger slide lower.
“Please — I want it–“ You keep repeating it, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder, but you only receive a tight squeeze to your throat.
“Then look.” You do — him helping you look back at your reflection, just as his fingers dig deeper into you. There is no resistance, you are so wet you can feel yourself dripping down on the couch. You twitch a little at the sensation, mind swirling. His long fingers slide inside you quick, too quick for you to breathe through it. However only your body knows its limits and you are not even surprised that you only suck them right in.
Jeongin is losing his mind over, how your velvety walls keep closing onto him — so soft and slippery. The thought of him sliding inside you instead is great, hips lifting both of your bodies in hopes he would get closer to your cunt, only making his fingers go deeper in you. You whimper, eyes almost closing at the way the tips of his fingers reach your cervix, palm of his hand grazing over your clit. His other fingers then hook around you, wrist twisting, before he starts to scissor his fingers inside you, searching. “You have touched yourself to this?” He mumbles lowly, lips against your neck. “You wanted this for so long, that you imagined it every time I would just barely touch you–“ No question — he knows.
“Wonder if I can make you squirt–“
A cry leaves you, when he suddenly at that curls his fingers inside you, palm moving against your clit. The idea of you doing that is unfamiliar. You have never done that, you have never even been close to it, but the way his fingers reach so easily to the one gummy spot inside you, tells you he might be able to do it way to easily. “Don’t stop — Jeongin-“ You moan his name, when he starts to trust his fingers inside you, curling them up each time they slide into you.
“You are…so–“ He is a little lost for words. The way your body reacts to his touch — hips lifting to chase his touch, your nails digging into his hand still holding your throat, though not clawing at it for him to stop — your other holding his, that keeps thrusting into you…He is drooling. Wet, nasty sounds fill the room, his fingers increasing on speed, but now more pushing against you so his palms keeps hitting your clit. You are moaning, gasping, music to his ears, however even if he knows that no one can hear you inside this room, he also knows that when you would go close enough to the door you could probably hear the filthy noises coming from you both.
Jeongin’s hand on your throat leaves you, making you gulp in air, but your mouth is only able to take in few breaths, before his hands clasps it. “Shhhh— you don’t want them to hear, right?” Your eyes widen at that, loud moans of pleasure turning into whimpers as you wildly shake your head. “Huh…still I bet you would like that–“ His words makes you clench down on his fingers, tips of them now just curling inside you, palm moving against you.
You are way too easy — you already feel you lower tummy rumbling in the way too familiar pleasure, moaning against his hand as he moves his other to push his thumb against you. You are starting be aware of everything around you — from the way he keeps whispering sweet, nasty nothings into your ear, hot air blowing against your skin. How he moans every time your hips press against his, how you both look like nothing, but sin in the mirror — where are you and what are you doing right now, knowing your friends might be back any minute. Your wildest dreams coming true — him fucking you with his delicious fingers, feeling every vein pressing against you…is all too much for your body to handle.
Then with one particular push of his thumb against your clit, fingers not losing any rhythm, scissoring, curling, you slide a little down on the couch. Your leaking cunt and sweat is making it too easy for you to slide off, but then his hand on your mouth comes to catch you before you could run away from the immense pleasure. He tsks again at your doings, small breath, like a laugh, leaving him, hand grasping your thigh, before hooking it around his. That only makes his fingers go deeper into you, hitting your cervix each time. You are huffing, choking to get air back inside your lungs as you start to shake around him.
Jeongin notices your change way too quickly, turning his head from your reflection to your tear stained face. “Gonna cum, baby?” The nickname makes you whimper pathetically, eyes barely open, but they don’t leave the mirror in fear he would stop. “You don’t even know, how much better I can fuck you, with my cock–“ Your breath hitches, pleading for him not to stop talking, his words just pushing you more and more to the edge. You have never knew, only dreamed about him talking to you like this — the words, even so unexpected, making you run hot, seemingly coming off way more natural than you would have thought.
You are shaking harshly, feeling heat washing over you, mewling at the way he keeps the delicious pace. Your head rolls to the side, teary eyes meeting his and he almost coos at the way you are having such a hard time to keep them open. Your legs keep closing, but he doesn’t let you move away, hand digging into your thigh so deep you know it will mark — and he does want to mark you with purpose, even though he decided that he would probably never let anyone get close enough to see it…though the mark on your neck says otherwise. You feel it — the burn inside you, the way your body keeps chasing the pleasure, face screwing up, mouth open and slick, droll running down your face.
“Fuck – I’m gonna–“ You start to breathe in series of gasps, gaze shooting back to the mirror and then back to him again.
With your sharp moan, Jeongin kisses you again, deep groan leaving the deepest part of his chest as he feels your body stilling. Your vision turns white, your ears ring, head rolling back in ecstasy as your hands fly to grasps his arm to ground your self. The orgasm is so strong it leaves you voiceless, silent scream leaving you, but then…it doesn’t stop — he doesn’t stop. His hand moves, but only so it doesn’t touch your twitching clit, only to start trusting his fingers inside you again with a movement so fast your cry rings in the room. “What are you – Oh, fuck!” You can’t see, your vision is blurry, eyes though still being capable to follow his line of sight.
Jeongin is breathing harshly, tongue poking out of his mouth, watching his fingers disappear inside you. He holds you down the best he can, moaning when he suddenly hears the wet sounds coming from your cunt. Your juices start to splash, your still hot cum leaking out of you and drooling down the couch and you panic at the foreign feeling bubbling inside you. It is too fast, too much — you try to warn him, run away from the intense feeling, but you are too weak to do anything other than tremble on top of him. You are overwhelmed, overstimulation high and you scream as the feeling comes over you. “Come on, just one more — do it, soak my fucking hand–” He silences you for your own good, fingers pushing inside your mouth again to quiet down the loud cry, as the feeling you were trying so hard to hold back wins over.
Before your eyes close, you see yourself squirt around his hand, your juices reaching all the way to the ground and table before you, making you scream in small horror and euphoria. You have never felt something so intense, something so pleasurable that it made you cry. Your body arches off his and Jeongin in his state of awe lets your legs fall shut, his hand still working you up. Everything is a blur for while for you, shaking and quivering, feeling your slick pooling on the couch under you. “Oh, my-“ His hand stills at your small whimper of overstimulation, fingers slowly sliding out of you and he has to push your legs apart to even free his hand.
Jeongin is marveled by the sight before him, eyes drifting over your reflection to you. You are covered in thin sheen of sweat, skin blooming under his touch and he has to stop himself from not going back to give you more. You are spent — done, you almost can’t even move, body slumped weakly against his. His eyes then drift back between your legs, that are finally moving apart, muscles spasming in your legs and exposed tummy. You have soaked everything — your legs, the couch, even the table before you and Jeongin has to bite back a groan at that. He watches you breathe through it, small whimpers still reaching his also ringing ears, however he then decides to lift you off his lap.
You moan in small protest, blinking away your now dried tears, while he stands to grasp the small box of tissues off the marked table. “Here-“ Still a gentleman, even after turning you into a complete mush. He is gentle now, atleast when he goes to wipe away your juices from your body for you, seeing you are too weak to even do it yourself. Your eyes trail over him, watching his eyes clear a little, but there is still that spark, still the reminder of what he did to you just now. You then look down to his still covered cock — he must have adjusted himself, when you weren’t looking, because you can only see just a small imprint of him. The tissues are little too harsh on your sensitive skin, jumping a little at the sensation, but his hand, now softly laying on your naked thigh, calms you.
You are sticky all over, the room hot from the thing you have done, but there is no shame now. Something about the way he cleans you so softly, touch so featherely, eyes bright, you realize that maybe there is something more about to it, then just lust. Though you could not think about it too long, because the silence between you is interrupted, when a loud sound of nearby voices is heard flowing down the hall. “Shit-“ Your eyes widened, scrambling away from him, just as he puts your underwear back over you and you do ignore how it stick to you like a second skin. You don’t look at him, too occupied of grabbing your sweatpants off the floor to notice his lingering stare. You push them up, just as you hear the voices of your friends right outside the door, eyes widening then, when you look to the wet spot next to you. No time to think — your hands push down your wild, messed up hair, pulling them forward, fingers grazing over the sensitive spot on the side of your neck, wiping away the loose spit coating your mouth, before the door opens.
“Hey.” You say, voice scratchy, coughing instantly and you can’t help, but cringe.
The others fill the room, each carrying bags of food that hopefully hides the smell of sex in the room. Your eyes meet Felix’s, who stumbles in last, whose smile still sits on his face, but then gives you a small look of confusion at your tone. “Hey? We brought you something–“ He beams a little as he nears you, while the others come to put the food on the table that thankfully wasn’t the one before you.
The wet spot is hot beside you, a burning reminder of a still fresh memory and you really have hard time to meet the eyes of your best friend at that. “Oh…that’s nice.” You say, eyes drifting away a little, when he suddenly comes to stand before you, eyes full of worry, while yours full of shame and you feel you sick of lying to him.
“Everything good?” He asks you like the sweet friend he is, but his close proximity makes you quiver a little, but you do try to keep the smile on your face, even though you still feel the ghost of his friend’s inside you.
“Yeah-“
“Hey, why is there–“
Your heart stops, head snapping to Hyunjin, who points to the spot next to you, before drifting all the way to the floor and table, while the others come to stand around him. Your mouth opens like a fish, mind crashing to scramble to answer atleast something, when everyone turns to look, but then a voice cuts in to safe you. “Oh, I just spilled some water.” Says Jeongin and no one other than you hears the small tone at the end of his sentence.
Everyone thankfully doesn’t say anything else, but you still don’t meet their eyes, heart beating fast, when you lean over to grab the box of tissues, eyes immediately falling on the rolled up ball of used ones, sitting right on top of the still wet, glass table. “I will clean it.” You say, immediately pulling out multiple of tissues to press them against the wet spot next to you. The light and your shadow thankfully hides the true substance of the liquid and how it slides over the leather.
“Okay, we will just eat on the floor, I guess.” Says someone, you don’t even care who, you only care that Felix and the others go away a little to let you drown in your own embarrassment. You will probably never let anyone sit on the spot ever again — in a twisted, sick way you have now marked it as yours. The rooms fills with chatter and laughter again, plastic bags rustling in the silent panic you are experiencing, before pair of piercing eyes, makes you look up.
Jeongin stares at you, with a teasing glint in his eyes, that only you catch. And then — right then, he puts the exact same fingers that have been inside you into his mouth, tongue swiping across his digits, before he bites down on the tips of his fingers — a move that only highlights the crazed smile grazing his lips and by that, you already know you are in for a wild ride.
For decades, the Choi family has dominated the underground trade and criminal enterprise of Korea, and largely, Seoul. But the Choi sons start dying, until all that’s left of the empire falls to Seungcheol, the last Choi son. There is a new competitor rising to take over his territory, and Seungcheol is desperate to do anything to keep his dying empire alive.
Biting and mating with his competitor’s sister, a sheltered, treasured omega, might just be the drastic measure he has to take to keep his hold.
pairing: alpha!choi seungcheol x omega!reader
genre: omegaverse, mafia au
category: limited series
word count: 44,100
warnings: a/b/o dynamics and secondary gender discrimination, mentions of emotional/mental abuse, DUBCON elements (read at your own risk), kidnapping, imprisonment, violence, blood and character death, mention of guns and knives, lots of svt members featured but not all of them are good guys, keep that in mind, manipulation, betrayal, boy x boy, there’s some doomed yaoi in here idk how that happened tbh, angst, slightly slow burn, smut, nsfw, heats and ruts, unprotected sex, proper smut tags in relevant chapters.
a/n: so here it is, alpha cheol fic as promised! special, special thank you to my lovely @milk-moonbunnies for reading this for me and encouraging me to keep writing it, I am so grateful for your push amani xx there’s some dark shit happening here so pls be warned, but overall i love how this goes and i loved writing it, especially bec some characters are straight assholes with no redemption ㅠ I hope everyone likes this! all updates will be at 1pm GMT, just letting y’all know xx
this aroused a heavy feeling to my chest in thee best way possible, especially in the beginning 🥹❤️🩹. i will probably reread this A LOT, it's just that good.
also, i've been reading your other works too and omg i think i like like your writing :3
SYNOPSIS — in an attempt to escape your past, you join your mother when she moves in with her soon-to-be husband at the other side of the country; the only downside being your new stepbrother, who causes you to sink deeper into the rabbit hole you were so desperately trying to leave behind.
TAGS — depictions of death, dark content (stepcest + incestuous undertones), mc and jeonghan are two fucked up pervs coming together to maximize their joint slay, explicit sexual content, red hair!jeonghan, author hates her fucking writing and is a raging perfectionist, do with this information what you will!
♪ — ethel cain - family tree / charli xcx - apple / ruelle - monsters / boy harsher - pain / lana del rey - in my feelings / unloved - danger / twin tribes - monolith / banks - the fall
NOTE — title is not what u think it is i promise. do keep in mind that this is just fictional and nothing more than a silly idea i wanted to make into a story, so please (!) skip if the tags make you uncomfortable <3
PROLOGUE
when he checks her pulse to see if she’s still alive, you see a single car nearing the scene, the driver of which you then recognize as the last person that should see this.
joshua hits the brakes and hurries out of the car. “i saw you drive off like crazy, what the hell happened—”
his words are caught in his throat when he sees the body.
“shua. she’s gone.” your voice is strained as the sobs remain choked-up in your throat, your shaky hands tugging at his arm.
tears well up in his eyes. “what the—how did this happen?”
jeonghan forces himself to sound remotely shaken up. “i just drove here and she ran in front of the car. it was an accident, i swear.”
but a part of joshua doesn’t buy it. “out of nowhere? what the fuck is this, jeonghan? are you lying to me?”
“no. i swear to you—”
but he doesn’t let him finish. “this is insane. we have to do something, tell the cops what happened here, and with her brother—”
it’s then that jeonghan’s softer approach fades into something meaner. he pushes him against the hood of the car, trying to talk some sense into him. “and what do you think the cops will say, huh? you think they’ll just smile at you for fessing up and let you walk out freely? you’re an accomplice to murder, shua. everyone you know will hate you. this will haunt your name for the rest of your life ― get it into your thick skull once and for all.”
joshua’s breathing quickens with his sobs. “i can’t deal with this the way you can. i can’t do it.”
“you can, and you will.” he grabs his face, wiping the fresh tears away. “you just have to breathe, and you deny. you deny everything. you were not here, okay? i need you to go home, she and i will fix this.”
“you can’t keep making me go through this. how many more deaths do i need to have on my conscience?”
jeonghan shakes his head calmly, embracing him, his one hand on the back of joshua’s neck. “it’s not your fault, shua. it’ll be okay, promise.”
I. STRANGERS
[ SEVERAL MONTHS EARLIER ]
your mother has always had a habit of moving from relationship to relationship. the passing of your father, which happened when you were too young to remember, left her trying to find something in the men around her you highly doubted she ever would.
but that changed a few weeks ago. because apparently, she’s finally found herself a man she wants to stay with. or so she told you. you’ll have to take her word for it.
the one wish of yours she’s always respected was to keep her boyfriends away from you — the last thing you wanted was some guy trying to be a father figure, and since her frequent relationships were often short-lived, there wasn’t really a point to getting to know them. seeing as you departed from home for your freshman year of college nearly two years ago, it’s no surprise that you were barely able to keep up with your mom’s romantic life.
when you arrived home for the summer break, she told you she finally found someone she was madly in love with, happily showing off the shiny diamond sitting on her finger. her fiancé is apparently some rich man living a few hours away, in a huge house at the outskirts of the city.
she initially didn’t expect or plan for you to come live there with her, nor for you to transfer to a different university, though she figured it must’ve been because of what happened last year.
nevertheless, she was happy to have you with her.
and now, two days before starting your third year at a different school, you’re seated in the backseat of the rolls-royce with your mother, and all you can do is stare out the window while the car pulls through the tall gates.
the place is even bigger than you were expecting — a manor straight out of the movies. the last sunbeams of august shine on your face through the glass window as you gaze to the outside.
well, you suppose living here for a little while before you find your own place isn’t the worst thing in the world.
you’ve only met your mother’s future husband once prior to the engagement. you remember he introduced himself as the owner of a successful international hotel franchise. he’s not too bad, clearly doing his best to not act like a father to you whilst simultaneously trying to show you that you’re more than welcome.
once you’ve arrived and said your greetings, your mother looks around for a moment. “where’s your son? is he inside?” she asks, but her fiancé sighs in disappointment.
“no, his flight was delayed, unfortunately, so he’s staying there for the night. he’ll be home tomorrow.”
right, you almost forgot. the fiancé has a son who’s a couple months younger than you, and since university is only twenty minutes away from the house, he still lives here as well.
yeah, you’re not looking too forward to meeting the guy. your mom hasn’t met him yet either, nor do you have any idea what he looks like, but from what she’s told you, he’s around your age, wicked smart, and friendly.
as you go inside the house, you quickly realize that your mother managed to land herself a man with a massive bank account. expensive chandeliers, marble tiled floors with big carpets that don’t have a speck of dirt on them, staff that’s taking your belongings upstairs — you’re impressed.
a member of said staff shows you to your room, which could honestly be considered an apartment, given its size. aside from the spacious bed that could easily fit three people, the room is decorated with dim lighting, big glass windows with a view of the courtyard, a fireplace, and your own private walk-in closet and bathroom.
well, shit. maybe you should just ask your mom if her future husband would pay your tuition as well.
despite getting to sleep in the most beautiful room you’ve ever seen, your first night in the manor is restless, and you arrive at university with tired eyes, hoping the caffeine will kick in soon.
traffic was so shitty that you’re now running late as well, so you rush to the elevators to get to your class in time.
you have a lecture scheduled on the seventh floor, yet you don’t see the number on the display, and you don’t particularly feel like walking up a ridiculous number of stairs.
“you gotta be fucking kidding me.”
you look down at your phone to see if you got the number right, only to be greeted by a guy with dark hair and tiny silver hoop earrings standing beside you, clearly looking you in the eye. “everything okay?”
“i just—i’m new, and i gotta get to the seventh floor, and i don’t understand why this elevator doesn’t go there—”
he quickly interrupts you. “we have two elevator blocks. this one is for even-numbered floors, you need the other one. c’mon, i’ll show you.”
you walk after him, passing two corners before getting to the elevators that take you to the odd-numbered floors. he presses the button, gesturing to the free elevator about to go up.
“thanks for the help. you got a class too?”
“yeah. ninth floor, though,” he replies, smiling at you, “i’m joshua, by the way.”
joshua’s hair is neatly gelled back with one or two strands hanging out at the front. you notice his slightly red lips, strong jawline, and gentle smile.
the door of the elevator opens again, and you realize you’ve already made it to your stop.
“sorry, i gotta go. it was nice meeting you.” you tell him before getting out, failing to introduce yourself.
you faintly hear him say bye as you head into the lecture hall, a big sigh escaping you once you’re finally seated.
your first day consists of a lecture of two hours followed by a regular class of three hours. the experience of a long first day in a constantly crowded space has made you both anxious and tired, so you go outside, stumbling upon a secluded spot between the buildings you’ve had class in today.
it’s the quietest place you’ve come across so far. it allows you to take a breather, a moment to yourself in the hot mess that’s been the past couple weeks, if not months.
although you don’t smoke often, you do have a pack of cigarettes sitting in your bag — and you find yourself reaching for it. unfortunately, your lighter doesn’t really seem to be working today, and you can’t help but groan in annoyance. “fucking hell—”
“you know that’s against the rules, right?”
when you look to the side, you spot some guy standing across from you, his hands sitting in his pockets as if he’s got all the time in the world to have this conversation with you.
a snarky reply works its way out of your throat. “what, you planning to rat me out?”
he pretends to think about it for a moment. “wouldn’t be a lot of fun if i did that, right?”
all you do is shrug your shoulders as you attempt to light your cigarette again, but he suddenly stretches his arm out, holding up his own lighter to let him do it for you.
the gesture makes you stare at him from under your brows for a few seconds, but he doesn’t move a muscle, waiting for you to accept.
so you slightly lean forward, allowing him to light it, and he looks at you with a certain level of intrigue.
he’s got something interesting about him, aside from the fact that he’s ridiculously handsome. his hair is dyed in the shade of a dark red — burgundy, in this bright sunlight — where you guess his natural hair color must be a dark brown, given the color of his eyebrows.
while he’s not the tallest guy you’ve seen here so far, he still sticks out above you, his long legs and lean physique doing enough to make him appear quite tall. he wears a lazy smirk like it’s his default expression, and you’ll give it to him — if he was trying to get your attention, it worked.
he leans against the wall, watching you exhale the smoke. “i don’t think i’ve seen you around. are you a first-year?”
“there’s thousands of people attending here. of course you haven’t seen me before.”
“how straightforward of you.”
“do you prefer small talk?”
the corner of his lips curl up. “i don’t. my question still stands, though.”
“i’m in my third year. just transferred.”
“well, i guess you fit right in. this is the place where i always come to get away from everyone else.”
“is this your way of telling me i gotta go elsewhere next time?”
“took the words right out of my mouth.” the chuckle he lets out sounds low and relaxed. “no, you can come here and join me whenever you want. only if you’re good company, of course.”
you finally take the bait of engaging in the conversation with him and roll your eyes. “sorry to disappoint.”
“i doubt you’d disappoint me.”
“oh, please. you don’t even know me.”
“i do now.” jesus christ — does he always talk like that? like he knows more than you do? “but, if you want me to get to know you, you should tell me your name.”
his gaze becomes surprisingly intense in the blink of an eye, and something suddenly weighs down your body like feet glued to the floor. “i’d love to stay and chat, but i have a class to get to. i’m sure i’ll see you around, though.”
he hums in a bit of a smug way, as if he can look directly into your thoughts and see what you’re thinking. you feel his eyes burning in your back as you walk away from him, into the building, and you force yourself to regain your composure.
several hours later, just in time for dinner, you get back to the house, utterly drained.
the living room has dark walls with a few shiny brown bookcases that reach the ceiling, a comfortable sofa and several other chairs. if anything, the house is styled with rich, darker colors, creating a moody atmosphere, especially at night with the dim lighting.
your mother calls out to you once she notices you standing there. “honey, come here and introduce yourself, will you?”
she’s standing next to her fiancé, but there’s another person with them, whose back is facing you — and you suddenly spot the color of his hair.
when he turns around to face you, it feels as if the air is knocked out of your lungs.
you can’t be serious.
it’s so ridiculously cliché that part of you wants to laugh. what the fuck are the odds of the guy you met earlier today becoming your stepbrother?
though judging by the way his face falls, he was just as unaware of your identity as you were of his. not for long, of course — that damned grin is back on his face in seconds.
he takes a few steps over to you, extending his hand to formally introduce himself, as if you didn’t meet hours before. “i’m jeonghan.”
you stare at him with a deep frown but play along nonetheless, so you shake his hand, curtly saying your own name in response. he repeats it to himself with a softer voice than before, and you hate that you like the way your name sounds when he says it.
then you look down, realizing he’s still holding your hand, and you almost push him away, trying to act like his presence doesn’t affect you in any way whatsoever.
dinner goes by achingly slowly. your mother is being all social and just so damn eager to get to know her future stepson, asking him questions, clearly taking a liking towards him.
jeonghan tells her all kinds of stories, making sure to infuse his words with all the charm he’s probably got in that frail body of his. as you watch from the sidelines, you can tell he knows exactly what she’d like him to be, and he plays the role wonderfully.
well-mannered, friendly, charming, intelligent. he gives your mother subtle yet sickeningly sweet compliments and she just eats it all up.
every now and then, he glances at you, even shamelessly eyeing your chest up and down.
you hate that you’re still intrigued by him.
he asks you questions as well — small talk, of course. probably just for show. your answers are shorter than necessary, and he quickly notices you don’t feel like talking at all.
once dessert is over, you excuse yourself, saying you still have some work to do for tomorrow, and you exit the room immediately to ensure your mother isn’t able to protest.
the sound of footsteps behind you makes you quicken your pace up the stairs.
as you’re walking down the hall, heading to your room, his familiar voice pops up from behind you. “you should’ve just told me your name.”
of course he’s the one going after you.
you scoff at him. “wouldn’t have changed anything.”
jeonghan has his hands sitting in his pockets when he steps towards you. “you would’ve known who i was.”
“did you know who i was?”
“i didn’t, actually. when my dad told me i’d be getting a sister, i didn’t know what to expect.”
“sister?” the way you say it makes it sound like an insult. perhaps it is in this case. “we’re just strangers. nothing more than that.”
oh, jeonghan already likes you much more than he anticipated. there’s a certain sharpness to every single thing that comes out of your mouth ― you’re surprisingly cold. he wonders if you do it on purpose.
“such hostility.” he remarks, enjoying the fact that he’s standing so close to you.
“maybe i just don’t like you.”
“maybe. but you’re not all that talkative with my dad either, nor do you seem to plan on it.”
“so?”
“so, for someone who voluntarily came with her mom to live with complete strangers, you don’t come across as willing to bond with anyone. unless that’s not what you’re here for, of course.”
“what are you saying?”
“you’re a smart girl. if you already built a life for yourself in another place, why come here? you don’t seem ecstatic to be part of a new family.”
“i wanted the change.”
“did you?”
“yes. what does it matter?”
jeonghan won’t outright tell you he finds it strange you get so hostile when asked about your reasons for coming here. “i’m just curious.”
“has anyone ever told you it’s impolite to poke your nose into other people’s business?”
“if you’re going to hide something, at least come up with a better lie.”
waiting for you to respond, he resists the urge to bite his lip, and the two of you stare at each other for a moment, a palpable tension rising between you.
“look, i’m not hiding anything. i’m happy for my mom that she found someone she loves, but as for everything else that comes with it, you couldn’t pay me to care. so i suggest you go and play with someone who does.”
truth be told, you do sound convincing, but then he catches you eyeing his body, and he makes up his mind just like that.
the only person jeonghan wants to play with right now is you, and he’s not one to give up easily.
his voice is all sultry when he bids you goodnight. “good luck studying, sweetheart. i’ll see you tomorrow.”
as he walks away, you grab the handle of your door, but you still look at him going back down the hall, and you find yourself wondering what his room looks like, what he thinks of you ― and perhaps more importantly, what it is he’s planning.
II. BEWARE OF YOUR BROTHER
“hey. jeonghan. d’you know her?”
joshua points to the other side of the hall, at which his best friend curiously looks in said direction, only to find you standing there, typing away at your phone while looking as bored as ever.
“why?” jeonghan asks, curious as to why joshua would ask for you, since he hasn’t yet mentioned the news of his dad’s fiancée having a daughter.
“i bumped into her last week, on monday. she’s new. i introduced myself to her but didn’t get her name ‘cause she was running late for a lecture.”
well, that’s unexpected.
of course you met both him and his best friend on the same day. fate has such a way of bringing people together, it’s laughable.
jeonghan just gestures for his friend to follow him, and the two of them walk over to you, after which he greets you. “hey, sis.”
you look up at him with pure annoyance. “i told you to stop calling me that.”
“i told you i wasn’t planning on it.” he retorts with one corner of his mouth curled upwards ― he reminds you of the cheshire cat.
joshua watches the interaction with a deep frown set into his forehead. “am i missing something here?”
“the woman my dad is marrying has a daughter. daughter being her.”
the younger of the two looks wildly surprised as he processes it. “you’re gonna be his stepsister?”
“so he likes to remind me, yes.” you answer, vaguely recognizing him. “wait, didn’t i meet you last week?”
“you did, yeah. though i didn’t catch your name.”
jeonghan watches as joshua’s tone becomes even sweeter than it already is, his smile only growing bigger once you’ve given him your name.
oh.
oh, no.
the discovery that joshua thinks you’re cute flips a switch in him. you are cute, don’t get him wrong, but he doesn’t like that his friend is looking at you that way.
“well, i gotta go to class. it was nice seeing you again, though, joshua.” you smile, proceeding to shoot your future stepbrother a glare, and he’ll take any attention you give him.
as soon as you’re out of earshot, joshua hits his shoulder. “why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner? is she living with you?”
“well, i had other priorities. and yes, she is.”
“i can’t believe she’s gonna be your sister. what’s she like? she doesn’t seem to wanna be around you all that much.”
“she’s distant. keeps to herself a lot.”
“so she’s awfully similar to you, then.”
similar to him? he doubts you are.
jeonghan averts his gaze to the courtyard, absentmindedly replying, “i suppose she is.”
a few days later, your mother’s scheduled an appointment for both you and jeonghan at a clothing store in the city to get your measurements taken for the wedding.
which is why jeonghan finds himself standing outside the classroom you’re currently having a lecture in. his class ended about fifteen minutes earlier than anticipated, so he figured he could just wait for you here, since you’d agreed to go to the store together and meet your mom there.
once your class is finished, the door opens, and a huge number of students walks out of the hall, passing him by. to his surprise, though, he hasn’t been able to spot you yet.
when it seems the last students have left, he frowns to himself. just for good measure, he peeks inside the lecture hall to check if anyone’s still inside.
the hall is almost completely empty, save for you and some other girl who’s talking to you.
but there’s something off about the conversation you’re having, because it doesn’t seem like you and her are friends ― matter of fact, you look colder than ever, and he feels the harshness of your glare even when it’s not directed at him.
but then you look his way, and he realizes he spoke too soon, because you certainly don’t seem to be softening up the slightest bit.
you abruptly walk down the stairs, moving right out of the lecture hall, blatantly ignoring him as if he’s not even there.
he turns around and follows you with a chuckle. “trouble in paradise?”
“why do you care?”
“well, i like a bit of drama.”
“i’m sure you do.”
“seriously though — you’ve been here for two weeks now and already made enemies? going for a new record?”
“why the hell were you even outside my classroom? we were supposed to meet by the entrance at the ground floor.”
“my class ended early. and you’re dodging the question.”
finally stopping in your tracks, you stare at him. that cockiness in his attitude is really starting to get on your nerves.
so you grab his arm, and he looks pleasantly surprised at the way you grab him, pulling him around the corner, away from the crowded corridor.
but then jeonghan suddenly finds himself backed into a corner ― no one has ever backed him into a corner. “what are you doing?”
your fingers glide across his double-breasted blazer, and you have such a tight hold on the fabric that it almost knocks the air out of his lungs.
the expression painted on your face is unreadable to him. cold, perhaps a bit smug, but not sharp.
“you know, i’m starting to think you have a thing for me. being unnecessarily nosy about my reasons for coming here, now listening in on my conversations… i don’t like being put under a loupe,” you shrug, “i’d prefer it if you stayed away from my private life.”
“your private life? we live in the same house.”
“we do. but the thing is ― i’ve seen what you do. observing from the sidelines, watching everyone and everything. you’re not as subtle as you think you are.”
he tilts his head. this is a challenge he’s never had before, and it actually excites him in a way. because who the fuck is this girl who’s onto him and his ways?
“is being observant a bad thing?”
“not with other people, no. with me, it is.”
“you sound self-serving.”
“i am self-serving. i’m also mean, condescending, maybe even a bitch. the only reason i’m tolerating your presence is because i have to.”
jeonghan finds your self-awareness admirable. he doesn’t move from his spot by the wall you’ve pushed him against, but he does lean his face a bit closer to yours. “see, that’s the thing, sis. you don’t have to, just like you didn’t have to move here.”
fuck. he’s got you there, and it causes you to get hostile towards him again. “stay out of my private life, jeonghan.”
“we may be family now, but that doesn’t mean you can bother me as you please. everyone has secrets ― either you respect mine, or you don’t. i’m not as friendly when people pry into business that clearly isn’t theirs.”
the smug smile you have on your face is borderline provoking. it almost makes him want to pry into your business. something about the way you look at him and touch him just riles him up like nothing else.
he mirrors your expression. “are you threatening me?”
“consider it a piece of advice. it’s all your choice.” you shrug indifferently, and you shoot him a fake smile before backing away from him, heading down the hall by yourself, and jeonghan huffs, leaning his head back against the wall.
well, so much for bonding with you. he’ll admit that perhaps he’s been a bit too persistent in his teasing ― for all he knows, you could’ve been deeply unhappy back home. he should probably hold back on pushing you about your past for now. maybe you’ll even start liking him at some point. even if you haven’t shown much interest in him, he certainly finds you interesting, and he’d like to become closer with you.
and besides, he’s not one to back down from a challenge.
the ride to the store is completely silent. neither of you bother to say a word to each other, and upon your arrival, your mother happily greets you both, pushing you inside the luxurious shop. an employee smiles at you, handing you all a glass of champagne.
it’s a little early in the day, but fuck it. calming your nerves a bit would do you good.
while jeonghan gets his measurements taken, your mother tells you to pick out a few dresses you like, mainly to see what style of dress you’d like to wear to the wedding. once you’ve decided on something, you’ll be getting one custom-made, tailored to your body, all courtesy of jeonghan’s father.
eventually, once they’re done with jeonghan ― since he’s wearing a simple suit to the wedding ― he plops down on one of the soft, velvet chairs, scrolling through his phone, only putting it down when he hears you stepping out of the changing room to show the piece you’ve put on.
by the time you’re changing into your fourth dress, your mother mentions she’ll just quickly head into the bathroom, and once she’s gone, he hears you call out from inside the changing room. “mom! can you zip me up? i think it might be stuck halfway.”
he doesn’t hesitate to walk up to you, pushing the curtain to the side, but it’s only when you notice it’s him doing it that you jump in your spot.
“what the hell are you doing?” you ask with furrowed brows, and he motions for you to turn around.
“your mom went to the bathroom, so the only one currently around to fix your zipper is me.”
you scoff. “well, aren’t i lucky.”
jeonghan tells himself not to focus on your deep cleavage, so he looks down to where his hands are.
as he gently tries to get the zipper to move, since a piece of fabric seems stuck in it, he bites his lip. “i thought about what you said, and i… i think we may have started off on the wrong foot. i’ve been pestering you for… no real reason. sorry about that.”
you’re certainly surprised by the change in approach — but you’re not exactly trusting. “does this mean you’ll stop asking about it?”
“yeah, i will. promise.”
“okay. in that case, i should apologize for being a little too hostile. when something upsets me, i get mean. sorry.”
he lets out a low chuckle, finally managing to separate the fabric from the zipper. “don’t worry. i can handle a mean girl.”
his hand pushes your hair over your shoulder to avoid getting it caught before slowly zipping you up, and the sensation of his cold fingers brushing past your warm skin makes you shiver.
“turn around.” he says, and you raise your hands, not expecting him to compliment you, but jeonghan appears to be full of surprises. “this color looks pretty on you.”
with a raised brow, you say, “don’t push it.”
he laughs at your response, “i’m serious. really, you do. aren’t i supposed to be your overly honest brother?”
unfortunately, he is.
so you cross your arms. “what’d you think of the other dresses?”
“that second one was terrible. you still looked gorgeous, though.”
the comment comes so unexpected that it renders you speechless for a moment, which makes him smirk in satisfaction again.
when the curtain suddenly whips open behind him, you both turn to your mother, who appears ecstatic to hear her ever-so-charming future stepson is being so helpful to her daughter already.
which makes jeonghan figure she must’ve missed the way he’s been eyeing your curves in every single dress you’ve shown so far, just as she’s been missing how your cheeks heat up when you catch him staring at you with that glass of champagne still sitting in his hand.
it’s all you’re able to think about during the ride home, and the rest of the evening.
the house is huge, yet it feels empty when jeonghan isn’t home. he left to go meet up with some friends for dinner after you were done at the store, and you find yourself restless over the things he said today.
you have difficulty trusting people, and you probably shouldn’t trust a guy like him, yet a part of you wants to ― badly, for whatever reason.
it’s the middle of the night when you reach for your bathroom cabinet to get some aspirin, and you come to the realization that you forgot to buy a new pack, so your only option is to either suck it up or head down to the kitchen.
in a white tank top and loose-fitted sweatpants, you quietly make your way down the stairs, huffing when you see all the different cabinets you’re still not used to. it takes you a few minutes of searching until you stumble upon the drawer with medicine, and you take the new pack to smuggle it to your own room.
“what’re you doing?”
the voice behind you popping out of nowhere nearly gives you a heart attack. “jesus fucking christ―can you stop?”
“stop what? i just walked in.” jeonghan replies in the same tone, grabbing your lower arms as if to make sure you remain standing. “i thought you’d be asleep, not ransacking a kitchen drawer.”
“i was supposed to be asleep, but i got a headache. obviously.”
he watches you gesture to the strip of aspirin on the counter and lets out a noise of understanding. “want me to make you a cup of tea? it might help you sleep.”
if you weren’t so tired already, you’d let him, but you shake your head. “no, it’s fine. thanks for offering though. you had a fun night?”
“yeah. maybe you should come with next time. i’m sure my friends would like you.” he almost makes the mistake of mentioning joshua asked for you, remembering to keep that to himself.
there’s something you’re dying to ask him, and you decide to just do it, since he’s standing in front of you anyways.
“are you being this nice to me ‘cause you like me or just for the sake of your father’s marriage?”
he doesn’t reply right away, grabbing a bottle of juice from the fridge first. “my father’s been in serious relationships with other women before. i never cared much for them or their families. does that answer your question?”
“somewhat.”
“you don’t sound convinced.”
“that’s ‘cause you’re not convincing.”
jeonghan’s buttons are easily pushed, at times. you like pushing him.
he smiles to himself, averting his gaze for a moment, only looking back at you once he’s significantly closed the distance between your bodies. “i like you. a lot, actually, even though you’ve mostly just been cussing me out.”
“which you probably deserved.”
“i guess so.” he hums playfully, and you mimic his mannerisms, nearly skipping over the fact that this is the closest you’ve stood to him since meeting each other.
part of you wants him to be even closer.
then his gaze moves down, and you follow it.
even though the top you’re wearing isn’t see-through, its fabric is thin, and you didn’t put on a bra before leaving your room because you didn’t expect you’d be running into anyone, especially not him.
as soon as you realize he’s looking at your breasts, you cover your chest, immediately scolding him. “oh my god, you’re such a pervert.”
of course, he’s hardly impressed, not appearing to care in the slightest that you caught him staring. “cussing me out again? really?”
“i’m heading up to my room. don’t even think about following me.”
“well, shoot. there go my plans for the night.” he remarks, grinning at you. “sleep tight, sis.”
“yeah, whatever. night, hannie.”
hannie. that’s cute. he doesn’t think you’ve ever called him that before.
once you’re gone from his field of view, he bites his lower lip, unable to wipe that damn expression off his face as he thinks of you.
he can’t get enough.
III. WHO IS NOT WITHOUT SIN?
despite being an adult, your mother’s authority still has a hold on you sometimes.
which is why instead of being in bed all morning like you’d planned, you’re currently in a grand church, seated on a bench in the back of the spacious hall with jeonghan next to you.
your parents were adamant on sitting near the front, but when you were walking into the hall just ten minutes ago, it was jeonghan who quickly grabbed you by your arm so that you and him could sit in the back together, and you’re honestly thankful for it.
it’s only been a few weeks since he told you he’d stop bothering you with questions about your past and start being nice to you, and so far, he’s kept his promise.
you wouldn’t say you fully trust him yet, but you definitely are growing fond of him. he’s been showing you around the city, taking you out to lunch, studying with you in the library at university, and it’d be a lie to say you haven’t enjoyed every second of it.
physical touch is clearly a habit of his with people he’s close to — joshua, his father on occasion, as well as some of his other friends he’s introduced you to.
for some reason, you’re always hyper-aware when someone touches you, and you have to admit, he does a great job at easing into the physical contact. it started with some simple touches on your shoulders and upper arms, slowly but smoothly continuing, allowing his hands to sit on your waist and lower back.
and he enjoys the dynamic he has going on with you. it’s mostly lots of sarcastic comments, teasing and joking around, but there’s moments where you just quietly appreciate the other’s presence.
with a sigh, you don’t know if you’re talking to yourself, or him. “i have no idea what i’m doing here. i’m not even catholic. pretty sure my mom isn’t, either.”
“no? not a fan of monotonous singing in a cold hall on sunday mornings?”
a scoff escapes you, followed by a sarcastic quip. “such a way with words, brother dearest.”
jeonghan shrugs, as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. “maybe you should pretend to be sick next time our parents want us to tag along. i’ll have no other option but to stay home and take care of you.”
is it so wrong of him to want you all to himself?
“creative.” you mutter with a grin, simultaneously hiding the effect his words have on your body.
he only gives you that mischievous smile, looking at you from the corner of his eye, and you can’t resist the soft chuckles escaping you.
not much later, he’s sitting closer to you, using it as an excuse to whisper in your ear. “me and my dad aren’t catholic either. i’m guessing it’s just about appearances.”
“of course,” you roll your eyes, “maybe they wanna get married here and this is their way of checking it out.”
jeonghan, very selfishly, doesn’t want to think about his father and your mother getting married. he just smiles at you as a way to conceal his true feelings, and all he can think about is that he should’ve met you first, that you should’ve been his.
so he averts his gaze, attempting to focus on whatever the pastor is saying, hoping it’ll take his mind off it.
the preaching is grim and anything but welcoming. words like hell and damnation are thrown around numerous times in a speech that feels almost like it’s spoken in a foreign language, and he hates it — he hates being here.
but perhaps not as much as you do.
