[ohmytyong-recs]

ꗃ𖠵 welcome to ohmytyong's library ꜝꜝ

໑ this is my sideblog where i'll be reblogging fics i've read and loved <3

໑ i will mostly reblog works that contain nsfw content - so if you're a minor, i would kindly ask you not to interact

໑ i only read (and will reblog) nct, riize and seventeen fics

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

𖤣 nct blog | 𖤣 riize blog | 𖤣 masterlist

[anashins]

What Are You Wearing?

Pairing: idol!Jaehyun x corporate!reader

Genre: fluff, romance, smut, phone sex

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Your boyfriend is currently on a tour overseas and calls you right in the middle of a meeting, because he has certain needs he asks you to tend to - even from the other side of the world.

A/N: I'm a long distance girlie and I got you all other long distance girlies or those who long to be one in their dreams 💓

"WHAT?!" you typed into your phone, eyes darting between the text your boyfriend had sent and the familiar faces in the online meeting, all staring at you from your laptop screen and expecting an answer to a question that you had somehow forgotten altogether.

"Could you please elaborate on your problem, especially the last part, so that I can provide the most helpful answer?"

You feigned professionalism to breeze past your embarrassing inattention, but the truth was that even when one of the meeting participants repeated every word with even more detail about their struggles, all you could hear was background noise as another question seemed to materialize before your eyes:

"What are you wearing?"

The exact same words had thrown you so completely off balance that you had suddenly forgotten what this entire meeting was about. Breaking eye contact with the team as little as possible and nodding occasionally, you moved your fingers across your phone, hoping to hit the right keys and praying that auto correct would have mercy on you as you replied to your boyfriend:

"Not now"

Somehow, you still felt your cheeks flush and could only hope that nobody would notice through the camera. Jaehyun was currently on a short overseas tour, and it had already been a week since he left. Every night, before his show started on the other side of the world, you tried to face time for at least ten minutes. Messages were infrequent due to the time difference, but they were always sweet.

"What are you wearing?" Jaehyun texted again.

You remembered. Today was his second day off in a row, so he had a little bit of free time. You took a deep breath in when the person in the meeting finished their explanation, turned your phone upside down, and tried answering their question as best as you could with the little information you had been able to grasp.

You heard your phone buzzing a few more times while doing so, but you tried to ignore it. There were only five minutes left in the meeting, Jaehyun could at least be patient for that long if he really wanted something from you. However, those five minutes felt like an hour as you had to listen to your boss simultaneously praise you and close the meeting.

The moment everyone logged out of the meeting, your reached for your phone with nervous fingers.

"What are you wearing?"

"Send me a picture"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm lying in bed here"

"What are you wearing?"

You nearly choked on your own saliva skimming over the texts. But before you could gather your thoughts on them, Jaehyun's name popped up big on the screen along with the incoming call. You made sure you had entirely logged out of the meeting and checked twice that your camera and microphone were turned off as well.

"What are you wearing?" Jaehyun asked as soon as you picked up.

You heard it rustling on the other side of the line, implying that he was currently lying in bed, just as he had texted you.

"Sleeping in today?" You tried to change the topic, but Jaehyun was persistent.

"Are you working from home?"

"Yes."

He repeated, "What are you wearing?"

"I was in a meeting just now and I actually have to prepare-"

You heard him chuckle. "Now, who is your boss? Your computer or me?"

A sigh escaped your lips. "You, of course."

"Good girl." A chuckle again. "Now, tell me what are you wearing?"

"A white button up and leggings."

"Mm-hm… and underneath?"

A mix of nervousness and anticipation tugged on the corner of your lips. "The red bra that you like so much."

A pause, followed by a deep inhale. "Tell me more."

"I'm still clocked in for work, Jaehyun."

You could feel his wide grin across the wide ocean. "Technically, on this side of the earth, your workday hasn't even started yet."

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. "What do you want me to do?"

"Go to the bedroom."

You briefly checked to ensure all your chats were answered, hoping to increase the odds that nobody would notice your absence for the next ten to fifteen minutes. On your way to follow Jaehyun's instructions, you heard a dull rustling paired with the jingling sound of metal. It seemed he had already discarded his jeans.

You sank back into your pillows, bringing the phone closer to your ear. "I'm on the bed now."

"Good." Jaehyun gulped and lowered his voice. "Take off your pants too. But slowly, so that I can imagine it."

He didn't ask for a video call - as always. You appreciated the fact that he supported you in standing your ground, because you weren't ready for that kind of step yet. It’s not that you weren’t tempted to take these sessions with your boyfriend to the next level whenever he was abroad. But since you had only done it a handful of times so far, you wanted to take it slow - and he was being patient.

"Done," you said, stretching out your legs on top of the blanket before you unbuttoned your shirt upon Jaehyun's next instruction.

"Do your red bra and panties match?"

"Yes."

"Very nice. Now, take off your bra too."

You still felt a bit shy, but kept telling yourself that nobody was watching you, so you should just enjoy the very little time you had with your boyfriend whenever he was on tour.

"Take your time," Jaehyun coaxed you.

A few more moments passed. Then, you hooked your thumb into the right bra strap and pulled it down. You did the same with the other after switching the phone to your opposite hand. Leaning forward slightly, you unclasped the bra at your back and took it completely off.

"Now, I want you to touch your breasts the way I do. Can you do that?"

Of course you could, and you told him.

Your fingers were cold when you touched the skin on the slope of your breast. Goosebumps became slightly visible around the nearby area, but you kept going, knowing that you would soon enough grow used to the sensation. You dragged your fingers upwards until you reached your most sensitive spot.

"Very well," Jaehyun said with a light chuckle, having apparently caught on to the change in your breathing rhythm. "What do you feel?"

You closed your eyes, listening to him talk to you through the phone when you were suddenly hit by a massive wave of longing. "I miss you."

"But I'm right here, aren't I? You can hear my voice, you can feel me. My hands are on your breasts and they wander upwards. You can feel my fingers playing with your nipples and causing you to let out that one sound you always make when you get into the mood… Ah, there it is. Told you so. Good girl."

You gulped and your fingers halted. You hadn't realized how perfectly he could talk you through this, effortlessly taking your mind off your embarrassment and shyness. He could read every single one of your moves, emotions, and tones.

"How do you feel?" Jaehyun asked.

"I feel… good."

"Very well. Do you have your eyes closed?"

"Yes." You knew what usually came next.

"I lower my head and take your nipple between my lips. Keep touching yourself… good. I can hear how much you enjoy it, imagining me doing this to you right now. You'd be running your fingers through my hair and pulling on the strands the moment I start sucking. Are you still with me?… Very well. You can be as loud as you want. I love it."

You kept your eyes closed, because you knew the moment you opened them, it would be hard to get back into the illusion of Jaehyun being right on top of you, settling between your legs and indulging in your breasts as though it were the greatest joy of his life. Instead, you mimicked everything you remembered with your own hands.

"Now, slowly run your fingers down to your stomach."

That was when Jaehyun usually would lean on his side and trace his hand along the middle of your body, past your navel until he reached the waistband of your panties. Following his memory, you did exactly that.

"You're still wearing your panties?"

"… Yes."

"Take them off.."

You put Jaehyun on loudspeaker and placed the phone next to you on the pillow. You slid the small piece of fabric over your bum, using your legs to help discard it entirely by partly tugging and partly kicking it away.

"Done."

You felt exposed rather than completely turned on right now, having opened your eyes after all and watching yourself spread out naked on the bed like this. But seeing the wet stain left on your underwear, you concluded that you were turned on more than you had actually admitted to yourself so far.

"Spread your legs wide," Jaehyun urged. "Tell me how wet you are."

"I'm soaked," you told him, but hadn't dared touching yourself there yet. You significantly felt something moist on the onset of your thighs though.

"Mh-hm… how come?"

"Because I imagine you on top of me."

"What do I do next on top of you?"

"You touch me."

"Where exactly do I touch you? Say it."

"Between my legs."

"Say more."

"You… you place your hand there. And then you… spread me wider, because you know I instinctively want to bring my thighs back together. You then start stroking me. Slowly… at first. To get me used to it."

"Do it."

It wasn't like you had never touched yourself before. It just took you quite a bit of time to find the right movements and angles again, and Jaehyun could tell you were struggling.

"Easy," he calmed you. "Just the thought of you is enough to make me grow. Take your time. Tell me if I can help you with something, I'm patient."

"Tell me about the night we first met."

You both knew exactly what was coming, yet you could hear this story a million times over from him.

"When I first saw you by the bar at the brand's dinner party, I had two thoughts. First: What is this beautiful woman doing here all alone? And second: How long would it take me to get her to my hotel room and strip her out of that sexy black dress - the one that makes me hard just at the thought of imagining what she looks like underneath?"

"So, you wanted me because you thought I was sexy."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I wanted you because I knew you were alone on purpose. I saw all that boredom mirrored in your eyes when I talked to you. Neither of us wanted to be there."

"So we decided to be together instead."

"Exactly."

You slipped your index finger inside you which was directly welcomed by a warmth and wetness only Jaehyun's voice and presence could cause you to feel.

"Better now?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Use two fingers, like me."

You pushed your middle finger right next to where the other one already was. The slippery sound you made as you started moving them in and out of yourself was music to Jaehyun's ears, and you heard him groan.

"Good girl. What do you imagine now?"

You closed your eyes again. "I see you next to me. It's you who uses his fingers inside of me."

"Do you remember what I do aside from that?"

"Y-yes."

"Do it and describe it to me."

You swallowed heavily. "I let the heel of my hand rub over… my clit."

"And how does it feel to you?"

"So good. Just like you doing it."

"How about picking up the pace a bit? Let me hear how you imitate me when I'm not with you."

Listening to every word he said, you settled into a flow of motion. You rubbed the ball of your hand over the area where your clit was located, simultaneously pushing and pulling your two fingers in and out of yourself. It was the perfect combination of internal penetration and external stimulation right where you were the most receptive to an orgasm.

Indeed, it had taken you a bit more time than it would have if Jaehyun were doing it, but soon enough, you found the right rhythm and pressure. You followed them in an alternating pattern that came close to your boyfriend's own blueprint. A moan escaped your lips before you even had time to think about it, and immediately, he encouraged you,

"Don't hold back. Let me hear everything. Let me hear how I can make you feel, even from afar."

You noticed the onset of an orgasm as a familiar sensation tugged at your very core - one you couldn't quite hold onto. You knew exactly what to do next, but you needed Jaehyun's help to get there.

"Are you close too?" you asked him instead.

He liked your pro-activeness. "Yes."

"How big have you grown?"

You rolled your head back into the pillows and let your fingers slip out of yourself. You didn't need them inside you now to finish yourself off. Instead, you placed them directly over your mound, parting your fingers slightly so that your sensitive bundle of nerves rested perfectly between them, slick and dripping wet.

Jaehyun replied, "So big that at this point, you can feel my thighs tense and use your entire hand."

You could vividly imagine it. As you rubbed your clit between your wet fingers, the slippery noises mixed with your moans to fill the room. In your head, you had Jaehyun's cock in your mouth now, using your lips, tongue, and hand all at the same time.

And you told him that, only causing him to swear under his breath. "Shit. Do you know what you're doing to me?"

Yes, you knew exactly what he wanted. You heard him moan on the other end of the line as well, the sound of his hand moving up and down his length reaching you clearly.

You felt the coil of lust growing bigger and bigger, tugging at every part of you, making your toes curl and the inside of your mouth run dry.

"Are you thirsty?" Jaehyun asked.

But the both of you knew it wasn't water that you now needed.

Your answer was always the same, "Yes."

You saw him in your imagination, legs spread wide with your hands dominating every movement of his until there was no self-control left in him anymore - and none left in you, either.

Your muscles shook, sending spasms to every last fiber of your body as your orgasm took over, making you cum all over your wet hand. You didn't hold back your noises, letting go of every restraint while imagining Jaehyun on top, under, inside, and above you all at once. You recalled every memory you had saved, desperate to make this brief moment with him last.

You had been so busy with yourself that you hadn't noticed what went down on the other side of the ocean. While you slowly came down from your high - the blanket beneath you soaked with your discharge and a light sheen of sweat covering your body - you acknowledged the fact that it had gotten very silent on Jaehyun's end.

"Are you… still there?" you asked into the void.

But at that moment, you saw a new chat notification on your phone. A picture from Jaehyun that he had sent you just a few seconds ago.

"Sorry I finished shortly before you," he told you the same time you opened it. "I couldn't hold back anymore listening to you moaning like that… My good girl."

The evidence was right there in the picture.

Your cheeks heated and you quickly closed the picture again, saving it for later in case you were in the mood for another session - entirely alone this time though.

When you returned to your laptop not much later, you had three missed calls from your boss and another meeting you were ten minutes late to.

And honestly, fair enough.

[anashins]

You Remain

Title: You Remain

Pairing: soldier!Jaehyun x nurse!reader

Genre: war au, drama, hate to love, romance, slow burn, smut, suspense

Word Count: 29,5k

Summary: Amidst war, a fallen soldier who's lost his memories discovers that not all of his ghosts have been laid to rest and that he carries more wounds than meet the eye. But on his path to healing, he finds more than he bargained for - only to lose it all over again.

Warnings/Disclaimer: There are indirect mentions of s*ic*de, but it's not committed. Certain war situations/happenings regarding attacks can get very detailed. It should be noted that this story doesn't have any correlation to real life and everything is made up.

A/N: Hi guys! This story had been on my mind for so long and there was no better time to share it with you than now while Jaehyun is enlisted to make his absence a little more bearable. Please leave feedback either here or in my inbox if you want, I'd be so happy and grateful to hear your opinions! 💓

They called him “The Blood Wolf”. 

A soldier who had slain his enemies high up in the snowy mountains. It was said he stood against hundreds of soldiers as his own comrades had fallen one by one. He remained the last man standing on a battlefield that had left the mountain peak stained, the snow dyed in bloody red which was visible from miles away - if only you looked closely enough.

“They don’t know who he is exactly. His name cannot be found in the list of soldiers who were assigned to that area and he's lost his dog tag,” one of the nurses close by whispered. “He’s an entire enigma to the military and they are still in the process of identifying him. But they treat him like a god considering the fact that only he came out alive from that battle.”

“I heard that too! He also rarely speaks and suffers from memory loss,” the other nurse added. “He doesn't remember his own identity and past. When they found him a month ago, he was just lying in the snow, frozen to the bones with a broken leg. He had already given up on being found alive.”

“For someone called ‘The Blood Wolf’ by the public, he doesn’t look scary at all,” the first nurse remarked. “He rather looks-”

… so distant. As though he was barely in this world anymore, you ended her sentence in your head as you all watched the soldier slowly getting heaved out of the car. You saw the displeasure written all over his face as he only reluctantly accepted the help of the caretakers. His messy hair was longer than allowed, the skin around his face sunken and gray, and his overall appearance too weak for a man his age. 

"The Blood Wolf" had remained up there in the mountains for at least a week without food after everything he had been through, enduring indescribable physical pain and being exposed to the merciless weather. That was why he had been brought here to your institution. It was a place solely intended for treating soldiers’ wounds after their war service - visible and invisible ones.

Instantly, once the soldier was seated in the wheelchair with his fractured leg in a cast, he raised his head and let his gaze wander over the building where many people, patients and employees both, tried to secretly peek out of the windows to get a glimpse at the legendary “Blood Wolf”. When it had been announced a few days ago that he would be shifted to get treated here in your clinic, many nurses had volunteered. You hadn’t been one of them. 

The soldier brushed the peoples’ nosy behavior off by dismissing their entire existence altogether and eventually let his eyes rest on the three nurses who had been ultimately assigned to him, waiting by the entrance. Your two younger colleagues started whispering again, this time followed by a shy giggle of each.

“Silence now, girls, and straighten your shoulders!” the head nurse standing with you scolded strictly. “We always want to leave a good first impression and this is not how I taught you to behave!”

You found their reaction inappropriate as well, because when you had briefly exchanged a glance, you had seen that "The Blood Wolf” was barely hanging onto this world by a thread. He didn’t seem to live up to his legendary nickname at all, and you wondered what more there was to the story. 

Not all soldiers walked out of the battlefield unscarred, though most scars were invisible to the eyes of outsiders. Most patients themselves were unaware of how deep their wounds actually reached - until one day they couldn’t take the pain anymore. There had been a few patients you had lost by either succumbing to their injuries or their own choice of leaving this world since you had come here one year ago.

At one point, you had stopped trying to form a friendly relationship with them, because you couldn’t bear the feeling of being a failure after losing patients you cared about. If you got affected too much by their fates, it would only lead you to lose focus on your actual goal: finding your lost brother who had gone missing right after the start of the war.  

You had been lucky to have attended school all throughout the compulsory years despite being a girl and coming from a rural area. Becoming a nurse later in life had only played into your cards as you had been able to transfer to this institution one year after your brother had gone missing from the frontline. The government and the military had declared him dead, but you had never believed this, because there had never been proof. If anyone would have more information on your brother's alleged disappearance, it would be the soldiers finding their way to this clinic right from the battlefields.

So day for day, aside from your own sincere determination of helping the wounded soldiers as you knew it was what your brother had wanted, you simultaneously interrogated as many patients in secrecy as possible. No matter how many times you failed and how long it would take, you had promised to yourself to find him. You knew he was still alive, siblings felt that. And this “Blood Wolf”...

You warily watched the caretakers readying themselves to push the wheelchair towards the building’s entrance, but he slapped their hands away and grabbed onto the wheels himself. But he failed to move on his own. You already had a feeling that he wouldn’t be an easy patient to deal with, but when you had been asked to tend to him, you had seen the chance and taken it.

“He’s a rather difficult patient from what they told me, but I rely on the great competence that you have shown so far,” the head nurse addressed you directly. “The other two newer nurses will assist you. Come to me if any inconvenience occurs.”

You nodded. “You can count on me, ma’am.”

She handed you the clipboard and his file. “His name is Jaehyun, he seems to be in his mid to late twenties. His leg had gotten shot at and the fracture is very severe, so treat him accordingly."

You froze. Weird, you thought as a cold shiver then ran down your spine. He had the same name as your brother. But the man getting wheeled towards you with a grim expression bore no similarities with your brother at all. It was a fairly common given name, that was a fact. Even though you had yet to meet someone with the same name.

“Very well, ma’am.” You failed to notice how difficult it was for you to get these words out as your gaze didn't waver from the file in your hands, shelved as… "Jaehyun". 

“The Blood Wolf” shared the same name as your tender, good-hearted and soft spoken brother… Perhaps, it was a sign. You just weren’t sure which kind of one yet. What you were certain of though was that if someone had information on him, then it would be "The Blood Wolf" himself. And for that, he needed to regain his memories. You knew exactly why you had accepted him as your patient after all.

____

“This is your room, Jaehyun,” you explained to your new patient. “I hope it’s to your liking. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

It was not a small room, Jaehyun was lucky in that. Perhaps, his reputation had something to do with it. But it was just as sparsely furnished as every other room with only the necessities: a bed, a nightstand, a chair, a closet, a lamp and a connecting, very small bathroom. 

You had guided Jaehyun all the way to his room in his wheelchair and he had not once complained. As a matter of fact, he hadn't said a single word. He now just lifted himself up to his bed by only his arms, dragging his injured leg after him onto the mattress. You didn’t offer him assistance as he clearly didn’t need it at least for that.

Even after a month spent in the military hospital where his leg was operated on several times due to the complicated fraction, he still had to wear a cast from which a few screws were looking out. In his file, it was reported that a bullet went right into the shin bone, splintering in his leg. He could count himself lucky that they had been able to save his entire leg. In a few weeks, the cast would come off, and then the real healing process would begin as he had to build up muscle and start learning to walk again. 

“Don’t call me like that.”

You were taken aback by the sudden raise of his voice. It sounded much softer and deeper than you had imagined. “How? By your name Jaehyun?” 

He turned his head to look out of the window. “I don’t like that name.”

That name? What was it about his name that he despised so much? The name you actually loved and which, every time you spoke it out loudly, resonated with deep pain inside you that nearly shoved tears into your eyes. If it bothered him, it bothered you even more and he had no right to cause you pain. But you were a professional.  

Not many patients were easy to deal with upon hospitalization, and you understood to some point. They had been fighting at the frontline for so long, powerful and independent. Falling back to being dependent on other people, especially young female nurses, was not a circumstance they could easily adapt to, building up much frustration over everything possible in the long run. Especially for someone called "The Blood Wolf", now rendered too injured to even follow mundane tasks all by himself, it must be very hard. You tried to be as understanding as possible and treat every patient as you wanted your brother to be treated in case he ever found himself in such a situation. But you also had to put them in places sometimes.

“'Jaehyun' it will be as this is your name.” You dismissed his request and made your position clear from the beginning. You read out loud from his file while positioned in front of the bed, “Wake up time is at 6.30 am, followed by a check of your vital signs and medication. Breakfast is served from 7 to 7.30am. There will be meal options tailored to your nutritional needs later on, but right now, we need to focus on rebuilding your overall health for the cast to be removed. After breakfast, we will focus on your morning hygiene before we continue with the physical therapy . Lunch is served at 12, followed by resting time. From 2 pm on, you will have sessions with a psychiatrist before you can continue with leisure time all throughout the afternoon. Dinner is served at 6 pm. We will still figure out your wind down routine for the hours that follow until bedtime at 9 pm, depending on your progress. Do you have any questions about your routine… Jaehyun?”

You prepared yourself to not get any response at all, but eventually, you heard him ask, “When can I go?”

“Go where?”

“Go away from here.”

“Apart from treating your physical injuries, we need to find answers to your identity and background so that we can inform your family about your status. I’m sure they are all already very worried. Additionally, it might be in your interest as well, regaining your memory. So I assume your stay here won’t be very short. But once you’re fully recovered, you can go home.”

“I didn’t say I want to go home,” he corrected and snapped his head back at you. “I said I wanted to go away.”

You were confused, directly looking into his dark brown eyes that were a little too challenging. “Either way, it will take time… Jaehyun.”

A slight frown formed on his forehead. “Why are you saying ‘Jaehyun’ like that?”

You frowned. “How am I saying it?”

“As if you… don’t like it either.”

Either…? You hadn’t noticed. You forced a smile on your face. “I don’t know what you mean, Jaehyun. The other nurses will soon bring you dinner, followed by the doctor’s visit. We will see each other in the morning.”

You nodded and then left the room, the feigned smile falling from your face the moment the door shut closed behind you. Your heart suddenly felt so heavy, making you miss your brother even more.

____

“How did it go yesterday?” the head nurse asked you when she came over to the dorms before your shift started. You had just gotten dressed in your nurse uniform, having taken the breakfast to your room as today would be very busy and you needed to save time. “I hope he didn't make it hard for you.”

You pondered for a bit, but eventually answered, “A man this broken cannot be as dangerous as people make him out to be ma’am. I think he’s just…” You looked for the right words. “... Very characterized by past events. If you know how to deal with it, it’s going to be fine.”

“I made the right decision.” She patted you on the shoulder. “I rely on you.”

“I won’t disappoint you, ma’am.”

The head nurse was the only person who knew about your brother missing, but not much more. Instead of making it your weakness though, she had turned this broken side of yours into your strong point and often relied on you for a second opinion as you could handle the fine line between being rational and being empathetic. You couldn’t have been more grateful for such a supportive supervisor. 

When you entered Jaehyun’s room after checking in on two other soldiers first, your patient was supposed to have finished his morning hygiene routine already. But upon inspecting the room, his breakfast had remained untouched and his bed was empty safe from the two assistant nurses standing insecurely next to it. You frowned, but then detected noises coming from the bathroom before they could explain the situation to you. 

“Hello?” You knocked on the door to the bathroom. “Are you alright in there?”

“Go away!”

“He insisted on doing the morning hygiene himself,” one nurse eventually disclosed. “But he could barely get out of the wheelchair. Before we could run to assist him, he had already blocked the door behind him.”

“Blocked with what? Weren’t you supposed to never let him out of your sight? Don’t you know the dangers of these situations?” you asked sharply and they just shrugged innocently. “You two are dismissed for the morning. I don’t need your assistance here anymore.”

After the nurses had left, you gently knocked on the door again. “Jaehyun… It’s only me now.”

“I said go away!”

You took a deep breath. At least he was responding, that was good. He was not going to actively hurt himself. “I’m aware that getting assistance during your morning routine might be uncomfortable, even a little bit embarrassing. But I promise you, we are all very professional and only intervene when you explicitly ask for help. We just need every room to be accessible at all times for your own safety, Jaehyun.” Every time you spoke out his name, it was pure torture. But you kept going for the sake of professionalism and trust. 

A snort could be heard from the other side. “You think I could be embarrassed?”

“Well, what else would it be?” It was the only plausible explanation as to why a soldier would hide from nurses in the bathroom. They wanted to save their faces by proving that they still could do the mundane things, such as washing up, by themselves, refusing help when there was much need for it due to their conditions. 

“It’s- it’s…” Pause. “Forget it. Go away!”

You grabbed onto the handle and shook it. The door only moved a little bit, but then slammed entirely shut again as though Jaehyun had just thrown himself or something against the wood and was now bracing against the barrier with his or its entire weight.

“Are you deaf? I said go away!” he yelled. 

You only had one last option left. This was not your first day as a nurse and you had certainly learned many things during mandatory military service. Even though several years had passed since that time, you still remembered everything from basic training. You took a step back and physically prepared yourself. Then, you lifted your leg and rammed it against the door which unsurprisingly moved under the heavy, punctual hit. Whatever had been blocking the way eventually gave in and the bathroom door opened in front of you. 

Jaehyun was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, the wheelchair that had apparently blocked the door rolling past him to the other side of the small bathroom. The red liquid running down Jaehyun’s face stood in stark contrast to his white clothes and the white tiles. It reminded you of… blood in snow. “He was called ‘The Blood Wolf’”.

“What happened?!” 

You were highly alarmed and sprinted to Jaehyun’s side, your gaze falling to his wrists that were, against your expectations, unharmed. Upon looking into his face, you figured the blood rooted from a wound on his jaw only. A short, open line that caused the liquid to drip on his white clothes. Luckily, no blood had gotten on his casket or the screws. The razor Jaehyun was holding in his trembling hand told you everything you needed to know about the situation unfolding in front of you. He had not attempted something for which you would have come too late. Again.

Carefully, you took the razor out of his hand and placed it on the edge of the basin. Jaehyun didn’t utter a single word when you put a clean towel on his wound that you then urged him to press against his open jaw. You quickly cleaned the floor with the help of the shower head, the blood disappearing in the drain and leaving behind only slight red streaks.

“You could have just asked the nurses for help,” you said with no hint of reproach in your voice. “We can carry out these tasks as well.”

“I already needed their help washing up and getting dressed, because apparently, I can’t do these things myself anymore,” Jaehyun complained bitterly. “So do you really want to blame me when I at least want to keep doing this myself?”

You left the room before immediately returning with a first aid kit. Wordlessly, you treated Jaehyun’s wound. And wordlessly, he let you. You then cleaned the razor under the running water in the sink and eventually, when Jaehyun’s wound had stopped bleeding for the majority of the time, you took the shaving cream into your own hand.

“I don’t blame you for wanting to do this yourself,” you reassured him after all. “But admitting that you’re refraining from doing so, because you currently lack the physical strength to carry out the task is a far greater and manlier act than putting yourself at risk. We respect that more than false pride.”

You put a bit of shaving cream on your fingers and expected Jaehyun to yell at you again, but he was sitting still, only averting his eyes as though in silent drawback. Inwardly, you sighed as you had seen these scenes so often and focused on putting the cream on his skin. His stubble weren’t that much visible yet, but you knew how important it was for soldiers to always be clean-shaven.

“I know it’s frustrating, but give it time and don’t force your body to do anything it’s not ready for yet. You will achieve your goals much faster that way.” You drew in a breath. “I’ll start now.”

You carefully placed the razor against his cheek, pausing when you felt him slightly flinch at the touch or cold, you didn’t know. When Jaehyun almost unnoticeably let out a sigh of ease, you started moving the razor from his cheekbone all the way down to his jaw, but left out the wounded area.

“I don’t know how it was for you… out there,” you started a conversation to bridge over the awkward silence that had taken over the atmosphere while you shaved him. Spot for spot, with much care and attention. “But I read your records, and your condition was not the best, to say the least. You were on the brink of death, starved and nearly succumbed to hypothermia and sepsis. You were so lucky.”

When you took a short break from the task to clean the razor under the running water once more, Jaehyun spoke up, “If you think being alive after such an event is a blessing, then you truly are an airhead.”

“I’ve been through several things as a nurse that people my age shouldn’t experience in the first place. I know soldiers have to turn off a certain part inside themselves to carry out their duties, and I don’t blame them for that. We all cope differently with the ongoing war. It may take time until you figure out that being alive is a blessing and your existence has a purpose. When you realize it, you might find yourself living right in the middle of it already.” You put your finger under his chin and lifted up his head to tend to the area beneath his jaw. Jaehyun complied with an unexpected quietness. Perhaps, some of your words were going into his head after all. “But you’re not a soldier anymore. Right now, you’re a patient who has to focus on his recovery, because for some reason, you have lived through these events. I know you’re frustrated and angry, but I only have the best for you in my mind, and no matter how long it takes until you realize it, I will remain by your side.”

You carried the rest of the task out in silence, and even though Jaehyun hadn’t said a word either all along, you had felt his body ease and him growing more cooperative in terms of leaning in to you to give you better access to shave areas that were harder to reach. By the end of the routine, your patient was all clean-shaven and apparently pretty satisfied with the results.

When you handed Jaehyun a fresh towel to wipe his face, he only murmured, “Do you always talk this much? Annoying.”

You smiled forgivingly and helped him back into the wheelchair to accompany him to his first physical treatment. Again, had let you without a single complaint. "Let's go, Jaehyun."

Speaking out his name felt just a little less aching. Perhaps, you were also just detaching from it, because his personality was just so different from your brother's.

____

“Look what a beautiful day it is!”

During leisure time later that day in the afternoon, you had decided that Jaehyun would need some fresh air and thus you had led him into the clinic’s garden. Early spring had finally reached these northern lands after a long and harsh winter, and the days were not too frosty to spend a few minutes outside anymore.

“I want to go back to my room,” Jaehyun opposed and hid his face up to his eyes in his scarf. 

“Come on, today is quite mild. That’s very rare here at this time of the year. After spending the winter in the southern mountains, don’t you enjoy a little bit of sun?”

“No,” was Jaehyun's plump reply. 

But you didn’t listen to him and wheeled him closer to the fountain which was located right in the middle of the garden. Admittedly, the yard consisted more of cobblestone and concrete than of greenery like trees and flowers. However, the large building complex was surrounded by nothing but endless fields, making the yard and its fountain the highlight of the entire clinic grounds.

“I'm aware it might not seem much to you,” you said when you guided the wheelchair closer to the centerpiece where a few other patients already lingered nearby, “but this is the only highlight in some patients’ lives. There are a few that have been here long before me already.” You stopped by a free bench, positioned Jaehyun next to you and then seated yourself. “And it’s also a little silver lining in the nurses’ lives as we cannot leave the grounds for long either. Treasure this feeling before this yard becomes the highlight of your day as well.”

You tilted your head up to let the sun shine directly on the tip of your nose. In a cold warden, it felt warm. From the corner of your eyes, you observed Jaehyun and expected him to grip the wheels and flee, but although his fingers twitched, he eventually quietly remained by your side.

“I grew up on a farm, so I spent most of my time in nature, regardless of the weather. Now, whenever I can go outside to catch a breath, I bring my patients along. It’s not much that I can offer, but whenever I'm here, I remember the happiness I felt before, the normality before the war. And I hope my patients will remember too and continue seeing life worth living.”

You could have sworn you saw Jaehyun tense in the way his shoulders suddenly trembled, but when you looked at him, he had fallen back into his old position, as silent as ever.

“Where did you grow up, do you remember anything at all? At least whether it was, in a city or the countryside? Personally, I-”

It was just an idle conversation to pass time as you didn’t expect an answer anyway due to his condition. You would have just continued speaking to yourself as you knew how to set the atmosphere with difficult patients, engaging them but not quite letting them actively participate.

Against your expectations though, Jaehyun replied, “In a city.”

You raised your brows in surprise. This information hadn’t been in the report! Or maybe you had simply overlooked it. “I’ve never been to a city! Not even on one of my rare days off. I haven’t been to the beach either, even though we’re so close by. But maybe I’ll get the chance one day.”

You expected a snarky remark from Jaehyun again for talking a lot, but instead he asked, “You’ve never seen the sea?”

You pursed your lips and shook your head. “It happens that city residents can’t fully grasp the fact that it’s very hard for us countryside people to leave our home villages. Infrastructure, electricity… it’s not something we can take for granted, especially not now in times of war."

“It must be miserable.” He didn't sound derogatory, more pitying even.

“I wouldn’t describe my life as miserable. My family has been growing crops for generations and that made me privileged enough. As a girl from the countryside, I was able to attend school until last year and started working as a nurse as soon as I finished mandatory military service. This is what I've always wanted, I never wanted more.”

“Have you ever thought about it at some point?” Jaehyun suddenly questioned you. "Leaving the country."

You looked at him as though he had just gone insane. “To where? There is no way up to the north. Then… to the southern country you mean? Our enemies? Never! They have it even worse than us! The people there live in extreme poverty, they are homeless and unemployed. We have it so good here already. They attack us, because they fear us."

You tried studying Jaehyun's expression after this extremely provocative question of which you were glad no one had overheard. But his features didn't give away much more. He continued staring at the fountain until he asked, “Is that what you people think about the southern country? Is it the same as you believe?”

It was odd to you how he spoke about this country and the people like he didn’t belong to the same nation. “It’s what we get taught and told. You will remember at some point.”

“And you never thought about questioning something you have not validated yourself?”

“How can I seek for things I have never seen myself? I could ask you the same.”

“It’s getting late,” Jaehyun then closed the topic. “We should go back.”

In the following days, Jaehyun’s mood seemed to worsen for some kind of reason, so you didn’t interact much anymore aside from the necessities. A week later, a bombing at a city on the other side of the country kept the institution busier than usual as many hospitals were already at their maximum capacity, so there was not much time for you to think about Jaehyun anyway. 

But somehow, your conversation kept popping up in your head and you started wondering how the sea looked like in reality and how the sand would feel beneath your feet when you walked along the beach. However, you didn't tell anyone about this.

____

“I heard you did not talk at all with the psychiatrist today again,” you rebuked Jaehyun when you picked him up from the doctor a week later. “You weren’t very cooperative during your physical treatment these days, either.”

Typically, soldiers were more focused on regaining their physical health rather than talking about their traumas. For longevity though, they had to be treated in both fields, physical and mental, which was why their days were divided into two blocks. In the morning, they were taken care of by a physician and in the evening, they talked to a psychiatrist. 

Jaehyun refusing both treatments was a huge warning sign. You guided him in the wheelchair along the corridor as you reminded him, “I thought you wanted to soon be able to do the morning and night hygiene routine yourself, such as shaving.”

He barely brought himself to reply, “I don’t care anymore.”

With this mindset, Jaehyun was at risk of getting stuck and shutting down entirely before making any progress at all. Helping a patient out of this hole required more than months of therapy. You had seen it happen more times than you had wanted, and you had sworn to yourself to never let someone get dragged into that darkness again if you were in a position to prevent it.

“If you had started on your first day here, you would already be able to shave yourself. In a week, the doctors could have removed the cast and begun treatment on your legs. It's not much right now, as it's a slow process, so you need to be patient and take things step by step. Start again, tomorrow. It's not late yet. In a few weeks or months, you'll be walking and feeling like your old self again.”

“My old self?!” Jaehyun’s head whipped back at you, fingers gripping hard onto the armrests in rising anger as he yelled, “Look at me! I'm in a wheelchair, I'm all alone, I’ve lost everything I’ve ever fought and lived for! How can I ever be my old self again?!”

You had been yelled at by patients before, and in this institution, it was a daily occurrence, so only a few curious pairs of eyes had turned to you both to watch the scene unfold. But you shrugged it off and continued your way along the corridor. “I know-”

“You know nothing!” Jaehyun raised his voice again. “You know nothing about me!”

Despite your developed callousness, his words still hurt you. It was true that you knew nothing about him, but it was also true that he knew nothing about you. He was just as clueless about you as you were about him. Truthfully, you didn’t know what to reply, so you replied with silence and rather pondered over this spoken words. What did he feel he had lost? Was there more to his story than he actually let on to everyone yet? It wouldn't be your first time seeing this happen as many people tend to live in denial for a long time.

“This isn’t the way to my room,” Jaehyun brought himself to remark a little while later.

“Exactly. Because we’re going to visit a friend of mine,” you declared as you led Jaehyun into another wing of the institution. 

"Outrageous!" he protested and wanted to grab onto the wheels himself, but you harshly slapped his hands away. “Hey! Get me back to my room at once!”

“It’s leisure time, so you don’t have to return,” you answered casually while pushing him along the new ward.

“But I want to return!” he yelled and tried grabbing onto the wheels again. But again, you didn’t let him. “This is not allowed! Get me back at once!”

Several heads had turned to you again, clinic employees and patients both, but you only put on a smile and nodded at them as though in assurance that everything was alright and your patient was only overreacting. Which was close to the truth anyway.

“See, we are already here!” You both came to a stop in front of a room. “In here is a patient who has quickly become a friend of mine. Sometimes, when I have free time, I don’t go into the garden, but visit him here to read to him. He loves literature, but since our resources are very limited, it’s usually the same books. He doesn’t mind, but treasures even these repetitive routines, because he cannot do much else.”

You opened the door to the slightly larger room, and inside, on a narrow bed, laid a tiny figure. It was a small child whose pale face immediately lightened up upon seeing you. 

“Did you come to read to me today, miss?”

“Yes! But my patient here will do it instead.” You pushed Jaehyun into the room and closed the door behind you. It was more than big enough to fit more people. “He arrived here not long ago and doesn’t have any friends yet. I thought I might introduce you to each other. His name is Jaehyun. Jaehyun, this is Cheol, our youngest patient.”

“He has the same name as your brother!” Cheol suddenly blurted out.

You smiled and nodded. Sooner or later, Jaehyun would have found out anyway, so it was better for someone else to reveal it. He might forget and never mention it again if you were lucky enough.

The boy pointed at something that stood by the other side of his bed and Jaehyun only now discovered what it actually was: a wheelchair. “You are also unable to walk, mister?” he asked with the bluntness of a child. He was only eight years old, and a fourth of his young life, he had already spent here.

“Uhm I-”

Jaehyun didn’t know what to respond, so you quickly jumped in, “He will be able to walk again soon if he puts in enough effort.”

“Lucky you!” Cheol exhaled in relief and leaned back. “I wish I would also be able to walk.”

Jaehyun gave you the most devilish side glare. By now, he had figured out your intentions and almost unnoticeably shook his head. Yet, he put on a kind expression as he answered Cheol, “I’m pretty sure you will be able to do so soon.”

The boy dropped his head in visible defeat. “Walking will never be possible for me again.”

“Cheol has gotten his back severely injured when the southern region was one of the first areas to get attacked,” you explained and walked over to the bedside where you seated yourself next to him. “It has left him partially paralyzed, and he’s been here for almost two years already. We focus on training his remaining physical abilities so that he can live life as normally as possible again. He's here because his mother is the head physician and she wants him under her close surveillance. In the beginning, Cheol could barely move his arms and upper body as well. Now show him what you can do, Cheol!”

With a bright smile, the boy lifted both of his arms and wound his upper body to the left and right. “Isn’t it amazing?”

“This is the reward for his hard work throughout the past years, and he will be able to go home very soon!” you cheered.

Jaehyun looked at you, then at Cheol, obviously at a loss for words. Of course, a little boy who had it much worse than him still being filled with so much hope and light would shake something inside him awake that he had long deemed dead. But on the other hand, he was also very aware of the fact that in contrast to him, Cheol still had the majority of his life ahead of him.

“You have been here for two years?” Jaehyun asked carefully. 

Cheol nodded. “I can’t remember much of my life before this clinic, but I hope that once I go home, I can explore the country. That’s my dream.”

“In a wheelchair?” Jaehyun sounded more offended by his own surprise than he had intended and quickly wanted to correct himself.

But instead, Cheol replied with no less brightness, “Yes, in a wheelchair. My arms are much stronger than anyone my age, so I can easily compete with anyone, even in a wheelchair! It’s not my handicap, it’s my advantage.” Suddenly, Cheol faltered. "You speak so funnily, mister. Why did you emphasize 'wheelchair' like that?"

"Cheol, Jaehyun is very sick. He's still learning." Of course you had noticed that Jaehyun accentuated some words differently or used entirely different characters. You and the doctors were reasoning it with his memory loss, it was plausible.

But Jaehyun didn't seem to be bothered. Instead, he leaned in to speak to the boy more privately, “If you had one wish that could be granted, what would you wish for?”

“For my father to come back from war.” No, it was not the ability to walk again as Jaehyun might have wrongly assumed. Out of all the things this little boy could wish for, it was for his father to come back. It had always been this. “And you?”

Jaehyun got startled by the counter question, and his answer didn’t come as easy over his lips as the child's. Eventually, he decided that he didn’t have one yet. “I’ll let you know when I know.”

You then carefully placed a book on Jaehyun’s lap. “How about you read to Cheol now?”

“Yes, please mister!” The boy clapped into his hands. “I cherish your efforts too, miss. But I have to admit, you cannot imitate the male voices as perfectly as the female ones. So I need variety.”

You happily left this part to Jaehyun this time and he started without any protest. As he read out to the boy, you could swear that he did it with a faint smile on his lips. It was genuine, and your heart warmed upon seeing him content for the first time since he had come here. Both of them.

The very next day, Jaehyun started his treatments. He was still reluctant even during the physical therapy, but it was better than not starting at all. It didn’t take long for Jaehyun to finally do all mundane tasks by himself. A week after his first treatment, he was able to brush his teeth, shave, change and bathe, all by himself. A month later, Jaehyun’s leg cast finally came off.

____

What Jaehyun still absolutely refused to do was learn how to walk. He was willingly doing all the physical rehabilitation and his muscles were slowly, but steadily growing back. However, when the physician asked him to stand up or do anything on the ground with his own two legs, he straight out refused. 

You placed the razor on the edge of the sink under Jaehyun’s wary eyes and then crossed your arms, turning back to face him. “Go get it. Then you can shave.”

“I still cannot walk,” Jaehyun pressed every syllable through his gritted teeth while sitting on the edge of the bathtub. “Can’t you see, I cannot stand up! I cannot walk!”

“You’re not even trying!” you retorted. “How can you know if you don’t even try?”

“I’ve been trying!” he screamed and you flinched, startling him just as much by the sound of his own voice that was filled to the rim with frustration. Quieter, Jaehyun then continued, “I’ve been trying every night in secrecy, because I just cannot fathom the embarrassment of failing in front of the physician… in front of you. And every night, I’m failing. I, who people call 'The Blood Wolf', cannot even stand on my own two legs. What does that make me when I’m not a soldier, not a man anymore?”

“Human,” you whispered. “It makes you human.”

“Save me from your wise words,” he laughed resentfully, his shoulders quivering. “You’re not in my situation, so you wouldn’t know how I feel, what I’m fighting with.”

“You’re right,” you admitted. “I don’t know. But I’ve accompanied many patients through similar treatments and I’ve been telling you that in order to achieve a fast, full physical recovery, you have to be cooperative with the psychiatrist as well. But to this day, you refuse to speak to them.”

He dropped his head and led his hand to his forehead, hiding his face from you. “I don’t see what speaking to a psychiatrist would have got anything to do with me being able to move every limb.”

“It has so much to do with it, Jaehyun." You were surprised at how easy his name now rolled from your tongue, not accompanied by indescribable pain for quite a while already, and you found yourself saying it more often nowadays. "Again… the accident that has led you to this state are connected to a trauma that is not easy to overcome. Whenever you try to use a leg muscle, your protective mechanism will hinder you from going through all this again and cause your brain to shut down. This is why it's very important to treat your trauma as well.”

You then knelt down before Jaehyun and reached out to him. Cautiously, you pulled his hand away that was hiding his face, and with only a little bit of reluctance, he let you. Agony was sketched into his face, but at least he was not fighting you off, letting you see his vulnerable side for the first time.

“Tsk. How would you know it will work for me too?”

“If it works for an eight-year-old boy, why wouldn’t it work for 'The Blood Wolf'?”

“Don’t call me like that.” 

You shrugged, already having come to terms with the fact that you would never address him to his satisfaction. “Think about the fact that a little boy is much wiser and less hard-headed than you.”

“Do nurses speak to patients like this nowadays?” Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “What if I submit a complaint about you, will someone else then get assigned to me?”

“Most likely,” you responded casually. “But I promise you that they won’t tell you something different than me. They would be even harsher.”

That was a lie. The other nurses were just as competent and skilled, but a majority would let their personal preferences get in the way. Now even more than before, because Jaehyun was slowly regaining his overall health, and it made people's heads turn. His features had turned more striking, his muscles had significantly grown. And when he, rarely though, smiled… You swallowed. But you didn’t tell him this. You also didn’t tell him that the other nurses asked you about him several times a day and you refused to give specific responses. Anyone would be glad to take over your position. But you wouldn’t let them, for the sake of your goal.

“I don’t care. Maybe I should risk swapping you out.”

He wanted to purposely hurt you, but you didn’t want to let him know it actually affected you. “If I’m not assigned to you, then I will tend to another patient, Jaehyun. Do you think we never have someone complain about us? The only thing that you can hope for is that everyone else is just as determined to help you. And until you get discharged by the clinic or picked up by acquaintances, you're stuck here. Either with me or someone else."

You were impatient for the moment he finally regained his memories as this was the reason why you were sticking around in the first place. If anyone had recent information on your brother, it would be him, who had fought with and against so many soldiers for such a long time. Only for this, you remained by his side. Was it…?

“Was there someone looking for me?”

Jaehyun was asking every day if someone had found him. And every day, you had the same answer, “There is no news about it today either.”

It was odd, because after your reply, you always caught a glimpse of relief in his eyes. You were only hoping that you were wrong, but clearly, there was an undeniable satisfaction mirrored in his gaze whenever you had to give him a negative answer. As though… he didn’t really want someone to find him. Or the other way around?

Jaehyun didn’t say anything further, so you grabbed the razor from the sink and passed it to him along with the shaving cream. “Wash up, then I’ll prepare everything for the physician's visit.”

Jaehyun took the items into his hand, but didn’t move.

“Do you need help?” you asked.

He lowered his head. “I’m s-” He stopped, then snarled, “Get out!” 

You knew what he wanted to say and were so disappointed he couldn’t bring himself to do even that. To say that he was sorry, even though it would have made you so happy. Wordlessly, you left with a heart that felt so heavy like never before.

____

Two weeks later, you read through Jaehyun’s file in the psychiatrist's office.

“Is it true, doctor?” you asked. “He started talking about what happened in the mountains?”

The psychiatrist nodded. “He started describing the situation when he was found and what he felt like as it's the only thing he remembers. It’s the first step.”

“I’m so relieved!” you let out an audible sigh. “I was so worried!”

The psychiatrist tilted his head in seeming confusion. “I’ve never seen you so invested in your own patient. But with him, you support him more than you need to. You could have left him in someone else's care when he was not cooperative, but you're remaining by his side. How come?” 

It was true. Despite your rough start, you endured and remained, no matter how hard it was for you. It was because you wanted to be the first to interrogate him when he remembered who he was, where he came from, based on the trust you would have gained as his personal nurse. Or at least it had been in the beginning.

Now, you were catching him constantly letting down his guard, though not towards you. He had loosened up, but was still careful and reserved since people tended to point out the way he emphasized and used some words. There was overall so much more to him that was so different from everything you had encountered before. Everything he did and said was irritating you, yet drew you in at the same time. You slowly came to a point where you didn't know how to behave around him anymore and tried avoiding him as much as possible as he didn't seem to care about warming up towards you either.

“I feel pity for him, doctor,” was your meek attempt at an explanation.

The psychiatrist smiled knowingly. “That's not true. You’re rooting for him. For some reason, you care." And that was the answer you had been trying to avoid acknowledging all this time. "It’s not something to be ashamed of admitting. You’re a nurse and you care about Cheol. Why wouldn’t you care about other patients too? It’s human.”

The words sounded familiar to you. “I cannot get attached to every patient, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to be a good nurse anymore. It would destroy me.” And it would come into the way of your true purpose at this clinic, but you didn't tell him that. "And Cheol has never been my personal patient, that's why it was okay with him."

“The world is filled with too much pain and coldness already. The least you can do is allow yourself to feel something.”

The psychiatrist's words still lingered within you when you left the office and started your daily check up on the patients, ending with a visit to Cheol. But when you entered his room, someone else was already there.

“Jaehyun?”

He was sitting by the boy’s bedside, a book opened in his hands. Your visit clearly took him off guard as he looked at you with widened eyes. But then he quickly turned his head away from you again, avoiding eye contact at all cost.

“Miss, please join us!” Cheol invited you. “We’ve almost finished the novel already!”

It was a relatively thick book for which you personally always needed at least a month with the little time you could still spare. How often was Jaehyun then coming here to read to Cheol during leisure time?

"I’m good,” you smiled. “I won’t keep interrupting you. Have fun.”

After you had closed the door behind you, you leaned against the wall and took a deep breath in. You figured Jaehyun finding a purpose outside of his routine was a huge step forward despite him not being able to walk still. It kept him busy, alive. And in a world filled with pain and coldness, everyone had to find their own joy in even the mundane things. You were proud of him, that much was true. Just like the fact that you had long passed the point of not caring at all.

When you visited Jaehyun before your shift ended, you observed him a bit closer. You wondered why you had failed to notice earlier. He had regained his overall weight, his cheeks soft and rosy, his hair longer and shinier. Not much had changed between you since the incident in the bathroom, and you wondered why it still hurt the way it did. Was that why you had been so avoidant too? Because there had been no coming back from the incident for you and you feared Jaehyun felt the same way?

“I was talking to Cheol a lot these days,” Jaehyun suddenly said when you prepared the bed for the night. “In case you wondered what I was doing there.”

“You are free to do whatever you want, Jaehyun."

“I just figured…” He paused and rolled closer to the bed with his wheelchair. “I wondered why I wasn’t able to walk just yet despite the treatments. I’ve been doing everything... And I was so mad at you this entire time.”

You halted and put down the pillow. So it was true. He hadn't come back from the incident in the bathroom either. “At me?”

He snorted as though he couldn’t believe his own words. “Because I did everything you told me to, yet I still couldn’t walk. I wondered what was wrong with me, if it was even worth… continue fighting.”

“Jaehyun…” Why had you failed to notice this too? The demons he had been fighting while you were blaming his moodiness and avoiding him, because it felt too much for you. Instead of being persistent and helpful, you had shut down and refused support. And for what? Selfishness, because you had felt hurt by someone deeply hurt himself?

“I wanted to talk to Cheol, that’s why I went there two weeks ago.” He snickered, but more in amusement. “After you said that an eight year old boy was wiser than me, I needed to find out whether you were right.”

You swallowed a huge lump in your throat. “And…?”

With less struggle and so much more ease than before, Jaehyun was able to heave himself up and onto the bed in one swift motion. You had failed to acknowledge this progress as well. 

“He, too, told me I needed a purpose,” Jaehyun explained. “Wanting to just walk is not enough. For Cheol, he desperately wanted to hug his father again when he returned from war. That was why he needed to regain his ability to move his upper body.”

You had never heard Jaehyun talk so much before, yet you held yourself back to reply elaborately. “I understand.”

“You had once told me I'd figure out the purpose for my existence, why I was the last one alive," he continued. “It's the same now. What do I need to walk for?”

You put the blanket over him and then shifted around to draw the curtains together. You couldn't face him. Even now you weren’t much of a help as you only wanted to listen to him talk more, because you liked the sound of his voice and the way he looked at you nowadays. Just two of the very many things that irritated you. What kind of nurse did that make you?

“I suppose I still need to find it out,” Jaehyun concluded. “A reason as to why I need to walk again, because as of now, I don’t have a good enough one.”

You were relieved that Jaehyun was at least trying. Talking to Cheol on a regular basis had finally dragged him out of the darkness that had threatened to consume him entirely. Even the little boy had been more helpful than you as his nurse, because the man chatting to you now was not the one from two weeks ago. When had this change happened and why had it passed by you entirely when you spent almost every day together? What had suddenly gotten into the way of you focusing on your actual work?

It couldn't be the way Jaehyun's teeth showed when the corners of his lips tilted up now. Or the way his nose scrunched when he laughed in response. Or the way he brushed his slender fingers over his hair in slight embarrassment. They all now only added onto the list of things that irritated you, yet drew you in at the same time.

With a fake smile, you turned around to Jaehyun. “I’m happy to hear that! I wish you a fast recovery.”

You then left him, totally perplexed. And the next day, you didn’t return. You didn’t return on any day after that anymore. You had been a good nurse. But you weren't one with him around anymore.

____

When you returned to the nurses’ wing a few days later after having finished the extra check ups, Jaehyun was already waiting for you by the entrance. You stopped in your tracks when you saw him lingering there in his wheelchair.

“What took you so long?” he barked. “Do you know how long I’ve waited?!"

You wanted to elude him, but he blocked the door. "Why are you here, Jaehyun?"

“Why did you abandon me?” 

There was much hurt swinging in his voice that was also mirrored in his eyes, and it took you aback. Hadn’t he been the one to suggest replacing you in the first place? You shirked from his look. “I didn’t abandon you. You wanted it, didn't you?”

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“Well, you had never said so and neither have you ever apologized." You shrugged, remembering his hurtful words all too well again. "It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re in good hands with your new nurse.”

“But I don’t want her!” he backpedaled. "I'm sorry, okay? Just please don't abandon me."

"I…" Your breath caught. There they were. The words you had been longing to hear, but why didn't they bring any relief? You had come to the conclusion that you didn’t need him to find your brother in the end. What kind of information would he have after all that gave him an advantage to everyone else? There was no reason for you to stay.

“Is it because I have the same name as your brother?” Jaehyun wanted to know. “Do I remind you of him?”

“So much and then again, not at all,” you brought yourself to confess.

“What happened to your brother?” 

You rarely talked about him, but perhaps, this was the time and place to do exactly that. “He disappeared from the frontline two years ago right after war had started and I’ve been searching for him ever since. I’ve been questioning the patients here if they know someone by the name of Ha Jaehyun. But to no avail until now.” You joked bitterly, not expecting an answer, “You don't happen to remember your last name to be 'Ha' by any chance?”

But Jaehyun wasn’t feeling like laughing. Instead, he suddenly got very serious and it seemed like all the color had vanished from his face. Then, he asked, “Do you think he is still alive?”

“Yes, of course! Siblings know something like this. I feel it. I just… cannot find him.” You were still mid-sentence when a sudden thought crossed your mind that you had never dared thinking of before. “Or… he doesn’t want to be found.”

“Wouldn’t that explain why, after two years of searching, you cannot find a single trace of him?” 

“But why would he?” you defended your brother. “He has his family, he has me! For sure he would have contacted me if he had the chance to!”

“What if… he doesn’t have the chance?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! My brother would always find a way!” You suddenly didn't want to stay here, arguing with him anymore as you knew your brother the best. "Good evening, Jaehyun!"

But he still refused you entrance to the dorms by grabbing your wrist and holding you back by your hand. “What do I need to do for you to come back?” he urged.

His hand was warm around yours, you suddenly noticed. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been touched like this, and it irritated you even more. Why did your heart feel like breaking apart and exploding at the same time with a yearning that had never settled in there before?

“I stand with my decision.” You pulled your arm back and brought more distance between you two. “Good evening, Jaehyun.”

You walked through the entrance door into the dormitory, doubting your decision the moment you were finally alone. Why was he making it so hard for you? Why couldn’t he have just accepted the situation and moved on? Why had he, for some reason, suddenly chang-

You heard the first sounds of descending planes way too late. Usually, you weren’t this negligent, but you had been too deep into your thoughts this time, and thus, the first bombs went off not too far from the institution before you had made your way back to Jaehyun.

The entire ground shook, but you were able to keep our balance as you ran back towards the entrance door, opened it wide and screamed, “Jaehyun!”

You spotted him still in the corridor, pushing the wheelchair in your direction and yelling your name in the same desperate manner as another bomb went off in your area. 

“We have to seek shelter at once!” You grabbed onto the handles of Jaehyun’s wheelchair once you closed the distance between you and pushed him out of the ward. “It’s too dangerous here, there are too many windows along the hallway!”

“Is there no shelter in this ward?” he shouted.

“No, we have to go back to the main wing as it's the closest to us! There is a huge bunker there!”

You had broken out into a cold sweat. Why did you also have so much trouble breathing now? Was it the sheer panic? Your hands were trembling, you could barely lead the wheelchair. Sweat had gathered at the back of Jaehyun's neck as well, wetting the lower strands of his hair. His hands were similarly pale and shaky as yours, but you both focused on reaching safety rather than giving into your fear.

In the main corridor, many patients had already gathered along with the personnel. Some people were screaming, some crying, and some were under so much shock, they barely grasped what was currently happening. The patients witnessed an attack as civilians and not as soldiers for the first time - just like Jaehyun. It could trigger the resurface of trauma, shutting down their rational thinking, so the clinic personnel were specifically trained to act accordingly in these situations. This was just not happening in a textbook now, it was not a drill. This was reality. Usually, this part of the country was far away from the active war zones and thus more peaceful. What did it mean that you were suddenly under direct attack too?

“Hurry!” you screamed across the hallway. “We have to seek shelter in the underground levels!”

When you guided Jaehyun along the corridor to the end of the main wing, the patients followed you after initial chaos had erupted. But the personnel had been quick in establishing an organized escape route according to the drills.

“I want to help!” Jaehyun looked back at you. “I need to help!”

You couldn't pay attention to him, because at that moment, another bomb went off. This time, much closer though, and the ground shook again, deafening noise bringing you all to a stop. You wanted to press your hands against your ears and close your eyes, but you couldn't. People were relying on you.

“You cannot help!” you eventually said to Jaehyun. “You cannot help, Jaehyun!”

It probably only dawned on him now that no matter how much he wanted to help, he physically wasn't able to. And simultaneously, he realized that he was partially responsible for his disability. But this was an emergency and not a situation in which you should hold his own decisions against him. He knew himself as well, now more than ever. Turning from a protector to someone who needed protection themselves was not a change soldiers could easily accept. 

The door to the lower levels were already wide open and guards were leading people inside, patients and clinic personnel equally. After you had pushed Jaehyun past the doors, you left him in the care of another nurse though, and he turned around to you in disbelief. 

“Where are you going?!” he yelled.

“I need to check on Cheol!”

“Are you insane?!” A look of terror spread across Jaehyun's face. “The bombs can reach this building in a minute!”

“And they can reach him too! I have to make sure he’s safe!”

“No, wait!” Jaehyun stretched out his hand as though he could stop you physically, or as though he wanted to follow you. But again, he was physically restrained for both. “Come back!”

You turned around. “I’ll be okay!”

And then you vanished behind the doors that immediately got sealed shut in front of him.

____

“Cheol!” you screamed along the hallway. “Cheol!”

Luckily, no further bombs had gone off again close to the clinic. Every person that you had met along the way, you had urged to seek shelter until every room you had checked on your way to the child had been cleared by you. You had helped where and whom you could.

“Cheol!” you screamed again, finally reaching the little patient's room with a quick sprint.

… to find it entirely empty. He had already been evacuated. You let out a breather of relief and leaned against the wall in the corridor to take a moment to catch your breath. But you weren't even given five seconds when another blaring noise, followed by a blow, suddenly carried you off your feet and forced you to your knees. 

You slung your arms around your head and remained crouched on the floor with your forehead touching your thighs to protect yourself. The silence that followed was the worst, and you pondered whether you should stay like this or take a chance and flee. But you hesitated for too long. Another bomb detonated, a little closer now, shattering the windows next to you and letting the shards rain over your back. Cracks had started forming on the floor as well.

You had to act. Now. You got back up on your knees and put your hands over your ears as another blast occurred. The ground shook again in unison with the shelves, beds and every other piece of furniture in the patients’ rooms. Rumbles followed the noises, seemingly coming from closets that yielded to the gravity. On both of your knees, you crawled along the wall that ran parallel to the rooms until you found a spot where you couldn’t get hit by loose objects threatening to fall as another bomb ripped through the air.

You then hid under an arch that served as a stabilizer in the hallway and pulled your knees up your body around which you then wrapped your arms, making yourself as small as possible. Now that you were alone, your survival mode locked in. But simultaneously, fear as well. You remained pressed hard against the pillar when another explosion broke through the short silence, and another one and another one, each one rupturing with fury.

If only it was over already. You couldn’t go down without finding out what had happened to your brother. You couldn’t go down without knowing where he was. You couldn’t go down without helping Jaehyun regaining his health-

“-you?!”

You opened your eyes wide. You could have sworn you had just heard him calling out for you.

“- where are you?!”

You carefully raised your head and blinked through the chaos, through the heavy dust coming from the cracked floors and the outside that partially restricted your vision. By now, the institution was running on emergency power which only added to your limited field of vision. But at the end of the hallway, you clearly saw a figure in a wheelchair that was approaching you. 

“Are you here?!”

No, he shouldn't be here. He was in safety and should be prioritizing that. He should not be in danger.

“Jaehyun?” you whispered more to yourself and rose to your knees to get a better look at the person still moving with much struggle into your direction. “Jaehyun!” you called out, a bit louder this time.

There he was, emerging out of the semi-darkness and into the bit of light that had still found its way through the holes that had once been windows. Panic was written all over his face as he pushed his wheelchair closer and closer to you. Why had he come here when you had specifically instructed him to stay in the shelter?

“Why?!” you yelled as another bomb went off and left Jaehyun tumbling on the wheels. “Go back!”

He shook his head and kept going, just a little bit and… But at the same moment, a large shelf fell over in a straight line with a thundering noise. It was suddenly blocking his route, preventing him from reaching your spot. The remaining gap it had left to the opposite wall was too narrow for the wheelchair to pass through. 

“I’m coming!”

“Did you… come for me?” you asked, barely audible. 

A smile tugged on the corner of Jaehyun’s lips and he nodded. By now, he had reached the shelf that was lying across the hallway, almost directly in front of you. He stretched out his hand. “Get up.”

You braced your hands against the floor and pushed yourself to your feet, but flinched and went back to seek shelter under the arch when another bomb detonated, the whole ground shaking again. 

“I can’t!” It was safer for you to stay here and if Jaehyun wouldn’t immediately seek shelter as well, it was looking very bad for the both of you.

“Listen!” Jaehyun instructed out loudly. “You just have to crawl a few meters and climb over the shelf, then you’ll be with me. I’ll bring you to safety, I saw a spot over there. You can do it!”

Blinking against the dust that was already burning in your eyes, you looked at Jaehyun’s hand that was stretched out to you. If he was able to come all the way here in his wheelchair, just for you, then you could also close this remaining distance between you two. So you took a deep breath in, nipped your fear in the bud, and positioned yourself on the floor. On your hands and knees, you crawled towards the shelf when another blow rippled through the hospital’s grounds. You didn’t let the explosion distract you from reaching your goal this time.

“Just a little bit more, come on!” 

You felt a surge of new courage welling up inside your body and hurried, closer to the shelf, closer to Jaehyun, your safety. That was until you saw his expression suddenly change from encouragement to complete shock, leaving him petrified as he looked above you. 

“Wait-!” he was able to call out before you lifted up your gaze to see for yourself what he had just discovered.

But you didn’t come that far anymore. Mid-motion, your entire field of vision suddenly darkened. Or was it because your eyes closed? You didn’t know what followed the striking blow that suddenly sent pain down your body, rooting from the top of your head. It felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs, all at once. You felt it to every fiber of your body. Pain so endless, you were sure you were dying now.

The last thing you remembered was falling back on the ground with your face forward. The pain was probably immense, but at that moment, it was futile in comparison to your biggest fear. Now, you truly wouldn’t know what had happened to your brother and whether Jaehyun would finally walk again. You felt so sorry you couldn’t have been more of help and had not only failed as a nurse, but as a sister too.

____

You had a recurring dream.

In that dream, you were standing on the beach, your feet buried deep in the soft sand. The waves came and went, caressing your ankles, the salt water cool against your skin. You could smell the fresh breeze, inhaling it as if time were fleeting and the moment would pass all too soon. The sun hung low on the horizon.

You had never been to the sea, but this dream felt too real. You were even able to see the emerald color of the ocean right in front of you. This was exactly how you imagined it. This and…

“Don’t go.”

… a warm hand holding yours, squeezing your fingers as though the person feared you might wander off at any moment. But where would you even want to go? There had never been a place more beautiful than here.

“Please stay with me.”

It was a man speaking to you. Had you finally found your brother?

But in this recurring dream, whenever you turned around to find out who that voice belonged to, the person vanished and along with him, the warmth of his hand. You had never once caught a glimpse of his face.

So sometimes, when you dreamed this dream, you purposefully didn’t look back, but rather lingered in the comfort of his gentle touch just a little longer. And sometimes, you squeezed his hand back. Just strong enough to assure him that you wouldn’t leave. Not even into the ocean.

And sometimes, you found him responding with another squeeze of your hand.

____

“She’s awake!” someone confirmed and then, turmoil erupted.

Your ears were ringing, and only with great effort were you able to fully open your eyes, emerging from the vacuum you had slipped into in the minutes since your consciousness had returned. Three heads were hovering over you, surprise and relief written all over their faces. One pair belonged to a doctor, another to the doctor’s assistant, and the last one to the head nurse.

“How are you feeling, dear?” the head nurse asked while the doctor pulled one of your eyelids wide open with his fingers, then the other. He shone a small lamp right into your pupils. “Do you know who we are? Do you know who you are?”

It was exhausting to part your chapped lips, but you brought yourself to croak, “Yes. Yes.”

“Excellent,” the doctor announced proudly. “We still have to run a few tests, but as far as I can examine, no further injuries have been sustained except for the physical ones. I’ll send someone to run the tests soon, please get ready by then.” He quickly left the room.

After he had mentioned it, you now felt a thumping pain on the top of your head. You lifted your hand and carefully touched the seeming wound only to be met by the fabric of a thick bandage. 

“During the bombing, you got hit on your head by a fallen chandelier,” the head nurse explained slowly and took your hand into hers. But it was not the hand that had held yours in the dreams. “You have suffered from a mild skull fracture and a concussion. Luckily, the chandelier was not too heavy, so a surgery was not needed. But we had to treat you with heavy medication that took you out for a few days.”

You faintly remembered the darkness, the pain. And there was… “Jaeh-”

The head nurse smiled knowingly and the assistant approached you with a glass of water in which a straw was placed. Carefully, she placed it between your lips and let you take a few sips while listening to the elder woman. 

“Isn’t it odd?” the head nurse asked rhetorically. “The seeming superpowers a human can summon whenever they see someone they hold dear in danger? For Jaehyun, it wasn’t any different.” You blinked in confusion as she continued, “The moment he saw you injured on the floor, something inside him switched.”

“He got out of his wheelchair and went to you,” the assistant added with a giggle after having placed the glass back on your nightstand. “When he saw that you had lost consciousness, he carried you to his wheelchair and brought you to a safe location. All while walking and pushing the wheelchair with you seated in it.”

“Wal… king?” you repeated in near disbelief. Jaehyun had walked? 

“Sometimes, there is a blockade inside a patient when they have gotten severely injured,” she carried on and the head nurse nodded in agreement. That was exactly what Jaehyun and Cheol had talked about as well. “After traumatic events in the army, they might have lost all hope to continue living. Serving was their purpose, so what comes after serving for them when they have been stripped of their physical strength and getting discarded by the military? They might feel too broken to pick up another purpose in life.” She paused meaningfully. “In Jaehyun’s case, he found his purpose the moment he saw you hurt. He knew if he didn’t act immediately, worse things could happen, and something inside him clicked into place.”

“For how long,” you muttered, “was I gone, ma'am?”

“Four days almost,” the head nurse responded. “They are currently repairing the left wing that has partially gotten destroyed by the blows. There are cracks in the walls and floors, broken windows, but nothing unrepairable and nobody else got severely hurt. The bombing ended shortly after your accident. We were so lucky to have reacted so quickly. Thanks to you as well, do you know that?”

You had truly been this helpful? “Is… Cheol also okay?” you still wanted to know.

“He is perfectly fine,” the elderly woman reassured you. “He had gotten evacuated long before you reached him.”

“I’m… relieved,” you breathed out and let yourself fall back into the pillow. 

The head nurse smiled. “He came to visit you. Every day.”

“Cheol?”

“No, he couldn’t do so as often. He came by foot." A meaningful pause. "I was talking about Jaehyun.”

You were very confused. Every day? Why would he even do that in the first place? 

“Do you want my advice?” she asked after sending the assistance to the attached bathroom to prepare everything for the wash up. “A man who is more concerned about your life than his own doesn’t deserve the name of 'The Blood Wolf'.”  

You recognized your own words in hers. He had fought at the frontline and had killed many enemies. It was in his blood to protect his comrades and civilians. Even now?

____

Jaehyun had visited you again on the day you first woke up, but only after you had already fallen asleep. He continued doing so over the next three days, during which you were prohibited from leaving the bed - always in secrecy when you couldn’t catch him in the act. Whenever you woke, he was already gone, leaving behind only his familiar scent and the lingering warmth of his hand on yours. Or so it was in your recurring dream that you were still dreaming.

They soon removed the bandage from your head and the stitches would be taken out a week later. The next day, you were able to return to the dorms to rest and the week that followed, you would pick up your duties again. But there was one thing you needed to sort out before all that, before continuing with your life. 

You didn’t dream of the beach anymore, and the more you tried to remember it, the more it faded, becoming, once again, only pictures you had seen in books. But every night, you still dreamed of the warm hand holding yours. Until the evening before your first day back at work, you wondered whether, at some point, that recurring dream had one day merged with reality and you had only failed to notice again. But you were not a coward anymore.

It was a warm, but cloudy day when you stepped out of the building for the first time in two weeks. The yard was empty since it was still treatment time for the patients, yet in the middle of the court, right by the fountain, was standing a familiar figure. His back was turned to you and a wheelchair was parked next to him.

Standing, he was much taller than you had imagined, and he only grew in size the further you closed the distance between you until you almost stood right in front of him. His dark hair was swaying in the breeze that tasted like late spring when he turned around to you, his face expressionless. Or so it seemed as he didn’t want to reveal more of his emotions. But you could finally see behind his facade.

“So, you feel better now,” Jaehyun stated nearly as a matter-of-factly. But then added, softer, "I'm glad."

You sucked in a deep breath. “They said there is one person I owe my life to.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“If it hadn’t been for you, there would be a possibility that I might not be here right now.”

“I only did what a soldier is supposed to do. Weren't you the same? Acting accordingly to lead everyone to safety.”

“I see. Yes.” You slung your arms around your chest, unsure where to look, unsure about this entire situation. But it was too late to retreat. “You walked that day. You even stand now all on your own.”

Jaehyun's gaze fell on the wound on your head. “I saw a person in danger and acted accordingly, like a soldier.”

You nodded, lips pressed together in tension. “I see.” You wanted to lock gazes, but he averted his eyes. “They say you still read to Cheol every day.”

“You weren't able to. I only helped out where I was needed, like a soldier.” 

Like a soldier, this excuse again. What was he so scared of, even now? If you didn’t bring yourself to cross the line now, you would not be making any progress and going back and forth for eternity. But you didn’t have an eternity left. War was so close and your accident had only proven to you that no time should be wasted. After all, how could anyone be sure you still had a certain amount left? Jaehyun had seen death more times than he could probably count. 

“Then what about this?” 

You stepped directly in front of him and took his hand into yours. It was trembling, just like yours. But as soon as your palms closed and your fingers intertwined, you felt a familiar warmth spreading through your linked hands. The warmth then flowed up your arm until it reached your heart in ways you had never been touched before. It was, indeed, the familiar warmth you had felt in your dreams that were springing from reality. Because every day, Jaehyun had sat by your side, holding your hand and telling you not to leave him. It hadn't been a dream. It had all been real. 

“Is this what a soldier is supposed to do as well?” You brought your entwined fingers close to your heart. Jaehyun didn’t make a move to withdraw his hand, you noted with relief. “You visited me every day. Holding my hand like this. Telling me not to leave. Why?”

He shifted his head away to avoid your inquiring look, but even from this angle, you perceived the color of his cheeks changing and spreading up to his ears. His hand was still in yours, sharing warmth when a cooler breeze soared through the backyard. 

“You don’t know me.”

“Neither do you. And it’s fine not knowing yourself,” you encouraged him. “The only thing you need to know during this tumultuous time is what is real and what is not.”

“What is… real?” Eventually, Jaehyun locked eyes with you, concern etched all over his face. 

You nodded, touched by his innocent reaction. “Right now, you are real. I am real. This…” You squeezed his hand, holding it tightly against your chest. “... is real. What more do we need to know?”

Jaehyun drew his brows together. “What if one day, you find out who I really am, and then you hate me more than I even hate myself?”

You brought your hands to the side of your face, placed them into the curve of your cheek and smiled when you felt the ever so slight brush of Jaehyun's thumb against your skin. 

“A man who risked his life to save me even if it meant defying everything he had deemed impossible… how could I ever hate him?”

With a jolt, you jumped forward, right into Jaehyun’s arms. He got startled, turning petrified even, but you remained with a thumbing heart. You wrapped your arms around his middle and placed your head against his chest, sharing the warmth from your hands now with your entire body. You couldn’t deny the relief washing over you the moment he decided to embrace you back and hold you close to him. You felt his breath on your parting and his fingers gently stroking over your hair, careful not to touch the wound.

“I don’t know what to do,” Jaehyun only whispered in near silence.

“I don’t know either,” you admitted in all honesty. “But it’s fine, we don’t need to know now. We will figure it out.”

It was silent for a few moments, but you didn’t break the embrace.

Eventually, Jaehyun whispered, “Yes, we will.”

____

You fell back into your work routine quite easily, but you didn’t return to being Jaehyun's nurse. You both had wordlessly agreed that with the shift in your relationship, you couldn’t treat him any longer and he made progress without you now too. But every now and then, you were still taking a look into his files. And even though he was walking very well now, only needing his wheelchair for very long distances, he still couldn’t remember a single thing about his past. 

“This is a very rare case,” the psychiatrist told you when you found a quiet minute to talk to him. “There is absolutely no progress in that matter at all. He still doesn’t remember his full name, his background, and what exactly happened in the mountains before his rescue. Our sessions are getting repetitive and there is no new information aside from what we’ve already disclosed. Almost as if…”

… he didn’t want to remember who he was, you ended the sentence in your head. Had his past been so traumatic that he was subconsciously fighting against his memories returning? Or was he willingly trying to split from his past character to start anew, becoming a whole different person? Jaehyun had never seemed all too bothered by the loss of his memories though, you had sometimes thought. For someone not remembering who he was, he almost seemed too… indifferent.

“What if it’s temporary, doctor?” you asked the psychiatrist. 

“Such cases exist as well." He eased back into his chair, taking off his glasses. His usual move when he was in deep thoughts. “Nevertheless, we have to find his family or an acquaintance to inform them about his condition. He cannot stay here forever and eventually has to get discharged. I just wonder why no one has looked for him yet…”

You wondered about the same thing. “He said he comes from the city,” you suddenly remembered. “Would it help i-”

“Excuse me, what?” the psychiatrist interrupted you.

“He said he comes from a city, so I thought-”

“Wait, wait, wait!” He put up his hand, gesturing to you to pause. “Where did you get this information from?”

You tilted your head in confusion. “He told me this himself.”

“Then you’re the only person he has ever spoken about this to, because not once has he mentioned coming from a city to me or another doctor. Did I miss it in his files? Impossible.”

You were so confused. Why would Jaehyun mention it to you so early on, but no one else had known about this significant fact? Had this information gotten lost in transit? Things like this could happen. Or had Jaehyun purpo-... You shook your head. He wouldn't have a reason to, would he?

“However, it seems like he trusts you very much, more than us,” the psychiatrist concluded. “I got it! Usually, to trigger a person’s memories, it helps them to return to their usual environment. They have to smell the scents they have been surrounded by in the past. They have to eat the food they usually ate, they have to be at the places they frequented… It will help them remember bit by bit.” 

“So you suggest he visits his city? But we don’t even know which city he's from.”

“It doesn’t necessarily mean he needs to visit the place he had lived in before. It would help already when he’s surrounded by cars, buildings, the sound of people… I would suggest you go to the city with him. Walk around, eat his preferred food and just let the atmosphere sink in. Even if there won’t be much new information after the visit, it will bring him closer in touch with who he was before.”

You had nearly not listened to the last part as you had stopped at an earlier sentence, repeating it in your head over and over again. You pointed your finger towards yourself. “I will accompany him to the city?”

He smiled encouragingly. “Of course. If he will tell anyone, then it’s you. I will directly request an off day for you.”

You really appreciated the fact that he was putting so much trust and faith into you. You also wanted to help Jaehyun, and even though you felt very honored by having been given this opportunity, something inside you told you that this wasn't… right. Somehow, you had the feeling that you should absolutely not do that. You suddenly felt so torn.

“Any more questions?”

“No, doctor.”

“Very well. The bombing has not affected the city so much, so you might be free to go in a two weeks time. Until then, he needs to focus on the rehabilitation of his walking abilities to be fit enough for the trip.”

“Noted, doctor.”

____

So, this was the city. You didn’t know what you had expected. But certainly not gray building after gray building, a few green splotches here and there, and barely any people on the streets. Admittedly, the houses weren’t as big and pretentious as in your imagination, the significant majority of them aging - and it showed, to say the least.

Before you came here, you had asked Jaehyun about the city. And despite his initial reluctance, he eventually had told you about the impressions that still lingered in his mind, just a few insights here and there. He had talked about bustling streets, flashing lights and buildings that almost reached the clouds. But none of it applied to this one. So you naturally concluded that this city was not the one Jaehyun was originally from. Yet, you wanted to follow the psychiatrist's advice and make the most of the day.

You had gotten a map for orientation and were now looking at the printed streets while Jaehyun was standing next to you, posture supported by a cane. He had insisted on not using a wheelchair for this trip, so the clinic's staff had brought you right to the city center with a car. You had repeated yourself over and over again, urging him to tell you when he needed a break. But so far, he had been able to keep up with the pace. You figured his training in the last few weeks had paid off very well.

“Why this antique navigation method?” Jaehyun asked. “Don’t you have a cell phone?”

“I’ve never owned a cell phone. I know a lot of people use them nowadays, but I never needed one. It’s not so established in the countryside. If I want to call my family, I just use the institution's landline.”

“A life without a cell phone, hm.” He seemed to reminisce about something. “Sometimes, I think it's very relaxing.”

“How about we go eat lunch first?” you then suggested. “It’s almost twelve. You like eating soft tofu soup in the institution, so perhaps you have liked it in the past as well. If we eat in the restaurant the doctor recommended, you might feel a familiar atmosphere and then-”

“And then what?” Jaehyun asked, nearly frustrated. 

You could honestly understand him. He had been pestered with that topic by every doctor on a nearly daily basis for the past three weeks. If you had known better, you nearly believed he hadn't wanted to go to the city at all, but was actually only doing you a favor since you had never been to one. 

You shrugged it off. “Let’s go eat.”

It was a suitably warm, early summer day, but even the weather couldn’t let the city appear less depressive. The environment reminded you of the institution, just much bigger, nearly endless. There was no appeal to the city at all, and you wondered if it was like this in every part of the country or whether at least the capital had been different before the war. Was this how the whole world actually looked like? Was that… it? 

You were walking side by side, steadily, but slowly. Because of his condition, Jaehyun caught the attention of a few people that passed by you, tensing every time they looked at him a little too long. Even though he pretended to not see them, their reactions visibly shook him for some kind of understandable reason.

“We’re here,” you announced when you finally arrived at the recommended restaurant. You had never been to a restaurant before, but you had imagined it to be similar to eating with the fellow employees in the institution. 

The restaurant was rather small and not filled with many people. The majority of the guests were office workers on their lunch break, yet it was still the fanciest place you had ever visited. You got seated across from Jaehyun by a window table and ordered soft tofu soup. You were so excited for your first restaurant experience, but Jaehyun only seemed to share this emotion to a certain extent.

It wasn’t because he was annoyed or repellent. Sometimes, he seemed to really enjoy your trip as well. It was just… you didn’t want to use the word frightened. Most of the time, he was just uneasy, uncomfortable. His eyes were moving too fast from one point to another, observing the environment and the people close by a little too long. You blamed his memory loss for it, but didn't know how to help him ease up a bit either.

“I hope you’re hungry!” you said when the waiter returned with the side dishes.

You saw classic kimchi, cucumber salad, marinated eggs, zucchini stir fry, pickled onions, macaroni salad, creamy fruit salad, and spicy bellflower root salad. Some of these side dishes, you had never seen nor eaten ever in your life. Usually, at the institution, you were eating rice, kimchi and stir fried seasonal vegetables. You were getting meat only twice a year for the big holidays.

The soup was served steamily hot, the soft tofu almost entirely falling apart in the pot when you stirred the red liquid. Upon opening the small metal container filled with rice, the freshly cooked scent directly found its way into your nose, and saliva gathered in your mouth. It would probably be the most delicious and extraordinary meal you would ever experience in your entire life.

“I’ve never eaten macaroni salad before,” you confessed and picked up a noodle with your chopsticks. “I heard people all over the world like eating noodles, yet they are so rare here. Do you like noodles, Jaehyun?”

Nowadays, his name fell from your lips so easily. Rarely, you connected the sound of it to the pain of missing your brother anymore. This was not him, this was an entirely different name for an entirely different person. One that warmed your heart and made it race at the same time.

Jaehyun nodded and led a spoonful of macaroni salad to his mouth. He didn’t verbally say it, but you saw how much he enjoyed the food that was so different from the rotating dishes in the institution. From the way he hadn’t been repelled by the noodles and the other side dishes, you assumed he was familiar with rather rare and fancy meals.

Was he not in the same social class as you? Did he come from a reputable, wealthy family, residing in the capital even when it had still stood? Then why wasn’t he missed and looked for? If one wanted to find him, then he would have been found by now. It wasn’t even weeks worth of searching. Unless… you gulped, not wanting to look for an answer much longer. There must be at least one person left for him. At least one.

Jaehyun then took the ladle and scooped the soup into your bowl. “Here, eat.”

You tasted the soft tofu and got ecstatic over its taste. Even if the dish was served every now and then in the institution, it usually didn’t taste as rich as here. Yet, Jaehyun ate it with little to no reaction. He was such an enigma to you. However, when you looked up at him after having emptied your small soup bowl, you caught him smiling at you. Genuinely, as though he indulged in the view of you being happy and didn't need more. 

____

“Now, let’s go visit the Grand Theater,” you declared. “The doctor recommended that we go sightseeing.” 

“Hey,” Jaehyun said,“how about we just do our own thing?”

“Our own thing?” Your gaze wandered to him, then to the map in your hand, and eventually landed back at Jaehyun. “What do you mean? The psychiatrist has written down an itinerary for us which we have to follow.”

“Have to follow? So… you don’t want to go to the seaside?”

You drew your brows together in skepticism. “You mean we should go to the beach? But it’s not on the list, we’re not allowed to do that.”

“Did he explicitly say we are not allowed to? And if, how would he find out? We will be back at the pick up spot at the right time.”

“But Jaehyun,” you called out when he started walking already, “the purpose of this trip is for you to regain your memories.”

He turned his head back to you. “And who said my memories cannot return when I see the beach?” 

“Ah!” You moved now as well and eventually fell into his step. “Back then, you were so surprised over the fact that I have never been to the beach before. Surely, you must have already visited one! Right, then it will really help!”

“See? Come on.” 

Again, he smiled that smile from earlier, confirming to you once again that he wasn’t doing it to actually help himself, but to do you a favor. Because you had never been to the city before, because you had never tasted this food before, and because you had never seen the ocean before. But… Why this all just for you?

The moment you asked, the truth would come out, and you didn’t know whether you were prepared for it. And the truth was that you didn’t want him to leave the institution, because you had to stay there until you found your brother and couldn’t go wherever Jaehyun would go after his discharge.

Just the thought of not seeing him every day anymore made your heart so heavy, you could barely breathe. So if you could prolong his discharge just a little longer… if you could spend one more day being his nurse, then you would take it. Even if it made you a bad nurse.

All the way to the bus stop, you were walking one step behind Jaehyun, watching his back and wondering whether he was feeling the same way. You had agreed on figuring it out, and while you had long been aware of these feelings, you were asking yourself if Jaehyun had also reached that point already and why he wasn't making a move.

All these wild thoughts didn’t subside, even when you were sitting next to each other on the bus to the beach. Jaehyun didn't miss that you had suddenly fallen so quiet, and you even caught him opening his mouth and closing several times. But every time, he also reversed himself. Perhaps, this was better, living in this illusion just a little longer.

“I've been to the beach twice,” Jaehyun eventually started. You had never seen his eyes so sad, all while he was trying to smile against the seeming pain this memory caused him. “Once as a child with my parents, and the second time with my friends shortly before we got called to serve in the war.”

"Jaehyun!" You gasped in near disbelief. “It’s working! You remember! What exactly do you remember?”

“I remember sitting in my parents’ car, exhausted from a long day at the beach. My mother had cut some watermelon for us to eat, so I was still full from this snack.”

A… car? And fruits? He must really come from a wealthy family. “Do you remember their faces?”

He was shaking his head. A bit too late, a bit too reluctant. But you were too happy to question this behavior. “Is this all you can remember?”

Jaehyun gulped. “Yes.”

“And the time you went with your friends? What do you remember about that exactly?”

“There have been five of us. We were splashing around in the water. It was summer and extremely hot.”

Even though it was not so detailed, it was something to work with at last and you wrote it all down in your small notebook, as advised by the psychiatrist. Suddenly, you didn’t think about your feelings for Jaehyun anymore, but were occupying yourself with the possible outcome of visiting the beach. It had been right of Jaehyun to suggest that, you couldn’t explain why the doctors hadn’t gotten the idea first. When you would finally reach your destination, the chances were high that he could remember even more of his past. 

So you wrote and wrote possible scenarios… All while Jaehyun was watching you closely. And he didn’t say a word for the whole ride anymore. 

____

In your dream, the ocean had been wide, endless and beautiful. But since you had never seen such a scene in real life before, your imagination, whenever you tried to recall the images, was restricted. Just how vast, endless and beautiful the sea truly was, lay beyond your wildest dreams. In reality, it was much, much more. More than you could possibly summarize in simple words. 

The blue of the water was more vibrant, almost emerald, glittering like a jewel held up to the sun. The sand beneath your bare feet felt soft and fluffy, your steps sinking gently with every move. Waves came and went, cool and refreshing, as they caressed your ankles with their white crests. The horizon stretched far beyond what your eyes could capture, and at that moment, you felt so small in such a big world. 

You loved the beach and the sea, not only in your dreams now. This was the exact opposite of the gray concrete city. If you hadn’t traveled so far, you would have missed out on such a great spot in this country. What more had the world to offer, you wondered?

A few people were walking along the beach, just a little more than a handful. There were sunshades lined up in several rows, but they hadn’t been opened since summer was not fully here yet. You tried to shield your face from the sun by bringing your hand to your forehead, though several clouds were moving into your direction from the seaside. Far into the ocean, you could spot small boats now.

“Look, Jaehyun!” you called out to him, holding one part of your long skirt up so that it wouldn’t get dirtied. “There are ships! I’ve never seen ships before!”

Jaehyun was standing behind you, cane placed next to him on the ground along with your shoes that you had taken off before. He had refused to accompany you to the shore, but had promised to watch from nearby. Then… you finally caught him laughing. Not bitterly this time, but out of pure happiness from the bottom of his heart. 

Jaehyun was finally laughing, and you laughed with him. You loved the way his voice sounded and the way his nose scrunched up when he laughed. You loved him. So you whirled around in the sand, stretched out your arms and laughed from the top of your lungs. Your hair was whipping into your face and your skirt got entangled between your legs. But you didn’t mind, you didn’t care. You laughed and whirled and laughed. 

You must have made a silly picture, acting like a little child that had never indulged in the richness of simple activities. But this was your first time at the sea and it could most likely also be your last time. There was no more time to be lost, no feelings to be hidden. So you suddenly came to a stop, your chest visibly heaving up and down. Whether it rooted from the exhaustion caused by the spinning or from your nervousness, you couldn't tell. You ruffled the stained skirt up your legs and held the fabric with both hands on each side, leaving the shore with wet feet. If you didn’t tell him now, how was he supposed to know?  

“Exhausted already?” Jaehyun asked, seeing you approach him. “Let’s sit over there and take a rest.”

“You didn’t come here with me for the purpose of regaining your memory,” you told him bluntly when you had finally reached him. “You brought me here so that I could see the sea.”

Jaehyun was stunned, you saw it clearly in his expression. But there was no reason to conceal the truth anymore, and he knew it just as well. “I thought… Since we were already here, we could see the ocean too. Just like in your dream.”

For Jaehyun, this trip had never been an obligation, that was why he had agreed to do it in the first place. It had never been about him, it had always been about you. It was a gift to you, because he didn’t know how he could express his feelings in another way. It was the kindest thing someone had ever done for you.

“Right.” You pretended to not care and feigned haughtiness as you stated, “But this is not like in my dream.”

“Not?” Jaehyun looked absolutely beaten and you regretted your acting right away. “Why not?” 

Your expression softened. “Because one thing is missing.”

“What is missing?” He almost sounded panicked and you couldn’t hold in your giggle anymore. 

“This is missing.”

You reached your hand out to him, all five fingers spread apart. It was an invitation. A bold one, on top of that, but not one that would cross any borders just yet. You watched Jaehyun with much waryness, watched the nearly unnoticeable shaking of his own hand and the pinkish color that had found its way back to his cheeks when he took your hand into his, entwining your fingers just like back then in the clinic's yard.

As you stood there, watching the ocean with joined hands in complete silence, you felt the warmth again that now nearly bordered a heat you couldn't define yet. You felt hot, yet so alive. This moment here was realer than anything ever before. 

“This,” you then said out loud, “this is real.”

Jaehyun didn’t say a word, but the light squeeze on your hand was confirmation enough. For him, this was real as well.

____

“Did they mention such heavy rain in the weather forecast?” you asked Jaehyun as you sought shelter in front of a small store where a few other people were hiding from the rain already as well. 

“I remember they said something about rain, but not this heavy,” he responded and looked up to the dark sky with much worry. 

It had started raining while you had still been on the bus back to the city center. In the beginning, it was only a light drizzle that had soon evolved into a storm. Some streets were starting to get flooded, water running along the concrete and forming a small stream while looking for a way to escape. 

The soles of your shoes had gotten wet, rainwater staining the hem of your skirt and slowly spreading upwards. The moist fabric was clinging onto your legs and the wind only added to the chill you were feeling more intensely the longer you stood outside. You slung your arms around your body in hopes of warming yourself up a little, but the rain didn’t seem to subside and the water level on the streets was only rising. 

“Maybe we should try getting to the pick up point,” you suggested. It took everything from you to speak over your clattering teeth.  “Someone must already be waiting there, so it won’t matter if we get wet on the way.” 

Jaehyun looked up and down at you. His own pants were wet to his knees, and even his shirt had gotten significantly marked by the rain. Yet, he didn’t seem to mind and was only looking at you with much concern in his eyes. He stretched out his free hands, the cane hooked over his wrist, and put them on either side of your shoulders. He rubbed your arms up and down, causing the spots to momentarily heat up. You smiled, grateful for this gesture, but it only helped so little against the sudden drop in temperature.

“Yes, let’s try it.” Jaehyun nodded. “How far is it on the map?”

“I fear there is no chance,” an elderly woman, who happened to stand nearby, interfered. “They closed the main road due to the flooding. A few cars got stuck on the flooded streets already. I suppose, as long as the rain doesn’t subside now, there is no possibility anyone can get in and out of the city until tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow?” you repeated, clearly shocked. “But we have to be back at the institution by tonight! Besides… they don’t know where we are, what happened to us!”

“I wish I had a cell phone right now,” Jaehyun pondered. “Let’s go inside this store and ask if we can use their phone.”

“Oh, you can use mine!” the woman offered. “I already called my husband, he’s going to pick me up with an umbrella. We both work for the government, for the embassy to be specific, so we directly live here in the city.”

“Thank you.” You bowed deeply and took the cell phone into your hand. You had already used a cell phone in the past, but this…

You were inspecting the rectangular thing that had nothing in common with the cell phones you were familiar with. Where were the buttons with the numbers written on them? Why was it only one single block of plastic and glass? Your thumb accidentally brushed over the surface, and it suddenly lightened up, showing the date and the time. Now you remembered that you had seen these kinds of cell phones before. A few doctors used them, and a fellow nurse had bragged about her new cell phone one time, but you had never bothered to look into it much - a decision which met regret at this very moment, because you had seldom felt so helpless.

“I’ll call,” Jaehyun luckily said when he encountered your perplexed stare and took the cell phone into his own hand. 

As though he had never done something else in his entire life, he swiped his thumb over the glass, causing a few rectangular, colorful pictures to pop up. Now you remembered how the fellow nurse called such a phone. Smartphones, apparently. 

Jaehyun clicked on a green box and asked you, “What’s the number?” 

You watched him handling the device with ease, bringing it to his ear and speaking into it as soon as someone picked up. There was no doubt about it anymore. With every move he made, every word he spoke, every reaction he let you witness… With every memory he now actively chose to share with you, the picture became clearer as you pieced the puzzle together in your head, and your world momentarily froze.

Jaehyun didn’t belong here. 

How had you not seen it before? The signs had been there from the very beginning. The way he talked as it showed in the foreign emphasis of some words or the usage of completely different characters. The way he knew so much more than a regular resident of the northern country, completely unfazed by fancy food and smartphones. Even the way he walked, so confident, yet demure. And the way he wore his hair, too long, not according to the standards. And everyone had always let him, because they thought he was already suffering enough.

That was why Jaehyun hadn't wanted to come to the city in the first place, having behaved the way he had behaved all day and only relaxing when you two were alone. He had never wanted to be found, because if someone did, it would mean-…! It all made sense now. Your world was spinning and you were unsure how to digest this revelation, how to behave and how to move on.

“They said we should stay in a hotel for the night and they will pick us up tomorrow.” Jaehyun gave the smartphone back to the woman and thanked her. His words barely reached you though. “Do you know a hotel nearby, ma’am?”

“Young man!” she suddenly called out. “Your accent, it's-…!”

Immediately, you snapped out of your trance-like state. “I know one!” you interrupted the woman, not giving her the time to end her sentence and hopefully her thoughts as well. You pulled the map out from your bag and pointed your finger at a location you had eyed with before. “See, there is a hotel just two intersections away. Let’s go! Thank you so much, ma’am! Please get home safe.”

Jaehyun and you walked close to the building walls, seeking as much shelter from the rain as possible until you reached the first intersection. You were about to get exposed to the pouring rain while crossing the street, so you halted.

“Uhm…” You looked at the flooded street, then at your drenched shoes, and finally at Jaehyun. “Just one moment.” You lifted one of your feet to take off your shoe with the intention to walk barefooted across the intersection, otherwise they would surely not dry at all until the next day. But Jaehyun told you to stop mid-motion. 

“Keep them on.”

“But they will get-”

“Here, take this.” He handed you the cane. “Get on my back.”

You widened your eyes, cane now in your grip. “What?” 

“Get on my back,” Jaehyun repeated and crouched down a little. “Get on.”

You looked to your left and right, but there were no immediate passersby anymore. You then hooked Jaehyun’s cane around your arm and climbed onto his back, careful as to not let too much leg show when you hooked them around his waist. He was grabbing onto your thighs, holding you appropriately and safely. The cane was dangling from your forearm when you wrapped them around his shoulders. 

You smelled Jaehyun's fresh scent, a mix of rain and pine, and you started reminiscing about all the weeks, all the months, in which you had been his nurse when he started running across the flooded intersection, the rain mercilessly pouring down on you. And you wondered whether he was lying about his current condition too. But by the way he was running with no seeming struggles, you feared you already knew the answer to that.

He had lied about his memory loss to protect his true identity. He had lied about his physical condition to not attract more attention. He had lied… about his feelings too?

____

You were standing in the hotel room, the drenched clothes clinging to your body like a second skin. You couldn’t believe that they had only one room left for the night, and it wasn't even two separate beds. But you understood that they needed every bed for workers who now came to the city to help the injured and rebuild the destroyed areas after the bombing.

Jaehyun walked over to the closet and opened it. It revealed two bath robes which drew a relieved sigh out of him. “Well, I think it’s something good considering the fact that you had to fight for the toothbrush sets at the reception.”

“Why haven’t you talked to the receptionist?” you asked bluntly and provoked, “You haven’t talked much at all today, only with me. And the embassy woman to some point. Did you even enjoy today?”

You clearly remembered what that woman and Cheol, along with several other people, had often remarked after hearing Jaehyun speak when you had had always brushed it off, just like the doctors. It had sounded so valid that it was connected to his memory loss. You had never heard another accent in your life as you hadn't grown up with TV or the intranet. Those were things you had gotten familiar with only later in life. If you had known before how a foreign person sounded, would you have noticed it earlier? And if so, would you have told anyone? 

As a response to your question, Jaehyun just shrugged, causing the droplets of water at the ends of his hair to fall down to his collar. His hair that had always been too long for the standard... “I don’t feel quite secure talking to strangers.” You didn’t wonder why. “Here.” Jaehyun handed you a bathrobe. “Go to the bathroom, take a hot shower and change. If we hang up our wet clothes now, they will hopefully be dry enough to wear again in the morning. Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the floor, so feel as comfortable as you want.”

Why did he seem so unfazed by the entire situation again? You had heard people from other countries weren’t as conservative and slept on the same bed before marriage, even living together was normal. You couldn’t imagine that. But just because you couldn’t imagine things didn’t mean you couldn’t want them. As you slowly went to the bathroom, you felt that heat again, and this time, it didn't dwindle. It was the worst timing now and you blamed Jaehyun's wet hair and the way his arm muscles curved under his wet button up.

That was all that you could think about when you stood under the shower. You couldn’t remember the last time you had had a hot shower this long and you probably spent more time under the running water than ever before. But when you finally stepped out and wiped the steam from the mirror, you knew that something had completely changed. And you didn't mean Jaehyun.

Suddenly, the world seemed full of possibilities you had never even dared to dream of. Like visiting the city, walking along the beach, watching the ocean's waves, all with the person you loved. Perhaps, you didn’t need to come to terms with what kind of person Jaehyun really was. Perhaps, you didn’t need to move on from it, because you had fallen for the person who had always been there. His past and background had not been important even once.

You stepped out of the bathroom with naked feet, only dressed in the bathrobe, and you discovered Jaehyun sitting on the bed in the same piece of clothing, drying his hair with a towel. He had hung up his wet clothes by the window and had done the same with yours after you had quickly thrown them out of the bathroom before your shower.

Jaehyun seemingly forced himself not to look at you for too long when he reassured you, “Don’t worry, I’ll prepare my bed now and then take a shower. It’s all yours.”

“Have you done this before?” you asked, almost not recognizing your own voice. 

He seemed startled and halted mid-motion, a part of the towel still draped over his head. “What do you mean?”

“Sharing a bed with a girl.”

He looked at you, totally confused and taken aback. But when you didn’t bother to elaborate, he eventually confessed, “Yes.”

Where he was from, women had a free will, and it was nice just imagining that tonight, you could have a free will as well. You were not at your home village, sharing a room with your brother. You were not at the institution, sharing a room with five other nurses. For the first time in your life, you had a room all to yourself. For the first time, you had privacy and could do whatever you desired. You and Jaehyun both knew this was not solely about just sleeping next to each other. The tension was palpable.

“No,” Jaehyun then refused, finally grasping your unspoken thoughts. “We won’t do it.”

“Oh.” You dropped your head, concealing your disappointment with a smile that he hopefully couldn’t see. You feared your entire face might reveal your true feelings after all. “Then, forget what I said.”

“No, no, no!” Jaehyun quickly got up and approached you, taking both of your hands into his. “It’s not that I don’t want it. It’s just…” He looked around nervously. “This is just not the right time. Not the right place. And I'm not… prepared.”

He was scared. But you were not. So you withdrew your hands from his and lifted them up, cupping his face. You couldn’t admire Jaehyun’s embarrassed expression for too long as you pulled him down and closed the last distance between you with a kiss. You had kissed someone before, in all secretary on a wide field where no one could spot you. You barely had any memory of that time left anymore. While right here and now, it felt real, it was real. This was how it was supposed to feel like when you loved someone.

The warmth that had originally only ignited when you were holding hands, was now embracing your whole body in ways you’d never experienced before, and you felt his lips, first hesitantly, then more passionately moving against yours. The warmth was now not only stemming from the shared feeling, but also from Jaehyun finally giving in and putting his hand on your lower waist, pressing you hard against him. He was hungry for more and had awoken something inside you that was craving for the same thing, even though you might not know yet what exactly that was.

But you got a taste of it the moment Jaehyun pulled your head back by gently entangling his fingers in your hair, your gaze turning up towards the ceiling, lids fluttering and a deep sigh escaping from your mouth. When he lowered his face and let his lips brush over the tender skin along your neck, you could have sworn the ceiling started moving. His touches, which were still so foreign to you, nearly caused you to lose your mind.

Perhaps, it was also because Jaehyun had lifted you up and carried you over to the bed. He was carefully placing you on the top of the mattress that was a little too hard, but you didn’t mind. You also didn’t mind the fact that the knot on your bathrobe had gotten loose, revealing more skin than you had ever shown to anyone before. You gulped visibly and braced your elbows against the mattress as you watched Jaehyun settling by your feet, so much desire, yet also still hesitation reflected in his eyes. 

He was struggling, and truthfully, you could understand him. What would happen to you, eventually? Tomorrow, next week, in a month or even in a year from now on? But you didn’t want to have regrets, because there had been no time. The truth was, there was always enough time if you didn’t think for too long. 

“Jaehyun…” You started and stretched out your hand, placing it on his cheek where he then gently nudged against your opened palm. “It’s fine.”

He placed his hand on top of yours, still questioning you to be absolutely sure, “Do you… really want this? Do you want this?”

“Jaehyun…” you only whispered and then nodded.

In case he was still holding back, you now completely untied the knot around your bathrobe all by yourself. You let the sleeves slip over your shoulders and revealed your bare chest to him. You were inexperienced and thus undecided whether this was the right move. Perhaps, Jaehyun found it too straight-forward, unfitting for a lady? 

But when he moved to settle between your legs seconds later, lips passionately capturing yours as though he had only been waiting for your consent and was now finally acting on the pent-up desire, you learned in the sweetest way that there was no right or wrong when you loved someone. 

____

Your bathrobes had long been thrown on the ground, the sheets messy, and the things Jaehyun had done to you unimaginable. It was like experiencing fireworks, one after another, stars in front of your eyes and every limb of yours shaking. You were still calming down from your last height after Jaehyun had disappeared with his entire face between your legs. When you initially had wanted to stop him, you now forever wanted him to continue with the moves of his tongue.

You hadn’t known this was possible. The first time you had felt it was when you were lying in his arms, completely naked and turned to him. He had spread your thighs with his hand, only using two of his fingers to make your legs shake in a way that left you twitching and crying out loud in his arms.

At first, you were scared as it was too good. It had seemed impossible for a human to be allowed to feel this way just by the touch of fingers. Yet, Jaehyun proved to you over and over again that you could experience it in the same manner as the first time, overcoming it even until he had you sweaty and whimpering in his arms. 

He had kissed your forehead with a smug grin and let you calm down, even giving you a glass of water before he continued. This time, with his mouth. You had long forgotten how to be embarrassed over these things, chasing height after height until you were nothing more than a shiny sparkle among many in the fireworks that exploded inside you, coming undone and getting pieced back together, again and again. 

When Jaehyun was settling on top of you a little while later, pushing your legs apart with his thighs, you knew what was coming. And even though you had never done this before, which you had admitted to him at the very beginning, you were not scared of it at all. He had said it was not the right place, not the right time. But there was no better time and place than right now.

So you nodded, and he shifted, finding the right angle. After everything, it was so, so easy for Jaehyun to sink into you, and it didn’t hurt at all yet. Until he met resistance and needed to break through it, causing you to let out a gasping sound and your fingernails to dig deep into his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and brushed over the hair covering your forehead, sincere worry mirrored in his eyes.

“Everything is okay,” you assured, taking a few moments for the pain to pass. Then you encouraged him, “It’s fine now, you can go on.”

“But tell me when you want me to stop.”

Jaehyun pressed his lower abdomen harder against yours and continued sliding into you until he was buried deep inside, completely filling you up. You felt connected to him to the last fiber of your body. It was the closest physical bond two lovers could share and you nearly teared up, feeling overwhelmed with happiness to be able to experience this special moment with Jaehyun. 

He was first holding still inside you for having you get adjusted, but then started moving. You could have never imagined that this could feel good and had mentally prepared yourself for discomfort and pain. But there was none of these coming. Instead, it felt pleasurable in ways you were unfamiliar yet familiar with at the same time. It was hard to explain, quite like having found something you had never looked for in the first place.

Every push of Jaehyun inside you made you crave for more and you moved your body to try out different angles, because you felt like there was a certain spot that he sometimes hit where the feeling of pure bliss especially peaked. You came close to having Jaehyun hit the spot with almost every stroke when you stretched out your legs and hooked them around his waist.

“Mhhm, yes,” you breathed. “Just like this. Right there.”

You had your arms now wrapped around his neck, chasing after a feeling you were not quite sure of what it actually was. It was similar to what Jaehyun had caused you to feel before, yet a little different. As though instead of pulling only onto your lower abdomen, it was pulling onto your entire body. You were afraid of what was about to happen if it succeeded, if you would lose your mind completely then. 

Where Jaehyun’s thrusts had been controlled and deliberate before, making sure not to hurt you and to hit the spots where you would feel the most pleasure, he now had lost discipline, his strong will eventually succumbing to the pleasure as well. His movements got sloppier, but also more demanding and stronger, which was not bad at all. Now, you felt it even closer, the pleasure that had first seemed unreachable was tangible. You just needed more…

“Jaehyun, I…” There was not enough strength left to tell him more, but he immediately understood, feeling the same as you.

Jaehyun quickened his thrusts and made them more powerful with the little sanity he had left. He was pushing harder and harder until you only heard him panting, droplets of his sweat collecting on his forehead, his back sweaty, but his eyes full with something beyond desire that you didn’t dare to interpret just yet. 

And it felt like the earth hit the sky as pleasure pulled on every fiber of your limbs, nearly dragging you out of your own body as little sparks exploded in front of you and you lost control of who you were and where you were. You even lost the confirmation of whether this was real or not, but Jaehyun was still holding you, your anchor to prove that everything with him was always real. 

So was this. There was nothing more real than what was between you two. 

____

You were already awake when the first rays of sunshine crept through the drawn curtains. Your clothes were still damp as far as you could make out, but you also still had a few hours left before you had to leave. There was enough time for them to dry a little bit more and for you to…

Quietly, you turned around to Jaehyun, a smile on your lips as you placed your head back on the pillow next to him, watching him sleep so safely and soundly as though he was finally at peace. No, the man lying next to you was not someone who deserved the title of "The Blood Wolf". 

You reached out your hand and traced the outline of his profile. You started from his forehead, then let the tip of your index finger trail along the straight bridge of his nose, and even further down to his lips, where you came to a stop. That was when Jaehyun snatched your hand in one swift motion, and you let out a surprised squeal.

“For how long do you intend to watch me?” he then asked with a smirk, eyes still closed. 

You chuckled. “A while.”

He pulled you close to him and you rested your head on his chest after he had wrapped his arm around you. “On the bus, when you caught me deep in my thoughts… have you willingly told me about your memories?” you asked carefully after a while. “I don't know for how long you remembered, but I really appreciated it.” 

“You seemed to have felt so down, so I figured if I could do anything against it, then it was that.”

“Jaehyun… You don’t have to remember if you don’t want to,” you reassured him. “And if you remember, you don’t have to tell me or anyone else if you're not ready. You can take your time. And if your memories, for some reason, will never return, then it's fine too."

He hesitated before he asked, "Are you sure about that?"

"Absolutely."

By now, you had settled with the conclusion that Jaehyun probably remembered everything, that he had never suffered from memory loss in the first place. You didn’t know what was all true and what was all acting, but being real didn’t mean to be truthful. He could need to hide his past from you and still have the same feelings for you. One thing didn’t exclude the other. Here, in the safety of your privacy, he was realer than ever, and that was all that mattered.

“In the beginning, you said that one day, I would eventually find the reason as to why I have lived through these events, why I am still alive. My purpose,” Jaehyun started again after a while, tightening his embrace around you. “And right now, I’m right in the middle of living it. I’ve been living in it for a while. Since the moment I saw you in danger during the bombing, I’ve known my purpose. And when you were dancing there at the beach yesterday, it was the happiest I’ve ever seen you. You were so carefree, so full of light. I wanted to live in that moment forever with you.”

Jaehyun actually remembered that moment from weeks ago? It seemed like another lifetime and so many things had changed ever since. For example, your feelings towards him.

“I want to experience many more moments like this.” And you added, “Together with you.”

It was the first time he spoke so much, from deep within, letting you into his real thoughts and feelings. You wanted him to always feel safe and comfortable enough to be like this, be his real self. If you could forge a world for only the two of you to remain in, just for him to live with no fear, then you would immediately do so. 

“Jaehyun…?”

But Jaehyun didn’t respond. Instead, he flipped you onto your back with him lying on top of you. 

“No more talking. We only have a few hours left here.”

This. This was so real. 

____

You didn’t know what would await you when you returned to the institution, how long you could still stay together. But for as long as Jaehyun decided against revealing his real identity, you decided to keep this a secret as well. You still didn’t know if he knew, but in your little world that you had built, it didn’t matter. And for as long as you could still live in it, you were willing to remain, alongside him. 

But you had been telling yourself over and over again throughout the past weeks that you never knew what would happen the next day. It could all be taken away from you, in a year, in a month, tomorrow. Or even in an instant. For you, that day was the morning you returned to the clinic. If you had known before, would you have done anything differently? 

“Jeong Yuno, you’re under arrest!” 

The moment you stepped into the institution, police officers burst out from both sides of the lobby. You let out a startled shriek, struggling to process the chaos that had suddenly erupted around you. Why were there so many people, police and hospital staff alike? What did they want from Jaehyun when they were looking for Jeong Yuno? Why was the head nurse snatching you away and separating you from Jaehyun? You didn’t understand. 

“Jae-!” …hyun…?

“Jeong Yuno, you are under arrest for the crimes of illegal border crossing, espionage, and sabotage.”

You had heard these words before, you knew exactly what they meant, but right now, you failed to grasp the meaning behind them and why they suddenly put Jaehyun into handcuffs and not this Yuno person they were actually addressing.

“Please calm down, dear,” the head nurse told you, but her voice sounded so far away. “You will only make it worse for him.”

You would have answered her if you suddenly didn’t have so much trouble breathing. Why were you not able to breathe anymore, watching Jaehyun willingly getting detained? He didn’t even try to defend himself, verbally and physically! Why was he not fighting? They weren’t even looking for him, he didn’t have to go with them! You still had time with him, they had the wrong person! 

“You have the wrong person!” you screamed, but nobody looked at you. Perhaps, it had all been in your head and you had never said a word. Because deep inside, you knew they were right. They had the right person, that was why Jaehyun was willingly getting handcuffed and following them.

Jaehyun was Jeong Yuno.

“I cannot believe it!” a doctor who happened to stand close by you exclaimed. “A citizen - no - a lieutenant from the southern country living among us for months! Thinking back, there sure had been signs, but I thought his condition was to be blamed and that it was nearly impossible to enter our country. Unbelievable!” 

“If the woman from the embassy hadn’t noticed his accent and secretly took a picture of him yesterday, then he could have just stayed here with us,” a nurse whispered. “The rumor occurred that he's known who he was all this time, but never said a word. It's frightening to think about this possibility.”

“He was a second lieutenant who has been searched for all this time,” another nurse added. “No wonder they couldn’t find him. There was no way he could have contacted the southern country. But he didn't do anything, right? He's never been a danger to us, actually.”

What had happened overnight while you were at the hotel? So much previously unknown information had been revealed at once, you weren’t even sure if you had fully processed it all yet. But one thing was clear as day… It was because of you. Because he had wanted to show the beautiful things in life you had never seen before. Because he knew that revealing his true identity was inevitable one day, and if he could give you at least one beautiful day in return for it to happen, he was willing to pay the price. The price of his own freedom. And they came to claim it today.

You instantly felt sick, hands cold and shaking. If it weren’t for the head nurse supporting you, you were sure you would have lost consciousness here and now. Perhaps, that would have been the better option instead of watching the man you loved getting arrested in front of your eyes.  Tears were now streaming down your face and as they led Jaehyun - no, Yuno - off the building, more roughly than necessary. Your gazes locked when he walked past you, just for the break of a second. 

He now knew that you had found out at one point, and even though his eyes were full of sadness, they were full of love as well. Yes, love. And they additionally quickly filled with relief as he realized that you didn’t hate him as he had once expressed. How much he had to hate himself as he had once expressed for not being able to provide more, to give you the entire truth and beyond before this moment, you didn’t want to know.

