riri

꒰১ ໒꒱

[jiungbbl]

──── whatever will be, will be ⸝⸝ ݁˖

ᰔ a jiung smau series . ݁ ˖ ༄.° ⤷ idol!jiung x fangirl!reader ༉‧₊˚.

──── smau masterlist ⟡ next ʚɞ

⌗ humour, gay joke, sex jokes, mention of sa, suggestive language.

an: concert pics are mine (bragging)

Part 1 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) perm taglist: @simplyangelixa @jongseoul-main @x-odid @boptak @tylerdurdenlover911 @donutswjam @kkzldk @brownie0panda @fairystrength @theosflower @sfiakamo @seobattack @wwoonniiee @luv7uan @oned4eva @lucidity-on-earth @eiirazz @prettypinkyposts @strawbryy11 @stealthyutopiaabyss @wonipilled @shaycobain @mimleno @dukipukin @calicalan @raven-xoxo @literallyhakushota @marikit4labb @teasuree @huntdowwn @about2tnt @sofsdwaek @kamxstar @sweetasiandessert @nataliasdiary @lorena4piwon @hwrtoni @hardbeingcasual @yangiejungiewonie @keeh0 @nxyhdemc @saranghoeforanton @elmo9qpw @seobstars @stxrxyyz @vinniesslutt @nota10butadefinite8 @jiungsswife @tylerdurdenlover911

smau taglist at the reblog! ^_^

jiungbbl

[vivvangel]

I KNEW IT, I KNOW YOU — L.CY

synopsis: who knew a random doom scrolling session could lead you to find the love (?) of your life? lee anton definitely didn't.

› pairings & contents: lee anton of riize x soloist!reader

✧ warnings: the dates mentioned do not reflect real life whatsoever. anton is an overthinker, riize members tease anton, but that's about it. mostly in anton pov!

1 — 2.

april 3rd, 2026

anton wasn't supposed to be watching your vlog.

if anyone asked, he was supposed to be asleep, actually.

the clock beside his bed had already passed one in the morning, and tomorrow's schedule started early enough that even scrolling through social media felt like a bad idea. the dorm was unusually quiet for once. wonbin had disappeared into his room hours ago, sohee's gaming setup was finally silent, and anton had every intention of putting his phone down and getting at least six hours of sleep.

instead, he found himself staring at a twenty-minute vlog from a soloist he had never paid much attention to before.

it wasn't even intentional.

a clip from one of your videos had appeared on his twitter timeline while he was scrolling through fan updates. someone had reposted a funny moment where you were arguing with your manager about coffee.

— "three americanos isn't that bad."

— "yes, it is."

— "for who?"

— "for everyone around you."

the clip ended with you laughing so hard you nearly dropped your camera.

anton had smiled.

then clicked on the original video. that had been nearly an hour ago. now he was three vlogs deep.

most idol vlogs felt polished. carefully edited, including riize's own, he'll admit. everything cuts down to show only the best moments. but yours? yours weren't like that. or maybe they were, but they didn't feel like it. half the footage seemed completely random.

you forgetting your charger.

you accidentally ordering the wrong drink.

you getting lost inside a building you'd apparently visited dozens of times before.

there wasn't anything particularly special happening, and yet anton found himself watching until the very end.

when the video finally finished, youtube immediately recommended another one. he stared at the thumbnail, then clicked it.

just one more.

april 12th, 2026

it became a habit before he realized it was one. whenever a new vlog appeared, he watched it. whenever your company uploaded behind-the-scenes footage, he watched that too.

sometimes it happened after schedules, sometimes during dinner, sometimes at four in the morning when he should have been sleeping & had schedules at 8 AM.

at first he told himself it was because your content was entertaining. like, you were funny — you had the ability to make someone laugh till their stomach hurt, naturally, and to his defense, you're gorgeous too!

but then he decided it was because your videos were relaxing.

eventually he stopped trying to explain it altogether.

he simply looked forward to them.

one afternoon, anton was sitting in the practice room waiting for the others to finish changing when a notification appeared on his phone.

a new vlog uploaded.

YouTube • 2m ago

Y/N'S DIGITAL DIARY

"come get iced coffee w me & talk about nothing & everything! 𖤐"

& his thumb moved before his brain could stop it.

"what are you smiling at?"

anton nearly dropped his phone. sohee sat down beside him, immediately suspicious.

"nothing."

"that's definitely not nothing."

"it's just youtube—."

"whose video?"

anton locked his screen, which, unfortunately, was the worst possible response.

sohee's eyes widened.

"oh."

"what?"

"oh my god."

"what?"

"there's someone."

"there is not."

"there is."

"there isn't."

sohee looked delighted, which was a problem, because the second sohee knew something, everybody knew something.

sure enough, less than five minutes later, anton walked into a room filled with grinning faces.

"hmm i heard our anton has a crush." sungchan teased.

"i don't, hyung! i was just watching youtube before sohee ran w his loud mouth!"

"you do."

"i don't."

"who is she?"

"there's no she, why did you guys assume i was watching a girl's video?!"

wonbin looked up from his phone, with the teasing grin on his face (that briize love)

"there's definitely a she."

anton considered leaving the practice room entirely.

the truth was, he wasn't even sure if it counted as a crush yet. you were still mostly a person on a screen. someone he'd never properly met, someone he only knew through edited videos and short clips, but somehow he'd started noticing little things.

the way you switched between english and korean without thinking.

the way you always thanked staff members, even in subtle moments.

the way your smile changed when something genuinely surprised you.

small things.

ridiculous things.

the kind of details people only noticed when they were paying far too much attention...

and anton was definitely paying too much attention.

april 21st, 2026

the first time he saw you in person felt strangely disappointing. backstage at some mnet thing.

not because you weren't pretty— if anything, you were prettier. fuck, you took his breath away. not because you weren't nice. he hadn't spoken to you long enough to know.

it was disappointing because he suddenly realized how little he actually knew you.

anton was walking through the backstage hallways at music bank when he spotted you.

for a moment he almost didn't recognize you. there was no vlog camera, or your phone in sight.

definitely no cheerful editing, subtitles & background music.

you just looked . . . tired.

your manager was talking about schedule changes while you listened quietly, nodding every few seconds. you weren't laughing. you were just... working. just another idol trying to survive a busy, brutally scheduled day.

something about that realization made his stomach twist. because in all honesty, for weeks, he'd felt like he knew you.

not completely, but enough.

and now, standing twenty feet away, he understood how ridiculous that was.

he didn't know you at all.

he knew videos, he knew edited moments, he knew what you or your company had chosen to show. nothing more.

as if sensing his stare, you glanced up. your eyes met briefly, anton immediately looked away, then mentally kicked himself. when he looked back, you were already approaching.

you stopped a few feet away and offered a polite bow.

"hello, sunbaenim! i'm a big fan of riize!,"your voice sounded exactly the same as it did in your videos. you gave him a smile, the same one you gave to your staff, your fans.

for some reason, that only made him more nervous.

"hello, Y/N-nim,"

smooth. very smooth. awkward, yes, but hopefully smooth? he sounded like he'd forgotten every language he'd ever learned.

thankfully, you smiled again. a small one, but a smile nonetheless. it was friendly. then continued down the hallway, after another polite bow, and anton bowed back.

the interaction lasted maybe three seconds, okay, maybe five.

but anton thought about it for the rest of the week.

may 9th, 2026

your first actual conversation with lee anton happened because of coffee, which felt fitting. anton was waiting in line between rehearsals when he heard a familiar voice nearby.

"i'm serious."

english.

your voice.

— "if i drink another americano this week, i'm pretty sure i'll achieve enlightenment."

anton laughed before he could stop himself.

you turned, recognition immediately crossing your face.

— "you heard that?"

"kind of hard not to."

you glanced down at the iced americano in your hand, then back at him.

"...okay, that's fair."

he laughed again. and suddenly, somehow, talking wasn't difficult anymore.

conversation flowed naturally. honestly, both of you speaking english made it easier, somehow. it was comfortable, familiar, even.

you asked about schedules & lollapalooza. he asked about promotions. one conversation became another, then another, and before anton realized it, the version of you he'd built from months of watching videos had slowly started being replaced by the real thing.

the real you laughed less often than vlog-you, if that makes sense. but when you did laugh, it felt more genuine. the real you got annoyed when you were hungry, which is very valid, the real you complained about schedules, the real you wasn't always cheerful, wasn't always polished.

and shit, he liked that too. truly, anton liked that version far more.

he liked every version of you. the one you were on stage, the one you were in your vlogs and definitely the one you were in real life.

well, fuck.

june 2nd, 2026

the kpop festival in osaka had finally ended. the crowd was gone, it was past 12 AM, the noise had faded. for the first time all day, everything felt quiet. weeks ago, when the lineup was announced and anton saw your name — he knew he had to get closer to you. in whatever way he could.

the universe seemed to be in favor of him.

anton sat beside you backstage while staff rushed around preparing for departure, neither of you had spoken much during the last few minutes.

you looked exhausted, so did he, but neither of you seemed particularly eager to move. your shoulder brushed his, very lightly, accidentally. you should've pulled away when you felt that little friction but neither of you pulled away. anton stared ahead for a moment before glancing sideways, you were already looking at him.

something shifted

it was subtle but impossible to ignore.

the air suddenly felt different, he couldn't explain it, he felt like a crazy person— maybe it was because the two of you had been spending more time together lately. texting & calling counts as spending time, no? you two sent each other memes & tiktoks back and forth, that must count. or maybe it was because your conversations lasted longer now.

or maybe it was because somewhere between random texts and shared coffees and late-night phone calls, anton had stopped pretending this was just a harmless crush.

whatever the reason, looking away suddenly felt impossible.

you smiled first. you were tired but your smile was soft, and oh so fucking beautiful. anton's heart immediately betrayed him. he smiled back at you, his eyes basically pouring with love— love?! whatever!

neither of you said anything, you didn't need to. the silence felt louder than any conversation you'd ever had, and when your gaze dropped briefly to his lips before returning to his eyes, anton forgot what he'd been about to say entirely.

your shoulder remained pressed against his. somewhere in the distance, staff members were calling out instructions, you heard your own manager's voice faintly too. but ofcourse, neither of you paid attention. all anton could think about was how close you were & how easy it would be to close the distance completely.

and judging by the way your breath caught, you were thinking the exact same thing.

"anton." your voice was barely above a whisper, you couldn't help it.

"yeah?"

you opened your mouth.

paused.

then laughed softly.

"nothing."

he didn't believe you, not for a second, but he smiled anyway. for once, he didn't think he needed the answer

not yet, there would be time for that later. hopefully.

and as you continued looking at him like that, neither of you making any effort to look away, anton found himself wondering if maybe this could be something more, something real, anytime soon.

💌 viv's note: sorry for the cliffhanger mwah 🤍🧚‍♀️

[yangjwz]

NOT ME ✴︎ starring all enhypen members

( 일곱 ) 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆 ◞

･ ༝ ･ 𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗒𝗉𝗌𝖾, 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾(?), 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾, , 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 9

masterlist

(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) a/n riki me asf as fuck

[jiungbbl]

── happy trail, happy meal ⸝⸝ ݁˖ 지웅

⤷ bestfriend!jiung x brat!reader ༉‧₊˚. ─────── (2.0k)

˚₊‧꒰ა a couple of shots in are enough for you to start wondering how far your bestfriend's body hair goes. ˙ . ꒷

⌗ nsfw, dom!jiung, oral (m. rec), semi-public, slightly praise kink, cum swallowing, facial cum, dirty talk, face fucking, jiung has a bush, alcohol consumption, mentions of throwing up, p1harmony cameo.

𑣲⋆ (kinda) requested by: @mydearandy .✦ ݁˖

Given your well-known low tolerance for alcohol, you would have done your best to avoid drinking even a single drop that night. But how could you have avoided it? When Keeho teased you for being a wimp and Intak practically shoved the bottle of tequila down your throat, saying it would “make it more fun”.

And while it might have actually been more fun for them, you had your head in the clouds. More specifically, you were fixated on the way Jiung’s boxers peaked every time he stretched to grab something from the coffee table.

You wouldn’t be worried if it were just his underwear peeking out every now and then; the problem was the nagging doubt that had been bugging you ever since you noticed that perfectly irritating line of fine hair below his belly button.

As much as you love all your friends equally and spend almost every weekend at one of your places, Jiung holds a special place in your heart. You grew up together, and he’s seen you at your most vulnerable, so looking at him with desire left you feeling confused.

You tried to force yourself to stop looking, to stop wondering if the hair continued and what it would be like down there, but you just couldn’t. It was as if a magnetic field were forcing you to stare at his pants every time he moved even slightly. All you could hope for was that everyone around you was drunk or tipsy enough not to notice how blatantly you were staring at your best friend.

Luckily for you — and unfortunately for Jongseob, who were eating more than anyone — Jiung announced that all the snacks on the table were gone, causing an imaginary lightbulb to go off above your head with an idea that wouldn’t have occurred if you were sober:

“I’ll help you grab more,” you spoke up as you were already getting up, a little unsteadily, leaving him no choice but to accept your help.

The others didn't seem to mind; they were too engrossed in talking about whatever it was. Jiung, on the other hand, followed you in silence down the hallway leading to the kitchen. “You are such a weak drinker. Can barely walk.”

You gave off every sign of annoyance, even with your back turned: clicked your tongue, shrugged, and rolled your eyes. He was so intriguing, but just as annoying as ever.

Halfway down the short hallway, you find yourself passing by the main bathroom, not thinking twice before pulling the boy behind you into the room and closing the door.

“What are you doing?! Gonna throw up?” Despite the obvious mocking tone, you could sense a hint of concern. You weren't such a lightweight that you'd throw up after just a few shots.

Not knowing how to say “I want to see your dick,” in a way that wouldn't scare him or embarrass you for the rest of your life, you decided to just grab Jiung’s face and press your lips against his, eventually pushing him up against the door.

His reaction was almost immediate and unexpected: he kissed you back. His hands quickly found their way to the back of your neck, leaving you at his mercy as he took control of the kiss. His lips were, as expected, soft thanks to his daily skincare routine, and deep down you could taste the bitter flavor of the absinthe you’d refused to drink.

Both of your breaths were ragged and desperate, as if you were willing to practically suffocate if it meant you could practically devour each other.

“I've wanted to do this for so long,” he said, breaking the kiss to rest your foreheads together. "Seriously.”

“Then why haven't you?”

“For the same reason you dated that jerk,” and your eyes widened. You knew he didn't like your ex — but jealousy? You just bit your lip to hold back an excited smile.

“And why did you do that?” Jiung looked you up and down, making it clear what he meant by his question, still holding onto your head as if you were going to run away.

“It’s stupid,” you took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at his face. “Your happy trail made me wonder…”

Jiung raised his eyebrows in surprise at your answer. He couldn’t help but laugh at your silly confession, causing you to look back at him in astonishment. “Wonder what?”

His hands began to slide dangerously down to your shoulders, then brushed innocently against your breasts before finally coming to rest on your waist, gripping you tightly.

“What are you like down there,” a quick answer, without further ado. Alcohol is really dangerous.

You felt him grip your waist and his gaze drift down to your revealing cleavage. “You have no idea how many times I've wanted to know what you look like down here. But you didn't see me going around grabbing you in the hallway.”

He really couldn't change his attitude, but you were horny enough to let him do whatever he wanted with you. “Check it out then.”

“Let's put your mouth to a better use,” you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the situation, but Jiung’s rosy cheeks were a sight you hoped would be etched in your memory forever. With that, he moved his right hand to the top of your head and pushed you toward the floor, making you kneel in front of him without much effort.

“Now you check it out,” he smirked as he gently ran his fingers through your completely messy hair. As much as you wanted to tease him back, you were desperate to see your best friend’s cock. Without breaking eye contact, you unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, finally breaking the intense eye contact to slightly lift his shirt and get a close look at what had led you to this situation.

Not only did his happy trail fascinate you, but the three butterflies drawn to the right of it took your breath away. “You’re so pretty, Ji,” you could feel his body react to the compliment as you took your hand to drag it along his lower abdomen.

“Hurry up,” a gentle tug on your hair made you turn your attention to his face. “The others will miss us.”

“Let them,” even though you wanted to take your time with him, he was right. So you hurried to pull his pants down to his ankles, blessed with the sight of his erection screaming for attention inside his boxers. “But it would be cool if they watched it... it's quite a sight.”

You could feel Jiung’s tension and urgency as your head was pushed right up against his bulge. You could feel just how hot and hard your best friend was, even through the single layer of fabric covering it, which made you rub your thighs together in anticipation.

“Do you want me to help you? Fucking hurry up,” he thrust his hips forward to rub his covered member against your face, seeking any kind of self-relief.

“Maybe if you asked more politely…” You could have sworn he whispered that you’re a bitch, but you were too distracted by something else to care in the slightest: Jiung taking off his boxers right in front of you

It was better than you could've asked for: he was surprisingly bigger than you expected, and you couldn’t help but notice that the color of its tip matched the color of his lips. But what caught your attention most was his bush. You didn’t expect someone as meticulous as Jiung to let the hairs go untrimmed.

“Ji, it's so pretty,” instinctively, you grabbed his cock in your hand and began to slowly stroke it, admiring the way the pre-cum pooled on the tip. “Fuck, so pretty.”

The alcohol had completely taken over your body by this point, because there was no way you could have been that brave on your own. But it was worth it when you looked up and saw Jiung looking right back at you, clearly holding back any sound that might escape his mouth.

But that wasn't what you wanted.

With that in mind, you leaned in and took as much of his dick into your mouth as you could handle, drawing a scream from him loud enough to make him cover his mouth.

You smiled at your conquest and kept pushing it all the way down your throat, not caring about the lack of air or the uncomfortable sensation.

Since he wasn’t pushing your head anymore, you pulled your mouth away from him and went back to jerk him off, looking at him with the most innocent expression you could muster at that moment.