“we must and will all pay for our sins, one way or another—” the pastor’s voice rings through your ears. his words keep replaying in your head, and it begins to make you feel dizzy, heavy existential suffering overtaking your chest, like a loud scream being pushed down but fighting to work its way up your throat.
you have to stop thinking about it.
you have to let it go.
jeonghan takes notice of your change in body language. where you were previously hardly moving a muscle, your breathing has become irregular, chest rising and falling more visibly, and you’re digging your nails into the skin of your thigh.
what he’d do to know what’s going on in that head of yours.
he puts his hand just above your knee to comfort you, and when you look up at him with almost disturbed eyes, all you find in his gaze is — understanding.
jeonghan doesn’t know what it is you’re hiding from him, but he figures you must’ve done something wrong in your past, if this is your reaction to the speech currently being given.
but he’s done wrong too.
his palm is still resting comfortably on your bare skin, and your shaky hand reaches out for his instinctively; it feels so right. instead of letting you put your hand on top of his, he raises it to hold yours, intertwining your fingers.
when you look at him with the corners of your mouth downturned and eyes glossy, your hand clenching his like you need it as much as you need to breathe, he chooses not to give a damn whether your parents choose to get married or not.
he’ll be there for you when you need it — he’ll make you his.
the mass is over before you know it, and as you’ve just walked out of the church, you spot your mother excitedly chatting away with her fiancé, not paying you any mind.
jeonghan catches up with you and gently puts his hand on your lower back. “are you okay?”
blinking a few times, you nod, trying to sound more cheerful than you are. “yeah. it was just… getting to me, is all. i don’t know why.”
but even you know the excuse is not gonna fly with him. he knows you’re hiding something — but he refuses to press you any more than he already has. “i want you to know that… you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. but i’m here for you, okay? i want you to be happy.”
god, you could actually cry.
the words affect you, and you move to hug him, which he embraces like his life depends on it. “thanks, hannie.”
“anytime, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your shoulder, his heart racing when he realizes this is the first time you’ve hugged him like this, and that’s special to him.
the two of you hold one another for a little longer until you release him, and you loop your arm through his. “i’m drained after hearing that speech. wanna go get coffee?”
“you read my mind.”
leaving your parents behind, jeonghan takes you with him, hoping to spend the rest of his day with you.
the café you’ve just arrived at is relatively small, with a few people seated on the terrace outside and an older couple inside. jeonghan urges you to sit down at one of the tables and relax ― he figures you might like that after getting upset in the church.
with your go-to order already in mind, he goes up to the counter to order for both of you, and you’re staring at the people passing by on the sidewalk until a high-pitched shriek pulls you out of it.
“jeonghan? oh my god! it’s been so long, how are you?” the girl at the counter says cheerfully to him, and he’s pretty sure she would’ve pulled him in for a hug if it weren’t for the counter separating them. “i almost didn’t recognize you with the red hair! suits you, though.”
he gives her a polite smile in return. “i wanted the change, i guess.”
“what can i get you?”
“a regular cappuccino and a decaf, please.”
“oh, you got company?”
“girl by the window.”
her expression falters a bit. “is she your date?”
a question he’d prefer not to answer, really. she doesn’t need to know you’re the stepsister he has a massive crush on, so he just gives a vague answer like he always does. “something like that.”
she seems intrigued but refrains from asking any further questions. “alright. you got a stamp card?”
about three minutes later, he puts two cups of coffee on your table, sitting down across from you.
“thanks.” you mention, and jeonghan notices just a slight difference in your behavior. “the barista, is she a friend?”
jeonghan puts two and two together ― or so he thinks ― before taking a first tentative sip of his coffee. “her name’s bitna. we went to high school together.”
“oh, i know her name. she’s in my class, unfortunately.” you mumble mostly to yourself, but he hears it, gesturing for you to tell him more. “you remember when you saw me arguing with a girl before we went to the store a while back? it’s her i was arguing with.”
that raises questions in him. “what was she bothering you for?”
“fuck if i know. she was pressuring me about my reason for transferring, i just… i don’t know.”
“if she bothers you again, just come to me. i’ll deal with her.”
“well, contrary to how she spoke to me, she seemed pretty excited to see you.”
“well, this was our first time seeing each other in two or three years. but she’s always been… expressive.”
“ah.” you hum, averting your gaze when you take your cup, secretly cheering that she’s not some girl he’s seeing. when he taps his fingers on the surface, you watch him leaning forward over the small, wooden table.
“not jealous, are you, sis?” he asks you with a brief quirk of his brow, and you shrug.
“what should i be jealous of?”
“you? nothing. ‘cause you already have me,” he drawls, “from what a friend told me, bitna liked me when we were still in school together, but i highly doubt she still does. i mean, it’s been years.”
“you didn’t like her back?”
“nope. not my type.”
“so what is your type?”
a few strands of his dark red hair dangle before his eyelids when he looks up at you from under his brows. “i don’t know. i don’t think i’ve ever been in love.” but maybe he is now.
even though he doesn’t say the last part out loud, it’s like you can still hear it, and the way he looks at you ― god, has anyone ever looked at you like that?
the silent eye contact speaks volumes, and he moves to stick out his index finger, pointing at your cup. “i think your coffee might be getting a bit cold.”
rolling your eyes at his attempt of taking your attention off him, he just chuckles, and while you and him enjoy each other’s company, you fail to notice how the barista has barely taken her eyes off the two of you since jeonghan sat down.
two weeks pass by, and as your mother’s wedding approaches, you try to ignore the growing feelings for your stepbrother.
you thought it’d go away if you repressed it as much as you could.
which was a big mistake to think. huge.
the relationship you have with jeonghan becomes more complicated by the day. people around you, especially your parents, encourage you and him to bond like a brother and sister would, they even seem to act like you are related in that way — even though you most certainly aren’t — but whenever you’re alone with him, it’s completely different.
every touch you give each other feels more intimate, every kiss he presses to your cheek gets closer to your lips. with every passing day, the boundaries of what should be a familial connection get pushed further, the lines blurring.
and it, frankly, drives you insane.
jeonghan hasn’t directly expressed how he feels about you ― not that you have either, for that matter ― but the way he acts around you and talks to you feels like he’s definitely insinuating it, and you’re not sure how much longer you can keep it up.
but you have to, because he can’t be anything but a brother to you.
is it really that selfish of you to just want to have him kiss you? just once?
“honey, it’d be great if you could focus on standing still and upright.” your mother’s stern voice suddenly rings through your ears, shaking you awake from your thoughts.
“right. sorry.” you mutter, glancing at the dressing mirror in front of you. on your bare feet, you’re standing on a small, round display platform so the two assistants of the designer can perfectly see whether the dress you’re gonna be wearing to the wedding fits well and if it needs any adjustments.
the dark navy satin dress just about reaches your knees, and you have to admit ― you feel very pretty in it.
“the waist just needs to be stitched a bit tighter; it’ll enhance her features more.”
“i agree. we could also adjust the straps a bit.”
the assistants converse with your mother about their thoughts, and they follow her out of the living room not much later, leaving you in the same spot, admiring how the dress hugs your curves in the mirror since you’re by yourself anyways ― though not for long.
jeonghan, who’s just arrived home, peeks around the corner, and he leans against the doorframe to gaze at you, even if you’ve already spotted him.
“that dress is gorgeous on you.”
turning around to look at him, you smile at the compliment. “you think?”
he nods, taking a few steps over to you. “i do. looks like the bottom is a bit twisted, though.”
then you face forward again, to the mirror in front of you, and you watch as he’s standing behind you, feeling him tug at the fabric a little as he fixes the back of your dress.
goosebumps erupt on your arms when he suddenly touches your skin. the way his fingers slide from above the knee to your upper thigh is slow, and his voice is a lot closer to you than before.
“how does that feel?” he whispers, lips brushing past your ear, and you make eye contact with him in the mirror, your back pressed against his front.
you have to force yourself not to squeeze your legs together to give yourself some friction. the way he teases you has you aching to be touched. “feels… good.”
ironically, he needs to force himself to have self-restraint more than you do right now. he wants nothing more than to just rip that fabric off your body and get on his knees to taste you, but he can’t. he shouldn’t.
you’re the forbidden fruit, after all.
“i’ve thought about doing this since the day i met you. wrong of me, right?” he rasps, the cold metal of the silver ring sitting around his index finger causing you to shiver.
“yeah—you shouldn’t.” you tell him, yet you grab his arm and lean into his touch, allowing him to roam your body.
if anything, the way you give in to him like this only gets him hotter. “where do you want me to touch you?”
“hannie…”
the nickname has him inhaling sharply, “answer me.”
swallowing, you give him what he wants. “higher.”
your wish is his command — so he moves his fingers up higher, towards your underwear, and you let out a soft gasp, which nearly has him moaning in your ear.
then he rubs over your clothed pussy, and when you lean your head back, on his shoulder, he presses kisses all over your neck and cheek.
with a low voice, he whispers, “you’d let me have you right here, right now? when anyone could walk in?”
when you hum in response, he wonders how the hell he managed to come across a girl this perfect.
he pushes your underwear to the side and watches your lips part as he slides two of his fingers into you.
feeling you squeeze around his fingers makes him ridiculously hard in his jeans. “that’s it, pretty girl. relax for me.”
the gasps leaving your mouth are hot and erotic. hearing his breathing get louder and uneven turns you on even more, and you can only imagine the idea of having his cock inside you instead of his fingers — god, what you’d do to have him in your bed.
his eyes remain on your face. he thinks you just look so fucking pretty when your eyes roll back in pleasure, and it makes him want to drop everyone and everything just to be able to keep watching you like this.
right when he’s about to add another finger, you hear your mother’s voice approaching again, and jeonghan steps away from you, hiding his hands behind his back.
your mother looks surprised at the sight of her stepson standing near you but forgets about it once she notices your red cheeks.
“everything okay, honey? you look like you’re burning up.”
all you can do is stumble out an excuse. “yeah, i’m fine. just, uh… is it warm in here? it’s warm in here.”
she only raises a brow but continues talking to the assistants about the changes to your dress, and jeonghan subtly backs away from you, shooting you a satisfied grin.
it’s hard not to catch the smirk on his face when he leaves the room, sucking the taste of you from his wet fingers once no one but you is looking at him.
when he’s actually gone, you realize what just happened — he didn’t just make a move, he actually went as far as to touch you.
fuck.
IV. SUCCUMB TO YOUR GREED
much to your frustration, you’ve hardly seen jeonghan since he stuck his fingers in you.
he went on a trip to the other side of the country for one of his courses, which took four days, and he only got back from said trip last week. while you’ve seen him around at certain moments since his return, it’s only been briefly or when your parents were in the room.
so, to put it shortly, you pretty much haven’t talked about it.
if anything, nothing has changed in his behavior towards you. he’s still as smug and sarcastic as ever — you’d think nothing happened.
reality begins to kick in when your parents announce they’ll be getting married in a mere two weeks, and the smile you have on your face is so utterly fake that it almost hurts.
all you can think of is how much you want him to yourself.
later that night, when your parents have gone to bed, you head into the kitchen for a snack, and jeonghan stands there, downing a glass of alcohol, it seems.
he lazily eyes you as you come up to him, and you turn the bottle to read the label. “whiskey? pretty sure you shouldn’t be drinking that like you’re doing a shot of vodka.”
“i know. if i’m drinking like this, it’s to get drunk. or at least tipsy.”
“by yourself? at home? you’re not secretly an alcoholic, are you?”
he rolls his eyes with a huff, pinching at your skin, at which you laugh and push him away. “no, i’m not. just wanna stop my mind from racing.”
“is something bothering you?”
he can’t stand how pretty you look, even in the darkness of the kitchen.
“yes.”
“wanna talk about it?”
“no.” he responds, and he swears he finds something of disappointment in your features.
his sweet girl ― how could he not give in?
the glass hits the countertop with a clink when he puts it away. jeonghan moves in to kiss you with full force, his hand behind your head to make sure it doesn’t hurt when your back hits the fridge.
what kills him is that you immediately kiss him back, because this is all he wants. you.
when he pulls away, his lips are swollen and tainted with your lip balm. your hands are on the back of his neck, and he has his one hand on the side of yours, thumb sitting underneath your jaw.
your heavy breathing matches his, and you lean in to kiss him again, but he hesitantly stops you — as if he needs to restrain both of you from letting this get out of hand.
“i’m sorry.” he has to push the words out, letting go of you, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and its matching glass before disappearing from the kitchen.
in disbelief of what just happened, you can only blink, dumbfounded.
the kiss is all you can think about whenever you see him the following days. despite everything that’s happened between you when you were alone, neither of you has brought it up, nor has your behavior towards each other changed in any way.
perhaps it’s the lavish wedding your mother’s so busy with that you can barely even think about it properly. the two weeks pass by so fast that you begin to process it on the day of the event itself, and just like that, you’re standing beside jeonghan by the church’s altar, watching with a blank stare as his father says the vows you couldn’t care less about.
what you do care about, though, is how criminally dashing your stepbrother looks in his suit, which matches with your dress. you can’t help yourself, glancing at him from the corner of your eye every now and then, and when he momentarily shifts his weight from one leg to the other, he purposefully brushes past your leg.
as your parents walk down the aisle together after being pronounced husband and wife, everyone’s attention being on them, jeonghan leans down to whisper in your ear, “we’re officially brother and sister now.”
“lucky me.”
he plays with your earring for a moment until you swat his hand away. “oh, don’t act as if you don’t like me.”
“i find you highly annoying, actually.”
“whatever makes you sleep at night, pretty girl.”
he’s given you so many compliments at this point that you’re able to hide the redness of your cheeks, but it still makes you feel like a schoolgirl getting praised by her crush on the inside.
all you can do is ache for him. have you ever pined for someone like this? you doubt it.
the wedding and everything that comes with it goes by smoothly, just as planned — except for your own agenda.
maybe it was selfish of you to hope that jeonghan would touch you again during the night of the wedding.
but he still hasn’t. and it’s starting to piss you off. first he nearly has sex with you, then radio silence, then he kisses you, followed by radio silence again — and you’re planning to find out just how far you need to go to make him cave.
it’s only a week later when the perfect opportunity arises, all courtesy of joshua.
would you consider yourself a party girl? once a month, maybe. you overall like to stay in more, but you welcome the occasional night of letting loose.
you very subtly mention the event to jeonghan on purpose. “are you also going to the party one of joshua’s friends is hosting tomorrow night? i forgot the guy’s name—”
“you’re going to mingyu’s party? with who?”
oh, you definitely detect that surprise in his tone. “just a few friends from class. they asked me if i wanted to come with, and joshua asked if i came as well, so… will i see you there?”
“maybe.” he answers with a furrowed brow, leaving the room, immediately texting mingyu about the details of the party, despite having declined the invitation two days prior because he wasn’t really feeling it.
and just like that, around eleven o’clock, he finds himself getting ready for the party, cursing himself for the way you make him act.
he hasn’t seen you since this afternoon, since you told him you’d go with one of your friends after class and get ready with her.
with his hair slicked back — save for a few strands hanging in front of his forehead — and a leather jacket thrown on, he heads out to mingyu’s place.
it’s the host of the party who comes up to greet him. “jeonghan! good to see you, i almost thought you weren’t coming.”
“i’m not planning on staying long. just wanted to say hi since life’s been busy recently.”
“i met your sister. she’s nice.” mingyu says, and it feels as if a switch flips in his head.
“yeah. where is she, by the way? i actually gotta talk to her about something.”
the taller of the two points to the kitchen. “i think she was getting herself a drink.”
“alright, thanks. i’ll talk to you later, yeah?” jeonghan says, giving mingyu a squeeze in his arm, which he reciprocates.
the party started about an hour and a half ago, the room already warm and reeking of alcohol and sweat.
when he enters the kitchen, he doesn’t see you anywhere at first — that is, until you turn around.
you look like a dream. perhaps even that’s an understatement.
a tight, black satin mini-dress with a sweet-heart neckline and a gold necklace sitting on top of your exposed collarbones. your makeup suits you perfectly — you look gorgeous.
what tops it all off is that sweet smile that rises to your face as soon as you recognize him.
“when did you get here, hannie?”
“i, um…” he looks you up and down once more, almost forgetting to answer you, “just now.”
you move in to give him a quick hug, and he has to hold back from letting his hands roam too low, sucking in a breath when you press your body against his even more than usual.
“wanna do a shot with me?”
“depends on how many you’ve had already.”
“only two. i’m a big girl, jeonghan. i don’t need my brother to take care of me.”
a funny statement, considering you’d actually like him to take care of you.
“it’s not you i’m worried about, baby.” he responds, mimicking your tone and attitude, which makes you grin.
you’ve shoved the tiny glass filled with vodka into his hand in the blink of an eye, and he clinks his glass with yours before downing the bitter liquid, feeling it burning in his throat.
“that was my only alcohol for the night. i drove here,” he informs you as he’s putting the glass on the counter, “you’re coming with me after this, right?”
you push your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you think of the best way to answer him. “well, it depends.”
the tension between you grows when he looks you in the eye. “depends on what?”
“don’t play dumb.”
he’s about to say something when he catches you briefly glancing at joshua, who’s absentmindedly checking his phone at the other side of the room.
oh, hell no.
“you’re kidding, right?” jeonghan scoffs, appalled at the idea of you landing in his best friend’s bed. “him, of all people?”
you’ve come to be so comfortable with him that you don’t mind being a little spiteful. “what? he’s cute.”
“i don’t care if he is,” he gets closer to you, his tone lower and sterner than before, “he’s my closest friend.”
“so? he doesn’t seem to mind that i’m your sister. besides, plenty of girls have a thing for being with their brother’s best friend, and vice versa. what’re you gonna do about it?”
jeonghan’s frustration suddenly dies down like a fire being put out, because he’s finally realizing what you’re doing, and his cockiness comes right back to his features. “you don’t even like him like that. you’re just trying to provoke me.”
well, shit. there goes plan a.
“no i’m not.”
“you definitely are.” he smirks gleefully, knowing damn well he’s right.
“i like joshua enough to let him give me a fun night.”
he has to dig his nails into the palm of his hand to stop himself from saying he’d give you a better one, but a part of him doesn’t think you’ll go as far as to go home with joshua.
“if you say so. have fun, sweetheart.”
“i will.” you tell him, leaving him by himself in the kitchen, and he rolls his eyes.
being at this party is slowly but steadily pissing him off. he can’t have fun or focus on anyone or anything else as long as you’re in this room, knowing you’re preparing to make use of joshua’s little crush on you. and to what end? to make him jealous?
he figures this, in a way, is the result of his own actions. he’s been sending mixed signals towards you about his feelings. the stunt he pulled at your dress fitting was uncharacteristically impulsive of him, as was that late-night kiss in the kitchen, and it’s not that he doesn’t want you like that ― it’s that he can’t.
or shouldn’t.
after two hours of unbearable small talk and several glasses of non-alcoholic beer, jeonghan decides he’s had enough. he will be taking you home tonight, one way or another.
from the other side of the room, he watches joshua lean closer to your face just to say something in your ear over the loud music — and he’s touchy. shua only gets touchy with those who are either friends, family, or people he wants to pursue.
a raw sense of possessiveness begins to swirl in his gut, the feeling of it reaching the tips of his fingers.
envy is a rare thing for jeonghan. usually, he’s the one people are envious of, as arrogant as that may sound. it’s not something he brags about, really.
but when he’s envious, he gets selfish. a little manipulative, even, if necessary to get what he wants.
so his legs move to get to you before joshua can do anything he doesn’t approve of, but then someone calls out his name.
“jeonghan? hey!”
he turns his head to find the last person he cares about right now. matter of fact, he really doesn’t want to talk to her, since she’s bothered you a while ago, yet out of good manners, he doesn’t show it, remaining somewhat friendly. “bitna. nice to see you again.”
the girl smiles a little too brightly at him for his liking. “are you in a hurry? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“no, i just… it’s nothing.”
while his head is spinning from sheer jealousy, he’s about to walk away from bitna when she speaks up again.
“i actually wanted to ask you something.” just the mere sound of her voice makes him press his lips together out of annoyance ― is it not obvious to her he has other matters to attend to?
“you do?”
“look, i, um… i’ve liked you for a while now, and i was just wondering if you wanted to… go out with me sometime?”
the confession falls on deaf ears, since jeonghan can only focus on the fact that his best friend is making a move on you across the room. “i’m—i’m sorry. i can’t really talk right now. see you later?”
bitna lets out a baffled scoff when he pushes past her to walk to the other side of the room, and she begins to get a faint idea of the reason behind his hasty behavior when she notices him approaching you and joshua, and she watches the interaction from afar like a hawk.
jeonghan runs a hand through his half-long hair and walks over to you, one hand on joshua’s shoulder and the other on your upper arm, as if greeting two friends.
“there you guys are. been looking all over for you.” he puts up a smile relatively naturally to appear convincing.
joshua, with a drink still in hand, looks a little bummed that his best friend had to come over to interrupt the conversation, but his fondness for him quickly returns.
“ready to go?” jeonghan turns his attention to you, and you have a hard time keeping your balance.
“already? i just got here, hannie!” you exclaim, your usual calm and quiet demeanor replaced by an outgoing and giggly one. he thinks it’s cute to see the effect alcohol has on you, though he doesn’t think you’re drunk, just very tipsy.
“i know, i’d prefer to stay too, but i promised your mom i’d get you home at a… somewhat reasonable hour. got the family gathering in the morning, remember?”
honestly, you can hardly even call it a gathering. you simply made the deal you’d be home to see your parents off before they go on their honeymoon, and it’s a perfect excuse to take you home now ― though you certainly could refuse him. if you wanted to.
but jeonghan knows better. you want only one person here, and it’s not joshua.
you let out an exaggerated huff. “fuck, i forgot.” but even in your less-than-sober state of mind, your infatuation for your stepbrother floods your senses, and you desperately want to be around him, ready to leave everyone and everything behind.
so you take a step towards him, nearly losing your balance, yet he catches you with ease. for someone appearing on the frail side, he’s actually a lot stronger than you’d think.
he puts his arm around your waist to ensure you don’t fall, and you happily wave at his best friend, who’s still standing beside you. “bye, shua.”
his friendly smile briefly returns to his face at your sweetness. “bye. drink some water when you get home, okay?”
you nod, walking out of the place with jeonghan’s arm still around you.
the road back home is quiet, and a bit of a blur to you, if you’re honest. he helped put your seatbelt on when you were struggling with the buckle and proceeded to force you to down an entire bottle of water, which you did with a pout.
with barely suppressed laughter, you and jeonghan walk up to the front door of the manor, and he has to constantly shush you to keep it down so your parents don’t wake up.
the house is completely quiet, save for the creaking of the chandelier above the stairs in the main hall. he guides you up until you finally make it to your room, where you let yourself fall onto the bed with a loud thud, eliciting a snort from him. “nope. to the bathroom you go.”
“ugh, to do what?”
“to drink some water, brush your teeth, et cetera. c’mon.”
“but ‘m so tired, hannie.”
“i know, baby. i’ll help you.” he coos, and your heart beats just a bit faster at the nickname.
so he helps you up and gets you to the bathroom, holding your jaw to brush your teeth. he’s awfully focused on the task, and you’re just staring at him the entire time, causing him to laugh.
“staring is rude.”
“maybe i am rude.”
he laughs again. “sure.”
you spit the toothpaste out in the sink and finally get some water in your system, and it feels like the sobering up of your senses is already happening.
it doesn’t make you act any less bold, though.
when he wants to say goodnight, you grab his arm. “wait—can you just—help me with one last thing?”
“what?”
“my dress. it’s so fucking tight that i barely got it on myself, my friend helped put it on. please?”
he looks down at the dress and back up at your face, and either you’re playing him to get him to undress you or you’re genuinely clueless.
but jeonghan tells himself he can do this. “turn around.” his voice is a bit lower than before, and you shiver at his tone before doing as he says.
the faint sound of the laces slowly being undone brings goosebumps to your skin, and you know it means he’s looking at the now visible clasp of the lacy black bra you’re wearing underneath the dress.
“were you hoping to impress someone with this tonight?” he somehow still manages to sound sweet despite the snark in his attitude. “joshua?”
it makes you look at him over your shoulder. “he’s cute. just… not really my type.”
he chuckles to himself, your back still facing him. “yeah, i could’ve told you that.”
you beat around the bush just for the sake of doing so. “why? how would you know what my type is?”
as he moves on to the laces covering your lower back, he pulls on them a little harder than before. “it’s unlike you to play the fool. especially with me.”
all you can do is scoff.
once he’s reached the last lace, he glances at your body for a moment before backing away from you. “change into some comfortable clothes and get some sleep, alright?”
with the dress still on, you turn around to face him again. “are you serious?”
“what?”
“you bring me home early as soon as your best friend is about to kiss me, and now you’re just not gonna act on your feelings? all of that for nothing?”
“not for nothing,” he says coolly, tilting his head, “i made sure joshua didn’t get to make his move on you.”
honestly, you’d be pissed off at him if you actually liked shua in that way. what does piss you off, though, is that he won’t make a move on you.
“i could always call him,” you suggest, though you wouldn’t act on it, but he doesn’t need to know that, “maybe he’ll give me what you won’t.”
but as always, jeonghan sounds unfazed. always the smartest guy in the room. “he’s too sweet for you. a good catholic kid. he probably wouldn’t even know what to do with you.”
“like you would.”
“i think we both know the answer to that question.”
“oh, please. you barely even touched me.”
“true. but you must’ve enjoyed it, since you’re here, asking for more.”
“and what’s stopping you from giving me that?”
“we’re family now.”
“says the guy who calls me baby and kisses me on the lips,” you scoff, making it your mission to get him to give in.
so you shrug off the dress that was loosely clinging onto your body to drop it to the floor, and the second he lays eyes on the lacy lingerie, you know he’s practically done for.
“it’s simple. say you don’t want me, and i’ll let it go.”
there’s something charming about his brain short-cutting now that you’re standing in front of him like this, and you’re backing him into the corner so easily. “sweetheart―”
“have you thought about it, since you touched me? having me like this?” you interrupt teasingly, and when he doesn’t say anything, you can’t help but smile in realization. “oh my god, you have.”
he’s clearly doing his best to maintain the untouchable persona, but even you see the truth. “it doesn’t change anything.”
you want him to act out for once, see what’s underneath that exterior. something about him makes you want to be bold — yet completely you.
so you reach behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra, and he has to swallow to keep it together.
if anything, he’s a bit baffled. he didn’t expect you to undress right here, right now, in front of him. but you just do it, looking as confident as ever.
with two small steps forward, you put your hands on his chest to push him back on the chair behind him. his breath hitches, and he tries to hold you back, failing to sound convincing in the slightest. “we shouldn’t.”
“you touched me first. you started it.” you shrug, moving to sit in his lap, and he does his best to focus on anything but your bare chest.
“i know that, but… i can’t. regardless of how much i want to.” he breathes out while your hands move from his cheeks to the back of his neck.
“i wore this set for you, y’know. just like that dress. hell, why do you think i even went to that party?”
oh.
oh.
sure, he figured you messed with joshua on purpose to rile him up — but he didn’t think you’d planned the whole night like this.
it’s something he would do, and a certain sense of pride rushes through him.
he makes the mistake of looking down where your nearly naked body grinds against his clothed crotch, and it makes him sick.
because the feeling of it is so much better than it already was in his wet dream.
“if i fuck you now—” he inhales sharply with his hand trembling on your lower back, “it won’t end there. i’ll want you again, and again, and again.”
it’s the only reason he hasn’t given in fully yet, something he realized after touching you the way he did and nearly getting caught.
he likes you more than he’s ever liked anyone, you’re addictive to him, and he knows that once he crosses this line with you, it’s over for him. he’ll want nothing more than to be with you, to fuck you and love you and have you be his.
even more than he already does.
“did you think i wanted this to be a one-time thing?” you ask, putting your hands on his jaw. “fuck me, hannie. please.”
jeonghan takes one look at your eyes and decides to say goodbye to that last thread his honor was hanging onto.
your kiss is gentler than anticipated. perhaps it’s because this is the first time you both fully get to savor it, taste it ― it’s so sickeningly sweet that he almost forgets you’re practically naked on top of him, while he’s still fully clothed.
he shrugs his jacket off with ease, throwing it onto the floor, your lips on his again before he can comprehend it. his hands roam all over your body, his breathing speeding up as his kisses trail down your jaw, to your neck, the sensation of his tongue on the skin by your collarbone making you feel weak.
with your legs around him, he gets up from the chair and puts you down on your bed. “i didn’t get to make you cum last time, so i should probably finish that, right?”
“but i want―”
“i know what you want.” he cuts you off, removing his shirt, smirking to himself when you shamelessly stare at his abs. “i’ll give it to you, but i wanna taste you first.”
he gets on the mattress in just his jeans, the waistband of his underwear peeking out from the top of his pants, and you like the sight of his bare chest.
unlike his usual patient self, jeonghan refuses to waste any more time. the way he acts isn’t rushed, but he’s got a certain hunger clawing at his chest that’s fighting to get out ― and it only really wants one thing.
your hands quickly reach out to grab his dark red hair once he’s got his head between your legs, his fingers firmly clasped on your thighs. he’s greedy, mouth and nose buried in your wetness.
“fuck—jeonghan—”
it’s when he hums in satisfaction that your eyes roll back. you prop yourself onto your elbows to watch him run his tongue over your pussy, savoring the taste of you.
the sheer emptiness in your gut while you’re getting wetter by the second is driving you insane. you’re clenching around nothing, aching to be filled up, and he’s so mean for not doing so already.
his lips latch onto your clit, and you inhale sharply, your hold on his hair even harder than before, making him moan. he’s rubbing his clothed cock against the mattress while his hands and mouth are on your body, and he’s close to feeling fucking ecstasy.
when he comes back up for air, he’s breathing heavily, moving upwards to kiss your stomach. you take his wrists to bring his hands up to your breasts, and he’s almost hypnotized by your greed.
“fuck, hannie, ‘m so wet—just take me. please?” you beg, and he just can’t help it; he can’t refuse you.
he sits up on his knees to unbutton his jeans, fingers trembling in anticipation as he watches you glance at him.
shrugging off the last of his clothes, he reaches for the condom he’s got sitting in his wallet, rolling it on swiftly. he almost laughs at the way your eyes follow his every move.
“put your legs up.” he mutters, and you mindlessly follow his command, feeling the warm buds of his fingertips on your calves as he puts your legs over his shoulders.
jeonghan pushes into you slowly and gently, allowing you to adjust. you bite your lower lip with a soft grunt while your heat wraps around him.
your hands immediately reach for him, and he enjoys the feeling of your hands on his skin.
“i can’t believe you orchestrated this whole night. were you thinking about this when you nearly kissed my best friend?”
all you can do is let out a playful laugh. “would it be so terrible if i said i was?”
“a little. but i like terrible,” he shrugs casually, and you force yourself not to get caught up in the silver chain dangling above your face.
it’s then that you realize it’s a cross necklace.
the irony of it makes you chuckle, and jeonghan catches you staring at it, his eyes lighting up dauntingly.
“to think our parents got such a wonderful wedding in that church, and all i wanted was to fuck you right then and there,” his fingers dig into your thighs as he keeps his pace slow but deep, teasing you to no end, “i fucking knew you wanted me too. decided to make me jealous just to get me to fuck you — so dirty.”
“you’re the one fucking your sister—”
“says the girl who begged to be fucked by her brother,” he moves his hips harder, making you moan, “but don’t worry, baby. i don’t judge.”
he’s awfully cocky about the situation, which you do think is hot, but it also riles you up.
completely taken aback when you flip the two of you over, he’s suddenly got you sitting on top of him, and you’re shaking your head. “don’t start things you can’t finish, hannie.”
the lazy smirk he always sports falters when you slowly rock back and forth, his cock twitching inside you.
“fine. then you should finish it,” he mutters breathily, failing to come across as smug as usual, giving you full control to do whatever you want with him.
he hisses through gritted teeth when you clench around him, his hands finding their way to your hips.
“oh, fuck.” he grunts, briefly closing his eyes in pleasure, and you think it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. “you feel so fucking good, baby.”
as his breathing begins to quicken, he circles your clit with his thumb, causing you to shudder on top of him.
“shit! don’t—don’t do that, not yet—”
“i want you to cum around me. you can do that, right?” he urges you, feeling close to begging you simply because he wants to see your face and feel your body shake on him.
humming a response, you move your hips faster, trying to give him what he wants while simultaneously chasing your own high.
“oh my god, jeonghan—”
“that’s it, baby. doing so well for me.”
his praise is enough for you to hit your climax, your thighs trembling beside him, and the tightening of your muscles hits him to the point it makes him hit his peak as well.
once you’ve come down from it, he flips you over, going right at it again and again, until it’s deep into the night and you’re both spent.
your head lies comfortably on his chest, trailing his warm skin with your finger.
he’s softly stroking through your hair. “i can’t believe you did all of that. poor joshua became collateral damage.”
“you don’t sound like you care that much.”
“he’ll get over it.”
“you’re so mean.”
“hey, you took part in it too, sweetheart.”
“ugh, you’re right. you know, maybe i should go to the church. commit to the catholic confessions and all that.”
jeonghan scoffs. “what would you even say?”
you shrug, the sarcasm dripping from your words. “forgive me father, for i have sinned. i was at this party, and this guy who likes me was about to make a move on me, but i pretty much just left him by himself to go home with my evil stepbrother, who then proceeded to rail me into another dimension—”
“since when am i evil?”
“since the day i met you, if not long before.”
he laughs at the irony of it. “perhaps.”
V. FAMILY TREE
life is surprisingly good when you’re in a secret relationship, jeonghan finds.
whenever your parents are asleep, he quietly moves to your room, slipping under the covers to find you naked and wet and aching for him. he’ll have his hand under your jaw as he buries himself inside you to the hilt with slow, deep strokes.
at breakfast, while your parents are completely oblivious, jeonghan has to fight the urge to smirk, knowing he was inside you a mere hour before.
the sex is ridiculously good ― but he feels as if you’re still closed-off to him. that distance that he felt in those first weeks of being around you has decreased, but it’s still there. he wants nothing more than to be trusted with whatever’s clearly on your mind, but he figures you don’t. not completely.
as jeonghan repeatedly knocks on your door to get you to hurry up for your trip to the cinema, he’s suddenly greeted by your mother walking down the hall, motioning for him to come over to her, away from your door.
“jeonghan,” your mother says softly, “i wanted to thank you for taking such good care of my daughter. she seems… happier, these days. she’s fond of you.”
the heartfelt words make him smile genuinely. “i’m fond of her, too. she’s good company, and i… well, i’ve never had a sister, so…”
“it’s wonderful to see you two get along so well, especially after last year. she was so torn up about it.”
“last year?” he asks, confused.
your mother in turn looks confused as well. “she hasn’t told you?”
“no, i don’t think so.”
she looks behind her for a second to check if the hallway is still empty, proceeding to speak in a more hushed tone. “oh, it was terrible. one of the girls who was a member of her sports team fell to her death while they were all gathered at a party together. the police officers weren’t on the scene quick enough, so all the girls saw the body, and the blood... it took a toll on her, she cuts me off whenever i try to talk to her about it. but since moving here, i suppose she’s gotten the fresh start she needed.”
well, that’s an interesting twist, to say the least.
how traumatic that experience must’ve been for you ― he doesn’t know why you wouldn’t tell him something like that. do you really not trust him at all?
when he takes you out to the city just five minutes later, he pretends not to know a thing about your mother’s words to him. he’s eager to wait and see when you’ll open up.
it takes you several weeks more to do so. you’re in his room, and he’s laying down on his back while you’re on your stomach next to him, pushing yourself up on your elbows, fiddling with your fingers. “do you think what we’re doing is wrong?”
“million-dollar question, isn’t it?” he shrugs while looking up at the ceiling. “it feels good to us. why would it be wrong?”
“everyone would disapprove. our parents would probably disown us, one might argue it’s even, you know… morally wrong.”
he blinks at your words slowly, voice slightly gentler than before.
“perhaps you should start looking at things differently. y’know, i ask myself a certain question sometimes.” jeonghan finally meets your gaze, and it’s almost hypnotic. “who will you be when no one can stop you?”
“and what’s your answer?”
“as for me — someone who doesn’t live by the rules. i live my life however i want. if that means doing something other people consider to be ‘wrong’… so be it.”
“how far would you take that? how wrong?”
“as wrong as you want it.”
he notices your breathing quicken. his eyes flick down to your collarbone before moving back up again. your hand faintly brushes past his, and he goes out of his way to put your hand on his chest, so utterly desperate to have that intimacy with you at every possible opportunity.
“can i ask you something, hannie?”
“always.”
“would you still like me if i said i was guilty of something?”
jeonghan refrains from making a playful comment when he takes notice of the seriousness in your tone, like you’re about to confess something. “what’re you guilty of?”
“i…” your breath hitches in your throat, and your impulsivity fails you, “no, forget i said anything.”
that’s when he turns his head to look at you. “hey, don’t do that. you can tell me anything.”
“i want you to still like me, jeonghan.”
he feels genuinely touched that you value the bond you two have as much as he does. “sweetheart, you could tell me you’re secretly the head of a drug cartel and i’d still like you. c’mon, tell me.”
you fiddle with his fingers to avoid looking at him, but you do begin to open up. “last year, i was a member of the university hockey club. i was close with a couple of my teammates, but not all of them. in february, there was a party on campus to celebrate the nearing end of the sports season, just like every year.”
jeonghan can almost see your throat tightening up. your struggle is so utterly visible that it makes him grow worried.
but he stays quiet.
“at a certain point that night, it was so hot inside that i went up to the rooftop to get some fresh air, since we were high up in the building with the party. about ten minutes later, one of my teammates also came up to the roof. we hated each other’s guts since the start. it was pretty obvious that she had too much to drink, but she began to just… talk shit to me, saying the team was better off without me and other teammates i was close with, and i got riled up, ‘cause i knew she didn’t like me at all. so our fight eventually became physical ― she tried to claw at my hair and face, and i pushed her away from me in the heat of the moment, i didn’t see that she was standing at the edge until she…”
he finishes the sentence as you refuse to do so yourself.
“until she’d already fallen to her death.”
you nod as a confirmation, and he finally manages to catch your gaze, a pair of glossy eyes staring back at him.
all kinds of questions run through his head. “what happened afterwards?”
“hannie…” you softly protest, heart crumbling with every word that comes out of your mouth, because it makes you feel so fucking vulnerable ― you can’t bear the thought of him leaving you or judging you.
he hums, tilting your chin upwards so you keep facing him. “no, baby. tell me.”
the nickname rolls off his tongue so naturally that you nearly miss it. “everyone who was there that night was questioned. there were no cameras, no witnesses, everyone knew she had a problem with alcohol… so i… i just said the same as everyone else. i lied. when the police ruled it an accident, everyone believed it.”
“it was.”
“except it wasn’t, because i pushed her.” you bury your face in your hands for a moment. “the shock hit me so hard that i went to the bathroom and threw up everything i ate that night. but once it wore off, i just… i didn’t feel guilty. i don’t care that she fell to her death ― it was unfortunate but bound to happen. and that’s what scares me, ‘cause i’m―i’m supposed to feel guilty about this, right? what kind of shitty person am i that i just don’t feel that? what the fuck is wrong with me?”
everything suddenly falls into place. the threatening arguments you had with bitna, the way you nearly had a breakdown at the church, the distance you’ve been so eager to keep since the day you stepped foot in this place.
this is what you were trying to run away from by coming here.
you don’t feel guilty because you pushed a girl plummeting to her death ― you feel guilt because you simply can’t bring yourself to care.
“did you want to push her?”
“jeonghan.” your tone is close to hostile, but his calm demeanor somehow pushes through.
“answer the question.”
“i—”
the stumble of an answer makes him smirk, and his face inches closer to yours, not allowing you to try and give the answer that’s clearly not the truth. “you did. you’re glad she’s dead.”
“stop. just stop.”
“you’re just saying this because you feel obligated to, not because you mean it. tell me how you really feel. i won’t judge you.”
every word coming out of his mouth tears you open little by little, exposing your biggest secret and darkest thoughts. but if he’s already deducted it — why not tell him?
it’s like you hit an internal switch. the stress begins to leave your features like he’s never seen before.
he finds it intriguing.
you finally give in and tell him the truth. “okay, fine. i hated that bitch to the bone, and i’m glad she’s dead. but i guess i still have some level of guilt, because now that i’ve done what i did… what kind of person does that make me?”
jeonghan flinches. he’s heard those words before — in his own head.
he wants to tell you that it makes you a lot more like him than he thought, to the point that it almost scares him. you’ve just trusted him with your darkest secret, yet he’s afraid to trust you with his.
what would you think of him? would you still want him the way he wants you?
“it makes you someone who had no choice. she was drunk, looking to start a fight, and you defended yourself.”
“do you really believe that?”
“i do. good and bad are a matter of perspective, and i believe you did the right thing. you’ll let go of that guilt with time. trust me.”
finally telling someone what you’ve had on your chest for so long is freeing, and he hardly appears as repulsed as you’d imagined him to be.
your voice becomes smaller. “but what if i don’t?”
“then i’ll help you. you’re my sister; i’ll take care of you, always.” he promises you, intertwining his fingers with yours, and you don’t know how to respond at first, solely because you don’t think you’ve ever been loved like this ― unconditionally.
with his free hand, he gently runs his hand through your hair, and it’s like you can finally relax now that you know jeonghan sees you as you are and cares for you just as much as before.
“thank you, hannie.” you mutter, laying your head down on his chest, and he presses a kiss on top of your head.