You understood that he had done all this to protect not only himself, but to protect you as well. If you had revealed the true nature of your relationship to the public, they could arrest you for being his accomplice. But because he had always been so reserved and stoic, there was most likely nothing for you to be worried about. You had always only been a caring nurse. A good nurse.

He may hate himself, but it was the greatest gift he could have given you. No matter whether his name was Jaehyun or Yuno. You would fight for both in the same manner. You would remain by his side. 

____

Yuno woke up in a small concrete cell and was instantly thrown back to the day he had awoken in the snowy mountains. He had been alone back then as well, lying on the frozen ground and awaiting his death. It wasn't much different from this moment, because right now, he was also only waiting for his end.

Yuno had guided his troop as a platoon leader right to the battle area and could only watch in horror as these young, inexperienced men, one by one, fell nearly continuously in number as the enemy unit. And after a hard battle that lasted for days, only him and a soldier from the northern country had been left alive. Barely, with many wounds, but they were still alive. 

It had taken the enemy soldier three days to start talking. All this time, Yuno had mistakenly assumed that he was the last one still breathing, out of both troops. The bullet wound in his leg had already gotten infected and he had started hallucinating from the fever. As he had lifted up his head with his last strength to follow the voice, he had seen an enemy soldier leaning against one of the very few trees. This time, it had not been one of his hallucinations.

The soldier was nearly as pale as the snow, a huge puddle of blood beneath him, and Yuno had silently stated that he wouldn’t make it for so long anymore. Yet, the enemy soldier, a boy way too young for war, had spoken as though he wanted to leave one last message, no matter whether a human could hear it or whether his pleas would only get carried away by the strong winds. Unfortunately, Yuno was a human and still conscious enough to hear it all.

The boy repeated, over and over again, “I don’t want to fight. I miss my family.” The sentence was always followed by a cry that nearly shattered what had been left of Yuno’s cold warrior heart. It caused him to cry as well, for the first time in many, many years. 

Yuno missed being a child, visiting the beach with his parents and eating watermelon. He missed taking short trips to the same destination with his closest friends. He didn’t even know if they were still alive. They had been ordinary men, living an ordinary life. All of them. Until the northern country had attacked. And now they were possibly all dead. Even his enemies. All the soldiers from both countries. They were all ordinary boys deep down who didn’t even want to fight. Yet, they had to. And what for?

Yuno hadn't seen a point in continuing living anymore. Yet, he was forced to do so, day for day, for day, for day. He had wished for death to take him fast and quick, but unfortunately, he had awoken again and again and again. He had continued surviving even with his wounds and he didn’t know why, for which purpose. And he had been too much of a coward to end it all by himself either.

That was until he had heard another troop approach, and not from his side of the country. Sure, he could have stayed there and just got shot on the spot, but his pride had hindered him from dying by his enemy's hands. He wouldn't be taken down by the men who didn't let him live in peace, who had taken all his friends and caused so much suffering in his country.

So he had quickly changed into the enemy’s uniform, got rid of his dog tag - Jeong Yuno - and pretended to have lost all of his memories. It was hard, to say the least. To make up stories and still keep track. To not let his dialect, knowledge and everything slip. To pretend his wound was taking more time to heal, to pretend he needed more treatments than necessary.

He had even used another name, which he had adapted from his good friend, a war refugee from the northern country: Ha Jaehyun. It was the first name that had come to his mind and one surely commonly applied in the northern country. If he had known what exactly he would start by using it, he would have chosen another name. 

The fact that the nurse who had cared for him was the real Ha Jaehyun’s younger sister - the very person he had been trying to reach for so long - was not something Yuno had ever tried to purposefully hide. At least not in the beginning when the hints had still been too weak for him to make a connection. When, after some time, he had been a hundred percent convinced that she was indeed the sister Jaehyun was still searching for, Yuno hadn't known how to tell her without endangering her life and without making her feel gross about using her brother's name with him all this time. So he had tried blending it out whenever possible. Yuno had thought he still had time to flesh out a plan and give her the answers she was desperately needing. He would tell her the next day and the next and the next, when he had come up with a plan. Until no next day had been left anymore. 

Now, it was too late and Yuno was sitting in his cell, awaiting his trial. And even though he had always hated himself more with each passing day for all the lies he was living, the time spent with you had made him hate himself a little less, too. Until nothing had remained of this self-hatred except for the love for you and the realization that there were things still worth living and fighting for. You had taught him so much more than to walk again.

That was why Yuno had let you into glimpses of his past when he had felt how sad you had gotten on the bus, why he had shown you all these places and why he had eventually not stopped what had happened between you at the hotel. For him, that was the purpose of why he had survived. Keeping you happy. And if the price for letting you continue living in peace was his own freedom, then he was willing to give it up and keep you protected. He had fulfilled his purpose for this lifetime. He was finally done and could go.

Yuno just wished he could have told you about your brother and showed his true feelings on more occasions. But because he had to protect you in order for no one to make a connection to his origin country, he had acted so reserved and cautious, constantly frightened his true identity would get busted. But Yuno had no regrets. It was all for love. He had loved you for longer than he had known himself, because you had brought him back to life and had fought for him in ways nobody else had ever done.

“Your trial will take place next week, Yuno,” his lawyer said when he talked to him later that day. It was only thanks to your brother that he had even gotten one. In that case, you two were so similar. “And it looks good. Despite your behavior when getting detained and what people rumor, there isn't much proof that your memory loss was all an act. And your country is fighting very hard for you, especially your friend Jaehyun. Isn't it ironic?”

After all, Yuno's pretense had spared him his life along with yours and everyone else's. And even your brother was helping you from far away, though neither of you were aware yet. You also hadn’t betrayed him by telling the officials what you knew, however much that might be. He had gambled so high, but everything had played out in your favor.

Still, Yuno was confused. “Do you mean I could be set free?”

“What they may not tell is the fact that the war is already coming to an end with this country having lost. At least seventy percent of the towns in the southern borders are gone,” he explained calmly. “You’re not the only person they hold hostage, so it’s a good time to push forward actively.”

It was supposed to be good news, but Yuno couldn’t be happy about it, because even though he hated this country, it meant leaving you. And what meaning was there to his life if he couldn’t live it alongside you?

“Can you please do me a favor?” he then asked the lawyer. 

If you were going to hate him anyway when his entire story came out, then he wanted you to hear the whole truth from himself. If you were to never see him again, then you needed the closure only Yuno was able to give you. This was the last price he was willing to pay. 

____

You didn’t know why Jaehyun’s - no - Yuno’s lawyer wanted to talk to you in private. He had told your supervisors that it was about you being his nurse and that he had questions regarding the time you had treated him. But you had told the officials everything you knew already, and that was almost nothing. Everything regarding Yuno's state, the head nurse, who had also made her statement in favor of him, had told you about, and thus you knew that his trial was about to take place the next day.

When you were left alone in the small office and the lawyer suddenly pulled out a photo on his phone picturing Yuno and your brother Jaehyun both though, you felt like your whole world got flipped upside down once again. This part of the story was something you had never heard of before, and you figured that maybe the head nurse was behind the fact this connection to you had been kept from the public.

“What does that mean?” you asked, voice shaking. You took the phone into your hand, the image nearly blurry from the heavy trembling of your entire body.

Yet, you recognized your brother’s dark hair that was now even longer than when you were kids, strands falling cheekily into his forehead. He was grinning brightly into the camera, seemingly not having aged a bit. You could barely remember a time you had seen him so happy and carefree yourself, not even many, many years ago when he had still worked on the farm before the war. And then Yuno… on the surface, he didn't differ much from his current appearance, but he was glowing just as brightly as your brother. It was so different from his current state. Their clothes were modern pieces you had never seen someone ever wear on the streets here before. It directly clicked with you where exactly this picture had been taken.

“I am specialized in cases involving matters and people from the southern country,” the lawyer started explaining. “First of all, I am not your enemy, miss. I work closely with the southern country’s embassy and the military. Everything we say here will stay between us, you won’t be in any danger and you also won’t endanger Yuno as well as your brother Jaehyun, so please stay close to the truth for their sake. Your supervisor is informed.”

You could only reluctantly bop your head, your gaze not moving from the photo. 

“Have you had any contact with Ha Jaehyun ever since he’s in the southern country, miss?” 

The southern country, the forbidden country. Finally, the missing puzzle piece found its place, completing the entire mystery revolving around your brother's disappearance. That was why no one had ever heard of him again, why he had never contacted you, and why you had never been able to find him as well. Why his entire existence had just gotten swept under the rug as though he had never existed in the first place. Your brother had committed treason. But would someone living in a country that was so poor and neglected smile so brightly? What did all this mean? Had Yuno known the whole time? 

“Your brother, Ha Jaehyun, is Jeong Yuno’s good friend. Yuno's troop found him shortly after the war had started and took him in after he surrendered. The southern country is not as cruel and poor as you might get taught here, but please let this stay between us.” Busting streets, flashing lights, buildings that nearly reached the clouds… Where Yuno came from and your brother currently resided, did these things truly exist? “As a matter of fact, many soldiers from the north currently reside there as war refugees after they surrendered. This country has lost the war, and Jaehyun took the chance to push for Yuno’s release as well as his return to the southern country.”

“Did Yuno know?” you asked with a shaky voice. “The fact that his friend Jaehyun is my brother?”

The lawyer shook his head. “Not until much later. And even then, he was struggling. You have to understand that the more you knew, the more dangerous the entire situation would have become for you. After all, what would you have done with the information? What could you have done to contact Jaehyun? But Yuno intended to tell you before it got too late."

You handed the phone back to the lawyer, suddenly having a bitter taste linger on your tongue. At this point, you wished you didn’t know at all. You wished you hadn’t gotten to know the whereabouts of your brother, because now it hurt even more. To know that he was alive and well, but you could never talk to him again. This… this was the worst. 

And when Yuno returned to the southern country, you would lose another person you loved. You didn’t know how to cope with the pain at this point. You were aware that Yuno had never had bad intentions by acting how he had acted and making the decisions he had made. But all good intentions aside… You couldn’t shake the feeling of deception that now resonated with the pain of losing them both. 

You were happy for your brother, but you were also mad at him at the same time. Why had he not tried harder, faster and longer to get in contact with you? Why had he let you rot here while he had built his happy life in a seemingly better country? But then you thought about your parents and about the war, and suddenly felt so guilty for having these thoughts in the first place even. Jaehyun and Yuno had never wanted to hurt you, you were sure about that. Yet, why were tears of anger burning on the rims of your eyes?

Was it because every time you had said your brother's name even after Yuno had gotten the confirmation of your ties to him, he had willingly accepted it? Was it because you had still called Yuno by your brother’s name the night you had spent at the hotel? Was that why, in the beginning, Yuno had always seemed so uncomfortable being addressed as Jaehyun?

"Why had he used my brother's name?" you wanted to know. He could have used anyone else's. Why this, out of all the names he knew? It was just too much of a coincidence. All of this.

"Yuno treasures Jaehyun very much and constantly thinks fondly of him. The moment Yuno was about to be found alive by the enemy troop in the mountains, it was the first name that came into his mind as Jaehyun is from the north. He didn’t need a name in the first place, but in that situation, he had acted on an impulse and only came up with the memory loss story later."

They were this close? Only in the morning that you had spent together in the hotel room, you had assumed that being true and being real were two different things. But now, you were questioning even that. Yuno could have omitted the truth about everything else, you wouldn’t have cared. But about your own brother? How were you supposed to get over this? 

“Yuno also wanted me to tell you that Jaehyun has never stopped looking for you. He was talking about you every single day and told everyone that one day, he would get you to be with him again.”

Then, why wasn’t he here? Why was he smiling so happily into a camera with the only person who had known his whereabouts, but had refused to tell you about it? “Is that so…” You wiped the tears from your cheeks, then curled your hands into fists. The tips of your fingernails buried deep into your palms, but you didn’t mind the pain. It relieved some of your anger even. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“This is not the reason why I came here, miss." He paused. "I want to propose a deal to you and I need you to listen.”

____

“Are you happy you can leave soon, Cheol?”

“I am very happy!” The boy lifted up his hands and pumped his fists in the air. “I am so happy my mother will work in the city again and that I can go with her!”

“And I am so proud of you!” you happily ruffled the little boy's hair, but your lips stayed a straight line, no matter how much you wanted to join his laughter. 

Lately, you couldn’t bring yourself to wholeheartedly be happy or even laugh anymore. Every smile felt fake, every slight expression of happiness forced. There was a stinging pain in your heart that remained, and with each day that passed, grew even bigger. You feared that it would crash your whole existence one day.

“But I will miss you, miss. And I will miss Jaehyun. Will I ever see him again?”

There was a huge lump in your throat that you had to swallow with much resistance before you were able to answer, “He will try to come back and say goodbye to you.”

Cheol was still too young to understand what had happened to Yuno, to you. So you had come to an agreement with the other nurses that you would tell him only that his friend Jaehyun had needed treatments at another hospital and silently hoped he would eventually forget about the friend that had read to him every so often. You wished you could forget as well.

“Now, our reading lesson is over," you ended the topic. "So get a bit of rest and we will see each other tomorrow, alright?”

“Yes, miss!”

It had been a month since you talked to the lawyer and ever since, you had been trying to continue with your old life as best as possible. But you would need to lie if you said it wasn’t hard. Yuno's room was occupied again, but it didn’t hurt less passing by it, so you avoided that floor altogether. Too painful were the memories that would flood back whenever you set foot inside the hallway even. Memories of which you doubted had been real after all.

“I need to talk to you.” You had just left Cheol’s room when the head nurse was already positioned by the door, apparently waiting for you. “You haven’t been yourself lately and I’m worried.”

One day, you had told her the entire story after everything she had done to help Yuno, and ever since then, she was constantly asking about your well being, which you had always brushed off. “I’m fine, please don’t worry.”

“Tell me… When Cheol is gone, will you stay here?”

Honestly, you didn’t know. First, you had only come here to gather information on your brother’s whereabouts. Then, Cheol gave you a reason to enjoy your occupation a bit more. Jaehyun was the final reason you never wanted to leave again and if so, only with him. Now that you had none of them left, was there truly a reason to stay? 

“How about accepting the lawyer’s offer? After all, they had fought hard at Yuno's trial for you to meet him before his deportation,” the head nurse suddenly proposed. “Isn’t one month enough to think about it? I have always held myself back from asking you, but I’m on your side and I’ve always been, whatever you decision might be.”

You wondered when, during this very long month, you had suddenly turned so cold and indifferent that you had failed to notice the sincere worry and fear in her eyes. It was like your heart had hardened and you hadn't been able to find a way to break through the shell. “I told him I would still make up my mind.” 

“Today is the day of Yuno's deportation. It’s your last chance to possibly ever see him again.”

You knew. Ever since this morning, you had closely monitored the clock. They had offered you to meet Jaehyun one last time for a talk, and you had possibly needed it desperately, but you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to go. And now, it was already too late. 

“Why would I meet up with 'The Blood Wolf'?” you asked with a voice that didn’t seem to belong to you. “He lied to me. I cannot forgive him.”

“Oh dear… a man who loves someone as much as Yuno loves you doesn’t deserve the name 'Blood Wolf'. I thought we had already agreed on that. Don’t pine away. He wouldn’t want you to live the rest of your life in misery.”

If misery was everything that was left of your frayed heart, then why were you crying now? With widened eyes, you quickly wiped away the tears. You had shed too many already, and he didn’t deserve a single one more. But why couldn’t you stop crying then? Was it because, after everything, you had long understood and forgiven him, but had been too reluctant to admit that? If someone deserved to live the rest of their lives in misery, then it was truly you for having taken so long, for biting time, because you were too much of a coward.

“I- I don’t- know.”

“You had the chance to tell the authorities the truth, yet you had been quiet all this time.”

You dropped your head, feeling the head nurse’s warm arm pulling you into an embrace as you cried, “Of course I would never do something like that! He deserves to go back and see his family and friends again despite what he has done! I just can’t… I just can’t see him again... It hurts too much.”

“You lied for him to be safe, isn’t it the same?” she questioned as you sobbed into her shoulder. “Was it really so grave what he has done that you are willing to hold it against him for the rest of your life? Or will you be grateful he has offered you the gift of loving and being loved in return, and that you can finally move on and live in peace and freedom as you deserve?”

“You also haven’t told anyone about what you knew.”

“I’m old, dear.” She patted your back a few times, then brought distance between you two so that she could look directly into your glassy eyes with an encouraging smile. “We all just want for this war to be over, right? And I don’t mean the one between countries only.”

You were grateful for her words that soothed your heart, just a little bit. “It’s too late now. He’s almost gone already.”

____

Yuno's trial had gone by quickly and formally. He had requested to still see someone before his deportation, and they had allowed him to. But nobody had come to see him. Not during his time in detention, not before he had gotten into the car, not even here at the border. You hadn't come, hadn't wanted to see him one last time. He could understand.

The day of Yuno's deportation was the hottest summer day since living undercover in a country he had been taught to hate so much. Yes, so many things were exactly like the rest of the world knew: the strict monitoring of its citizens, the sparse population living in so much poverty, and the old technology as well as the lack of access to it. 

But Yuno had also come to like being disconnected from so much social media, the consumption of the newest trends and a fast-paced mindset. It had definitely made him reflect on the way he had lived his life so far. He had gotten to know a few great people and the hospitality of a foreign nation that was so different, yet so similar to his own.

Yuno was brought to the border in handcuffs by two officers and his lawyer. They had come with five cars to this military checkpoint, but the officials were still less in number than what the southern country had pulled up with. Behind the barricade, around a hundred meters away, Yuno saw soldiers lined up, mirroring the row of men having gathered on the northern side. All this act just to deliver him, a broken, unarmed soldier? It was ridiculous. War and everything, it was all so ridiculous when there was just so much more to life. Yuno saw it clearly now.

“Yuno, I’ll have to bid farewell to you now too.” His lawyer patted him on his shoulder. “I’m sorry she didn’t come. I tried my best.”

“I know.” He nodded, bottom lip quivering. “Thank you so much. For everything.”

There was so much more Yuno wanted to say, because if it hadn’t been for him, he wouldn’t even have gotten the chance to get away alive, most probably. But he couldn’t bring himself to say much more, because for every reason to be happy, the pain of losing you would remain for the rest of his life. 

So Yuno dragged himself to the one and only zone where peace was newly preserved between the two countries. During his imprisonment, he had heard that the two countries would soon enter an official armistice agreement again, that was why it was so quiet nowadays. No further information of when or if the war would entirely ever come to an end. Yuno doubted it would still happen in this lifetime for him. 

Yuno was already close to crossing the border. He was only a few steps away when he heard his name being shouted by someone that made him stop in his tracks altogether. No… it wasn’t possible.

“Yuno!... Yuno!”

Yuno spun around, only to see you restrained by two soldiers on either side, their grips tight around your arms. You struggled fiercely to break free, but a lone woman stood little chance against two trained men. But you had come, that was all that mattered. After all, you had come for him.

So Yuno did the only right thing for him at that moment and started running back towards you. If you couldn’t reach him, then he would go to you, as it had always been. Being separated by two fighting countries hadn’t hindered him from finding you. And if it had been fate or a concatenation of coincidences that had brought you together, it was irrelevant. He had never lost his purpose, his reason to live. As long as you lived, so would he.  

Yuno heard the sound of weapons getting positioned and then unlocked. The horrified expression on your face confirmed that the soldiers were aiming at him, but he kept running. Yuno didn't believe that it would end like this. The two soldiers restraining you were suddenly distracted by the escalating commotion, torn between keeping hold of you and preparing to shoot him down. In that split second of hesitation, you seized the opportunity. You wrenched yourself free from their grasp and sprinted towards Yuno.

He was perplexed when only a moment later, he stumbled backwards and needed to catch his balance when you threw yourself right into his arms. Yuno still processed what was currently happening when you already started speaking, “I understand, I understand, you don’t need to explain!” you breathed, nearly stumbling over your own syllables. “I understand everything!”

Yuno heard shouting in the background, but he blended it all out, because he didn’t know how much time you had left. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed you tightly against his body, feeling you nudging against his chest with the same yearning. “I needed to protect you.”

“I know. Please don’t feel guilty anymore. Don’t hate yourself anymore, because I don’t. I forgive you, and so should you!”

Why did it sound like a goodbye forever? Yuno ground his teeth together and placed his forehead on your parting. He didn’t want you to witness him crying and remember him that way. He had prepared so many words for this exact moment, but now he couldn’t think of a single one. Except for…

“I’ll love you even from the other side,” he brought himself to say after all. “And when everything is over, I’ll come get you with your brother.”

“Put your weapons down!” Yuno then overheard someone, possibly his lawyer, screaming in the distance. “Don’t you see they’re not a threat?!”

They were still here, Yuno suddenly painfully remembered. You didn’t have much time left anymore. He had never feared for something so much in his life and tried to shield your body with his bigger one in case either country opened fire. 

“Will you tell me brother I love him and always think of him?”

“I will.”

“And then, will you come get me?” you asked quietly, now slowly lifting your head and looking up at him with teary eyes. “When it’s possible, will you really come get me? Do you promise? No matter how long it takes?”

Yuno brushed a few strands that had gotten loose behind your ears and cupped your face, staring at it for longer than he was allowed. But he wanted to remember everything, capture every inch of your face in detail as he had not even gotten a picture of you. You would only live on his memories from the moment you parted. “I promise.”

When Yuno was dragged away with much violence, his promise was everything that you were left with. The entire car ride back to the clinic, you were petrified as though your entire life had been ripped out of your body with Yuno’s departure. Back at the institution, you had such a severe breakdown that the head nurse had to sedate you. 

Right after these events, you quit your occupation and never set foot into a city or walked along a beach ever again. Right after these events, you vanished. 

____

Only three years later, Yuno was able to fulfill his promise to you. 

Ever since he had returned to his home country, Yuno, along with Jaehyun, had worked on making it possible for his little sister to relocate to the southern country. After the ceasefire, it had gotten slightly easier since the northern nation had been severely damaged - outwardly and inwardly. Some officials even spoke about an end of the war in the near future. Yet, Yuno quite didn't believe in it.

Even though Yuno and Jaehyun had known the exact locations of your workplace and your parents’ house, they had only received negative feedback from the broker for two years. The first time, you hadn’t been at the institution. The head nurse had said you had moved back to your parents' house right after Yuno's deportation. The second time, you hadn't been at your parents’ house. Yuno had feared for quite some time that they had arrested you after all, but your parents had eventually confirmed that you were still there, just living with your grandparents a few villages away.

The third time, the broker’s employees had found your location. After three long years, Yuno could finally get you. Or so he had thought.

“What do you mean it will cost more?” Yuno had yelled into the phone.

“It will cost double,” the broker had answered.

“We have agreed on the price, so just bring her here already!”

“Them,” the broker corrected him.

“… Them?”

“It costs double, because it’s two people. She refuses to go alone. So either you pay the price for two people or they will leave without them.”

“What do you mean?” Yuno was so confused, but also didn’t have time left to argue with him any longer. “Whatever it costs, just bring her here and everyone she wants to bring with her, I don’t care!”

Yuno wondered whether he should have asked for details, but before he could get back to the broker, he had already confirmed that everything had gone as planned, not even twenty four hours later. So Yuno had naturally assumed it was a parent or another acquaintance you couldn't leave behind alone. Perhaps, it was even Cheol. What truly mattered was that you were finally to reunite with him and Jaehyun.

A week later, Jaehyun had only sent Yuno to pick you up. He had said you might want to see your brother the most, but you needed to see Yuno first. Yuno highly looked up to his friend for stepping back, even though he had every right to handle the situation differently. This was only one of the many things Yuno admired Jaehyun for and thus considered him a good, close friend.

Perhaps, it was a personal gift that Jaehyun had wanted to return to Yuno after he had told him everything about his little sister and had taken care of her for the time he had resided in the northern country. Right now, Jaehyun was waiting back there in the southern country while Yuno was in this foreign nation's airport to reunite with the woman he loved after three long years without contact. 

There were many things he had to tell you in person. For example, the fact that you had become an aunt. Jaehyun had specifically given him a picture of the little boy for this occasion that he had to show you. And also the fact that Yuno had already set a date to register your wedding. Time was fleeting and he didn’t want to hesitate about anything he was absolutely sure of anymore. 

The beating of Yuno's heart always got intermittent whenever the automatic door opened and the nervousness never dwindled when a person, who was not you, walked out of the door and into the arrival hall. Yuno was asking himself if you still recognized him, even with slightly longer hair and more modern clothes. For him, he could always recognize you in a sea of strangers, no matter how many years had passed.

And when you finally walked through the automatic door, Yuno immediately did so. Among a sea of strangers, he instantly recognized you for he had your entire face explicitly remembered. You hadn’t changed one bit. You looked so beautiful, yet a bit intimidated as you didn’t spot him directly. He could understand though as you had never been outside of the country before and the environment could be so overwhelming.

The moment your gazes found each other though, your face immediately lightened up and Yuno already started moving towards you when his eyes fell on something next to you. Or better say, on someone that now stood by your side. 'It’s two people,' he heard the broker repeat in his head, and suddenly, it all made sense. Why you had disappeared and moved, why the broker had refused to risk more for the same amount of money.

The little girl next you, who was holding your hand tightly with curious eyes, was the spitting image of yours. Of course you hadn't wanted to leave the country without your daughter. Yuno didn’t know what had happened in the past three years and he was too happy over your reunion now to do the math. In the end, it all didn’t matter anyway, because it changed nothing for him. He would have done it all the same. 

As Yuno welcomed you and your little daughter with wide arms, he came to the conclusion that this little girl was the reason you had continued living and waiting. And she, along with you, were now the reason he would continue appreciating being alive more than ever as well.

Because when Yuno looked a bit closer, the bridge of your daughter’s nose strikingly resembled his own and the way her nose scrunched up when she was laughing mirrored his own features.

“Is there enough space for us two?” you asked.

“There is enough space for us three,” Yuno confirmed. 

He didn’t ask questions yet, he didn’t need to. Time was not fleeting anymore. Now, you had a lifetime with each other. Now, you remained.

[sanakiras]

LIAR, LIAR!

PAIRING — kim mingyu x fem!reader

❝ AND THE DANCE FLOOR IS FILLING UP WITH BLOOD, BUT OH LORD, YOU’VE NEVER BEEN SO IN LOVE! ❞

WORD COUNT — 13.5k

SYNOPSIS — in a dramatic turn of events, a rich businessman is found dead in his lavish estate, and the authorities believe it was no accident. as the detectives dig deeper, they ultimately end up with two key suspects: you, the businessman’s very own daughter, and your sworn enemy, kim mingyu. as the time progresses, tensions rise and secrets spill — and the truth has the power to either bring you closer together or tear you apart.

TAGS — murder mystery, rich rivals to partners in crime to lovers, whole lotta plot, explicit sexual content, somewhat graphic depictions of death, everyone and everything is dysfunctional™, mentions of suicide, unrealistic circumstances, moral compass is nowhere to be found, angst, medium long hair!gyu bc self-indulgence, tsundere-ish reader again guys sorry i love her so bad, mentions of parental neglect, this ended up so long help

♪ — wolves (cover) by verydeadly / dancing and blood by low / red sex (restrung) by vessel / mermaids by florence + the machine / who are you, really? by mikky ekko / alone by q / tenemos que hablar by danna paola / i want you by summer camp

NOTE — one of my favorite episodes of going seventeen remains bad clue 2020, i loved mingyu’s role in it and i could totally see him portraying darker/morally grey characters and rock tf out of it so. i wrote this solely based on that idea :D

[ RETURN TO PART ONE ] ✧˚ · .⋆ ★ [ TWO ]

viii. I LOVE YOU LIKE A DRUG

november has a harsh cold to it that goes right through the skin of your cheeks. with your long black coat and matching gloves, you walk through the city, heading towards your lawyer’s office.

it’s been a few days since you last saw or talked to mingyu. you’ve been thinking about the kiss constantly, unable to stop it from clouding your mind. it’s hard to believe you hated his guts for years and completely changed your opinion on him within months — he took you by surprise on that. which you’re not sure how you feel about.

it’s as if his handprints were etched into your skin. you can still remember exactly how it felt, where they were. more importantly, perhaps, you know what your mind keeps leading to when the memory runs through your head.

that you want nothing more than for him to put his hands on you again. you want him so much that you have to clench your fists and tell yourself to get it together.

the universe must like to mess with you, as you receive a text from him at that exact moment. stopping in your tracks on the street, you’re just about to read it when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

once you’ve looked up from your phone, you see the devil himself standing there with a meek little smile on his face, which has you scoffing when he greets you. “hi.”

his dark hair is slicked back as he sports a thick winter jacket, jeans and black shoes. god, he’s handsome. why is he so annoying?

instead of responding to his greeting, you just speak your mind. “what’re you doing here?”

“chan mentioned you had an appointment in the neighborhood, so here i am. i wanted to see you.”

“why?”

“what, am i not allowed to visit my partner in crime?”

you purse your lips. “i thought we both agreed on discretion regarding our relationship.”

“and what kind of relationship is that?”

“an understanding.” your response comes out colder than anticipated, but you stick with it. “look, gyu, what we did… we probably shouldn’t do it again.”

he seems surprised. and a little disappointed, which he hides very quickly, but not quick enough.

so he pouts at you, doing his best not to dwell on it. “okay. any particular reason?”

you inhale sharply, trying to give him the best possible excuse you can come up with. “we agreed to keep it professional, didn’t we?”

“we did.” he nods, speaking in a way as if he were focusing on something else. “is that all there is to it? or do you have another reason?”

his gaze is playful, which makes you smile as you look down at your feet for a moment. “i’m sure you can fill the blanks.”

“interesting choice of words.”

“god, you’re such a perv.”

mingyu laughs when you punch his shoulder, his hand comfortable on your lower back. you don’t swat it away, utterly contradicting your previous words, but you can’t find it in yourself to care that much.

two days later, you’re over at his apartment, continuing your research where you left off last week, and you’re not sure if you’re imagining things, but it feels like there is a palpable tension in the air. soft rain taps against the windows while you’re looking at some security footage his friend seungkwan sent over about an hour ago.

with the two of you sitting beside eachother as you’re looking at the screen of your laptop, you find it difficult to focus on the footage, because you feel electrified by his mere presence. it’s ridiculous. he accidentally brushes your knee with your hand, and you feel a rush going through your body. a candle is lit on the table — his tan skin looks beyond beautiful, his brown eyes piercing through yours like never before.

you want him.

you. want. him. and no one else.

it’s driving you nuts, and as if he can read your mind, he begins to talk about it.

“i haven’t been able to stop thinking about our kiss.”

while the footage keeps playing in the background, you bite your lip, sucking in a breath. “gyu.” you say his name in a near scolding manner.

“do you like me?” he suddenly turns his head to face you, which feels borderline intrusive. like he’s able to see everything that’s going on in your head and heart.

it steals your breath, making your voice sound somewhat strained as a result, and you can’t even bring yourself to lie about it any longer. “i might.”

“i like you. a lot.” he says, and when you think he’s getting closer to you, you stand up from your seat, doing whatever you need to do to get it back together. you don’t want him to know how you really feel, so you clench your fists in your place, your back facing him.

“what does it matter? we’re nothing more than partners. that’s all there is to it.”

as you shake your head to yourself, he gets up as well, moving to stand behind you. “is that why you kissed me?”

“it was just the heat of the moment.”

“you’re a good liar — but not that good.” mingyu shamelessly eyes your body up and down, and when you look over your shoulder, he meets your gaze with something that appears to resemble pride, in a way.

arrogance, perhaps.

for whatever reason, that ticks something off in you. “you want me to be honest? fine. i don’t want to like you, mingyu. i didn’t want to enjoy that kiss. i’ve spent years hating you to the bone, and changing that opinion on you feels like betraying myself.”

he blinks at your sudden and blunt confession, but it’s honest and clear to him.

then he nods in understanding.

“just… hypothetically, if i said i wanted to kiss you again, what would you do?”

you notice a clear difference in his tone, his breathing, his eyes dropping down to your lips — oh, he’s fucking turned on. he knows you want him as badly as he wants you. you both know it.

“i’d tell you it was a one-time thing.”

he gets closer to you, eyelids hanging low and the hint of that damn smirk tugging at his mouth. “how about one more? for good measure. just to get our rocks off.”

the proposition is almost laughable, yet you selfishly find yourself agreeing. “just once?”

“just once.” the palm of his hand cups your jaw, and you know you’re done for when you lean in first, causing him to smile triumphantly right before his lips lock with yours.

this is what you’ve both been yearning for the past week. now that you have it, it feels like drugs, almost — addicting.

you kiss him with vigor, and his tongue slips into your mouth, leaving you aching for more. it’s when his hand pulls you closer by your waist that you force yourself to back away from him, both you and him gasping for air.

“gyu, we were supposed to—”

“keep things professional, i know,” he breathes out, his forehead resting against yours as if he has to make the biggest decision of his life, “but i don’t want to anymore.”

his hands are still on your waist, trailing down to the flesh of your upper legs, and he squeezes it, feeling sick at the idea of someone touching you there that’s not him.

“need you so bad. please — let me touch you.”

looking at his desperate form for a moment, you internally decide to go for whatever your body wants — and that’s to have him tonight.

so you roll your eyes, pulling him to you by his black t-shirt, your hands on the back of his neck before he can comprehend it. he hoists you up by the back of your thighs, taking you to his spacious bedroom.

your back touches the soft bed within seconds. his hands continue to glide up and down your body, and he subtly puts his one hand underneath the hem of your shirt, fingers touching your warm skin, and you almost forget to breathe.

mingyu feels your fingers pulling at the waistband of his jeans, and he relishes in how eager you are. he kisses your neck and moves lower painfully slowly, causing you to writhe underneath him, because you need him now.

it’s certainly a first for you to have such a need and desperation to fuck someone. and for him, of all people. if you had known about this in the morning, you wouldn’t have believed it.

but then again, the tension has been brewing between you two for years, reaching its highest point over the last couple weeks.

maybe he was onto something when he suggested for you to fuck him back in the strip club.

his lips are touching your bare stomach, and you show a hint of dominance by undoing the buttons of your pants and shoving down your panties, putting your hand on his head to guide it between your legs.

and he just lets you.

he takes your pants and underwear from your ankles and discards the pieces on the floor, hands on the back of your thighs once more as he pushes them to lean over his shoulders.

the first few seconds are spent basking in his excitement. his heart races when he looks you in the eye, and he grins to himself before diving in.

for some reason, he feels this primal urge to prove himself to you, to make you feel good like no one ever has before.

whatever the hell it is that made him have such a massive change of heart, he doesn’t know.

but he does know one thing — he worships the ground you walk on.

so to hear you gasp and whine for him when he eats you out only spurs him on to keep going, to make it dirtier and messier and keep having you moan his name.

mingyu encourages you to pull on his hair, and with each strand being pulled, he grows harder in his pants. he moans at the pain, humming against your pussy while his tongue is buried inside you.

you’re grinding against his face and he hums again, loving the feeling. “rub it in my face, baby, ‘s so good—” he babbles as his cock is rock-hard and throbbing against the fabric of his jeans, and he rubs his hard-on against the matress to get any kind of friction.

over the course of the years, even while hating him, you wondered if he was good in bed.

you didn’t think your question was going to be answered by first-hand experience.

he’s not only sickeningly good at providing pleasure — he seems to get off on it, too. your fingers clamp on his long strands of hair, thighs around his head, almost suffocating him, and even when you hit your first climax, he just keeps going. his tongue moves as if you’re not completely crumbling before him.

with a sudden sensitivity hitting you, you have to pull his face from your pussy, and he looks at you with lust-blown eyes and your wetness smeared over his lips and chin.

yeah, you fucking like him. jesus.

the little fang-shaped teeth he has show themselves when he grins at the mess he’s made of you. “want me to go again?”

“would you?”

“i’d keep going for hours if that’s what you want.”

pressing your lips together, you inhale deeply, ‘cause he looks like he means it, too. “well, as great as that sounds, i want you in me. now.”

he would’ve had a damn field trip eating you out again, but he certainly won’t complain, because he’s about to bust in his pants from just looking at you. his eyes return to your figure when you take your shirt off, dick twitching when you unclasp your lacy bra and show your completely bare body to him.

“are you just gonna keep staring?” you ask teasingly, and he needs a few seconds to get his brain running again, chuckling at your words before he removes his own clothes, pushing you back to lay you down.

“can’t help that i like what i see.”

you’re about to give him a witty retort in return when you feel the tip of his cock at the entrance of your hole, pushing forward just the slightest bit, and your lashes flutter at the sensation. he bites his lower lip at the feeling, a sudden intensity hitting the both of you.

then he pushes himself inside, inch by inch, achingly slowly. your brows scrunch together and you throw your head back, manicured nails digging into his bedsheets.

“hah—gyu—” you mumble, tension setting into your shoulderblades as he stretches you open, and you’re so tight that he feels just as suffocated as you do.

“fuck, you’re fucking tight.” he huffs out, utterly savoring your wetness wrapping around him. “can i keep going?”

at hearing the question, a breathy laugh escapes you. “how fucking big are you to have to ask that?”

“well, ‘m only halfway in right now, baby.”

fucking hell. the look on your face is borderline horrified, because jesus, you’re gonna need to adjust to him.

he lowers his chest to hover above yours, and your hands immediately move to his back, nails aching to dig into his skin. he’s only focused on your face now, and he pushes himself in all the way, watching your face contort in pain and pleasure.

your body stiffens for a second before it relaxes, and he has to hold down the urge to start moving. “that’s it. took me all the way in,” he mutters, and you nod to yourself, accidentally clamping down on him, at which he groans.

the first movements are small, slow — gentle. you release long, dragged-out moans that are the single hottest thing he’s ever heard. but he needs more, needs to get rid of the little voice in his head to fuck you hard and stupid.

he pulls out almost entirely before slamming back in, and the erotic whine you let out is just too good to his ears.

so he does it again, again, again. he fucks you to the point a different part of him takes over, ruthlessly seeking the pleasure and pain that gets him off like nothing else. he likes it fast, hard, and deep, and by the looks of it, you do too.

you’re clinging onto him with every thrust, every kiss, every moan, and he loves it.

mingyu moans, eyebrows knitted together as he’s hypnotized by the feeling of himself sheathed all the way inside you. “take it — take my fucking cock.”

“mhm. a little harder — please?” you beg, and if he wasn’t in love with you yet, he certainly is now. how on earth do you look as gorgeous as you do whilst half fucked-out, still needing more?

naturally, he gives in to you, doing whatever you ask of him. he fucks you harder, his grip on your waist tightening with each thrust.

you come to one conclusion — you don’t think anyone’s ever fucked you this good.

his mouth latches onto your tits, sucking at your nipples, and you bring his head up to kiss him again. it’s sloppy, and his movements begin to slow a little, your wetness dripping down his cock. “god, you’re fucking perfect.”

“want more, gyu. i want you to cum in me.”

“you—” he stutters out, “you want it?”

nodding at him, you even push yourself against him, his cock sinking just a little deeper into you.

so he fucks you as hard as he can until he feels himself hitting that blissful climax, continuing to roll his hips and stuff you as full of him as possible. then he sits up with a thin layer of cold sweat on his back, and he pulls himself out as slowly as he entered you, watching drops of cum seep out of your hole.

“so much for professional.” you breathe out, after which you both chuckle, and he leans in to kiss you again, and you get on top of him, taking charge, and he shivers in anticipation.

the night becomes an increasing blur with every kiss, every touch, every thrust — it’s hard to say what time it is or how many times you’ve gone at it when you finally let yourself sink into a deep sleep.

when you wake up beside him in the morning, you watch his sleeping form, your heart flutters.

it’s bizarre how he’s made you feel a kind of love you didn’t even know existed before. a feeling of great complexity and intensity that’s settled deep into your gut whenever he’s near.

as if he’s become a part of you that you can’t let go.

checking your phone, you know it’s time to get up, since you’ve got an important agenda today. yet when you try to silently slip away from his bed, you feel a warm hand on yours.

“don’t go.” he pleads, his voice lower and raspier than usual from sleeping. there’s a certain desperation in his now open eyes, and it affects you.

“i have to. appointments i can’t cancel, you know what that’s like—”

but he’s not talking about your day.

“i’m afraid of people leaving me,” he suddenly admits with a shaky tone, “and i like what we have. i like you. i guess i’m scared that… this was just a one-time thing, ‘cause it wasn’t for me. i don’t want to go back to what we were before all of this.”

processing his words, you nod, touching his cheek, reassuring him. “it wasn’t a one-time thing for me, either. you have me, i promise.”

“okay.” he gently smiles at you, his fingers caressing yours, and you lean in to press a kiss onto his lips, which he immediately reciprocates.

you give him a quick goodbye after putting your clothes on, and he’s left smiling to himself in bed while you walk out of his apartment with the same expression.

but you should know by now that all good things come to an end — one way or another.

ix. WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?

the two weeks since your first time sleeping together have been nothing but excitingly ignorant bliss. in between his meetings and family commitments and your meetings regarding your father’s business relations, you’ve been meeting eachother in the middle at every opportunity, the investigation of your father’s death fading into the background bit by bit, getting lowered on your list of priorities.

none of your friends are aware of your relationship — since it’s a secret, and neither of you have really labelled it yet — as far as you know, anyway.

being with him is comfortable to you, and surprisingly enough, he’s the first person who’s made you feel like you could breathe properly after the chaos that your father’s death caused.

“do you really have to go out at this hour?”

“yeah, unfortunately.” he presses a kiss to your lips before pulling his shirt on while you’re still naked on his bed. “i’ll be back as soon as i can, but you don’t have to wait for me, okay? it’s probably gonna take a while.”

with a sigh, you nod, pouting a little. “okay. i’ll probably go take a shower and head home after.”

he kisses the top of your head this time, and it all feels awfully domestic.

but it’s a good feeling.

mingyu takes in the sight of your bare face and body covered in nothing but his sheets, and he feels like things were meant to be like this. like you two were always indirectly tied together, and now this is your reality.

“you’re allowed to stay as long as you want. i’ll call you later, baby, yeah?” he hums against your lips, and you nod, wanting nothing more than to pull his shirt off and drag him back into bed with you.

“mhm. you should go, or you’ll be late.”

he chuckles, his mouth grazing the top of your hand before he exits the room, slinging his bag over his shoulder and leaving you alone in his apartment.

after taking a short nap, you decide to get up and take a quick shower.

this might be the first time you’re completely on your own in his place — so you feel like checking out what he’s got lying around here.

it’s not because you don’t trust him, truly. you just like to snoop around a little, out of curiosity.

you peek into his drawers, his closet, his personal things, except for what he’s got kept under lock and key.

what intrigues you are the clear scratches on the floor by the cupboard. everything in his apartment is perfectly clean and clearly well taken care of, so this makes you raise a brow.

you figure the scratches were made by moving the cupboard to the side, so you do the same thing, trying to see if there’s a particular reason for it.

it’s hard to contain a scoff once you lay your eyes on what is apparently hiding behind it.

a safe hidden behind a cupboard. seriously? did he take inspiration from your father’s office or something? this is starting to get a bit weird.

the safe seems to require a code with six digits to be unlocked, and since the system and mechanics seem on the older side, you doubt it would send off any signals if someone tried out a wrong code.

biting your lip, you give in to your curiosity, and try out a few codes.

a popular choice for codes are always birthdays, often loved ones, and since mingyu is a complete softie in that regard, you figure it might be worth trying out.

you remember his father’s birthday from the tombstone at the graveyard where your father was buried as well. his mother celebrated her birthday last week, so that’s easy.

unfortunately, neither of the codes work.

fuck, what was his sister’s birthday again? you don’t remember. then an idea pops up in your head – she probably made a birthday post on social media at some point. you search the username and scan her profile, and within a minute, you’ve found it.

with your phone in hand, eyes going from the screen to the rotating dials, you enter the code, and the sound of a clicking lock causes your heartbeat to quicken.

it worked.

throwing your phone onto the bed, you open the safe, several items catching your eye.

there’s quite some things in there considering it’s such a small space. some stacks of money, a few vials with clear liquids in them, a gun, a passport with his photo but a different name — what the fuck is this? his backup plan to start a new life in case he needs it? that’s close to paranoid, especially for a guy who seemingly has no enemies.

behind the piles of dollar bills, you find a few old-fashioned cassette recorders stacked up, each of them numbered from one to ten.

as your curiosity gets the better of you once more, you take the recorders out of the safe and put them on the floor, where you sit down to listen to whatever’s on them.

you click the button at the back of the device, noise beginning to crack through the small speaker.

“i know recording myself confessing to something as grave as this could be my downfall, but… it’s something i need to get off my chest. i need to.” your hear him inhale sharply. “i’m setting a plan in motion that will lead to someone’s death. it’s not something i’m proud of, but he’s threatening my family. i don’t know what else to do.”

your eyes widen as you listen to the rest of the tape. he’s talking about killing your father, using a poison to take him out. once it’s finished, you look for the second tape with shaky fingers.

“getting it done shouldn’t be hard. the real issue is having an alibi, and if necessary, i need someone to put the blame on. the death of someone as important as him will draw attention, so should they assume he didn’t die of natural causes, they’re gonna want to convict someone. i can only think of one person who fits the criteria — his daughter.”

it’s like the confirmation you’ve been waiting for. this is what he’s been hiding all this time. of course he didn’t want to help you without an ulterior motive.

your heart breaks the moment he says it. just how much of a fool have you been?

“we’ve always hated eachother. looking back, i’m not sure how it started, but it did. she’s the only one who could have a solid motive. i don’t want to frame her, or anyone for that matter, but if the police decide it’s not an accident, i’ll have no other choice. maybe her lawyer can find a way around it.”

tape three.

“the plan is to pretend i have a lead on the killer when i’m actually planting fake evidence to make her seem like the culprit. i talked to her in the graveyard today, but she completely lashed out at me. it’s hard to tell who she hates more — me, her father, or herself. though i didn't know her hatred for me ran this deep, nor that she was this lonely. i kind of feel for her.”

tape four.

“she just agreed to be my date to the gala next week, though she's certainly not thrilled about it. understandably so, i guess. she's quite intimidating when she’s mad. maybe i should take notes, seeing how she always stands so firmly on business.”

tape five.

“i didn’t think she’d go as far as to go through my room. she’s more determined than i gave her credit for. god, i could barely keep it together when she said whoever killed her father did her a favor. it’s maybe the only good thing about this whole mess. i wanted to scream, tell her that it was me who did her that favor.”

tape six.

“leave it to her to interrupt a stripper’s lap dance and take me with her instead. the man taking money out of her father’s account was hired by me — i needed to subtly prove to her that it couldn’t have been me, ‘cause i was at the other side of the city when it happened. i was curious to see if she’d take the bait, and she did. she mentioned something about wanting someone who would let her be… uninhibited. it scared and surprised me; mostly because i want the exact same.”

tape seven.

“we broke into her father’s office together. it was… thrilling. exciting. she keeps surprising me with how daring she is. somewhere underneath that hard surface hides someone who’s aching for adventure, i think. maybe we’re more similar than i thought. and she’s so clever, i just—i like her. like, platonically, of course. we work well together. i should probably be more careful, try not to get too close. who knows what that might lead to.”

tape eight.

“i kissed her. i fucking kissed her. well, she kissed me first, but… i kept it going. not just a little peck, no, a full-on makeout session. it was… the type of kiss they talk about in the romance novels. i’ve never felt that big of a need to kiss someone before. and she’s so gorgeous, too. i wonder if she’s thinking about it as much as i am right now.”

tape nine.

“wonwoo says i have feelings for her, in a way. i… i feel like there’s no going back if i acknowledge it. but there's something about her, it's like... i'm not sure. like she and i are on the same wavelength. we’re so different yet so similar.”

tape ten.

“the police are tightening their grip. they wanna name the culprit, and fast. i’ve thought of turning myself in, but i’ll ruin the family name if i do that. my mom and sister will be cast out if that happens. and then there’s… her. god, she’s become so special to me. i can’t go through with it — i can’t. the idea of losing her makes me feel suffocated. fuck, i don’t know what to do.”

and just like that, you close your eyes for a moment.

everything falls into place.

putting the final tape to the side, your cheeks are wet from the tears that have been silently rolling down your cheeks ever since you hit the first play button.

he doesn’t really like you — of course he doesn’t. he’s just using you for his own gain, to cover up his crime.

it’s then that the heavy sobs come out. you utterly fall apart, feeling weak and manipulated and alone.

terrifyingly alone, more than ever before.

but you force yourself to stop crying by telling yourself that you won’t allow him to use you anymore. you need to be steps ahead of him now that he’s not aware of you knowing this information, so you wipe your tears away and play all the tapes again, but this time with your phone making recordings of each one of them.

overcome by your emotions, you feel ready to throw up.

whatever you’re about to do, it’ll probably come back to bite you in the ass later, but you don’t care. not anymore. everything’s already gone to hell anyways.

when mingyu arrives at his apartment a few hours later, it’s empty. he frowns when noticing that your clothes and things you had lying around are all gone, but shrugs it off, believing you probably had a good reason for taking them back home.

but when he calls you the next day, you don’t pick up. you don’t answer any of his texts. your staff by the gate tells him that no visitors are allowed into the driveway, meaning he can’t even get to your front door anymore.

something’s happened. he just doesn’t know what.

long after he’s had his dinner, the rain comes pouring down from the dark clouds in the sky, thunder rumbling in the distance as you make your way to the front door of mingyu’s apartment.

he instantly notices something is very wrong once he lays eyes on you. you look like you’ve just gone through hell and back.

you let yourself in before he can say anything, so he closes the door behind you, confusion painted across his face. “i’ve been calling you — what’s going on? did something happen?”

oh, the question immediately pisses you off even more than you already are. this is about to be fun. “well, you’d know.” you grumble.

“know what?”

“that you killed my fucking father.”

the words strike like lightning. you finding out about the truth certainly wasn’t part of the plan, and since you seem so convinced, he doesn’t have much faith in trying to convince you of his innocence.

when his surprised expression fades, you finally see the truth written all over his face. his jaw is clenched tight, lips pressed together into a thin line, and he suddenly looks very guilty. “how… how did you find out?”

“the tapes. who the fuck records their own confession to murder? were you trying to get me to find out?” you rhetorically ask, eyes blazing fire.

mingyu huffs to himself. he knew he shouldn’t have kept those tapes — fuck.

“look, i—” he swallows, attempting to mend the situation, but you don’t let him speak.

“no. you’re going to tell me exactly what you did and why you did it. you owe me that much.”

he flinches, closing his eyes for a moment, lowering his head, his way of showing he accepts his defeat. “your dad… i always thought he wanted me around because he liked me, but after all those years, that turned out to be a lie. i found out he was blackmailing my mom with evidence of my father’s wrongdoings before his passing — fraud, embezzlement, all of that. we’re talking millions of dollars here. the damage it would’ve done to my family if that ever came out… it’s something i had to prevent. hell, i wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one behind my dad’s car accident. so i did what i thought was necessary.”

you can only scoff. “of course. how noble of you.”

“i’m sorry.” he tells you, but it’s a lie. your father was a despicable man, loved by no one. not really, anyway.

“if you’re going to lie to me, at least do it well.” you scold him, turning away from him for a moment, looking at the rain outside through the large windows of his apartment. “how did you kill him? i wanna hear you say it.”

“can’t we talk about—”

interrupting him, you turn around, the pistol from his safe in your hand, and it’s pointed at him. he anxiously awaits your next move.

“don’t make me ask again. i don’t particularly feel like repeating myself.”

he shudders at the view of the gun pointed at him, but does what you tell him to. “i poisoned him. he had no idea, didn’t suspect me at all. i told him to go home, so he’d die there.”

“where i would be, too. perfect plan, huh?”

“the plan was to make it look like a death from natural causes. the poison would be out of his system by the time the authorities were to perform the autopsy on his body — but then they found him dangling from the ceiling instead. that wasn’t my doing, so i figured the poison got to him to the point he wanted a quicker way out. you were there, with a reasonable motive. i panicked and made a choice.”

inhaling sharply, your eye twitches. “you chose to frame me.”

“i was going to.”

“oh, give me a break. don’t start acting like you care about me, now.”

“except i do. it was different in the beginning — but then i just—i didn’t remember why i hated you. i couldn’t even fathom a possible reason to. i started liking being around you, and you felt it too. i know you did, you said it yourself.” he pleads, getting closer to you, not giving a damn that the barrel of the gun is touching his chest at this point.

a tear escapes your eye, but your anger is still there. “you know what the thing is, mingyu? i don’t even care that you killed him. hell, if you had come to me after our interrogations and confessed that it was you, i would’ve thanked you. what i care about is that you took advantage of me when i was vulnerable, and that you made me feel like i mattered to you when you were all just doing it for your own gain.”

it’s like you’ve ripped his heart out of his chest. he wishes he could make you understand that you’ve made him feel more alive than anyone he’s ever met, that you’ve grown to mean so much to him in a ridiculously short span of time. that he’d go to hell and back to protect you now.

“you matter to me. more than anyone else.”

all you can do is let out a sarcastic fit of laughter; you don’t trust a single word that comes out of his mouth. “i need you to tell me something. did you sleep with me because you actually wanted to or because you felt like you had to in order to manipulate me to get closer to you?”

he seems appalled at what you’re implying. “of course i wanted to. all i ended up wanting was you—”

“don’t you fucking lie to me!” you burst out angrily, at which he flinches, but his frustration brings him to confess his true feelings.

“it’s not a lie, because i’m in love with you!” he raises his voice in desperation, “i don’t care if you shoot me right here, right now. it won’t change how i feel about you.”

your heart shatters even more, because he sounds so genuine, yet it doesn’t make you feel the way it should.

the words should probably bring some kind of twisted comfort, but they feel like a gut punch instead. you grab your chest to stop yourself from hyperventilating. “at least i was right at the beginning. the golden boy is a fucking murderer. you’ve played your part well, i gotta admit.”

he watches you breathily laugh and cry at him, and all he can do is stare back at you with teary eyes and a guilty face.

“please don’t say that.”

“why? does it hurt, hearing the truth?”

“i swear to you—”

you shut him up by pushing him backwards with the pistol against his chest. “you know, when you bothered me after the funeral, when i had my breakdown, i wanted nothing more than to cave in your skull with a rock. looking back, i should’ve just done it. would’ve spared me this whole mess.”

surprisingly enough, you simply put the pistol back in your jacket pocket, but mingyu is just as if not more afraid of you. your gaze is the harshest, coldest, meanest he’s ever seen it. all you do is look at him and he crumbles.

and yet he still wants you. he knows you hate him to the bone, you detest every part of him, and he still. wants. you.

and he intends to show you that, because he’s willing to throw every last shred of pride and dignity he has let out the window if it means you’ll show him you want him even the smallest bit. “i’ll prove it to you. if you ask me to turn myself in, i’ll turn myself in. i’ll do it, for you.”

god, he seems so genuine in it, too.

your breaths are ragged, and you feel like you need to get literally anywhere else, out of the suffocation that is this room with him in it. you barely even noticed he’d taken a hold of your hand until now.

“i can’t do this. just—just let me leave.”

he does.

the moment the door slams shut behind you, he has to grab the nearest object to hold himself up, leaving him wondering what the hell just happened.

x. WHEN IS A MONSTER NOT A MONSTER?

the following days are spent anxiously pacing in his apartment. what is he supposed to do? what should he say to you? what should he tell the press, that he’s innocent? guilty? what should he tell his family? that he killed a man to protect them and their reputation? would they even look him in the eye if he confessed?

he waits and waits and waits for his arrest to come, for the police to barge into his home and take him away to a cold, dark prison cell — yet the day never comes.

personally, he wonders if you’re waiting it out to make you feel as shitty as you’ve probably been feeling since the day you discovered his true colors.

nearly a week after the fight between you, he decides he can’t take it anymore. he needs to see you.

you doubt you’ve ever felt as miserable as you’ve felt these past days. it’s like you’re torn between hating mingyu for taking advantage of you and hating yourself for being stupid enough to fall for it. to fall for him.

because no matter how much you want to deny it, you did.

something you desperately needed was a distraction, which is why you ended up accepting wonwoo’s invitation to the event his father is hosting tonight at his estate just outside the city. with your little black dress on and hair perfectly styled, you down a glass of champagne next to wonwoo, who looks a bit concerned. “everything okay?”

the noise of chatter and soft music in the background only overwhelms you more. “yeah. i just… haven’t had alcohol in a while.” you mutter a bullshit excuse, not really caring whether you sound believable or not.

“i get it if you don’t feel like being here right now, with everything that happened recently. i can take you home if you want.”

“and miss out on your father’s celebration?”

“there will always be another one.” wonwoo shrugs, looking at you like nothing else in the room matters. he has a little smile playing on his lips that’s far too gentle — you almost feel undeserving of a gaze that loving.

but you don’t hold eye contact with him for long, because the source of all your current problems suddenly walks into the room — and he looks good. criminally good.

the red suit with its low neckline draws even more attention to him than usual, along with several expensive pieces of jewelry adorning his wrists and fingers.

“he’s here? that’s strange. he said he wasn’t coming.” wonwoo mumbles, and you do your best to keep your composure and hide the sudden anxiety that blooms in your chest.

“shame. the party was just getting good.” you scoff to yourself, replacing your empty champagne glass with a full one.

it’s then that mingyu’s eyes find yours, and even while politely saying hello to the elders greeting him, he keeps sneaking a peek your way, as if to try to get away from the people surrounding him to get to you.

oh, fuck no. you’re not in the mood to talk to him right now.

“i’m just gonna go and use the restroom, okay? i’ll be right back.” you say to wonwoo, hoping to find yourself a spot in the shadows where you can properly get some air.

you hardly catch his response as your legs are already moving on their own, as far away from the man in red as possible.

passing through a quiet hallway, you find yourself finally alone at the bottom of a staircase, and with no one else around, you sit down on the first few steps, a sigh escaping your mouth.

“did my appearance surprise you?”

as you recognize his voice, your blood runs cold.

looking behind you, he’s standing at the top of the stairs, his hands in his pockets. he appears surprisingly relaxed, even if his fingers slightly tremble against the fabric of his trousers.

“you have some nerve showing up here.”

mingyu purses his lips. “why don’t you come up a couple steps?”

when you finally meet his gaze, his heart skips a beat. your brows are knitted together. “why would i do that?”

“because we’d be on the same level. equals.”

“is that what you want?”

“i think you already know the answer to that.”

biting your lip to yourself, you get up on your feet, heels clicking on the creaking wood with each step. once at his level, you look at him with hostility – he only shows intrigue.

“why haven’t you given me up yet? it’s been a week.”

“i have my reasons.” you shrug, the anger remaining in your features. “what? scared i’ll ruin your reputation?”

his tone suddenly changes into something more desperate, emotional. “i just want to know what you’re gonna do. if you wanna turn me over to the police, fine. but do something, please—”

“you’re not in a position to be making demands.”

“i’m not demanding, i’m asking.”

“go fuck yourself, mingyu.” you snap at him, looking around you before lowering your voice. “what did you think was going to happen when you came here tonight? that i would just let you in on everything? the last thing i owe you is an explanation.”

as the tension continues to rise between you, the argument causes you to step closer to eachother.

his chest heaves out of frustration, because you make a more than valid point, but he still has his own interests at heart. “i know that.”

“so then why show up tonight? don’t bullshit me, i know you’re not here for wonwoo.”

“are you? what are you doing here?”

“what the hell is your problem?” scoffing at him, you intend to push him by his chest, but he grabs your wrists instead.

“you are my problem.” he breathes out angrily as if he were confessing his sins, his hands remaining on your skin. “everything fell apart because of you.”

“if you’re actually trying to pin this on me, i’ll hit you in your fucking jaw until it bleeds.”

he only pulls you closer. “and i’d let you. do you still not get it?”

his grip on your wrists falters, and he softly rubs over your skin with his finger, and you hate your body for reacting to it.

christ, you think to yourself, has he been standing this close to you this whole time?

the smell of his perfume plagues your senses, and a feeling you can’t quite place washes over you when you catch him looking at your lips, and you realize his one hand is slowly gliding past your waist.

are you really going to let yourself fall into his trap again?

“everything okay?”

the words aren’t uttered by you nor mingyu — wonwoo peers up at you from your former spot at the bottom of the stairs.

of course he’s been sensing that there was something going on between you the moment you showed up at the strip club, but this clearly confuses him, since you’re still supposed to hate one another.

fuck. how much of the conversation did he hear?

mingyu hesitantly releases his hands from your body, and you take a step backwards, both of you focusing on wonwoo. “yeah, i’m fine.”

as if to make the situation even worse, the fucking inspector that’s leading the investigation appears behind wonwoo, curiously looking at his two main suspects standing side by side.

the situation feels suffocating. wonwoo points at the older man, “he was looking for you. that’s why i came to see if you were here — i didn’t know you were, um — occupied.”

“i’m not occupied.” with the way you completely disregard mingyu’s existence, it’s almost as if he weren’t even here. you make your way down the steps, smoothening over the fabric of your dress and taking a deep breath to get a hold of yourself again.

the inspector glances at mingyu one last time before asking you if he can talk to you privately, which you agree to.

mere minutes later, you’re standing in a secluded room, far away from the rest of the crowd, arms crossed over your chest, a dim light flickering on the ceiling above you.

“i wanted to talk about the investigation.”

“talking to me off-record again? this isn’t a good look on you.” you sneer at the man, who puts up his hands before his chest.

“i know. but it’s for a good reason.” he defends himself, at which you frown. “i have a proposition for you.”

“which is?”

“i need your help catching the person who killed your father.”

pursing your lips together, you let out a bitter chuckle. “like i would know anything—”

“you were just speaking to him, actually.”

the weight of his words makes your eyes widen. this is the first time he’s expressing who he believes is the culprit, after all these weeks.

your breath hitches in your throat. “you think mingyu is guilty.”

the inspector nods at the conclusion you’ve drawn. “he’s smart, i’ll give him that. but not invincible.”

“what will you do? do you have evidence against him?”

“i have enough that makes me sure that it was him, but not enough to defeat him in court. he’s rich and uses that to his advantage.” he explains, sounding almost hopeful. “so that’s where you come in.”

“me?”

“what i need is evidence that even he can’t work around, no matter how many people in the system he chooses to bribe. you told me the nature of your relationship was sexual — i don’t need to know if that’s true or not. but i’ve noticed he seems fond of you these days. you can use that to get him caught. we can’t let him get away with it.”

his voice rings through your ears, sounding like a convincing whisper. biting down on your tongue, you clench your fists, the predicament you currently find yourself in making you wish the ground would just swallow you whole.

you subtly glance down at your phone for a moment.

the evidence is right there, on the phone in your hand. you’ve recorded all the tapes with your phone — the confession, murder weapon — it’s all the evidence needed. you could give it right now and everything would be over.

yet not a single word comes out of your mouth.

the inspector sighs, offering you a final sentiment. “be careful with him. people can be deceiving.”

and with that, he exits the room, leaving you alone with the voice in your head.

your next moves are crucial. you know what you’re about to do is risky, but it’ll be worth it. it has to be worth it.

once you’ve left the inside of the estate through the backdoor, the event continues for the evening while you ponder over the choice you’re about to make in the backseat of the cab.

shrugging off your coat as you enter your home, you still in your movements when your eyes find the stairs — the spot where the police had to cut down your father’s cold, dead body.

with your gaze remaining on the former crime scene, you press on mingyu’s number to call it.

he picks up faster than lightning, but you don’t allow him to speak.

“meet me in the city tomorrow. 10:30, outside your mother’s firm. don’t be late.”

you hang up right after.

fuck, you should really sell this place. the fact that your father’s wandered around here is more than enough reason.

that he died here as well isn’t great either, but that’s really a minor detail.

with your arms crossed, you scoff, a half-smile that’s almost smug sitting on your face. “if only your death had welcomed us sooner.”

the next morning, you lean your head against the wall of the building you’re meeting at, a cold wind blowing through your hair as you’re sunken deeply into thought.

it’s comfortably quiet, honestly. you’re fond of this type of weather, the white, grey-ish sky, the breeze in the air, some rain on occasion.

you glance at the watch on your wrist — why the fuck is mingyu still not here? what possible reason could he have to be late when this is what he was practically begging for?

just as you’re about to grab your phone from your pocket to call him, someone pulls you by your arm and drags you into the alley beside the building.

“what the fuck!?” you huff out, and then you finally get a good look at the person who grabbed you.

of course it’s him.

“i’m sorry.” mingyu breathes out, his usually neatly styled hair now messy, several strands hanging loose in front of his forehead, the stress visible in his features.

to be together like this feels messy yet weirdly intimate. a few strands of your hair are caught between your lips, and you feel his breath on your face, his hands on your body, even your hands find their way back to him.

as if it’s natural.

“what the hell are you thinking?!” you hiss at him, pushing his hands off you, backing yourself as far up against the wall as possible.

“someone was following me, i was — i thought you’d lured me here to turn me in.”

“you—” is all you can push out of your throat before a sigh leaves you. of course he’d think that. god, what a mess.

burying your face in your hands, it feels like you’re both on the verge of a complete breakdown. both lost, not sure where to go, not sure what’ll happen next.

you thought you’d found a sense of direction in eachother, but that fell apart like a house of cards hit by the wind.

naturally, it begins to rain right when you’re talking to him outside. sighing to yourself, you gesture for him to come with you to your car in the half-empty parking lot, which he wordlessly agrees with.

it’s pouring by the time you’re both seated, the heavy rain rolling down the glass windows of the car.

it’s completely silent between you as you sit beside one another, staring dead ahead at the street.

your voice is hoarse when you tell him your verdict on the matter.

“we’re gonna cover it up.”

mingyu turns his head to look at you in disbelief, but you don’t move a muscle. “… what?”

“i believe i’ve told you i don’t like to repeat myself.”

“no one in their right mind would do that. no one would help me cover it up.” he exhales, eyes moving rapidly as he tries to process what you’re proposing to him.

“no one in their right mind would commit murder, either, but that certainly didn’t stop you.”

well, you have a point there.

“just tell me one thing,” mingyu asks, hoping you’ll look at him, “why? why do this for me?”

he could cry the moment you do meet his eyes. it’s like he sees a different version of himself staring back at him. “because you did the right thing. i would’ve done the same. well, except for your little affair with me.”

with his heart beating against his chest, he gently touches your hand. “everything i told you was true. it may not have been real in the beginning, and i’m sorry for pretending back then, but it’s real now. i swear that to you.”

you bite your lip. “give me one good reason why i should believe you.”

mingyu can taste his tears at this point. he needs you to believe him, he needs you — and that is terrifying but addictive. “the tapes. you can have them if you want.”

“i don’t need them. they hold no value to me.” you already made copies of them anyway.

“then what can i give you to prove myself?”

“nothing.” you immediately cut him off, eyes blazing fire, but even mingyu can see you do share that sadness that he does, mourning the loss of your connection. “from now on, we avoid contact over the phone as much as possible. you’ll destroy the tapes, the poison — get rid of all of it. we’ll work together until we’ve covered it up, and after that, it’ll be like whatever we had never existed. we’ll be nothing more than strangers to one another.”

“how on earth would we go back to strangers after what we did?”

“by never talking to eachother again.” you respond, swallowing the rising lump in your throat, fingers twitching from feeling suffocated. “get out. you can come over to my place tomorrow, and we’ll… figure out how to handle everything.”

mingyu looks at you, and he knows you won’t let him in again, certainly not now. so he nods.

he thinks of what to say, yet nothing comes out.

so he leaves you in your car without saying another word, walking away with nothing but his mistakes on his mind.

xi. I HATE YOU LIKE MY OWN REFLECTION

“so, what do we do now?”

“our best shot is to try to frame someone else, then take them out of prison after the conviction and pay ‘em good money for it.”

mingyu cocks a brow at your choice. “so you wanna go and do the exact same thing i wanted to do?”

you can’t help but glare at him. “yes, just without the manipulation. don’t think for a second i’ve forgiven you, or that i will in the nearby future, because i can assure you that won’t happen.”

well, so much for trying to get into your good graces again. “noted. so, how do we, um… find a suitable victim? someone who won’t rat us out.”

“my contact in the police force has sent me a list of all the other suspects. we pick someone, threaten to kill them if they don’t cooperate. easy.”

mingyu finds your lack of filter both intriguing and scary, like a switch was flipped and you’re suddenly ready to undertake even more violent measures than him. but then again, he was hiding quite some things too. “okay.”

it’s two days later when you’re holding a now former member of the housekeeping hostage in your spacious private parking garage.

“you can’t make me do this! this is insane!” he cries out, and you roll your eyes, holding the gun in your hand as easily as you’d carry a bottle of water.

you simply shrug. “it’s not impossible.”

“i’ll lose everything!”

“probably. but you’ll also gain a lot of money, enough to get you a comfortable life elsewhere in the world.”

“no, no, i’m not doing this. you can’t make me!”

mingyu looks to you for permission, you grant it with a nod, and he takes your gun to hit the guy in the face with it. you sink down to bend your knees, lowering to your victim’s level.

“i don’t think you get it. either you agree to do this, or you’re not making it out of these walls alive. trust me, if i have to shoot you, i will.” you sternly tell him, attitude changing from casual to threatening.

your partner in crime, who’s still holding the gun, is beyond impressed. he briefly thinks it over — has this part of you always been hiding underneath the surface?

“or maybe it’s your family i should start with? i’ll pick it apart, one by one.” you suggest, feigning innocence in your voice.

it’s then that the man is finally forced to accept your offer, after which you smile triumphantly and tell him he can go home like nothing happened. mingyu watches the change in your behavior, leaving him wondering how the hell you’re the same person he’s come to know over the past months.

but it hardly changes his now deeply-rooted affection for you.

a few days later, you’ve successfully orchestrated your plan and set it in motion, with the man from housekeeping supposedly coming forward with his confession tomorrow.

it’s late at night when mingyu’s still over at your house, and he asks if he can open the bottle of vodka standing on the counter.

“sure. whatever.” you mutter, the stand-offish demeanor you used to hold up around him before getting to know him having returned.

he doesn’t like it. no, scratch that — he can’t stand it.

so he pours you both a shot. “i’ve been thinking about something.”

“well, that must’ve been exhausting for you.”

hilarious. really. he chooses to ignore your sarcasm for now. “in the car, you said i did the right thing. that you would’ve done the same.”

“and?”

“do you really not… hate me for killing him? at all?”

“no.”

“you hate me for… lying to you about it.”

“no.”

his brows knit together. “so…”

“again, don’t take this as a compliment, but i really thought you were smarter than this.”

“i’m just… confused on your stance on the whole thing. that’s all.”

taking a breath, a bitter chuckle leaves your mouth. “i hate it when people make fun of me, like — that’s the worst thing you could do to me. and you tried to get to know me, work with me, pretended to care for me, all while secretly knowing that it wasn’t genuine and you were going to put me in prison. and after i found out, it felt like you were just ridiculing me, for… i don’t know. giving in to you so easily. for being desperate to have at least one person actually care about me the way i thought you did.”

he processes your words with the heavy burden of guilt weighing on his shoulders, while you take another shot of alcohol.

well, he fucked up. miserably.

“when i created the plan to frame you, i… almost held a grudge towards you, like you did to me, for a reason i couldn’t even think of. i was going to be putting someone i hated in prison. a sacrifice i was willing to make for the people i loved. but you completely blew me away. as time progressed, i… couldn’t fathom i used to hate you, or even disliked you. even if you don’t accept my apology, i need you to know that i never… never made fun of you. and i’m sorry for hurting you in the way that i did.”

his heartfelt sentiment gets to you, and you hate it.

“even if i did accept your apology, what then? we’ll just move on with our lives as if this whole thing never happened either way.”

now that you’ve unintentionally given him a sense of hope, he downs another shot of vodka to give himself courage. “it doesn’t have to be like that.”

“what?”

“i still want you.” he breathes out, mentally saying fuck it and deciding to finally be completely honest with you.

the words seem to have caught you off-guard, after which you scoff at him once you realize what he’s saying. “you’re not serious.”

“i am,” he replies without hesitation, following you in your tracks when you stand up, “and you know what i think? you still like me, too.”

“no i don’t.”

now that you’ve turned around to him, you realize how stupid of a move it was to do so. with every step he takes forward, you go back, but there’s only so much room before you hit the wall. “you’re not being very convincing.”

“gyu—”

“i like it when you call me that.”

at a loss for words, you look behind you to find you’re nearly out of space. “i don’t like you.”

“and here i thought we were both being honest with eachother.”

god, all he does is look at you and you feel willing to let him touch you again. he made you feel so good — you liked him so much.

mingyu feels it. he sees you fighting with yourself in your head, so he figures all you need is just a little push to get you back where he had you, to be able to kiss you and hold you and call you his.

with his left hand, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and within a second, he’s pushed his mouth against yours.

fuck, it’s been only two long weeks since he last kissed you, but it felt like forever. this feeling, his touch — you doubt you’d ever be able to feel that with anyone else.

but something in you is still fighting back.

you muster the will to push mingyu away, and he licks his lips from the gloss on yours. both of you panting heavily, you shake your head. “no. we’re not doing this.”

“what? something we both want?” he breathes out, chest heaving up and down.

“something we shouldn’t.”

“why not?”

“because i’d never forgive myself for giving in to the guy who was gonna frame me for murder.”

he merely shrugs, downplaying the situation for his selfish interests. “we hated each other back then. you’d have done it too, you said it yourself.”

his words are true — but it still hurts.

“you’re a liar.” you say to him, and he knows you’re only saying it for one reason — to convince yourself to not give in to what you really want.

“yeah. and so are you.”

that is what momentarily causes your brain to shut down. “what?”

his hand cups your jaw. you can feel his breath on your bare skin, his gaze on your body, shamelessly checking you out before he meets your eyes again. “what we had was real. you make everyone else in my life seem like… nothing.”

“oh, so i’m special, huh? or are you just trying to get back into my good graces so i don’t rat you out?”

his eyes keep lingering on the skin of your cheeks, your neck, exposed collarbones, and he doesn’t even look you in the eye while answering. “you can do whatever you want. i’ll still want you once i’ve gotten out of prison.”

god. he’s really that into you?

“gyu…” you mutter, almost pouting, and he holds your face, nodding as if he understands.

“i know, i know—” his breathing is unsteady as he confesses every dirty little sin on his conscience, “i like being a little selfish, y’know? even when one of my friends mentioned something about liking you, i didn’t tell you, ‘cause i wanted you.”

you’ve got a feeling who he’s talking about. “so what’d you say to him?”

“i said you had something going on with someone else, which wasn’t exactly a lie, since you were on top of me that same night.” he barely allows himself to finish the sentence before kissing you again, putting all his vigor into it, and you decide to indulge both him and yourself this once.

he pushes you up against the wall, and you shove him away again, holding onto the cupboard beside you when you both catch your breath.

“what if i like him better than you?”

“you wouldn’t.”

“why? ‘cause you’re so likeable?”

“because he’d never accept you for who you really are, and you’d find him boring,” he tells you as a possessive streak overcomes him, “just like no other girl would ever want me and i only want you.”

“so i should let you have me because no one else will. what a compelling argument.”

“no. because you want me.” fucking hell, he’s pretty sure his sex drive has never been this high before. “so have me, baby. please — i’m all yours.” he rasps, pressing a kiss so chaste to your lips, they barely touch. his hands burn on your skin.

“maybe i will.” you mumble, which elicits the smallest smirk from him.

he rubs up against you. “you make me insane.”

“pretty sure you already were.” is the last thing you say before kissing him, finally giving in to the feelings you still hold for him.

the sudden motion takes him by surprise, but he regains his composure to kiss you back within seconds. you make him feel so sickeningly good, he practically worships the ground you walk on.

mingyu is always tactile, be it with his friends, family, or in this case — you. his hands are practically glued to your body, pulling you as close to him as possible.

and normally he likes to take his time when it comes to sex. but he’s just so hot right now that he needs some kind of friction, some kind of release. so he lifts you up to take you to your bedroom, where he wastes no time to plunge his fingers into you.

“fuck—gyu—”

this is all he wants. to hear you moan his name like that and watch you writhe underneath him while his cock throbs as he rubs it against the bed.

“you look so pretty like this.” he grins, curling his fingers to watch you squirm and feel you clench around him.

jesus, his pace is high. higher than any other time he’s done this before. the pressure in your stomach builds so fast that you’re almost overwhelmed by the feeling, at which you instinctively reach down to hold his wrist, but to no avail, because he keeps going.

“say you like me back and i’ll make you cum.”

even through the pleasure he’s giving you, you manage to pull your mean attitude back up. “are you that desperate?”

not only does he seem completely unaffected by the snark in your voice — he might even like it.

“so what if i am?” he shrugs, his fingers moving in and out of you while he kisses and sucks on the skin of your neck.

when he moves onto your jaw, he suddenly hits the right spot inside you, and your eyes roll back, a dragged-out moan escaping you.

“bet that feels good, hm?” he whispers, his fangs showing when he smiles slyly, “c’mon — say it. i’ll make you feel so good, baby.”

right after the words come out of his mouth, he threatens to take his fingers out, and you grab his wrist once more, this time to keep him as close as possible.

“fine — i like you.”

like a war general who just won his greatest battle, he’s beaming at your confession. “good. put your legs over my shoulders.”

well, he certainly is determined. he’s back in his previous position in no-time, now with your legs up, and you try to not clench your thighs around his head too much as his digits piston in and out of your hole.

your orgasm hits you within what feels like a minute, and mingyu keeps going even when your legs are shaking and trembling on his shoulders.

the drag of his cock inside you is heavenly. he’s a big man, and you always need to adjust yourself to him, but fuck is it good.

you always like the slower strokes best, he’s learned. slow and deep, to make you feel every inch of him, and he can bury himself in you to the hilt every single time.

“god, you’re always so tight.” he has to suck through gritted teeth to not completely lose it, ‘cause you’re clenching down on him so much that it almost hurts.

“that’s ‘cause you don’t fuck me enough.”

“we should fix that, then.” he responds, sliding his cock in and out of the pooling wetness between your legs, and as the minutes go by, you continue to find yourself in his arms, your body plastered on his.

it’s the ringing of your phone from the nightstand that pulls you out of the erotic haze.

mingyu turns his head to the side, the dark strands of hair hanging beside his head as he’s still hovering above you.

his chest still heaves when he picks up the device to show you the caller id. “you never did tell me what he wanted to talk to you about.”

all you can do is chuckle — a sound that comes across as if you know more than he does. “he’s onto you. thinks you’re guilty. not far from the truth, is he?”

throwing your phone to the other side of the bed, he pushes himself a little deeper into you, loving the way you have to bite your lip to suppress a whimper. “and he wanted you to give him evidence, i bet.”

“he did.”

“did you?”

“since you still have the freedom to fuck me — take a wild guess.”

this time it’s him who lets out an arrogant laugh. “i knew you liked me too much.”

“i could still do it, y’know.”

“oh, i know you could.” he bites his lower lip before kissing you so vigorously again — as if you’re the air he breathes.

xii. ROUGH HEWN BY UNFORTUNATE EVENTS, AND GIVEN BREATH BY NECESSITY

with the noise of the fireplace crackling, you stand by the window of your mansion’s spacious living room, staring outside as you’re anxiously rubbing your fingers over your collarbone.

the man you and mingyu forced to act like he was guilty of murdering your father has supposedly confessed yesterday morning, and yet you’ve still heard nothing. which is strange.

extremely strange.

“they could still be interrogating him.” mingyu tries to ease both your and his own nerves, but you shake your head, your back still facing him.

“something’s wrong. if it were convincing enough, i would’ve heard something. fuck.”

he gets up from the soft couch to wrap his arms around you from behind. “we just gotta be a little more patient. the guy knows what’s at stake should he mess it up.”

letting out a sigh, you nod. “yeah, i guess you’re right.”

just when he’s pressed a kiss on the top of your head, the doorbell rings — whoever that may be.

mingyu remains in his spot by the window while you go ahead to check who’s visiting you. your breath is almost stolen completely from you once you see who it is.

“coming to visit me at this hour?”

the inspector gives you a fake smile in return. “it’s important.”

so you let him in, keeping up the nonchalance in your attitude. mingyu raises a brow at the older man walking into the room, and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“i had someone coming into the station yesterday — one of your father’s former staff. he confessed to the murder.” the inspector begins. “unfortunately for him, i said i’d already figured out who the culprit was, and so i sent him back home.”

“someone confessed and you didn’t think about telling us?” mingyu questions angrily, and you really have to force yourself not to show how impressed you are with his acting skills.

the other man in the room is less impressed. “why would i tell you something you’re already aware of? you orchestrated it.”

oh, shit.

as your eyes widen, it’s quiet for a moment.

“i really hope you have actual proof to back this accusation.” mingyu sneers, clearly hostile towards the man while you silently take a few steps back, slowly hiding yourself more in the shadows by the walls.

“traces of poison were found in the reports of the autopsy. it was disregarded at first because of the small amount, but i eventually began to consider it evidence when i discovered you recently purchased that exact formula from a dealer who’s been on our radar for a while.”

the hairs on your neck suddenly stand upright. is this it? is the person you’ve grown so attached to actually going to get arrested?

“thing is, if i were to arrest you, you’d probably be let go. i know you both have contacts in the police force as well as the justice system, i almost caught someone messing with the autopsy results — but despite that, i know the truth.” the man nods to himself. “and that is, mr. kim, that the only charge against you is attempted murder.”

mingyu seems confused. “attempted?”

“the poison didn’t kill him. you’re guilty of something, definitely, but you’re no murderer.” the inspector’s gaze suddenly shifts from your partner to you, a deep frown setting into your forehead. “the only player in this game that wasn’t making any sense to me was you.”

“me?”

“you know, in my many years in this line of work, i’ve found it a rarity to have a suspect possessing such an… inscrutible expectant stillness. the gears in your head are constantly turning, but no one’s really sure what it is that goes up in there. you’re an enigma.” he says to you, and you listen to him with a raised brow.

as you remain silent, he continues. “at the event a few weeks ago, when i spoke with you, i came to you and told you i suspected him to be the culprit — the man you’ve hated from day one. the opportunity to make him go away was practically given to you, yet you did nothing with it.”

scoffing at him in disbelief, you tilt your head. “that’s all you have against me? baseless speculation?”

“not exactly baseless. see, the autopsy report showed one more thing — he was choked before the hanging. your father was unconscious before you put that rope around his neck.”

it’s so quiet, you’re pretty sure the two men in the room are able to hear your heartbeat at this point.

mingyu turns to look at you with a puzzled expression, and you finally decide to drop the façade you’ve upheld for so long.

“oh, so what?” you shrug, finding the accusation bothersome at best.

the sudden change in demeanor catches mingyu completely off-guard. he can’t fully comprehend what’s going on here. “you—you killed him?”

you press your lips together. “whatever you used on him wasn’t enough to kill him, but it was enough to make him violent. he came home that night just—fucking losing it. stumbling over everything, his eyes were all red, and he yelled at me because he thought i was the one who poisoned him. ‘cause naturally, he’d never suspect you. my father was one to hit me on the cheek whenever he was really angry with me, but he’d never gone further than that. the poison must’ve worked him up so much that he lost rational thinking. so he began to accuse me of trying to kill him, after which he tried to choke me, but i managed to throw him off, and he passed out. and i figured it’d been enough of his torture, so… i hung him in the stairwell to make it seem like a suicide.”

the inspector nods knowingly. “you murdered him in cold blood.”

you’re quick to respond with your defense, though you don’t really care anymore. “did you not hear the part where he tried to kill me?”

mingyu looks like a kicked puppy when he processes your confession. “so you’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

the words elicit a scoff. “that’s real bold, coming from you.”

“but you—you agreed to help me figure out who your father’s killer was. why would you do that if you did it?”

“at first i didn’t, as you know, but you were just so fucking persistent. so i figured i could try to divert your attention from me. i was going to convince you that it was a suicide. then i hear the tapes, you admitting that you poisoned him, and everything made sense. but hey, at least i wasn’t trying to frame you.”

the jab directed at him makes him feel guilty again. “so we both did it.”

“in a way. though i’d argue it was somewhat self-defense. i mean, he came onto me, tried to kill me—”

“you made a mistake and you know it.” the inspector interrupts, making you roll your eyes as he scolds you. “you should’ve called the police. but you didn’t, you just decided to hang him instead!”

“he deserved it!” you retort, displaying the clear hatred you’ve always felt towards anyone who tried to defend the man who raised you. “i don’t care what you think. and you said it yourself — i have everyone in the justice system on my payroll, if necessary. threatening to kill a family member or two also works like a charm.”

it’s silent for a few seconds after you’ve revealed this side of your true nature, and the man just stares you in the eye before grabbing a device from his backpocket.

when he clicks on the button, you already know what it is.

he recorded the whole conversation, and you already know he can’t be bribed, so this is a real problem — because it’s the one piece of evidence needed that will destroy you both.

“you do realize how stupid it was to come here alone, right?” you ask rhetorically.

“what, will you kill me too?” he asks, and when both you and mingyu deadpan a stare at him, he knows the answer.

he’s not getting out of this room alive unless he forfeits the recording.

when you and your partner in crime exchange a glance, the inspector attempts to make a run for it, only to be tackled by mingyu once he’s reached the door.

one last sacrifice.

the sound of a blade piercing through skin makes you jump, your fingers twitching.

blood begins to trickle down his body, after which mingyu pulls out the knife and pushes it in once more, higher up in the chest this time.

“oh, jesus—fuck!” you gasp to yourself when you feel the bloodsplatters hitting your face and neck, and mingyu rips the blade from the inspector’s body, letting it fall onto the carpeted floor.

you both stare at the freshly created crime scene, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, mostly just annoyed at having another crime on your hands.

“well, that is unfortunate.” mingyu sighs, after which you press your lips together, looking up at him.

“understatement of the year. did you have to stab him that quick?”

“sweetheart, he would’ve locked us both away if i didn’t.”

“i guess so.” locking the front door to ensure no one can enter, you cross your arms. “so. are we burning, burying or dumping him in a lake?”

mingyu stares at the body on the floor before locking eyes with you, and it’s like making a silent deal — that you’re in this mess together, and only together can you come out of it, as bloody and violent that road may turn out to be.

well, at the end of the day, you suppose your father was right about one little thing.

you and kim mingyu are, indeed, good together. just not in the exact way he imagined.

after all, love can exist even in the murderous heart.

thanks for reading! let me know if you enjoyed it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[sanakiras]

LIAR, LIAR!

PAIRING — kim mingyu x fem!reader

❝ AND THE DANCE FLOOR IS FILLING UP WITH BLOOD, BUT OH LORD, YOU’VE NEVER BEEN SO IN LOVE! ❞

WORD COUNT — 17k

SYNOPSIS — in a dramatic turn of events, a rich businessman is found dead in his lavish estate, and the authorities believe it was no accident. as the detectives dig deeper, they ultimately end up with two key suspects: you, the businessman’s very own daughter, and your sworn enemy, kim mingyu. as the time progresses, tensions rise and secrets spill — and the truth has the power to either bring you closer together or tear you apart.

TAGS — murder mystery, rich rivals to partners in crime to lovers, whole lotta plot, explicit sexual content, somewhat graphic depictions of death, everyone and everything is dysfunctional™, mentions of suicide, unrealistic circumstances, moral compass is nowhere to be found, angst, medium long hair!gyu bc self-indulgence, tsundere-ish reader again guys sorry i love her so bad, mentions of parental neglect, this ended up so long help

♪ — wolves (cover) by verydeadly / dancing and blood by low / red sex (restrung) by vessel / mermaids by florence + the machine / who are you, really? by mikky ekko / alone by q / tenemos que hablar by danna paola / i want you by summer camp

NOTE — one of my favorite episodes of going seventeen remains bad clue 2020, i loved mingyu’s role in it and i could totally see him portraying darker/morally grey characters and rock tf out of it so. i wrote this solely based on that idea :D

[ ONE ] ✧˚ · .⋆ ★ [ JUMP TO PART TWO ]

i. ASK ME THE TRUTH AND I’LL TELL YOU A LIE

the interrogation room is unnecessarily bright, the noise of the water dispenser in the corner and the flickering led light above you running through your ears. the chair you’re seated on is uncomfortable, though it’s nothing compared to the tension you feel as the man in front of you treats you like you’re guilty of something.

“on september 2nd, around six o’clock, your father reportedly got unwell, so he left his office early, choosing to do the rest of his paperwork at home. according to the information we got from the gps tracker in his car, he went straight home, took no detours. he arrived at your family estate thirty minutes later. then at eight o’clock, the police receives a call from you, saying your father hung himself.”

you stare at the the inspector — whose name you did not bother remembering — before waving with your hand. “i’m aware. i’ve heard the recap of events many times at this point. this isn’t the first time i’m being interrogated, surprisingly enough.”

with a puzzled look, he raises his brow at you. “you don’t think you should be a suspect?”

“no, i don’t.”

“at the time of the incident, you were home, as well as two members of the staff. since the staff were on their dinner break and you were apparently in your room, it’s hard to say what exactly happened, since there were no witnesses.”

“do you mind me asking why you think it’s murder and not just a suicide?”

he’s intrigued by the way you discuss the topic so casually. “your father was an important man. wouldn’t you want to know who killed him if that were the case?”

“sure. i’d thank them.” you smile at him, the hatred for your father shining through. “believe me, inspector — my father was a miserable man who surrounded himself with miserable people. i wasn’t there by choice.”

“did he treat you badly, then?” he continues, trying to pry any information out of you.

all you can do is sigh. “i was his daughter in blood and name only. nothing more.”

with your demeanor softening into something sadder, the inspector’s tone changes into something different. “aside from you, and the staff, of course, we do have another suspect who we think could have something to do with your father’s death.”

that sparks your interest. “who?”

the inspector grabs his small pile of documents to pull a printed photo out of it, putting it before you. you visibly frown, because the person on the photo is someone you’re unfortunately awfully familiar with.

“kim mingyu is a suspect? seriously?” you ask, completely in shock. ironically, he’s the last person you’d suspect in a scenario like the one you currently find yourself in.

“what can you tell me about him?”

leaning back in your chair, you list a few things. “he’s a year younger than me. we went to the same high school, same university, have some of the same friends. though all of that is relatively common in our social circle.”

“anything else?”

keeping the insults to yourself for now, you press your lips together. “our parents are good friends. well, were, now that my father’s gone. mingyu and i hate eachother to the bone, though.”

“any particular reason why?”

“i’m not sure where it started… there’s just something off about him. it’s always been there. he’s—beyond arrogant. always showing off his looks, his wealth, his charm, his intelligence. everything. he insults me, i insult him. we simply don’t get along, never have. nothing you haven’t seen before, i’m sure.”

the inspector raises his brow. “i think you may have left something out.”

“such as?”

his hand moves into the blue folder sitting on the table, taking another photo out of it, holding it up before you. “your father was often spotted with him. at events, business meetings — you name it. matter of fact, your father seemed to be accompanied by kim mingyu more than anyone else. which is interesting, considering you are his only child.”

your gaze turns sour, voice softer yet more hateful than before. “don’t tell me this is the reason i’m a suspect.”

“let’s just say it doesn’t make you look good.”

“you really believe i murdered my own father in cold blood because he cared more about kim mingyu than he ever did about me? that’s pathetic and ridiculous.”

“you wouldn’t be the first. it’s a plausible story.”

scoffing at the accusation, you shake your head. “we’re done here. the moment you have an actual lead, i’ll talk, but not like this. i’m still here grieving and you’re accusing me of being the culprit.” you get up in anger, taking your bag with you before slamming the door shut, not bothering to listen to what the man is trying to tell you to make you stay.

this whole shit-train started two weeks ago. your father was found dead in your childhood home, hung by a rope around his neck. instead of calling it a death by suicide, the police apparently have enough reason to suspect it was a homicide.

you’ve been questioned several times in the past few weeks, but there’s been a gradual shift in the behavior of the inspector and his handimen — they’re treating you like a suspect now.

which you are, for whatever reason. they have yet to come up with any actual evidence.

your contact in the police force mentioned to you that you’re not just any suspect — you’re one of the two main suspects.

and that is unsettling, especially when you discovered who else is.

as you go down the hall, you suddenly lock eyes with kim mingyu himself, who’s leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. a few strands of hair hover by his cheeks, framing his strong features.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you ask in a rather hostile manner, the scowl on your face deepening.

his lips part before he starts explaining. “they wanted to talk to me. again.”

“haven’t you heard the rumors, gyu?” you mockingly use the nickname, taking a step closer to him, “they’re saying there’s a possibility you killed him.”

your arch-nemesis looks back at you with a furrowed brow. “that’s ridiculous.”

“is it? you were always with him… it’s perhaps the only thing that makes sense in all of this.”

he seems offended you’d even insinuate something like that. “it’s really the other way around, though. you’re the one who hated him. i had nothing against the man.”

it’s true that you and your father didn’t exactly get along, especially the past few years, to put it lightly. you always considered him to be greedy, cold and unforgiving, and you certainly didn’t cry the moment they told you he had passed away.

“no, we all know how much you liked him,” you hardly make an effort to hide your disdain, “but they must not believe that, considering you’re just as much of a suspect as i am.”

he clenches his jaw. “i’m not guilty.”

“neither am i.” you state. like always, there’s a tangible coldness to your voice, which he finds soothing, for whatever reason.

it’s quiet for a moment as you’re both unsure of what to say next, a rarity between you.

a few years ago, your father mentioned you and mingyu could make a good pair.

you proceeded to laugh in his face.

mingyu is a constant reminder of what you could be, and that’s the last thing you need in your life.

“if i find out you’re somehow involved in this—”

instead of immediately refuting the statement, he narrows his eyes at you. “then what?”

you realize you need to be careful with your words here — you can’t throw around threats to kill people as the top suspect in a murder investigation. “i’ll make sure you pay for it. they might buy your little golden-boy act, but i sure as shit don’t. i never have.”

a smirk subtly tugs at his lips as he leans more down, eyes flicking lower before they meet yours again. “i’d be careful with my words if i were you,” he firmly tells you, his lashes fluttering, “there’s always someone watching.”

only now do you take notice of how close you’re standing to him, and you look behind you, seeing the inspector that just interrogated you observing you and mingyu from a distance.

so you push yourself away from him, giving him a last glare before walking away.

mingyu only moves from his spot once you’re gone from his field of view, greeting the inspector with a kind smile.

ii. THE HATRED WE BEAR

you find yourself staring at your father’s tombstone with a numb face and the wind breezing through your hair. your makeup is slightly smudged under your eyes from the tears you shed just an hour before, while you were giving the public a final speech regarding his passing.

the funeral was long — too long.

at a certain point, once the whole thing was done and everyone left, you decided to take a quiet moment for yourself in the graveyard to let everything sink in.

you made the mistake of thinking you’d left alone.

a voice you’re too familiar with speaks up behind you. “i’m sorry for your loss.”

of course it’s kim mingyu out of all people who’s still here, sneaking up on you.

you don’t have the energy to make a snarky comment this time. “i’d ask why you’re still here, but it’s a question i already know the answer to.”

he still offers you his answer. “i’m here to check up on you.”

well, that takes you by surprise. “why?”

“you lost the one parent you had left. i don’t want you to be alone.”

something about that sentence fuels a sudden anger in you. he’s got some fucking nerve, saying that to you. “maybe you should’ve considered that a couple years ago. you know, before you decided to become my dad’s little protege.”

even as a little girl, your bond with your father was a shitty one. your mother passed when you were young, so you barely have any memories left of her.

in an attempt to win his love and affection, you always did everything your father asked of you, yet your efforts were hardly acknowledged. you found him to be a harsh and cruel man, but surely with you being his daughter, his only child, he must’ve cared for you. or so you always told yourself.

something about your yearning for his approval and support changed for the worse when mingyu’s mother became a prominent business partner to your father, about nine years ago. it made him spend more time with the kim family, and you have no idea how or why it happened, but mingyu became like a son for him.

you saw how well your dad treated him, and you cried for a long, long time as you compared it to his neglect towards you. for every pat on mingyu’s back, you got scolded for not being good enough. whenever he got praised, you got discarded. it’s no miracle that you came to be the way that you are. detached, perceptive, appearing to be just as unfeeling as the man who raised you.

you hated your father. with all your heart.

but you grew to hate kim mingyu more.

so to hear him say that he doesn’t want you to be alone — that takes the goddamn cake.

he lowers his head at your words. “it wasn’t like that.”

“right. of course it wasn’t.” your voice is painfully spiteful.

“i wouldn’t have done it if i knew it was at your expense. i’m sorry.”

he’s trying to be nice to you, not understanding yet that it’s actually doing more damage, making you angrier. “the last thing i want is your fucking pity.”

“then what do you want?”

“nothing you can give me.” it’s a subtle final warning coming from you, because you’re actually about to explode at him. “just leave me be.”

“please, just... i wanna help you.”

like a ticking time bomb, you suddenly hit your limit. finally, you turn around, facing him, and it’s only then that he truly sees how upset you are, like a storm suddenly changing its direction, and he’s in the way.

“help me? you’d help me by getting the fuck out of my face. you wanna know what i want, mingyu? i want to know what in god’s name everyone loves so much about you, what it is that made my father shut me out completely and replace me with you. he gave you more love than he ever gave me. just looking at you makes me sick. what the fuck did he see in you that he didn’t see in me?” you ask, unable to stop yourself from pouring your emotions out to the guy in front of you. “why did he hate me so much? even in death, he favors you over me. he left you... everything. a final ‘fuck you’ to his own child. and for what? for you?”

the fact that you got word from your father’s lawyer that your father chose to leave everything he had to mingyu instead of you was like the straw that broke the camel’s back.

throughout your life, you always did what was expected of you. you were the perfect daughter.

and for what?

the fact that your father grew to hate you and love this asshole so much that he left you not a single penny to your name — that is your tipping point.

and mingyu just wordlessly allows you to continue ranting, almost as if he deserves it.

“what the fuck is so special about you, huh? because i don’t get it. sure, you’ve got a nice face and you’re a smart guy, but i don’t believe you actually give a shit about others. i bet you came here today to rub my dad’s inheritance in my face — you fucking pretentious douchebag.”

“i’m sorry. i never meant—” he stumbles, nearly falling over as he backs away while you keep stepping forward, feeling surprisingly small in front of you, in spite of his tall frame.

“i don’t give a shit if this is what you intended to happen or not! i’m all alone.” you show your sadness right between the anger and hostility, vulnerable in front of him. “no family like everyone else, no money, no house, nothing. abandoned by the one person i had left.”

he looks at you as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. he’s never even shown you a hint of vulnerability — nor have you for that matter — so why is he showing it now?

you’re too deep into your breakdown to think rationally about it. “you took literally everything that i had. and i’ll never forgive you for that.”

“please, let me—let me fix it.” he chokes out, as overwhelmed by your strong emotions as you are yourself.

the harshness of your words makes him feel like he’s crumbling in your presence. “talk to me like you care about me one more goddamn time, and i’ll make you regret ever meeting me in the first place.”

in all the years that you’ve known him, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him flinch — you doubt any of your words have ever hurt him.

until this moment, it seems. but why is he even hurt? you don’t care about him and he doesn’t care about you. it’s always been that way, and you have a hard time believing it’ll ever change.

the moment you walk away from him with a sharp pain in your chest, pushing him to the side by his shoulder, he’s left behind in a shocked and bewildered state, neither of you aware that a pair of curious eyes witnessed the whole exchange.

iii. ULTERIOR MOTIVES

“the full inheritance of your father has been transferred over to you.”

the cup of tea you were raising stills with your hand. your eyes narrow at your lawyer as you’re seated in the garden of your father’s estate. “what—how? why? it wasn’t passed down to me.”

“no, but the person it was passed down to can always make the decision to pass it on. and he did — surprisingly with no strings attached,” he tells you, putting the document from the notary in front of you, “i had it all double-checked. everything’s there, the documents signed by kim mingyu himself.”

just hearing the name makes you grimace, putting you off your tea. “and there’s absolutely nothing he wants from me?”

“nothing was mentioned, no. he did, however, leave you a note.”

“what does it say?”

your lawyer raises his brow as he reads it, handing it to you instead of reading it out loud, which makes you give him a puzzled look before casting your eyes downwards to the piece of paper.

tomorrow, 4:30, my apartment. all you have to do is sign the papers. i look forward to the day you’ll make me regret meeting you.

“that asshole.” you mutter to yourself, not loud enough for your lawyer to hear it, but he’s certainly got an idea of how you feel about the whole situation.

“you do, of course, always have the option to reject the inheritance, but i would highly recommend not to. frankly, in all of my years of experience in this field, i’ve never felt a bigger need to encourage a client to take a deal.”

once you’ve picked up the documents and skimmed over the words, you look back at him. “and if i did accept it, it wouldn’t contain any possible implications for me in the long term?”

“none. it is... fairly remarkable he’s willing to give you the full inheritance for nothing in return, even if he and his family are known for their wealth. but it wouldn’t be a significant loss for him, considering the capital he already has to his name.” the man explains, not needing to spell it out for you.

you put down your cup. “knowing him, i’m not so sure he doesn’t want anything. i suppose i’ll have to talk to him about it myself, tomorrow.”

your lawyer highly encourages you to do so, leaving you to spend the rest of the day wondering what he could possibly want from you.

and so the following day, at 4:30 sharp, you step into his apartment — penthouse is the more fitting term. you’ll admit, though, that he’s got style.

it’s dead silent in his place, save for the metronome in the background and the slow brew of his coffee machine. he’s wearing a white long-sleeved shirt with black trousers as he approaches you. “glad you could make it. coffee?”

“why are you willing to give me the inheritance?” you ask directly, not feeling up for the unnecessary chitchat. you’ve always hated small talk. “if it was just a set-up, i’m leaving.”

he doesn’t seem to be even the slightest bit surprised by your forwardness. “i’m willing to give it to you because a) i don’t need it, and b) i don’t want it. i think it’s ridiculous your dad set up his will like this.”

“well, that makes two of us.” you fake a polite smile, clearly very sarcastically, putting your hand on your hip. “you asked me to come sign the papers, but i have yet to see them.”

mingyu smiles a little at you. of course you’d skip straight to business — you never were a girl of many words. he walks over to a cupboard and takes a sealed folder with the documents out of a drawer, handing it to you.

when you attempt to take the folder from him, he swiftly retracts his hand like the asshole he is. “it’s not completely free, though.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose. “of course. i should’ve known better than to believe you were willing to do something out of the kindness of your own heart.”

he just keeps going as if he didn’t hear you, very much used to the little quips you throw at him by now. “don’t worry, i think you can manage this very small task for me.”

“just tell me what you want already—”

“my family’s hosting a gala next week, on friday. i’d like you to be my date.”

you’re baffled. this is what he wants in return for the inheritance worth millions of dollars? to have you on his arm for a single night?

oh, hell no. you’re not falling for it.

“why? you wanna publicly humiliate me or something?” you question, a deep frown settled in your forehead.

he huffs, annoyed that you’d think that low of him. “i know we’ve always hated eachother, but, maybe, during a hard time… it would be nice to have one relaxed night. and yeah, i wouldn’t mind doing that with a pretty girl to keep me company. what do you say? deal?”

not once in all the years you’ve known him has he ever called you pretty.

“fine. but don’t think about pulling any stunts.”

“wouldn’t dare.” his smile sits somewhere beween teasing and serious when he finally hands you the papers.

you sit down and briefly scan the documents, not signing them right away to have them checked by your lawyer first. “if everything in this is according to the plan, you’ll have them signed by tomorrow morning.”

“okay. see you friday.” he winks at you, escorting you to his front door, a subtle grin on his face that gives off the impression he’s planning something, and you can only imagine what it might be.

there is one good thing about having to spend time in his family home, though — and that’s to search his rooms to find anything that might implicate him having something to do with your father’s murder.

since there’s still a culprit to be named.

with your own agenda in mind, you walk out of his apartment, searching for the name of your stylist in your contacts.

you’re going to need a dress, after all.

iv. A PROPOSAL

with a stern look on your face, you look at the entrance of the gala from the tinted window of your car. it’s all bright lights and colorful decorations, candles, flowers — the kim family is well known for their luxurious and memorable parties. you’ve attended plenty of them. while you and mingyu may not get along, his sister and mother are genuine sweethearts, some of the kindest and most welcoming people you know.

if only you could say the same for the asshole you’re about to spend the evening with.

after checking your makeup in the pocket-sized mirror for a final time, your driver opens your door so you can step out of the car, which leaves you on your own in front of the stairs.

mingyu originally mentioned he wanted to pick you up at your home like the gentleman he very much claims to be, but you very quickly shut the idea down and told him you’d just meet him at his family’s mansion.

so here you are.

attending a gala only a month after your father’s funeral must seem like an… interesting choice, to say the least. the people you come across express their condolences and ask if you’re doing well — you wonder if the sentiment is real or not — and you tell them you’re here because it serves well as a distraction.

you’ve become an excellent liar over the years.

as you’re standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing, you observe the people on the dance floor below. those who aren’t dancing are chattering, the noises of clinking glasses and laughter filling your ears.

most of the time, you’re able to somewhat enjoy this life. but the truth is that it can be as exhausting as it is glamorous.

but with your last living parent gone, you do feel a sense of freedom, even if it is lonely at times.

not like you didn’t feel lonely when he was still alive.

you didn’t love him or care for your father. you cared for the hope that someday he would change. that he would show you he did care for you, even a little bit.

but that day never came.

he was primarily an investor, so at least you haven’t been burdened with having to take over a business or anything like it. having no siblings either, you feel like you should take this opportunity to start fresh; focus on building your own career and use your father’s money for things he’d never approve of.

suddenly, you spot your date in the midst of the crowd, breaking you out of your train of thoughts. his half-long hair looks pretty on him, you have to admit, the few strands in front of his face paired with the tailored, navy suit giving him the appearance of a model.

he’s currently talking to an older woman who clearly seems to adore him, the smile he puts up making her give him a gentle, loving squeeze on his upper arms. like always, no one is able to read the bitterness you feel as your face remains neutral.

growing up in your restricted social circle of the country’s wealthiest families, your group of peers wasn’t extremely big. you all went to the same primary school, same private high school. mingyu was always one of if not the most popular kid at school. an effortless ace at every fucking thing. everyone loved him, be it your peers or their parents.

you wouldn’t say you weren’t popular. quite the opposite, actually. your best friend was the queen bee of the school, as she was always striving to be the best in everything. top of the class, highest achievements, a true perfectionist at heart. bold, definitely a bit judgemental and classist too, but once she’s your friend, she’s the sweetest girl in the world. she did like to dabble in some drama with others if it came onto her path.

and you were the opposite. you preferred to steer clear of any drama, much preferring to watch it unfold from the sidelines — as you usually just didn’t care enough to interfere with it — and you were never quite as talkative as your best friend.

the sentences leaving your mouth are always quick, direct, sharp and without stutter. you’re masterful at small talk, even though you hate it. you know how to play people like a fiddle. your father made you use your manipulation skills to good use rather frequently.

many consider you cold and calculated.

which is true, of course. but you still have a heart, even if it barely beats.

the outburst you gave mingyu after your father’s funeral must’ve come as a shock to him. no one has ever seen you in such a vulnerable and weak state, and out of all the people who could’ve seen it, it naturally had to be him — and that makes you uncomfortable.

once he’s finished his conversation, he looks in front of him, then up at the balcony — and he locks eyes with you.

you give him a look of acknowledgment, but that’s it. he doesn’t seem to mind, though, still shining as brightly as ever, making his way up the stairs as fast as he can. “i’m sorry i wasn’t at the entrance to greet you, i didn’t think you’d be here so soon.”

“it’s fine.”

he glances up and down, admiring the dress you chose. “you look gorgeous.”

the deeply dark green dress with its boat neckline, long and fitted sleeves and intricate gold embroidery makes you look elegant. with the dress itself already being quite the statement piece, you chose to pair it with dainty earrings, your hair half-up and curled.

“thank you.” you don’t bother saying anything about his appearance. he must be used to it at this point.

“can i get you something to drink?”

you test the waters by throwing in a joke. “what, planning on poisoning me?”

his eyes flicker for a moment, stricken by something you can’t quite place, which makes you blink at him. his flirtatious and charming self returns within a mere second, and he proceeds to snicker at your joke. “i could, but where’d be the fun in that?”

rolling your eyes at him, you take his arm once he’s offered it, keeping in mind you’re doing this for the inheritance.

the time goes by quicker than expected. he introduces you to some of the people he’s close with, tells you stories you’ve never heard before, even asks you about yours.

a few of his friends come by as well, surprised to see you by mingyu’s side. most people your age here know that you and him have never quite gotten along, to put it lightly.

when they subtly ask about it, mingyu tells them he insisted you came to distract yourself from the death of your father, and that you could probably use a party.

it raises more question marks as to what his motive is for asking you to be here tonight. what is he gaining from this? he hasn’t humiliated you yet. if anything, he’s only spoken of you highly, save for the little snark he keeps between the two of you.

it’s strange. really strange.

after a while, once all the guests have been drinking a bit, you decide to set your own plan in motion. this might be your only chance to snoop around here, as you doubt you’ll find yourself in here again anytime soon.

you’re literally invited in his home — you’d be a fool not to check his room.

unfortunately, just as you try to disappear from the crowd, mingyu extends his hand to you. “dance with me?”

just as you’re about to refuse him, you remember that this is the one night you have to be nice to him, all so he can give you the inheritance that was meant to be yours in the first place.

with a small sigh, you slide your hand in his, at which he grins triumphantly.

before you know it, you’re in the middle of the room together, and he has his one hand on your lower back, the other hand intertwined with yours. he’s smooth with his moves, you have to admit.

the question has already left your mouth when you process it. “why am i here? i’m sure there’s a reason i needed to be your date tonight.”

mingyu cocks his head at you. “i think you’ve had to endure a lot the past couple weeks. the incident, the interrogations, the press, the shit with the inheritance — i’m impressed you haven’t lost your mind yet.”

“how do you know i haven’t?” you ask, and he twirls you around, his hands feeling like they’re burning on your skin. “wasn’t my breakdown after the funeral enough to prove you otherwise?”

“well, looking back, i should’ve probably left you alone in that moment. but i did think about what you said, and you can correct me if i’m wrong, but i feel like your father and our ties to him were what made us hate eachother so much. now that he’s gone, maybe we can… i don’t know. tolerate one another.”

you make sure to hide your confusion from him. does he really not see it? sure, the main reason you’ve always despised mingyu was because of his relationship with your father, but you weren’t exactly best friends before that either.

even putting it like that would still make it the understatement of the year.

if he actually pictures the two of you becoming friends, though, he’s lost it.

unsure of what to tell him, you give him a shitty excuse to escape the conversation. “i’m just gonna use the ladies’ room, if you don’t mind.” you let mingyu know, and he nods at you in acknowledgement, caught off guard by you leaving so suddenly.

so you walk off, the voices of the people and the music in the hall fading into the background as you trail off.

now that you’re alone, you can finally go check his room.

it’s harder to navigate the mansion than you thought. hallways that all look similar, god knows how many rooms — you hope you won’t get lost here.

one of your best friends is good friends with mingyu’s sister, and so she knows the place like the back of her hand. when you asked her for the layout of the place, she did think it strange, but you told her she had nothing to worry about.

mingyu’s bedroom and study are supposedly on the third floor of the east wing, and the party takes place in the west wing.

so that’s just fucking great.

your best friend did warn you that he most often keeps his doors locked whenever visitors are present, so to ensure you could get in, you snatched the key from his pocket when he was dancing with you earlier.

it almost makes you chuckle when you think about how easy it was.

when you’ve finally arrived at what seems to be the door to mingyu’s room, you double-check the environment around you to see whether anyone’s following you, and when it appears to be safe, you shove the key into the lock, twisting it.

you exhale when realizing it’s the right key.

entering the room, you quickly shut it behind you, taking in the sight.

it’s raining outside, which you take notice of through the large windows. several paintings adorn the walls — you didn’t know he was a lover of art — as well as some photos of him with his family.

the room is surprisingly tidy, his clothes all neatly folded on the wooden planks in his closet and the drawers underneath. the few books he has sitting on top of the cupboard are gathering dust — you suppose he doesn’t like to read all that much.

of course he doesn’t.

his king-sized bed seems soft and comfortable, and the room smells of the cologne and perfume he always wears.

you blink a few times, realizing you’re dwelling too much on details that are not a priority right now.

which is enough to snap you awake, a rush of adrenaline moving through your veins as you look for anything interesting. files, documents, notebooks — anything.

you find his agenda in a drawer of his desk. with slightly trembling fingers, you move the pages back to the date of your father’s death, as well as the days before that.

as you’re caught up with doing so, you momentarily forget the first rule of breaking into a forbidden space: never turn your back to a door when you should be watching it.

“you know, i’m starting to think you agreeing to be my date came with ulterior motives on your side.” you suddenly hear mingyu’s voice behind you, at which you turn around, looking a bit too guilty for comfort.

your voice almost gets caught up in your throat, but you keep your composure. “if it makes you feel any better, i didn’t plan this.”

“it’s alright.” he responds, closing the door behind him smoothly, as if he doesn’t want you to see it. “you still think i had something to do with your father’s death, don’t you?”

“i’m not sure. i don’t see why you would, now that you’ve given me the inheritance. what other motive could you have?”

all mingyu does is clench his jaw at the rhetorical question. then he snaps out of it, his eyes trailing to the desk you’re currently leaning on. he takes a few steps closer to you, and you raise a brow, waiting in anticipation what he’ll do.

his face is suddenly very close to yours, and you’re almost convinced he’s leaning in to touch you when he reaches for the drawer behind you instead. “well, as a matter of fact, i did have something to show you.”

that surprises you.