“You taste so good too, you know? Wish I had you earlier,” you moistened your lips before leaning in and scattering gentle kisses along his length, never once breaking eye contact — you couldn’t bear to take your eyes off a completely flushed and utterly flustered Jiung. “Bet it would fill me up so well. Bet you'd fuck me so well…”

You didn't give him a chance to answer, because you were already taking him into your mouth once again. And that's how you kept going: bobbing your head up and down his dick and reveling in his struggle to hold back his moans.

The sight was obscene: Jiung, with his head thrown back, eyes closed, mouth open, flushed face, and a bit of sweat forming on his neck. You couldn't help but let out a moan, sending shivers down his length that made him pull away.

As you tried to catch her breath, you looked at him, confused, trying to figure out if you had done something wrong.

“Don't wanna cum yet. Wait a sec’,” As you wiped the drool from around your mouth, you chuckled to yourself at your best friend’s lack of self-control.

“And I’m the weak one?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you knew that Jiung hated being teased and enjoyed annoying him every day, but you’d never seen that look on his face before. By the time you realized it, he was already guiding his cock into your mouth again, this time grabbing your hair so tightly that your scalp started to hurt.

All you could do while he fucked your mouth was moan. The only relief you felt was digging your nails into his thighs as he ravaged your throat.

“I’m the best dick you'll ever take. ‘m still gonna fuck you so much- fuck- fuck you dumb,” his other hand joined the one already on your head for extra support. His hip movements became more frantic, leading you to believe he was about to cum.

And all you could do was take. Staring at his face, which was contorted with pure lust, you waited until he had released almost everything into your mouth; what was left ended up all over your face.

He came so beautifully, too — the broken moan and the furrowed brows as he jerked off to milk every single drop onto your face.

“Someone was waiting for this day”, you mocked as you used your thumb to wipe away a trace of his cum that was tickling your cheek, immediately bringing it to your mouth.

“I was serious. I still wanna fuck you,” he said in the most serious tone he could manage as he pulled up his pants and buttoned them, helping you up from the floor right after.

As you stared at each other, a deafening silence fell over the bathroom, making you feel awkward and prompting you to sneak over to open the door. “Let's just go,”

When both of you arrived at the living room — hands empty — everyone was staring at you. A wave of embarrassment washed over you, and your body immediately grew hot: your hair was still a mess, and some of your makeup had completely smudged.

On the other side, Jiung just moved to sit down where he originally was, not even bothering to explain the absence of snacks.

“I threw up,” you quickly stated, looking at your friends’ faces to check if they bought it.

“Right,” Taeyang started unbothered, “and that's not cum on your chin.”

Not only your eyes, but Jiung’s eyes widened too. Embarrassed, you quickly wiped your chin and rubbed your hand on your top. Not knowing where to hide, you just went back to the bathroom while you could hear Keeho complaining about people fucking in his bathroom.

(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) perm taglist: @simplyangelixa @literaleftist @x-odid @boptak @tylerdurdenlover911 @donutswjam @kkzldk @brownie0panda @fairystrength @theosflower @sfiakamo @seobattack @wwoonniiee @luv7uan @oned4eva @lucidity-on-earth @eiirazz @prettypinkyposts @strawbryy11 @stealthyutopiaabyss @wonipilled @shaycobain @mimleno @dukipukin @calicalan @raven-xoxo @literallyhakushota @marikit4labb @teasuree @huntdowwn @about2tnt @sofsdwaek @kamxstar @sweetasiandessert @nataliasdiary @lorena4piwon @hwrtoni @hardbeingcasual @yangiejungiewonie @keeh0 @nxyhdemc @saranghoeforanton @elmo9qpw @seobstars @stxrxyyz @vinniesslutt @nota10butadefinite8 @jiungsswife @tylerdurdenlover911

click here if you wanna join my taglist :3

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated (o^^o)

jiungbbl

[nolabelspart02s]

[260524] weverse dm 🐰

[kgvs]

ANTON 'II' Trailer : Still Dreaming

[hooninisms]

𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄 - park sunghoon

masterlist…

series summary: in which riki tries to put you on with his friend sunghoon, of course failing to mention that they’re centuries old vampires.

00: profiles/introduction

01: he’s a 10 but…

02: lock tf in bro

…more to be added!!

[jiungbbl]

fuck my pornstar body

an intak smau seriesִֶָ ࿐

⤷ synopsis ᯓ when your daily dose of doom scrolling on twitter accidentally leads to you liking a random porn video from a — not so random anymore — guy.

⌗ nsfw (MDNI)

an: literally felt the urge to write some series after reading @jongseoul's smaus... idk how this will work but i will try dramatically looks up to the sky... show some mercy comment something even if its idk 67

PROFILES

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

PART 6

PART 7

PART 8

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ taglist: @mydearandy @simplyangelixa @literaleftist @x-odid

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

jiungbbl

[yoonminirl]

╔.★. .════════╗

𝙋𝙍𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙔 𝙂𝙄𝙍𝙇 - 𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘪

╚═════════════. .★.╝

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 : 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘵!𝘯𝘪𝘬𝘪 𝘹 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 : 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘤𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴/𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 : 𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 (𝘮𝘥𝘯𝘪), 𝘨𝘶𝘯 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨 𝘶𝘴𝘦/𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯/𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘦𝘵𝘤.

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 !

𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘴 : 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘢𝘥.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 : 8.1k

𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 : Ⅸ

masterlist

𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 ! 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 ฅ^>⩊<^ ฅ

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

eventually life got to a point where the trees sat naked in front of you as you passed them. the leaves on the ground ended up soiled and hidden from the ice and snow covering the ground. the gloom of the sky even mid-day was more chilling than the crisp cold of the air nipping at your nose as the wind hit you in the face the moment you stepped outside. winter wasn’t you favorite season, but the beauty of the lights and decorative trimming around town always managed to put you in the christmas spirit.

it was only a few days until 2027 dawned upon the society you know of currently. the break between your fall and spring semester finally came about. you passed your classes my a sliver of luck, and now you had a month of quiet fun with your friends ahead of you.

sunoo finally found an apartment in the area, a good middle point between you and his university. commuting was still a factor on the table, but it was something he would figure out when your break came closer to its close. a few days prior to the current moment, your little found family decided to host the christmas gift exchange at sunoo’s new apartment. it was a sweet house warming, but fitting everyone in the house was a tight squeeze.

“okay okay, everyone needs to find a seat and stay in it. there’s 9 of us and i definitely didn’t think i would lack so much space.” sunoo laughs, getting comfortable on the sofa next to sunghoon. sunghoon smiles, putting his arm around his waist, sunoo leaning into his frame as he sat.

the group all sat somewhere around sunoo’s pretty light pink christmas tree, the ornaments and lights shined a silver lighting surrounding the pink branches. each of you wearing the silly grinch pajamas jake got for you, making sure each and every one of you had a onesie to match with the rest.

riki laid flat on his back on the floor next to the tree with his head on your kneeling lap. his phone hovered over his face in his hands, his eyes glued to his screen for at least 20 minutes now. you look down at him, quickly taking his phone from his hand and dropping it down the next of your onesies, pulling the hood down and bit-being none of you had pockets. “off your phone. it’s family time.” you say.

riki sat up quickly, turning his head to face you with his eyebrows furrowed and a pout on his face. “hey what the fuck?!” he says. “you can have it back later. watch jake open his gift.” you say.

“pigs will fly the day i give a shit about jake’s gift.” riki says, crossing his arms and laying his head where it originally sat. “rude.” jake rolls his eyes, as heeseung comes back into the living room with a large box. “okay, it’s not heavy, but you have to be gentle with it. extremely gentle. and it’s yours, but it’s staying with me until you get your own place.” he says, placing the wrapped box in front of jake.

“wait, why?” jake asks, starting to slow upwrap the box. “well, you’ve wanted one of these since you were a kid. your parents always told you no because you were irresponsible, and well, you are. but! i saw this one and immediately know you had to have it. she reminded me of you. so, i got her and hid her from your somehow for a week.” heeseung says. “her?” jake asks.

before heeseung can open his mouth to respond, a small noise comes from the box. a whine, and a bark, changing the look on jake’s face from confusion to awe. “no way. no way!” he says, immediately ripping the lid off the box.

second later, a small puppy with blonde and white fur popped up from the bottom, paws sitting on the ledge and her tongue hanging from her mouth. her left ear pointed upright as the left one hung over itself.

the whole group broke out into gasps and an array of “awe’s” upon seeing her. jake’s eyes welled in tears as he looked okay at heeseung, who smiled. “merry christmas.” heeseung said. “i love you so much. and i love her too.” jake said, quickly wiping his eyes and taking the puppy from the box. she sat in his lap, one of his arms petting her back and the other under her chin.

“i stopped at the shelter to blow of some steam after i mad a few plays last week. i figured playing with puppies could cool me off after dealing with druggies for hours. i saw her and couldn’t resist.” heeseung says, his hand finding her head to scratch it. “her name is layla. but you can call her whatever you want.”

“no, i like layla. she’s layla, layla is great.” jake says, unable to shift the pout on his face as he rested his cheek on her head over heeseung’s hand. “this is the best gift ever bambi. you’re really my best friend.”

heeseung watches jake in admiration, the smol never leaving his face. he moves his hand to jake’s face, rubbing the back of his hand against his upward facing cheek for a moment before pulling back and fixing his posture. “i love you too man. but you really have to find an apartment now. she needs a forever home.” he says. jake nods. “i will. i don’t wanna have to leave her at anyone else house. i love her. and i appreciate you doing this for me.” he says.

“hey that’s not fair, sunghoon got me socks and underwear. where’s my puppy?” riki jokes. “i should’ve gotten your ass coal.” sunghoon rolls his eyes. the room laughs. “riki, you have enough animals.” jungwon says. “bruh, not anymore. they all died.” riki says.

“good lord, not only does he kill people he kills animals too.” lara says. riki sat up quickly, turning back to face her. “no. don’t say that. that’s not funny.” he says, his tone flat and no longer silly as it was before. the space is silent for a second, before lara decides to be the bigger person to save the mood. “i’m sorry. i was just joking.”

“it’s alright just, don’t say things like that. i don’t mean to kill the vibe. it was just a little too far. just people. never animals.” riki says, taking a deep breath before resting his head back on your thighs. you look down at him, nodding comfortingly as you push the hair from his face. you weren’t sure why that triggered him how it did, but you knew you didn’t want him to get bent out of shape over it after things were just so nice.

“okay, i wanna give my gift to sunoo now.” sunghoon said, shifting back to the content state that you all had prior established. he quickly stands from his seat, going under the tree and getting the small bag from under the tree and sitting back next to him. “it’s small but, i hope you’ll like anyway.”

sunoo pulls the tissue paper from the bag, seeing the card and the small, black rectangular box at the bottom of the bottom. he quickly takes it out, opening the box to see a sparkly diamond ring attached to a gold band. next to it, a gold necklace with a round circular charm with a heart engraved on the front of it.

“sunghoon, this is so pretty.” the smile, soft on his face. “i love it. it must’ve been so expensive.” he says. sunghoon starts to take the necklace from the box, handing it to sunoo’s free hand. “it was. and it’s even better when you look in the locket.” he says.

“it’s a locket?” sunoo slips his nail into the latch, popping the circle open. inside the right side was a picture of himself and sunghoon, their chests pressed close against each other. sunoo’s arms wrapped over sunghoon’s neck, with sunghoon’s draped over his wait. he leaned his head onto sunoo’s, who’s was sweetly buried in the crook of his neck, turned back to face the camera taking the photo. in the photo, sunghoon wore a brown cowboy hat to match his yellow plaid shirt and cow printed vest. sunoo wore a white long sleeve with a yellow printing across his shoulders and on the cuffs of his wrists. his red hand hung down his back from around his neck. on the left door of the locker, a yellow sun was engraved, the words, “my sunshine” within it. they both smiled so brightly, their expressions as if they had never been so happy in their lives.

sunoo looks toward him sunghoon soft eyes with a frown. “it’s from our first date. you took me to see the toy story movie.” he says. “i love toy story.” his voice breaks a bit. sunghoon smiles, bringing his hand to his back. “you should read the car. it’s a little personal but, i want everyone to be able to hear it anyway.”

sunoo puts the necklace in his lap, taking the card from the envelop. the front of the card consisted of a christmas tree, a few hearts in the surrounding area. he opened it to see no automated message like a typical card, just a small paragraph in sunghoon’s hand writing.

“to my sunshine. merry christmas. i know it’s only been a few months, but i find that the last few months with you have made my life easier and have more important, made me a better person. i never thought i’d be able to openly be who i was before i met you. i kinda accepted i’d be the same typical DL you’d find in our environment. but you changed my entire mentality on being myself, and have made me want to openly be who i am no matter what. that being said, i have a very important question for you, and i hope you’ll say yes. with all the love in my heart, sunghoon.” sunoo reads, his eyes trailing back to the box as he closes the card, seeing the ring removed from the box.

he looks back over at sunghoon, who’s body is faced fully toward him, ring in hand. “may i be your boyfriend?” he asks softly, the smile on his face gentle.

sunoo immediately breaks his neck to look in your direction, both your faces fully ecstatic. a few seconds later, he turns back to sunghoon nodding. “i thought you’d never ask!” he says, throwing himself at sunghoon, giving him a tight hug. sunghoon laughs, hugging him back for a moment before sliding the ring on his finger and kissing him on his cheek.

“that may have just been cuter than the puppy.” jungwon says. “sunghoon serenade me next.” riki laughs. you look at sunoo with a smile, seeing him giggly and joyful as sunghoon brings the necklace around his neck. you know you’re happy for your friend, you know he deserves this more than anything, but you can’t help but feel a pit in your stomach a bit.

you look down at riki for a moment. his head turned to face jungwon, them bantering and laughing with one another from afar of one another. you can’t help but feel a little sad. your heart is a little sad. the sweet moment made you wish riki was a bit more like his older brother when it came to the romantics, but at the end of the day, you weren’t his girlfriend, and you knew he wasn’t obligated to do things for you like that.

the memory was a sweet one. seeing everyone get each other nice things, seeing how truly invested each of you were in your friendships-it gave you a little more faith in humanity.

it wasn’t anything people had realized yet, but layla was so genuinely important to jake. even in just the few days of having her, he couldn’t be spotted without her. he brought her everywhere, shared his meals with her, he even cleaned out his entire back seat and dressed it with bedding and stuffed animals just for her. he didn’t care that no one else could sit back there during his rides. he just cared that she was comfortable.

he needed her, more than ever. after months of arguing and back and fourths, manon finally cut him off again. he was broken and lost. he knew this time, chances were high of it being fully over between them. heeseung knew about all of it. he knew his friend needed something, someone, even if it was just a dog. but to jake, layla wasn’t just a dog. she was his everything.

you haven’t spoken to manon much since the break up in november. you check in every now and then, but she just seems uninterested in your friendships. it’s like she knows you’re close with jake, and is doing everything she can to get rid of him as a whole, even if it means removing you from her life. lara was a big similar. she was a bit distant, not as bad as manon, but clearly she was trying to hold a respect for her friend. you expect none the less from her. she’s always been a girls girl, and she’s never liked jake. still, she came to the group events, and played very cordial when he was in the room. at the end of the day, it wasn’t her relationship to worry about.

as

for your own relationship, if you even dared to call it that, your secret surprisingly stayed a secret. nothing truly changed since the end of summer. riki presented himself at your door, night after night, his intentions clearer than the sky above you. it didn’t bother you. you were okay with being nothing more than friends who had sex. besides, riki was a headache. he slept on top of you when half the room was available, he always wanted to argue over something stupid and overall he was just a delinquent. you could never find love in your heart for someone who acted like him.

of course, you did your best to keep it from sunghoon. you still kept it from everyone. you were a bit embarrassed to still be sleeping with riki after all. you didn’t want the whole world to know you liked criminal cock. you were a good girl, imagine getting caught up in bed with… him.

speaking of the devil, riki laid draped across your sofa, his phone on front of him as the tv played soft noises and conversation in the back. you stood at the sink, cleaning off the dishes from the chinese take out the two of you got not too long ago. suddenly, you hear riki shuffle around the couch, turning your head a bit to see him talking toward you.

“jay has a gig this weekend in harlem. what are we thinking?” he says, leaning over the counter as he points his phone at you. on the screen, a flyer with jay plastered on the front with some his boys. a music gig at the harlem holiday festival. your eyes scanned from left to right, seeing the 6 members of the group, to your surprise not knowing any of them, until your eyes met jay. his red guitar visible with the string slung over his shoulder, his typical leather jacket with the white button down and jeans. you’ve seen it a million times. but for some reason, it had a different shine to it.

at the top of the poster, in bold letters read the word, “ENHYPEN.” the rest of the acts in small letters bellow, each spaced out decently from one another. jay’s group was headlining the festival.

“they’re headlining? didn’t they just lose a guy..?” you start. “yeah. but the show must go on i guess.” riki shrugs, looking at the poster before clicking the off button on his phone and facing down on the counter. “i feel bad for them. that’s a pretty big event in the city. it’s gotta suck to not be able to headline it with your friend. i can’t imagine how the lost member feels.” you say. “well i don’t know how he feels but i know jay feels like shit. it would be nice of us to go support him.” riki says.

you raise and eyebrow with a smirk, leaning your left hand on the counter while turning to face riki. “what does nishimura riki know about being nice?” you tease, poking him with sarcasm. “don’t be a smartass. i’m not awful all the time. seriously though, what’s the move? i think we should go.” riki rolls his eyes before speaking. “we can go. but we’re leaving as soon as jay’s group finishes. i’m not staying to watch anyone else’s sets. it’s not like i know any of those guys anyway.” you say, walking toward the couch.

you drop down into your comfortable spot as your next sentence comes out. “some guy named jimin was on there. who even is that?” you ask. riki slowly makes his way over to you, leaning his upper body and arms on the arm rest. he raises his knees, kicking his feet trying to keep his balance like a kid trying to show you a trick. “a guy from this bts group. the rest of them are in military service so he’s gonna be on his own.” he says, his eyes looking up at you through his eyebrows.