“anytime, sweetheart.”
his shoulders sink in relief under you. all he wants is the people he cares for to put their faith in him, and you’ve just proved you trust him with everything you have.
with you on his mind and in his arms, he drifts off into a deep slumber.
it’s remarkable how your parents remain completely oblivious of everything that’s been going on right underneath their noses. there’s been a few close calls, but nothing serious.
the last thing you expected after opening up to him was for you to grow even closer than you already were, yet that’s exactly what happened.
jeonghan has been particularly insatiable over the course of the past weeks. being all handsy, urging you to stay in his bed a little longer in the mornings, begging you to let him bury his head between your legs when he’s already done so several times — whatever’s in his system these days, it is strong.
not that you’re complaining.
being so comfortable with each other apparently also means pushing limits; the limits to possibly being caught, that is.
pushing his fingers inside you underneath the table when you’re having lunch with your parents, sneaking off into an empty classroom at university, showering together despite everyone being home ― the list goes on. there’s something thrilling about the idea of indulging in something you know you shouldn’t.
one line you haven’t crossed yet is slipping away from a charity event hosted by jeonghan’s father, though it seems that’ll be changing tonight.
jeonghan wasn’t planning on fucking you while the guests are still here, in his own home ― but you just look so gorgeous in that dress, and his jealousy is slowly but steadily going through the roof with every man coming up to you, clearly eyeing your dangerously low neckline.
as you’re heading to grab a new glass of champagne, you’re greeted by your dear stepbrother, and you’ve come to know him well enough to recognize that smug expression painted on his face.
“no.” you immediately tell him, and he huffs.
“oh, c’mon. you’re so not having fun right now.”
“can’t we just wait until everyone’s left?”
“on the contrary. this is the perfect timing.”
“yeah, for you, i bet. are you all hot and bothered, hannie?”
“i am, and you’re the only one who can fix it.”
the sarcasm might as well drip from your tongue. “wow, i feel so flattered.”
while your full attention is on jeonghan, and his attention is on you, neither of you are aware that joshua, who was invited alongside his parents, has been staring at you two since jeonghan approached you.
truth be told, joshua’s had the idea something was off about your dynamic that first moment he ever saw you interact with him, in the hallway at university.
jeonghan has never looked at anyone like he looks at you — full of intrigue, full of longing for something he can’t quite put his finger on. which he dismissed at first.
in spite of their close friendship, there is a certain barrier between them. there’s certain lines joshua won’t cross that jeonghan most definitely will, and perhaps he’s found his match in you.
but he still assumes that the relationship you have is platonic. surely it has to be.
only with each passing day, he begins to doubt that.
he’s itching to find out how you are with each other when you’re alone, and it’s a terrible thing to listen in on a conversation, but he wants this. desperately, for whatever reason.
he can’t help himself when he notices you going after him. following you from a distance, he quickly recognizes the room you head into is jeonghan’s.
the walls prove relatively thick, and his attempt to listen in from the outside fails, because he can’t hear anything.
so he blames the three glasses of champagne he downed earlier for making him go on with hasty decision-making as he quietly pushes the door handle down, not planning on actually entering the room, only having the door ajar.
jeonghan’s room is as big as a spacious apartment, so it’s no surprise joshua doesn’t see you anywhere at first.
it’s relatively quiet, with the crackling fireplace making the most noise, and he’s about to turn away from the door when he hears your voice in the background.
“you’re so impatient.”
then there’s jeonghan’s voice. “sue me.”
it remains somewhat quiet after that, until joshua hears noise he can’t make anything out of.
his curiosity gets the better of him, so he takes a few steps forward, peeking around the corner — only to find you together on top of the bed with messy hair and hands all over each other.
he’s taken aback with eyes blown wide as he watches the girl he likes half-naked and writhing underneath his best friend.
he hates how pretty you both look with the light of the fire reflecting on your skin.
jeonghan is completely caught up in the feeling of your heat around him when he throws his head back, but then he catches movement near the corner — and suddenly the two of them lock eyes.
of course he sees how borderline horrified joshua looks at the scene in front of him; he just can’t bring himself to care.
if anything, he simply ensures you keep your head turned the other way while burying himself deeper inside you, shooting his friend one of his classic lazy grins. your moans are the last thing joshua hears before he blinks to himself, leaving the room, nearly stumbling over his own feet in the process.
and jeonghan can only let out a satisfactory chuckle to himself, continuing to fuck you as if he didn’t just catch his best friend staring at the two of you.
matter of fact, it’s not until several days later that he sees him again, at university.
the hallway is as good as empty when joshua shakes his head at the sight of him. “i don’t wanna talk to you.”
“no? why’s that?”
shua grits his teeth. “how long has this been going on between you and her?”
“not long before our parents got married.”
“that’s several months.” he exclaims with his face even more horrified than before. “why the fuck would you hide something like this from me for so long?”
“why would i tell you at all, shua?”
a pang of hurt shoots through joshua’s chest, and he presses his lips together. “because i liked her.”
“and how was i supposed to know that?”
“you always know these things before i know them myself. don’t tell me you weren’t aware.”
jeonghan catches the hurt in his voice and decides to tone things down. “you’re right. i knew how you felt. i guess i didn’t know how to tell you.”
“look, whatever you’re doing with her needs to stop.”
well, so much for toning things down. he thinks he much prefers being clear and forward instead. “no it doesn’t.”
“jesus christ — you’re fucking your stepsister, jeonghan! how can you be remotely normal about this?”
where joshua’s anger rises, all that surges through jeonghan’s body is pride.
yeah, perhaps the whole thing should make him feel ashamed instead of boosting his ego, but it’s not like he hasn’t already crossed the line of what is and isn’t right. what’s the harm in going even further?
“i’m normal about it ‘cause i like doing it,” he shrugs, hardly attempting to hide his enjoyment, “we’re both adults. we already were when we met several months ago, we weren’t raised together, we’re not related in the slightest. so what does it matter?”
“oh, c’mon. she’s family to you now.”
“true. but i don’t care if i have to break up my father’s marriage for this, shua. she’s mine, one way or another.”
“is it just physical?”
“you’re asking me if i love her?” he nods for a moment, admitting how he feels about you. “i do. a lot. i don’t think i’ve ever felt this way about anyone else.”
that certainly puts a halt to joshua’s snarky comments for the time being. jeonghan is not the type of person to say something like that easily, which also means that no matter what he says, his best friend is not planning on giving you up anytime soon.
but joshua feels hurt ― so he’s going to test that love jeonghan harbors for you, even if it means stooping lower than he ever thought he would.
it’s silent, briefly. he leans closer to his face, narrowing his eyes. “does she know what you did?”
jeonghan’s blood runs cold at the sentence alone. his entire demeanor changes like the flip of a switch ― his lips are pressed together in sheer anger, and he visibly has to hold back from shoving his best friend against the wall. “the fuck did you just say to me?”
“she deserves to know.”
“oh, so now is the moment you suddenly have morals again? what happened to ‘taking it to the grave’, huh?”
“i don’t care what you do, it’s not my secret to tell. but like you said, she’s your family. if you two care about each other so much, then she should know.”
“shua, i value our friendship, which is why i won’t cuss the shit out of you right now, but this is not your business to meddle with. we keep this between us, just like we promised back then. got it?”
“sure.” the sound of joshua’s humorless chuckle rings through his ears. “you know, i used to wonder when you’d finally break. when the burden of what you did might get too much for your conscience. but eventually i realized that’s never gonna happen, because that conscience i thought you had? it doesn’t fucking exist.”
with those words, his best friend leaves him behind. jeonghan has to take a second to comprehend what just happened ― hell, he’s still not sure he heard it right.
neither joshua nor jeonghan are aware that you’ve been listening in on nearly the whole conversation from the other side of the corner, and you’re left asking yourself if you made a mistake trusting jeonghan with your secret.
because he clearly doesn’t trust you with his.
VI. WHEN PUSH COMES TO SHOVE
jeonghan stares at the screen of his laptop with a hollow chest and overflowing thoughts.
truth be told, he doubts he’s ever felt this vulnerable.
ever since his falling out with joshua two weeks ago, life has been particularly shitty. his best friend still isn’t speaking to him, and you’ve suddenly started to distance yourself from him too, for whatever reason.
he’s pretty sure he’s going insane. it’s not like he said something to offend you, and you don’t even appear to be angry with him at all ― you’re still as lovely as ever, except you keep yourself far away from him.
every time he’s tried to talk to you, you managed to worm your way out of it, leaving him no choice but to speak to you when you’re about to go to bed.
“you’ve been avoiding me.”
as you’re taking your earrings out in front of the mirror, he watches you raise your brows in annoyance. “yeah, i have.”
“have i done something to upset you?” he hesitantly asks with a gentle voice and big eyes, and you almost begin to feel bad because of it.
you consider denying it and brushing it off but decide not to. “i overheard your conversation with joshua.”
he digs his nails into the palm of his hand. fuck.
“right.”
“that’s it? no witty remark?” you shrug, and jeonghan doesn’t miss the sharp edge to your words.
when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. it’s rare for him to be speechless, but he simply doesn’t know what to say to you.
it makes you even more annoyed than you already are. “you’re not going to tell me about the little secret you share with him, are you?”
he shoots you an apologetic look. “i can’t. i’m sorry.”
“why not?”
“because—” because he’s even worse than you are, “—i just can’t. and it’s not ‘cause i don’t trust you—”
“are you serious?” you frown at his sad attempt of making up an excuse. “look at what i’ve told you about me. i trusted you with something like that, but you don’t trust me.”
“i do.” he firmly interrupts. “i trust you more than anyone.”
“well, forgive me if i don’t believe that. if you’re not gonna tell me whatever it is you’re hiding, there’s the door.”
he waits for a second, the spasm in his fingertips being the only visible sign that he’s itching to tell you what’s been sitting on his conscience for so long ― yet not a single word comes out of his mouth.
with shoulders slumped in defeat, he hesitantly takes a step backwards, leaving you behind as he exits your room.
while walking down the hallway to get to his own room, he takes a deep breath. all he can tell himself is that this will probably blow over soon, and perhaps you’ll even forget about it, with time.
several weeks later, he realizes that those thoughts couldn’t be less true.
in the days that have passed since the argument, you’ve hardly even looked at him. he can’t stand this sudden distance between you ― he wishes you understood why he hasn’t told you the truth, but he’s afraid you’ll only understand that once he actually tells you. in which lies the problem.
he doesn’t do that kind of honesty. not usually, anyways.
now, for the first time in weeks, the crippling sense of loneliness he’s been feeling is replaced by annoyance.
he’s always hated the parties hosted by his father’s social circle ― but if he wants his inheritance, he’ll have to bear it. so he finds himself attending a gala in his tailored tuxedo, his hands sitting in his pockets, a deep frown set into his forehead.
maybe it was uncharacteristically naive of him to think everything could go back to the way things were before that conversation with joshua. the last thing he expected, though, was that he’d be the one left behind.
from a distance, he’s been keeping his eye on you. and from what he’s seen, you and joshua are friendly with each other again, and jeonghan gets the feeling his best friend only holds him accountable for the fact that you’re fucking.
truthfully, you came up to joshua a few days after overhearing their conversation, and you apologized he had to see you and his best friend together in the way that he did. with shua still holding a bit of a soft spot for you, he accepted your apology, and you’ve been enjoying his company ever since.
but he’s not jeonghan.
while anxiously tapping your finger against the champagne glass, you look around the room, since you’ve hardly even seen him tonight.
it’s as if joshua can read your mind. he leans down to speak in a hushed tone. “trouble in paradise?”
him taking notice of it makes you shrug. “no, everything’s fine.”
“sure.” he chuckles knowingly. “i get it. why do you think he’s still my best friend after all these years?”
“what do you mean?”
“i know you overheard our conversation a couple weeks ago. i saw you slip away, and now that i know you’re not on speaking terms with him, well… you put two and two together.”
“i’m guessing you’re not gonna tell me either?”
“i can’t. unfortunately.”
the cryptic response has you rolling your eyes at him. “i don’t understand why you guys are being so secretive about it.”
“because if he told you, you’d see him for who he really is.”
“and who would that be?”
“someone who…” he swallows for a moment. “someone who will make you question your own sanity. he’s willing to do the worst things you could possibly think of and then act like it’s completely normal. he’s the worst person i know.”
the brutal honesty catches you off guard. “so why do you keep going back to him?”
“i’ve asked myself the same question. there’s something about him that… i don’t know―just pulls you in, i guess.”
the short-lived silence makes you look at your glass of alcohol with a certain distaste.
“why are you telling me this, joshua? are you saying i should distance myself from him?”
“that’s the thing. there is no distancing yourself from him.”
“you make him sound like a monster.”
joshua doesn’t meet your eyes. “perhaps he is.”
the bitter statement leaves you baffled for a second — until you decide you’re sick of it. “for fuck’s sake, joshua, you can’t say something like that and not elaborate. i live in the same house as him.”
he’s clearly surprised by your sudden and strong grip on his arm, but all it takes is catching a single glance from jeonghan across the room for him to backtrack.
“i’m sorry.” is all he says to you before leaving you behind, hoping to find some peace and quiet in the empty hallway.
all he finds there is the opposite.
“you seem awfully close with my sister. thought you’d try again now that she’s not talking to me?”
joshua stops dead in his tracks. he turns around, seeing his best friend casually leaning against the wall, the soft light of the lamp above his head reflecting on his face. the red circles under his eyes almost match his hair.
“i’m not trying anything. i know she doesn’t like me like that.”
“i’m aware. but perhaps she’d naturally gravitate more towards liking you if you told her… our secret.” jeonghan manipulatively emphasizes, which his best friend fails to register.
joshua clenches his fist. “that’s something you would do. not me.”
“right. you’re a much better person than me.”
“i didn’t say that.”
“no, but you implied it.”
“just―just tell her the truth. i can’t stand that she knows we’re hiding something.”
“we’re not guilty of anything, shua. i told you that.”
“then why won’t you tell her?”
“because she wasn’t there. she wouldn’t understand.”
but his own worry clouds his judgement and shifts the conversation into a different direction. “i saw bitna tonight. it’s like she fucking knows what we did to her brother―”
jeonghan’s anger comes swift and harsh, causing joshua to flinch. “we agreed to remain silent on this, shua, so you need to keep your end of the deal.”
but jeonghan suddenly notices his best friend is now focused on something behind him, and as his body language changes into something smaller, jeonghan turns his head.
only to see you standing behind him with confused eyes.
fucking hell, he thinks to himself. what is it with everyone and eavesdropping these days?
“joshua, go outside, take a breather. i’ll be back.” he says, taking charge of the situation, barely making eye contact with you when he takes a few steps toward you, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him to an empty room he finds after opening one of the doors, shutting the door behind you. the jealousy is painfully obvious in his face.
“you can’t avoid me forever. and what the fuck are you doing ― being besties with joshua all of a sudden? seriously?”
“oh, so i need your approval on who i befriend now?”
“you know damn well that’s not what i’m saying. it makes zero sense for you to be mad at me but all buddy-buddy with him.”
“because you’re the one i trust! i never put my faith in him the way i put it in you!”
“do you really think i don’t feel the same way? if you actually believe i don’t trust you, you’re not as smart as i thought you to be.”
“fuck you, jeonghan. if you think i’ll ever open up to you again in the way that i did, you’re wrong.”
when you’re about to leave him behind, he stops you, tugging at your arm, and you sigh.
“please don’t leave. please.” he begs, his voice turning small. “i wanna tell you — i’m just scared to lose you when i do. and that’s the one thing i cannot handle.”
you scoff. “oh, c’mon, after what i did, how much worse can it possibly get?”
when he keeps quiet, looking you in the eye with a stern face, yours drops.
“jeonghan, what did you do?”
after opening the door to check if anyone’s there, then closing it again, he rubs his forehead. “me and joshua went on vacation to a winter retreat over our november break with a group of twenty, it was an initiative from a classmate. it ended up being a couple days of a lot of drinking, and then one night, someone pulled out the harddrugs. shua and i didn’t want any, and the guys who brought it clearly thought it was stupid. one of them was bitna’s brother.”
you just listen intently, gesturing for him to continue.
“eventually, he went outside to grab more beer from the storage by himself, which was about a five-minute walk from the house. i slipped out of the room without anyone noticing and went after him. there was a snow storm outside, so the weather was shit. once i got to the storage, i told him to stop harassing shua about taking any drugs, but he reacted badly to it. we got into a fight, i don’t even remember who threw the first punch, but… i pushed him, and when he fell backwards, it’s like i could hear the crack in his skull. he was bleeding from the back of his head, unable to get up. i grabbed my phone to call for help, but all i did was stare at my screen. the guy was bleeding out in front of me and i let him die instead of letting anyone know. and it would’ve been fine — had joshua not come outside.”
“did he watch everything?”
“no, i don’t think he did. i told him exactly what had happened, and he… he came up with the idea of framing it as an unfortunate accident. so that’s what we did. the other guys were so coked out that night that they only found the body the next day, buried under a layer of snow. the cops found the drugs in his system, and he clearly hit his head, so they ruled it an accident like we’d hoped.”
“and you swore to take it to the grave.” you fill in the blanks, and he nods at you. “why didn’t you tell me this when i asked you? what were you so afraid of?”
you see something in him you’ve never seen before — tears. nervousness. panic.
his eyes turn red and his throat tightens up. “when you told me your secret, i was… happy. because the person i care for the most is the only one who’s experienced what i have. but what you had to do was nothing more than an accident, and what i did was on purpose. i could’ve saved that guy, yet i chose not to. i don’t care if that makes me a bad person — i just don’t want you to see me that way. as selfish as that may be.”
he’s on the verge of sobbing, trembling fingers sitting on your waist.
little does he know that you don’t view him as a bad person at all. “you had to make a choice, and you made the right one. who knows what they would’ve done to you if you’d told the truth.”
all he can do is nod, his throat too closed-off to talk.
“you’re my brother. you’ll always have me, jeonghan.” you tell him, remembering the words he said to you after you confessed what was weighing so heavily on your conscience.
and jeonghan cannot help gazing at you ― he realizes that you understand him more than anyone else ever will. he’s free to completely be himself with you as you are with him, and he’s finally processing that.
he cups your face, staring at your lips before pressing his own on them.
the kiss is slow but hungry — full of greed and care and wanting. his hands move from your face to your back, pressing your body closer to his, aching for your bodies to mold together and become one.
his whole body trembles when you break the kiss, and you cup his face as he did yours.
he can’t believe he gave you his bare heart on a silver platter and you chose to stay. you see him for all he is, and in spite of his many flaws, you want him just as much as before.
yoon jeonghan, for the first time in his life, finally knows what it’s like to be loved in the way he so desperately yearned for.
and he wants to show you that he loves you just as much. he leans in to kiss you again, but just when his lips are about to touch yours, the door whips open, and you’re greeted by a phone shoved in front of you.
the vulnerability on your faces is gone the second you recognize the person holding the phone as bitna — who seems horrified.
“what the fuck are you doing?” jeonghan sneers when he realizes she made a picture of your near-kiss.
she stumbles in her step, and it seems like she’s had one too many glasses of champagne. “at first i thought i was imagining things at the party, but i was right. i was trying to finally tell you how much i liked you, even after all these years, and you ditched me for your fucking stepsister!”
that makes you raise your brow. jeonghan just confessed to killing her brother, yet this is what she chooses to talk about — she probably wasn’t eavesdropping, then.
“and how is that any of your business? we’ve barely even spoken to each other since high school.” he responds, his voice to her colder than he’s ever been to you.
“maybe it’s not my business. but the rest of your friends here deserve to know what you’ve been up to, if you ask me.” she says, attempting to make her tone sound just as mean as his, but the tremble in her voice gives her away.
when she grabs her phone and begins to type like she’s on a timer, you both realize what she’s about to do — she’s gonna upload the picture.
if that photo of you and jeonghan gets out, it’ll have serious consequences.
you attempt to snatch the phone out of her hand, but she’s quicker, her sharp nails leaving a scratch on your wrist.
jeonghan sees you hiss from the pain, and he pushes her up against the wall, his hand wrapped around her throat.
“don’t even fucking try it.”
bitna panics and shoves her knee right into his crotch, causing him to grunt from the impact, forced to let go of her neck as he collapses on the floor.
she grabs her phone and runs out of the hallway, and you don’t waste a second, running after her.
with the gala taking place at a mansion by the countryside, you’re far away from civilization, mostly just surrounded by the forest and some badly lit roads.
you go after her even when she runs outside through the backdoor, right between the tall trees. it’s when she trips over her heels that you’re finally able to catch up with her, and you flip her around to choke her unconscious, but she uses her nails to scratch across your face this time.
“fuck!” you yell, and she uses the moment to escape once more.
with a few drops of blood on your face, you get up to go after her again, fueled by the adrenaline and blazing hatred in your system.
she keeps running, looking back to you from over her shoulder, and it’s right at that moment that she runs onto the road, forgetting to check whether there’s any traffic in her haste — and she gets pushed over by an incoming car.
shock hits you briefly, and you contemplate hiding between the trees to leave the scene of the crime until you recognize the car as well as its driver.
jeonghan gets out, and you run over to him, finding him standing by bitna’s body, which is now several meters away from the car due to the crash.
“fucking hell — what just happened? i wasn’t even trying to hit her, she just ran in front of the car out of fucking nowhere—did she do that to your face?”
with your breathing slowing bit by bit, you nod, and you both look down at the body, only to realize she’s still breathing, but her injuries are so bad that she can’t get up, and she’s coughing up blood. hell, it looks like she can hardly even move at all.
the sound of her pained grunts hardly affect you when you take her phone out of her pocket to delete the picture before putting it back again.
“sweetheart.” jeonghan says to you, and you look at each other for a moment. “she knows too much.”
you sigh, turning around to check if there’s any cars coming, but the road is remote and empty, and it’s late at night.
“who’s gonna do it?”
he wordlessly sinks down to one knee, staring down at bitna even when his hand squeezes her throat and the life leaves her eyes. he only closes his eyes when some splatters of the blood she was coughing up hits his cheek, which he wipes away with his other hand.
when he checks her pulse to see if she’s still alive, you see a single car nearing the scene, the driver of which you then recognize as the last person that should see this.
joshua hits the brakes and hurries out of the car. “i saw you drive off like crazy, what the hell happened—”
his words are caught in his throat when he sees the body.
“shua. she’s gone.” your voice is strained as the sobs remain choked-up in your throat, your shaky hands tugging at his arm.
tears well up in his eyes. “what the—how did this happen?”
jeonghan forces himself to sound remotely shaken up. “i just drove here and she ran in front of the car. it was an accident, i swear.”
but a part of joshua doesn’t buy it. “out of nowhere? what the fuck is this, jeonghan? are you lying to me?”
“no. i swear to you—”
but he doesn’t let him finish. “this is insane. we have to do something, tell the cops what happened here, and with her brother—”
it’s then that jeonghan’s softer approach fades into something meaner. he pushes him against the hood of the car, trying to talk some sense into him. “and what do you think the cops will say, huh? you think they’ll just smile at you for fessing up and let you walk out freely? you’re an accomplice to murder, shua. everyone you know will hate you. this will haunt your name for the rest of your life ― get it into your thick skull once and for all.”
joshua’s breathing quickens with his sobs. “i can’t deal with this the way you can. i can’t do it.”
“you can, and you will.” he grabs his face, wiping the fresh tears away. “you just have to breathe, and you deny. you deny everything. you were not here, okay? i need you to go home, she and i will fix this.”
“you can’t keep making me go through this. how many more deaths do i need to have on my conscience before it’s enough?”
jeonghan shakes his head calmly, embracing him, his one hand on the back of joshua’s neck. “it’s not your fault, shua. it’ll be okay, promise.”
joshua glances at you, seeing your distraught face, and the portion of trust he lost in his best friend, he chooses to find in you.
and so he believes it. he tells himself it was an accident, and does what he’s told.
the moment joshua walks back to get into his car, jeonghan peers at you, the flickering red light reflecting on your tear-streaked face. the emotions you were displaying mere seconds ago are entirely gone, replaced by something numb and indifferent in the blink of an eye.
it’s like looking into a mirror.
as joshua’s in the driver’s seat, jeonghan tells him what to do one last time before the younger of the two drives off, leaving only you and your brother behind.
what happens next is like a blur. jeonghan tells you something about a nearby lake, which is where he takes the body to get rid of it. once he returns, he’s empty-handed, save for the fresh blood on his conscience.
you’re in the driver’s seat, watching him get in beside you, his clothes stained with red spots.
he sits still for a moment, but as soon as you turn your head, he holds your chin and kisses you.
it’s far less gentle than before, more lust than anything, but it’s something you both need right now.
with your forehead leaning against his, you breathe into each other’s mouths. “we gotta go home, hannie. before our parents get back.” you whisper.
all he can do is hum in agreement, kissing you one more time before you start the car.
once you’re home, you park the car out of sight, as it needs to be cleaned and repaired.
you eventually manage to get into jeonghan’s room unseen. he yanks his stained shirt over his head, throwing it into the fireplace to get rid of every piece of evidence he can think of. you immediately go on to wash your hands by the sink.
it’s interesting for you to watch how he behaves at a moment like this — it’s hard to tell whether his thoughts are racing or completely frozen. he moves to the bathroom to scrub the blood off his hands and nails, going at it for several minutes until there’s not a speck of red left.
then he comes walking back, heading straight for the whiskey bottle on top of the coffee table to down two glasses in one go.
“you put up a show for joshua.” he states.
“what do you mean?”
“the crying. it stopped the second you knew he wasn’t paying attention to it anymore.”
kudos to him for being so perceptive. you didn’t think he noticed.
“so?”
he takes a few steps over to you. “i saw it. that moment your expression completely changed… i used to think we were different, in a way. but we’re really not.”
it only makes you shrug your shoulders. “and now? am i no longer a good person to you, little brother?”
jeonghan mimics the teasing in your tone. “i think being a good person is overrated.”
his tone and gaze and grip on your hips is harsher than usual, and as soon as he’s got you pressed against the wall, you realize he’s rock-hard.
“you looked so fucking good doing that. the way you talked to joshua, saying the exact things you needed to say to get him to believe you, the blood on your face—” he mutters, completely lost in his desires now that you’ve made them a reality, “you were perfect. my sweet sister.”
your nails harshly dig into his skin, hot arousal dripping between your legs. you pull your dress of and discard it onto the floor, taking a few steps back to his desk, pulling him with you with your finger at the waistband of his boxers.
“need you in me. please, i’m so fucking wet—”
after laying you back on his desk, he rubs his cock against your entrance, finding you soaking for him, and he has to force himself to keep his composure and not completely fall apart already.
a shameless moan escapes him when he pushes himself inside you, and his pace quickly increases, his mouth moving to your sensitive nipples. you wrap your legs around his waist at the sensation, and his warm saliva coats your breasts while he keeps fucking into you.
you don’t think the coil in your stomach has ever built up this fast. all you want is for him to keep fucking you throughout the night, and by the looks of it, he’s far from done with you.
he leaves hickeys all over your upper body, feeling more possessive of you than ever before, and you suck his cock so tightly into your cunt that he wants to stay like this forever.
“let me cum inside you, baby, please. wanna see it drip out of you — oh my god, please, let me have it—”
the sound of his begging turns you even wetter. “yes, yes, cum in me, hannie.”
it’s a mere matter of seconds before you feel him shudder, emptying himself inside you, and he looks down to see drops of his white cum seeping out of your dripping pussy. he watches you rub at your clit before you dip your finger inside, pushing his cum back into you, and his breath visibly hitches in his throat.
his cock has never been hard faster, and he rubs himself at the sight of your pussy, moaning when you begin to finger yourself in front of him, the wet noise ringing through his ears.
“let me fuck you again. wanna fuck you again so bad, baby, look at how wet you are, jesus christ—”
“want it harder this time, hannie.” you nod, pulling him closer to you again, and he’s utterly hypnotized, as if you’re some holy being speaking to someone beneath you.
and as always, he’ll gladly oblige you, so he sheathes himself inside, giving you exactly what you want.
you both lose complete track of time in his room, lost in your own world, waking up the next day to the news that the girl whose body you dumped into the lake is considered missing by the authorities.
it’s two days later when they discover her body, and as you’d hoped, the police appear to believe her death was an unfortunate accident rather than cold-blooded murder.
bitna’s funeral is grim.
it’s more crowded than you anticipated, but the majority of people attending are either family, current classmates or former classmates, you and jeonghan falling into the latter categories. you blend in well with the other attendees.
with your black coats and leather gloves on, you stare at the casket being lowered into the ground.
once the people leaving are out of earshot, the two of you glance at the tombstone. “what a shame. she was young.”
jeonghan nods slowly. “and she made a mistake by trying to meddle with business that wasn’t hers.”
“do you have any regrets? about the things that happened?”
“no. do you?”
“i should, probably. but i don’t.” you shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. “i have a feeling joshua is gonna lose his shit, though. he’s fragile.”
“you’d be surprised, actually.” he leans toward you, making sure that no one can hear him. “when bitna’s brother died, it was his idea to frame it as suicide.”
“seriously? i thought it was yours.”
“to be fair, i’d come up with the idea already, but i wanted him to be the one to say it. all he needed was me mentioning what the consequences would be — were we to confess what happened. the image of spending a solid part of your life in prison does wonders for some.”
deadpanning a stare, you snort. “you manipulated him into coming up with the suicide so he couldn’t blame you later on.”
a smirk tugs at his lips, yet he tilts his head. “don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.”
“fine, you got me there.”
you both chuckle quietly, after which it’s briefly quiet. shifting your gaze down to the ground, you huff to yourself.
“well, i guess this is who we are when no one can stop us.” you sigh. “somehow always at the scene of the crime.”
“this is who we are when we take care of each other.” he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side, rubbing at your clothed skin as he holds you. “you’re my sister. i’ll do anything for you — i want you to know that.”
“i do.” you nod, laying your head down on his shoulder. “i also know you don’t want me to protect you, but… i will. always.”
with a kiss pressed to your temple, he gives you his response to the sentiment.
sure, you and jeonghan may not share the same blood, but you are bound by the secrets you’ve shared and the blood you’ve spilled, and all you can feel for the future is… excitement.
thank u for reading. please let me know if u enjoyed it x
® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.
this is so sickening in THEE best way possible oh my. i read this like its my morning paper and i never felt better THANK YOU FOR THIS WONDERFUL MASTERPIECE AUGHH ◍·̀Ⱉ·́◍
During a seven-day vacation with your friends, you try to get over your feelings for one of them.
Feeling alone, surrounded by people who seem closer to each other than you, you find comfort in the one person that you didn’t know before.
✧.* pairing: kim mingyu x fem reader
✧.* w.c: 26k
✧.* genre: best friend's brother, strangers to lovers, fluff, comfort, smut, angst.
🎧: 7 days — g-idle
✧.* content warnings: ages are not specified but mingyu is mentioned to be a little older (once), some anxiety themes, alcohol consumption, | explicit smut (minors dni) protected penetration, exhibitionism (just a lil), fingering, masturbation, cum play, lmk if i miss something important!
check out my main masterlist ♡
✧.* remember! this is a fictional work, it doesn't represent how any of the real people mentioned are like in real life!
✧.* note: this took so long to finish! i've had a crazy couple of months at uni, but luckily i passed all of my midterms :) i really hope you like this ♡♡♡
ONE WEEK BEFORE
Your eyes focus on the pavement below as you walk, head low and not a single word coming out of your mouth. Your steps and Minghao’s are coordinated, muscle memory moving them forward through the city. Each block memorized in both of your brains, each closed shop and parked car, the blinking lights and broken pieces of pavement, all so familiar to you yet coated with a nostalgic feel. You’ve walked the same path together countless times before, but tonight there’s an awkwardness impossible to shake away.
A third body walks by his side. Sami’s fingers are tangled with his with familiarity as they engage in a conversation you choose not to take part in. A question flies your way every few minutes, and you know they’re trying to include you so you don’t feel out of place, but nothing comes to mind besides one-word answers. You laugh every now and then, just so they know you’re at least a little bit engaged.
The pavement changes color under your feet and you know you’re barely minutes away from your home, finally. You like their company, you really do. And you appreciate them walking you to your door this late at night. But their presence can be suffocating.
You can’t avoid feeling guilty about your... feelings. She's one of your closest friends yet she never mentioned starting a relationship with the guy you were in love with. If you would’ve known, you would’ve never let your feelings progress beyond a tiny crush. You would’ve never deluded yourself into thinking he may also like you. For the record, you never told her either, but the only friend you trusted with your feelings also failed to mention that detail. You felt betrayed at first, but deep down you always knew they were closer to each other than to you.
They’ve been together for months now, but even if you’re used to seeing them kiss and hold hands, the awkwardness in your body doesn’t care. Every time you see him your hands are going to shake, and you mind will go blank. Inside, you can’t help to feel giddy anytime he takes interest in your answers to his questions, and you always feel bad after. So, when they insist that they’ll walk you home, you refuse. Not only you feel awkward around them, but now you have to be the third wheel? You'd rather not. But they don’t take a no for an answer, and thus, your current situation.
Your front door appears on your sight, and you feel instant relief. You're quick to bid them goodbye and thank them for keeping you company. Even though you kept saying they could just turn around and you’ll be fine many times over the walk, you don’t want it to seem like you hate their company. Their presence is not the problem, you are.
As you turn around to open your door, your name is called and you’re instantly facing them again.
“We’re going to Chan’s grandfather’s house on the beach next week. You should come!” Sami invites you with a smile on her face. She says it so sweetly you almost don’t care that they’re telling you with such short notice.
“Oh! I don’t know, I'm kinda behind on some homework for the semester,” it’s not a lie per se, you do have some stuff due after the break, but it can be done in a day. You like your friends, and you always have a good time when you’re all together, but a group of ten people can be overwhelming, “I have to think about it.”
“C’mon it’s spring break! We’ll go to the beach, play card games and get drunk!” Sami tries to convince you again. The fear of missing out on fun times with them starts overpowering your need to run away from your feelings. You think about it for a second too long.
“We really want you to come, please?” Minghao steps in. His statement sounds so honest as he looks at you directly in the eyes. You fear you will never be able to say no to him.
Your gaze can’t stand his for long, his eyes are almost piercing though your soul waiting for an answer. You’re quick to break eye contact and look at Sami, who’s waiting for your answer just as expectantly as Minghao. They’re still holding hands as they face you, fingers interlocked, like there’s some external force that’s keeping them from separating.
What can possibly be worse? Rotting in your bed for a week, thinking about how you could be having more fun away with your friends? Or spend a full week around the man you could never have and his perfect girlfriend? You juggle your options in your head as fast as you can.
“Ok I’ll be there.” You end up saying at the sight of their pleading eyes.
“Great! I’ll text you the details tomorrow, bye!” Sami excitedly replies as they walk away, and the feeling on the pit of your stomach starts to bubble up again. You can just ignore them from time to time. You don't have to spend all 24 hours by their side. It’s completely fine.
DAY ONE
The week flashes through and, in an instant, you’re already packing for the trip.
Your mind spirals, thinking of excuses to not go, but it stays empty as you zip up your bag, go downstairs, get in a taxi and go to Chan’s place where you’re supposed to meet everyone. It's only a 10-minute ride to his house, but today, it feels like hours. Watching the buildings pass by through the window, the streetlights still on and the sun barely peeking through the horizon, hundreds of thoughts cloud your mind, running through your brain like they’re on a race, competing on which one’s can stress you fastest.
But you calm yourself as soon as you see Chan standing on the sidewalk at the distance. He always looks genuinely happy to see you, always inviting you to hang out because he knows you’re not going to do it yourself. He's just so warm and welcoming, always knows how to make you laugh, even on the toughest moments. He's someone you could call a best friend. When he and Jihyun started dating, it made sense. She’s someone who, in the best way possible, never shuts up. He lets her talk and watches her with glossy eyes, as if what she was saying was the most interesting thing he’s ever heard. In a way, you should’ve known they would’ve been perfect together, but you were too caught up in your own feelings and didn’t notice your two best friends liked each other. Maybe that’s why she confided in Sami instead.
A bear hug welcomes you as soon as you get out of the taxi. Your bag drops on top of your feet as you hug Chan back, squeezing him like you haven’t seen him in ages. You have about three seconds of peace until you have to speak up.
“My bag’s crushing my feet.” You giggle with your mouth right beside Chan’s ear, so he hears you perfectly and laughs with you. He moves down to pick it up himself but is shocked by the weight.
“Did you bring your fucking desk? Why is this so heavy?”
“Hey! I just brought the essentials.” You did in fact only bring essentials, besides plenty of clothes, a lot of underwear just in case, your skincare, a hair drier and a few towels. Years of vacations going wrong taught you that those things can really make the difference.
“It's only a week...”
“A girl always has to be prepared.” You reply mysteriously as you walk away from him and into his house, forcing him to carry your bag inside for you. He follows right behind you, and when you cross the door, another voice welcomes you.
“She’s right you know,” Jihyun tells Chan while hugging you, “last month you forgot the toothpaste when we went to the lake! If I hadn't brought my travel bag you would have yellow teeth right now.” Chan huffs but doesn’t argue with her, he just smiles and gives her a peck.
Sami and Minghao are talking in the kitchen, so you only wave at them. Her shiny long black hair is tied up in two buns, and it contrasts perfectly with his disheveled light brown hair. Gyuri, Vernon and Jeonghan are playing some card game on the coffee table, you could hear her screams from the door, he probably cheated, and she only realized after losing. Miyoo looks at them, with a bored expression that doesn’t change as she sees you walk in.
After saying hi to everyone, you notice your bag already beside a couch, so you sit there. Looking around, you realize you’re the last one to arrive, as all your friends are already here. Right as your about to question what you were waiting for; Chan speaks up again.
“Ok so, Joshua told me yesterday that he couldn’t come, his shitty job didn’t give him the days off,” everyone collectively ‘oohs’ at the news, “and I know we had planned the budget with all ten of us,” He gets interrupted again as Vernon walks out of the bathroom and sits beside him, “so I… invited my big brother. I hope you’re all cool with that I’m sorry I didn’t ask you before it was just so sudden, you all know him he’s chill, and he won’t-"
“It’s ok bro we don’t mind.” Minghao steps in to calm Chan down. Everyone agrees with him instantly and he visibly calms down. It seems everyone has already met Chan’s brother, besides you.
You’ve been to Chan’s house a fair share of times, but almost always his family wasn’t home, and if they were they just kept to their own and let you hang out. And you know your friends sometimes hang out without you, you don’t mind, so they probably are more familiar with Chan’s family than you are. A new addition to the trip doesn’t bother you, you’re probably not gonna talk to him much anyway. You’re usually very quiet around your friends, especially when all of them are around. So, it’s not going to be different this time.
“Great! Then we can start heading our way then.” Everyone stands up and grab their bags simultaneously at his words, eager to finally start the trip.
“You said then two times babe.” You hear Jihyun joke as you head out.
“I know I was nervous ok." Chan laughs with her.
The sun is already out by the time everyone is out the door. Orange rays enlighten the world and blind you lightly if you stare at the fiery sun for too long. It’s a beautiful sight for a long road trip.
You squint, trying to gain your sight back, and the first thing your eyes land on is a truck you’ve never seen before, and a hilariously tall muscular man standing against it. Just when you think you might’ve seen him before, Chan walks over to him and hugs him.
“Oh right, this is my brother,” Chan turns around and speaks directly to you, “I don’t think you’ve met him yet.”
“Our budget savior!” you cheer before directing to his brother, “Hi! I'm Y/N.” Your right hand moves forward to shake his awkwardly.
“I’m Mingyu,” He chuckles lightly at your cheer and shakes your hand back. A tiny, almost unnoticeable, electric current runs through you at the touch, alerting all of your senses. Fortunately, he doesn’t notice because he’s looking at your bag in your other hand and then back up to your eyes, “are you riding with us?”
“Oh! I don’t know,” the question startles you, and you look at Chan panicking a little inside, “if you guys don’t mind!”
“I don’t mind, c’mon,” Mingyu cuts Chan before he can reply, takes your bag out of your hand to put it in the trunk and you follow him back. You take the chance to look back at the other cars, Sami’s already behind the wheel of one of them while Minghao puts Gyuri’s and Miyoo’s bags in their trunk, and Vernon and Jeonghan are already sitting inside the other car, waiting. Your body relaxes. Riding with Jihyun, Chan and his brother might be the best option. It’s not that you don’t like the others, but you’re quite sure Miyoo just doesn’t like you, and you’re not close enough with neither Jeonghan nor Vernon to be in a closed space together for six hours.
While Mingyu makes space for your bag in the trunk, your eyes can’t help to scan him up and down. If you thought Chan was buff, nothing could’ve prepared you for his brother. As he moves the heavy bags to accommodate yours, you think his arms are probably double the size as yours, if not more.
“Is this your car?” He finishes placing everything and you ask him something before he can catch you staring.
“It’s our dad’s but I use it more often than him nowadays,” he closes the trunk and finally turns to look at you, “you wanna take the shotgun seat? I don’t want to listen to my brother’s playlist again. I used to like it but now I’m kinda tired of it.”
It takes your brain a second to register what he’s asking you, “it’s fine by me,” you reply in a chuckle and you both start walking to the front of the car, “but I don’t think you’re gonna like my music better. I exclusively only listen to Taylor Swift.”
You hear a gasp coming from him, and turn your head aside to find him with his hand on his chest, dramatically looking at you with a shocked face, “how could think that? Can a man not like Taylor Swift?”
Your attempts to hold your laughter fail, and the back on your hand flies to hit him lightly on the arm.
“I’m not judging you! It was mostly a warning that you’re not gonna hear much diversity in artists.”
“It really is fine by me. I like a few of her tunes by the way.”
“As you should!”
In a few steps, you stop right beside the passenger's door. Mingyu’s about to open the door for you when you hear Chan complaining behind you.
“Hey! I thought I was riding shotgun!”
“Sorry! It seems your brother likes me better already!”
“How could you!” He crosses his arms feigning annoyance and you and Mingyu chuckle at him, your gazes crossing for a second. You sit down, ignoring Chan’s fake complaints, as Mingyu closes the door for you and circles around the front of the car to his seat.
After four hours into the ride, two bathroom stops, tons of singing and shouting to Taylor Swift's hits and Mingyu surprisingly knowing all the lyrics to Anti-Hero, the car sits in a comfortable silence. Chan fell asleep almost half an hour ago, that’s when the karaoke sessions stopped, Jihyun’s reading some book on her phone, Mingyu’s focused on the road and you’re admiring the view. The smell of wet grass from the dew envelopes the car, the wind ruffles your hair harshly, but you don’t care, and every now and then you’ll pass through a farm, and you’ll see the animals from far away.