“your father always carried a little red notebook with him. it’s the only part of the inheritance i didn’t give you, solely because i wanted to show you myself. there’s a few strange scribblings in it, with locations and numbers, and look at this—” he opens it up in front of you, pointing at the paper with his index finger, “apparently he felt like he was being followed just days before he died. maybe the police is right and he did get murdered.”

“yeah, i already figured he probably pissed off the wrong guy.” when he looks at you hopefully, you shrug. “what?”

“we should check it out, right? find out who killed him.”

you immediately shake your head at his suggestion. “no.”

mingyu’s whole body language changes, genuine confusion overtaking his features. “what do you mean, no?”

“he was caught up in all kinds of shit, things i never wanted to be a part of. that’s no different now that he’s six feet under.”

“are you not the slightest bit curious who killed him?”

“frankly, no, i’m not. i’d say whoever is guilty did me a favor.”

despite your valid point, he persists. “okay, then how about this — what if this person would come after you for whatever reason? don’t you want to know who you’re dealing with?”

you narrow your eyes at him. “why do you care so much, mingyu? i’m sure this is something you could manage on your own.”

the sudden question surprises him, so he shrugs. “maybe i’m not sure why. but i do. and you know i did care for him.”

“why don’t you just let the police handle it?”

“because they don’t know this world — and we have access to places, people they wouldn’t even know where to find or how to deal with. have you talked to the detectives? they’re amateurs.” he answers, pausing before taking a step closer to you. “he’s dead either way, doing a small bit of research might be interesting. who knows what you might find.”

“and you wanna do this with me of all people because...?”

he rolls his eyes at the question. “you were the only other person directly affected by it. c’mon, am i really so bad that you can’t even deal with me for a little while?”

the fact that you just give him a deadpan stare tells him all he needs to know.

it makes you bite your lip. you don’t feel like doing this at all, certainly not with mingyu of all people, but he appears to be ready to do this with or without you.

besides, you do feel up for a little adventure.

“fine, i’ll bite. hypothetically, what if i were interested in finding out who killed him?”

the young man in front of you tilts his head. “then i’d suggest we work together and do some digging.”

pursing your lips, you watch his pleased expression when he notices you’re actually considering it. “why do i feel like i’m gonna regret this?”

“maybe you will. maybe you won’t. we can go right back to hating eachother after this, but for now, we’ll be partners. deal?”

your eyes linger on the hand he’s stretched out to you, and even as you’re hesitant to take it, he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

with a sigh, you shake his hand. “okay. deal.”

v. PARTNERS IN CRIME

“for someone so organized, he sure as hell has a lot of unnecessary shit lying around here.” mingyu mutters, searching through the drawers of the cupboard.

you scoff in agreement. “tell me about it.”

the two of you are rummaging through your father’s study in your home in an attempt to find anything interesting as to what he might’ve been up to the past few years.

so far, you’ve had zero luck with it.

you already figured there’d probably be nothing of interest here, but mingyu insisted, said it would be stupid not to. so here you are.

“you know, i’m pretty sure my dad wouldn’t be as stupid as to just leave traces of his criminal affiliations lying around in his study.”

mingyu shrugs while simultaneously looking into a drawer. “you never know.”

“he may have been an asshole, but he was a smart one.” you mumble to yourself as you go through the little notebook mingyu just handed you a few minutes ago.

he watches you with curiosity. “can i ask you something?”

without looking up at him, you give him a rather direct response. “i’m sure you’ll ask me regardless of my answer to that question.”

ever so indifferent, he thinks. if anything, one thing about you he is actually fond of is your unfiltered attitude. more people should be like that. “you said you’d never forgive me for what i did to you."

hearing those words makes you look up at him. you’re surprised he’s taking an approach this straightforward with you. “i know what i said.”

“is there nothing i can do to at least make things more civil between us?”

god, you’re sick of him already.

instead of outright telling him you hate him more than anyone else you know, you cross your arms over your chest and fire a question right back at him. “why do you want things to be different between us? don’t tell me you’re losing sleep over it, now.”

mingyu pauses a moment before he answers you. “i thought about the things you said, when you were upset with me, and i realized i’ve made your life harder without having intended to do so. and yeah, i am losing sleep over it.”

while he does appear earnest, you don’t exactly trust him, so all you do is shrug your shoulders.

he wants to say something right when his phone rings. once he picks up, you figure it must be something business-related, judging by the tone of his voice and formal language.

an apology directed at you leaves his mouth as soon as he’s hit the red button on his screen. “i’m sorry. an important business meeting was moved and i promised my mom i’d be there.”

you’ve met mingyu’s mother a few times, at events. she’s the ceo of a very prominent hotel business. many of the highest ranked hotels around the world are under her care, and she clearly knows what she’s doing, since her business has been thriving for many years at this point. you remember it was her who took over as ceo after mingyu’s father passed in a car accident when he was younger.

“then you better get going.” you tell him, your face not pulling a single muscle. you hope he didn’t think you were going to ask him to stay.

he nods at your words, taking the jacket with his initials embroidered in the tag and slinging it over his arm. “yeah. i’ll call you.” he says, going out the doorway, yet your voice makes him halt in his tracks.

“mingyu.” you say his name to him, an unfamiliar feeling on your tongue, and he turns to look back at you.

he awaits your words, catching the subtle warning in your eyes as you refer back to the question of his you had yet to answer.

“we may be working together now — call us associates, or even partners in crime — but once this is over, we’ll go right back to strangers. let’s just keep this… somewhat professional.”

you find he can be surprisingly hard to read from time to time, for a guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. after blankly staring at you for a few seconds, processing the words, he just offers you a little smile and a gentle response. “okay.”

and he walks off, only leaving you more intrigued than before.

for two days, it’s complete radio silence from mingyu. all he asked you over text was if you’d been able to find anything in the study, to which you replied with a simple no. he didn’t say anything else.

you sincerely thought this whole investigation of yours wasn’t actually gonna lead to anything, that it was useless — until now.

it’s eleven o’clock, dark outside, the metronome ticking in the background of your living room as your eyes are glued to the screen of your laptop.

you just got a notification from the bank that someone made a significant withdrawal from one of your father’s bank accounts, one that still needs to be signed over to your name.

question is, who the fuck has access to your father’s bank account besides you?

no one. supposedly.

staring at mingyu’s contact in your phone, you twist your lips, unsure of whether to call him about this or not.

going against your gut, you press on his phone number and wait for him to answer the call.

nothing.

for good measure, you call him a second time. same result.

then it hits you. you spoke to wonwoo last night — he mentioned something about him and mingyu going out together this evening.

wonwoo, thankfully, does pick up his phone. “hey. what’s up?”

“hey. are you with mingyu right now?”

“yeah, why?”

“where are you?”

“uh—” he stutters out an address in the middle of the city, clearly confused by the urgency in your voice. “what’s going on? what do you need mingyu for?”

“well, it’s hard to explain. anyway, i’m coming over.”

“he’s kind of—”

you quickly interrupt him by hanging up. taking your wallet and car keys, you head out. the address wonwoo’s given you is located in the club scene downtown, and you make it there in no-time with the navigation on your phone.

parking your car across the block, you get out and check your phone, heading to wherever wonwoo and mingyu currently are. you usually tend to go for the clubs at the other side of the city, as the vibe feels a little different here, but you’ve been around the neighborhood a couple times, so it’s not entirely unfamiliar to you.

when you arrive at the club, you catch the sight of your friend leaning against the stone wall outside.

jeon wonwoo, all handsome in his expensive jacket and sleek shoes, looks surprised when he notices you of all people coming up to him, even though you told him you were coming. his voice is soft when he greets you. “hey. you gonna tell me what exactly you’re doing here?”

shrugging your shoulders, you put your hands in the pockets of your black coat. “you said you were here with mingyu. i gotta talk to him.”

“right now?”

taking note of his baffled reaction, you tilt your head to the side. “yes, right now. i don’t care if he’s occupied.”

wonwoo brings a cigarette to his lips, pushing the pair of dark-rimmed glasses higher up his nose. “what’s going on with you and him, anyway? i thought you hated each other.”

“we still do.”

“well, something’s changed.”

“believe me, wonwoo, i don’t like him any more than he likes me.”

all he does is narrow his dark eyes at you.

just when you want to open the backdoor to the club, wonwoo stops you. “you do know what kind of establishment this place is, right?”

frowning at him, you open the door just the slightest bit to check whatever he’s getting at, and once you catch sight of the pink and red lights, sensual music and metal poles attached to the ceiling, you momentarily close the door again.

right. this must be one of those clubs that are hidden from the prying eyes of non-customers, to give the illusion there’s nothing going on behind these walls, giving the rich clients some privacy in their activities.

you roll your eyes. “when you said you were going to the club, i didn’t think you meant a strip club.”

“i was about to tell you when you hung up on me.”

“so why are you out here and not in there with him?”

“because i wanted to smoke and he felt like heading into a more secluded space. with company, no doubt.”

oh, this is gonna be fun. since kim mingyu pretty much ruined your life, the very least you can do in return is ruin his night. you briefly chuckle to yourself. “alright. well, have fun smoking.”

“you’re still going in?” he calls after you, and all you can do is scoff.

“you think i care whether kim mingyu’s gonna have a good time or not?”

“forget i asked.” he responds, the hint of a smile tugging at his facial features. “i’ll wait here ‘til you get back.”

you shoot him a knowing smirk before stepping into the club. remaining in the background, you scan the area to see if there’s a glimpse of him somewhere.

at the other side of the bar, a man seems to be on watch in front of a separate hallway, so you figure that’s where the jackpot is.

not bothering to look back at the bartender, whose gaze trails after you, you head over to where you need to be, which is where you’re stopped in your path, as expected.

“these are occupied private rooms, ma’am.” a bouncer tells you.

“look, sir, i…” you begin, coming up with some bullshit excuse to get past him, “i’m pretty sure i saw my boyfriend just go in here with a dancer. all i want is a confirmation, i’m not looking to start drama.”

before the man can respond, you wordlessly hold up a small stack of hundred dollar bills between your index and middle finger, waiting for him to take the bribe.

works like a charm wherever you go.

his demeanor changes once he sees the money. “what’s he look like?”

“tall, dark medium-long hair, brown eyes, pretty handsome — though that’s probably subjective.” you shrug, adding a little fake smile to it. you can get far in life with a little charm and money.

the few generic features seem to be enough for the bouncer to know who you’re talking about. he takes the money from your hand, pointing his finger at one of the more secluded rooms in the back.

“go for room number six.” he says, stepping to the side so you can pass him.

thanking him, you head into the back, the heels of your ankle boots clicking against the floor.

the rooms have their matching numbers on neon signs above them. your eyes curiously take in everything they see, but all rooms grant the people in them privacy with the use of frosted glass.

once you’ve made it to the room with the number six on the sign, you take a breath while your hand rests on the handle.

you enter the room soundlessly. the broad space is dimly lit with its soft lights, a mixture of yellow, pink and red almost convincing you that this place is a mere fever dream.

mingyu is seated on the velvet red couch, his legs spread with a girl in skimpy lingerie dancing between them.

yet his eyes are on you.

with his head tilted down, he looks up at you from beneath his lowered brows, peering right past the bare hips of the girl as if she’s not dancing in front of him at all.

you catch a hint of intrigue in his features. he reaches inside his pocket to hand a small stack of money to the dancer in the exact same way you did with the bouncer only a minute before, and the girl leaves you to your privacy.

“hello to you, too.” he says, not bothering to move a single muscle as he remains on the soft couch.

“next time, answer your damn phone.” you scold him, staring him down with the coldest glare you can muster, and mingyu’s not sure why, but he relishes in it. it doesn’t happen often that someone treats him like this.

“i was occupied.” he casually answers, his hand running through his dark locks.

“well, not anymore.” you grin, handing him your phone to show the photo of the bank transcripts. “apparently, my dead father just took fifty grand out of his account.”

mingyu furrows his brows at the screen. “where?”

“all the way at the other side of the city. question is, who else has access to his account, aside from me?”

“we should go and check the footage.” he says, shrugging his shoulders, and he finally gets up, towering over you again. “i know someone who’s with the municipal authorities, i’ll make the call.”

“right now?” you ask, referring to how deep into the night it is, at which he raises his brow.

“yes, right now. this is the best clue we’ve come across so far. don’t you agree?”

“i do. i just thought you cared more about, y’know, being occupied.” you emphasise the last words with a waving hand, gesturing to the girl that was previously dancing on him, and his flirtatious nature comes right back to him as if it never left.

“why? wanna give me a show before we leave?” he smirks, getting closer, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of you, to see what’s lurking underneath your closed-off persona.

fine. both of you can play this game, you think to yourself. “what, are the girls here not enough to get you off?”

“is that a yes?”

“why would you want a lap dance from a girl you can’t stand? i may not like you, mingyu, but i didn’t think you’d stoop so low to go after any woman with a pulse.”

“i feel flattered,” he smiles, eyes trailing down to your exposed collarbones, finding it ridiculously hot in here, “and i don’t particularly like you, either, but we both know you’re gorgeous. besides, i’ve seen you dance at chan’s club. you looked good.”

his honesty almost stuns you in your place. you didn’t think he held that kind of physical attraction towards you, yet it makes you feel good — because you think he’s fucking hot, too.

such a shame that he’s an asshole.

but still, there’s no time to dwell on his words. you have a reputation to uphold and a murder to solve, after all.

so you lean in, whispering your decision. “in your dreams.”

jesus, mingyu thinks, do you even remotely know how much sex appeal you have? it makes him beyond impulsive. “did you know studies have shown that sleeping with someone you can’t stand is arguably the best thing ever?”

you sarcastically reply to him with the exact same tone. “did you know you’d be so much more bearable if you just kept your mouth shut?”

“what? it’s part of my charm.” is all he says in return, snickering a little over your response, and you merely roll your eyes.

“we’ve got a different idea of charm, then.”

“okay, fair enough.” he shrugs, still maintaining the minimal distance between your bodies. “so what do you find charming? i’m dying to know, really.”

“i like men who don’t feel the need to pay for a woman’s touch.” the reply comes fast and sharp as a blade. “i hope you pay them generously, since they have to put up with you out of all people.”

“she didn’t touch me, though. it’s a strip club, not a brothel.”

“how noble of you.” you humorlessly chuckle at him, attitude turning more playful.

“mhm.” mingyu nods his head, the rest of his words sounding lower and suave. “tell me more. c’mon, i’m curious. i gotta know my partner’s preferences, right?”

the look you give your current partner is something. you decide to indulge him this once, face inching closer to his, just to keep things interesting. “i want someone who won’t hold me back. someone who will accept me for who i am — uninhibited.”

there’s something you can’t quite place flashing behind his eyes. it’s close to intrigue, but more intense, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen it in anyone else’s eyes before.

“good to know.” he breathes out, as if your words stole his breath, and you come to the realization that maybe, there’s more to kim mingyu than you thought.

now that he seems to be pretty much speechless, you raise your shoulders. “so, are we heading out or should i tell the dancer to come back in?”

he stutters out a reply, and you find it funny how his attitude is constantly going back and forth between a flustered mess and the most confident guy in the room.

once you’ve returned to the backdoor where you got in, you see wonwoo is still outside, his cigarette put out on the ashtray beside him.

“you leaving?” wonwoo asks, waiting for either of you to answer.

“yeah. duty calls.” mingyu replies while putting his jacket on.

for what it’s worth, wonwoo is actually a dear friend of yours, and one of the few people you show physical affection to, so you give him a kiss on the cheek before walking off. “catch you later, okay?”

he nods, catching mingyu curiously watching the exchange, and when you walk off with him, wonwoo notices him put his hand on your lower back, which you proceed to swat away.

a mere twenty minutes later, you and mingyu are seated in your car in an empty parking lot, looking at a screen displaying street security footage of the bank where the withdrawal was made earlier tonight.

mingyu’s friend seungkwan, who works for the authorities, sent you the footage, and as you’re looking it over, he’s on the phone explaining his observations. “he was wearing a mask and a cap, so we couldn’t recognize him. the car he drove has a license plate that doesn’t match, so likely stolen. he drove from a nearby parking garage to the bank, withdrew the cash, got back in the car and then parked it right here, about six blocks further, in the business district.”

the building the car is parked across is one you’d recognize any time of day. it’s where your father’s main office is — or was — one of the places he never allowed you to get into, or anyone for that matter. it was the only place where he got the peace and quiet he wanted.

you turn your head to glance at mingyu, giving him a knowing look. “that’s where my father’s main office is.”

“you think the guy’s gonna try to break in?”

“if he got his hands on the passcodes and proceeds to wait before the building he always worked in, then yeah, i do.”

you nod in agreement, because he makes a fair point. mingyu looks at the worried expression on your face and decides you’ve gathered enough information now.

he thanks seungkwan and tells him bye before hanging up, then turning his focus to you. “whoever that guy is, if he’s planning on breaking in, we gotta beat him to it.”

“you wanna break into an office on the seventh floor located in a building that neither of us are allowed into? they won’t even let us pass the front desk. i know because i’ve tried.”

he shakes his head. “trust me — we’ll find a way in. i’ve got an idea, but it’s not gonna be easy.”

vi. WE’RE NOT SO DIFFERENT, YOU AND I

the following days are spent analyzing and memorizing blueprints, tracking the people entering and exiting the building and checking security in the hope of finding some kind of loophole in the system.

trying to get in through the front door is too risky, so you’ve opted for the roof instead, because there’s several buildings so closeby that you can get into either of the buildings next to it and reach it from there. you’ll get in with a classic heist movie tactic you pray works in real life as well.

ventilation shafts.

so now, you’re both in dark and practical clothing to attempt breaking in. because your plan is mediocre at best.

as you watch from the rooftop of a currently unoccupied office building nearby with a binocular, you face-palm yourself the moment you notice the security set-up is different than anticipated with the blueprints, meaning the ventilation shafts are most likely not accessible. “well, fuck.”

“what’s wrong?”

you hand the binocular to mingyu, and he mimics your previous actions, huffing in annoyance when he sees it too. “shit. what do we do now?”

“nothing.”

“what?”

“our plan was already risky enough, but now that we pretty much don’t even have a way in, we’d be stupid to try. we only have a fifteen-minute window before a security guard comes up the roof again.”

“that’s plenty.”

“it would be, for like — a swat team. we’re amateurs. at this, anyway.”

“speak for yourself.”

“oh, i’m sorry, have you done anything remotely on this scale before?”

“well… no.”

pinching the bridge of your nose, you roll your eyes to yourself. “we should’ve brought wonwoo.”

mingyu is quick to respond with a sarcastic comment. “and tell him what, exactly? ‘hey, we need your help breaking into one of the best-guarded buildings in the city so we can snoop around and try to find a clue leading to a killer’?”

“well, i don’t know if you’ve noticed, gyu, but we quite literally have no other options.”

“we could always try the front door. you’re still his daughter, they might let you in.”

“i really hope that wasn’t an actual suggestion, because if it was, it would highly diminish the idea i have of your intelligence.”

“is this your way of telling me you think i’m smart?”

“well, currently, i think you’re being an idiot, so no.” you retort, stealing the binocular out of his hand again. “god, i’m starting to respect criminals. this shit is difficult to navigate around.”

mingyu chuckles as he adjusts the black baseball cap on his head. “there has to be another way. maybe we could—”

“—get in through an open window.” you interrupt, handing the device over to him. “you see the glass window in the roof of his office? it looks like it’s ajar.”

once he sees it too, he tilts his head. “it’s almost too easy. it’d have to open manually, otherwise we’re screwed.”

you can only shrug. “it’s only a modern interior on the inside, the building itself is older, so the odds might be on our side. besides, it’s worth a shot, right?”

“can’t argue with that.” he agrees, checking the other buildings around to figure out the best approach.

you watch him as he’s distracted. he’s fully going for the whole partners-in-crime thing you’ve got going on with him, yet a part of you is still unsure what his motives might be.

but for now, you’ll just focus on the task at hand.

every fifteen minutes, a security guard comes up to the roof, checks everything, stays for a minute or two and leaves again. you’ve been keeping track of it. as soon as the one currently on duty closes the door to the staircase behind him, heading back down, you both start a silent timer on your watches, getting to work.

one thing you discover doing said task is that jumping from roof to roof is really not as easy as they make it seem in the movies. if anything, it’s pretty scary, even if they are relatively close to eachother.

the jump from the last building to the one you need to be on top of has the biggest gap, and mingyu takes a solid leap, landing ever so gracefully.

you shuffle your feet for a moment, making the mistake of looking down. mingyu notices your hesitation and tries to encourage you the best he can. “it looks scary, but it’s a relatively easy jump. i swear. that’s gotta mean something coming from a person with a fear of heights.”

clenching your fists, you try to steady your breathing. “don’t you lie to me, kim.”

there’s something strangely charming about you using his last name whenever you’re scolding him. “c’mon. i’ve always thought you were fearless. you’re not gonna diminish the idea i have of you, right?”

curse him for using your words against you like that.

clenching your fists, you bite your lip, the worst case scenario going through your head over and over.

“just go back a couple steps. steady your breathing, and then you run. okay?”

you don’t respond to his words but do as he says anyways. the jump isn’t even that far, you’re just afraid of tripping.

but you won’t go out embarrassing yourself in front of kim mingyu. your pride is too strong for that.

so you take a deep breath and make a run for it, jumping over the gap and landing on top of the other roof, far away from the edge. mingyu laughs triumphantly. “good job.”

“thanks.” you smile as he helps you up to your feet, and you dust off your jacket, proud of yourself for going through with it.

the two of you walk over to the glass window, and you kneel down, inspecting the lock. thank fuck — it’s so simple that all you have to do is click it open. you’re guessing they probably thought the security walking around was enough.

with your hands covered in gloves, you wiggle them through the gap and crack it open, after which mingyu takes the lead. he lets himself drop into the office silently, looking up at you as a gesture for you to follow him.

you attempt to do the same as him, but you figure he must have strong arm muscles, because you’re barely able to hold yourself up the way he can. he notices your struggle and moves to stand underneath you.

“just let go. i’ll catch you.”

“are you sure?”

he nods, his arms up as if he’s waiting for you to jump right into them. “yeah, yeah. i got you.”

not entirely convinced, you try to drop onto the floor in a way you can still hold yourself up, but mingyu proves himself true to his word when he catches you as easily as drawing his next breath. he looks you in the eye while he has you in his arms, his senses feeling heightened as your clothed skin touches with his.

then you tap on his shoulder, and he lets go of you.

the office is bigger than anticipated. the moonlight from outside is bright enough for you to not need a flashlight, so that’s beneficial.

mingyu is awfully quick on his feet for someone as tall and bulky as him. he’s quiet in every step he takes, which is useful in a situation like this.

while he begins to look through a bunch of drawers, you open cabinet after cabinet, going through some documents that don’t really contain anything interesting.

you turn to look at the desk and the painting on the wall behind it. it’s nothing spectacular — your father never had much of an appreciation for art, so you find it strange he’d even have it up here.

out of sheer curiosity, you try to check if there’s a secret stash behind the painting like in those crime movies.

you have to refrain from laughing when your eyes fall onto the safe in the wall. “hey. gyu.”

he turns around, his entire demeanor changing when he sees what you’ve found. “you’re kidding.”

the safe has a surprisingly easy system. it has four dials, so you need a code with four numbers to get access to whatever’s inside. you change the dials to your birth year for fun, but naturally, it doesn’t work. hell, mingyu’s birth year might have a better shot.

while you try out every combination you can think of, mingyu gets the little notebook out of his pocket — the one that was part of your father’s inheritance. he flips to one of the last pages. “try 9-3-6-8.”

going with his suggestion, you rotate the dials until they have the right numbers, and you hear a click. blinking a few times, you turn the small crank wheel beside the dials and open the safe.

there’s not much inside in terms of quantity, but the things that are in there are no joke.

two gold ingots, a stack of files and a loaded handgun with a silencer attached to it.

“what the fuck was he up to?” mingyu asks rhetorically, inspecting the pistol with care, and you shrug, grabbing the files to put them into the bag you took with you.

“i don’t know, but we should hurry up. we can look at whatever all this is later. clock’s ticking.”

he figures you make a good point, so you hold out your bag, and he puts all of the safe’s contents into it.

you’re both scared to death when you suddenly hear voices coming from the other side of the door. you immediately zip up your bag and close the safe back up, putting the painting right back in front of it.

footsteps come approaching your direction, and you realize you don’t have enough time to get back out of the office without being caught red-handed, so you’ll have to find a place to hide.

just as you’re about to go sit underneath the desk, mingyu doesn’t hesitate to grab you by your hand and pull you against his body, both of you hiding in the small gap between the bookcase and the wall, which is right next to the door.

you almost jump in your place when the door is opened by a security guard, and mingyu puts his hand over your mouth to make sure the guard doesn’t hear you.

thankfully, you’re hidden right behind the door now that it’s opened, but your heart is fucking pounding as your chest is pressed against mingyu’s, and all you can focus on is him.

he’s suffocatingly close to you.

the situation forces you to look at him so closely — like never before. your attention trails down from his dark eyes to the litte mole on the bottom of his nose, the shape of his lips, and the glimpse you catch of the silver chain adorning his collarbones.

it’s the first time you see how big of a man he is. he’s been working out a lot in the past few years, with considerable results — standing this close to him highlights the contrast between his frame and yours.

the footsteps leave the office not long after, and the door closes. you’re finally able to breathe properly when he releases his palm from your mouth, and you inhale and exhale deeply.

“you alright?”

“yeah. that was just — scary.” you respond, cracking a little smile.

he nods, neither of you really moving in your places yet. “you can let go of me, y’know.” mingyu whispers, sounding entirely unconvincing, and you frown before looking to your hand that’s apparently been clutching his jacket this whole time.

“oh, yeah. sorry.”

“it’s okay.” he assures you, pointing to the ceiling. “we should probably head back.”

you agree and sling the bag over your shoulders, on your back. he gets onto the desk first so he can climb out the same window you used to get in, and once he’s gotten up the roof again, he extends his hand to you so he can pull you up.

it doesn’t go smoothly. he’s a little clumsy, but he manages, so you take a breather once you’ve made it out of the office with him. you close the window in the exact position it was before you opened it, and you make it to the safety of the rooftop where you started just twenty minutes ago.

as you quickly go down the stairs of the abandoned building to reach the ground floor, he laughs triumphantly. “holy fucking shit. i can’t believe we actually pulled that off.”

you smile at him with adrenaline still rushing through you, heart still pounding in your chest when you realize what you just did.

and honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever felt that… alive.

a mere fifteen minutes later, you’re seated in a half-empty diner with him. he’s across from you in the booth, elbows on the table as he fiddles with his fingers.

while he looks around the place, you take the files you found in the safe out of your bag so you can look them over.

as your eyes fall onto the first page, you frown.

mingyu notices your gaze. “what’s wrong?”

you switch to the other file folders before scoffing to yourself, realization hitting you. “you gotta be fucking kidding me. they’re tabs he kept on the people around him. the staff at home, his driver... even me. and you. well, looks like he didn’t trust you completely.”

before he can even reply to the subtle dig, you slide the folder with his name on it across the table, and he opens it up, noticing a huge chunk of information on him neatly stashed away in separate documents. there’s even candids there that must’ve been made by a private investigator.

“i knew he was paranoid, but this takes the cake.” you mutter, and you throw the folders back into your bag, and mingyu hands you his so you can take it as well.

“well, this sucks.” he sighs. “those files aren’t of much use, so now we’re back to square one.”

you tilt your head. “that’s not entirely true. we might be able to check where the gun came from, or whose name it’s registered under.”

mingyu hums, lifting the cup to his mouth, whispering a compliment, not really expecting for you to hear it. “smart girl.”

with your bag zipped up and everything off the table again, it’s quiet between you and mingyu for a moment.

“god, i’m starving.” he says as you wait for your food to arrive, and where he’s slightly fidgeting in his place, you sit completely still, looking at him with a frown. once he catches your gaze, he raises a brow at you. “what?”

“do you do this often?”

“eating in a cheap diner?”

“trespassing. breaking in. illegal activities. whatever you wanna call it.”

he shrugs. “occasionally. keeps life interesting, y’know?”

the casualness in his attitude makes you scoff. “sure.”

“you don’t agree?”

“i didn’t say that.”

“no, but then again, you don’t really say much at all.” he says bluntly. he doesn’t mean it as an offensive statement in the slightest, but it would’ve probably sounded better if worded differently.

for a moment, he thinks his impulsivity must’ve upset you, seeing as you remain silent for a moment.

then you laugh at him. the sound is completely new to him, yet strangely soothing to his ears.

“you’re bold, i’ll give you that.” you snicker before taking a sip of your coke. “but i assume you don’t have an issue with people who are on the quieter side, since you’re besties with wonwoo and all.”

mingyu mimics your facial expressions. “yeah, i prefer being around quieter people more. but i didn’t—it came out wrong. i meant, you don’t really, like... show who you are. if that makes sense. even back when we were in high school, you were like a mystery. you still are, to me.”

“is this what this whole partnering-up thing is about? you wanting to unravel the mystery about me? because if it is, i’ll give you credit for the creativity.”

mingyu tilts his head. “well, it’s a little more nuanced than that.”

“if you wanted to get to know me, why didn’t you try years ago?”

“have you met you?”

you roll your eyes. he smirks at you, enjoying your company quite a lot, anticipating whatever it is you’ll say in response.

“you wanna know something, mingyu?”

“yeah.”

“you’re telling me i’m the mysterious one, but i’d say that’s you.”

his playfulness falters a bit, and he shows his confusion instead. “me?”

“mhm. you’re popular, good-looking, charming, all of that — and i think you’ve got layers to yourself that no one even knows about. characteristics no one would ever dare imagine when they think of you.”

his breath hitches in his throat. “why do you think that?”

twisting your lips into a pout, you put your drink back down on the table. “wouldn’t be any fun if i outright told you, would it?”

mingyu narrows his eyes at you. you just shrug, as if to tell him he’ll figure it out, if he’s smart enough.

and he welcomes the challenge.

“okay.” he smiles, biting his lip when he leans back in his seat. “but, hypothetically — what if you’re wrong about me? what if i don’t have those layers you’re talking about?”

you eye him up and down, remaining quiet with your arms crossed over your chest. you’ve always had that attitude. like you know more than everyone else, as if you’re the smartest person in the room. usually, you are. and yet you’re never smug about it, unless someone challenges you to be — you’re always calm, cool, collected. stoic. the fact that wonwoo of all people called you an ice princess years ago says enough.

“i’d be sorely disappointed.”

“so you have high expectations of me?”

“in a way, perhaps. though you’ll have to work a little harder to impress me.”

“tonight wasn’t enough?”

“it was a start. we still loathe eachother, remember?”

“right. i’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

sure, you and kim mingyu hate one another, but he still makes you smile the most anyone has in ages, and you make him feel more alive than anyone else has.

vii. FRIENDS CLOSE, ENEMIES CLOSER

“i’ve got bad news.” you say, tapping your nails on the coffee table in your living room as you have mingyu on speaker.

“okay. do tell.”

“the gun isn’t registered, so we pretty much only have the files as evidence.”

“yeah. i doubt your father put those files together himself, since they seem like the work of a professional. we might be smart to seek out the private investigator who gave him the intel.”

you know he hears you sigh at the other end of the line, and your response hardly sound convincing. “yeah, i guess.”

“what’s wrong?”

it’s quiet for a moment. you speak up with a tension rumbling in your chest. “maybe we should just quit, gyu. i don’t feel like what we’re doing is actually going anywhere. we still don’t have a proper lead.”

then it’s his turn to remain silent, and you swear you can hear his breath shudder. “we’ll get there. it just... takes some time.”

“you sound a little too sure of that.”

“i just think it’d be a waste to not continue after the stunt we pulled last week.”

“what’re we gonna be doing next? breaking into the national bank?”

“something tells me you’d find that exciting.”

well, shit. have you become so transparent that kim mingyu of all people can tell the truth about you?

“maybe i would.” you grumble like a child admitting defeat.

the sound of his laughter echoes through the phone. it subconsciously brings a small smile to your face.

“look, i have a meeting ‘til five. i can come by after to brainstorm about things, pick up some food on the way. are you free tonight?”

“yeah. text me when you’re on the way here.”

“yes, ma’am.” he jests, saying he’s got to go before hanging up. it leaves you to stare at your phone for a minute. a past version of yourself would never believe it if you said mingyu would ever get close to you in the way he has over the past two months. it’s been a strange time. it’s come to the point you’re pretty sure you don’t even hate him as much as you used to.

maybe you don’t even hate him at all anymore. maybe.

but something about admitting that to yourself feels scary, so you put your thoughts elsewhere while secretly looking forward to having him come over again.

it’s a quarter past five when he sends you a message, letting you know he’s picked up the food and on the way to your house, and a mere twenty minutes later, you and him are seated in the lounge on the first floor as he tells you about his day — all while shoving a dumpling into his mouth.

what interrupts you, however, is the noise of your doorbell. mingyu frowns instantly, and you mimic his expression, because you weren’t expecting any more company. “who’s that?”

“no idea.” you shrug, so you get up from your seat, jogging down the stairs with mingyu following you, simultaneously chewing the food in his mouth.

checking the screen beside the door that’s connected to the doorbell, you notice a familiar face standing outside.

“isn’t he the main detective on the investigation?” mingyu asks rhetorically, his body language changing to something more stiff. “what is he doing here?”

“good question. i certainly didn’t invite him, but the guy at the front gate probably told him i was home. fuck — you have to hide.”

“hide? why?”

because the detective thinks you still hate mingyu, so seeing him here would make your story hardly plausible. “because he can’t see you, obviously. get upstairs and stay there. i’ll distract him.” 

“are you sure?”

“yeah, so go!” you push him back with your hands on his chest, and he seems hesitant to leave you by yourself, but he eventually jogs up the stairs again to get out of sight.

the inspector smiles only as a formality. you do the same. you haven’t spoken to him since you indirectly accused him of being an asshole, a while before your father’s funeral.

“good evening. i hope i haven’t come at a bad time. may i come in?”

“i have to take a business call soon, actually, so another time would be—”

“i won’t be long. i assume you’d like to have an update on the investigation?”

well, fuck. he’s got you there, so you’re forced to let him in, but you don’t let him wonder and gesture for him to sit down in the living room, on the couch. you move to take the seat directly across from him to ensure his focus is on you, instead of on the huge staircase behind him.

“am i still at the top of your list?” you ask. when the man tries to find the right words to respond, you scoff, filling in the blanks. of course you still are. “but you have no evidence.” 

“it’s not about evidence — moreso the lack thereof. i’m stuck with two people who each have a solid motive, an alibi that’s far from foolproof, and an important tie to the victim. you cannot deny that.” 

“is this another interrogation? because this is all off-record.”

“not an interrogation. i was just wondering something — back when i spoke to you last, before your father’s funeral, i asked what you could tell me about kim mingyu, your father’s former associate.” hearing him say his name makes you anxious, yet you pull every possible muscle to hide it. “you spoke of him as if he were the devil himself. you clearly hated him, perhaps more than you hated your father.”

“and?”

he pulls something from the inside of his jacket, and you discover they’re a few candids, photos taken of you with mingyu while out in the city. well, that’s just fucking great. you’re gonna have to make use of your top-notch acting skills here.

“i’m sure you wouldn’t mind me asking why you’re suddenly seeing someone you claim to hate as much as you do.”

the blankness of your face dissolves as you adapt a more playful and sassy persona. “you came all the way to my home for this? a few photos?”

“a few photos of my two main suspects together for a reason i cannot think of, yes.”

“you can’t think of a single thing? really? no offense, but i was under the impression you were at least a little clever.”

the man stares at you as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle. that can only mean one thing — he’s falling for your act.

what an idiot.

you lean forward in your place, the dry smile remaining on your face. “i fucked him. several times, actually.”

he narrows his eyes at your statement. “i thought you told me you hated him.”

“oh, i do. but a good hate-fuck is the best way to release some frustration. you should try it sometime.” the sound of your voice is monotonous as you utter the words in one go.

“i’ll keep it in mind.” he sarcastically responds with a fake smile, and you copy his body language, pleased to see you’ve made him somewhat uncomfortable.

he clearly wants to change the subject, but you don’t feel like continuing this conversation any longer. “if you’ll excuse me, i really have more pressing matters, so i trust you can see yourself out.”

the inspector huffs a bit, but he knows better than to overstay his welcome. he wordlessly allows you to let you walk him to the door before turning around. “i hope you know who you’re dealing with. not everyone is who they say they are.”

leaving you confused, he looks at you a moment, proceeding to walk out your front door, after which you close it. did he know more than he was willing to let on? what a strange visit.

when you finally decide to turn around, you see mingyu standing in the middle of the stairs, looking a little baffled, at which you roll your eyes.

“why would you tell him that?”

“would you have preferred it if i told him the truth?”

“would that be so bad?”

you scoff, passing him on the staircase. “see, this is what i mean when i say you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

mingyu follows you back up to the lounge. “i’m just saying — maybe it’d make us look less suspicious.”

“it’d do the opposite, gyu. trust me.”

“okay. fine. but out of all the things you could’ve said, why that?”

“well, it made him uncomfortable, making it easier to get him to leave early. and, well… you know what you look like.”

the last sentence really grabs his attention.

“what i look like?” he repeats, knowing damn well what you’re getting at, but he’s eager to hear you spell it out for him.

“well, you’re somewhat good-looking. it’s one of your few strong points, actually.”

“so you think i’m hot?”

“didn’t quite say that.”

“no, but you implied it.”

“not really. you may be conventionally handsome, gyu, but attraction is a whole different thing.”

“oh, c’mon. admit it. i’m willing to, so…”

“do i need to remind you i said we’d keep things professional? which you agreed to.”

“god, you’re so tough.”

“part of my charm. maybe that’s why you like me so much.”

“i never said i liked you.”

“no, you didn’t have to.” you scoff, laughing at him, and mingyu feels the corners of his lips curling up — because you’re right.

then, as you plop down on the seats in the lounge again, you sigh as you look at the papers scattered across the table.

“you know, it’s been weeks, and we still haven’t got the slightest clue who’s the killer,” you frown, fingers resting on your collarbone, “and if i’m being honest, i doubt we ever will.”

mingyu briefly narrows his eyes at you, proceeding to take his laptop out of his bag. you watch curiously when he silently types away at his keyboard, then turning the device around and clicking on the play button.

suddenly you hear your own voice, and the words — you said those during the interrogations. how the hell did he get his hands on those recordings?

he seems to be able to read your mind. “i’ve got a contact in the force. he sent me the sorted files of everyone who was interrogated. we should probably listen to them, right? after all, we know more about the situation than the detectives.”

blinking a few times, you shrug and nod in agreement, so he increases the volume and presses the button again.

the following two and a half hours are spent listening to the recordings and taking notes of important things. you’re only halfway through them, but doing this the whole time really sucks you dry of energy.

at a certain point, you press the pause button and get up from your seat, moving to the liquor cabinet a few meters away. “you like a good whiskey, right?”

“yeah. how’d you know?”

“i observe and listen. that, and i heard you say it to wonwoo one time.”

he chuckles at your words, watching you take the bottle with two glasses and set it down on the table.

once you’ve poured the liquid into the glass, he takes what you offer him and down it in one go, after which you give him a judgemental stare. “seriously?”

“sorry. had a rough day.”

your gaze softens, and you pour him a second glass as he holds it out. “why?”

“i just… haven’t been feeling great lately. not really sure why.”

well, that’s interesting. “your conscience eating away at you?”

his eyes widen an uncharacteristical amount, and your face is blank for a few moments until you crack a smile. he laughs it off, squeezing his hands together, which you take notice of.

“guess you could say that. no, i don’t know. my sister’s been stressed and she won’t tell me why, which is odd ‘cause she always comes to me — and my mother’s been overworking herself, and i’m worried for her.”

pursing your lips together, you cast your eyes down for a moment.

for some reason, you feel a sense of repulsiveness whenever mingyu speaks of his family like that. as if it’s a reminder of what you didn’t have.

but you don’t show it.

“sounds tough.” you reply, not intending to sound distant — you just find it difficult to know what to say.

what you fail to recognize is that mingyu sees it. he sees your struggle and the emotions you think are so deeply hidden underneath the surface. they actually are, to be honest, but he’s come to know you and with that the way you hold yourself. and he’s suddenly able to read you better.

you’re made of sharp edges only — broken glass on all sides.

he takes another sip of his drink. you down yours in one go.

“can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

mingyu’s eyes curiously follow your every move, the alcohol in his system making him bolder. “how are you holding up?”

“me? ‘m fine. why do you ask?”

“i think mostly ‘cause i’ve asked you a lot of questions, but not that one.”

the words make you silent for a moment, and you let out a knowing sigh when you realize what he’s getting at. “i told you i was glad he died, gyu.”

“i know. but even if you are, you can still find it difficult to deal with.”

you inhale and exhale slowly, leaning back against the wall for a moment, staring into nothing. “i’m not sad that he’s gone. i never will be. but there’s things i wanted to ask him.”

when you don’t continue, he asks you to. “what things?”

“things about my youth, my mother… hell, maybe even about you.” you shrug, chuckling for a brief moment, but the sound is gone as soon as it came. “but i think, mostly, i’d ask if he saw himself in me.”

mingyu is intrigued by your answer. “why would you wanna know that?”

you shrug, your tiredness contributing to you opening up. “because maybe i’d hear the answer i want to hear, and not the one i currently have. my worst nightmare has always been to turn into him.”

“you won’t be like him.” he tries to tell you, but you shake your head.

“i already am. i hated him to the bone, and yet i act like him, sound like him, handle things like him — because he taught me everything i know. at the end of the day, i am my father’s daughter. there’s no changing that.”

“you’re not a bad person. he was.”

“how would you know? he was nice to you. stand-offish, probably, but nice.”

“you don’t think i had an idea of what kind of person he was? i cared for him, but i knew he could be harsh. i caught some bits and pieces when he… yelled at you after our high school graduation.”

you have an almost visceral reaction as he mentions the incident. your father had yelled at you after the graduation, because the best student of your class got a prize on the big podium, and it wasn’t you. and that as a result made your father angry, because being in the top five wasn’t enough — because it should’ve been you.

it was always supposed to be you.

“why did you even want to be around him at all? if you knew how much of an asshole he was all this time.”

mingyu stares at the wall for a few seconds when he thinks about it. “he came into my life when i needed it the most. but looking back, i feel guilty. i shouldn’t have cared for someone like that.”

“like what?”

“someone that cruel. he didn’t deserve to be loved or cared for, not in any way.”

“can only good people be loved?” you ask in return, and he seems positively surprised at your question.

“you’d find love for a bad person?”

“mingyu.” you say his name in a brief chuckle, and it steals his breath away. “do you think you have that much of a choice over who we love? we don’t. that’s what makes it so complicated.”

he seems to grow increasingly stressed with each thing you say, much to your surprise. “but would you want to love someone like that?”

looking away from him for a moment, you think his words over. “if that person was good to me, and had the same values… yeah, i would. trust me, the few people i care about are no saints, and yet i’d go to hell and back for them.”

“am i on that list too?”

you meet his eyes, and his expression is so beautifully genuine, full of raw emotion you’ve never seen him show before. it’s then that it finally hits you — kim mingyu actually cares about you.

the worst thing is that you just might care about him, too.

so you gently smile at him with a light shrug of your shoulders. “maybe.”

he reciprocates it, his brown eyes blown wide as he gazes at you. “i’m glad. you’re on my list too, y’know.”

“am i?” you tease, and he nods cheerfully, happy to have verbalized his appreciation for you. “well, i didn’t really see it coming, that’s for sure.”

your words bring mingyu’s thoughts back to the death of your father, the rift you accused him of causing between the two of you. a wave of guilt comes flooding in once more.

“look, i… i know you may not believe me, but i genuinely feel sorry for what happened. for taking something from you. despite the things i saw and heard, i really was too stupid to see that your dad treated you as badly as he did.”

staring him right in the eye, you don’t fail to catch the earnestness in them. “it’s alright. you’re not half as much to blame as i’ve tried to make myself believe you were.”

the words intrigue him. “how come?”

swallowing the lump in your throat, you press your lips together. “because he didn’t care about me. he never did. maybe he was different before my mother died, maybe he wasn’t. i wouldn’t know.”

mingyu tries to hold his ground as he watches you get emotional. he remains quiet in his spot next to you.

“can i tell you something?” your voice is hesitant and almost inaudible, like a child who’s trying to tell their parent they did something wrong.

when he silently nods, you continue.

“you wanted to know why i hated you, right? well, i...” you pause in an attempt to find the right words, “i felt invisible to my father. like i didn’t matter — i was treated like nothing more than a tool to improve his businesses. but you... he treated you like a son. like a person. and i spent years trying to figure out what i did wrong and you did right, and i just... i didn’t get it. i still don’t. but whatever it was, i was jealous that you had it and i didn’t. and everyone loved you and praised you, be it our friends or their parents. everyone in our social circle. from my point of view, no one had ever uttered a single bad word about you, and then when my father began to take a liking towards you as well... i just hated you. you were my perfect scapegoat.”

the guilt on his face is clear as day. when he parts his lips, you already know he wants to apologize again, but you shake your head, speaking up first.

because you don’t hate him anymore.

“mingyu, there was nothing for you to take away from me to begin with. long before you were even present in his life, he didn’t care for me either.” with the corners of your lips turned down, you continue. “i did everything he asked. perfect grades, perfect manners, perfect social life. but he didn’t care. it’s not often i say people have no heart, but he just… he just didn’t have one. for his job, perhaps, for his business partners — but not for anyone outside of his work. i just didn’t think that would go for his own child, too.”

you reach for your forehead, trying to take his attention away from your face, running your hand through your hair while blinking your tears away. why are you telling him all this?

but it just feels so good to finally get it all out.

“you did the best you could.” he tells you, and you nod with watery eyes.

“i did. and somehow, none of it mattered.”

when the first heavy sob leaves you, you try to hold it back, not wanting him to see you break down.

he doesn’t let you. he moves to sit next to you and takes you into his arms, and for the first time in however long, you let yourself break. the tears are your acknowledgement of the pain it has caused you over the years, the damage that will never quite heal and always follow you wherever you go.

you’re not sure why you’re falling apart this easily. you hardly ever cry anymore, perhaps a few times a year, and you usually feel strong enough to hold it all back when you’re in front of others, but this time — this time, you just can’t.

“it’s alright, sweetheart. it’s okay. you’re alright. he’s gone now.” he whispers into your ear as comfort. “but you’re not alone. not anymore.”

his heart shatters when he internally makes the comparison between the loving family he grew up in and the lonely, broken family you could hardly call home.

“why wasn’t i enough? why didn’t he like me?” you mutter to yourself, having lost control as you cry into mingyu’s neck, clinging onto his body as your chest aches.

“because he couldn’t. he didn’t have it in him to care for anyone. that says more about him than it does about you.” he responds, gently stroking your hair, even pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

and for the first time in a long time, you feel… cared for. like you truly matter to someone.

something that feels scary, perhaps even strange, but good.

mingyu’s big arms cage you into his hold, a comforting feeling. to be honest, you wish you could stay with him like this for the whole night. maybe even longer than that.

he rubs your back, feeling the pain in your chest as if it were his own. he’d take all of it if he could. you were damaged in a way that no one deserves, and seeing how much it still affects you and most likely will in the long term, that tears him apart.

the heavy ache in your chest subsides, yet you still cling onto him. you feel the most at ease you’ve ever been with anyone.

“thank you.” you mumble, giving him a tight hug with you wrapping your arms around him ‘till he’s almost suffocating. “i needed that.”

“anytime.”

you eventually finally come down from your breakdown, body slightly twitching as the last tears silently roll down your cheeks.

with your head in his lap, you lay on your side, closing your eyes for a while as the pain in your chest slowly subsides. he’s still rubbing at your clothed skin, and you’re curious if he’s aware it does wonders for calming you down.

“i’m sorry for yelling at you, gyu. after the funeral.” you speak up, voice still raspy. “i was wrong about you.”

mingyu feels his throat tighten up. “it’s okay. i was wrong about you, too. we have more in common than i initially thought we did.”

you wipe your tears away and move to sit upright, finally feeling confident enough to look him in the eye again. “like what?”

both of you are tired. everything that’s happened the past weeks has definitely been causing some sleepless nights for both of you, and with all the alcohol and emotions running high, you’re both feeling a tad drowsy.

he runs a hand through his dark locks. “this part of society — i think it’s exhausting, a lot of the time. full of noise, small talk that’s supposed to hide how cold half these people are, social pressure, all of that. but here, at home, it’s quiet. maybe a little too quiet. the thing is, i have my friends and family that i care about more than anyone else, but i still feel… hollow. like i’m missing something.”

you nod at him. “you can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely.”

“yeah.” he sighs. “do you feel it too?”

“well, i may not have a family, but i have my friends. and they mean so much to me, and i can talk to them if i need to, but… yeah. i feel it too.”

he wonders if you feel the same connection that he’s feeling right now. he’s drawn to you like a damn magnet.

mingyu already knows he’s a goner when he gently puts his hand on your cheek. he feels electrified by your presence, your voice, even the way you look at him.

he needs you.

“maybe we can be lonely together.”

his words are enough for your breath to hitch in your throat. you doubt you’ve ever wanted to have someone as much as you do now.

and so you cross a line you never thought you would and press your lips to his, desperately needing his touch.

the kiss is harsh but slow, as if you’re aching to taste eachother. his hand makes its way to the back of your head, the other on your back to pull you closer to him.

his heart might as well be lurching out of his chest. god, he feels that excitement and nervousness as if he were his teenage self sharing a first kiss with his crush — yet whatever feeling is clouding his mind is something darker and deeper, something that transcends what he can describe with words.

he kisses you like his life depends on it. once you’ve both pulled back to get some air, looking the other straight in the eye, it’s like you’re silently admitting that the relationship you share is more than just being partners.

it’s something that comes alarmingly close to love.

the moment is harshly interrupted when his phone rings. he blinks a few times before rolling his eyes at the timing, as he’s still half on top of you.

you can do nothing but wait underneath him as he takes the call, and when he closes his eyes and releases a sigh, you know it’s not positive.

“alright, thank you.” he says before hanging up, turning his focus to you. “the alarm at my apartment in the city was triggered. i gotta check it out, i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine.” you mutter out, suddenly unsure of how to talk to him now that you’ve crossed the line that you have.

but mingyu is much more straightforward. his gaze is warm and intense as it finds your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to stay here with you. so he shows you that.

just when your lips are about to touch again, he smirks, gently holding your chin. “i’ll be back for this.”

with those words, he catches his breath and gets up from the couch, after which he jogs down the stairs, and half a minute later, you hear the front doors open and close.

the sound allows you to release the breath you’ve been holding.

what the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x

READ PART TWO HERE

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[neogotmycookie]

same page | l.dh

summary: you don’t necessarily mind admiring lee haechan from afar, but when the opportunity for you to get closer presents itself, you grasp it, and eventually you come to the realisation that whilst you’ve been too busy admiring, you’ve failed to notice that he’s been doing exactly the same. pairing: student!haechan x f!reader. mdni! adults only. genre: university!au, fluff, strangers to acquaintances to lovers, smut! word count: 32k (i am sorry) tags/warnings: alcohol consumption, smoking/vaping, swearing, talks of fetishes, explicit sexual content, kissing (a lot), making out, semi-public shenanigans(not sex), spitting (yum), fingering, dry humping, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, multiple smut scenes, dirty talk, praise, light chocking, lots of teasing, protected sex, overstimulation, haechan is cocky but also pathetic, haechan being bf material without even being her bf, he calls her a brat like once, petnames (baby, pretty, baby girl, good girl), she calls him “hae”, they’re both down bad, soft dom!haechan, sub!reader, switch!haechan, cumshot oops, aftercare, he’s just a good guy, both are mature but can be too in their head at times, there’s no toxicity or angst in this fic, ✨communication✨, pls let me know if i missed anything! other characters: the whole dream gang, chenle & ningning as oc’s besties a/n: hi all! this is my first ever fic (that I'm posting lol) and I've poured my heart and soul into it so i hope you show some love. it's definitely not perfect and i could keep rereading and finding things that I'd change but I've kept my writing in the dark for long enough and if i don’t post this now i know i never will, so please take it! I do have a part 2 in the works, which will be diving into their feelings and more angsty themes, but for now I hope you lovely people enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it xoxo ps. the idea for this fic blossomed while i was listening to eye candy by justin bieber, so might be worth giving it a listen whilst reading → Part 2

It's not like you’re obsessed with Lee Haechan. You just enjoy looking at him. You barely even know the guy, but, annoyingly, he's difficult to ignore. Difficult not to notice. And it’s not like you’ve spoken much to each other either, apart from the rare exchange of a few words here and there or the odd nod of acknowledgement in corridors.  

There was this one time where he sat next to you in class, but that was only because he was late and the seat next to yours was the only empty one that was close to the entrance of the classroom. That was the first time he smiled at you. Nothing more than casual and polite but it still made your heart race.

Then, of course, there was the time where you bumped into him on the street, while you were on your way to a date, which ended up being disastrous, but that didn’t really bother you. What bothered you was the fact that he was also on his way to a date. With a girl. A girl he chose to go on a date with. A girl that he probably found pretty. A girl that wasn't you. Regardless, that didn’t negate the fact that, that night you had your first ever conversation with him. It was brief, but it happened, and it certainly left you with a bittersweet taste in your mouth, which was probably why you later couldn’t focus on the boy you matched with on that godforsaken dating app. And as mean as it sounded in your head, you hoped Haechan’s date went as badly as yours. 

Next time you saw him, was at a campus party you got dragged to by Chenle and Ningning. Mark convinced Chenle, who convinced Ningning, who forced you and it’s not like you don’t enjoy a fun night out with friends and alcohol, you just weren’t in the right mood that night and you were convinced that being in your luteal phase had definitely something to do with it.   

You remember instantly spotting him in the kitchen, leaning lazily against the counter as he was speaking to a girl you didn’t recognise and you could tell just from her side profile that she was nothing but attractive. You watched as she reached and took the drink he was holding, bringing it up to her lips, tasting the contents of the cup but also him, and you decided to look elsewhere before witnessing anything that would (but definitely shouldn’t) ruin your night.   

You were determined to spend the rest of the party as far away from him as possible, forcing poor Chenle to go and refill your drink in the kitchen every time you ran out. You were more than aware it might have sounded silly to anyone else, but you didn’t want to go down the rabbit hole of trying to get someone’s attention, when they were clearly not interested. You’d been that person in the past, and you refused to make the same mistakes again. At the end of the day, it was just a crush. It would go away eventually. Right?  

When the party started to die down, you found yourself in the back garden with no one else other than the lovely Na Jaemin, after you stumbled upon him being sick in a fake plant pot. You could have left him in his own fate, but knowing yourself, you would definitely feel guilty for the rest of the night, if you didn’t make sure he was safe. You started to regret your decision about 10 minutes later, when he had already fallen asleep with his head in your lap and you were sure he was drooling on you, but that was the least of your concerns in that moment. Thankfully, Chenle picked up on the first ring and when you asked him to come outside with reinforcements, he immediately said, “I’ll be there in a sec.”

The reinforcements, of course, being Jeno and Haechan, wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, but you weren’t in a position to be picky. You found out shortly after that Haechan had only stepped outside for a smoke and got dragged into ‘helping’, which he refused to do since, according to him, Jaemin had put him in that position countless of times and he’s sick of looking after a grown ass man who’s got the alcohol tolerance of a twelve year-old. You found his point more than valid, but you didn’t say anything.   

When Chenle and Jeno disappeared back inside, carrying a whiny and barely coherent Jaemin, you found yourself alone with the boy you had initially tried to steer clear of at all costs. Your mission miserably failed that night and at the end of it all you realised one thing; whatever it was that you felt for Lee Haechan, wasn’t just a harmless crush.   

“I gotta admit, that was slightly entertaining.” He said as he took the seat that Jaemin had previously been occupying next to you on the wooden bench.   

You must have sat there with him for about an hour, talking about everything and nothing, while enjoying the early summer breeze and the freedom that came with the end of finals. He insisted on getting you an uber home when you announced that you were going to walk because your phone had died and when you asked if you could pay him back somehow, he said, “Just don't be a stranger next year.”  

Autumn  

You were aware Zhong Chenle was an evil little thing, but you hadn’t pegged him for a traitor. And betrayed is what you felt as you read the message on your screen over and over again.   

@kh1000le: greetings folks, party at my new place this saturday @8 – I'll add the deets later but feel free to invite more people. ps. don’t forget to bring extra booze.  

You look up from your phone, remembering you're still in class and the professor is still talking stats. Your eyes instantly land on Haechan, still sitting two rows ahead of you, between Jeno and Jaemin and you can tell he’s looking down, probably reading the message you were reading just seconds ago. Jaemin shifts closer to whisper something in his ear and Haechan leans in to hear better. He quickly nods his head agreeing to whatever Jaemin says. 

You turn your attention back to your phone again as more notifications flood your screen. Other people in the group chat responding and reacting to messages. Haechan is still silent. No reactions or responses. You wonder what he's thinking. But most of all, you wonder if he's noticed you're also in that group chat. Would he recognise your username? You only started following each other the day after that party before summer, but it’s been almost four months now and there has certainly been no exchange of messages.   

Suddenly, you notice people have started packing up their belongings and you quickly start doing the same, hoping you can flee the scene as fast as possible, before Jaemin comes up to you with questions about the party.   

The second you step outside the doors and into the corridor, you exhale, relieved to have succeeded and as you start walking towards the main building exit you realise you spoke too soon.   

"Y/n, wait up!"

You close your eyes muttering a quiet “shit” to yourself. You put on a smile and turn around, Jaemin quickly approaching you. Haechan, who's trailing a few steps behind him, isn’t really paying attention, already in a conversation with Jeno.   

“Jeez woman, you sure walk fast. You got somewhere to be?” He speaks fast as he tries to catch his breath.  

“Hey Jaemin, yeah, sorry, I'm in a rush, how can I help?" You try and respond as nonchalantly as possible.   

"I just saw you're in that group chat and I'm assuming you'll be there on Saturday?" He asks with eyes full of hope.   

"Yes sir. I'm actually meeting up with Chenle now to talk logistics." You explain quickly, seeing Haechan getting closer from your peripheral.

"Ahhh that makes sense, I just wanted to ask if we should bring anything else other than alcohol?"   

"Just your drink of choice will be enough for you I reckon, don't want you ruining any of his new plants." You say with a teasing tone. 

"Yah!" He complains with a pout that is nothing but laughable. 

"Hey Y/N." Jeno approaches with a smile and joins your conversation. “Is this man bothering you?”   

“Not really, just making sure he doesn't die of alcohol poisoning on Saturday.” You try to keep your eyes on Jeno, avoiding the handsome boy who's also joined your little group. 

”I thought you were a nice one.” Jaemin whines like a little child while a frown adorns his face.   

“You’ve been fooled my friend,” Jeno comes to stand next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders, shaking you playfully. “She’s evil.”   

You're mid eye roll when Haechan’s voice cuts through. “Seems pretty harmless to me.” He’s standing next to Jaemin now. One hand in his pocket, the other holding the strap of his bag. You notice the two rings adorning his middle fingers. Such a pretty hand, you think, the veins prominent, running down his smooth arm, disappearing underneath an oversized check shirt he's wearing over a white t-shirt. You then notice he's got a pair of jorts on and you can't help but wonder who can even pull off jorts that effortlessly nowadays.   

Your attention drifts back up to his face, the most adorable boba eyes are twinkling as he looks at you and his captivating mouth offers you a cheeky smile. A small dimple appears, barely there for you to see and you think you're on the verge of throwing up. His lips move again and you watch him carefully like he’s moving in slow motion. "Hi." His hand leaving his pocket and raising in the air to offer you a quick wave. It's annoying how such a small and casual gesture makes your heartbeat faster and your cheeks feel warmer. You're pretty sure your eyes are giving you away, showing how affected you are behind the stoic expression you’re struggling to maintain. You never thought you'd be here, but you have Chenle to thank. Or maybe strangle. You haven't decided yet.   

"Hi." You return the smile as calmly as you can, foregoing the wave. You don't think your limbs are working properly right now and you're pretty sure your fingers are slightly shaking by your sides. And you’re now thankful for Jeno’s arm still draped around you, the weight grounding and necessary. You feel your phone vibrate a few times in your back pocket, assuming it's either Chenle or Ning checking if you're alive and that pulls you out of your trance. “Evil is a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”   

”That’s funny, remember when you told me to go fuck myself and read a book whilst I’m at it?"   

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You shove his arm off you in fake annoyance. “Did I offend you?” You feign concern dramatically. “Remember when you asked me if I’ve got any friends who need, and I quote, an unforgettable dicking down session and then proceeded to say, and I quote again, ‘is Murakami the fella who wrote that book about some Norwegian guy’s dick?’” You get slightly irritated just at the memory. 

"Ahhh that explains it! This guy came back home a few months ago asking if anyone’s got a copy of Norwegian Wood." Jaemin looks at you as he explains, whilst pointing a mocking finger at Jeno. 

"Oh? You actually read it then?" You ask with a hopeful smile and Jeno offers you a shy nod. Maybe there's hope for him after all. 

“Read it? He actually cried when he got to the part where Naoko kills herself.” Haechan snorts at Jeno’s sour expression and reaches out to lightly pinch his cheek. He instantly gets shoved away. “Aw come on, I thought it was endearing.” Haechan turns to look at you now. “I was wondering who made him read that.” He holds your gaze while you hold your breath, and you wish someone could hold your heart as it’s about to beat out of your chest. “I love that book.” He admits with a smile, and you celebrate internally, because you knew he wasn’t just a pretty face, and you feel giddy knowing that you’ve both loved the same thing, even if it’s just a book. 

You picture him sitting in a pink cafe, wearing a cozy sweater, looking all warm and comfy while turning page after page. You find yourself wanting to ask if he’s read it more than once, like you have and what his thoughts are on the ending. But you don’t. Not yet. 

“Well maybe you two nerds should join a book club.” Jeno bitterly says.   

“I mean, I’d be down?” Haechan raises his eyebrows suggestively at you. Mothefucker.   

“I would, but unfortunately I have somewhere to be right now.” Your response causing his tongue to poke in his cheek, trying to fight off a smile. The gesture making him look incredibly handsome and boyish at the same time and if you were a cartoon character, pink heart eyes would be bulging out of your eye sockets. You force yourself to look away from Haechan's face, opting to divert your gaze between the other two boys instead. They're both carrying amused expressions, looking between you and Haechan and you feel like you’re missing something.   

“Ouch.” Jaemin says with a laugh, now mocking Haechan.   

“See?” Jeno looks at both of his friends, crossing his arms over his chest as if proving a point. “Told you she’s evil.” He smiles like he’s proud of you.   

And that’s your queue to escape. ”Right, well, as lovely as this has been, I actually have to go.”   

“Okay, busy queen.” Jaemin snaps his fingers and you can instantly picture him getting along with Chenle. “We’ll see you Saturday then.” He smiles sweetly.   

”You will indeed. Don’t be too late.” You say with a warning, pointing a finger between all three of them.  

”Yes, mam.” Jeno nods in agreement.   

You look at Haechan one last time. His expression contemplative, almost like he's torn between saying something else and keeping quiet. The way he's observing you makes you feel like he's already got you all figured out. Like there's no way he doesn't know you’re having trouble breathing, all because of him.

“See you Saturday.” He says in the sweetest tone, smiling at you like he's done it a million times before.  

You give him a small nod goodbye and when you start to walk away you try your best to do so at a normal speed, not wanting to give away the fact that you're practically running away.   

You hear Jaemin's loud voice again. “Bye Y/N!”   

”Bye Jaemin!” You respond, mimicking his cheerful tone without looking back.   

As you head towards the exit, you've already decided you're going to go with the option of strangling Chenle. Because there’s no way you’re surviving Saturday night without going clinically insane. Not if Haechan holds your gaze the way he did just a few moments ago. Not if he talks the way he talks and certainly not if he looks as good as he always does. 

You’re done for.   

_

You’re baffled as to how and why Chenle knows this many people. You assume majority are friend of friends and acquaintances, because you’ve known the boy for three years now and never has he mentioned more than five names. You’re also starting to get worried he might get a noise complaint from the people occupying the flat downstairs, but you assume he has already warned them about tonight.   

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud exclaim and you feel like laughing when you hear Chenle’s screechy voice shouting Mark’s name excitedly, announcing his drunkenness along with the older boy’s arrival.   

"Lover boy still not here?" Ningning teases you as you check the time on your phone for the umpteenth time that night. She takes a sip from her drink and looks over your shoulder. "Relax, it only 9pm." 

"I'm relaxed." You defend quickly. She takes in your stressed expression and pauses to think for a second. "What?"  

"Nothing, I just realised I haven't seen you so excited about a boy before. It's refreshing." She smiles while trapping the straw between her pearly whites. "Speak of the devil." She jerks her chin towards the direction of the door and you instantly know who she’s referring to, but you don't dare to turn around and look yet. You feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest and Ningning sets her drink down on the kitchen counter before taking hold of both your shoulders. "Y/N, we talked about this. There's literally no reason to freak out. If he flirts, flirt back. Let it happen naturally yeah?" Her tone serious, as if you're both on a mission. 

You widen your eyes comically to match hers, nodding your head quickly while trying not to laugh at her expression. It’s almost as though she’s more anxious than you are. "Ning, I'm good. I got it."  

"Just saying, he'd be a dimwit not to like you." One of her hands pushes a strand of hair behind your ear and the comforting act gives you the reassurance you didn’t know you needed. "Plus, this dress makes your tiddies look yummy." She smirks and you wack her hand away with a laugh when she reaches out to poke into the bit of cleavage that spills from the top of your dress. You can tell she's entered the realms of tipsiness, and you wish you were there with her too, but the tequila shot from earlier definitely didn't do its job. 

"Fuck me, didn’t think this many people would turn up." Jaemin's loud voice startles both of you, making you turn around and you're met with the three boys from your stats class. "Good thing we brought reinforcements, huh?" He says excitedly, shaking a Jack Daniels bottle.   

"Are you a middle aged man by any chance?" Ningning's face scrunched up in disgust as she inspects the whiskey bottle in Jaemin's hands. "What happened to just drinking plain old vodka at parties?"

"Ah, Jeno is your guy." Jaemin points his thumb behind him and Jeno raises the hand holding a vodka bottle.   

Jeno's face lights up when he spots the unused cups and heads over to start making drinks for him and Ningning. "Lemonade?" He asks, looking at her and she nods excitedly. "Same for you Y/N?" His eyes on you now.  

"Nah, I'm on gin tonight, thanks though." You smile appreciatively at him.  

"Guess I'm your guy then."   

Fuck.  

Your eyes instantly meet. He's already smiling down at you, and he looks so good. Too good for your respiratory system to function properly. His dark hair is messily styled, fringe almost covering his eyes. He's got a black button-down shirt on, top three buttons undone, collarbones on display and sleeves rolled up revealing his veiny forearms, all effortlessly combined with dark blue jeans and black converse. Pretty. Perfect.   

Without permission, his hand engulfs yours, wrapping around your drink, bringing the cup to his lips, your own hand slipping down as he downs the liquid in one big gulp. The cooling feeling of his rings lingers, and you can’t help but stare at his neck as he swallows and then his eyes are on you again, his tongue slightly darting out to lick his bottom lip where there's a drop of liquid. His eyebrows furrow and he nods in approval. 

"Lemonade it is." He casually says, like he didn’t almost just cause your heart to fail. He takes your now empty cup with him, joining Jeno at the counter.   

"Well then," Jaemin feigns disappointment, eyebrows furrowing dramatically. "I guess I'm having this whole whiskey bottle to myself."  

"I'm sure Chenle would help you out." Ningning half jokes. "Good luck finding him though." 

"Yeah, what the hell, this place is so crowded." Jeno returns with two drinks and hands one of them to Ningning. "It might be a bit strong, sorry." He warns her.   

Her face grimaces slightly when she takes a reluctant sip, proving Jeno right, making you both laugh. "Eh, it'll do." She says carelessly, "I've had a stressful week."  

"Here to help." Jeno raises his cup, and they do a quick cheers. They start conversing comfortably about why her week was stressful and you're pretty sure they've never met before but that's Ningning. Top yapper, never awkward.   

"Yours might be a bit on the strong side too." Haechan says apologetically as he stands in front of you, handing you back your now full cup. You smile at the sparkly straw he's added. Cute. "Try it."  

And you do. It feels too intense, almost intimate, drinking while holding eye contact with someone, let alone this fine man, so you don't. But you feel his eyes on you as you take a sip. And you really do hope the drink is strong, because if you're going to survive tonight, alcohol will be your savior. He's looking at you, carefully taking in your expression as you taste the drink, almost as if he's sat on the edge of his seat waiting for your reaction.   

"It's good. Thank you." You smile appreciatively as you welcome the slight burn in the back of your throat and he mirrors you excitedly. 

"Good." He nods with a satisfied expression. Then he lets his eyes wander downwards. He takes in your dress in a not-so-subtle way, and you could swear he’s checking you out. You watch his eyes move on you and you love how he's still holding his cup close to his lips, touching the bottom one. You fight against the urge to reach out and drag it down with your thumb. Would he mind if you did that? You reach behind you instead, resting one hand against the counter to somewhat ground yourself, and the action seems to bring him back to reality. Is he always this obvious? 

"Did you also have a stressful week?" He asks casually, like he wasn't just staring at your boobs a second ago. His eyes on yours now.  

"Huh?"  

"Your friend said she's had a stressful week," He explains, chuckling at your confusion. "Was just asking if it was the same for you."  

"Oh right. Umm, I dunno." You shrug. "A little, I guess." 

"How come?" His head tilts to the side slightly.  

"It's always fine until Thursday to be honest." Your admission holds a double meaning and he seems to catch on as the sides of his lips slightly lift amusedly.   

"Really? I thought Thursday was our day, no?" He playfully pouts and you’re trying your best not to let his smooth words affect you. Our day? What a little shit. You notice the silver chain around his neck and you can't help but feel a tinge of shame at the inappropriate thoughts that flood your mind. 

"Just not a big fan of stats." You make up an excuse with a slight delay, hoping that he can't tell you're practically ogling him. 

He nods understandingly. "You and me both. I've been seriously thinking about dropping it next semester."  

"What would you choose instead?" You ask curiously, trying to cover the frown that takes over your face at the thought of not sharing any classes with him. 

"Why, you interested in joining me?" Is he flirting or have you already gone insane?   

"Depends." You shrug, twirling the sparkly straw, eyes not leaving his. 

"I think I'd go for creative writing." He studies your face for a reaction.   

“Oh?” Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “So you really did mean it when you said you wanted to join a book club.” You tease with newfound confidence and he lets out an airy chuckle. 

“That offer's gone now, you turned me down.” He says with a smirk.   

"I'm sure I could convince you to reconsider." You say with a suggestive tone, catching him off guard and before he can retort with a witty response, you return to your initial subject. “So, you wanna be a writer or...?”  

"Well, no, not exactly.” His voice is hesitant, eyes lowering to look at his drink, almost as if he’s embarrassed. Does he think you’ll judge him? You suddenly get the feeling that you might have overstepped.   

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You don’t have to-”  

“No, no, you’re good.” His words are rushed, his head shaking quickly, hand reaching to touch your arm reassuringly. It’s light, quick, barely there but his fingers feel hot against your skin. Before you have time to react, he continues. “I just- I don’t really go around talking about personal goals and what not, don’t want you to think I’m flaunting.”  

“Why would I think you’re flaunting?” Your perplexed tone causing him to smile. 

“I wanna make music.” Eyes carefully watch you as he waits for a reaction. When you just nod for him to continue, he almost looks surprised but quickly recovers, clearing his throat. ”So, I thought creative writing would help.”  

"So, you wanna write songs." You state as if to make sure that you heard him correctly and he nods, still watching your face. "Or have you already?" You ask carefully and he chuckles at your attempt to keep your nosiness to a minimum but failing.   

He moves to stand next to you, leaning against the counter. You feel like you can breathe again, now that his eyes aren't on you, but his arm brushes against your shoulder and you almost shiver when you feel the warmth radiating off him. You get a whiff of his scent, subtly inhaling, cologne and detergent mixing into an intoxicating potion that clouds your senses. He's too close but you somehow want him closer. You suddenly wonder where Chenle is and instantly feel bad for threatening to cut his air circulation. This is good. This feels good.   

He looks down at his drink, in thought. "I play the piano, so creating a melody is relatively simple if I really put my mind to it." Oh? He looks at you again and you feel scrutinised under his gaze. Suddenly, your shoes are very interesting to look at. "It's just the words I struggle with." He admits.   

"Maybe you need to find some sort of inspiration?" You suggest.  

"Maybe." He puts his drink down and leans against the counter, crossing his hands on his chest. "Got anything in mind? 

"I mean, it could be a person." You say nonchalantly, without really thinking. "Unless you’ve already got that covered?" The bold question comes out before your brain can process the thought and you internally scream.   

He smiles wide now. Pearly whites on display. His eyes back on yours. "I thought you didn’t mean to pry." He teases and laughs when your eyes widen. “I’m joking.” He elbows your side softly and you almost gasp as the touch. Why does he keep touching you?   

“I tend to get nosy after a couple of drinks, sorry.” You huff a quick laugh before taking another sip of your drink, trying to distract yourself.  

“You can be nosy, I don’t mind.” He says in a more serious tone now and you feel his gaze on you. Choosing to keep your eyes on your drink seems like a wise choice, watching as you swirl the liquid in your cup. "To answer your question though, I currently have no clue what or who I'd write about." He responds indirectly, but the implication is clear. He reaches for his drink again in thought. "Maybe ask me in a year's time? Hopefully I’ve found a source of inspiration by then."   

“That’s fair.” You pick up your phone from the counter and after unlocking it you click on your calendar app. You scroll until you find next year’s October and select today's date. He looks over your shoulder and laughs when he reads 'Ask Haechan about his songwriting' as the reminder's title. You show him your screen and smile when you see the approval on his face.   

"Yeah, that works." He nods.  

You look around and notice that all your friends are now gone. "We should probably mingle." You suggest.   

"Right, yeah." He agrees with a nod, looking around just like you did a second ago. 

When you spot Ningning in the crowd, she's laughing with Jeno and Jaemin. Their attention on Chenle and the girl who's got her tongue down his throat. You and Haechan find the situation just as comical.   

The rest of the night flows smoothly. You get to meet a few more people as well as the other two boys Haechan, Jeno and Jaemin live with and you wonder how all these insanely attractive boys came to be friends. Renjun and Jisung are both equally as lovely. You find Renjun’s mother figure hilarious and Jisung’s shyness endearing. You don't fail to notice that Haechan always hovers close. Not necessarily standing or sitting next to you, but always close enough that you can see him from your peripheral and you can't help but wonder if it's intentional or just a coincidence. 

You’re mid conversation with Mark when you feel a hand on your lower back. You easily recognise the now familiar scent of his cologne, and you instantly turn your head and look at him. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol deceiving you, but he looks even more irresistible than he did before. His hair slightly stuck to his forehead from the heat surrounding the crowded living room, cheeks and lips a deeper shade of pink now that he’s had his fair share of alcohol. You wonder if his lips taste the same as yours since you’ve been having the same drink all night.

“Shots?” Haechan shouts over the music and you and Mark follow him into the kitchen, where Jaemin and Jeno are preparing tequila shots and you wonder who assigned these two clowns with bartender duties. Chenle is now gulping down a glass of water and you’re thankful to whoever made that decision for him. 

As soon as you’ve downed your shot, you take a sip of your drink as a chaser to minimise the burning sensation in your esophagus. “Wanna go get some air?” Haechan leans in and you almost shiver as his warm breath fans against your naked shoulder and you internally thank Ningning for prompting you to wear a strapless dress.   

You respond with a quick nod and he smiles. “I got you.” He mumbles as he takes hold of your hand and leads you to the big balcony doors. On the way, he grabs a hoodie you assume he dumped earlier on the couch and the second you’re outside and he shuts the door, you feel the ringing in your ears. You’re thankful for the fresh air infiltrating your lungs and brain, feeling a little less intoxicated now. “Maybe that shot was a bad call,” Haechan laughs quietly at your dazed expression. “Didn’t take you for a lightweight.” He teases.  

“Yah!” You elbow him, your voice louder than you intended it to be and he giggles softly, clearly also affected by the drinks he’s had all night. “I’ve had the same amount as you.” You pout drunkenly.   

“I’m just teasing.” His smile soft now.   

“Yeah, you seem to keep doing that.” You say with a complaint in your tone, eyes narrowing.   

“Maybe I wouldn’t if you didn’t keep getting all flustered every single time.” His words take you aback; a surprised laugh escaping your throat at his boldness.   

Before you have time to speak, he notices your arms coming up to conceal a shiver and without a word, he’s closer than he’s ever been before. His arms circle around you, hands hovering just above your shoulders as he holds up the hoodie, waiting for you to slot your arms through the sleeves. You look up at him before you obey, his intense stare not giving much room for any objection.   

Once it’s on you, his hands come to your front to fix the neckline that connects to the hood and when you think he’s about to zip you up, he reaches behind you again, playfully dragging the hood up, over your head, covering most of your face with the thick fabric and you whine loudly, causing him to laugh. You push the hood back down, with a frown.

“Aww, cute.” He coos as he gently tames the mess he created on your head, fingers untangling and smoothing down the strands and he smiles endearingly when he’s happy with his work. "There you go, all done." 

“Thanks.” You say in a bashful tone.   

“For keeping you warm or calling you cute?” He asks with a smirk and you can’t help but scoff, feigning annoyance as you swat away the hand still playing with a strand of your hair.   

Desperately needing to escape his daring eyes, you walk past him and towards the railing as you take in the view of the twinkling city lights and you withhold a smile when you feel him follow after you.  

You feel his stare on you as he leans against the railing, taking a vape out of his pocket. He takes a puff and exhales the smoke through his nose, as he takes in the view himself, before turning to meet your eyes again. The action shouldn’t feel this intimate and it definitely shouldn’t make him look even more attractive than he already is. 

You instinctively reach out and fix the chain that’s somewhat tangled around his neck. He doesn’t flinch, just moves his head to the side to make room for your hand and the sides of his lips twitch, fighting a grin. “What flavour is it?” You drop your hand from his collar and step a little closer to take a look at the fruit-flavoured stick in his hand.   

“Cherry ice.” He holds it out for you. “Wanna try it?”   

When you do, you can't help but scrunch your nose at the sugary taste. “Hmm.” Your uncertainty obvious as you exhale the smoke. “It’s too sweet.” You cringe at the aftertaste, your funny expression making him laugh. And you feel your heartbeat fastening at the sound. Because you're right. It's too sweet. 

“I like sweet things.” He says in a hushed voice, as if he's letting you in on a secret. The dual meaning of his words causes a blush to creep up from your neck to your cheeks. You can tell he notices, but this time he holds back on teasing you and turns to look at the view again, taking another puff.  

You gawk at how handsome he looks from this angle. His long lashes, the slope of his perfect nose, his incredibly kissable heart-shaped lips, his sharp jawline, his neck. Pretty. Everything about him. 

“Yeah, I bet you do.” You mutter in a daze. He looks at you again and you don’t look away this time. His brown eyes sparkle, reflecting the city lights below. You realise that you’ve never actually been around him in a setting like this. It’s always been daytime with him. Always crowded. Always surrounded by noise that you had to block out. But now it’s all new.   

Nighttime. Just you two. Quiet.   

“That dress looks good on you, I like it.” His eyes trail down your form again, a lot quicker this time, but still noticeable and at this point you're convinced he's not even trying to hide it. 

Your face feels warmer than before as you look down at your dress, your hand instinctively smoothing down the material. You can see the smoke he exhales from your peripheral and then you choose your words boldly again. “I know you do.”   

“Really?” He steps closer and his hand comes up, thumb delicately tracing the tiny bow at the centre of your cleavage. “What gave me away?” Your heartbeat increases when his fingers trail upwards, pushing your hair behind your shoulder and settling on the base of your neck, his thumb on your jaw, giving you no option but to look up at him.   

“You’re just-” You pause to inhale sharply when you realise how close he is. Your noses almost bumping into each other. You tip your head back slightly, to look at him properly.  

“I’m what?” He urges you to go on.  

“Not very subtle.” You finally finish your sentence.   

“Y/N-” He says with a breathy laugh and you don’t think you’ve ever liked the sound of your name so much before. The tip of his nose rubs against your own just once and the sweetest smile takes over his features. You feel yourself leaning into him even more. His thumb still caressing your jaw and you know he wants to kiss you, but you wait. You let him take the lead. Because you need him to. “I don’t think I ever intended to be subtle with you.”   

Your gaze drifts down to his lips and you so desperately want them on yours now, you think you might cave and close the gap yourself. One of your hands travels up and your pointer finger curls around his chain, pulling just a tiny bit.  And the second he closes the gap you think you’re going through an out-of-body experience. His lips feel soft, and you can instantly tell he’s a good kisser.   

His mouth slots perfectly against yours, slow at first. But he doesn’t waste time when your lips eagerly part against his. He licks at your bottom lip teasingly before briefly sucking, tongue easily finding its way in and the second it glides against your own, hot and wet, you moan. Both your hands find their way in his hair, slightly pulling, and you feel him sigh against your mouth. The hand on your jaw drags slowly to the back of your neck and into your hair, tilting your head to get the angle he wants. It's filthy, the perfect amount of sloppy and careful. A thousand times better than what you’ve imagined. He sucks on your tongue, forcing another moan out of you.   

You try to pull away for a second to catch your breath but the hand in your hair silently instructs you to stay put. “Mmh-mm.” He protests with a whine and the vibration against your mouth feels delicious. Arousing. And you feel pathetic at how wet you already are just from kissing him. He licks into your mouth one more time before pulling back, allowing you to catch your breath, a string of saliva still connecting your lips as you both breathe heavily and your fingers tighten around the collar of his shirt in desperation.   

“Fuck.” He exhales against your lips, sounding beautifully wrecked, chest moving up and down rapidly against your own and your erect nipples feel so sensitive rubbing on his shirt. Even with your eyes still closed, you can sense him looking at you, making you feel exposed and incredibly turned on at the same time.    

You fully come back to your senses when he starts walking you backwards until you’re eventually backed up against the wall next to the balcony door, suddenly reminding you of your surroundings. You don’t have much time to think before his lips are on yours again and you immediately turn into mush in his arms, mouth pliantly giving him access. The only things audible are your heavy breathing and the wet sounds of your lips smacking. The faint music coming from inside, barely noticeable now.

Haechan wraps a hand around your throat, gentle but possessive and you love the weight of it on your sweaty skin, just resting there with intend. His other hand grabs the side of your thigh, raising your leg to rest on his hip. And that’s when you feel the hardness, grinding slowly against your tummy, testing the waters, and you can’t help but gasp in response. 

His mouth leaves yours, trailing gentle kisses down your jaw and the side of your neck, leaving wet patches of your combined spit on your skin, and when he reaches the dip of your collarbone, he bites gently, soothing the skin with his tongue afterwards. You can’t help but clench around nothing.   

He angles your head to the side, giving himself more space to suck and lick where he pleases as his other hand trails from your thigh to the curve of your ass, squeezing the flesh and bunching up your dress in the process. You whimper at the feeling of his rough hand, your eyes rolling back when he grinds into your front again, with more urgency this time.  

"Fuck." You whisper breathlessly, feeling lightheaded.   

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your sensitive skin, and you cup his face in your hands, guiding him to look at you again. “What do you want?” He gives you a sweet peck and you instantly melt, your insides turning into mush as you hold him there, kissing him deeply again, squishing his cheeks between your hands and he smiles into the kiss, biting your bottom lip playfully, letting lets it snap back into place, making you whine softly. “Talk to me baby.” It’s barely audible, and he says it with ease, like he’s been calling you that for a long time and your eyes almost roll back at the pet name. A few hours ago, you were high on nerves because of him and now you’re just high on him, touching you and kissing you and calling you ‘baby’, like he owns you.   

Your thumbs caress his cheekbones before you trail your hands back up into his hair, nails gently scratching his scalp and he closes his eyes, humming in satisfaction. “Want you,” You murmur and kiss the side of his mouth as you drag a hand down his arm, giving his bicep a squeeze, before sneaking down to his hand that’s casually resting on your ass like it belongs there. You interlock your fingers with his, bringing both your hands between your bodies, guiding him under the front of your short dress, pressing his fingers against the seat of your lacy underwear. “Here.” You whisper against his lips and he inhales deeply, his nostrils flaring and you almost laugh at his reaction. Your leg wraps securely around him urging him closer by pushing the calf into his ass.   

“Jesus Christ.” He whispers and his eyes are on his hand as his fingers now start rubbing slowly against your sensitive clit, the delicate lace somewhat helping with the much-needed friction, but you desperately want to feel his skin on yours with no barrier.   

You kiss him again and he pliantly parts his lips for your tongue to invade, allowing you to taste the remnants of cherry ice. Your wet muscle glides against his slowly, and you moan when he pushes the flimsy material of your panties aside, like he’s read your mind. The moan turns into a whine when his middle and ring fingers make direct contact with your swollen clit, rubbing slow circles around the nub with precision, like he knows exactly what you like and you kiss him harder trying to distract yourself from the sensitivity, because there’s no way you’re cumming just from a few touches like a horny teenager.

You both moan in the kiss the moment his fingers dip lower and drag through your wet slit and he doesn’t waste a second, rubbing up and down slowly, spreading the wetness messily.   

“You're soaked, fuck.” he mumbles in awe and you bask in the feeling of him finally knowing how much you want him; how much you need him to do something about it. “Messy baby.” His filthy words cloud your brain as your head lulls back against the wall to watch his face. He looks so pretty, his bottom lip trapped in his mouth, his glazed eyes focused on his hand still working between your legs. 

He must feel your eyes on him because he looks up at you and watches your reaction with a satisfied expression as the tip of his middle finger catches at your entrance before coming back up to your clit, spreading more of your wetness. He smirks when your jaw drops and your eyes roll back as he starts rubbing the bundle of nerves in firm and quick side-to-side motions with three of his fingers. 

"You're so pretty." He mutters against your lips and your stomach flutters at the words, along with your pussy.

“Fuck.” You whine when you feel him delicately suckle on your bottom lip, his tongue playfully dipping out to lick before he starts kissing down to your neck again and your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding him close, tugging at the fabric of his shirt in desperation. “So good.” You breathe into the night air, relishing in the intense pleasure the pads of his digits are giving you, flicking with just the right amount of pressure, exactly how yours would.   

“Wanna make you cum.” He breathes heavily into your neck, dragging his lips up until he gently bites your earlobe. His fingers move faster now, abusing your poor clit, circling and massaging harder, and you feel a bead of sweat rolling down the back of your bent knee.   

“Yeah, want it.” You nod eagerly, your hips jolting forward and he inhales sharply.   

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes on you now. “Think you can take it?” His fingers now slowing down, teasing.  

“Uh-huh.” You manage to get out in urgency as his fingers dip down again. “Please.” You stare into his eyes, and you feel yours starting to water when his middle and ring fingers slowly slide into you with ease. Your jaw drops, the stretch delicious and so needed, so welcome. Your vision blurs when he slowly starts pumping them in and out, testing the waters first and your eyes roll back in relief. A squeal escapes you when he curls his fingers just the right amount and starts fucking in and out of your pussy at a rapid pace, like he’s on a mission.   

“Oh fuck!” You exclaim in shock, your hand flying to his bicep as you look down at his hand, the veins protruding on his tan arm, the sight so sinful you have to close your eyes again. The heel of his palm rubbing against your clit each time he fucks into you, creates a deliciously warm vibration. The sounds are obscene, your wetness making every thrust loud. 

Another pornographic moan breaks out of you when his pace gets a little rougher and Haechan has to shut you up with a hand on your mouth. Your shaky fingers are clawing at his chest, over his shirt, and he lets out a low grunt against the hand he’s got pressed on your mouth, his forehead resting on yours and his eyes closing when you clench around his fingers. Your legs start shaking from the intense pleasure and he opts to wrapping his arm securely around your waist in order to help you maintain your compromised balance. He doesn’t hesitate to replace his hand with his lips, silencing you with a wet, tongue-filled kiss, swallowing all your noises. You’re not really kissing him back, your lips parted against his at a pathetic attempt of reciprocating, just panting and whining, completely lost in pleasure. 

“I’m so close.” You whisper and you feel like you’re on the verge of crying.   

“I’ve got you, baby, c'mon.” He murmurs into the messy kiss breathlessly, saliva coating both your chins and you love every second of it. The pads of his fingers now abusing the spongy spot at the front of your walls at an intense speed, hitting it just perfectly and you think you might pass out. Your walls flutter around his fingers, sucking him in and you're sure he can tell you're right there. Slick is dripping down his wrist, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. “Fuck yeah, there it is.”  

“Haechan, I'm-“ Your eyes slightly widen, and you can’t even finish your sentence as you stumble over the edge. “Oh my god.” Your voice strained, your lungs struggling to keep up. The heat from where his fingers are burying repeatedly, starts spreading and your stomach clenches. Your walls clamp down on his hand, kneading his fingers and for a second, his eyes close, seeming to enjoy the constricting feeling. Your own eyes roll back at the pleasure, eyebrows creased, jaw dropping in a silent moan, breaths coming out quick and you're sure he can feel your leg shaking uncontrollably against his hip.   

“Fuck, you feel so good.” His words make you smile in your daze, and you bite on your bottom lip knowing he finds pleasure in your own. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, letting you ride out your high for as long as possible and when your eyes open, you see him watching your face in awe, and ironically, you feel shy.

His fingers slow down when you whine from overstimulation, until he completely halts and buries them inside to enjoy the feeling of your sensitive walls for a little longer. He kisses your cheek sweetly as he carefully pulls out of you, his fingers bumping lightly against your clit, causing you to flinch. He buries his face in your neck to conceal his laugh, hot breath fanning against your damp skin as he scatters little kisses.

You sigh and relax contently when his warm hand cups your soaked centre and he keeps it there in a comforting manner.   

"Good?” He whispers, nose delicately rubbing against your flushed skin and you almost don’t hear him due to the ringing in your ears still lingering after the intense high.  

"Yeah." Your forehead is sweaty; you feel baby hairs sticking to the damp skin and you lazily smile at how fast his heart is beating against your palm. Your eyes are staring dreamily at his face and you rub your nose against his, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek affectionately. Your thumb drags across his bottom lip and he bites on it playfully, his nose scrunching cutely, making you swoon. It scares you how comfortable you already feel around him.   

Your leg drops from his hip, and you wince at the soreness. His hand now trapped between your legs, still cupping your heat. An idea pops into your head, making you smirk and he watches your expression with an inquisitive look, eyebrows raising slightly in question. 

"What?" He asks, eyes innocent, seemingly lost. 

You firmly wrap a hand around his wrist, trying not to whimper when you feel his fingers drag against your sensitive clit and your hold tightens. He lets you lift his hand between both your faces, his eyes inspecting the strings of wetness stretching between his long digits. Without warning you lean forward, wrapping your swollen lips around the two fingers that were inside you just a few minutes ago and Haechan whimpers at the sinful gesture. It’s erotic, filthy and you don’t even know what took over you but you certainly relish in his reaction. Your eyes watching him carefully, his pupils dilated as he watches you hungrily, cheeks flushed, swollen lips parted prettily.   

“Shit, baby.” His voice on the whiny side now, and you feel his other hand tightening on your hip. He’s very clearly turned on and you almost feel bad for torturing him, considering he’s done nothing but please you. He pushes his fingers deeper inside your mouth wanting you to taste yourself and you swirl your tongue around them, harshly sucking, making a mess on purpose. You let a satisfied hum around his digits, closing your eyes as you pull them out with a wet pop.   

“You’re being unfair now.” He grunts and grabs the back of your neck, crashing his lips against yours in an open-mouthed kiss. Teeth clashing and tongues tangling messily as he licks into your mouth obscenely, moaning at the taste of you. You let out a surprised yelp when his fingers find your oversensitive cunt again and he dips them between your puffy lips, rubbing them up and down, like he did before, unforgivingly ignoring your protesting sounds. “Still so wet.” He mutters into the kiss and you whine pathetically.   

“Mmf-, too much.” You force the words out against his mouth and grab his wrist in urgency this time. He laughs meanly but obliges anyway. He brings his soaked fingers up to his own lips this time and you can’t seem to be able to break eye contact as he slowly sucks on them, making a spectacle, the act much more intimate when he’s the one doing it.   

Once he’s done, he drops his hand on your waist, wiping the wetness on the material of his hoodie and kisses you again, this time slow, languidly, wanting to savour your taste and he moans when your hands start unbuckling his belt. “Can I make you cum?” You murmur into the kiss and he’s contemplating but just as he's about to kiss you again, the moment is ruined by a wandering Jaemin, who rolls the doors open and lets out a shocked sound when he steps out.   

“Oh shit, sorry.” His eyes widen when he realises it’s you and Haechan he’s walked in on and not a couple of strangers. “Oh shit.” He says again, with more emphasis this time and you bury your face in Haechan’s shoulder to hide your embarrassment. His arm around your waist tightens in reassurance, sensing your unease and you smile against his neck in silent gratitude. “Yo!” Jaemin says loudly and points an accusatory finger at both of you. "What the fuck? We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”   

“Jaem, read the fucking room.” Haechan’s tone is slightly harsh but his touch feels delicate where his hand strokes gently on your waist. “Go back inside, we’ll join you in a bit.”   

Jaemin grins mischievously. “Well, most people have gone home now, I just came out to have a smoke, but I’ll leave you to it.” He moves to head back inside but before shutting the big glass door he pokes his head out again. “Oh, just fyi, Chenle is passed out on the sofa and Mark is still in there somewhere, just in case you’re planning on fucking out here.” His expression then changes, eyes narrowing as he inspects both of you from head to toe, a look of realisation taking over his face. 

“Unless you already have?” He poses quizzically. 

“You’ll go back inside now, unless you want Jeno finding out about last-“   

”Kay bye!” Jaemin quickly shuts the door, fleeing the scene before Haechan can finish his sentence.  

“Sorry about him.” Haechan mutters, burying his face into your shoulder and lets out a sigh. “Half his brain cells appear to be dead.” You snort at his jokey comment but you can sense the irritation in his voice. You run your fingers through his hair, scratching on the back of his neck and smile to yourself when you feel him shiver against you, his cheek resting on your shoulder.   

He lifts his head, looking down your figure as his hands slide down your hips and onto the tops of your thighs, dipping under the hem of your dress and before you can protest, he slips your underwear back into place. His knuckles drag against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and your breath hitches when you feel him tap his fingers against your core lightly. He laughs when you slap his hand away and you narrow your eyes at him scoldingly. You relax when he smooths over the fabric of your dress to make it look less wrinkled and you find yourself fighting a smile at the sweet gesture. It feels domestic almost. 

“Thanks.” You say softly, eyes locking with his. He smiles and leans down to quickly peck you on the lips. His hands caress your sides one last time and then they slide up, squeezing your tits softly in the process, the pads of his fingers lightly dipping into the flesh that spills over the top of your tight dress.  

”Pretty.” He mumbles almost to himself and if you were under the impression he was an ass man, now you're thinking you might have been wrong. He continues his journey upwards, taming your messy hair, gently combing stray strands behind your ears. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”   

When you step back inside, you both quietly laugh at the sight of poor Chenle sprawled face first on his new sofa and you’re pretty sure he’s drooling on it. Haechan heads into the kitchen and comes back with a glass of water, which he places on the coffee table next to Chenle’s unmoving body. He then maneuvers him carefully, turning him on his side so he doesn’t choke to death in his sleep with his face buried in the cushions. You smile at the thoughtful gesture, and you move to grab your bag from the coffee table to distract yourself from the fluttering in your stomach.   

“’Will he be okay on his own?” A tinge of concern in his eyes.   

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. He always passes out like this when he gets too drunk.” You lean down and leave a small kiss on Chenle’s temple, brushing the hair away from his forehead. “I’d say he looks angelic but he’s actually the devil incarnate.” You whisper, observing Chenle’s cute face, and you can confirm he’s actually drooling on his sofa. 

_

The walk back to your place is mostly quiet but comfortable. Haechan swings your interlocked hands distractedly as you’re both walking at a slow pace, trying to prolong the night for as long as possible. 

“What’s Jaemin’s dirty laundry then? You threatened him you’d tell Jeno earlier.” You break the silence and he chuckles at your question. 

“He had sex in Jeno’s bed last year.” He chuckles as he spills the secret and looks at you, gauging your reaction. 

“Sounds like someone needs to teach that boy a lesson.” You say, and before you can stop the words tumbling out of your mouth, “Maybe we should fuck in his bed.” Your eyes widen at your own words and Haechan’s head snaps up to look you, mirroring your shocked expression. And then he laughs loudly. A kind of laugh you’ve never heard from him. His hand rests on his abdomen as if his stomach is in pain.   

“Alright it’s not that funny.” You pout in embarrassment. “In my head it sounded kind of sexy.”   

His laugh gradually dies down until there’s just amusement written on his face. “I mean, we can do that if you actually want to, but I have other priorities.”   

“Meaning?” 

“Well..” He trails in thought. “Ideally, I'd like to take you out first,” You feel like exploding but you maintain a stoic expression, gesturing him to continue. “And I'd rather fuck you in my own bed before moving on to Jaemin’s or anyone else’s.”   

Your breath catches at his forwardness and you’re suddenly struggling to find the right words. “Umm,” you think carefully. “What about my bed?” You ask innocently.   

"Don't worry, it's up there." His smirk makes you feel weak and you feel him squeeze your hand in his, running his thumb over the back of it.   

“You sound awfully confident.” You say calmly, fighting a smile.  

He pulls you closer by your hand. “What, you think I’m playing?” He almost sounds offended.   

“I dunno, don’t really know much about you.” You shrug. 

“Do you want to?” He asks and for the first time he sounds nervous.   

You squeeze his hand the same way he did with yours, hoping to reassure him. “I think I’ve made it pretty clear that I do.” You halt your movements when you reach your building and look up into his eyes. “A lot.” His fingers stay intertwined with yours lazily. A relieved smile takes over his expression, and you really feel like kissing him again. He looks shy all of a sudden and a giggle escapes your throat. “Cute.”   

He clicks his tongue to show annoyance, and you can see him poking the muscle against the inside of his cheek, trying to hold back a smile when he looks away for a second. Then he steps closer, invading your space again. “You wanna give me your number? I don’t really use instagram.”   

“Okay, green flag.” You say playfully and he snorts. You hold your hand out for him to pass you his phone and when you’ve saved your contact, you text yourself a “hi” so you can save his number too.   

“Cool.” He says casually as he shoves his phone in his back pocket.   

“Cool.” You say back and step closer to him, wanting to feel his warmth one more time before parting ways. He smiles in understanding and pulls you closer, wrapping both arms around your waist to hold your body flush against his. You wrap your arms around his middle and rest your head on his chest. “I had fun tonight.” You murmur.  

He rests his chin at the top of your head. One of his hands sneaks up and holds the back of your neck gently while the other strokes the small of your back. “I did too.” His fingers bury in your hair, gently pulling to make you look at him but you don’t get the chance, because his lips are on yours instantly, dragging slowly, carefully. Both his hands cup your face as he licks your bottom lip for access, which you give without a second thought and his tongue sneaks in to play with yours, letting you taste him. Your body completely relaxes against his, enjoying the warm feeling of his chest against yours.  

You whine when he pulls back to look at you and he smiles when your lips trail after his. He gives in with a smile, chastely kissing you again. No tongue this time, but he playfully sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and you love how safe you feel in his arms. He trails up, kissing the tip of your nose and back down again as he gives you another wet smooch before creating a tiny bit of distance between your lips while still maintaining the closeness between your bodies.  

You smile against his jaw as you slip your hand into his empty back pocket, lightly squeezing his ass cheek and he laughs at your playfulness.

“Okay, you better go now before I drag you upstairs with me.” You give him a little kiss on the cheek before slipping away from his warmth. You take off his hoodie and hand it back to him.   

"Mmm okay." He moves away reluctantly. “I’ll text you yeah?” He says with a cute smile.  

“I’ll try and text you back.” You tease and he rolls his eyes, his smile not faltering.   

“Night, Y/N.” He quietly says in the night air and you melt at the way your name rolls off his tongue.  

“Night, Haechan.” You give him a small wave goodbye and watch him walk away.   

_

The next morning, you're quietly munching on your cereal, lost in thought, reminiscing last night like it’s a distant memory, when you see a hungover Jeno messily stumbling out of Ningning's room, carrying his shoes in one hand and his jacket in the other. "Didn't care to take off your shoes at the door?" Your voice seems to startle him in the quiet of the morning.   

"Shit!" His reaction making you laugh. "Fuck, Y/N, you scared me."  

"Sorry." You're really not. "Are you pulling a French exit on my friend?" Your serious tone seems to intimidate him.  

"No, she's awake, just snoozing." He says quickly. "I swear." You try not to laugh at the nervousness written all over his face. "Nothing happened, we just cuddled."   

"Relax, I'm just fucking with you." You chuckle at his disheveled state. "Want some breakfast? I can offer three kinds of cereal." You point at your selection of boxes.  

His eyes widen eagerly at that. "Sure, thanks." He walks towards where you're sitting at the kitchen table, dropping his shoes on the floor and his jacket on the back of his chair, before taking a seat across from you. "I'll just have what you're having." He says with a sweet smile, eyes almost disappearing and you realise he sort of looks like a Samoyed puppy but refrain from making a comment. You’re not that close after all.  

You nod and get up to grab him a bowl. He's looking at his phone when he speaks up again. "So, you and Haechan?" You hold back a smile as you pass him a bowl with a spoon and the milk. He looks at you again and he explains when he sees your questioning stare. "Jaemin messaged the group chat."  

"Ah," You nod in understanding. "Of course."  

"So?" He asks expectantly, chewing loudly after he's poured the milk in his cheerios.   

"What, you can't wait until he tells you himself?" You ask sarcastically.  

"Girls' perspectives are always better." He pauses mid munch. "Plus, Haechan is the most private dude when it comes to stuff like that." For some reason that doesn't surprise you.   

"Good for him." You get up to wash your bowl after finishing. "Maybe you're just too nosy."   

"Oh c'mon, it's not that big of a deal, is it?" Your silence seems to intrigue him. "Or maybe it is?"  

You turn to look at him when you're done washing up, leaning next to the sink and you see he's already devoured the contents of his bowl. "Feel free to go for seconds." You say pointing at the box in front of him and his face lights up before he starts pouring more cereal.   

"Do you like him then?" He asks casually as he starts munching again and the question makes you falter. "Because, if you do," He swallows. "I can confirm it's reciprocated." Your eyebrows lift at his confession and Jeno smirks at your shocked expression. "Just spill, I won't tell him." And you trust his words, but you suddenly feel shy, thinking about your intimate moments with Haechan.   

"I'll tell you if you tell me about you and Ning." You like knowing boys' perspectives too.  

"Sounds fair." He nods with his mouth full.   

"You want the TMI or PG-13 version?" You appreciate he's still eating so you don't want to ruin his breakfast.

"TMI, always." He says casually.  

"He fingered me on Chenle's balcony and then said he wants to take me out." Jeno chokes at your confession.  

"Jesus woman!" He coughs lightly and clears his throat before continuing. "No tact whatsoever."  

You snort at his reaction. "You said 'TMI always' no?"  

"Was it good?" He asks in a quieter and more serious tone now. Like he's asking you to share one of your deepest secrets. And here you were thinking you weren’t that close. You can’t help but laugh because that sounds like what Ningning would have asked in a situation like this. Maybe they are a good match after all.   

"The fingering?" He nods at your question, eyes not leaving yours, having paused his eating, spoon still in hand hovering over his bowl. "I mean, I thought I was gonna pass out at some point so, yeah, pretty good."  

An eyebrow raised in fascination. "Damn, go Haechan." Then he asks carefully. "So, I take it you'd go out with him?"  

You shrug. "Maybe, but I don’t think I want a situationship or anything like that."  

"You're in luck, he's not into that shit either." 

"We'll see, he hasn't texted yet." You try to sound casual but you know Jeno can see right through you.   

"Don't worry, he will."   

"Who says I'm worried?" You huff a humorless laugh.   

He rolls his eyes and gets up to walk over to the sink, taking his bowl with him. "If he said he wants to take you out, he meant it. And trust me when I say, that boy has had enough of casual flings. He might be going about it a bit backwards, but he’s definitely interested." He states like it's a fact and you're thankful he's trying to reassure you even though he doesn't owe you anything.   

"How do you know it's reciprocated?" You ask carefully, referring to what Jeno said earlier and he smiles cheekily.   

"I thought you weren't worried." He teases, moving his eyebrows up and down and you flick the back of his head. "Ow! Okay okay, jeez." He rubs the sore spot with the inside of his wrist to prevent his soapy fingers from touching his hair. He then proceeds to dry the clean bowl with the kitchen towel he spots on the counter and hands it to you with a sweet smile on his face.   

"Thanks, you didn't have to wash up." You say, putting the bowl back on its shelf. He waves his hand, gesturing that there's no need to thank him for something so small.  

"He said he thought you were ‘pretty cool’ after we hounded you on Thursday and for the first time in, like, forever, he was stressing about his outfit before a party."  

You give him a pointed look. "How’s that an indication of anything?"  

"Trust me, that's enough indication for Haechan. He's probably already planning your wedding as we speak." You roll your eyes at his exaggeration. "Y/N, he likes you. It was so obvious that both me and Jaem knew he was gonna make a move last night." He sits down again and starts putting his shoes on. "Obviously, I didn't think he was gonna finger you in a public space and what not but-"  

"To be fair, I initiated that." You interrupt him and he snorts.  

"I'm sure he didn't mind." Jeno jokes with a smirk, and you cover your face in embarrassment, earning a chuckle from him. He must be enjoying this because he proceeds to tease even more. "If anything, he probably found that incredibly hot." You groan at his words. "Seriously, there's nothing hotter than a woman who knows what she wants."   

You look at him through your fingers still covering your face, a teasing comment pops in your head. Two can certainly play this game.   

"That explains why you didn't sleep in your own bed last night." You notice the blush that creeps up on his cheeks and you can help but cross your arms over your chest proudly.  

"Yeah, something like that." He says sheepishly, his hand awkwardly scratching the back of his neck and you suddenly can't wait for your debrief with Ningning later. "Anyway, my point is, I think you should give him a chance." He finishes putting his shoes on, both feet on the floor now and he looks at you, his back leaning against the chair and his arms crossing over his chest. "He's a great guy." 

"Alright, enough about me, your turn now."   

_

Haechan likes to think he's a decent guy. He's got his life together; he's on top of his coursework, he gets decent grades, he's got good friends and he's got a part-time job at a record store that pays relatively well. At least well enough to cover his own personal expenses. His parents help him out with rent, but they do appreciate his efforts and he does his best to not feel like a burden. He's a good son and a good big brother to all three of his siblings. 

He's polite to old people and even helps them cross the street when he needs to, he loves his friends and always looks out for them, even if he gets grumpy sometimes, he never holds grudges and is upfront about things that bother him. He likes buying his loved ones presents and not just for special occasions. Not because he's a people pleaser, but because he just likes making them happy whenever he can. He tries not to lie except for the odd white lie here and there.

He doesn't fuck around or date aimlessly. At least not anymore. He went through a phase during his first year of uni but it's been two years since then and he's currently embracing single life. Yes, he sometimes does cave into the temptation of bringing a girl back after a party, but it's a rare occurrence and he's always honest about what he wants. He hates leading people on. It's not that he's afraid of commitment, he often finds himself wanting a girlfriend but he's not actively searching for one either.   

He knows he doesn't lack in the looks department, or in any other department really. Yeah, he's got his silly insecurities like everyone else but he's a confident guy overall. Although, he does admit that he can sometimes be cocky, that's because he knows he's the most mature out of his friends. Yes, Renjun mostly looks after everyone and has a motherly figure, but Haechan gives the best advice when it comes to most serious life dilemmas, and he's aware of that. He might not be the brightest when it comes to academics but he's confident when it comes to navigating life sensibly and responsibly. That's why he was completely and utterly flabbergasted when you came into the picture. His picture.   

He's always noticed you before, yes, and he's always thought you were good looking, but that's about it. He doesn't just go around hitting on every girl he finds attractive. He's more of a 'personality above all else' type of man, so when he first saw you, even though he thought to himself 'wow, pretty', he didn't think it would be appropriate to just come up to you and ask for your number. Plus, you seemed somewhat reserved from the few times you had exchanged words. Not that he didn't like that, because he did, he did find you intriguing, he would get to know you if the opportunity posed itself to him, but he also didn't feel like chasing after you would be something you'd like or even welcome. You didn't seem cold, just indifferent. And so, he kind of just opted to observing you from afar.

Sometimes you were alone, other times you were with a girl whose name he didn't know, others with a boy whose name he couldn't remember. He was sure they'd met before though, maybe at a party around campus or maybe through a friend? He couldn't quite place him. Other times you were with them both, laughing your heart out at whatever you three were talking about and he found himself wondering what makes you laugh that hard.   

He knew you always sat two rows behind him in his stats class every Thursday afternoon, his last class of that day. However, he rarely got to see you on Thursdays, even though you were both in the same room for an hour and a half. You always arrived after him and left before him, so, whenever he turned his head at the end of the lecture to look for you, you were already gone. The times he did get to see you, were the times he would turn up a little later than normal, which was exactly one minute before the professor started speaking. Even then, he wasn't really able to observe you for as long as he'd ideally like. He would just get to see the back of your head for a few seconds before reaching his usual seat. He sometimes would pretend to crack his back, just to turn around twice and look at your pretty face for a few seconds. Your attention was always on the notes in front of you though. One time he did catch you already staring at him. You looked away the second his eyes met yours, almost shy. He found it cute and thought to himself; 'maybe she's not that indifferent after all'.   

He knew you and Jeno were somewhat friendly because you shared a few classes and he was sure he'd caught you speaking with Jaemin a couple times in corridors. He wasn't jealous or anything, but he definitely wouldn't mind being on first name basis with you too. And it's not like he was obsessed with you. He didn't really think about you that much, but his intrigue definitely intensified when he got to speak to you properly for the first time at that party just before summer. He can’t clearly remember what you two exactly talked about, but he does remember not wanting to leave, he remembers thinking you looked unreal and he certainly remembers wishing he could relive that moment sober so he could memorise every word that came out of your mouth.   

Things have changed now though. Drastically and unexpectedly. Because just two days ago he got to speak to you again and his curiosity morphed into excitement.

You pleasantly surprised him. From the way you handled yourself around Jaemin's obnoxiously loud personality to the way you put Jeno in his place like no girl ever has before. You were witty and smart and sweet. Too sweet. And he knows that, because he's quite literally tasted you now. Just a few hours ago he had you pinned against the wall of your friend's new apartment. Just a few hours ago he had you gasping and writhing and pathetically whining his name, simply because his fingers were too much for you. And he loved every second of it.   

Haechan didn't really go to Chenle's party thinking he'd get some. He was just excited to get to know you and speak to you one on one. He went into the situation hoping he could maybe flirt with you and end up with your number in his contact list at the end of the night, which he did. And maybe he was hoping he could get to walk you home and get a kiss from you, which again, he did. But he didn't expect you'd reciprocate his flirting like you were prepared for it. He definitely didn't expect you'd ask him who and what he wants to write songs about and he definitely didn't expect you to kiss him back the way you did.

He's kissed many people before. He's had good kisses, bad ones, a few memorable ones and certainly a lot of forgettable ones. He's never kissed anyone the way he kissed you, though. And he's equally never had anyone kiss him the way you kissed him. Not even ex-girlfriends. Not that he's had many, but the two he's had don't even come close. And that scares him. Because if Haechan thought he wasn't obsessed with you before, he really doesn't know what to think now. But what he does know is that it’s incredibly unfair of you to make him feel and think this much, this soon.

It's still early, the sun barely out. He's maybe managed to get four hours of sleep before getting woken up by the sound of someone retching in the bathroom down the hall. Most likely Jaemin. He almost fell asleep again after that but the sound of a door slamming, completely ruined his slumber. So, now he's just staring at his ceiling, one arm supporting his head on the pillow and the other resting lazily on his naked stomach. He feels tired but he knows he won't be able to go back to sleep now. And that's fine, because he can at least think about you. He can think about your voice and your scent and he can think about how you touched him and how you let him touch you. He can think about how you tried to keep quiet in the midst of pleasure but miserably failed repeatedly. And he's definitely going to think about how good you felt around his fingers. Perfect. There are so many things he can think about when it comes to you and there's not a single bad one. Everything related to you is good.   

You said you wanted to get to know him 'a lot', and that was exactly what he wanted to hear, but he can't help but wonder when you started to feel this way. Not that it matters that much, because, regardless of the timeline, he's going to make it happen. He's going to take you out and he's going to get to know you. He's almost worried that he's going about this in the wrong order, because, ideally, he would have wanted to take you out before any kissing and sexual activities took place. Not because he's old fashioned or some kind of prude, but because he doesn't want you getting the wrong impression. He doesn't want you thinking he's only into you because of the sexual chemistry you share. Of course, he thinks physical intimacy is important, but he's always found that emotional intimacy beats all. And he wants to see if he can get to that level with you. He knows you're compatible sexually, he could tell last night you were on the same wavelength. There was no awkwardness, no uncertainty. 