“well bts sounds kinda stupid. and cut that out before you hurt yourself” you snark. “well so does enhypen.” riki says, moving off the arm rest and seating himself across from you on the couch. “it does. but jay is in enhypen and he’s talented so i’ll let it slide. i think all boy groups are stupid anyways though.” you say.

“yeah, like why are you, as a man, singing and dancing in tight ass pants? there’s gotta be some kinda catch or benefit.” riki says. “money. and probably women.” you shrug. “they are definitely not pulling women wearing skinny jeans like that. they better not put jay in some gay ass pants either.” riki laughs. you smile and roll your eyes.

“you just hate skinny jeans.” you say. “uh, yeah. that’s how you spot a gay man from a mile away. wear what you want, just not skinny jeans. i’m shocked your friend doesn’t own pants like that.” riki says. “he’s a man of class.” you nod. “i think he’d run from anyone wearing skinny jeans.”

the week passes at the speed of light, and you find yourself bundled up from head to toe, icy air nipping at your nose as you stand against the barricade of the stage. riki managed to get you guys a good spot to watch the show, telling all the security about how he’s jay’s little ex-convict. you were able to get in early and skip the barricade rush. it was almost too perfect.

riki stood next to you, leaning on the barricade in front of him, staring at the lights, the big screen and the stage ahead of the both of you. his arms rested on the gates bar, gloved hands hanging down a bit as his body tilted forward on his feet. “he doesn’t know we’re here.” he says, his eyes not parting from the sight in front of him. you turn your head to look at him before you speak. “you didn’t tell him?” you ask. riki shakes his head before turning it to face you. “he doesn’t have anyone at these shows for him. i figured it would be a nice surprise.” he says. “he usually just leaves as soon as they get done with the music and the pictures. his bandmates always have friends and family to come and congratulate them, so he gets out of here before he has to deal with the contrast that brings.”

“coming here was a good idea then.” you agree. “yeah. i promised him when i got out i’d come to as many of these as possible. this is the first one i finally had time for. i also didn’t wanna come alone so,” riki says. “well i’m sure even if you did come alone it would mean the world to him.” you reassure him. riki shrugs. “the more the merrier. besides, live music is always a good date.” he says, turning his head back to the stage. you smile and shake your head.

before you know it, the crowd moves in around you, and the show starts. the lights on the stage dim and change colors as the screen starts to shift and the dancers crowd the stage. “dancers? i thought they were a traditional band.” you start. suddenly, a name shows on the screen and music starts, as someone rises from the center. “how’s everyone doing tonight?!” the voice speaks. the crowd cheers before the male speaks again. “that’s awesome! my names jimin, and i’m gonna make sure we start this festival the right way!” he says.

“jimin?!” you say, looking at riki. “did i mention the headliner always plays last?” he laughs quickly, as you suck your teeth and shove him playfully.

a few hours pass, 7 of the 8 acts playing through. it’s close to midnight at this point, and the crowd is as packed as you could imagine. the barricade sucks you in, not in an uncomfortable way, but still impressively. the space between each person was slim, but still close enough to keep you warm. you never realized how big some of these gigs were. hundreds of local new yorkers surround the area, from the barricade to the entrance. all of these people, and they’re all joined here to see enhypen. they’re all here to see jay.

as the hours past prior, you realized how close the crowd had slowly pushed you and riki toward each other. you stood now in the space between you and riki with him standing behind you. his chest planted flush against your back, his arms leaning forward and his hands stayed on the barricade in front of you, arms close around your body but not close enough to keep constant contact. he held the barricade, not in manner that seemed as though he was unable to move, but in a protective way. it felt as if he was doing what he could to keep people away from you.

and the last artist walked of the stage your eyes panned down to look at his hands. knuckles red and his skin pale from the cold, his gloves in his jacket pocket. the grip on the bar would be better without the gloves. it would be easier to hold onto. better to keep you within his space now. you glance behind you, noticing his head tilted a bit upward, like if he’s avoiding too much physical contact. it made you think about the impossible. it made you consider things you knew couldn’t be real. he’s just being a gentlemen. that’s why he’s keeping you among him. if it was anything else, he’d be much closer. right?

moments later, the lights turn a whiteish-blue color, a group of 6 mean on the stage. in the center, a man stood behind a microphone on the stand. on the far left, two bassists almost directly next to each other. right side diagonal behind the lead singer, a man sat behind a drum set. in the far left back corner, a table set up with a computer and music interface stood in front of another member. and on the left closest to the lead singer, stood jay in all of his glory. his hair slicked as always, his baggy camo cargos hung low on his waist, leaving less than an ounce of skin showing between the white t shirt. and of course, his leather jacket with his red guitar. you smiled as you realize how close you really were, and at how riki really chose the perfect spot to get him almost directly in front of you. the smile on his face was smug, but filling. he was glowing. you’d never seen him shine like that before. he’s truly someone else on stage.

“he looks amazing.” you say, your eyes never leaving his frame. “he always does. just hits different when you see him in action.” riki says. “have you seen him in action?” you ask. “somewhat. he used to sing to me all the time in jail. this is the first i get to see him on a stage in person though.” he says.

“what’s good harlem!” the lead singer speaks into the mic with high energy, the crowd cheering even louder than before in response. they were all truly here for enhypen.

“hope you all have been enjoying the show this far! if you know us, welcome back to our show! if not, we are enhypen! allow us to introduce ourselves!” he says. “my name is mark lee, i’m the lead singer of enhypen!” his words are interrupted as the crowd cheers.

mark looks over at the bassists, nodding at them as the walk toward the microphone. mark takes a step back to give them space behind the mic. “i’m ricky.” one man speaks. “and i’m yujin.” the other speaks. “and we’re the bassists!” the say together, smiles on their faces through their words. the crowd cheers again, the two walking back to their corner.

the drummer stands from behind the drum set, as a staff member hands him a microphone briefly. “what’s up, my names seunghan! i play the drums for the group!” he says. as expected, the crowd cheers loudly. he sits back down on his stool as the staff member brings the mic over to the fourth member.

“it’s T.O.P the one and only, i’m our producer and tech instrumentalist for live shows!” he says into the mic, making a peace sign with his hands as he speak. the staff member quickly heads back the curtain the opposite way he came, careful to not disrupt any of the idols contact.

you and riki simultaneously look over at jay, him still not noticing your presence. he looks at mark with a shy smile, shaking his head. you can see mark from the corner of your eye, nodding and motioning for him to come to the microphone. “cmon, the fans should know why we’re here right now!” you can hear marks words very faintly in the distance of the microphone. jay lets out a sigh, your eyes following him as he walks and stands in the center of the stage, the mic in front of him.

“hey. my names jay. i’m the leader and founder of enhypen, but more importantly, i’m our guitarist.” he says quickly, before heading back to his original stance. the crowd is beaming louder than ever. it’s seemingly impossible to not love park jongseong.

mark smiles walking forward as he gives jay a thumbs up. “thank you so much for coming to our show today. we’ve been having a hard time, and this gig really means everything to us. we’ve got a great lineup of songs for you today, including some christmas covers! so we hope you enjoy!” he says.

without seconds to spare, the group start their first song. you sang and danced along to the songs as they played throughout the hour, turning back and fourth between riki and the barricade and you sang the lyrics in each others faces. it was a relief to finally hear some music you know.

as amazing as the band was, you couldn’t seem to keep your eyes of jay whenever they weren’t on riki. it was fascinating to you, how he was able to be so cool, classy and sexy at the same time. his stage presence was like no other. for someone who wasn’t the star of the group, he truly stuck out as if he was. it was no wonder all eyes were on him, his hand when it came to strings was truly like nothing you had never seen before. through every single song, he played that guitar like he would never play again once the song stopped. his entire heart and soul was put into every millisecond of every beat. he hadn’t screwed up a single time, and if he did, you certainly didn’t notice. he was just that good at what he did.

it made you wonder, how he wasn’t married. how he was alone most of the time. how he ended up as a police officer when he had the talent and drive to do so much move. he had exactly what it took to be selling out stadiums for world tours, instead he lived a life where his biggest gig was your city’s local christmas fest. he deserved more. you could see it. the light in his eyes when he played that guitar of him made you see him in a different light. for the first time, it gave you leeway to see him for who he truly was inside.

before you knew it, they were down to their last song. the crowd cheered and clapped as the instrumental to ‘last christmas’ by wham faded away from the prior cover, mark stepping to the right wing of the stage for a moment. he disappears for a moment, and the light in jay’s eyes immediately dims out like a lightbulb blacking out. his face fell, he swallows hard. you can see the pace of his chest pick up with his breathing. where on earth could his confidence have possibly flew off to?

soon after, mark returns to the stage with a second mic in his hand. the crowd behind you letting out cheers as he starts to speak again. “alright, i have some good news and some bad news. what do you want first?” he teases. the large multitude of concert goers behind you shout in mixed responses between good and bad, the people shouting the word ‘bad’ managing to overpower. “well, the bad news is. this next song is our last.” mark speaks. the crowd breaks out in a serious of booing and complaints. “i know i know, but it’s almost 2am and we do have day jobs still. we wish we could stay and perform longer too.” mark laughs. “but! there’s still good news. the good news is, we’ve got an amazing encore song for you.” he starts, looking over at jay.

jay’s feet drag across the stage a bit as he makes his way to the microphone on the stage, mark crossing him to take his place. “for this song, i need you guys to make as much noise as possible. our wonderful leader jay will be taking my place as lead singer for this song. it’s his first time singing in front of a crowd, so please make him feel as loved as possible!” mark finishes.

the flock of people erupts in shouting and uplifting as jay stands front and center of the stage. your head shoots back to look at riki, seeing his shocked expression matching yours. “no fucking way!” he says.

“thank you, thank you. i hope i can make you all proud.” jay says, clearly nervous but his confidence still finding its way to shine through a bit. the music starts, the intro to ‘all i want for christmas’ by mariah carey plays as jay’s voices fills the mic. you hop around in excitement for a moment, before settling to listen to jay.

as the slow start of the song plays, you take the chance to admire the quality of jay’s vocals. he’s stable, firm, and strong in his use of his mixed register. you notice his nerves calming slowly as the crowd sings along with him word for word.

as you sing along for a second, before melting back into riki’s chest. your head lays diagonally to his right shoulder, your own arms hugging your sides. slowly and gently, you feet his head resting down on yours, his hands finally leaving the barricade. he brings his up to your torso, wrapping them under your own arms. you can hear him singing the lyrics under his breath, falling into him more and more as the moment passes.

as the song goes on, the upbeat music of course gets you both dancing with high energy. you hold riki’s hand in yours, shifting around as you sing to each other joyfully. after dancing around for a bit, you notice riki slowly stopping and turning his attention to the stage.

jay’s hands shake a bit around his guitar as he plucks at the strings, his eyes closed tightly for a bit, before he looks toward mark. mark, who’s on backup vocals, dances and moves around the stage so smoothly, making sure to shoot jay a reassuring nod. as jay faces his eyes toward the crowd again, you hear riki shout.

“go jay!” he yells, jumping up and down and waving his arms. you look back and fourth between jay and riki and before deciding to join him. “yeah jay! woo-hoo! go jay, go!” you cheer, hopping around and clapping your hands.

jay’s eyes pan the crowd from left to right, finding you both near the center of the barricade to the right. his eyes widen, the fear in his face immediately fading into a smile as he waves at you. “he saw us, he saw us!” you shout, jumping into riki’s arms. he hugs you tightly, rocking you back and fourth a few times. “i know!” he laughs. you pull back a bit, making eye contact with him before you both playfully snark at each other a bit and push each other from the hug.

the song comes close to its close, jay’s voice embracing the bridge like some kind of long needed serenity. “you think he’s gonna hit the high notes at the end?” you ask, head turning to riki. “of course! he wouldn’t be jay if he didn’t! he’s just be jongseong, and that’s kinda boring!” riki jokes. you roll your eyes and cross your arms, leaving riki to laugh.

and as anticipated, jay absolutely took the high note to the top. its was incredibly impressive to see how a man with such a low vocal register natural could have such a phenomenal range. he sang so high as if it was the equivalent to breathing air. it looked so effortless. he looked like if he could sing for the rest of his life, he would.

the second high note rolled around very soon after, riki making the corrupt decision to attempt to sing along… off key. you turn around and slap your hand over his mouth, cutting off his deranged accident of a high note. “uh uh, absolutely not, leave it to mariah. and more importantly, don’t quit your day job.” you say. riki take your hand in his through his laughter. “it’s not like i have one anyway!”

the songs fades out, the entire concert giving jay all the positive energy you could all possibly push out. the band members start to slow head toward the back of the stage near the drummer and the producer. “thank you harlem, thank you to the producers, the staff and our management for letting us be here today! but most importantly, thank you to everyone who came here today. you’ve made this show one of our best. we’ll never forget this. goodnight!” jay says into the mic, taking the mic from the stand and walking backwards toward the others as the curtains close.

the last round of applause and cheering is sent through the entire park before the crowd of visitors start to head home, leaving nothing but the families of the performers on the standing ground. you watch one by one as each other the artists come through the sides of the stage to meet their families, until you finally see jay.

as he comes down the stairs he spots the two of you, slinging his guitar behind his back and practically running to you like a kid going into candy store. with ease he pulls both of you into a tight embrace, with a smile on his face not even a bad day could rip away from him.

“thank you so much for coming. thank you. really, thank you.” he rambles, his words gentle but full of meaning. you each part from the hug before riki speaks. “of course jay. i told you’d i’d make it my business to be here for you. and i don’t tend to break promises.” he says. you nod, cupping jay’s face in your hands. “jay the show was so amazing! oh i’m so proud of you!” you say, before wrapping your arms over his shoulders and hugging him tightly again. he lets out a small laugh as his right arm brings itself around your waist. “it means everything to hear that.” he says.

after the show, you find yourself leaving the booth of an almost empty 24hr breakfast diner. you, riki and jay decided good eats was the ideal reward for the success of the show that night. as you exit the front door of diner in preparation to head home, riki and jay lined behind you helping you keep the door open, you hear a small noise. to the right of you along the end of the sidewalk, a small black kitten sat watching you.

“aw look, a kitty.” you smile. “what? where?” riki asks, frantically looking around before noticing the cat. “oh no, you got him going.” jay laughs. “huh?” you ask.

before you know it, riki is on his knees, rubbing his fingers together as the cat sniffs him. “come here, you can come here. i’m nice.” he says, his reverting to this gentle voice as if he was talking to a baby. the kitten purrs a bit, walking forward and bringing his paws up to riki’s leg. he smiles, petting the cat from under its chin. “oh you must be a nice kitty.” he says, ever so gently. “riki we have to go.” jay starts.

riki ignores jay’s words, his attention focused on the cat crawling into his lap. he scratches its head for a bit longer, until the cat in fully in his lap, humming and purring the loving touch. “come riki, let’s go riki. leave the cat.” jay says. when finally given the chance, riki picks up the cat, bringing it over his shoulder as he comes to his feet again. “you’re coming with me nice kitty.” he says, smiling. jay sighs and rolls his eyes, walking ahead to riki’s car. “sunghoon’s gonna kill you if he comes home to another cat.”

“we haven’t had a new cat in ages. and besides, this baby can’t stay here all by herself. it’s cold, and she has no collar or a clear sign of and owner. plus, she’s limping. she needs a vet.” riki says, as you each get in the car. “unfortunately, you are not a vet.” jay says. riki sighs. “you don’t have to remind me.” he says.

the whole ride home, the cat stays in riki’s lap. purring and nuzzling his thighs, on hand petting her back as she lays so peacefully. not a single pothole or bump could startle her enough to move. she slept so calmly with him. “she really likes you…” you say, you eyes planted on the harmless creature in his lap, noticing how easily she melted into him, how it was so much easier for an animal to feel so homey with him when not even a human could. “most animals do.” riki smiles.

the following morning you find yourself sprawled out on your bed, fighting your sleep as sunghoon stands at the end of your bed. his hands rested on his waist, his face as your mother’s would be when you got in trouble as a kid. “wake up sleepy. we need to talk.” he says.

your eyes heavily lidded, you refuse to lift your head from your pillow. “so you come to my home at 8am??? who the hell even let you in??” you ask, voice groggily. “your landlord. you forget he likes me.” sunghoon says. “whatever. am i in trouble?” you ask. “you will be if you try to lie.” sunghoon says.

“man, lie about what?” you snarl, sitting up and scratching your head as you yawn. “you tell me. is there a reason riki’s location turns off at 1am almost every other night?” he asks. you freeze and furrow your eyebrows, digging in the box of excuses in your brain. “i dunno where his funky ass goes at night. he’s not my dog to leash.” you say.

“really, so why do you keep bailing on me whenever i wanna smoke?” sunghoon asks. “man, i am a tired woman! i can’t just be out late all the time anymore! and here you are waking from from my beauty sleep!” you start, attempting to change the subject. “well it’s better to get the answers now rather than later.” sunghoon rolls his eyes. “i am at home in my bed all the time. i need to sleep. classes? remember? duh!” you shake your head at him.

“you have had classes since before christmas. and you don’t go back until halfway through feburary.” sunghoon says, his face flat. your widen your eyes in disbelief. he caught you in your lie. “on top of that, riki’s location goes MIA after 1am, and it’s been doing that since september… after the two of you took forever to come to the fire pit at the lake house. sunghoon says. “so if i’m connecting my dots correct, which i think i am, you’ve been sneaking around with the sick side-show ruckus man that is my little brother.”

you hold your silence for a moment, hoping to conjure up some kind of successful explanation for all of it without spilling your secret, eventually just giving in. “how the hell do you know that.” you say. “your best friend is a cynical man. he also told me.” sunghoon says. “i asked him specifically not to tell you!” you whined, slapping your hand to your forehead and falling back onto your pillow. “it was an accident, i asked him about his day and he was telling me about the stuff you talked about on the phone that day. he hung up in my face as soon as he realized what he did. clear slip up.” sunghoon shrugged.