Conversation strikes up again when Chan wakes up after a loud gasp Jihyun let out because of her book. The car becomes alive with laugher, telling funny stories from high school to Mingyu, and Chan’s complains about how you’re spilling too many secrets to his brother.
Jihyun starts telling a story you heard a million times, so you tune out and take the chance to take a proper look at Mingyu. His eyes are focused on the road, but he’s paying special attention to what’s being told to him, reacting to every detail and asking questions every now and then. His tan skin glows thanks to the morning sun. You can see a tiny glint in his eyes and how his nose scrunches when he giggles, but what catches your attention the most are his moles, highlighted by the sunlight, there are a few sprinkled on his cheeks and an especially cute one on the tip of his nose. It's undeniable that Mingyu is very handsome, and polite, and funny, and hot, and if you weren’t so stuck in your feelings, you know you’d probably crush on him for the whole trip.
How come you’ve never noticed him before? You’re sure he must’ve been at Chan’s house at the same time as you at least a couple of times, but you don’t remember ever saying hi to him. You think you’d remember him.
Chan and Mingyu’s grandparent’s house is huge. It’s probably more of a mansion than a house. Each of you have your separate individual rooms, and the two couples get the two big rooms. The entrance welcomes you with a shoe rack that can fit almost twenty pairs of shoes, the kitchen has two ovens and the biggest island you’ve ever seen, and probably ever see, and the living room has couches so big that you could take a nap, and everyone would still be able to sit comfortably.
Right by the living room there’s a door to a small back porch that goes straight to the beach. It’s peaceful and beautiful, and you wish you could stay here more time.
After snooping around the house, you finally go to your bedroom, that’s luckily on the first floor, and settle your stuff down. The room is almost as big as your own living room. There’s even a desk where you can put your laptop and a few drawers for your clothes, but what takes the cake is the on-suite bathroom that has a full-length mirror and a bathtub as big as the bed.
And you must’ve been exhausted because as soon as you lay in bed you fall asleep.
When you wake up, the sun is starting to set and the smell of something being cooked fills your nostrils. Three soft knocks at your door wake you out of your haze, and the mysterious person opens your door just barely enough.
“Hey,” Jihyun whispers, her head peeking inside the room, “we're setting up the table for dinner.”
“I’ll be right out.” You half groan half whisper in your sleepy voice.
It’s kind of funny in a way.
When you go out of your room after a nap that was definitely too long, the door of the room right in front opens at the same time, revealing a just woken up Mingyu.
It’s funny, that you both, being the ones less close with the rest of the group, end up together in this side of the house, the only rooms on this corridor, while the other two rooms downstairs are across the house and the rest are upstairs.
“You took a nap too?” You ask Mingyu as you walk towards the dining room side by side.
“Is it that obvious?” His voice is still raspy.
“Not at all, if we don’t take in account the messy hair or that your shirt is inside out.” You joke, still a little sleepy.
“Oh shit.”
The innocent conversation completely shifts when he stops in his tracks, takes his shirt off to and puts it back the right way. You’re frozen in place, now fully awake. You obviously could tell he was big and buff, but seeing him shirtless, even if it was just for a second, is completely different territory. He pays no mind to you and keeps walking.
A group of voices coming from the dining room take you out of your trance and remind you what you were doing. “I need a drink.”
DAY TWO
You’re not sure what you did yesterday after dinner. One drink turned into shots with Jihyun, and then everyone was drunk, playing some stupid drinking card game. That memory is already blurry, but after that is just a void.
As soon as you open your eyes, you regret it. The sun beams brightly directly to your face, increasing the feeling of someone drilling into your skull. It’s your first full day on the beach house and you’re completely wrecked. The only thing you want to do right now is take a pill for your headache and have a fulfilling breakfast.
There’s complete silence around the house, only the birds chirping and the waves crashing accompany you as you walk to the kitchen. Most probably everyone's in the same state as you but opting to stay in bed to sleep the hangover off.
“Oh hi! I didn’t think anyone was awake.” You really don’t mean to be mean, but Mingyu’s presence startles you. You were yearning for some alone time in the morning, peaceful and quiet, at least until the others wake up.
“Good morning. Yeah I just woke up,” his drowsy voice confirms it, “I don't think anyone else is awake tho.” You only hum in response, noting that you both are too sleepy to engage is small talk.
Mingyu’s company proves not to be dreadful like you thought. Both of you mind your own business, sitting down while eating breakfast and killing time with your phones in comfortable silence. It’s nice, the atmosphere isn’t awkward and there are no expectations from either of you, only two people starting the day at the same time.
“You and Jihyun seem close,” Mingyu breaks the silence and looks at you after putting his phone down.
“She’s one of my best friends.” It’s your turn to put your phone down to look at him. “She and Chan were the ones who introduced me to the rest of the group actually.”
“Yeah? How did you guys meet?”
“It’s kind of a long story.” You sound dismissive even if you don’t want to, Mingyu doesn’t strike you as someone who cares about high-school drama and you don’t want to bore him to death. “Just high-school stuff.”
“Well now I’m curious.” He fixes his posture to face you properly. “I’m listening. C’mon we have all morning.”
“Okay,” you chuckle at how eager he suddenly sounds, “basically, I moved cities right before senior year and she was my first friend in my new high school. I also met Chan on my first day since he gave me the tour.”
You stand up to grab both of your cups, he notices and moves his hand to give you his cup himself. His hand barely grazes yours, but the touch is electrifying. Panicked, you move away quickly, put the cups in the sink and keep going with the story.
“Me, Jihyun and three other girls formed a group. We were all best friends and would always hang out together, but it didn’t last long. Long story short, Jihyun and one of the girls had a big fight and she kinda left the group, became friends with Minghao and Chan and cut her relationship with the rest of the girls. I was the only one still talking to her, and yeah, the group started crumbling.”
“This is very high school.” Mingyu jokes and you agree.
“I told you! But it gets worse. So, this girl Hyerim, the girl Jihyun fought with, didn’t like that I was still talking to Jihyun and would always turn around at the sight of her. Just childish behavior that eventually started pissing me off, because every time she saw me talking with anyone even remotely close with Jihyun, she would get mad at me. It’s stupid I know, we were 18, and I just I thought those kinds of fights only happen in middle school, but I guess I was wrong.”
“Oh my god, are we talking about Hyerim?” Jihyun suddenly enters the kitchen, clearly just woken up.
“Mingyu wanted to know our story.” You chuckle at her disgusted face and joke. “Our favorite topic.”
“She sounds very immature.” Mingyu adds to your joke, not very interested in dissing some girl he doesn’t know, just adding to the teasing.
“She was a controlling bitch you couldn’t fathom her friends having other friendships beside her, she wanted followers, not friends.” Jihyun can’t help to get angry for a moment, so you intervene.
“Yeah well, luckily I escaped her claws and you and Chan adopted me, like a stray kitten." Your arms wrap around her shoulders, and you give her a peck on the cheek. "My saviors!”
“I think I’m gonna go back to bed, my head’s killing me.” Jihyun whispers while patting your hip and starts walking away from the kitchen. "Bye guys, really nice chat.” Her sarcastic tone impossible to miss.
“We don’t really talk about it much. We can get really pissed.” Your eyes are back to Mingyu, who’s gaze never left your figure.
“I get it tho, it sounds like a really shitty situation.” Weirdly enough and even if he didn’t intend to, he comforts you. Mingyu doesn’t make you feel stupid for still having feelings about a fight that took place years ago.
After a while, more people wake up and a plan is made to go to a hiking spot Gyuri found close to the house.
But all morning and even during the afternoon, all you can think about is how you’ve spoken more words to Mingyu at breakfast than to all your friends in two days, how comfortable you felt alone with him, no expectations, no need to pretend to be someone you’re not. In that moment, you were just you.
“And then he pooped! On the balcony floor!”
“No way! That’s disgusting!”
The bottle that was full an hour ago passes from Mingyu’s hand to yours, with now less than a third of the liquid left.
Avoiding Minghao proves not to be as hard as you thought, as people have been sticking to their own plans during the day, and everyone only being together at dinnertime and after.
Loud voices can be heard from the living room. They found a board game and made it into a drinking game, one they’ve been playing for over an hour, all while you were with Mingyu in the kitchen.
You’re both sitting on the floor with your backs against the island, facing the couches where everyone else is sitting, but neither of you make any attempt to join them. Some come and go, enter the kitchen to grab a drink and go back to the living room. Chan even told the both of you to join them, but you refused at the same time. The minutes go by without realizing, just talking about whatever, and you don’t feel the need to go where everyone is, you’re not missing out on anything.
“There’s no way that actually happened!” The words barely get out of you, between the laughs and the bottle on your lips.
“I got pics let me-” Mingyu’s hand heads for his front pocket to retrieve his phone.
“No!” You push him lightly to the side and you both break into laughter, “why would you take photos of that?” It’s a genuine question to ask, but it seems that you’re both a little too drunk to focus on more than one thing at a time because he doesn’t hear you.
“Why can’t I find them?” He’s looking through his gallery, and in your drunk haze, you don’t think your actions through. You put the bottle on the floor and throw yourself over him to take his phone away from his hand. Your arm stretches as far as possible to reach for Mingyu’s cellphone while the other is placed on Mingyu’s thigh for support, and you don’t notice how dangerously close your head is to his, or how your hand is dangerously high on his thigh, but he does.
You put all your core strength to use and manage to snatch his phone right out of his left hand. For a second, your surroundings become blurry, the voices are no longer background noise, it’s just you and Mingyu when you look up and his eyes on yours, faces barely inches away. You stare at each other, without blinking and with your breaths synchronized for what feels like minutes. A little smirk forms on the corner of his lips when his eyes glance at your lips for a millisecond, and you can’t take it.
“I can’t believe you have pics of a stranger's poop on your phone.” You chuckle awkwardly as you back away from him and sit on your previous position, a little sobered up. His phone is left on top of his leg, where your hand previously was.
“I didn’t actually take them, it was my friend that sent them to the group chat, if that makes it any better.” You look at each other before erupting into laughter once again, the awkward atmosphere already gone.
“It doesn’t!” You try to focus on your friends and the game they’re playing while Mingyu takes another sip from the bottle. There's silence between you for the first time in hours, the only thing you feel is his body so close to yours. Your knee sits on top of his, and you’re afraid that if you dare to move, he’ll realize your closeness and move away. You've known this man for two days, an objectively short amount of time to be so comfortable getting into the other’s personal space, but it doesn’t feel awkward.
“Do you think they’ll notice if we casually left to go to sleep?” His voice reaches your ears, not letting the silence get between you two, and overpowering the shouting coming from the living room.
“I don’t think so.” You look at your friends carefully. There doesn’t seem to be a piece missing in the group, nothing changes without you there, even if they all like you and you like them, there’s not much to add. “Maybe Chan will notice if you disappear suddenly, he keeps looking over.”
“Jihyun looks this way every now and then to look for you too.”
“They’re a very caring couple.” Just that second, both Chan and Jihyun look back to the kitchen and see you sitting on the floor, and you both crack up laughing.
You rest your head back against the island, and your eyelids feel heavy with tiredness. You try to fight the urge to close them, not wanting the night to be over yet, but it’s pointless. Your eyes close almost on their own, and your head falls softly to the side against Mingyu’s shoulder.
A soft smile appears on Mingyu’s face when he feels you rest on him. Warm and giddy, he’s careful not to move much as to not wake you up, but your heavy sighs signal him that you’re fast asleep. He stays that way, watching the others play while you’re resting for a few minutes. When you move slightly in your sleep to get more comfortable his breath hitches for a second, he doesn’t really want you to wake up.
Awfully, when everyone gets tired and cleans up the living room, it’s time for the house to sleep. They notice you asleep on Mingyu’s shoulder, a few knowing looks come your way, but most importantly, Chan’s worried look alerts Mingyu. He assures Chan that you’re okay, just tired, and tells him to go to sleep, that he’ll help you to your room.
DAY THREE
Second day in a row where you wake up feeling like the weight of the whole world is sitting on your head.
With your eyes still closed, you stretch your arm to the side you think you remember putting your phone at. Somehow you actually find it there and grab it to check the time, but soft knocks on your door interrupt you.
“I’m awake!” Even talking feels painful.
The door opens slightly, revealing a freshly showered Mingyu with his hair still damp and his skin shiny from the morning skincare.
“Can I come in?” It’s cute how he whispers. He most likely knows your head's killing you. Your nod gives him the okay and he comes in, like your knight in shiny armor, with an ibuprofen a glass full of cold water.
When he sinks down beside you, after placing the glass and the pill on the nightstand, you sit up. The warmth of his body beside yours awakes flashbacks of the night before, and remind you how you fell asleep on him.
“Oh my god!” Embarrassed, you cover your face with your hands. “I’m so sorry for yesterday, I swear I’m never drinking again.”
“Really?” You move your fingers enough to uncover your eyes and side eye him. “You don’t have to lie.”
“I’m serious!” With one hand, Mingyu removes yours from your face so that you look at him properly. “We were both pretty drunk and having fun, I didn’t mind.”
“You look too good for someone who was drunk last night.” He doesn’t even have noticeable eye bags, while you’re probably as pale as a zombie and look like you slept only one hour. A smirk slowly forms on his face at your words.
“You think I look good?” He teases and makes you realize what you said exactly, but you’re not giving in that easily. Even if the blush fights to get on your cheeks and your stomach starts filling with butterflies. Even if your mind questions the reasons for his teasing and your eyes linger for a second too long on his smirk.
“For someone who got shitfaced 8 hours ago, sure.” You avoid his gaze and focus on the glass on the nightstand. You forgot it was there.
Your attention is now on hydrating and taking the ibuprofen pill, but you hear him chuckle again and stop drinking, “What?”
“Nothing.” His lips form a quivering line, and you know he’s fighting for his life not to laugh. “We’re all going to the beach later.” He gets up quickly, a light chuckle escaping at your questioning face. “You better not be hangover by then!”
“You’re not funny!” You shout at him as he leaves your room.
You smile as you finish the glass of water. You really try not to ponder about why that interaction left you so giddy, why remembering his smirk makes you all mushy inside, why your stomach contracts thinking about him caring enough to bring you something for your hangover.
When you decide the leftovers of the alcohol left your system for good, you change into your bikini, grab your beach towel and head to the backyard beach to join the rest of the guys.
At first, you join the girls sunbathing, snacking and chatting calmly. There's no sight of the guys, probably doing their own thing, guy stuff. The time passes easily, talking about university and gossiping about each other's coworkers, and it quickly becomes past lunch time. You almost don’t think about the night before, falling asleep on Mingyu’s shoulder and how he seemed okay with it.
It's nice spending time with the girls, even if you don’t talk much around them, they’re funny and you end up cackling and falling onto the sand multiple times.
You’ve done a good job staying away from Minghao these past two days, but there’s so much you can do before you have to face him again. And it seems that the universe thinks you’ve reached your limit.
A shirtless Minghao, wet from swimming in the sea, comes running your way, says good morning to you and asks how you woke up so nonchalantly, like his whole presence isn't messing up your whole nervous system. He never noticed and he’ll probably never know just how much he affected you. Now, for you, it’s just awkward. Remnants of your feelings still float around, making you feel guilty anytime you’ll see him and Sami acting all coupley, like right now. After saying hi to you, Sami got up and jumped to hug and kiss him, making it almost impossible for you to ignore, but your gaze doesn’t fix on them for too long.
Behind them, Vernon and Mingyu are setting up to play beach volleyball. It's a few meters away, not enough to see a lot of details but enough to leave you breathless. Since the morning, even if you won’t admit it, all you wanted was to see him again, but you hadn’t thought about the fact that you were at the beach, with warm temperatures and the sun shining brightly. Your stomach does backflips seeing his defined bare back as he’s setting up the net, a pretty mundane task, but something about how concentrated he is, in addition to the way his muscles tense, is driving you crazy inside. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you had a fleeting crush on him for the time being, it’s not like you’re gonna see him much after anyways
Sometime during your haze, Jeonghan came up to ask if any of you girls wanted to play, you were too gone to answer, but Miyoo happily went along, and now they’re playing what seems like a friendly volleyball match, but you know it’s going to get competitive in no time. Minghao, Chan and Mingyu against Jeonghan, Vernon and Miyoo, it’s gonna get ugly.
Gyuri, Sami and Jihyun keep talking beside you, but you concentrate on the match, or you at least try to. You really try to, it’s just, he’s very distracting. The ball passes from one court to another swiftly, when one team scores, they make fun of the other and vice versa. The ball goes particularly far into Chan’s team’s court and Mingyu runs to get it, having to fall onto the sand to hit the ball from below, and it works, Minghao manages to throw it to the other team’s court, and they score.
It's common knowledge that people playing sports look as hot as they could possibly be, that’s probably why you’re basically drooling over Mingyu like he’s a full course meal and you haven’t had anything to eat in weeks.
Jihyun distracts you from your train of thought to tell you that her, Sami and Gyuri are going back inside to do something you don't get to hear. You're still a little in your head and only hum in response. Left alone with your thoughts, your eyes don’t want to leave Mingyu's figure, until his team ultimately wins the match thanks to points that he managed to score, and he glances at you, catching you staring, and smirks. That damn fucking smirk it’s gonna get you in trouble.
You lay down on your towel, because if your eyes are not on him, maybe you can get over it. Out of sight out of mind, as they say. But the peace is short-lived, as a few steps get close to you, getting sand all over your body and a shadow blocks the sun. You open your eyes reluctantly, and you wish you never opened them in the first place.
The sunlight is blinding, but not as much as the sight of Mingyu with his black swim shorts, sun-kissed skin, glistening from the sweat, and panting. It’s too much for you, and your eyes close instinctively, acting as if he didn’t disrupt your peace. You hear that damn chuckle, like a warning, before he sprinkles more sand on you.
“You’re really annoying, did you know that?” You intend to sound serious, but he’s caught up with your antics by now and just chuckles.
“Only when I’m trying to get someone’s attention.” You take a deep breath, to try and gather strength to not jump him right there and open your eyes as you sit up. He's quick to motion with his hands for you to scoot so he can sit beside you. Your eyes roll sarcastically, but you still slide to the side.
“How was the game?” The way he’s sitting, propped down on his elbows, tensing his biceps perfectly, almost like he’s doing it on purpose, so you try to focus on his face as he answers your question.
“They had nothing on us.” He says smugly while looking at the loser team undo the volleyball net. “But you saw that, so why are you asking?”
“What I saw was you struggling until the very end.” his teasing doesn’t get you this time, on the outside at least, because your mind is still a mess. “Good thing you managed to pull through though!”
He nods sarcastically at your response, but something else catches his attention before he can continue teasing.
“What’s their deal? Are they together?” You follow his eyes to see who he’s referring to: Vernon is running away from Miyoo, who’s chasing him with one of her flip flops on her hand and shouting something along the lines of ‘don’t run away you coward’. They’re both laughing, and you’re also used to it. You know their fights are not that serious.
“Vernon and Miyoo?” The hysterical laugh comes out of you before you’re able to stop it. “In Vernon’s dreams sure.” You joke but you can tell he’s seriously asking.
“Nah, I think she likes him too.” Mingyu lays down after his statement, with his hands behind his head, and closes his eyes to enjoy the last rays of sunshine of the day.
“Are they that obvious? You’ve been with them for three days and you already noticed." To you it was always obvious Vernon had a thing for Miyoo since Sami first introduced her to the group, but it’s funny that someone who doesn’t really know them also noticed.
“It’s always more obvious from the outside.” His answer catches you off guard. It leaves you thinking, and you can only hum in response. Were you that obvious when you liked Minghao? There were times when you felt Sami knew, but she never asked you about it, and since she and Minghao started dating you never felt those weird vibes again. Mingyu doesn’t press more on the subject at your silence, but yawns at your side and gets up, distracting you from your train of thought.
It’s beginning to get dark, bringing the temperatures down a bit, and the sunset paints the sky with a beautiful mix of oranges and pinks. It looks like a painting you’d see in an overpaid museum, and it would make that price totally worth it.
It seems you’re not the only one who noticed the pretty twilight sky, because Mingyu runs inside the house and comes back a few minutes later with a digital camera and wearing a black jacket for the cold wind. He walks around, taking pictures of different sides of the sky with different clouds and color patterns.
“Is that camera yours?” You prop down on your elbows to admire the sky and him, and you hear a light hum coming from him as an answer. “Didn’t know you were into photography.”
“I wouldn’t say I'm into photography, I just like taking pictures of what I find pretty.” Once he’s done taking pictures of the sky, he returns to his place beside you. “One of these days I want to wake up before the sun rises and just sit here, watching the stars disappear as the sun gets higher and higher.”
“It’ll probably be really peaceful.” Even if you’re alone at the beach now, you can still hear people talking from inside the house, probably deciding on what to have for dinner. You imagine sitting on the quiet shore at 6 am, with the only sound being the crashing waves and a few morning birds, the sky beginning to light up as the sun slowly rises and the morning wind ruffling your hair. “But the first step is to not get wasted the night before.”
“Or we could just stay awake and go to sleep after.”
“We? Who says I'm doing it with you?” You joke, but of course you’ll accompany him if he asked.
A sudden cold breeze makes you shiver and Mingyu notices, so he takes his jacket off and gestures for you to take it. You grab it silently, without much resistance, and notice he also put on a sleeveless t-shirt earlier. You’re embraced by his scent in no time. The jacket's giant on you when you put it on and zip it up, so the cold doesn’t make its way inside. You smile at him, and he returns it before answering your previous question.
“I’d just annoy you until you’re awake and you’d have no choice other than to come with me.” You can only chuckle at his response, wishing you could see what happens inside his mind.
“And I'd punch you for interrupting my holy sleep time.” You’re still laughing when you see a flash from the corner of your eye. “Did you just take a picture of me?” Mingyu shrugs with an amused look on his face and waits for the picture to load. “I probably look disgusting! Let me see.”
You try and stretch to take a glance at his camera roll, but he turns it off before you can see anything.
“Why would you look disgusting?”
“I... don’t know.” He has some kind of power to always surprise you with what he says. “I've been out here all day, I didn’t get the chance to check myself on the mirror.”
“I told you I only take photos of pretty things.”
This time, you can’t hide the blush that creeps up to your cheeks. No one has ever complimented you so directly, and it’s not like you’re new to flirting, but you’ve never quite felt like this. Maybe it’s because everything around you feels so dull, except for when you’re with him. When you’re around anyone else, you never feel the need to speak up, afraid they’ll don’t care or just straight up ignore you, but these past few days, when you spoke to him, you felt like he wouldn’t judge you. He paid attention, joked with you, and even chose to spend time with you when he could’ve hang out with anyone else. He's easy to be with, and it's tempting to want to spend every day with him, but also terrifying, because everything could change after the trip is over.
“Then let me see?” You try your luck one more time to see the photo, also to try and turn the conversation around so he doesn’t catch on to the effect he had on you, although it’s already too late.
“Don’t you trust me?” He looks at you with puppy eyes and a pout that could make anyone melt in an instant.
“Stop doing that!” You hit him lightly on his left arm.
“Doing what?” He replies, feigning innocence.
“You know what you’re doing.” Your look is serious, but he's amused by your reaction.
“And I think it’s working.” His eyes don’t leave yours, starting a staring contest between the two. None of you want to give up, raising your eyebrows to tease the other and titling your head to the side, but you don’t bulge and neither does he. You try to figure out the workings of his brain, if he feels the same things you do. You embarrassingly want to think that he does.
“Can I-”
“Guys!” Sami’s voice interrupts you and both you and Mingyu stop staring at each other to look at her, “Dinner is ready! Come inside!”
Only at her words do you realize the sun already fully set and the sky is painted a dark blue color, with the only thing visible being the moon and a few stars.
“W-we should get back inside.” You look back at Mingyu to find him already staring at you.
“What were you gonna say?” He stops you before you can get any farther.
“Oh, it’s nothing, c’mon they’re waiting for us.”
DAY FOUR
“And then she ghosted me! The nerve!” Gyuri finishes telling her story about a girl she hooked up with last month.
“But didn’t you just say you didn’t really wanna be with her? I don’t get it.” Jihyun asks what all of you were thinking.
“Yeah, but like, I don’t want to be the ghosted one!” You, Sami and Jihyun burst into laughter at her words.
You and the girls are sitting on the living room while the guys and Miyoo are outside playing a rematch from yesterday’s game of beach volleyball. As soon as everyone finished eating dinner, Miyoo demanded a rematch and everyone, with their competitive souls, agreed immediately. It’s already dark outside, but with the back lights on it’s possible to play, at least for a while before your eyes get tired.
The four of you ended up sitting around the coffee table, talking about relationship drama or just telling funny stories. You don’t have much to add to the conversation, so you just say a comment or joke from time to time and give your opinion when asked. That’s until you’re given the spotlight.
“So, Y/N,” Gyuri catches you off guard and you look at her confused, “what’s up with you and Mingyu?”
“That’s right! I see you together a lot these days.” Sami adds excitedly. Three pairs of eyes are now watching you closely, curious for your answer.
“Oh, nothing… I don’t know.” You shy away when a little smile cracks at your lips, hugging your knees close as you glance at the beach to see if you can spot Mingyu, but all you see is a blur due to the poor lighting. “We just happen to end up together a lot I think.” It is partially true, because it’s not like you actively searched for him.
“C’mon! Don’t you think he’s hot?” Gyuri’s so forward she just makes you laugh. “If I wasn’t a lesbian lemme tell you, the things I would do.”
“Gyuri oh my god! He's right there, have some decency.” Sami brings her back to earth.
“Right, sorry sorry.” she apologizes and takes a sip of her beer before speaking to you again. “But really, you should do something!”
“Like what? I don’t know guys maybe he’s not interested.” Do you want him to be?
“I saw you two at the beach yesterday and trust me, he is.” Sami puts her hand on your shoulder to make you look at her, and tries to encourage you, with no bad intentions whatsoever. She just wants to see you happy and you know that.
His words from the night before echo in your head. ‘It’s always more obvious from the outside'. But you don’t really want to talk about it out loud with them, afraid you’ll jinx it. Jihyun throws you a knowing look and opens her mouth, but she gets interrupted before she can outer a word.
“Guys! Guess what-” Chan suddenly enters the house and the four of you shut up instantly, guilty look on your faces. “Wow what were you talking about? Am I not allowed to hear it?”
“It’s girl stuff!” Jihyun doesn’t hide that he is in fact, not allowed to hear your conversation, and throws a pillow his way, but he doesn't budge. “What do you want?”
“What I was going to say was... we beat them!” You chuckle and the four of you applaud lightly.
“That’s great babe!”
“You should’ve seen them when we-” Chan comes inside to show off their win when gets interrupted by a sudden darkness. The power went out, and everything and everyone sits in silence for about two seconds before Jeonghan comes in.
“How does everyone feel about turning on the fireplace?”
Lighting the fireplace on turned out to be a great idea. Hours passed and the power is still out. All ten of you are sitting on the couches and on the floor, surrounding the only source of light and warmth, and drinking the beer that’s left from the previous days before it loses its gas.
It’s warm and cozy, and everyone is engaged in different conversations with the people by their side. You listen as Jeonghan talks about his new job at a museum, trying to pay attention, but it’s really difficult when, from the corner of your eye, you can see Mingyu and Minghao talking comfortably. It’s weird, seeing the guy that caused you so many emotional breakdowns over the past year talking with the only guy who was able to make you forget about it. Even if every day that passes you feel yourself getting more and more over him, there’s this little voice on the back of your brain reminding you how you stupidly thought you might’ve had a chance with him.
Someone by your side shifts and you see Jeonghan’s expression change before he exclaims, “no touchy coupley things when we’re all around!” Everyone’s eyes are now on the couple behind you. Jihyun just sat on Chan’s legs and they're just hugging, but Jeonghan’s low-key right, most of you are single and it looks like they're rubbing it on your faces, even if it’s not what they want.
“You’re just jealous because you’re lonely and sad.” Jihyun rebuttals and everyone huffs. It’s normal for them to bicker like this, so you just watch like it’s a comedy show.
“I’m single by choice, I’m not letting anyone tie me down.” Jeonghan replies proudly.
“Didn’t you go out with that girl for the whole winter? What was her name... Miyeon? Or what about Seungcheol last year?”
“Well, I’m all free now so”
“Then don’t come to me asking for tips on what to say to girls ever again.” That is the kind of burn that makes Gyuri start clapping like crazy, which she does.
“I’m sure everyone gets what I mean.” Jeonghan looks around, checking to see if anyone agrees with him. Even if it's quite dark, you can see a few heads nod in agreement, including yours.
“Oh c’mon! Doesn’t anyone here have feelings for someone?” Now Jihyun is the one looking for backup, but it’s something harder to admit. “If you like someone, then you know you want to be close to them, to touch them!” She makes eye contact with you, knowing you do understand her, because she was the only one you told about Minghao, because you used to tell her everything.
“No one?” She asks again, looking at everyone one by one, but no one comes forward. And she lastly looks at you again. You shake your head as panic starts invading you, fearing everyone will notice why you, what she means. You make eye contact with her probably for less than a second, but it feels like your whole life passes in front of your eyes.
“Ok, fair enough.” The tense climate stills the air, because even if Jihyun agreed to minimize the public displays of affection, her speech got to some of you, and it takes a few minutes for everything to go back to normal.
But you’re still anxious. You never discussed what happened with Minghao after you found out he was seeing Sami, you couldn’t. Her indirectly letting you know she remembers makes you feel seen, exposed, bare, like she just disclosed your deepest secret to the whole world, like everyone now knows the most pathetic thing about you.
Eventually, the atmosphere starts getting full of laughs and different voices again, but you’re still in your head, so much so that you almost don’t notice the power is back on.
As everyone is celebrating, you get up and announce quietly that you’re going to call it a night. Throwing some lame excuse, but no one really bats an eye, they just say goodnight and go back to their conversations. Everyone except for one person.
Mingyu, who’s been keeping an eye on you the whole night, and who’s already accustomed to your shyness, noticed that you got more reserved after Jihyun’s speech, but didn’t want to ask you anything that would make you uncomfortable in front on everyone. So, when you rapidly escape to go back to your room, he takes the opportunity to leave as well, putting the same excuse you did about being tired and not wanting to wake up super hangover again.
As you’re in tucked in bed, about to burst out crying in any second, Mingyu knocks softly on your door.
You don’t answer, staying as still as possible, trying to stop your sobs so nothing can be heard from outside. It’s been a few minutes since you left, so maybe it’s believable that you’re already asleep.
“Are you alright?” Hearing Mingyu’s voice shatters you and the tears and sobs become impossible to stop.
“Yeah, everything’s fine!” You wouldn’t believe you if you were him.
“You’re not fine.” He sounds actually worried
“How would you know? Just leave me alone!” Your voice breaks at the last words, telling Mingyu everything he needs to know
“I can’t just leave if I know you’re crying."
“Yes, you can! Just go!"
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” A playful tone mixes in his voice. “You can talk to me.” You know, but this is different. This is exposing something to him that makes you feel pathetic, idiotic, and it's much more than you ever told anyone
There’s silence while you consider letting him in. He’s not a stranger, not anymore, but he’s oblivious enough to the situation that he wouldn’t care about the drama. Maybe you can trust him not to tell anyone. And he cared enough to come and check on you, which is way more than what anyone else did.
Mingyu waits for you, worried about what could’ve caused you to leave so suddenly and start crying alone in your room.
“I’ll be in my room if you need anyth-" He was about to give up when you open your door just barely, as to not let the corridor light reveal your blotched, tear-stained face. But you don’t stay there, you run back to the bed as he figures out that you’re letting him in.
He enters your room carefully, slowly stepping in and closing the door behind him. Even with the lights off, he sees you sitting on your bed, legs crossed and back against the wall while you’re fidgeting with your fingers, avoiding his eyes. Before he says anything, he sits beside you on the bed, testing what you’re comfortable with. When he’s sure you’re not going to tell him to fuck off, you finally hear his voice.
“What’s wrong?” He experimentally puts one hand on your knee, trying to comfort you, but it ultimately makes you sob a little before you reply.
“You have to promise not to make fun of me.” You’re still avoiding looking at him, entranced looking at his hand, but when he doesn’t answer you for a few seconds, you look to the side to meet his eyes, and only then he notices how serious your request is.
“I’d never make fun of you, or what made you sad like this.” He fixes his posture, sitting back against the wall like you and legs stretched on the bed. “If you’re comfortable, you can tell me, but if you’re not, then I can at least try and make you feel better, take your mind somewhere else, whatever you need.”
Stupid. You feel stupid. Crying about something that happened months ago, about a guy that isn’t really worth your time, when in front of you have this perfect man that for two days has made you feel more comfortable than anyone has ever. Sure, you don’t know if he just does this for all his friends, if you can even call this a friendship, but at least he cares. In this moment, you feel you could tell him anything, your deepest secrets, and he would welcome it with open arms. You'd do the same for him.
“You also can’t tell anyone,” you rush to add, “like, not even Chan, okay?”
Mingyu nods, a little smile showing up at his face as he realizes you’re really trusting him. “I promise.”
And you do. You open up to him, trusting him with what you have been carrying on your back these past few months that you didn’t trust no one else with.
You tell him how you always liked Minghao. How you found out you actually went to the same middle school but didn’t know each other. And how you thought he liked you back. How you don’t even like to talk about people you fancy, but you trusted Jihyun with it, before she distanced from your group and from you. How she suddenly became close with Minghao and his friends. How every time you managed to be with Jihyun alone, she would show off that she talked on the phone with him every day, that she regularly crashed at his place after work, that he often paid for her meals. She obviously had started liking him too, and it killed you inside. You couldn’t talk to her because his name would always come up somehow. A few weeks pass, you fight with your friends, and Jihyun and her new group welcome you in. They start inviting you to their hangouts, to their houses (often Chan’s). You always felt a little bit out of place, even if Chan and Jihyun always tried to invite you, and even if they always made sure to engage with you in conversations. But you were happy, you had a group of friends you saw every week, who made you laugh if you were going through rough times, and you got to spend time with the guy you liked. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good, until it wasn’t.
And after you finished senior year, the group was still intact. Hanging out whenever everyone could and talking on the group chat constantly. Except, you saw Minghao more often because you got into the same college, and even though you were on different majors, you still managed to bump into each other. One Friday, long after, everyone managed to get free to see each other after so long, you all went to some bar and you didn’t realize how late it got, so Minghao, being that he lived close to you, offered to take you home. Things happened and you ended up sleeping together. He was your first, God how pathetic is that, and it just solidified how much you liked him, and you thought it meant something for him too. But nothing changed after that, you two never talked about it and he just pretended nothing happened. And you didn’t tell anyone about it.
Months later, on Chan’s birthday, people started telling inside jokes that you didn’t understand about Sami and Minghao, teasing them to no end until they both turned red. When you looked at Gyuri for context, she whispered that they’ve been on numerous dates in the last few months. Your heart dropped, you had to pretend that everything was fine for the rest of the night, but as soon as you got home, you started crying and overthinking. If this was going on for months, were they already something when he slept with you? Did that solidify to him that he liked Sami? All the times you thought maybe Minghao was flirting with you were probably just your mind fucking with you, or the worst cascenario, he was flirting with the both of you until he decided which one he liked best. You felt stupid, pathetic, but most of all you felt betrayed. Because everyone knew, including Jihyun. And all this time you geeked to her about every interaction with Minghao, telling her every detail, she knew he was seeing someone else. Sure, your relationship had changed, she had new best friends, and she probably didn’t want to disclose something about Sami’s personal life, but letting you delude yourself was just mean.
Days passed, and a new secret was revealed to you, that Jihyun and Chan started dating. This just enforced what you thought that she just didn’t trust you anymore, you weren’t as much of a part of her life as before. You never talked about Minghao with her again, the last time she asked you about him was the same day you found out her and Chan were dating, almost half a year ago. But the topic ended there, and it was never brought up again, until tonight.
“So, earlier when she talked about liking someone and she looked directly at me,” you breathe for the first time in at least half an hour that you’ve been talking to Mingyu nonstop, “she was referring to me liking him, and I felt so exposed, her looking at me right in the eye trying to make me confess to liking someone just so she can win an argument, it felt like I was naked and at her mercy in front of everyone.” You feel like a huge weight was lifted from your shoulders.
You can still feel tears rolling down your face. Sometime during your talk, Mingyu put his arm around you, and you rested your head on his shoulder. You’re sure his sweatshirt must be damp with tears now.
He doesn’t say anything for a while, letting you calm down and stabilizing your breathing. You concentrate on his breathing and his fingers drawing circles on your shoulder.
“Thank you.” You finally speak up after a few minutes of silence.
“For what?”
“For listening.” You answer like it’s an obvious thing. “It was a lot, and you didn’t have to, but you listened anyway.”
“Of course, and I asked, didn’t I?” You chuckle lightly. He has a way of making everything easier.
“So, what do you think?”
“Do you really want my opinion?”
“I asked, didn’t I?” You copy what he said before and he chuckles.
“I think you should tell them how you feel.” You don’t look at him, but you can feel his eyes on you, as if analyzing how you respond to what he said. “They’re your friends after all, they’ll understand.”
“I've thought about it, I’m not very good at that kind of talks, I kinda just keep it to myself until I get over it.”
“I don’t mean to be harsh, but it doesn’t seem to be working.” It’s hard hearing that, but it’s true. You’ve been carrying this for years and you’re still crying over it.
“Wow.” He’s not trying to be mean, but it really left you speechless. “Maybe I should… to get it off my chest at least.”
“You don’t have to, but maybe you’ll get some closure with Jihyun that way, that’s the only way she’ll know she’s making you upset.”
“No, you’re right, I’ll talk to her.” When? You don’t know. "But only her, talking with Minghao kind of scares me, because what do I do if he forgot about it?”
“Don’t tell anyone but,” he starts, and you smile at his silliness, “I never really found Minghao likeable in the first place, I don’t know why, but now I have a reason to dislike him.” You can’t help to laugh.
“You don’t have to dislike him just because of what I told you, you should get to know him!” You don’t resent Minghao for what happened, and he’s still someone you can call a friend, regardless of your history.
You dare to look up at Mingyu from his shoulder, and your face is much closer to his than you thought. It’s dark in your room, only the moonlight providing you with enough light for you to see how his head turns slowly to meet yours, and his eyes encountering yours, like he knew you were staring at him.
“He’s an ass for what he did to you, and I don’t want to be friends with someone like that.” He speaks softly, almost in a whisper, but with such a serious tone that it gives you goosebumps. Your eyes can’t seem to leave his, and neither of you want to stop. It’s becoming a habit of you two to stare at each other, testing who’ll look away first. His breath fans over your face, and you think about his words. You knew Mingyu was a good listener, he proved it several times over the span of four days, but now he’s even taking what you said into consideration before establishing a friendship with someone? Sure, he already didn’t really like Minghao, or so he said, but you gave him a reason to, so he must believe and trust you enough to truly take it into account.
This time, Mingyu breaks the silence first. “Let’s go watch the sunrise tomorrow.” But he doesn’t break the eye contact. You swear you see a little spark in his eyes at his words, and it makes impossible for you to say no.
“You really want me to go with you?” You just want confirmation that he does, that he’s not taking pity in you after crying your eyes out in front of him.
“It’ll be sad if I go alone, and besides, you’re the one I like the most here.” And it’s like a thousand butterflies fly out of their cocoon simultaneously inside your stomach. "Don’t tell Chan I said that.” You both laugh at his words.
“We should go to sleep then, what time does the sun come out? Like 5:30 am?” You groan while saying the last words. You were never a morning person.
Cold hits you all around when Mingyu takes his arm off your shoulders and gets off your bed. You almost want to ask him to stay the night here so you can wake up together. But you don’t.
“I’ll come and wake you up, but don’t punch me please.” He jokes about what you said the day before and you chuckle. “Good night, see you in a few hours.” He says as he walks to your door slowly, hoping you’d ask him to stay. But you don’t, and he doesn’t say anything either.
DAY FIVE
Waking up so early in the morning isn’t difficult. You barely got any sleep; you spent the whole time watching the ceiling overthinking about everything that happened. You even heard Mingyu’s alarm in the distance, so when he knocked to wake you up, you were already ready.
The sky is starting to show more colors as the minutes pass. You’re sitting on a mat at the beach while Mingyu’s inside making coffee for the both of you. Is it wrong to think that there may be something more to your friendship with Mingyu? You’re almost certain you’re starting to like him, and these moments you’ve been having together don’t do anything to suppress your bubbling feelings. It’s dangerous, and you don’t want to let it go too far, not again.
You hear his steps behind you before you see him. He hands you the coffee in silence and you thank him with a smile. You’re both slowly sipping away your coffee admiring the colors of the sky as they become more alive the more the sun comes out. The soft morning breeze gives you chills, but the warm cup in your hand eases it away, and the waves crashing provide with enough background noise for it to not be completely silent. But being quiet with him hasn’t been uncomfortable, you don’t feel the need to fill the void, you’re just two people enjoying each other’s company.
As the sky turns orange and pink, with swirling clouds making it look like a painting, Mingyu takes his camera out and takes photos beside you. You watch him as he does his thing, changing the settings of the camera and picking different angles, mesmerized, and you don’t notice he says something to you.
“Sorry?” You come back to earth and find him looking at you already.
“I said I’m glad we did this.” His smile almost outshines the sun.
“Me too.” You smile back, afraid to show just how you really like to be with him, afraid to scare him away.
“You’re the first person that doesn’t think I’m weird for wanting to do this you know?” He mutters after he puts down the camera. “People always tell me it’s too much of a sacrifice.”