He could tell you knew your body well, that you knew what you wanted and he liked that you weren't shy about it. And he'd be lying if he said that wasn't one of his favourite parts of the night; the moment you guided his hand where you wanted it. He found that so attractive that he actually thought about it when he got in his bed last night and finally managed to relieve the hardness in his boxers. He loved that you weren't shy about how much you wanted him to touch you. You were the perfect amount of vocal, and your body reacted to his words the way he hoped it would. So, yes, he is positive sexual chemistry isn’t something you two would struggle with, but he also doesn't want it to be the main thing that you connect on. He wants a lot more than that.   

Haechan is self-aware. He's a horny guy and he's not shy about it. He likes what he likes and there's not much he doesn't like when it comes to sex. He's very much open to exploring and what not, but he knows that he's always struggled connecting with people on an emotional level before. Especially people he's dated. He's had flings and he's had casual sexual partners. He's been in a couple of serious relationships, and he's been infatuated with his ex-girlfriends or ex flings, but he knows he’s never been in love with any of them. He remembers thinking he loved his first girlfriend, but he was only 16 back then and when he thinks back to that relationship, he barely sees it as a relationship. All they ever did was go on walks, watch movies, cuddle and make out. Eventually it just fizzled out. 

His second relationship was serious, but toxic. He remembers enjoying the push-and-pull situation initially but when it all became so unbearably exhausting, it put him off relationships for a long time. Now that he's had time to be alone and process his own feelings, he knows he's capable of commitment, but he wants it to be with the right person, and he wants it to be with someone who will accept him for who he is. Haechan knows that if he found the one now, he would commit. And he doesn't know if you're the one, but he wouldn't mind exploring if you would stick around for the long run.   

And so, later in the day, when he's lazily sprawled on the sofa, next to a hungover Jeno, who apparently saw you this morning and reassured him that you're definitely interested, Haechan decides to finally text you like he promised. When he opens your chat, he sees you've already texted yourself to save his number and added a little sunflower emoji next to your name and he smiles to himself. He wonders if you've added an emoji next to his name too and if so, which one?  

20:03 Hae☀️: hey pretty   

20:03 Hae☀️: have any free periods tomorrow?   

20:09 y/n🌻: hii :)  

20:09 y/n🌻: i do 

20:10 y/n🌻: I am free between 1pm-3pm   

20:11 Hae☀️: wanna grab a coffee with me? 

20:12 y/n🌻: i'd love to 

20:13 Hae☀️: woop! 

20:13 Hae☀️: where shall I meet you?  

20:18 y/n🌻: how about the café by the architecture building?  

20:21 Hae☀️: i know the one  

20:21 Hae☀️: i'll be there there at 1pm sharp  

20:22 Hae☀️: don't stand me up 👉🏻👈🏻  

20:24 y/n🌻: i would never 🥺  

20:25 Hae☀️: thought about you a lot today  

20:26 y/n🌻: really?  

20:26 y/n🌻: what did you think about?  

20:28 Hae☀️: yes really  

20:28 Hae☀️: just...things   

20:29 Hae☀️: can't say much more than that   

20:29 Hae☀️: did you not think about me? :( 

20:31 y/n🌻: nah   

20:31 y/n🌻: not really :(  

20:32 Hae☀️: 🙄  

20:32 Hae☀️: ur rude  

20:32 Hae☀️: and a liar    

20:34 y/n🌻: oops  

20:34 y/n🌻: why ask a question you already know the answer to?   

20:35 Hae☀️: smooth   

20:35 Hae☀️: i guess i needed some reassurance  

20:36 y/n🌻: Hae?  

20:36 Hae☀️: yea?  

20:37 y/n🌻: I thought about you  

20:37 y/n🌻: a lot   

20:37 y/n🌻: like an unhealthy amount  

20:38 Hae☀️: fuck   

20:38 Hae☀️: didn't think you'd actually say it  

20:40 y/n🌻: happy?  

20:40 y/n🌻: it appears I can't say no to you  

20:41 Hae☀️: very :)  

20:41 Hae☀️: it appears the feeling is mutual  

The rest of Haechan's evening consists of him pretending he's paying attention to the Netflix show Jeno picked out for them to watch after dinner, when the only thing he's actually interested in are the messages he's exchanging with you. You told him you're also chilling on your couch with Ningning, watching a crime documentary with a bowl of instant ramen.  

"Bruh, you're astronomically whipped." Jeno laughs to himself, the constant buzzing coming from  Haechan's phone making it obvious that he's been messaging you.   

"Yeah, so? Deal with it." Haechan doesn't even lift his head to look at Jeno, just keeps smiling distractedly at his screen.   

Jeno snorts. "At least you're not denying it." He turns his attention back to the show he's practically been watching on his own for the past hour. "I respect that."  

Haechan looks up at Jeno and shrugs. "I'm no fraud, Lee Jeno. You, of all people, should know that." And that earns him laugh with a nod of approval.   

“You asked her out yet?” The question casual. No teasing tone detected, just curiosity.   

"I'm seeing her tomorrow between classes." Haechan's attention back on your chat.   

“Like a coffee date?” Jeno asks cutely and Haechan just responds with a nod, his thumbs hovering over his keyboard as he looks up at Jeno, waiting for some sort of comment.  

“That's a good first date.” Jeno's words of approval offer Haechan a sense of relief he didn't know he needed. "Just good quality time, no pressure."  

“Yeah, that's what I was thinking.” Haechan's eyes are on the tv now, but he isn't really paying attention to the programme.  

Jeno sees right through him. "You nervous?"  

Haechan thinks about his response. Is he nervous? “More excited than nervous, I'd say.” Haechan looks up at him when he's met with silence. "What?" He asks confused when he notices his friend's amused expression.   

“Nothing, just trying to think when you turned into an absolute sap.” And he laughs loudly when Haechan hits him in the face with one of the cushions scattered on the sofa. “Relaaaaax you big baby, I'm just messing with you.” Jeno throws the cushion back at Haechan and he catches is with a grunt. “I actually think this is good. You haven't dated anyone half decent in a long time.”   

Haechan snorts, because Jeno's words hold nothing but the truth. “True.” He states with a purse of his lips.   

“If your first date is casual vibes, you should do something fancy for the second one.” Jeno says in a skeptical tone.  

“Since when are you a dating expert?”  

“Shut up, you've been dying to ask for advice and you know it.” He's right, but Haechan would never admit that. “It should also be on a Friday or Saturday so you don't have to worry about being hungover in class.” Jeno points a finger at Haechan. “Karaoke could be fun!”  

“Where are you taking Ningning?” Jeno's eyes widen at the question and Haechan chuckles triumphantly. "You ever gonna tell me about that or nah?"  

“Your new girlfriend can tell you all about it tomorrow.” Jeno crosses his arms over his chest after pulling the hood of his jumper over his head.   

“Yeah, we're gonna spend the entirety of our first date talking about your sexcapades.” Haechan responds sarcastically.   

“No sexcapades, she said she's not currently dating.” Jeno says quickly with a frown.   

“And that's a problem for you, because..?” Haechan gestures with his hand for Jeno to explain. “Is your ego hurt or something?”  

Jeno shrugs his shoulders like a toddler. “Just a bit disappointing, you know?”  

“Shit.” Haechan says with a tone of fascination. “So, you're into her then.”  

Jeno shrugs with a huff and Haechan almost feels bad.   

“Did you sleep with her or nah?”  

“Nah, just cuddled.” Jeno admits, voice laced with disappointment.   

“Jeno,” Haechan pinches the bridge of his nose to show exasperation. “You're an idiot.”  

“Wha- why?” Jeno's eyes widen at his friend's insult.   

“Are you being daft on purpose? She would've fucked you and chucked you out if she wasn't interested.” Haechan is putting the facts out on the table as if it's going to help Jeno realise what is happening, but to no avail. “She's clearly aware of your reputation.”   

Jeno perks up at that. "What about my reputation?" His eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.   

Haechan kisses his teeth. "You're a certified slut."  

“Yeah and? What am I meant to do?”  

“Well, if you want her, you're gonna have to work for it.” Haechan says like it's self-explanatory.  

"I don't chase." Jeno mumbles stubbornly.   

"No Ningning then." And Jeno scoffs at Haechan's patronising tone. "Sounds like you're in need of advice more than I am."  

_

You can't really wrap your head around the fact that you're currently walking to your favourite café in campus, only this time you're not meeting up with your two best friends, you’re meeting with Haechan instead. Fuck. You're meeting up with Haechan.  

You don't even know if you're supposed to call this a date. He said he wanted to hang out with you and that he can't wait to see you, but people say all sorts of things, and you don't want to get ahead of yourself. You wonder if he's nervous like you are, or if he sees this as a casual coffee break in between his routine. But then again, if it's just that, why ask you and not one of his friends? You told yourself this morning that you wouldn't overthink, but you're now realising that you're miserably failing. Ningning would not be proud.  

You check the time on your phone and that instant it buzzes in your hand. Your heart beats a little quicker.   

12:55 Hae☀️: what do you want?   

12:55 y/n🌻: in life or..?  

12:56 Hae☀️: lmao  

12:56 Hae☀️: to drink silly  

12:56 Hae☀️: we can talk about what you want in life when you get here  

12:57 y/n🌻: caramel iced latte pls and thank you :)  

12:57 y/n🌻: im 2 mins away btw  

12:57 Hae☀️: thought you didn't like sweet things   

12:58 Hae☀️: no rush, just ordering now  

12:58 y/n🌻: i like my coffee sweet  

12:58 y/n🌻: among other things  

12:59 Hae☀️: cheeky   

12:59 y/n🌻: im here   

13:00 y/n🌻: where you at?   

13:00 Hae☀️: you look cute   

13:00 Hae☀️: to your left   

And there he is, sitting at a table by the window, already looking at you, head tilted, eyes pretty, smile saccharine sweet. His phone is still in his hand, thumb hovering over the screen and you notice there's a new ring adorning the digit. His other hand raises and his fingers wiggle, playfully waving at you. You already feel flustered and you think that it should be illegal for a man to be this handsome.  

When you walk over, he stands up and casually lifts an arm for you to slot under. "Hey you." He says quietly and you smile. Your arms instinctively wrap around his middle, and your face buries in his shoulder, taking in his familiar scent. It immediately brings you comfort, your overthinking long forgotten. You feel his arms squeezing around your figure and he playfully rocks you from side to side. You giggle and pull back slightly to look at him.   

“Hey you.” You repeat his words back at him and his smile is nothing short of mesmerising. His lovely doe eyes hold warmth and tiny stars that you feel could burn you if you stare into them for too long, so you decide to look at the table instead. You spot your iced latte, placed opposite what you assume is an iced americano. “Thanks for getting my coffee, you didn't have to.”   

“I wanted to.” He states plainly and unwraps his arms from you, allowing you to sit down before taking his own seat opposite you. It almost feels strange sitting with him like this, seeing him in this light. Not in a lecture hall and not at a party surrounded by your friends. Just the two of you, on a Monday, sitting at your favourite café, in the middle of the day. It’s real. It’s mundane. “Are you hungry? We can get something to eat if you want.” He speaks so fast, one would think he’s trying to cover up nerves.   

You smile at his attentiveness and shake your head. “I’m good for now, thanks.”   

“Okay.” He doesn’t press and you can’t help but think he looks so boyfriend coded. His big forest green jumper makes him look extra cuddly and you want to bury your face in his neck again. “Heard you bumped into Jeno yesterday.” He says, filling the silence before taking a sip of his coffee.   

“Yeah, I interrupted his walk of shame.” You chuckle at the memory. “He looked quite embarrassed, bless him.” You twirl your straw, staring at the condensation dripping down your cup. “Didn’t realise he was that nosy though.” You say with a grin and your eyes move to look at Haechan who’s mirroring you.   

His lips curl into a smirk. “Why, did he ask about-” He pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words. “About Saturday night.” His eyebrow raises inquisitively.   

Your chin rests on your hand. “Mm-hm, apparently Jaemin messaged your group chat.”   

Haechan snorts and you assume he knows which message you’re referring to. “Yeah, if you found Jeno nosy, good luck tolerating Jaemin.”   

“I’m just hoping we didn’t scar him for life.”   

“I mean,” he shrugs, gently tapping his fingers on the table surface. “He didn’t actually see anything.” His tone suggestive, eyes watching you, trying to gauge a reaction. “Had he walked out a few minutes earlier-”   

“Shut up.” You warn and cover your eyes with both hands in embarrassment, smiling against your palms at the sound of his pretty laugh.  

“C’monnnn,” he reaches across the table and takes hold of your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face so he’s able to look at you properly, while holding your hands in his, in the most delicate way. You stubbornly look away, trying to hide the blush that has taken over your face. “Aww don't be embarrassed.” He coos and squeezes your wrists in his hands, his thumbs sneaking under your sweater paws, rubbing gently against your pulse points, causing goosebumps to raise on your arms. “Okay, I’m sorry, I won’t tease anymore today, I promise.” He says in a playful tone but you still don’t look at him and maintain the pout on your face. A quick kiss on the inside of your wrist earns him your attention and then another on the opposite one makes you break your resolve completely, your eyes now on his. “Yay, there she is.”   

“You’re annoying.” You huff and he chuckles again.   

“And you’re still blushing.”   

You retract your hand from his hold and attempt to flick at his forehead, but he grasps it again before you’re able to. He interlocks his fingers with yours and gives you a toothy grin. His perfect teeth showing and his eyes wrinkling at the corners. “How do you expect me to not feel embarrassed when you act like-” You stop yourself from saying what's on your mind and he perks up at your hesitation, eyebrows raised.   

“Like what?” He asks, his voice laced with intrigue.  

“The way you do.” Your gaze moves to your connected hands, taking in the way his fingers look slotted between yours. Perfect. Like they belong there.   

“You don’t like the way I act?” His bottom lip jutting out in a fake pout, gently stroking the back of your thumb with his own.   

“No, I do but-” You observe how his palm opens against your own, fingers extending and yours instinctively mirror the action, elbows pressed on the table and your heart flutters at how big his hand looks compared to yours.   

“But?” He’s also looking at your hands now and slots his fingers between yours again, his grip tight, his palm warm and you worry he can feel how clammy yours is.   

“You’re just too forward.”   

“Is that a bad thing?” His tone more serious now, his eyes observing you. “I told you; I never intended to be subtle with you.” His hold on your hand loosening. “But I can stop if you’re uncomfortable.”  

“No.” Your hand tightening its hold, quietly indicating you don’t want him to let go and he sports a cheeky smile, like he expected you to react that way. “I’m just not used to this.”   

His eyes are curious now. “Used to people being forward?” You nod at his question. He thinks about it for a moment. “You were pretty forward yourself the other night.” 

“That’s different.” You say calmly.   

“How come?”   

“Nights like that don’t happen all the time.” You explain with a shrug, without giving away too much. 

His expression softens, and his nods in understanding. “So, you knew you wanted me before the party then.” He says it like a statement but you know he’s asking as he watches you with expectant eyes. His hand leaves yours momentarily, dropping on the table, palm facing up, waiting for your own hand to drop back into his. And it does. You trace your fingertips from his wrist to the middle of his palm, drawing along the lines there. His own fingers raising slightly to tickle against your palm, tracing patterns and you feel giddy. He’s emitting this softness you’ve never encountered in a romantic partner before and you’re not sure if you can handle it. But you want to be able to.  

“I did, yeah.” You admit with a smile, eyes finding his wide ones. “Why are you so surprised?”   

“I just- I did too.” He bites the inside of his bottom lip in thought. “Just wasn’t sure how to approach you before.” Your own surprise evident. “Why are you so surprised?” He mimics your question with a playful tone.  

“Since when?” You ask, wanting to know more.  

He hums skeptically, and you feel his knee bumping into yours under the small table, “I mean, I’ve always been intrigued.” He moves again and you feel both his knees rubbing against yours now. “But I knew I was into you after we spoke at that party in June.” Both your knees are trapped between his now and you can’t help but feel flustered, your fingers limp in his palm while his index is still tracing the inside of your wrist. It slightly tickles but it’s welcome. “You?”   

You could lie and say it was the same for you. That you realised you were interested when you finally spoke for the first time. But you don’t really want to, and you don’t see the point. “I think- I can’t really place it, but I was definitely interested before June.” You expect him to tease, but he just nods in understanding, gesturing you to continue. “And I could tell you were kind of flirting, when we briefly spoke last week, so, I thought Chenle's party was the perfect time to act on it.”   

“So, you’ve had a crush on me?” He smirks and his knees squeeze yours between them, finally teasing you. "Cute.” He says under his breath, eyes move to your lips for a second and then up to your eyes again. “You should’ve said something sooner.” He raises his drink and his lips wrap around the straw and you can’t help but look, remembering what they felt like on yours, on your skin, what they looked like wrapped around his fingers when he wanted a taste of you.   

“I didn’t think you would’ve reciprocated.” You say bashfully and he looks at you, like he finds your words absurd.  

He puts his drink down again. “I'd be clinically insane.”   

His words emit a small laugh from you. "Well, I'm glad you're somewhat sane."  

"Do you wanna go for a walk?" The question unexpected and your eyebrows raise in surprise. "Sun's out again." He points his chin towards the window and you turn your head to look outside. The autumn leaves are still falling but he's right. The sun is out for the first time in a few days. "Promise I'll have you back by three." He says in a playful tone and you look back at him, pretending to consider his suggestion, even though, you know you won’t decline.

_ 

Haechan isn't really a big fan of autumn. He doesn't hate it, but he certainly likes summertime the most. He likes being able to walk down the beach with no layers on and no worry that it'll get cold late at night. He likes the way the sun feels on his skin and he definitely prefers the way he looks when he's sun kissed. He finds that everyone looks good in the sun.  

He's always associated the idea of falling in love with a nice refreshing summer breeze; not necessary, because he's content in the heat, but definitely not unwanted.   

The thought of summer always makes him miss home and look forward to the next time he's able to visit. If he's completely honest, Haechan always misses home a little bit, it's always occupying the back of his mind. The city; as fun as it is living here, has always felt too different. Too chaotic. Now that you're walking next to him though, he's not missing anything and he thinks it's the first time since he moved here, that he feels absolutely and utterly content. At peace even. Even in the chilly autumn air as you two walk through the park near your campus, surrounded by brown leaf covered trees.   

"What's your favourite time of the year?" He can't help but ask the question when it pops into his head.   

"Hmm I think this one." You lift a finger, gesturing to your surroundings and you pause for a moment skeptically. "I think it’s mostly because I prefer autumn fashion." He chuckles at your reasoning. "Hey, don't laugh," You protest. "I'd like summer more if I could lounge by a pool in a bikini whenever I wanted." You inhale deeply, your eyes briefly closing and he can tell you're enjoying the autumn air. "Autumn is just easier, plus, I love the smell of rain." You turn to look at him before looking ahead of you again. "What's yours? You give off major summer vibes."  

He exhales a laugh through his nose. "Really? What gave it away?" He looks at your side profile as he waits for a response. He thinks you look so pretty in this gloomy setting and wonders if you’d look even prettier during his favourite season.   

"Dunno." You seem to be in deep thought, your lips pursing and your eyes narrowing as you inspect his face carefully. "Maybe your tan?" And he mimics your expression, scrunching his nose too and you gently elbow him. "Did I get it right?" You ask hopefully.  

"You sure did." He confirms, nodding proudly and a cheeky smile makes its way to your lips.   

"Why summer then?" You ask with a curious lilt in your tone.   

"I guess I associate summer with my childhood." He explains with a fond smile. "It reminds me of being-"  

"Carefree?" You finish his sentence and he smiles, nodding slowly in agreement. "That makes sense." You validate his thought process in the sweetest voice and he can't help but feel a certain way that leads him to slip his hand into yours. He senses your hesitation and worries he's overstepped a boundary but instantly relaxes when he feels your fingers take their place between his. You're not looking at him, but he can sense you trying to conceal your flustered state by nonchalantly keeping your eyes on the pavement.

He suddenly remembers you've got a class to attend at 3pm and slips his phone out of his back pocket to check the time. "It's half two, we should probably start heading back." He reminds you, not wanting to be the reason you mess up your schedule for the day.   

"Oh shit." Your eyes slightly widen at the realisation. "That was quick." You admit absentmindedly and he laughs softly.   

"Hmmmm what can I say, time flies when you're with me." He says with a suggestive pointed grin.   

"Didn't realise you were this deluded." You scoff, eyes rolling playfully. 

"Hey now." He warns with a nudge against your shoulder and can't hide the amused grin on his face when you giggle. "You had fun, admit it."  

"Mmmmaybe." You say with a cheeky smile, and he feels his pulse increasing. His chest constricts inevitably at how cute and soft you look. Your chin brushing your shoulder as you turn your head to look at him, batting your lashes seductively. He wonders if you know the effect you have on him.   

“You act all brave now, but -” He stops walking, making you halt, and you turn to look at him. “I bet I could easily make you skip class, if I really wanted to.” He says suggestively, a cocky eyebrow raising when he takes in your surprised expression. He pulls you closer, pulling lightly at your hand that's still in his and you stumble, putting a hand on his chest to regain your balance. You look up at him, and he thinks 'there it is', there's that not-so-innocent look from Saturday night. You don't shy away or get flustered this time, you stand your ground, and he suddenly wants to ruin you. But he knows this is not the time and place and he curses internally for choosing to go on a stupid coffee date. He's definitely taking you out somewhere more intimate and romantic next time, like Jeno suggested.   

"And how exactly would you do that?" You ask, testing his resolve, which, apparently, runs very thin when it comes to you.   

He leans down so his lips are by your ear, the hand that's not holding yours, taking purchase on your waist. "I'd show you but you'd probably get all shy on me." He murmurs and relishes in the way your hand tightens its hold on the fabric of his jumper. He feels your breathing quicken and can't help but laugh at your reaction.   

He moves to pull away and the second his eyes land on yours, your hand grabs the back of his neck and your lips crash on his. His breath hitches and his eyes widen at the impact, before he relaxes against you and kisses you back. He relishes in the feel of your soft lips sliding against his, and the warmth your body radiates when he pulls you closer with his arm around your waist and when he feels you sigh, body pliantly slotting into his, he wonders if someone if playing a prank on him, because there’s no way you’re this perfect for him. You wrap both your arms around his neck securely and he moves a hand to your hip, gently squeezing, his fingers dangerously close to your ass. You whimper when his tongue makes contact with your bottom lip and he feels you tilt your head to the side silently asking him to deepen the kiss, but he decides that the next time he has a full on make out session with you is going to be somewhere private. He bites your bottom lip lightly and gives you a quick peck before breaking the kiss completely and you whine at the sudden loss of contact, making him laugh. The hand on your hip sneakily slides itself into your back pocket, giving your bum a playful squeeze, before letting it rest there lazily, simply because he can't help himself. "You're trouble, Y/N." He mumbles against your lips.  

Your eyes open at that, finding his and your hand caresses the back of his neck while you suck your bottom lip into your mouth and his jeans start to feel constricting at the thought of you doing that so you can taste him again, now that he's no longer kissing you. "I'm trouble?" You ask in disbelief.

"You kissed me." He states in an accusatory tone as if he wouldn't have done it himself anyway.  

"I know." You whisper, your eyes dropping to his lips again. "I wanted to." You mumble and your tone makes his brain overflow with thoughts that revolve around you and his bed, because it doesn't matter that it's Monday afternoon and you're walking around the park. In Haechan’s head, nothing matters in this moment other than the fact that he desperately wants you in ways he hasn’t wanted anyone before and that scares him. Not because he doesn’t want to. But simply because he does. Haechan wants to want you.

_ 

"And with five minutes to spare." Haechan says with a proud smile when you reach the entrance of the building your class is in, still hand in hand and you can't help but smile back.   

“You know you're definitely gonna be late, right?” You say in a scolding tone and he scoffs rolling his eyes.  

“And whose fault is that?” He says playfully, pulling you closer.   

“You should've said you were meeting Jaemin at three, how am I supposed to- mmmf.” He interrupts you with a kiss against your lips, cupping your face in his hands. He pulls away quicker than you'd prefer but you still can't help the surprised laugh that escapes you.   

"I know I’ll see you on Thursday, but can I take you out Friday night?" He asks, eyes wide and hopeful and you smile.   

"You can." You say with a dreamy tone, taking in his pretty brown eyes and the way his smile widens when you accept to go on a second date with him.   

"Good." He kisses you chastely again and rubs his nose against yours before dropping a wet smooch on your cheek, laughing at your reaction.  

"Yah!" You complain cringing at the wet sensation against your skin. "Ewww, you slobbered on meeee." You whine, wiping the wetness off your face with the back of your hand, your nose scrunching in fake disgust but your heart flutters at the sound of his laugh. "Fucking weirdo." You huff, torn between laughter and exasperation.  

"Be a good girl and get to class." He turns you around, putting his hands on your shoulders and guiding you towards the entrance of the building, arms hugging you from behind and the butterflies in your stomach go ballistic. "Also, sit with me on Thursday." He whispers in your ear and you shiver at the feeling of his warm breath on your neck. You turn your head sideways to look at his face and you can't stop your lips from curling into a grin.   

"Be a good boy and don't tell me what to do." You whisper against his jaw, where you press a quick kiss that surprises him, his arms loosening around your shoulders in shock and you take the opportunity to turn around and loosely wrap your arms around his waist. You raise on your tippy toes so you can bring your lips to his ear. “I’ll see you soon, Lee Haechan.” You say with a low tone and to anyone else it might seem like you're just hugging, but you can feel his chest moving shallowly against your own when you give him another gentle kiss, on the cheek this time.  

"What the f-" You walk away with a sweet smile, before he can react or finish his sentence and you couldn't be more satisfied with yourself. You know he's still standing there, looking at you while you walk away from him and you smile to yourself.   

When you take your usual seat next to Chenle, in the back of the big lecture hall, he looks at you with a smirk, arms crossed over his chest. "So? How was it?" He asks and a giggle escapes him when you sigh with a dreamy smile on your face. "That good?"   

“You have no idea.” You feel you phone buzz in your pocket and you already have an idea what to expect.   

15:01 Hae☀️: that was fucked up...  

15:01 Hae☀️️: you're in for a treat next time i see you

_

Thursday rolls around slower than normal this week and you know why it feels that way. You can’t wait to see him.   

It’s the first time you’re running late to class though, and you’re cursing yourself for deciding to take a nap earlier. The bus that would have gotten you there on time is long gone, so your only option was to walk and be ten minutes late. You know it’s not the end of the world, students run late all the time, and it’s not like you’re anal about punctuality. It’s just that you hate being the centre of attention.   

And when you walk in the lecture hall, everything pans out exactly how you had predicted; some people turn their heads to look when you enter the hall as quietly as possible and some couldn’t care less. When you skip past your usual row of seats though, taking a seat two rows ahead instead, next to the handsome boy who’s been lately occupying your thoughts nonstop, more people’s eyes drift to your direction and you’re thankful to your professor, who continues speaking, without batting an eyelid at your tardiness.   

“You okay? I texted you.” Haechan leans into whisper in your ear, voice as quiet as possible. An arm extends behind you, resting on the back of your seat casually and you feel the warmth radiating on your shoulder blades, through the material of your top.   

You look at him for a moment before starting to take out your notes and iPad. “I know, I took a nap and overslept.” You whisper back maintaining the decibels of your voice as low as possible and you can tell he’s holding back a laugh.   

You look past him and you see Jaemin and Jeno both looking at you and waving. You mouth ‘hi’ to both of them offering a smile and your eyes land on Haechan again who’s smiling at you like he’s up to something. He relaxes in his seat, comfortably sinking into it while spreading his legs, his knee now touching yours and you know what he’s trying to do.  

You also lean back and relax in your seat, pretending to finally pay attention to whatever example is being demonstrated on the board. Your knee playfully nudges his.

“Stop manspreading.” Your eyes still on the board but your attention on him.   

“I’d say sorry, but it was intentional.” He states and you hold in your exasperation as well as your laugh. Your amused expression falters when he reaches to take your hand in his and rests them on his thigh. He’s too casual for your liking and too soft for your poor heart.   

When he said that you’re in for a treat he really did mean it.  

He walks you home that day.   

-

“What the actual fuck?” Your voice is high-pitched; eyes so wide, they resemble a cartoon’s.   

“What?” He laughs at your comical expression and places the mic down on the table in the centre of the noraebang room.  

“You made me go first so you could embarrass me!” You loudly accuse with your finger pointing at him.   

“You weren’t bad!” He can’t help the laughter that won’t stop. You’re frowning still and you look so adorable and believably annoyed. He knows it’s all pretend though.   

“You were so good though.” Your frown slowly turns into a pout. “And it was all in Japanese.” Your wide eyes looking up at him from when you’re still sat cross legged on the leather sofa seat. He feels weak. You make him feel weak.   

“I took singing lessons when I was younger.” He explains with a smile. “And that’s my favourite song so I’ve had practice.” He approaches slowly and takes a seat next to you, huffing and spreading his legs slightly to get comfortable while his head rests on the back of the sofa. He’s the one looking up at you now. You look so pretty in the purple and blue hues that light up the room. He definitely made the right choice bringing you here after dinner. He wanted to keep your second date PG but the way you’re looking at him right now makes him contemplate.   

“Ah right. He’s an artist.” A teasing smile takes over your face as you hold his gaze. He groans and you giggle when his hands come up to cover his face in embarrassment. He feels you shift next to him and when he looks at you through the gaps of his fingers you’ve turned your body towards him, still crossing your legs. “You have a pretty voice, Lee Haechan.”   

He knows he’s blushing, but he snorts, trying to feign nonchalance. “Thanks.” his hands drop and rest on his thighs.   

“Did you bring me here to show off then?” Your tone still ever so teasing.  

“No, but I was hoping to impress you maybe.” He admits without realising. Your effect on him frustrates him.   

“By serenading me in a language I can’t understand?” Your smile is so sweet, tooth ache inducing. So sweet it’s contagious. You move a little closer and he can smell your sweet perfume. His eyes drop to your exposed neck and then to the collarbones he’s dying to press soft kisses on. “Consider me impressed.” You say and his eyes come back up to your face. You seem to be fighting your smile now and he’s obsessed with the fact that you don’t want to give away how affected you also are by him.   

“What’s your favourite song?” He asks in a low voice, sitting up a bit and extending an arm along the back of the sofa. Your eyes instantly drop there, and your hand comes up to trace a vein absentmindedly. He manages to contain the shiver that creeps up on him, but he can’t control the goosebumps raising on his skin.   

“Japanese Denim by Daniel Caesar.” You respond, copying his low tone. Your eyes not leaving your fingers gingerly trailing up and down his skin. “You know it?” you look at him in question.   

Haechan is thankful he does. “Myyy blueee jeaaansss.” He sings the start of the chorus playfully and you giggle, pushing his shoulder lightly.   

“Okay r&b king.” You joke with a laugh. He pokes your side and you flinch with a half whine half giggle. He can’t help but smile at the sound.   

“I just think his lyrics are like poetry, you know?” You shrug, explaining why you see the appeal. Your hand is now resting in his arm, no longer tracing and he enjoys the weight of it. The warmth. He wants to reach out and touch you too, but he doesn’t move. The moment feels too precious to ruin.   

“They really are.” He agrees with a small nod. He likes to think that maybe he’ll be able to write lyrics like those one day, but he doesn’t say it. He doesn’t want to talk about himself now. He’s too busy admiring you. “You’re so pretty.” He says softly and he doesn’t even register the words leaving his mouth until he gets the cutest reaction from you. You look away, smiling big and your hands come up to press against your cheeks, attempting to cover what he assumes is a blush. A soft chuckle escapes him and he reaches up with both hands to remove yours from your face. “Blush away, no need to hide.” He teases you. He finds that he’s good at it. He wonders if it’s because you generally get flustered so easily or if it’s just the effect he has on you. He hopes it’s the latter.   

When your hands aren’t in the way, he taps a finger under your chin gently encouraging you to turn your head so he can look at you again. He then instinctively moves closer, craving to feel your warmth better and when your eyes find his again, his chest constricts. He sometimes doesn’t understand how it’s possible that he’s come to feel so attached to you in such a short amount of time, how he so easily gravitates towards you. But then you look at him and he understands. You speak and he understands. You laugh and he understands. You touch him and he understands. It almost feels foreign but never unwelcome. Never forced. And that scares him.   

Haechan trails his fingers from your chin down to your collarbone, tracing softly and he slowly moves the fallen strands of hair behind your shoulder. He feels your gasp when he leans forward to leave a kiss on the curve of it. Then a little lower. And a little lower until his nose nuzzles against the dip of your collarbone. Another kiss. And another. This time his tongue makes contact first, tasting the skin, before his lips pucker on the sensitive surface again. Your breathing has turned shallow and he smiles at the sight of your chest moving up and down. Your fingers thread into his hair, slightly pulling and he sighs against your wet skin. You catch him off guard when your other hand pushes him by the shoulder and he’s about to apologise for crossing a line but then you quickly straddle him and his mind goes blank. This is definitely not PG.   

“Someone could see us, you know.” You whisper against his lips and he almost moans. The hand in his hair pulls again and his head drops against the back of the seat pliantly, eyes closing at the feeling of your lips on his jawline. You scatter small kisses until you reach his ear and lightly bite on his lobe, his breathing quickens and the moan he’s been holding in eventually escapes at your next words. “Bet that turns you on though.” His hands instantly come up to hold onto something, anything. One grabs onto your waist, the other lands on your thigh, just below the hem of your skirt. “Talk to me.” You whisper sweetly in his ear before starting to trail kisses down the column of neck. The further down you travel, the wetter they get and he feels himself getting hard, his hips slightly raising to get some friction, but you don’t budge. “Behave.” You laugh against his neck in a hot puff of air and his voice comes out in a soft whine.   

“Baby,” he breathes out weakly and you coo softly against his neck while gingerly sucking on the delicate flesh. He feels you place a hand on his chest, above where his heart is beating uncontrollably and he knows you can feel it too, your thumb stroking soothingly to comfort him. “Wanna kiss you.” He pleads pathetically and he feels like he might come in his pants when you suddenly grind your hips down. His breath catches in his throat and he trails a hand up your back, between your shoulder blades, to wrap around the base of your neck, pressing you down as he thrusts up into you. He smiles stupidly when you bring up your face, unburying from his neck, to look at him with wide eyes. He thinks you might scold him but instead you just wrap a hand around his neck, pressing your fingers against his pulse points in a possessive manner and he groans. His eyes shut at the dizzying sensation and when he feels your lips press on his, he relishes. His head tilts automatically to deepen the kiss and he sighs into your mouth when your tongue finds its way in. It’s intoxicating and he swears he feels high. Your hand around his neck definitely playing a part but it’s mostly your taste and the way you kiss him exactly how he likes to be kissed. Wet and filthy but still slow, sucking on his tongue to tease him. He feels his heartbeat going wild without permission when you grind down again, just the right way, the perfect amount of pressure to drive him insane.  

His hands trail down to messily bunch up the fabric of your corduroy skirt so he can squeeze the flesh of your ass in his palms, fingers digging into the skin. He’s not gentle with you this time but your moans against his lips encourage him not to hold back.

You’re now grinding down with determined force and he moans into your mouth when his fully hard dick slots between your pussy lips, the only thing separating you, his layers and your underwear. He matches your pace, hips coming up when yours drop down and he realises that you’re no longer teasing him. “Think you can cum like this?” You ask against his lips, the scratch in your voice driving him insane, breathing ragged, hips quickening their eager ministrations. He nods, staring into your eyes. “You want to?” You ask again, keeping your eyes on his as your arms wrap around his shoulders to gain more support and he responds with another nod and a shaky breath. His head dips forward, eyes dropping down to where you’re connected and his hand pushes your skirt up even further, to get a better look. He groans at the sight. Your panties almost trapped between your folds, your pussy leaving a trail of wetness on the front of his jeans whenever you drag your body back and he feels himself twitch in his pants. It’s sinful. It’s perfect. You're perfect.  

“Fuck, hang on.” He whispers suddenly, arm wrapping around your middle to halt your movements and he quickly unbuttons his jeans with one hand. His hips raise a little bit as he clumsily pushes the fabric down, leaving his boxers still on. “Okay.” He exhales and his hands find your hips again, guiding you to resume your work. The friction so much better now that he can properly feel your wetness seeping through the cotton and he loves that he can see the way his fat cock drags between your lace clad pussy lips.

Your whining doesn’t go unnoticed, and he looks up at your face only to find you also looking down dazedly. He relishes in the idea that you can get as dirty as he can and he takes in the sight of you now; lips parted, gasping audibly, your nipples hard and visible through your thin blouse and he’s suspecting that you’ve foregone wearing a bra. 

His hands drag upwards, leaving your hips, trusting you to keep grinding down with no guidance and when he squeezes the flesh of your breasts through the fabric, his suspicions are confirmed. You moan when his thumbs rub on your already sensitive nipples, leaning into his touch and he repeats the action, enjoying the desperate little sounds you let out.

“I’m close.” He announces in a gasp, his balls feel heavy and he knows he’s leaking precum, adding to the wet patch you’ve created on the front of his boxers.   

“Yeah?” Your eyes search his, hands cupping his face and kissing him again, soft this time. “You gonna cum for me, pretty boy?” He feels his eyes roll back at your words and all he can do is nod again. He anchors himself by squeezing your ass in his hands again and he loves the whimpers you let out when his hands get a little rougher, making the flesh ripple. He decides to take matters into his own hands when he feels your thighs shaking around his hips, suspecting the soreness in your muscles and his hold on you gives you no option but to quicken the pace

“Fuck, you feel so fuckin good, baby, please don’t stop.” He exasperatedly begs, his breath shaky and he feels like he’s losing it. Pathetic.   

“Yes, god, m’cumming.” His voice comes out ruined, words muffled against your lips, vision blurring and his jaw drops when he reaches his peak, soaking his boxers like a teenage boy. Your hands slide into his hair when he starts shaking and he basks in the comforting touch. His head drops back on the seat again and he feels dizzy, your hips are still moving, dragging out his high and when it gets too much, he gently taps his fingers on your ass cheek, smiling dumbly. “Mmh, just give me a second.” He sighs as you take a seat, directly on his cock, softly cooing at him and kissing his cheek as you push his fringe back, revealing his damp forehead and he purrs at the gentleness.

“Good?” You ask sweetly and he almost scoffs, because there’s no way you don’t know you’ve just ruined him when he’s pathetically drenched his underwear like a horny teenage boy.

“Intense.” He hums and he feels himself shiver when you let out a breathy laugh against his skin, nuzzling into his temple. He slowly turns his head and catches your lips in a slow kiss. “Wanna make you feel good too.” He murmurs in the kiss and when he notices the conflicted expression on your face, he doubles down. “I’ll be quick.”

“Confident?” You tease with a smile that he can’t help but return. Your teeth sink on your bottom lip when he cups your pussy and he moans at the feeling of soaked lace.   

“Not like I haven’t done it before.” He teases back and he laughs when you swat at his chest. “Please?” He tries again, tone needy this time and he uses his puppy eyes, smiling when he breaks through your resolve. The second you nod, he wraps an arm around you securely and his other hand grabs at the fleshy bit where your ass meets your thigh. “Lie down for me.” He whispers and helps maneuver you onto your back swiftly.

He can’t help but smirk when your legs instinctively part for him to slot in between, and he does exactly that, coming to position himself above you, supporting his weight on one arm by the side of your head. His lips find yours again, in a hungry kiss and this time it’s his tongue that dominates yours, sliding into your mouth, tasting you just like you did to him earlier. He loves the sigh you let out through your nose when his hand slips into your underwear slowly, sliding his middle finger between your folds but what he loves the most is how wet you are.   

“Can I use my mouth?” He questions mid kiss and you must like the sound of that, because he feels you grind against his palm.   

“You can do anything you want, just no sex.” You say shyly. “Not here.”

“Told you, baby,” He gives your lips another peck before kissing down your neck, giving your tit a tentative squeeze as he moves downwards. “Wanna do that in my bed first.” Your moan at the promise brings a smile to his face as his hands slip into the top of your panties and drag them down your legs hastily, feeling the goosebumps on your skin. He stuffs the flimsy material into his back pocket, earning a questioning look from you and he grins. “Don’t worry, you’ll get them back.” He starts kissing from the inside of your knee to your inner thigh, wet and full of tongue.   

“Stop teasing.” You whine, raising your hips impatiently when he reaches closer to where you want him. And he chuckles against your folds, watching as your legs spread even more for him.   

His head rests on your inner thigh, comfortably and he looks up at your face, gauging your reaction. “What do you say?”   

“Please.” You whisper and he feels his dick harden again at your submissive tone.   

“Good girl.” He mutters and his hands slide up your inner thighs, thumbs pulling your pussy lips apart, revealing your cute swollen nub, all pretty and in need of attention. He can see you’re clenching around nothing, clear pearls of slick dripping from the tiny hole that he can’t wait to lap up. 

You’re more than wet enough but Haechan doesn’t think twice before letting a fat glob of spit slowly drip from his mouth and he feels his dick twitch at the sight. You moan when you feel the extra wetness land on your cunt and he does it again, watching his spit drip down to your asshole, making a mess of you. Nothing but sensual. “Yeah? You like it messy?” He breathes out in admiration and he doesn’t even need an answer, he knows you do.

His hand comes up again, fingers spreading the mixed wetness through your folds. His middle and ring fingers create a v shape around your clit, isolating the nub between them and the tip of his tongue comes out to make contact, flicking gently up and down. You both moan in unison, your hands burying in his hair to keep him where you need him and he loves how ruined you already sound, how your legs part completely, how addictive you taste on his tongue. And he loves that he can’t get enough of you.

“Mmh, fuck.” You moan when his arm wraps around your thigh, bringing his hand to separate your folds from the top, palm pressing against your pubic bone, fingers delicately pulling the hood of your clit up, revealing more of the little nub. His flat tongue licks from your hole to your clit and he repeats the action when he feels your fingers pull at his hair harder. The pink muscle then settles back to delivering quick flicks on your nub, the direct contact making you squeal and he smiles at the adorable sound. “Yes, like that.” You encourage him, the praise making his chest swell with pride. His other hand joins and his middle finger teases your leaking entrance, circling before slowly sliding in until it’s fully buried inside, your soaked walls making the glide so easy, that he’s certain one digit won’t be enough.

When his jaw gets tired, he switches to sucking harshly on your clit, making you groan and he slowly starts to move his finger in and out, curling up slightly, following the curve of your pussy. He knows you want more, your hole dripping even more slick around his finger, so he slows down as he adds a second one. You sigh when you feel the extra stretch and he knows he’s got you where he wants you when you start clenching.   

“Fuck, baby, you’re creaming.” He points out in disbelief when he sees the white substance coating his digits every time they pull out of you and you whine in embarrassment. “I swear to god, I’m gonna fuck you stupid one day.” He promises against your cunt and goes back to sucking, more determined this time. His fingers start pumping quicker into you, the squelching sounds nothing but melodic in his ears and your tight walls nothing but heaven around his fingers. Your whines get louder when his speed increases and he knows he’s hitting your sweet spot every time he thrusts in, the pads of his fingers dragging against your walls. “Right there, hm?” His pace quickens even more and he looks up when he feels your eyes on him. You’re on your elbows now, jaw agape, eyes on his lips, watching him ruin you and his tongue comes out to flick quickly from side to side, his head moving with it, making a spectacle without breaking eye contact.   

“I’m gonna cum.” You warn in a whisper, burying a hand in his hair again and your elbows give out, allowing your body to drop back down. He hums against your cunt, letting you know he’s got you and he feels your legs trembling around his head. “Fuck, yes yes yes.” Your voice sounds broken, your walls are kneading his fingers and he has to put extra effort into sliding in and out due to the restricting tightness.

He doesn’t stop though, even when he knows you’re coming down from your high, he keeps pushing your boundaries. He wants more. “Haechan!” You squeal when he suckles on your clit again and he laughs darkly at the cute sound. Your hand tries to push him away, legs attempting to close around his head but he’s not quite done yet, his hold around your thigh tight enough to keep you open for him.   

He pulls his fingers out slowly and you whine. “Sorry, pretty.” He whispers mockingly against your clit before dipping down to lick at your pulsing entrance, smiling at the mewl you let out. He licks from bottom to top again, gently flicking at your clit when he comes up and he knows it’s too much when your body convulses and you sound like you’re crying. You’re not pushing him away though, which gives him hope. He opts to circling instead of flicking, tongue relaxed now; languid and he feels your legs spread again. “Yeah? Want more gentle?” He coos as his eyes look up and he can see your perky tits moving up and down with your breathing. He trails a hand up your body, squeezing greedily around the flesh and he moans at the feeling of your stiff nipple against his palm.   

“I’m too sensitive.” You sigh and bring a hand above his, squeezing around your own tit with him as you raise on your elbows again. 

“You can give me one more, though, right?” His eyes staring into yours, hopeful.   

“I think so.” You nod tiredly, eyebrows furrowing slightly at the overstimulation, breathing coming out harsh. “I’m still turned on.” You admit shyly, biting down on your bottom lip as you push his fringe away from his damp forehead.   

“Such a good girl.” He says dreamily and his tongue gently circles your clit again, wet hand pressing against the back of your thigh to keep you spread out for him.   

Only after you come again on his tongue, does he stop, moving to kiss on your inner thigh, sucking on the supple skin there, leaving a wet patch behind along with a subtle mark. He leans over you again, taking in the sight under him. Your breathing slowing down as you look up at him, your hair fanned around you and your eyes blinking slowly. You look beautifully and utterly fucked out and so angelic. His heart swells when you reach up, pulling him close to you and he gives in right away, dropping down, resting his weight on you carefully. He kisses you slowly, pushing his tongue past your parted lips, moaning with you, knowing you can taste yourself.   

“You’re hard again.” You whisper against his lips and he laughs, because of course he is.   

“You are not making me cum in my pants again.” He scolds and kisses softly on your cheek as you snort a laugh, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding him close.   

“Okay, I won’t.” You say with a smile, leaning in to kiss him again. He lets you.   

—

“Do you guys have any, like, weird fetishes?” Jaemin asks randomly, interrupting your conversation with Ningning and almost causing you to choke on a fry.   

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Haechan pipes up next to you, genuine concern laced in his tone, his hand stroking your back whilst you cough.   

“Yeah, changing the subject from ‘I’m broke’, to that, is slightly worrying to say the least.” Ningning agrees but that doesn’t stop her from laughing. “Look, even Jeno is speechless.” She points at Jeno’s shocked expression and he snaps out of it, taking a sip from his coffee.   

“I was just curious.” Jaemin shrugs as he explains. “I’ve been texting this girl and the other night it turned into sexting and she asked me if I’d be down to piss on her?”   

“Oh wow,” Ningning is suddenly interested. “What did you say?” She asks and he eyes widen as she awaits his response. All eyes around the table are on Jaemin now and he’s clearly thrown off, struggling to find the right words.   

“Wellllll-“   

“Oh my god!” Renjun exclaims and covers his mouth with both hands. “Please tell me you didn’t actually do it.”  

“No, of course not.” Jaemin defends himself quickly. “I haven’t even slept with her.” He steals a fry from your plate. “Yet.” He concludes with a smug smile.   

“Okay, but, let’s say you do sleep with her and she asks you to piss on her.” Haechan interferes. “Would you?” He asks with an amused expression and Jaemin seems to be in deep thought.   

“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it but I’m pretty sure I’d get stage fright.” Says casually and stuffs a few more fries in his mouth. “Also, I don’t think I can pee when I’m hard.”   

”Yeah, I was thinking that.” Jeno says with narrowed eyes. “It’s also a bit weird if you don’t know them that well or if it’s just a one-time thing, no?” He looks around, asking everyone.  

“Yeah, true.” Renjun agrees. “Not that I’ve done it before, but, surely you do those kinds of things with someone you’re in a relationship with or at least someone you’ve been seeing and agreed to experiment with.” He looks at Jaemin. “But then again, you’re a different kind of breed.” Everyone laughs at that.   

“That I am my friend.” Jaemin laughs darkly and leans over to kiss Renjun on the cheek. The latter pushes him away by shoving a hand against his face with a disgusted expression and you snort at the scene.   

“The question is, where did you even meet this girl?” You ask with a wiggle of your eyebrows, not because you care, but because you find it amusing when Jaemin gets flustered.   

His eyes meet yours now and he seems taken aback before he puts on his cheeky grin again. “Oh, I have a better question, miss thing.” His voice laced with nothing but mischief and you’re now scared. “Would you let Haechan piss on you if he asked?” There it is.   

“And I ask again.” Haechan saves you momentarily. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice is calm but there’s definitely an edge to it, a warning even. He doesn’t move from his position next to you. An arm lazily resting on the back of your chair, the warmth certainly comforting on your shoulders. You instinctively lean into him, resting a hand on his thigh and his knuckles rub against your arm soothingly. Your eyes meet Ningning’s who’s watching the whole interaction smiling and you try to contain your own smile.   

“What? It’s a good question, no?” Jaemin says with a shrug and you roll your eyes.   

“Jaemin, I don’t know about you, but I don’t really talk about golden showers at least until after the fifth date.” You say sarcastically and Jeno snorts trying to hold in a laugh. “And that’s besides the point. You asked if we have any fetishes so I think we should all share one.”   

Jaemin smirks and points a finger at you playfully. “I knew you could match my freak.” He says, giggling like a schoolgirl and Haechan’s arm around your shoulders tightens, the act unnoticeable to everyone else but not to you. Your fingers resting on his thigh, tense slightly trying to get his attention as you turn to look at his face and you can’t help but notice the frown on his face while he’s looking at Jaemin. He’s jealous and it’s obvious and you can’t help the warm fuzzy feeling spreading in your belly. When he looks down at you, his expression softens and you feel his arm relax around you. You give him a smile, which he instantly returns. You’re definitely bringing this up later.

“Take your freak elsewhere please.” Renjun says with sass, earning a few laughs around the table.   

“Ugh fine, I’ll start.” Ningning says and all eyes snap towards her. “I’m not opposed to some toe sucking. There you go. Thank you. Let’s move on.” Your laugh is loud and you wish Chenle didn’t have basketball training so he could witness this shit show.   

”Alright, I like sucking on toes.” Jeno confesses and you bury your face in your hand leaning into Haechan’s shoulder to conceal your laugh. You feel him chuckle in your hair as he wraps his arm around you properly and you love the heat radiating off him so much that you wish you could stay there for the rest of the day.   

“Next!” Ningning says exasperatedly, sending Jeno daggers across the table. It wasn’t even his turn but you respect his efforts. Not a lot of men have managed to get Ningning this flustered before and it actually makes you wonder if any toe sucking took place that night they supposedly only cuddled. You make a mental note that this might also be worth bringing up earlier.  

It’s Renjun’s turn and he seems to be in deep thought. “I honestly can’t think of anything, I think I’m pretty vanilla.”   

“Surely there’s something, it doesn’t have to be hardcore.” Haechan butts in. 

“I guess choking?” Renjun’s ears have turned red now and you almost feel bad, because out of everyone around this table, he’s the one that deserves to be embarrassed the least.   

“Ooooh erotic asphyxiation!” Jaemin says feigning a seductive tone. “Okay, so, I may or may not like butt stuff.”   

Everyone’s eyes widen at the confession.   

“As in your butt or the other person’s?” Jeno asks curiously. Jaemin only responds by wiggling his eyebrows and Jeno gasps dramatically. 

“As in you’ve had a finger up y-“   

“Moving on!” Jaemin exclaims loudly, interruptinh Ningning. "Your turn, lover boy." He gestures at Haechan to continue as Jeno’s mouth is still open in shock.   

“Hmm.’ Haechan ponders, his fingers tapping on your shoulder absentmindedly as he thinks. For some reason, even though it’s not your turn to answer, you feel exposed, as though all your friends are watching you both, trying to gauge your reaction at his response. You try to maintain as neutral an expression as possible and you hope he says something you might have already guessed by the times you’ve been intimidate with him. “Maybe the risk of getting caught.” He finally admits and you’re definitely not shocked.   

“That’s boring, everyone likes that.” Jaemin complains.  

“Speak for yourself, sicko.” Renjun defends. “Some of us like total privacy.”   

“Aww you really are vanilla.” Ningning pouts cutely and Renjun scoffs.    

“Y/N?” Renjun says to divert the attention from him and you fear your ears might be as red as his now. Everyone is watching you, including Haechan and you’re starting to regret suggesting this in the first place.   

“Just say it, no one is going to judge.” Jeno encourages and you want to bury your face in Haechan’s shoulder again.   

“Maybe Haechan should try and guess.” Renjun suggests and now you feel like you've underestimated him.  

“Oh yes!” Jaemin quickly agrees excitedly, clapping his hands. “Okay, how about he whispers it to you and if he gets it right, he then has to say it out loud.”   

“What if he gets it wrong?” You ask and Haechan scoffs next to you.   

“He seems pretty confident.” Ningning says, pointing at Haechan’s face and when you look up at him, he’s got a cocky smile plastered on his stupidly pretty face.   

“Alright, Haechanie, make us proud.” Jaemin says while holding a hand to his chest and Haechan rolls his eyes at his friend.   

“Okay,” He leans closer, cupping his hand around your ear to conceal his mouth from the group. “Spitting.” He whispers so that only you can hear and you feel lightheaded for a moment. When he retracts, he gently moves your hair behind your ear and when your eyes find his, he smirks. He’s got you all figured out and he knows it. Bastard. “So?” He asks patiently.   

“Correct.” You say in defeat and everyone cheers a little too loudly around the table.

“So, what is it?” Jaemin asks excitedly.

“Can I?” Haechan asks, eyes still on you, ignoring his friend and you appreciate that he prioritises your comfort. You nod with a smile, giving him permission to say it out loud.

“Spitting.” He says again, out loud this time for all your friends to hear.   

“That’s quite vague, no?” Jeno says. “Who’s spitting and where?”   

You turn in his direction, throwing daggers at him, because there’s no way he’s trying to be a brat. “Oh, would you perhaps like a demonstration? I’ll happily spit in your cute little boba tea right now.” Your sweet tone, insincere and Haechan bursts out laughing, head thrown back, pretty neck on display but you push that thought to the back of your mind.

“Relax woman!” Jeno says with his hands raised in surrender. “No saliva in my drink please.” He takes his drink from the table and covers the top with a hand protectively.   

“You can spit in mine.” Jaemin offers with hopeful eyes, holding up his drink in your direction and you groan at his crassness.   

“Dude, you’re sick.” Renjun says with a shake of his head, judging his friend.   

“No, I’m just versatile.” Jaemin defends with a pout. “No one’s spat in my drink before.”   

“That you know of.” Haechan says with a feigned smile, voice laced with mild irritation.

“Right, well, I hate to ruin the fun, but I have class in fifteen minutes.” Ningning gets up, grabbing her bag and drink. “Bye losers.” She says with a sweet smile and starts walking towards the exit of the cafeteria.   

“Wait!” Jeno’s voice is loud. “I’ll walk with you.” He gets up quickly, clumsily gathering his stuff before following after her like a puppy following his owner, without even looking back at the rest of you. You look at them walk away, already discussing something. You think they look cute together and you wonder what you and Haechan look like to other people.   

“Someone’s toes are definitely getting sucked later.” Jaemin says and you can’t help but laugh at his silly joke.   

Haechan turns to you with a sweet smile. “Are you done with classes for the day?” He asks quietly, leaning his body closer to you and you smile at how comfortable he already acts around you, not caring that his friends are still there.   

“Mm-hmm.” You confirm with a nod, sitting up to stretch your limbs and once the stiffness is somewhat relieved, you sink back into your chair, leaning into his warmth as he wraps his arm around your shoulders again, like it belongs there. “You working this evening?”   

“Nah, I only need to go in on Sunday this weekend.” He says happily as his other hand takes hold of yours, resting limply on his lap. “Wanna come over for dinner?” He asks carefully and your eyes fall on Jaemin and Renjun who are deep in conversation about what jobs Jaemin could look for to earn some extra cash. They’re paying no attention to you and Haechan.   

“Dinner?” You ask with a hopeful smile and turn your head to look up at him, his pretty boba eyes already on you and he nods.   

“Yeah, I could make us something, or we could get takeout.” His cheeks are now pink and you feel giddy at his flustered look. He looks so unbelievably cute and you get the urge to give him kiss, but you don’t. Not here.   

“Sure, I’d like that, but-” Then you look at the two boys sat across the table again, posing a silent question.   

“They’re all out tonight, don’t worry.” He reassures you quietly, reading your mind.   

It’s not that you don’t like being around Haechan’s friends, they’re all lovely and have been nothing but nice to you, but you would appreciate some one-on-one time with him. It’s been exactly a week since your second date and even though you’ve seen him around campus since then, it’s always been with his or your friends around. On the other hand, you’re now realising that neither of you have been over at each other’s places and you feel the nerves as well as the excitement brewing in your stomach.   

You’re aware that both you and Haechan are still navigating the nature of your relationship and even though you know that it’s too soon to tell where it’s going, you’re more than happy to see it through with him. 

You’re also aware that so far, you’ve both made very clear that when you’re left alone, it’s almost impossible to keep your hands off each other. And although, the last thing you want is to keep things between you at a superficial level, you can’t help but wonder what sex with him would feel like. And although, you want things to progress naturally, you have a feeling that if you go over for dinner, you might find out.  

“You sure you don’t wanna go out with them?” You ask, checking that he’s not cancelling any important plans for you.   

“I can’t think of anything worse than going to a frat house filled with a bunch of people I barely know, trust me.” He says with a laugh, his thumb stroking the back of your hand gently. “Plus, I feel like I haven’t properly seen you this week.”   

“Missed me?” You tease him, laughing at his reaction. His eyes roll and he tongues his cheek, trying to conceal his smile.   

“Yeah, and what if I did?” He challenges, his eyes widening, his lips forming a cute pout.   

“If you did,” You trail, leaning closer as you lower your voice, squeezing his hand in yours. “Then that’s great. Because the feeling might be mutual.” You reach up with your free hand to pinch one round cheek and before he has time to react, you lean in, dropping a quick kiss on the other one. “I’d love to come over.” You say with a smile and poke the tiny dimple that’s appeared where you’ve just kissed him.   

“Oh great, so you guys are fucking on our couch.” Jaemin ruins yet another moment and Haechan closes his eyes trying to compose himself. A thought pops into your head and you’re already internally laughing at your own joke.   

”Now, why would we do that, when your bed is available tonight?” You say with a toothy grin and you’re sure Renjun’s loud laugh makes some heads turn, Haechan mimics his reaction, head thrown, hands clapping. “Do not test me Na Jaemin, I will break you.” You point a finger at him with a serious look.   

“You two make a great match, it’s actually scary.” He says in what could be described as amazement or fear, gesturing between you and Haechan.  

_

You wake up confused, looking around and seeing you’re not in the familiar space of your apartment and when you inhale deeply you realise you’re safe. Haechan’s familiar scent helps you relax again and when you move to stretch your legs, you feel a comforting weight on your back, stroking slowly. You nuzzle your face into Haechan’s neck, humming in delight as he pulls the fluffy blanket, which you assume he threw over your figures whilst you were asleep, up to your chin.

“Hey, pretty.” He whispers in your ear, not wanting to startle you, his hand now in your hair, gently scratching your scalp and you purr in delight. “We fell asleep.” His tone still low, voice a little groggy, laced with sleep still.   

”Mmm, what time is it?” You mumble sleepily in his neck and he shuffles around, careful not to move you from where you’re lying comfortably on him, grabbing his phone from the coffee table near the couch you’re both currently cocooned in. Your blink your eyes slowly, thankful that the only thing producing light in the living room area, is the tv screen. Shin-chan still playing on the screen from earlier but the volume is lowered. You assume you must’ve fallen asleep mid cuddling, after dinner. You remember telling him about this crime documentary you watched with Ningning a few nights ago and how you couldn’t sleep after. You also remember him saying that you should’ve called him so he could take your mind off it, and you remember wondering if he really meant that or if he was just being nice.   

“It’s almost nine.” He says quietly after unlocking his phone. “We slept for like two hours.” He yawns cutely while checking any missed notifications and you can see from the corner of your eye, he quickly replies to a message from Jeno. “Seems like Jen convinced Ningning to come out.” He announces with a snort and your ears perk at that, your head slightly raising to look at him in question and he shows you the selfie he’s received from a visibly drunk Jeno, who’s got an arm wrapped around your friend’s shoulders, who’s sticking her tongue out, also visibly drunk.   

“Fuck's sake.” Your head drops on his shoulder again, groaning. “She’s gonna be hungover tomorrow.” You whine and Haechan lets out a laugh, holding you tightly against him, his arm wrapping around your middle. Your hand rests on his chest and you close your eyes, allowing the cosiness to engulf you.  

“It’s fine, I’m sure he’ll look after her.” He places his phone back on the coffee table and wraps his other arm around you, squeezing you like a teddy bear, with a sigh. “Bet my left nut, he’s staying at yours again tonight.” He jokes and you snort at his choice of words.   

“Why the left one specifically?”   

“I’m right-handed so I thought I’d keep the right one.”   

“I’m sure you’ll get to keep both anyway; he’s definitely going home with her.” You agree with his point and tap your hand lightly on his chest, while resting your chin on it to look up at his pretty face. His eyes are closed now and he looks so relaxed, you can’t help but wonder if he’s enjoying the cuddling session as much as you are, but you also don’t want to assume he wants you to stay over. “I can go home, if you wanna go to bed. It’s getting late.”   

His eyes open the moment he seems to have registered your words and he looks down at you. “Or you could stay?” He suggests with hopeful eyes, gauging your reaction. “I have a spare toothbrush, and you can wear something of mine.” He can definitely tell you’re contemplating. “No pressure of course, I get if you wanna be in your own bed.” His fingers comb through your hair soothingly and you close your eyes momentarily.  

"Hmm." You ponder with a smile, letting your hand trail up his chest, fingers absentmindedly stroking along his jaw, feeling the scratch of the light stubble adorning his chin and he tilts his head, leaning into the touch. “I'm sure I won't miss my bed that much.”  

_

After you’ve both brushed your teeth and he’s given you a comfortable big t-shirt of his to change into, you’re ready for bed and when you walk into his room, he’s already turned the main light off and left the bedside lamp on.

He’s lying comfortably under the white covers, back against the headboard while he’s lazily scrolling through his phone. You feel giddy at how soft and warm he looks. Just like a teddy bear you wouldn’t be able to sleep without.

You place your clothes on his desk chair and walk over to the side he’s not occupying, noticing your own phone is placed on the bedside table next to him, plugged in and screen down. You smile at the thoughtful gesture and slowly lift the duvet to get under, instinctively shuffling closer to his side of the bed when he stretches his arm out for you and you place your head on his chest, resembling the position you were in earlier on the couch. His bedsheets are cold and you tangle a leg with his, wiggling your toes against his skin to warm them up, making him flinch and you giggle quietly. “Sorry.”   

He places his phone down, next to yours and moves to get comfortable against the pillows while holding onto your shoulders, bringing you down with him. He maneuvers you so you’re both on your sides facing each other and his arm is still slotted under you, between your head and your shoulder, while yours lazily drapes over his waist. He cups your jaw, gently rubbing his thumb against your skin and when he kisses your forehead gingerly, your eyes close momentarily while your arm tightens around his middle, pulling yourself closer so your chest is touching his. It feels domestic and so comfortable, like you’ve shared a bed with him a million times before.

“You comfy?” He whispers and you nod, the tip of your nose rubbing against his in the process. You see the corners of his lips lifting into a smile that probably mirrors yours. “Are you sleepy?” He murmurs against your lips and you smirk, knowing he’s testing the waters now. His fingers are in your hair and his thigh is resting between your legs, so close to your aching centre that you’re worried he can feel you throbbing through your underwear.   

“Not really.” You breathe against his lips, your hand on his back slipping under the hem of his t-shirt and you feel him shiver when you trail your fingers up, your nails lightly scratching, feeling the goosebumps on his warm skin. “You?” Your breath hitches when his thumb traces your bottom lip, dragging it down and your eyes travel to his heart shaped lips. You instantly wish they were on yours, but you want to let him go at his own pace.   

“What do you think?” He asks rhetorically and you breathe out a laugh, biting down on your bottom lip when his thumb moves to stroke the apple of your cheek.   

“I think,” you pause, lightly dragging your nails down his back, earning a whimper from him. “I’m not really thinking actually.” You confess as your hand travels to his front, fiddling with the strings of his shorts, your fingers catching the elastic band of his shorts and letting it snap against his lower abdomen, earning a gasp from him, which hits your eager lips.   

“Dumb already?” He attempts to tease and the smile dies on his lips, jaw dropping when your hand dips into his slacks and past his underwear, to wrap firmly around him. His eyes close when your thumb rubs under the head and you relish in the fact that he’s almost fully hard. He feels velvet smooth against your palm, thick enough to make you think it will probably sting when he enters you for the first time, slightly curved upwards, length perfect for hitting that sweet spot in your walls. You feel yourself getting wet at the thought and your breathing stutters when his thigh makes contact with your pussy, your hips instantly pushing forward, chasing the stimulating feeling. “Mm fu-“   

His lips are finally on yours, interrupting you and you moan against his mouth in relief, kissing him back like you were made for it. You can’t help but think of that night in the noraebang room; how these very lips completely and utterly ruined you for anyone else. How they devoured you like no one else has before and probably like no one ever will.   

Without breaking the kiss, you push him gently and he rolls onto his back dragging you with him so you can straddle him. He buries his fingers into your hair, deepening the kiss, his tongue gliding against yours and you moan at the taste of him; toothpaste and something uniquely him. Your hands take hold of his, dragging them down your figure and you stop to rest them on your ass, smiling in the kiss when he instantly kneads and pulls at the plush skin. You allow him to lick into your mouth one more time, before breaking the kiss to sit up and take in his dazed expression. Eyes hooded, lips wet and swollen and so irresistible, you feel helpless. Before he can complain, you drop your hands to the hem of the shirt that he let you borrow and slowly start dragging it up your skin, until it’s off you and on the floor.   

“Fuck.” He exhales heavily, the second your tits are free and his hand comes up caressing from your hip up to your ribs until he reaches the underside of your boob and he gently cups, feeling the weight of it in his hand. “You’re fucking unreal.” He whispers and licks his lips before sitting up and wrapping his other arm securely around your waist.

His forehead rests against your chest for a moment, inhaling deeply, almost as if he needs a minute to compose himself while still squeezing your boob in his hand and you let him, threading your fingers through his hair to offer some comfort. His warm breath caresses your nipple and your shiver, the skin around the nub pebbling against his palm. You whine at the sensitivity, pulling at his hair to guide him closer to where you want him.

He gets the message and he kisses across your sternum, his tongue coming out to make contact with your skin before it circles around your areola slowly, teasing you. The pads of his fingers digging into the skin of your boob, squeezing as he sucks the nipple into his mouth and he moans when you whine. He starts flicking his tongue, driving you close to insanity and the wetness in your underwear feels almost unbearable now, but you have other priorities.   

“Hae?” You call out into his hair as he’s still sucking and licking and he hums, indicating that he’s listening, as he scatters more kisses across your chest, moving to wrap his lips around your other nipple. “I wanna suck you off.” You say quickly, before allowing the shyness to infiltrate your brain and he instantly releases the nub, with a wet pop, so he can look up at your face with wide eyes. His mouth is ajar and his lips swollen and wet with his spit. He looks fucked out like this, hair messy and you love it, because you’re the sole reason. You cup his face and he absentmindedly squeezes both your tits in his hands, pushing them together, his eyes not leaving yours.   

“Yeah, baby?” He leans up and kisses you softly. “Wanna make me feel good?” He mumbles seductively against your mouth, and you don’t even think before quickly nodding.   

“Mm please.” You say in a whiny voice, playing along with him, as you pull at the fabric of his top and his hands move to pull at the collar, swiftly removing it. Your hands drag down his naked chest, pushing him to lie against the headboard, continuing their journey down his body, until they reach his shorts. You don’t waste any time, pulling his boxers along with them and he spreads his legs when he’s completely naked, for you to kneel in between them. His hand wraps around his hard cock, resting on his tummy and he whimpers at the needed friction while his eyes are on yours.   

“Tongue out, keep your eyes on me.” He says softly and you clench around nothing, your panties a mess by now, you have to refrain from cringing at the feeling. You instantly obey, leaning closer and sticking your tongue out, millimetres away from where he wants it. He gently taps the head against the centre of your awaiting wet muscle and you moan, fighting to keep your eyes on his, the act feeling intensely intimate. “Suck, baby.” He says, his voice still gentle but more authoritative than before. You wrap your lips around the head and suck softly, tasting his precum and you can’t help but let your eyes close at the taste and weight of him in your mouth. You pull back slightly, swirling your tongue around him and flicking at the underside, causing him to grunt. “Fuck, pretty girl, you’re so good to me, aren’t you.” He says, with a shaky voice in his state of vulnerability, and you moan at the praise as you slap his hand away, replacing it with your own, wrapping your smaller fingers around his thick length and he lets you. You start to move your hand up and down, pumping him at a quick pace while sucking around the tip again, tongue dipping gently in his slit and when his hips buck up, wanting you to take him deeper, you place a hand on his hip as a warning and he grunts. "Fuck baby, please."   

You gather a good amount of saliva in your mouth and when you look up to make sure he's watching you, you let it drip down slowly, watching as it coats his cock and travels down to his balls. You smile when his eyes roll back and you lick from base to top teasingly, surprising him when you take him as deep as you can, with your hand wrapped tightly around the base.

You moan when he reaches the back of your throat, swallowing around him with purpose and you pull back up when you start to gag. Your hand follows your mouth as you slowly start to move your head up and down, trying to give him as much pleasure as you can and you know you're doing a good job when his hands curl in your hair, gathering the strands into a messy ponytail and his moans turn into whines. This time, when his hips start moving, you allow him to fuck up into you, having gotten used to the feeling of him in your throat.

You slacken your jaw, moving your hand from the base to his thigh, and he moans louder when you allow him to go deeper than before. You feel your eyes water and you know you're slobbering around him, making a complete mess as saliva drips from the corners of your mouth, gathering at the base of his cock and balls. Your hand comes up to cup them, rolling gently and he abruptly pulls your mouth off him with a loud groan.

You look at the thick string of spit mixed with precum that’s connecting your lips to his tip, as you gasp for air and then your teary eyes travel up to meet his wild ones. He looks conflicted and his grip on your hair feels tight. "What's wrong?" You ask, your voice comes out hoarse and you feel like coughing to clear your throat, but you just swallow carefully.  

He manages to laugh breathlessly at your confused expression, his breathing shallow and his lips bright pink from all the biting. "I was about to cum." He explains and grabs you by the arms to pull you up.   

"Ain't that the point?" You say as you straddle him again and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, some of the drool smearing on your chin and you internally cringe at the wetness, but his eyes on your mouth tell you he thinks otherwise.   

"Not if you want me to fuck you, no." Your heart jumps at his words and the look on your face must betray you, because he’s smirking. "Unless you don't." He teases, caressing your thighs as you place both hands on his naked chest, your pinky rubbing against his nipple and you giggle when he shudders.   

"No, I do." You confess as you lean down to kiss him but he quickly sits up, meeting you halfway as he wraps his arms around you, maneuvering you onto your back swiftly and you feel yourself bounce on the mattress when he plops you down. He kneels between your legs and without warning, he starts pulling your panties off you. You eagerly raise your hips to help him, bringing your bent legs together, so the fabric doesn't stretch.   

Once the lace is somewhere on the floor, you see his lips curling into a smile as he bites on the bottom one when you mindlessly spread your legs for him again, inviting him to settle between them. He moves closer, dragging his knees on the mattress as his hands take purchase on your hips.   

"Scoot up a bit for me?" He asks sweetly and he helps you move up the bed, so your head rests comfortably on the fluffy pillows, and you feel the butterflies in your stomach causing havoc with no permission, your heart thudding like crazy as your eyes find his and fuck holding back now. You just want him to ruin you.   

You pull at his silver chain, your other hand grabbing the back of his neck and he grunts the second your lips crash, all tongue and teeth with no coordination. You tilt your head to the side to get better access and the wet sound of kissing fills the room. Your clit is throbbing and you desperately need him to do something. Anything. "Please, I'm so wet." You whine against his lips and he moans at your neediness, grinding into your centre. His cock sliding between your folds, the head bumping into your neglected clit and your hips raise searching for more friction.

He leans back on his heels and hunches over you, one hand splayed on your tummy, the other wrapping around his dick as he taps the head against your clit and your legs spread completely, giving him full access as you squeeze around your own tits, needing to hold onto something. Your eyes roll back when he starts firmly rubbing the swollen nub, flicking from side to side and you feel like you're  about to combust, your back arching off the bed as you moan loudly.   

You open your eyes the second the friction comes to a halt, and the complaint dies in your mouth when you're met with the sinful sight of him coating two of his fingers in spit before they disappear between your legs and into your needy hole. "Shit, baby." He says in awe when they easily slide into you and your jaw drops at the fullness, your eyes threatening to shut from the pleasure, but you refuse to stop looking at him. His arm muscles are flexing when he starts fucking you open, instantly finding that sensitive spot that drives you insane, his other hand still, possessively pressing down on your lower abdomen to hold you in place, his hair matted on his damp forehead, his eyes focused on your dripping centre, bottom lip trapped between his teeth in concentration. He looks so hot, you could come just from looking at him and when his thumb comes into the equation, rubbing merciless circles around your clit, you feel yourself getting tighter.   

“You gonna cum?” He asks in a whisper, his eyes meeting yours momentarily and you nod quickly, eyebrows creasing at the intense pressure in your belly.   

"Uh-huh, don’t stop." You respond in a high pitched plea and his pace quickens, creating the filthiest squelching noises around his hand and your eyes close, half in ecstasy half in embarrassment. "Oh my god." Your fingers knead your tits harder when you're on the edge and a moan from him is what topples you over. "Fuck, I'm cumming." Your pussy feels like it's on fire as your walls spasm, your clit throbs like it's about to fall off and your legs can't stop shaking. His fingers are pistoning into you so hard and fast, that it feels like it slightly hurts but it feels so good at the same time. Too good. You sense that you're on the verge of peeing and your voice comes out in a broken squeal. "Shit, ah, stop stop stop!" Your hand grabs his wrist in a desperate state and he looks up at your face with widened eyes, like he's come out of a trance. He stops his ministrations but keeps his fingers buried inside you.   

"Fuck, baby, I'm sorry." The hand on your stomach, moving to your ribs, caressing gently. "Did I hurt you? You- shit, I thought you were gonna squirt for a second so I kept going, I'm really sorry." His pupils are shaking as he explains quickly, taking in your sweaty, disheveled form and you feel so exposed that you make grabby hands at him, wanting him close. He instantly moves, supporting his weight on one arm, careful not to crash you and you sigh when you feel his chest flush against yours, warm and damp.   

"It didn't hurt." You assure him, cupping his cheeks in your hands and he closes his eyes, sighing in relief. "I just felt like I was gonna pee." You confess bashfully and he chuckles, burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply as you run your fingers through his hair. "I've never squirted before, so I freaked out a bit." You explain quietly. "Plus, I don't wanna ruin your bed sheets before we even get to the sex part."   

He snorts and raises his head to look at you again. "Pretty sure they're already ruined." He says giving you a kiss on the cheek and you move to playfully push him off you, but a gasp escapes you when you feel his fingers slightly move, reminding you they're still buried inside your sensitive walls. "Unclench a little, you're squeezing." He whispers and when he kisses you, you slowly relax your walls around his digits, allowing him to carefully pull out and you whine at the loss, making him smile in the kiss. His hand cups your sensitive core, making you mewl at the comforting warmth. "You sure you still wanna keep going? We don't have to if you're feeling sore."  

"I'm fine." You wrap your legs around his waist, holding him close. “Want you.” You whisper, hands sliding up his chest, coming up to bury in his hair again, as you bring his lips down to yours, urging him to kiss you stupid. And he does. 

It’s slow, steady, passionate and you feel like mush in his arms, numb to the core, your lips moving in sync with his, taking what he’s giving you. You inhale and exhale heavily through your nose, refusing to break the kiss and you moan when he obscenely shoves his tongue into your mouth, licking messily and the conversation from earlier enters your mind suddenly. “Mm- I want mmf-” He interrupts you with another messy kiss before pulling away, allowing you to speak.  

“You want what?” He asks quietly, lips still grazing yours as he catches his breath. Your eyes are on his glistening mouth, and he must sense your hesitation, because he presses again, hand caressing up and down your thigh in encouragement. “Tell me, baby, I’ll give you anything you want.”   

“Remember what we talked about earlier?” You try, too embarrassed to actually say the words.  

“Earlier?” His eyebrows furrow in thought, not catching on straight away.  

“At the café.” You whisper, your eyes drop to his mouth again, slightly hinting and when they find his again, you know he’s caught on.   

“You- fuck.” He falters when your hips raise, the tip of his cock catching at your entrance momentarily before sliding between your folds. “You want me to spit in your mouth?” He asks carefully, after having somewhat collected himself, both arms coming up, trapping your head between them as he rests his weight on them. You nod, holding eye contact, hands traveling down his abdomen, fingers tracing his sides before trailing up his spine, bracing once having reached his shoulders, palms resting on the blades. “You fucking minx.” His hand cups your chin, fingers lightly squishing your cheeks, forcing your lips to pucker as he leans in to press a chaste kiss on them. 

His index taps against your cheek gently, as his hold on your face loosens. “Open up.” He instructs, his voice low, eyes darkening and you feel your cunt fluttering around nothing. “Tongue out.” His fingers lightly shake your face from side to side possessively and your brain stops functioning, tongue sticking out as if on demand and you whine when you watch him gather saliva in his mouth, cheeks hollowing a little, before slowly letting it dribble down your awaiting muscle. Your eyes rolls back when you feel it and your fingernails instinctively dig into his shoulders. “Swallow.” He instructs again, and you obey with a desperate moan, revelling in his dominant demeanour. His hand wraps around your throat, feeling the movement and he kisses you again, grunting against your lips, as you struggle to keep up with him, mouth widening to take his tongue in and you feel the wetness smearing on your chin messily.   

You realise no one has ever kissed you like Haechan, and you wonder if he’s always kissing his sexual partners like this. Has anyone else experienced this level of intimacy with him before? You instantly feel the jealousy brewing at the thought of someone receiving this kind of affection; this kind of pleasure from him and you surprise yourself, never having felt this possessive over someone before. Something switches in you.

“Fuck me.” You breathlessly mumble, not recognising your own voice and he moans in your mouth as your hand reaches down, wrapping around his cock, smearing the shiny drops of precum adorning his tip. His hips thrust forward into your touch and you pump him steadily a couple more times, offering some sort of relief.   

He pulls away slightly, to look at you. “Let me grab a condom.” He says quickly before grabbing your ankles, unwrapping them from his waist.   

“Right, yes.” You nod dumbly, feeling a little silly for having lost all sensibility because of him.   

You watch him as he reaches blindly in the bedside table drawer; his eyebrows furrowing in concentration and his face lights up the second he finds one. You watch him as he sits back on his heels, ripping the foil with his teeth. You watch him as he rolls the latex carefully onto his hard cock, teeth sinking in his bottom lip as he pumps himself a few times, ensuring the condom is on properly, chest moving as he breathes heavily. You watch him as he moves closer, coating two fingers in saliva, before bringing them down to your slit again, rubbing up and down slowly before dipping them in and quickly pumping into you to prep you, even if you really don’t need it. You let him though, because you want to keep watching him for a little longer. 

He looks ethereal, skin glistening in a sheen layer of sweat, his shoulders wide, his chest and arm muscles lean, bicep flexing subtly as he expertly slides his fingers in and out, scissoring them to stretch you for him. He looks like the epitome of sex and you can’t even bring yourself to moan as his palm rubs against your sensitive clit, your jaw dropping with a quiet, trembling breath when he starts jabbing at your already abused g-spot and your hands release the sheets in favour of holding your legs open, when they threaten to close.

“Think I’m gonna cum again.” You mumble in awe, eyes staying on him still.   

“You think?” He asks, voice laced with sarcasm, pace quickening, urging you to unravel around his fingers for the second time tonight. “Go on, baby.” His free hand, presses against the back of your thigh, pushing your leg close to your chest, testing your flexibility and the second his eyes meet yours, you cum. Hard. “Yeah, good girl.” He praises softly and you let out a whine, allowing your eyes to finally shut, not being able to handle his intense stare, your back arching as your fingers dig into the backs of your thighs, legs uncontrollably shaking, walls clenching repeatedly around his hand, clit pulsing against the heel of his palm as he helps you ride out your orgasm.   

He starts kissing up your trembling body, lips wet, tongue lapping up your sweaty skin and he doesn’t even give you the chance to catch your breath when he harshly sucks your nipple in his warm mouth as his fingers leave your heat to wrap around his hard cock, rubbing the head up and down your soaked cunt. Your hands come up to grab onto his hair, as you attempt to anchor yourself and you can’t help but moan loudly when he pushes in. And even though it’s only the tip, it’s enough to drive you close to insanity.   

“Fuck!” You exclaim, forcing his head up so you can kiss him as he slowly bottoms out, distracting yourself from the stinging sensation.   

You both moan when his pelvis meets yours, his pubic bone flush against your hypersensitive clit as he gives you a second to adjust. He slowly pulls out to the tip and thrusts back in, maintaining a slow, careful pace to make sure you’re feeling comfortable.

“Relax for me.” He exhales a shaky laugh against your lips and you squeeze even harder to tease him. “Fuck! Baby, what the f- don’t.” He warns with a grunt as he wraps an authoritative hand around your neck and draws his hips back a little, before slamming in with force, not a second later. 

The loud noise that escapes your throat resembles a scream and your eyes roll back when he starts fucking into you hard and fast, wet slapping sounds echoing and you don’t even feel embarrassed at hearing how wet you are, the intense pleasure taking over your senses, completely clouding any coherent thought.

“Not so bratty now, are we?” He grunts against your jaw as the hand around your neck tightens slightly, causing your ears to start ringing and your eyes to water. He releases you just when you start feeling dizzy, allowing you to catch your breath. He lets out a dark laugh at your loud gasps and buries his hand in your hair instead, pulling at the roots, so your head lolls back on the pillows, giving him access to your neck. 

“So fucking wet, fffuck, so good.” He slurs between sloppy kisses against your sensitive skin as his hips slow down, fucking you nice and deep at a lazy pace, torturing you. “You take me so well, baby.” His crude words causing you to clench around him as his tongue laps from the base of your neck, up to your ear, flicking the lobe playfully.

“Look.” He whispers, moist breath tickling your ear as the hand fisting you hair, forces your head forward and off the pillow, making you look down between your bodies and you obediently open you eyes. You take in the unholy visual of his cock slowly dragging out to the tip, coated in your shiny slick essence, a white ring forming at the base and your eyes threaten to roll back when he so easily slides back in, at the same torturous pace. “See how perfect you are?”

Your nails drag down his back, leaving scratch marks behind and he hums against your neck when they dig into the flesh of his ass. “Faster, please.” You breathe out and he loosens his hold, allowing your head to tip back down, his eyes finding yours as he maintains the slow pace. 

"You sure, baby?" His tone mocking as he sits back up on his knees, looking down at your messy cunt practically sucking him back in every time he slowly pulls out. You reel at the sight of his feral expression, his eyes unfocused as they trail up and down your naked body, like he can’t decide what to focus on. You feel exposed to the core but your arousal wins and you moan loudly, back arching when his thumb slowly circles around your clit twice, stimulating the stiff nub. 

"Hae, please." You're on the verge of tears and he must like the sound of your begging, because he doesn’t hesitate this time.

He leans down again, bringing his lips to yours, thrusts increasing in pace and force significantly but never losing preciseness, giving you exactly what you want. “Yeah, you want it hard? Fuckin take it.” He grunts, kisses turning sloppy, all tongue and teeth and you can’t stop moaning, mouth hanging open against his as he relentlessly slams his hips against yours.

“Yes, oh my god.” You exhale against his mouth, as he changes the angle slightly and starts fucking directly into your g-spot, barely pulling out before thrusting back in, his balls slapping against your ass and you’re pretty sure you’ve never been fucked this good before. “Fuck, Haechan, baby, please please please, don’t stop.” You blabber, completely lost in mind-numbing bliss, your legs spreading as far as they can go, allowing him to thrust as deep as he pleases. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I need you to cum.” He whispers, tone laced with urgency, almost sounding like he’s in pain and he wastes no time; a hand slotting between your bodies, resuming the stimulation on your clit, as he supports his weight on one arm, thrusts unfaltering, unforgiving and just perfect. His fingers start rubbing rough, tight circles around the nub and your toes curl against his sides, arms securely wrapping around his shoulders, as your walls squeeze around him, indicating another orgasm approaching, and when his fingers along with the head of his cock rub against the right spot, you’re gone.

Your moan comes out broken, walls clamping down on him, legs pathetically attempting to close around him but failing as your thighs shake violently and you feel dizzy, a tear rolling down your temple from the intensity of your high.   

He keeps fucking you into the mattress, thrusts turning a little sloppy now that you're squeezing around him, hips losing their steady rhythm and when the pleasure borders overstimulation, causing you to mewl, he abruptly pulls out, kneeling between your legs and over your spent body. He pulls the condom off quickly with trembling fingers and he moans as he starts jerking himself off, aiming for your abdomen as his free hand curls around your ribs, holding you exactly where he wants you.  

“You look so good.” You exhale in awe as you observe him in the midst of his pleasure, his eyes shut, head thrown back, his pretty neck on display as he moans loudly and his hooded eyes find yours again for a second before they roll back into his head. 

“Shit, gonna cum.” He shakily announces, your praise seeming to have worked wonders, as you feel the first spurts of hot liquid landing on your skin. You take in the beautiful sight of his shaking form, chest and neck flushed, drenched in sweat, eyebrows creasing in between, eyes still shut, jaw slack as he releases short breaths.

He’s milking himself when you look down and you can’t help but ogle at the sight of your skin covered in the sticky white mess he’s created, illuminated by the bedside lamp. You notice some of it has landed on your tits, some on your tummy and you’re pretty sure some of it is pooling in the dip of your belly button, causing you to bite back a smile. 

“Fuck.” He breathes in relief as his eyes slowly open to look at you and he looks dazed, fucked out. His tan skin flushed, making him look delicious. Sweat drips down his temple, hands shaking as they rest on your thighs limply. “I think I blacked out for a second there.” He mutters in awe and you giggle at his crazy eyes, while he tries to regulate his breathing.

His cheeky smile has returned, and he leans in, taking a closer look at his work. “Damn, I did a number on you.” He teases, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the sinful sight. “Pretty.” He whispers and takes your limp hand in his, lips kissing gently on the back of it, eyes looking up at you innocently, like he didn’t just fuck you stupid.   

When he drops your hand, he leans down with no warning and you panic at his mischievous expression, as his head disappears between your legs.

“What are you doing?” You ask in confusion and he chuckles softly.   

“Shhh.” He breathes against your folds as his hands hold your legs open and the second his tongue swipes against your heat, you squirm, trying to move further up the bed, but he tightens his arms around your thighs, holding you still. “Relax, just take it.” He whispers calmly before gently sucking on your clit. His tongue slides down to lap at your entrance, slightly dipping in, tasting you directly, before flattening and licking up to the bundle of nerves, making you mewl when he swirls around it languidly. He keeps going, alternating between sucking, licking and gently circling until your legs are shaking again. Your hands release the sheets, moving to desperately hold onto his hair, fingers pulling, not knowing whether to push him away or pull him closer and his moan vibrates against your clit, pushing you over the edge once more. You cry out pathetically, not able to form any words, cumming uncontrollably on his tongue as he refuses to let up until your whole body shakes from overstimulation.  

“Please, I- I can’t- can't cum again.” You stumble over your words, as he licks against your entrance, slurping up your juices, the sounds incriminating and you don’t even have the energy to push him away anymore. You just accept that if he tries to make you come again, you’ll probably pass out. To your relief, he thankfully stops once he’s cleaned you up with his tongue.

You blink up at him when you feel his weight on you, his skin feels hot on yours, his cum smearing between you, and he doesn’t seem have a care in the world. The only thing he does seem to care about is shoving his tongue in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself, kissing you like he owns you and at this point, he might as well spell out his name on your body with his cum, because he has completely and utterly destroyed you and you know you’re irrevocably ruined for anyone else.   

“So good for me, baby girl.” He mutters wetly, mouth open against yours, breathing heavy. “So fucking sweet.” He whispers almost inaudibly and you cup his chin in your hand, squishing his cheeks between your fingers, pecking him on his puckered lips.   

“You’re fucking insane, Lee Haechan.” You weakly chuckle as he tries to kiss you again, his whine childish as your firm hold on his face prevents him from doing so. “Get off me, before I piss myself in your bed, you freak. You’re pressing against my bladder.”  

_

After having gently cleaned you up with a warm hand towel and carried you to the bathroom so you can sort yourself out, he’s got you back in his bed, safely cocooned in his arms and under the covers. His front is comfortably pressed against your back and you’re basking in the warmth and the nakedness.   

“Now I’m definitely sleepy.” You mumble with a content smile and he quietly chuckles in your hair, tightening his arms around you, holding you as close as possible, sighing in delight.  

“Mm same.” He mumbles sleepily against your neck. “You comfortable like this?” He checks, and you feel giddy at his attentiveness.   

“Mm-hmm, more than.” You nuzzle back into him, lazily stroking your fingers up and down the arm that’s wrapped around your middle, his palm casually cupping your boob; not squeezing, just gently holding. You feel him smile as he presses a sweet kiss on your shoulder.

A few moments of comfortable silence pass, and just when you think his breathing has started to slow down, he quietly speaks again.  

“Y/N?” He asks tentatively and his serious tone worries you.   

“Yeah?” You attempt to turn your head to look at him, but his tight embrace holds you in place and you presume he needs to not be looking at you when he says his next words.   

“I think-” He pauses, collecting his thoughts and you have a feeling you know what he’s trying to get at, so you give him time, hand still gently stroking his arm. “Are we on the same page here?”  

“Well,” You sigh, feigning uncertainty and the tensing in his arm almost makes you regret dragging this. “That depends Lee Haechan.” The teasing smile evident in your voice. “What page are you on?”  

© neogotmycookie 2025

[smileysuh]

speedway

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader 

🔮 preview. “Listen, we can plan a date on a night that’s not my best friend’s bachelorette, and you can be my date to her wedding, and I’ll go with you to the next Speedway event, but right now, I need you to fuck me stupid on the hood of your car like it’s your last night on Earth, deal?” 

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism, fucking on a car, fucking in the woods/at a lookout, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, creampie, hand job, dirty talk, praise, man handling, size kink, semi!dom Mingyu, semi!rough sex, heavy making out, some foreplay, simpy!Gyu, slight overstimulation, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 4.3k 

🍭 aus. Strangers to lovers, racecar driver!Mingyu, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. It’s the way I went to the Speedway for the first time this summer, and I was like… yup! 

One:

You’d never in a million years have thought you’d be at a small town speedway for a bachelorette party, but Park isn’t like any friends you’ve ever had in your whole life.

She lives and dies for fast cars, and you suppose a bachelorette party here makes sense. She’d described it as four (or five) hours of fun, drinking, and being cute while dressed in white on shitty wooden bleachers overlooking a track of chaos. So yeah, it’s right up her alley.

It’s not NASCAR. It’s not F1. It’s just a regular small town way of existing, and for many people in this neck of the woods, this entertainment trumps the NHL, Basketball, and the Super Bowl. You can tell, as you sit in the stands with your small party, that those around you live and breathe the speedway.

“Okay, so this is a fun one,” Park gushes. “It’s called Hit To Pass, and basically the cars have to touch each other to pass, so it’s the most fun.”

“And the most dangerous,” you note with a laugh. “This isn’t going to turn into Final Destination type of destruction, is it?”

“I don’t even understand that reference,” Park says, clearly distracted as the cars begin to move. “Okay, so you see that black car? With the six-six-six? That belongs to Kim Mingyu, and he’s a complete MacGyver and dichotomy at the same time.”

“How so?” you humour her.

“So off the track, apparently he’s a complete sweetheart. Like, wins the race, and then is all puppy boy energy. But on the track-” her words stop abruptly as the six-six-six car taps another, sending it spinning out as the crowd roars. “Well, as you can see, on the track, Mingyu is a complete asshole. Totally aggressive, but in the most entertaining way.” 

You nod. “He sounds interesting.”

“If I never met Seungcheol…” Park trails off after saying her fiancé’s name, but the rest of the statement is implied. This Kim Mingyu is her celebrity crush, if you could call a small town narscar-adjacent driver a celebrity. “But anyway, he’s my favourite, and you’re lucky that you’re here to see him race.”

Two:

“Can I buy you a drink?” The voice makes you turn, and you have to tilt your head up to look at the man towering next to the bar top. You can only blink, and he lets out a chuckle. “I mean, as a congratulations on the whole marriage thing.”

He motions to your all while outfit, and a laugh escapes you. “Oh, I’m not getting married.” You fix your sash. “See, it says Bridesmaid, not Bride.”

“Lucky me,” he smirks, and you take in his boyish face. He’s definitely very attractive, all tall, dark, and handsome. To make matters worse, he’s clearly a charmer, and it lights a fire in the pit of your stomach.

Any other night and you would go home with this man in an instant… but tonight, you’re here for a bachelorette party, and you don’t want to leave Park hanging.

“How about this,” you suggest. “Buy a round of shots for the table, come over, and pretend to like speedway racing, and we’ll see if the bride will allow me to have a dance with you or something.”

The man laughs. “Easy.”

He orders a round for the table, and the two of you head back to the corner of the bar where Park is waiting with the rest of the girls.

“I found a stray,” you announce, setting the drinks down on the booth table. “First round is on him.”

Park doesn’t say anything, and when you look up, you realize she’s staring, jaw dropped, at the tall man next to you.

“Heard you girls were at the speedway,” he says smoothly, “did you have fun?”

“Holy fuck,” Park says, and then she says it again, but louder this time. “Holy fuck! You’re Kim fucking Mingyu!”

“Just Kim Mingyu,” the stranger at your side laughs. “You must be the bride to be.”

“Uh…” You see Park pause, and she swallows thickly. “Uh huh.” 

You know she loves Seungcheol with all her heart; they were childhood sweethearts after all, but… You can also see the way she deflates at having to tell her celebrity crush that she’s about to be very happily married.

“Congratulations,” Mingyu smiles. 

“Yeah, um, how did you two meet?” Park looks between the two of you expectantly.

“Well,” Mingyu turns to grin at you, “Saw her at the bar, thought she looked cute, and before I could even ask for her name after offering a drink, she said I’d have to buy a round for the table, and come talk about the speedway to be granted a dance with her.”

“Oh,” you swallow thickly, realizing you skipped a few steps. “I’m y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you, y/n,” Mingyu says, his smile never faltering.

“I grant a dance!” Park declares loudly. “I grant it! Take her! The bride grants a dance!”

“Well, that was easier than I thought it would be,” Mingyu laughs. “What do you say, sweetheart? The music is good.”

You turn to look at Park, and she is nodding aggressively. It seems that if she can’t live out this celebrity fantasy, she’s more than happy for you to do it in her stead.

Turns out you might be allowed by the bride to get laid tonight after all.

“Let’s go,” you tell Mingyu, quickly downing a shot for liquid courage before dragging the tall man to the dancefloor.

In other instances, you might want to be more eloquent with words, might want to talk to this beautiful man, but tonight, you’re in a bar, and the preferred means of communication here is often physical rather than verbal.

When you’re immersed in the crowd on the dance floor, you turn to Mingyu, willing your expression and the way you begin to sway your hips to communicate that you’re very interested in him.

He grins, immediately grabbing your hips to pull you close to him as you both begin to sway to the music.

You hold onto his large shoulders, looking up at him, and you note the way he studies you. His gaze dips to your lips, and this whole thing feels easy.

He’s tall, that’s the one thing that makes the situation slightly more difficult, but all you have to do is tiptoe to press your lips to his, and he takes it from there.

One of his hands sneaks up to cup your cheek, and he kisses you deeply. His tongue tastes like whiskey, but you’re sure that your own is tinged with tequila. It’s clear neither of you mind it, and you open your mouth a little wider as he kisses your breath away.

You’re semi-cognisent of the other people, swirling and moving like ocean waves around you, but Mingyu has nearly all of your attention captured, and it’s clear from the way he holds you that he’s not intent on letting it go any time soon.

You’ve met one or two men in your life who know how to kiss you off the bat, and you’d thought those kisses were good, but Mingyu blows your entire history of making out out of the water. 

This is animalistic, but fuck, it feels so good.

You long to be closer to him, and even though your chests are pressed together, it’s not enough.

He feels it too, because the hand on your hip snakes down to your ass, and he squeezes you deliciously, making you moan against his lips.

You’ve heard the term ‘fucking on the dancefloor’ but you’ve never been one to parktake in it… now here you are, with one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen, who aparranty is also a fast as fuck dangerous professional driver? 

Done. You’re done. 

You’re fucking this man tonight or so help you God.

You know, as you make out with Mingyu, that if you were to not fuck him, it would be one of the biggest regrets of your life, and you’re not about to do that to yourself. 

The two of you make out for maybe five minutes tops, but it takes all of your will power to pull off of him, breathing deeply as you look up into his eyes. “Show me your car.”

Is it the classiest place to have sex? Fuck no, but does it suit the situation? Without a doubt.

Mingyu grins that sexy grin of his, and he grabs your hand. The crowd practically opens up for him as he walks through it, and he drags you after him- but just as you’re about to head to the door, you take pause.

“One second!” you tell him over the loud music.

Then you scurry back to your table. “Park!” you say, grabbing her attention. “I’m going to go fuck that man, is that okay?”

“Girl, live the dream! Just keep your location on or something!”

“Thank you!” You hug your friend, and then you dart back off to Mingyu, who is laughing near the exit of the bar.

“Got the bride’s stamp of approval?” he asks.

“It was needed,” you giggle. 

Mingyu grabs your hand and the two of you head to the parking lot.

Your town has a lot of dude’s with trucks, and when your eyes land on a sexy black muscle car, you know that’s what Mingyu drives before he even takes you over to it.

“It’s a 1969 Camaro,” Mingyu explains. “One of the first cars I ever restored.”

You don’t know shit about cars, but you know enough about men to say, “Wow, it’s beautiful.”

“Do you want to go for a ride?” the racer asks, stepping behind you and holding you close to his front, his dead dipping down so he can press a kiss to your throat.

“Let’s do it,” you confirm.

Mingyu opens the car door for you, waiting until you’re inside of it before closing it shut.

Park wasn’t lying about him being a sweetheart off the racetrack, and your heart clenches as he gets into the driver’s seat.

“Let me know if we’re going too fast,” he grins, as he turns the car on and the engine roars to life.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you as the car speeds out of the parking lot. 

You’ve driven on the highway before, gone faster than you should, but there’s something different about being in this car, with this man, and this engine sound filling your ears. 

It’s such a different experience than you’re used to, and you can feel yourself getting wet- maybe Park was onto something when she said that Speedway and this way of life could be sexy.

You lose track of yourself, and soon, Mingyu’s pulling off onto a dirt road.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“There’s a lookout up here. No one really knows about it. Figured you’d enjoy a view.”

“You’re not going to serial kill me or anything, are you?” you laugh.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, I pinky promise.” The beautiful man literally holds out his pinky, and you laugh as you interlock yours with his own.

Tonight is a night for trusting the process, and when the muscle car pulls to a stop overlooking the small town below, you’re glad you did.

“Let me get your door,” Mingyu warns you as you reach for the handle, and you’re giddy as you watch him exit, walk around the car, and be a gentleman for you. He even offers you his hand to help you out of the car, and your heart leaps in your chest.

The two of you walk around to the front of the vehicle, and Mingyu leans back against the hood, pulling you to his chest again. Your back is to him, and his body is warm as the two of you look out at the town below.

“So… how long have you been racing?” you ask, supposing that now that you’re out of the bar, maybe you could actually put some effort into getting to know him.

“Since I was a kid. Did the whole go-karting thing. I really liked fixing up cars and making them faster,” he explains. “Was today your first Speedway event?”

“Am I that obvious?” you laugh.

Mingyu chuckles with you. “You just don’t seem like the type.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Mingyu shrugs behind you. “Not really. I think it’s probably a good thing, actually.”

“Yeah, and why is that?”

“Well, you don’t have any bullshit to say about my car, for one. Because you don’t know anything about it.”

The two of you laugh. “Do people really critique your car?” you ask.

“All the time,” Mingyu admits. “But they don’t realize each car has a different reason for being built a certain way. Sure the motor or the muffler might sound off, but if it’s a Hit to Pass car then fuck it.”

“I did see your Hit to Pass race,” you note.

“And?”

“It was super exciting.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. You should come to the next event too. You could come down to the pit and hang out and watch with me, it’s the best seat in the house.”

You quirk a brow, looking at him over your shoulder. “So you want to see me again?”

“I want a lot of things.”

You turn in his arms, looking up at him as his hands settle on your hips. “Like what?”

Mingyu shrugs, and you think that it’s cute he’s acting coy. Park had mentioned that Mingyu can be a little angel off the track, and you’re starting to understand what she meant. 

“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” you grin.

His cheeks turn pink even in the limited light of the moon.

“You want to fuck me over the hood of your sexy muscle car, and then you want to take me on a date to the Speedway next weekend because you’re that whipped by little ol’ me.”

“Might also want to be your date for your friend’s wedding but I don’t know,” Mingyu says playfully. 

You can’t help but grin up at him. “What makes you so sure you actually want to date me?”

“The same thing that made me sure I wanted to drive cars for the rest of my life,” Mingyu explains. “It’s a gut feeling, and I’ve learned to trust my gut.”

“Lucky me,” you whisper, leaning up to press your lips against his.

He kisses you back, but it’s more gentle than it had been on the dance floor. Apparently it had only taken one small conversation for this man to decide you’re more than just a hookup, which is sweet, and endearing, but you kind of want that aggressive side back. You want Speedway Mingyu, and you grab the front of his leather jacket, pulling him closer in an effort to draw that alter ego out.

Mingyu reacts by deepening the kiss, his hands groping at your body, but then his palm swipes down your arm and he stops. “Are you cold?” he asks.

“A little,” you admit, having not brought a jacket with you. Your little white bridesmaid dress is gorgeous, but it’s not necessarily the warmest of outfits.

Mingyu pauses to take off his leather jacket, and he puts the large material over your body, helping you with the arm holes.

“It looks cute on you,” he grins.

“It looks about five sizes too big,” you laugh.

“You might have to get used to things being too big if you stick with me,” Mingyu teases, drawing your lips to his before you can even have a moment to respond.

With two strong hands, he picks you up, turning you both so you’re now the one seated on the hood of the car. Your thighs wrap around his waist, and he teases the bare skin of your leg with his warm palm as you kiss deeply again.

In no time, you’re tugging him closer by his belt, and he begins to grind against you, prompting you to let out a deep moan.

It’s just you, Mingyu, the car, and the moon, and you don’t care who hears you as Mingyu gets you wetter and wetter by the second.

You can’t help yourself, you cup his cock through his jeans, and now it’s Mingyu who’s moaning deeply. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans. 

“Now I know what you meant by getting used to big things if I stick with you,” you grin, throwing his own line back at him.

He swallows thickly, his expression darkening. “Think you can handle it?”

“I know I can.”

Mingyu grabs the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his again as you continue to rub his cock through his jeans.

His free hand finds your thigh again, creeping closer and closer to where you need him most. Then, he’s under your dress, and the pads of his fingers rub your wet pussy through your panties, making you both groan.

Then, Mingyu pushes your thong to the side, and you gasp as one finger enters you, testing your walls.

“You good?” he asks, looking down at you as you whimper desperately.

“So good, need more,” you tell him, drawing his lips back to yours.

“You got it,” Mingyu laughs, adding a second digit.

Your toes curl as he finger fucks you, and you do your best to continue rubbing him through his jeans, but you’re so turned on that you can hardly think. 

His palm is applying pressure to your clit, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge by the second.

“I think you want to cum for me, sweetheart,” Mingyu muses. “Think you want to cum on my fingers so I’ll give you my cock.”

“Fuck, yes please,” you whimper, gasping as he crooks his fingers up and hits your sweet spot.

He leans closer, pressing hot kisses against your throat while you throw your head back to give him room.

You’re on the hood of the sexiest muscle car, with the sexiest man you’ve ever seen up under your dress, two fingers deep in your wet core, his palm stimulating your clit while he worships your neck with gloriously perfect lips, the moon and forest are watching, and you’re on the cusp of what you know is going to be an extremely intense orgasm. Nothing could ever be better than this.

“Cum on my fingers,” Mingyu urges you, “want to fuck you so bad.”

A few more particularly rough thrusts of his digits into your sopping core has you tipping over the edge, and you release a loud moan, your pussy clamping down like a vice. Waves of pleasure rush through you, and it’s the most you can do to grab onto his shoulders and hold on as he works the most electrifying orgasm you’ve ever experienced out of you.

It’s bordering on overstimulation, but fuck, it feels so good.

With a few involuntary jolts, your body slowly comes down from the high, and Mingyu pulls his fingers out from under your dress.

You watch by moonlight as he licks his digits clean, releasing a groan. 

“I should eat you out,” he muses.

“You should fuck me,” you correct him.

“You in a rush?” he teases.

“Yes, but also no. It’s Park’s bachelorette, I do need to get back to them sooner rather than later.”

“Oh.” Mingyu falters. “I thought maybe you’d come back to mine.”

“Listen, we can plan a date on a night that’s not my best friend’s bachelorette, and you can be my date to her wedding, and I’ll go with you to the next Speedway event, but right now, I need you to fuck me stupid on the hood of your car like it’s your last night on Earth, deal?” 

Mingyu laughs. “Deal.” 

“Also, to expedite things, I’m on birth control, and I kind of want to feel your cum in my panties when I go back to the bar,” you tell him breathlessly.

“Jesus, you’re more wild than you look, sweetheart,” Mingyu laughs.

“Something tells me you enjoy that,” you giggle.

“Definitely.” Mingyu smashes his lips to yours again, and as he presses his body forward, you begin to undo his belt. 

Soon, you’re hooking your fingers in his jeans and underwear and tugging them down just far enough to expose his cock, which you grab tightly.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans against your lips. 

“I’ll suck you off next time too,” you tell him, loving how large and warm he is in your hand. 

You’re both horny little devils, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Mingyu pushes forward, and you guide him to your pussy, groaning deeply as his large tip enters your tight hole. You’re so wet from your orgasm that it’s easy for inch after inch of his massive cock to slide into you, and you wrap your legs around his hips to encourage the deep penetration.

He’s groaning against your lips as you feverishly make out, and you can’t help the whimpers that escape you too. When he’s fully bottomed out, you take a moment to appreciate it, but soon, your body wants more.

“Fuck me,” you tell him, grabbing the front of his shirt. “Don’t hold back.”

“You sure?” he asks.

“A hundred percent.”

Mingyu takes a breath, and then he adjusts your legs on his hips. “If I’m going too fast-”

“You won’t,” you assure him. 

“Okay.” He swallows thickly, and then he begins to fuck you. He doesn’t waste any time going full throttle, and you find your body slipping back and forth on the hood of his car like a ragdoll as he manhandles you, fucking you like a piston.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, loving the feeling of this.

“Lay down,” he instructs, and you do as you’re told, lying against the hood of his muscle car as Mingyu fucks you stupid.

The whole car is rocking slightly now, and there’s something so sexy about that. You look up at the moon, and realize the exhibitionistic side of this is making you even hornier.

You can’t help yourself as you reach down under your dress to rub your clit, and Mingyu groans when your core tightens around him from the stimulus.

“Fuck,” he says roughly. 

“Just like that,” you tell him, closing your eyes and giving in to the sensation of being properly railed on top of a car by a Speedway racer.

“You look so fucking hot like this,” Mingyu tells you. “So fucking wet too.”

You can only moan in response, rubbing your clit harder. 

Each powerful rock of his hips feels like absolute heaven. You find yourself getting close to the edge again, and you’re not the only one who notices.

“You’re so tight, gonna cum on my cock, yeah?” Mingyu grins.

“Just feels so good,” you whimper.

“I want you to cum on it,” he tells you. 

“Will you cum too?”

“Not yet,” he warns, swallowing thickly. “I want to enjoy you a little longer.”

“Okay,” you nod, fingers continuing on your clit, a constant built up of pressure and pleasure in the pit of your stomach.

“That’s it,” Mingyu encourages you, listening intently to your whimpers and moans.

“I’m so close,” you tell him, toes curling. 

He fucks you even harder, the whole car rocking deliciously.

Two more thrusts send you over the edge, your core clamping down on his massive cock- and then, to your complete surprise, Mingyu fucks you faster. 

Your entire body goes into overdrive, electric pleasure flooding through you. You moan and whimper, practically clawing at the hood of the car as he rails you through your orgasm like no man ever has before.

This is overstimulation, but it’s the best kind of pained pleasure you’ve ever experienced. 

As you come down from your high, Mingyu pulls out of you, and you let out a whimper of annoyance, but then he’s dragging you off the hood, flipping you around, and pressing you back to the metal. He lifts your dress up and enters you standing doggy style, making you squeak with surprise.

His stong, large hands grab your hips. “Now I’m going to cum in you,” he tells you, making you moan a sound of affirmation and excitement.

His groans are the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard, and your knees wobble as he keeps you upright and in position. The smacking noise of his hips against your ass has your mind reeling, and each thrust is deep penetration.

You can safely say no man is ever going to fuck you like this again, so you enjoy every second.

“Fuck,” Mingyu grunts, one hand flattening against your back to keep you pinned to the hood of his car. 

“Cum in me,” you whimper desperately.

Mingyu jolts, and you feel him filling you up, cumming hard. 

You’re both breathing heavily and moaning as he enjoys his release, but soon, you’re both just gasping and trying to recollect yourselves.

“Are you sure you have to go back to the bachelorette party?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” you groan.

“What if you come over after?”

“Mingyu, the best things come to those who wait,” you tease. 

“As if either of us have a lot of patience,” he scoffs.

You laugh. “Good point.”

Three:

“Is that Mingyu’s jacket?” Park asks as you rejoin her in the booth at the bar.

You nod. “Yup.”

“So… ya’ll fucked then?”

“At a lookout on his car.”

“On it?” she gasps.

“On the hood,” you confirm. “Oh, and he’s my plus one to your wedding now, hope that’s okay.”

Park rests her head down against the table, letting out an inhumane sound. Then she looks up at you with a forced smile. “I’m so happy for you.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! why is this man so hot

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “Oh no, not paint!” he says dramatically, undoing his belt. “Looks like everything has to be washed!” Now both of you are giggling as he strips down to his underwear, and the moment you’re both half naked, you grab his face with both hands and press your lips to his own. Mingyu’s hands find your hips, and you can feel the wet of the paint on your skin but you don’t care.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, creampie, body worship, oral, pussy eating, fucking on a couch, multiple reader orgasms, multiple positions, man handling, size kink, big dick Mingyu, foreplay, breast worship, breast obsession, simp Mingyu, semi!rough Mingyu, giggly cuddly sex, etc…   I petnames. (hers) sweetheart.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.1k I teaser wc. 140

🌙 starring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been a wild year with Mingyu. You’ve done everything you’d promised; had him as you plus one to Park’s wedding, gone on a date with him to the Speedway, and things had just kicked off from there. The two of you fit so naturally that you’re shocked you’d gone most of your life without him.

You’re now a Speedway girlie, and Park comes with her husband all the time, too. Park was able to let go of the fact that you’d ended up with her celebrity crush, and even she admits that the two of you work very well together.

You’ve made sense of what Mingyu had meant when he said it was a good thing the two of you are different. Because you came into this knowing nothing about cars, it gave him the opportunity to teach you.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.1k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@meowniee - @learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas - @sourkimchi - @stellaoo

[domjaehyun]

match my freak (l.dh)

PAIRING. sure thing!haechan x sure thing!fem!reader GENRE. smut, mild humor CONTENTS. oral (receiving), overstimulation, creampie, breast play, nipple sucking, dirty talk, ear play WORD COUNT. 9.3k  SUMMARY. after the events of sure thing, you and Haechan proceed to dance around each other, with you getting into a small number of situationships and flings in the meantime. however, you’ve always known that you and Haechan could be something real, and you’re not in the mood to deny it for any longer. 

“I know you kinda can’t help it, but can you take it easy on the turns? Haechan’s drink is lowkey dripping and I’m sure you don’t wanna ruin your upholstery.” you call out from the backseat, and Jeno nods, shooting you a thumbs up. upon further inspection of you from the rearview mirror, Jeno sighs.

“you’re gonna show up at Haechan’s house like something out of a wet dream with that little skirt of yours and a complimentary Baja Blast and we’re gonna sit there and watch him paw at you like an animal until someone caves and we witness the beginning of a softcore porno. yippee. fun times with friends.” Jeno mumbles, and you freeze, looking at Jaemin for support, but Jaemin’s just as stunned as you are, mild amusement on his face as he regards your now suddenly candid friend.

“I don’t even know where to start…” you stammer, blindsided. “we were twenty minutes late to see him because of the Taco Bell fiasco, so the Baja Blast was like an apology… and he does not paw at me like an animal—”

“he definitely does when he thinks we’re not looking.” Jaemin interjects, and you wince.

“okay, fine.” you relent. “but I attempt to use discretion!”

“I’m sure you do,” Jeno says with a heavy sigh. “he’s just… whipped.”

“don’t say that like it’s a bad thing!” you retort defensively, and Jeno rolls his eyes.