“i’m absolutely gonna kick his ass.” you say. “that call was so long ago! you knew this whole time?! and didn’t say anything?!” you cry out. “yeah. i wanted to see if you’d come clean. clearly i had to take shit into my own hands, as usual.” sunghoon smirks.

“are you mad…?” you turn over onto your stomach, shoving your face into your pillow to muffle your words. “no.” sunghoon laughs. “wait really?” you start, sitting up again with swiftness. “yes. i don’t care if you fuck my brother. just don’t lie to me about it. i’d rather him be here with you than out in the streets selling drugs. or doing drugs. or getting killed.” sunghoon says says. “well in that case. i have questions.” you say.

you shove your hand under your pillow, taking your phone out from underneath. you quickly open the group chat, scrolling up a bit before you click on a photo sent a few months back. it’s the photo of riki as a kid, the two young boys you didn’t recognize next to him. you point the phone at sunghoon before speaking again. “who the hell are these guys?” you ask. “and why did riki get so mad when they sent this picture.”

sunghoon lets out a sigh as he kicks off his shoes and sits comfortably against the wall, facing outward toward to the rest of your apartment. “i knew you’d ask eventually.” he starts. “taki, and k.” he says, point at each boy as he names them. “okay… elaborate please?” you ask. “they’re two boys riki was supposed to graduate with. they had a huge falling out for a number of reasons. he doesn’t fuck with them anymore, at all.” sunghoon says.

“storytime maybe?” you say, turning the phone off and facing it downward between you both on the bed. “well, it goes all the way back to the night riki got arrested…”

1:45am on the clock. the party was on its high horse. taki and k stood in the grass of the house’s yard with their friends from the basketball team they all played on. their brains occupied by the liquor in their system, and the simple-minded conversation of their peers. it was long before k scoped out the scenery, noticing niki not far in the distance.

he watched the fear in his face grow upon the eye contact. k quickly taps taki, pointing over in niki’s direction. “he’s here.” he says. taki swallows hard, looking at k. “what are we thinking?” he asks. “let’s go get our money.” k says, moments before heading in the direction niki stood.

niki rushes his way back into the house through the crowded party, k keeping and eye on him the entire time. he shoved between everyone present outside the house as well, persistent to make his way to niki.

“you’ll stop if you know what’s good for you!” he shouts, finally making way into the house. “come on. if he thinks dropping out of school and leaving the team will get him out of this, he’s fucking stupid. i’m not stopping til i get my hands on his bitchass.” k says. taki nods in agreement.

k was always like this. once someone upset him, a quick, ‘i’m sorry’ couldn’t fit it. k was the type to come for blood when he was angry. taki on the opposing hand, didn’t care for conflict. he’d much rather just let go of the fact that riki owed him so much money, but deep down he knew k wouldn’t stop until he had niki’s head on a stick. so taki listened. and taki followed. he always listened. he always followed.

“get the fuck over here!” taki shouts, as they finally make their way to the front door of the house. “let’s go, he went this way. pussy wants to run, we can run too.” k says.

the two chased niki all the way down the street, the shouting and cursing circling and haunting his brain. “where’s my money?!” k’s shouting could be heard from a mile away. taki slows his pace a bit to catch his breath, some of the boys they came to the party with following up behind him. “come on man, he owes all of us money! we’re gonna lose him and it’s gonna be your fault!” k says, his voice aggressive as he takes a few steps backwards towards taki. he grabs to high end of his arm close to his shoulder, pushing him to start running again in niki’s direction.

as they finally approached the nearness of niki again, taki felt the knot in his stomach grow tighter. “you wanna fucking run?! you did this shit to yourself-“ k starts, his words cut off by a loud unsettling sound.

taki’s eyes meet niki’s, his gaze falling slowly down to his hands, the black item he held was a blur from the slight distance between them. he turns his head to k upon hearing the sound, seeing him hunched over on the ground on his knees, his hand on his shoulder. the blood ran down his torso as it soaked his shirt. k looks at his hand with a distorted face, moaning and weeping in pain as he brought his hand back to the open wound. “fucking asshole..” he groans.

taki’s eyes widened as he comes to a realization. the blurry black item in niki’s hand was a gun. and he just shot at k.

before he can speak, another shot is fired. the bullet hits taki harshly, right through his skin. it

falls above his left hip, dangerous close to his stomach.

he gasps in pain, feeling the immediate regret of ever even following k out of the party. before he can even register the events taking place, he collapses onto the group. the rest of the boys they came with ran as fast as they could none of them stopped. none of them tried to help him nor k.

as the moments pass, taki finds himself floating in and out of his consciousness. he can’t make much of his surroundings in the moment. the only thing that can be processed, are the red and blue that lit up the sky, the feeling of paramedics surrounding him, and sound of niki’s cries as the police put him in handcuffs for the first time in his life.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 💭 : #daddyshome after her little break. this chapter is a day later than intended. but i still posted so i think i deserve a pat on the back. in advanced i am so sorry if this chapter is kinda a mess.. i got very drunk on vacation and wrote this once everyone went to bed 😭 this is probably the only time i’ve ever proofread, and it’s because if i had posted it as it was, nobody would’ve have known what the hell i was trying to say 😭😭 i also realized later i wrote in a part i meant for a later chapter and had to rewrite most of this anyway, which is a part of why it took so long to post. anyway, i’m back !!! hopefully things will go according to schedule from here on out. and thank you to everyone who was so kinda after the weird anon messages fiasco !!! you guys gave me much motivation to keep going. there’s not much else to say. i think this chapter speaks for itself the most part. thanks so much for reading !!! love u 💕💕

𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 : @lei-babyyy @ddiore @444rxin @shaggythefaggy @vixialuvs @nadiaaaaasworld @ahgasedaddz @rikisloverrr @rikitual @enhypenxfss @hibrobro @seerpentsk1rt @sunnimia @encorp @ily6968 @clowpjm @jong-carpio @jayshadoww @h3artsineden @kookieterry @whoisthis-xxo @beenactingtoorude @foxiebread @lovenha7 @interfated @tboboee @suvakrpa @r1kosluv05 @iheartshopping @law1et @slfshwltz @nshmrarki @cayy44 @prisciilaa @ellushic @samsayssam @voucearse @kimmm02 @h0neylemon @lngshotholic @jakeycakeys @chloe24443322 @nuhh-7 @lolzghost @kenziiegirl @luvv1anime @1fansturniolo @sarahtarannum @urlocalweirdoooo @ionicjake @skyearby @wonnieslvr @d0llddeonu @binneulton @rikislove @cha0thicpisces

[antonh0lic]

guys this is like peak literature, i’m genuinely so goooed and gagged i need to actually be yn bc😩😩😩

[pwblant]

and suddenly im sixteen again — lee anton

⋆˚࿔ pairing: anton lee x fem!reader

⋆˚࿔ warnings: profanity, matcha hate (i am a proud matcha drinker)

⋆˚࿔ synopsis: at the ripe age of 16, your bestfriend—anton lee—decides to confess his feelings to you. thinking it’s just a phase and that puberty is still hitting, you shrug it off. but, what happens if his feelings never really went away after all these years?

© pwblant 2026

[enirves]

I think Jo is genuinely the most photogenic person to ever exist

[smidare]

what is his problem..

[brachiodilatte]

shoulders: broad

face: pretty

hair: shiny

waist: slutty

chest: big

[antqnh0lic]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

[hwrtoni]

AWW SO CUTE SO CUTE

[wenology]

friday night ( nicholas wang x reader x nakakita yuma )

summary: the night started out like any other friday with yuma and nicholas; a frat party full of loud music and an over consumption of alcohol. what you didn’t expect was for you and your two best friends to finally cross the line you’d all been pretending didn’t exist.

warnings & tags: smut, all under the influence, threesome, porn w very little plot, p in v, member x member, unprotected sex & cumming inside (pls wrap it), pet names, cum eating, slight overstimulation, slight degradation, oral (m receiving), switch!yuma (if you squint), dom!nico, kissing, creampie. (pls lmk if i missed any!)

word count: 3.2k (3216)

authors note: hi... this is my first time writing smut.. any and all feedback is appreciated! also i do not like frat men ❌❌❌❌ but frat &team 🤤🤤🤤 ALSO not proof read so sorry for any mistakes

the fraternity house is bustling with people downstairs. it’s slowly dying down, but on a friday night, a crowd is to be expected. 

voices blur together into one long sound. music thuds through the walls, the rhythm steady. someone laughs too loudly, then too far away.

yuma hooks an arm loosely around your shoulder as you pass the kitchen. “you’re leaving already?” he asks, as if he’s offended.

“i’m tired,” you say, speech slurred like his from the alcohol you’ll regret in the morning. 

“you’re always tired,” he replies, but he doesn’t let go.

nicholas is a step behind you both, quieter, slower. he’s drunk in a way that doesn’t show much, more subtle than you and yuma. “upstairs,” he says, not asking.

you glance back at him. “yeah.”

yuma lets out a satisfied hum, guiding you toward the stairs like he always does when three of you to leave together. “my room’s closer,” he says, already starting up.

“of course it is,” nicholas mutters. 

you catch the way yuma looks back at him over his shoulder; quick, amused, like they’re having a separate conversation that you’re not apart of. you follow anyway, brushing it off. maybe you’re so drunk that you’re imagining things. 

by the time you reach the hallway upstairs, the noise from below is just a low hum, muffled through the walls. 

yuma stumbles slightly into the wall as he turns, laughing under his breath. “we survived.”

“barely,” you say as you stop behind him. 

nicholas steps past you both, opening his bedroom door, rather than yuma’s, without hesitation. “come in, or don’t.” 

it isn’t really an invitation but yuma already follows him in. it’s his bedroom after all. 

you hesitate for half a second too long. nicholas notices. of course he does.

“you coming in?” he asks, quieter now. his voice is softer, a subtle change in tone from when he spoke to yuma. 

your throat feels dry for no good reason. “yeah,” you mutter as you walk past the doorway. the door shuts behind you, and the sound of the party disappears completely.

the room is dim, messy like you would expect a frat guy’s room. clothes on a chair, a half-empty bottle on the desk, the faint smell of alcohol still in the air like it’s clinging to everything.

yuma flops onto the bed immediately, spreading out like he owns it. “this is a terrible idea,” he says with a huff.

“you followed me,” nicholas says.

“exactly,” yuma replies, grinning.

you’re still standing near the door. it feels different, like there’s tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. 

nicholas moves first, shutting the door properly this time. the click sounds too final in the quiet. he leans back against it for a second, eyes flicking to you, not lingering anywhere else.

just you.

“you’re still standing there,” he says, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. 

“yeah,” you reply, but it comes out softer than you mean it to.

yuma pats the space between him and nicholas on the bed. “sit down. you look like you’re about to fall over.” 

“i’m fine.”

“you’re swaying,” he corrects.

you don’t deny it because, well, you are. so you sit.

you’re sat between them again, like it’s become the only natural place for you to end up tonight. yuma sits up, the mattress dipping under his weight. 

yuma’s shoulder presses into yours without asking permission. nicholas sits a little straighter, but not farther away. your knee brushes his when you adjust.

no one moves it.

the room is so silent you could hear a pin drop. it’s tense, like the air is waiting for someone to break first.

yuma exhales slowly, watching you more than anything else in the room. “you’re doing that thing again.”

you look at him. “what thing?”

his smile is lazy, but his eyes aren’t. “thinking too hard.”

nicholas’s voice comes quieter. “you’ve been like that all night.”

you swallow. “i’m just sitting here,” you say.

“yeah,” yuma murmurs, leaning back on his hands, “that’s the problem.”

nicholas finally looks at you fully. not the room. not yuma. you.

your breath catches a little too late to hide it, but yuma notices anyway. he always does. and this time, when his hand lands behind you on the bed, it doesn’t feel like an accident anymore.

nicholas’ eyes flicker down to your lips, pink and glossy. you notice, of course you do. it’s obvious from the way your cheeks burn up. before you can process what’s happening, his lips crash onto yours.

yuma is still sat on your right, hand moving to your thigh. you tense up at first, lips still moving against nicholas’. 

nicholas pulls away reluctantly, a soft whine escaping your lips as he does. he chuckles, though he’s a little nervous deep inside. “is this okay?” he asks, trying to read you. the last thing he’d want is for you to be uncomfortable. 

you nod immediately; it’s almost embarrassing how bad you want this. yuma’s hand still massages your thigh, hands creeping closer to your heat. “you’re wet already,” he mumbles as his hand moves past your skirt, fingers brushing against the damp part of your panties. 

you just whimper in response, overwhelmed, your heart beating in your chest louder than the music downstairs. “s-shut up,” you stutter. 

to your left, nicholas chuckles again, the sound sending a jolt to your cunt. “you’ve been thinking about this for a while, huh?” he asks, his voice smooth. 

your cheeks heat up yet again-you’re sure you’re as red as an apple. “no—“ you start, but he cuts you off. “don’t lie,” he says, less soft than before. 

you swallow thickly. you open your lips to speak, but yuma’s fingers push your soaked panties to the side to slide through your folds, causing you to moan. “you’re so wet,” he mumbles. without warning, two of his fingers plunge into your tight hole. your back arches, a loud whimper escaping your lips before nicholas muffles it with another kiss. 

the room fills with the sound of your moans, and of yuma’s long fingers pumping in and out of your heat. “so wet already,” he murmurs as he watches you and nicholas. “needy little baby,” he continues. “dripping from just being alone with your two best friends, huh?”

you whimper pathetically against nicholas’ lips. yuma sighs with frustration. he wants your attention too. he curls his fingers inside of you sharply. “stop ignoring me,” he grits out. 

you reluctantly pull away from nicholas, moaning yet again from yuma’s actions. “i-i.. yes, fuck,” you barely manage to get out. you don’t even know what you’re saying at this point. 

yuma groans and pulls his fingers out without any warning. his other hand grips your jaw, pulling you closer to his face. “open,” he says, bringing his fingers covered in your juices up to your lips. and you do, lips parting immediately and wrapping around his fingers. he groans at the feeling of your wet, warm mouth. 

to your left nicholas is watching the scene unfold in front of him. like yuma, his pants are starting to tighten quickly. but he decides to be patient, he doesn’t want to scare you off. 

yuma stands up, pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a soft pop sound coming from your lips. “up,” he says. you freeze, looking at nicholas. he just nods, signaling that it’s okay. you know they’d never do anything to hurt you. you stand up, nicholas’ hand on the small of your back. yuma looks over at the bed before his eyes meet yours again. “get on the bed, on your hands and knees,” he commands. 

your knees nearly buckle, your breath catching in your throat. but you obey, slowly moving to the side of nicholas’ twin sized bed, getting on your hands and knees. nicholas shifts, moving so he’s sitting where your head is. on the other hand, yuma walks up behind you. he pushes your skirt above your ass, groaning at the sight. while he’s there, he tugs your panties off, tossing them to an unknown area of nicholas’ room. 

“so eager,” he mutters as he sees you clench around nothing. you can hear him messing with his belt, the sound of the metal shooting to your pussy. he tugs it off, tugging his pants and boxers with it. you look behind you, and see his hand immediately wrap around his cock—it’s thick, not the longest but bigger than anything you’ve ever taken. you gulp, feeling your cheeks heat up again. 

nicholas notices your nervousness and he cups your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “it’s okay,” he mumbles as he watches you closely. 

“the safe word is red,” yuma says from behind you. your chest tightens, you’re not sure if it’s from excitement or nervousness, or a mix of both. but you just nod in response, a quiet “okay” slipping out. 

yuma’s hand gropes the flesh of your ass, his other hand bringing his cock to your entrance. he rubs the tip against your folds, groaning at the feeling. it’s so slick, so eager to take him. and it does. he pushes in smoothly, the wetness from your cunt making it easy for him to push inside. you let out a loud moan, sending a jolt to nicholas’ crotch. 

yuma takes his time sliding in, letting you adjust to his size. but he’s impatient, he always has been. he doesn’t wait for you to give him the go before he starts to pull out a bit, pushing in and out of your pussy at a painfully slow pace. all you can do is moan, hands gripping the sheets underneath you. 

the younger man looks to your right; nicholas palming himself over his jeans. nicholas groans quietly at the sight of you taking yuma’s cock.. yuma notices, smirking to himself as he watches the older man. they look at each other, speaking to each other with just their eyes as they always do. nicholas undoes his belt carefully, standing up to tug bis jeans and boxers down. you look up, mouth watering at the sight. ‘shit,’ you think to yourself. he’s huge, bigger than yuma. hes a bit thinner, but much longer. you swallow thickly, eyes looking up to his. he just looks down at you, hand moving up and down the base of his cock, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. 

yuma watches, his cock twitching inside of you at the sight. he feels you clench around him as you stare at nicholas’ cock. “you g’na put that pretty mouth to use and suck nico off?” yuma asks, grunting from how your pussy wraps around him so nicely. 

all you can do is let out a pathetic moan and nod, lips parting immediately as nicholas’ hand cups the underside of your chin. he grips his cock, rubbing the precum on his tip all over your lips. he groans, feeling your tongue dart out, lapping at his tip like a starved woman. he pushes in further, filling your warm, wet mouth with his length. his head is thrown back, cursing under his breath as he hisses. “shit, baby,” he mutters as your lips wrap around him. your moans are muffled by him filling your mouth, yuma’s hips still snapping against yours. your moans send a vibration to nicholas’ cock, his hand moving to your hair to grip it tightly. 

the room fills with the sound of both men moaning and grunting, both of their hips thrusting towards you. nicholas is more gentle, moving slowly but still thrusting his cock into your mouth as he watches you. yuma, on the other hand, is rough. his hands tightly grip your hips; you’ll definitely have marks in the morning. 

yuma’s pace starts to pick up, his movements becoming sloppier as he watches nicholas’ cock disappear into your mouth. nicholas looks over at him, his eyes meeting yuma’s. “don’t tell me this is turning you on,” he laughs, causing yuma’s grip on your hips to tighten.