“That’s so stupid!” You huff, incredulous look on your face. “I get not wanting to wake up early on vacation but like, a sacrifice? That’s so dramatic.”
“You get it! Thank you.”
It’s quiet for a little while after. Every few minutes a new shade of orange paints the sky and Mingyu points his camera up to take more pictures. He probably took a thousand pictures already but shows no sign of stopping. You opt for laying down, the little sleepiness you felt already slipped away, and you’re left with your thoughts until Mingyu lays down too.
“I wish we could freeze time and just stay here like this.” You prefer being here alone with him than inside the house getting overwhelmed by everything. Here, it’s much peaceful, comfortable.
“That would be nice wouldn’t it.”
The sun is fully out by now, the birds already started singing on the background, and you can hear cars on the distance. The day officially started, you’re no longer on the limbo in between yesterday and tomorrow.
After everyone wakes up and has breakfast together, you and Mingyu take a quick nap before lunch time. Eventually the lack of sleep got to both of you, and you weren’t even able to keep a conversation going.
The house is suspiciously silent when you wake up, it’s probably 3 or 4 pm but no one seems to be at the house. Except for the one person you encounter when you go out to the porch for some air.
“Hey! You're finally awake!” Jihyun greets you with excitement, too oblivious about what happened the day before, “that was some nap!” Maybe you should really tell her, she has the right to know if you’re mad or upset at her. It's not like she forgot about what you’ve told her, you just have to let her know how that makes you feel. It’s easy!
“I think I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow, I must’ve been too tired.” It comes out a little colder than you intended, hopefully she’ll mistake it by sleepiness.
“Were you okay yesterday? You went to bed so suddenly.” Now’s the time, you can’t just lie now, if you don’t tell her now then it’s pointless.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.” You go to the point straight away and she notices your serious tone.
“Is everything okay?” There’s a little voice in your head telling you she’s not actually worried, but right now you decide not to believe it
“It’s about what you said yesterday, I wanted to ask you...” your hands shake as you lean against the rail by her side, looking at the beach, not so peaceful like in the morning now, and you turn your head to look at her. “It may be stupid but, were you like, indirectly asking me if I still like Minghao?” You do feel stupid as the words leave your mouth.
“Oh, I don’t really remember why I did that, I was kinda drunk and saying stupid shit.” You relax a little, at least she wasn’t trying to put you on the spotlight on purpose. “But maybe? I mean you never talked about him again.”
“I just thought it was awkward, since I became friends with everyone.” The conversation isn’t really going anywhere. You could leave it like this, but the topic out in the open and it could be the only chance to get answers, “and with you also liking him and all that.”
“I-I didn’t, I mean-” she stutters, and suddenly dropping the bomb that you know more information than she gave to you in the first place doesn’t feel right.
“It’s okay, well no it’s not really, you should’ve told me, but I’m past it by now.” Jihyun visibly relaxes at your words, but the air starts getting thicker, the atmosphere awkward.
“You’re right I should’ve told you, I’m sorry.” She avoids your eyes. You’re looking right at her, but she keeps her eyes on the ocean, or the sand, or literally anywhere else. “It was just a silly crush, it didn’t mean anything.”
“I don’t think it was, but it’s fine.” How can she just brush it off so easily?
“Actually, you don’t know how it was.” Suddenly now she’s capable of facing you, and her eyes are almost on fire, “we weren’t even friends by then, so you don’t know what it was like.”
“Why are you saying that like it’s my fault?” Anger starts to take over your brain, “and we were definitely still friends.”
“It just wasn’t the same and you know it.”
"You were the one who pushed me aside!”
“I pushed you aside? I welcomed you! When you were alone! I invited you to every hangout, every party, I invited you everywhere!”
“You stopped trusting me.” There’s a noticeable hurt in your voice, “you didn’t even tell me when you started to like Chan.”
“You were too busy feeling sorry for yourself that you didn’t notice, even Vernon noticed, and he has zero awareness of what happens around him.”
“Because my best friend liked the same guy as me and didn’t even tell me!”
“I just couldn’t tell you.”
“Yes, you could’ve! and I really still wanted to be friends with you, at least I thought we still were.” Flashbacks of times your other friends told you how you should stop taking to her come to your mind. “And you did tell me.” Jihyun looks confused at your statement. “Maybe not directly, but every time you decided I was good enough to have alone time with, and knowing just how much I liked Minghao, the only thing you ever talked about was him, and how smart he was, or how funny he was, or how he let you have his jacket, it was pretty obvious.”
Jihyun freezes in place. She looks down again and red stains start appearing on her cheeks.
“So yeah, I didn’t exactly want to talk about him with you.” This really isn’t turning out the way you thought it would.
“I- I didn’t realize,” you barely hear her whisper, “I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”
“Did you also just didn’t realize that it would’ve been nice to tell me that they were going out?” Their names aren’t said out loud, but Jihyun knows what you’re talking about, “I had to found out myself, and everyone knew except for me, stupid old me who was obliviously still hung up on him.”
“I’m sorry.” If you weren’t so angry, maybe you’d take pity on her and stop arguing, but at this moment, it just makes you madder.
“Do you know how horrible it is to see the girl who used to give you insecurities and the guy you’ve liked for years be together? Or how hard it is not to cry in that moment? Surrounded by other people who don’t know how you feel, while the only person who did know just ignores you?” Tears start blurring your vision, but you don’t let them fall, you can’t. “Luckily I don’t like him anymore, but the guilt is killing me.”
“She asked me not to tell anyone, they weren’t serious at first.”
“You could’ve just told me beforehand that he was seeing someone, you didn’t have to tell me who it was.”
“I’m sorry, I really am.” Jihyun looks at you in the eyes for the first time in minutes, her eyes also glittery with tears.
“And yesterday, I felt so exposed, like you only wanted me to confess so you could win a stupid argument, like my feelings didn’t matter at all.”
“I really wasn’t trying to do that, I’m serious.”
“It doesn’t matter what you wanted or didn’t want to do, that’s how it made me feel.”
“I’m sorry.” The front door opens on the other side of the house and a chorus of voices reaches your ears. What a time to have a full house again.
You both look inside at the first sound, and you can feel her eyes on you again a second after, but you can’t turn your head, you can’t look at her, not right now. Without looking back, your feet walk you off to the beach, maybe with a load off your shoulders, but a little more broken than before.
A walk alone might just be what you need. Tears don’t fall, the wind blowing them off before they can. By the time you come back, you find someone else alone on the porch, and it’s almost like the universe wants you to suffer today.
Minghao stands in the same place you were before, with his body resting on the rail and looking at the ocean. He sees you at the distance and waves, but you can only find the energy to give him half a smile.
It’s impossible to ignore him now, so you walk over to him and stand by his side in silence. But that doesn’t last long. Something in you seems to want to let go today, free you from everything you’ve been holding inside for so long. At this moment, revealing to him how you felt seems like the best option, and you don’t argue with your brain about it.
“I’m gonna tell you something,” your words catch his attention, and he turns his head to you, but you stay still looking ahead, “but you don’t have to say anything back, it’s just so I can let it go, okay?”
Minghao nods slowly, confused by your words but listening, nevertheless.
“I used to really like you, you know.” Your gaze catches his for a second before going back, “I don’t anymore, but yeah, I just wanted to get it off my chest.”
His mouth opens, as if he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out. His silence doesn’t scare you like you thought it would. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, and I don’t expect you to say anything.”
“I just… I didn’t know.” He sounds apologetic as he replies. Maybe it’s better that he didn’t know, it would be embarrassing if he or anyone else knew.
“We never talked about what happened between us.” It pains you to remember, but now you have to finish what you started, “but it meant something to me, I know for you it was probably nothing, because you started seeing Sami right after, and don’t get me wrong you two are perfect together I’m not trying to interfere, but yeah, it really hurt me that you just pretended that everything was normal after.” You finish with a sigh of relief. Everything you’ve been holding onto is now out in the open, and you’ve never felt so relieved, like you could finally breathe.
“I was an ass.” His statement is surprising. “I don’t have any excuse for what I did, I was truly an ass, and I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you were.” You joke as you turn around, and he chuckles. You catch a glimpse of the living room through the window and see Mingyu sitting on the couch with Chan and Jeonghan. The three are paying attention to Vernon, who’s standing up telling a story, making dramatic movements with his arms.
“Are you okay?” Minghao asks and catches your attention again.
“I had a fight with Jihyun.” You don’t want to tell him, and you hope he doesn’t ask about it further. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Okay.” It’s a little awkward, but there’s nothing you can do now. You told him what you had to, and he apologized. “I’m gonna go inside then, is everything okay between us?” He’s almost at the door when he asks.
“Definitely, and sorry I dumped all of that out of nowhere.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.” With that, he finally goes in and joins the guys on the couch.
After dinner’s over and everyone moved from the dining room and onto the couches, you’re left alone picking everything up and doing the dishes. After three days of cooking every meal, you collectively chose to order from a local restaurant instead, so luckily there's not much to clean.
Dinner was awkward as it has never been. Jihyun couldn’t look you in the eyes, even if she tried to act as if nothing happened. And not a word came out of your mouth, besides when you offered to do the dishes. No one else probably noticed the weird energy in the room, but to you it was suffocating.
As you’re putting the glasses on the sink, Mingyu re-enters the room. You try not to pay too much attention to him as he walks over to you, even if your skin tingles every time he’s around.
“Do you wanna go for a walk around town?” He has to crouch down to whisper in your ear.
“Right now? I promised to do the dishes.” The idea excites you for sure. The house has been weighing you down all day, and spending time alone with Mingyu is an activity you’re starting to love too much these days. But you also fear what everyone might say if you leave out of nowhere.
“We’ll get someone else to do it.” You’re not usually this easy to convince, but for him it’s suddenly too easy.
“Fine, but you do the talking.” He chuckles as he motions for you to follow him.
His back is hypnotizing as you walk behind him. His hair is damp from the quick shower he went to take right after he finished his plate. The woody smell of his cologne reaches you strongly, and you fear it may become your favorite smell ever.
You manage to get past everyone that’s lounging on the living room without getting noticed, but as Mingyu’s about to open the front door, Chan comes out of the bathroom and bumps into you, questioning look on his face. Before he can ask anything, Mingyu tells him that you two will go out and to please do the dishes. Chan's brows don’t stop frowning, but in the end, he lets you go out, agreeing with a groan.
It's the first time you’ve been out of the house for the last few days. The supply runs that were done you didn’t go, and the beach is kind of a part of the house, so it doesn’t count. The fresh night air hits you when you step on the street, and with Mingyu by your side, you no longer feel suffocated, you can finally breathe.
When Mingyu starts walking in one direction, you follow him. Since him, Chan and their family have been coming here every summer for their entire lives, he knows the town pretty well and you trust him to guide you.
You walk around the streets for a while, talking about trivial things, telling each other anecdotes and joking around, getting to know each other more than you were able the past few days. Because even if you spent quite some time together, it was always situational, but right now, alone with no one you know around, it’s much easier to let go.
The town feels cozy and warm, like the hometown from a Christmas movie. It’s very quiet and you don’t encounter many people, only the occasional old couple that goes out for a walk or few people walking their dogs.
“How come I’ve never met you before? I went to your house multiple times.” You ask when you decide to sit down at a park.
Such a strong presence like his is hard to ignore, but somehow, after all these years of being friends with his brother, you only heard about him, never met. Your friends would talk about him from time to time, and you were always itching to meet him, but it was like he was never there.
“I let Chan have his space when he has people over.” He shrugs as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, but it’s something that’s been plaguing your head ever since you were introduced.
“But you've met the others?”
“They're at our house a lot, a little more than I'd like if I'm being honest.” You both chuckle at his statement.
“Yeah, they can be a little annoying and loud but that’s why I like them, they can take your mind off other things.” A lot of times, when you were having a rough day or you were sad about something, having fun with them would make you forget about everything. Focusing on a stupid cooking competition Gyuri made up or playing a new card game Jeonghan discovered, those would become your favorite days.
“I know you said you don’t really like Minghao for some reason, but what about the rest? Don't you like them?” You’ve seen him talk with everyone by now, so you’re just curious.
“Is it bad that I don’t care about them enough? To have an opinion on them I mean. They're just my brother's friends.”
“Are you saying you don’t have an opinion about me?” Deep down, you really want to know what he thinks about you, and why he seems to want to spend time with you out of all the others.
“I'd like to think you’re not just my brother’s friend by now.” That could mean a lot of things, but it doesn’t stop your stomach from contracting and a smile from appearing on your face.
“That does not answer my question!” You push him lightly to the side, so he doesn’t see the tiniest blush creeping up your cheeks.
“I already told you I like you the most out of everyone at the house.” He keeps finding the words to make your mind collapse and saying them so nonchalantly.
“You only said that to make me feel better because I was crying.”
“I mean it.” The poor lighting at the park doesn’t prevent you from seeing the truthfulness in Mingyu’s eyes. “I wouldn’t have asked you out here with me if I didn’t.”
“That’s good.” You respond through a smile, and you see his smile form in his eyes before the rest of his face joins.
“Why?”
“You might be becoming my favorite too.” The confession shocks you as it leaves your mouth, and you regret it instantly. But when you see him getting shy, and even detect a little blush on his ears, it proves worth it. “Should we get back? It’s getting really late.”
The walk back is just as calm and comforting as before. But the difference is you’re much more aware of Mingyu by your side. How his hand slightly brushes yours every now and then, sparking electricity that runs through your veins and birthing just a tiny bit of hope that he’ll connect them for once. How your steps coordinate even if his legs are much longer than yours. You don’t care if your being quiet, not with him.
“I have seen you around at my house, I just never went over and said hi.” He confesses after a few minutes. “I really should’ve, we could’ve met sooner.” There’s a tone of regret in his voice, and his eyes shine at the possibility.
“You’d like that?” His words warm up your insides and you can’t resist the smile that breaks on your face as you look at him.
“Yeah.” His eyes shine as they meet yours, entranced. “I feel like an asshole. Chan always invited me to hang out with you guys when I was home, but I always refused, I don't know why.”
“I get it.” You both look at the empty road ahead, breaking the eye contact before you trip and fall. “I probably would’ve done the same.”
“But, eventually I met everyone, except for you.”
“Maybe we were meant to meet this way.” Your choice of words makes him look at you with curiosity. “Like maybe if we met before you wouldn’t have spared me a second thought and you wouldn’t have asked me to ride with you on the way here.”
“You believe in destiny and that stuff?” There’s no mocking tone on his voice, but you’re still careful with your answer.
“Something like that, more like the universe prepares us for our future, like we go through things for a reason.” You feel a little stupid talking about it out loud, but Mingyu won’t judge you. “I try to see the good in the bad, is it silly?”
“I do believe in destiny, so if it’s silly then I’m fucked too.” His joke takes a laugh out of you and your eyes connect again. “You look really pretty when you smile.”
“Oh, shut up!” You avoid his eyes by looking down, but your red stained cheeks reveal his effect on you. Why is he saying all of these things all of the sudden? The talk about wishing to meet sooner and destiny already had your stomach filled with butterflies, but his sudden flirting makes your insides want to explode.
“Missed it today.” You look up slowly at him. “You looked down at dinner earlier, did something happen?”
“I impulsively talked with Jihyun, and it didn’t end well.” You start fidgeting with your fingers, embarrassed by your behavior. “She tried to apologize but, in the moment, it didn’t feel genuine to me, so I kinda just stormed off.”
“At least you got to tell her what you felt.” Your head tilts like you can’t believe what he’s saying. “See the good in the bad, like you said.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” You huff, but the release of all those pent-up feelings did feel relieving. “And I also talked to Minghao after all.”
“Oh yeah I saw you guys talking earlier, how did that go?” It’s disappointing to see you’re already back at the front of the house. You don’t want the night to end, you wanna keep carelessly talking with Mingyu forever.
“Better I think.” You shrug as he lets you in. “I told him that I used to like him.” He follows right behind you as you walk towards your rooms. The lights are all turned off, the silence interrupted by your steps and your voices. No one’s up beside you two. “It was awkward but at least I got it off my chest.”
“Used to? You don’t like him anymore?” Mingyu asks with curiosity. A tiny glint of hope reveals in his eyes waiting for your response.
When you think about why you liked Minghao, you can’t really think of much. Memories of times he’d remember details about you or say casual flirty things come to mind, but is that enough to like someone? Times when he straight up ignored you to go after his friends, or when he couldn’t even say hi to you when you saw each other in college always made you doubt.
“I don’t know if I ever really liked him actually.” Saying it out loud feels almost freeing.
“How so?” It’s scary to open up to someone like you’re doing with Mingyu, but for some reason you find it easy to tell him things you’ve never said out loud.
“I think I just liked the idea of a guy I found attractive liking me, even if he never actually did.” You always thought he was attractive, and when he’d say little flirty things to you your stomach your burn up. But before that started you didn’t think about him in that way. “I don’t know if it was all in my head or not.”
“Any guy would be really stupid not to like you.” He stands with his back against the wall beside his door, looking down at you with the most honesty you’ve ever seen in his eyes.
“You keep saying things like that.” Confusing you, giving you hope. The wall hits you as you stand back, staring at him in the same position he is. Both beside your doors, you could end the night right now, stop this back and forth between you, but something keeps you out here, longing for him to do something.
“I mean what I say.” It feels like a challenge was laid down in front of you, but you want him to take the first step.
“I know.” He smirks at your words.
“Good.” His eyes stare so intensely, like he’s trying to read your mind, to know every thought passing through your mind. He’s usually very hypnotizing, but right now, under the moonlight, flirty haze and smirk adorning his face, you can’t look away.
Everything around you blurs as you stare at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence, to make a move, to do anything. Every second it passes the tension becomes more and more palpable, even the tiniest move might snap it. But the both of you stay static, only a faint noise of rain beginning to fall filling the silence.
Seconds feel like minutes, and every second that passes that Mingyu does nothing gets more disappointing. Maybe it was all in your head after all.
Defeated, you throw a little smile and a muffled ‘good night' at him as your hand turns your doorknob, and you finally break eye contact, entering your room slowly as his face drops.
When you close the door, you regret it instantly. You stand there, listening attentively for any noise. Is he still standing there? Maybe you should’ve done something, maybe he was also waiting for you.
There’s no noise coming from outside, and as more seconds pass, you lose hope. You don’t even breathe in case it blocks any possible noise from reaching your ears, but it’s pointless.
You take a step closer to the door and open it slightly, stupidly hoping he might be waiting for you, but the hallway’s completely empty.
Once again, you deluded yourself into thinking an attractive guy might like you, even if this time the “signs” seemed so much clearer, but it clearly didn’t mean anything. You don’t regret spending time with him though, he actually helped you a lot these past few days, it’s your fault you thought it meant something else.
DAY SIX
After tossing and turning all night, sleeping in short periods of time while your mind over thinks instead of resting, you finally check the time and see it’s a normal hour to wake up.
You won’t admit, you kinda hoped Mingyu had texted you during the night. Your stomach contracts as you remember how he gave you his number a few days ago:
Everyone was sitting on the couches hanging out. It was early in the afternoon, but no one had really any plans. Mingyu was sitting in between you and Gyuri. They were talking about some band they both like. You grabbed your phone to google something he said, sure he got a fact wrong. When you smugly showed it to him, he huffed defeated, and grabbed your phone to read it again. But then you noticed he started typing something really fast. You looked at Gyuri by his side with a questioning look on your face, but she just raised her eyebrows teasingly after looking at what he was doing. When he returned the phone to you, it was on the contact list, a new one stood with his name on it.
Doesn’t really matter now, as you probably won’t use it after the vacation is over.
A smell of some kind of breakfast welcomes you as you open your door, someone is cooking something really yummy, but before you move forward to check who it is, Mingyu’s open door draws your attention. Judging by the time and his empty bedroom, it’s most likely he will be the one standing in the kitchen right now, and you can’t stand to face him. Not after last night. Not after you embarrassed yourself.
The sound of your stomach growling reminds you to feed it, and you remember a cute cafe you saw the night before while walking.
You manage to head out without the mystery person hearing and walk to where you remember the shop was. The sun in the sky warms up the atmosphere, you almost can’t notice the heavy rain it poured all night. As you near the cafe, you see they sell Jihyun’s favorite cupcakes. Maybe if you get her a few she’ll be unable to ignore you.
Ignoring Mingyu might be an easy task for these next few days, but Jihyun is someone you can’t ignore until the issue doesn’t bother you anymore. One of the thoughts that kept you up all night was how to fix things with her, you were both wrong, so it’s only right to approach her and talk things through again. What you didn’t expect was seeing Jihyun enter the same shop while you’re paying.
You make eye contact, knowing you’re both here with the same purpose. As you walk towards her, she doesn’t walk away from you, and that confirms she also wants to talk things through.
The shop has a few tables placed outside, and after Jihyun sits on one you sit in front of her. It's awkward as you put the cupcakes you just bought in front of her.
“I’m-” your voices overlap as you speak the same words. You both laugh awkwardly, and she motions for you to talk first.
“I’m sorry for the way I acted yesterday, it was childish of me to just walk away and not letting you explain, and I shouldn’t have dumped all that to you out of nowhere, I’m sorry.” Afraid of her reaction, the words leave your mouth so fast you barely register what you say.
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” her response is surprising, as you expected to be the only one apologizing, “you were right about what you said, I was a bad friend for not telling you, and I shouldn’t have asked you in front of everyone if you were still in love with him, that was really stupid.” In love. It's weird to hear that about Minghao again, after so many days of getting over him, those words attached to him feel odd.
“And I’m sorry for not noticing that you and Chan liked each other, you really are perfect for one another by the way.”
“Thanks,” your comment breaks a laugh out of her, and you can finally breathe, “so are we ok? I really hate fighting, especially with you.” As the atmosphere relaxes between you two, Jihyun finally grabs one of the cupcakes you bought and starts eating it.
“Yes, I hate fighting too let’s not do that ever again please.” Making up was so easy, you feel ashamed for walking out on her, but now you’ll never do it again.
“Great cause I have something to ask you,” the relief you felt quickly turns into curiosity and you look at her expectantly, “well, it’s more so to confirm Chan's suspicions that a question but, do you have something going on with his brother?”
Red rushes to your face and your stomach drops in shock. Your shyness is a dead giveaway and Jihyun catches up in no time.
“Oh my god he was right?! You must tell me everything now!” Excitement shines through Jihyun’s voice, talking loudly and earning a few weird looks from people passing by.
“Nothing happened, I guess we’re together often and Chan noticed,” the disappointment on your voice is noticeable, “he’s really nice.”
“Channie told me yesterday that you two were acting weird and asked me if you had told me anything.” Jihyun notices something’s wrong, she stretches her hand to take yours, “did he do something?”
“It’s more about what he didn’t do”. The questioning look she gives you urges you to continue, “we went on a walk last night after dinner and Chan caught us before leaving, and I just,” remembering everything you talked about, how he wished he’d met you before, it’s a new kind of pain you’ve never felt before, “I thought he might like me or something, but it was stupid.”
“You know, for Chan to think there was something between you, I don’t think it’s nothing.” Jihyun always tries to be positive, and you do too, but this time you just can’t.
“Well, he had the chance, and he didn’t do anything, I was giving him bedroom eyes and everything!” Now you’re starting to get mad. At you. At him. At you for believing this was more than a passing friendship. At him for being so kind and hot and nice and handsome and a good listener and everything a girl could ask for.
“Maybe he got nervous!”
“He doesn’t seem like the type of guy to get nervous around girls.”
And you’re right. He isn’t. So why did you have such an effect on him that he couldn’t make a move?
From Mingyu’s point of view everything was different. He understood after a few days that he liked you a little more than he should, and it only intensified after you watched the sunrise together.
After your date that shouldn’t be called a date at all, but it felt like one to him, all he wanted was to kiss you, to prove that you’re worthy of someone being head over heels for you. He had been thinking about it the whole night, but in that moment, he froze.
You were looking at him so expectantly, with droopy eyes like you wanted to eat him. It was too much for him, and he’s beating himself for it since.
As soon as you closed your door, his feet automatically lead him to the windy beach, with only the tiny porch roof to shield him from the storm, but he didn’t care.
In the morning, he woke up before everyone as usual and started making breakfast for the two of you, hoping you won’t hate him, hoping he didn’t lose his chance. But then he saw you sprint out the front door like you were running away from him.
All day Mingyu’s been waiting to get you alone, but you were always so busy, talking with someone else or helping to clean up so the house is squeaky clean before everyone leaves tomorrow. If he doesn’t get to explain himself and make it right, he fears he probably won’t see you again for a long time.
As your last night at the house, everyone decided to have a goodbye party. And by ‘party’ you mean a hang out with no alcohol, because no one wanted to drive six hours while hang over and because you all spent the whole day cleaning and tidying everything up. Just hang out, playing games, maybe one beer or two, not enough to get anyone drunk.
Sitting on the couches as usual, you can feel Mingyu’s gaze piercing through you from across the room. You did avoid him all day, making yourself busy whenever you saw him around, but you didn’t think he noticed.
Your attempts to evade his overwhelming presence are pointless. You don’t look at him, focusing on whoever is talking or pretending to look for something on your phone, but every time you stretch to grab something off the table, he coincidentally goes for it too.
The distance between you might not be noticeable for the naked eye, just casually sitting across from each other, you’re not one to talk much so it’s usual for you to look at who’s talking and not interrupt them. Mingyu’s just the same, but his eyes seem to have got a life of their own and wander to you at your every movement.
It’s killing Mingyu inside to know that you’re avoiding him. He knows he fucked up, but fears that if he confronts you, you’ll just deny it. There's not much he can do in this group setting.
His opportunity arises when everyone decides to do a movie night. It’s weird to watch a movie on your last night, but he won’t oppose to it if it’s an unanimous decision. And when you’re tasked with the popcorn, he knows it’s time to talk to you without anyone hearing. He tags along, throwing some lame excuse to the others saying he’ll help you.
You object, you’ll do just fine on your own, but your legs betray you and don’t stop even when he insists. You’re both inside the kitchen in no time and there’s no running back.
“I’ll just heat the bags on the microwave, and you can take them to the coffee table.” You avoid looking at him too much, trying to focus as best as you can, but the popcorn bags are nowhere to be found. You look inside every cabinet, doing a very rigorous search, anything to keep the interaction as short as possible.
“Let me help you.” As the kind man Mingyu is, he attempts to join you in the search, but if he gets a mere inch closer to you, you might lose it.
“No, it’s fine I can find them.” It comes out harsher than you intend, but at least he backs away.
There’s a minute of silence, only your huffs of frustration can be heard.
“I’m sorry.”
You stop in your tracks, search already forgotten as you scavenge through your mind to find any usable words to respond.
“About what?” You huff incredulously.
“About last night.” Mingyu looks small as he waits for your reply.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” The big kitchen suddenly feels too small, the four walls imprisoning you. You ignore his figure as you walk over to the tiny storage room right beside the kitchen. Maybe there are forgotten popcorn bags there and you can finally end this conversation. But Mingyu's committed to his cause and follows you.
“But there is.” It’s almost annoying how adamant he is about whatever he wants to say. You don’t want him to pity you, it’s already embarrassing enough.
“It’s fine, really.” Mingyu followed you inside the tiny room, and when you turn around to face him, he’s dangerously close. Your breath hitches, but you force yourself to not have another reaction.
“It’s not,” barely a meter separates you from Mingyu, too close for your liking but at the same time too far. He realizes and moves forward half a step, so now if you concentrate enough, you can feel his breath as he speaks, “I know you’ve been avoiding me all day because of what happened... I shouldn’t have-”
“Look, maybe I've been avoiding you but it’s because I want to keep the last bit of pride I have left, I thought you wanted to kiss me and you didn’t, it’s okay, you don’t have to pity m-”
The words stop coming out of your mouth a millisecond before Mingyu grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours with force.
The kiss lasts merely seconds, but you melt under his touch instantly. Mingyu’s lips mold over yours perfectly, pillowy and soft, but with authority.
He backs away slowly, your eyes still closed, and your foreheads connected, he gives you a peck before finally separating.
“I wanted to kiss you, I mean, I want to, like all the time.” You watch him with glossy eyes, still dizzy from the kiss.
Your bodies are close like they’ve never been before, you have to move your head up to even see his face. The pumps of your heart are so strong he might even feel them. Your mouth hangs open in shock, your brain makes no sense of what’s happening, and words don’t seem to want to get out of you.
“I should've done that yesterday.” Mingyu can barely contain his smile as he confesses.
“Yeah, you should've!” You chuckle as you jokingly slap him on the chest, “Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know,” his hands sneak around your waist, fingers creeping inside your t-shirt to touch your bare skin, “you make me nervous.”
“Right, but you don't seem so nervous now,” as his fingers trace circles on your sides, your arms wrap around his neck naturally. Your faces get ever so slightly closer by the second, your chin up and his head down, eyes connected in a trance that draws a smirk on his face.
“Do you forgive me?” He breaks the eye contact, gaze focused on your parted lips.
“Hmm, I don’t know… I’m not convinced yet.” It’s your turn to smirk, trying to get a reaction out of him.
Mingyu’s eyes change before something takes over in him. He wraps his arms around your waist and erases the little distance between your bodies, connecting your lips in a frenzy kiss, nothing like the sweet one before. Your arms hug his neck, bringing his face and body impossibly closer to yours.
You sigh when his hands start traveling across your back as he deepens the kiss, licking your lower lip and tangling your tongues together. His arms hug your waist up, forcing you on your tiptoes to reach his height while your hands on his neck push him down. Like a game of push and pull, both of you fighting for dominance, one pushes their body against the other and the other pushes you both closer, if even possible.
Inside you feel like exploding. You knew you wanted him, but your body wants more, you need more. From the first touch the only thing on your mind is him, his hands on you, your chests flushed together, his lips on yours with force, where they belong. Everywhere he touches feels like it’s on fire. When his hands sneak below your t-shirt and his fingers wander around the unexplored territory, you sigh on his mouth again and you feel his smirk against your lips.
The metal shelves dig onto your back, but you don’t care, all that’s on your mind is him, until some lonely can falls to the ground and makes an inexplicable loud noise that alerts not only the two of you.
“Is everything okay?” Chan’s question comes from far away, but it’s enough to make you jump and push Mingyu away from your face.
“Yeah! We just,” You’re too out of breath to speak more than a couple of words, “couldn’t find the freaking popcorn.”
“Doesn’t Mingyu remember where we keep it?” You turn to catch Mingyu as he smugly retrieves his hand from behind your head to reveal the bags you’ve been looking for.
“Need any help?” Chan’s voice gets dangerously closer.
“No need! Thank you!” You take your chance to snatch the popcorn out of Mingyu's hands and start walking away from him and towards the kitchen, “Mingyu’s so annoying!” You hear Chan's laugh as he leaves.
“But you like me as I am,” Mingyu whispers in your ear, already caught up beside you, smirk so prominent you can even hear it.
“Is it too late to retract?”
“Yep, you’ll have to deal with me forever now.”
“Forever huh?” The humming of the microwave accompanies the moment as you turn around to find Mingyu standing against the kitchen island, arms stretched as if he’s showing off his muscles. He definitely catches you ogling him, but that’s what’s fun.
The knowledge that you’re able to make him nervous is too powerful. Your hunger translates in the way you look at him, standing against the sink in the same way he is, you look at him exactly the same way as the night before, lust and want almost tangible.
You stand still, waiting for him again, but this time he doesn’t chicken out. Slowly, he steps closer to you and cages you in between his arms. The air becomes too thick, atmosphere heavy as you look up at him expectantly.
The microwave beeps behind you but none of you react, too in your own bubble to care about the outside world. His eyes switch between yours, with his eyebrows raised and lightly biting his lower lip, using no words but telling you everything.
His hands sneak around your waist, and you don’t fight the smile cracking on your lips. You move your head forward, craving his lips on yours again.
“Guys what’s taking so long?” You’ve never separated faster. You barely get to turn around and open the microwave before Chan appears inside the kitchen, notoriously troubled. A few steps by your left, Mingyu searches for bowls, his back facing the both of you as to not reveal his blushed face.
Chan’s eyes switch between watching his brother and watching you, waiting for an answer as you grab the piping hot bag and dump the freshly done popcorn into a bowl. The silence is telling, even to him.
“Sorry, we’ll be right there.” Chan grabs the bowl reluctantly, clearly aware that something happened, just not sure what. As he walks away, he even turns his head around to analyze the two of you for a second.
The movie democratically chosen is quite interesting at first, but after some boring scenes, the little power of concentration you have evaporates. Mingyu’s body is next to yours, legs touching and his arm resting on the back of the couch. What you want need is so close yet so far.
You sit back so he can wrap his arm around you without raising any suspicions, goosebumps run across your entire body when he finally does.
Not engaged in the movie at all, you opt for looking at the man by your side. Mingyu notices your gaze as soon as it lands on him, but he pretends he doesn’t. Everything about your current situation is making him lose his mind. The way you keep searching for his touch, even with all your friends surrounding you, inviting him to sit so close to you, not hiding as you stare at him, everything is making him nervous. The nervousness from the night before crawls back onto his body, because of you, his brother’s best friend, here, how you’re making him feel. He just doesn’t know how to act around you.
As he wraps his arms around you, you snuggle closer to him, only a blanket hiding your closeness from prying eyes. The movie’s long forgotten, with your head on Mingyu’s shoulder, you can only concentrate the rise and fall of his chest, his soft touches on the side of your arm. His warmth is hypnotizing, prompting your hand to place itself on the uncovered skin of his thigh, just above his knee. You don’t miss the way his breath hitches at your touch, goosebumps reveal around the cold of your hand. He expects for you to move it, but your hand stays there, squeezing softly, much too close to his knee, for a few minutes.
When a fight scene breaks on the movie, you take advantage of the noise and the initial shock, and move your palm slightly up Mingyu’s thigh, over his shorts but closer to where his groin starts to wake up.
Judging by Mingyu’s face, there’s nothing suspicious about you two. He stays looking up front, pretending to pay attention to the screen, while inside all he can think about is your hand and what you’re planning to do with it. The expectations excite him just as much as they scare him. All he wants is your body close to his, making you feel through his actions just how much he likes you, but he didn’t think you’d start something while surrounded by all your friends. It’s dark, only the movie lights up the room, and you’re on the far end on the couch where it would be hard for anyone to see you, but it’s still quite exposing. Someone could catch you, you don’t seem to care, and it excites him more than it should.
“I know what you’re doing,” you barely hear his whisper through all the noise.
“Is it working?” Your thumb slowly grazes his skin as he flexes his thigh muscles.
“I have probably minutes of self-control left, so we’ll see.” He backs his head away again and you turn to watch his reaction as your hand moves over his already semi hard cock. Only a few touches and he’s already halfway up. It fills you with pride to know how much of an effect you have on him. Big, strong, serious Mingyu, coming apart under your hand.
Your palm moves up and down his covered length slowly, feeling it getting harder under your touch. His reactions are so minimal that you only notice because you pay attention closely.
What you didn’t anticipate was his hand creeping up your thigh. Slowly, his fingers find their way inside the tiny shorts you put on, drawing circles on your inner thigh, nowhere near enough to your core but still sending waves of arousal through your whole body.
Half of the run time of the movie passes, but your touches stay over your clothes, teasing, barely grazing. You stop palming him the second his index fingers ghosts over your covered clit, your breath hitches and you’re too shocked to keep up your movements. As the seconds pass, Mingyu runs his fingers through your covered folds, feeling how wet you already are.
The movie’s suddenly silent, the main characters looking at each other in the eyes. It's probably a very important scene, but you only concentrate on not making any noise as Mingyu works you up under the blanket.
With your hand still motionless on Mingyu's cock, he stretches until his head reaches your ears when the scene changes and noise fills the room again.
“Let’s go to my room.” There’s no hesitation in his voice.
“You don’t wanna watch the ending?” You tease back. You don’t even know what happened in the movie this whole time.
“If I don’t have my fingers inside you in the next five minutes, I might go crazy.” His statement leaves your jaw hanging as he, contrary to what he just said, removes his hand from you.
“I’m sorry guys, gotta drive tomorrow,” Mingyu suddenly gets up and everyone's confused eyes are on him, “don’t wanna be up until too late.” And with those words, he’s out of the living room in no time.
Everyone's eyes, including Chan’s, go back to the screen, but you stay still. Should you follow after him right now? It’ll be too suspicious, but do you really care?
You wait until the scene changes, as to not seem too obvious, and fake a loud yawn.
“Sorry guys I think I'm calling it a night,” every move you make, you make sure to do it slowly, to show how tired you are, “I don’t wanna fall asleep on the couch.”
As you take a few steps, Jihyun calls for you, “But it’s about to end!”
“Oh! I’ve already seen it it’s fine,” you lie as you face the hallway again, your back turned to Jihyun so your face doesn’t expose you.
You can hear her voice saying something like liar! You wanted to watch it! But you don’t turn back, because you can see Mingyu waiting by his door. He's about to speak but you run and smash your lips with his before he can utter a word.
Your bodies are so tangled together you stumble backwards, but luckily Mingyu manages to catch you before you fall and turns you both inside his room. With his hand pillowing your head, he pins you against the now closed door and you both laugh lightly at your clumsiness. But as soon as your eyes land on each other again, it’s like you’re both hypnotized because your mouths attach again like magnets.
His hair feels soft between your fingers, long enough for you to tug at it lightly. He groans against your mouth and now it’s your turn to smirk. That ignites something in him, because he presses you against the wall at the next tug you give him.
He’s everywhere. His thighs intertwined with yours, his firm chest against yours, one hand on your waist and the other on your neck.
The feeling of his lips is addicting, and now that you’ve finally tasted him you never want to go back. His mouth glides over yours with familiarity, like it’s something he's been doing for years, like he knows exactly how to get you head over heels for him.
You chase his lips as he steps back just a little, and you instantly miss the warmth of his body. The only light source in his room is the moonlight beaming though the window, but it’s enough to admire Mingyu’s messy hair and blood red lips. Your hands stay around his neck and his on your waist, neither of you wanting to stop touching the other.
A strand of hair blocks your view for a second before he brushes it back and tucks it behind your ear.”
“Did you mean all that?” Not his words, but his actions. Kissing you. Did it mean the same for him as it did for you?
“I've been wanting to do that for days,” his hand caresses the side of your face gently and you lean into his touch.
His lips are on your again without warning and you melt at his touch, giving in to him. His lips guide yours slowly, taking his time savoring you. Every move of his has a purpose, every deliberate touch makes you more needy for him.
He's in total control, caging your body against the door, pressing himself against you so you feel his almost fully hard dick against your upper thigh.
His mouth travels down to your neck and makes you gasp, leaving damp kisses on your sensitive skin. Your hands play with the hem of his black t-shirt, and you feel his smirk against your neck. His hands travel all around your body, from your neck to your back to your waist and your ass. You feel him everywhere every second and the heat inside you intensifies per second.
The only thing on your mind is having him. Your hands start lifting his shirt up, he smirks against your lips before separating briefly to take it off and slip his shoes off. You do the same.
You barely get a glimpse of his shirtless body before he’s on you again. Lips on lips, skin on skin, your insides pulsate with need feeling every muscle of his against you. His biceps tense under your touch when he picks you up by your thighs effortlessly.
Legs wrapped around his waist, Mingyu walks with you on his arms towards his bed. He makes sure to drop you softly before getting on top of you. His mouth finds your neck again as he lets you feel his hard bulge against your core. You grind against him, eliciting a moan out of the both of you, but it’s not enough.
With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you press him further against you. Even with the layers of clothes between you, his length grinds deliciously against you, the friction causing the heat inside you to fire up and the idea of having him inside releases a wave of arousal.
“Mingyu!” You intend to draw his attention, but he grinds against you again and it comes out like a moan. He hums against your skin and your fingers on his hair and back encourage him further. His hands roam your body until they reach your poorly clothed chest, but the lousy fabric doesn’t stop him from groping with excitement.
“Mingyu take off your pants.” You manage to grab his head to make him look at you, and he follows immediately.
You take your pants and bra off easily and prop on your elbows to admire him while he struggles to take his off. His frustration makes you chuckle, but his defined muscles distract you quickly. You saw him in just swim shorts days ago, you knew what to expect, but it still shocks you how broad his shoulders are, how his pecs flex at the tiniest movement. The size of his biceps are probably three times the size of yours.
When he finally throws his pants away, he aims to get on top of you again, but you think ahead. You move to the side, so he drops on the bed, and you get on top of his big thighs. The little fabric between you allows you to feel just how hard he is under you, hitting all the right places, making you moan while wetness gushes out of you.
Your hands travel slowly through his chest, fingers tracing his muscles, torturing him with your slow pace and making him squirm at your touch. His little sighs and whines are music to your ears, reaching the deepest parts inside you and ruining your panties more and more.
Proud of the effect you have on him, you grind softly and feel his hard twitch under you. But your fun doesn’t last. Mingyu grabs you by the neck and lowers your body until your faces are millimeters apart, keeping your hands from moving. He attempts to kiss you, but you grind on him again, causing him to moan in your mouth.
“You’re making me crazy,” his lips graze yours when he speaks, and you have to fight every internal scream telling you to kiss him back.
“Good.” You smirk as you shimmy down until your core is no longer sitting on top of his, leaving kisses down his neck while your hand travels down to palm him.
He sighs when your hand sneaks under his underwear to feel his now fully hard cock. Your hand barely wraps around him as you slide it up and down his length slowly, smearing the precum coming out from the tip.
Every little reaction Mingyu gives you encourages you to continue. Every moan when you squeeze harder, every whine when you pay attention to the tip, every sigh when you leave tiny bite marks around his clavicle, where no one else would be able to see them, but hopefully you.
Your wrist works hard as you notice Mingyu’s breath getting heavier and faster, and the fire inside you becomes impossible to ignore.