“of course you don’t think it’s a bad thing. you wear short skirt, Haechan glitches and does whatever you want.”

“what is it with you and my skirts, sir?” you laugh. “this is the second time you mentioned it!”

“it’s tempting! how’s the poor guy gonna keep his head on straight if you’re not even gonna give him a fighting chance?” Jeno exclaims incredulously, and you roll your eyes. “plus, it’s summer, but the night time is not as warm as the daytime… the sun is gone.”

“I’m not, like, dumb, Jeno,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes. “I’m not cold, and Haechan has heating in case I do get chilly.”

“of course he’ll turn the heat on for you in the middle of the summer. but I almost freeze my ass off in december, and he leaves me for dead! I had to huddle my bong for warmth!” Jeno mutters huffily, and Jaemin sighs sympathetically.

“he’s whipped for her; what do you expect?” Jaemin says, and you splutter, turning to Jaemin.

“it’s sweet!” you argue.

“‘it’s sweet,’ she says,” Jeno remarks bitterly. “the man’s down bad with no chance of recovery, and she thinks it’s sweet.”

“hey! stop that, I think it’s really cute that he’s so attentive.” you grouch, and Jaemin rolls his eyes pointedly, turning to look at you fully.

“he’s basically professing his love to you with every little privilege you get, you know that, right?” Jaemin says plainly, and you balk.

“well…”

“well?” he presses with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean, it may have crossed my mind that there’s a reason for the special treatment.” you say slowly, and Jaemin nods just as slowly, making you feel a bit like he thinks you’re dumb.

“so are you gonna stop messing with his mind and give him a chance? or are you gonna let some loser like Jason come in again and prolong the inevitable?” Jaemin says, again, just as slowly and with the patronizing hypnotic nod, but stops at the last question, chin tucked down to regard you through his impossibly long lashes.

“the inevitable is crazy,” you mutter to yourself, but Jaemin hears you. and he is not amused.

“were you gonna lead him on forever? that’s what that’s called, you know.” he scolds you with all the gentle firmness of a friend advocating for both sides.

you frown deeply. “I’m not leading him on.”

“so you like him?” 

“well, yes.” you reply bluntly, as if it was obvious; because, frankly, you thought it was. “why do you two think I keep wearing the short skirts? he loves them.”

“aha!” Jeno exclaims triumphantly. “man, I wish we recorded that.” 

“second time today you boys should’ve been filming,” you remark drily, inspecting your reflection in your phone and fiddling with a stray lash. “can’t keep lobbing you easy ones like this, fellas, you gotta start catching ‘em.”

“you’re really a piece of work,” Jaemin sighs with a fond chuckle. “well, your backseat intervention has come to an end; we’re here.” 

“oh, yes!” you hiss victoriously, moving to exit the vehicle as soon as Jeno parks. Jaemin calls out loudly and sternly, and you freeze, frowning in confusion until he exits the car and opens your door to help you out. “oh. thank you.”

“I’m not your man, but my mother did raise me right, and Haechan’s not here, so.” Jaemin says with a shrug, and you nod slowly, mildly impressed.

“ladies should be beating down your door.” you remark, confused.

“I have high standards… and none of them pass the cat test.” Jaemin explains, and you nod again, now with more understanding.

“I see. well, we’re wasting time out here; let’s go.” you announce before marching into Haechan’s apartment complex and making a beeline for the elevator, pressing the button and waiting with your foot tapping impatiently.

“you’re definitely the ‘he asked for no pickles’ go-getter queen Haechan always dreamed of having,” Jeno chuckles as they come up beside you, and you chuckle.

“are you trying to let me know I’m his alpha?” you joke, and Jeno scowls.

“that… is cursed. don’t ever say that again.” he says sternly, and you frown.

“tough crowd, damn.” you mutter petulantly, and Jaemin rubs your arm comfortingly as the elevator door opens.

“I thought it was funny,” he assures you, and Jeno huffs as you perk up.

“don’t encourage her,” Jeno chides Jaemin, and Jaemin shrugs indifferently.

“I’m on the side of the funniest bit in the room.” he announces plainly, and there’s a moment of silence as the three of you let that sit.

“so if I’m his alpha, should I be pegging him and stuff? I don’t know if I’m into that.” you remark curiously, and Jeno chokes violently on what you would presume to be air or spit while Jaemin bursts into laughter and doubles over in delight. 

“that was so deeply unhinged, I’m not sure if we should even tell Haechan you said it.” Jeno mutters, massaging the spot between his brows.

“you have a headache? I have Advil in my bag.” you supply helpfully, and the doors open just in time for you to dodge Jeno’s lunge for you with a tickled yelp of surprise and glee. “my favorite thing about pissing Jeno off is that I know some part of him wants to try and ground me so bad, but he can’t.” you sing to Jaemin, and he just chuckles, shaking his head.

“you’re a brat. Haechan’s got his hands full.” he confirms, and you smile sweetly as you all come to a stop in front of Haechan’s door. Jaemin reaches out and knocks, and there’s a faint rustling from inside before footsteps get closer to the door and it opens to reveal Haechan standing there, looking delectable and tan in his white t-shirt and gray sweats. “hey, man.” Jaemin greets, and Haechan grins at him, pulling him into a hug before letting him inside.

Jeno steps up next and he and Haechan stare each other down before cracking grins and hugging each other briefly. “get your brat,” Jeno remarks over his shoulder with a thumb jab in your direction as he heads inside, and you gasp in offense.

“I don’t need ‘getting,’” you huff, and Haechan nods in agreement.

“you don’t.” he says sincerely, and you smile, already comforted by his words because you can tell he means them. “you look gorgeous, as usual.” he compliments, and you smile wider, doing a little twirl at Haechan’s behest, and he lets out a wolf-whistle that makes you giggle, Haechan grinning at the sound.

“I got this for you.” you say, handing him the Baja Blast, and his brows raise before he reaches out and takes it, your fingers brushing lightly. 

“I was wondering what took you guys so long to come,” Haechan laments, ushering you inside with a hand resting on the small of your back. “I saw your stories on Instagram about Taco Bell.” he pouts.

“I was craving a Baja Blast,” you say apologetically, and Haechan waves you off immediately.

“that’s totally valid,” he agrees. “one, because you wanted it. and you should get everything you want.” (you refrain from jumping his bones right then, impressively enough.) “two, because it was a Baja Blast, and, three, because you got me one, too.” he finishes, and you nod, pleased, wrapping your arms around his neck for a hug. he wraps his around your waist and you two just stand there for a moment, letting the other’s scent and aura envelop you both until a sense of serenity overtakes you and you gently extract yourself from him.

“see! Jeno lectured me for the sudden detour,” you pout. “I can’t stress how important it is to find people that match your energy,” you state, and Haechan nods firmly in agreement, shooting a glare at an unbothered Jeno who is more focused on his phone than the conversation at hand.

“and your freak.” Haechan adds, and you nod without really hearing him.

“right! and your— excuse me?” you say, blinking rapidly and turning to look at him, and he and Jaemin laugh.

“speaking of freaks,” Jaemin pipes up, “do you want to share the exciting life update that happened before we got here?”

“well, now I have to, because you spoiled it.” you huff, and Jaemin snorts.

“it would’ve come out eventually.” he replies with a shrug.

“what would’ve come out?” Haechan asks, confused as he looks between the two of you.

“yeah, speaking of freaks and relevant life updates,” Jeno chimes in, “Jason just swiped up on my story to tell me that he misses you and to please unblock him.”

“Jason, this, Jason, that; when are you gonna dump that schmuck and get with me?” Haechan huffs, and you laugh but find it more pressing to address Jeno’s statement.

“wh— how did he know I was with you?” you ask, bewildered, barely registering Haechan’s groan of irritation and frustration to your left. 

“he recognized your nail set in the background.” he replies, and you roll your eyes.

“he’s pathetic? I’d pray for him but frankly I don’t care to find the time.” you sigh, and Haechan turns to look at you with growing realization.

“are you two on the outs again? is it my lucky day?” he asks hopefully, and you snort loudly in amusement.

“yes, today’s your lucky day, apparently,” you answer casually and relish in the comical way that Haechan freezes and fixes his gaze on you. “we broke up before I got here.” 

for once too stunned to speak, Haechan forms half words and introductory syllables before finally spluttering out, “you–?”

“well, I dumped him. loudly.” you explain, and his eyes flash with glee.

“truly a spectacle, actually. I think you should have recorded it.” Jaemin chimes in.

“someone did. like 3 different people were filming.” Jeno pipes up, and Jaemin winces while Haechan sits forward in his chair. 

“that’s incredible—that’s so hot—he—people filmed—?” Haechan stammers, and you shrug indifferently, inspecting your nails.

“I have a natural dramatic flair,” you explain naturally, patting Haechan’s knee before standing up. “it tends to turn heads.” you finish with a lingering glance at Haechan over your shoulder before heading to the kitchen to get some water.

from inside of the living room, you can hear Jaemin and Jeno intermittently filling Haechan in on the dramatic breakup speech you delivered to your ex-boyfriend, and Haechan’s cackles of glee with each brutal line delivery. it’s not long before you hear Haechan mutter something about hearing from you, the sound of furniture rustling, and footsteps approaching before you sense him watching you from the doorway of the kitchen. he doesn’t speak for a while, and you’re not even sure he knows you’re aware he’s watching you.

“you having fun staring from over there?” you call out with a small chuckle, setting your glass down before turning to face him.

“time of my life, actually,” he calls back, and you snort. “would love if I could get a little closer, though.” 

“no one’s stopping you,” you say with a playful shrug and a glint in your eye that doesn’t go unnoticed. 

immediately drawing closer, Haechan drums his fingers on the countertop before he speaks. “you know, it’s not easy to get rid of a leech like that,” he remarks matter-of-factly, and you shake your head slowly in agreement.

“you’re right. he started crying.” you reply off-handedly, and Haechan’s eyes look like they might bulge out of his head. 

“what did you do to him?” 

“things I will not repeat because I am a lady first and a crashout second.” you reply demurely, and he snickers loudly with a respectful nod.

“I see. well, for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.” he says sincerely, and you blink up at him with a sweet smile, making him wince and grip the countertop. “careful, now.”

“what do you mean?” you ask, brows furrowing in confusion. 

“Jaemin has so unkindly informed me that we’ve received one of three possible strikes for fucking during the hangout.” Haechan murmurs with a small scoff, and you bite your lip to suppress a laugh. “so we need to be on our best behavior.”

“did they really say that? he was behind the first one, really.” you remark, surprised, and Haechan scoffs.

“I know; he’s such a hypocrite.” Haechan huffs, and you snicker, patting his cheek gently.

“noted. so we need to really mind our p’s and q’s.” you say with a curt nod and a stifled giggle that has Haechan focusing in on you. “well, you, specifically, given that you got the warning and I didn’t.” 

“mhm,” he agrees, eyes drifting to your chest.

“Haechan?”

“minding my p’s,” he mumbles, winding an arm around you and pulling you closer. 

“alright…”

“and my q’s,” he murmurs, trailing his free hand down from your cheek to your chest. 

“you’re so strange,” you chuckle to yourself, but the stirring sensation you feel in your abdomen has always been better at telling the truth than you.

“and dotting my t’s,” haechan mumbles softly, finger now reaching out to press against both of your hardening nipples, persisting past your gasp of surprise to say, “and cross my i’s,” his finger dragging down towards your belly button with intent to venture lower before you stop him with a hand gently wrapped around his wrist. he blinks up at you slowly with an air of impatience and you damn near forget what you were going to say in the first place. 

“you said it backwards,” you point out stiltedly, and he arches an eyebrow in amusement, slowly and subtly moving to cage you against the counter.

“did i?” he muses, eyes flashing with triumph when you move to wiggle free slightly and finally realize you’re pinned in place. “how’s it supposed to go?”

“um, you’re supposed to cross your–” you start, words trailing off as Haechan leans in to tuck his nose between your ear and shoulder, inhaling so deeply, so indulgently, you’d almost swear he was getting another type of high from it. 

“my what?” he mumbles, lips grazing your shoulder, and your responding whimper makes a wicked little chuckle leave his lips before he tilts your head out of the way with gentle nudges to allow himself better access to your neck. “c’mon,” he teases, tapping your thigh gently, “talk to me, baby.”

“cross your t’s,” you mutter out, words twisting into a gasp of surprise when Haechan’s hand slides to your inner thigh, your legs reflexively closing around his hand in response. 

“mhm?”

“and dot your i’s,” you finish, giggling slightly when Haechan wiggles his fingers stuck between your legs. 

“okay, but didn’t you say ‘cross your t’s’?” he asks curiously, and you pause to think before nodding in confirmation. “right, yeah… so why are these crossed now, hm?” he murmurs, twisting his hand between your legs so they’re separated by the width of his palm—simultaneously letting you know that your little leglock had no effect on him—and looking pointedly from his hand up to your eyes. “uncross your legs.”

“you don’t need me to do that,” you point out, gesturing to where his hand has forced your legs apart slightly. “you could uncross them yourself.”

“well, that wouldn’t be very polite, would it, baby?”

“since when are you worried about manners?”

“since a very pretty girl told me to cross my t’s and dot my i’s,” he replies smoothly, and you snort in amusement, pushing at his chest as you both laugh. “and mind my p’s,” he continues, lips back at your ear with such a resonance from the sudden proximity that it makes a shudder travel down your spine, your gasp of surprise ragged with desire as he trails his unencumbered hand up your body to wrap gently around your throat. “and my q’s,” he breathes, tilting your head out of the way to allow him space by your neck as the hand between your legs twists back to being “trapped” between your legs.

“damn, she must be real pretty, then, if she’s turned you into such a gentleman.” you chuckle, but it’s a thin veil obstructing your blatant need for him.

Haechan doesn’t care about any of that. he never has.

“mhm,” he moans against your neck, and the sound alone has you about to cave, unbridled lust turning his mannish groan into a whimper at the end. “so fucking pretty,” he mumbles, pressing heated, heavy kisses down your neck and chest. “and…”

“...and?”

“and I heard she just broke up with the last loser to ever get in my way.” he finishes, pulling back to look at you. 

“wh– huh?” you stammer out, voice raspy and confused, and he just chuckles fondly, brushing hair out of your face.

“you think I enjoyed seeing you date those idiots? liked seeing you tote them around like your charity case of the season—”

“hey!”

“don’t ‘hey’ me when you know good and well I could have been better to you from the beginning.” he huffs, and you roll your eyes but remain silent. “right. I don’t come with nearly as much emotional baggage as those guys did, and you know that.”

“well, no, but–”

“but?” he arches an eyebrow with a devastatingly handsome expression daring you to prove him wrong.

“but you come with the risk of fucking up our friend group if we started and ended anything.”

“who says it’d end?” he blinks at you, on the brink of bewilderment and slightly offended.

“haechan.” your response is flat but amused.

“yes?” he fails to see the humor in it all, actually, now eyeing you expectantly as if waiting for you to explain what seems very obvious to you.

“do not make a marriage joke to me. i just got out of a relationship and getting married would be the wildest—”

“revenge story? comeuppance? you dumped that loser and got married in less than 12 hours.” he points out, and you snicker.

“well, I’m a semi-traditional girl,” you huff, pouting slightly.

“yeah?” he chuckles.

“yeah. I want a ring. and a proposal, and a bridal shower, and a pretty wedding and reception—I want the fanfare of it all.” you sigh dreamily, and Haechan doesn’t say anything for a moment, prompting you to look over at him in confusion that only doubles when he’s just gazing fondly at you, eyes soft and warm. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“because I wanna give you all of that, baby.” he says sincerely, and you blink in surprise, shifting so you can observe him carefully. “the ring, the dress, the wedding, the reception—I could make that happen.”

“in less than 12 hours?” you snort in disbelief, and he narrows his eyes at you but chuckles.

“hey—if you needed it that quickly, I’d move the stars myself to make it happen.” he promises, and your gaze softens when you see nothing but sincerity twinkling in his eyes.

“yeah?” you say, voice soft, coy, and teetering on playful.

“yeah.” he affirms, nodding as he winds his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to gaze into your eyes openly. “but you’re also the type of girl that deserves to get to take her time.”

“most definitely,” you agree, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as your hands stroke up and down his arms and chest. 

“and before I make all of that happen, I’m gonna prove to you that you should have been with me from the beginning.”

“oh, are you?” you’re toying with him verbally, but truthfully, you’re falling, fast, and you hope he can’t see just how hard.

“absolutely. and when I propose, you’re gonna have the prettiest tears twinkling in those eyes, but I won’t be able to wipe them until you say ‘yes,’” he says gently, and your heart clenches with a longing you’ve been ignoring for far too long.

“you…” you say carefully, taking in a deep breath to calm yourself. “are too smooth for my own good.”

“oh, yeah?” he chuckles, a shy smile pulling at the corners of his lips that makes your heart lurch with the exciting realization that his words were a beautiful display of sincerity and vulnerability. 

“yeah,” you confirm with a giggle. “you could be a real ladies’ man.”

“i’m trying to be one specific lady’s man, if you catch my drift.” he says with a playful wiggle of his brows.

“I do, and that was a test, and you passed.” you laugh, delighted, and his face lights up. 

“so you’ll go out with me?” 

“I might if you ask me better than that.” you say with a playful shrug. 

“you’re on.” he murmurs, leaning in close so his forehead presses to yours, nose bumping against yours gently. 

there’s a moment, a breath, maybe, but you two just exist in the space it provides, not kissing, barely moving, just… being. and Haechan almost seals the moment with a kiss, the male looking at your lips for a moment before leaning in, but—

“are you both aware of the implications posed upon you two when you exit our sight and get very, very quiet?” Jaemin’s voice calls from the living room, and you snort loudly as Haechan sucks his teeth. 

“we’re coming out!” you call back, and Haechan grumbles indistinctly under his breath.

“they’re no fun,” Haechan mutters, and you laugh, gently pushing him back. “don’t know why we hang out with them anyway.”

“free weed and camaraderie.” you reply succinctly, and he barks out a laugh, allowing you out of his embrace long enough to maneuver himself behind you with his hands on your hips. “um?”

“lead the way, pretty girl.” he murmurs in your ear from behind, and the surprise of his words and sensation of him being so close has you reacting before you know it, your body leaning into his and your back arching in arousal with a gasp which only makes him slip an arm around your waist and pin you to him, whispering in your ear, “actually, I think we should get out of here before you get us in trouble.”

you can barely hide the sheepish giggle that bubbles in you as you feel his length pressing against your ass, a clear sign of your effect on him.

“I think you already are,” you tease with a sing-song lilt before leaning back and pressing a kiss to his cheek, lunging forward just quickly enough to dodge Haechan’s anticipated attempt to grab you and rushing into the living room with a laugh.

as you take your spot on the couch with a secretive series of giggles bubbling out of you, Jeno clears his throat pointedly, drawing your attention.

“you are incredibly giggly for someone who just got out of a relationship.” Jeno remarks suspiciously, and you roll your eyes but Jaemin beats you to a response.

“I’d argue she’s incredibly giggly because she just ended that relationship.” he counters, and you nod emphatically.

“period.” you agree, and Haechan plops down beside you—if you can even call it that. “sir.”

“hm?”

“...must you sit right in this very position. on me and my leg?”

“I mean, I wanna sit right here.” he says, with that twinkle in his eye that tells you he’s about to be so difficult about this. 

but you are too. “I am not moving and that is on feminism.”

“on feminism?” Haechan’s eyes practically bulge out of their sockets, and you grin, pleased you caught him.

“you’re manspreading!”

“oh, he definitely is, actually.” Jeno remarks.

“full on manspreading techniques being deployed right there, folks.” Jaemin comments, and Haechan huffs, glowering at your friends.

“whose side are you all on, anyway?” he asks gruffly.

“the bit.” Jaemin answers, Jeno nodding in agreement.

“fine! we can share.” Haechan grumbles before moving you around—so quickly and firmly that it’s a bit arousing—so he’s sitting on the couch and you’re perched on his lap. 

all you can do is blink several times in surprise. “oh.”

“that was my goal, by the way, but thank you for putting your little bratty spin on it as usual.” he murmurs in your ear, and you snicker mischievously. 

“you’re welcome.” 

the responding growl he lets out in your ear sets your body alight with desire, and you curl back to get more comfortable in his embrace, trying to hide that some part of you is now craving more of his touch. 

whether he sees your need or not, he meets it head on, pulling you closer until your ass is directly on his lap, his length stirring in its confines at the sudden stimulation. the sigh of contentment you let out sounds dangerously like a purr and it’s almost like it awakens something in Haechan, the male humming lowly in his chest, almost like a warning to you, and the message is clear—don’t push it.

but you love to push it. so much so that every time you or Haechan shift or move in any way, you subtly shift or roll your hips downward so you rut against him in the most agonizingly miniscule way possible. and it only takes about four or five of these before Haechan’s fingers are digging into your hips as yet another warning grunt sounds from his throat, your toes curling at the danger laced in the sound.

“what do you think you’re doing?” he murmurs in your ear slowly, carefully.

“getting comfortable.” you reply as innocently as possible. “why, are you not comfortable?”

“you could say that,” he grunts before—

“did you make it twitch like that?” you gasp softly, and he nods, grinning.

“it does other tricks too. wanna see?” he wiggles his brows and you gasp, smacking his chest and falling into laughter. 

“you’re unwell.” you snicker, rolling your eyes.

“at least i tried to behave. you’re on straight demon time.” he grouches, and you shrug with a soft hum. “look at you—not even trying to deny it.”

“in my defense, you started it in the kitchen.”

“you started it when you said you dumped that schlep.” 

“you started it when you said to get with you instead.”

“you started it when you walked in my life looking and talking all sweet like you do.” he snaps back, and you’re stunned into momentary silence, blinking rapidly as you try to come up with a response. “right.” he finishes with a know-it-all smirk, and you huff, frowning.

“it’s not my fault; I didn’t do it on purpose.” you complain, and he purses his lips in a sympathetic pout that mirrors your own before he chuckles and shakes his head in defeat.

“you’re right, baby, it’s not your fault. you’re too sweet for our own good.”

“our?”

“mine because I can’t help but want a little taste every time you’re nearby,” he purrs in your ear, and delight drips down your back, tingles and tremors following in its wake. “and yours because you’re gonna have to put up with me all over you,” he stresses the syllable so deliciously that your eyelids flutter, “just for being so damn sweet.” he finishes with a patronizing pout in his voice that both thrills and instills challenge in you.

“fuck,” you breathe out weakly, and you hear his grin before he laughs, teeth playfully nipping at your earlobe.

“you good?” he teases, and you narrow your eyes slightly in challenge before nodding resolutely.

“never better.” you reply back in a murmur.

“we’ll see about that,” he says in a half-grunt, half-chuckle. “you know I love a challenge.”

“do you, now?” you hum softly.

“mhm,” he sighs dreamily in your ear, fingers fluttering gently up and down your side, not to tickle but to tease. “love when my pretty girl gives me a hard time.”

“yeah?” you ask, half-goading him on, half-engrossed in the melodic, sultry cadence of his voice.

“yeah,” he agrees with a breathy chuckle. “makes it even better when I make you fall apart.” his voice shifting towards the end to a slight rasp, you breathe in sharply in surprise, and he licks his lips. “on my fingers… on my tongue… on my c–”

“say no more words right now!” you whisper-yell, eyes wide as you cover his mouth. “at once!” you urge when he pushes past your hand to speak, eyes bright and glinting with mischief. “you’re crazy for that.” you mutter, cheeks aglow with heat. he wiggles his brows at you playfully before he moves to speak again and you point a stern finger at him. “behave.”

he rolls his eyes but nods, prompting you to drop your hand from his mouth. “all I know is you loved that.” 

“you don’t—what do you—how could you possibly know that?” you splutter, and he just shoots you a smug little grin in response. “say more words! right now!”

“it’s all in your eyes, baby. they never lie to me.” he informs you, and you balk, blinking rapidly to collect yourself. “the way they widen when I say something that shocks you, the little glint of excitement when it turns you on, and the way your eyes focus on my lips after—like you don’t even know you’re doing it.” he says slowly, speaking with clear lip movements. “like right now.”

you sit up straight in a huff and cross your arms, turning to face Jaemin and Jeno, who have thankfully taken up conversation amongst themselves in the meantime.

“hey, friends, what are we talking about over here?” you ask. 

“Jeno got a delivery order just now and it’s from his little boo thing—ow!” Jaemin blurts out before Jeno smacks him on the arm.

“Boo thing? Jaemin, say more right now.” you press, and Jaemin rubs his arm while glowering at an equally sulky Jeno.

“Jeno’s totally into this girl; friend of a college friend, they work together, yadda, yadda. She always hits him up super late and they smoke some of the stash together and flirt it up—oh, shut up, there’s no way she’s not flirting, dumbass.” Jaemin elaborates.

“Yeah, it definitely sounds like she’s flirting.” you agree, and Jeno perks up hopefully.

“or she’s in it for free weed.” Haechan counters, and you turn and glower at him. “I’m just saying!”

“does she get free weed?” you ask Jeno, and he frowns slightly.

“she gets a discount.” he answers slowly, and Haechan groans while you and Jaemin nod encouragingly.

“that’s good! that’s promising,” you assure him. “do you guys talk about, like, regular stuff when you smoke?”

“well, it always starts out regular and then it gets deeper; I don’t know if it’s the weed or the fact that it’s at night or that I just feel so comfortable with her, but we start talking about the craziest, deepest shit.” Jeno sighs, and you coo fondly.

“that’s so sweet,” you lilt, and Haechan chuckles. “hush, you. Jeno, you should ask if she wants to hang out sometime. do the delivery tonight and ask her!”

“you think so?” Jeno says, eagerness creeping into his voice, and you nod encouragingly.

“definitely. when you guys get hungry, offer to take her somewhere to eat; your treat.” you suggest, and he nods slowly, eyes rapidly moving like he’s committing your words to memory. 

“okay… okay. I got this.” he mutters nervously, quickly sending off a message in his phone before locking it and standing up, tucking his phone in his back pocket.

“good luck! let me know how it goes!” you cheer excitedly as he heads out the door and he shoots you a brief thumbs up as he grabs his jacket before the door shuts behind him. 

“and then there were three.” Jaemin remarks slowly. 

“then there were three.” you echo, and Haechan whistles awkwardly, only stopping with a wince when you pinch his leg.

“I can read the room; Haechan wants me to leave so you two can suck face and do all sorts of things I don’t want to think about because it would defile my memory of you both.” Jaemin sighs dramatically, and when you go to speak to comfort him, Haechan shushes you, gesturing for you to let him continue. “I just realized I need papers for my shit anyway, so maybe Jeno can give me a ride to the smoke shop where I get deals.”

“I’m sure Haechan has papers here—” you start.

“I have none; I’ll call Jeno right now and tell him to come get you.” Haechan interjects, his finger already pressing the dial button on Jeno’s contact page. 

you look over at Jaemin, who has a knowing smirk on his face that lets you know that he’s very aware of what’s occurring right now, even if you previously weren’t.

“...okay, great. he’ll be out in a second.” Haechan finishes the call with Jeno and looks at Jaemin expectantly. “he’s downstairs.”

“thanks,” Jaemin chirps, waving goodnaturedly. “now you two can suck face without assaulting my eyes and getting a second strike.” 

“thanks,” Haechan drawls with a roll of his eyes. 

“good night, Jaemin.” you say sweetly, and he grins at you.

“have a good night,” he says in a playful lilt. as he’s exiting, he calls out, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” before the door shuts behind him.

“y’know what’s funny?” you chuckle, and Haechan hums distractedly but attentively enough to let you know he’s listening. “I don’t think there’s much Jaemin wouldn’t do.”

“yeah, he basically just told us to go crazy.” Haechan muses, and when you look over at him, he seriously looks like he’s considering it.

“don’t get any ideas?” you laugh incredulously, and his gaze shifts to you so slowly, predatory, almost, that a chill runs down your spine in a deliciously tingling sensation.

“can’t help it. we’re all alone, finally… and you look as good as you do… and you’re all pretty sitting here on my lap… I could just do this,” he murmurs, tilting your chin down to ghost his lips against yours. “or this,” he hums, dotting soft kisses down your jaw to your neck.

you sigh, content, and tilt your head to allow him better access. he wastes no time kissing as much of your neck as you’ve revealed to him, lips reverently tracing patterns over your skin that his tongue brings to life. 

“what if I did this?” he murmurs, one hand moving to your lap to slip between your thighs, and he chuckles when your knees shift to part instantly, his fingers venturing further to stroke at the dampening seat of your tights and underwear. “you know something?”

“hm?” your voice barely squeaks out in time, but you need to hear him speak, so you persist until it does.

“I love when you’re a little challenge for me,” he muses softly, fingers rhythmically stroking against the seat of your tights. “but I love just as much when my pretty baby just offers herself to me.”

your breathing quickens when you look up at him to see he’s already watching you, eyes intense and fixated on your expression. 

“so difficult to get ahold of, so tricky to pin down, but when you finally give in just a bit and give me a little taste?” he pauses, looking down at the space between your bodies and, when you follow his gaze, you’re surprised to see your hand clutching at his shirt to pull him closer, the body part seemingly having acted on its own. you look up from your hand to meet his gaze at the same time that he looks up at you, and the fire blazing in his eyes has a heat of your own brewing in your cheeks. 

he leans closer, head tilting slowly to the side, lips gently parting to whisper, “why would I ever stop?” before your lips connect. a small whimper of relief sounds out when your lips part to take his tongue between them, the muscle stroking into your mouth gently and playfully with lingering flicks and pulling back to trace and lick at your bottom lip. he groans, the sound laced with desire, and pulls you to him, gripping you firmly enough to maneuver you so that you’re straddling his lap, and his hands drop down to where your ass and your thighs meet, cupping the flesh there and kneading with an intentionality bred from reverence.

he pulls you back down for a kiss by yanking your body forward, letting you topple clumsily onto his waiting lips, the both of you giggling on impact, but his hands move up your body slowly to caress your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks fondly as he deepens the kiss, a soft sigh leaving him as his fingers curl at the back of your neck and pull you closer to him, his lips devouring every moan and whimper that you let out with insatiable greed, an almost blinding need to consume, to indulge in the taste of you.

you let him indulge, of course, and you do so happily, as every kiss, every breath he steals from you adds fuel to the flame burning bright in your belly. he pulls you in endlessly, even when you think you might not be able to breathe—his kisses are ensnaring, all-consuming, mind, body, spirit, and you’re wound up helplessly at his mercy, but you can’t say you mind.

he’s just begun kissing down your neck when a moment of clarity hits you, and you have to make something clear.

“I just realized something.” you say, sitting up and looking at Haechan. with his desire-driven dizzy expression, it almost breaks your heart to shift his gears like that, but he recovers quickly, blinking several times before speaking.

“shoot.” his voice is bordering on husky, unused from the time spent kissing, and almost too arousing to continue with the initial line of questioning.

“you said it was lame that Jeno gave his boo thing a discount on weed.”

“I did, yes.” he says, nodding.

“but, Haechan… you gave me free weed. literally every time.” 

“well, yeah, but guys typically aren’t supposed to be that down bad in the plug industry. it could have been really bad for business so it was actually a personal testament to how whipped I am for you.” he explains casually, and you can’t help but giggle, tickled by his candor.

“as well as to my personal integrity that I didn’t take advantage of the free weed or the adorable bleeding heart that came with it, free of charge.” you reply playfully, and he laughs, nodding before his gaze drops to your lips and he wets his own slowly, leaning in just a bit closer. 

“aren’t you just the sweetest?” he muses.

“you know I am,” you reply, feigning confusion. “why even ask me that?”

“mm, maybe I need a little reminder,” he murmurs, hands moving to your hips and repositioning you faster than you can process; one moment you were on his lap, and the next, your back is against the arm of the couch, your legs are splayed apart on the cushions, and Haechan is seated perfectly between your knees.

“oh, shit.” you mumble, dazed, and he lets out a low chuckle as he gazes up at you.

“why don’t we get these out of the way, hm? as sexy as they are, I think you’d hate if I ripped them.” Haechan says, pinching at your decorative fishnet tights, and you snicker with a nod.

“I would definitely hate that.” you agree, shifting to lift your hips, and Haechan pulls them down and off, turning the fabric over in his fingers curiously. 

“you sure? I think they’d look kinda sick.” he remarks thoughtfully, and you suck your teeth in amusement and mild impatience. 

“we can play Fashion Designer later,” you say with a patronizing pat on his cheek, and his eyelids flutter closed before they reopen to reveal his darkened gaze trained intently on you. 

“I think we’ll be busy later.” he dismisses you offhandedly and settles onto his stomach, tucking your thighs over his shoulders. 

“busy doing wha—oh.” you ask, voice cutting off into a gasp as his tongue swipes over your puffy lips through the thin fabric of your underwear. 

“guess.” his reply is throaty but clear all the same, all authoritative, barely any teasing lilt; this was no playful remark—it was an order. his lips attach themselves to your clit through the fabric, sucking and kissing and nipping, and your moan catches in your throat, a choked gasp emitting from you instead as his tongue enters the mix, swirling and flicking at the perking button.

“shit, Haechan—” you swear under your breath in surprise, propping yourself up on your forearms to watch him better.

“yeah, you like that, baby?” he grunts, looking up at you before flicking at your clit rapidly with his tongue and laughing wickedly when you cry out. “mm, yeah? feels good when I flick it like that?”

“yeah,” you whimper, and he grins.

“I should do that again, then, huh?” he muses, and before you know it, he’s pinning you down to the couch with a forearm braced over your hips and his tongue is ravishing your core, effortlessly teasing and touching your clit so much through the thoroughly damp fabric of your underwear that a climax bubbles in your abdomen surprisingly quickly. 

“holy–I think I’m close,” you gasp out in a warning, and he looks up at you, eyes alight with desire.

“come on, baby.” he urges you gently before returning his mouth to your core with a muffled, “I know you wanna.” 

with your climax building to a crescendo of ocean waves in your ears, you let go, the dam bursting, the coil springing loose—and Haechan rides with you through every wave, every undulation of ecstasy, mouth held fast on your core and tongue flicking so rapidly, so incessantly, that you barely get a moment of reprieve. it’s not until you’re shoving him off with a shudder of overstimulation that you get a second to breathe, throwing an arm over your face and sucking in large gulps of air.

in your recovery, you fail to notice Haechan gently—or surreptitiously—lifting your hips to pull your underwear, now soiled with arousal and spit, off of your legs and drop them beside you two on the floor. it takes Haechan kissing up from your inner knee to your core once more and feeling the unhindered warmth of his breath on your slick folds to realize the layer’s been removed, and by then, Haechan’s mouth is exploring your bare core and you can’t seem to think about much else.

“fuck—Haechan, not there—!” you cry out as he teases your clit again with the tip of his tongue. 

“mm, no? thought you liked that,” he mumbles back cheekily, words muffled with a mouthful of you.

“not right now!” you half-whisper, half-shudder, and he laughs.

“want more gentle?” he hums patronizingly sweetly, and you nod. he stops flicking at your clit and lies his tongue flat on your clit, gently rolling it around and massaging it. 

you let out a shaky sigh of relief and nod in approval, the tensing in your abdomen lessening somewhat. his tongue keeps massaging at your clit, taking small breaks to drag up and down your folds with heavy, wet strokes, keeping your core slick with a mix of your arousal and his saliva, and to top it all off, he’s groaning and moaning into your folds like he’s getting closer to cumming than you are from all of this.

slowly, your body gets accustomed to the pleasure and starts to match his rhythm, your hips rolling down just as Haechan’s tongue pushes up to make a kaleidoscopic burst of pleasure streamline through your body. “that’s it, baby,” he urges you. “ride my tongue, pretty girl.”

“fuck, baby, I’m gonna—again—” you gasp out, and he nods eagerly, arms locking around your thighs in preparation.

“that’s what I want, baby, give it to me.” he grunts, and a crescendo of breathy moans and desperate pants fills the room as your next high builds to a peak. “fuck, all of it, baby, keep going—” he urges you, coaxes more from you as your hips lift off of the couch and your fingers curl around the nearest pillow. “don’t hold back—”

“can’t—”

“don’t say that, baby, you can give me a little more—” 

“can’t—”

“yes, you can—”

and it’s not long after when you tap out, but it is after your body slumps to your legs dangling off of the couch haphazardly as Haechan shifts to his knees on the floor to continue. 

and it is shortly after you proceed to release all over Haechan’s tongue in a gush of arousal (which Haechan will later proudly coin “your first squirt”).

your body lies immobile, legs slumped and chest heaving as Haechan licks his lips slowly, indulgently, and far too sinfully for you to lay eyes on without having to look away.

“think you can give me one more?” he asks hopefully, but the way his brow raises in challenge as he palms at his length tells you he fully intends to find out.

“yeah, I can,” you exhale slowly, a breathless laugh leaving you as you push yourself up to prepare yourself for the next round. you stop when you realize Haechan’s staring at you with a shy-bubbly-feeling of awe and admiration that makes you falter, looking at him in confusion “why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m trying to figure out if it’s too early to say I love you.” he admits plainly, and you gasp in surprise, eyes widening. “too soon?”

“Haechan—we didn’t even start dating—” you can’t help but laugh, the dizzying post-climax high making it all funnier than it is.

“I’ve known you well before we started dating, though,” he points out in a huff, and you pause, your brain struggling to process his words fast enough to respond. 

“baby, we haven’t actually started dating, though.” you say gently. “I told you I might say yes if you asked me better than the first time you half-asked, half-assumed.”

“well, damn.” he frowns. “I don’t take it back, though. I meant it and I’ll say it again when I think you’re ready to hear it.”

“that’s a good plan,” you assure him, and you pull him down to face level to press a kiss to his forehead. when you release him, his cheeks are a lovely shade of red, and a sweetly dumbfounded look is on his face. “you’re so cute when you blush.” you say fondly, and he rolls his eyes with a scoff that fails to hide his bashful laugh.

“don’t call me cute, I just made you squirt.” he mumbles petulantly, and you barely stifle your chuckle in time.

“my bad,” you concede, hands up in surrender. “I’m excited to say it back one day.” you say sincerely, and he blinks at you, momentarily stunned. “what?”

“you can’t just say things like that,” he mutters under his breath as he pulls you closer, lower bodies entwining eagerly as his tip meets your folds and, with gentle probing, your arousal-slicked entrance. “fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“that’s rich coming from the guy who just dropped the L bomb real early in the almost-a-relationship stage.” 

“I can’t wait to wipe that little smirk off your face,” he groans with a little growl of frustration that has you fluttering internally.

“yeah?” you taunt him, and he chuckles, locking his eyes on you as he slowly pushes into you, a wicked grin on his face as your jaw drops open and you gasp loudly.

he leans over you, lips pressed to your ear to grunt, “yeah,” with all the smug confidence and audacity of someone who just proved their point. “now be good and take this dick, alright?”

“uh-huh—” you manage to get out as he builds up a rhythm of deep, fluid strokes into you. 

“that’s right,” he coos sweetly, chuckling darkly. “just take it.” his thrusts speed up slightly until his hips are slapping against yours at a rapid pace that has your head spinning with each inward thrust, and all you can do is hold on for dear life.

his hands roughly jerk up your body, shoving your shirt out of the way to reveal your breasts and he groans at the sight of them in your lacy black bra. “god, I love these,” he grunts, thrusts slowing as he lowers his head to shower the swell of your breasts and your cleavage in heated, sloppy kisses. 

you hum softly, pleasantly surprised by the attention. “they love you, too.” you say playfully, and he looks up at you with a brow raised. 

“yeah?” he asks, and by the way his chest starts to rise and fall deeper and more heavily, you suspect your comment was far from innocuous and playful to him.

“mhm,” you say with a small nod, and his eyes flash with something that stirs excitement in your belly. 

“then maybe I should give ‘em a kiss, don’t you think?” his voice is almost husky with desire, and you’re momentarily stunned into silence by how quickly his words stir something in your core, your walls clenching around him so forcefully that he hisses in surprise before chuckling darkly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

he pulls your breasts out of the cups and immediately latches onto one nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud slowly while looking up at you with an intent gaze. you whimper softly and shift under him, and his free hand finds your clit, starting to toy with the button as he sucks and licks at your breasts. 

even through the occasional jolts of sensitivity when Haechan’s fingers hit your clit just the too-familiar way from a couple of minutes ago, you feel more pleasure building in your abdomen and tensing throughout your body. his tongue laps and flicks at your nipples in the most ravenous, lewd way and something about his raw unbridled attraction to you has you at the edge before you expect it.

“oh, shit, I’m close—” you whisper, surprised, and he chuckles, following after you as you reflexively start to shy away from his touch. 

“where you going, baby? don’t you wanna cum?” he teases, body pinning yours in place as you cry out weakly as the pleasure builds.

“yes, but—” you start to babble, but Haechan kisses you, lips stealing the words from your mouth and distracting your mind completely.

“before I make you cum, answer this for me,” he proposes, and at your sound of coherent confusion, he looks you directly in the eyes and says, “will you be my girlfriend?”

your jaw drops, and your eyes widen, your brain blanking so suddenly that words completely fail you, a giddy smile overtaking your face as you nod eagerly.

“yeah?” he says with a grin, fingers still working at your clit in that mind-melting manner that makes it hard for you to string words into proper sentences. “need to hear you say it, baby.”

“yes,” you gush immediately, and he nods encouragingly, still looking at you expectantly. “yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.” 

“again,” he insists, “just the ‘yes,’ part.” 

“yes,” you cry out when his lips latch onto your neck. “yes, yes, yes, right there, yes—”

“you’re mine?”

“yes—”

“all mine?”

“yes, fuck, fuck—!”

“you gonna cum all over my fingers?”

“mm—fuck—yes—shit, I’m gonna—”

“cum, baby, let it go.” he urges you as you fall apart around him, body melting into a puddle of pleasure that he continues to lap at like you’re made of ambrosia and nectar. dotting kisses up from your belly button to your chest to your neck and jaw and then, persisting past a very ticklish giggle from you, your ear. 

“stop—it tickles—” you attempt to squirm away, but he holds you in place with a low chuckle that has your toes curling.

“yeah, but it feels good, doesn’t it?” he teases before flicking his tongue over your ear. you squeal and wriggle away to the best of your ability, but he holds your jaw in place and brings his lips to your ear before starting to resume slow strokes into you. “I know it does,” he coos teasingly.

“shut up, fuck—” you cry out, and he laughs, trailing his tongue along the shell of your ear. “a fucking menace.”

“takes one to know one.” he retorts, and you gasp, surprised but amused. “you’re my menace and I’m yours.”

“mm, I like the way that sounds.” you coo sweetly, and he groans, his head tipping forward to rest on your shoulder. “you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

“fuck, say that again.” he all but whimpers, and you nod immediately.

“you’re all mine, and I’m all yours.” you say slowly so he can hear every syllable, and his thrusts speed up inside of you as he starts to chase his high. “you can fill me up, baby,” you assure him, and he lets out a choked cry of pleasure before biting down on your neck and pistoning his hips into yours quicker. 

“shit—fuck, you’re perfect—shit—gonna fill you up, baby—” he groans, and you nod encouragingly, tracing patterns on his back with your nails. 

“mhm,” you hum sweetly, “it’s okay, baby, go ahead.” his thrusts slowly come to a stop as he stiffens inside your walls and releases into you. his mouth finally seems to remember what to do, teeth releasing your skin and instead pressing loving kisses along your neck and shoulder. 

“y’know something?” Haechan mumbles against your skin. “if Jeno and Jaemin got girlfriends, maybe they wouldn’t be so miserable and up our asses all the time.”

“Haechan!” you laugh, surprised. “why would you say that?”

“because now that you’re my girlfriend, I can’t imagine ever wanting to be a dick again.” he admits, and you burst out laughing.

“so, before we started dating—”

“I was voluntarily a dick at times to people, yes.” he nods, and you laugh harder, pushing at his chest to let you up for air. “I was yearning, it’s not my fault!”

“everyone knows you can’t be held legally reprehensible for anything that occurs while yearning.” you say matter-of-factly, and Haechan looks at you with wonder in his eyes. “what?”

“you make me sound smart.” he says happily. “you’re so hot and I’m the luckiest boyfriend in the world.”

“either you’re lovebombing me or I just stumbled into the best relationship of my life.” you chuckle, and he grins.

“definitely the second one.” he agrees, and you smile widely as you meet his lips for a kiss.

—

ta da! hope you enjoyed!! please consider supporting my work by leaving feedback, joining my patreon family, or tipping via KF, CA, VM, or my amazon wishlist!

[hwaflms]

HAPPY NOW? ★ [ j.jh ]

your family has been pressuring you for months to bring your boyfriend, jaehyun, over for dinner, and you think it’s really sweet that they like him so much. the only problem is that your “boyfriend” jaehyun, hates you.

———————————————————————

[☆] PAIRING. ex!jaehyun x f!reader

[☆] GENRE. angst, smut, fluff | fake dating?, exes to ??? au

[☆] WC. 19.9k (i don’t even know)

[☆] WARNINGS. angst, reader has anxiety, mentions of anxiety attacks, fighting, reader be lying a lot, reader has a little sister, crying, reader is kind of a dumbass, explicit content (piv smut), unprotected sex (don’t do this gang!), fingering, sex in public kinda, pls lmk if i forgot anything!!

[☆] NOTES. i’m so fucking annoyed with tumblr it’s not letting me insert images properly UGH this took me over 2 hours to upload man 🗣️ im pretty proud of this one ‼️ idek how it got this long but it’s my longest fic yet and it’s been sitting in my drafts for ages until i finally got the inspo to write it :p i want jaehyun so bad it’s not even funny tbh but anyway PLS GIVE ME FEEDBACK/A REBLOG LITERALLY ANYTHING IS APPRECIATED <33

———————————————————————

six months.

you haven't seen this door in six months.

it's funny because, this was a door you used to push open and walk through every other day, yet now you stand on the opposite side of it, unsure as to whether you should even be thinking of knocking.

your hand is raised to the door, shaped like a fist but you make no move to actually knock. you were aware that you still had time to bail out of this, that you could turn on your heel and make your merry way back to your sad little house and go back to pretending you're happy with the choice you made six months ago.

or you could just do what you came all the way here to do.

the weather seems to be in your favour, at least. the sun shines radiantly, making the temperature warm, but not too warm, and a cool breeze travels through the air in short intervals. the summer had begun early, birds chirping in their habitual singsong way and wild bougainvillea already flowering in various shades of pink and lilac. usually when the day starts off with good weather, the rest of it follows suit, and thus your day is made better. hopefully, this is the case for you today.

pausing for a short, morale-boosting intake of air, you tighten your fist and knock, knock, knock on the mahogany door, immediately regretting your decision as you feel your stomach churn and plummet. a good ten seconds pass, and you hear no reply nor movement from the inside of the house, and part of you is relieved because that means he may not be home.

more than happy to do a 180° and skip along joyously back to the metro that would take you home, your feet begin to make for that trip but your mind decides against it. you know that you are being overly dramatic, but even with being aware of this, your heart rate does not slow down one bit. you also know that what you've come here to do is more than just selfish, its pathetic and rather embarrassing. it's also a hugely unsavoury request, and if your roles were reversed, you'd most definitely laugh in his face and shut the door.

finally somewhat making up your mind with a quiet groan, you raise your clenched fist and rap against his front door again in a set of three. you nervously shift your weight from your right to your left foot, then back to your right and then once again to your left, the anxiety and anticipation not allowing you to stand still and relax, thinking that if he doesn't answer this time, you really will just return home.

"hold on, i'm coming!", a hurried, muffled voice calls from inside the house and you don't think your heart has ever beaten this fast in your life. not even during the one time you ran a marathon to prove a point to your friend chenle, and while you did show him that you didn't only run to get away from spiders, your body took its own sweet time to recover from that.

now you hear footsteps approaching the door from the opposite side of it, and you don't think you can handle anymore of this tortuous, build up of a wait because you are quite literally one step away from calling it a day and just sprinting your way out of there, just like you did on the last few metres of the aforementioned marathon, and you know he's nearing the door because the footsteps are getting clearer and clearer, and soon he's going to open the door, take one look at you and just slam the door right in your face, but not before spewing verbal explosives at you, which would be totally deserved since he has every right to just spit on you and tell you how you're a terrible, downright horrible human being completely unworthy of forgiveness and-

"sorry for making you wait so long, i was-"

if your heart rate was at its maximum speed before, now it just stopped.

standing in front of you, in the flesh, was the man who's heart you broke six months ago.

jaehyun had just about opened his door in a way that his body was sticking halfway out of it, but he was now frozen in that position, neither in nor out, just stuck there looking like he was contemplating his next move. he adorned a loose, white shirt that clung to his defined shoulders and chest, paired with a pair of red plaid pants with a patch of some different material stitched just above where his knee was. you'd recognise those pants just about anywhere, having worn them a number of times and being the cause of that strange patch with mismatched material (you'd tried to balance a pot of steaming hot ramen on your knee in order to move something, resulting in it causing a burn in the pant).

his attire tells you that he was either just about to eat breakfast, in the process of eating breakfast, or about to finish breakfast; jaehyun was not an early riser and he liked to take his time getting ready for the day.

apart from his slightly changed hair, jaehyun looks the same as he did before, if not better. his once shorter, straight, brown hair, was now a darker kind of black and longer in a silky, mullet-y, layered sort of way, the mullet part stopping just above where his shirt met his neck and the front bits falling on to his face in thin, soft wisps.

everything about the man was captivating and entrancing, but if you had to pick a specific feature that really takes the cake, it would have to be his eyes. his eyes, deep-set and fierce, always gave the impression that he was cold or unapproachable, whereas in reality, he was the opposite. as striking as they may be, they always carried a certain warmth to them.

while they still held the same intensity to them, the warmth was missing as he looked straight at you now. after the brief moment of confusion when he first opened the door dissipated, the familiarity had sunk in, and his expression now was more or less unreadable, but you still tried to make out what he was thinking and feeling- was it shock? anger? maybe even disgust?

"okay, are you going to just stand there or are you going to say something?"

you think it was largely a combination of the last two. in all your fidgeting and gawking, you'd forgotten to actually speak to the man who's door you'd just knocked on, leaving him standing there wordless and confused, an eyebrow raised as he waited for you to open your mouth.

you try to do so, so many words wanting to tumble out your mouth but an invisible gate seems to block it, so now you're just stood still with your mouth opening and closing soundlessly, looking like an idiot.

c'mon y/n, fucking say something, anything-

"how have you been?", is what you decide to go with to break the silence in the end, an awkward smile plastered on to your face. you realise before the sentence is even fully out of your mouth that that would be a really weird thing to start off with, seeing as you and jaehyun have had absolutely zero contact for six months, and are obviously not on the most wonderful terms.

jaehyun's eyebrows furrow, a look of clear disbelief on his face as he clutches his door handle a little tighter. he looks away with a sarcastic smile, shaking his head before turning back to look you dead in the eye. oh, he's going to slam the door on you, you just know it-

"really? 'how have you been'?", he questions incredulously, licking his bottom lip while an exasperated smile plays at them. funnily enough, his response is somewhat relieving to your pitiful self, because you weren't even expecting to hear a reply to what you said, you figured he'd just walk away. you would've. "we haven't seen each for six months since we broke up and 'how have you been' is the best you've got?"

you wince apologetically and bite your lip, playing with your fingers nervously as he quite literally stares you down, irritation written all over his face.

he waits a couple more beats for you to break the tense silence and speak but you are inwardly (and outwardly) struggling to word your thoughts, so he simply scoffs and backs away to return inside.

"okay wait, i didn't tell my family that we broke up and they keep pressuring me to bring you home for the holidays, so i would really like if you'd pretend you don't hate me and come with me."

you don't even want to open your eyes to witness his reaction to your blurted little confession, so you merely stand, frozen in place with your eyes squeezed shut tightly. a couple seconds pass yet you don't hear a door slam, a good sign, so you take that as an affirmative to open your eyes.

he doesn't say anything, or do anything either really, he just leans against his doorframe with another indecipherable expression. this irks you even though you know you have no right to feel irked, but the fact that you once had the ability to know what he was thinking and now don't bothers you to the core. plus, it leaves you feeling unsure as to whether to continue. he might just start laughing at you manically or angrily tell you to get off his property like some bitter, 60-year-old man, and either of these scenarios would be completely fair of him to do.

the heavy realisation that your request sounded absolutely delusional and conceited dawns upon you, and something about his irksome expression makes you feel like you should keep talking. "you have literally every right to just tell me to fuck off, and i don't even expect an answer, i don't really know why i even came here, oh my god- this is so fucking stupid, i'm so fucking stupid and honestly i don't know why you're still standing here listening to me ramble-"

"i need to get ready then. give me ten minutes."

✧ ──────── ✧ ──────── ✧

the front door you're stood at now holds a very different ambience to the previous one. while jaehyun's was quiet and peaceful, the front door to your parents house reveals that the inside is just bustling with activity. the chorus of kate bush's 'running up that hill' plays faintly from behind the door, so you figured that your dad must have brought out his old record player from the dusty attic.

jaehyun stands beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of his light grey hoodie that you feel he must be boiling in, because you're wearing a black tank top with some loose cargoes that you think you might have drenched with sweat.

the sweat would be from the burning heat, but also from the agitation you're really starting to feel. there are so many different ways this dinner could go. what if jaehyun suddenly tells them the truth? then everyone in the room would hate you, and rightly so. you don't want to have to explain to your parents why you broke up with him; it's a stupid fucking reason, if you can even call it that, and it made you completely miserable. how were you supposed explain to your little sister that you and jaehyun aren't together anymore? you suppose relationships are a totally foreign concept to her young mind, but you were sure that she knew you and jaehyun loved each other very much. and you knew she loved jaehyun very much.

he does not look at you, instead choosing to really focus on the christmas themed welcome mat that your parents put out during the winter of '09 and never bothered to change. how he even agreed to come here with you, you don't know, but to say you're grateful would be an understatement.

"you still have time to back out, you know.", you mumble softly, trying to give him one more chance to escape, but he doesn't even spare you a glance, shaking his head and squinting at the door.

"let's just get this over with."

with a small sigh, your raise your hand to press your parents doorbell, the embarrassingly loud 'ding dong' ringing out from behind the door. "oh, that must be her!", you hear the muffled voice of your father speak from the inside, making a slight smile form on your lips.

within a couple seconds, you hear the sound of the muted metal bolt as your dad struggles to open the door to let you in. a grunt of "this damn door..." makes both you and jaehyun release short giggles, and you peek over at jaehyun to see his lips curl upwards into a smile, a small one but it's still breathtakingly pretty . he clears his throat and it's gone in a flash, but the image doesn't leave your mind, and you're still seeing it when your dad finally manages to open the door. "i really need to start using the new lock", he mutters, shifting his eyes to you with a big grin, leaving against the doorframe with his arms folded. "hello, sweetheart."

you chuckle and throw your arms around him, squeezing him a little as he laughs and pats your back in return. releasing you, he turns to jaehyun with a smile, who promptly sticks his hand out politely. "hello, mr. l/n, long time no see."

your dad ignores his hand, throwing his head back with a gruff laugh. "what's with all the formalities, come here, son.", and with that he gives jaehyun a hug as well, a slightly shorter one albeit, but a hug nonetheless. the word 'son' repeats in your mind like an echo, sounding more and more distorted the longer you focus on it. you can't even begin to think of what was going through jaehyun's mind. this was not your brightest idea.

you notice your mom waiting by the door with her hands behind her back, eyes bright and shiny. "hi, mom.", you beam, and she laughs cheerily, opening her arms for you to run into, which you do. she presses numerous kisses to the crown of your head, making you groan lightheartedly and try to escape her hold, but it only tightens. "oh, how i've missed you."

"i missed you too, mom.", you say but she's already let you go and is making a bee line for jaehyun with her arms open, who falls into the hug so readily and comfortably. "i may have missed you, y/n, but i missed jaehyun ten times more.", she jokes, pinching jaehyun's cheeks affectionately.

jaehyun is turning bright red, but he has a toothy grin on his face, a real one, you can tell. his eyes travel the front room where all of you are stood with a nostalgic smile, having not seen it or your parents in over six months. you watch as they look from the various photo frames hung up on the wall alongside the staircase, to the curtains that they recently changed, finally landing on the record player thay was sitting on the table. "wow, mr. l/n, where did you get this?", jaehyun asks, and you wonder whether he's trying to make conversation or if he's genuinely curious. you think it may be the second one.

while him and your dad engage in small talk about his record player, you turn to your mom to ask of the whereabouts of your little sister, and as if on cue, you hear an excited squeal from the top of the stairs. all four heads turn to see your sister bounding down the stairs hurriedly, paying no mind to your mom's strained shout of "careful!".

"y/n!", she piped, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs and running straight to you, wrapping her arms around your legs. she barely reaches your hip so her hug is really just her face pressed into your thigh with her arms squeezing your legs together, while you pat the top of her head.

somehow managing to pry her off of your legs, you kneel and give her a proper hug in return, now happy that you made the decision to come home for a bit of your holiday. she lets go and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and jutting her hand out to you, urging you to take it.

you smile and furrow your eyebrows with confusion but you take the paper anyway, opening it as carefully as you could so as to not tear it anywhere. smoothing it out flat on your knee, you're greeted with a drawing; two people stand holding hands under a deep blue sky, a large yellow sun shining in one corner along with some "birds" that are really just little 'v's scribbled in black. they're stood on a beach, at least you think they are because there are two shades of blue on the paper, one of them probably being the blue hue of the ocean.

you assume the two people are you and your sister, since one of them has shorter, shoulder length hair and is miniscule compared to the other person, who's hair length and height are similar to yours.

you hold the picture to your chest and pull your sister in for another heartfelt hug, kissing her temple. "is this us?", you ask her, pointing at the two people in the drawing. she gives you a proud nod in return, taking the picture from your hands and holding it in front of her face. "yup! the big girl is you and the small girl is me! we're gonna go swimming.", she informs you, flashing you the toothiest of smiles. "thank you, it's perfect.", you tell her, ruffling her hair a little as she hands you the drawing back.

she clearly doesn't appreciate that, because she whines and swats your hands away, but soon her eyes focus on something behind you and they enlarge, the second excited squeal of the day emerging from her lips. "jae!", she just about screams, completely abandoning you in favour of running off to jaehyun, who has a wide smile on his face and looks equally as happy as her. he scoops her up in his arms and lifts her in front of his face, doing a little spin as peals of laughter escape her.

he finally puts her down but she holds on to his hand, looking at the male with absolute adoration. "hi, cutie.", he boops her nose affectionately to which she giggles, turning to look at you. "you didn't tell me jaehyun was coming!"

"i wasn't sure if he could make it", you reply to her honestly, looking at jaehyun as you speak because only the two of you know what you really mean by that. he holds your eye contact for perhaps a millisecond longer than he did before, but again, it was gone in a flash. he clears his throat a little and straightens up, rocking back on his heels.

sensing a shift in the air but mistaking it for some form of awkwardness, your mother shoos the rest of your family away in the direction of the kitchen. "they probably want to freshen up together, let's let them do that."

once they're gone, it feels like you can finally release your breath, truly seeing this situation going wrong in so many ways. they don't suspect anything yet, but how much longer until they eventually connect the dots? or what if they don't even need to do that, because jaehyun only agreed so he could embarrass you by telling them the whole story? you don't acknowledge the tense silence until jaehyun speaks up. "can i use the guest bathroom? still the second door on the right, yeah?"

you don't respond immediately because you're processing the fact that he still remembers these minute details. you also realise he's only asking because he doesn't want to share your bathroom with you, and that clears your thoughts up a little. you nod in affirmation and he begins climbing up the stairs, and you wait until you hear he's reached the upstairs landing before you move.

it's so tense. the last time you were in this house with jaehyun, you had taken a short road trip to get there. you say road trip, but it was just a couple hours long, but the playlist you and jaehyun had curated said otherwise. you arrived at the house and everyone was all smiles, your parents just happy to have you home and happy to see him as well. you think that part's just as hard as thinking about the two of you together. the fact that your slightly judgemental parents adored him, your little sister looked at him with stars in her eyes– you had lucked out in every department, and you were always aware of it, the joint guilt you felt from breaking it off and lying to your parents really getting to you now.

you swore that after this was over, you would apologise to jaehyun and finally break the truth to your parents.

finishing off in the bathroom, you step out into the hall, only to bump straight into jaehyun. backing up awkwardly, you both try to get past each but keep going in the same direction, resulting in a bunch of 'sorry–'s and 'wait– just–'s being blurted out by the two of you. finally getting past you, he doesn't look back at you again, just walking down the stairs mumbling something about "they're waiting...".

wincing, you make your way down the stairs as well, arriving at the living room to see your mom standing beside your dad with an excited expression on her face. you approach with caution, noting that your dad has his hands behind his back. "so...", your mother starts, raising her shoulders a little out of anticipation. "since we haven't seen the two of you in a while...we got you some presents! nothing too grand but..."

"mom, it's not even christmas", you whine, ready to argue with them because you feel bad that whatever they got was still overpriced, but your mother shakes her head, urging your dad to reveal the presents. "just take a look first..."

in one hand he holds a small, white box, no bigger than his palm, and your mom picks it up, holding it out to you. the print on the box is small and typewriter-like, the material it's made out of just screaming fancy. you narrow your eyes at your parents but take the box in your hand anyway, pushing it open. inside, it reveals maybe the prettiest necklace you've seen; dainty and silver, the chain is simple but it's the pendant that's the real charm– it's an uncut stone of some kind, a pale, translucent white crystal that's pretty much shapeless but it's wrapped in this thin silver wire that forms little loops and hearts over the stone and it makes it so alluring.

"it's a seaglass necklace", your mom speaks, taking the necklace out of its box for you and inclining her head for you to turn around. you're now facing jaehyun, who looks curiously at the new piece of jewellery with the faintest of smiles on his face. pushing your hair to the side, your mother places the necklace around your neck and clasps it (though it takes her a while, squinting and looking at the necklace hook from every angle because she forgot to wear her reading glasses). she leads you to the mirror by the entrance of the hall so you could get a better look at the necklace hanging on top of your collarbones, reaching up to touch it. "you remember? from that lady who owned the fancy place by the beach last summer?"

you do remember. that was the first trip jaehyun had joined you and your family for, under the suggestion of your little sister. when you brought up the fact that jaehyun was going back home to see his parents a little later than he had anticipated, your sister immediately asked if he would want to come with all of you, who were heading to the beach in a day or two for a little family getaway. and much to your surprise, your parents were very warm to the idea of jaehyun accompanying the lot of you. he must have severely impressed them the first time he met them, bringing a bouquet of flowers for your mother and a hearty bottle of whiskey for your dad– it's like he had won their hearts before he had even stepped inside the house.

of course, he had met them a couple more times again after that, but your parents had never raised any issues about your then boyfriend. your dad had claimed that he wanted jaehyun to come along so he could "keep an eye on him" and "see how he treats you in front of us", but you knew all too well he just wanted someone to talk to about his interest in sound systems. the trip had gone so smoothly, so perfectly and you think that it had planted the seeds of doubt in your mind about your relationship.

the position of the window and sun allowed for the light to bleed on to half of your face, the necklace glinting under the rays as you stood in front of the mirror and surveyed it. the last couple drops of the golden hour sun slipped through the windowpane and painted your skin like it was a canvass and the necklace was the cherry on top. you were radiant, and the look in jaehyun's eyes told you that he knew it too. when your eyes meet in the mirror, it's like he tears his eyes away from you, forcing himself to look at his shoes.

snapping out of your soon-to-be miserable thoughts, you fix a smile on to your face so as to not seem ungrateful, turning to hug your mother. "i love it", and you really do, knowing that you wouldn't be wearing a single other piece of jewellery for the next couple months.

jaehyun stands in the doorway soundlessly, just taking in the scene. he had always told you that he wished his family was as close and tight-knit as yours, but due to his dad always being away on some business trip or another and his mother having her own job to attend to, it resulted in a lot of time spent by himself.

you think that might be way he slotted right in with the rest of you, from the very first meet, because his desire to belong worked very well with your family's lively, chaotic home, which welcomed him right away. this was the main reason why couldn’t bring yourself to tell your family that you had broken up him mercilessly. they wouldn’t blame you of course, but you know everyone would be immensely disappointed when they realised that he hadn’t even done anything wrong in the first place; he was so good to you, and they just wanted to see you happy.

while your mom cooed at how pretty the necklace looked on you, your dad faces jaehyun with a wide grin on his face. "you didn't think we'd forget about you, did you?"

he probably wasn't expecting anything for himself, because you weren't either, so you and jaehyun simultaneously furrow your eyebrows. "oh, mr. l/n, you didn't have to–", he starts but your father is quick to cut him off, waving his hands. "what nonsense. of course we had to get you something, it's no big deal", he tries to appear nonchalant but the smile that creeps on to his face is a telltale sign that it is, in fact, a big deal. "besides, if you're family to y/n, you're family to us."

it's as if someone just stuck a large knife into you, the pang you just felt in your stomach. you can't even begin to think about what must be going through jaehyun's head, because even he can't hide the way his eyes soften at your dad's words. watching your sister spring up from the couch, she runs behind your father and plucks whatever he was holding out of his hands, now revealed to be a medium-sized bag. "i wanna give it to jaehyun!", with that, she's running over to him with the toothiest smile plastered on her cheeks, holding the bag out to jaehyun with stretched arms.

he ruffles her hair just like you did, but she makes absolutely zero complaints as he does it– if anything she's revelling in it. this makes you want to scoff, but you smile instead without thinking about it, taking a couple steps away from the mirror and towards them. "are you gonna open it or should i take it back to the store?", your dad jokes and jaehyun chuckles quietly while you don't even bother forcing a laugh, and he takes the bag from your sister's hands, mumbling a soft 'thank you'.

from where you're standing, you can't see what's inside the bag, but you can see jaehyun's eyes widen when he looks inside and back up at everyone. "me and mrs. l/n, i can't take this."

"of course you can", your mother tuts in response, dismissing him with her hand. "if i recall correctly, you had said something about your airpods not working properly?"

realisation dawns on your face when jaehyun pulls the shiny headphones from the bag, turning them over in his hand. "i think i did mention it, yeah...", he nods, eyes scanning over the clear box he holds. you remember that only one of his airpods would function properly, the other deciding whenever it wanted to do its job. you didn't realise your parents remembered, as well. "but these are so expensive, i can't–"

"do you like them or not?", your dad asks, shrugging his shoulders. jaehyun's quick to nod, "yes, i love them but–"

"then end of story." your father's not hearing anyone out, even going so far as to cover his ears jokingly when jaehyun opens his mouth again. after your sister tugs on his pant leg and urges him to try them out, jaehyun slips them over his ears, whipping his phone to connect them to it. he thought it was too expensive to try fixing his airpods so he resorted to listening with just the one ear in, or using your headphones till you broke up.

by the look on his face, they work just fine, and he couldn't be happier. a wide smile is pressed on his face, a real one that doesn't even drop when he makes eye contact with you. you smile back at him slowly, but he doesn't look away immediately, slowly turning to look at your parents. "i don't know what to say. thank you."

you'd had a couple boyfriends before, not none as close to your family as jaehyun had been. none of your previous relationships had lasted very long and you could never pinpoint the exact reason why, you just knew at some point that you had to break it off. your mother always thought that this was a result of your first ever relationship, the first and last man that ever dumped you. it crushed you at the time, though you were able to power through, but since then, relationships were never your strong suit. change seemed promising when you met jaehyun through a mutual friend, however. he was kind, he was smart and he was genuine, three traits that you didn't typically see in guys you dated, but you didn't see any reason to dwell on your biggest fumble yet.

the rest of time until dinner continues in a steadfast manner with all of you sitting in the living room. the scene looked like something out of a corny movie montage, but the beautiful part of it was that it was reality, all the laughs, the eye-smiles, the stupid jokes and conversations, all of it. your parents had recently returned from a holiday together that they took to celebrate their wedding anniversary, which meant that you two deserved to look through all eight hundred and sixty two of the photos they took. super proud of the new projector he had ordered off amazon, your dad had connected his phone to it and was going through his gallery slideshow-style, with your mom making offhand comments about every other photo.

"that's from when we went on a date to this fancy restaurant, that's from the shoe store your dad wanted to go to...oh! that's when your dad just learnt how to take 0.5x pictures on his new phone!"

your mom speaks animatedly while each photo is being shown, pointing out various different things without any prompting. there were badly taken selfies of your parents that made both you and jaehyun laugh, pictures of the different kinds of food they ate, the said 0.5's of your mother taken from the top of her forehead– your dad was slapping his knee even though your mom wasn't too impressed.

after what seemed like years, they ran out of vacation pictures and moved on to pictures and videos taken during your little sister's talent show. this was especially endearing, because your normally high-energy sister was suddenly all shy and avoidant of eye contact in the presence of jaehyun, particularly displeased with a video of her singing on stage.

jaehyun wipes the pout right off her face however, poking her cheek with a smile. "you sound amazing, s/n", he pipes genuinely, and she's back to smiling again, even offering to sing the song for everyone towards the end. no one has the heart to turn down so innocent a request, so for the next couple minutes you are subjected to a very slightly off-key rendition of some song from the movie 'frozen'. everyone cheers when she is done, jaehyun even throwing in a little "whoo!" for good measure, and your sister performs a small curtsey before seating herself between you and jaehyun's legs.

you're situated on the same couch, but only so that things don't look weird. you invited him here to pose as your boyfriend, and he agreed, so you have to play the part too. that part wasn't as hard as you expected, the acting like a couple, no, it was the avoiding questions that was really getting to you. at some point in the conversation, your dad had congenially asked jaehyun when the next time he'd be coming home was. normally, he would congenially reply with something like "as soon as possible", but this time, he just froze. he appeared to attempt a reply, but was cut short at "uh–", the rest of the sentence never following through.

hoping to repair the awkward moment, you start to construct a fib. "jaehyun's been uh– you know, working at one of those um, nursing homes–", this is too out-of-the-box a reply even for jaehyun who turns to you, trying and failing to the hide incredulous look on his face.

"a nursing home? oh, i didn't know you were training to be a nurse!", your mother is surprised but definitely not disappointed, placing her hand on her chest with a sympathetic look on her face as she looks at jaehyun. he looks as if he's trying to speak to you using only his eyes, widening and squinting them at a rapid pace, tilting his head towards you so your parents don't see his expression. there are clear signs of confusion and you're aware he's questioning your decisions, but that's as far as you get with his eye signals and you let him know by shrugging and wincing, so he closes them while sighing inwardly and turns to face your parents, a fake smile stuck on his lips.

"yes! haha, funny story, this one...", he grits his teeth but furthers your stupid concoction of a story, snapping his fingers while trying to think. "i'm not really training to be a nurse, i just volunteer there sometimes. love being around old people, you know, makes me feel full of life–"

you cut him off before he can make this even worse for the both of you, taking in your mother's furrowed eyebrows and your dad's slightly opened mouth. "yes, well, it's hard for him to catch a break, you know, with all the...", you slap your hand over his knee and give it a little squeeze, turning to him with a grin while he smiles tightly back at you, eyes focusing on the hand on his thigh without changing his expression. "...hard work he does."

jaehyun's eyes don't leave your hand, seeing as this is the first act of skinship in six months, albeit casual. your hand feels so hot that you think you might be burning a hole through the material of jaehyun's jeans, finally ripping your hand off of him.

"of course...", your father trails off in confusion, and no one can seem to make head or tails of the situation. in a moment, your mother pauses before clapping her hands, seemingly already forgotten about the strange situation as she chimes "dinner in five!~". your sister scampers off with claims of helping your mother out in the kitchen (and probably to try and secure a spot close to you and jaehyun), and jaehyun stands up and heads to the cupboard containing all your placemats without out even being asked. you offer to help but he shakes his head, and you opt to go sit back down on one of the arm chairs facing the kitchen area, just observing.

this was one of jaehyun's qualities that made you fall in love with him, but also pissed you off to no end. first of all, didn't he ever get tired of just being so good all the time? second of all, why couldn't his own parents see what everyone else saw in him? and thirdly, why did you choose to ruin your life six months ago? as for the last one, you knew why, but the extent of your stupidity was real apparent to you now.

you look away when he meets your eyes and catches you, your heart beating fast when you see out of the corner of your eye that his gaze lingers for a moment or two. underneath all that hatred, was there still a small part of him that cared about you? after you broke up with him, over call that too, he attempted to call you back two or three times, but you couldn't bring yourself to pick up. out of fear or maybe even shame, you never answered his calls and since then, you'd had no contact.

it was impossible. with a break-up like that and six month's worth of time to sit and think about it, you imagine that one could hold a surprising amount of hatred for someone–especially after a relationship as real as yours. if you switched the roles, you think you wouldn't feel much different.

at your mom's signal, you heave yourself off the couch and to the dining table, seating yourself next to jaehyun (everyone expected you to sit with him, they left the chair empty on purpose). your sister has already claimed the spot opposite jaehyun and was patiently awaiting the vegetables that she knew your mother was going to pile on her plate, a little pout forming on her lips at the sight of broccoli. "you can't make that face every time, like i'm feeding you dog food", your mother scolds her with a smile, giving her a generous helping of veggies. the pout deepens and she folds her arms with a cross look on her face. "you guys don't have to eat the broccoli. why do i?"

she's got a point, you think, but before you can tell her to just eat them, jaehyun speaks. "that's exactly what my little cousin sungchan said...", jaehyun tells her, looking around the table with a dramatic sigh. "and we all know what happened to him..."

little cousin sungchan? as far as you know, there is no little cousin sungchan, and you know a lot about jaehyun's family, so you put your fork down in favour of listening to his story at the same time your sister curiously asks, "what happened?".

"well, like you, sungchan didn't like eating his veggies", starting off the story with a shrug under your mother's listening ears, he talks in a low voice. "he'd always argue with my aunt till one day, he refused to eat them.

your sister is knocking food around her plate while she listened to jaehyun, and she's not impressed with the story so far. "see! why can't i do that?", she asks indignantly, and your mother shoots jaehyun a look to which he winced and continues. "nothing happened for a while, so sungchan thought he had proved his point. but he hadn't heard of the veggie monster."

the story is heading in such a stupid direction that you almost laugh out loud, but you catch yourself when you notice your sister's expression, guarded and wary. "...the veggie monster? ...that's not real...", she speaks like she's not fully sure of her words herself, pausing her attack on her food.

"sungchan thought that too", jaehyun agrees, lowering his voice like one would when telling a scary story, looking around him like it could be listening before continuing, for the story's sake. "but he didn't know that without veggies, a child's body is weak. their bones don't grow strong, they stay small and their minds aren't sharp at all. that's how the veggie monster chooses his targets."

you hold back a snort at your sister's wide-eyed expression and how serious jaehyun looks, he's even got your dad attempting to look nonchalant as he followed the story. "the less veggies a kid eats, the weaker they get, and that's easy pickings for the veggie monster. he comes late at night, and there's no point in hiding because he knows. he can smell when a kid doesn't have enough vitamins and it makes him hungry."

with your sister, your parents and even you hanging on to every word, jaehyun lowers his voice to almost a whisper, and all of you lean in closer to listen. "legend has it that he looks so scary that you lose the ability to move or speak, so he just takes you. sungchan was never seen again. the police said he was missing but i knew what happened to him."

you have to admit, jaehyun can tell a story. the atmosphere felt more eerie as he concluded the story cryptically, but your sister looks positively gutted. "did he take him?", she questions, face white and voice small. he nods slowly, like he didn't want to be talking about this, and all you can think about is how this man deserved an award after the show he put on. "i had my suspicions. no one believed me, but i'm ninety-nine percent sure that at dinner, i saw a pair of dark, red eyes staring straight into the kitchen from the window."

as if nature was a paid fucking actor, a slight crash sounds from outside the window on cue, like if a cat knocked over a plastic bin, but you're pretty sure your sister shit her pants. you've never seen her shovel vegetables into her mouth at that kind of record speed before, even your parents are looking at her astounded. with her food in her mouth, she pleads with glazed eyes, "please– i'm sorry, i'll have my veggies, don't let him take me!"

it takes all of you a little while to convince your sister that she'd be completely fine if she ate all the veggies given to her and that the veggie monster wouldn't even think of her, but it's safe to say that she'd never leave a bit of stray carrot on her plate ever again. your mom comically mouths 'thank you' to jaehyun which makes you laugh, and you turn to smile at him, and he gives you a nod in return. small steps, you think, because a nod is a whole lot better than a glare.

the rest of the dinner continues as if nothing changed. sure, you and jaehyun knew things were different, but it didn't fully feel like it at the moment. your mom had prepared a lot of nice food for the occasion, and your dad even helped, particularly proud of the way his stir fry turned out. jaehyun made sure to compliment both your parents on their cooking, and they all but melted– he still knew exactly how to talk to them. conversation was easy; you talked about work, you talked about how university was going, you talked about the school play your sister was going to take part in, about jaehyun's parents, nothing was forced.

you'd fall into comfortable silences at times in favour of sitting back and observing, listening, just being a part of the moment. for someone who was so reluctant to be here, jaehyun seems comfortable, the familiarity of the situation helping ease the tension between the two of you. expecting some bumps along the way, you were rather pleased with how things were turning out, but you were also anticipating the end of the lovely evening– where you and jaehyun would eventually go your separate ways. you don't want to think about it just yet, not when everything was going so smoothly, and your opportunity to snap out of your thoughts is presented to you, just not in the way you would have liked.

your mother's question seems to have thrown jaehyun for a loop as well, because his eyebrows are furrowed and he looks blatantly confused. at some point during a lull in the conversation, your mother had politely asked jaehyun how his christmas in japan had gone; the only problem with this question was that he never had a christmas in japan, not to his knowledge anyway. this, was yet another lie you had told your parents, when they had asked why jaehyun hadn't accompanied you home to celebrate christmas, like he had originally planned to. unbeknownst to them, you had already broken up with him prior to the christmas holidays, so jaehyun wasn't exactly going to come along anyway. so, you told them that he had to spend christmas with an aunt in japan, for familial reasons.

you didn't exactly have time to prep jaehyun and give him a run down of every single lie he had to play along with, so he turns to you with a look of uncertainty and desperation in his eyes. "my, uh- christmas? in japan?", he puts emphasis on the two keywords, not blinking when he speaks directly to you in hopes that you would take the hint and help him out.

"yeah, your christmas. in japan. with your aunt", you reply to him with the same tone and expression as he does, trying your best to sound subtle so your parents don't catch on.

"yes, with your aunt! we were so sad to hear that you couldn't make it for christmas", your mother is unknowingly helping jaehyun catch up with the fake story, and he releases a short "ahh" during his moment of 'recollection'. "right, my real aunt who definitely lives in japan."

he grits his teeth when he talks, making you grimace and the fact that your parents look completely puzzled doesn't help. you need to save your dignity anyway, so you try to cut jaehyun off before he can make things worse. "haha, jaehyun of course she's your real aunt, silly", you awkwardly chuckle, feigning nonchalance when you bump his shoulder with your fist, wishing you could telepathically communicate with him right now, but you'd probably only be saying "please, please, please" on repeat.

he sighs but speaks up again, much to your relief. "it was slightly boring, my aunt doesn't do much", he laughs softly, fully back in character. "but you know, it's still nice to spend time with your family."

if your parents are suspicious, they don't say anything, seemingly satisfied with jaehyun's answer. dinner continues with few hitches until jaehyun insists that he washes the dishes. "it's the least i can do, after you both made such delicious food."

your mother at least tries to argue with him for a bit, but your dad is quite happy to not have to wash dishes, patting jaehyun on the back before standing up. what surprises you however, is jaehyun turning to you with the sweetest, most fake smile you've seen in a minute plastered on his face. "you mind helping, y/n?"

smiling tightly, you nod and begin clearing the table. this is done in silence, neither of you even looking at each other as you pick up dishes and carry them to the kitchen. your sister has run off to the living room to watch some t.v with your dad, and it feels like you're finally allowed to breathe when your mother exits the room as you’re picking up the last dirty dish. walking into the kitchen, jaehyun's back is facing you while he washes dishes, the environment and the little tune he's humming making everything seem so domestic in your eyes. this is how dinner used to always go when he came over, with you and him washing the dishes together in the end, taking breaks to splash each other with the soapy water or making out secretly by the counter.

but the air is foreign now, none of the former warmth or softness remaining. he turns to you with a frown when you place the final dish on the side of the sink, and he really doesn't look too happy. "visiting an aunt in japan? really?", he scoffs, looking incredulous while you look sheepish, avoiding his eye contact entirely.

you were expecting something like this but you hated being put on the spot. "i don't know, okay, what else was i supposed to say?", the exasperation in your voice is evident but it only fuels jaehyun, and rightfully so.

"i got an idea, how about 'oh, he can't come because i dumped his ass over call for no reason, sorry'?", he digs snidely, voice laden with scorn. there it is. "or is that too close to the truth for you?"

he doesn’t even let you open your mouth, chucking the cloth he was using to dry the dishes on the counter somewhere, folding his arms while he looks at you in a hostile way. “you wanna know how i really spent my christmas, y/n?”, he sneers sardonically, a sarcastic smile etched on to his lips. “alone in my house. miserable. i wish i had an aunt in fucking japan that i could’ve spent it with.”

you hate to admit it, but his words sting and you are well aware that you deserve it. just asking him to join you for this dinner was a huge reach, a request you really didn't expect him to accept. you don't fully understand why he did, though. he clearly despised you, so many be it was out of love for your family? you know jaehyun cared for them, but doing all this was uncharacteristic even for him. when you don't say anything but wear an agonised expression on your face, jaehyun further questions you.

"do you not have anything to say for yourself?", he tries again, his voice a little softer and more hopeful than before but you look like you're fighting some internal battle that doesn't involve him. he exhales deeply, clearly disappointed in your lack of an explanation and just walks past you and out of the kitchen.

you remain in the kitchen for a couple beats more, trying your level best to collect yourself. you can feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes and your breathing is quicker, but this is the absolute worst time to have a little panic attack in the kitchen. how you wished the two of you could just forget about everything for a minute so you could wrap your arms around his figure and fall into his embrace, feeling like that would solve all your problems. it's selfish and wrong, but you know that you're not getting over jaehyun anytime soon.

you'd come to that conclusion a couple months back. the first month after you broke things off with him was possibly the worst time of your life, struggling to eat, sleep or even get out of bed. your friends urged you to reach out to him like they knew you wanted to, but you remained stubborn, convinced at the time that you had made the right decision that would hurt the least for the both of you. you were wrong, you could see that now, but you knew it was much too late. you'd already gone through all the stages of grief, but seeing jaehyun again in this environment had really gone and thrown a spanner in the works for you, all because of your terrible decision-making skills.

any hopes you had of the two of you at least being on semi-friendly terms had just flown out the window as well, and you suddenly think that this might've been the reason why jaehyun even agreed to come. an explanation. a well-deserved one at that. you don't know why you find it so hard to give him one, but you suspect it's because you're not ready to face all that yourself.

upon hearing your mother faintly call out your name, you realise how long you've been standing in the kitchen, taking a couple more deep breaths before you join the rest of them. it's clear that everyone's winding down, your sister curled up on your dad's lap, trying to blink away her sleepiness, while everyone else mutedly watched the television. "didn't mean to keep you all up past your bedtime", you try to joke lightheartedly because your parents look like they're about to hit the hay themselves, but it's really so that no one suspects you were having a little breakdown in the kitchen; especially jaehyun.

"you're not wrong", your dad agrees gruffly, stretching a little before tapping on your sister's cheek to wake her, much to her displeasure. "it's technically your mama's turn to put you to bed, isn't it?", he attempts, but is quickly shot down by your mother, pinching his arm after claiming it was certainly not her turn. after their grand performance, both of them comically turn to look at you with a suspiciously bright look in their eyes. you don't even have time to argue, because the second the hint of a sigh leaves your mouth, they're saying "thank you" and "how nice of you to offer", urging your sister to wake up to let her know that you'll be tucking her in tonight.

she perks up a little at this, nodding with a little glint in her eyes. hopping off your dad's lap, she sleepily totters over to you. "can jae come too?", her voice is hopeful and small, and she yawns in the middle of her sentence but she just has this certain charm that makes everyone unable to say 'no' to her. this includes jaehyun, because one look from her with her arms raised and he's picking her up, pretending to complain about it. you can't help but smile at the whole interaction.

"oh quick! before i forget...", your mom gasps in remembrance, picking her phone up from the coffee table with a tired smile. "don't know when i'll get to see the two of you again so, pictures!"

this may be the only part you were slightly prepared for. your mother had a special affinity for taking photos; not that she was any good at it, she just enjoyed capturing these little moments and treating her gallery like a scrapbook. she had more or less documented the entirety of you and jaehyun's relationship, from the first few months where all the photos were cheesy smiles and awkward poses, to when you had grown more comfortable around each other. in fact, a photo she had taken of jaehyun was your wallpaper for quite some time (it took a lot of effort and explaining to help your mom airdrop you the picture)– it was a shot of jaehyun and your sister grinning from ear to ear, both adorning aprons that were covered in flour after a failed attempt at baking cookies.

the point being, you're pretty sure jaehyun was also expecting the pictures, so it didn't really surprise you when he plastered a smile on his face and came to stand beside you. his hand finds the small of your back soon enough and it makes your body stiffen while simultaneously sending a jolt through it, and jaehyun feels it. mistaking the action for uneasiness, he immediately lifts his warm hand off you so that it's now hovering awkwardly over your body, though no one can see that from the front. while you are disappointed, you lean into him anyway, clasping your hands together behind your back as you both give the camera wide smiles. you're so close you can smell his cologne and it's making you dizzy, not because the scent is overpowering but because it's just so familiar and you can't get enough of it.

the moment is gone in a flash because your mother takes three to four photos while cooing at the two of you before she decides to call it a night, and then jaehyun is ripping himself from you. you don't think anyone else recognises it, the way he seems to want to be as far from you as possible because he's so good at masking these things, but you can feel it. you can feel this heat radiating off of his body whenever he's near you and it's not the warm, fuzzy kind of heat. the spot on your back where his hand rested still burns a little.

your parents are exhausted and look more than happy to be able to jump straight into bed, but not before thanking you and jaehyun. you hug and kiss them goodnight, promising that your next visit will be sooner than this one before they exchange pleasantries with jaehyun, making him promise the same. you know this has to be hard on him, making a mental note to apologise profusely before you part ways. with a reminder that the door now locks from the inside, they bid you goodnight and goodbye, trudging off to their room while your sister scampers up the stairs to hers, suddenly full of life.

you understand why your parents were more than happy to hand over bedtime duties to you and your "boyfriend", because putting your little sister to bed turned out to be a piece of work. she started off by blatantly refusing to brush her teeth, but jaehyun had that one sorted when he reminded her that the veggie monster had a lot of friends, so that was done. she changed into her pyjamas all on her own which was a relief, but you were at a loss over how to actually get her into bed.

you both humoured her for a bit, understanding that she was just happy to have her big sister and her big sister's nice boyfriend home again, so a little excitement was expected. jaehyun played along with her, which was a sight to see, following along with the characters she assigned him in her imaginary games. but when bouncing on her bed turned into running around the room like a crazed bunny, it was a little harder to convince her that she needed to sleep now. "look at me, i'm wide awake", she insists, widening her eyes with her fingers to show you both just how awake she was. jaehyun tried a couple times to catch her, but you're both taken by surprise at her remarkable speed and agility. in the end, you had to resort to just sitting down and hoping that she'll tire herself out, which eventually does happen.

she climbs into bed of her own accord, rubbing at her eyes while you pull the duvet over her body, up to her shoulders. "when are you coming next?", she mumbles curiously while you sit on the edge of her bed, jaehyun standing close by. "soon", you reply honestly, knowing that you'll always have a safe place to come to whenever you need. "maybe i'll even stay for a whole weekend next time."

she likes the sound of this, smiling tiredly with her hands peeking over the edge of her cover, holding it closer to her. "will you come too?", this question is directed towards jaehyun, who looks defeated when he opens his mouth to answer. it's not fair, expecting him to lie to your family like this, but you know you've gotta come clean soon. you'd made up your mind at this point and come up with a plan; you'd explain yourself to jaehyun and apologise after which you'll go your separate ways, then you'll tell your family the truth after tonight, or at least make up a more recent break up, and that's that.

when jaehyun looks to you for help, you play with your hands a little, not fully knowing what to say. "if the old ladies at the nursing home let him go, maybe...", is what you decide is the safest option to go with, and your sister seems satisfied enough, giggling drowsily. you know she's close to falling asleep, and you're about to inwardly celebrate a job well done when she pops her next, unexpected question. "will you both be together forever?"

oh. there's a hint of teasing behind her voice, but everything else about the question is innocent and genuine, blinking her eyes open so she can look at the both of you when you answer. though you're not touching him, you can feel jaehyun stiffen next to you, his voice sounding more than a little awkward when he lets out an involuntary "uhh".

"what do you mean, cutie?"

you don't know why he asks that, because it's a pretty straightforward question; will the two of you be together forever? you want to laugh at the irony because you know that if she had asked the same question last time jaehyun came home, you both would have exchanged knowing smiles, giggling shyly while you tried to answer. the answer would've been 'yes', and you know deep down that it still should be.

she clicks her tongue like it's the most obvious and easy question in the world, shrugging her shoulders when she speaks. "you know, that's what people do when they're in love,", she answers with no hesitation, and you want to roll your eyes because who kidnapped your little sister and replaced her with dhar mann? "just like mommy and daddy!"

"daddy and mommy are married, sweetie, it's a little different–"

"i know that", she cuts off your little improvised answer in a deadpan voice that almost makes you feel stupid, but all her questions have your heart thudding against your rib cage, and you're praying to god that jaehyun can't hear it too. "but still, they love each other, and that's why they're together forever. don't you love each other?"

you're pretty sure the world stopped spinning and your heart stopped beating simultaneously, most definitely not expecting these kinds of questions from your sister. how do you even prepare an answer for this kind of situation? you know for a fact that your cheeks are coated in a dark sheen of red, and out of the corner of your eye (because you refuse to look at him), you’re pretty sure you can see the distinct pink colour paint the tips of jaehyun's ears, like they always do when he's shy or embarrassed. you can't not give her an answer, because that looks weird and she's clearly waiting for one, but answering meant that you either tell her the truth, that no, you will not be together forever because your dumbass went and ruined everything for the both of you six months ago, or you can lie and say that she's right, which would be admitting a lot of things that you didn't want to admit–

"nothing's for sure, but you're right, if two people really do love each other...", jaehyun's deep voice brings all your spiralling thoughts to a halt, and you look at him for the first time in a bit, only to find that he's already looking at you, gaze raw and piercing. you hold your breath when he speaks, because you don't trust yourself at the moment. "...they'll end up together forever."

you hear your sister make some kind of a reply, but the heartbeat in your ears is so loud that you don't quite catch it, the eye contact you're holding with jaehyun so intense that it feels wrong to look away. what could he have possibly meant by that? or was it just some half-assed answer to get your sister to go to sleep? you realise that staring at him while trying to use your sixth sense to nonverbally convey these questions to him isn't going to work, but you can feel the lump forming in your throat, needing to get out of this situation quickly.

it takes everything in you to break the eye contact in favour of pressing a quick peck to your sister's temple, and she looks about ten seconds away from just crashing. "night y/n, night jae...", and with that she's out like a light, and you two wait wordlessly until her breathing evens out before silently exiting the room.

once her bedroom door is shut, you make a beeline for the front door, way too scared and vulnerable right now to look at jaehyun. he doesn't say anything, so neither do you, making sure the door is actually locked before taking your phone out of your pocket. the time on your phone screen reads '11:43', and you know it's too late to try and catch the metro or a bus, but you're too stubborn and embarrassed to ask jaehyun to drop you.

the air is cold outside, much colder than it was inside your warm house. at the current moment, there is no breeze either, the trees are still and there are only a few lights on around the street, and it just makes everything seem so still and loud. you look out at the road, eyes zeroing in on this one lamp post where you shared one of your first few kisses with the man standing beside you. it's crazy how time can change things, you think, because never would you have believed in the moment that jaehyun called you "the most beautiful girl in the world" before leaning in to sweetly connect your lips that he could ever be something so close to a stranger within months.

ultimately opting to look at him, you're once again unable to read the expression on his face as you try your best to speak your mind to him. "um, i'm gonna book a cab, so you're officially free to go. thanks again for tonight, you really didn't have to come with me, so i owe you one. or i don't have to owe you one, because we're not going to see each other again- anything's good with me, just uh...thanks."

he waits patiently for you to finish, and aside from the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes, you're at a loss over what he's really thinking, but his face is so stupidly handsome that you're feeling angry and a little awkward, choosing to look around, and at the floor, playing with your fingers as you spoke.

"you're so dramatic y/n, i can drop you home, it's no big deal", he's already walking towards the road and biting his lip, and you can't tell whether it's out of habit or if he's trying to hide a smile, yet something tells you that it might be the latter.

"so you just let me say all that even though you were gonna offer to drop me? dude..."

the initial ten minutes of the drive are uncommunicative, both of you choosing to look at the dark road instead of acknowledging the awkward silence that was swallowing the car up whole. you don’t talk about your argument in the kitchen, you don’t make small talk about dinner, you don’t talk. you'd normally play some music in the background and you know that your phone is definitely still connected to his car's bluetooth, but somehow it just doesn't feel right– punishing yourself by sitting in this impenetrable silence should do you better.

the roads are more or less empty, save for the lone car or bike that speeds past you. jaehyun knows the way to your house from your parent's because of the amount of times you've driven back and forth, so you don't feel the need to tell him to turn right or to keep going down a certain road, making for even more silence.

part of you is still a little thankful that it isn't the most short drive, even though you aren't even speaking to each other. all it takes is picturing your empty house, devoid of the homely domestic feeling it used to carry when jaehyun was a frequent visitor. what would you even do when you got home? wallow in self-pity over your life choices? play 'sweet' by cigarettes after sex because it reminds you of him, then put on his hoodie that doesn't even smell like him anymore, just so you can curl up in bed and have a good cry while you reminisce? you're starting to think that maybe attempting to talk to him isn't the worst idea, at least it'll give you something to cry about later.

you're going crazy wracking your brain, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't make the atmosphere even more uneasy, but all you got was "hey, thanks again for coming" and "hey, sorry for breaking up with you, what's good though?". you can't even help the wince creeping on your face, finally choosing to go with the former before you have a heart attack and die in jaehyun's front seat.

"thanks again for agreeing to come", you start, absolutely hating the break in your voice from not talking for some time. "you really didn't have to do that. and for dropping me."

he offers you a quick nod in your general direction and fixes his eyes on the road ahead like he was zipping through a crowded highway, though you're sure there isn't a car in sight. "like i said, it's cool", is all you get in return, and you have to remind yourself that he has every right to be short with you.

but still, you try again. "and you don't have to worry about my parents", chewing on your bottom lip, you actually look at him this time, hoping it'll prompt him to do the same, but it doesn't. "i'm gonna tell them the truth."

he releases a short breath from his nose like he finds your statement funny, but continues to not really say anything, just nodding to indicate that he heard you. you subconsciously clench and unclench your jaw at that, because god, he's so fucking annoying, but you swear you don't mean to release the slightly irritated sigh that you do. if you hadn't seen his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel, you might not have known that your little sigh pissed him off, because you can't tell it from his face, save from the barely-there eyebrow twitch.

you don't know what it is about car rides with only one other person that make you feel so vulnerable, but you think paired with this kind of silence, you could potentially confess to murder in this setting. it's infuriating, how unresponsive he is, and part of you thinks you're jealous of the control he's exerting, because you're dead sure that if you were in his position, you'd have a fair amount to say. it must be satisfying for him in a way, watching you squirm like this out of guilt and discomfort, but you know in your heart that jaehyun simply isn't like that.

"look, jaehyun", your mouth is working faster than your brain, the silence proving to be too much for you to handle. "i know i fucked things up a bit. with how i ended it and everything..."

perhaps you should've taken a little more time to properly articulate your thoughts, because even jaehyun can't control the astounded scoff that slips out of his mouth. you yourself can't believe that you chose to deliver your words like that and it makes you sound so self-righteous, but they're out, and now you're bracing yourself to finally hear what jaehyun really has to say.

"fucked things up a bit? are you serious?", you can hear it in his voice that he's holding back, but he chooses to laugh in disbelief instead, which you think is actually worse than him straight up screaming at you. "y/n, you didn't even bother telling me in person. you dumped me over the fucking phone, saying it wasn't working."

you now kind of wish that you had just kept quiet and sat in his awkward car, and exchanged awkward niceties when you reach home, never to see him again. but this is your final chance at some form of redemption, and now that jaehyun was actually speaking his mind instead of giving you tight nods, you tried to explain yourself.

"jaehyun, i know, i just–"

"i called you a bunch of times. i tried to come see you and everything, but you went and changed your lock and all your friends were saying you didn't want to see me?"

there goes trying to explain yourself. so you sat and listened instead, and it was the least you could do. jaehyun's voice became more and more strained as he talked, the emotions he was feeling now a lot more evident. he was angry, but more importantly, he was confused, and sad.

"i just- i didn't know what went wrong, you know? we were completely fine as far as i knew", he continues on in a laboured way and he's not looking for you speak right now, so you don't. "fuck i- i thought we were in love."

the little laugh he lets out in between his words more or less breaks your heart, the whole scenario sounding all too familiar. those exact words were the last thing you'd heard from jaehyun before you fully and cruelly broke things off, letting him know the decision was final before cutting the call. you remember that day so clearly. you had meant to go see him and explain all this in person, that’s the whole reason you were in the car, but for some reason, you just couldn’t do it. you remember how much your hands were shaking as you waited for him to pick up the call, sitting in the car by yourself in the middle of your driveway. how long you sat and cried after you ended the call, tears falling until there weren't any left. how it began raining the very second you stepped out of your car to go back inside.

the weather was a funny thing, choosing to mirror your mood only when it saw fit. it was warm and sunny on the day you broke up with him, gentle breeze and wispy clouds all around. it was warm and sunny this morning, the weather ever so pleasant as you plucked up the courage to walk to his door. it was still unusually warm and sunny for the couple months following your break up, feeling sour as ever that the weather was so lovely and all you could do was sit in your room and feel sorry.

you took note of all these occasions because it always used to piss you off. though you shiver now in the car, you think it's kind of satisfying in a way, because the only two times your mood and the weather lined up was right after the break up, and the second you stepped outside your house with jaehyun; it feels like a premonition, or a revelation of sorts. the grey of the stormy sky matched the absolute devastation you felt after breaking up with him, rain pouring from the heavy clouds like they were crying for you. now, the cold, still air feels like baited breath, awaiting your next move.

"and nothing, i hear nothing from you for six fucking months until you're suddenly on my doorstep, asking me to pretend to be your boyfriend for a night. that's fucking insane!", he sounds a little wild now, very exasperated, but you figure it's probably better to just let him get it all out of his system, and you'd do good to listen to him as well. everything he's saying makes complete sense, all the emotions he dealt with akin to what you would've gone through had it been you in his place. "and you know what's more insane? i agreed. after all that, i agreed."

that’s the part you don’t understand. your heart is racing listening to him and you have so many thoughts swimming around in your head, it's difficult to filter them. you feel similar to how you felt back in the kitchen, although this time you can't take a minute by yourself to get over it. you absolutely refuse to cry in this moment, not wanting to seem like you're trying to victimise yourself when you are aware you're the problem. but you can feel your heart breaking all over again.

"why did you agree?", you physically can't raise your voice to louder than a whisper, the tension too thick to try and overpower it.

"why did you dump me?", he counters like a child, and while you were expecting the question, it still makes you freeze up a little. he huffs in annoyance when you don't say anything, inclining his head while he waits expectantly for you to answer. "you wanted to talk? let's talk, y/n. you don't get to just waltz back into my life like it's nothing. it's not fair,"  it's so cold, the way he says your name, but you try your best not to let it further shake you, mustering up the courage to finally speak. "it's so stupid, jaehyun."

he looks like he's about two seconds away from just combusting, the only sound piercing the cold air being the gentle hum of the engine. "don't you think i deserve to know?", he urges, voice edged with hurt and frustration. "i spent the whole day with you and your family, pretending like everything was happy and normal when it's not."

"i know, jaehyun-"

"then, tell me."

you shift uncomfortably in your seat, teeth toying with your bottom lip as you avoid looking at him. "i don't know," you murmur, your voice barely audible to yourself over the pounding of your heart.

"you don't know?", he repeats incredulously, his tone tinged with disbelief. "after everything, you don't know? don't lie to me, y/n."

your throat tightens as guilt washes over you, but you try to stand your ground. "i just... i couldn't do it anymore," you confess, voice trembling with emotion.

"couldn't do what?", he presses, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. you know he doesn't believe you, dead set on getting the answers he deserves. he's driving slowly now, allowing him to turn his head in your direction more often.

"this!", you exclaim but immediately recoil when you see the look of hurt flash in his eyes. "no! not this, i mean- me! it's my fault, you did nothing wrong." you're saying all the wrong things, but you're too overcome with emotion to attempt to form a coherent sentence. still, you know it's time that the truth came out, so you continue to explain with a heavy heart.

"i didn't mean to hurt you," you choke out, and your voice is so thick you have to swallow before you carry on. he looks indignant and rightfully so, but you go on before he can interrupt you again. "but i was so scared, jaehyun."

his expression softens at your state, replaced with a mixture of sadness and resignation. "scared of what?", he asks quietly, his words hanging heavy in the air. you feel the need to pause for a moment, hands balled into tight fists as you try to regulate your breathing. you really didn't take into account how debilitating the night would be on yourself. sure, you knew it was going to be tough seeing jaehyun again, especially if he agreed to pretend to be together, but you weren't really expecting to hash it out like this, the weight of your decision pressing down on your like a leaden blanket.

the car moves so slow it may as well be still but  when you turn to him, you can feel the burn of jaehyun's gaze, his eyes searching for some semblance of understanding. "i loved you", he whispers, voice cracking with the intensity of his words. "i would've done anything for you."

you're still, you're so so still. tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you struggle to find the right words to say, but he's completely thrown you off. the car has slowed to a stop, engine idling before he eventually turns it off in favour of turning to you.

"that's exactly why," you reply weakly, your voice a fraction of the volume it normally is. he surveys you intently, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt, eyes reflecting the very same sadness you feel.

"what do you mean?"

"i was scared of hurting you," your confession does nothing to ease his confusion, but you can see he looks more shocked than anything now. "scared of hurting me?," he echoes, his uncertainty and disbelief palpable. "this is so ironic, it's almost funny..."

you think hearing any more of what he has to say is actually going to kill you internally, so you know you have to rush to explain before he starts giving you a piece of his mind again. "i know, it's so fucking stupid, jaehyun", your voice is trembling from the sheer guilt you feel, bottom lip quivering so much you have to bite it to get it to stop. "everything was going so perfectly, you were so perfect, and it scared me so much."

he falls silent, much to your relief, his expression even softening minutely as he processes your words and this gives you the encouragement to continue. "remember that night on the beach? on the trip last year?", you speak tentatively, wanting him to understand your thought process and the tangled mess of emotions swirling inside you at the time, though it's not much of a defense. the memory floods into your mind so vividly, and you can see it all; the salt in the air, the gentle breeze, the feeling of the sand, your intertwined hands swinging. it was so serene and you'd give anything to be there in that moment again, though it's nothing but a distant dream now.

he nods slowly without speaking, and you release a wet sort of laugh, feeling like you'd choke on the lump in your throat. "we talked about everything that night, our families, our childhoods, our futures...and then you brought up what would happen after we graduated college."

you know he remembers because his eyes light up with recognition and he looks like he's replaying that exact moment in his head, and you hope he remembers it with the same soft, gushy feeling you do. "you said you wanted to move in together, and don't get me wrong, i was thrilled, but it made me realise how...serious everything was, you know?", your voice catches in your throat and you're talking to yourself as much as you're talking to him and he seems to understand that, because he makes no attempt to stop you.

it's silent again for a bit as you two reminisce, but you break it again. "i just knew i was going to fuck up, jaehyun. maybe not right away, but eventually, and the thought terrified me," you sniffle a little, not being able to bring yourself to look up from your hands to meet his gaze. "that feeling never really went away, and it was eating me up from the inside. it got so bad that i had convinced myself that you were going to leave me, so i had to do it first, before i fucked up."

your sorrowful confession hangs in the air like an echo and you finally give in to the urge to look at him, and you're shocked– he looks at you so carefully, his expression soft, much, much softer than before. you couldn't stop the tears from finally falling if you tried , the soft glow of the dashboard illuminating the contours of your now wet face. your shared eye contact makes you feel nervous, but not in the way you were expecting– it's too gentle, too raw and it makes you feel a certain way.

"i know it's not an excuse," you're blubbering so much that your cheeks feel hot, you're practically falling apart in the passenger seat of jaehyun's car while he watches and lets you pour all your miseries out onto him. "you don't know how much i regretted it...but i thought i did the right thing. for the both of us. even though i just ended up doing what i was trying to avoid by hurting you."

it's too much now, jaehyun's too silent, and too not-angry for your liking; why is he looking at you in a way that makes you feel like he doesn't think you're the worst person in the world? you can't hold back the sob that's building in your chest, doubling over in favour of pressing your hands against your face and bawling into them. you're not too loud a cryer, but the tremors of emotion you feel are making your shoulders shake, so you're crying silently into your hands while trembling. however guarded he tries to be, the gentleness of his voice overpowers it as he speaks. "i know, shh...," he murmurs and you can't believe your ears, that the man you thought hated you is actually attempting to comfort you after everything. "breathe, y/n."

like it's second nature to him, his hand travels to your back as the sobs wrack through your body, immediately drawing soothing circles on to your covered skin with his thumb. you don't know how but this almost makes you feel worse, the fact that he's still so caring towards you. you pluck up the strength to lift your face from your moist hands, and you're sure it's not a pretty sight that greets him. your nose feels unbelievably stuffy, and your face is on fire when you meet his sympathetic eyes, the warmth from his gaze and hand spreading throughout you, even though he's now removed it. "i'm sorry," you manage through sniffles, but you think you almost flatline when he reaches his hand towards your face, ever so gently caressing it. his thumb juts out and sweeps across the skin under your eye, wiping away at the wetness. "i know."

"shh, it's okay. you're okay", he coos gently and slowly takes his hand back in favour of imitating slow breaths for you, helping you relax a little as you copy him. "why would you think i'd leave you?", he asks carefully once you've calmed down a bit and wiped your tear-streaked face, simply surveying you now. all you can offer him is a defeated shrug, attempting to collect your thoughts. "remember i told you about my ex? the very first one?"

he nods.

"i moved on obviously, like ages ago, but since then i think i've always had this idea that getting dumped is inevitable", you try to explain, voice small as he listens patiently. "it was either leave them or get left, and i was so scared that it would happen with you, that i'd fuck up so bad that you would leave. i couldn't do it."

he frowns and calls out your name in a way that sounds like he's about to lecture you, but you know he can't tell you anything that you haven't already told yourself. "i know, jae, it was so stupid, i know. i don't regret anything more", you sigh, giving him a tight, small smile when you lock eyes. "i'm sorry."

you notice his eyes soften at the nickname, releasing a quiet huff before he runs a hand through his hair. his body language doesn't carry the same anger it did before when he was ranting, now looking subdued and reflective. "i understand why you did what you did. it was stupid, but i understand", he murmurs, his voice impossibly soft when meeting your gaze, the eye contact so intense that you have to physically remind yourself not to cry again by digging your fingernails into your palms. "i would've never left you."

you nod slowly at his admission, his words hanging in the air. "i should've just talked to you...", you concluded in a sullen way and he doesn't reply in full, just mumbling a soft "yeah" under his breath. you don't mind the silence that fills the car this time, the underlying tension more or less dissipated, but you do notice the time, realising that jaehyun still needs to go back home after dropping you.

"should we, uh...", you gesture towards the road and he jumps up in his seat, as though he forgot that he was driving you somewhere in the first place, muttering "sorry" before twisting the key to start the car. this makes you let out an involuntary giggle and jaehyun shoots you a quick glare which immediately shuts you up, a certain warmth blooming in your chest when you see a small smile creep on to his face out of the corner of your eye.

it's quiet for a bit, jaehyun focusing on the road while you gaze out the window. much to your dismay, both the road and the various buildings and shops start to look a lot more familiar, indicating that you are nearing your home. you shouldn't be dismayed really, because this wasn't the most congenial of car rides, but it means that your time with jaehyun is coming to an end. you don't know what the conversation that took place means for you and him however, because unless you're alarmingly stupid, you feel that he may not hate you as much as he once did. does this mean you might even be able to see him again sometime? in a setting where you're not sweating and shaking at just the thought of seeing him?

you think it might be a bit audacious of you to ask that, so you don't. instead, you turn to him with a light grin, playing with the necklace clasped around your neck. "hey, at least you got some new headphones out of all of this", you joke lightheartedly, eyeing the package sitting on the backseat. he lets out a heartwarming chuckle at your comment, glancing at the bag through his rear view mirror. "i can't believe your parents bought that for me. you think they'll make me return it when they find out we aren't together?", he remarks, and you do your best to ignore the little pang you feel at the reminder of your situation. his comment does make you snort though, and you nod along with him. "nah, you need it more than anyone. your airpods have seen better days."

he laughs again, and you wouldn't believe that you two were arguing back and forth like madmen some twenty minutes back. this feels familiar and comfortable, and you cross your fingers in case you jinx it. "do you remember that time when we planned a picnic..." jaehyun begins, a sense of nostalgia shining through his cheeks. "and you forgot to bring the speakers? and we tried blasting music through my one airpod?"

you can't stop the peals of laughter that escape from your mouth as you nod, covering your mouth when your snort makes him laugh as well. "remind me why we didn't just play the music straight from your phone?", you question, replaying the memory in your mind like it was recent. he pauses to think for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck while he hums. "yeah, what the fuck? why didn't we just do that?"

you're laughing in unison as you take this trip down memory lane together, the next few minutes of the car ride consisting of exclamations of "oh! remember when..." and "that time when...", both of you adding on to the memories with your own perspectives and insights. the fact that the conclusion of your little dispute remains ambiguous doesn't bother you too much at the moment, happy to just enjoy the warm atmosphere while you can.

jaehyun's animatedly recounting a story about your sister downloading a game on his phone when you face him, and the last thing you remember paying attention to was that she had somehow managed to spend a large amount of his actual money on it. your eyes are focused on him now, just studying him, and he seems to realise that you aren't listening to his story when he glances at you.

"what?", he questions, the corner of his eyes crinkling when he narrows them at you in an playful manner, taking one hand off the steering wheel to drum absentmindedly on his thigh. "nothing, i just...", you trail off, scanning his features. "you changed your hair. it's...nice. i wanted to tell you that earlier."

he clearly wasn't expecting the compliment, mouth opening and then closing as he tries to think of an admissible reply. "you like it?", he then asks, a shy smile tugging at his lips when he consciously cards his fingers through the longer bit at the back. at your reaffirming nod and heavy gaze, the expected pink sheen dusts his cheeks and though you can't see them, you know the tips of his ears are pink too. he mumbles something of a timid "thank you", both of you smiling like idiots while he trains his eyes on the road.

not too soon after, his car is pulling into your dark driveway. you can't help the sinking feeling in your chest, lips curved slightly downwards. none of the lights are on, save for the streetlight, illuminating the street in a ghostly, dim way. your house looks just like it had for the past many months, gloomy and lonely, and you're absolutely dreading the idea of moping around once again. if this day spent with jaehyun has showed you anything, it's that you're a 100% sure you've not moved on, and that you won't for a long, long time. simply put, you're still in love with him, and you'll have to carry the cross of your mistake for some time to come.

he switches the ignition off but neither of you move. you're sat in your dull driveway on an otherwise empty street, all the other lights of your neighbouring houses off. neither of you say anything, mostly because you're not sure what one is supposed to say in this situation, so everything is still.

"so–"

"well–"

you let out a nervous chuckle while he smiles a bit, both of you mumbling apologies for interrupting each other. "you go first", jaehyun compels you, but now you don't know what to say because you were just going to make it up as you speak. your mouth has a way of working faster than your brain sometimes, but neither seem to be too functional at the present moment. "no, you go", is all you got, and jaehyun has the nerve to roll his eyes, twisting in his seat a little so he's facing you.

"i was just going to say that we uh, reached your place", he claims in a deadpanned manner, but your car door is still locked and your seatbelt is still locked in. you think you must have lost your mind, hoping that he'd tell you to stay with him forever and never leave (which you would have agreed to in a heartbeat). "i guess we have...", you nod, looking out the window and observing your home. maybe it was the dread of going back to your old routine that gave you the sudden boost of confidence, but you realise he never answered your question from before.

"jaehyun...", you begin but falter when you think you might be overstepping, ultimately deciding to just ask anyway when he looks at you expectantly. "why did you agree to come today? we both know you didn't have to."

he looks like he was dreading the very question you asked for some time, shutting his eyes when he leans his head back against the headrest and sighs. "i don't know", is the answer he gives you, voice muffled through the palms of his hands that are rubbing his face tiredly. biting your lip, you have to hold back a similar sigh because you should've known he's not going to just tell you like that. you have no right to press, but yet you do, one more time. "jaehyun, please?"

maybe it's because you sound so meek, but he drops his hands in favour of looking at you, really looking at you, like he's searching your eyes. "why do you think?", he turns it back on you, but you know this is just his way of avoiding the question. "if i knew, i wouldn't be asking. i know you don't have to tell me, you don't owe me a single thing, i just–", you speak desperately with all of the confidence you can muster, worried that your bottom lip would start trembling again. "please, i need to know."

you're looking each other dead in the eye, and while your voice isn't strong, it's honest and raw, and jaehyun can sense that. you can see that there's a million thoughts running in his mind just by the pained look in his eye and your own heartbeat has picked up, the sound deafening in your ears.