“s-shut the fuck up,” yuma grits out as he keeps dragging his dick in and out of your cunt. nicholas just chuckles, cradling your face as he continues his slow movements. 

“oh c’mon yu,” nicholas says, suppressing his moans as you hollow your cheeks around his cock. “you can be honest, you’ve thought about me fucking your mouth, too, huh? don’t worry, you’ll get your turn too.”

yuma whimpers in response, his hips snapping harshly against yours, causing you to take nicholas’ cock deeper in your throat. he doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol in his system or the feeling of your wet heat around him, but his cheeks flush and he’s a whimpering mess now. “shit--shit ah, ‘m cumming,” he moans at a high pitch, eyes squeezing shut as ropes of cum fill you up. you moan from the feeling, your orgasm following soon after. you moan around nicholas’ cock, your walls fluttering around yuma, accidentally overstimulating him a bit. you gasp, nicholas’ length slipping out of your mouth. he hisses, but let’s you come down from your high. he watches you, brushing the hair out of your face as he continues to stroke his cock. “take a break baby, hm?” he whispers to you as you look up at him, catching your breath. you just nod, laying on your stomach as you watch nicholas. 

he moves to the other side of the bed where yuma is, watching the younger one pull out of you with a groan. he grips yuma’s collar, pulling him in for a kiss. yuma moans against his lips, reciprocating it. it’s a hungry, messy kiss. you roll over onto your back, eyes darting up to them immediately. you feel a heat rush to your core, causing your thighs to squeeze together. they don’t notice yet, too lost in each other. nicholas pulls away and yuma whines lightly as if wanting a little more from the older man. nicholas can’t help but smirk as he pulls away from the kiss. “lay on your back,” he tells yuma, who scrambles to get on the bed immediately. he lays on his back and nicholas adjusts him, yuma’s head hanging off of the bed. “gonna put this mouth to good use,” he murmurs before he slaps his cock on his cheek. yuma’s plump lips part, nearly drooling as his eyes stare up at nicholas’ length.

yuma’s lips part automatically, allowing nicholas to shove his cock in his mouth. nicholas hisses quietly, feeling yuma’s lips wrap around him tightly. while they’re busy, you crawl over to yuma, watching him harden. your hand gently grabs his length, pumping it slowly, causing yuma to moan around nicholas. nicholas bucks his hips, groaning from the vibrations. he watches you, watching you tug your skirt off and move onto yuma’s lap, hovering over his cock. 

yuma whimpers around nicholas as he sucks him off, feeling you line his length up with your entrance. one hand is on his stomach to hold yourself up as you slowly sink down, adjusting to his size again. you bite your lip, suppressing your noises. nicholas watches closely, his dick twitching in yuma’s mouth. while you adjust, your hands both move to his stomach to hold yourself up. your head fell forward, gasping as you bottomed out. 

you felt yuma twitch inside of you as you clenched around him, overwhelmed from the feeling. he slipped in so easily from the mix of your cum from your earlier round. you started to ride yuma at a slow pace, grinding on his lap. the sounds coming from where your bodies met was erotic, so wet. the room filled with the sounds of the three of you moaning and your skin slapping.

yuma knew he wouldn’t last long, and nicholas was coming to his climax as well. he leaned forward, causing his dick to push further in yumas mouth. he slowly thrusted his cock into yuma’s mouth as he grabbed your face, kissing you hungrily. you moaned against each others lips, your pussy clenching more around yuma as nicholas’ tongue entered your mouth. you sucked on his tongue, your saliva mixing. 

you felt yuma’s hand smacking at your thigh, his moans getting louder. he was about to cum again, deep inside of you. his hips thrusted up against yours, fucking you from below. you whimpered around nicholas’ mouth, the older man pulling away reluctantly. before he could speak, yuma’s cum filled you up again, your tight walls milking him. he whimpered and moaned around nicholas as he emptied his cum into you. you felt the warmth filling you, causing you to moan. but, you hadn’t cum yet. 

nicholas noticed, still slowly moving his cock in and out of yuma’s mouth. “don’t stop riding him,” he instructed as he pulled out of the younger’s mouth. and who were you to disobey nicholas? you kept riding yuma, overstimulating the poor boy. his hands gripped your hips, trying to stop you but you kept riding. nicholas watched, stroking his dick at a fast pace as he watched. he knew you were close, as was he. 

yuma twitches under you, whining from the overwhelming feeling as you continue to chase your orgasm. you feel a knot form in your stomach, causing you to once again clench around him. “f–fuck hurry up!” he whimpers at you, fingers digging into the curve of your ass. 

“ngh–f-fuck, cumming,” you whined at a high pitch, feeling your orgasm about to crash. nicholas leaned forward again, jerking his heavy dick over yuma’s face as he crashed his lips against yours. your walls spasmed around yuma, whimpering and moaning against nicholas’ lips as you rode out your high. nicholas came as well, white ropes shooting onto yuma’s stomach and chest. he groaned against your lips, a string of saliva pulling as he pulled away. 

your body felt weak, nearly falling over. nicholas caught you, chuckling as he helped you pull off of yuma and lay on his bed. yuma panted quietly, as did you. he looked down at his chest and stomach, his cheeks turning red at the sight of nicholas’ cum on him. “really?” he groans, looking up at nicholas as he sits on the bed between you. 

nicholas laughs, “what? don’t act like you didn’t like it.” yuma grabs a pillow and chucks it at nicholas, causing you to giggle next to them. 

“fine fine, you big baby. i’ll get a rag,” he says as he stands up, heading to his bathroom. while he’s gone, you lean over, looking at yuma’s flushed face. curious, you move closer, lowering your head to lick the cum. you hum, the salty taste hitting your tastebuds. he whines softly, feeling his dick harden for a third time.

his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging at it gently. he didn’t want you to stop, but he didn’t know if he could handle more. you ignored his tugs, licking his skin clean. his lips parted to speak, but nicholas clearing his throat caught his and your attention. you looked up at him, a wet rag in his hand as he sighed. “i guess this is gonna be a long night,” he murmured. 

tags: @dreemxz

[bambiiverse]

Under My Skin (M) - P.WB

Pairing: Wonbin x Fem!Reader

Genre: s m u t, enemies to lovers!au

WC: ~13K

Synopsis: Y/n dreads sharing a beach house with Park Wonbin, the infuriating flirt she swears she hates. When her friends invite his group along to split costs, days of sun, sand, and petty rivalry follow. Caught between old grudges and a new, dangerous kind of chemistry, the two navigate a secret shift in their relationship over the course of one chaotic, end-of-semester trip—one that might not stay just a summer fling once they’re back in the city

The group chat was chaos.

Mina: beach house is $$$ we are actually broke

Jia: but i already bought 3 bikinis

You: return them

Jia: wow ur so anti-fun

You huffed, tossing your phone face down on your bed. End-of-semester beach trip, they said. It’ll be relaxing, they said. Somehow, the only thing you felt right now was a mix of anxiety and secondhand poverty.

Mina’s voice floated in from the desk where she was hunched over her laptop, tabs upon tabs open with photos of beach houses, price comparisons, and an ominous-looking spreadsheet.

“Okay,” she sighed, spinning her chair toward you. “If we get this place, it’s like… fifty dollars over budget per person.”

“Per person?” you deadpanned. “What are we renting, a castle?”

She swung the screen toward you; the listing showed floor-to-ceiling glass windows, a wraparound porch, a view of the ocean, and a hot tub.

“…Okay, it’s a really nice castle,” you admitted. “But still.”

Mina gnawed her bottom lip, then brightened like she’d just solved world hunger. “Actually, I might have a solution.”

You didn’t like the way she said that.

“What kind of solution?” you asked slowly.

She swiveled back to the laptop and clicked over to another tab—her messages. A chat with someone named Jihoon 🏄‍♂️ popped up.

“Mina,” you warned.

“So, Jihoon and his friends are planning an end-of-semester trip too,” she said, fingers flying over the keys. “They’re also broke. If we go together, we split the cost between more people. Boom, solved.”

From the floor, where Jia was lying on her stomach painting her toenails neon yellow, came a delighted gasp. “Co-ed beach trip? Say less. I’m in.”

“Of course you are,” you muttered.

Jia looked up, grinning. “What, do you hate fun and men?”

“Yes,” you replied without missing a beat. “Absolutely.”

Mina laughed. “Come on. It makes sense. We were gonna hang out with them anyway when we got back. This is just… combination hanging out. Economical hanging out.”

You frowned, trying to find solid ground under the wave of sudden change. “It’s supposed to be a girls’ trip,” you pointed out. “We planned this since, like, midterms. And now we’re just… adding a horde of loud boys into the mix?”

“They’re not a horde,” Mina protested. “There’s just five of them.”

“So a small horde,” you countered. “Also, is there even enough room? What if they’re disgusting and smelly and leave sand everywhere? What if they’re annoying? What if—”

“Oh my God,” Jia cut in, capping her nail polish. “Just say what you really mean.”

You crossed your arms. “I am.”

She and Mina exchanged the kind of look that said they’d been waiting for this.

Mina spun fully toward you, folding her arms to mirror your posture. “This isn’t about logistics,” she said. “This is about Park Wonbin.”

Your stomach dropped. “No, it’s not,” you lied immediately.

Jia laughed. “You just said boys like it was a slur.”

“That’s because he is included in ‘boys,’ and he’s basically a walking red flag,” you shot back. “Why would I willingly sign up to share a roof with Wonbin?”

Mina groaned. “You two don’t, like, actually hate each other.”

“Yes, we do,” you said at the same time Jia chimed in, “They definitely do.”

You pointed at Jia. “Thank you.”

“Babe,” Mina said, exasperated, “the most intense thing that’s ever happened between you two is him calling you ‘princess’ and you almost throwing your coffee at him.”

“First of all, I am the victim in that story,” you argued. “Second, he’s—he’s overconfident and annoying and flirts with anything that breathes. Including you two!” You gestured at them. “Why are you so excited to spend days trapped in a house with someone whose entire personality is being a menace?”

“Because he’s hot,” Jia replied instantly.

Mina snorted. “Okay but also he’s funny. And he’s Jihoon’s best friend, which means he’s vetted.”

“Vetted for what?” you said. “Being chaos incarnate?”

Mina sighed, softening her tone. “Look. Whatever this… thing is between you two, it doesn’t have an actual basis. You never could give me one concrete example.”

“He exists,” you said flatly. “Is that not enough?”

Jia threw a pillow at you. “You’re so dramatic. It’s not that serious. You talk about him like you’re writing an essay about idiots.’”

Heat crawled up your neck. “I do not.”

“You do,” Mina and Jia chorused.

Mina rolled closer and bumped your knee with her chair. “Be honest. He gets under your skin and you kind of… like having someone to spar with.”

You scoffed. “I like winning. Which I do. Often.”

Jia raised a brow. “You two are like… fifty-fifty at this point.”

The fact that she wasn’t entirely wrong pissed you off more.

Mina’s expression turned pleading. “It’s just a few days. You don’t even have to talk to him. You can pretend he doesn’t exist and enjoy the beach and the hot tub and not being broke.”

Your jaw tightened. A part of you wanted to dig your heels in, to prove them wrong about… whatever dumb theory they had about you and Wonbin. Another part of you imagined saying no and then listening to them complain about money for the next week.

You exhaled. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Mina repeated, eyes widening.

“As long as they say yes,” you clarified. “And as long as he doesn’t pull any of his usual crap. If he pisses me off, I’m dealing with him privately.”

Jia wiggled her brows. “Privately?”

“Not like that,” you snapped.

Mina’s grin was instant, blinding. “You won’t regret this.”

You already did.

~

They said yes.

Of course they did.

The beach house looked even better in person. The front porch wrapped almost all the way around, the salty air was thick and warm, and you could hear the ocean before you could see it—waves crashing in a soothing, relentless rhythm.

Your group’s car pulled in first. You stretched your cramped legs, shouldered your tote, and took a deep breath of sea air.

“Smell that?” Jia sighed happily, shading her eyes. “That’s the scent of freedom and bad decisions.”

“Smells like SPF fifty and sand in unfortunate places,” you muttered, but your lips twitched anyway.

You had just wrestled your suitcase out of the trunk when another car pulled into the driveway. Bass thumped faintly from within. Of course.

“Boys are here,” Mina sing-songed.

The car doors opened in succession. Jihoon, all sun-tousled hair and easy smile, waved as he stepped out. A couple of the other guys you vaguely recognized from campus spilled out after him.

Then he appeared.

Park Wonbin hopped out of the backseat like this was a commercial for summer, stretching with a groan that lifted his already-too-short T-shirt to flash a strip of tan skin. His hair was pushed back by a pair of sunglasses perched on his head. He slung a duffel over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

The worst part was that Jia was right. He was stupidly attractive.

You schooled your face into neutral.

His gaze swept across the driveway, landing on you like it’d been looking for you in particular. His mouth curled.

“Aw,” he drawled, striding closer. “They let you come?”

You inhaled through your nose. “Unfortunately, no one enforced a minimum IQ requirement, so here you are.”

Behind you, Mina cleared her throat sharply.

Jihoon clapped a hand on Wonbin’s shoulder. “Play nice,” he murmured.

Mina slipped her arm through yours, voice low. “Remember what we talked about. Group morale. No banter.”

You bit back three separate comebacks. “He started it,” you said under your breath.

“Don’t care,” she whispered back. “If you murder him on day one, Jihoon’s going to be sad and I’ll be single forever.”

Wonbin’s brows rose as if he’d heard that last part. “I promise I won’t die,” he said easily. “Princess here doesn’t have it in her.”

Your eye twitched.

“Suitcases,” Mina said brightly, louder now. “Let’s get everything inside.”

You dragged yours up the steps, muttering, “If I push him down these stairs by accident, that’s not murder. That’s gravity.”

“Y/n,” Mina hissed.

“Fine,” you grumbled.

Inside, the house was cool and spacious, all wooden beams and big windows. You staked out a bedroom with Mina, unpacked just enough to feel like you weren’t living out of your bag, and changed into your bikini and an oversized T-shirt.

The others congregated in the living room, voices overlapping as everyone talked at once.

“Beach first?” Jihoon suggested.

“Beach first,” the group agreed.

You grabbed your book from your bag—a slightly battered paperback you’d been slowly savoring all semester—and tucked it protectively under your arm as you headed out.

The sand was hot under your feet, the early afternoon sun blazing overhead. Everyone scattered: some ran straight for the water with whoops and shouts, others started setting up towels and umbrellas.

You spread your towel a little distance from the chaos and lay down on your stomach, book propped in front of you. The familiar weight of it in your hands calmed you.

The noise of a volleyball game picking up further down the beach faded into background static as you lost yourself in the words.

You were just getting to a particularly devastating line when a shadow fell across the page.

“You know no one actually reads at the beach, right?” a voice said.

You didn’t even look up. “And yet, here I am, disproving your thesis.”

A low chuckle.

“Come on,” Wonbin said, dropping down in the sand near your towel without invitation. “You bring a book to the beach so everyone thinks you’re mysterious and deep while you stare off into the distance dramatically. You’re doing this all wrong.”

You turned a page deliberately. “Not everything is performative.”

“Says the girl who brought the thickest book she owns and placed it cover-up,” he pointed out.

Your eyes flicked to him, annoyed. “Maybe I like the cover.”

He tilted his head, studying you. There was something softer in his gaze that made your chest feel uncomfortably tight, so you looked away.

“So,” he continued, undeterred, “what are you reading that’s more interesting than inescapable fun with me?”

“You seriously want me to list all the things more interesting than you?” you asked. “We’d be here all day.”

He grinned. “Careful. You’re starting to sound jealous.”

You blinked. “Jealous… of what?”

He sprawled back on his elbows, sunglasses sliding down onto his nose. “Of how much everyone else likes me.”

A laugh burst out of you before you could stop it. You quickly turned it into a scoff. “Please. They’re just gullible. You turn on the charm and they forget you’re a bitch.”

“Or,” he said, voice taking on a teasing lilt, “they think you’re being a little extra about hating me for no real reason.”

A flare of heat licked at your cheeks. You sat up, closing your book. “I have reasons.”

“Name one that doesn’t sound made up,” he challenged.

You opened your mouth.

Silence.

He smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

Before you could respond, Mina’s voice called your name. You turned to see her and Jihoon waving frantically from the volleyball net.

“Swap out with us!” Jihoon shouted. “We need fresh legs!”

You shot Mina a look that said traitor. She mouthed please and made a heart with her hands.

“I’m reading,” you protested weakly.

“Come on,” Wonbin goaded, already getting to his feet. “What, afraid to lose to me again?”

“That implies I’ve ever lost to you,” you said, standing and brushing sand off your legs.

He walked backward toward the net, grinning. “There’s a first time for everything, princess.”

“Stop calling me that,” you snapped, following.

Mina and Jihoon jogged off the court, exchanging a relieved look.

“It’s like distracting two kids with a toy,” Mina muttered to Jihoon as they passed.

You pretended not to hear.

~

The game dragged on for longer than you expected. You forgot, briefly, that you were supposed to be avoiding Wonbin, caught up instead in the rhythm of serve, bump, set, spike. Sweat beaded on your skin, salt sticking to everything.

Wonbin, infuriatingly, was good. His serves were powerful, his reflexes quick. Every time he scored a point, he shot you a cocky grin across the net.