“Do you have a condom?” You ask as you slowly stop your movements. The ache between your legs keeps you from concentrating on anything else. If he wanted to, he could slide right in with how wet you are.
“Maybe,” the raise of his eyebrows tells you he’s up to no good and you look at him questioningly, “there’s something I gotta do first.” He slots between your legs with a smirk, hands on both sides of your waist and mouth getting closer to your ear.
“Gonna make you cum so hard you won’t even know your name.” His lips leave a trail of kisses below your ear to your mouth, and you sigh as he connects your lips once again. His hands go down and spread your thighs, taking his time grazing and groping everywhere between your inner thighs except for where you want him the most. You can only sigh and push him more against you, still in shock from his previous words.
One hand ghosts over your somehow still clothed core and you try to grind against it, but he moves it away with a chuckle.
“I need you,” you gasp when his hand presses against your pussy, fingers running up and down your lower lips and teases your hole through your panties, “please Gyu,” the nickname slips out of you with a moan.
“Whatever you want baby,” the not so accidental pet name goes straight to your core, too wet by now.
Mingyu starts a trail of kisses down your jaw to your boobs, paying especial attention to them while helping you out of your panties. You try to press against him, now fully naked, but he pins your hips down with force.
His head goes down leaving wet kisses on your skin and making you needier and needier until he reaches your pulsing core.
“You’re so wet already,” he kisses all around, teasing you endlessly as his hands pins you down so you don’t grind up to him, and his breath fans over your wet hole making you shiver, “so needy for me.”
“I swear if you don’t st-Fuuccck,” his tongue flattens on your core mid-sentence, slowly licking up and down, drowning any thought you might possibly have. He dives into you with no intend of stopping any time soon.
The dreamlike scenario of his head between your legs is in no way comparable to reality. He switches between swirling his tongue around your clit and teasing your entrance, drinking up all the juices you give him.
It's embarrassing how fast you’re getting to your orgasm with just a few minutes of him working you up. You tremble as he tortures your clit with his tongue once again, sucking on it lightly almost making you scream. You don’t care how loud you are, and he loves how you sound, how you moan uncontrollably because of him.
His hair is all disheveled because of your hands, tugging and pressing him closer to your core. He moans as he tastes you, sending vibrations through your whole body.
When you close your legs unconsciously around his head, he spreads you again with force, keeping you from shivering and adding newfound energy to tip you over the edge.
“Feels s-sso good Gyu oh my god,” his tongue teases your hole as his nose perfectly grazes your clit. Your mind is so numb you keep mumbling praises you can’t understand, the only thing you know is your orgasm is so close to snapping, you can almost see it, hear it, taste it.
You tremble in his hold, and he knows you’re close. Your hands on his hair keep him in place as you grind on his face, intensifying everything. He moans as you use him, and the vibrations finally make you snap.
Your legs tremble as his tongue licks you clean of the mix of saliva and your juices. It's when it becomes too much for you that you push his head back, and the sight leaves you more breathless than you already were. His chin is covered in your arousal and his lips are swollen from the work they’ve done.
His head stays on the lower side of your body, kissing your inner thighs as you recover. You can only watch him, his hands touching and massaging every part of your legs he can reach, his lips so close to your core, but teasing around where you’re starting to need him again.
“You look really pretty like this.” His words send shivers down your spine.
“So I usually don’t?” He halts his movements as you tease to look you in the eye but continues after he takes notice of the teasing tone.
“You are always pretty,” you throw your head back against the pillow at his words, “every second of every day,” the kisses on your inner thigh come closer and closer to your core, already gushing with need.
His lips ghost over your folds as he backs away just the tiniest bit to reveal his index finger moving towards his mouth. His eyes connect with yours as he licks his fingers, and the sight almost blocks your airways. You don’t want to stop watching but when his wet finger starts circling around your clit slowly, your eyes shut instinctively.
You feel him collecting your juices when he suddenly dips his finger into your hole. You moan at the intrusion but he’s quick to remove it and he’s back at circling around your wet clit.
He does the motion a few times, finger in then quickly out, circles around your covered clit with the freshly collected juices, and repeat.
“please" only a broken whisper leaves your mouth as your hand stops his movements. Your eyes connect with Mingyu’s after what feels like hours of teasing, and you can see a little smirk forming before following your needs.
His two fingers enter you slowly, letting you feel everything until he’s knuckle deep inside you. You’re so wet and needy from the foreplay that they just slide in.
He stretches your velvety walls perfectly, with a pace hard and deep that has you moaning uncontrollably.
When he finds that perfect spot that has you seeing stars, your hand jolts down to keep his in place and his fingers start abusing your gspot mercilessly. You almost scream when he adds a third finger inside you, squelching sounds filling the rooms with your moans as you get closer and closer to another orgasm.
Your walls begin to spasm around his fingers, letting him know that you're close once again. With your hand freeing his, he thrusts sharper into you, even if your walls close hard around them pushing them out.
All 5 senses explode within you when you feel his tongue toying with your clit again and your second orgasm hits powerfully. His hands help keep you in place as he maintains his movements, prolonging the orgasm as he pleases.
He licks his fingers clean as he climbs on top of you again. Your haze connects with his and you can’t look away as he removes his digits from his mouth and directs them to yours. Almost robotically, you open your mouth to welcome them and lick them clean without breaking eye contact. The mix of your juices and his saliva spike something within you. Your gaze turns to fire as you grab Mingyu by the neck and pull him towards you. Your lips connect with his fingers in between, both of you licking then clean as the same time. Your tongue plays with his fingers, finding his tongue doing the same and intertwining.
Entranced by you, Mingyu backs away once more and can only watch as you lick his fingers like it was his cock. Your eyes still meet his as you swirl your tongue around and eventually stop with a pop.
The speed of light doesn’t compare to how fast Mingyu crashes his lips with yours again. He grabs you by the waist and flips you both so now his back is against the headboard and you're sitting on top of him. His lips guide yours lazily as his hands travel around your naked back, and when you moan when he grinds up to you, he has to stop before he cums straight away.
You’re still recovering from the earth-shattering orgasm he gave you to speak, and he just looks at you with a little smile growing on his face. He pecks you sweetly, but when you don’t respond he worries.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m more than okay,” you chuckle as you feel your face turning pink, “you were kind of a beast down there, I need a second.”
“I could do that every day if you let me,” he sounds way too enthusiastic as he begins a trail of wet kisses on your neck. A moan escapes you when his hands find your breasts and your wetness uncomfortably starts to stain his boxers below you.
“Take these off.” You grab the waistline of his boxers to draw Mingyu's attention away from your neck and it works. He slips them off at the speed of light and you're back on top of him.
Your wet folds finally come in contact with his cock and you both moan at the feeling. With his hands on your waist, he aims to kiss you, but you surprise him by grinding on him and he moans on your mouth, your lips barely touching. His veiny cock grazes against your clit deliciously, clouding any coherent thought you may have. Mingyu’s just as gone as you are, with his hands playing with your boobs and your juices wetting his entire cock, he might just be in heaven.
“I’ll cum If you keep going like that,” Mingyu has half the mind to speak up. It’s a warning, but you take it as a challenge.
“What if that’s what I want?” You wrap your arms around his neck as best as you can as you slowly keep grinding on him, trying to hide the fact that it has as much of an effect on you as it does on him, maybe even more.
“Hmm I don’t think that’s what you want.” His left-hand sneaks between your bodies as the other plays with your nipple and you halt your movements. His fingers quickly find your clit and press on it with a little force, making you gasp.
“You can have anything you want, if you just ask.” His hands pleasuring you everywhere simultaneously blur your mind. You can’t find it in you to form a coherent sentence, so you resume your grinding. It's so slow you can feel every drag against you, every vein against your wet folds, his tip perfectly against your clit. You want nothing more than to feel him inside you, stretching you until your walls are shaped like him.
“Need you inside,” your words come out more of a gasp than anything, “please.”
Mingyu’s hands stray away from your body, quickly reaching the small packet that was waiting on his nightstand and rips it open as you move away from his cock to give him some space. He rolls the condom on swiftly and you stop yourself from jumping on him.
His hands on your waist and yours on his shoulders to stabilize you, you slowly sink on his length. Yours and Mingyu’s moans synchronize as his cock stretches your walls, filling you up until you feel him on your throat.
When you completely sink down on him, he reaches so deep you almost have trouble breathing, reaching places you’re just now discovering. You stay still as your gummy walls hug his length tightly, trying to get used to the new stretch. Sensing your hesitation to move, Mingyu kisses you softly, both of you melting into the other’s touch. Your arms wrap themselves around his neck for the millionth time, like they’re meant to be there until the end of time, and the slight movement causes Mingyu to shift inside you.
His lips muffle your moans as one of his hands sneak back down to stimulate your clit once again. His fingers draw circles on you, you can feel your arousal dripping onto him, and little by little, the stretch stops stinging, the feeling replaced by want and need.
Using his body to support you, you lift your hips slowly. His low groans fill your ears as every vein drags inside of you deliciously.
Without warning, you sit back with force, getting a moan out of the both of you. His lust filled eyes watch you in awe as his hands grab your ass while you’re repeating the motion. The addictive hitting of his cock inside you almost makes you not notice how tired you’re getting.
Mingyu stops you once you sink down again, embracing you with his arms and pulling you towards him. Your chests are flushed together again as he kisses you deeply, his tongue quickly encountering yours, and he flips you over.
Your back hits the mattress and he's between your legs again. He begins a slow pace, thrusting into you until his pelvis barely touches your swollen clit and then almost all the way out. The pace continues to be torturous until he finds the spot he’s been looking for and you almost scream, egging him on to hit it again and again and again.
With force, every thrust of his hips has you seeing stars. You can’t control your noises any longer, even mumbling a few phrases you can’t quite decipher, but that Mingyu seems to like.
The bed squeaks and hits the wall repeatedly but neither of you care. With your legs wrapped around his waist and your nails digging on his back, you can only think about the tight knot on your lower stomach about to burst.
His face is so close to yours, but neither of you have the mind to do anything other than moan in each other's mouths. Any sound you make, he replicates, blessing your ears and sending waves of pleasure to your already so close body.
Your walls are tightening so hard that Mingyu has trouble keeping up his fast pace, but after telling him how close you are, he starts pounding on you so hard you have to hug him so stay in place. Caged between your arms and legs, Mingyu’s body is glued to yours, his hot skin burning him on you as he drills your insides and blurs your brain.
“y-you’re so t-tight, pleasse tell me you’re cl-close,” his words barely register on your mind and your brain can’t work out a response, so he makes sure you hear him by putting his mouth next to your ear, but never stopping pounding into you, “are you fucked dumb already?”
His words shoot straight to your core, pulsing tight around him. Mingyu tries to muffle a moan by chuckling, but you already know the effect you have on him.
“s-so close Gyu, wish you-” you clench around him around him as you say, “wish you could come inside.”
Mingyu’s hips stutter at your words, and he has to slow down his pace to not cum right that second, but doesn’t miss the chance to play your little game, “you’d like that wouldn’t you? Me filling you up until you’re so full you start dripping?” His lips leave a trail of goosebumps below your ear, giving you a few kissed around your neck before going back up to look you in the eyes as he continues his tortuously slow thrusts.
“Yes yes I want it so bad,” you have no idea if what you’re saying makes any sense, but the smirk Mingyu shows is worth it.
“You wouldn’t waste a single drop right?” his thrust become hard and pointed after you nod eagerly, hitting your gspot with force after every word that leaves his mouth, “I'd stuff it back into you, and you’d be a good girl and keep it in.”
The pet name combined with the sharp thrusts send you over the edge embarrassingly fast. Without warning, you’re cumming on Mingyu’s cock, moaning all kinds of nonsense, squeezing him so tight it’s hard for him to delay his own orgasm. His thrusts don’t stop, stretching you orgasm and chasing his, and in no time, you feel his dick twitch inside you as his hips stutter with a moan.
He stills inside you, body draped over yours as you both recover. You're so tired your eyes start closing on their own, but Mingyu sliding out of you wakes you up instantly, triggering a quiet moan out of your throat.
You don’t want him to leave, and he catches your worried eyes as he gets up, “I’m going to grab a towel to clean up, I'll be right back,” he reassures you with a soft hand on your thigh.
After he hands you a clean towel, he gets back to the bathroom to clean himself up.
Alone in his bedroom and all cleaned up, you scan around after grabbing his big t-shirt to wear. It's obvious this is the room he uses in their frequent family visits, judging by the framed photos and the few posters on the walls. Even with only the bedside table lamp on, except the clothes recently scattered around the floor, you can see you clean and tidy the room is, his clothes are packed neatly, only a few items still on his desk.
“That looks nice on you,” Mingyu’s voice startles you, and you find him watching you from the bathroom door.
“Thanks, it’s some guys’, you probably don’t know him.” He chuckles, walking towards the bed as you tuck yourself in.
“And who is this mystery guy?” Mingyu asks as he get in bed behind you, embracing you in his arms with your back against his chest.
“It’s this guy who’s totally head over heels for me,” you turn around in his arms to find him smiling, “and I really like him too.” His eye wrinkles appear as his smile widens, but you don’t notice as you’re too shy to look at him again after your confession.
“He’s really lucky then.” Mingyu, aware of your shyness, grabs your chin and makes you look at him, “do you really?” The question freezes you in place as lock his serious gaze. He’s dying of nervousness inside, worrying about you, and him, and the two of you.
“Yes,” your voice comes out small and careful, but it relaxes him, “I really do like you Mingyu.”
No words can describe the burst of emotions Mingyu feels as those words leave your mouth. He can only hug you tighter and aim to kiss you, but you turn your head away laughing.
“Hey hey hey! What about you! I’m not letting you anywhere near me until you give me an honest reply!” You find yourself play fighting with this giant man for like three seconds before he pins you down.
“Funny thing to say while you’re in my bed, wearing my shirt,” your hands are trapped by his on both sides on your head, he’s all you can see, and you have no choice but to look him in the eyes. “I know I should’ve said it before, but I really like you too, I’m most comfortable when I’m with you, I’ve never felt like this before and I don’t want this to be a quick fling between us.”
His confession has your stomach doing flips and turns, your blood rushing to your cheeks and ears, and your smile to wide it almost hurts. “That's what I wanted to hear.”
DAY SEVEN
Mingyu’s arms now rank first as your favorite place to sleep ever.
After making each other repeat their confessions multiple times – mostly you, but he found he loves the way you blush every time you say you like him – and kissing lazily while wrapped around one another, time flashed by and sleepiness got to the both of you.
The culprit of waking you up from your dream forcefully is Mingyu’s damn alarm, ringing and ringing somewhere in his room. You turn a couple of times, trying to locate his phone without getting up, but it’s pointless.
“Mingyuuuu your phone,” your voice echoes alongside the annoying alarm as you try to wake him up.
“Hmm sorry,” his raspy voice barely reaches you as he gets up and grabs his phone from the pocket of his pants laying on the floor.
He quickly gets back under the covers, wrapping his arms around you and snuggling against you, both of you too awake by now to get back to sleep.
Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his chest rising and falling behind you and his hand caresses your waist through his t-shirt. You lay your hand over his as he kisses your neck softly.
“Good morning beautiful.” You’re too trapped in his embrace to turn around and face him, but you get to hide the blush that creeps up your cheeks at his words.
“Good morning.” Being wrapped around Mingyu’s warmth is addicting, his touch, his smell, his skin. How did you live all these years without them? “Should we get up? Everyone is probably awake by now.” You really don’t want to, but sadly you can’t stay here forever.
“We will, we will,” his hands wander lower and lower on your body, contradicting his words, until they reach the hem of your his shirt and sneak inside to caress your bare skin as he keeps kissing your neck, “are you not wearing-”
The sentence is left unfinished, his state of shock loosens his hug and you’re able to turn in his embrace, cocky smile on your face as he tries to figure you out.
“Oh, I must’ve forgot!” Mingyu joins you in a chuckle, hugging you tightly again and bringing your face towards him. Lazily kissing him, with your limbs intertwined and a little morning sleepiness, everything makes you so dizzy, already needy for him.
His tongue breaches into your mouth, messily dancing with yours as his hand pushes your shirt up and sneak to your core.
You don’t stay still. With your hands you touch and grope every spot of his torso you can reach, earning a few sighs from him, and you slowly start grinding on his hand, coating his curious fingers with your arousal.
Mingyu moans in your mouth when your hand catches his growing bulge, trying to be as quiet as possible in case anyone awake wanders your way.
“You’re gonna be de death of me.” His raspy whisper shoots straight to your core, but you can’t give him a proper reply, his lips go back to yours to shut you up as his fingers run through your wet folds.
Both of your hands work wonders on the other, your hand sneaks under his boxers to stroke him properly while he toys with your clit. It’s getting more and more difficult to quiet down the sounds coming from your mouths, your mind barely able to remember that task as the fire inside you stomach arises.
A knock on the door freezes you both in place. You stop breathing, locking eyes with Mingyu, waiting for the unannounced person to speak up. He looks as scared as you probably are as you both wait.
Another knock makes you get away from one another, and the ruffling sounds draw the attention of the one outside the door.
“Are you awake bro?” Chan asks through the door, luckily not opening it. Your eyes emanate panic as you evaluate every possible outcome for this interaction, but Mingyu motions for you to calm down.
“Hmm yeah, what do you want?” He pretends to just wake up, feigning a loud yawn.
“You know where y/n is? She’s not in her room and Jihyun’s looking for her.” Now Mingyu panics too, trying to come up with any excuse, no matter how lame.
“I don’t know bro, maybe she’s in the bathroom.” Definitely the lamest excuse ever, but it seems to work.
“Right, right, I’ll tell her that, but get up bro! We’re leaving in like an hour!”
“Okay! I’ll be right out.”
You both stay still, listening as his steps get farther and farther until there’s silence again.
“We really should tell him about us, he won’t be mad.” He sounds serious as he picks up your clothes from the floor.
“Take me out on a date first!” You snatch your clothes from his hands as you both chuckle. How would a date with Mingyu go? Outside of this bubble you created, everything could be different, but the change excites you.
The drive back to the city is full of laughter and songs, just like the first day. This time Chan managed to get on the passenger’s seat first, leaving you sitting next to Jihyun’s curious eyes and separating you from Mingyu.
You feel much better than on the first day. Relaxed, with less weight in your shoulders, and a really hot man making eyes at you through the rear view mirror.
Mingyu leaves Chan and Jihyun at his house first, saying it’s more practical to drop them off first and then you. None of them argue about it, and Jihyun throws a wink your way as you get on the passenger’s seat.
“You know, yesterday Jihyun asked me about us, she says everyone’s suspicious.” You mention when he parks in front of your building.
“That’s funny, cause Chan asked me today too, he intercepted me as soon as I got to the kitchen.” He replies and gets out of the car, leaving you hanging for a few seconds before opening your door.
“Really?” Mingyu’s grabbing your bags while you’re dying of curiosity behind him. “And what did you say?”
He chuckles as you walk towards your building, car locked and your bags still in his hands. He only answers once you get to the elevator.
“I told him… that I really like you.” A smile cracks wide on your face. You’ll never get tired of him saying that.
“And did he seem okay with it?” You quickly reach your floor and head to your door, anxiety creeping up on you at the thought of Mingyu being inside your apartment.
“Yeah! He even seemed kind of happy,” you stand by your door just watching him expectantly and he seems confused by your stillness, “are we coming in?”
“Oh yeah just, it’s a little messy I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting to have guests you know.” You turn your door handle slowly, waiting for him to nod before fully opening it.
You walk in slowly, watching his every move and reaction as he steps behind you. He gives it a quick look around before crouching to leave your bags on the floor and walking towards you.
“I like your place, it’s so… you.” His arms wrap softly around your waist, and yours instinctively around his neck.
“How do you know? We’ve know each other for like seven days.” You’re not strangers, you told him stuff you’d never tell anyone else, but you've also known him for a very short amount of time.
“I just know.” The sweet smile he give you melts you in place, if it weren’t for his arms surrounding you, you’d probably fall onto the floor. “And I really want to make that time longer, I meant it when I said forever.”
And he proved to you, time and time again during those seven days, that his words are always true. You have no reason not to trust him, and you always will.
i really hope you liked this >.< share your thoughts!
taglist: @gaslysainz @soffiyuhh @oneandonlyluvv @gyuwoosbabie sorry for the wait
THIS IS SAUR CUTE! >.< ang cute nila magkulitan whjahsk, looved it so muchie. thank you for writing this, i hope both sides of your pillow is cold every night 🙇
CONTENT/WARNINGS: Explicit Language, Smut/Explicit Sexual Content (18+, MDNI), Drugs (Mentioned as a figure of speech), Mingyu and a bad case of Second Lead Syndrome, Protected sex, Dirty talk, Cowgirl, Rough sex, Possessive Seungcheol, Names (Slut, Whore, etc.), Fingering, Oral sex (m and f receiving), OOC Seungcheol (He’s an asshole in this, I’m sorry), Outdoor sex, Unprotected sex, Degradation, Edging, Making out, Alcohol consumption, Jennie as your rival in love, Self-Esteem/Self-Worth Issues, Objectification
WC: 14.7k
SUMMARY: A few blurred lines and plenty of heated nights is all it takes to have you wondering if you want to ruin Seungcheol’s life or live the rest of yours with him. (What a shame you don’t realize that Seungcheol’s fine with both options.)
Hit-and run, that’s how it goes.
It’s what you tell yourself as you sneak out of the bed, moving the heavy arm around your waist with caution to avoid awakening the man who was still out cold. You keep your eyes on him as you pick your clothes up from the floor, keep your eyes on him as you put your shirt on and tug your jeans up. The last thing you wanted to do was to get caught leaving.
Not that you owe him anything—you just met the guy last night—but something about getting caught escaping after a night of what might have just been the best sex of your life feels extra shameful.
Honestly, if it hadn’t been for the little man-eating creed you lived by, you would’ve stayed, but you find that one night stands are much much easier to sustain. No one gets feelings, no one gets attached, and no one gets hurt.
But something about the way Seungcheol looks tangled in hotel room sheets has you wanting to stay, has you wanting to crawl back in and settle between his legs to give him a good morning greeting he won’t forget—if only to get a repeat of last night.
Unfortunately, your stubbornness perseveres, and you’re quick to walk out of the hotel room, leaving nothing but the scent of your perfume and the stain of your sins on the sheets to serve as evidence of your presence.
That’s just how it goes, sadly.
(Seungcheol might have just ruined other men for you.)
You go through the rest of your day like a drunkard with a debilitating hangover. There hasn’t been a single coherent thought to fire through your synapses, each and every single thought in your head centering itself on Seungcheol and all the things he did to you last night. If you focus hard enough, you can probably still feel the heat on your skin, the softness on your lips, the muscle underneath your nails, the sting of your behind, the fullness between your legs—
“Shit!” You hiss as the ramyeon’s soup starts bubbling out of the little pot on your stove. Quickly, you reach out to press the button, turning the stove off before you’re grabbing a trivet to set the pot on.
Frustration and embarrassment fill your form as you wipe your stove, careful to focus this time around because getting a burn from your careless daydreaming might just become your final straw. You’re not supposed to be this hung over a man, even if said man was hung and knew exactly what to do with his winnings from the genetic lottery. You like to think that you were above that sort of thing, but the way you’re screwing up instant noodles and basic chores has you realizing that maybe, just maybe, you were prone to being dickmatized too.
Yikes, you think. Jeongyeon’s going to either kick your ass to make you forget or make fun of you daily to never let you live it down, and neither route sounds good. The worst part of it, you’ll have to live the rest of your life finding someone who can outperform that stud.
Damn it.
—
Choi Seungcheol is a light sleeper.
Unfortunately, that was not the case for today because he slept through the morning and woke up with the space beside him cold and barren. The fact that he’s still boneless and breathless in bed despite the hours that have passed is a testament to just how well you sucked his soul out with the heat between your legs and the space between your lips.
And that pisses him off because did you seriously just hit him with a fuck-and-run? He doesn’t usually mind. It’s less work for him, less conversations, less opportunities for attachment. However, Seungcheol now minds because his one-night stands don’t usually flip his world upside down and alter the course of his life with a single night of mind-blowing sex.
Fucking hell.
Seungcheol sits up, eyes searching the room for traces you may have left behind because he’s an action-taker. He isn’t the type to sit down and wait for things to move in his favor, he forces things to bend to his will until he gets what he wants, and what he really wants right now is you. Unfortunately for him, there isn’t a single trace of you, at least not one that Seungcheol can use to find you.
The only thing he’s got is the scent of you lingering the sheets, the memories of your pretty face, and the phantom feeling of a soft, heated body pressing against Seungcheol—if he focused hard enough, he could probably pretend like you were right there.
It’s nothing compared to the real thing, but even the memory of you is greater than the reality of all his entanglements.
Jeonghan would probably make fun of him for being this pussywhipped, but he’d argue that the man just didn’t have enough context. Jeonghan would probably end up the same way if he got to feel you—
Nevermind.
(Seungcheol can’t even stomach the thought.)
The next few days are spent getting over you figuratively and getting over many other women…
Literally.
Seungcheol seduces whatever pretty little thing he finds and prays that one of them will be enough to match you, but it’s useless. He doesn’t even remember their faces or their names, doesn’t remember taking them to his apartment and seeing them out. Call him an asshole, but the only thing he ever truly remembers is the disappointment because none of them have him feeling even half of everything you made him feel that night. What’s worse is that he can only ever really cum with them when he’s imagining you.
Seungcheol wonders if you spiked your body with drugs because why the hell did he feel like an addict going through withdrawals? It makes sense, he thinks. The indescribable high of that night followed by the lowest of lows he’s been experiencing these past few days… It’s a textbook case of addiction.
He needed to find you soon before he went insane, but unfortunately for him, the only thing he’s got is the memory of your face and your name.
This was going to be hard.
(Damn near impossible.)
—
Life, thankfully, goes on.
Juggling your responsibilities as a graduate student and a teaching assistant gets you busy enough to momentarily forget the handsome man from that night. Most of your days are spent attending classes, working on your thesis, setting up microscopes, checking laboratory reports, preparing smears, checking test papers, and filling in for the professors who couldn’t be bothered with addressing their students’ inquiries.
It’s a welcome distraction because you don’t think you can stomach the thought of spending your free time daydreaming about getting bent over by Seungcheol when you could just find another man to—
You’re stirred from your thoughts when one of the undergraduate students raises his hand. They’ve been familiarizing themselves with the different parasites, and unfortunately, you’ve been tasked with assisting them and turning them into diagnostic experts because that sort of job was just so beneath the professors.
Not that you mind. Identifying parasites under the microscope was leagues better than preparing Kato-Katz slides.
“Is this an egg?” Chan, the undergraduate student who had raised his hand, asks as he pulls away from the microscope to give you the space to view. He’s a good kid. Sure, he struggles, but he’s honest, determined, and it’s not something you could say for most members of his batch.
“Congratulations, it’s not an artifact,” You grin as you look at the egg in view, fiddling with the fine adjustment knob to get a clearer view of the slide. “Next question. What parasite does this egg belong to?”
You pull away to look at Chan who’s grinning confidently, “Hookworm.”
“Wrong,” You reply, and Chan’s quick to look through the microscope again.
“Is it really not?” Chan asks in disbelief as he fiddles with the light, the knob, the condenser—everything. “It’s got the morula and the thin shell—“
“Wow, someone studied,” You tease, and Chan is quick to affirm you proudly. “I get the confusion, but that’s actually an Ascaris egg.”
“No, it’s not,” Chan argues, returning to the microscope. “There’s no way. It doesn’t have the rough layer outside.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t have the mammillary layer,” You nod. “It’s decorticated, that’s why it doesn’t have the outer layer, but if you look at the inside…”
The rest of the class passes by like that, and by the end of it, your social battery is already depleted. You bid the last of the students goodbye before you’re turning all the microscopes off. You needed to finish as quickly as you could if you wanted to make it in time for lunch with Jeongyeon.
A heavy sigh leaves your form when your eyes land on the stack of lab reports, your body filled with dread as you think of the long walk from the laboratory to Professor Park’s office.
Damn it.
You steel yourself before carrying the ridiculous stack of papers, walking out of the laboratory before you’re kicking the door closed behind you. You’re careful not to lose your balance because the only thing worse than having to carry the heavy stack of papers across the campus is tripping and making the papers fly everywhere.
“Need help?”
Relief fills your form at the familiar voice, and before you know it, the stack is removed from your arms and Kim Mingyu is looking at you with a bright grin like a knight in shining scrubsuit.
“Thank you,” You say as you straighten out your blouse. “But you didn’t have to take the entire stack.”
“I want to,” Mingyu shrugs. “Where are we taking this?”
He says we like he isn’t carrying everything.
“Professor Park’s office,” You reply, and Mingyu’s reaction is immediate.
“He’s still teaching?” Mingyu asks, pulling a face at the mention of the man. Mingyu and all the other medical students only had him for a semester, and they all disliked him. He reads his slides word per word, spends half the discussion complaining about his ex-wife, replies to questions with nothing substantial, and somehow he still has the gall to make the most difficult exams in the department. Professor Park doesn’t have the best reputation because of it, and you haven’t even added your own grievances as the TA that suffers to make up for his negligence.
“Unfortunately,” You laugh with a shake of your head. “And he hasn’t changed at all.”
“Yikes.”
On your way to Mr. Park’s office, you spot Jeongyeon who you presume is on her way to look for you. However, when she does spot you, she doesn’t call, doesn’t greet. The only thing she does is let her eyes flicker between you and Mingyu before giving you a knowing look and a suggestive wiggle of her brows.
You pretend not to see her.
“Thanks, Mingyu,” You say as you help him arrange the laboratory reports on Professor Park’s desk.
“Anytime for my favorite TA,” Mingyu grins as he holds the office door open for you before shutting it behind him. “Where are you off to next?”
“I’m gonna get lunch with Jeongyeon,” You reply. “You?”
“I’ve got class with Dr. Lee which is in—“ Mingyu pauses to look at the Royal Oak on his wrist, “5 minutes.”
“Oh my god, you’re going to be late,” You say in disbelief. Dr. Lee’s classes were held at the same building the two of you came from.
“15 minute grace period,” Mingyu grins with a wink as he begins to jog. “I’ll get going. Eat well!”
“Thanks!” You call out with a wave, and you can’t help the laugh that leaves your form when Mingyu waves back only to trip over his feet and stumble before continuing to wave.
It’s cute. A little embarrassing on his end, but it only adds to his clumsy appeal.
“So why haven’t you tapped that?”
You jolt at the sudden sound of a voice beside you, but you’re quick to relax when you realize that it’s just Jeongyeon with her daily dose of teasing.
“Girl, no,” You sigh before looping your arms with Jeongyeon and dragging her to the direction of the mall beside campus.
“Why not?” Jeongyeon asks, tone split between genuine curiosity and encouragement. “He’s smart, handsome, nice, and not to mention obviously very into you—“
“That’s the problem,” You cut her off before she can continue to dig into your brain and plant whatever seeds she's got in hand. Jeongyeon only wants what’s best for you, you know that. “He likes me, not just the idea of fucking me.”
“You know that’s what most girls want, right?” Jeongyeon snorts, stilling and holding you by the arm before you walked into the oncoming traffic. “Not shallow? No commitment issues? Rich? Ridiculously ripped?”
“I know,” You groan. It’s not that you don’t like Mingyu. If anything, you probably would have—in Jeongyeon’s terms—tapped that, but Mingyu’s not the type to have one night stands. He’s the type to take you on a date and hold off for months before making love. The type of guy you bring to your parents, the type of guy you marry. He is, quite literally, everything your non-committal self fears. “But I just… He deserves someone who can commit.”
“That could be you,” Jeongyeon shrugs before dragging you across the street at the sight of the traffic light turning green. “Just saying, it’s a wasted opportunity.”
“You date him then.”
“Pass, not my type,” Jeongyeon snorts. “But seriously, you should think about it.”
You do. A lot more than you should.
The one night stands are fun and impersonal. It gives you the intimacy your body craves without the expectations and repercussions. You don’t have to deal with disappointing someone, and you don’t have to deal with being disappointed by someone. However, you can’t deny that there are days where the same soul-sucking routine of fucking and leaving has you feeling drained, dead—a shell of yourself.
On those days, you can’t help but wish for someone who would just… See you. Someone who’ll just hold you and love you unconditionally like there’s nothing else in the world that matters.
But facing that reality takes too much work, and you’re honestly too busy to give yourself the space and time for self-reflection followed by gradual self-improvement.
Mingyu didn’t deserve a work-in-progress. You may be known for your maneating ways, but you still have morals, and you weren’t about to seriously fuck up one of the few genuinely nice men that walked the surface of this earth for a night—hell, you’d do it in broad daylight—of pleasure.
Even if he looked that good.
(Even if his attitude was even better.)
“Where’d you go last Friday?” Jeongyeon asks before taking a spoonful from her bowl. “I mean, I’m used to it, but you went completely silent over the weekend, so I was a little worried.”
You grin at her, “Do you really want to know?”
Jeongyeon, already used to your antics, only rolls her eyes before responding, “Another conquest?”
“Yup,” You reply, the grin on your race unwavering even as you chew through your japchae. “I’d probably ask him to do it—well, me—again if I had his number.”
“Was he that good?” Jeongyeon raises a brow in question to which you only nod enthusiastically. “I thought you didn’t go for seconds?”
“Well his dick game was so good it deserves seconds,” You shrug, taking another clump of japchae between your chopsticks. “And he had such a pretty face too.”
“Wait, who even is this?” Jeongyeon asks, setting her utensils down to look at you straight.
“That’s the problem,” You whine in complaint. “I don’t know who he is—well, I know his name, but that’s it. I don’t even know if he’s from here.”
Jeongyeon eyes you warily, “Are you seriously going for seconds?”
“Why not?” You shrug, and Jeongyeon gives you a look. “Okay, I know what I said, but Seungcheol doesn’t really seem like the type to get attached.”
“You don’t know that—wait, sorry, who?”
It’s your turn to eye Jeongyeon with caution, “What do you mean who?”
“You said a name,” Jeongyeon clarifies casually, but you can tell there’s something more to it. “What’s his name?”
“…Seungcheol,” You answer, and you swear you see Jeongyeon’s eye twitch. “Choi Seungcheol.”
“Oh fuck no,” Jeongyeon buries her face into her hands with a groan. Anyone walking past would be able to tell that she’s frustrated. “Y/N, holy shit, you need to fix your taste in men.”
“Why?”
“He’s a whore,” Jeongyeon replies.
“And I’m not?” You ask, amused.
“You are, but you’ve got principles,” Jeongyeon answers immediately, no hesitation, not even a hint of denial. “You don’t let the men get attached, but him? He fucks for as long as he can get away with it then discards when it gets too real.”
“Do you know him?” You ask, suddenly very invested. An opportunity for round two was presenting itself indirectly, and you were not about to let it go to waste. You don’t want your men attached, he doesn’t like his women attached—you guys are a match made in non-committal heaven.
“We’re classmates,” Jeongyeon sighs like even just the thought of Seungcheol is enough to drain her. “He’s in law too, and I admit he’s great at that but… He’s not exactly boyfriend material.”
“Good thing I’m not looking for that,” You shrug with a grin. “Think you can get me his number?”
“How about you just kill me instead?” Jeongyeon deadpans, and you’re quick to laugh. Damn, she must not really like him at all. “Y/N, you deserve better than that.”
“Who, Mingyu?”
“Yes!”
“But I like men that look like they can fuck up my life,” You pout jokingly. You don’t like them. Somehow they always just found their way to you until you gave up on the idea of decent men.
Jeongyeon only groans, sighs, and soundlessly screams into her hands in a little crashout session before she looks straight at you and says, “Then you’ve got the right guy.”
“So are you helping me?”
“No.”
Jeongyeon, true to her words, does not help you secure round two with the handsome stranger. You don’t push. It’s clearly a bad idea, and maybe this was the universe's way of keeping you from pursuing said bad idea.
When you get to your apartment, however, you consider calling Jeongyeon or maybe even going straight to her apartment just to beg.
Because this was definitely not it.
Your lovely neighbor, for some godforsaken reason, has been fucking girls non-stop. You don’t know who they are, but you’re used to them bringing a girl every once in a while, your ears occasionally assaulted by a woman’s moans in the middle of the night. You don’t ever hear your neighbor, nor do you ever see them, but you think it’s better that way.
Especially now that they seem to be banging a new chick every night.
You get it, you really do. Sometimes someone’s just gotta release a little pent-up frustration, but everyday? It doesn’t help that you haven’t fucked anyone since Seungcheol, so couple that with the sounds of sex through the walls and you’ve got one sexually frustrated maneater.
That’ll have to change.
[You]: Oppa, are you up?
[Soonyoung]: ???
[Soonyoung]: am i finally getting my soul sucked by the campus succubus
[You]: Didn’t think you’d even know what that is.
[Soonyoung]: keep going, i’m close
[You]: ???
[You]: Nevermind.
[Soonyoung]: NOOOO
[Soonyoung]: come back
[Soonyoung]: i’ll behave D:
[You]: Can I come over?
[Soonyoung]: ABSOLUTELY
It’s a little shameful to be walking out at 10 PM for dick, but you’re frustrated, and among the many men on your roster, Kwon Soonyoung was the closest. He did live in the building across your street, after all.
The only reason you haven’t taken him for a full ride is because you didn’t have the time. He’s good-looking, and his weird tiger obsession is easily overpowered by the fact that he could dance really really well, and you know what they say about dancers’ hips—
(The rumors are true. Soonyoung did make you cum from dry-humping in a dingy club somewhere.)
Before you know it, the clock on Soonyoung’s wall reads 3 AM, and the man is passed out on the bed beside you like you drained him dry of everything. Like every other time, you get on your feet, pick up your clothes, get dressed, and walk out without looking back.
The same vicious cycle persists.
But everything, everyone, has a breaking point.
You reach yours on a Friday night right after having to sit through a Zoom meeting and your neighbor’s debauchery at the same time. The stress and frustration mix and course through your veins, driving you to walk out of your unit and banging on the door of the one beside it.
You’ve had enough.
Arms crossed, feet tapping impatiently, anyone walking past would be able to tell that you were pissed. You’ve put up with your neighbor’s insensitivity for two weeks, and you refused to go through another week of listening to their escapades while you worked away like a slave of the academe—
The door swings open.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
“Yes?”
Choi Seungcheol stands before you, upper half bare and joggers clinging haphazardly on his hips. Even if no one else could hear him, just one look at his disheveled form would be enough to know what activities he’s been up to.
Some part of you is a little pissed. He had you frustrated for who knows how long while he went off and fucked a new woman every night? Good for him.
(Asshole.)
“Can you keep it down?” You don’t mean to sound bitter, but you can’t help it. “The walls are thin.”
“Sorry,” Seungcheol says, but he doesn’t look sincere at all. You don’t know if you’re imagining it, but there’s a hunger mixed in with the recognition in his eyes. “I didn’t realize.”
“Well, now you know, so keep it down,” You say with a roll of your eyes before turning on your heel and walking back to your unit.
“Wait, Y/N—“
The sound of your name has your hand on the door pausing, your head turning towards Seungcheol who’s stepped halfway out of his apartment.
“If the sound bothers you,” Seungcheol starts, and you raise a brow. “You could always take her place instead.”
You flip him off before entering your unit and slamming the door shut.
Asshole.
The rest of the night is, surprisingly, quiet, and the week that follows it is just as silent.
It’s a welcome change, really. You don’t have to spend your nights squirming and struggling to sleep while your lovely neighbor gave some woman the fuck of her life. You’re honestly thankful because you don’t think you can stomach listening to the sounds now that you know who’s causing it.
You’ve been in that place once, and making that much noise is extremely valid but damn.
That should’ve been you.
‘You could always take her place instead.’ You wonder if his offer still stands. It’s practical, if you think about it hard enough. As long as the boundaries were clear and no one had any plans of getting attached, you’d basically have dick-on-the-go anytime you needed it considering that you literally lived next to him. Just thinking about it has heat pooling between your legs, has you wanting to get out of this shitty fast food restaurant and find some poor soul to suck.
“Is this seat taken?”
After days of not hearing from your neighbor, he shows up, holding a tray of food and looking absolutely scrumptious in a polo shirt. The sleeves are fighting for their life, straining against the fabric in a way that has your mouth watering.
“No,” You shake your head, and you watch as Seungcheol sets his tray down and takes the seat across from you.
“I didn’t know you studied here,” Seungcheol says, motioning towards your ID lace.
“Now you know,” You shrug, eyes flickering down to Seungcheol’s ID lace. “I didn’t know you studied here either.”
It’s a lie. A really big lie considering that Jeongyeon literally told you about it, but you were not about to feed this man’s ego that was probably already massive. It’s not an unfair assumption. Law student? Designer clothing? A serious case of ‘pretty boy face’? And one hell of a stroke game? You’d be more surprised if he didn’t have an ego.
“I do. Law,” Seungcheol says. “I’m surprised we haven’t seen each other on campus. I definitely would’ve remembered you if we did.”
You ignore the suggestion in his tone. “I’m at the medical building most of the time. That’s probably why.”
The humanities and sciences buildings were at opposite ends of the campus, and it’s something you and Jeongyeon have had to suffer through, having to walk so far just to get a glimpse of the other. They were two different worlds separated by grass, walkways, and other administrative buildings.
“Med school?” Seungcheol asks, and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down. “Why aren't you in scrubs like the rest of them?”
“Because I’m not in med school,” You reply. “I’m just taking my masters.”
“For what?” Seungcheol asks as he continues to eat like the two of you aren’t eye-fucking each other over lunch.