"if you haven't figured it out by now, i don't know what to tell you."

thud. thud. thud. you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat over the sound of his, but the blood pumping through your veins is making your ears ring, because what did he mean by that? you hope it means what you want it to mean, but you can't just assume you know everything because you're delusional at this point. "jaehyun, what are you sayi–"

"i agreed because i'm still in love with you."

there it is. the silence after his confession is positively deafening, your mouth agape as your try to register what you just heard. your eyes flicker between his, searching for any signs that he's just messing you and that it's some cruel joke, though it would be completely in his right to fuck with you if he wanted. he's never looked more vulnerable, eyes trained on you in an almost frantic way, like he himself can't believe what he just said. the way he just blurted it out makes you think that he didn't fully mean to admit that, but it's out, nothing he could do to take it back.

"what?", your own voice sounds like an echo and you wish you had something else to say because you heard him loud and clear, but there's a burning ache in your chest that claws all the way up to your throat. the shock is evident in your voice, not knowing what to do with yourself as you visibly process his words. "tell me you're joking", you plead in a pained way, words barely above a whisper. he doesn't say anything, looking lost in his own thoughts as his eyes scan your face. "you don't hate me?"

"hate you?", he scoffs disconsolately, shaking his head slowly. "i couldn't hate you if i tried. and believe me, i tried."

you can hardly believe your ears. you know your heart shouldn't be pounding the way it is, it feels wrong almost for you to be feeling as relieved as you are. "after everything?", you insist dumbfoundedly, but the longing in your voice is palpable, even if you're trying to give him a way out. "i was so horrible to you, jaehyun." you hate the way your voice cracks, but jaehyun just sighs and offers you a sad smile.

"there's nothing you could do to make me hate you."

it's heartbreaking, how defeated he sounds, but he's also looking at you like you could do no wrong in his eyes. "i never moved on", you whisper, hesitance clear as you tell him the truth. "i couldn't delete any of our pictures, i still have all your clothes, sometimes i accidentally set the table for two when it's just me..."

he's blinking quickly, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say he was trying to hold back tears. your break-up did nothing but cause immense amounts of pain for the both of you, and you'd give anything in the world to make up the time lost. his wide-eyed and nearly motionless expression urges you to continue, ready to pour out your heart to the man you loved.

"i still have your number memorised", your face mirrors his, voice growing stronger by the minute. "all the gifts and letters you've ever given me, they're all still there in that shoebox in my cupboard."

"i thought about you everyday", his whisper is raspy, speaking right after you do. "every party i went to, i looked for you even though i knew you wouldn't be there. you know johnny tried setting me up with people?"

you try to suppress the little sting, but you feel it deep inside you. "he did?", you have to clear your throat, and you almost don't want to ask but you do anyway. he releases a sad little chuckle and nods, toying with his fingers. "yeah. i knew i was doomed when the whole date, i wished she was you."

the smile finds its way on to your face against your will, feeling that familiar lump make its way to your throat. "she could've made you happy, jae", you argue anyway because at the end of the day, you want the best for him, and you know you're far from the best.

"no one could make me feel the way you do, y/n", he replied honestly, and there's a sense of finality to his words, like he'd had this same argument with himself time and time again, only to come to this conclusion. “the thought of anyone else touching you made me sick”, he croaked, not missing the way his eyes ghost over your frame.

his words bring about a noticeable shift in the air, followed by silence. he watches you, and you watch him, breathing slow as your eyes dart across his face.”i don’t want anyone but you”, you confess slowly, and a few beats pass before you find it in you to speak again. "i love you, jaehyun."

silence.

you expected disapproval, maybe even a malicious scoff, but you certainly weren't expecting to feel a soft pair of lips against yours as he suddenly lurches forward.

you're stunned, so stunned that you don't even reciprocate the kiss, lips unmoving against his. it's only when he takes this as a sign of discomfort and breaks the kiss that you find yourself reacting, hands immediately making their way to caress his cheeks, leaning forward to chase his lips and close the distance between you. he lets out a sound of surprise against your lips but kisses you back right away, a hand wrapping around your neck from the back, tangling itself in your hair. the kiss is heated and so long overdue, tangible through the way his lips meld furiously together with yours, teeth clashing every now and then.

your hands make their way to his broad shoulders, one wrapping around them while the other comes to rest on his chest, gripping the material of his hoodie. you have the urge to be impossibly close to him, trying to lean forward to kiss him more fully but you're restricted by your seatbelt. it's almost as if he can read your mind, because the hand placed against your face now moves to press on the buckle to release you without breaking the kiss. "fucking seatbelt...", he mumbles disgruntedly against your lips, fiddling with the button until you hear it click, finally separating yourself from him to slip it over you. "there we go."

you don't stay separated for long because jaehyun uses the hand behind your head to pull you towards him again, capturing your lips in a way that makes all the air leave your lungs. "come here", he grunts, using his long arms to pull you clumsily over the gearshift and straight on to his lap. you settle yourself in to the somewhat awkward position in the enclosed space, but that's the last thing on your mind when all your thoughts consist of jaehyun, jaehyun, jaehyun. his lips are back on yours in a instance, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip messily and you gladly allow it to explore your mouth.

the air is impossibly thick, heavily contrasting to the cold weather outside the car, even his lips and hands feel warm against your hot body. you feel his hands grip your waist easily in this position, lips leaving your own to drag across the expanse of your jaw. you whine quietly at the feeling of his mouth sucking a particular spot on your neck, tilting your head back as you wrap your arms around his neck. "missed this", he muses, tongue peeking out to kitten lick at your neck, breath hot against your sensitive skin. "missed you."

the feeling in your chest when his hands find their way under your shirt and on to your bare skin is inexplicable, unable to stop the soft moan from tumbling from your lips when his big hands glide over your stomach, back and finally your breasts. everything about the way he's touching you and kissing you is greedy and urgent, like he's afraid you'll disappear from his arms if he loosens his grip even by a little bit. you'd be a fool to not match this energy, pressing into him while you squeeze your hands over his. "need you so bad, jae."

you're subconsciously grinding down against him needily, hips stuttering against his lap like you've never been touched before. "fuck", your eyes widen at the groan that leaves his throat, sounding absolutely guttural as he grips the skin of your hip harshly.

he's barely done anything and you're coming undone right in front of his watchful eyes, your panties dampening at the look on his face. "jae..", you whine when his fingers dip past the waistband of your pants, gently cupping your clothed core as you rut against it. "shit, baby", he marvels at the stickiness of your panties, feeling your wetness on his fingers just through the material. "you really missed me, huh?"

you don't even have the time to respond to his cocky remark before his fingers are slipping beneath the band of your panties to circle your clit, spreading the wetness around your folds. a breathy sigh escapes your lips, throwing your head back as he experimentally prods at your entrance and eventually slips a finger inside. "still so tight for me", he all but groans, pumping his finger in and out of you languidly, drinking in the sounds of your pleasure. he feels so blissfully familiar, and though you haven't been touched by him, or anyone for that matter for months, the stretch of his second finger feels the same kind of intimate as it did before, if not more.

you lean forward and press your lips against his once again, kissing him like you might never get the chance to again, all while you're grinding back down on his hand that's fingering you steadily with a thumb circling your clit at the same time. his free hand moves to bunch your top up above your breasts, peppering kisses over the tops of them. he wastes no time in pulling your breasts free from from their cups, attaching his lips to one nipple and swirling his tongue around it in a way that makes you cry out. "my pretty girl", he mumbles almost to himself while cupping your other breast, making a show out of it as his tongue flicks over your hardened bud over and over until your arching your back and pressing it further into his face. “thought about this all the time.”

keeping in mind that you're still technically in a public place, you bite your lip to contain the sounds of your pleasure, though jaehyun doesn't make it easy when he notices this and increases the pace of his fingers. the hand fondling your breast leaves it unattended for a moment to release your bottom lip from your teeth, smoothing his thumb over the swollen skin. "i've waited months to hear these sounds. let me hear you, baby", he all but purrs and that's all it takes for a moan to tumble out of your mouth, pressing your forehead against the side of his face while you screw your eyes shut out of pleasure.

with his attack on your sensitive buds and his fingers pistoning inside of you, you know you aren't going to last long. "already?", jaehyun chides with a small smirk, and it's embarrassing how well he knows your body, grazing his teeth against your nipple in a way that feels painful and heavenly at the same time. you can feel his rock hard bulge against you, and with the untimely grinding of your hips against him, you're sure this is torturous for him. "don't wanna come like this", you whine against his cheek, your entire body feeling sticky from the heat inside the closed vehicle. your puckered lips leave wet kisses all over the expanse of his cheek, and the boyish giggle that leaves his mouth makes your heart flutter. "wanna feel you, jae."

his head is thrown back against the headrest and his eyes are shut tightly, jaw clenched as he slowly slips his fingers out of you. though you whine at the loss of contact and you're almost grinding against the air, you want nothing more than to make him feel good as well. "want you to fill me up", you coo at him, softly linking your hands behind his neck as you test the waters with your words. it's clear they have an effect on him, both hands placed on your hips as he helps you lazily grind against his erection. "don't– have a condom", he grits out, hips bucking up to meet yours. "don't need one", you murmured immediately, knowing he wants this as bad as you do.

his eyes flicker open at that, one hand leaving your hip to brush some stray hairs away from your face, gently tucking some behind your ear. you could melt at the way he's looking at you, so tender and loving, a warmth spreading all over you until you feel like you have to look away. he doesn't let you however, hand quickly coming you to cup your cheek before leaning in place a small peck against your lips. "are you sure?", he sounds breathless, but still firm as his eyes glance between yours like he's reading them.

if he can read them, he'll know that you can't nod fast enough, dragging your hips across his needily to show him. "i'm sure. i want you, jae.", you're so needy that you don't even bother to take your pants or panties off fully, fingers fumbling with the waistband as you shimmy them down a little, leaving your underwear on. you swear your mouth waters when he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring out against his stomach, lustful eyes taking in the way he keeps his shirt up with his teeth. if this weren't such an awkward position, you'd have taken him in your mouth in an instant, knowing exactly what to do to hear the man in front of you whimper.

nudging your panties to the side, he focuses on collecting your wetness all over the tip of his dick, hissing at the contact. "please", you whine, not wanting to waste another moment, finally sighing in relief when he begins to press his cock inside you. he swears under his breath at the feeling, and you're feeling so stretched out just from him slipping it in even though you're still so wet that you just go lax in his arms until he bottoms out. "that's it", he grunts like he's holding back. "taking me so well, angel."

you preen at his praise, finally beginning to move your hips a little at his coaxing. sighing against the shell of his ear, he picks up the pace for you, not warning you before thrusting upwards to meet your movements with a groan. you can feel your mind going blank at the sensation, your moans sounding more like cries whenever he snaps his hips into yours, the obscene sounds filling the car. you're just so full, his hands gliding up and down your sides as he fucks deep inside you, making up for all the lost time. "you feel so good, baby", he barely gets his words out, but it gives you the encouragement to bounce up and down on his thick cock a little faster than before, his eyes widening at the feeling. "just like that."

he's kissing and sucking all over your neck again, lips ghosting over whatever skin he can reach and it's all so much, feeling a single tear stream down your face. he almost slows down for a second when he feels the tear drop on to his own face, eyebrows raised in surprise because he thinks he's hurting you, but he's even more shocked when you let out the high-pitched whine. "what's wrong, angel?", he mumbles into your neck, peering up at you carefully. you shake your head profusely, continuing to grind down on his cock. "i just- just love you so much, jae", you blabber incoherently, so wet that you're practically gushing around his dick.

"aw, baby", he shushes you sweetly, pressing his forehead against yours as his thrusts become more and more erratic. "i'm here. not going anywhere." the coil in your stomach is tightening and you can feel every inch of him inside you, more tears threatening to spill from your eyes before he's kissing them away. "i'm here."

he's hitting all the right spots inside you in this position, and he's basically doing all the work because you're like putty in his strong arms, all you can do is moan and cry out against him weakly. "i'm close", you warn him, but you know he already knows that, and you know he is too, slipping your hand down to where his rests on your hip and interlacing your fingers. "me too, pretty", he sputters through his teeth, giving your hand a tight squeeze as you start to come undone. “want you to cum. can you do that for me?”

"oh my god", you're crying out as you cum around his cock, body and mind going numb and ears ringing as the coil finally snaps. "cum inside me, jae, please", his eyes go wide at the way you're begging him, and he doesn't look like he can hold back much longer. "fuck angel, you- you sure–"

"yes, please, need you to fill me up", you cut him off, too sensitive from the way he's helping you ride out your high to move anymore. with a few more sloppy thrusts, his cock is twitching inside you before you lets out a guttural groan, his warm cum filling you up. you go limp against him, face nuzzled into the crook of his neck as the both of you try to regulate your heartbeats.

the sounds of your heavy breathing fills up the car along with jaehyun's soft murmurs of "so perfect" and "did so well for me". any doubts you had in your mind of this being a mistake in jaehyun's eyes are wiped away when he begins petting your head, gently smoothing your messy hair as he presses firm kisses to your head. his cock softens inside of you but he makes no move to pull out, wrapping his arms around your waist while you do the same around his neck, simply sitting in each other's presence silently.

you struggle but finally pick yourself up, gazing at his moonlit face from your place on his lap. “you okay? was that okay?”, he murmurs softly, his voice thick and eyes hazy as he traces little shapes on your back. “more than okay”, you reply tiredly, pressing your lips against his once again because you feel you’re in a dream-like state right now. you're sure he's the most beautiful man you're ever had the privilege of looking at, feeling incredibly vulnerable when you speak again even though he's looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes. "now what?", you question, suddenly feeling like you've jumped the gun when he opens his mouth to say something but stays silent. "never mind, don't answer that, we'll talk about it later", you shake your head, laughing a little breathlessly when he grins at you, pecking his forehead sweetly.

you look away from him and at your lifeless house, mouth working faster than your brain once again. "would you...want to come in?", you wince, feeling kind of stupid for asking but meaning it anyway. you're both comforted and thrilled when a large grin is plastered on to his face, feeling like maybe your home won't be as lifeless anymore.

"i think i'd love to come in."

[smileysuh]

love language

🌙 starring. Jung Jaehyun x afab!Reader 

🔮 preview. “I think that’s why I like you so much,” Jaehyun admits. “I know you had no idea who I was when we met. My whole professional basketball thing didn’t mean anything to you; hell, you’ve catered for A-list actors and politicians and all sorts of people. You just treat me like a person, and that's kind of rare. Most people give at least a tiny shit about sports, but you seriously don’t give any.”

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, multiple reader orgasms, pussy eating, fingering, body worship, breast worship, foreplay, slow build up, dirty talk, praise, simp!Jaehyun, mutual orgasms, soft worshipy sex, Jae is low-key obsessed with her, etc… I pet names: (her) angel.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.6k 

🍭 aus. athlete!Jaehyun, Private Chef!y/n, strangers to lovers, slowburn, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I don’t know anything about the details of being a private chef or a professional basketball player, but I thought this was a cute concept for fanfic, so here it is :)

Prologue:

Your body is surging with endorphins as you look out at all your fellow contestants. The white chef's coat that you’ve been wearing for the duration of the three-hour finale cook feels hot and wet with sweat- anyone who tells you professional cooking isn’t labour-intensive can get fucked as far as you’re concerned. Hell, you’d almost cut yourself in the entree round, and your heart has been racing ever since.

“So now that you’ve won season ten of Top Cook, where do you see yourself going?” the host asks, pushing the microphone toward you.

You take a deep breath, still trying to steady yourself, and your hands are shaking at your sides. “I really don’t know. I always thought maybe I’d build a restaurant, but you know, a lot of alumni from the show have gone into private catering, and that’s always been an interest of mine. Maybe a cookbook. So I guess we will have to see.”

“I think we’re all very excited to see where you go in your culinary journey,” the host smiled. “Any final takeaways from this whole experience?”

Another gasp for air, the cogs in your mind turning at a rapid pace. “I think, at the end of the day, food and cooking for others, that’s my love language, and I’m never going to stop doing what I love.” 

One:

Since gaining your title as Top Cook two years ago, you’ve written a cookbook and done several private catering events for the filthy rich, but you’ve never been in a home like this one. 

It’s an ultra-modern design, all right angles and large glass windows to let in the LA sunshine. The interior is very minimalistic, but it’s clear to you that every piece of furniture is expensive, and the home smells brand new, as if the man next to you is a real estate agent and not the manager of your new client.

Doyoung is a regal man. He’s dressed in a suit, and his hair is styled just so. He’d already explained to you that he works for his cousin, Jaehyun, who is a renowned professional basketball player whose contract was recently renewed with a groundbreaking salary bump.

He’d explained that Jaehyun is in need of a personal chef. That he’d already had a dietician do a full diagnostic, the details of which are in an inch-thick folder he’d handed to you. So here you are, carrying around your new research material, as Doyoung shows you the home. 

“This is where you’ll primarily be working,” Doyoung explains as you enter one of the most beautiful kitchens you’ve ever seen. Sure, it’s a little medical in its all white template, but the marble countertop of the oversized island is spectacular, and the gas stovetop looks custom and extremely expensive. 

“You’re free to arrange things in here however you’d like, and that goes for the outdoor kitchen as well.” Doyoung leads you through a set of adjoining French doors. 

It’s as if you’ve stepped onto the set of Barbecue Masters or something- there’s an entire covered outdoor cooking space. You immediately notice three different smokers and a pizza oven, along with every other appliance you could ever need for barbecue. 

“I presume you’re familiar with everything you see here?” Doyoung asks.

“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing thickly. It’s not entirely a lie; you recognize all the tools, but you can’t say you’ve used all of them. But… how hard can it be to look up how to properly use an egg smoker? 

“I’ll let you get acquainted with everything later, but for now, I’ll show you where you’ll be living.”

To your surprise, Doyoung doesn’t go back to the main house; he continues through the outdoor kitchen. You stumble to follow, tripping over yourself as you walk past the large pool. 

“This is a casita that we had built before Jaehyun moved in,” Doyoung explains, punching a code into the keypad that lets him open the door. “It’s one thousand square feet, fully furnished, includes a kitchen, living room, flex area, bedroom, ample closet space, and one bathroom.”

Now he definitely feels like a real estate agent. 

“Since you’ll be Jaehyun’s chef, you’ll be living on the property for the duration of your time of employment. We did discuss this over the phone when I conducted your first interview.”

“That’s correct,” you nod. 

“You’ll find Jaehyun’s schedule for breakfast, lunch, and dinner in your folder,” Doyoung tells you. “Other than those three meals, prep time, and clean up, you’re free to do as you wish. We have many facilities on the property, and you are welcome to them.”

“Only three meals a day?” you question. “Am I on call for random snacking or spur-of-the-moment munchies?”

Doyoung cocks his head at you. “Look, I’ll be honest with you. Jaehyun parties too much. He eats too much junk food and drinks too much alcohol. The new food schedule and hiring you as his private chef are measures intended to get him onto a regimented track so he doesn’t mess up this new contract and opportunity with his basketball career.”

“Oh.” You think about it for a moment. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Jaehyun will not be doing any of the shopping. If he tries to ask you for Takis, chips, or beer, you are to say no. The only ingredients bought should be things that are necessary for his meals. You also have a live out allowance of two hundred dollars a day to buy any food you’d like for yourself, other than what you cook for him. All details about that are in your folder.”

“I’ll take some time to look over it,” you assure him.

“Good.” Doyoung lets out a sigh, as if this whole introduction had been tedious for him. “Now, I’ll introduce you to Jaehyun, and we will conclude the tour.”

You set the folder down and follow Doyoung from the casita. While you’d seen the outdoor kitchen and pool part of the yard, it turns out there’s an entire basketball court just out of view, and that’s where you find one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen. He’s practicing shooting hoops, and as you stand there and watch, you see five hoops in a row before he turns to you.

“Oh my God, you’re y/n!” Jaehyun’s eyes light up, and he jogs over, holding out a hand for you to shake. 

As you’re reaching for it, he abruptly pulls back.

“Sorry, I’m sweaty.” Jaehyun rubs his palms on his red jersey, and you can see his cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment. 

This is the pro basketball player who just signed on for a multimillion-dollar contract? He’s way too boyish- 

“I’m uh, a huge fan from your Top Cook days,” Jaehyun admits, having a second go at shaking your hand.

“You are?” you ask in shock. 

“Definitely, the season you were on was showing during the time when I was first hired for my current team. The guys all watch Top Cook on flights and other shit, we were all on your side to win the finale.”

You can’t wrap your head around a basketball team watching competitive cooking shows in their free time.

“I uh, actually requested you by name,” Jaehyun says shyly. “When Doyoung said I needed a private chef, you were the only person I wanted to hire.”

You’d assumed Doyoung had scouted you out, and there’s something special about the fact that Jaehyun had been the one to actually make the choice.

“I always sort of resonated with what you said about food and love languages. I grew up in Korea, but I did most of my schooling in Connecticut, and we had this one maid or housekeeper or whatever you want to call her, and she was like my second mom,” Jaehyun admits. “She always said the same thing about cooking for the soul and from your heart, and no dish is complete without a bit of love sprinkled in- I know it’s kind of cringy, but I don’t know. You kind of remind me of her, in some twisted way.” 

So… this man has some mommy issues, some issues about transference of affection to a housekeeper, maybe a maid who cooked for him, and now you’ll be the woman of the house who controls his diet. This isn’t a psychological madhouse at all. 

“I appreciate that you thought of me,” you end up saying, choosing your public relations training over verbalizing what’s going on inside your head. “This is a wonderful opportunity, and I can’t wait to get started.”

“I have a meeting,” Doyoung sighs, “But here’s your credit card for purchasing food, your folder explains where receipts will go for accounting purposes, and here are the keys to one of the SUVs to make grocery runs or other trips.” 

As you take the keys and credit card, there’s a shiver that runs through you. You’re really doing this. Taking a live-in private chef job for a young basketball star who’s apparently obsessed with you hadn’t been your first intention when you won Top Cook, but fuck it, the money is too good to pass up on. 

Two:

You’ve been working for Jaehyun for about a week now, and you already feel like you’re acclimatizing to the schedule. 

Jaehyun works out every morning, and the breakfast you provide for him afterward is his jumpstart to the day. You make up three plates, one for Jaehyun, one for Doyoung, and Jaehyun had insisted you make one for yourself as well.

You pick at your food while cleaning the kitchen, and Doyoung goes over the schedule for the day with Jaehyun in the dining room or outside by the pool deck. 

Lunch is more sporadic, and Jaehyun favours easy handheld items. His favourite seems to be various meats with parilla leaf or veg, but he’s also up for shawarma wraps, burgers, and anything he can shovel into his mouth- as long as it fits a detailed protein-to-carb ratio as outlined in the folder you’ve done your best to memorize. 

Dinners are the most elaborate, but you enjoy cooking them the most. Jaehyun’s not very picky, so you’ve had the freedom to branch out and try cooking things that many clients would reject. 

Fridays are the one day of the week when a lean dessert is allowed, so tonight, you’re making green tea frozen yogurt. The sun has set, and dinner was over an hour ago. You’ve cleaned up the kitchen while the ice cream maker quietly whirls next to you, and you’re so focused you don’t even realize Jaehyun has entered the kitchen until he says, “Hi.”  

Your body reacts, jolting with shock, and you spin to look at your client.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, dimples on display as he rubs the back of his neck. 

“The frozen yogurt will be ready soon,” you assure him.

“I’m not in a rush,” he tells you, sitting at the large island countertop. “Doyoung just left, and it’s been a busy week. I haven’t been able to talk to you much, so I figured now would be a good time to get to know you better.”

Your heart thumps roughly in your chest, and you swallow the lump in your throat. “Oh.” You pat your hands on your apron, deciding to finish up your morning prep after Jaehyun is gone so you can give him your full attention. “What do you want to know?”

“I mean… tell me about being a private chef?” he suggests. “I seriously thought you’d do the whole restaurant thing; it seemed like that was a dream of yours.”

You consider his question. “Honestly, I know I’m young, and I think I was intimidated by the… caliber of chefs I was contending with. Winning Top Cook was one thing, but competing in the restaurant industry is an entire other monster.”

“I can understand that.”

You stare at him for a moment. “Did you ever feel apprehensive when you got into basketball?”

“I mean, if you spend the whole time looking around at the other players, you’re never going to dunk any hoops.”

A giggle escapes you, and you quickly cover your mouth. Jaehyun grins, chuckling along with you at the metaphor he’s just used. 

“I think I just had to hope my reputation and skills preceded me, especially since I started pretty young,” Jaehyun admits. 

“I suppose you’re right,” you agree. “It might be a little different, though. I mean, some people are very familiar with my work, but it’s a bit of a niche. I’m sure you get recognized everywhere you go.” 

Jaehyun only shrugs. “I think you’re pretty cool. Most of my team would recognize you on the streets.”

“Well, I’m flattered to hear that.” 

Jaehyun smiles, looking down at his hands for a moment. “That reminds me, some of my teammates are coming over on Tuesday for dinner, I hope that’s okay.”

“Definitely. What would you like me to cook for them?”

The basketball star considers it for a moment. “I want to say elevated but simple, and my mind keeps going to burgers for some reason.”

“I can elevate a burger,” you assure him. “We could do bison or lamb instead of beef if you want, that sort of thing, add cheese to the patty depending on what you prefer.”

“That sounds good,” Jaehyun nods. “Surprise me.”

“Will do.” Yet another instance of you having creative freedom, and it feels so good.

“I uh… I should warn you, most of the guys coming are pretty charming- not as charming as me-”

“Of course not,” you giggle.

Jaehyun grins. “They all love you from your time on Top Cook. Some of them were pretty pissed when I was able to hire you. So… don’t let any poach you away from me, okay? No matter how charming they are.” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m pretty impervious to flirting.”

Jaehyun lets out a laugh. “You are, huh?” 

“I’m single and I’m focused on food, so you could say I’m married to being a chef.”

“Right, food is your love language,” Jaehyun nods. “It’s nice to know you’re loyal.”

“To a fault, at times,” you admit.

“Making a living doing what you love is important,” Jaehyun notes. “We’re lucky we’re both able to do that, even if it can get in the way of… You know, other relationships.”

Money and Love can often get muddled, and to pursue one can sometimes mean giving up the other, at least for a short while. 

Before the conversation gets too deep, you realize the ice cream maker has finished, and the topic changes, which is a nice reprieve. 

Three:

You had decided to do two different types of burgers, a lean bison option, and a fattier lamb version, too. Both have their own cheese pairings, and other elaborate mixtures such as an olive tapenade and yogurt for the lamb, and smoky chipotle bacon jam for the bison.

While you cook at the outdoor barbecue, the boys are littered around the pool area. A few had been kind of star-struck when they met you, but none more so than Johnny, who has taken to standing next to you and discussing food pairings.

Johnny is a hundred percent hitting on you, but he’s also making cocktails for his teammates, cracking jokes like, “Maybe you should hold off on the sweeteners, Mark, we’ve already got the sweetest chef in town,” and other cringy one-liners that make you laugh and shake your head.

Finally, Johnny lets out a sigh. “I’ll talk business now, if you don’t mind.”

“By all means.”

“What’s Jae paying you? Because I will pay more.” 

You look over at Johnny, and then your eyes find Jaehyun, who’s watching you from a lounger. He’s been watching you and Johnny a lot, and you realize that Johnny is the man Jaehyun was worried about poaching you.

While you’re not huge into basketball, you know about Johnny Suh. He’s a little older than Jaehyun, and he’s had good contracts for longer, too, so he could definitely afford more for a private chef than rising star Jaehyun.

“I don’t think I’m at liberty to discuss my salary,” you admit.

“That’s a rich person's answer,” Johnny laughs. “Your PR training is kicking in, little Miss Top Cook.”

Jaehyun stands in the periphery of your vision, and he comes to join you at the barbecue.

“You’re trying to poach my chef, aren’t you, Suh?” he asks.

“Maybe.” Johnny only grins. “It would be stupid of me not to try.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m not entertaining his monkey business,” you tease.

“That’s my girl,” Jaehyun nods, and a jolt fires through you.

This type of brush with wealth is somewhat new to you. Most private catering events are a one-and-done type of deal, where other prospective clients have no worries about approaching to enquire about your services.

Being a private chef to a basketball star is a whole different ball game - pardon the pun - and you’re becoming increasingly aware that being a cute, young female in this style of industry must be something of a commodity. 

Regardless of the money, however, you’re very happy working for Jaehyun, and although he’s given you a few flirty glances, you know he respects you for your talent as a chef, and not just your body. He gives you freedom, and now that you’ve had a taste of that, you’re not willing to give it up- even if a six-foot-plus gorgeous basketball star named Johnny is promising to make all your dreams come true. 

Four:

You’ve been working for Jaehyun for two months now, and things are going very well. While there are some flirty interactions with Jaehyun, for the most part, everything is professional and easy, and you couldn’t wish for a better job.

You’re cleaning up the kitchen after making breakfast for Jaehyun and Doyoung, and while your mind is half consumed with scrubbing grease off the stove, in the back corner of your periphery, you hear the words, “PR relationship.”

Trying not to make it obvious you’re listening, you slow down on your cleanup. 

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” Jaehyun sighs.

“PR relationships are always contracted to be mutually beneficial,” Doyoung insists. “Rose is an up-and-coming model, and her manager sent over a proposal. It’s very… Kendall Jenner and Blake Griffin, or any of the other relationships she was in with big-name men that the public saw as potentially PR related. It could be good for your image.”

“Right,” Jaehyun chuckles. “Kendall Jenner and Blake Griffin, or any of the other relationships she was in… I don’t want to be just ‘one of those guys.’” 

“It would draw in viewership,” Doyoung points out. “There’s a whole audience of young women who are interested in Rose but not in sports. If Rose comes to your games, it would potentially draw more fans, more revenue, more-”

“Money,” Jaehyun cuts his cousin off. “Yeah, I understand.”

“Meanwhile, Rose will gain attention from the sports world. She could come to events, meet your team, and open up brand deal opportunities.”

“I get the reason why people do PR relationships,” Jaehyun repeats. “But I don’t think that’s something I ever want to try. You know how it is, some famous athlete starts dating a superstar, and his game goes downhill.”

“This isn’t about Travis Kelce,” Doyoung tuts.

“I didn’t say his name, you did.”

You can practically hear Doyoung roll his eyes. “I must insist that the two of you meet each other. Your opinion on Rose might change over some dinner.”

“As long as it’s dinner here and not some bougie restaurant.” 

There’s silence for a few moments, then Doyoung sighs. “Fine. I have a meeting to go to, but I’ll set up the date.”

“The meet up,” Jaehyun corrects.

Doyoung clicks his tongue as he collects his belongings, and as he exits through the kitchen, he stops at the island counter. “Please plan for a special meeting this Thursday between Jaehyun and a VIP,” Doyoung tells you. “The VIP is vegan, so you’ll have to work around that.”

You turn to face him, nodding as you wipe your hands on the apron. “Absolutely.”

“A cocktail pairing would also be nice.”

“I’ve got a few in mind already,” you assure him.

Doyoung nods, and with that, he exits. 

Once it’s clear Doyoung is gone, Jaehyun enters the kitchen with a sigh. “Did you hear any of that bullshit?”

“Bits and pieces,” you respond.

“Can you believe he’s trying to set me up with a model?”

“And a vegan, at that,” you sympathize with a laugh.

“I don’t think I’ll survive this.”

“I can sneak some meat onto your plate or something,” you tell him. “The only problem will be you won’t be able to kiss her after, because, you know, that might be considered a vegan lack of consent or something.”

Jaehyun stares at you in shock for a moment, then a laugh bursts out of him. “Holy shit. I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

“I’d hardly say you agreed to it. Doyoung strong-armed you,” you point out.

“So you were listening,” Jaehyun teases.

“I find it interesting, is all.” You shrug. “I’m just glad I don’t have to deal with this type of thing. I’m just a D-list celebrity chef.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

“Not bad, just a fact.”

“Well, you’re an A-lister to me, so watch out for PR relationship requests.”

“I’m so scared,” you joke. 

“You should be,” Jaehyun teases, and you both laugh at the notion. 

Being with Jaehyun is so easy, and you wonder in what ways you’ll have to censor yourself when it comes time for this ‘date’ with Rose.

Five:

Rose has only been here for ten minutes, and you can practically feel the awkwardness radiating from the dining room as you finish up dinner.

The model is dressed in a skimpy little outfit. She has a black miniskirt and a red, silky, patterned shirt that looks like it could be a scarf she’s simply repurposed. Her stilettos look uncomfortable at best, and the amount of filler in her lips and face would be outlandish even by doctor standards.

But… you’re trying not to judge, as you toss the vegan salad, and cook the vegan mushroom steak with vegan coconut thai soup.

The cocktails you had prepared are a coconut base too, but you’ve already heard Rose make a statement about coconuts being high in calories so… well, you’re not sure how any of this will be received. 

Jaehyun is much quieter than usual; however, from how much Rose is gushing about her different modeling gigs, and being in Italy, and Paris, and France, and God knows where- it’s not like the basketball player has much room to voice his own opinion.

As you begin plating, you sense eyes on you, and you look up to see Jaehyun.

“Give me a moment,” he excuses himself from the dining room, quickly joining you by the stove. “Oh, great, mushrooms and vegan things!” he says loudly.

“Are you okay?” you whisper as you plate. 

“This is the worst idea Doyoung has ever had,” he says back under his breath.

“You’re doing great.”

“I’m not doing anything. I’m just sitting there while she talks at me.”

You stifle a laugh. “It will be over before you know it.”

“It will be, which is why,” Jaehyun takes a breath, increasing the volume of his voice, “I insist you join us for supper.”

“Huh?” You nearly drop the tweezers you’re using to put the final garnish on the dishes.

“Have dinner with us,” Jaehyun repeats. “This is me insisting.”

Your gaze moves to the dining room, and Rose is glaring at you. If her eyes had lasers, you - along with the entire kitchen - would be lit aflame.

“I couldn’t possibly intrude-” you try to weasel your way out of it, but Jaehyun flashes you a hard look.

“I insist,” he says, yet again, and you realize you’ve lost.

With a sigh, you grab two of the plates, and to your surprise, Jaehyun grabs the third, following you to the dining room. You hesitantly place Rose’s food down, and then Jaehyun’s.

“So, Rose, I don’t know if you know my chef. Her name is y/n, and she won Top Cook, which is a super intense, very competitive cooking show,” Jaehyun explains. “I personally requested her, because she’s very renowned. She’s written a cookbook and done many private events. She’s just amazing.”

You stand there in shock at what Jaehyun has just said. On instinct, you begin to regurgitate what the dinner is tonight, and Rose watches you with narrowed eyes.

“So, the soup is coconut cream-based?” she asks.

“With vegetable broth.”

“It’s so thick,” she grimaces, swirling a spoon in the beautiful orange curry liquid. “And so high calorie.”

“Well, in this house, we cook for flavour and substance,” Jaehyun says pointedly as he takes his seat. “But there’s salad for you.”

Now Rose is glaring at Jaehyun, who simply smiles to himself as he takes his first taste of the soup. 

“Oh my god, I wouldn’t even be able to tell this is vegan, amazing job,” he tells you.

Rose audibly rotates her plate so she has the salad in front of her, and then, she begins to pick at it.

“So what inspired the food?” Jaehyun asks, giving you his full attention.

“Well, some people use mushrooms to substitute for meat. It’s not unusual for a large slab of meat to be on top of a currey or ramen bowl, so I wanted to do that for the mushroom.” You feel like your words are getting away from you, and you’re so uncomfortable to be in this position that you can hardly think.

“Turns out Rose doesn’t really like coconut drinks,” Jaehyun muses, already reaching for the untouched glass, “how about you enjoy it since she won’t.”

“I really shouldn’t-”

“You really should,” Jaehyun corrects you. “I’m not supposed to drink alone, says that somewhere in the instruction manual Doyoung gave you, right?” 

You suppose that’s true, so you take a sip of the coconut margarita. 

Jaehyun begins to talk about all the food you’ve cooked since becoming his personal chef, and before you know it, he’s done eating. With a happy sigh, he pushes his plate away, and you jump at the opportunity to grab it and escape to the kitchen. 

You begin your cleanup routine, happy to be out of the awkward situation. But you can still hear Jaehyun and Rose talking, and Jaehyun is very clear when he says, “This isn’t going to work.”

“It would be good for our careers,” Rose argues.

“My career is set already, but thank you for your concern.”

“So that’s it?” she gasps. “After I wore entirely designer, got my hair done, did everything for you-”

“You could have shown up in Fashion Nova, and this still wouldn’t have worked,” Jaehyun tells her. 

“Well, this was a waste of time.”

“Might as well not waste any more.” 

You hear chairs scraping as both people stand up, and the clickity clack of Rose’s high heels as Jaehyun escorts her to the front door. 

“See ya,” Jaehyun says, and then shuts the door heavily.

He releases a sigh, and then he comes back into the kitchen. “So,” he huffs, “what’s dessert?”

“Vegan avocado chocolate mousse,” you laugh, pulling two out of the fridge. 

“Sounds horrible,” Jaehyun groans, but he picks up a spoon to take a bite. You watch his expression change, brows raising. “Is there anything you can’t make taste good?” 

You laugh. “I’m not allowed to disclose that, and as per our contract, I’d never be allowed to feed it to you anyway.”

Six:

It’s the morning after the failed date, and Doyoung is not happy. He’s been bitching at Jaehyun all throughout breakfast, and the basketball player has simply been taking it while he eats.

Finally, Jaehyun speaks. “Look. I’m not an actor. I’m an athlete. If you think for one moment I could pretend to be interested in Rose, then you don’t know me as my manager, or as my cousin.”

Silence ensues, and you’re shocked that Jaehyun has found a way to leave Doyoung - ever the anxious ranter - speechless. 

“We’re not doing some dumb PR bullshit, especially with the preseason training coming up,” Jaehyun says, and there’s authority in his voice, which is very unlike him. “In fact,” you hear his utensils scraping as he cleans his plate, “I want to go for a week's vacation. Somewhere warm. Maybe Mexico. I’m going to chill out for a bit, bring y/n to cook, and get my head in the game.”

Another period of quiet, and then Doyoung sighs. “Fine. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Air BnB,” Jaehyun tells him. “Something nice, not in a huge tourist spot, with a pool. And see if any of my teammates want to come, I think we all need some preseason fun.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

Seven:

It’s interesting being the personal chef for Jaehyun’s impromptu preseason trip to Mexico. For starters, you’re cooking for Jaehyun and a number of his teammates. Jungwoo eats like a sumo wrestler, Hyuck is constantly snacking, Mark hardly eats at all, and Johnny… well, he’s still hitting on you.

Jaehyun had insisted that you would only be dealing with two meals every day, and he’d also gotten every teammate to help pay for your extended services on this vacation, which is a nice bump in pay.

Right now, you’re cooking lunch, and Johnny is attached at your hip.

“It’s been four days and I’m still obsessed with everything you make,” the tall man muses, watching you prepare the cold Thai noodle salad with grilled chicken. “Do you ever run out of ideas, or is this a twenty-four-seven recipe machine sort of deal?”

 You laugh. “There are so many different combinations,” you admit. “I don’t think I’ll ever run out of ideas.”

“That’s such a Top Cook answer,” Johnny scoffs. “When are you going to loosen up a little and drop the PR angle with me?”

“While I’m on the clock, never.”

“Boring. I should get you off the clock sometime.”

“I don’t think I have an opening in my schedule anytime soon.”

“Jaehyun doesn’t need you all the time,” Johnny points out. “I’m sure I could steal you away for a drink or something.”

“I don’t think so.” Your eyes move to the doors that open to the pool. Jaehyun is on a lounger, but it’s been clear to you that he’s not done much relaxing this trip.

Something is bothering him, and for some reason, that bothers you too.

Jaehyun sits up, and he turns to meet your gaze. 

“Give me a moment, Johnny,” you say, excusing yourself to approach the stressed basketball player outside. “Are you alright?” 

Jaehyun sighs. “Just thinking a lot.”

“About Rose?”

“Not really. Well, yes, and no. I don’t know.” Jaehyun shakes his head. “I thought being here with my teammates would help me distract myself from a few things, but I’m still feeling… bleh.”

“Can I make you a drink, or bring you a snack?”

Jaehyun stares at you for a moment. “I think… maybe I need to get out of here. As much as I love your cooking, and I know you’ve planned dinner already, how do you feel about going out somewhere? Just the two of us?”

You consider his request for a moment. While Jaehyun frequently asks you to eat with him, and you’ve eaten together many times, it’s always been with you cooking. You’ve always felt like you’re still working, but going out to dinner with him- not being the person behind the dish- it feels different.

“I wouldn’t want to overstep-”

“You’re not overstepping,” Jaehyun assures you. “I’m inviting you.”

“What about your friends?”

“They can cook their own dinner tonight.”

Your eyes find Hyuck and Mark, neither of whom you trust, behind the barbecue.

“Johnny will take care of it,” Jaehyun says. “Let’s get dinner.”

“You know, Johnny just suggested I go out with him sometime, and I told him my schedule is pretty packed.”

“Well, he can cry me a river,” Jaehyun laughs. “We’re getting dinner.” 

Eight:

One thing that you’ve realized that Jaehyun appreciates about not being in tourist towns is that no one here knows who he is.

He’s not some professional basketball player that everyone is staring at and trying to get autographs from; he’s just Jaehyun, and you can see the way his shoulders relax as you order appetizers, then mains at the cute restaurant by the ocean.

“I feel like we should get a bottle of tequila or something,” Jaehyun muses, and your brows raise at him in response.

“Tequila?”

“It’s my vacation,” he insists. “I don’t know, maybe we could do something fun with it. Two truths and a lie or something.”

You consider it for a moment and decide that it is a vacation. 

You’ve been Jaehyun’s personal chef for a while now, and you’re allowed one night of letting loose.

“Fine,” you agree. “But we can’t tell Doyoung.”

“Was never planning on it,” Jaehyun grins, waving over a waiter.

A short while later, there’s a bottle of tequila in front of you, and two shot glasses.

“I’ll go first,” Jaehyun offers. “Two truths and a lie. I dislocated my shoulder when I was sixteen and almost stopped playing basketball altogether. My favourite author is Agatha Christie, and I have a record collection I’ve been working on since I was twelve.”

You think about it, staring at Jaehyun in the hope that something in his expression will tip you off.

“Reason says guess Agatha Christie is a lie, but on the flip side, you wouldn’t know who she was if you didn’t read her,” you point out. “And I doubt you’d ever actually consider quitting basketball, so… that one’s the lie.”

Jaehyun stares at you for a second, then he grins. “Drink up.”

“What?!”

“The lie was about my record collection. I started that in my last year of high school.”

“So wait, you’re saying you actually considered quitting basketball?” you ask in shock.

Jaehyun shrugs. “I was sixteen, I had no idea where life would take me.”

You shake your head in shock, accepting the shot in front of you.

As the harsh liquid goes down your throat, you try to think of your own two truths and a lie. “Okay,” you let out a breath. “I fell in love with cooking when I was younger and helped my mom prep for dinner parties she would throw. I hate cooking with innards like liver and kidneys, and I got my first KitchenAid mixer when I was twenty.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “You got your first Kitchenaid when you were sixteen, so that’s the lie. It’s no fun if you only do food-related ones. You talked about all three of those things on Top Cook.”

A wave of embarrassment floods through you, but also something a little like awe. You don’t even remember half of the things you said while on your season of the show, but it’s clear Jaehyun does.

“Take your shot,” he encourages you.

You glare at him as you do as you’re told, and the burn of the tequila is even worse than the first time.

“Fine, if you’re so good at this game, go again,” you tell him.

“Easy. I was the tiniest kid in my class in fifth grade, I went to boarding school in Connecticut, and even though I’ve had girlfriends, I’ve never really felt like anyone has loved me for me, at least, not the way I want them to.” 

You blink, considering the gravity of his last confession. That can’t be a lie… It’s too detailed, but… Jaehyun can’t really feel like no one has ever loved him, can he?

“Your lie is that you were the tiniest kid in your fifth-grade class,” you say quietly.

“Winner winner, chicken dinner,” Jaehyun sighs, lifting his shot of tequila.

“You really don’t think anyone has loved you?” you ask.

Jaehyun only shrugs. “I think any love pre-university was shallow, and anything after that was based on the fact that I was the star on my university basketball team and everyone knew I’d be going pro. So… you can’t really count any of those things, can you?”

You frown. It’s yet another difference in your celebrity statuses. Jaehyun has so much baggage from being an athletic prodigy his whole life- it’s very different from when you’re just a cute girl who knows how to cook.

“I think that’s why I like you so much,” Jaehyun admits. “I know you had no idea who I was when we met. My whole professional basketball thing didn’t mean anything to you; hell, you’ve catered for A-list actors and politicians and all sorts of people. You just treat me like a person, and that's kind of rare. Most people give at least a tiny shit about sports, but you seriously don’t give any.”

“Hey!” you laugh. “I give a mini shit about sports.”

“Maybe just because you like me,” Jaehyun teases. 

“Who says I like you?”

“Your cooking,” he points out. “Your dedication to it.”

“Well, maybe you like me,” you counter.

“Maybe.” Jaehyun can only smirk, and you deflate immediately, your skin flushing with heat. 

It’s silent at your table, aside from the mariachi band playing, and you suddenly don’t know where to look.

“I… I think the tequila is getting to me,” you admit.

“Two shots can do that to a goodie-goodie professional Top Cook like you,” Jaehyun laughs. “Listen, let’s get the bottle to go, and we can go find ice cream or something. If it’s my cheat night on my diet, I need dessert.”

“Okay.” 

Soon, you find yourself sitting on a cement block overlooking the ocean. Jaehyun and you are both finishing up your ice cream, and your skin tingles every time your mind reminds you that - as natural as this feels - it also feels an awful lot like a date.

“So Johnny is still hitting on you, huh?” Jaehyun asks.

“How could you tell?” you laugh, rolling your eyes. 

“Well, A, he sticks to your side like glue, and B, you mentioned he was trying to ask you out for dinner.” Jaehyun shakes his head at his own words, as if the behaviour of his teammate offends him on a deep level. 

You find yourself shrugging. “I’m not taking it too seriously.”

“I am.”

“Because you’re jealous.”

“Maybe.”

Another question answered with ‘maybe,’ and you’re starting to feel more and more like Jaehyun might actually have feelings for you. 

It’s not a foreign idea. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him, if you hadn’t grown fond of him in the past months. 

You’re suddenly aware of Jaehyun watching you, and you turn to meet his gaze. The intensity of it makes you crumble immediately, and you blush, turning away. “What?” you ask, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Do I have ice cream on my lip or something?”

“Let me see.” Suddenly, two gentle fingers touch the bottom of your chin, and he guides you to face him again. You freeze, staring at the beautiful man as he inspects you. “Nope, you’re perfect, as always.”

Jaehyun retracts his hand, and you swallow thickly, finding it more and more difficult to breathe. 

He looks out at the ocean, and you can tell that he’s lost in thought. “You know how I said I’ve never felt loved by a girl I’ve been interested in? I’m going to say something crazy, and I just need you to hear me out on it, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I told you about my maid who was like a second mom, and how your cooking reminds me of hers. Well, I never questioned that she cared about me, and in a similar way, I guess, I don’t question that you care about me anymore either. And I mean that as more than just a boss, or a basketball player with a stupid diet. I know that you care, because I can taste it in the food. You’re like, a scheduled hit of dopamine every day, someone I can rely on, in a way I’m not used to relying on people.”

You simply stare at him, a loss for words, but when Jaehyun turns to meet your gaze, it’s clear he’s expecting some sort of reaction.

“I mean,” you swallow thickly, “I do care about you.”

“But you have that professional boundary,” Jaehyun points out.

“I have to. I can’t risk my job for a… a whim,” you tell him, finding it hard to choose the right words. 

“You’re so PR trained, but look, I have you tongue-tied,” Jaehyun grins.

“Stop it,” you laugh, pushing his shoulder. “You know what I’m saying.”

“What if I promise you won’t lose your job, that things won’t be awkward?”

“You can’t possibly promise that.”

“What if I promise that if we give this a try, and for any reason you want to pull away, I will release you from your contract and let you go work for Johnny, or set you up with someone else who needs a private chef?”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything, just let me kiss you, and decide later.”

Jaehyun stares at you unmoving, and it’s clear he’s not going to jump the gun until you give him permission. All of your willpower is failing, and all you can do is look between his beautiful lips and his passionate dark eyes.

“You can kiss me,” you tell him, voice just above a whisper.

“Yeah?” You can see the relief in his expression, and he shifts closer.

“We just won’t tell Doyoung,” you say, trying to make a joke of it.

Jaehyun lets out a laugh. “Definitely not.”

Both of you begin to lean in, and on a hillside looking over the Gulf of Mexico, professional basketball player Jung Jaehyun presses his lips to yours for the very first time.

All the thoughts dissipate from your head, and you’re pleasantly surprised to find Jaehyun still tastes like his chocolate ice cream. You’re nothing if not an avid lover of food and tastes, so you eagerly lean in for more, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth.

Jaehyun groans, his hand rising to cup your cheek as you both deepen the kiss. 

You’re so lost in him that you hardly think of anything else, and you lose yourself so completely that you don’t think to pull back.

The two of you kiss for a couple of minutes, so in tune with each other that there’s not one blunder, not one clash of teeth, or a breath hastily caught. 

It’s Jaehyun who actually pulls away, but he only does so because he can’t stop smiling. The two of you blink at each other as if seeing one another in a new light.

“I like you a lot,” Jaehyun admits.

“I like you too,” you assure him.

“Should we try to keep this a secret from the guys at the house? I might not be able to keep my hands off of you for the next couple of days while we’re here.”

You consider it. “The Top Cook in me says we should keep it secret, but something tells me that would be a disservice to both of us.”

“So you’re saying we can be open?”

You shrug. “Why not? Doyoung’s halfway across the continent.”

“Fucking Doyoung, I really need to have a talk with him about how judgmental he is.”

“He’s your cousin, he just wants what's best for you.”

“Well, he did manage to get you hired, so I guess I can’t fault him completely for being so anal.”

You laugh, pressing your lips to his again. “I guess not.”

Nine: 

By the time you’d gotten home after dinner and making out on the beach, everyone had gone to bed. With a few sneaky kisses, you and Jaehyun had gone to your separate rooms, and when morning comes, none of his teammates are any the wiser to what had happened last night.

Johnny is just as flirty with you as you make breakfast, but you leave it to Jaehyun to take the lead on letting his friends know that the two of you have taken a new step in your relationship.

To be fair, a bit of kissing doesn’t necessarily mean exclusivity, and you don’t want to make assumptions. 

Surprisingly, Jaehyun allows Johnny to flirt with you, but you can see him biding his time. 

When everything is done cooking and put onto plates on the dining room table, Jaehyun finally approaches you. 

He doesn’t say anything, simply grabs you by the hips and tugs you to his chest. His lips press against yours, a wordless affirmation to the world that you belong to him, in more ways than just being his private chef. 

Your skin heats with the embarrassment of feeling multiple eyes on you as Jaehyun kisses you, but you don’t pull away. You’ve decided to let Jaehyun lead, and that’s what he’s doing. 

When he finally does stop kissing you, he simply grins. “I think I want breakfast in my room, if you’re up for that.”

It takes you a second to realize what he’s saying, but when it clicks, you feel your skin heat even more.

“I uh,” you swallow thickly. “Yeah.”

It feels a little fast, if you’re being honest with yourself, but at the same time, you’d decided last night to fuck your public relations training and do what feels right.

You can still feel eyes on you as Jaehyun grabs your hand and leads you toward the primary suite in the Airbnb. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t jump in sooner,” you tell Jaehyun as the door to the bedroom closes behind you.

“You were working, I wasn’t about to try to pull you away from the middle of cooking,” Jaehyun laughs. “I know enough about you to know that probably would have only pissed you off.”

He does know a lot about you, and he understands you to the point that he can predict your reactions to things. It feels special, and you can feel your walls breaking down around Jaehyun every time he says something that points to his deep knowing of you.

“Why are you smiling?” Jaehyun asks, flashing a nervous smile.

“I guess I’m just thinking about how you get me.”

“I do get you,” Jaehyun muses, gently grabbing your hips and tugging you to his chest again.

“Yeah, I’m starting to realize that,” you laugh, resting your hands on his strong shoulders.

“I know you probably think this whole thing is going a little fast-”

“Another way that you know me,” you giggle.

Jaehyun returns your grin. “We don’t have to… You know, fuck or anything right now, if you don’t want to. But I did mean it when I said I want breakfast in bed.”

“You do, do you?” you tease.

“Everything you cook tastes so good,” Jaehyun points out, his voice lowering as he moves forward, his lips ghosting over your ear, “I just know you taste good too.”

Your entire body tingles with his words. 

A professional basketball player who is offering to give head instead of insisting he receives it? 

You really have found yourself a winner, and no matter how much willpower you have, there’s not enough willpower in the world that could convince you to say no to an offer like this one. 

“Let’s start slow first,” you tell him.

“Whatever you want, angel.” Jaehyun presses his lips to yours, and your entire body is still tingling from the pet name and the anticipation of what comes next.

He’s such a good kisser, you become lost in him almost instantly, and you hardly realize as he slowly guides you back toward the bed.

Jaehyun is gentle as he helps you down onto the mattress, and you spread your legs to welcome his weight on top of you as you continue to kiss the breath away from each other.

He feels like heaven as he slowly begins to grind down against your core, and the summer dress you’re wearing makes it easier than ever to get the stimulation you want. You find yourself moaning against Jaehyun’s lips, and your sounds prompt him to begin exploring your body with his hand.

He’s careful as he moves to cup your breast, gently squeezing you through your bra. Jaehyun is testing the waters, and you make sure to give him sounds of affirmation that tell him you’re comfortable with what’s happening.

His lips move to your throat as he massages your breast, and you whimper into the quiet of the room, tangling your fingers in his silky dark hair. 

Jaehyun’s mouth continues to descend, and you adjust to slip your hands under your back, undoing your bra. You can feel him look up at you, brow quirked in a question, and when you pull the top of your dress and bra down to reveal your pebbled nipples, it’s as much of an answer to his nonverbal inquiry than anything could ever be.

He licks his lips, massaging your breast as he draws his mouth to your sensitive bud. He’s so soft at first, simply stroking his tongue along your hot skin, and when he begins to suck, you have to throw your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from releasing a loud moan.

Jaehyun chuckles against your skin, teasing your nipple and sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

You haven’t been fucked in so long. 

God, you’ve been so married to your work for the past two years that you haven’t gotten laid, and everything Jaehyun is doing feels like it’s the first time. Your body is awakening from its long slumber, and already, you can feel yourself becoming addicted to the pleasure that Jaehyun is providing you. 

Your hips begin to wiggle, and Jaehyun notices. His hand slips down from your breast, and he toys your dress higher up your thigh. He continues to suck on your nipple as his fingers tease past your panty line, stroking your inner thigh tantalizingly.

“Please,” you moan, knowing that this next step is preferable with a verbal affirmation. You don’t want there to be any confusion that you want this, and something tells you that Jaehyun cares a lot about consent- more so than the average professional athlete, or so you’ve heard. 

He rubs his fingers past your core, teasing you through your panties, and Jaehyun releases a groan. He pulls off your nipple, shifting so he can kiss your throat again.

His breath is hot against your skin. “You’re soaked, angel.”

“Just eager,” you tell him, feeling slightly embarrassed that your body is betraying you.

“It’s sexy,” Jaehyun tells you. “When was the last time someone touched you like this?”

You’re aware that he knows it’s been at least a couple of months since you’ve been without sexual contact, since he employed you. There’s nowhere in your contract that says you can’t have men over for personal reasons to your casita, and nowhere in your contract that says you couldn’t head out after dinner to have sex just as long as you’re back to make breakfast- but you’ve simply put all of your energy into this new job.

“A while,” you admit. 

“I’ll make this worth it then,” Jaehyun promises. 

With that, he slips his hand under your underwear, his fingers making direct contact on your sensitive core. He teases you, testing your wetness, before he gently circles your clit.

When you begin to moan, he presses his lips to yours, muffling the sounds with groans of his own. He continues to play with your clit, and then, his hand adjusts down. He stokes your slit, slowly pushing one finger into your core.

You whimper, your hips moving, searching for more stimulus. 

Jaehyun obliges, pushing another finger into your core. He shifts his hand, his palm rubbing your clit as he begins to finger fuck you, the pads of his digits crooking up to stroke your G-spot. 

You groan louder against his lips, your body moving of its own accord, grinding down against his hand.

“If you cum for me, I’ll eat you out,” Jaehyun smirks against your lips. 

“Then make me cum,” you respond, breathless.

Jaehyun only kisses you deeper, pressing his palm more firmly to your clit. He applies more pressure to your G-spot with his fingers, and you allow your body to get lost in the sensation.

Soon, you’re gasping, your muscles clenching tighter and tighter as your orgasm rises.

“Shit,” you whimper, the first time you’ve cussed in front of him. “I’m close.” 

“I want you so bad,” Jaehyun groans. “Want you to cum for me so I can finally taste you.”

His words tip you over the edge, and you shiver as your orgasm slams into you. You claw at his shoulders, biting your lip to muffle the sounds of pleasure that radiate from deep within you.

“So pretty like this, angel,” Jaehyun coos as he finger fucks you through your high, clearly intent on prolonging it. 

But all good things come to an end, and as your orgasm dissipates, you slump against the bed, breathing heavily.

“Let me know if you want me to stop,” Jaehyun tells you, as he pulls his fingers from your core and gets off the bed. 

You watch him under half-shut lids as he licks his digits clean, groaning at your taste. And then, you remove your dress and bra. Jaehyun helps you with your panties, taking off his own shirt for good measure before he sinks to the ground on his knees next to the bed. 

His strong hands grab your ankles, and he pulls you to the edge of the mattress. His lips find their way up your calf and inner thigh, and he looks up at you, adjusting your legs over his shoulders.

“Eat me,” you tell him, the words coming out more shuddery than the confident way you’d intended them.

“If you insist,” he teases, and then, Jaehyun practically dives in.

Some men are more tentative about eating girls out, but to your surprise, Jaehyun’s not one of them. He has no fear about getting right up in your pussy, his tongue pushing in and licking at your walls as his nose bumps your clit deliciously.

“Fuck,” you groan, and you can feel Jaehyun smirk against your pussy in response. He licks the entirety of your pussy, swirling his tongue around your clit. You jolt from the stimulus, thighs quaking on his shoulders.

His hands reach up to steady your legs, and he teases your clit, making you whimper.

“Feels good,” you tell him.

“Tastes good,” he counters, making butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Might insist on this for breakfast from now on.”

“Honestly,” you breathe a sigh of relief, “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Might have to… what’s the word, amend your contract,” Jaehyun laughs.

“Fuck my contract.” The words come out of you so suddenly, you don’t even have time to think, and Jaehyun quirks a brow at your statement. “Can we talk about it later?”

“Of course, angel, there are more important things to focus on right now.” Jaehyun goes back to eating your pussy, his eyes closing as he sucks on your clit.

It’s clear he’s enjoying this too, and that only pleases you more. You close your own eyes, giving yourself over to the sensations as Jaehyun licks and sucks your sensitive pussy.

Soon, you’re once again on the edge, and you know Jaehyun can tell. He sucks your clit even harder, pushing two fingers into your wet hole to stroke the same spot that had made you come undone for him last time.

Your body tenses more and more, your breath coming out in gasps, and then, your second orgasm slams into you, making your toes curl. Your thighs go to close around Jaehyun’s head, but he holds you open with his free hand, eating you through your high. 

You can feel him everywhere, and there’s never been a devotion like his.

His entire focus is on giving you pleasure, and it radiates from the tips of your toes all the way to the top of your head. It’s a heavy, golden, somehow electric fog, and your entire body is tingling from its effects. 

Soon, you’re coming down, and Jaehyun pulls away from your core. He stands up, looking down at you.

“So that was breakfast and dessert,” he muses jokingly, “should we try a sneaky snack, too?”

“How about your fingers were breakfast, your lips were lunch, and now your cock is dinner?”

“That works for me,” Jaehyun chuckles.

God, you’re both such dorks, but you kind of love it.

The two of you just work in ways you can’t even describe. 

It’s a cellular level of connection, or perhaps a connection of souls, you can’t quite describe it.

Jaehyun takes off his pants, and as he goes to push down his underwear, he stops. “Condoms?” he asks. 

You blink at him. “I’m clean and on birth control.”

He pauses for a moment. “I can still wear a condom if you want, it’s up to you.”

“No condom,” you tell him after quick consideration.

“Sounds good, angel.” Jaehyun pushes his underwear down, and you find yourself staring at the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

It’s a good size, not too big, but not small by any means either. It’s got a nice pink tip, and as Jaehyun joins you on the bed, you promise yourself to suck him off sometime soon. But right now, you just need him inside of you, and Jaehyun is more than happy to oblige. 

You wrap your legs around Jaehyun, drawing him close. Your lips meet as his cock rubs between your pussy lips, teasing your clit deliciously.

His tongue gently strokes yours, and you find your own hand slipping between your bodies to line him up with your core. He pushes in slowly, giving your body time to adjust to his size.

The kiss breaks so you can moan, and his lips find your throat, worshipping you while inch after inch buries into your sensitive core.

You tangle your fingers in his silky hair, keeping him at his throat as he remains fully inside of you, and once you feel like you’ve adjusted, you draw his lips back to yours again.

“Okay,” you tell him. “Fuck me now.”

“Whatever you want, angel,” Jaehyun grins, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as he begins to thrust.

He starts slow, clearly wanting to be gentle, but his pace picks up gradually, and you find yourself moaning from the sensation.

Missionary position is a very intimate position, and you love the way it gives access for kissing and stroking his shoulders, you play with his hair and press your breasts up against his chest, enjoying every minute.

“I’ve wanted you since the moment we met,” Jaehyun pants.

“You’re cute,” you tell him, unable to echo the sentiment.

It seems Jaehyun had been half in love with you since watching you on TV, but you’d never known who he was before Doyoung employed you, so you had no precedent on which emotions to reside. But you’ve grown to care about him, that much is true.

“Want everyone to know you belong to me now. We belong together,” Jaehyun groans.

“They’ll know,” you assure him, stroking his silky hair.

Jaehyun moans at your response, burying his face against your throat as he fucks you even harder.

“I’m close from eating you out,” he admits, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, “but I want you to cum with me.” 

“I can get there,” you tell him, slipping your hand between your bodies to rub your clit.

“Fuck, you just got so tight,” Jaehyun practically whimpers. “Fuck Doyoung for ever trying to set me up with a fucking model.” 

“Silver linings,” you laugh, and the laugh turns into a whimper as you rub your clit even harder.

“Made me realize I only wanted you,” Jaehyun admits. 

“Lucky me,” you giggle, your core getting tighter around Jaehyun’s cock as you get closer and closer to the edge.

He’s such a simp, but you kind of love it.

You know he’s in deeper than you are, but you can see yourself falling fast now that you’ve taken the leap, so you give yourself over to the feeling that’s beginning to bubble inside of you.

“Okay, I’m close,” you tell him, more moans slipping from your lips as you rub your clit harder and harder.

“Want you to cum with me, please, fuck-” Jaehyun’s shivering with the effort of holding back his own high, waiting for you before he allows himself the release.

“Kiss me,” you tell him, feeling suddenly very dominant as you grab the nape of his neck, dragging his lips to your own.

You kiss him deeply, your chests pressed together, bodies fitting like puzzle pieces.

Your orgasm hits you suddenly, and the moment your core clamps around Jaehyun, he explodes too.

You both moan desperately against each other’s mouths, gasping as your orgasms ravage your bodies with unthinkable pleasure.

All you can do is hold tightly to Jaehyun, allowing your highs to wash over you both in perfect harmony.

You’re both panting as you come down, holding onto each other like long-time lovers. 

This is the start of something good; of that, you have no doubts. 

Ten:

“Congratulations on yet another unprecedented win,” the reporter grins, standing next to Jaehyun on the side of the basketball court at the completion of a landslide win. “You’ve had an amazing start to the season, some would say it’s one of the most impressive starts for a newly signed player. What do you think has contributed to that drive you have?” 

“First, I want to thank my cousin, my manager, Doyoung, who’s the one who pushed me to get to this place in my life. And second, I want to thank my amazing girlfriend, y/n, who is up in the stands right there with my cousin. She’s the most amazing person in my life, she feeds me, body and soul, and everything I do is for her.”

“Social media platforms like X are buzzing about you and y/n, who, notably, is a winner and alumni of the hit TV show Top Cook. I saw a few TikToks of the two of you cooking together. How long have you been dating?”

“About six months.”

“So it’s still pretty new, huh?” the reporter laughs.

Jaehyun can only shake his head. “Look, when you know, you know. And we both know. I had a great game, a great night with the team, and all I can say is thank you to the fans, to the coaches, and thank you to all the loved ones who made this possible.” 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! life has been such a mess lately, but things are looking up and Halloween is right around the corner :)

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “Want you to cum while fucking your dirty private chef on her new countertop,” you tease, knowing that Jaehyun’s always found the idea kinky and arousing. You’re his dirty private chef- or at least, you had been, and in a way, you always will be.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, sex in a kitchen, foreplay, dirty talk, praise, oral, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, mutual orgasms, blow job, teasing, slight man handling, pinning the reader's wrists, fucking on a counter, Jaehyun fucks the reader while she’s in a dress, etc…   I petnames. (hers) angel.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 starring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been three years since you and Jaehyun started dating, and things have changed in a way you never would have imagined. It hadn’t been ethical to continue as Jaehyun’s private chef, and the two of you had sat down to discuss options.

He’d suggested you try to build a TikTok following, and he’d convinced you that many people were still fans from your time on Top Cook. You could live with him, and he’d take care of everything as long as you continued to cook for him and worked on building your platform.

Pretty quickly, you realized that your specific relationship was a niche of its own. In an odd way, you got from Jaehyun what Rose had been attempting to secure. His fans flocked to your TikTok, and his teammates gushed about you and your cooking to help draw even more interest. 

You began to make decent money off your TikTok account pretty quickly into the process, and fans there suggested you make another book. So you’d worked on it, having a food-based TikTok with speckles of relationship vibes. Restaurants started inviting you and Jaehyun to dine for review, and Jaehyun helped open your world to an entire venue you never could have imagined.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.2k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@meowniee - @learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas - @sourkimchi - @stellaoo

And thank you to those who interacted with the teaser :)

@lifeofroblox21 - @bobathi - @roseandpeaches - @goyangenero

@readingthingy - @multislut - @spookymenagerie - @mingcouper

[lonelyharmonies]

all is fair in love and war

when you meet a guy once and forget his name, the last thing you expect is meeting him again on your new job.

pairing: haechan x fem reader genre: fluff; college!au; (sort of)  coworkers! warnings: suggestive; cursing; and i think that’s it. word count: ~19k a/n.: another repost <3 i love this one very much

"How's the job search?" your roommate asks while putting her earrings on.

Another week of failed attempts of looking for an internship, you think. Maybe you weren’t in your right mind when you decided to quit your job of 2 years at the campu’s café, but it was time for you to start looking for jobs related to your field of study. You want to become a journalist, you need real experience! Did you quit after impulsively screaming at your annoying boss because you were fed up with his rudeness? Yes, but you were unhappy and senior year is getting closer by the minute, you have no time to waste. At first, your parents and friends supported you, but after almost two months of unemployment, you were starting to question your own decision.

"Nothing yet." you mumble, playing a game on your phone.

"Have you thought about what Renjun said?" she turns her head to look at you expectantly. 

"We've already discussed this," you sigh and she turns her head back to the mirror in front of her. "If it was only for the money, I could just go back to 7Dream,” you stubbornly answer.

“And you think they’ll take you back?” your roommate raises an eyebrow at you “I know it’s not the best choice, but listen to Renjun this time. At least it would be something.”

Huang Renjun, your roommate’s boyfriend, is a fairly rich art major and, in your eyes, a very sophisticated person. At least one of the most sophisticated people you know. The only one, actually. But as he comes from such an influential family, you thought he would be able to find you a job at a good newspaper or a famous magazine. You had to ask him for a job recommendation because, hell, if you’re friends with a nepo baby, take advantage of them.

Needless to say you were not expecting to be offered a part-time position at a beaten-up theme park in the city. You obviously declined, being too stubborn to go from one underpaid job that made you miserable to another.

You did accept, however, the invitation to his friend's birthday party. Free food, free alcohol and some socializing, you couldn’t say no to that. That’s how you end up in an overcrowded apartment in the downtown area of the city to celebrate the birthday of Renjun’s friend that you have never seen before.

As soon as you got there, you were introduced to the birthday boy, Lee Jeno, before being ditched by your roommate and her boyfriend. Deciding that it was too awkward to just stand in the kitchen by yourself, you are left with no choice but to choose your drink: cheap vodka with cranberry juice or cheap canned beer? Hard choice.

Your eyes were scanning the alcoholic drinks shoved in the kitchen sink when you felt someone standing right next to you. You cursed silently, too tired to deal with drunk men flirting tonight. You decided to grab a beer and get out of the kitchen as fast as possible, when the person next to you spoke.

"These ones in the sink are always hotter than the ones in the fridge no matter how much ice they put in there," you turn your head to meet the person next to you, beer in your left hand. "If I were you, I wouldn't grab the drinks from there."

"So I should just stay thirsty?" you ask ironically, raising an eyebrow.

"No, you should grab a drink from the fridge," the brown haired boy smirks and goes straight to the kitchen's fridge.

He grabbed an expensive Japanese beer from inside and placed it on the counter between the both of you. Your eyebrow is raised and the boy still has a smirk on his lips. He motions his head towards the bottle, silently telling you to take it.

"How do I know you didn't spike this drink?"

"How do you know the one you just grabbed isn't spiked?" he challenges you, tilting his head to the side. 

"Isn't it a little impolite of you to just open someone's fridge? Especially to grab an expensive drink to give to a stranger?" The beer is long forgotten when you cross your arms and see the boy moving one step closer to you.

"If the stranger is cute it’s fine," he shrugs and you raise an eyebrow, clearly not falling for his attempts at flirting. "Plus, I bought these,” he points at the bottle he put on the counter “And the birthday boy is my best friend and roommate."

Oh, boy, he was bold and you didn’t even need to wonder why: if you looked that hot only in a pair of jeans and a simple Adidas shirt, you would be brazen too. 

"Hm, I believe you," you puckered your lips and looked around the kitchen as if uninterested.

"I'm serious, we've known each other since we were little, I’ve seen Jeno butt naked thousands of times," he blurted out and you stifled your laugh. 

"That's…" you can't really find the words to answer whatever that information meant. “I…I have no words.”

"What? We barely talked and I'm already leaving you speechless?" he got one step closer and you had resist the urge to move away. "Damn, I didn't know I was this good."

"You think you're smooth, but you were just spilling nonsense," you uncrossed your arms and moved to hold the cold bottle of beer he got for you.

"And yet you're still here listening," he moved one step closer, and this time you could even see the small moles spread across his face and neck. 

"I find you really, really annoying," the smile on your face contrasted with the words leaving your lips. 

"I get that a lot." He chuckled and you moved a little bit closer and felt him holding his breath.

"Yeah. We need to do something to shut your mouth for a bit, don’t we?" you were looking straight at his lips and he didn't waste much time, kissing you right after. 

You find yourself in a very complicated situation the following day when the alcohol wears off of your system and it seems like you remember every little detail of that party, except the name of the boy who kissed you all night long.

You don’t really have much time to dwell on the boy’s name because you find yourself getting more desperate thanks to your financial situation, so all Renjun had to do was mention the job one more time.

“The Lee family is very influential in the entertainment business, you know? I’m sure they will transform that place in no time.” He said one night.

“I bet,” you answered uninterested, eating the soup your roommate had made you. 

“It’s a way of having some income while looking for internships,” he reasoned “you can always quit when you find something better.”

“Okay, you’re right,” you sigh defeated “What number should I call?”

Fast forward to three months later: you are working in the job you’ve sworn you wouldn’t take.

That’s the story of how you became a ride operator at Sunny’s Funfair Park and Recreation  last April. It is a very big name for a park that small, though, you have to admit. The Funfair is just as nonsensical as the name, but it’s not the most unpleasant workplace. Plus, you found out it’s a very traditional theme park in the area, the neighbors say it has been around since the 70s (considering how old everything looks, you don’t doubt it). It is like the city’s Disneyland, just dirtier. And smaller. And uglier. And unsafer. But it’s just like the city’s Disneyland. I mean, there’s even a mascot: the brown bear named Sunny who seemed to be fairly popular among children.

"How do these kids seem to like Sunny so much? He’s creepy,” you think out loud chewing the jelly Jisung just gave you.

“He’s like our Mickey Mouse,” Jisung turns his head to look at the bear as well.

“But Mickey is not that creepy.”

“Have you seen him in the 50’s? Girl…”

"Who are you talking about?" Yuta, one of the managers, creeps behind you and your friend.

"Hyung, that’s not cool!” Jisung jumps as he gets startled by Yuta’s sudden presence and you can’t help smiling at how much of a scaredy-cat he is.

“Mickey Mouse” you say, stealing another Jelly from Jisung. “Who do you think is creepier, Mickey or Sunny?” 

In the beginning you were still very reluctant to accept that it was a good idea to take up Renjun’s offer (and your only choice). But the thing is that you need the money and the job is so much easier than working at the café, considering the Funfair is slow basically every single day. So, you adapted to the Funfair in no time and, slowly, started to see how fun it can be to work in a place like that. You have to admit that the job in itself is usually boring, but the people here are the highlight of it all. 

“Sunny’s not that creepy,” Jisung says, making you scoff.

“No, it’s just an old ass costume of an ugly bear wearing a blue overall. Why do kids like it?” You say looking at the semicircle of children cornering the bear near the merry-go-round.

“Who’s Mickey Mouse, though?” Yuta asks you and Jisung.

“Are you kidding me? The Disney rat, hyung,” Jisung looks mildly offended at Yuta’s question.

“He’s not a rat, he’s a mouse. It’s literally his name,” you say, faking interest just to steal one more jelly from Jisung’s bag of candy.

“Never heard of this Mickey guy,” Yuta says with a poker face and you snicker. 

"You don't know… Mickey Mouse?" You think Jisung’s face is priceless. Oh, the ever so sweet and gullible Park Jisung.

"Where is he from?'' he asks again, leaving Jisung even more confused.

“Hm… Hollywood? I don’t know where he’s from,” Jisung fishes for his phone and you are sure he is about to google ‘where is mickey mouse from’. 

“Oh, I’m from Osaka. That’s probably why we never met.” Yuta finishes talking and walks away, leaving a bewildered Jisung behind.

“I don’t know what to do with this information,” you start feeling bad for him, the boy just looks utterly confused. “He’s joking right? They do have Mickey Mouse in Japan, right?” 

“Yes, Jisung he is joking,” you pat his shoulder, but he seems hesitant. “He’s messing with you because you're literally the only one that still believes in any absurdity that comes out of Yuta’s mouth.” 

“It makes me kinda relieved, I'm not gonna lie,” he sighs and you just chuckle. Why are your coworkers so dramatic? “I mean, it’s Mickey Mouse. Everybody likes Mickey Mouse."

“I don’t know about that…” your eyes go back to the weird bear as he starts moving around, now having Taeyong as a bodyguard to protect him from the kids jumping at him. "Wait, I think this is the first time I see someone actually dressing up as Sunny. Is it a new thing now?”

"I don't know, it's my first time seeing it too," Jisung frowns "Should I ask Mina?" you shrug. It didn't really matter, it's just that, working in such an uneventful workplace, anything could be something.

"I think you should start running if you don't want Doyoung beating your ass up," you say leaning on the railing of the bumper cars. 

Jisung turns to look at his back and sees an angry Doyoung coming for him. "Shit."

"PARK JISUNG, DON'T EVEN TRY TO RUN." 

"Serves you right for purposely shutting down the merry-go-round." 

"If you had to stay there, you would understand the stress I go through," he says, handing you his bag of candy and running away from Doyoung.

So much for an uneventful workplace.

After you started working at the theme park, you had less time for parties and pubs and even dates. It was hard to fit in any social interaction in your now tight schedule: your shifts were usually 4 to 10 p.m on weekdays and 6 to 12 a.m on weekends. You never had time to go out to drink with your friends, unless they agreed to go clubbing on Monday. Damn, you didn’t want to go to a club on Monday, you had morning classes.

Juggling your job, your degree and your social life was not easy, and you started realizing that you couldn’t catch up with some of your friends and, eventually, they just stopped inviting you to hang out. Inevitably, you have to start hanging out with your coworkers and that leads you to Jisung’s dorm, a round of cheap beer, spicy snacks and a game of truth or dare in the crack of dawn on a Saturday. You, Jisung, Chenle, Yeri and Mina were all sitting in a circle looking at the bottle that was about to stop. 

Bottom asks, top answers.

“Truth or dare, Mina?” Chenle asks mischievously and she whines. 

“I don’t want Chenle!!! Please, someone else ask me” 

“He got the bottom of the bottle, though,” Jisung smiles apologetically. 

“Okay, truth.”

“Is it true that in middle school you had a crush on Jis-”

“DARE!!!! I WANT DARE!” she stands up on her knees, profusely shaking her arms so Chenle would stop talking.

Funfair might not be too amusing for the customers, but the whole workplace drama is absolutely entertaining to you. Yeri’s family owns the property where the theme park is located, so she (forcefully) works there to help her cousin Taeyong run the place (though she rarely does any actual work). There is an ongoing rumor that, since last year, she was in a love triangle with Taeyong’s accountant, Suh Johnny, and a mysterious guy named Lee. No one knows exactly who the Lee guy is and what happened between them. Chenle says he’s not brave enough to ask, but he thinks “Lee” is the last name of the guy, which also makes it weird because it could be another one of Taeyong’s relatives.

Taeyong is the sweet boss in charge of all of us, including the managers Yuta and Doyoung, although there has always been a suspicion that the latter is his (boy)friend.

Chenle, Jisung and Mina are freshmen that have been friends since elementary school and decided to work together at Funfair because it was their go-to spot to skip classes ever since they were little. You’re sure they chose the park, though, because they wouldn't be allowed to work together in any other environment, they are all just a bunch of kids. Chenle is that outgoing and kind person yet a menace, especially when it comes to Mina, Jisung and their painfully obvious crush on each other. 

After some hair pulling (Mina got really angry after Chenle tried to make her confess to Jisung) and the last rounds of truth or dare, everyone starts to get sleepy. 

“Alright, guys, I think it’s time to go home…” you stand up, but Mina holds your arm to stop you.

“Wait, before we all go, did you guys know about the new part-timer that got hired?” Chenle perks up and Jisung lifts his body from where is laying on the ground to look at Mina.

“What guy?”

“Another part-timer? I thought Taeyong was on a budget considering how slow the business has been since… forever,” you say truthfully and Chenle’s eyes widen .

“Do you think the Funfair is some sort of money laundering scheme?” 

“I don’t think Taeyong would be driving that old ass car if he had a choice,” Jisung says, and you gasp.

“That’s mean, he’s always giving you rides!”

“What are you guys talking about?” Yeri asks, coming back from the bathroom “New part-timer? Oh, you’re talking about Donghyuck.”

You frown, feeling that you know that name, and yet can’t give a face to that name. Do you know anyone named Donghyuck?

“Do you know him?!” Mina exclaims a little too excited for Jisung’s liking, who scoffs.

“Yeah, I asked Taeyong if we could hire him,” she says sheepishly and you and Chenle exchange confused looks “What about him, though?”

“I was just curious,” Mina answers. “I saw this cute boy two days ago near the breakroom and he said ‘hi, I’m the new guy Donghyuck’ and then, never again.” 

“Why are you so curious? Do you wanna see him that bad?” Jisung asks, clearly bothered and the three of you roll your eyes at the sight of a blushing Mina.

“It’s not like that…” she scratches her head “It’s just that I never saw him again. Where is he even working?”

“I think Taeyong put him in the ticket booth or something,” Yeri brushes the girl’s concern off and just grabs her bag.

“No way, I was in the popcorn stall near the entrance today and I haven’t seen him at all,” Mina affirms with wide eyes.

Yeri, tired of all of you and the workplace gossip, just brushes it off by shrugging and wishing everybody a goodnight before leaving Jisung’s dorm.

"What do you guys think of Sunny?" you suddenly ask and your friends make a confused face. "Sunny, the bear, guys."

"Creepy" Chenle says without second thoughts

"Not you again with the mascot rivalry. Be proud of our Mickey," Jisung points at you, making you roll your eyes.

"It's weird looking, but it's a very fun mascot," Mina says, drinking the remaining soju in Jisung's bottle.

"Not like that, guys." You apologize, starting to feel drowsy. "I should've worded it better."

"Are you already drunk?" Chenle scoffs and Mina motions to kick his legs.

"I meant,” you say louder, glaring at Chenle. “What if the new guy is Sunny?" 

"It's plausible considering Mina hasn’t seen him again. Or any of us, really."

"Bear or not, I think he's Yeri's boyfriend." Jisung says as a matter of factly.

"His name is not Lee, though." Mina points out. "Plus, I'm team Johnny."

"You're all so nosy," you make a judging face at them, but giggle right after "I like it."

The four of you there stay there in Jisung's dorm for a couple more hours, conspiring about who was the new part-timer, what he was doing there and creating what had the potential to be the new hot gossip of Sunny's Funfair.

"I can't believe you're here again," you roll your eyes when you see Jisung standing next to the control panel for the bumper cars. 

"Change places with me one day, that's all I ask!" he pleads and you turn away to pay attention to the cars that had just started to move around. 

"Go to work, Jisung. I don't know why Taeyong hasn't fired you yet." 

"Because he knows I'm a valuable addition to the team.” He fights back, making you scoff.

"Nah, it's probably because he has noticed that the high school girls keep coming back to flirt with you." You glare at him when you see him blushing. “Stop with this act, we all know you love it because it makes Mina jealous.”

“What’s with you today, woman?” he raises his hand defensively “I’m just keeping you company.”

“You should be at the merry-go-around. Working.”

“That’s why I always go to Mina,” he complains. “She always talks to me.”

“It’s because she doesn’t like working either,” you say harshly.

It’s Sunday and the park is fairly busier than usual, you think. Not enough to make children line up on the bumper cars, but busy enough to keep running it every three minutes. Suddenly, a stereotypical carnival music starts playing, startling both you and Jisung, who never really noticed there were speakers spread throughout the park. Then, you see Sunny happily walking around greeting small children and their parents. 

“What the fuck is this?” you spit out and look at Jisung who has the same dumbfounded expression as you.

“Our Mickey Mouse is here,” Jisung laughs and you keep staring at the scene in front of you.

“I swear to god if they put this song in a loop I’ll k-”

“Where’s Mickey?” a little girl wearing a Disney t-shirt smiles at the both of you. “I like Mickey Mouse!"

“If you like Mickey so much, where is he from?” Jisung asks and you roll your eyes, going back to the control panel to see how much longer until this round is up.

“Well, I don’t know…” her smile falters and Jisung holds a finger up in the air while saying.

“Well, you can only ride the bumper cars if you know where Mickey Mouse is from-”

“But… I…” you see the girl’s eyes watering and you punch Jisung’s arm 

“No, you don’t,” you say, giving him the stink eye. “But you do need to be old enough to ride it by yourself. How old are you?

“I just turned eight,” she smiles confidently with both hands on her hips.

“Sorry, sweetie, if you are under 12 you need adult supervision,” she deflates so fast that you almost feel bad for her. 

“Can’t he go with me?” she points at Jisung and you scoff.

“He can barely supervise himself,” you smile at her. “Plus, there is no one else to ride the bumper cars, you would be all alone.”

The little girl tries to persuade you to let her go but you can’t. You could bend the rules a little and supervise her in the car, letting Jisung in the control panel, but you didn’t trust Jisung that much. Plus it wasn’t worth it getting in trouble because of a cute little girl. Eventually, you convince her to go talk to the creepy bear, saying he was friends with Mickey Mouse, and she runs to where he is standing.

“By the way, Mickey Mouse is from Mouseton in Calisota,” Jisung says looking at his phone and you groan.

After months working in the same place, with the same people, you are bound to get into a routine. Yours consisted of arriving at the Funfair around 3:50 pm, going to the break room, filling your water bottle, putting your backpack in locker 606 and putting your lunch box with some packed dinner in the fridge. 

Any minor change in this calculated routine could mean something big.

That’s why you are surprised to arrive one day and see a black insulated lunch bag inside the fridge. You were used to see Mina’s green tupperware, Chenle’s half-eaten subway and Yuta’s energy drinks inside the fridge. You were not used to see an insulated lunch bag inside the fridge. You brushed it off as someone changing habits and bringing healthier food to work. It could even be Taeyong packing food for him and Doyoung. 

You should have taken that more seriously, though, because the second change in your routine was much bigger and much more inconvenient than the lunch bag. 

The next day, the lunch bag disappeared, but now, there was a backpack in your locker. It wasn’t that the locker is specifically yours per se, but there is a silent agreement of which locker belongs to whom. There are 9 lockers in total, Jisung and Mina’s are 607 and 604, the top left one and the one right under it. Chenle takes 608 and Yeri takes the one next to yours, 605. The only available lockers, then, are the 609, top one on the right, and the 3 lockers at the bottom, that are rarely used. 606 is an unavailable locker and yet, one day you get there, slightly late, and you see it occupied by a backpack that’s not yours — and locked. 

Differently from the lunch box, the locker issue does not go away. In fact, no matter how early you get there, every other day there is a black backpack locked inside the 606. You aren't tall enough to reach 609, forcing you to use one of the lockers at the bottom. Everytime you try to crouch down to get something from your bag, you curse at the person who’s using your locker.

The last change to the quiet routine you led at Funfair was Sunny, the bear. In three months working there, last week was the first time you started to actually see it walking around. Of course, during your training, Taeyong made sure to give you a very detailed explanation of the origins of Sunny and even let you see the bear costume. Seeing someone wearing it, though, was something completely different. Considering the near-bankrupt financial situation Funfair has been suffering for a while, it is normal that the park is understaffed (and not a real problem because there aren’t many customers, anyways). But, with some many improvements to be done, why did Taeyong decide to hire someone to give life to that creepy looking bear? No one besides Taeyong seemed to care about Sunny’s presence, why is it around now?

You are too focused on your own thoughts to pay attention to Mina and Jisung entering the breakroom. They seem excited about something and trying to speak at the same time.

“Shut up, Jisung, I will tell everybody!” she squeals and Jisung mumbles something along the line ‘I barely breathed’. “Where’s Chenle? I have bombastic news.”

“He texted the group chat saying he will be late,” you answer unamused.

“Girl, cheer up, I have hot gossip.” You hum, more interested in your sandwich than the gossip. 

“We saw the new guy enter Yeri’s car yesterday after work.” Jisung blurts out and Mina slaps his shoulder. “What? Someone can appear in the breakroom any minute.”

“We already know she knows him. Taeyong hired him because of her, remember?” You bite your sandwich and see Jisung deflates, agreeing that it wasn’t the big deal he was thinking.

“Well, she didn’t say that his last name was Lee,” she whispers the last word, making you and Jisung snap your heads to her direction.

“You didn’t tell me-”

“Doyoung told Yuta who told me that the name of the guy is Lee Donghyuck and he works part-time here every other day. That’s why we don’t see him that much.”she says, pulling a chair for Jisung to sit on.

“Do you think he is the Lee in the love triangle?” Jisung whispers, fishing for his phone. “Oh, Chenle’s gonna love this.”

“Have you guys seen this Donghyuck in the breakroom, yet?” you ask, looking at the lockers. “Or coming to work, at least?”

“Nope.”

“Do you think he is the one using my locker?” They look at you confused. “I usually see it locked with a black backpack inside.”

“Well, he works every other day,” Mina starts “I don’t think it’s him, you’re here everyday.”

“Who would do that, though? The managers use Taeyong’s office. I’m sure it’s him. I don’t like him.”

“You don’t even know him,” Jisung reasons, making you glare at him.

“He stole my locker!” you fight back making them shake their heads at you.

Two whole weeks have passed and everybody but you have met the locker thief. It's not that you are obsessed with knowing who the hell this Lee Donghyuck is, especially not after Mina tells you in secret that he is very funny and very hot (and begged you not to tell Jisung that). You are curious to meet the one who is behind the creepy bear that makes children laugh and forces all of you to listen to circus music (Taeyong said it is a new tactic so people can associate the song to Sunny and they will know when he is around. You don’t care, you just hate both the bear and the song).

It is on a Friday evening that you understand why people say “curiosity killed the cat”. You are sent to help Mina in the food stalls because Jisung, being the annoying brat he is, ended up breaking the merry-go-round thanks to his habit of shutting it off to avoid the children. When one of the rides breaks down, it means sending someone to help with the food stalls, but Taeyong knew that between sending Jisung or a lamppost to work with Mina, the lamppost would be more useful. That’s why Jisung is at the bumper cars right now and you are stuck in the food stall, with your hair and clothes smelling like butter and old popcorn. 

"Hey, what's broken today?" she asks, leaning her arms on the counter and bending her body forward.

"The merry-go-round," you roll your eyes. "I bet it's Jisung’s fault for shutting it down on purpose at least three times per shift to avoid the little children."

“I thought they would send you to the haunted house to give Doyoung a break, though.” She hands you wet wipes so you can help her clean the counter.

“Nah, Doyoung has too much fun scaring away the horny teenangers trying to have sex and use drugs in there.”

"Aw, at least you're here with me today!" she smiles and you give her an unamused smile.  "I'll be nice, I know you hate the smell, so I’ll stay here and you can do the stocking tonight!"

Your problem is being a little naive around your friends. Sure, the popcorn smell was bad, but you didn't know that stocking the stalls would mean walking around, back and forth, carrying paper bags, corn bags, cans of soda and even organizing the pantry's shelves. You also didn’t know the stockroom is basically all the way across the park.

"Who knew we sold that much soda here." You murmur after your 5th trip to the pantry to restock soda.

"It's not that we sell a lot, it's just that this mini fridge is too small."

"Yeah, I noticed," you narrow your eyes at your friend who just laughs and talks to a new customer.

After a couple of hours, things start to get slower at the stall, so you have time to organize and store everything in their right place. You were definitely not used to this kind of job, just staying behind the scenes, not dealing with annoying adults and small children, but you seem to enjoy it. You pull out your phone and plug your earphones to listen to some music to pass time. The stockroom was a container that stayed behind the ferris wheel and the walls of the park didn’t allow people to see it.

The songs coming from your headphones distract you so much that you don't notice someone hiding behind the open door of the container. They opened from outside, so they blocked the view of who was behind it, but the lights from the ferris wheel allowed you to see a weirdly shaped shadow. You get closer and jump at the sight of the Sunny, the bear too close to your face.

"What the fuck?" you hear him say and you get so startled that you end up pushing it, almost making it fall on the ground.

"I should be the one saying that, dude," you answer, holding the stack of popcorn bags close to you. "What are you doing here?”

"Hiding," you can faintly hear the person's voice through the gigantic head of the costume.

"What?" 

"I'm hiding from the kids," the bear points to your left, the direction of the park. "There is a little kid today that is just obsessed with kicking my ankle."

You laugh at that and go back inside the stockroom to put the popcorn bags in their place. The bear stays outside and you wonder if this is your chance of finally seeing the mysterious not-so-new guy that has been the hot topic for a while.

"Hey," you lean on the door's frame, calling the bear's attention to you "How long have you been working here?"

"Since the 90's, or something like the story Taeyong told me." you laugh at that, hearing the bear chuckle as well. "I started some weeks ago. Why?"

"I was just wondering, because I’m seeing Sunny around too often," you shrug. "You’re the new guy Donghyuck, right?"

"You have a lot of questions, I see," you hear the teasing tone and just roll your eyes. “Flirty, much? Can’t resist the bear’s charm?”

"I hope you can't see shit with this big ass head in this terrible lighting, and end up falling."

"HEY! I was just kidding, don't be mean," he moves a little bit closer to you. 

“You are very good at being vague and changing the topic, mister Sunny, the bear.”

“What can I say, I like being mysterious,” with the silence between both of you, you can hear Taeyong cursing, which is very unusual of him. "Shit, I think I hear Taeyong." 

"Are you afraid of getting fired?"

"No, I'm afraid he's gonna make me work," he answers and you can't help but laugh, calling Taeyong's attention to you and the bear.

Ever since that shift, you started getting somewhat closer to Sunny, who you are sure is the Lee Donghyuck, even though he didn’t confirm it. You still haven't got the chance to see him without the costume and your interactions are always short, but there is something so familiar about him… 

It is also very fun to see Sunny interacting with the staff. Sometimes, he walks past the food stall and shakes Mina's hand, or hi-five Chenle when he passes by the spinning cups. But your favorite thing is when he stays next to the merry-go-around, right across the bumper cars, and throws flying kisses in your direction. It feels like Donghyuck is showing a little bit of his personality through Sunny and you have to admit that the guy is pretty nice to be around. And just like that, what was once a very creepy looking bear that you avoided at all costs, becomes a very creepy looking bear that you expect to see during your shifts. 

Today, Donghyuck decided to walk past the bumper cars and make a “call me” sign, right after sending you hearts and dancing with little kids. You try not to pay much attention to him, but it’s cute how he never forgets to interact with everybody around him and doesn’t leave until he makes his coworkers smile at least for a few seconds.

There is a particular child giving him a hard time, though. You see the little boy, probably ten, trying to take the bear's head at all costs. It tried climbing on Donghyuck, pulled his arms and even kicked his ankle once. There was usually someone to keep him company to avoid annoying kids like those. Where is Taeyong? 

"Hey," you see a girl getting out of the bumper cars all by herself. "You, pigtail." The girl seems tall and strong enough to win a fight, you think . "I'll give you five bucks if you push that boy over there."

"Make it ten and I'll pull his hair too," she opens her hands, motioning you to give her money.

Eventually, Taeyong ends up putting you in trash duty for three days after finding out that you "incited" a fight in a family friendly environment, even though you will deny it forever. You don't mind it too much, because it allows you to walk around the park and talk to everybody, and whenever Sunny is around, you can get a little bit closer while he sends you flying kisses. 

You don't know why, but having that huge weird-looking bear around has definitely made working here better.

"Well, I have some news," Taeyong says, calling everyone's attention. "We will be shutting down the haunted house, the merry-go-round and the spinning cup."

You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Although you were all expecting that summer break would be a game changer for the business, only a miracle could save the Funfair. To be fair, Taeyong had managed to improve a couple of things here and there: he repainted the front of the park, fixed the broken trash cans and even hired Renjun to make a nice mural at the front (which was really nice for marketing, because teenagers love to take pictures there). There was a general feeling that the business was changing and the summer was a breath of fresh air to everybody, but the summer break wasn’t as miraculous as your hopeful and young minds thought.

"Why the spinning cups? They were fine though," Chenle pouts and Taeyong just shakes his head. 

"I know you like it there, Lele, but a third of the cups aren't spinning properly and there are just so many vomits I can clean up in a day," he sighs and you feel the tense atmosphere in the air. 

“We should have shut down the haunted house a long time ago, in my opinion,” Yeri says, eating a lollipop. “I don’t know how Doyoung endured horny teenangers trying to have sex in there for so long.”

“It was nice staying inside to scare them away,” he shrugged.

“I bet the merry-go-round is Jisung’s fault though,” you say, provoking Jisung, who sticks his tongue out.

“Actually, the engine is heating up so, if anything, Jisung shutting it off every now and then actually helped.” Yuta says besides Taeyong, leaning on the lockers.

“Okay, let’s stop,” he says, visibly stressed. “This is a report, it’s not open for comments, everyone.”

“But, I have ques-”

“Shut up.”

"I know you are all wondering what's going to happen, but don't worry, we got this!” Taeyong starts speaking again, expecting us to be silent. “I have reorganized everybody’s positions: Jisung will take the bumper cars. Y/N and Chenle can decide who will take the ferris wheel and the roller coaster, I just can’t have Jisung on neither because I don’t trust him with the safety procedures. No offense, Jisung." 

“None taken, hyung,” he says, eating a lollipop.

“We don’t have experience in those rides, it was usually the more experienced staff who took care of it,” you raise your hand, worried.

“It’s okay, we’ll train you.”

“What about Doyoung hyung and Yuta hyung?” Chenle asks worriedly.

“Kids, don’t worry about anything else, alright?” Taeyong smiles reassuringly, ending the meeting and sending everybody home. 

A week after the sudden change of positions, everything was running smoothly. Doyoung and Yuta helped you and Chenle and for the first three days, teaching you how to control the rides and slowly letting you do it by yourselves. Despite everything looking almost the same as usual, you couldn’t shake the weird feeling out of your chest. Why did Taeyong suddenly shut down part of the park? It’s not as if there is much of it left anyways. He didn't say much about Yuta and Doyoung after they stopped training us. Did they get fired? You haven’t seen Sunny in a while. Did Taeyong fire Donghyuck too? Will you be next?

The prospect of getting fired makes you realize you haven't really worried about looking for a good internship in a while. You can’t really blame yourself for getting tired of it after the countless no’s. And, honestly, you were comfortable working for Taeyong. Sure, the pay wasn’t great, but the job isn’t demanding and your boss is not pressuring you to do anything more than come to work, press a few buttons, make sure no one gets into an accident, and go home. But your parents had already started to worry about your career, thinking your job at the theme park wasn’t as temporary as they thought it would be. You think it’s time for you to start worrying about it too, so you decide that as soon as the summer break is over, you must find somewhere else to work. 

Even though you know you need to find another job, a tiny little part of your heart hurts at the thought of leaving everyone behind. Would you be able to find such nice and welcoming people anywhere else? You realize your mind has wandered for too long when you see brown paws shaking in front of your face. 

"A penny for your thoughts?" you hear Donghyuck’s voice and smile.

"Sunny does not use human language to communicate. Taeyong will get angry at you," you cross your arms and lean on the railing behind you.

"It's not like there's a lot of people around anyways. The only kid is you" he stands next to you, just looking at the empty park. You slap his arm and he chuckles. "It's almost closing time, I don't know why I'm still wearing this."

"You get more breaks than we do, work for once, please," you joke and hear his sweet laugh muffled by the costume.

"Try walking around with this gigantic stinky head to see if you wouldn't need a break every 30 minutes too." You smile and make your way to the control cabin when you take a look at the time. 

“Time to turn off the lights and go home,” you say, pressing a few buttons on the panel.

“I didn’t know they changed your position,” you hear the boy speaking loudly so you can hear him from the cabin. "I found out the hard way.”

“And what is the hard way?” you scream back, starting to get out of the cabin and heading to the stairs. 

“I can’t really see from afar with this mask on, you know…” He sighs and you frown at him. “Yeri told me today I had spent the past week sending flying kisses to Jisung and not you.” 

You cackle with laughter from the sudden confession. Now it makes sense why you have spent the entire week without seeing a sign of him. You just thought Sunny was one of the things Taeyong was slowly getting rid of.

"You must be completely blind with this head on," you say, walking down the steps and being face to face with the bear. "Can you even see anything now with the lights off?"

"I can figure it out."

You extend your arm, offering it. "C'mon, I'll lead the way."

“The ferris wheel is very far from the breakroom, you know. That’s why I never come here,” he says, locking arms with you.

“Yeah, I know. On the weekend I always have to run if I don’t wanna miss the last bus.”

“Will I have to keep walking all the way down the ferris wheel to see you?”

“Yes,” you laugh wholeheartedly as he groans. You start walking, your arms linked together, and your curiosity perks up. "I have a question," you hear some humming and decide to keep going. "Why have I never seen you, Donghyuck?" 

"It’s because I’m not Donghyuck, I’m Sunny, silly!” you scoff and listen to his cheeky laugh.

"You are a little frustrating, you know that? I like it better when you can't speak." you huff, but keep walking towards the exit of the park. "Should I wait for you outside the bathroom to know who you are?"

"Don't be a creep,” he teases, and you slap his arm covered by the costume.

"I just think it’s unfair how you know who I am and I only know your name because Mina loves gossiping around,” you pout and feel a pet in your head.

"You really have no idea who I am?” he scoffs, sounding disappointed and you get confused. “Yeah, didn’t think you would remember me.”

“What are you talking about?” you frown and he just shrugs it off. “Am I supposed to know you?”

“I don’t know, are you?” 

“Stop it!” you say, slightly frustrated. 

“Okay, okay," you hear him chuckling. "I think our schedules are just incompatible.”

“I think you are just ugly and are embarrassed,” you tease and you hear him gasp. 

“Holy shit, you’re mean,” he pretends to be offended as you laugh. “But, wait, have you been thinking about me and what I look like?”

You can’t see his face, but the smugness you hear in his voice is enough to annoy you (and make you blush, because… yes, you have.)

“If you don’t stop with the nonsense I’ll leave you to walk alone in the dark,” you warn him, passing by the merry-go-round, reaching the middle of the park.

“I think you are the one who doesn’t want to be alone, honey,” he teases you again, and you motion to unlink your arms but he immediately apologizes. “No, no, sorry, sorry. I’ll shut up.”

You keep walking in a comfortable silence until you decide to speak again “Do you think we’re getting fired?”

“Why do you think that?”

“It’s just…” you sigh and Donghyuck starts to slow down your pace. “I mean, we know this business is not flourishing, but I can’t lie, I thought summer break would help. Now with Taeyong shutting down part of the park, summer break is almost over, I don’t know…”

“I think you shouldn’t worry too much about that,” he says sincerely and you scoff.

“Yeah, sure,” you keep silent for a little while, but Donghyuck feels you still have some things to get off your chest. “If I get fired before getting an internship I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve already disappointed my parents so many times, and I’m so frustrated with myself. I.. Should I even keep trying to become a journalist? I think I should just ask Renjun to set me up with some rich dude. I don’t think he would, though, He was the one that found me this job when his parents are filthy rich and know basically every businessman in the city.”

“Renjun’s parents are not that rich, they just know a lot of people,” he adds, making you sigh again.

“I wish I knew a lot of people. Actually, I wish I knew the right people. I wouldn’t be here struggling to find an internship if I did.”

“Well, I think you shouldn’t worry too much about this.”

“Yeah, easier said than done. I have been trying to get an internship for, what, six months? I must be really bad because I didn’t even get a single interview.”

“I think you shouldn’t worry too much because what is supposed to happen, will happen.” He turns his head to you and tilts it to the right. “Maybe, you won’t find the perfect job you’re looking for right now, but there will be some other opportunities that might help you achieve your goal. Have you ever watched Monsters University?”

“Oh, you are not about to give me advice based on a Pixar movie,” you chuckle and Donghyuck gets defensive.

“Well, if you haven’t seen it yet, you should, because you’re being very Mike Wazowski right now,” you laugh at his comparison, promising him you would see the movie as soon as you got home. 

Even after the heartfelt conversation, you haven’t met Donghyuck as himself yet. You don’t know if your schedules really didn’t align or if he was actively avoiding you after you just spilled your worries out of nowhere. You don’t think it was a reasonable option considering he would still go out of his way to greet you at the ferris wheel, even if it meant cutting his break 5 minutes because it took him longer to get to the breakroom.

But you can’t help but feel weird when you hear Yeri and Mina casually talking about Donghyuck's opinion on the drama they are watching together. How did they even get that close? I mean, there was still the theory that he was Yeri’s boyfriend so you guess that made sense, but why wouldn’t he talk to you about the drama too? You could start watching it. Even Chenle seemed to socialize more with Donghyuck outside work than you, as he constantly mentions how they meet up sometime to go to a cybercafe to play games. Why are you the only one that has short interactions with him dressed up as the fucking creepy bear? Plus, there is the constant feeling of familiarity when you’re around him, but you can’t remember from where you might know each other. It was all driving you really, really mad. 

“Why are you frowning?” Doyoung asks as you’re sitting down in Taeyong's office, waiting for him.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Your face looks like a raisin.”

“Don’t call me raisin!” You raise your voice, getting angrier by the minute. “Do you know Donghyuck?” 

Doyoung seems startled by your sudden change of subject. “Of course I do, he works here.”

“Have you met him outside work? Like, in normal clothes, not in a bear costume.” 

“Obviously, he’s Jeno’s childhood friend,” he says matter-of-factly. Jeno? You know that name… “Why are you being so-”

“Wait, Jeno? Lee Jeno? As in Huang Renjun’s friend?”

“I don’t know any Huang Renjun, but, yeah, Lee Jeno, he’s like a brother-”

“HOLY SHIT,” you gasp and cover your mouth. “Shit, what the fuck, this is not real.”

“I know you’re off the clock, but it’s sorta rude to curse like that.”

“Doyoung, I know Donghyuck,” you ignore him, standing up and holding his arms with pleading eyes. “I know who Donghyuck is.

“Considering you have been working together for a month or so, that’s… great?” He says cautiously.

“Tell Taeyong I’ll talk to him tomorrow, I have to make a phone call,” You say, grabbing your backpack and bolting out of the room. 

As soon as Doyoung mentioned Jeno, everything clicked together.

You remembered the night at the party, when you met that cute guy and you just decided to kiss all night long, chat about the most random things while you get drunk on the expensive Japanese beer he said he bought, but you find out later that it was Jeno’s. You remember talking about your favorite seasons and him telling you you might be meant to be because you love summer and his gaming nickname meant fullsun. You should have recognized him as soon as you heard him tease you for the first time. Damn, he even mentioned Renjun’s parents as if he knew them personally and you didn’t bat an eye. How could you be so stupid? 

The first problem is not recognizing him. The second problem is how are you going to face him after taking so long to recognize him. Now you understand why he probably didn’t want you to see him without the costume, imagine how embarrassing it will be for you. 

Donghyuck never works two days in a row, so hopefully he won’t be here today, right? Wait, was he here yesterday? You don’t remember. If you don’t remember, he probably wasn’t, so, does that mean you will have to see him today? But maybe it’s just your bad memory. You needed advice about this situation, what would you do from now? You are sprinting to the breakroom, ready to put your things away and call your roommate.

When you get there, you immediately couch down to put your things on the locker, not bothering to look if the 606 locker is available. It hasn’t been ever since Donghyuck started here anyways. As you are having trouble shoving the backpack inside the small locker, you see someone standing behind you, silently opening one of the lockers too.

“Your phone’s on the floor.”

He points out to the bright screen of your phone that has fallen from your hands and is sitting right beside you. You take a glance at the lock screen, seeing Doyoung’s threatening message, and scoff.

[doyoung manager (dangerous)]: If you canceled this meeting to gossip with the other kids, I’ll make Taeyong put you in trash duty for a whole month. 

“Honestly, I’m here having a crisis and Doyoung thinks I’m gossiping,” you grumble while still trying to shove the backpack inside “What’s wrong with this locker tod-”

“Do you need help?” 

You feel like someone has knocked the air out of your lungs when you see Donghyuck crouched down beside you, wearing a cheeky smile. You fall on your butt and he immediately holds your arms to help you stand back to your original position. 

“Do you need help?” he repeats, his head motioning to the lockers and you simply nod. “It can be tricky to fit the whole bag inside these lockers.”

You just nod again, and stand up, letting him put it inside the tiny metal box and close it. “Password?” you look at him confused. “Are you not locking it?”

“No, we never lock it,” you shake your head and gasp. You move a little to the side to see the 606 locker taken, and look back at him angrily. “So it was you this whole time. You stole my locker!”

“I didn’t steal anything, it was there and I took it.”

“It was my perfect little locker, perfect height., perfect size,” you mourn half-jokingly.

“Why don’t you take the other ones?”

He stands up, meeting you face to face and you have to admit that it is a whole new thing to see him in good lighting without his bear costume. He is hotter than you remembered. His hair is also longer and wavy, different from when you first met. Damn you and your thing for boys with long hair.

“They're all taken and I can’t reach the one above yours,” you shrug, avoiding his eyes. “I didn’t know you had work today, Haechan.” You use the nickname he told you back at the party and that makes him smile.

“Oh, so now you remember me?” The smugness of his voice makes you shy and he notices it by the way you smile and starts to move away from him.

“Yeah, about that, I should apologize,” you say, sitting down in one of the chairs. “I should have connected the dots as soon as you told me about Renjun’s parents.”

“Oh,” the smug expression on his face dies as he lets out what seemed to be a disappointed sigh. 

“What?” you ask with wide eyes. “Am I being stupid again?”

“Oh, no,” he chuckles humorlessly as he leans on the lockers and puts his hands inside the pockets of the leather jacket. Be damned the leather jackets, you think. “I thought you were going to apologize for not calling.”

“What?” you let out an airy laugh.

“That night at the party, you said you would call me.”

“I don’t have your number though, how would I call you?” You remember the kissing, and his hands, and his hoarse voice whispering sweet nothings in your ears, but you definitely don’t remember having his number.

Donghyuck takes his hand out of his pocket and stretches it out in front of you, asking for your phone. You give it to him, open it on the keypad, and he gives a few taps before handing it back to you. He didn’t even need to finish typing the whole thing because it was there, on the top of the screen: “Lee Donghyuck” written in bold, with his number right beside it. 

You start to think you don’t remember as much from that night as you thought you did. You grunt and he just chuckles.

“At least now I know I wasn’t rejected, you just forgot” he jokes and sits in front of you, who was hiding your face in your hands. “I just don’t know if that’s better or not.”

“I don’t know what happened, I wasn’t that drunk to forget your name and your number.”

“You forgot my name too?” he says half-offended, now understanding why you didn’t recognize him before. “Damn, were you that cock drunk?”

“Now, don’t cross a line, Lee Donghyuck,” you immediately sit up straight, sending him a glare. “We didn’t go that far.”

“Sorry, bad joke,” He lowers his head, avoiding your eyes, “We could’ve.”

“We could have what?”

“If you had called,” he says, leaning his body on the table as he doesn't break eye contact. “We could’ve gone as far as you wanted.”

“WHAT’S UP!” Chenle says loudly as he opens the door abruptly. “What are you guys talking about?”

You use that as your cue to compose yourself from Donghyuck’s very suggestive words, and point at your own ears, giving Chenle a sign that he needs to lower the volume of his earpods.

“Oh, sorry, was I screaming?” he puts his stuff in his locker and sits between you and Donghyuck, painfully unaware of the tension in the air. “What were you guys- Oh, Y/N, you finally met him!”

Donghyuck snaps his head in Chenle’s direction and you start praying he will not say anything that could embarrass you. “You were so jealous that you were the only one that hadn't met him properly yet.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you say distressed, stressing your distaste for his choice of words. “It was just weird how-”

“Oh, you so were,” both boys giggled and you rolled your eyes, standing up hastily, making the chair screech. “Please, you got all pouty the day I mentioned we play together.”

“Honey, if you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked.” Donghyuck is clearly having the time of his life with Chenle’s information.

You groan as you leave the breakroom and they keep teasing you. You definitely need better friends.

"Who would have thought that all you had to do to start dating was confessing, right?” Chenle says sarcastically while all of you are hanging out in the breakroom. 

“Wait, so you weren’t dating before?” Taeyong asks the couple sitting in front of him.

“No, they were just very much in love and just as oblivious,” you say, munching on the chocolate chip cookie Taeyong baked for the staff today.

"Well, it’s not like that, I was already planning on confessing…" Jisung scratches the back of his head and Chenle scoffs.

"Yeah, since freshman year… of HIGH SCHOOL," and you see Mina blushing when Jisung giggles and kisses her cheek, giving her a silent confirmation that Chenle's statement was nothing but the truth.

"Oh my god, she still blushes at everything he does!" Yeri exclaims and Chenle gags, muttering 'disgusting'.

Apparently, the past weekend has been full of surprises. Taeyong had a “pressing family matter” to attend to, so he decided to close the park and give everybody the Saturday and Sunday off. Probably not the smartest move for a failing business but who are you to complain? 

With two days off on the weekend, everybody had their own thing: Yeri went to the beach with her boyfriend (Mina is still Team Johnny, but Jisung and I think he is too tall compared to the silhouette photos Yeri showed us). Chenle went to a basketball game and adopted a dog, out of nowhere. He only shut up about the game to show us Daegal’s pictures which we very much appreciated. Jisung had invited Mina on a picnic date, but she accidentally heard him practicing his confession, which led them to, finally, become boyfriend and girlfriend. 

You, well, you had a date with Donghyuck. It was a friendly date, he just asked you out to get some coffee. And have lunch. And you eventually ended up going with him to his friend’s photography exhibition. In your defense, he was very pleasant to be around and it’s always good to be in contact with the arts.

You woke up that Saturday ready to do something fun, but your roommate and her boyfriend already had plans, just like everybody else from work. At first you decided to stay at home and just enjoy your day alone, but then you remembered how long it had been the last time you had a free weekend. Like, the whole weekend. After the whole ordeal with Donghyuck, you became good friends so you thought it wouldn’t hurt if you messaged him to see if he wanted to do something, right? As friends, of course!.

[you - 10:30 a.m]: hey how’s your day off?

[donghyuckie - 10:30 a.m]: damn honey

[donghyuckie  - 10:30 a.m]: not even a whole day 

[donghyuckie  - 10:30 a.m]: miss me already? 

[you - 10:30 a.m]: oh fuck off

[you - 10:31 a.m]: i just wanted to know if you had plans

[you - 10:31 a.m]: because i don’t and i’m bored

[donghyuckie  - 10:32 a.m]: i can be free

[donghyuckie  - 10:32 a.m]: why?