By the time someone finally declared a winning team, the sun had dipped lower in the sky, the light softening.

Of course, his team won.

“Losers,” Jihoon crowed, “go wet yourselves and get sand-bombed. We agreed.”

“Who agreed?” you demanded. “I didn’t agree.”

“You didn’t say no,” Mina sing-songed.

“This is peer pressure,” you muttered as you trudged toward the water, the other “losers” following.

The ocean was cool against your overheated skin. A few of your teammates dunked themselves fully, shrieking at the temperature.

You waded in up to your thighs, glaring murderously at the boys on shore gathering handfuls of sand.

“Don’t you dare,” you warned as you came back up the beach.

Wonbin, holding what looked like an actual bucket of sand, smiled sweetly. “Punishment builds character.”

Before you could escape, he upended the bucket over your head.

Sand rained down your hair, your back, into your bikini, everywhere.

You sputtered, blinking grit out of your lashes. “I hate you,” you informed him.

He laughed so hard he doubled over. “You look like a croquette.”

The others howled with laughter. Even you couldn’t help a disbelieving, half-strangled laugh once you realized how ridiculous you must look.

“You’re dead,” you said, wiping your face. “You know that, right?”

He only winked. “Worth it.”

~

By the time everyone trudged back to the house, the sky had turned pink and gold. You showered quickly, washing what felt like a pound of sand from your hair, then slipped into comfy shorts and a loose top.

The house’s porch was shaded, a faint breeze cutting through the warm air. You curled up on a chair outside, hair still damp, your beloved book in hand again.

The sliding door opened with a soft thud. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

“You know, if you sit in silence too long, you might start having thoughts,” Wonbin said, stepping out.

“I already have thoughts,” you replied dryly, eyes on the page. “That’s the problem.”

He leaned against the porch railing, looking out at the glimpse of ocean beyond the dunes. For a moment, he was quiet.

Then, “Jihoon says I’m not allowed to ‘provoke’ you.” He even did the air quotes.

You snorted. “Mina said the same. Something about ‘keeping group morale up.’”

“Apparently we’re exhausting,” he said.

“You are exhausting,” you corrected.

He glanced over, lips twitching. “See? That. Provocation.”

You closed the book with a finger marking your place and finally met his eyes. “You always have some criticism ready. It’s like a reflex. Maybe we just… don’t have compatible personalities. And that’s fine. I’m planning to pretend you don’t exist for the rest of the trip.”

You’d meant it to sound flippant, but the words came out firmer than you expected.

For a flicker of a second, something like disappointment crossed his face. It was gone almost immediately, replaced by his usual lazy amusement.

“Bold of you to assume you can ignore me,” he said lightly. “You’ll get bored and come running back for an argument. You’ll miss me.”

“In your dreams,” you shot back.

He pushed off the railing. “I have very interesting dreams,” he said casually, then slid the door open and disappeared inside.

You stared at the closed door long after he was gone.

Did you seek him out? You thought back—every party, every mutual hangout, every casual gathering. How often did you end up near him? How often did you launch the first barb?

You pressed your thumb harder into your book, annoyed at yourself.

It wasn’t that you liked the arguments. You liked… getting the last word. Putting him in his place. Right?

You reopened your book, determined not to think about it.

~

Dinner was loud and messy. Someone burned the garlic bread, but everyone ate it anyway. Afterward, you all migrated to the living room with drinks and snacks.

Games started: card games, drinking games, dares. Wonbin drifted in and out of your orbit, sometimes sitting across from you, sometimes ending up right beside you on the couch.

Every time your knees brushed, you pretended not to notice.

“Truth or drink,” Jihoon declared at one point, slamming a bottle down on the coffee table.

It devolved quickly.

“Who here would you hook up with?”

“What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve done drunk?”

“How many people have you kissed?”

You answered your share, deflected a few with sips, rolled your eyes a lot. Wonbin answered everything with almost infuriating ease, laughing his way through.

At one point, someone asked him, “Have you ever fallen for someone who hates your guts?”

The room ooohed.

He looked right at you when he answered.

“Not yet,” he said smoothly, taking a sip.

Your throat went dry. You looked away first.

Later, some of the group migrated out to the hot tub. You stayed inside, perched on the arm of an armchair, ostensibly scrolling on your phone but really just… watching.

You hated how often your gaze found him.

He was laughing at something Jihoon said, head thrown back, lips parted, eyes crinkling. He moved so easily, as if his body was made to occupy space like that. There was something magnetic about it, which you resented on principle.

He glanced over suddenly, catching your eye. You snapped your gaze back to your phone.

Smooth.

~

It was late by the time you finally peeled yourself away from the group and headed toward the hallway where the bedrooms were.

You were half-asleep on your feet when a shadow appeared at the end of the corridor.

You almost ran into him.

“Jesus—” you started, stopping short.

Wonbin leaned a shoulder against the wall, blocking your path just enough that you had to either brush past him or step back.

“I noticed you staring,” he said, tone lazy.

Your stomach plummeted. “What?”

“Earlier,” he clarified. “On the couch. By the hot tub door. You kept looking at me.”

You scrambled for logic and came up empty-handed. “I was… looking at everyone.”

He smiled, slow and knowing, like he could see right through you. “Sure.”

You grasped at indignation like a lifeline. “Not everything is about you,” you snapped.

He hummed, amused. “It kind of looked like it was.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You genuinely didn’t have a solid reason, and that unsettled you more than you wanted to admit.

“It’s not what you think,” you managed finally.

“What do I think?” he asked softly.

You scowled. “That I want your attention or something.”

He shrugged, finally straightening up to give you space. “If the shoe fits.”

You shoved past him, heat prickling under your skin. “Go to bed, Wonbin.”

“Goodnight, princess,” he called after you.

You slammed your bedroom door harder than necessary.

Mina, already in bed, looked up from her phone. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” you said, too quickly.

You lay down, staring at the ceiling.

Ignoring him was going to be harder than you thought.

~

The next day dawned bright and hot. You tried to blame the heat for how restless you felt.

Out on the sand again, you staked out your towel right next to Mina and Jia, determined to focus on the water, the sky, literally anything else.

Wonbin jogged by on his way to join another impromptu volleyball match, pausing for just a second.

His gaze skimmed over you from head to toe, lingering for a heartbeat longer than it should have.

“I like your swimsuit,” he said easily. “It’s my favorite color.”

The compliment landed like a pebble in a still pool, sending rings of awareness through you.

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

He clucked his tongue. “Even when I’m being nice, you act like I’m about to bite you.”

“Force of habit,” you said coolly, reaching for your sunscreen. “You trained me well.”

He shook his head, smiling as he ran off. “Suit yourself.”

You watched him go, jaw tight.

“Y/n,” Jia said, sunglasses perched atop her head as she turned toward you. “He was being nice.”

“Exactly,” you said. “Which is suspicious.”

She laughed, flopping back down. “You exhaust me.”

You rolled your eyes and eventually wandered into the shallows with your friends. The waves lapped at your calves, the water sparkling around you. Further up the sand, the boys were mid-game again.

You tried to tune them out… and failed.

You found yourself watching Wonbin, tracking the way he moved, the easy power behind his spikes.

“Stop staring,” Mina murmured.

“I’m not,” you lied.

She gave you a look. You focused very intently on the water.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Wonbin go for a particularly ambitious hit. The ball flew up, catching the wind.

Too much power, wrong angle.

You followed its trajectory with growing dread.

“Oh no,” you breathed.

The ball arced perfectly toward the cluster of umbrellas where your towels and bags were spread out. And right in the middle of it all, lying face-up on your towel like a vulnerable sacrifice, was your book.

“No, no, no—” you splashed forward, but the ball had already landed, crashing into your things and sending sand spraying.

From the dunes, you saw Wonbin sprinting after it, feet pounding, sand flying. He skidded to a stop right on your towel.

Right on your book.

You watched in horror as his wet, sand-covered foot came down squarely on the paperback.

He froze, looking down.

You saw the exact second realization dawned on his face.

“Oh, he’s dead,” Jia whispered beside you, half-laughing.

Mina grabbed your arm. “Don’t fight,” she said nervously. “It was an accident.”

But you were already pulling away, storming up the sand.

Your heart pounded, rage lighting up your nerves. You barely heard your friends calling after you.

Wonbin bent down and gingerly picked up the book, wincing at the bent cover and creased, dampened pages.

“I can fix it,” he started.

“Don’t touch it,” you snapped, snatching it from his hands.

He flinched at your tone. “It was an accident.”

You held the ruined book up between you like evidence. “You would’ve reacted the same if it were your stupid sunglasses.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “Okay, fair,” he admitted.

Your friends had caught up by then, hovering a few feet away.

“Guys,” Jihoon called out, half-laughing, half-worried. “Let’s not—”

“No one needs to see this,” you cut him off sharply, jabbing a finger at Wonbin. “We’re taking it inside.”

The group went quiet.

Wonbin blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” you said, grabbing a handful of his hair at the back of his head and tugging.

He yelped. “Ow—okay, okay!”

You marched him up the beach, ignoring the disbelieving laughter and wolf-whistles behind you.

“You’re going to kill him,” Mina called out.

“He’ll be lucky if you ever see him walking again,” you threw over your shoulder.

Wonbin stumbled along, half-bent to relieve the pull on his scalp. “Is this really necessary?” he complained.

“Yes,” you said.

~

Inside, the air conditioning hit your heated skin, making you shiver. You shoved Wonbin toward the couch.

“Sit,” you ordered.

He flopped down, rubbing the back of his head with a wince. “You’re actually insane,” he muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked, leaning back and spreading his arms along the back of the couch. “You made this whole spectacle about teaching me a lesson. Might as well commit. As long as you don’t make me cry.”

You glared. “I want to hit you over the head, but you’d probably enjoy that.”

He grinned. “Depends how hard.”

You threw your hands up. “See? This is why I hate you.”

You stalked into the kitchen, leaving him confused—but not nearly as confused as you felt.

Your eyes landed on the fruit bowl.

Slowly, a plan formed.

When you came back, you were holding a lime and your phone.

He eyed the lime warily. “Please tell me that’s not going where I think it’s going.”

“You’re going to eat this,” you said, holding it up. “The whole thing. Rind and all. While I film it. If you spit it out, I pinch you... as hard as I want.”

He stared. “Are you in middle school?”

“My book is traumatized,” you retorted. “It deserves justice.”

He gestured at the bedraggled paperback on the coffee table. “You can still read it. It’s just a little… creased.”

“Say that again, and I’ll go cut up your swim trunks,” you threatened.

His eyes widened. “You’re bluffing.”

You took a step toward the hallway.

“Okay, okay,” he said quickly. “Jeez. So, me eating that would actually make you feel better?”

You considered it. “Yes.”

He sighed, grabbed the lime, and bit into it like it was an apple.

You hit record.

The first chew was immediate regret. His whole face contorted.

“Oh my God,” he choked. “This is so bad.”

“Keep going,” you said sternly.

He made an inhuman noise, but complied. Juice dripped down his chin; his eyes watered. You zoomed in mercilessly.

“If you spit it out, I’m pinching you,” you reminded him.

“Y-you’re a sadist,” he managed around a mouthful of citrus and peel.

You bit back a smile. “You ruined my book. Actions have consequences.”

He powered through the last bite like a man on a mission. When he finally swallowed, he collapsed back against the couch, grimacing like he’d just seen God.

You stopped recording.

“Happy?” he croaked.

You set your phone down and, almost without thinking, reached over to pat his head, fingers brushing through his damp hair.

He went very still.

“Yes,” you said simply.

Then you stood, grabbed your book, and headed toward the door.

“Wait,” he called after you, voice faintly hoarse. “You’re just… leaving?”

“You served your sentence,” you replied over your shoulder. “You’re free to go.”

~

When you stepped back onto the porch, the air seemed brighter somehow. You walked down the steps toward the sand where the others were still gathered in a loose circle.

“Where’s Wonbin?” Jihoon asked immediately, half-joking, half-concerned.

“Alive,” you said. “Unfortunately.”

He relaxed.

A minute later, Wonbin emerged from the house, wiping at his mouth like he could scrub away the taste of citrus.

Everyone stared.

“What happened to you?” one of the guys blurted.

He glanced at you, something sparking in his eyes. “I apologized,” he said solemnly. “And I was forgiven.”

There was a chorus of disbelieving laughter.

Later, as the sun dipped and a cooler breeze rolled in, someone brought out more drinks. You all sprawled in deck chairs and on the porch steps, the sky shifting from orange to purple.

Stories began—about classes, professors, embarrassing moments from freshman year.

Inevitably, the lime incident came up.

“Tell it again,” Jia giggled, already tipsy. “I want to hear it from him.”

“Absolutely not,” Wonbin said.

“Yes,” the group countered.

He sighed dramatically. “Okay. So, I accidentally murdered her book with my foot. May it rest in peace.”

“It’s still alive,” you interjected.

He continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “And in a fit of righteous fury, she dragged me inside by the hair—”

“You deserved that,” you said.

“—and made me eat an entire lime, rind and all, on camera, under threat of violence.”

Mina choked on her drink, laughing. “You did what?”

“Show the video,” someone yelled.

You debated for a half-second, then shrugged and pulled it up, passing your phone around.

The porch erupted in screams and cackles as everyone watched his increasingly devastated expressions.

“You’re such a simp,” one of Wonbin’s friends declared between wheezes.

“You really ate the whole thing for her?” Jihoon added, incredulous.

Wonbin took a long swig from his cup, then flicked his eyes to you.

“You have no idea,” he said lightly.

Something in your stomach flipped.

“Y/n,” Jia teased, nudging you. “You look so pleased with yourself.”

You realized you were smiling.

“Because he deserved it,” you said quickly. “Not because—”

“Sure, sure,” she drawled.

You ignored the heat creeping up your neck and took a sip from your own drink.

~

Later, when the crowd started thinning—some people drifting to their rooms, others lying on the couches half-asleep—you headed to bed with Mina.

She changed into her pajamas as you sat on the edge of the bed, fingers picking at a loose thread on the comforter.

“Hey,” you said abruptly. “Do you think he’s… flirting with me?”

Mina paused mid-step. “Wonbin?”

You gave her a look. “No, the other boy I dragged inside by the hair today.”

She climbed into bed opposite you, facing you with interest. “I mean… yeah? I always kind of thought he was.”

You blinked. “What?”

She shrugged. “He only argues with you like that. He remembers everything you say. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. That’s not… nothing.”

You shook your head. “He just likes annoying people.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But don’t you ever feel like there’s… something else?”

Your mind flashed with the image of him looking at you when he’d answered that Truth or Drink question. The way he’d eaten the lime without really fighting back. The way he’d gone quiet for a second when you’d said you’d pretend he didn’t exist.

You swallowed.

“I’ve never even thought about him like that,” you lied.

Mina raised a skeptical brow. “Really? Not even once? He’s literally a campus heartthrob.”

You scoffed. “I have too much self-respect to fall for someone like him.”

She laughed. “You say that like you’re not obsessed with arguing with him.”

“I’m not obsessed,” you protested. “I’m… invested.”

“In what?” she asked gently.

You didn’t have an answer.

Mina sighed, a little dreamy. “I just think it would be cute, that’s all. If you and he actually liked each other, we could go on double dates with him and Jihoon.”

You groaned, flopping back. “I hate you so much right now.”

She turned off the lamp, plunging the room into soft darkness.

“Just think about it,” she murmured.

You stared at the ceiling again, this time with his face stubbornly occupying the space where your thoughts should’ve been.

~

The next morning, you woke up with the distinct feeling of having had a very important dream that you couldn’t quite remember.

It left you unsettled.

Mina’s words replayed in your head as you brushed your teeth, as you pulled on your swimsuit, as you tied your hair up.

If he didn’t like you, would he bother so much?

You thought about every time he’d sought you out. The way he lit up just a little bit more when you threw something back at him. How, even yesterday, when he’d clearly been worried about your wrath over the book, he’d still joked and fumbled his way through that stupid lime challenge.

If he truly didn’t care, he wouldn’t give you all that attention.

An idea slipped in, uninvited and unwelcome—and yet, once there, impossible to shake.

What if you tested it?

You stared at your reflection.

If you pushed, if you turned the tables, if you went as far as you could… would he still be there matching you? Or would he pull away and show you that you’d been right all along—that he was just an asshole who liked to play games?

You dried your hands and made a decision.

If he let you go all the way, you’d know.

And if he didn’t… well. Then at least you’d finally stop wondering.

~

The day unfolded like the one before it, but with one key difference.

You didn’t avoid him.

You sought him out.

At breakfast, you stole the last piece of toast off his plate just as he was reaching for it.

“Hey,” he said, eyebrows shooting up.

“You snooze, you lose,” you replied, biting into it.

His eyes narrowed. “Oh, we’re doing that today.”

“Doing what?” you asked innocently.

He studied you for a long beat, something sharp and curious in his gaze.

“Nothing,” he said at last, a slow grin spreading. “Game on, princess.”

On the beach, you splashed water at him first. When he retaliated, you only went harder, laughing as you ducked under the waves and popped up behind him to push him back down.

You chased him through the shallows, hooked your ankle around his to trip him, shoved him into the water when he least expected it.

He took it all, laughing, eyes bright, like this was the most fun he’d had in ages.

At one point, you climbed onto his back in the water, arms around his shoulders, pushing him under with a victorious whoop.

He surfaced, coughing, hair plastered to his forehead, water streaming down his face.

“You’re actually trying to kill me,” he accused, breathless.

“Maybe I am,” you said, heartbeat thudding oddly at how close your faces were.

He stilled for a fraction of a second, gaze flicking to your mouth and back.

Then he shook his head, swam away, and you followed, relentless.

You could tell he was trying to figure you out.

Good.

~

By mid-afternoon, he was flagging. Even you were starting to feel the burn in your limbs.