It’s stupid, it really is. It’s clear that small talk is the last thing either of you want to be doing, but neither of you are initiating anything. Not that you could actually initiate anything considering that you two were in public, but still. If Seungcheol dragged you into a bathroom stall somewhere and bent you over, you would not be complaining at all.
Seriously.
“Medical Microbiology,” You answer, and the words practically send a shiver down your spine as you think of all the writing and lab work you needed to finish. That thesis wasn’t going to do itself after all.
“Sounds tough,” Seungcheol remarks with a mild grimace.
“Can’t be any worse than having to argue with other people to pass your classes,” You joke, and Seungcheol is quick to chuckle.
“I get by.”
The rest of lunch passes by like that, and Seungcheol’s so good at carrying the conversation that you forget about your initial expectations. He’s funny, listens well, and if the two of you didn’t have history, you’d probably consider turning him into a friend. Unfortunately, you do have history, and you think it’s too late to turn whatever this is into a friendship when you already know what he looks like between your legs.
(Friends don’t fuck.)
“Oh shit, it’s almost 1:00,” Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets when you get a glimpse at your watch. “It was nice talking to you, but I really need to get going—“
“I’ll walk you,” Seungcheol says, mirroring your hurried movements as he cleans up his and your tray while he grabs his bag. “My class isn’t until 2:00, anyway.”
You quickly protest, but you follow him anyway as he throws the trash and sets the tray with all the other used ones. “You don’t have to—“
“Come on, you’ll be late,” Seungcheol says, not giving you any time to protest as he grabs your hand and starts dragging you out of the restaurant.
His touch is electrifying.
The warmth from his hand bleeds into yours, and the afternoon sun has nothing on the heat that lingers between your palms. It’s innocent, casual, and you shouldn’t be this bothered, but you are.
You don’t let him know that though.
“Getting a little too touchy, no?” You tease when your pace finally matches Seungcheol’s.
Seungcheol only raises his brow at you, a smirk playing on his lips before he’s leaning down to whisper into your ear, “In case you forgot, we’ve done worse.”
Finally, you think, excitement pooling in your gut at Seungcheol’s words. Let the small talk die and let the real fun begin. If you played your cards—and this man—right, then you’ll probably get him under you in no time.
“Maybe I just need a reminder,” You reply coyly, pressing closer against Seungcheol’s arm as you walk. You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to where your chest presses against him, and you definitely don’t miss the way his eyes drag up with a hunger that should only be reserved for more… Private places.
“What time does your class end?” Seungcheol asks, smirk long gone. It’s an innocent question, it’s something you and your friends ask each other all the time when you need to align your schedules for a hangout, but it sounds different coming from Seungcheol.
“3:00, but I’ve got lab until 6:00,” You reply.
“I finish class at 5:30,” Seungcheol says, and the pool of excitement in your stomach quickly doubles into an ocean of anticipation as the two of your pause in front of the building. “Wanna get dinner later?”
“Just dinner?” You ask as you withdraw from Seungcheol’s hold, and you don’t even bother hiding the clear attempt to seduce that bleeds into your tone.
Your words have Seungcheol’s eyes darkening, his jaw clenching as he holds you still by the hand before you can get further away.
“That’s for you to find out,” Seungcheol smirks before letting go of your hand and nudging you forward by the small of your back. “Go on, pretty girl. You’re gonna be late.”
“See you later, Cheol,” You wave before turning your back on the man walking in, making sure to add an extra sway in your hips.
“See you.”
Dinner does not happen.
When you walk out of the building, it’s 6:15 PM, and Seungcheol is already there, leaning against the wall with one hand in his pocket and the other scrolling aimlessly through his phone.
“Sorry,” is the first thing you say as you approach him. “I had to close the lab.”
“It’s fine,” Seungcheol says as he pushes himself off from the wall and grabs your hand. “Where do you wanna eat?”
“Can we skip that?” You ask. Beating around the bush was the last thing you wanted to do after hours of mixing and pipetting. It’s been a long day, and you just needed to get railed. “You and I both know where this is leading to anyway.”
“Straightforward, I like that,” Seungcheol chuckles as he begins guiding you to a motorcycle parked on the side. “My place or yours?”
Your answer comes quicker than you intended it to, but you honestly could not care less, “Yours.”
Seungcheol’s lips are hot against yours before he parts from you and pushes you onto his bed. You’re only given a moment to breathe before he’s crawling on top you and capturing your lips in another hungry kiss that has you squirming underneath him.
“You’re a little too clothed for this, no?” Seungcheol whispers against your lips, and you only smirk at him.
“Take it off then,” You reply before pecking Seungcheol’s mouth and taking him into another heated kiss.
Seungcheol only groans and reciprocates for a second before he’s pulling away and tugging at your shirt. He doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t give you the chance to help him out as he strips you down to your underwear.
“You wear this shit to class?” Seungcheol says in disbelief as he pulls at the lace, watching with dark eyes as it snaps back against your skin.
“I do my laundry on Saturdays,” You grin. “Wanna see it from the back?”
“Later,” Seungcheol says as he takes his own shirt off before leaning down and reaching for you chest. “Let me enjoy these first.”
It’s the only warning you get before Seungcheol’s pulling the cups of your bra down and wrapping his mouth around a nipple.
The contact has your back arching into him, the pleasure only magnifying when Seungcheol starts kneading one breast as he sucks on the other one in his mouth.
“Cheol—“ Your call of his name is interrupted by a gasp when you feel Seungcheol grind his clothed hips against your core. The denim rubs roughly at your heated core, and the thin lace does nothing to dull the sensation.
The man continues to thrust his clothed hips against yours as he alternates between your breasts. Each action only makes you wetter and wetter until your slick saturates your panties and starts staining Seungcheol’s pants.
Fuck, you needed him in you.
“Cheol, fuck me,” You moan out as Seungcheol nips at the flesh of your breast. “Need you inside me.”
“How badly, baby?” Seungcheol asks as he sucks bruises all over your chest.
“Don’t make me beg because I won’t,” You huff, pushing at Seungcheol. “If you don’t do it, I know plenty of other guys who will—“
“Tsk, so impatient,” Seungcheol remarks before pulling away to tug his bottoms down. “I gotta prep you.”
“I’m wet enough, just stick it in,” You whine, but the complaint is quick to die when Seungcheol’s cock springs free.
“Have it your way then,” Seungcheol snorts before he opens his bedside drawer and pulls out a packet that he promptly rips open and rolls onto his cock.
A loud moan breaks free from your lips when Seungcheol sinks into you, stretching you on his cock with a deep groan rumbling from his chest.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol moans when he moves his hips to give you shallow, experimental thrusts as he tries to bury himself deeper into your heat. “You feel so good, shit.”
“Move, Cheol,” You whine, hands coming up to hold onto Seungcheol’s shoulder.
“Let me savor this, baby,” Seungcheol groans, falling forward and bracing himself with his forearms as he presses his forehead against yours. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to feel your cunt again.”
The words immediately send tingles down your spine, your walls clenching and giving your satisfaction away involuntarily. It’s strange how easily Seungcheol turns you on, strange how the smallest things have desire sparking inside you, the smoke and haze clouding your mind until you can no longer think straight.
“Yeah?” You moan in response, arms coming up to wrap around Seungcheol’s neck. “You seemed to be having enough fun without me though, no?”
“Jealous? Don’t be,” Seungcheol smirks, hips easing into slow, deep strokes that have his cock rubbing at all the right spots in torturously pleasurable drags. “I thought of you every time.”
It’s the sex talking, you know that, but fuck, did the confession do wonders for your ego. It has you grinning, has you arching into Seungcheol’s body with a whine as you take his thrusts like a champ.
“You say that to all your girls, Cheol?” You tease, fingers dragging down his back to adorn the wide expanse with red lines.
Seungcheol only shivers under your touch, hips bucking into you at the feeling as he swears under his breath. “Only the ones with a pussy this good.”
You take Seungcheol’s face into your hands, tongue darting out to lick into his mouth as he thrusts in and out of you at a faster pace. The moans that fall from your mouth are quickly swallowed by Seungcheol’s hungry kiss, the man practically stealing your breath and soul away with every thrust that has your toes curling and your back arching.
Only Choi Seungcheol can fuck you this good.
“I’m close,” You breathe out, pulling Seungcheol closer to your body. “Cheol, please.”
“Shh, I’ll get you there,” Seungcheol hushes into your ear before he’s pressing kisses against the side of your face. Holy fuck, this must be why Jeongyeon warned you. It’s easy to get attached when you’re being treated like this, and you have no doubt that Seungcheol probably has a long line of broken hearts behind him if he treats every woman he’s bedded the way he’s treating you now. “Just take it, baby. Take my cock like a good girl, hm?”
“Fuck!” You cry out, pussy clamping down at the man’s words. It’s a little embarrassing that it’s the little praise that’s pushing you off the edge, but you couldn’t care less. Not when you could feel the coil in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. “Shit, Cheol—“
Your high hits you violently, vision going white and mind going blank as an intense pleasure radiates throughout your body. It’s even better than the first time Seungcheol made you cum, and the only thing you can do is moan and whine loudly as Seungcheol chases his high.
“Shit, you’re too tight—“ Seungcheol chokes on his moans as he begins to drive his hips in and out of you with abandon, each stroke firing signals of pleasure that have your brain turning into mush. “Fuck—“
You can practically feel the breath knocked out of you when Seungcheol buries himself to the hilt, body falling on top of you as he moans and groans into your ear. The sounds are so primal, so raw against your ear that it has you clenching tighter around Seungcheol like you’re trying to drain his cock dry of everything.
The night doesn’t end there.
The moment you two recover from the first, you’re pushing Seungcheol onto his back.
“Fuck, you’re insatiable,” Seungcheol breathes out with a laugh that quickly turns into a moan when you sink down on him. “Come on, baby. Show me what you’ve got.”
And show him you do.
You move your hips in slow circles, hands splayed across Seungcheol’s bare chest as you watch the man fall apart underneath you.
Seungcheol looks ruined underneath you, a flush spread across his cheeks as he moans from your ministrations. You watch his strong chest rise and fall in uneven breaths, watch his stomach clench and shift as you work your magic on his cock.
“That’s it,” Seungcheol hisses as he throws his head back against the pillows, hips bucking involuntarily underneath you when you drag your nails down his chest.
You need him absolutely ruined and covered in you.
When Seungcheol reaches for your hips, you grab his hands and pin him by the wrists on either side of his head.
“No touching,” You grin, watching as Seungcheol’s eyes grow dark at your actions.
“Minx,” Seungcheol says through gritted teeth, but he doesn’t break free from your hold. You know he’s indulging you because given the difference in strength and size, Seungcheol could easily flip the entire dynamic and have you crying on his cock. “Don’t complain when you get tired.”
Was that a challenge?
You lean down to press kisses all over Seungcheol’s skin, sucking bruises onto the pale expanse as you raise your hips up and down. The man is a wreck underneath you, moaning loudly with no regard for anyone outside or beside his unit who could hear. He’s loud, and you’re honestly surprised you haven’t heard him during all those nights he was fucking one woman after the other.
“God, these hips, fuck,” Seungcheol groans as you bounce up and down on his cock, hands toying with your nipples as you whine at the sensation of Seungcheol’s cock reaching so much deeper inside you. “So fucking wet, so fucking tight, so fucking hot—shit!”
Seungcheol groans when you clamp down hard on his cock, and you think he might have reached his limits because the next thing you know, the world flips and you’re on all fours, Seungcheol pistoning in and out of you desperately while you claw at the sheets.
“Cheol, slow down—“ You cry out, but Seungcheol only stuffs his fingers inside your mouth.
(Fucking hell, he’s your perfect match.)
“I let you have your fun, pretty girl,” Seungcheol rasps into your ear as he presses his chest against your back and drives his hips deeper into your wetness. “Let me have mine.”
The pace he set is rough, but it only has you smiling, has you clutching onto the pillow for dear life while your eyes cross and your toes curl from the sensation of Seungcheol fucking you brainless.
He fucks you like he wants to embed himself into you, fucks you like he wants to become a part of you. Seungcheol whispers filth into your ear as he takes you, fingers rubbing torturously on your clit while his punishing strokes push you closer and closer to the edge.
“Fucking love this pussy,” Seungcheol groans. “I’m not letting you go after this—shit. When you need cock, you come to me, okay? I’ll fuck you, baby. I’ll fuck you so good.”
You don’t respond, too lost in the pleasure.
“Say it, pretty girl,” Seungcheol mumbles against your ear, tone deceptively soft like his thrusts aren’t harsh. “Say you’ll come to me. Tell me this pussy’s all mine or I won’t let you cum—“
“It’s yours!” You cry out. It’s the sex talking. It’s your proximity to the edge and the desperation to fall off it that has you speaking like this. “This pussy’s all yours to fuck, all yours to take—shit, Cheol! There, right there—“
“That’s right,” Seungcheol groans, continuing to hit the spot that has you shaking and moaning like a whore. You feel like a college girl getting her first taste of a good dicking down, holy shit. “Only I can fuck you this good, so you come to me.”
“Cheol, cumming!”
It’s the only warning you give Seungcheol before you cum, the world going dark as your mouth falls open into a soundless scream. It feels like the world stopped for that moment, all the air stolen from you as your body is overcome by a white hot pleasure that has you seizing before becoming a boneless mush of satisfaction underneath Seungcheol.
The man shortly follows, moans of your name falling from his lips before he’s stilling and soaking the entirety of this cock with your heat. He’s so deep inside your guts that you can feel him in your throat, and it’s the only sensation you can register as you both try to come down from the high.
When Seungcheol pulls out, he’s quick to collapse beside you. There’s a fucked out grin on his face as he pulls you in, satisfaction lining every inch of his face as he breathes you in and nuzzles into your form.
“You’re going to kill me,” Seungcheol breathes out, nosing at your temple with a smile. “Your cunt should come with a warning.”
The words have you laughing, nuzzling happily into the man’s chest as you throw a leg around him and wrap an arm around his waist. “That good, Cheol?”
“That good,” Seungcheol confirms, hand rubbing up and down your bare back. It’s quiet for a few seconds before he speaks again. “Are you hungry?”
Almost as if on cue, your stomach rumbles, and you can only smile sheepishly at Seungcheol as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand and opens a food delivery app.
“What do you wanna eat?” Seungcheol asks as he turns the screen in your direction, thumb scrolling through the little catalogue.
It’s a little intimate, you think, to be wrapped in Seungcheol’s arms while he scrolled through his phone to order food for the two of you. The entire scene is domestic, completely opposite to the way you usually run after satisfying the carnal need in your body.
You don’t dwell on it.
Just enjoy it, you reason. It’s not like you’re going to get attached after a cuddling session. This was you getting your dose of affection after years of being deprived. It’s no different from getting sex.
“That,” You point at the japchae. “I need to stock up on my carbs after what we just did.”
Seungcheol only laughs, ordering two of the japchae and adding chicken before finalizing the order and shutting his phone off.
“30 minutes,” Seungcheol informs you before wrapping his arms around you. “Think I can sneak in round three?”
“You’re insane,” You laugh, swatting at Seungcheol’s bicep.
Seungcheol only laughs, but you don’t miss the way his hands trails lower and lower, ghosting over your waist, your stomach, and your thighs before his fingers are brushing against your cunt.
His fingers dip into your cunt, and you’re immediately biting your lip to suppress the moan that threatens to break free.
“Open that mouth, pretty girl,” Seungcheol whispers into your ear as he rubs circles between the lips of your cunt. “Let me hear you.”
“Cheol, the food—“
“We’ll be done by then,” Seungcheol murmurs, fingers finding your clit. “I’m just getting my appetizer.”
The next thing you know, Seungcheol’s lapping at your heat, fingers pushing your thighs closer to his head while he dips his tongue in and out of your sopping hole. You can only moan, Seungcheol’s name falling from your lips while you run your fingers through his hair.
The man gets you to cum twice before the food comes.
Walking to Seungcheol’s kitchen is a challenge, and you almost feel like a suspicious driver that was pulled over by the cops to prove her sobriety, and honestly, if that was the case then you were failing. The orgasms Seungcheol gave you have you existing on a different plane, your body suspiciously light and your legs treacherously shaky as you walk to Seungcheol who’s placing the boxes on the table.
“Is that my shirt?” Seungcheol asks when his eyes fall on you.
“Yeah, sorry. It’s the first thing I grabbed,” You reply, taking a seat across from Seungcheol and grabbing a pair of chopsticks.
“Don’t be. It looks good on you,” Seungcheol says casually before pushing the japchae towards you. “Eat up.”
Fuck, how did those girls survive this?
A beast in the sheets, a gentleman in the streets—Seungcheol is every woman’s wet dream come to life. He’s being so attentive that if you weren’t so desensitized to the idea of love, you’d be tripping all over your feet because of this man.
You and Seungcheol eat in a comfortable silence, the desire pushed aside to satisfy the physiological hunger the two of you neglected in favor of doing other… Activities.
Seungcheol looks like the prime example of ‘boyfriend material’ as he sits across from you. His hair is messed up, his cheeks are puffed out, and there are traces of red lines and blotches peppered all over his bare chest all thanks to you.
“I was serious, by the way,” Seungcheol says, looking you dead in the eye.
“About what?” You ask before shoving more japchae into your mouth.
“About you coming to me,” Seungcheol replies, and you’re quick to still. This is not good, not good at all. You swear to god if he’s getting attached—
“No strings attached,” Seungcheol says, and the tension is quick to leave your body. “I don’t know about you, but I think we’ve got chemistry.”
You can’t deny that, so you only nod and chew.
“And you literally live next door, so it’s convenient, no?” Seungcheol continues, and you hate that his little pitch is convincing you to actually consider—not even consider, agree.
“So like a friends with benefits sort of thing?” You clarify. You needed to be on the same page because dealing with feelings, commitment, and all those stupid things was the last thing you wanted to do when you already had so much on your plate.
“Yeah,” Seungcheol nods.
“Can we still fuck other people?” You ask, and you don’t know if you’re imagining it, but you swear you saw a flicker of something a little bit like anger in Seungcheol's eyes.
“You can,” Seungcheol shrugs, but it does not feel as casual as he makes it seem. “But can you really handle dealing with me and other guys?”
“Is that a challenge?” You joke, and Seungcheol only rolls his eyes with a chuckle.
“No,” Seungcheol replies. “Do what you want, but trust me when I say that I’ll be fucking you so often that you won’t even have the energy for other guys.”
You almost choke on your noodles, but you’re quick to recover. “Bold words.”
“You know how well I perform,” Seungcheol grins. “So, are you in?”
You’re going to regret this.
“I’m in.”
—
Seungcheol doesn’t know why he’s like this.
It’s been a month since your little arrangement started, and he’s broken every rule he’s set for himself. No marks, no expectations, and no exclusivity. Seungcheol has followed none of those. There isn’t a day where Seungcheol isn’t covered in hickies, there isn’t a day where he isn’t hoping you’ll show up, and there isn’t a day where he’s torturing himself with the idea of you finding some other guy to fuck. You, on the other hand, don't seem bothered at all.
You go on with your life. You humor Seungcheol and the little hangouts—other people would call it dates—that he invites you to. You eat dinner at his place, fuck, and sometimes you stay the night when you don’t have other things to do.
Those are Seungcheol’s favorite nights.
It’s not even the sex he looks forward to. It’s the sight of you wrapped in his sheets, sleeping peacefully while he read through cases and reports. It’s the sudden feeling of you wrapping your arms around him from behind, sleepily whispering in his ear to join you back in bed. It’s the way he’s quick to relent, locking his lips with yours until the two of you are breathless.
He’s fucked. Really fucked, but he can’t stop himself from seeking you out either way.
It’s a Friday night. Seungcheol could be hitting the clubs, drinking himself dead in a bar, or looking for some pretty thing who wouldn’t make him wait this long, but he’s here anyway. He’s been here so long—and so often—that he could probably draw the entire front section of the medical sciences building from memory with 100% accuracy. He doesn’t leave though. Not even when some of the pretty pre-med and medicine students send coy looks his way, not even when his feet start to hurt from standing so long, and not even when the sun sets, leaving him with nothing but the streetlights.
But when Seungcheol sees you at the entrance, all of those inconveniences are quickly forgotten.
“Did you wait long?” You ask before pressing a kiss against Seungcheol’s cheek that has his gut twisting treacherously from the sensation. The rabid butterflies in his stomach only worsen when you wipe at where you kissed him, removing whatever lipstick stayed.
Fuck, he’s so screwed.
“No,” Seungcheol lies through his teeth as he grabs the other helmet resting on his bike and puts it over your head. It’s something he bought a week into your arrangement, justifying the action with some excuse along the lines of how he needed an extra helmet in case the one he’s wearing suddenly breaks.
(Nevermind the fact that it’s in your favorite color.)
“Where are we going?” You ask, hands holding onto the hem of Seungcheol’s jacket as he fastens the helmet, adjusting, loosening, and tightening until he’s sure it’s secure.
“Just a little joyride to my favorite spot,” Seungcheol answers before wearing his own helmet and getting onto the bike. “Unless you’re tired. I have no issue just hanging out at my place—“
“I’m fine,” You reply as you get onto the bike, arms finding their way around Seungcheol’s waist like they belong there. “Nothing beats a Friday night joyride.”
Seungcheol agrees.
The little spot Seungcheol wants to take you is around 20 minutes away, 15 if he’s going to speed, but he isn’t going to risk it. Not when you’re on the back. He’s taken you on little joyrides before, but this spot? This was going to be the first time he’ll take you, the first time he’ll take anyone, really.
It’s his spot after all. It’s where he runs when the world’s too much, where he goes when he needs the space to pretend like nothing else exists. Seungcheol doesn’t know why he’s taking you there, he just knows that it feels right—
“Yah,” Seungcheol warns when he feels your hands wander lower, fingers tracing over his hips the moment the lights turn red. “Don’t start.”
“Start what?” You ask innocently, and Seungcheol can practically see the mischievous smile on your face as you speak.
“You know what.” Seungcheol huffs, busying himself with reaching back and caressing your thighs up and down as he waits for the light to turn green.
In return, you only hum, pressing closer against him and bumping your helmet with his affectionately.
The action has Seungcheol’s heart stuttering, and he resists the urge to cuss himself out for being so affected by something so utterly mundane.
What the hell were you doing to him?
The rest of the ride passes by like that: Seungcheol trying to keep his sanity intact while you—his handsy little backpack—riled him up. Seungcheol was practically counting down the seconds as the two of you got closer and closer to his little spot overlooking the city, eager to enact his revenge on you after all the teasing and groping you’ve been doing.
When the two of you reach the spot, a little grassy patch a few paces away from the road with a view of Seoul’s skyline, Seungcheol immediately gets off, hoists you off the bike, removes your helmets, and promptly drags you to the spot hidden behind the trees.
“Oh wow,” You breathe out when your eyes land on the glittering cityscape and the deep gradient of blue behind it. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Seoul like this.”
“It’s nice, no?” Seungcheol asks as he comes up to stand behind you, arms wrapping around you while you marvel at the sight. “I go here when I’m stressed.”
“I can see why,” You say softly, one arm coming up to scratch at Seungcheol’s head.
It’s soothing, and each drag of your nails against his scalp has Seungcheol’s lids falling lower and lower until the only thing his senses can pick up on is the feeling of your body against his and the scent of your perfume.
(He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it.)
Seungcheol doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches when he kisses your neck, doesn’t miss the way your fingers halt when he drags his lips up before pressing another kiss behind your ear.
“Cheol, we’re in public,” You breathe out, and Seungcheol only grins against your ear before one hand grabs your breast and the other cups your mound. “Cheol—“
“No one’s around though,” Seungcheol coaxes, and the grin on his face only widens when he feels your ass grind back against his groin. “It’s just you and me here.”
“I hate you,” You whine, but it doesn’t deter Seungcheol. It only eggs him on, pushes him to shove his hand down your pants while the other crept up under your blouse.
You twitch and moan underneath Seungcheol’s ministrations, eyes screwed shut and head falling back against the man’s shoulder while he kept you standing.
The next thing Seungcheol knows, your knees are on the grass and his cock is in your mouth.
You’re staring up at him through half-lidded eyes, pink lips stretched wide around his cock while your hands squeezed and played with his balls. Seungcheol doesn’t know how the tables turned so quickly, but he isn’t complaining.
“Fuck, you’re always so good at this—“ Seungcheol chokes on his words when he feels his balls hit your chin, the entirety of his shaft seated deep in your throat while you gagged on him. “Fuck, wait—“
Seungcheol hears you yelp in surprise when he busts inside your mouth, the cold air hitting his cock when pull away and let the cum splatter all over your lips.
It’s dirty, debauched, and despite the urge to shut his eyes and ride his high, Seungcheol keeps his eyes on you. He commits the image of your mouth covered in his cum to memory, engraining the sight of your teary eyes and your cum-coated tongue into every groove of his addled mind.
You wipe at your chin before licking your fingers, eyes locked with Seungcheol’s the entire time—expecting, waiting.
Seungcheol doesn’t miss a beat before he’s raising you onto your feet and pressing you against the tree, mouth crashing against yours to taste himself mixed with your spit.
You moan into Seungcheol’s mouth, whining when his lips part from yours in favor of pressing kisses down your body as he tugs your pants down and removes them.
“Cheol, just fuck me,” You breathe out as Seungcheol gets onto his knees and pulls your panties off, pocketing the damp lace with a mischievous grin.
That’s another one for his collection.
(At this point he’s just buying you new ones so he can steal them.)
“Patience is a virtue,” Seungcheol teases as he presses kisses between your thighs, dragging his lips everywhere but the place you truly want him to be in. “I’ve been waiting all week for this.”
It’s the only warning Seungcheol gives you before he’s diving in, tongue licking a long stripe through your wetness before he fully devours your cunt.
Your cries are music to Seungcheol’s ears, groans of approval rumbling through his chest when you grab onto his hair and start grinding against his face, using him like he’s nothing more than a way for you to get off.
Seungcheol doesn’t mind. If anything, he loves it when you get so desperate that you just have to take control.
“Why are you so good at this?” You moan when Seungcheol sucks on your clit, and he only groans in response.
He doesn’t think he’s ever been this enthusiastic about eating pussy. It’s fun, it’s great, and it’s even better when the girl’s having the time of her life, but Seungcheol isn’t doing this for your pleasure, it’s for his.
It sounds selfish, but Seungcheol is addicted to the taste of you, addicted to the sounds you make, addicted to the feeling of your thighs against his face. Of course he wants you to cum, but that want is secondary compared to the need to have you dripping into his mouth and soaking his face.
There is no saving Seungcheol.
(He’s right where he wants to be.)
Even when you cum, Seungcheol doesn’t stop. He licks and eats until the heat in his stomach is satiated, sucks you clean and covers you in his spit until you’re pushing at his head and crying out his name into the night sky.
When Seungcheol pulls away, you’re gone. Your eyes are hazy, your face is beaded with sweat, and your chest is rising and falling like you just ran a marathon.
“Good?” Seungcheol asks as he gets onto his feet and takes you into his arms.
You nod, “Yeah, just give me a minute.”
When the minute is up, you’re quick to turn your back to Seungcheol, bending over and bracing yourself against the tree with your hands while you look at Seungcheol with hungry eyes, “Whenever you’re ready.”
Seungcheol only grins before reaching into his back pocket to take his wallet out.
Oh fuck no.
“I’ve got bad news,” Seungcheol starts, and he watches you straighten up a fraction. “I don’t have a condom.”
It’s silent for a while.
“Are you clean?” You ask, and Seungcheol has to stop his eyes from bulging out of their sockets. Were you…
Seungcheol can feel his heart pick up pace. This is a line he hasn’t crossed with anyone, ever. It was always condom on, always dutiful testing every time, but you—
“Yeah,” Seungcheol answers. “I haven’t really fucked anyone else, and I’ve got the results on my phone if you want to—“
“I’m clean too, got tested last week,” You reply, and Seungcheol swears there’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you say it. “Haven’t really fucked anyone else either.”
“Okay,” Seungcheol nods, positioning himself behind you. “Birth control?”
“Don’t want a mini-me, Cheol?” You tease, and Seungcheol can feel his dick twitch when the image of you carrying a kid that looks exactly like him crosses his mind. “Kidding, I am.”
(Is it bad that some part of Seungcheol wishes you weren’t?)
“I’ll pull out,” Seungcheol says, and he can practically feel his heart in his throat as he holds onto his cock with one hand and grasps your hip with the other. He’s really doing this, he’s taking your word for it and trusting you blindly, but fuck, the need to be buried in your heat was clouding his mind and pushing aside whatever rational thought remained in his head.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” You grin back at him, and Seungcheol only rolls his eyes.
You had a point.
And that point is proven further when Seungcheol drags his head through your wet lips, the warmth and slick enveloping his cock with no barriers sending tingles up his spine.
He could probably cum from this.
Moans simultaneously fall from your lips when Seungcheol slides in. You’re wet, really wet, and the slick dripping from your slit lets Seungcheol bury himself to the hilt with ease.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Seungcheol hisses, fingers digging into your hips as he strokes in and out of you slowly, savoring the heat, the wetness, and the tightness of your cunt around him. “Never gonna fuck you with a condom on, baby. Not after you’ve given me a taste of this—“
A whine of approval falls from between your lips at the same time you clench around Seungcheol. “Like fucking my pussy bare, Cheol?”
“I love fucking your pussy bare, baby,” Seungcheol groans, hips starting to pick up pace. “And I think you like taking my cock bare too, huh? You’re clenching so tightly, baby. Don’t bother lying to me. I know you like it.”
“I do,” You breathe out, looking behind you to stare at Seungcheol with a sultry, half-lidded gaze that has his cock twitching inside you. “So fuck me like you mean it, Cheol.”
Say less.
Seungcheol fucks you like his life depends on it. He aims for the spots has hour moans increasing in pitch, strokes his cock in and out at a pace that has your knees bucking and your eyes crossing. At one point, Seungcheol has to get his arms around you, keeping you upright while he bent over you and humped into you like doing anything else would kill him.
“You’re being so loud, baby. What if someone hears?” Seungcheol knows no one passes by here, especially not at this hour, but says it anyway because he knows it’ll get you going. “What’ll they say when they see you moaning and crying on my cock like a slut, hm? You’ve got such a pretty face but you’re letting me ruin you like this, fuck.”
“Let them watch,” You moan in reply. “Let them see how much I love taking your cock.”
Seungcheol almost cums then and there, hips stuttering for a second before he’s fucking in and out of you with no regard for anything but the sheer desire to the get both of you coming undone.
“Don’t say shit like that unless you want me to fill you up,” Seungcheol hisses as he pulls your hips back to meet his harsh thrusts. “You’re such a slut, fuck. You treat other guys like this or am I just special, hm?”
“Just you, Cheol!” You whine, little gasps and moans falling from your lips as Seungcheol uses you to his heart—and dick’s—content. “I’m so close, please, please, please—“
You shriek when Seungcheol’s hand finds its way to your clit, fingers rubbing sloppy circles meant to push you closer to the edge.
“Hold it, pretty girl,” Seungcheol rasps into your. “I want to cum with you.”
You whine, fingers clenched into fists as you brace yourself against the tree. “Can’t—“
“You can, baby,” Seungcheol murmurs against your ear as he feels his balls seize and his stomach clench at the impending orgasm. It’s a big one, he can tell. He can feel the electricity all the way to his toes, can feel his body tensing in anticipation of something mindblowing. “Where?”
“Anywhere—fuck, please just let me cum, Cheol, please—“
Seungcheol can’t hold back anymore, “Cum for me, baby.”
A loud cry of Seungcheol’s name falls from your lips at the same time you clamp violently down on Seungcheol’s dick. The sensation is so sudden and so strong that Seungcheol is immediately thrown headfirst into an orgasm that has him swearing and biting into your shoulder to muffle his moans.
He’s not cumming anywhere else after this.
Seungcheol can feel his cum fill you up, and your cunt only spasms sporadically around him like it approves, like it wants him to paint your insides white with his spunk. It’s warm, wet, intimate, and Seungcheol feels so tied to you in that moment that he can’t find it in himself to pull out even when his cock no longer has anything to spill.
When you turn your head around and raise a hand to Seungcheol’s jaw, he’s quick to lean down and capture your lips.
It’s soft, slow, and it has Seungcheol’s heart beating treacherously as he licks into your mouth and grinds his softening cock to drive his release deeper into your core. It’s useless, he knows that.
(But it’s the thought that counts.)
The possessiveness from his end has always been there, and you letting him cum inside you like this has only served to worsen it. This is his pussy, his woman. His to hold, his to touch, his to fuck, his to love—
Seungcheol can feel the world stop.
“Cheol?” You murmur against his lips when you feel him still. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Seungcheol replies quickly as he pecks your lip and pulls out against his will. If Seungcheol wasn’t going through hell and back right now, he would probably get on his knees and lick at the globs of white dribbling from your hole. “I thought I heard something.”
You only give him a look before nodding. “Can I get my panties back?”
“No,” Seungcheol grins like he isn’t going through a crisis, grins like the foundation of everything he’s known and upheld isn’t being violently shaken. “They’re mine now.”
You aren’t his, but Seungcheol—and it terrifies him to admit this—is yours.
It’s just sex to you, but it isn’t to Seungcheol, it hasn’t been for a while, he realizes. Is this what all the other girls felt when he was fucking them with no feelings? It felt bad, really bad.
“Typical,” You say with a roll of your eyes, a small smile on your lips as you pull your pants up. “Wanna get dinner?”
“Sure,” Seungcheol nods as he pulls his bottoms up and takes your hand to guide you back to where his bike’s parked. “What are we feeling?”
We. It feels right, and Seungcheol doesn’t think he can live without all of this anymore.
“Chimaek?” You ask, and Seungcheol nods.
“Chimaek it is.”
—
You’re fucked.
It’s been two months since you started this arrangement with Choi Seungcheol, and neither of you seem to have any plans of stopping. It’s good, great even. Seungcheol is quite literally the man of your dreams and that is the problem. You’re doing less of the sex and more of the enjoying each other’s company, and it scares you because this is not what you were expecting.
You were expecting to get your back blown out every now and then before taking your leave like it’s some kind of spa appointment. You were not expecting the gentle aftercare, the movie nights, the café dates, the library hangouts, the intimate dinners, the Friday night joyrides, the sweet slow fucking—
Choi Seungcheol was treating you less like a way to get off and more like a girlfriend, and it terrifies you because you don’t want him to stop.
You’re not supposed to get attached. Especially not to someone who’s known for using women until they catch feelings and discarding them when they do. You did not want to be on the list of women that Seungcheol has fucked into falling in love with him, your pride can’t take it.
(Neither can your heart.)
You’re in the middle of a self-care shopping session when Seungcheol calls, and you hate the way you’re quick to find a quiet corner to pick up his call.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” You answer, and you swear your heart seems to beat faster at the sound of his voice. “Why’d you call?”
“Where are you?” Seungcheol asks, and in the background you can hear the sound of a bike revving up.
“At the mall,” You answer. “Thinking if I should buy the skirt I was talking about.”
“The lilac one?” Seungcheol asks, and you can’t help the smile that makes its way to your face. He remembers even the smallest rambles. Of course he does. “I’m on my way.”
“What?” Your body is suddenly on full alert. “Why?”
“Can’t I hang out with my favorite girl?” Seungcheol is teasing you, you know that, but knowing that doesn’t change the fact that his words have your pulse quickening. “Be there in 10 minutes.”
“Don’t speed,” You scold, and Seungcheol chuckles from the other line.
“Got it, boss.”
And the call ended there.
You can no longer focus on your little shopping spree, too bothered by Seungcheol’s sudden disturbance during a day that was supposed to be about that self-love shit all those mental health gurus spoke about. The only thing you can think about is why. His make-up class just ended. He could head straight home and sleep the rest of the day away to recover his energy but he chose to go to you.
And you didn’t even ask him to.
“Hey.”
You’re quick to turn at the sound of Seungcheol’s voice.
It’s unfair how he just keeps looking better every time you see him. White slacks, brown polo, that godforsaken ID lace—Seungcheol makes his everyday wear look like something that was ripped off a runway. The outfit coupled with the smile, the dimples, the pushed-back hair—
A kiss is pressed to your cheek at the same time Seungcheol takes your hand, and that’s how your fate is sealed, you think.
“What was that for?” You ask when Seungcheol pulls away and starts guiding you back to the store with the skirt you’ve been eyeing.
“Just felt like it,” Seungcheol shrugs like he didn’t just ruin the foundation of everything you believed in. “Shall we?”
“Where are we going?” You ask.
“To the store,” Seungcheol snorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re getting that skirt.”
You stare at him incredulously. “Sorry, we?”
“My bad,” Seungcheol looks at you with a grin. “I’m getting the skirt.”
Despite your protests, Seungcheol somehow manages to tap his card and get you the lilac skirt you’ve been eyeing since it crossed your feed the other week.
“I’m paying you back,” You tell Seungcheol, walking out of the store not knowing if you’re supposed to be giddy or guilty. It’s expensive, and even if it probably wouldn’t put a dent on Seungcheol’s account, you still hate the idea of owing him.
“Don’t bother because I’m just going to return it,” Seungcheol waves you off. “Where do you wanna eat?”
“You pick,” You reply quickly. There was no way in hell you were going to be the one to pick when Seungcheol already paid for the overpriced skirt sitting prettily in the shopping bag you’re holding.
“Okay.”
You resist the urge to scream when Seungcheol takes you to your favorite restaurant. Of course he’d do that. Of course the universe would push him in that direction just to make things worse for the walls around your heart that were crumbling like heaps of loosely packed sand.
“Didn’t know you liked it here,” You comment.
“Got used to it,” Seungcheol shrugs. “Your usual?”
“Yeah,” You nod before sweeping your eyes across the restaurant to look for an empty seat. “I’ll go look for a seat.”
“Go ahead,” is the only thing Seungcheol says as he gives your hip a squeeze before letting you go.
You hate this.
What was supposed to be a date with yourself quickly became a date with Seungcheol. Was it a date? You liked to think it was. Anyone who was witnessing it would call it that with how sweet and doting Seungcheol is towards you. He hasn’t let your hand go, hasn’t let you pay for anything, hasn’t let you out of his sight.
The only thing missing was the label, really.
Friends don’t do this, not even the ones who come with benefits. They don’t hold your hand and press a kiss to your head every once in a while. They don’t laugh at each and every one of your jokes and pinch your cheek affectionately. They don’t get you flowers from a random stall just because it would look prettier in your hands. They don’t do everything Seuncheol does when he’s with you.
What were you two?
And when did the two of you ever reach this point? When did you ever let Seungcheol so close to your heart? When did you ever let him infiltrate your routine so deeply that his absence made things feel… Wrong?
“You want bingsu?” Seungcheol asks as he points toward the little dessert café in the distance. “You said you were craving some last night, right?”
“Sure,” You nod. “But I’m paying this time.”
“You’ll have to beat me to it,” Seungcheol only looks at you with that handsome smile of his. The one that has his cheeks sinking into treacherously adorable dimples that have your heart skipping and tumbling.
The day ends at Seungcheol’s apartment.
He’s lying down on the couch with you resting on top of him, the two of you locked in a languid kiss that had no definite direction. You’re kissing for the hell of it, hands all up in Seungcheol’s hair while he rubbed and squeezed you all over.
This isn’t how it should be.
It should be carnal, meaningless beyond its purpose as a way to satiate the call of the flesh. You and Seungcheol should be desperately stripping each other, hunger fueling your movements as you chase that sinful high, but that’s not what’s happening.
Seungcheol’s just kissing you.
You’re just kissing Seungcheol.
It’s just a kiss.
(It feels like so much more than that.)
“Wanna stay the night?” Seungcheol murmurs against your lips before pressing a tender kiss to your chin.
Your eyes flutter shut at the soft sensation. “Aren’t you tired?”
“We don’t have to fuck,” Seungcheol mumbles as he drags his lips against the column of your throat. “We can just sleep if you don’t wanna.”
“Why?” You breathe out. You’ve been asking that so often that you think the word is already branded onto your tongue.
“Why not?” Seungcheol chuckles, hands moving to squeeze at your hips. “But you don’t have to.”
But you want to.
You want to fall asleep in his arms, want to wake up in it. You crave the intimacy, the comfort, the warmth, but most of all, you crave Seungcheol. So against your better judgement, you say, “I’ll stay.”
You’re fucked.
—
Jeongyeon doesn’t like Choi Seungcheol.
She knows you can handle yourself, it’s why she didn’t meddle when she found out that you were in some no-strings-attached arrangement with the guy. Sure, she’s worried, but she’s not going to dictate your life. The most she can do is watch out for the guy and steer you off the path to loving him when you started showing signs like the rest of her blockmates did when Seungcheol got them dickmatized.
Unfortunately, when she gets to you, it’s too late.
You’re standing at her door, wide-eyed, utterly horrified, and with one sentence, you confirm her greatest fears:
“Jeongyeon, I think I like him.”
It’s a good thing her fridge is filled with beer and bad ideas.
Jeongyeon listens to you talk about the man, about how handsome he is, how well he treats you, and how soft he makes you feel every time you’re with him. Jeongyeon doesn’t hear you say anything about his dick—not that she wants to hear it—and she thinks that’s the worst part.
Because you see Choi Seungcheol as more than a quick fuck, and Seungcheol, no matter how kind or gentlemanly he’s being, is never in these relationships for anything more than just a quick fuck.
You ramble and ramble, beer in one hand and heart in the other, and it takes everything in Jeongyeon not to shake you and tell you to run the way you always do.
You were too happy. Terrified by the rawness of the feeling gnawing at your heart, sure, but happy, and Jeongyeon doesn’t think she’s seen you smile like this in a while.
“Girl, there is no saving you,” Jeongyeon concludes for the nth time that night after you pause in your little rant about how Seungcheol looked so adorably bitable in the mornings. “Why don’t you just confess?”