[you  - 10:33 a.m]: wanna get some coffee?

[you  - 10:33 a.m]: u pay

[donghyuckie  - 10:35 a.m]: 🙄

[donghyuckie  - 10:35 a.m]: meet me at 7dream in 10 min

[you  - 10:35 a.m]: i need 30 to get ready tho

[donghyuckie  - 10:35 a.m]: be there in 10 or you pay

You did your best to look as presentable as possible in record time, only for Donghyuck to arrive at the café twenty minutes later, saying he didn’t think you would take him seriously and would just take your time getting ready. He did apologize for being late and after eating breakfast, he waited as you went back home to look more presentable during lunch.

You see, spending time with Donghyuck was very confusing for you because he always made flirty comments and dirt jokes around you, but never really tried to initiate anything. He was pretty hard to read, in your personal opinion, but it was so fun to have him around and he was always so thoughtful and nice, that you never let useless thoughts fill your mind. And what if you made out once in a party months ago? You didn’t remember his name, you never called and you only met again by chance. You could totally be friends, all the “tension” that you once had, if you ever had it, was water under the bridge!

At least that’s what you thought.

"Are you gaslighting me into thinking I don't like you?" Donghyuck asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"I am simply stating the fact that you are most likely only having fun flirting with me," you explained, sipping your drink. "It's like a sport to some people."

It was late, really late. The workers at the diner were probably cursing both of you for getting there as it was about to close, so you just decided to keep drinking your milkshake so you both could leave as fast as possible.

"Well, not to me," he scoffed, leaning back on the couch feeling frustrated at your words.

“Earth to Y/N,” Mina shakes her hand in front of your face, taking you out of your thoughts.

“OH, sorry, what’s up?” 

“What did you do on the weekend?” Yeri asks, and you suddenly feel shy when everybody’s attention is on you. “Wait, are you blushing?”

“No way!” Jisung exclaims and you start to feel your face hotter by the second.

“And just know she was so distracted…” Mina smirks and your eyes widen, shaking your head.

“Y/N’S GOT A BOYFRIEND, Y/N’S GOT A BOYFRIEND,” Chenle sing-songs like a nine year-old and the other ones join him. 

“It’s not-” you try to speak but they just sing louder, making you sigh in frustration.

“Stop, children,” Taeyong calls their attention and you sigh in relief, thinking he is going to scold them. Your peace doesn’t last long, though. “We don’t know if it’s a boyfriend or a girlfriend!”

They all look at each other before Chenle starts singing again:

“Y/N WENT ON A DATE, Y/N WENT ON A DATE.”

“You are all absolutely insufferable,” you say, standing up and pretending you don’t hear how they keep teasing you about your “date”.

Donghyuck opens the break room door right when you are ready to leave. You stop yourself before your bodies collide and he simply smiles. “What’s going on?”

“Noth-”

“Y/N WENT ON A DATE, Y/N WHEN ON A DATE.” Chenle chants again and you turn your body to face him from across the room.

“Shut up, Chenle! Nobody said it’s true.” You don’t have time to lay a guilt trip on Chenle because Donghyuck beats you to it, giving the crowd exactly what they wanted.

“It’s true, though, you went on a date with me,” Donghyuck says seriously and everybody gasps. He walks towards the lockers and smiles when he sees that you took locker 606 before him today. “We spent the whole Saturday together.”

You see Jisung flabbergasted as he lets out “Oh my god, you’re dating Yeri’s boyfriend?”

“Shut up, Jisung,” Mina elbows him at the same time that Yeri, Taeyong and Donghyuck scream a “What???”

“It was a friendly date, I’M NOT DATING ANYBODY!” You scream the last part, storming off the break room and pretending you don’t hear Donghyuck quietly say ‘yet”.

“So you’re telling me you have a boyfriend and his name is Mark?” Mina confirms the information, still not sounding quite sure of it yet.

“Don’t mind her, she was team Johnny.” Chenle tells Yeri, making her look more confused.

“Team who?” Taeyong just stands there, trying to understand the whole situation. “I have so many questions…”

“And you,” Jisung says, turning to Donghyuck. “Met Y/N months ago at Yeri's boyfriend party, fell in love, but she forgot about you, so you had to get this job as Sunny, the bear to make her fall for you again and remember you?” He finishes, leaving Donghyuck absolutely stunned at the boy’s lack of ability to hold a single information in his brain.

“This is not what I said at all, you literally made up 90% of this story.”

After you stormed out, you went outside some of the opening tasks for today and you were hoping someone would come to help you out soon, but twenty minutes later, only Doyoung appeared, asking where the others were. After not having any answer from you, he calls Taeyong who just says ‘wait 10 more minutes and we’ll have so much to talk about’. He decides to go to the breakroom and see for himself what on earth is going on in the park today, only to find the boss, one of the managers and all the other workers sitting around the table, gossiping.

“She does seem a little silly, I have to admit,” Yuta says nonchalantly.

“She’s worse than Mina and Jisung together, honestly,” Chenle shakes his head, “Dumb as a door.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Doyoung says in a serious tone, startling everybody.

“I told you to wait 10 minutes, Hyuck is about to finish his story,” Taeyong shakes his head, shooing Doyoung away. “Someone needs to be in charge. Go, go, I’ll tell you later.”

“YOU are the one in charge.” Doyoung scoffs, but goes anyway, someone should be helping you. 

Donghyuck retells the whole story of how you met and how disappointed he was when you didn’t call. He told everyone about how he got this job because his friend’s girlfriend, who is Yeri, knew he needed a part-time job. He got to the Funfair having no idea what he was going to do, much less knowing that you worked here too. He told them how happy he got the first time he saw you helping Mina at the food stalls, and how he recognized you by your voice, because he couldn’t really see much when he was wearing the costume. 

He told them all about how he tried getting your attention as Sunny when you didn’t seem to recognize him, but it backfired because you couldn’t remember him and he was starting to get sad. He told them that he actively avoided you when he wasn’t wearing his costume to avoid the embarrassment of you not knowing who he was. Then, he said how you accidentally found out who he was, how he got closer to you each day and how it all backfired when he confessed last Saturday and you rejected him. 

"Are you gaslighting me into thinking I don't like you?" Donghyuck asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"I am simply stating the fact that you are most likely only having fun flirting with me," you explained, sipping your drink. "It's like a sport to some people."

"Well, not to me," he scoffed, leaning back on the couch feeling frustrated at your words.

"Either way, it's probably not real feelings. At least not towards me." you said, not looking in his eyes.

"You are unbelievably stubborn, blind and borderline rude," he spitted out, feeling the anger building up. How dare you have a say on what he feels about you? 

"See? Why would you like someone with a nasty personality like that?" your arms moved around excitingly, as if you were proving your point. "You like the chase, not me!" 

And then, Donghyuck confessed how he was ready to look you in the eyes and fight back, but the words died on his throat when he saw the huge smile on your face. He paid attention to the way your palms were open in front of you, arms stretched towards him, the way that wrinkles were all around your eyes from how much you were smiling and how excited you looked. He admitted that it dawned upon him that he likes you to the extent that he could let you keep thinking, for a moment, that he's not absolutely in falling for you if it meant that you would keep smiling like that. 

Donghyuck understands that he can't always win. So, he gave you that one, letting you think you were right. He let you go back to your milkshake and your pancakes tasting of syrup and the satisfaction of being on the winning end of an argument. 

He let you win that battle so he could win the war. Eventually.

“How will you win her over, then?” Mina looks at him curiously.

“I don’t have a plan,” Donghyuck sees the disapproving look on their faces and quickly adds. “Yet.” They all look at him suspiciously, and he can see Taeyong’s amused face. “Can’t you guys help me? You’re all her friends.”

"Oh, no," Chenle clicks his tongue while excessively shaking his index finger "No, no."

"We're here to judge not to meddle," Jisung says and all of them start moving around, getting ready to go to work.

"Yeah, take Jisung and Mina as an example, they got together by themselves. We never helped, only judged.” Yeri complements, making Jisung agree with a sad ‘yeah’.

"That's so messed up," Donghyuck shakes his head in disbelief. "You are all insane."

"Well, I can call her a coward if it helps you," Chenle. "It's what I did to Mina all these years."

"That's mean, Chenle,” Taeyong says disapprovingly. 

"Frankly, it worked eventually," Mina replies as she stands up from the seat and stretches. 

She kisses Jisung cheek and heads out, and, slowly, everybody goes to their normal, uneventful job at Sunny’s Funfair Park and Recreation.

After the eventful Saturday when Donghyuck confessed, you never touched the “feelings” subject anymore. He is still Lee Donghyuck, your friend and coworker whom, sometimes, you go out with. Nothing more, nothing less. And on days like today, when it has been raining non stop since 10 a.m, it was amazing having an energetic friend like him. 

You don’t know how he did it, really. The rain caught you all by surprise, so Donghyuck, who works outside, had to stay in the breakroom until the rain stopped, and that only happened around 9 p.m. There were no customers at all, the park was empty and even though you were supposed to stay open until midnight today, Taeyong decided to let you all go home early. 

Chenle was complaining how the last hangout had been the one at Jisung’s house before Mina and him were even dating, and just like that, all of you end up in Donghyuck’s apartment drinking hot chocolate and playing card games.

It’s time for all of you to show your cards and you hear Chenle groan as Donghyuck smirks and gets all the tokens from the table.

“It’s rigged, he got a full house twice and then royal flush right after,” Chenle scoffs and Donghyuck just laughs.

“Damn, he really won three times in a row?” Mina says and you and Jisung just exchange confused looks, having no idea what had happened.

“Poker is a very confusing game,” you think out loud and Donghyuck smiles sweetly at you.

“Lucky at cards, unlucky in love,” he mumbles, shuffling the cards. “Do you wanna play again or will you keep crying?”

You look at the empty popcorn bowls and mugs beside you and look at Jisung who is just as confused as you. Tired of playing a game you can barely understand, you just shake your head. “You can keep playing, I’ll wash the dishes.”

Before you can even get all of the mugs around you, Donghyuck is standing up, holding the popcorn bowls and a few mugs. You don’t have time to tell him to keep playing because he just goes straight to the kitchen, making you follow him. When you get there, he already has the gloves and the sponge on his hand. 

“I thought I said I’d do it,” you angrily put your hands on your hips, scolding him with your eyes.

“I’m sorry it’s against the house rules to have a beautiful lady washing the dishes,” he bumps his hips with yours, making you scoff as you try to hide your smile.

“Where’s Jeno, by the way?” you say, leaning your back on the kitchen sink, right next to him. “You invited us over before telling him, didn’t you?”

“Nah, it’s cool.” He shrugs. “He told me he wasn't going to spend the night here today anyways.” 

“Girlfriend?” You raise an eyebrow, leaning a little to his side, almost brushing your shoulders together.

“Why are you so curious? Do I have to compete with Jeno?” He asks playfully and you just push his shoulder.

“I was just asking.” You mumble, moving back to your original position. “By the way, Doyoung told me the other day that Jeno is like his brother? And Yeri gave you this job? Your relationships are so confusing.”

He laughs looking at you fondly. “What do you wanna know? Ask away.”

“Hm, how do you know Doyoung? And Yeri? And Jeno?” 

“Do you want to know my family tree too?” He jokes and you show him your tongue. “Jeno, Mark and I are childhood friends, Doyoung hyung’s family is really close to Jeno’s, so we all just know each other from birthday parties and stuff. We are not that close though.”

“Oh.” You mumble nodding. “Yeri told us she got you the job though?”

“Yeah, she's been dating Mark for like a year?” He says, shrugging. “Either way, that was a coincidence, I didn’t know she knew Doyoung hyung. Actually, I thought he was working at his father’s law firm? I don’t know what happened, his family is weird.”

“Damn, I was here waiting for the tea and you don’t know anything!” You huff, faking annoyance. “You’re really bad at gossiping.” You notice he is starting to rinse the dishes in the sink, so you grab the towel that’s on the counter. 

“And you’re really bad at poker.” He fights back, giving you some mugs to dry and put away. “Why did you say you liked playing cards if you’re bad at it?”

“It’s because I don’t know how to play poker,” you answer, lining up the dry mugs on the counter. “I like to play rummy, not poker.”

“You should have said so.” He gently places the two big popcorn bowls and closes the faucet. “We could have played that instead.”

“It’s okay, I just wanted to hang out with you.” You confess, hoping he understands you weren’t using the plural form of the pronoun. “I didn’t know you were that good at poker, though, I thought you only played League of Legends or whatever.”

“I’m not good, it was rigged,” He leans to whisper in your ears and you feel your pulse hammering on your neck. He chuckles at your startled expression, thinking you’re reacting to his confession, not to his proximity. “I’m joking, don’t be that shocked. Jeno and I just play a lot.”

“What about your other friend?” you ask, not really minding his proximity.

“Mark?” He scoffs when you nod. “He can’t bluff to save his life.”

“You smell nice,” you blurt out and his eyes go wide at your sudden confession. “I- I meant your house.” You use this moment as an opportunity to slide away from him. “Your house smells nice, do you use scented candles?” He chuckles, ready to tease you, but lets it slide. 

In the living room, Jisung is sleeping like a rock on Mina’s lap, who is starting to doze off as well. Chenle pokes his friends' arms, saying he has to go because his mom is already worried about his whereabouts. Slowly, they all start to collect their belongings and when you and Donghyuck are back from the kitchen, they are all ready to go. The two of you are taken aback as they bid their goodbyes and thank Donghyuck for being the host for the night.

You decide to stay a little longer to help the owner of the apartment to put everything back in place, when he suddenly asks you to stay the night.

“It’s late, I’ll worry if you go back now,” he pouts. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, I’m serious.”

“I go home late everyday, it’s fine.”

“You have 2 choices,” he raises his index and middle finger in front of you. “Either I take you home or you stay the night.”

“Why didn’t you suggest taking the others home too?” you cross your arms in front of him, clearly challenging Donghyuck. Oh, he is so ready for another battle, but this time he won’t bend.

“Because Jeno has the car.”

“Then how are you taking me home?” you tilt your head playfully. 

“I’ll get an uber,” he shrugs, making you laugh. 

“I was already gonna do that, silly,” you fish your phone out of your pocket to open the app, but Donghycuk steals the phone from your hands. “Donghyuck!”

“I’ll get an uber,” he says, locking your phone and putting it in the front pocket of his sweatpants. “And go with you to drop you off.”

You laugh, clearly amused at his absurd suggestion. “There is no way I’ll let you do that.”

“There is no way I’ll let you get inside a stranger's cars by yourself at 1 a.m.” The firm tone of his voice was enough to let you know he was not dropping this argument like he did last time.

“And how will you get back to your apartment?” 

“It doesn’t matter, it’s none of your-” you get too close to him and he feels the words dying in his throat at the thought of you hugging him. Donghyuck quickly reacts, though, when he feels you putting your hands inside the left pocket of his sweatpants, making him hold your arms to keep you in place. “HEY. Bad girl.”

“Don’t say that, I’m not a dog.” You grunt, trying to break free from his hold. “Give me my phone, back Hyuck.” 

Your whines don’t affect him too much, as he keeps his strong hold on you. You start to take a few steps around the living room, shaking your arms as you try to make him let go. Picturing this scene in your head, you start laughing at how ridiculous the whole thing must look. 

“Good girls don’t fight with daddy!” He forces a mocking sexy voice, making you laugh even harder. “Damn, I love you laugh.”

You are still giggling when you turn to look at his face. Donghyuck is already staring at you with utmost adoration and slightly curved lips. Your heart skips a few beats when your eyes lock and he bites his lips to hold his ever growing smile. 

“I really love the sound of your laugh.”

His face is closer to yours than you remember, and it’s when he loosens the hold on your arms, only to slide his hands to hold yours, that you realize you have been holding your breath.

“If you don’t want me to go with you, then, stay.” He whispers, using your interlocked hands to pull you closer to him. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“You suggested riding the uber with me,” you smile shyly, slightly moving your head to the side, giving him the space he wanted to pull you closer and nuzzle up against your neck. “Aren’t you being overprotective?”

“Is it a crime, now?” you get goosebumps when you feel him mumbling against your neck.

“It’s toxic,” you joke, taking your hands out of his grasp and raising your arms to place them around his neck. “You smell really good,” you whisper again and feel him taking a deep breath, before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Stay, please.”

Donghyuck may have not convinced you the first time he confessed because he had been too straightforward, too casual about it. He should have known better than that. Casual flirting and occasional dates weren’t enough to win you over. That’s why he lost the first battle. But when he wakes up in the middle of the night to turn his AC on because even though you’re both sweating, you don’t let him get out of your arms, he knows he’s one step closer to winning the war. 

The first thing you do when you open your eyes the following morning is wonder what time it is. You palm the side of the bed to look for your phone, only to feel a human arm. You open your eyes, recognizing Donghyuck’s room. He has one of his arms under your neck, the other one is lazily around your waist and his head nuzzled against your nape. You smile, dreading the moment he wakes up and starts teasing you for staying the night and sleeping on his bed holding him.

You consider calling out today, because you are almost sure that by the time you get there, everybody will be aware that you and Donghyuck cuddled all night long.

Carefully, you get out of bed and go straight to the kitchen to get a cup of water. You shouldn’t feel as comfortable at somebody else’s house as you are right now. When you were about to head back to Donghyuck’s room, Jeno entered the kitchen, with damp hair and wearing only gym shorts. The boy stops on his tracks and you two stare at each other, frozen.

“Hello?” The boy greets you with a frown and closed fists, and you give him an apologetic smile.

“Hey. Hi. Good morning.” You answer avoiding eye contact, completely mortified of the encounter. “I-I just- Hyuck told me-”

“Oh, you're with Hyuck?” he acknowledges, smiling at you. “I thought somebody had broken in.”

“Yeah, sorry. I thought he had let you know I was staying the night.” You apologize again, and suddenly feel self-aware of your outfit consisting of Donghyuck clothes. “I’ll go back-”

You hear a door opening and steps heading towards the kitchen, and, suddenly, Donghyuck appears. Swollen face, bed hair and shirtless… you feel like melting right there. 

“It’s not even 11 yet, why did you-” He looks at Jeno with his squint eyes and then back at you, only to gasp and slap his friend’s chest. “JENO? BE DECENT, GO PUT ON A SHIRT.”

“OUCH, THAT HURTS, ASSHAT!” The boy soothes the place where he was slapped, looking angrily at his friend. “You’re shirtless too!”

“I JUST WOKE UP!” He slaps his friend again, now getting in front of him to block your view. “HONEY, DON’T LOOK!”

“AND I WAS JOGGING?” Jenos slaps Donghyuck Back and you just laugh at how childish they look. “Oh, wait, honey?” He moves to the side to look at you again, but Donghyuck stays in his way. “Dude?”

“Stop moving around, she doesn’t need to see how ripped you are.” Donghyuck bites back and you chuckle. 

Jeno shoves Donghyuck to the side and waves at you. “Sorry, he’s very impolite and didn’t think about introducing us. I’m Jeno.” 

“SHIRT, JENO. SHIRT.” Donghyuck shouts, as he pushes his friend towards the hallway.

You stay there in the kitchen, holding your laugh, because of course you couldn’t have a nice and calm morning with Lee Donghyuck. 

“Hey. Hi. How are you?” Donghyuck comes back a few seconds later, panting. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah.” You nod, biting your lips to hold your laugh while Donghyuck just walks towards you very, very flustered. “Why are you shirtless? I clearly remember you going to sleep fully clothed.”

“Well, if only someone wasn’t holding me so damn tight the whole night…” He grabs you by the waist, making you yelp in surprise. “When did you wake up?” 

“Not long ago.” You answer as he nuzzles your neck and hums.

“What about Jeno?” He asks again, pressing you closer to him, making you involuntarily put your hands on his shoulder to keep your balance. “Did you stare at his ripped abs and toned arms for a long time or did he just get here?”

“You’re so annoying.” You cackle at his question, which only makes him hug you tighter. “Why? Are you jealous?” He tightens his hold on you even more, making you let out chuckles and whines “OUCH, you’re hurting me.”

“I’m holding you.” He answers, walking with you further down the kitchen. “I know the competition is strong, but, come on, I’m hot too, right?” He creates some space between you, just enough to look at you, pouting.

“Donghyuck,” you start and he hums, telling you to keep going. “Do you think you could set me up with Jeno?” You say mischievously, making him squint his eyes angrily at you. 

He pokes his cheek with his tongue and rolls his eyes at you. Before you can see it coming, he presses you against the kitchen counter and starts tickling your sides, making you squirm and beg him to stop, but having fun nonetheless. 

You can’t say you didn’t see it coming. After that night in Donghyuck’s house, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the butterflies in your stomach each time he did something for you. 

You really try to restrain yourself as much as possible, but there is so much a human being can resist when Lee Donghyuck comes out of nowhere and slides his hands from your nape down to your lower back and kisses your cheeks right after. Or when you’re sitting next to each other in the break room and he plays with your fingers under the table. Or when you’re eating out and he makes sure to keep your hair out of the way for you. Or when he takes Jeno’s car and picks you up late at night from your shifts, even when it’s his day off. Or when-

“Hey, pay attention,” Mina nudges you as Taeyong enters the room, followed by Doyoung, Yuta and a panting Donghyuck, who’s late.

“Sorry, I’m late, I had-”

“Just sit down, Hyuck.” You have never heard such a serious grave tone coming out of Taeyong's mouth before. “Please.”

You all look at each other worried about what is about to happen. When the words leave Taeyong’s mouth, you shouldn’t be as surprised as you all are, though. It’s still shocking, though. From the moment you started, you knew this job wouldn’t last. 

“You’re closing forever?” Jisung asks cautiously, making Yuta look at him fondly.

“Yeah, buddy. My parents decided to sell it.” Taeyong smiles apologetically at the three best friends. Chenle is frozen, staring at the managers with his mouth agape. “I know how Sunny’s Funfair is special for the three of you, I’m sorry, Lele, Ji, and Min. I wish I had something else to say, but I can only apologize for this news.”

“Don’t make a speech or else Jisung’s gonna cry.” Chenle tries to joke to lighten up the mood, but his friend only reacts by giving him a light tap on the shoulder.

“In the meantime, we will keep working.” Doyoung moves around the break room and hands us a sheet of paper. “Opening tasks, everybody! Let’s do our best during the time that’s left.”

You take a glance at Donghyuck who looks at you worriedly. You offer him a sad smile and shrug, which he mimics, making you smile wider. 

“Hey, you two, did you hear Doyoung?” Yuta points at you and Donghyuck. “Stop flirting, go back to work!” 

The gloomy vibes don’t go away for at least four days, when Taeyong appears with a cake and a box full of old pictures. The park was closed, but he asked us to stay, telling us it would be worth it and promising to give us a ride home. 

We are all seated around the table, eating cake, with taeyong in the middle seat showing us old pictures of the park. There were pictures of families, of former employees, and even of Taeyong and his family. You could see from the first day at the job how much he liked being Sunny’s Funfair Parks and Recreation. It was more than an old park that he had to manage because it’s what his parents told him to do. He actually believed that this small, beaten up amusement park could serve as a way of bringing happiness to the community and help families build cheerful memories together. But there is only so much one can do. You could see that this moment of bringing together the staff and encouraging us to share our best memories of the park is a way of giving Taeyong some comfort. 

You sigh, looking sadly at your boss as he rummages through the box of pictures and feel Donghyuck’s arm resting on your shoulder, slightly bringing you closer to his side.

“A penny for your thoughts?” He whispers in your ear and you just turn your head to look at him. Oh, you owed Sunny’s Funfair so much.

“Just thinking.” You lower your head to look at the piece of cake in front of you. “Taeyong did a great job.”

“Hey, you two lovebirds, stop flirting,” Taeyong says, quickly standing up. 

“When did I become the butt end of your teasing and not Jisung and Mina?” You ask no one in particular, but Chenle replies.

“Ever since you and Donghyuck started dating.”

“We are not-”

“I have THE ultimate picture here in my hands.” Taeyong interrupts you, as he holds one picture close to his chest, with the back facing us. There is something written behind it and you squint to try to read it, but he is too far from you. “This one here is our most prized possession as a team. We have to cherish this picture.”

“Show us this damn picture.” Chenle’s impatient demeanor falters when Taeyong turns the picture and we see three little children holding hands at the entrance of the park. “What the-”

“How did you get that picture?” Mina tries to take it from Taeyong, but fails.

“Is that us?” Jisung asks dumbfounded.

“There’s a note too.” Taeyong flips the picture and reads the note. “ ‘Today is the day where our Chenle is celebrating his sixth birthday. Thank you so much for the fun memories, Sunny!’ and it’s signed by Mrs. Zhong.” 

After their initial shock, you start analyzing the picture, looking at the details: the birthday hat on Chenle’s chubby face, Jisung’s missing teeth and Mina’s ice lolly that was melting in her hands as they were taking the pictures. Then, you see dozens of other pictures, all sent by Chenle’s mom with a note, thanking the staff for the happy memories they created with the children. Taeyong says that his mom was one of the people who used to send messages and pictures to the administration, back when the park was a little more lively. 

When you get home, almost ready to go to bed, you reflect on how that place has meant so much for some people, how it is full of memories and how it holds stories from the entire neighborhood. You think about how that was supposed to be only a job, and yet, it is the place that has brought amazing people to your life. You know Funfair’s closing is inevitable, but you finally understood what Taeyong was trying to do that night: closure. He doesn’t want to shut it down and just let everyone move on with their lives as if it didn’t matter, because, for many people, like Chenle, Jisung and Mina, it mattered. 

Sunny’s Funfair Parks and Recreation holds stories and you might not be able to save it, but you are ready to tell them.

“Shouldn’t you be looking for another job?” Donghyuck asks as he enters the parking lot. “I mean, I think it’s a nice idea, I really do. But…”

“I am looking, I just haven’t found anything yet.” You say, taking the parking ticket from his fingers and putting it inside your bag.

“I know you’re lying because you've been saying this for three weeks.” He parks the car and turns off the engine, but doesn’t open the doors. “Have you at least applied to anything?”

“Look,” you sigh and hold his face in your hands. “You don’t need to worry about me, I’ll figure it out.”

He sighs as he sees you unbuckling your belt and unlocking the door. “I hope you know you can’t be my trophy wife yet, I don’t have enough money to pay both of our bills.”

“To be your trophy wife, first and foremost, I need to be married to you.” You turn around to see him leaning on the car with the door open. “We’re not even dating yet.” 

“Because you rejected me when I asked you out.” He closes the car’s door and reaches for your hand.

“Ask me again, then.” You say raising an eyebrow at him.

“Will the answer be different?

“I don’t know. Ask me out again.” you shrug and interrupt him when you see Donghyuck opening his mouth. “Properly.”

“Damn.” He sighs and you chuckle at him. “Why me? The world is female, you can ask too, you know?”

You enter the building, telling Donghyuck to wait while you talk to the receptionist. A few minutes later, a very stressed Renjun appears to talk to you. From afar, Donghyuck can see that the boy seemed frustrated at whatever you were arguing, glaring at you and sighing a lot. He knows Renjun was forced by his parents to drop out of art school and start business so he could work in his family company, so the least he needed right now was a very stubborn you adding to his stress. 

At some point, he sees Renjun grabbing his phone from the inside pocket of his blazer and making a phone call. Donghyuck starts to think that it was better if you went to a more private place, but you seemed adamant about cornering Renjun in public. Not even two minutes later, he finishes the phone call and tells you something that makes you hug him and Donghyuck sees how his angry demeanor falters. You bid him goodbye and wave at Donghyuck so you can both go.

“What was that?” He asks as you hand him the parking ticket.

“I just needed one last favor from him.” You simply say, reaching for his hands.

“And that is…”

“You’ll see.”

It’s when you intertwine your fingers with Donghyuck and beams at him, that he knows he’s ready to confess again. 

You did promise that he would see. Well, not only Donghyuck but the whole student body as well. A week after that weird interaction with Renjun, there is an article about you in the school’s official website, first page. It was also mentioned on the school’s newsletter and official social media pages. It was not only an article about you, but about Chenle, Jisung, Mina, Taeyong… All of you at the Funfair. 

Donghyuck had to admit that when you told him your idea at first, he didn’t think you would go through with that. You wanted to tell the others the stories that the Funfair had seen throughout the years throughout an article and later, compile them in a book of memories, with pictures, messages, notes, stories about the place. He really didn’t think you would go through with that considering how much time and planning something like that takes, but, somehow, you did it.

It’s your last day. You spent the past month talking to people, curating pictures, writing, organizing schedules… you were tired, but it was all worth it. You wanted to let this old beaten up park tell the stories it held, even if it was gone. That’s why now, when the lights are already off and Taeyong is only waiting for you to come outside and lock the side door for one last time, you hand him a book with a small bow on top. You see, a little far from where you stand, your friends looking at each other confused, Yeri particularly impatient to go home.

“I want you to have this.” Taeyong looks at you confused. “It was a lot of work to get this done, especially because I’m not very artsy, but I think I owe you this one.”

He opens the book only to find, in a very neat handwriting, the words “Sunny’s memories” written. He looks between you and the book, slightly confused about what it is about, but when he flips the next page, he smiles. He finds a picture of him, Doyoung and Yuta taken many years ago. There were a few arrows connecting their faces to the words “boss”, “manager #1”, “manager #2”.

On the side, there was a small text about each one of them, how they ended up working there, what were their thoughts about the job and their favorite memory there. Every piece of information you gathered in these months working at the park was there, even some of the stories your boss has told you. Taeyong keeps flipping the pages, only to find more pictures of each one of you working there, your names, your thoughts, your memories, all written as if it was from Sunny’s perspective. He looks at you with watery eyes and pulls you to a hug.

“What it’s all this?” He sniffs.

“That day, when you showed us the pictures, I realized places hold stories and this one had many to tell.” You smile and he pats your head. “I know you didn’t want to close the park and let everybody move on as if it never mattered to anyone because it did. To some of us, at least. You did a great job, boss.”

“Oh, kid.” He sniffs and once again hugs you. “It’s perfect!” Taeyong said happily, taking you and his present towards the others. “Everybody, you need to see this!”

Now, after Sunny closed down, you are back to square one.

It’s a Friday night and you were invited to a party, but you managed to convince Donghyuck to stay at his apartment with you. You certainly needed a distraction after another week of failed attempts at getting a job and you know Donghyuck is much more entertaining than any party.

Your relationship status is still pretty much complicated. Even though it was already clear that you both liked each other, Donghyuck still hasn’t asked you the question, waiting for the right moment. It was really hard for him not to cross the friendship line, though, especially when, more often than not, he has make out sessions with you on his couch.

The worst for Donghyuck is how your friends have been keeping their promise of not meddling, but making sure of judging the both of you each time you deny you’re dating while Donghyuck’s hands are intertwined with yours. Tonight, with Jeno away at a party, you have his apartment all to yourselves and Donghyuck decides to make the most out of it. He needs to confess today. 

“Hi.” You smile, showing him the take out bag you’re carrying when he opens the door. Your smile falters when you see him frown. “Am I too early? I can-”

“I thought I was supposed to pick you up.” He pouts, moving to the side to let you go inside. “And you shouldn’t have brought take out, I told you I could cook for us.”

“Oh my god, I barely got here and you’re complaining already?” You put the take out on the kitchen counter and go wash your hands. 

“It’s just that you’re ruining my plans.” Donghyuck says while peeking inside the bag. “Is this…”

“Yeah, your favorite, kimchi-jjigae.” You turn around to look at him when you hear his groan. “What, now?”

“I had the whole thing planned, you just-” 

“Well, maybe you should have told me then!” You scoff. “I just wanted to make something nice for you because I know your new job at the office is killing you, but I’m sorry I guess?”

You start to feel frustrated at his reaction. You were expecting tight hugs, warm smiles and maybe some cuddles, but all Donghyuck has done in the past few minutes is complain and blame you for ruining something you didn’t even know that existed. He senses your frustration and sadness and just quietly holds your hand.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, not really looking at you. “It’s just that I really wanted to do something nice for you too.”

“You always do nice things for me. You’re too nice to me.” You say, turning around to grab bowls to pour the food in. “I got this one.”

Despite Donghyuck’s plan of picking you up, bringing you to his apartment, cooking your favorite food and confessing the words that he has been dying to say failed, he still needs to do it tonight. Well, after months of pining, it was now or never. If you reject him again, he needs to be ready to move on. 

“How’s the job?” You ask before taking a bite of your food.

“Hell.” He answers, groaning. “I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to study business. I hate that job.”

“Do you really hate the job or do you just hate the boss?” You raise an eyebrow, knowing fully well that Donghyuck doesn’t really hate what he does, he just can’t stand the presumptuous guys in his office, treating him like garbage just because he’s an intern.

“What about you?” He frowns when he sees you pouting at your food. “I don’t like this face.”

“Yeah, me neither.” You laugh humorlessly. 

“I told you, give me five years and you can be my trophy wife.” He jokes, knowing how much you hate the idea.

“Wow, five? That much?”

“I can compromise and make it three if you don’t want kids in the future.” You laugh at his words and try to kick his leg from under the table, but he traps you.

You keep moving between topics because it was just that easy to talk to him. You mentioned how you had seen Mina and Jisung at the campus the other day and Donghyuck points out how he thinks they’re going to get married before graduation. You disagree, Jisung is still a kid. Then, he mentions how he had often seen Chenle around his office, only to find out later that the company he worked at was his grandfather’s. After the Funfair closed, he started working at the family’s company, but Donghyuck says that they are in different departments. You asked about his family that you haven’t met yet, but always heard stories about, and he tells you everything about his younger brother’s record card and his middle sister’s new boyfriend. He doesn’t forget to mention Jeno’s friends with benefits situation, and that he only found out after finding lingerie lost in the washing machine. 

After dinner, Donghyuck suggests teaching you poker for the tenth time, which makes you slightly annoyed because, at this point, you just hate the game. You are both sitting on the floor and he is leaning his back on the couch while you are seated between his legs. He says the proximity is for “pedagogical purposes”.  

“No, honey,” He stops your movement by putting his arm around your body and pulling you closer to him. “Look at my cards! I’m showing you my cards!”

“I don’t know what your cards mean!” You groan as you throw your cards on the pile in front of you and lean your head on his shoulder. “I wanna play rummy.”

“It's a children's game.”

“Well, it’s the only one I know how to play!” you exclaim, easily convincing him with a kiss on his cheek. 

You realize playing games is not working very well because you shouldn’t see each other's cards, but that’s a very hard feature to achieve when you don’t want to move away from each other. Eventually, you also get tired of Donghyuck constantly cheating and just suggest that you watch a movie instead.

“Should we watch Monsters University?” you ask, leaning your head on his shoulder and he nods.

“Let’s go, Mike Wazowski!” 

You move to the couch, complaining about being too uncomfortable for your butt, and at the end of the movie, you are both sprawled on his couch, with a blanket over you and your legs tangled. You see his eyes closed and smile at how tired he must be, but still chose to spend the night with you. He is close enough for you to nuzzle against his neck, making him stir at the sudden contact. You don’t smell his cologne, but the faint smell of your favorite lavender soap is there, making you smile against his neck. 

“A penny for your thoughts?” He asks, running his hands from your nape down your spine. 

“You owe me so many pennies.” You joke and he smiles. “I’m just thinking that I’m happy.”

Things didn’t happen the way you wanted from the beginning. You still feel like your life is a mess and sometimes you really think it will be the end soon. But you don't need to think that you’re alone anymore. Not when you have your friends. Not when you have him. 

“I’m happy too.” He hums and a comfortable silence rests between you, the only sound is the music from the movie credits on the TV. 

You think you are about to drift off to sleep, when Donghyuck stops his hands on the middle of your back and, because you're still nuzzled around his neck, you feel his pulse quickening. You hear him gulp a feel times before he has the courage to speak.

“There’s something that would make me happier.” He cautiously changes your positions, so he can face you when whispering the question he has been dying to ask and you have been dying to hear. “Do you wanna date me?”

“Do you know how impossible it is to say ‘no’ to you?” You kiss his cheek and he closes his eyes, feeling relieved already. “It’s especially unfair when you keep me so close like this.” 

When you close the gap between you, holding his face tenderly and giving him the sweetest kiss he has ever tasted, he knows he has won. He definitely has. He moves, making you lie down under him, and as he kisses your neck, he says: 

“All is fair in love and war, honey.”

Donghyuck has always tried to communicate with Jeno not only because they are childhood friends and roommates but because they also need privacy. Everybody does. So when Donghyuck tells his friend that he will be away for two days because of a conference, Jeno understands that he will have the apartment all to himself. 

What Donghyuck doesn’t expect is to get an email as soon as he arrives at the airport telling him that the conference was canceled and he should head back to the office. He gets so mad that nothing would make him more happy than just killing his boss. He shouldn’t though, because he had promised to make you his trophy wife in five years, so he needs to get a promotion soon. He smiles, thinking of you, and decides to pick you up today.

Even after months of dating, he was still pretty much elated to say that he could pick up his girlfriend at work. His girlfriend. As soon as he pulls up in front of the office’s building, you send him a message.

[mike wasowski - 5:35 p.m] are you here already?

[donghyuck - 5:35 p.m] just got here babe.

[donghyuck - 5:35 p.m] ready?

[mike wasowski - 5:36 p.m] can you give me 15 more minutes?

[donghyuck - 5:36 p.m] i’ll be in the parking lot.

He smiles as he sees you exiting the building wearing a scowl. Oh, he was so ready for your work gossip. Your scrunched up face doesn’t last long, because you can’t help but smile when you see him waving at you. You run to him, hugging him tightly and kissing his lips tenderly, which is his favorite part.

“Hi, girlfriend.” He steals one more kiss from you, making you smile. 

“Hi, boyfriend.” You smile, pushing him away from you and opening the car’s door. “Let’s go, I need to tell you what that bitch made me do today.”

That's how you spend the whole drive to his apartment, complaining about one of the managers that keeps making redo things, only to say that you’re slacking off and never get things done. ‘I could get things done if she didn’t keep asking me to solve problems that don’t even exist’, you would always say. He let you vent your pent up anger, so he would do the same about his coworkers.

You had finally found a job at a publishing house, a small one, and it wasn’t exactly the experience as a journalist that you wanted to have, but learning about publishing and editing is surely something positive and way more useful than working at a café like you used to. When life closes a door, it opens a window. 

And your boyfriend is very proud of you not only for taking his advice and applying for your current job, but also for admitting that he is very smart. Donghyuck is smart in a lot of areas, it’s just that when it comes to you, he gets a little stupid. That’s why you get to his apartment and see something both of you shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t.

“WHAT THE FUCK, JENO?” Donghyuck screams and you run to the kitchen, thinking something bad happened. “NO BABE, DON’T COME, CLOSE YOUR EYES!” He puts his hands on your face before you can even understand what’s going on.

“WHAT THE FUCK, DONGHYUCK? YOU TOLD ME YOU’D BE AWAY FOR TWO DAYS.” Jeno screams back, hurriedly looking for his shirt to cover himself. 

“I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WOULD BE BALLS DEEP INSIDE SOMEONE ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER!” You fight him, trying to take his hands off your face, but Donghyuck is faster than you. “Don’t try to look, what are you trying to look at?” 

“Jeno, I-” The girl sitting on the counter looks mortified.

“I’m not trying to see anything, I’m trying to set free because you’re crushing my skull.” You keep moving, trying to fight him while Jeno and the girl are putting their clothes on.

“I know you’re tryna see Jeno naked. I’m your boyfriend, the only dick you’re allowed to see is mine.”  He keeps his hand pressed against your eyes making you whine even more.

“Stop being a freak! You’re just pressing my eyes too aggressively.” You reach forward, trying to find his face. “And what about you? Uh? Are you trying to see Jeno’s girlfriend naked? I’m the only one you’re allowed to see naked.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” “She’s not my girlfriend.” Both of them say at the same time, looking at each other sheepishly, while you and Donghyuck keep bickering at the kitchen's door.

“IF I CAN'T SEE JENO’S DICK, YOU CAN’T SEE HIS GIRLFRIENDS BOOBS!” You say, accidentally slapping his face as you try to cover his eyes as well.

“Are you SLAPPING me because I won’t let you see JENO’S DICK?” Donghyuck complains.

“I SLAPPED YOU BECAUSE I CAN’T SEE SHIT, YOU MOTHERFUC-” 

He cuts you off by kissing your lips and pushing you to the hallway, warning the ones left behind: “JUST CLEAN EVERYTHING WHEN YOU’RE DONE!”

Donghyuck thinks that the first step before turning you into his trophy wife is buying his own place.

[yojeongin]

this night has opened my eyes | j.jh

→sister’s fiancé!jaehyun x f!reader

genre: smut, angst, close proximity attraction, forbidden affairs, 80s au, and familial relationships study

synopsis: grief hits everyone differently, especially when so close to a major "once in a lifetime" event. you try to not judge everyone's character but how can you not when emotions are conflicting and it doesn't help that your sister's fiancé is the only one helping you cope.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! generational trauma, mentions of child emotional neglect, grief, cheating, smoking, alcohol consumption, emotional repression (minor memory loss), some fingering, semi-handjob, unprotected and rough sex, creampie, jaehyun a lil ooc, somewhat one-sided, lack of chemistry (their lonelyness tries to say otherwise), this one is for the eldest daughters with mommy issues

wc: 21.1k+ || anthology masterlist || soundtrack || ao3

© 2025 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other platforms. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.

an: well I lied about posting last week. I'm fond of lying and worst scenario did happen and I'm posting in may. anyways, tried hard to make them lack chemistry so you guys tell me how that turned out.

This is your punishment. It must be. Why is it that when you’re finally at ease with life, something has to ruin your stable comfort? You swore you wouldn't come back to this town unless a major celebration or an emergency would occur. Unfortunately, it so happens that both had transpired at the same time. In the worst way possible.

A year and a half ago your sister had met someone. It only took nine months of being together for them to get engaged and your entire family knew besides you. Chances are you would have remained in the dark even after the event if the pyramid schemer of your cousin hadn't called you about the possibility of lending her money to pay for the items she was supposed to sell. 

Merciless enough and with no regard for your sister, she spilled it all to you along with ridicule laced in each word. Reveling and laughing at the theory of your sister possibly being pregnant. Interlaced jealousy for obtaining a “great catch”.

You don't entertain it, humming with faux excitement despite dreading the fact that you're now expected to send a letter to your sister letting her know how happy you are for her. Whether you truly were or didn't care, did not matter. You expected nothing out of it, nothing was supposed to happen after all, per usual. It was all courtesy. 

Silence from your sister was always a better reward than having her talk your ear off about anything she was fairly interested in. The matter becomes worse knowing she dreaded talking to you overall, therefore it was a waste of time for you both.

Unfortunately, days later you received a phone call where she, in fact, talked your ear off about the guy she was engaged to and what she had in mind for her celebration. It’s not like she was having fun telling you about it, she didn’t plan for you to find out to begin with. But again, it was all courtesy. Hoping that this would make you feel included enough to send her a gift without invitation.

The call extended for longer despite the long periods of silence on both ends. She had waited and waited, with no signs of you asking what she wanted, leading her to hang up feigning a dinner with her fiance. Truth is she scoffed rolling her eyes and petulantly stomping around knowing she would have to invite you now if she wanted a gift.

Two months later a wedding invitation was sent to your apartment. Reading over the script typeface with all of its coiled swashes, embossed flowers, and the underlying inked words that scream at you to not go, to not entertain this and just send the damn gift. Courtesy, it's all about courtesy.

You didn’t hear from any of your family members again after receiving that piece of cardstock. Not until a week before the wedding day. Merciless Friday. By Friday, life has killed you.

You had planned on leaving a day before the date. You were in no rush to visit anyone in that town nor did you plan to stay long after the ceremony. Like a business trip, that’s what you were treating it as.

Simply, your plan was to get a round trip ticket. The departing flight back home after the ceremony, possibly at the middle of it, or worst case scenario: the following morning. All to avoid being berated by your mother or aunts; with no plan to overstay your visit.

That was the plan, yet again the universe was so humorous that when you picked up the phone to hear your father talk to you casually with long gaps in between his words, you knew something was awfully wrong. He didn’t specify the reason for his call nor did he give you much information about how his fig tree wasn’t looking too good and most likely would not make it for fig season. 

It was quick and brief, that should have been telling. Your mother would have called you selfish for not noticing the small things but those words were customary for her so you didn’t take them to heart. You haven’t in years, you would like to think. 

Now you look at those same trees, nodding to yourself about how correct he was. Branches too frail and crackly, snapping with a swipe of a finger. They used to be so strong, even in these winter temperatures with biting and prickling coldness. The one your mother often caused within you and now it’s odd knowing that’s what she must have felt last night. 

It’s strange to come back and notice the state of the weather. A town usually disgustingly humid, scaldingly hot, and sunny was now replicating your current city. Gloomy and rainy, the humidity never leaves but the disgust clings to the feeling in your chest as cousins, uncles, and aunts rush out of your childhood home with box sets of silverware, easy and light furniture, and china that had not been locked away. 

A cheery smile on their faces, patting you as a welcome while stuffing their rickety cars with your parents’ belongings. You don’t question it, you always expected this from them. The best you can do now, is close the door in their faces when the youngest of your cousins walks out with your father’s broken Atari in his grimy hands.

So young and already so rotten.

It’s not the fact that they are taking the things, it’s more so that none of them bothered to let you know your mother had died Friday morning or looked to be mourning. Or how she had been battling a nasty infection due to the thorns in her rose bushes. How rapidly the fungus had consumed her cells.

The house is eerie and cold; silence was never this stiff. Biting and dull, but never static. The large portraits of your mother scattered around the walls feeling more patronizing than ever before. You can already imagine what she must be thinking about you all the way from purgatory. “Typical, you could not even bother to show before my last breaths.” A scoff, turning up her nose with a shake of her head to avoid looking at you. 

Disgust, disgust, disgust.

It doesn’t take long to find your father in their shared bedroom. Sitting idly on the edge of the bed looking out the window. A usual position, now enveloped with grief and despair. Not his ordinary nonchalance and comfort. He was a shell of a man from when you last saw him. Then again, that was two years ago for their silver anniversary where your mother scolded you for not helping or for not doing things the way she wanted them.

You remember clearly ending that night in the train station with your suitcase. Your father dropping you off while affirming that they loved you despite all your mother had spewed the entire visit. You both smiled fondly before hugging and patting each other’s cheeks. He knew you well enough to leave before your train arrived, giving you a breather and letting out all your grievances, leaving them here and not taking them back home. 

“Hey…” Your meek voice causes his hand to twitch, not turning to look at you. “How are you holding up?” You question, hand sliding down his shoulder to rub comfortingly. You feel his chest rumble, your fingers thrumming against his wool sweater. “I told you the fig tree was not going to hold on until spring.” He answers slowly, eyeing how the branches snapped with the breeze.

“You did.”

Silence befalls, it’s uncomfortable yet comfortable. The contradiction makes it far more confusing on your end. You’re not too sure how he feels. Perhaps you should say something, something stupid or mundane but something. These days you're far more unaware of what to do or think. 

“Hey, dad?” “Hey, dad!”

There’s a clear difference in the way those words are uttered. In the way the voices sound and how they roll off each other’s tongues but ultimately both of you turn towards the door, seeing your sister stand with a cheery smile – a tad duller when her eyes fall on you. The most she gives you besides a hum, unphased by your presence. 

“The morgue is on the line.” She utters, chin turning to point towards the phone on your mother’s nightstand. Your father makes no effort to answer, leaving it to both of you to decide. Ultimately, you reach for the device, the cold plastic uncomfortable against your ear. 

“Hello?” “With the family of Mrs. Y/l/n?” “Yes…”

Taken aback by your lack of warmth, the mortuary technician hums, “We wanted to inform you that we got results back from the police station and after the autopsy, Mrs. Y/l/n is ready to be transferred to the services you’ve chosen. Since she is an identified body, we can only keep her for a week at best. She does have to be transferred for burial or a different mortuary by the time frame.” 

Confused, you turn to your father. His lack of response makes you turn to your sister who looks at you like you’re crazy for whatever you haven’t told them. “What?— I thought you guys handled funeral services as well?” You answer, clutching the hard plastic in your hand.

“Unfortunately, no. Not yet at least, but there are multiple funeral homes around the area that you can contact and we can transfer the body to them for the burial or their own morgue. It just has to be before the week ends. Fortunately, it’s a busy season– Unfortunately, I mean! Sorry… We will need the space.” Catching his mistake he laughs nervously, pulling the last remaining hair strand on his balding head.

“Give me a second.” You grumble, your mother’s lipstick still plastered against the bottom half of the phone. “Have you looked into funeral home services?” You whisper, looking at your standing sister who shakes her head vigorously. There’s no way your father had the will to do so and you don’t ask him but the gnawing feeling of the lack of organization is eating at you already.

With a sigh you pick up the phone from your lap, taking your time to answer. “We don’t yet have a plan… Is there no way we can get more time?” You almost beg, was it not for his disinterested whiny voice while twirling the spiral cord around his finger. “Yeah, no… That’s quite unfortunate, yeah.” He hums, patronizing. It irritates you beyond belief. To the point where you hang up before even giving him a definitive answer.

“A week! That’s all we get to find any funeral services or she’ll get tossed out like a butchery carcass!” You’re not sure if you’re more irritated from the call, your sister’s nonchalance, or the fact that you care more than you allowed yourself on the flight back.

"A week?!" Your sister screeches, "My wedding is a week! We can't possibly do that!" Her hands come to her head, distress covering her face like a wedding being pushed back would be the bigger tragedy out of this. Your slow turn of head and slotting eyes don't phase her but your words do irk her.

"Mom just died and you're more worried about a wedding?...”

 "It's not that! It's just that— the wedding is already planned. Mom's funeral isn't, we don't have anything to look for and especially in this short amount of time." She covers up, nodding like it was the best excuse she has ever come with. Was it not for your father's voice catching both of your attention and his slow monotone tone, you would have finally slapped the sense into her that you should've done years ago if allowed.

"Your mother began saving up for this, months ago. I don't think it's much but we will find out when her lawyer arrives tomorrow to read her will." He pauses, "We will make do." He concludes with a nod to himself.

It's not enough for you. That goes to say there's virtually nothing when funerals cost an arm and a leg. You don't even know how much her payment plan was so what gave you the reassurance that you could do anything with that. No, you had to think for the three of you. Like — fucking — usual.

"Aren't you paying for the wedding too?" You turn to him. He nods, "We will make do."

No. No, it's not that simple.

"Your wedding is in a week, there's no reason for you to spend anymore. How about we cut that off already and you can help with the funeral preparations." You speak sternly to your sister. That desperation and anger lacing every single one of your words.

"What?! No, you can't just cut me off! I still have to pay the catering and flower vendors. That doesn't go into action until Tuesday." It's crazy to see how maniac she became in an instant. Her hair disheveled the further her fingers threaded through it. "You can't have me present my guests beautiful decor just to serve their food on paper plates, can you? That's tacky!" She groans, petulantly turning to your father for back up.

"We will make do."

Are you satisfied? No, but you're exhausted and quite honestly jet lagged. This has been enough interacting with your sister and your father's enabling that you decide to throw the towel and shake your head.

"Fine. But you'll have to help me with the funeral services and finding an adequate funeral home."

She's pushed her luck already, and she knows it. "Fine."

It should have been an obvious sign that normal days were left behind when you arrived. What used to be quaint mornings in this town were now loud and obnoxious. Things were different in a sense that you had not expected. The blaring of a nightstand alarm transformed into an irritating screech of the fire alarm calling your name over and over to turn it off. Bike bells from the paperboy calling for the daily paper were now incessant honks tattle-telling on the neighborhood boys that kicked balls at whatever car was left outside the garage.

Whether your body wanted it or not, you pushed off the mattress that was once your safe haven. Now it was hard as rock and the cause of your aching muscles that wept with every step down the stairs. Your mother’s penetrative glare through all those portraits adding onto your pain. 

Upon hearing your steps, your father turns with a blank look on his face but an apology in his eyes. You let out a sigh and a reassuring smile on your lips, turning off the stove and moving the pan away. “I burnt the eggs.” He utters monotonously, each word spoken with every step you take towards the fire alarm. “A coward egg. Preferring to burn than to be eaten. It’s okay, the next one will be brave.” You think you can see a smile on his face although blocked by the fabric of your pajamas and sprawled hair. 

“Those damn kids, running around the street when cars are leaving for church.” Your sister had interrupted any sense of tranquility (if any) with complaints. Her eyebrows furrowed and a frown on her face that becomes teasing when she sees you on a chair, mangling the fire alarm. 

It’s mocking you think, the way she looks at you. “What did you do? You’ve only been here for a few hours.” And your glare gives her the response she was looking for. Receiving you with a teasing scoff, almost turned into a giggle while she swivels towards your dad, kissing his cheek good morning. 

“Geez, relax. I was just kidding.” She huffs, “Look who woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Usually comments as such warranted extensive berating from her and  your mother. Your aunts if they were visiting but now it’s just you two and your dad. Your catatonic dad that can only give her the same blank look and words he’s given you: “I burnt the eggs.”

She kisses his head, smiles reassuringly, reaching for the pan to toss out the now cold eggs. “It’s okay, I’ll make you some.” It’s similar enough, you’re sisters after all. 

You manage to silence the fire alarm, bringing tranquility for a second before three rhythmic knocks are heard at the front door. Your sister and you share a glance, questioning with an indication for you to open the door. It’s something menial that you won’t fight her over, rather you just do it to let the starch pressed suit wearing lawyer inside the house. 

He’s roughly a head taller than you, lankier and awkward but in a way that makes him seem snooty. He gives you a glance and a muted greeting smile. He attempts to share some pleasantries but you don’t let him, leading him to the living room where the other two had gathered already. Eggs and stove long forgotten. 

“Good morning,” he utters, “Only you three will join us?” He asks, fingers threading through the cuff links of his suit. They’re rusted, staining his dress shirt with every move. He knows it and hates that others do too but he can’t be bothered to change them. Rather they’re his only ones. 

“Yes, morning.” You answer with a nod, sitting besides him. “Right.” He mutters, clearing his throat, fumbling to open his briefcase. “I’ve brought copies for you all and given the quantity, I consider it best we get straight to it, yes?” The lawyer — who you later learned his name was Mr. Chop, called pork chop by your sister whenever he said something she didn’t like — handed you each a thin packet. Swivel designs on each corner, customary of your mother who most likely brought in her own paper for him to print on whenever the time came. She probably did not expect it to be this early. 

Your father makes no effort to touch it, your sister only flips through it, but you focus on every word and the tone everything is dictated in. Mr. Chop reads in a lousy voice that he’s forced to sound vigorous but his constant voice cracks give out his experience. Not that much.

“For my dear husband,” He fixes the stiff paper under his fingers. “You will find yourself flooded by life insurances all to your name. Enjoy them while you remain, it is your call what you do when you think your time will come.” Mr. Chop clears his throat, turning to you before continuing. “As long as you’re wise if you dare leave anything to Y/n…” 

Typical. It doesn’t make it any less frustrating.

“To my youngest daughter, you’ve always loved the eccentricity of your mother and grandmother. For that, I leave you our jewelry. I know you will do the right thing when it comes to these and you will take good care as I have all these years.” 

You could swear your mother’s doting voice projected through his weak mouth. Sweet when looking at your sister but patronizing and mocking when he turned to you. Just the way the old hag intended. 

Take that back, pinch yourself under the thigh for thinking of your mother as an old hag. No matter how much she’s impacted you, remorse and guilt will always flood you when it comes to her. 

Fuck. 

“Lastly, Y/n. Consider yourself lucky for this letter and your grandmother’s cookbook. Lord knows you could benefit from it. I will not offer you more for you know what you’ve done and you shall live with that your entire life.” 

The paper doesn’t feel heavy under your fingertips. It’s light, translucent, and from the sunlight peeking through the sliding doors leading to the backyard, you can see she did not write much. 

“What about the funeral plan she began? How much is there?” 

Mr. Chop knows there’s urgency in your voice. Desperation and frustration etching themselves across your face while he takes his time to flip through some papers he had not yet taken out. “Yes… it seems your mother did not begin this plan until three months ago that leaves with only—“ he hums, holding his tongue to not sigh and give more pity remarks than he’s already given. “$169 to be exact, not discounting taxes depending on the company. Some funeral plans tend to take out taxes when the money is put to use.” He drops his professional act momentarily to look at you. 

“These insurances… they can cover it, surely. Yes?” It’s the first time your father spoke since the lawyer arrived. Grievance written all over his face, in the way his eyebrows knit like a begging hungry child. His fingers twitch, itching to look for answers in the packet but hold back. As if touching the decorative paper ought to burn his fingers.

Mr. Chop hums for an exaggerated amount, head tilting to ultimately click his tongue. His pen hits his forehead, leaving a tiny blob of ink that you fixate on. “Well, yes… the thing is that insurances take a month to three after the claim. Unfortunately — for some reason — February is high in mortality and it’s going to take longer than that to hear back from the insurance companies.” 

It’s a dead end. A dead end and it seems only your father and you feel the weight of your mother’s body crushing the both. It’s typically you whose hands were freezing cold but now they’re warm against your father’s. Taking them in a tight and reassuring grip, forcing belief into both. He glances at you, apologies flooding his eyes and threatening to escape his lips. Those that you shut with a smile and another squeeze.

“We will make do.” And now you’re fully convinced that he’s smiling. Believing you with no proof or witness, just the fatherly love and remnants of hope he has. He squeezes your hands in return, a sign of compliance.

Mr. Chop doesn’t extend his invite. As soon as it’s settled he makes his exit, leaving the three of you to wonder what should be done. Your father reverted to small talk, managing to nod at some questions and stare blankly at others. That left you and your sister to make calls to funeral homes all day. Alternating between landlines while one of you wrote, analyzed, and organized the price points and deals. All flukes and robberies. 

To say frustration wasn’t getting the best of you was an understatement. How is it that death is perceived as an eternal slumber where you feel no more, yet it leaves those behind you in perpetual suffering. 

Your father won’t explain what he feels but everyone can read it in the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. You’re not too sure how you feel besides uncertainty that makes you scribble harshly against the notepad. Eraser shavings get between the lead and paper, forcing large gaps between words. It bothers you enough to rewrite the words just for another piece to be erased. A cycle that you know you should end but the bubbling ache in your chest makes you continue your angry scribbles until you touch the fresh page underneath.

Faith lets it survive for longer. Intervening through an ecstatic screech that leaves your sister. It gives you hope, seeing her stomp around in a happy dance. Telephone cord wrapping around her body the way her fiance will do in a few days to come. She’s so happy. Your mother is dead, your father is bordering on joining her and your sister is happy. 

“Found a funeral service?” Your voice breaks her out of it. Her wide smile, not flattering as she turns to look at you with faux confusion. That stupid midline diastema was growing but it made her look far more charming than before. Her giggle doesn’t help and for a second you think she’s that same little girl that would pity you when mother scolded for her wrong doings before she joined in on the mockery. 

“What? No!” She unravels the cord, some of it stuck against the buttons of her overalls. “The caterer called back and said they could work with the budget you're forcing me into! I can make this wedding work, Y/n!” If she was to ever touch you it would leave a reminder of her disdain and faux affection. This one, she’s genuinely happy and with no intention to mock you but even when she doesn’t want to, she manages to plague you with that poison your mother created and taught her to inject into you. 

She jumps around, holding your hands with no intention to seize her excited giggles. How can someone be so happy in times like these? Is this what being full of love creates?

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” The words leave your mouth in waves. Lips quiver with every letter and your hold on her hands turn crushing. Her eyebrows furrow, pulling away like a child that’s been zapped with prank gum. She scowls at the ruined moment, “Have you seriously been working on your wedding all this time?!” 

“No…” A scolded child answers, tucking her hands in the denim pockets. “I was making calls too, I just… took a break to answer the caterer.” she murmurs, swinging her body the way she does when consequences attempt to reach her.

“A break… We can’t take fucking breaks, sissy! We have to find a funeral home now or else who knows where mom will end up!” You don’t try to sound so angry or sad. The whine and fire in your voice will betray you the way it always does. “We can’t afford them if you're too fucking worried about your stupid wedding!” 

“Stupid?! Mom was looking forward to it! You would know if you checked in often and didn’t think you’re too good for us! Doesn't your job pay you well? You could possibly pay for this by yourself and leave dad alone.” A leach and a burden is what they’ll always see you as. It’s obvious through the gaps of invisible words she doesn’t spew. 

Despite the scratch created over your soul, you’ve only ever known to cover it with electric tape. It’s sticky and temporary, leaves a disgusting residue if you ever try to remove it but that doesn’t come until you’re ready to fix it. Which you won't, you never do. You never will.

“I am going to pay for it at this rate because you are more worried about a wedding with a guy you met not even a year ago and God trust no one believes it will last.” Condescension and it’s not yet Wednesday. It’s spilled in the same tone she utilizes with you, the difference is she’s never been strong enough to reap what she sews.

There’s fire in her eyes. The same fire she looked at your mother the few times she was reprimanded. The kind that tells you she loathes you with her entire soul and wants nothing but the worst for you. It translates perfectly through her words, ones that make you forget she’s the town sweetheart. 

“You know what your problem is, Y/n? That I’ve always been able to find someone and you haven’t. You’re lonely. A lonely, bitter spinstress. Bitter overall and that’s how you’ll end if you keep acting like this. Mom was right about you. She always has been.” She gives you no time to rebuttal with your own venom. Taking her belongings and slamming the kitchen door behind her while the words ‘naive’ and ‘dumb-fuck’ flood your brain knowing they’re far less offensive than bitter and lonely.

Without trying to dwell, you exit the kitchen as well. Rolling your eyes with a huff as the scene replays. Your mother is gone, there’s no reason for you to hold your tongue, doing that for years has stunted your ability to defend yourself. Your little sister will always have the upper hand the longer you keep your mother’s image etched inside your brain. 

She has no power over you. Not anymore. Free yourself. Try…

You can’t, you probably won’t. Because behind your disappointed father that sits on the steps of the stairs, your mother’s portrait bores holes into you. Engraving every word your sister spat out with far more volition.

Monday: Humiliation

Maybe you were brash with your outburst yesterday. Perhaps you could have handled the discontent better but the longer the argument plays in your head the more and more you think there’s no way you’re going to apologize to your sister for that. Not even when said argument led to you making your way to the first funeral home by foot because she refused to pick up the phone. 

You couldn’t ask your father to drive you there nor were you going to ask anyone else in your family. Those leeches had only made an effort to contact you to ask for more things they could take and when turned down they’d drop their sugar bowls and act as sour as you remember them. It’s laughable. How high and mighty they act but turn into grimy beggars attempting to slither their way into the home for more and more things to steal.

It’s happened a handful of times since your arrival. All ending with you slamming the door in their faces and them calling you the same names your mother used to. Disguising their visit as a form to check on your father without waiting for him to come down the stairs before acting like debt collectors. By now he knows not to come down, he’s always left panting and huffing on the last step when they leave. 

There’s been a few times they’ve been able to fool you. Their appreciation for taking over the funeral plans soothing your soul and causing you to release a content sigh, all to come crumbling when they mention how this was a nice gift for your sister. 

“So kind of you to take this off your sister’s hands. She’s already stressed enough with the wedding, you’re truly an angel, Y/n.” It’s so cut throat, fictitious, and treated like a burden. Each word pierces your jugular and is brought down to your chest, carving a cross over your skin. “God bless you.” The concluding words to whatever game they want to play at. 

“God bless you.”

A laugh leaves your mouth, covering it with your gloved hand as your head shakes. Oh, Y/n… What can you expect from your family? All so selfish and conceited. Spoiled and rotten. Rotten to the core.

The headphones on the Walkman threaten you to stop moving so much, inching closer to snapping off your head and leave you with the sound of cars driving past. Some, confused on why you would walk in this weather and lack of sidewalks. There’s no time to explain that your sister and family are petty. Enough to not take care of your father while you’re gone and the only person you trust to look after him is the neighbor, Mrs. Mimi and her dog Rek. At least with them you know your father’s belongings won’t be gone within minutes. 

Usually you’re not against walking to places. It’s the only thing you can do back in the city where everything is within walking distance and at least the view is pretty. As pretty as skyscrapers and tourists are but it’s better than cracked pavement, rickety old homes with old men sitting on the porch nearly naked despite the freezing temperatures, and roadkill almost every day. Anyhow, you hate to admit that you’d rather see this than the horrendous interior design of this first funeral home.

You can blame the lighting and the textures of every surface. Despite this, nothing justifies how horrendous acid yellow carpeting and neon purple wood paneling look together. Obnoxious in the way that forces your brain to transmit the message of hurling your guts out and nothing would show on the carpet. Perhaps it’s happened before according to the stench — discarding the cadavers below ground.

“Shit show.” You huff under your breath, taking out a notepad from your purse. 

“What was that?” It comes out friendly, playful despite the chill it forces all over your body. Swiveling on your heel to turn to two men emerging from the backroom. They smile acknowledging your presence but don’t press the matter. “Sorry, how may I help you?” The shorter one smiles. It’s scarily similar to Pee-wee Herman’s, far more disturbing. You chalk it up to his growing bald spot, making him look like an aging uncle despite most likely being around your age.

“Hello…” Nervously, your hand waves. “I’m Y/n, I called yesterday about funeral plans.” His ankles click with each other, knees straightening up as his face lights up comically. As if a light bulb actually lit before his eyes. “Right! Ms. Y/l/n, I was just showing Mr. Jung what the plan consists of. Would you want to see it too or do I leave you two to discuss it?” His ominous and strained smile returns, blinking too fast for his own liking and it makes him look frightening but perhaps that uneasiness is what keeps the place in business. 

He doesn’t seem to catch onto your confusion on why you’d talk with the taller stranger beside him. In comparison to the funeral director, the other man is relaxed. His hands remain inside his wool coat, dark as his hair that makes his skin seem brighter. He was a little too pale for this area, even in the winter the sun shines bright. 

You’re within seconds of concluding that he’s an attendant until he speaks up, hands coming out of the coat pockets. “Mr. Holmes, would you mind giving Ms. Y/l/n and I, a minute alone to discuss?” And that only manages to furrow your eyebrows further to the point your eyes may be bulging out. You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions. Your mother made sure to take full advantage of that.

The funeral director isn’t told twice. Leaving a packet with the stranger that thanks him before releasing a heavy sigh and rocking in his heels as his eyes mimic yours. He shakes his head, making an odd expression with his mouth that tells you something you know already.

“Shit show.”

And it bothers you how easy it was for him to knock down your defensiveness to snicker along with him. 

When both seem to calm down, he clears his throat, extending his hand for you to shake. Skeptically you take it, never removing your gloves and clutching the pen in your other hand. “Y/n…” He smiles fondly, his other hand coming to clutch yours as well. It feels odd and it confuses you, enough to bubble up an upset.

“Y/n Y/l/n, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” An airy chuckle of finality escapes him, his head dips as he smiles widely like you’ve known each other for ages while the only thing that crosses your mind is: “Who the fuck is this guy?” It’s obvious in the way you’re giving him that same reserved look from seconds ago. One he chalks up to the distance and he shakes his head to relax.

“From your AP world history and APUSH classes… Remember me?” His voice lilts, eyebrow twitching as he recalls. You truly don’t know what he’s talking about and while his expressions are soft, yours are in perpetual incertitude. “Well, we went to the same middle and high school but- I don’t know, I thought high school would be easier for you to recall. You remember me, right?” 

His tone doesn’t falter, he’s still as joyous as you’ve first heard him. He’s trying his darn best but if you’re being honest to yourself, you have no idea who this man is. Your body betrays you though, faux laugh escaping your lips as you nod. “Yeah! Yeah… AP Biology, right?” Your eyebrows don’t unknit and there is when he begins to question himself. He hums but shakes his head despite his smile slowly falling. 

“No, no… We only had the same AP humanities classes.” “Ah… Yeah, APUSH.”

It’s difficult to understand how easily discomfort settles.

“Victor Asuel, right?” While you smile, he replicates it uncomfortably. “The one that got a perm and had to go bald when it burnt the scalp, yeah?” Jaehyun joins you in an uneasy laugh, shaking his head to awkwardly correct you. “No, Jaehyun. Jung. I sat next to you in world history and well… APUSH.” He chuckles uncomfortably, his hands finally leaving yours to shove them in his coat pockets. Hurt, you’re aware of that.

“Sorry…” It’s a dead end you don’t think you’re able to get out of. Charismatic as he is, he smiles shaking his head. “Forget about it, it’s fine. It’s been a while, yeah.” He nods, looking at your face to memorize all expressions. “It’s been over ten years anyways.” 

Jaehyun sucks in his teeth, sighing afterwards. “I’m also your sister's fiance if that helps.” It’s muted and less exciting than the original topic. It doesn’t help, you had no care of who she was marrying if you’re being sincere but at least you know there’s another reason for him to talk to you. 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Thoughts on the plan?” This time you try to break the silence. “Shit show.” He repeats, shaking his head with that same nice smile of his. He’s comfortable and that’s good enough for you. “On three we run out?” You suggest and that smile widens showing his pearly whites. The likes, emphasizing the lines around his nose, the type that tells you he’s smiling genuinely hard. 

“Now!” His hand takes a hold of your arm pulling you out of the funeral home while the entrance bell blares for the funeral director that you’re running out without sealing the deal. Mr. Holmes must have smelt the rejection from down the mortuary that he runs upstairs with a bloodied apron still on, stumbling on the disgusting carpet that stains his polished shoes. 

He yells something that sounds like begging whines, intermixed with growls. All fading when he covers his mouth with his fist, the other clutching his disgusting apron. Jaehyun had learned that this funeral home was the most successful one. Not a single decline for the past two years – of course all due to their pushiness. This will be the first time. You make sure to annotate that on the pocket notebook you’ve been clutching since entering.

That initiated your journey of looking through funeral homes with him. Jaehyun wasn’t quiet, he liked to talk a lot. If the dog was pissing on the side of the road he’d laugh then become concerned for its safety but wouldn’t stop the car to help it onto the sidewalk. 

He talked about how horrible the paneling in the second funeral home was. How the humidity had sunk in and now the walls were swollen. He talked about the light fixtures in the second funeral home. The light bulbs were foggy and therefore made the place look disgusting. It reminded you eerily of your mother. Word for word and it made you resent him without trying. Jaehyun talked a lot about everything but mostly about a past that you don’t recall.

“Do you remember Dorcas Reus.” He animatedly questions. “No.” You respond, scowling at how the whipped cream on his milkshake clung to his cheek. “No, I don’t either.” He nods to himself without looking at you. This time he hesitates, lips twisting to the side as he contemplates his next words.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Y/n.” There it is. Took him long enough considering the nature of your time together this day. You reassure him with a smile, nodding while the words slowly process in your brain and your mouth agrees to let them out. It doesn’t want to but your tongue force them out. “Thank you.” He shares a quizzical look, one that tells you that maybe your answer is too cold and simple for people’s liking but it’s the best you can do.

If he had anything to say about it, he ignores it. “Truly, she was like a second mom to me.” There’s sincerity in each word that curdles the milk in your own milkshake, etching a scowl in your face as you push the glass away. 

It’s rich, coming from a stranger. 

It’s rich, of course anything associated with your sister will receive your mother’s love more than you’ve ever felt. 

It’s rich.

“Right.” 

He purses his lips, halting whatever words he had said afterwards from hearing you interject. He breathes through his nose, back firm against the cold backrest of the diner’s booth. It’s easy to sense what he feels, at least in that subject you can relate to him.

“Why isn’t my sister here by the way?”

“Right!” It’s more joyous coming from his mouth. Dwindling when the nature of reality comes back to him and it presents itself as a deep blush across his face and scorching warmth at the back of his neck. He rubs at it to cool it down but your steady gaze makes it unbearable. “You see, we had dinner with some others in your family.” Almost everyone. “And they’re all busy with the wedding, she’s busy with the wedding… I offered, it’s the least I can do for your mom.” 

Words are heavy in his mouth, thumping against the vinyl tabletop and bouncing your way. You know he’s sincere and that makes you hate him a bit more. He has more love for your mother than you and that bothers you. Because while you’re doing it out of self prescribed guilt and obligation he’s doing it because he actually likes her. 

Tuesday: Suffocation 

Jaehyun was much quieter the following day. That’s not to say he didn’t squabble at any given chance. Who knew he was highly passionate about tap shoes. All stemming from you giggling at how ugly some tap shoes in a garbage bin were. He scolded you like you’ve known each other for years. That may be true in his reality but in yours, you have no idea who this man is. 

He fears you’ve suffered from memory loss. Recalling almost every single event that you two went through in your early academic years but when you hum with a nod and he can tell you’re lying about remembering he sighs and nods, giving you a name of a classmate that he hasn’t talked to in years but recalls for some odd reason.

He was highly passionate about paneling as well. Yesterday, that was an important factor that made him discard all the other funeral homes. Today it was the flooring and after touring two other ones that expected you to give them your first born, here he was conversing with the funeral home director the same age as your father about how horrible things have become since Reagan entered. In the short span you’ve been with him, you’ve learned that he’s comfortable and decided. 

Mr. Nix was no better than Jaehyun, jumping from interest to interest like the fleas on the stray cat. He feeds it tuna and deli meats, the only things he will eat, Mr. Nix claims, emerging from the backroom with a packet and a bag of cookies in his other hand. Jaehyun chuckles along with him and you’re thankful that he’s here for the poor old man would be nothing but uncomfortable if it was just you.

He truly has a beautiful funeral home. The walls resemble your grandmother’s. Pristine white but clean with rinceau scrolls wrapping around the bottom and top of each wall. There’s no carpet, thankfully. Beautiful mosaic flooring with spring colors replacing it and form an image of an angel in the center where the body will be seen. It’s too expensive from sight alone and you fear what it will come to but this is for your mother. Even in death you try to please her.

“I’ve circled the pain points and the discounts amounted. We can handle a payment plan. I don’t usually do that but I can trust you folks.” He completes his chuckle, placing the packet on the marble counter. He turns somber, looking at the cookies as if they contain his soul. “Here,” he addresses you after all this time with a smile. “I’m sorry for your loss, dear. Lavender lemon cookies, they were your mom’s favorite… Your dad’s too.” 

The sincerity in his expression makes your chest ache. He knows your parents, he knows what your mother likes and what your father does too. He knows them and is making an effort to acknowledge your dad… unlike the rest of the world. It’s uncharacteristic of you but you sigh with a wide smile, taking the older man into an embrace. 

It takes him by surprise, though, he’s the wiser to know this is a confused little girl that needs some comfort. He pats your head — throwing a look at Jaehyun, one which means more to the younger than intended — while wrapping his own arms around you before you ease out of it within seconds. Embarrassed by yet another public humiliation ritual of your own. 

“Thank you, Mr. Nix… we’ll see you soon.” 

He nods, perplexed by your response. A sheer layer of horror from what Jaehyun’s eyes tell him and for a second he could be confused with clairvoyant if he was to speak his mind. 

Too much affection in one gaze. Too much affection for too little time.

You attempt to flip through the package in the car while he drives to the flower shop you were meant to meet your sister. Albeit, the weight of the cookies in your palm is uncomfortable. The clear bag prickles your skin, unbearable like the touch of microfiber cloth with the exception in which you feel this ten times worse. They smell divinely, you’ll give them that but your mind gnaws with memories you’ve pushed away with this confection in particular. 

Jaehyun is considerate enough to not question it. While he loves to talk, he knows you don’t. The most he utters is: “We’re here.” while he parks the car, a pathetic side smile attempting to comfort you. You thank him regardless, he’s been good enough to sweet talk the directors while you examine what the plans included. 

He’s been company. Good enough company.

There’s only three times you’ve been inside of the flower shop. Once to buy your mother a bouquet for mother’s day that she hated with her entire soul. Second, for your parent’s fifteenth anniversary. And most recently for your mother’s funeral preparations. It’s comforting how nothing has changed besides seasonal flowers and plants.

Your sister doesn’t hesitate to greet him with a kiss when the threshold is crossed. Pushing you aside like any obstacle in her way. Lord only knows your state of mind for this act was comforting and familiar enough that you smile to yourself, something Jaehyun doesn’t miss.

They converse for the time being, you don’t waste time on flipping through the mangled pieces of funeral arrangement catalogs and looking around to find flowers. Some look too old and battered for the price and others are simply to ugly for an arrangement. Well… maybe your mom does deserve those.

You’re not too sure when Jaehyun had joined your side. You only recall your eyebrows knitting when he pointed at something in your pocket notebook. “You misspelled that.” He utters playfully and it bothers you beyond belief that you ripped off the page and begin from the top again while listing all the flowers you thought were good. He responds with nods and hums, similar to the ones you give your sister when she shows you flowers instead of her soon to be husband.

She doesn’t trust him. She doesn’t trust her soon to be husband.

The grating voice in the back of your head keeps gnawing at your brain, reaching your eye sockets and forcing your eyelids to bunch up together the louder your sister laughs with the clerk and Jaehyun’s voice rumbles against your ear drums. Incessant and miserable, yet, not comparable to the twinging screech of the credit card imprinter laughing at you for another failed attempt at maintaining the peace. 

Eyes wide open, your body abrasively turns to your sister and the clerk. Reaching them with three long strides while your eyes bore holes into the imprinter that’s full to the max with your father’s credit card. “What the hell?” It’s raw and vulnerable and so pathetic that you want to rip your hair out when all she musters is a pitiful mocking-faux-confused grin. 

“Why did you ask to meet here if you’re not even helping in finding flower arrangements for mom’s funeral?” Good, less whiny but still pathetic in everyone’s eyes. “Jaehyun is here for that.” She shrugs nonchalantly all the while she signs the receipt the clerk hands her. 

“What’s that for?” Jaehyun interjects in the conversation. His lips are puckered in a way you’ve never seen and his features are sharper than you’d ever imagine they could become. She dismisses him too. With a scoff this time to express her discontent and it makes you question many menial things that shouldn’t matter in this second. “Last minute additions, don’t worry.”

Jaehyun felt far more bothered than you’d think he’d be. Frustration carves itself on his face and for a second you believe the words spewing from his mouth would tattoo themselves onto his face. “We came to a deal that you’d stop spending on the wedding. It’s too near for you to spend willy-nilly when you should worry about your mother!” He does not intend to bawl, obvious by the red that tinges his ears. 

You don’t fall too behind, taking advantage of Jaehyun’s generosity knowing he’d back you up if things worsen. “We had a deal too. You can’t just spend dad’s money on things you don’t need anymore. The caterer was enough, Jesus Christ!” Her name teeters near the precipice of your tongue but that would humanize her too much. 

Bewilderment becomes her new acquaintance. Visibly upset at the turn of events that hold her words off in the back of her throat with a net of saliva too thick to swallow. Airy protests, the best she can utter before her body has mercy on her and she screeches, offendedly at the gang up she’s never experienced before. Only witnessed through your disadvantage.

“Well fucking sue me!” Her arms flail animatedly, harsh when they grace against both your arms ‘accidentally’. Her mouth is still puckered in offended disbelief showing more than her teeth— those gums she’s not fond of. “Fucking sue me for wanting a pretty wedding as a way to cope over mom being fucking dead!” And so bratty. “Cancel it! Cancel the transaction and take the stupid card if I’m such a burden to you two!”

How familiar, how comforting. It brings a smile to your face and your eyes close for a second. She truly is your mother’s daughter. Even in the way she runs out of the flower shop, crocodile tears staining her tulle scarf. 

Her theatrics force your head to shake with an eye roll as you sign the canceling transaction forms. The clerk is upset at the loss but very much entertained with Jaehyun’s dilemma. The man standing in the middle of the store with hands on his hips looking at the crystal door and seeing your sister hop inside the car. 

You don’t hear any crying, that’s something she still needs to learn to do. Cry loud enough to be heard from miles away to get her tantrum through. That’s what mom would do. 

“Lilies or peonies?” You ask the clerk, a contemplative look on her face. She thinks both are horrid but will offer you both to make up for the loss you caused. “Lavender,” Jaehyun answers for her. It shocks you that he’s still in here and not with your sister. No, it upsets you that he’s still here. With you and not her. 

“She hated lavender.” You deny confidently, that is the one thing you’re sure about your mother. He’s kind and gentle, at least his smile is when he attempts to correct you. “She always bought lavender stocks. Said they were the most delicious thing she’s ever known to exist.” It’s a fond memory of his. “Mr. Nix is right. She loved lavender lemon cookies.” 

His stupid chuckle was the lowest blow, not even the way his eyes narrowed pissed you off more than his stupid affectionate tone. And if he had doubts that you were your mothers daughter and his fiancee's sister, he’d be reassured you are with the way you shut the dingy catalogs and shove your pocket notebook into your purse. Brashly walking out of that overbearing floral shop. 

Jaehyun is sweet. He’s kind and patient. He’s understanding, putting his incessant vice of speaking behind to let you think in peace. His glances don’t go unnoticed by you and you don’t know how to take it. His presence annoys you but it’s also very comforting that you don’t know how you’d handle these preparations without his support. It’s a game of push and pull where you’re the only one playing at his expense and he’s still there. Stuck with nostalgia over things you don’t recall.

“Do you remember Karla Morris?” “That’s not a real person.” “I know.” Jaehyun turns to you at a stop light, laughing at your attempt to emulate him. You smile at him flatly which is good enough for him to know you’re feeling better. 

“I want to eat dinner with my dad tonight.” Jaehyun nods, taking a right. “I do too. We’ll pick something up on the way.” He quickly adds before you push him away. So little time and he knows your habits already. Allowing the word ‘alone’ to die in the cavity of your mouth and expel through a sigh that draws you towards the lavender lemon cookies on your lap. Your fingers shiver with a need to crush each one inside the bag.

“She hated lavender lemon cookies. She made it a mission to remind me every day after she spat out the ones I made for her.” A frown tugs at your lips, received with neutral understanding. “Said it tasted like stale soap.” Your chuckle must’ve been so bitter that his hand lands on yours, letting one of the cookies crack underneath the weight.

“How long ago was that?” “I was twelve.” “How old are you now?”

Like clockwork, your neck cranes slowly. Eyes narrowed in a mix of disdain and playfulness. “I know what you’re doing.” You crack a smile, annoyed but amused. Irritated but surprisingly endeared. He laughs louder than before, his smile as big as when you first met him. 

“Minds change, people change, taste buds too… maybe consider it.” It’s so easy for him to say that it reminds you why his presence irritates you so much. He’s sweet, kind, and patient. Then he speaks and it’s a giveaway that he doesn’t understand. Not the way you want him to. 

Your mother never changes. She was adamant in drilling that through everyone's head. Boasting and celebrating when she had heard a song the previous year that resonated with her about nothing being able to change her.

“Who cares what I do and say. I’m this way and I’ll never change.”

Your mother is two sides of the same coin that you and Jaehyun share with the exception that you’ll always be on the losing end when it comes to flipping it. Jaehyun understands when to step down but he doesn’t understand what it is to be your mother’s child. Let alone her oldest daughter.

Wednesday: Condescension

“Hey! Settle in, dad is watching TV. I’ll be in the kitchen with Mrs. Mimi for a bit.” 

The house is livelier than Jaehyun recalls. His last visit was the day your mother was taken away and the color had been drained from every wall in this vicinity. Now it’s warm and homey again like Christmas Eve. You as well, he blindly believes. Your inviting smile lures him into a reality where nothing life altering has happened. A smile he remembers vividly on a thirteen year old Y/n, as foreign it is to you now.

He knows this house like the back of his hand and when he reaches your father there’s a serenity to his face that calms Jaehyun further. Your mother’s portraits are soft again and there’s noise in the house. So much noise that makes Jaehyun want to sigh in relief. Things are normal again! Please be normal again…

Rek is next to your dad’s recliner chair, grumbling when he smells Jaehyun. He wasn’t familiar with Mrs. Mimi nor her dog but he often left treats for it outside the front door per request from your dad. Your mother hated it and through the pet, Jaehyun could taste the demise you’ve known for longer. One crack on the wall doesn’t always bring it down.

Catalogs are scattered across the rug, TV’s reflection on the worn out glossy covers. Neither speak for what feels like an eternity after greetings, entertained with their own fixations. Your father mimicked the dog’s complaints with everything wrong from last year's F1 championship results. He hated every single driver and team but his hate watch was more entertaining.

“Y/n, your boyfriend is on screen.” He calls over when the rerun for the Portugal Grand Prix began. “Y/n likes Nigel Mansell.” Your father clears it with Jaehyun as if it was meant to bother the younger. Jaehyun smiles cluelessly, “He’s not very good.” Your dad whispers, you still hear him. “He lost the championship by two points, don’t be like that.” You defend in a whine and Jaehyun understands now why your father would try to clear things up with him.

“He’s too old for you.” “He’s only five years older.” “Well he looks too old.”

Your dad’s quibble is comedic and protective; Jaehyun scowls, confused on how this man was anywhere near both your ages when he looked to be nearing your father’s age. Happy on the podium with his trophy and champagne on hand looking in his 40s, only thirty-three.

It’s all forgotten when you lie besides him on the floor, flipping through worn out catalog pages and jotting down notes. It’s a different notebook now. This one is in brown leather and binder rings in the middle. Loose pages of paper, cards, and receipts in every pocket. Occasionally you’ll make a wrong move that makes many of those scrap pages slip out. From that he’s seen a few words that he doesn’t think he’s meant to see. It’s the most he’s received to be filled in on your life. 

Now he knows you like a daily Dunkin’. You frequent the movie theater six times a week (one singular ticket with a large drink), spend too much at Tower Records, and hate going to the mall but love to watch people. "Pathetic, solitary, weird, but real.” as it read from the back of a dirty Pretzel Peddler receipt.

You don’t ask him for input on the flower arrangements. Both of you working in silence with a few glances from your dad here and there. Jaehyun himself flips through catalogs, reading everything you jot down without finding your notes useful. 

While prices and deals claim your focus, Jaehyun’s is taken by the symbolism of even the smallest flower he can find. You’ve chosen pre-made arrangements and wreaths, all white and boring. His lips twist in a disappointed scowl that lets it pass while he circles the things he likes. 

He doesn’t stop your robotics until you pull out the order form. Sliding closer to you with urgency, gripping your hand to not continue. “Those are nice, yeah. But… here,” he points at the first flowers he marked. “Your mom got a kick out of pulling little pranks. Laughing when the kids that set off car alarms were zapped every time they attempted to ding-dong-ditch. Geraniums, for happiness, joy.” 

There, that fondness is again. The one that laughs at you for not knowing small things. Reinforced when your dad lets out a sly chuckle himself, shaking his head at a memory you’re fabricating in your head. 

“I think if we add purple Morning Glories for happiness, blue Day lilies that have represented mothers since the Tang Dynasty and white Lilies and Roses like you originally planned then we’d have good arrangements with a message.” 

Jaehyun is ecstatic, the twinkle in his eyes tell you he means no malice but the seed that your mother planted whispers in your ear that he’s doing it for the same reasons little kids that like to gloat speak about their vacation trips and birthday presents.

Words tussle among themselves in your mouth, fighting to see in which tone they will leave and whether they’ll be harsh or not. Shaky as they come, rattling every tooth in your mouth, “Too colorful, no? She hated blue.” So matter-of-factly that makes Jaehyun smile politely knowing he’s going to correct you.

“She loved blue. Wore it daily after that blue dress you had for our silver anniversary.” Your dad kindly recalls the memory. 

The same blue dress she called you a doxy for. 

Jaehyun’s twinkle dies when he turns to you. He can’t see your eyes but feels the heat from your body radiate. “Okay, write them down.” You push the form and pen his way, taking the unopened catalogs. “And add Petunias in there.” He doesn’t question the finality, not the significance. It’s the least he can do.

Mrs. Mimi calls for everyone, dinner was ready despite it being four in the afternoon. Your father is the most eager, cackling like he hasn’t since the doomed day. It’s nice enough to kill it with your questions. 

“Dad? Did mom really like lavender?” Sheepish and childlike, memories that are not strong enough to dwindle the ache in his chest. He turns to you, forcing a smile with his nod. “Yes… everyone that wanted her knew lavenders were her favorites. They’d give these huge bouquets that would make her sneeze. I always gave her the smallest ones, she said it was the perfect amount every time.” He laughs, ignoring your stare to let the fond memories flow. “She would make lavender lemon cookies with them. Your grandma, though, hated them. Spat them out every time there was any and called them soap.” He shakes his head frantically, more so to avoid the guilt from your glazing eyes.

Forsaken with the clicking of keys when your sister opens the front door. 

Dinner goes as expected, silent besides the blaring voice of your sister talking about her wedding. Mrs. Mimi is the only one to ask questions and Jaehyun gives polite smiles and nods to your sister for reassurance. He doesn’t know what she’s talking about but this makes her happy.

Your dad on the other hand had reverted to the state you saw him when you first arrived. Eating slowly while you flip through JCPenny catalogs for the outfit your mother was to choose. Everything is horrendous and overpriced, choosing whatever looks the most appropriate. 

“That’s hideous, Y/n. Don’t do that.” Your sister cuts off her wedding talk, projecting a disgusted face at the white dress you had circled. You had drowned out her voice for the past hour that it startled you to be acknowledged. The deer-in-headlights look like you gave her only forcing a scoff to leave. Snatching the catalog from your hands and sliding it her way. 

Disgusted, she’s not shy about it with every flip of the page. Sly comments here and there while Jaehyun whispers that it’s unnecessary. “No, mom would rather die again than be seen wearing these.” She pettishly wails, the same offended look from yesterday. When Jaehyun turns quiet and your dad stops eating, she halts her own actions knowing it may have been tone deaf.

“Silly sis…” She giggles. “I’m just saying that if you had stayed you’d know she wasn’t a fan of simple but not quite flashy.” No matter how sugar sweet her voice is, the patronizing doesn’t quaver. She gives you the smile she uses to calm down Jaehyun with no effect at all on you. 

“Fine, you choose that and let me choose the jewelry from her box before you keep them, yeah?” You try to reason, sighing exhaustively with your fingers raking through your tousled hair. And if the clothes were bad, the mention of jewelry was far worse. 

“What?! No! No, no.” She laughs off her feelings, nervous with the confused looks that even Mrs. Mimi is giving her now. It’s awkward and tense but she can’t believe this is being said to her. “No, I just think it’s dangerous. It’s going to be an open casket service and with how the family has been acting…” Her head bobbles with the insinuation. She’s right but you also know her and you know she’s full of shit. “I think it’s best that she doesn’t take anything. Free of worry for everyone and she can rest without having to think of grave thieves as well.” 

You’d think she made a great point with the self reassured nod she gives, looking at her fiance to make sure he’s following her drift but turns to your father angrily when Jaehyun glares at her. Something she hasn’t seen since you arrived. Your dad on the other hand avoids her gaze the way he avoided yours.

He’s always been cowardly.

“You won’t even let her take her daily wear? Not her ring and earrings, at least?” The disbelief in your voice irks her, annoyed that your voice sounds as patronizing as hers when addressing you. You’ve overstayed your time and if it wasn’t for the funeral planning she would’ve kicked you out like your mother times past. No, she simply sighs, and shakes her head with a faux pensive look on her face.

“I want to wear them for my wedding—” “You have two large jewelry boxes for that.” “Something borrowed… something old, something new, something blue. The daily fits all the marks.”

No she wasn’t going to give her jewelry to be buried six feet underground. Who is she to let good jewelry corrode for no one to see?

Your mother’s favorite daughter.

“If you see fit…” Your father answers before you can, eyes glued to the dog that silently wails in pain for reasons unknown to you all. “Dad… she loved those earrings.” You try to reason, begging in silence for him to look at you. To look at you when you’re speaking, for fucks sake!

He’s not strong enough for that. He’s never been strong for anything related to your mother. Mustering only the art of shaking his hand to settle things down. “It would be lovely to see either of you wear them… It so happens your mother wants her to have them. They are hers now to decide their faith.” The heaviness of his voice is heartbreaking and it turns your mind to sludge. The toxic kind that evaporates and poisons the entire universe if it’s let out. Like fungal spores.

“Even dad knows best.” Your sister throws the rock that decidedly let out that venom and for their own good you shake your own thoughts away, fingernails clinging to the cushion as you push your chair away. Your father’s disappointment on your sister matters no more, he still made his choice to enable her choices. He’s a coward as much as Jaehyun that only offers apologetic looks.

“Yes… Excuse me then, I’ll go make some calls.” You utter with your father’s monotonous voice. He winces hearing the similarities and the sound of your steps. A coward. He knows he’s a coward but will do nothing about it. He’s lived too long this way.

You don’t know how long time passes, all you know is your nose won’t stop being stuffy and your eyes are trying to force out tears that won’t come. Making you feel like the worst daughter to ever exist. 

It’s useless to try to cry, groaning out of frustration and taking the pack of cigarettes you bought a few days ago when you felt the same way. Making your way out your room to chip a piece of paint from your mother’s hallway portraits on the way downstairs towards the backyard. 

A fluorescent blue that was always calming as a child illuminates the pool. Moonlight makes it more soothing and it reminds you of the times you spent your summers as toddlers swimming with your sister and father at night because that’s the only times you'd see him in those days. 

The days when your sister inherently loved you. 

The memory fades away with the smoke you exhale, trying to cling with no avail after the sigh that follows right after.

“Mind if I have one?” Jaehyun’s soothingly grating voice cranes your neck. The sound of the sliding doors keeps you grounded. Tossing the box his way to catch, with a box of matches. He manages to catch the larger box while the matches recoil in his grasp, jumping into the pool. 

A bummer, you really liked the iconography in the back.

“Sorry…” He sighs, scolded with the look you give him when you stand up from your crouching position. Connecting your lit cigarette with his. The proximity to his face lets you see the small details you hadn’t noticed this entire time. His eyes are darker than you remember. They’re nice, they’re warm. You like them…

Jaehyun had been inhaling deeply during the transaction, heavily letting it out in the form of smoke when he thanked you. A good distance between you both that transcends into a comfortable silence; cigarettes racing among each other to see which one burns the fastest. 

Ironically, his does, leaving him with nothing else to concentrate on besides what he has been thinking about telling you all afternoon. He licks his lower lip, looking between you, the conch shell ashtray that looks too familiar, the pool, and you again. His eyes tracing over that pattern to put off the remaining bud. 

“I’ll talk to her. About the jewelry. Don’t worry.” He nods like he’s doing you a favor. The last bit of cigarette burning away with the stare you give him. Exuding energy that makes your cigarette burn faster and force the smoke to frantically leave. 

“Can we not?” Irritated was the tone of your voice that made him wince and cower away. “I’m sorry.” He offers and he truly is but the awkwardness eats him away. He’s like a child trying to bond with their cool older neighbor that pays them no mind and finds them annoying.

“Everyone just seems to know her more than I do, it’s pathetic.” You derail, it’s whiny and peevish like your sister’s tone. “Does it fully bother you?” He questions, weighing the similarities. “It does for now but I think once I go back, I won’t care again.” Your lips purse, humming contemplatively. He mimics yours expressions and sounds, nodding as a difference. “Count your days then.”

Not much has made you laugh but this does, showing him a smile he hasn’t seen in days. “It sounds like a threat.” You joke, he follows with a chuckle and a grin, “It is. But a threat to not think too much about it.” 

He knows how to kill the mood.

“It’s my mom’s funeral, how can I not?” You’re irked. He knows he’s irked you once again and he yearns to know when he should stop. It’s overbearing and tiring for him to keep fucking up but he doesn’t know when to stop talking. 

“I didn't mean it like that, I’m sorry… That was too aloof on my part, I'm sorry.” He begs, eyebrows knitted looking at you. His eyes are still dark but hurt unlike earlier.

“I don't know how to take it either, Jaehyun.” You grumble, standing up from your spot, putting the cigarette bud off on the delicate shell that cracks with the heat. The silence surrounding both isn’t comfortable like it was only a few minutes ago. It’s tense and intoxicating, filling his lungs with tar making them heavy and he knows he can’t stay here for longer.

“Her wedding outfit. What she was going to wear for our wedding. You should choose that.” It sounds strange, ‘our wedding’ like he’s talking about his and your wedding not his and your sister’s wedding. You go stiff at the thought, it’s too intimate and immoral. It’s you now that needs to get out of there before you let the repression do or say anything stupid. 

Your hands tingle when they clasp onto the sliding door handle, his gaze on your turned back holding you in place. You’re sure neither of you know what either want but whatever you’re feeling shouldn’t be there. A goodnight is polite, better than bye yet neither wants to leave your cold lips aching for warmth. No, rather you slide the door open leaving him behind.

Between your own, your mother’s ghost’s, and your father’s judgment the heaviness persists the longer the older man looks at you without speaking. He’s looking at you. He’s finally looking at you directly in the eyes with a distraught disappointment as if he knows what you’re thinking. There he knew you’re also your father’s daughter. Cowering away from anything remotely complicated. The words evident in the harsh smoke of your father’s own cigar when walking past him.

Thursday: Pathetic

Jaehyun hadn’t mentioned anything from the previous night when he came around to pick you up. Your father hadn’t either, not like he would anyways. Mrs. Mimi had let Jaehyun in, forcing him to eat breakfast with the rest of you while Rek growled at him anytime he got near you to speak. The dog truly was not fond of him for whatever reason which wounded Jaehyun and confused you. Your father didn’t voice it but thought the dog was too perspective for either of you. The boundary that separates it all.

But Rek wasn’t here with you two at the funeral home, listening to the radio that gets drawn out by Mr. Nix and Jaehyun as they speak about the weather while you flip through the order forms to make sure everything is correct. 

You nitpick at everything. From Jaehyun’s horrible chicken scratch handwriting to the awkward paint chips on the decor. Similar enough and in places that resemble the ones you’ve made on your mother’s portraits around the house these past days.

“Lavender and Lilies… that’s lovely… your mother would’ve loved it.” Mr. Nix’s soothing voice attracts your attention, craning your neck to see him reading the order form still in your hands. 

He smiles widely, laughing quietly until it turns into a sob upon sensing your eyes on him. It’s startling, feeling like a bubble for only you two being created. Jaehyun was no longer anywhere in sight and the doorbells by the backdoor kept ringing melodiously. You’ve never been great in these situations. 

Comfort was only granted by coworkers after you got scolded for a mistake, none very genuine. Or by strangers who wanted the feel of one night with you. Mr. Nix wants nothing of that sort from you, you’re not even sure if he wants comfort with the way his smile tries to not seize. 

“I loved your mother, you know. She was my first love and I want to think I was hers too.” He sniffles, a handkerchief in his hand that you never saw him take out. “Of course she would say your father was but she had been choosing between the two before going steady with either.” He nods as if it was common sense. You knew your mother loved your father but she could have loved him as much as you with the way she took her hatred out on him when you weren’t around.

“Your grandmother never liked me. Not sure why but she just didn't.” He shrugs, lips pursed in surrender. “Your mother would say it was because I made her happy and it’s something your grandmother didn't like. I could see that.”

Oh.

The apple was rotten right to the core from all those that came before. 

“I don’t know when it happened but suddenly the next thing I knew about your mother was that she was getting married to your father. That sent me into a spiral and when I returned from my breakdown trip, you were already here.” Melancholy floods those poor foggy eyes, cataracts forming from pain. He looks at you for longer than you’d like, sensing his desire to know what floods your mind but you’re as hard to read as your mother was, eliciting a chuckle. 

“I gave her one last call to ask how labor had been, to make sure she was fine and when you cried, we both said our goodbyes. We knew that was it. Y/n, that’s the name we’d give a girl if we ever had one.” 

There’s no more wonder why Jaehyun and Mr. Nix get along so well, both are horrendous at keeping to themselves and both know how to irk your nerves beyond belief. 

Maybe this is why your mother chose your mousy father rather than this chatterbox.

Regret floods Mr. Nix at your perpetual silence and where he hadn’t been able to tell what you were feeling earlier, he could feel your frustrated disgust concentrated in the blank look. It’s warm, piercing, and as painful as the ones your mother would give him. 

You’re just like her.

Mr. Nix sighs, gaze dropping with a final sigh, “Congratulations on your wedding, dear. Jaehyun cares for you deeply. Trust me…” It dawns upon you that Mr. Nix thought you’re the one marrying Jaehyun. It brings that similar pit in your stomach from last night. 

‘Our wedding.’

Yours and Jaehyun’s. Not your sisters and Jaehyun’s.

Every bone in your body attempts to not combust into powder. Neurons arguing among themselves on how to respond or if to ignore him. He’s added damage to your perception of your mother, you’re not too sure he’s deserving of any more socially appropriate politeness.

The backdoor bells ring, blaring content for what is being brewed in this room. It’s uncomfortable, disgustingly sticky tension the while you look at Mr. Nix and he looks back at you with confusion and somewhat freight. Eerie how similar you resemble your mother. 

“Ready to go? Apparently your sister wants me to pick up the veil.” Jaehyun sighs looking at his pager, the TV guide in his hand crumpled with burnt edges. He had been clenching to it as he smoked one of your cigarettes.

“Yes,” You tear your gaze from the older of the three, he releases a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. Glad this easy solution rids him of the painstaking sharp stab in his chest. “Mr. Nix wanted to congratulate us.” You add, turning back to him.

“On?” Jaehyun quizzically questions, “Your wedding, consider all of this my wedding gift for you both and… for your mother.” Mr. Nix turns back to you, a polite apologetic smile for what he has dumped. 

Neither you or Jaehyun correct him, the latter thanking him with a hug while you wait by the door for him. He doesn’t speak to you the entirety of the car ride to the bridal shop. Perhaps he’s angry you didn’t correct Mr. Nix but neither did he so it’s much his fault as it is yours. Or perhaps he’s grown tired of your hot and cold behavior with the slightest inconvenience. 

Regardless, it’s not for him to care how you react nor do you care.

“Why didn’t you correct him?” He sighs, looking forward. He has that same sunken look he had given your sister last night. You don’t think it’s comparable. In no form is your sister priving your mother of the luxury she grew to know to you not correcting your mother’s old flame about who Jaehyun was to marry. If it mattered that much to him, then he shouldn’t have enabled the old man with a cheery smile and a hug. 

You still can’t fathom that he thought you and Jaehyun were the ones getting married. Are you not obvious with how little comfort you find in Jaehyun? Is it not obvious that you can barely stand him? Or is your solitude too grand that people find it a breath of fresh air that someone like Jaehyun floods your vicinity with his polite affection and caring nagging? As if he’s doing you a favor.

Pathetic is what you are seen as in everyone’s eyes. Even Jaehyun's, it seems.

“I’m not the one getting married. You are.”

Friday: Has killed you

It’s filthy, disgusting, and shameful. The wake, everything is beautifully decorated, making you forget it's a funeral, save for the countless pictures of your mother and weeping crowd. You're not sure they're sincere but it makes your father feel calm seeing the masses of people approach the casket. "She's loved." He fondly claims, a sadden smile plastered on his face.

You don't have the heart nor will to remind him that they're all here for appearances and in hopes of taking more things once home. Maybe that's the pessimist in you who cannot fathom your mother being genuinely adored. The words affection and mother are foreign to each other in your mind.

Besides your aunts, sister — surprising despite her indifference this entire week—, and Mr. Nix, you don't hear much wailing. Your father is holding his breath to not shatter in front of all these people.

Chatter from one end to the other, mostly prayer. A part of you feels envious of their ability to let everything out. Why is it that you have to suffer with the weight of your unexplored emotions? Leaving you to dry heave or tear at your hair when nothing expels. Why is it so easy for everyone else to let things go?

Jaehyun's persistent staring doesn't make it any easier. He's made it a mission to fly around you like a hungry vulture waiting for its prey to finally give out and then consume.

Surely, he's not. He's making sure you're doing fine, keeping an eye on you but Lord, do you fucking loathe it. You don't understand it, would be a better descriptor, but it irritates you that he cares so much that you can't fathom any other emotion but dislike.

Perhaps what makes it worse is that your sister is there by his side, every second. You reckon you could handle it if it was just him. After all, this isn't the first time he's kept a watchful eye on you. He's done it the entire week, it just feels too real today out of all days.

Everything is felt too deeply. Today.

Tomorrow is your sister's wedding. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Tomorrow is meant to be happy and full of love. But today has killed you. Today has killed any positive perception of those around. It has killed your sensibility and everything is nothing but a shit show. A shit show like Jaehyun described when reconnecting.

Fuck, even that bothers you.

He talks and talks and talks about something that happened before college that you have no prior memory of. The people he mentions, the events, the laughter, the year. You don't remember anything prior to getting a bachelors, how is it that this stranger that is marrying your sister knows more about your life than you do?

How does he know more about your mother than you?

"Y/n!"

Embarrassing. Zoning out in your mother's funeral service.

Mrs. Mimi, the much perceptive, gives you a pitiful smile, hand to your shoulder to hand you a warm Dixie cup. Your head's attempt to shake is futile, the muscles of your neck refuse to move. 

"You look tired,"

"More like sickly." Your sister interrupts. Jaehyun looks down at her with furrowed eyebrows to scold. "Drink it, ‘should give you some energy." Mrs. Mimi pushes the cup further into your hand. It's warm and comforting in a sense you haven't experienced.

Despite the bitter taste of ginger and apples in the tea, you drink it. It brings no energy boost, rather it makes you more sleepy but she had all the intention to make you feel better and that keeps you up for longer.

A mother. At least that is what you think a mother should do and Mrs. Mimi was a wonderful mother. Even to those she did not birth.

"Do you remember Jo Josephine?" Jaehyun utters, leaning into you. You hadn't realized when he had sat beside you or when you had been ushered onto a chair.

"No." "No? Really?"

The surprise in his tone doesn't go overlooked. He tends to hum when you respond as such but not this time.

"She was your friend. Always wore a huge gardener hat and gloves with bee print." He chuckles, a surprised chuckle. "Yeah?" You hum, dazed. Well maybe the tea was effective in relaxing your senses. "No, I don't remember any of my friends. It's been too long since I saw any of them." You shrug, the nonchalance in your tone worrying Jaehyun.

Per usual, Jaehyun goes on a tangent about something you don't recall. You've learned to drown his voice out. Muffled in the sea of weeps, his laughter the only outlier that doesn't last long. Another voice joins him but you're too busy with the liquid in your cup to care for what they ought to say.

There's some liquid in the cup. Enough to submerge the small cubes of ginger and apples but cold against your tongue. You swivel around the cup, making it colder. For a part of you longs to be in their place than here. Swimming in a pool of cold water with no preoccupation of the outside world. Being inanimate sounds desirable.

"Y/n!"

It's that same incessant call from earlier. This time you're able to pin it to your sister that looks at you far more annoyed. She grumbles under her breath about something you don't care to hear as Mr. Nix gives you that same pitiful smile Mrs. Mimi had given you. It'd be ironic if he was to give you some tea as well.

"Carriage and burial space is ready to transfer your mother's body." He meekly comments, he's as stuffy as your sister had been. Mustering a nod, you stand up from your spot, not noticing Jaehyun's help when standing up. His hand feels warm against the small of your back.

A huge part of you wants to blame your disconnect with whatever Mrs. Mimi had given you. One second you were standing up at the funeral home giving Jaehyun a long look that for once made your sister quizzical and upset while his hand remained on you and the next you're watching how roses are being tossed over your mother’s casket as Jaehyun ushers you into Mrs. Mimi's car.

The priest's prayer had been the only thing you remember vividly. Reciting every word in hushed murmurs — drowned by the cackling and chattering in the other rooms of the house — while serving coffee into Dixie cups. Mrs. Mimi often tries to take the tray away from your hands and Rek to absorb all of your attention. Both fail miserably.

Jaehyun hadn't stopped looking your way. He tries what Mrs. Mimi and her dog do but he's received harshly. Rather, you send him to make sure no one tries to take anything else or go upstairs to bother your exhausted father, hidden away in his bedroom. The masses of people downstairs and their brewing questions had kept him awake all night.

Your sister? Doing what your mother would have done. Entertain and please the guests. She's your mother's favorite for a reason.

By 20:00 when your mother had passed, she led the novena prayer. The only moment of silence and unity you felt among your extended family and for a second you believed there could be some good in these people.

Of course by 21:03 when prayer was done and they reverted to their constant chatter about stories of old regarding your mother, that serenity left your body once more.

It's outstanding how these memories sound so loving and nurturing. Something you can't recall from your mother. They laugh and cackle about her scoldings. How she'd yell at them for running inside the house, wet from the pool. But it was you that had to clean the entire house right after. It was you that had to make sure there was no chlorine smell left behind.

Your cousins laugh about the time they had attempted to smash your face on your 8th birthday cake but she had told them to not be rude. She had done it. She had smashed your face on that cake and it was difficult to rid away the smell of artificial strawberries from your nose after the jam had gone too far up. The cake was destroyed and they had all gotten upset at you. You never had a party after that. It's been twenty years.

Or the story your aunt is on and on about now. She had gotten so upset at your mother for not letting her borrow grandma's gold bangles for clubbing that she bent them without anyone knowing. Your mom had blamed you for it a week later after making you get them for her in hopes to wear them for a PTA meeting. Your sister's pet at the time had gotten in your way and to avoid stepping on it, you fell. She chalked it up to that and left you to do chores for your aunt an entire week.

There's no way your sensibility can return when all these funny and fond memories of your mother came at your expense and none of them care. None of them will ever care.

You can't take it anymore, rushing upstairs into your room to hide away. You can't say you feel saddened. You do feel a raging heat in your chest that attempts for you to bring your fists hard at your thighs to release it.

The intruder in your room doesn't let that happen. It surprises and annoys you at the same time seeing them there. On your bed with hands on their head while weeping harder than the wailing in public earlier today.

"I'm sorry, my room was locked." Your sister sniffles, slowly turning to look at you. There's a horrific sincerity in her voice that you're not used to. A frame rests on her lap, jittering with her legs.

Your silence draws her attention, handing you the frame while tears flood her waterline. It's a picture of your mother with the both of you. Quite honestly, you don't remember this. It's surprising to see your mother this affectionate with you. Arms encircling your waist and kissing your face.

"Grandma's funeral trip. We went to the lake on the way home, remember?" She questions, blowing her nose. You shake your head, standing straight. You hadn't attempted to take the frame from her hand. You're sure it would leave a branding on your palm, there's no way this is real.

The look in her eye is similar to the one Jaehyun gives you when you don't remember what he's talking about. Although, his is more comprehensive and patient.

"You don't remember this at all?" She asks, taken aback. You want to lie and say you do but knowing who she's marrying, she will just ask follow up questions too. "No." She scoffs in disbelief, swallows it before blinking rapidly. Patient, that's new.

"Mom was ecstatic that week. Rejoicing that the witch was dead and no one would torment her anymore. She treated you better than me for an entire month. Do you not remember that?" She prods, placing the frame on your bed.

You shake your head, she can only laugh. "What has she done to you…" She sighs to herself. She had heard in college about trauma causing memory loss but she had never guessed your mother had been that harsh for you to repress everything. Maybe she just hadn't seen her worse but you can't tell her either. You don't remember, after all.

"Would you be a stand-in for her tomorrow?" She questions meekly. You want to say no, to tell her you would rather miss the wedding at this point but she gives you no chance. "Please?" Her voice wavers, lips quiver. Here come the waterworks.

"I don't know about you, Y/n. But I miss mom so dearly and not having her on the day she was looking forward to is—" She sobs, covering her mouth with the frame, lips falling over your mother.

"Why not ask one of our aunts?" Your voice is hoarse. She shakes her head, pursed lips in disgust. "I'm not letting those hags get their hands on mom's jewelry. You heard them, yeah? Worms for brains all of them." She scoffs before releasing a forlorn sigh.

"Dad doesn't want to look at you because you look so much like mom today." She confesses. It would explain why he's avoided you. "You're even wearing the dress she wore for grandma's funeral." She tries to laugh yet it comes out as a shaky sob. 

"Mrs. Mimi left it out for me…" You defend, she shrugs. "I told her to." She shrugs again like it was the most sane thing to do. You're not sure how to take this. On one hand it seems like psychological warfare on your father — cruel on her part even if she doesn't see it — and on the other, it's the closest you'll be to your mother.

"You look so much like her. More than I do… It would bring peace to me if you were her stand in." She breathes deeply and exhales heavily. She's trying to seem relaxed before breaking into yet another sob. The one that makes her entire body shake and fall onto your bed, clutching onto the frame that's now against her chest.

"I didn't want her to take her daily stack so you could wear it… Not because I'm that much of a heartless bitch, Y/n. I loved mom." She cries some more. 

It’s rich, considering she said she wanted to wear it for her wedding. Whether you believe either version or not, doesn’t matter. Not when she hugs you in hopes it digs your heels deeper. It's stale and awkward but she revels in it, hiding in the crook of your neck as she cries harder.

"You smell like mom too." She wants to confess, but she knows it would drive you away. She'll take what she can get before you leave them all once again.

"Will you?" She voices, pulling away. "I don't w— don’t know." You don't want to. She knows it. 

"Why are you like this?" The question everyone has meant to ask. "Like?" Your indifferent confusion bothers her further.

"You're like a doll that gains consciousness for a certain amount of time and then you're… a doll again. Quiet, clueless, awkward. No offense, sissy. It's just… not what I remember you as at all." There's a sigh stuck in her chest, it clamps around her lungs but it refuses to leave. There's a sincere worry in her voice that makes your own set beliefs waver but you won't break that wall just yet.

You shrug. Slow and unsure of what to say. "It worries Jaehyun more than it should." The bite in her words will go ignored, you're having a relatively nice talk with her to let any animosity return.