“I need a break,” he said finally, pushing wet hair back from his face. “I’m going inside for water before you drown me for real.”

“Coward,” you taunted.

He rolled his eyes, half-smiling, and headed up the beach toward the house.

You watched him go, chest tight with a mix of triumph and something you didn’t want to name.

Then you followed.

The kitchen was cool and bright when you stepped in, the buzz of the fridge loud in the quiet.

Wonbin stood by the counter, back to you, gulping from a bottle of water. He set it down with a sigh, bracing his hands on the countertop, head hanging for a moment like he was trying to pull himself together.

You leaned in the doorway, watching him.

He must’ve sensed you, because he spoke without turning around.

“If you came to drown me in the sink,” he said, voice a little rough, “you’re going to have to wait until I catch my breath.”

You pushed off the doorframe and padded into the kitchen, water still dripping from your hair onto the tile.

“Did you think I was done with you?” you asked softly.

He straightened and turned, eyes widening slightly when he saw how close you were.

“…Honestly?” he said. “Yeah. I was kind of hoping.”

There was a strain in his expression now, a tension in his shoulders. You noticed the way his fingers curled into the counter’s edge, the way his throat worked as he swallowed.

“What more could you possibly do to me today?” he asked, reaching absently for the fruit bowl. He picked up a lemon, holding it up as a joke, a crooked smile on his lips. “I’ll just go ahead and eat this if it means you’ll give me a break.”

You stared at him for a long moment, that same mix of amusement and something hotter pooling low in your stomach.

A laugh slipped out of you, surprised and genuine.

“You’re pathetic,” you said, stepping closer. “I didn’t expect you to give up so easily.”

His smile faltered, something raw flickering in his gaze.

“If you’re trying to give me a taste of my own medicine,” he said quietly, “you’re not playing fair at all.”

You tilted your head. “Unlike you, irking people isn’t really my thing,” you replied. “So I’m sorry if you don’t think it’s fair.”

Your apology didn’t sound very apologetic.

He studied you like he was memorizing you, eyes moving from your damp lashes to the droplets clinging to your collarbone.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “That’s kind of what I’m afraid of.”

You felt something in the air between you shift, going denser, charged.

He was still holding the lemon.

It looked stupid between his fingers, bright yellow and harmless, like this was just another one of your stupid games.

Except it didn’t feel like a game anymore.

You could hear the faint thump of music through the walls, the muffled crash of waves outside. In here, though, it was just you and him and the hum of the fridge.

“You’re pathetic,” you repeated, softer now, watching the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

His hand tightened around the lemon until his knuckles paled. “And yet you still haven’t told me what this is,” he said quietly. “You flipped the script on me and didn’t give me a reason. Why?”

You swallowed, forcing yourself not to look away.

“Why don’t you tell me?” you countered. “You’re the one who’s always analyzing me, right? High and mighty princess, too proud for anyone. Isn’t that what you said?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You remember that?”

You scoffed. “Of course I do. You think I forget every little jab you throw?”

His gaze flicked over your face, lingering on your mouth. “No,” he said slowly. “I guess you don’t forget anything.”

Silence stretched between you, dense and prickly.

He set the lemon down with a dull thud and straightened, like he was bracing himself.

“Look,” he exhaled, “if this is you trying to get back at me for… whatever, congratulations. I’m officially off-balance.” A humorless little smile tugged at his lips. “You win. Again. So what now?”

You stepped into his space before you could overthink it.

Up close, he smelled like salt and sunscreen and something warmer underneath. His chest rose and fell a little too fast.

“Now,” you said, tilting your head, “I keep going until I figure you out.”

His voice dropped. “You think you don’t already know me?”

You searched his eyes. There was the usual teasing spark there, but underneath it… something else. Something you’d been carefully ignoring.

“I think,” you said slowly, “I know the version of you that likes pissing me off.”

“And?” he prompted, barely above a whisper.

“And I want to see what happens when I stop letting you hide behind that,” you finished.

His breath hitched.

For the first time since you’d met him, he didn’t have a comeback ready. No joke, no deflection, no smug little jab.

Just you, reflected back in his eyes, closer than you’d ever let yourself be.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he said at last, voice rough. “All of this. The toast, the water, drowning me, dragging me around like I’m your personal punching bag—”

“You like it,” you cut in.

He huffed out an incredulous laugh. “That’s the problem.”

Heat crept up your neck. “So you admit it.”

He looked down at you, something resigned and fond and exasperated all tangled together.

“Y/n,” he said softly, and your stomach flipped at the way your name sounded in his mouth. “I’ve been admitting it in every stupid way except actually saying it out loud.”

Your heartbeat stuttered.

He let out a breath, almost like he was tired of holding something in.

“You’re right,” he said. “I do think you’re a high and mighty princess sometimes. You overthink everything. You act like liking anybody is… beneath you.” His mouth twisted. “And still, I keep ending up where you are. Every party, every group hang, every stupid beach game. I look for you first. Even when I know you’re just going to roll your eyes and insult me.”

Your fingers curled at your sides, suddenly unsteady.

“You’re not special,” you said, but it came out too thin.

He smiled faintly. “I don’t do this with anyone else.”

You hated how that landed in your chest.

“Then why make fun of me?” you demanded, clinging to the familiar ground of irritation. “Why call me princess and talk about my ‘personality’ like you’re writing a character study?”

He shrugged one shoulder, eyes never leaving yours. “Because if I didn’t, I’d end up flirting with you like everyone else does. And you’d hate that even more.”

You opened your mouth to argue—and stopped.

Would you?

Or was that just what you’d been telling yourself?

“Say something,” he murmured, a hint of nervousness finally bleeding through. “You’re freaking me out.”

You swallowed, throat dry.

“So,” you said carefully, “all the picking on me, all the stupid nicknames, all the times you went out of your way to get on my nerves—”

“Were me being a coward,” he cut in. “Because if I didn’t turn it into a joke, it was going to be obvious.”

“Obvious that you… what?”

He held your gaze, no more room to run.

“That I like you,” he said simply.

The words dropped between you, so plain and serious they didn’t feel real.

You forgot how to breathe for a second.

Something inside you that had been coiled tight for months—maybe years—snapped.

“Then why,” you said slowly, “do you keep acting like an asshole?”

He let out a strained laugh. “Because you respond to that. Because every time I tried to be normal around you, you’d look at me like I’d grown a second head. You only ever looked straight at me when we were fighting.”

That stung more than you wanted to admit.

You’d given him attention, sure. But only the kind fueled by indignation and pride.

And he’d taken it.

Every scrap.

You realized, abruptly, that you were still standing way too close, your bodies only inches apart, his damp skin a line of heat in front of you.

You realized you’d walked him all the way out here, into this quiet, empty kitchen, with some vague plan to “test” him—as if he hadn’t been showing you his answer this whole time.

You realized you weren’t actually sure, anymore, which one of you was the bigger coward.

Your voice came out smaller than you expected. “If I stop making it a joke… what then?”

He searched your face, and whatever he found there made his expression soften.

“Then,” he said, “you can stop pretending you hate me.”

You bristled on instinct. “I never said—”

He stepped closer, close enough that his chest brushed yours when he inhaled.

“You never had to,” he said quietly. “You act like you do. But you don’t avoid me. You don’t shut me down. You don’t walk away when you could.”

His hand lifted, hesitated, then settled very carefully at your hip, fingertips barely pressing into the damp fabric of your swimsuit.

You felt it like a brand.

“If you actually hated me,” he continued, “you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Your pulse roared in your ears.

A part of you wanted to shove him away, toss out some cutting remark, push everything back into the safe territory of banter.

Another part of you—annoyingly loud—wanted to see what happened if you didn’t.

You heard your own voice before you fully decided.

“What if I’m here to keep testing how far you’ll let me go?” you asked, low.

His grip at your hip tightened, just barely.

“Then I should probably tell you,” he murmured, “that you’re playing with fire.”

“Maybe I want to know if you’ll burn me,” you said.

He exhaled a shaky laugh. “You’re unreal.”

You lifted your chin, stubborn. “Are you going to stop me?”

His eyes darkened.

“No,” he admitted. “I’m not.”

That was all the permission you needed.

You slid your hand up, fingers finding the damp skin at the back of his neck. He shivered under your touch.

He was watching you so intently it made your stomach swoop.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you lied, even as your thumb brushed the soft hair at his nape. “I’m just… curious.”

“Sure,” he said, voice gone rough. “Just curiosity.”

You hated how gentle he sounded. You hated how much you liked it.

“Say you’re not going to be weird about it,” you demanded, because control was the only thing you had left.

He huffed out a breath. “You’re about to do something reckless and I’m the one who can’t be weird?”

“Wonbin,” you warned.

His mouth curved. “Fine. I won’t be weird.”

He paused.

“Unless you want me to be,” he added under his breath.

You didn’t give yourself time to react to that.

You tugged him down and kissed him.

For a second, he just… froze.

You almost pulled back, panic clawing up your throat.

Then he exhaled a sound somewhere between a groan and your name, and everything tilted.

His hand at your hip tightened, dragging you flush against him. His other hand came up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing your cheekbone as his mouth moved against yours like he’d been waiting for this for a long, long time.

Heat flared low in your stomach, sharp and intoxicating.

He kissed like he argued—confident, unyielding, intent on pushing you just that little bit further than you meant to go.

Except this time, you didn’t mind losing.

Your fingers knotted in the damp hair at the back of his head, holding him there as you deepened the kiss. He made another low sound that went straight through you.

You felt him smile against your mouth.

“Still pretending you hate me?” he murmured between breaths.

“Shut up,” you whispered, and kissed him again to make sure he did.

He obeyed, but his hand slid from your jaw down the line of your throat, lingering over the rapid flutter of your pulse like he was memorizing it.

You’d meant to keep control. You’d meant to test him.

Somehow, without you noticing, he’d taken over.

You broke away first, breathing hard, lips tingling. His forehead rested against yours, eyes closed like he was trying to steady himself.

You could feel the solid press of his body against yours, every line of him warm and real and entirely too much.

“Say something smug,” you managed, voice unsteady. “Get it over with.”

His lashes lifted. He looked at you like you’d put the sun in his hands and then told him not to drop it.

“I’m trying not to scare you off,” he said quietly. “For once.”

Your chest did something unhelpful.

“This doesn’t make us… anything,” you said, clinging to the last of your defenses. “We’re still—”

“Enemies?” he supplied, amused.

You scowled automatically. “I was going to say ‘not whatever you’re thinking.’”

He hummed, thumb tracing idle circles at your hip.

“I’m thinking,” he said slowly, “that you’re going to overthink this to death if I give you any room. So how about this.”

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“For now,” he murmured, “we keep it between us. No labels. No big talks. Just you and me, seeing what happens when you stop pretending you don’t want me.”

You shivered.

“You’re very sure of yourself,” you said, but it came out breathless.

“Not really,” he admitted softly. “I’m just sure I’m not done with you yet.”

Your fingers tightened at the back of his neck.

“You’re insufferable,” you whispered.

His smile grazed your cheek.

“And yet,” he said, “you’re still holding on.”

You realized you were.

You didn’t let go.

~

You were still pressed up against the counter, his hand firm at your hip, your fingers tangled in his hair, when the sound of the front door opening sliced through the haze.

The two of you froze.

You heard the familiar tune of a song being hummed. 

Jia.

You and Wonbin sprang apart so fast you almost slipped on the tile.

He caught your elbow on instinct, steadying you. You glared at him like this was his fault, which, to be fair, a good chunk of it was.

You yanked your T‑shirt from the back of a chair and shoved it over your head, trying to smooth your hair with shaking fingers. Your lips still tingled; you could feel his gaze flick down to them and dart away.

Jia rounded the corner a second later, sunglasses perched atop her head and a water bottle in hand.

She looked between the two of you, taking in your flushed faces, your slightly crooked shirt, Wonbin missing one entirely.

Her brows climbed. “What were you two doing?”

You opened your mouth. Nothing came out.

“Staring contest,” Wonbin blurted.

You turned to stare at him. Staring contest?

Jia blinked. “Staring contest.”

He snatched the forgotten lemon off the counter and held it up like a prop. “Yeah, we, uh… challenged each other. Loser gets this squirted in their eye.”

You wanted to die.

Jia’s gaze slid to you, suspicious. “Well, am I interrupting?”

You crossed your arms, willing your heartbeat to slow. “No,” you said, forcing an eye roll. “He’s just being dramatic because he lost and he’s scared.”

Wonbin nodded too fast. “So dramatic. I’m traumatized.”

Jia narrowed her eyes, then smirked. “You two are weird,” she said. “Anyway, are you coming back out? We’re about to start a card game and Mina’s trying to cheat already.”

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Just… getting water.”

She shrugged and padded back toward the porch, humming under her breath.

The moment she disappeared, you rounded on Wonbin.

“‘Staring contest?” you hissed.

He winced, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I panicked.”

“You’re an idiot,” you muttered.

He smiled faintly, the edges still a little dazed. “You’re shaking,” he said quietly.

You realized your hands were still trembling. You smoothed out your shirt calmly. “It’s cold in here,” you lied.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Right.”

From outside, someone shouted your name, followed by Mina’s whiney “Hurry uuuup!”

You took a step toward the door, putting space between you.

“We should go,” you said.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

You didn’t look at him as you slid the door open.

You felt his eyes on the back of your neck all the way out to the porch.

~

Back on the beach, it was like nothing had happened.

At least, that was how you were determined to act.

You plopped down on your towel, book in your lap, the text blurring as your mind replayed the last half hour on a loop.

The way his voice had gone quiet when he’d said I like you.
The way he’d eaten the lime just because it made you happy.
The way his hands had settled on you—not possessive, not cocky, just certain.

You’d come into this trip with the absolute conviction that he was an obnoxious flirt who cared more about reactions than people.

He had… not behaved like that.

You’d taunted him, tested him, tried to shake him. He’d let you drag him inside, let you punish him, let you push him around in the water. He’d confessed first. He’d tried, in his own backwards way, to make it less scary for you.

Unconventional methods, you thought, a little hysterical. But he got what he wanted.

He wanted you to take him seriously. And now, annoyingly, it was working.

You watched him from the corner of your eye as he mingled with the others—laughing at some joke from Jihoon, reaching for a drink, moving through the group with his usual easy charm.

Except now you could see all the ways his attention slid back to you, subtle as he thought he was being. A glance when someone mentioned your name. The way his smile shifted, softer, when your eyes accidentally met.

The new weight of those looks made your skin prickle.

You were hooked.

You didn’t want to be. You could feel your pride protesting, scrambling for excuses. You barely knew how to navigate people you liked normally, let alone someone you’d built an entire personality around disliking.

But the idea of this new version of him—of you and him—clung to you like salt.

Foreign. Fascinating.

Terrifying.

Throughout the evening, you both pretended.

Mina dragged you into a card game; you lost horribly and accused her of conspiring with Jihoon. Jia did a run to the kitchen for snacks and came back with enough junk food to feed a small army. Someone put on music, and there was a brief, chaotic attempt at a dance party in the living room.

Wonbin was never far, but never too close. He’d sit across the circle, leaning back against the couch, legs stretched out. He’d call you out when you tried to cheat, tease you when you lost, roll his eyes when you rolled yours.

On the surface, it was the same old script.

Underneath, everything had changed.

Every time your knees brushed under the low table, your heart jumped. Every time you glanced up and found him already looking, your stomach swooped.

He didn’t push. Didn’t corner you, didn’t say anything loaded in front of the others.

He just kept catching your gaze and holding it a second too long, the corners of his mouth softening like there was some shared joke hanging between you that no one else could see.

By the time people started drifting toward their rooms, the sky outside was ink‑dark and your head felt pleasantly fuzzy from sun and laughter and one too many drinks.

You yawned, stretching your arms over your head.

“I’m actually dead,” Jia groaned from the couch. “If I don’t sleep twelve hours, I’ll pass away.”

“You say that every night,” Mina said, but she sounded tired too.

You gathered your things—phone, book, a hoodie someone had abandoned—and headed toward the hallway.

You’d almost made it to your bedroom door when a hand appeared above your shoulder, pressing lightly against the wall just beside it.

You stopped short.

“Relax,” Wonbin said softly, stepping into the narrow space between you and the wall.

Your back was inches from the door; his chest was inches from yours. It felt like that kitchen all over again, but this time the hall was darker, quieter, the only light coming from the strip under the living room door.

Your pulse jumped.

“We’re in a hallway,” you hissed. “Anyone could see.”

He hummed. “That sounds familiar.”

You shot him a look. “Don’t start.”

He didn’t. Not with words, anyway.

His fingers brushed yours, just a ghost of a touch, then slid against your palm, offering. Without thinking, you let your hand fall into his. He squeezed once, like he couldn’t help it.

The simple contact made your throat go dry.

“Y/n,” he said quietly.

You hated how much warmer your name sounded from him now.

“What?” you whispered.

He leaned down, his breath brushing your ear. “I’d like to continue where we left off,” he murmured. “Before we were so rudely interrupted.”

Heat shot through you.

You fought to keep your voice steady. “You’re impatient.”

He laughed under his breath. “I’ve been patient for months.”

You stilled. “Months?”

He pulled back just enough for you to see his face. There was no smugness there, no joke. Just that open, slightly vulnerable look from the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he said simply. “You’re just finally letting me do something about it.”

Your heart did something traitorous.

You swallowed. “If we do this now, someone will catch us,” you said, trying to be rational. “Do you know how thin these walls are? If Mina walks in and sees—”

He cut you off with a tiny grin. “I can work something out.”

“That’s not comforting,” you muttered.

He squeezed your hand again, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Just… don’t fall asleep too early,” he said. “Okay?”

You gave him a flat look. “That’s your master plan?”

“For now.” His smile tilted, equal parts mischief and promise. “Trust me.”

You opened your mouth to tell him you absolutely did not trust him.

Instead, you heard yourself say, “Fine.”