“Telling me to die would’ve been kinder, Jeongyeon-ah,” You reply with a sigh, clutching tighter onto your beer bottle as you pull your legs in and rest your chin on your knees. “You know how he is.”
Jeongyeon does, but it’s been a while since she’s heard Seungcheol’s name float around in the halls. Which is odd because the girls in her class are usually whispering about his latest fuck and who might be next followed by the same girls wishing it was them.
Odd, but Jeongyeon doesn’t dwell on it.
“Well, it’s better than keeping it to yourself and falling even deeper for the guy,” Jeongyeon shrugs.
“I’m not gonna fall in love—“
“Y/N, you already have,” Jeongyeon says, and she watches as you tense and cave in on yourself like you can’t handle the weight of reality falling down onto you all at once. “I know you.”
And Jeongyeon knows that beneath your lustful, unfeeling exterior is the girl who’s still hoping for true love despite all the times she’s been fucked over by the male population. You weren’t always like this: so determined to stay unattached and unavailable. You’ve always had a lot of love to give, always been the kind of girl who dreamed of finding her one true love and settling down in some cute suburban house with a dog and two kids, but life happens.
Jeongyeon still remembers the first break-up: some shitty senior from college who wooed you, took your virginity, and promptly left once he got what he wanted. She still remembers the men that came after, the ones who pretended to be the ideal man just so they could score one night. She also remembers the ones who stuck around, the extremely jealous bastards who’d tear you down to keep you tethered while they fucked other women behind your back. Jeongyeon honestly doesn’t blame you for being so pessimistic about men when your history was full of assholes.
“Do I just end it?” You whisper softly, and Jeongyeon wants to say yes, but the glimmer of hope in your eyes has Jeongyeon swallowing her words and shaking her head.
“Maybe you should talk to him first,” Jeongyeon suggests. It’s the logical route. The mature way of handling things. It may be pointless given Seungcheol’s tendencies, but it’s better than you not trying and tormenting yourself with the what if’s.
“I’ll try,” You mumble in reply. “But I kinda just wanna get shitfaced right now.”
Jeongyeon only smiles. “Let’s do that then.”
Maybe it’s time for her to intervene.
(Unfortunately, things go to shit even before Jeongyeon can intervene.)
Jeongyeon thinks it’s a little tacky to be throwing a birthday party at a club, but Jeongyeon doesn’t question it. She’s just here to build a rapport with her peers and the free fancy alcohol that Jennie was paying for with daddy’s money.
“Oh my god, I can’t watch this,” Nayeon tucks her face into Jeongyeon’s shoulder, immediately piquing the latter’s curiosity. “Girl, he doesn’t want you.”
“What’s happening?” Jeongyeon asks, looking around the club to search for the potential source of entertainment.
Nayeon points towards one of the booths, and what Jeongyeon sees immediately has her stomach twisting in knots.
Jennie’s drunk, clinging onto Seungcheol who has an unreadable expression on his face. She’s got his arm trapped between her breasts, her perfectly manicured finger tracing lascivious circles on the man’s chest as she whispers something into his ear.
This is not good, but Jeongyeon gives Seungcheol the benefit of the doubt. Presumption of innocence: Seungcheol is innocent until proven guilty.
However, it doesn’t sit right with Jeongyeon. Jennie has always been head over heels for the man, her little masochistic crush unwavering even when whispers of Seungcheol fucking some other girl who’s not her flies around the halls. She always takes it in stride with a smile, the woman completely deluded that things would go her way when the timing’s right.
Jeongyeon almost feels bad for her.
(But she’s more worried about you.)
“Oh wait, I think she’s got a shot,” Nayeon says from beside Jeongyeon as Seungcheol hoists Jennie onto her feet and starts dragging her out of the club.
You aren’t exclusive. It’s something you told Jeongyeon when babbling about the informal arrangement. Seungcheol could fuck who he wanted the same way you could, but feelings don’t listen to technicalities.
This would ruin you.
Jeongyeon’s torn between telling you and letting you find out. After all, she doesn’t have the full details. She doesn’t know where Seungcheol’s going, doesn’t know where he’s taking Jennie’s drunk ass while all her friends whistled and hollered. For all Jeongyeon knows, he could just be taking her home, but all current evidence shows otherwise. But then again, she doesn’t have solid proof, and she wasn’t about to burden you with something that hasn’t occurred yet.
And so, Jeongyeon decides to keep her mouth shut until you ask or until she’s got enough evidence.
There’s nothing else she can do beyond that.
—
You think you’re going to be sick.
[jenniekim] ‘Thanks for last night <3’
A heart and a vague caption, they’re usually things you wouldn’t think twice about scrolling past, but not this time. Not when the heart and the vague caption came with a picture of a drop dead gorgeous woman—you assume she’s Jennie—clinging onto Seungcheol. It’s only made worse when you move to the next screenshot and find a picture of Jennie looking absolutely gone while she clings onto Seungcheol’s arm. The final nail in your coffin comes when you play the screen-recording of a video from some dump account’s IG story captioned: ‘get your man girl’.
And the video shows the vague figures of Seungcheol dragging Jennie out of the club.
There’s no mistaking it.
It’s him.
You’ve seen that body, touched that body, worshipped that body too many times to be wrong. You’ve spent too many nights watching that strong back shift and move, spent too many days with that view.
You’re going to puke.
[Jeongjeongie <3]: just a heads up
[Jeongjeongie <3]: nothing’s confirmed but I thought you should know.
[You]: Thanks, bestie
[You]: Totally not sobbing right now
[You]: JK, I’m fine, don’t worry.
[You]: We aren’t exclusive, so it’s fine.
It’s not fine. It’s the farthest thing from fine.
[Jeongjeongie <3]: well, if you ever want to fuck him up
[Jeongjeongie <3]: you know who to call
[You]: Thanks
[You]: ily
You mute your phone and shove it into your bag before you could torture yourself even more. Not that you needed to look at the pic to do that. You had stared at it for so long that the image has already burned itself into your retina. It didn’t matter if your eyes were closed or open, you could still see the red of Jennie’s dress complementing the black of Seungcheol’s shirt, could still play the video of them leaving the club in 4K.
It hurts.
It feels like your chest is caving in on itself, like your heart was being crushed in the unfeeling palm of someone who wanted you dead. It has you tearing up, your throat tightening and your head pounding as you try to recall those stupid breathing exercises that were meant to ground you but none of it is working.
Did Seungcheol get sick of you? Did he finally get his fill of you and realized that he needed something new? What did she have that you didn’t? Was she a better fuck? Or did you just get boring? Is that it? It probably was. You’re stupid for thinking that Seungcheol wanted you for anything beyond sex. That’s all you are anyway, a way to get off, a way to remove the edge. Maybe your ex was right. You’re not the type of woman that men can love, you’re the kind they pass around.
Well fuck them then.
The ache quickly turns into anger, and the anger quickly turns into a desire for revenge.
If Seungcheol was going to fuck other people, then so were you, and you were going to enjoy every single second of it.
—
Mingyu is a patient man.
But he likes to think that even a patient man has his limits.
You’ve been eyeing him like prey since the moment you walked into the little house party his frat brothers are throwing, and he can’t say that he hates it. If anything, Mingyu loves it. The woman he’s been pining after for a year suddenly showing something beyond professional courtesy and friendly banter? Sign him the fuck up.
That’s why when he catches your sultry gaze for the nth time that night, Mingyu decides to down the rest of his liquid courage in one go before walking over to where you’re refilling your cup with the dreadful concoction his brothers made.
“How are you not dying from that?” Mingyu says as he stands beside you, watching you fill your cup with what might just be liquid poison.
“Practice,” You reply, taking a sip of the drink before pulling a face. “Want some?”
Mingyu only takes your wrist, bringing the cup to his lips, and taking a sip of the drink he swore he’d never touch again.
The taste of chemical hits Mingyu’s tongue, and it takes everything in him not to sputter and spit the liquid out. Call it childish, call it high school, but he wasn’t about to look like an idiot in front of the woman he likes.
Mingyu, against his better judgment, swallows and says, “Still as bad as I remember.”
You only giggle before reaching up, a perfectly manicured finger tracing the line of alcohol at the corner of Mingyu’s mouth before you pop it between your lips.
There isn’t a single coherent thought in Mingyu’s head after that.
“Tastes fine to me,” You reply, and Mingyu doesn’t know if he’s imagining it, but he swears there’s an edge to your tone that’s meant to provoke.
It’s a blur from there.
Mingyu follows you to your apartment like a sailor strung by the notes of a siren’s song. He feels like he’s in a daze as you pull him in and crash your soft lips against his in a ravenous kiss that has his body burning up.
He knows you’re just using him, knows he’s just another notch on your bedpost, but that doesn’t stop him from kissing back with just as much—if not more—hunger. He’s waited for this, craved this and more. It may not be the timeline envisioned for you two but—
Mingyu will take what he can get.
It’s stupid, but Mingyu can’t help but hope that maybe he can fuck you well enough to make you fall in love with him the way he’s in love with you.
“Fuck me, Gyu,” You murmur against Mingyu’s lips as you pull him back into your bed.
Mingu only follows the tug at his shirt and his heart, hands moving hastily to strip you and him before he’s rolling the condom onto his cock and positioning it at your entrance.
You’re just using him.
(Mingyu would gladly be used by you.)
A/N: Hello everyone! Not sure if y’all are still around, but I’m just dropping this for those who are still interested. Part 2 will be dropped some time next year. Thank you for reading this far!
Summary — You weren't happy about having to go Ice Skating knowing very well that you were not good at it, but maybe it was just what you needed to get your man
Genre — fluff, friends to lovers au
Warnings — tension, first kiss
Word Count — 0.8k
Rating — sfw 🍵
A/N — Here comes your Secret Santa with your gift @lovetaroandtaemin , i hope you like it!✨️
„I will fall.“ You deadpanned unimpressed when you stared at Seungkwan who held up the Skates for you to take.
“I will. Fall.” You said again, you words almost like a promise for the future but your friend yet again waved your concern of to force the skates into your hands
Not entirely sure how you had gotten roped into Ice Skating with your friends when you loathed the cold with your entire being, but somehow there you stood. Wrapped in your winter coat, a scarf so big you could use it as a blanket around your neck and a hat with cat ears that Seungkwan had gifted you the year before placed on your head.
The worst thing wasn’t even the cold or that you would surely fall flat on your face as soon as you would step on the ice, no. It was that you would do all that not just in front of your friends but also in front of the one guy you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front off. Seokmin wouldn’t laugh at you, that you were sure off. But you’d still rather roll over dead then stalking around like a new born fawn learning to walk.
But knowing your friends, they would not let you just stand at the side and watch them so you accepted defeat. (More or less at least)
“I WILL FALL, BOO SEUNGKWAN!” You tried one last time, now sitting on one of the benches that were provided to slip the skates on and not daring to move a muscle.
You could hear them snicker at you, most of them already cruising around the frozen surface and kindly flipped them off. Jun gave you one right back with a bright smile which earned him a tongue stuck out at him.
Seungkwan rolled his eyes.
“Come on y/n! The ice will have melted by the time you get on it…”
Asshole.
“Aish Dkkkk, get her on here already….”
You would kill him.
The blond boy would die at your own hands sooner rather then later!
Wanting to wipe the shit eating grin off his face when Seokmin did in fact listen to him and came to the barricade of the rink where you were still sitting in your internal panic that you prayed to god, did not show on your face.
“I don’t want to…” you pouted up at him but only received a shake of his head with that dazzling smile on his face that always left you star struck. You watched in defeat how he Seokmin stepped of the ice to bend down, take your hands in his and pull you to your feet.
“Come now, I’ll help you.” He snickered at your reluctance.
“But Kyeom-ah–“
“Just keep holding my hands. I promise I won’t let you fall.”
His words had your cheeks heating tremendously but they shut you up and you followed his lead onto the ice.
The first step already proved to be quite the struggle as you quickly lost your footing upon contact with the frozen water.
Seokmin, slowly gliding backwards never let go.
“Just trust me.”
He guided you further along, preventing you from falling with every step you took while gentle praises for staying upright rained down on you. It made you blend out Seungkwan, Jun, Vernon and Gyu almost entirely. Eyes solely set on him just like his were on you.
“Take one step after the other, slowly. We have time so we don’t need to rush anything. One and two and one and two…”
You shivered, this time not because of the cold.
Following his instructions it was like you were in trance. Completely absorbed and concentrated you bit your lips, not noticing the way Seokmin’s eyes flickered down and neither did you notice how it affected him.
The man almost melted at the sight.
“Just like that and just keep your balance.”
“Isn’t that what I got you for?” you questioned shakily when your knees buckled.
Vernon, leaning against the barricade with the boys shook his head at the two of you.
“God how obvious can these two be?”
Jun and Seungkwan snorted at his words.
They watched the spectacle and how their friend carefully loosened his grip on you. Watched how you panicked, slingered and toppled down to the icy floor, pulling Seokmin right on top of you. They didn’t see how in the split of a second your lips suddenly touched his nor did they hear how you stuttered out a hasty apology that Seokmin simply ignored in favor of properly kissing you again.
The boys watching had to pick their jaws up from the floor at the sight.
“What even-“ Jun cursed with wide eyes.
Wide eyes that mirrored yours own.
“Don’t apologize. You have no idea how long I wanted to do this, so don’t say you are sorry because I’m not.”
“I told him I would fall.” You whispered into the space between your faces.
“For me too?” he asked tilting his head gently with a smile that almost blinded you.
SYNOPSIS. in which you get dared to stand under the mistletoe.
PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x gn!reader (ft. seungcheol as reader's older brother, implied other members are there too)
GENRE. fluff, brother's best friend to lovers
WARNINGS. mild swearing, booseoksoon are menaces, light kissing
WORD COUNT. 1.5k
notes: for the "a very seventeen christmas" secret santa event by @camandemstudios! ho ho ho! this is your secret santa wheeboo speaking, and this fic is to be delivered to @soo0hee <3 i hope you enjoy hehe and have a wonderful christmas of your own!!!
"I dare Y/N to pick the most attractive person in the room and stand with them under the mistletoe."
Silence.
Utter silence at that.
Then a choked laugh rings out from someone𑁋probably Seokmin𑁋and you can feel fire burst out of your ears and swallow you whole. Your body sinks into the couch as the moments pass, feeling as if a million different pairs of eyes were all staring at you, waiting for you to do something.
"Are you serious right now?" You somehow muster up a chance to shoot a daggered glare right at Soonyoung, who was staring at you back so innocently.
You should have expected this, should have known better than to agree to join your friends' ridiculous game of truth or dare. But now, here you were. And as if the whole situation wasn't embarrassing enough, your eyes instinctively drift to Jeonghan across the room.
He was doing everything but being interested in the game, sitting on the couch right next to Seungcheol𑁋your older brother𑁋with his feet up on the coffee table and his arms crossed, rolling his eyes jokingly at whatever Seungcheol was saying.
Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who caught your eyes years ago when your brother brought him home for the first time. Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who used to ruffle your hair in the hallways back in high school and tease you about bombing your math exams, not realising how those little interactions meant to you. Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who never seemed to notice how much you'd grown since then, how much more you wanted him now.
Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who had always been lurking in the corners of your heart, but never fully in your reach. And you've accepted that fate a long time ago.
A lump forms in your throat. You already know this is going to be a disaster, especially with your friends staring at you like hawks, but it's not like you can choose someone else.
No, your eyes just had to gravitate straight to Jeonghan. Your brother's best friend.
Taking a deep breath, you find your feet begin to move on their own, dragging you across the room to where Seungcheol and Jeonghan were sitting.
You notice how calm Jeonghan is, how effortlessly relaxed he looks simply minding his own business, and it only seems to make everything worse, because you're about to do something that might just haunt you for the rest of your life.
When you approach closer, you hear the whispers of your friends behind your back. Jeonghan glances up from his spot on the couch, his brow raising upon your presence.
"Um..." You croak out nervously. "Hi."
It's just a game, You remind yourself. Just a game.
Jeonghan looks at you quizzically for a moment, and then his lips curl into a faint smile. But you don't detect any amusement in his features, any hint he might tease you senseless𑁋just a warm, easygoing expression that almost makes you forget why you're standing here.
"What's up?" he simply asks, and it's enough for you to beg the world to crush you.
"I, uh..." You seriously want to slap yourself in the face right now. "I pick you."
His eyes widen slightly, and your stomach ties itself into a knot.
"Me?" he questions.
"Uh, yeah." You nod quickly, dipping your head down guiltily. "We're supposed to... stand under the, um... mistletoe?"
Jeonghan doesn't answer right away, just glancing between Seungcheol's suspicious eyes towards the two of you and the mistletoe that stands proudly above the doorway to the living room.
Then he just fucking smirks.
"Well then," He takes his feet off the coffee table and stands up. "Lead the way."
Seungcheol opens his mouth to say something, but you're already walking away before he could get a word out. Each step feels heavier than the last as you trudge towards the stupid mistletoe, with Jeonghan casually following behind you.
When you reach the spot beneath the mistletoe, you stand there awkwardly, unsure of where to go from there. Jeonghan stands right in front of you, way closer than you anticipated, and you have to fight the urge to meet his eyes.
"So..." You turn back towards your friends. "Game over, right?"
"Of course not!" Seungkwan chimes in, shaking his head. "You still have to kiss, duh."
You're this close to kicking every single one of your friends in the shin.
"I𑁋That was not part of the dare!" You protest, face reddening. "You can't just𑁋"
"No takesie backsies!" Seokmin exclaims, and you give him your friendliest death glare.
You want to die. Or at least crawl into a hole and never come out. That would be nice right now.
"Y/N," he calls out to you, so quietly only you can hear. "It's okay. It's just a stupid dare, right?"
All the words that ache to tumble out of you immediately disperse when you meet his soft eyes. The way he's gazing at you has your legs feeling like jelly, your heart running marathons, your nervous façade crumbling just slightly. You almost forget about how your entire situation is put on display for everyone to watch.
"I won't bite, you know," Jeonghan muses playfully, yet when he catches the worried look on your face, his smirk fades away. "Y/N? Look at me."
You hesitate for a moment, before torturously lifting your head to look up at him. He's so pretty, especially up close, so close you can't help but flicker down to his lips for a second𑁋
"We can just get this over with, yeah?" His eyes hold yours even as he inches closer. "It'll be quick."
It's just a kiss, You tell yourself. Just a kiss.
"Okay," You murmur, feeling your feet root into the floor. "Okay."
Then when he gives you that smile again, you suddenly can't move. Jeonghan places one hand on your shoulder, another one coming up to hover closer to your cheek, though his warmth still seeps within even when he isn't fully touching you.
"Don't worry." He leans in more, his breath ghosting against your skin, and your eyelids flutter to a close. "It's just me."
Your heart pounds so loudly you're sure he can hear it. You can't see his face, but you know he's just a breath away from your mouth.
However, you also don't see the way he pauses right before your quivering lips, how his gaze roams over your face like he's studying you. You hear a chuckle.
"Cute."
Then before you can fully process, the softest touch of his lips land right at the corner of your mouth. It's gentle, light, lingering a few beats longer than necessary, and it's somehow more intimate than a kiss on the lips.
And then like a snap, it's over. Jeonghan pulls away from you slowly, the warmth from his touch spreading through your body like a wildfire. The room erupts into an obnoxious round of applause. You only stand there like a lost child, because the world and your damn brother now all know that you're hopelessly in love with Yoon Jeonghan.
And the worst part? It wasn't just a kiss in front of everyone𑁋he made it feel real.
"I..." You clear your throat, pursing your lips together. "I need a drink."
You're quick to dash towards the kitchen, away from your friends and Jeonghan.
Stepping into the kitchen, the cool air calms your flushed skin. You lean against the counter and let out a groan, burying your face in your hands, willing the heat to leave your face.
"Y/N?"
Shit.
"You okay?"
"No." You give a half-hearted laugh. "because now everyone and my brother knows I have a crush on you."
Jeonghan stands right next to you by the counter, tilting his head to get a better view of your face as he smirks amusedly. You roll your eyes, unable to grasp how much he seems to enjoy seeing you flustered.
"Seriously?" You frown. "You think this is funny? You𑁋"
"I think it's cute," Jeonghan interrupts confidently. "You're cute, and I'd rather kiss you properly than have it be from a stupid dare."
Your jaw drops to the floor, your brain short-circuiting, and you stare at him like he's just told you the most absurd thing in the world. And in a way, it is.
"Don't mess with me, Yoon Jeonghan."
"I'm not," Jeonghan responds affirmatively. "but it's fun watching you squirm."
You groan helplessly. "I hate you."
"No, you don't." He grins, the smugness oozing off him, and it's so infectious that you also smile, because he's right𑁋you don't. "Your brother can kill me for all I care, but..."
Jeonghan steps up to you until there's barely any space left between you two, reaching out to push back a strand of hair behind your ear. This time, when his lips meet yours, it's not a dare; not rushed or pressured, nor a product of your ridiculous friends’ antics. Though brief, it's deliberate, soft, like he's been waiting for this moment as long as you have.
When he pulls back, he shoots you a wink. "...I'll make this worth it for you."
And just like that, Yoon Jeonghan has you completely, hopelessly, irrevocably smitten. You can't decide if you want to slap him or kiss him again.
Before you could remotely question what the hell you just got yourself into, Seungcheol's unmistakable voice booms from the living room.
"Y/N! Jeonghan! Get your asses out here right now!"
☆, pairing: lee seokmin x reader
☆, description: cuddling with your boyfriend could heal any ache.
☆, warnings/tropes: non-idol au, short, fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, boyfriend seokmin, mentions of period cramps (reader is assumed to be female), kissing, skinship (specifically cuddling), pet names: seok (his), love (reader's)
☆, lyr's footnotes: period cramps are not fun. i hate them. anyways dedicated to dawn (@realmofclouds) because she actually inspired me to do something productive today <3 thank you dawn ily
☆, now playing: healing — seventeen
☆, word count: 451
☆, written for: @kstrucknet
"can we cuddle?"
you're falling into the plush sheets of you and seokmin's shared bed, dull pain in your body ebbing for a split second before it comes rushing back, nearly knocking you out. a groan escapes your lips, and seokmin already knows what's happening, phone discarded as he pulls you close to his chest.
"of course we can cuddle, love." seokmin's arms are wrapping around your body like it's second nature, spooning you in his arms as you lay on his lap. his thighs are firm under you, grounding you in a way that keeps the nausea from biting at your back.
"you started?" seokmin asks softly, stroking your hair away from your face as he traces your jawline. you nod, sighing in content as seokmin presses a hand to your lower body, applying pressure on the spot he knows you need it.
"i'm so sorry, love. i wish it wasn't so hard on you." seokmin really did hate seeing you like this, sluggish and pale as you lounged on his lap.
it hurt him, knowing he couldn't take the cramps away from you. seokmin would take it, if he could. he told you that every time you asked him to be the big spoon in bed.
"do you need me to get you anything? water, a snack, an extra blanket?" seokmin's pressing kisses to your clammy forehead, watching you as you slowly shake your head.
"just...need to stay here for a while. that's all," a small smile comes on your face as seokmin presses a kiss to your soft lips, nodding in response.
"of course. we'll stay in bed as long as you want to stay, love." seokmin's nodding without a second thought, and you say a quick thank you, finally finding enough comfort to stop tossing and turning.
as you allow your eyes to close, he stares down at you, a smile on his features as he studies your now pain-free face. you look like you're resting peacefully, cheek slightly pressed into seokmin's thigh as your breath tickles his skin.
"are you feeling sleepy? i can lay you down and tuck you in if you want me to," seokmin's already ready to do something for you, but you shake your head, patting his leg in reassurance.
"no, no, seok. i wanna stay right here. on your lap. with you." you smile, and seokmin nods, tension leaving both of your bodies as the two of you relax together for the first time in what feels like forever. you could feel the healing from seokmin's touch and smile already spreading through your body, and you knew it was just a matter of time before you were up and running again.
When the sales for your next tour suck, does any publicity become good publicity?
Pairings: Lee Seokmin x reader
Genre: Formula 1 au, fake dating trope
Word Count: 3,900+
ᯓ 💌 Message from yours truly: This might purely be to satisfy my own growing Formula 1 addiction, and also in celebration of race week! I should note that this is purely fictional, and as you would guess, none of the details are exactly accurate. Happy race week!
Masterlist | 📬 Requests open!
Atlantic Records, 1663 Broadway, New York
The room was silent, with only disappointed faces written across the media and PR team, and obviously, your manager sitting there with mere regrets of making the cut to book a huge stadium she knew you would struggle to sell out on. Headlines of this week? "Rockstar fails to sell out her first Wembley Stadium show in the UK, marking an epic failure for the star's first time in Europe".
It doesn't take anyone more than three collected brain cells to realise the rockstar in question was you, despite your name not being directly called out in the article, solely because you made friends with the media after handing them water while they waited outside a restaurant trying to take a picture of you and another male celebrity.
There was your answer sitting in your head — media.
In a world that moves on quickly, thanks to social media and short attention spans, a way to catch the public's attention was to create noise for your own self. Fake paparazzi shots, self-made rumours, and fake bots to stir up a conversation — that was all you needed to bring noise to your name and hopefully boost the sell-outs of your stadium tour, and bring a smile back to the team's faces.
Your proposal of creating fake rumours was taken happily by the team, as they saw it as one of the best contributions you have made this year, besides managing to bag them VIP seats to a Bruno Mars show because you both worked under the same label. Truth be told, you could be said to be one of the worst artists to be working for under Atlantics, not because you were mean or hard to work with, but simply because there was nothing about you that stood out to the public or the media in general.
You were always just that girl — not that girl as in the "it girl", but simply that girl to whom people remember having nice songs and a good voice. You were pretty, respectable within the industry, and always had something nice to say. And yet, nothing made people remember you, in fact, leading you to be titled "Atlantic's worst signed artist" by a random tabloid in Toronto.
Downtown Miami, Miami
Your media team had the "best weekend" chugging coffee in the office, trying to find you a stunt man to create dating rumours for, making sure that they were not controversial in any way or simply too expensive to hire.
Seeing your eyes lingering, scrolling through the endless posts regarding Formula 1 sparked an interest in your PR manager, Jennifer, who began researching the 20 drivers of the 2025 season. She thought it would be a smart move to pair you up with a Formula 1 driver, considering the constant heat of the event and simply how nosy the media always is with the personal lives of fellow Formula 1 drivers, especially those who have mysteriously chosen to remain single despite the majority of them being in longly committed relationships.
You never imagined yourself becoming an F1 WAG (a wife/girlfriend of a Formula 1 driver), and yet here you are sitting in a fine dining restaurant in downtown Miami across from Lee Seokmin — Mercedes' rookie of the 2025 season.
Your understanding of Formula 1 could be summarised in one sentence — twenty (you think?) cars racing around a track, or circuit as they call them? You can thank only the Ferrari radios for being so terrible, as the Ferrari radios are practically the only thing you really know about Formula 1, how it must be the water.
Speaking of water, you take a sip of water from your glass as Seokmin simply observes you from across the table. He is pretty much clueless about your lifestyle as well; in fact, you honestly wonder if he even knows you work as a rockstar.
Even the papparazzi sitting outside that Atlantic hired for you is shaking his head, watching the complete lack of chemistry you both have simply by judging the utter silence between you while couples and work parties all around you are dancing around within their own conversations about life and business.
This was going to be a long season, you thought to yourself.
FORMULA 1 MIAMI GRAND PRIX 2025
Over the weekend, Jennifer sat you down in your apartment and forced you to watch the past five rounds of Formula 1 races, before handing you a fact file that you considered thicker than the Oxford Dictionary. "This is all the information you need to know about Formula 1, and Seokmin as a person and driver as well," she explained, as you simply stared at the cover of the heavier than the guitar amp type of fact file she handed you — god, that's a good picture of Seokmin.
The Seokmin you remembered from your dinner date (date, if you could even call it one) was quiet, and in some way mysterious, but more so awkward. You both barely made much conversation, where you only leaned over to plant a soft kiss against his neck so that the papparazzi could head home early in time for dinner with his family. Despite the hassle, the tabloid came out with the hot gossip, "Formula 1 racer Lee Seokmin with his mysterious girlfriend, seemingly the rockstar opening in Wembley stadium?"
Again, the tabloid wouldn't remember to add in your name, but you still saw Ticketmaster seats to your stadium shifting towards that horrendous blue colour to one of grey, indicating that seats were beginning to sell out. Though, as you would rightfully guess, Twitter was filled with people attempting to buy seats that were situated near the box so they could potentially see Lee Seokmin sitting near them while he visited his girlfriend on tour.
You would honestly reply to the tweets saying that you haven't even asked if Seokmin was around the area during your stop in London, although you would be lying if you said you weren't happy about the seats finally starting to sell out.
A typical race week starts on Friday, when Formula 1 drivers enter the circuit for the first time and try out any modifications of the racing vehicle or personal skills they want to attempt this race.
Jennifer had only one instruction for you — to act as lovey-dovey as you can towards Seokmin in front of the cameras.
You visited the pit with only yourself, as you wore the Mercedes cap that Jennifer insisted you wear, paired with a tight black dress and ankle-high boots with heels. And in a pit that smelled like a mixture of sweat from different drivers and oil from all the car fuel spilling over slightly, you smelled refreshing with a soft scent of vanilla and wood that lingered as you walked past the road towards Mercedes' pit, leading other drivers to bat an eye at you. McLaren's Joshua shot you a wave, and you simply smiled back at him, knowing well your mission wasn't to impress other drivers, but only Seokmin.
You know from the hard study of your case file of Formula 1 and Seokmin that he liked taking breaks whilst other teams tried out during their practice rounds, so you simply caught him sitting right outside the knelling on the floor, playing with a white, fluffy Coton de Tulera. You simply walked over and knelt right next to him, to which he only smiled awkwardly and let go of his hand from the cute puppy, allowing you to pet her. "Your dog?" you asked, slightly confused, remembering that there was no mention of a pet dog within his thick case file. "No..." he chuckled slightly, watching your furrowed eyebrows, before continuing, "It's Coups' dog named Kkuma, he just joined us over the weekend". That, you know of. Coups, or Seungcheol, his fellow senior driver in Mercedes, is supposedly mentoring him for the 2025 Formula 1 season.
The next minute between the two of you is silent, with you paying your full attention to the adorable Kkuma in front of you, and Seokmin watching you pay your full attention to Seungcheol's dog. It was only a slight cough coming from Seungcheol that broke the peaceful moment, as he looked at you with a tilted head, seemingly confused as to why you, a random girl he had never met before, were now kneeling in Mercedes' pit next to Seokmin and petting his very adorable dog.
Seokmin took the opportunity and quickly jumped up to introduce you, a sudden shift in his demeanour from being calm and collected to one being excited. "Coups, this is my girlfriend, the one I told you about?" he spoke, as Seungcheol simply widened his eyes slightly, almost judging you by looking up and down. He laughed, though Seokmin didn't, before he exclaimed, "Oh, you're being serious? You actually have a girlfriend?"
You suppose your knowledge about Seokmin remained somewhat useful — from your case file, you know that he has never really entered the dating scene, both before and during his racing career. He was known by all the fellow drivers as being the one who was always off limits for girls, one who stuck to bothering the bartender for the entire night when everyone was getting to know everyone, simply to avoid the potential interactions with the opposite gender. All the drivers at one point questioned Seokmin's sexuality, or simply whether or not he had any romantic interest in general, though Seungcheol always just saw him as too focused on his career to have time to date. Seungcheol simply laughed at the situation, leaving an awkward Seokmin whose face turned partially red, as he led out words of wisdom, "They always say that drivers race better when their girlfriend is watching them, so..." he turned towards you, diverting his attention on you before finishing, "I would be here to watch Seokmin if I was you," and walking away.
After a quick few seconds, Seokmin turned towards you, only awkwardly scratching his head. He took a slight deep breath before quickly muttering out the words, "You... you don't have to be here this weekend, but... I will make time for you if you do," before rushing away with Seungcheol and both walking towards the track to sit inside the shiny black Mercedes cars.
A phone call disrupted your line of thought as your producer quickly rushed you to head back to the studio, as they were considering a track for you that needed quick decisions on bidding. In a hurry, you borrowed a sticky note and pen from the fellow engineers, before leaving a note on Seokmin's phone on his table, "Count me in this weekend," written with a heart drawn right next to it.
The very next day, you woke up to a Twitter thread filled with pictures of you playing around with Kkuma and even that sticky note you left for Seokmin — because apparently the man decided to soft launch the relationship by posting the note on his Instagram story, with the caption "I promise to make you proud,".
Mercedes' fans were somewhat over the moon. Moreso because they were looking forward to a better-than-ever race from Seokmin, considering that he had extra motivation since you were coming, and yet you knew none of this was real, only fantasy. You doubted that you being here would change the course of the race, nor the fact that Seokmin was actually going to try to make you proud. He had more than enough friends and family to prove himself towards, and you are pretty certain you'd be lucky to fit within the top 300 on that list filled with his loved ones and best mates.
The cameras clicked with flash under broad daylight as you stepped inside the VIP box with sunglasses over your head, a black t-shirt and a mini skirt combo sitting nicely on your body frame, and of course, the Mercedes racing jacket that Jennifer said Seokmin left for you in the mail a week before the race. Some might say this was the biggest attention you have yet to receive from the media, but who was to say you weren't enjoying this moment as you smartly blew a kiss against one of the cameras whose holder screamed your name loud and clear — a stark difference from the previous tabloids that always missed your name in every article, even when they were directed towards you.
Seungkwan, Seokmin's PR manager, poured you a glass of champagne and led you to the best viewing spot of the race — one where you could simply look down to watch the cars pass by the finishing line alongside the larger-than-life LED board that sits opposite you, where you could see the race through the digital lens. He quietly whispered against you, "I know you know nothing about Formula 1, but as long as you can spot Seokmin's car and scream when he overtakes another car or just does something cool, and clap and scream when you see that happen, that's all we need". You could only chuckle coldly at his explanation, though he wasn't entirely in the wrong, as you barely knew any tricks that could be pulled within the sport, and in fact, you questioned your ability to spot the difference between Seokmin and Seungcheol's cars later on in the race. Seungkwan then explained that Seokmin usually stays quiet and to himself on race day before he heads inside the car, so you respected his decision by remaining on the top floor of the VIP seating, standing next to a bunch of other celebrities and rich men who you could only assume invested in the sport and potentially the Mercedes brand.
You felt a strong presence near you as you turned around to find Seungcheol standing right next to you, also staring at the very track that you spent minutes zoning out on. He chuckled at your rookie fan behaviour before stating, "The track is immensely crazy when you see it in real life, right?" to which you nodded in agreement. There was a slight, silent moment between the two of you as you watched the horde of fans walking into the seats on the opposite side, with some already pointing their cameras at the interaction between you and Seungcheol, to which he waved, and you simply smiled awkwardly at them. "It's hard being a WAG, but then again, you have Seokmin. He's a great guy," Seungcheol expressed, as you simply stared down below to find Seokmin finally walking out of the pit to communicate with fellow engineers and radio station members. Seungcheol watched as your attention quickly diverted to Seokmin, as your eyes lit up differently seeing Seokmin, and simply laughed slightly at your reaction. He left without saying another word, leaving you alone, sipping on champagne, waiting for the intense race to begin.
In your defence, the Formula 1 highlights on YouTube make the races seem like they take only twenty minutes to complete, when in reality they take over one and a half hours to complete. Miami was a breezy location for a race, and perhaps a good track to watch as you enjoyed not needing to take an airplane to join the race.
You suppose it's not as much fun for the drivers, considering the rather hot weather that occurs in Miami, and also from your bare minimum understanding of Physics that they will sweat a lot during a race and come out a few kilograms lighter than before. Yet, the sea was full of red, green, orange and all sorts of colours with loud chants when the cars passed by, perhaps providing the drivers with all the motivation that they needed to push forward and complete the race with a good position.
Seungkwan stood next to you during the race, as you watched Seokmin's car alongside others passing by one by one in between laps. At one point, you simply lost count of how many laps had gone through by the incredible speed that everyone was driving upon, but then again, it's a race — a race in which everyone tries to push the limits of physics and their own personal records.
You watched intensely as the commentator read this as the final lap, deciding on who was about to place on the podium for Miami's grand prix. You watched intensely as the two Mercedes battled each other harshly, standing at P1 and P2, while the McLarens, Red Bulls and Ferraris followed behind, and others followed them as well. Seungkwan knows that you can't tell who is Seungcheol and who is Seokmin, and yet he doesn't really mind the thing — as much as he's #teamseokmin, any combination of P1 and P2 is a win for #teammercedes in the spirit of Formula 1 being a team sport.
And yet, for Seokmin, P1 mattered more than it ever did for him.
For a very long time, racing in Formula 1 was nothing more than a hobby for Seokmin. He remembered racing in go-karts when younger, before he was scouted by Mercedes' junior training team to join them for official training. Seokmin considered himself as not really working hard for any position — indeed, he tried, but he never risked his life for the car or for the team. If any car wanted to pass and he judged that it would be too risky to battle against them, he would let them pass by. And yet, weirdly enough, he always ended on the podium for the races of the 2025 season, whilst cars that passed him would mysteriously either crash or be disqualified later. Drivers call it the "Seokmin curse", to which no one has been interested in battling against, including that of Seungcheol.
Being in Mercedes for the past few years, Seungcheol has secured many wins in different Grand Prix locations. He has never worried much about winning, but has been more worried about whether or not Mercedes had enough space in their garage to keep his trophies. What differs between Seungcheol and Seokmin is that Seungcheol is genuinely ambitious, always trying harder and bending against the instructions from his radio to attempt to get a better position within the race. He embodied the spirit of Formula 1 — to push beyond the normal, and become better than previous record setters (though most of the race records were set by himself). And yet for once, Seungcheol seemingly relaxed in this very race after realising that he was in P2 position, with a large distance away from whoever was stuck in P3 and beyond, though the difference between him and Seokmin, who was in P1, was simply microscopic.
With Seungcheol's experience on the Miami track, he would be lying if he said he didn't already have twenty methods planned in his head on how to overthrow Seokmin. It was easy, a quick turn further down the line, or simply rushing up in the straight line that was to come afterwards would do the trick. And yet, Seungcheol refused to, and for once, he didn't want to take the risk.
Despite the words from cross-radio from Seokmin, who spoke, "Hyung, you can overtake me if you want to," Seungcheol simply chuckled softly at Seokmin's words. He knew how much this Miami race meant to Seokmin, not just because it would be Seokmin's first win in Miami, but also because he had a special someone to impress today. There was never a time when Seokmin spoke intensely to his engineers and radio team to make sure everything was working properly and well, when normally he simply just trusted the team to be doing well for him. And there was never a moment where Seokmin was genuinely nervous and pushing against fellow drivers and overtaking them fiercely to obtain a better pole decision, in which Seungcheol could hear from McLaren's radio as they spoke, "Maybe Seokmin has decided to take a more aggressive approach starting this race?".
Seungcheol knows it's not a strategy from Seokmin; it's a need to prove himself to his girl, standing at the VIP viewing spot, nervously watching as she tries to differentiate the two Mercedes from one another.
So near the end, Seungcheol begins slowing down, to which commentators are shocked and massively confused by. It's a strategy, in fact, a move, that no one in Formula 1 makes. But Seungcheol watched as Seokmin passed by the finishing line first, before he slowly sped up to secure his P2 position.
The cameras around the area quickly panned to watch your reaction, as you stared intensely into the track, still trying to differentiate which car passed by first, before Seungkwan nudged you — an indication for you to cheer because your boyfriend had won P1 and the Miami Grand Prix for the first time in his racing journey.
Generally, the driver gets out of the car and goes cheer with his fellow engineers and team members, and yet Seokmin simply rushed out of his car, running towards the VIP box.
Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me!
The audio played rightfully from the commentator's side as you watched a sweaty Seokmin running towards your direction, hugging you tightly. You still remember pushing away your fellow jock friends in high school after their football match because they stank, or simply not allowing anyone to touch you when you were in the high heat in Singapore's event. And yet, Seokmin was able to push your limits as you hugged him back tightly, as your green nails (specially painted in Mercedes' colour) scratched slightly against his racing jacket, and you watched as Seokmin smiled softly.
"I made you proud, right?" he asked softly, as you noticed all the cameras stuck up near all of you, and the fans from the opposite end capturing the loving moment between you and Seokmin. You stood confused, knowing fully well it was close to an act than anything, and yet, you were captivated by Seokmin. You stared into his eyes, but then his bright smile showed his pearly white teeth, and his hair slightly wet, dripping with hints of sweat from the intense sport, and the Mercedes' racing jacket that sat nicely against his body — the one that was heavily trained with muscles built in all the right areas.
Without thinking twice, you leaned over and planted a kiss against his soft lips, switching his smile to one of a working one of a French kiss. You felt Seokmin's body collapsing towards yours, as his lips, with an aftertaste of coffee from this morning, pressed heavily together with the effects of lip gloss you placed on moments before. The heart sitting in your chest thudded harshly as you felt Seokmin's harsh embrace, one that screamed possessiveness and pride as neither of you cared about the cameras and intense screaming from fans and audiences alike, only the present moment.
Google says that Formula 1 burns around 1,500 calories per race, and a kiss of a minute burns 6.4 calories. And still under the stark comparison of numbers, Seokmin would choose to continuously kiss you to burn those calories any time and any day.
Because, as he said, "The way you kissed me in front of everyone today, especially after my first Miami win... I'm not responsible for what happens next behind closed doors tonight," as he planted a soft kiss against your forehead, before rushing over to receive his podium trophies with Seungcheol.
And maybe for once, The Weeknd was wrong — one can pray for cars, but also pray for love, especially one from a Formula 1 driver as hot as Lee Seokmin.