His grin went feral.

“I won’t need that long,” he said.

The implication made your face heat. You slapped his chest lightly. “Be serious.”

“We’ll see,” he replied, and then he was backing away, disappearing down the hall with a soft, “Goodnight, princess,” tossed over his shoulder.

Your skin buzzed long after he was gone.

~

You’d barely had time to wash your face, brush your teeth, and pull on an oversized sleep shirt before Mina burst into the room, squealing.

You jumped, nearly stabbing your eye with your hairbrush.

“What?” you demanded.

Mina bounced onto the bed, clutching her phone like it was a winning lottery ticket.

“He texted me,” she half‑whispered, half‑screeched.

You blinked, heart lurching for reasons that had nothing to do with her. “Who?”

She gave you a look. “Jihoon, obviously.”

Of course. Jihoon, who shared a room with Wonbin.

Your pulse picked up for a completely different reason.

“What did he say?” you asked, trying to sound normal.

Mina thrust the phone at you. A message glowed on the screen:

Jihoon 🏄‍♂️: hey, you still awake?
Jihoon 🏄‍♂️: come to my room? we can talk without everyone yelling over each other lol

Mina kicked her feet like a teenager in a drama. “Talk, he says,” she giggled. “Do you think he means… talk?”

You thought about Wonbin’s face in the hallway. I can work something out.

You swallowed a laugh that was half nerves. “Only one way to find out,” you said.

Mina flopped back dramatically. “But what if it’s weird? What if I go and he’s like, ‘So anyway, about this group project from freshman year—’”

“Mina,” you cut in gently. “You’ve been flirting for months. He’s not calling you in there to discuss academic policy.”

She covered her face with a pillow, muffling a scream. “I’m gonna throw up.”

“You are not,” you said, prying the pillow away. “You’re going to go in there, hang out, and if at any point you’re uncomfortable, you pretend you’re sleepy and leave. Simple.”

She peered up at you. “You really think I should go?”

Guilt and excitement warred in your chest.

Because you knew exactly why this invitation had materialized at this particular moment.

You also knew how badly Mina wanted this.

“Yes,” you said firmly. “Go.”

Mina squealed again, launched off the bed, and scrambled to fix her hair in the mirror.

“You’re a good friend,” she said, slapping on lip balm.

You forced a smile. “Obviously.”

When she finally squeezed you in a quick hug and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click, the silence that followed throbbed with anticipation.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the door.

He wouldn’t actually…

A knock sounded, barely a minute later.

You jumped.

“Y/n?” came the low voice from the other side.

You exhaled, heart hammering. “You’re insane,” you muttered, standing.

You cracked the door open just enough to see him. The hallway behind him was empty, dim.

Before you could get a single word of scolding out, he shouldered his way in, kicked the door shut with his heel, and his mouth was on yours.

All the arguments you’d been lining up evaporated.

He kissed you like he’d been thinking about it every second since the kitchen—no tentative testing this time, no caution. Just heat and relief and a kind of hungry determination that made your knees go weak.

You made a sound into his mouth, half protest, mostly something else.

“I was going to yell at you,” you mumbled when you managed to breathe.

He laughed against your lips. “You can yell at me later,” he said, already chasing another kiss. “I’ll even let you win.”

“You used my best friend as a distraction,” you accused, even as your hands were already fisting in his shirt.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and serious in the low light.

“Do you really think I’d set her up with some guy who wasn’t going to treat her right?” he asked softly. “I’m not the only one who’s been waiting.”

That shut you up.

He watched your expression flicker, something like understanding settling in.

Then his gaze dropped to your mouth again.

“Can we get back to the part where you were doing that thing with your hands?” he asked, voice going rough.

You huffed. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” he said. “You’re the one who decided you like me anyway.”

You hated how true that felt.

You grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him closer.

This time, nothing slowed you down.

Your fingers threaded through his hair, just like he had wanted, lips moving against his, rushed and heated. He made a disgruntled noise, pulling your waist toward him, leaving no space between you. Your bodies were hot and buzzing with a tension that was ready to tip over the edge. 

Both of you stumbled backward, clumsily dropping onto the bed. Wonbin was quick to hoist you up, climbing over you while pulling your shirt clean off your body. He gave you no time to feel conscious of your nakedness, fingers cupping the swell of your breasts as his thigh slotted between your legs. 

Something burned, low in the pit of your stomach. You arched your back into his touch, inviting him for more. His tongue slid over yours deliberately, making your toes curl. You dragged your mouth away just long enough to suck in a breath. He chased you, lips landing at the corner of your mouth, your cheek, the hinge of your jaw.

Your head fell back, a helpless sound escaping you as his mouth found a spot under your ear, teeth scraping lightly.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured against your skin. “You have no idea.”

“Prove it,” you breathed, voluntarily reaching to slip your underwear off. 

“Fuck, y/n.”

Wonbin sat up just enough to take you in completely. A drunken expression washed over his face. His lips were glistening, eager hands tracing your thighs, trailing down your legs. He couldn’t decide what he wanted to do to you first. You could see the impatience in his eyes.  

You felt it too.

He started by rolling his tongue over your nipples. They were hard and sensitive. He sucked and released them with a salacious pop, the sound making your head spin. 

You sensed him moving away from you yet again, but this time you weren’t going to let it happen. You rose with him, fingers hooking into the hem of his shirt, urging him to shrug it off. 

As his shirt fell to the floor, you kissed him hard, digging your palms into his firm shoulders. 

“Pants too,” you followed. 

In this moment, to you, he was absolutely irresistible. 

He groaned in accordance and pushed his shorts down in one swift motion. You could see how uncomfortably tight his boxers looked. Your hands went there instantly, teasing, exploring.

Wonbin bit your lip in protest as he fell back over you. Feeling his weight on top of you made your heart hammer wildly in your chest. 

Before you could think, the words rolled off your tongue like they had been sitting there forever. 

“Fuck me. Now.” 

The moisture between your legs was an indication enough that you were ready for him. And you knew exactly where he stood. 

He fumbled with his boxers, and you gasped when his cock pulsed against your pussy. His eyes watched you carefully as he slowly entered you, fighting to remain focused the deeper his cock went. 

It stole your breath away. 

Your eyes rolled back, head falling slack against the pillow you were lying on.

He started slowly, hips moving steadily, as if he were savoring the feeling before he let greed take control. 

You were so warm and so tight. Wonbin sucked in a sharp breath, speeding up ever so slightly. 

He left a hand planted by your ear, the other cupping your neck, thumb sliding over your throat, where he felt the shallow reverberations of your quiet moans. 

He leaned in closer, needing to hear more. 

Maybe it was because you remembered where you were, or maybe because he was tapping into a part of your subconscious you never thought would surface, but Wonbin couldn’t stand that you were holding yourself back.

 His hips jerked forward, the movement harsh. 

“Fuck,” you exclaimed, and he did it again, the faintest smirk painting his parted lips. 

His thumb traced your lip as he began fucking you harder. You let it slip into your mouth, sucking desperately. That only spurred him on further.

“Oh, princess,” he moaned, his pace unrelenting. He was pounding into you now. “You feel so good.” 

Even though your mouth was occupied, urgent whines spilled from you. There was no stopping them. 

Wonbin pulled his thumb away so that he could hear you unobstructed. Even you were shocked by just how loud you were. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had made you feel like this. 

No one had come close.

“Say my name.” 

You gave in, though it wasn’t easy, sputtering his name between labored breaths. It drove him mad. He didn’t want to hear anything else. 

You felt his temple press against your cheek, a thin layer of sweat lining his skin. Your fingers curled into his hair, holding him close so that his hot breath tickled your neck. 

He was close. Even if he finished now, he knew he wasn’t done with you yet. He needed more. 

He was fast to pull out of you. Seconds later, his cum was dripping onto your stomach, warm and cloudy. His groans, deep and raspy, were invigorating. 

Your chest rose and fell vehemently. He let his cock slide against your pussy, softer now, but still bold. 

Wonbin turned you on your side and fell into place behind you, his strong chest pressed to your back. Instinctively, you bent your knees and pushed your ass against his cock, feeling the blood gradually rush back into it as he splayed wet kisses over your shoulder. 

“One more time,” he whispered into your ear, raising your leg so he could slip right back into you. His other arm wrapped around your chest, fingers pinching your breasts and nipples. 

You craned your neck around, lips searching for his. They found yours earnestly, his kisses messy and fervent. 

As if he had never stopped, he started again. 

~

Later, with your clothes scattered on the floor and the room dim and quiet around you, you lay on your back staring at the ceiling, lungs still trying to remember how to function.

Wonbin’s arm was draped over your waist, his chest warm and solid against your side. His breathing was a little uneven too.

Silence stretched, full but not uncomfortable.

“We’re dead if Mina comes back early,” you said eventually, voice low.

He hummed. “We’ll hear her.”

You weren’t so sure.

He must’ve seen the doubt on your face, because he sighed and pushed himself up on one elbow.

“Fine,” he said. “We’ll check.”

He grabbed his discarded shorts from the floor and dragged them on, hair a mess, skin still flushed. You pulled your shirt back over your head, heart doing that annoying jumpy thing again at the sudden domestic mundanity of it.

He cracked the door open carefully, peering into the hallway.

You eased up beside him, peeking over his shoulder.

From down the hall, muffled and unmistakable, came a breathy, stifled laugh followed by a low male voice you recognized as Jihoon’s.

You both froze.

“Yeah,” Wonbin said quietly. “She’s not coming back.”

You covered your face with one hand, equal parts mortified and relieved. “I did not need to know that.”

He shut the door again, locking it this time for good measure.

When he turned back, he was smiling.

“So,” he said, climbing back onto the bed beside you. “I can stay?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You can stay as long as you’re gone before Mina wakes up,” you warned. “If she sees you here, we’re both dead.”

“Noted.” He settled beside you, arm sliding back around your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You hesitated a second, then let yourself relax into him, head finding his shoulder.

The room felt smaller now, cozier somehow. The ocean’s constant shush filtered through the walls; someone laughed faintly in another part of the house. Here, everything felt oddly still.

“So,” you said, staring at the shadowy outline of his hand on your stomach. “What now?”

He was quiet for a moment, thumb drawing idle patterns on your side.

“When we get back to the city,” he said finally, “I want to take you out.”

You blinked. “Out?”

“On a date,” he clarified. “Like, a real one. Food, maybe a movie, me pretending I’m not already stupid about you.”

Your heart lurched.

“Confident,” you muttered.

He huffed a laugh. “Terrified, actually.”

You turned your head to look at him. In the soft half‑dark, he didn’t look like the overconfident flirt you’d built up in your mind. He just looked… young. Hopeful. A little scared.

“Why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

“Because,” he said slowly, “you’ve spent this entire time convinced that you’re too good for me. And I don’t want you to wake up one day and decide you were right.”

That knocked the air out of you more than any kiss had.

You stared at him, throat tight.

“You really think I’m that horrible?” you asked quietly.

His eyes widened. “No. God, no. I think you’re… picky. And proud. And terrified of being wrong about people. Big difference.”

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“I also think,” he added, softer now, “that you’re the smartest person in any room we’re in, and that you make me want to be less of a dumbass. For whatever that’s worth.”

You swallowed around a lump in your throat.

“Don’t say things like that,” you muttered. “It makes it hard to keep my guard up.”

“That’s kind of the point,” he said.

You glared at the ceiling so you wouldn’t have to look at him for a second.

“What if I say no?” you asked. “To the date.”

He exhaled, not dramatically, just honestly. “Then I’ll be disappointed. And I’ll try really hard not to be weird about it.”

“You’re bad at not being weird,” you pointed out.

“Yeah,” he said. “But I’d still try.”

You were quiet for a beat.

“Okay,” you said finally.

He frowned. “Okay what?”

“Okay, you can take me out,” you said, staring resolutely at the ceiling. “Once. We’ll see how insufferable you are in public.”

There was a pause. Then his arm tightened around you.

“Deal,” he said, voice a little too bright.

You wanted to say you regretted it already.

You didn’t.

“Go to sleep,” you grumbled instead.

“Yes, princess,” he said.

You elbowed him lightly. He just laughed and pressed a quick, soft kiss to the top of your head, like he’d done it a thousand times.

Your heart did that stupid thing again.

You drifted off eventually, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you under.

~

When you woke up, the other side of the bed was empty.

For a split second, panic flared. Then you saw the indentation in the pillow, the faint warmth left on the sheets, and heard the sound of running water from the bathroom.

The door opened a moment later and Mina emerged in a cloud of steam, towel wrapped around her hair.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” she said, grinning.

You squinted at her, brain still booting up. “Why are you so cheerful?”

She wiggled her brows. “We both seem to have had a good night.”

Your heart stuttered. “What?”

She crossed to her suitcase, digging for clothes. “I didn’t get back until, like, four,” she said happily. “And when I finally snuck in, you were starfished across the whole bed like a corpse. Out cold. And there was someonestuck underneath you.”

She shot you a pointed look and winked.

Heat rushed to your face.

“Well,” you said, scrambling for dignity, “he had to sleep somewhere.”

She snorted. “Uh‑huh. Sure.”

You ducked your head, hiding a smile.

“Anyway,” she continued, pulling on a T‑shirt, “we have to be out by eleven, so start packing, lover girl.”

You threw a pillow at her. She dodged, cackling.

The morning blurred into organized chaos.

Everyone moved through the house with that particular end‑of‑trip energy—tired but wired, arms full of bags and leftover snacks, calling dibs on who got which shower.

You caught only flashes of Wonbin: him hauling a suitcase down the stairs, him laughing at something one of his friends said, him helping Jihoon wrestle with an overstuffed duffel.

His eyes found yours once, across the living room.

He didn’t wink or smirk. He just smiled, a small, private thing that made your chest feel too tight.

You looked away first, cheeks warm.

The driveway was a jumble of cars and people as everyone loaded their luggage.

Jia slammed the trunk of your car shut. “Shotgun,” she declared.

“You had shotgun on the way here,” Mina protested.

Jihoon wandered over, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, actually,” he said, “Mina, do you… want to ride with us?”

Mina’s face lit up like someone had flipped a switch. “Yeah,” she said, a little too quickly. Then she glanced at you, checking.

You swallowed a grin. “Go,” you said. “Jia and I will survive.”

She squealed, hugged you briefly, then scurried off toward Jihoon’s car.

“Traitor,” Jia muttered, but she was smiling. 

Then, something dawned on you. “But doesn’t that mean someone from their car’s gotta switch with us?”

“I can switch cars,” Wonbin offered.

You whipped around. “No.”

Everyone looked at you.

You cleared your throat. “I mean, that’s not necessary,” you amended. “We’re fine.”

He sauntered closer, hands in his pockets, looking annoyingly unbothered. “It’s either me or one of the guys who sings off‑key to the same three songs the entire drive,” he pointed out. “I’m taking one for the team here.”

Jia clasped her hands dramatically. “Wow, what a hero,” she said.

You glared at him. He met your eyes, amusement flickering there.

“I promise I’ll sleep the whole way,” he added, more for the group’s benefit than yours. “You won’t even know I’m there.”

“Bold promise,” Jia said. “You snore?”

“If he snores,” you cut in, “I’ll suffocate him.”

“See?” he said cheerfully. “Group safety and accountability.”

The others laughed, already moving toward their cars.

Somehow, Jia ended up in the driver’s seat with you in the back and Wonbin sliding right next to you like this was the most normal thing in the world.

He leaned back, buckled in, and pulled one of the spare jackets from the back, tossing it over himself like a makeshift blanket.

“Wake me when we’re halfway,” he said lightly.

You rolled your eyes as Jia started the engine. “If you drool on my shoulder—”

“You’ll what?” he asked, eyes half‑lidded.

You hesitated. “Make you eat another lime,” you said.

He grinned, then let his head rest back against the seat, eyes sliding shut.

The first stretch of highway was quiet.

Jia put on a podcast episode almost immediately, mumbling something about catching up on her playlist. The hum of the car, the rush of wind, and the distant sound of waves fading in the rearview mirror created a weirdly soothing backdrop.

Wonbin stayed still beside you, eyes closed, jacket pulled up to his chest.

You focused on the cars outside, knuckles gripping a little too tightly on your seatbelt.

You were acutely aware of how close his knee was to yours. Of the way his hair fell a little into his eyes. Of the faint marks you’d left on his collarbone peeking out from his T‑shirt neck.

You told yourself he really had fallen asleep.

Then you felt it.

His fingers, sliding under the edge of the jacket, found your thigh.

You nearly screamed.

He didn’t grab, didn’t squeeze. Just rested his hand there, warm and solid, thumb brushing the inside of your leg in a slow, barely‑there stroke that made your breath catch.

From the front seat, Jia hummed in agreement along to something from the podcast.

You darted a glance sideways.

Wonbin’s eyes were still closed, lashes resting on his cheeks. The picture of innocence.

“You’re not sleeping,” you muttered under your breath.

His mouth twitched. “I’m resting my eyes,” he said quietly.

“You should try being more slick,” you hissed.

“And you should take a chill pill,” he replied.

You wanted to smack him.

Instead, your iron-clad grip on the seatbelt faltered for a moment—just long enough to slide the jacket closer on your lap. You let your hand meet his underneath.

His fingers stilled, then laced with yours.

You squeezed, once.

He squeezed back.

A slow, helpless smile tugged at your lips as the miles stretched ahead, the road unspooling toward the city and whatever came next.

You’d come on this trip determined to prove he was exactly who you thought he was.

Turns out, you’d been wrong.

And for the first time, that didn’t feel like a loss.

It felt like the start of something.

You kept your eyes on the road, his hand warm in yours beneath the jacket, and let yourself be a little bit excited about the new beginning waiting for you on the other side of the drive.

[smidare]

long haired fuma. i am so in love with you.

[hwrtoni]

oh i’m CRAZY right now give me time to recover