"You don't remember him at all." Your head shakes as confirmation. "You don't even remember the projects you did with him." You shake your head again and it makes her want to hit it for the memories to return.

"I pray you learn to trust, have faith in both of us." She hugs you again. It's warm but empty. Mayhaps it's just you, unused to the affection and love of a sibling. Of a family member and if she meant trust in Jaehyun too, then you'll give it a chance for the warm feeling brewing in your heart.

"I'll do it… I'll be mom's stand-in." You relent. She smiles and cheers like there isn't a post burial get together downstairs. Like your mother isn't gone but everyone copes differently. You cope by not being able to cry and allowing everyone to walk all over you. 

On the way downstairs she rambles about what you can wear and the jewelry she had chosen. Nothing seems ideal nor your taste. It sounds redundant and weird in a sense that she's making you be so much like your mother.

Although, that's the whole point. Having your mother be at her wedding one way or another, no matter that your identity is being wiped. Like it would have been if your cousin hadn't opened her mouth about the wedding. You later found your mother had gotten that stinking infection from picking flowers with her. It's bizarre how a domino effect works.

It all muddles with the laughter of the guests, “Well to my sister! And to her lovely daughter, for juggling the stress of a wedding and grief to organize a beautiful burial for her mother.” The crowd turns to your sister as if they knew where she was immediately. Despite the streaks and puffiness she still looks ethereal and content with the recognition.

Right. Foolish of you to trust too easily.

She thanks them, hands to her heart and ignoring the side eye you give her. A look that begs her to correct them because truly she did jackshit for this funeral. This was so in character for her and you still fell. She'll cry and throw a tantrum until she gets what she wants while pretending like she did nothing for it.

She's your mother's daughter.

Unsure of when but the slight grin on your face unsettles her and it worsens when Jaehyun calls for the floor. He smiles and giggles, he's already so loved by the family.

"Thank you uncle, Carlo. Thank you as well my love for the suggestions but I do want to thank Y/n most of all for every single detail she gave into organizing this funeral." My love… so cold and unloving. It soothes you.

"For her delicacy in detail, to the meaning of the flowers, all the way down to her last outfit. Mrs. Y/l/n was a woman with a strong attitude who never took anything that did not cater to her. Therefore, knowing her, I'm sure she would love how today and the entire week was held in her honor. She would be proud."

Jaehyun's voice is so reassuring that it bothers you how much he believes it. It bothers you that everyone seems so surprised and taken aback. It bothers you that your sister seems slightly upset and weary. It bothers you that he thinks he did you a favor.

Yet it soothes you once more and your grin does not go overlooked. You're being recognized.

Guests leave shortly after. Jaehyun had made sure to kill their mood with mentions of you and for once you're openly thankful for his help despite knowing all he mentioned was thanks to him.

Mrs. Mimi and you had stayed to clean the house while your father had fallen asleep hours ago. Your sister made sure to give him his medication before she left. Despite the severity of this day's events, she was still going to celebrate her bachelorette party. Something some of your cousins and her friends threw on her behalf to rid of the sadness experienced. Of course, you don't receive an invitation.

It was just Mrs. Mimi, your father, you, and Jaehyun.

Jaehyun?

"You don't have a bachelor party or something?" You don't intend for it to come out irritated but Rek's wheezing seals the blow. "Ouch." Jaehyun laughs, attempting to pet the dog that growls at him to stay away. He frowns, furrowing his eyebrows before huffing.

"I'd rather make sure you— you're all doing good." Mrs. Mimi halts her scrubbing, sighing to herself before returning to the final dishes. "We're fine." You answer, aiding the older woman.

"Why aren't you with your sister? I thought you had left with them." "Wasn't invited."

Jaehyun stops drying the dishes you rinse, slowly turning to look at you. Musing similarly to when your sister refused to bury your mother in her daily wear jewelry.

"Mrs. Mimi, we got it from here. You should rest for tomorrow." Jaehyun diverts, upset settled in his voice despite his sweetness. The older of the three chuckles, shaking her head, handing the soap lathered cup to you. It's crowded near the sink and fairly humid but none of you would rather be anywhere else.

"Baby, I wasn't invited." It's infinitely hilarious to her. The angered looks and disgust in your faces. She's amused while Jaehyun tries to process it. "What? I asked her and she said she made sure to drop off your invite." He huffs and scoffs like a steam whistle from disbelief.

"You'll be my plus one, in that case!" It's so childlike that it makes Mrs. Mimi continue her laughter, scrubbing the last remaining plates. She shakes her head, wiping her hands on the tea towel. "No, don't worry. This week made me reflect and I'm going to visit my mother…" She sighs, nodding to herself before looking at you both.

Jaehyun wants to say something but he is not one to get between someone and their family so he relents as you do. "Sleep well then." He pouts, hugging her goodbye. She thanks him, patting his cheek to then hug you as well. It lingers and it's comforting to the point that you feel something stir in the pit of your stomach.

Her gaze travels between you and Jaehyun and you both know there are words lingering in mind that she dares not utter. Ultimately she sighs, nodding again before patting both your cheeks, struggling to get Rek out of the house due to his resistance.

Dogs are perspective and they can smell the dangers of the world miles away. He knows nothing good will brew tonight. He knew nothing good would come from you returning. Yet he still loves you more than anyone besides Mrs. Mimi. Just like your father.

Mrs. Mimi leaves with a whaling Rek trailing behind her. His cries are cautionary and she knows it. Uttering silent: "There's so much one can do, Rek." here and there. There's so many things amiss but like usual, you'll ignore anything perturbing you.

It's awkward for the remainder of the clean up. Jaehyun and you share some words but not full sentences. His glances are lesser than earlier but you can still feel them on you when he's not besides you. They're far more penetrating than your mothers and when midnight rolls around and you're both done, the only way to thank him is with a cold glass of wine on your mother's white rug.

You stumble taking a seat before him. Resting against the feet of the couch allows your muscles to relax and scream at you for all the tension you ignored this past week. It's painful to move and your lower back aches as it did when Jaehyun touched it earlier.

"Mom never allowed me to be here in fear of dirtying this rug." You smile fondly, you remember that much. "Now you're drinking red wine on it." He humors you, "Now I'm drinking red wine on it." You repeat, clinking your glasses so hard some wine does splatter onto your hands and the rug.

A rush of freight floods you but remembering where your mother was makes you relax, sharing a silent laugh with Jaehyun who's body shakes along yours with every sip. This is the most you've given him and he won't take it for granted.

"Why do you love my mom so much, Jaehyun?" You ask, the moonlight coming through the sliding doors. That beautiful blue reflecting off the pool into the living room, making you forget that the rug is not blue but white.

He swivels his glass much like you had in the morning. "I told you she's like a second mother to me. She was very nurturing and inviting when we first started dating. Always made me feel like I belonged and it reminded me of my mom." He smiles fondly, "My mom lives too far and I'm not even sure if she'll be here for the wedding." He laughs, "I hope she’s not..."

Huh?...

"Why are you even getting married on Valentine's Day anyway? Isn't it corny?" You attempt to steer the conversation astray. If you think too much about your mother and his words, you may turn into her and wreak havoc on Jaehyun. He doesn't deserve it despite your (un)justly targeted rage.

"It's my birthday." He smiles fondly, his lips stained red. "We met on Valentine's Day." He laughs quietly; his neck must ache from resting against the coffee table. You yourself don't find any humor in the statement. "I guess it was meant for you and her to get married." A horrible despondency in your voice that you regret.

"I meant you and I, Y/n."

You look up at him, confused and somewhat appalled. How corny.

"You don't have to tell me you don't remember, I get it now." He laughs, "Year seven, had just moved here and we had that awful arts class. The one with the loony teacher that spoke about health while smoking cigarettes behind the gym."

You laugh, yet you don't remember.

"Our task was to make Valentine's Day cards for our desk mates. I told you it was my birthday too and you wrote: ‘Happy lover boy day. Love was meant to be in your life.’" There's a certain fondness in his voice that makes you believe it. The detail to his description sounds cliche, something you most definitely had in mind back then.

"Now I illustrate greeting cards for a living." Your laughter fuels Jaehyun's sooner than you thought, his body was next to yours now. His neck resting on the cushion of the couch. "I know. Your dad has a great collection of them. I do too..." Truly, Jaehyun confuses you. You won't dwell on that now, it's not worth it.

Whether it's only a second or an hour, neither of you tear each other's gaze away. His eyes intent on your own, examining every speck of color and the way your pupils dilate, as his do.

"Why don't you remember anything I tell you about?" He questions sincerely, no judgment in comparison to your sister. You shrug, "I don't know. I… don't remember anything from then or you." Jaehyun doesn't respond, staring at you for an answer he won't get. "And you? What do you remember of me?" 

He hesitates, sighing deeply. "You used to be much more jolly than you are now."

That is not what you expected.

"Why do you dislike your mom, Y/n?" He gets comfortable beside you. His glass knocking against your empty one. You can smell the sweet tones of wine in his breath, signaling how uncomfortably close he is.

"I… I don't know…" It's meek and raw, the child in you coming out. "I don't know why she hated me." His expression doesn't change, only do his fingers come to comb away your hair.

"Ever since I can remember she cared more for others and my sister than me. She treated my cousins like hers but me like a beggar." Your grip on the glass tightens, knocking it against Jaehyun's this time.

"One mistake and I was yelled at or she'd ignore me for weeks on end. Then I left for college when she didn't want me to and it became worse… The last time I saw her was for her and dad's anniversary two years ago and she—" The words get stuck in your throat, as if you're to cry.

"She woke me up in the middle of the night, on grandma's birthday — she had been dead for years now — to tell me she hated me… Never knew why… But, yesterday Mr. Nix confessed him and mom dated. That grandma hated him for making mom happy and it clicked. I guess, it's hereditary to hate your first born daughter… Grandma always complained about mom while doting on me."

Your brain attempts to piece it all together but your heart doesn't want to. While you've scratched the surface you don't want to delve into the implication of what it means for your future (if any) or what it means for that inner child of yours.

You just don't want to think anymore.

'Please… Please, Jaehyun, help me not think anymore.'

"You reckon?" He questions, pinky caressing your knuckles. "When I proposed to your sister, she approached me right after. She looked at me, hugged me, and looked at me again with that sunken look she has when she thinks too deep. "Are you sure?" She asked seriously, almost confused. I told her I was, that I loved her with my entire heart and she laughed, shaking her head. She said she was a nice girl but hollow at heart."

Odiously, you know what she meant. "I reaffirmed I loved her, I did… We were looking at family pictures and she kept looking over yours. She said you hated her so much that you left, it was admirable in her eyes." He sighs, more of his fingers on your skin and like a fool you let him.

"She knew you’d always be there but not your sister. You give all to one and they become hollow, shallow, and entitled. You don't give anything to the other and they'll always be there... yearning. They don't expect anything but would love something.”

"That sounds horrible." "It is." "And unfortunately she always knew what I wanted." "I fear so."

You relent, looking directly at him again. "I don't hate her. I just… dislike my mother." The confession is not shocking, it's a given known fact but it's relieving to speak out loud.

"And… I fear she saw through me all those months ago. I was not sure nor in love with your sister."

His confession is shocking. Not because you don't believe him but it was far too late for this statement. "It's fucked, I know. But after this week, I can't marry into this family."

It's too late. It's too late.

"They've indoctrinated you by now." Is the best you can muster. It's not any better than the mantra in your brain.

"The countless meals without you and your father. The conversations: soulless and mean spirited, shallow, egotistical… Everyone’s worry over the wedding rather than their grief – if any. How many people I stopped from trying to pick the locks today... Y/n, only you and your dad are worth it.” He breaths out, an ache in his voice that feels familiar. As if he had been picking at your brain to consume it himself but it's only intoxicating him.

He's so close, far more close than earlier and the wine is stronger. A part of you wants to be sane and stop this madness. Righteous in the sense to not make matters worse but his mewls when you pull at his hair to get him off drive you closer. "Don't do this to me…" You plead with no real intent or sorrow.

“Maybe you were right about the universe being cruel because it was you I was meant to see first. It was you and your mom knew all along.” He whines against your lips, tongue wetting his but you can taste the sweetness of him and that wine. That damn wine.

Your fingers clasp around his hair harder, eliciting more of those pretty sounds he makes and it takes everything in your power to not cry from how beautiful he sounds and looks. Red and needy all for you. "It was you. It has always been you." He confesses, bringing his lips against yours and it's not your will nor your bodies to push him off. Reciprocating that indulgence you've been craving.

His mouth is fairly warm, sweet and dangerous as the wine. The kiss is anything but clean. Mostly tongue and some teeth.

The semi-full glasses of wine are long forgotten, staining the rug as proof of your immorality. Jaehyun doesn't seem to remember them, you on the other hand, don't care. It's not like your mother can scold you anymore.

His hands feel significantly scalding under your dress, rugged fingers working at the clasps to remove it like a robe. Nothing is soft or tender, it's all rushed and hungry. Animalistic almost, save for the soft touches he gives you when a sliver of skin reaches him.

"You're no better than them." You kiss him, his hands on your hips, dragging you onto his lap. He's painfully hard that any move of yours makes him writhe, sinking his teeth onto your lower lip. It's fine, you deserve it and you like it. You'll take what he gives…

Jaehyun nods, tongue seeking yours. He seems to savor the sweet fruity notes of the wine as well. "I know." He hums against your lips, "I'm not denying that." A moan leaves his mouth, swallowed by you. Your hands working on his belt.

"What will you do tomorrow? What will you do standing before God and Christ, promising eternal love and faithfulness? Does that not mean anything to you? Won't shame burn your feet and eat your soul away as you walk though that arch?"

It's rhetorical, he still answers. "It won't." He kisses your jaw. "It will." Tongue laps at your neck where your sister — his fiancee — had cried earlier. "I haven't decided if I want faith to run my future." The indifference in his voice makes you laugh, one that is drowned when he nips at your skin.

Jaehyun isn't particularly soft, his hands knead at your skin and grasp harshly when on your ass. The fabric that made the dress is long tossed to the side and his shirt had been off for seconds now. Ripped from the neck, the restriction bothering him.

It's not a struggle for him to remove your bra, tossing that to the pile of clothes as well. It's his mouth that shows you he can be delicate if he wants to. The way in which his lips wrap around your swollen tit feel like healing pads. Tongue softly lapping at the aching nipples.

You can hear and feel his soft moans around each, rotating after nearly a minute of attention. His tongue is what you love most at the moment. So velvety, warm, and moist. Plush and gentle with every lick to soothe the ache his teeth cause when he wants to be funny and nip at them.

"Don't be a dick." You scold, pulling at his hair like that doesn't turn him on furthermore. He laughs against your chest, the rumble felt so deep against your sternum. "Sorry," He pouts like nothing before kissing a path up your neck to feel your lips against his again.

He wants to speak with no avail, rather you swallow any breath he takes in an attempt to utter a word. Ravishing his lips to distract him from how near you are to taking him out of his trousers. That is until he takes your hands into his, intertwining your fingers with his and leaning further into you. Hard on pressing against the thin cotton of your panties.

"You're being a tease." You joke, mimicking the pout he gave you earlier. He grins, apologizing insincerely once again while pressing into you. The harsh fabric of his trousers was stimulating.

He attempts to reward you by massaging circles on your clit over the cotton of your panties but you swat his hand away, taking his face into your hands for another hungry kiss. He stifles his chuckle, letting you explore his mouth with your tongue. As a reward, he connects his with yours, allowing both muscles to enjoy the ecstasy.

Your hips take his distraction as an opportunity to swivel against him. Eliciting those pretty sounds you love to consume and forcing you to go faster, a wet spot already seeping into any remaining fabric. Jaehyun doesn't take lightly to this, pushing your panties away to let his fingers roam. It's stimulating and overly enjoyable.

How easy the digits slip in, stretching you deliciously to then piston at a set speed that has you hunching over, begging to feel his mouth on yours again. Jaehyun enjoys it, a cheeky grin on his face when your eyes meet his and as a reward, he buries his fingers deeper, curling and thrusting fast enough to make you wail from pleasure you haven't allowed yourself in god knows how long.

It's irritating to be the only one like this. Triumphantly, you finally manage to sneak him out of his trousers, the fabric had been so restraining that he lets out a guttural moan when freed. Throwing his head back onto the couch and wincing with every squeeze and jerk of your soft hand on his sensitive cock.

It's your turn to taunt him. Sneering and laughing quietly when he writhes and cries about how good your hand feels, how he'd love to feel your mouth over it or have you impaled on him. Jaehyun is far weaker than he lets out – nothing new to you.

Was it not for your own desperation and need for release, you'd elongate the sadism. Let him cry for longer about how your hand is not enough despite the pool of pre-come already soiling your hand and his cock.

There's no need for lube, not when his fingers slip out of you and the sea of fluids stain his trousers before pushing them fully off. His pre-come doesn't fall short of a stimulant, so much for such a simple tact. There's nothing grand about this transaction but your bodies know what they want and each other has been written in the stars.

"I don't have a condom…" He pants, a faux attempt at letting morality stop you both. "I'm clean. Abstaining, actually…" You confess, it had not been long since you last had gone to the gyno anyway. Jaehyun's fingers are soft against your lips, his chest slowing down as he hears the meekness in your voice.

"We never have sex without protection and… the last time was months ago." The vulnerability in his voice makes you trust him. Nodding as a response before kissing him again, guiding him for penetration.

He toys with you for seconds, letting his tip graze your folds and slap your clit playfully. Reveling in the hisses you let out. He's so greedy to the point that this isn't enough.

Sheathing himself within you to acquire the pleasure he desires most. It had been so long since you felt this way. The feeling of fullness and completeness. Jaehyun does not fall short with the whines, rather he buries them in your hair, shaking underneath you.

"You feel so good…" He mentions, leaving open mouth kisses along your shoulder while attempting to thrust. His hands reach behind you for stability while you shift in his lap to get comfortable. When he finds a pace you both can work with, Jaehyun throws a thin piece of fabric over you both.

It dawns upon you much later when the tulle feels stuffy and the lacing scratchy that it's your sister's veil. You know it should bother you more, that you should question why it's still here and not with her when the wedding is tomorrow but you don't find it in yourself to care. Not when he's looking at you with an adoration you've never seen and a smile aimed at you and only you.

"You look beautiful." He whispers against your lips, tongue prodding to enter your mouth in one of many kisses he gives you. It's enough to evacuate your head of all these nuisances, focusing on the feel of his cock fucking into you at a steady pace, hips gyrating to allow stimulation to your clit from his pelvic bone.

Whether it's the lack of experience, allowing your body to feel the delicacy of immorality, or he's simply that good, the words cascade from your lips like a mantra. "I'm so close… Fuck, so very closer." You whine against his lips, eyes screwing shut like you're about to cry while holding onto his own shoulders for support.

He smiles, easily wiped away when your hips pick up the pace. Moving up and down his shaft, gyrating as well to follow his lead. From feeling delicious, now he feels like he could come if you did this once more. "I need to feel you coming around me… Y/n, do that for me, please." Jaehyun curses incoherently, his hands holding onto your waist, kneading at the skin but his hands can't stay steady. Rummaging upwards to take your tits into them.

They're softer than earlier. Rubbing circular motions and squeezing when they feel too hot under his touch. Scalding. Thankfully his hips don't fall short in pace. It quickens, his thighs harden under you and it feels like he could give out any second. The sounds he makes surely say so.

"I can feel you ready to explode, Jaehyun." You taunt, seeking his lips and pulling away when he wants to give what you've asked for. His whines turn petulant by the third time. Hand coming off your tit to take a hold of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. The warmth is gone and your nipple perks from the cold and his determination.

"Let me explode… please…" Jaehyun wanted to be more straightforward yet it came out like begging. It's not like you mind, not when you feel yourself three thrusts away from finishing. He drags it on when you don't give him what you want. Thrusting slowly upwards to bury himself completely and pull away to leave the gaping to turn cold before he's back to bottoming out.

He swats your hand away when he feels your nimble fingers attempt to rub at your clit, hissing disapprovingly. "Is my cock not enough?" He scolds, frowning when you shake your head, teasing. His thrusts turn harsher by then, forcing you to throw your head back in pleasure.

"You're too easy to tease." You jest, taking his hands to perch upon your breasts again. "Don't be mean." He winces, bucking upwards at a faster pace. His tongue not missing a single crevice of your neck before nipping the skin. His own form of protest to your mocking.

You giggle at his words, pressing to get his lips near yours. "Make me come, then. Finish me off for good…" Hushedly and deeper, looking directly into his eyes while processing the words. Jaehyun looks at you with every thrust. They're harder by the point you're done speaking and his eyes never peel from yours.

This is far more intimate than any of you had expected or wanted. The feeling of his cock fitting snugly within you is felt ten times more and the friction feels like your nerves are going to burst if he keeps going.

It causes your legs to spasm, arms flailing and weak around him. Every sense overstimulated when you feel him at the hilt, pressing harshly one thrust at a time.

"Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun…"

You cry out, pleasure flooding your entire body that it manifests itself into tears. Louder and harder when you feel him release his warm fluid within your walls. It's a scorching feeling, deliciously overstimulated. Your body is weak and frail against his own, every neuron tingling that it stresses and overwhelms you beyond belief.

But you're crying. You're crying and crying, finally after a week of not being able to let it all out. It's a relief and you can fully understand why your sister is less sad about the reality of your lives.

"Y/n… Y/n! Y/n, are you alright?"

The sincere worry in Jaehyun's voice does not fall short to make you weep even more. You muster a nod, holding his face in your hands while pushing off your sister's veil. It's soiled in sweat, tears, and the smell of sex but it doesn't matter to you right now.

"Are you alright?" He asks again, this time peppering kisses all over your face, holding your body against his for comfort. It's sticky and messy, the sweat reminding you that no matter it being winter, humidity and physical activities don't mix well.

And while your crying doesn't seize, you nod, kissing him instead. "Happy lover boy day. Love was meant to be in your life." You mutter against his lips, your salty tears present with every kiss. Jaehyun sighs, rubbing soothingly against your exposed back before holding you flush against him.

"Than—" and before he can thank you, those same portraits you've been chipping paint from remind you of where you are and who the house belongs to.

It's a horrible crash, the form in which your mother's largest portrait slides down the stairs. Banging against the banisters and breaking the frame into pieces. Wood chips ripping the canvas into large chunks. The last tumble allows it to sway mere feet away from you, glaring for the disgrace you've just committed.

Against your parents, against this sacred home, against the sanctity of a veil, and against your sister. Even in death, your mother's watchful eyes will remain to belittle and judge you.

"Thank you." Jaehyun finishes off, turning your gaze to him and taking your lips into a thankful kiss. Your mother won’t continue to haunt you.

taglist: @ant-onie @cookydream @luv4rj @bacons-thighs @ilikekpop-c @valentinetown @bluedbliss @shiningnono @parkitonandy @the-universe-in-you-jjh @slut4hee @yukisroom97 @ddolbyong @bananinhazz @weiweific @sugaringgcaramel @sweetdreamczennie @revlada @shadysnoopyy @neostraytiny @suhwife @the-divine-femme-fatale @flaminghotyourmom @fatbixchwithanopinion @mi1kteaa @deny4l4 @aliexsblog @fancypeacepersona @saranghoeforanton @sibwol @94vsmonbebe @hchanslut @numberoneprincessenthusiast @ditsydeer101 @bananinhazz

cant tag: @junmyeonssushi @moonlitmousee @ks1ut @kyungsooislifeu @hwangful @toodleeee @squishysweetricecake @jayswifee @lnpwrites @imlonelydontsendhelp

if you want to join the immoral tales taglist, make sure to fill this form!

[ohmytyong-recs]

i have to write an extended comment on this one because it deserves a whole thesis/analysis

WHAT A STORY OMGGGGG this has to definitely be your best work (that i've read) so far in terms of writing, characters, emotional depth and description. so basically everything. it seriously felt like a novel, not like fanfiction at all which i don't know if you intended to but it was so uncomfortably beautiful.

i had put off reading this one because of the heavy themes it deals with, i don't tend to handle death very well but this went beyond that. the complicated family relationships, the on-going cycle of passing on your trauma to your kids, the dreadful realization that you are a reflection of your parent, the memory loss due to trauma, the symbolism of feeling loved by someone in such in an immoral way in order to heal....i could go on for hours talking about it

[sluttyten]

TIP$Y

kinktober 2025 || all member masterlist

day 2: foursome, lingerie, costumes, possessive kink, cum sharing

summary: you meet the three idols by chance at the bar where you work, and the night turns out better than you ever could have dreamed

A pirate, SuperMan, and a god walk into a bar.

It’s not the start of a joke, but your reality. Every weekend in October leading up to Halloween, the bar you work in has a special deal for people who show up in costume, so tonight the bar is filled with people in all sorts of odd dress. Many of them are unrecognizable, but these three are iconic figures, not only because of their costumes but because you recognize their faces from your phone screen.

The god leads the way up to the bar. His skin is already tan, but also glows with a light dusting of golden glitter. His outfit just barely meets the criteria for entry into the bar: a toga-like skirt sits low on his hips, a fine gold chain hugs his waist, dangling a few gems against his defined abs. He’s wearing a dazzlingly white cape as well as a golden shoulder piece shaped like a wing, strapped across his chest in such a way that it covers both of his nipples, thus somehow making what he’s wearing acceptable. Golden laurels sit atop his head, and a bright smile graces his lips. 

Behind him is SuperMan. He’s wearing a cape also. A long red cape flows behind him, and he wears a skintight blue suit emblazoned with the iconic S, and though some men definitely have the pecs and abs and the nether regions padded, something tells you that every bit of what’s showing through the suit is legit. His hair is styled back from his face except one dark coil against his forehead. He offers you a smile too as he comes up beside the god. 

Lastly, the pirate approaches the bar behind his two friends. The first thing you notice about him is the intensity in his eyes ringed in smudged eyeliner. Second is the red scarf tied around the top of his head, his scruffy black hair peeking out beneath, curling against his ears. And then you notice the glimpse of tanned skin beneath the loosened laces at the collar of his flowy white top. From there your eyes wander lower to the fabric knotted around his waist, to the big leather belt with a gold buckle. He’s wearing baggy black pants that are tucked into a nice pair of boots. And lastly, as he reaches the bar and lays a hand on the worn surface, you notice that rings bedeck each of his elegant fingers, leather bands line one wrist while the other is cloth-wrapped. 

Your eyes drag slowly from his fingers back up to his face. 

He smirks. 

“What can I do for you?” You ask, as your job requires. 

They order drinks, you make them, they take them away, but your eyes follow them all night. It’s hard not to stare. Even if you didn’t recognize them, you would still probably be staring. Strangers around the bar keep checking them out too, and there’s this buzz beneath your skin as you count down the seconds to the end of your shift. You’ve got an early night tonight, and you plan to introduce yourself to the sexy trio as soon as you’re off the clock. 

Multiple times throughout the night, they return to the bar for more drinks. They’re charming and flirty, and you’re a flirt right back. That’s what gets you such good tips, and tonight you’re especially hoping to get a good tip or three from them. 

As the end of your shift draws nearer, you flirt a little harder when the pirate approaches the bar. You lean against the bar as you chat with him before getting his drink order, you flutter your eyelashes, giggle, really lay it on as thickly and obviously as you can. You want him to know just how much you want him. You want him to want you too. 

“Hey,” he says as you finish making the next round of their drinks. His hand brushes against yours as you slide them across the bar’s surface. His fingers stroke along the back of your hand, your heart booms in your chest. “I’m Haechan, by the way. What’s your name?”

He has to shout to be heard over the music playing, so to make it easier on him, you lean in close. He turns his ear to you, and your lips touch his ear as you whisper your name. 

You watch his pretty lips form the shape of your name as he repeats it. You nod and smile. “I’m off in, like, twenty minutes, by the way. If you’re interested.”

The Lee Haechan, the man of your dreams, your bias from your favorite group. He fucking bites his lip, and nods. “Twenty minutes?”

“Twenty,” you confirm. 

He takes the drinks and returns to the table where the other two sit. 

You take a deep breath. Play it cool. This is your shot. 

The majority of the next twenty minutes consists of fulfilling a bachelorette party’s orders, completing your tasks before the end of your shift, casting glances at the trio in the corner. 

It’s in the literal last minute of your shift, that you look in their direction, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. They’re gone. Table vacant. 

“Hey!” Someone calls, followed by your name. 

You whip around towards the sound, and there’s Haechan waving at you. Superman and the god right behind him. Fuck. 

As soon as you’re in front of them, Haechan waves the other two closer. He pokes his finger into the Superman S as he says, “This is Jeno. And this is Jaemin,” he gestures at Jaemin with all of his bare golden skin. 

Play it cool, you remind yourself. Don’t let on how much you know about them. 

“We wanna pay our bill,” Jeno leans closer, resting his arm on the bar in a way that makes his biceps flex, visible through the thin material of the supersuit. 

“And we wanted to catch you before you leave, make sure you get a tip from us. You’ve taken good care of us tonight,” Jaemin adds. 

You really, truly hope it’s not just your imagination creating a delusion. You swear they’re all three looking at you with fuck-me eyes.

Quickly, you take care of their bill, obsessed with the way that Jeno puts his card down without even glancing at the total on the ticket. You enter it into the system, return the card and the bill, and watch as Jeno scrawls his signature, lays down a nice cash tip, and then he throws in a wink for free. 

Haechan’s hand grazes yours as he passes you the signed copy of the receipt. “You’re off now, yeah? You should come hang out with us. We’ll be over at our table. I know you know where it is; you’ve been watching us all night.”

You can’t even be mad that he called you out. He’s right. You have been watching them all night. You turn away to close out their bill. You try not to drool as you pocket the large tip that Jeno left. That tip alone is more than you’ve received tonight and last night from all of your customers. You say goodnight to your coworkers, to a couple regulars you like, and then you clock out.

In the back, you change out of your bartender uniform which is just a basic low cut black top and shorts. You change into something a lot nicer and cuter, an outfit you’d brought because you’d been planning to go out tonight after your shift anyway. A short little dress, silky and pretty. A pair of heels. You’d done your hair and makeup before your shift, and they’ve both held up well enough that you just have to touch up your makeup a little bit, tuck a few loose strands of hair back into place, and then you close your bag in your work locker and take just a little clutch with you back out into the bar.

Jaemin spots you walking their way first. 

His jaw drops, eyes making a couple trips along the length of your body. He knocks his hand against Jeno’s arm, and that’s when Jeno finally spots you too.

Haechan has his back to you, but upon seeing the expressions on the others faces, he turns at last. He whistles, impressed as you swing around the side of the table to drop into the only open seat. The pride and inside you at ensnaring their attention only grows when Jeno immediately leans across the table, sliding a shot your way. 

“I can’t,” you quickly say, nudging the drink back towards him. “I’m not allowed to drink here on or off the clock.” The boss’ rules because he doesn’t want staff drinking up the inventory or getting sloppy with their pours. 

Jaemin pouts a little. Haechan looks you over. Jeno nods and takes the shot for himself, tossing it back. 

“Let’s get out of here,” you suggest, raising your voice to be heard. “There’s a place down the street. They’ve got better drinks, better music, better dancing.”

Haechan takes your hand. “Let’s dance, then.” He stands, ready to leave immediately, and then seems to remember the other two. “Are you coming?”

Jeno and Jaemin exchange looks, and then they’re rising to their feet as well. 

You feel powerful as you walk out of the bar with all three of them in tow. You feel like an enchantress, a seductress as they tag along, all three trying to keep close to you. Haechan’s hand touches your waist a couple times on the way out. Jaemin opens the door for you to leave, and he offers his hand to help you down the three steps to the sidewalk. Jeno adorably offers you his cape to ward off the slight chill in the air as you walk along to the bar down the street. 

The bouncer at the next bar is a friend of yours, and he lets you in with no problem. You’re buzzing, high on the fact that you’re in the company of three of your idols, that all three seem to be into you. Everything in the bar blurs in your memory, coated in a pretty purple haze of lights and drinks and dancing. You talk with Jeno and Jaemin a bit while waiting for Haechan to return with the drinks, and when he comes back, you loop him into the conversation as well. 

You like them even more now as you get to know them beyond the idol personas that you’re so familiar with. You like them as genuine guys; you’re attracted to each one of them as you would be to any ordinary man that catches your eye.

You feel electric, aroused, and the bias you’d had towards Haechan before knowing him as more than just Haechan is impossibly worse now, although Jaemin and Jeno are both making solid attempts at wrecking you. 

“I thought you wanted to dance?” Jeno asks. “Do you want to dance?” 

And then you’re out on the dance floor. Jeno and you and Jaemin and Haechan. You like the heat and weight of their bodies against yours as you dance with all three of them; Jeno’s hands on your waist, Jaemin in front of you. Haechan dances beside you by himself, watching the three of you in a way that has you itching to be alone with them. You want to see what Haechan would do if there wasn’t a crowd around you. 

It’s Jaemin that kisses you first.

You can’t keep your hands off of him, and he’s been devouring you with his eyes for what feels like hours, and finally he breaks. Jaemin surges forward and kisses you.

Jeno holds your hips tighter, grinding against your ass. Haechan moves closer, you feel the heat of him now against your side while you and Jaemin lose yourselves in each other. 

You’ve had two shots tonight, but you’re feeling intoxicated as Jaemin deepens the kiss. You’re drunk on the fact that you’re kissing Jaemin, buzzed because Jeno is grinding against you, and when Haechan makes a disgruntled noise, you break the kiss to grin at him. 

“Did you want some too?” You tease. “Or do you not want to be seen engaging in this… public indecency?”

“I’d definitely rather be some place private, angel.” Haechan cups your cheek, his eyes lower to your lips. “I want you all to myself, but if you want Jeno and Jaemin, I’m willing to share for just a piece of you.”

Jeno laughs. “You’re not very good at sharing, Donghyuck.”

“For her, I’m willing to be.” Haechan strokes your cheek with his thumb.

He doesn’t even know you, not like that, not enough to already be so obsessed with you that he’s ready to change himself just to keep you. But god damn, if that doesn’t go straight to your head. 

“Take me home, then,” you demand, untangling yourself from Superman and god-like Jaemin. “I want to see you three out of these ridiculous costumes.”

“Ridiculous?” Jaemin drapes his arm over your shoulders. “I thought we looked pretty sexy.”

No, they absolutely are sexy too, but they’re also totally ridiculous. “The point is, I’d rather see you out of it.”

“Then let’s go.” Jeno starts to move, taking your hand, he seats you away from the other two, weaving through the crowd, making for the exit. You flick a look back over your shoulder, catching sight of the god and the pirate trailing behind you. 

They catch up with you and Jeno outside. He’s already hailed a cab, and as he rushes you towards the backseat of the car, you can’t help wondering if he’s hoping to steal you from his groupmates. But then he’s holding the door open as Haechan ducks in, Jaemin squeezes in on Haechan’s other side, and Jeno shuts the door to the backseat before he takes the passenger seat beside the driver. 

He rattles off an address, but you’re not even listening. 

As soon as Haechan slid in beside you, his hands were on you, first under the guise of helping you buckle your seatbelt, and then a hand on your thigh. That’s all it took for you to twist in the seat, to put your hands on him, to draw him in for a kiss. You tangle together in the backseat. One of your legs somehow ends up draped across his thighs, stretching over into Jaemin’s lap. Haechan tips you back against the window, halfway on top of you while you each moan into the kiss. 

You’re so pleased when Haechan sneaks a hand beneath your dress. His hands are warm, but the icy bite of his rings on your heated skin drives you wild. You clutch him a little closer, spread your legs a little more. 

“Can I finger you?” He breathes against your lips, his fingers already dancing over your panties. 

“Yeah,” you gasp, rolling your hips up against his fingers. 

He wastes no time in dragging your panties aside so he can touch you right here in the backseat. You take a quick peek around, noticing that Jeno is twisted around in the front seat to be able to watch, and Jaemin is also leaning forward to try to see you around Haechan. 

Haechan keeps kissing you, the best way to keep you at least a little quiet as he slicks his fingers up with the arousal gathered between your legs. His wet fingers glide in circles against your clit, and your legs try to close, but Haechan’s body is wedged between your thighs now. He makes a small amused sound as you squirm, and a moan of desire when you drape your arms over his shoulders and push your fingers through his scruffy hair, tugging each time that his fingers meet that sweet spot inside you. 

You cum, gasping against Haechan’s lips, clutching at his shoulders while you clench around his fingers. You don’t even care that there are definitely three other men watching — there’s no way that the driver hasn’t become brutally aware of what’s happening in the backseat. 

He stays pressed against you, sloppily making out until the car slows and comes to a complete stop. Jaemin grabs a handful of Haechan’s shirt and jerks him away from you. 

“We’re here.” Jaemin pushes the door open, drags Haechan over his lap, and forces him out the door. More gently, Jaemin reaches over to you. He helps you straighten your dress, and then he offers you his hand as he helps you out of the backseat. 

You think you must be at one of their apartments. You don’t care whose, you just care about getting upstairs and having the three of them alone. 

Your wish is their command, and it seems like you're instantly whisked upstairs. The elevator ride is a blur of Jeno and Jaemin fighting over kissing you, stealing you away from each other, leaving you dazed and drunk on their kisses. 

You’re corralled towards an apartment, all three of them with their hands on you. Jaemin pushes the door open, leading the way inside, but it’s Superman that lifts you and carries you over the threshold and towards a bedroom. Your pirate chases after him, intent on getting his treasure. 

Jeno lowers you onto a bed, and you lean back on your hands to look at him. He stands before you in his silly, sexy costume. The tight blue material really hugs and accentuates his muscles, highlighting his chest and abs and the growing bulge between his legs. 

He reaches up to his shoulders, quickly unfastening the gaudy red cape from his shoulders. It flows to the floor. 

You eye him expectantly, but the rest of the outfit doesn’t come off, so then you’re left looking for hidden seams. You want to touch him, to feel his muscles beneath your fingertips, but you can’t figure out if his outfit is really all one piece or if you might be able to slip your fingers beneath a near-invisible hem. 

Haechan hovers near the door. He flicks the switch on the wall, and a lamp on the bedside table comes on, providing a warm romantic glow. Haechan remains right there, jewelry glinting in the low light, and his smudged eyes look even more sultry and starved. 

Jeno touches just beneath your chin, drawing your focus back to him. His dark gaze searches yours, checking for any sign of hesitation. 

“Do you want us?” Jeno checks aloud. “D’you want all three of us?”

You grasp his wrist, hold his gaze. “Yes, Jeno. I want you. All three of you.” You dip your head, part your lips, and without breaking eye contact, you take his thumb into your mouth. 

Jeno’s mouth falls open slightly, riveted on the sight of his thumb between your lips, enraptured by the wet heat of your tongue swiping against the pad of his finger. He pulls his thumb out, instead giving you his pointer and middle finger. 

Diligently, you suck the digits, bobbing your head. 

Haechan curses beside the doorway. 

Jeno drops to his knees in front of the bed, his hands both go to your thighs. There’s something about the saliva-slick feeling of his fingers burning against your thigh as he slides your dress up that just gets you outrageously turned on. Jeno grips your hips, jerking you closer to the edge of the bed, almost to the point that you could slip off, but then he drapes your thighs over his shoulders, and Jeno looks up at you with his handsome face framed between your legs. 

“Can I taste you?” He asks. 

“Fuck, yes,” you moan. 

That’s all the go-ahead Jeno needs. He pulls your panties to the side, and he dives right in. 

The first swipe of his tongue along your slit is electric. 

You throw one hand behind you, your back arching as you try to angle your hips against Jeno’s face as he just fucking goes for it. There’s no light teasing with his tongue, he just goes fully in, starved for the taste of you. 

You curl your other hand against the back of his head as moans burst from your mouth, holding him there while his tongue does incredibly wicked things. 

Jaemin enters the room then, still glittering and golden and godly, though he appears to have left the golden shoulder piece and the chest straps elsewhere. He grins at the sight before him — you writhing against Jeno, nearly sitting on his face instead of the bed as he kneels in front of you. The door closes behind him, and he leans back against it, biceps bulging as he folds his arms across his chest. 

Your heart is racing too loudly in your ears for you to be able to make out what Jaemin and Haechan are saying to each other across the room, but when you can manage to pull your gaze from Jeno’s face between your legs, you spot the pair smirking and talking to each other, likely plotting. 

Your moans only increase in pitch and volume when Jeno slides two fingers in along with his tongue. You curl forward, both of your hands now fucking up his hair. Your thighs tremble, and your orgasm bursts, popping and flooding through you — you only have it in you to feel the tiniest bit embarrassed at the increased slurping sound coming from Jeno as he tries to lick up every ounce of your sweet climax. 

You flop back onto the bed, and Jeno carefully untangles himself from your thighs. He gets to his feet, wipes his hand across the back of his mouth, and then starts licking clean his fingers. 

“How was that?” He asks after a moment. 

“Super,” you sigh, and then your eyes focus behind him on the other two in the room. “What’s next?”

Haechan chuckles, pushing away from the wall. “It’s probably only fair that Jaeminnie has a turn touching you. Now that Jeno and I have both made you cum, I mean.”

How many orgasms are they planning to give you tonight? You haven’t touched any of them yet, and you’ve already cum twice. You’re honestly not sure how much more you can take; you’ve never had even one partner that was generous enough to give you more than two orgasms in one session, and this is quickly promising to be several more than two. 

“Or do you need a little break to recover, kitten?” Jeno asks, stroking your knee. “D’you wanna have your turn to play with one of us?”

You nod. 

“Who will it be?” Jaemin asks. “You should repay one of them first.” He inclines his head towards his two companions. 

A small part of you sinks at Jaemin’s words. Does he not want you? Is that why he’s encouraging you to help the other two? But maybe he would prefer to watch, maybe that’s the kind of foreplay that Jaemin likes. He stays fixed against the door, watching the situation unfold. 

“Who do you want next, Princess,” Jaemin asks again. 

You bite your lip and appraise the men in front of you. 

You want them all. But your eyes return to Haechan, that exposed triangle of chest has your body tingling with heat. He is your bias in the group, the man you’ve had dirty dreams about on lonely nights. But then there’s Jeno with his muscles that show even through the blue fabric of his costume, Jeno whose fingers are still stroking your knee. 

The phrase “save the best for last” rises to the forefront of your mind. Haechan is the sweet treat that you’ve wanted a taste of for the longest time. He’s the one that you’ve been most looking forward to since the three of them walked up to you at the bar tonight. You want to take your time savoring him later. 

“Jeno,” you answer finally. “I want you first.”

Jeno smiles, his eyes crinkling. “And what do you want to do with me, hmm?”

You sit up, scooting closer. Jeno stands between your legs. Both of you are gazes locked, arousal hot and electric between you as you raise your hands to his crotch. You cup the bulge, stroking over Jeno’s erection until he gives a particularly intense throb, and his boner just kinda pops into a prominent tent. 

“No underwear?" You ask. 

“Panty lines in this outfit? No way.” Jeno answers surprisingly smoothly as you stroke him. 

“Quite risky if you were to get hard in public though.” You press one hand flat against his belly, and Jeno takes a step back and then another. “I wanna suck you off. May I, Jeno?”

He nods eagerly, his words failing him as he makes enough room for you to slide off the bed to your knees. 

You're face to face now with the tent in the front of his costume. There’s still no obvious way for you to get him undressed, but you don’t really mind at the moment, instead you decide to tease. 

You put your hands to his thighs and lean in, lapping your tongue against the bulbous shape of Jeno’s tip. He’s already leaking pre-cum, the material tinged with the taste of it. You keep going, hands stroking his thighs as you make out with his clothed cock. And Jeno is losing his goddamn mind, moaning for you, his hips twitching as he tries and fails to restrain himself. 

You suck the tip of his thick cock, lick along the length of it, and then you wrap your hands around him and stroke while still kissing and licking and sucking at the tip. 

“Fuck, I wanna cum in your mouth,” Jeno groans, bucking forward into your touch. “I need out of this costume. Now.”

He reaches around behind himself, and you don’t stop touching him even while he struggles to reach the zipper at his back. Haechan eventually steps up to help, and then the blue bodysuit slips down Jeno’s shoulders and chest. Haechan helps push it down.

You back off only long enough to tug the fabric down to Jeno’s thighs. The moment his big, thick cock springs free, you engulf him with your mouth. 

To your surprise and delight, Haechan buries his hands in your hair, still offering a helping hand as he pushes you to take more of Jeno. 

You let him. Pleased to have his hands on you while you’re sucking off another man. 

Together you and Haechan keep a good rhythm. You brace your hands on Jeno’s thighs, and soon you don’t even have to move your head anymore. Haechan holds you in place while Jeno’s fingers overlap his, and Jeno fucks your face, his restraint weakening the longer he’s exposed to the sweet, warm suction of your lips. 

Jeno’s orgasm is intense. He erupts over the back of your tongue, spilling down your throat, though he’s still leaking as he pulls back, getting some of his cum dripping from your bottom lip which you quickly clean up. 

Jeno collapses to kneel with you, his hands on your face as he drags you in for a kiss, licking into your mouth like he doesn’t care that you taste of his cum. You cup his jaw, loving the strength there, the sharpness of his jaw, the way you can feel him opening up more to kiss you deeper, the way he moans. 

“This is cute watching you make out like this,” Haechan says, “But do you think I could get in on it?”

Jeno withdraws, climbing back to his feet, and he pulls the Superman costume back up around his hips, though he leaves his top half exposed. It takes a decent amount of willpower to pull your hungry gaze away from his bared chest and abs, but you then look up and realize that Jaemin has come closer. He’s not hugging the edges of the room anymore, but now stands in all his godly glory just a couple feet away. 

The low light of the room really makes Jaemin look as if he’s entirely gilded in gold, and as you’re already kneeling, you feel like a humble devotee ready to worship at the feet of your god. 

Jaemin takes another step closer, magnetized by the hunger in your eyes. 

“I need to see you out of that dress, angel,” Haechan says, suddenly breaking your trance. He moves into your line of sight, and you’re once again struck by the realization that this is Haechan, the Lee Haechan. Fuck the person that said never meet your idols, you’re currently surrounded by three of them, and you couldn’t be happier. 

“Why don’t you take it off of me?” You suggest as you smoothly rise to your feet in front of him. But then you flick a look over his shoulder. “Or Jaemin, since you haven’t touched me yet.”

Haechan slides closer, his hand curving against your waist. “Forget Jaeminnie. You have me.”

You pray he can’t feel how hard your heart starts pounding at those words. But your chest meets his as Haechan reels you in, your heart racing as Haechan bumps his fingers beneath your chin, tilting your face towards his, and he angles his mouth against yours, teasing his tongue between your lips as you part them to gasp.  

Haechan’s fingers dance up your spine, rising up the line of the zipper until he reaches the tab at the top. You moan, curling your fingers in the front of his flowy shirt, trying to pull him impossibly closer. He has the audacity to smirk as he’s kissing you, far too amused with the reactions he’s drawing from you as he continues to kiss you, as he slowly draws the zipper down. 

Slowly, so slowly. 

Everything Haechan does right now is done slowly. Like molasses, sweet and syrupy and slow as fuck. 

“Stop being a tease, and just strip me, Lee Haechan!” You hiss against his lips. 

He falters then, just for a split second, and then he does exactly as you’d asked. 

The back of your dress comes apart as Haechan rips the zipper the rest of the way undone. His hands push at the straps on your shoulders, pulling down on the fabric, and you shimmy to help Haechan slide the dress off of you. It poops around your feet, and somewhere in the back of your mind you register the sound of Jaemin and Jeno making pleased sounds at what they see. 

The lacy black lingerie fits you so well. It makes your tits look great, and the little panties leave very little to the imagination.

When you’d put them on earlier before heading in for your shift, it was just because you knew you usually get better tips when your tits look like this in the low-cut top you’d worn for your shift. Plus, you’d know that you were planning to go out after work. You never imagined that tonight would be going like this, that the payoff for the sexy lingerie would be so rewarding. 

You press closer to Haechan. You curve a hand around the back of his neck, weaving your fingers through his scruffy hair as you deepen the kiss. 

He touches you too. His hands rove across your back, down to your tailbone where his pinky finger teases beneath the top edge of your panties. And then you feel another hand on you, sliding up your back, between your shoulders, over the back of your neck, and into your hair, mirroring the way you’re touching Haechan. But the difference is that this is Jaemin, and his intention is to steal you away from Haechan. 

Jaemin wins the fight for your focus easily. All it takes is a firm tug to your hair, and you break away from Haechan’s lips with a moan, turning dazedly towards Jaemin. 

“You look gorgeous, baby girl. Can I have a turn?” Jaemin asks, leaning in just close enough that his lips almost touch yours, just barely out of reach. 

“Jaemin,” you sigh his name in the moment before his mouth takes yours. Your brain is trying to float away on the blissed-out feeling of kissing him while also feeling his hands, Haechan’s hands, and Jeno’s hands on your body — they’re touching you everywhere and yet not where you need them. You don’t even know which of them is touching you at any one time, just that one of them has a hand in your hair (Jaemin?), one of them is groping your ass (Jeno?), and one of them is tugging one side of your bra down to wrap his lips around your nipple (god, you hope it’s Haechan).

Your body is buzzing and warm, hot arousal surging through you again, soaking the delicate fabric of your panties. The wet heat at your tit is funneling straight to your core; he’s sucking at your sensitive nipple, tongue flicking the peak, and hot pleasure burns through you until you’re breaking the kiss with Jaemin to moan and look down. 

Your wish is granted by the sight of Haechan’s full lips at your chest. His dark eyes flash to yours for an instant before sinking shut again. He presses a hand to your lower back, tugging you a little closer, and you slide a hand against the back of his head, arching your chest forward. 

Jeno moves his hand from your ass, tracing the line of your panties to the front, and he teases his fingers over your clothed slit. “She’s so wet,” he announces to the other two as he circles his finger over your clit. He tugs the fabric of your panties to the side, giving himself free access to directly touch you. The small whimper that leaves you makes Jeno chuckle softly before he kisses your shoulder, and he says, “Do you want more, kitten?”

You nod. “I need more. Fuck, Haechan!” His teeth scraped your nipple, and with the combination of that electric jolt and Jeno’s finger drawing tight circles over your clit, you feel weak. 

Jaemin places his hand to your cheek, turning your face back towards him. “You’re not tired of foreplay are you, princess? The three of us have never shared well, but I think we could spend a few hours worshiping you together. Just tell us what you want, what you need.”

Truthfully, you want to get fucked by any one of them. But you also know that if tonight is it, if you never get the chance to be with any of them again, you have so much that you want to do. The bed is right there beside you, and you would happily let them throw you onto it and fuck you seven ways from Sunday, but then you’d be over and done with, worn out and unable to have your fill of them. 

“I need—“ Your words break off with a moan as Haechan again catches your nipple lightly between his teeth. “I want to suck your cock, Jaemin. You’re a god tonight, and I’ve been ready to worship you since you walked into my bar.”

“Then get on your knees and worship me, baby.” Jaemin’s words are heavy and hot, melting your core and weighing you down. You sink straight to the floor, kneeling with your ass on your heels.

Your bra cup is still tugged down below the breast that Haechan was ravaging, the strap has slid down over your shoulder too. Your lips feel kiss-swollen. Your panties are still tugged to the side too. You know you probably look a mess, a sexy love drunk mess. The fact that you have three men towering over you with raging hard-ons doesn’t help the image. 

At least you’re not alone in looking so undone. Jeno is still half-naked with the top of his costume slung around his hips. He’s lowered his hand down to stroke his returning erection as he drinks in the sight of you on your knees again. Haechan is also somewhat ruffled. The scarf tied around his head is askew, his shirt has come partially untucked, the laces of it are doing a shit job of holding the front together, and you can see the bulge in the front of his pants, though he makes no move to touch himself right now. 

And then you gaze up at Jaemin. 

The waist chain, the toga skirt, and the laurel crown are all still in place. He looks unfazed, still entirely put together. Cool and collected, though the glimmer in his eyes hints at the lust-fueled inferno blazing inside him. 

“Go on, princess. You want to worship me, go ahead.” Jaemin folds his arms across his chest. He nudges your knee with his foot. “Be good for me, and I’ll even give you a bath in my godly nectar.”

“Oh my god,” Jeno moans from behind you. 

Haechan snorts with suppressed laughter. 

You accept Jaemin’s invitation, and you begin your worship. 

You take it slow. Your hands wander up his thighs, feeling the thick muscle there. You touch your lips to his toned abdomen right above the top edge of the toga skirt, kiss up his abs, pausing to tug the waist chin between your teeth, and you kiss higher, rising to your feet so you can reach his chest, licking and sucking your way up towards his throat. 

As soon as you reach his collarbones, Jaemin flattens a hand to your shoulder, pushing your back. “No marks. Not anywhere visible.”

Of course, you should’ve thought about that. All three need to be careful about having visible hickeys. Not that they know that you know that. 

You start your way back down, hands and mouth touching everywhere. Your fingers brush the front of his skirt, and you suck in a sharp breath as you feel the shape of Jaemin’s erection. Fuck, he’s going to fill your mouth so well. 

Your knees hit the floor with a thud, and you reach for the skirt, brushing the white fabric aside. 

You freeze in awe-filled wonder. 

Jaemin is wearing a god-damned golden thong. Your mouth waters. The barely-there material hugs his balls, barely covers his erection, and the tip of his cock is sticking out the top of the band. 

You rock forward, not even bothering to use your hands as you suck the tip into your mouth. Jaemin lets out a short sound of surprise, but then he falls quiet again as you push your mouth around his tip, fumbling your fingers against the thong to pull it down more, to free more of his cock which you eagerly sink your throat onto. 

It’s so easy to lose yourself in sucking Jaemin’s cock. He fills your throat, weighing down your tongue, the taste of him blooms on the back of your tongue — not bitter or overly salty, but just right. You’re gagging for him, pushing yourself to take all of him in until your nose is pressed to his abdomen, your lips tight around the base of his cock. 

You suck him off without the use of your hands. Your ears are filled with the wet sound of your mouth moving on him, your heart pounding, and your own moans and the occasional choking sound, but Jaemin seems to love it. You can feel him growing harder on your tongue, his precum leaking down the back of your throat. 

But when you open your eyes to look up at him one of the times that you’ve pulled back to just his tip, he still has that infuriatingly cool look. He’s not breaking for you, not moaning or looking weakened by your efforts, and his arms are still folded across his chest. 

You hold his gaze as you kiss the tip of his cock, as you slide your tongue down the length of him, chasing his cock when it twitches, and then you take him in again, bobbing your head on just about half of him. There is an unspoken challenge here as you stop deep-throating him as you’d been doing, now you just stick to the tip or about halfway along his length, teasing him by not taking more. 

And when that still doesn’t work, you sink back onto your heels, letting his cock fall from your mouth entirely. 

His erection juts out from the toga skirt obscenely, the white fabric drapes over his length with the tip visible, pointing towards your lips. 

You touch yourself, hands sliding down your body to the place where your panties are still pulled aside. You’re dripping wet, a small puddle has formed on the floor beneath you, and you know that all three of these men (who are all watching you closely, enraptured by your every move) can hear the wet slick sound as you plunge your fingers inside yourself. 

You want to see Jaemin break. 

But it’s Jeno that breaks first. You hear his costume hit the floor, and when you look, he’s fully naked, hand wrapped around his cock as he jerks off to the sight of you fingering yourself. You moan his name, grind down on your fingers, and lift your gaze back to Jaemin. 

There. You see it. A weakening in his facade. 

All it takes is you licking your lips, leaning forward so your mouth just barely brushes his tip as you moan again, this time with his name on your tongue. 

Jaemin’s hands are there immediately. One hand on your head, the other on his cock as he guides himself between your lips. 

Satisfaction thrums deep inside you as Jaemin fucks your face, his cock sliding over your tongue, balls slapping your chin, your spit dripping everywhere. You keep finger-fucking yourself, moaning around his cock, gagging, and sputtering for air when he lets up even slightly. You’re dripping down your hand, your thighs are wet, and your ears are filled with the buzzing sound of approaching overstimulation. 

And then something touches your cheek. A hand? Something warm and damp. A tongue? No. 

Jeno’s moans break through the buzzing in your head. He jerks off with the tip of his cock against your cheek. 

He cums with a cry of your name. Jeno’s semen stripes across your cheek and nose, some lands across your eyebrow, and more of it drips down to your lips where Jaemin is still fucking into your mouth. 

Your orgasm washes through you suddenly. Your pussy clamps around your fingers, wishing they were a cock. 

Jaemin groans and pulls back, his hand flies along his length, and you kneel there with your mouth held open, eyes closed as the god before you blesses you with a shower of his cum. His pearly cum joins Jeno’s on your upturned face. 

And before you can catch your breath or collect your thoughts to start trying to get any of it, you feel two men kneeling on the floor with you, tongues and lips working to clean the cum off of you. And they kiss you, feeding you the cum they clean up. It’s messy and hot, and you feel a strange background sense of rightness that comes from the fangirl part of you knowing that this is Jeno and Jaemin not caring that they’re lowkey making out with each other while making out with you. 

Your hands run over their strong, muscular bodies, holding them close to you as they finish pushing cum between your lips with their tongues. 

When they finish, backing away, you’re absolutely breathless. Jaemin dips back in for another kiss, and then he rises to his feet. 

“That was incredible, baby.” He runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “Thank you.”

Oh god, the heady rush you get from that. You’re dizzy and still aroused. Jaemin just thanked you for sucking his cock. And now he withdraws and walks away without another word, leaving the bedroom altogether. 

Jeno pets your hair, and he leans back in to kiss you softly a few more times. 

“Jeno-yah!” Jaemin calls from the hallway. “If you’re finished in there, do you want to come shower?”

Jeno kisses you one last time, and when he stands up, he smiles down at you. “That was really, really fucking hot. I’m so glad we met you tonight.”

“Me too,” you murmur, your words slurring just a little bit. God, you’re really cock-drunk right now. Your lips feel swollen and your eyelids are heavy. You’re tired. “Thank you, Jeno.” 

He laughs and pats your head again. “What’re you thanking me for?”

And then he’s going too. 

You turn to look at Haechan who is now leaning back on the edge of the bed, looking down at the mess that is you on the floor. 

You crawl forward, hand sliding up his leg as you whine, “Hyuck, you too. Want you too.”

Before you can reach the front of his pants, Haechan covers your hand with his. His grip is heavy and tight, but you don’t try to pull away. 

“You know who we are, don’t you?” He asks, his voice low and steady. “You’re a fan?”

Is there any point denying it?

You nod. “I am.”

An odd look passes over his eyes, but he lets go of your hand. “I figured. You used my family name earlier, and I didn’t remember telling you. And you just called me Hyuck, which I definitely didn’t tell you is a nickname for my real name.”

You feel heat wash through you, embarrassed heat rather than aroused. “I’m sorry.”

Haechan shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry.”

You blink up at him. Oddly, there are tears gathering in your eyes. “I am sorry, though. I should’ve told you from the start that I knew who you were. It was deceptive of me to pretend like I didn’t.” A couple tears spill over, racing down your cheek. 

Haechan is there, his thumb catching the tears. “It’s alright. You being a fan doesn’t change anything. It maybe just explains why you were so quick to agree to coming home with the three of us despite only knowing us for, like, an hour.”

His thumb drags across your skin. Your tongue darts out, brushing the pad of his thumb, tasting the saltiness of your tears. You blink slowly up at him, and Haechan presses in through your lips. He gently hooks his thumb behind your bottom row of teeth, and you close your lips around his thumb, circling the tip of it with your tongue, tasting your own tears mixed with the last remnants of Jaemin and Jeno’s cum there. 

“Can I fuck you?” He asks. “It’s okay if you’ve had enough, you can tell me no.” 

You hold Haechan’s gaze as you dumbly suck on his thumb. 

“You did already cum a few times, so I wouldn’t blame you if you were ready to be done,” he says, and there’s the beginning of a rambly tone to his voice as he continues, “Jeno and Jaemin both fucked your face pretty good, too, so like, I didn’t think you’d probably want to suck me off either. And I know you kinda focused on the pair of them, which is fine, like a lot of the fans really love them. They’re hot and have great bodies, so I know that there’s a lot of lust there when it comes to how people view them, whereas with me, I don’t really have that same physique or sex appeal, so what I’m saying is, you can just tell me no, like if you didn’t want me to be here or if you’re not attracted to me like—“

You push off the floor and climb into his lap, cutting him off with your mouth against his before the Lee Haechan can say another bad word about himself. 

He grunts as his shoulders hit the bed, but his hands rise up to your hips. 

You kiss him deeply, muffling any more of his negative words against himself. You try to pour your emotions into the kiss, to show him the truth about how much you want him. You grind down against the bulge in his pants, you reach for his hands to drag them up to your tits again. 

When your hands wander down his chest to the waistband of his pants, Haechan makes a short sound, and when you dip your fingers into the waistband to try untucking his shirt the rest of the way, he breaks the kiss. 

“I— like I know I’ve never really shown my stomach,” Haechan quickly says, “So you don’t probably have any expectations, but I’m not built the same as Jeno and Jaemin.” 

Anger flares in your chest, not aimed at Haechan, but rather at whatever has happened in his past to make him feel like he needs to slap a warning label on himself, that he needs to give you a disclaimer before you can unwrap him. 

You sit back in his lap and level him with a piercing look. “I don’t care what they look like. The muscles are nice, sure, but I don’t care. They’re not the reason I agreed to come home with you three tonight. You are. I want you, Haechan. Maybe you feel like I was favoring them earlier, but I was saving the best for last. My mom always told me to savor my dessert, and that’s exactly what I’ve been planning to do with you all night.” 

You move your hands to the big buckle on the belt Haechan’s wearing, a gaudy costume-y belt perfect for a pirate. You undo it, and quickly jerk the belt out from around Haechan’s hips because it’s in the way of the treasure you seek. It hits the floor behind you with a clang. 

“By the way,” you tell him as you tug the flowy shirt out from the waistband. “I’ve always had a thing for pirates, so when you walked up to me at the bar tonight, you were straight out of one of my steamy fantasies.”

A smirk graces Haechan’s lips now, and the presence of that cocky expression is so satisfying to you. Moments ago he was dogging on himself, but now he’s back to confidence, and that is so hot. 

You push his shirt up towards his chest, and at last see so much more of his bare skin. You almost faceplant against his belly in your rush to get your mouth on him. His belly is definitely not the toned definition that Jaemin and Jeno have. Haechan’s is soft and you love that even more. You love the way that he huffs out a soft laugh, squirming a bit as your hair tickles his belly while you’re kissing up from his navel towards his chest. You like that your fingers have something to hold onto as you run your hands up his sides. 

“I know earlier he said no marks,” you murmur against Haechan’s sternum. “But you never show skin, anyway. Can’t I leave just a little reminder of me?”

His fingers comb through your hair. “Yeah, sure, angel.”

Haechan is rock hard beneath your hips, his cock twitching as you circle your hips while you start to suck at his chest to leave him with a hickey. Haechan’s head falls back with a moan. 

You keep going like this for a few minutes: the grinding, the licking and biting, his hands groping your ass and hips. Until he speaks up. 

“I’m gonna cum in my pants soon if we don’t stop,” Haechan admits, “And you never gave me an answer on if you want to actually have sex with me.”

“Yes, I do!”

The words are barely out of your lips before Haechan flips things over. He’s got you pinned on your back beneath him, your thighs spread around his hips. You catch a glimpse of the mark you’ve left on his chest before it’s covered by his shirt falling back into place around his chest.  

You try to sit up just a little, try to reach around for the class of your bra, but Haechan stops you. 

“Ah, no,” Haechan denies, grabbing your hand with one of his. “I want you to leave it on, angel. I want to ruin you in your pretty lingerie.”

“Oh, absolutely. And are you leaving your clothes on, too?” You pluck at the laces on his shirt with the hand he doesn’t have in his hold. “Gonna take me hard and fast, so eager to be inside me that you’re unable to undress first? Bet you can’t wait to bury your cock inside me, can you? My pussy's been waiting for your cock since you made me cum in the car.”

Haechan cocks an eyebrow at you while unfastens his pants with one hand. “I bet you’ve been waiting longer than that. You’ve wanted my cock for months, for years maybe. Since the day you became my fan, this pussy has been mine.”

A moan explodes out of you. You liked that. You liked it a lot. 

“Say it again, Haechan.” You curl your hand at the side of his neck, roll your hips against his erection. 

“Say it again?” He teases. “You like that, angel? Does it turn you on to hear me call you mine?”

The front of his pants come undone, and at last Haechan frees his cock. You whimper at the sight, pussy wet and throbbing, ready to be filled and claimed by the man you’ve called yours. 

Haechan taps the head of his cock against your clit. Fire erupts inside your belly, and you need him more than you’ve needed anything else tonight. “Please,” you whine, rocking your hips, “Haechan, say it.”

“You’re mine, angel,” Haechan says as he presses his tip inside you. “All mine,” he moans, sliding deeper inside you, his body sinking over yours. 

When you clocked in for your shift at the bar earlier this evening, you never once imagined you’d be ending your night having sucked off two members of NCT Dream and being dicked down raw by your favorite member, having him repeatedly tell you that your pussy belongs to him, and when he kisses you he tells you, “This mouth is mine too. Jeno and Jaemin had their fun earlier, but no more. Why is that, angel?”

“I’m yours,” you moan against Haechan’s lips. “All yours.”

You lose yourself, wrapped up in this fantasy made reality as you have sex with the man you’ve daydreamed about numerous times before. He’s everything you wanted and more. Haechan seems to be able to read your body, understanding your wants and needs as he slows down and speeds up and pushes you right to the edge before pulling you back. 

You feel ruined in the best possible way. 

When your climax hits without Haechan pulling you back, it’s a slow build, reminding you of that feeling you’d had earlier while making out with him. Slow and sticky like molasses, clinging to every part of you, sweet on the back of your tongue as you cry out Haechan’s name, rolling your body to meet his thrusts.

He pulls out of you while you’re still rolling in the pleasure, and you moan in protest but then he’s kneeling above your face, hand stroking his cock as he hits his peak. 

Haechan’s cum rains down on your lips, and you hold your tongue out, tasting him there better than you could’ve hoped. He dips the tip in for you to suck at, getting the last spurts of his cum directly from the head. 

He kisses you as soon as he pulls out, licking into your mouth. 

You kind of love that none of these men have hesitated to kiss you with your mouth full of jizz, and it’s even hotter right now knowing that Haechan laid his claim on your mouth, reclaiming the territory that Jaemin and Jeno had taken before him. 

You’re not sure how long you lie there making out, but eventually something has to interrupt. 

A meow sounds, inches from your face. 

Confused, you break the kiss, and look up at a very soft, fluffy cat that’s staring down at the two of you. 

“Jaemin!” Haechan calls, “One of your cats is a pervert!”

A moment later, Jaemin comes into the room wearing only a towel, pauses momentarily at the sight of you and Haechan tangled together, and then he comes closer to scoop his cat up against his chest. He looks you both over and then smirks as he says, "Glad tonight worked out for you, Donghyuckie. We told you our wingman skills would work.”

Haechan flips Jaemin off. “A little too well, maybe, since you two also fucked her.”

“Just my mouth,” you remind him, touching your fingers to his jaw and drawing Haechan’s gaze back around to yours. “But only my pussy belongs to you.”

Jaemin snorts. “Gross. Anyway, are you staying tonight? If not, then can you get up so I can strip the bed and wash the sheets before I try to sleep? You’re also welcome to stay, though, Haechan, your apartment is like, right upstairs.”

You feel sticky and gross as you peel yourself away from Haechan, as you climb from the bed. You pull the pieces of your lingerie back into place, and search the floor for your dress among the discarded pieces of clothing — a Superman suit and cape, a pirate belt, Jaemin’s toga skirt somehow mixed into the mess. 

Haechan slides to the edge of the bed, his arms encircling your waist. “Do you want to come back to my place? Like he said, it’s right upstairs. My bed is nicer, free of voyeuristic cats, and comes with a complimentary breakfast in the morning.”

You were sold on the idea before he mentioned it. “Sounds nice to me,” you twist around to kiss him, “Maybe there will even be a nice wake up call for you in the morning.” 

You grab your dress and slide it back on. Haechan links your fingers before leading you from Jaemin’s bedroom. 

He and Jeno are sitting in the living room playing with three nearly identical cats. You tell them goodnight and goodbye, and then Haechan takes you upstairs to his apartment. 

You use his shower, and when you emerge, he’s laid out a shirt for you to borrow to sleep in. You put it on (ignoring the fact that you recognize it from a vlog you’ve seen before), and you head into his bedroom. 

Haechan is lying there in his bed, scrolling on his phone. He’s out of his pirate outfit now, just wearing a faded tshirt like the one you wear, and although his eyes are still dark with smudgy eyeliner, he looks so soft and sleepy. He pushes his fingers through his hair and smiles at you as you slide in on the other side of the bed. 

He puts his phone down and opens his arms, making a place for you to fit against his chest. You fit there perfectly, comfortably. Haechan tells his artificial assistant to turn off the lights, and a moment later you’re doused in darkness except for the faint glow of a light coming through the partially opened bedroom door. 

You don’t fall asleep right away, the two of you talk quietly. You’re not even entirely sure what you talk about, just that you both fill the silence. You talk a bit about yourself, he talks about himself, you talk about dramas, about work, about restaurants and his groupmates and cats and books and travel. It’s some time after Haechan’s telling you a funny story that took place in Seattle during a recent tour, that you drift off. 

There is a complimentary breakfast in bed in the morning, meaning that Haechan eats you out before you return the favor by sliding beneath the sheets and blowing him till he’s fully hard, then ride him until he’s unseating you from his cock so he cums across his belly. 

“Come shower with me?” He suggests while he’s still got you lying on his chest, his fingers bringing you to completion.  You fall apart on his fingers, hiding your face against his tshirt-covered chest. 

And of course you shower with him, reveling at the prospect of finally getting to see Haechan naked, in all his glory. There’s making out in the shower, actually cleaning up, followed by breakfast (and making out) and then Haechan makes you tell him about your time being a fan of the group. 

You end up spending most of the day there in his apartment, alternately making out and talking, watching dramas you’d talked about the night before and making out, ordering in food and making out. Dinner leads to dessert which leads to you in Haechan’s bed again, and this time he locates a condom so there’s no pulling out as you fall apart together. You feel so high, buzzing and drunk on the taste of Haechan, and as he begs you to spend the night again, you know you’re falling tipsily in love, head over heels. 

a/n: I have this problem where I can't just write something short (this was meant to be like max 3000 words, it's 10.2k) and I also can't write something without apparently involving multiple members in probably a bisexual type of way, but it's finally here! I didn't think I'd be writing this slowly for kinktober (which I didn't originally plan on doing at all lmao) but day 2 is finally done on day 16 😂

thank you for reading!

p.s if there are typos or mistakes please let me know! I only did a very light proofread before posting

[hyuckiefluff]

taste me | l. haechan

pairing: incubus! haechan x novice! fem. reader genre: smut wc: 8.7k+ summary: Haunted by your own hunger and the arrival of a young priest, you find yourself pursued by a demon who slips through your dreams, your prayers, and finally your body. content warnings: religious themes & sacrilege!!!, cnc/dubcon undertones, blood/gore, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), multiple positions, overstimulation, unprotected sex, virginity loss/corruption kink, degradation & praise (pet names: little lamb), choking (light breathplay), dacryphilia, biting, scratching, shame kink, indie horror/dark a24 vibes, jisung is the priest lol. lmk if i missed anything. a/n: happy kinktober my fellow freaks! i know i disappeared for way too longgg - life kinda wrecked my brain and i had zero motivation to write, so i’m sorry for dropping off the map and leaving u all hanging. this is my first time actually trying something horror themed so let me know if it worked or if i should never do it again lol. i’m honestly happy with how this turned out and i hope u like it too. p.s. when u get to the last scene, read it while playing the ending of “nda” by billie eilish. the last few lyrics inspired that whole scene that's in italics.

“I had been infinitely disarmed by the terrible, wonderful pleasure of sin.” — Angela Carter, The Bloody Chamber

You learned young that some hungers have no name. That you could press your palm to your chest and feel the outline of something missing, a hollow where other children kept the love they received.

By eighteen, hope had become a dangerous habit. A drug you couldn't quit.

Still, you whispered into the dark. Not the prayers that the nuns taught you but formless wants breathed into your pillow, shaped by desperation rather than faith. Someone. Anyone. Please.

Sometimes you imagined gentle hands smoothing your hair, or a voice calling you by name. But dawn always came harsh through the narrow window, and you woke to the same truth: the only thing that touched you was sunlight, and even that didn't stay.

The ache lived in you. You carried it to chapel, to the kitchen, to the garden where you pulled weeds from between the graves of sisters who'd died without ever feeling lonely because they'd chosen this life. You hadn't chosen anything. You’d been dropped here by parents who didn't love you and had learned to live feeling unwanted by every other parent who came and picked another girl to call theirs.

Time moved strangely in this place. The days folded into one another like pages in a waterlogged book, the ink running together until you couldn't remember if it was October or March, if you were fifteen or fifty.

Then Father Park arrived, and it all changed.

It was autumn, you think. The sky was bruised purple at the edges as rain came down in sheets, turning the courtyard into a mirror that reflected nothing but gray. You were sweeping the entrance hall when the doors burst open.

He stood in the doorway dripping in a black cassock plastered to his frame, hair wild with rain. And he was smiling. Not the apologetic smile of someone caught in bad weather, but something unguarded and radiant. As though he'd been laughing with the thunder on his way here.

Mud slicked off his boots in dark streaks across the pale tile. He looked down at the mess, and his smile faltered into something sheepish. "I'll clean it” he offered, already reaching for the nearest rag before the sisters could scold him properly. They fluttered around him, Sister Catherine with her worried hands and Sister Agnes clucking about how easy it was to get pneumonia these days. All the while you stood frozen trying to understand how someone could carry so much light with them into a place like this.

He wasn't like the priests before him. Those had been old men with their faith calcified into something hard and joyless. Father Park looked wrong in his collar, like a boy playing dress-up in his father's clothes. He was too young and too warm. When he laughed at Sister Catherine's fussing it echoed strangely in the vaulted space, as if the convent had forgotten that sound was possible within its walls.

He caught you staring, and his dark eyes held yours for a moment too long. There was a flicker of recognition there, maybe, or just the simple acknowledgment that you existed outside these stone walls. That you were a person, not just a habit.

It was the first time a young man had really looked at you. Not through you, not past you, but at you.

The boys your age always pretended you didn’t exist when you went out doing errands with the sisters in town. Their gazes would slide right over you, as if you were a ghost. Already dead to the world.

It was only to be expected when you were dressed in the habit, you supposed. That shapeless uniform that marked you as untouchable, as belonging to God and therefore to no one, was a barrier between you and being perceived.

But Father Park looked at you as if he could see straight through to the girl underneath, the one who still wondered what it felt like to be wanted. To be seen as something other than pious.

And standing there in the courtyard you felt dangerously, thrillingly alive.​​​​​​​​ for the first time.

Then Sister Agnes was ushering him away to dry off, and you were alone again with your broom and the rain hammering against the windows.

You didn't know it yet, but you'd already begun to fall.

And something in the dark noticed.

Father Park— or Jisung as you’d found was his name— said Mass differently than the old priests had.

He didn't drone through Latin in that monotone voice that bored you to death. His voice rose and fell with something that felt dangerously close to joy, and when he spoke about mercy, you almost believed him.

The sisters always whispered that he was too casual, too modern, but they softened around him anyway. Even Sister Catherine, who hadn't smiled in probably a decade, let him coax her into laughter over breakfast often.

They weren’t the only ones who’d become… attached.

You started finding excuses to be wherever he was. It wasn't conscious at first. Your feet simply carried you to the chapel when he was there, to the garden when he took his evening walk, to the kitchen when he helped Sister Catherine knead bread. You tried to reason that you were simply curious about him. That after years of sameness, anyone new would be interesting. 

But curiosity didn't explain why your pulse jumped when you heard his footsteps in the hall, or why you'd begun to notice the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

He spoke to you sometimes. Small things. Asked if you'd slept well, commented on the weather, complimented the way you'd arranged flowers for the altar. His attention felt like standing too close to a flame on a winter night, dangerous and necessary all at once. You began to crave it. Those brief moments when his gaze landed on you and you existed, fully, in a way you never had before.

The fourth night after his arrival, you couldn't sleep.

The wanting had begun to change shape. What started as loneliness had narrowed, sharpened, focused itself on him. You lay in your narrow bed and thought about his hands. Wondered what they would feel like against your skin, whether they'd be warm, whether he'd touch you like you were something precious or something to be devoured. The thoughts came unbidden and relentless, each one more vivid than the last, until heat pooled low in your belly and shame burned up your throat.

You pressed your face into your pillow, trying to smother it. Tried to pray. But even prayer had become confused you didn't know anymore if you were asking for forgiveness or permission to act on your desires.

This is wrong, you told yourself. He's a priest. This is a sin.

But your body only understood hunger.

That night the noises in the convent carried strangely through the stone corridors. You'd lived here your whole life and never feared the dark. But now, lying awake with forbidden thoughts burning through you, the shadows seemed to watch you. You owed it to your paranoid mind but then…

You felt it before you saw anything. A presence. A weight to the air that hadn't been there moments before.

The room grew colder. It was the kind of cold that wakes you up, sharpens your senses. You opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling, heart hammering, too frightened to turn your head toward the corner where the darkness seemed thickest.

"Poor thing," a voice murmured, almost sympathetic. "All that wanting, and nowhere for it to go."

You bolted upright.

There was nothing there. Just shadows pooling in the usual places, the same bare walls, the same crucifix above your bed. 

You didn't sleep the rest of that night.

By morning, you'd convinced yourself you'd dreamed it. A fever dream born from shame and sleeplessness. Nothing more. You splashed cold water on your face, dressed in your plain gray dress, and went to morning Mass with the others.

Father Park stood at the altar and you couldn't stop staring at the curve of his mouth as he spoke the consecration. Couldn't stop imagining what it would taste like. The guilt was a living thing in your chest, but beneath it, the hunger grew.

That night, the voice came back.

"You called me," it said, amused now. "Maybe not on purpose. But all that desperate longing, all those prayers into the void... did you really think nothing would answer?"

This time, you turned toward the sound.

The shadows in the corner seemed to have taking shape. Human, but not. You couldn't make out features, but you could feel the weight of a gaze on you. Patient. Predatory.

"What are you?" you whispered.

A low laugh, rich and dark as wine. "What do you think I am?"

Your mouth went dry. Every warning the sisters had ever given you about the devil and his temptations came rushing back, but they felt thin and far away compared to the immediate reality of this presence in your room.

"I think," you said, voice shaking, "that I should pray."

"You could." The shadow shifted, almost shrugged. "But we both know you don't really want to."

"What do you want from me?" you asked.

Another laugh, closer now. The shadow peeled itself from the corner, becoming something more real. You still couldn't see his face clearly but you could make out a lean figure.

"Want? Nothing you're not already willing to give." A pause. "I'm here because you've been starving, little lamb. And I've always had a weakness for the hungry ones."

You should have been terrified. Should have been screaming for the sisters, clutching your rosary, running for the door. But all you felt was a terrible, dizzying relief.

Finally. Finally, something had heard you.

The shadows suddenly moved and he was there in front of you.

Your heart stopped.

He was massive. Broad shoulders that filled the entire doorway, and behind him something unfurled. Wings. Huge and feathered and as dark as the space between stars, they stretched wide before folding against his back.

You opened your mouth but your scream died completely when you saw his face.

He was beautiful. Devastatingly so. The kind of beauty that felt like something designed specifically to make you lower your guard. His skin was the color of hammered bronze, glowing faintly in the dark as if lit from within. He had plump lips that curved with amusement, and his eyes were molten gold.

You scrambled backward, legs tangling in your nightgown, until your spine hit the wall hard enough to hurt. The cold stone pressed against your shoulders but there was nowhere else to go. Your heart hammered so violently you thought it might break through your ribs. Every instinct screamed at you to run, but your legs wouldn't work, wouldn't obey, wouldn't do anything but shake.

"Wh-why are you here?" The words tore from your throat, raw and terrified.

He tilted his head, studying you with those impossible eyes, and when he smiled you saw fangs. Sharp and white and real. "You called," he said, voice warm as summer and cold as a grave. "So I came."

"No—" You pressed harder against the wall, as if you could disappear into it. "No, I didn't—I wasn't—"

"You did." He took a step closer and you flinched, a whimper escaping before you could stop it. "Every lonely prayer. Every desperate wish. All that wanting you poured into the dark." Another step. You couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. "Did you really think no one was listening?"

"Stay back—" Your voice broke. "Please—"

But he kept coming closer, a predator in no rush because the prey had nowhere to run. When he crouched down to your level on the floor, you could feel the heat radiating off him.

"What…" You forced the words out through chattering teeth. "What do you want?"

"What do you want?" he countered, those golden eyes boring into yours. "You called for anyone. Not very choosy, were you?"

Tears burned in your eyes. You shook your head frantically. "No one ever listens—"

His smile widened, fangs glinting in the moonlight. "Lucky for you, little lamb, I'm not picky either." He reached out and his fingers caught your chin, tilting your face up. His touch was searingly hot. "But I do expect a proper thank you."

"Thank you," you whispered automatically, the words spilling out in pure terror. "Thank you, I'm sorry, please—"

He chuckled darkly and the sound raised goosebumps all down your arms. His thumb brushed across your cheek, catching a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "Humans," he murmured almost fondly. "Always begging for something, but never prepared when something answers back."

"What are you?" Your voice cracked on the question.

His wings shifted behind him, a susurrus of feathers and shadow, and you pressed yourself flatter against the wall, fresh terror spiking through you. He noticed and the wings suddenly folded away, disappearing as if they'd never existed at all. The absence of them was somehow worse. Like he was hiding what he really was.

"Does it matter?" He leaned in closer, so close his breath ghosted across your ear, and you trembled violently.

“I'm here now. You don't have to be alone anymore." His voice dropped to a whisper that seemed to echo from everywhere and nowhere. "But you should be careful what you pray for, little lamb. Some things can't be undone."

You were frozen, caught between terror and something else you didn't want to name. Something that noticed how gentle his touch was despite the fangs, despite the inhuman eyes, despite everything.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. "So. What do you want now?"

"I—" You couldn't think. Couldn't process. The sisters' warnings rang in your ears—demons, the devil's servants, temptation and damnation—and you were staring at exactly what they'd described. "You shouldn't be here. This is a convent, it's sacred ground—"

His laugh rippled through the quiet room. "Is it?" He glanced around at the cracked walls, the faded icons. "You really think mortar and tired saints can keep me out?" He looked back at you, and his smile turned sharp. "No, little lamb. I'm here because you opened the door."

"I'll pray you away," you said desperately, even as your fingers fumbled for the rosary at your throat. "I'll—"

"Prayers don't send me away." His hand covered yours, stopping you, and the beads grew hot under his touch. "They feed me. All that longing, all that yearning to be seen, to be wanted—" His eyes burned brighter. "I answered that call. It's as simple as rain falling."

"Why me?" The question broke free. "There are thousands of prayers. Why did you choose mine?"

"Because yours was the most desperate," he whispered, leaning in until you could feel the heat of his chest through your thin nightgown. His pupils expanded into endless voids, swallowing the gold. "Others pray for safety, forgiveness, small blessings. But you?" His smile was almost gentle. "You prayed for touch. That kind of yearning lights up the darkness."

Heat flooded your face. Shame and something dangerously close to gratitude tangled in your chest. He could see all of it… every desperate wish, every lonely night, every moment you'd ached to be held.

"What's your name?" you heard yourself ask.

He paused, as if the question surprised him. "Haechan," he said finally. "The dawn's first light and the end of every dream."

"Haechan," you echoed, and his name felt dangerous on your tongue.

He smiled at the sound of it. Then his expression shifted, grew more serious. "I don't feed on prayers alone, little lamb. I need something... warmer. Deeper."

Your throat tightened. You knew what demons wanted. What they were said to take from their victims. "I'm not—" The words stuck. Not ready? Not willing? Both felt like lies.

His smile turned knowing, he was clearly amused by your struggle. Then he stood in one fluid motion and stepped back toward the balcony. "I'll be nearby," he promised, and it sounded like both comfort and a threat. "You'll feel me in your dreams, in every quiet corner. And when you're tired of being alone..." His eyes locked onto yours, glowing like coals. "You'll call for me without even realizing it."

The balcony doors flew open suddenly and in a blink, he was gone.

The doors slammed shut with enough force to rattle the frame. You stayed pressed against the wall, heart racing, lungs burning, until the first weak threads of dawn crept across the floor as proof that night, and whatever had walked through it, had finally passed.

You didn't sleep.

From that night on, your dreams weren't yours anymore.

You became increasingly paranoid after that night.

Sleep turned into your worst enemy. You wandered the floors long after vespers, folding linen until your fingertips felt raw, whispering Psalms under your breath until the words faded into a blur. You convinced yourself that if you stayed awake, he wouldn’t slip through the cracks of your dreams.

But exhaustion hunted you down more relentlessly than any demon. The candlelight dwindled to mere stubs; your eyes felt gritty, swollen, and rimmed with red. As dawn broke, kneeling next to Sister Catherine for morning prayers, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the brass candlestick. Pale cheeks, pupils unnaturally wide, a girl teetering on the edge of breaking.

Days melted into one another. You could sense him everywhere. A scent of burnt sugar in the laundry room, ghostly smoke wafting through the cloister windows. Once, while hanging damp linens in the courtyard, a warm breeze brushed against your neck, and you turned, convinced you felt the touch of feathers. But there was nothing, just the flapping of laundry and your heart racing in your throat.

Eventually, your body gave in. One night, utterly exhausted and trembling, you crawled under the rough blanket and promised yourself you’d just rest your eyes but darkness enveloped you and the convent faded away.

You opened your eyes and recognized it immediately as a dream. The colors were dulled and everything was hazy,. Moonlight poured silver across your bed and there he was on the windowsill.

“Missed me?” His words slipped under your nightgown like warm hands.

You attempted to sit up, but the sheet clung to your damp skin. Your nightgown, how had you not noticed how sheer it was before? brushed coolly against your suddenly sensitive flesh. Your heart raced so loudly you worried it might shatter your ribs.

Shame wrapped around you, but he just breathed in, his eyes half-closed as if your embarrassment was a fine fragrance. 

In the blink of an eye, he was on the mattress, moving toward you with the grace of a predator. “You’re quite loud when you sleep, little lamb,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a lazy line along your calf. “Moaning my name without even realizing it.”

The mattress shifted as he settled between your knees. His warm fingers glided over your ankle, moving higher up the curve of your shin and the soft inside of your thigh until he paused just before reaching the place that throbbed with desire.

“Already so wet,” he said with a pleased hum, dragging a single knuckle along the crease where your thigh met your hip. Your hips instinctively jerked toward him.

“Oh.” He raised an eyebrow at your eagerness, leaning in close until his mouth brushed against the shell of your ear. “You don’t even realize what you’re offering me, do you?”

In a moment of weakness you wondered if it would be too bad to let him take you. Wasn't that was you wanted the most anyway? To be held at last. You swallowed hard, both hating and loving how your breath quivered.

His mouth ghosted over your neck, and you felt your pulse pulsing faster under his fangs. Your hands clawed at the sheets. “If you want this,” he purred. “I need to hear it.”

You still didn’t want to give him what he wanted. If there was anything you could still protect from temptation, it was your virtue. Your body belonged to God. Giving it to a demon of all things? That was unthinkable... 

He knew you were fighting him. He could taste it. You saw it in his eyes, the way his mouth curled, and his tongue poked out of his mouth as if your struggle only made him hungrier. One fingertip brushed against the damp silk between your legst. Your hips jerked again.

“So eager…” he pressed a knuckle against that ache and your vision began to blur at the edges.

“Imagine,” he whispered, his mouth hovering near your ear, breath warm, “what I could make you feel if you simply asked.”

You turned your face away, tears pricking at your eyes. “You— you said you wouldn’t take what I didn’t give.”

“And I won’t.” He withdrew, depriving you of his warmth, leaving your body singing with frustrated electricity. His tongue brushed the tear on your cheek. “But want is a door you leave cracked. I only push when invited.”

You bit your lip, refusing to beg, even as he slipped a single finger beneath the edge of your underwear.

“I can make you crave it, you know…”

His mouth pressed hot against your navel, tongue tracing up until it paused just under your breasts. You sucked in a breath. He smiled, fully proud of what he could do with so little.

He slipped that same finger under the silk of your panties, grazing the swollen flesh there. The slightest pressure was enough to make your legs shake. 

“Give in to me…” he murmured. 

You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. He circled lazily, coating his fingertip before slipping it higher to find the spot that made your vision blur.

A broken sound left your throat. He rewarded it with another slow stroke, then a second finger joining the first, stretching you slowly, as if he had all night to ruin you.

“Sweet,” he whispered, lips brushing your thigh. “I could dine on you for centuries.”

He pumped a few more times and then withdrew completely. You gasped at the loss.

“Since you’re not playing nice,” he said, licking the taste of you from his fingers, “we’ll continue next time.”

Then he was gone. 

You woke to soaked sheets, and your hips still grinding against the mattress trying to chase a phantom orgasm that refused to come.

Three days since he last came to you, and your skin was rubbed raw of his touch by now.

You scrubbed in the washing room before lauds. Sister Catherine found you there at dawn, your chemise soaked through, fingernails pink with blood where you’d clawed at your own thighs. She didn’t ask questions. Just handed you a towel and left, though her eyes were full of judgment.

You were out of it even during Mass. The chapel had emptied around you at one point but you’d scarcely noticed. All your focus was on a dark stain on the stone floor. It looked like spilled wine. Or old blood.

“Are you all right?” Father Park’s voice was soft. Worried.

You dragged your gaze up to meet his. “Yes, Father. Sorry. I was just… thinking.”

“You’ve been doing a lot of that lately.” He studied your face, and you wondered what he saw there. Exhaustion, probably. The hollows forming under your eyes. “You’re not the only one,” he continued quietly, glancing toward the door as if checking for listeners. “Several of the novices have been… struggling. Sister Margaret came to see me yesterday.”

Your heart kicked against your ribs. “She did?”

“She looked ill,” he said. “Feverish. Couldn’t meet my eyes. I asked if something was troubling her, but—” He shook his head, frustrated. “She just kept apologizing. Said she couldn’t sleep. That she’d been having dreams.” His fingers tightened slightly on your arm. “Bad dreams.”

The chapel suddenly felt smaller.

“I told her to rest and pray,” Father Park continued, “but I’m not sure prayer is helping any of you right now.” His eyes searched yours, desperate for answers you couldn’t give. “Is there something going on that I should know about?”

Yes, you wanted to say. Something is visiting us at night. Something with wings and fangs and hands that know exactly how to unmake you. And I want it. God help me, I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

“No, Father,” you whispered instead. “We’re just tired.”

He didn’t believe you. You could see it in the way his jaw tightened, the way his hand dropped from your arm like he’d realized he couldn’t help you. “My door is always open,” he said finally, but it sounded hollow. Like he already knew you’d never walk through it.

You nodded and stood, your legs unsteady. As you moved past him toward the door, he called after you.

“Please. Try to sleep.”

You almost laughed. Sleep was the problem. Sleep was where he waited.

Sister Margaret. You couldn’t stop watching her.

She’d been pale as milk a week ago, fasting through Lent until her collarbones jutted sharp enough to cut. Now her cheeks had color. Her lips looked bitten-red, swollen like she’d been sucking on berries. At dinner, she pushed food around her plate but didn’t eat, and when she bent to reach for the water pitcher, you saw it… a shadow of a bruise blooming purple  beneath her collar.

The same place he’d marked you that first night.

Your hands clenched around your cup hard enough that the it cracked a little

Sister Agnes was talking about something, her voice a dull murmur you couldn’t focus on. You watched Sister Margaret’s throat work as she swallowed, watched the way her eyes went distant and glassy, like she was somewhere else entirely.

The cup broke in your grip.

The refectory went silent. Every sister turned to look at you, at the broken shards stuck in your bloodied hands, at the expression on your face that you couldn’t quite control.

“Sorry,” you managed. “I’m—I need air.”

You stood so abruptly your chair scraped obscenely against stone. No one stopped you as you fled.

You buried your hands in the soil once you reached the garden, trying to ground yourself in something real. The earth was too warm for October. Steam rose from it when you dug, carrying that scent of burnt sugar.

She had his mark. She’d been with him. Maybe last night, maybe the night before. While you’d laid awake in your room, praying for sleep and a demon that wouldn’t come.

“Did you hear?” Sister Teresa whispered to the novice beside her, their voices carrying over the herb beds to you. “Sister Margaret fell ill last night. Fever dreams. She kept calling out, but when Mother Superior came, she couldn’t remember what she’d been saying.”

Your hands stilled in the dirt.

“Probably just exhaustion,” the novice replied. “We’ve all been so tired lately.”

You looked around the garden with new eyes. Sister Agnes moved through the rows of lavender but she kept looking over her shoulder as if afraid to be followed. Sister Claire’s hands trembled as she pruned the roses, and there were dark crescents under her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

How many of you were there?

The thought made you want to vomit. Made you want to scream. Made you want to find him and—

And what?

You pressed your palm flat against your chest, feeling the rise and fall of your breath, the steady beat of your heart, and you couldn’t help but wonder why your body kept going when everything inside felt like it was crumbling. The hunger was becoming unbearable. Not for food. Not for anything you could easily confess. It was a restless, insistent feeling that lived beneath your skin, making you want to claw your way out of yourself.

Thoughts of him twisted in your stomach. You knew you shouldn’t miss him. You shouldn’t lie awake counting the hours since you last felt his presence, those empty nights piling up like stones on your chest. But you did. You really did.

Sleep now terrified you. He had turned dreams into something perilous, something beyond your control. But staying awake was even worse, just you and the darkness, along with the gnawing certainty that you’d never find satisfaction in this life. You’d spend every night for the rest of your days kneeling on cold floors, praying to a God who had gone silent, yearning for things you couldn’t have.

Make it stop, you thought desperately. But you weren’t even sure what you were asking for anymore. For the longing to end? Or for Haechan to return and feed it?

Your forehead rested against the mattress, your hands fell limp. You stopped trying to pray and simply waited for sleep to pull you under.

When you finally closed your eyes, the world peeled away in layers.

The chapel appeared around you, but something felt off. The pews stood empty, yet you could hear the sound of breathing. Dozens of people inhaling and exhaling in perfect harmony. The stations of the cross hung askew on the walls, and in each frame, the painted figures had turned their faces away. The stained glass windows depicted scenes you didn’t recognize: a woman with wings of fire, a man with a mouth full of eyes, a child devouring stars. 

Haechan was at the altar, his wings spread wide enough to touch both walls. “There she is,” he said softly, his voice echoing strangely, as if it came from all around you at once. “My angry little lamb.” You moved toward him, and with each step, the stone floor rippled beneath you like water.

 “How many?” Your voice sounded broken. “How many of us are there?”

His smile was both radiant and terrifying. “In this convent?” He tilted his head, pondering. “Seven. No... eight now. Sister Claire finally dreamed of me last night.

Eight. Eight of you. 

“But I—” Your breath hitched. “I called you first.”

 “You did,” he said, stepping down from the altar. 

“You begged so loudly in your sleep that I heard you from three realms away. Such hunger. Such desire.” He paused right in front of you, close enough for you to see your own reflection in his eyes.

“ But did you really think that made you special?” 

“Yes.” The word slipped out, cracking as it left your lips. 

“Why?” He reached out, his fingertips brushing against your jaw. His touch was like fire. “What sets you apart from Sister Margaret? From Sister Claire? From all the others who pray to be filled, who ache in their narrow beds, who dream of hands and mouths and—”

“Because I’ll give you anything,” you blurted out.

“They’re scared. They wake up crying, begging for forgiveness. But I—” You grabbed his wrist, pressing his hand against your face. “I’m not afraid anymore.”

Something flickered in his expression. Was it interest? Or perhaps hunger?  

“Everyone says that,” he murmured. “At first.”  

“I really mean it.”  

“Do you?” He cradled your face in his hands. “What would you give me, little lamb? Your virtue? I’ve already taken that. Your soul?” He let out a laugh, the sound reverberating off the vaulted ceiling. “I don’t want your soul. Souls are so dull.”  

“Then what do you want?” you pressed, frustration and longing twisting in your chest, making it hard to catch your breath.  

His thumbs glided over your cheekbones, surprisingly gentle despite the unsettling aura he carried. Up close, you could see all the ways he wasn’t human: the dark lines on his shoulders that connected to the dark wings on his back, his pupils dilating independently of the light, and his lips, stained a deep red as if he’d just feasted on pomegranate.  

“Permission,” he replied, his tone straightforward.  

You blinked in surprise. “I already—”  

“No.” His grip tightened just a bit. “You’ve let me into your dreams. You’ve allowed me to touch you. But you haven’t truly given yourself to me. You still think you can walk away. You still feel guilty every morning.” His eyes glimmered crimson. “I want you to stop praying to him. I want you to desire this. Not as a sin. Not as a weakness. I want you to choose me, fully aware of what I am.”

The chapel was enveloped in silence, save for that eerie breathing coming from nowhere.  

“If I do,” you whispered, “will you stop visiting the others?”  

His grin grew wider. “Is that what you truly want? Just me, all to yourself?”  

“Yes.” The word slipped out before you could catch how desperate it sounded.  

“Even though they need me too? Even though Sister Margaret is fading away, and Sister Claire cries herself to sleep, and Sister Agnes has started to forget what it feels like to be touched?”  

A wave of guilt twisted in your stomach, but you pushed it down. “Yes,” you repeated, more forcefully this time. “I don’t care. I want you. And I want you to want only me.”  

“Greedy,” he purred, clearly pleased. “I like that.” He leaned closer, his breath brushing against your lips. “But you still haven’t said it the right way.”  

“Said what?”  

“How bad you want it.” His hand moved to rest against your throat. “Beg me properly, and maybe I’ll think about it.”  

Your heart raced against his palm. Suddenly, the chapel felt smaller, the walls closing in, the ceiling lowering. In the stained glass windows, the strange figures had turned to watch you. Even the icons on the walls seemed to tilt their heads, curious to see.

“Please,” you breathed. “I want you. I choose you.” Your hands found their way to his wrists, holding him close. “Take me. Keep me. Make me yours.” 

Everything stood still for a moment.

Then Haechan took a sharp breath and suddenly his wings unfurled, casting a shadow that enveloped the entire chapel. The candles flickered out in unison, and the sounds of breathing faded into silence. The stained glass shattered, splintering into a web of cracks, revealing not the sky but an endless void. A vast, empty, hungry nothingness. 

“There it is,” he rasped. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for.” 

And then he kissed you. His lips were sweet, reminiscent of summer fruit left to ripen in the sun. You felt his hands everywhere, pulling you closer, as if he wanted to carve himself into your very being. Your  hips instinctively moved against the firm pressure of his thigh. 

“You’ve been waiting for this too,” he breathed against your neck. “I’ll mark you so deeply that they’ll catch my scent on you in the waking world.” 

“Yes. Please.”  you moaned.

“Good girl.” He flashed a grin. “I’ll give you everything you’ve been yearning for.”

He scooped you up as if you were featherlight and laid you down on the altar. You gasped at the sharp chill that pierced through your thin cotton, the ancient marble soaking up every bit of warmth you had managed to gather from his touch. You had always wondered if the altar was genuinely sacred or if the church just wanted you to think it was. 

The feeling of desecrating it was real, though. Your spine arched against the stone, your thighs spread in the silence, the only sounds being your own ragged breaths and the gentle scrape of his claws as he lifted your nightgown, inch by inch, exposing you to the ribs. He didn’t seem rushed at all. In fact, he looked as if he was savoring every flicker of shame and desire that rolled off your skin.

He paused to take you in. Not in a romantic or worshipful way, but with the dark hunger of a man staring at a feast he knows he shouldn’t indulge in. You could see your own desire reflected in his eyes. 

He bent down grazing your inner thigh with his mouth, just above the pulse that throbbed so intensely it was almost painful. His tongue followed, starting off soft but quickly becoming thicker than you expected, impossibly hot, moving with a slow weight. 

He licked you open and a jolt of panic surged through you as you realized his tongue was still growing. Sliding over, under, and inside, curling in lazy circles that brushed against every secret nerve you didn’t even know existed. 

You bit your wrist to keep from crying out, but that only made him smile wider. He wasn’t just tasting you; he was filling you completely. His tongue unfurled inside you with a pressure that made your whole body arch off the altar. He found that deep place within you, the one no hand had ever reached, pressing there repeatedly, his inhuman length writhing as if to claim what was his.

He looked up, his hair falling over those crimson eyes that were locked onto yours, and you felt a wave of mortification wash over you as you realized you were crying. Salt streamed down your cheeks, leaving a sticky trail at your jaw and the sight of this seemed to please him because he leaned in and licked a tear from the inside of your thigh. He savored it and hummed softly, as if your pain was as sweet to him as your own desire.  

“This is mine now,” he murmured, his voice vibrating against your clit as he flicked it mercilessly. 'Your piety, your purity… I'll fuck it all out of you.' 

You wanted to say stop but you also wanted to give in to whatever he desired, just to hold onto that overwhelming sensation. 

He pulled back, his serpentine tongue flicking against your clit—once, twice, three times—each touch growing a little more intense, until you were shuddering and writhing and your heels drumming against the marble.

You didn’t recognize the obscene sounds escaping your lips. The world had shrunk down to a single point of heat, a tension that felt like it would never release, and you thought you might just die if it did. Or if it didn’t. 

“So sweet,” he murmured, his voice thick with hunger. “Crying for me, giving me every drop you’ve ever held back. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? This is what you begged for?”

Without waiting for your reply, he curled his tongue inside you, teasing that impossible spot, and you completely fell apart. Tears mixed with gasps and sobs so raw that you thought even the saints would hide their faces. 

Your hands fisted in his dark hair, pulling him closer even as you begged, 'Forgive me, Lord...' But there was no forgiveness here, it was too late for that. You shattered, your cunt clenching around nothing as the orgasm ripped through you, juices flooding his tongue. Haechan drank it all, growling in satisfaction.

You only felt him pull away when the sudden emptiness made you whimper. He laughed softly, using his thumb to wipe away your tears. Then he stood, his cock pressing against your entrance, the thick head nudging at your slick folds. Leaning down, he whispered in your ear, “Let me in,” his voice as soothing as a lullaby. “Let me defile you, body and soul.”

You nodded, unable to speak, your mind barely functioning. When he finally entered you, it was a shock to your system. The stretch felt like fire, the fullness so intense it made you see white. He sank deep with a groan, his head thrown back, wings spreading wide.

You felt everything: the altar beneath your back, the pressure of his hips, the remnants of your tears, the way he and you blended together, melting, burning, unraveling. 

He moved slowly at first, each drag of his cock against your insides deliberate, stretching you wider, claiming every inch. His wings wrapped around you partially, cocooning you in darkness as he leaned down to lick the fresh tears from your cheeks. “Cry for me,” he whispered, filthy and sweet. “Cry for the faith you're losing.” You sobbed openly, tears streaming into your hair, soaking the stone beneath your head. 

His hands roamed pinching your nipples until they bruised, slapping your thighs to leave red handprints on your pale skin. Then he pressed kisses to your jaw, your temple, your lips. He was rough and soft in a way you didn’t think was possible for an entity like him. 

“That’s it,” he breathed. “Let yourself fall apart for me. There’s nothing left but this. Just you and me, in the ruins.”

You did. You broke, again and again, until you lost count, until the world was only sensation, salt, and the heavy, holy desecration of your body. 

He didn’t let you go when the last tremor faded. His hands slid up your ribs slowly as if he enjoyed feeling you shudder, boneless and pliant under his palm. The altar felt colder now, sweat cooling on your back, the outline of your body etched against the stone.

He drew back only enough to watch your face, searching for the way your breath hitched as he pulled out and pushed back in. You were still crying, silent tears cutting hot tracks down your temples, and he pressed a kiss to each one as he started to move, deeper, slower, hips grinding into yours with merciless control.

He shifted, grasping you by the waist, and with a strength that startled you, flipped you over. The marble burned your chest, nipples sensitive and sore from the friction, your hips dragged back so you were forced to arch, presenting. Your knees barely found purchase because the stone was slick with your sweat, and you had to brace with your trembling hands.

'Look at you, presenting like a whore in God's house,' he taunted, his claws digging into your hips as he kneaded your ass cheeks, spreading them wide. He spat on your tight hole, then pressed the head of his cock against it.

The stretch was sharp at first, then spread into a slow-blooming ache that made your eyes flutter shut. The angle forced your hips up, your forehead hitting the cold altar as you panted. He was hitting a spot that had your nerves firing in a jagged line from your core to your scalp. 

His palm spread across your stomach while the other curled into your hair, tugging your head back so you could feel his mouth at your ear and the edge of his fangs grazing your skin as he murmured your name.

“Feel how good you take me from every hole?” he crooned, tongue darting to taste the salt at your hairline. “So eager, so empty before me. I could keep you like this for centuries, stretched open and leaking for me.”

He rutted into you with long, languorous thrusts, his hips grinding against your ass, cock so thick you thought you’d break. You whimpered, and he only went deeper in response. His tongue traced your spine, licking up sweat and shivering flesh, a serpentine heat that left marks you’d surely feel for days. 

At some point, he wrenched you up again until your back hit his chest, wings cocooning around you both. He splayed your knees wide, holding you open with ruthless tenderness, the swollen head of his cock dragging slick between your folds before pushing in.

His hand slipped around your neck, reminding you with every shallow squeeze that you belonged to him, trembling and helpless in the cage of his embrace. His other hand found your clit, rubbing circles that matched the rhythm of his thrusts. You gasped falling back on his shoulder, tears spilling freely down your cheeks as you sobbed and keened.

Haechan caught your cries with his mouth, lips moving hungrily along your jaw, tongue lapping at the damp heat where your tears spilled and pooled, every ragged sound turning him ravenous and insatiable.

He folded you over the altar so that your knee propped awkwardly and the other foot skidded on marble as he rutted into you with relentless purpose. Your sobs bounced off the chapel walls, mixing with his guttural praises and vicious promises.

He gagged you with his fingers, thrusting them deep into your mouth as he railed your ass. “Cry for me,” he growled. “I want every angel above us to hear your ruin.

You gave yourself to it, the tears and the shame and the pleasure cresting into something that left you emptied, scoured raw, filled with a sense of worship you’d never known in all your years of prayer.

When you came again, his wings tightened around you, his cock thrusting so deep you thought you’d break. You sobbed out his name, the sound caught in your throat and pressed against his palm. He chased you over the edge and filled you until you were a ruin collapsed on the altar.

He cradled you through the aftermath, tongue soft now, licking salt from your lashes, whispering promises in a language that Father Park often used during Mass. His hands mapped you, turning you over, pulling your legs up over his shoulders and sliding back in, slower this time, savoring the way you clenched and whimpered for more.

He held you up, let you collapse, flipped you again, fucked you sideways, legs tangled, sweat dripping from your bodies to the stone below. Every time you thought you were spent, he started again, coaxing another shudder, another cry, another mindless, shattered climax from the hollow of your body.

By the time the first cold blue of dawn crept through the broken windows, you were spent, throat raw, body marked with bruises and bites and the sticky, leaking evidence of his pleasure. The candles guttered out, smoke swirling in lazy halos above you. He hovered over you, eyes dark, mouth swollen, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

And then he was gone with the last shadow, leaving you wrecked, weeping, and praying, for the first time in your life, that dawn would never come.

But just as you were about to catch your breath and before you could even utter a word, he vanished with nothing but the echo of his laughter ringing in your ears as the dream faded and you tumbled back into reality.

You woke to cold stone beneath your skin and sharp air against bare flesh.

Your eyes opened slowly, vision swimming before the vaulted ceiling came into focus. Gold leaf and painted saints stared down at you, their faces solemn in the grey dawn light.

You were still on the altar.

Your body felt strange, like you were floating an inch above your own skin. When you tried to sit up, the movement came too easily, no muscle resistance, no pleasant ache from the night before. Just… emptiness.

You looked down at yourself and you were still naked, but … not marked. Your skin was unmarred, pale and smooth as if nothing had touched you at all.

Where were the bruises? The evidence of his hands, his mouth, his—

The chapel doors creaked open.

“I wonder if Father Pa—”

Sister Margaret’s voice died in her throat.

Then she screamed a full-throated, horrified scream that echoed off the vaulted ceiling and sent birds scattering from the rafters outside. Her prayer book hit the floor, and she stumbled backward, one hand clapped over her mouth, eyes wide and white-rimmed with terror.

You stood quickly, confused. “Sister Margaret, I—”

But she wasn’t looking at you. She was looking past you.

No. Not past you. Through you.

A cold thread of dread curled down your spine. Slowly, slowly, you turned to look behind you.

There was a body on the altar.

…Your body.

It lay exactly where you’d been sleeping moments ago, limbs arranged almost peacefully, head tilted to one side. Anyone would think you were just sleeping. Anyone would think—

Except for the blood.

So much blood, pooled dark and viscous across the white altar, dripping in slow drops onto the chapel floor. It covered your chest, your throat, stained your skin in patterns that looked almost like a painting.

And there, in the center of your chest, was a hole. You could see inside it, see the ribs spread like fingers, see the hollow space where something should have been.

Your heart was gone.

You took a step closer, hand rising to your own chest—this chest, the one you were wearing now—and felt nothing. No heartbeat or a single breath.

“What…” You whispered. “No, no, no—”

More footsteps thundered down the corridor. Sister Catherine burst through the doors first, followed by Sister Agnes, Sister Claire, two novices whose names you couldn’t remember. They all stopped when they saw it. Saw your corpse, desecrated and ruined on the holiest surface in the convent.

Sister Catherine’s face went grey. Sister Agnes made a wounded sound and turned away, retching. The younger novices started crying immediately, high and panicked.

“Someone get Father Park,” Sister Catherine managed, voice strangled. “And Mother Superior. Now. Now!”

One of the novices ran.

You stood there, invisible, watching them swarm around your body. Around the evidence of what had been done to you. Sister Margaret had collapsed into a pew, sobbing into her hands. Sister Agnes kept making the sign of the cross over and over, her lips moving in silent prayer.

“Who would do this?” Sister Claire whispered, horrified. “Who could… in a chapel—”

But you knew. Oh God, you knew.

I need something… warmer, deeper, he’d said the first night you saw him.

Take me, keep me, make me yours, you’d begged last night.

He’d taken everything.

Father Park arrived with Mother Superior close behind him. He stopped dead in the doorway, his face draining of all color as he took in the scene. Your body. The blood. The desecration.

“Sweet merciful Christ,” he breathed.

He moved forward slowly. When he reached the altar, he stood there for a long moment, just staring down at your ruined corpse. Then, with shaking hands, he reached out and gently gathered your body into his arms.

Your head lolled against his shoulder. Blood stained his vestments immediately, but he didn’t seem to care. He just held you, cradling you like a child, and his face crumpled.

“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. “Who coul—” His voice broke. “What kind of monster—”

“Father.” Mother Superior’s voice was rigid with horror. “Her heart. It’s been—”

“Oh lord.” He closed his eyes, and you saw tears slip down his weathered cheeks. 

Sister Margaret’s sobs grew louder. “Who could’ve done this?” She gasped. “Do you think it was—” She looked up, face blotchy and destroyed.

“We can’t possibly know who it was!” Sister Agnes intervened, it was almost as if she knew Sister Margaret was going to mention him. After all; he’d visited them all too. 

You wanted to tell them. Wanted to scream it was me, I chose this, I wanted it—but no sound came out. Your mouth moved silently, your transparent hands reached out, but they passed through Sister Margaret’s shoulder.

You were a ghost. An echo.

Father Park stood carefully, still cradling your corpse. “We need to prepare her for burial,” he said quietly. “And we need to consecrate this space again. Whatever happened here—” He looked around the chapel, at the candles that had all burned down to nothing, at the altar cloth soaked through with your blood. “This place has been desecrated. Corrupted.”

“Should we call the authorities?” Sister Catherine asked. “The police? This is… this is murder.”

“And tell them what?” Father Park’s voice was hollow. “That someone stole a girl’s heart in a locked chapel without forced entry, without witnesses, without leaving any evidence except—” He gestured helplessly. “They’ll think we’re mad.”

“Then what do we do?” Sister Agnes whispered.

“We pray,” Mother Superior said firmly, though her hands shook as she clutched her rosary. “We pray for her soul. And we pray that whatever evil entered these walls never returns.”

But you knew it wouldn’t work. You could feel it even now… That pull, that invisible tether connecting you to him. He had your heart. Your literal, physical heart. And wherever he went, whatever he did with it…

You would follow.

The sisters began to file out, murmuring prayers, casting terrified glances back at the altar. Father Park carried your body gently, whispering last rites as he walked. Sister Margaret was the last to leave, her face turned back toward the chapel as Sister Catherine guided her away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to your corpse, to the memory of you. “I’m so sorry.”

Then they were gone.

You looked down at yourself, at your translucent hands, your incorporeal form. You pressed your palm to your chest again, searching for a heartbeat that would never come.

Nothing.

Just the echo of his voice in your memory: Mine. Completely. Forever.

You’d thought giving yourself to him meant marking. Possession. A dark romance where you’d be his in dreams and waking, bound but still alive.

You hadn’t realized the cost.

You hadn’t understood what “completely” meant.

A laugh bubbled up in your chest. You’d won. You’d made him choose you. You’d given him permission, begged him to take everything. And he had.

In the distance, you heard the bells tolling. Slow, mournful. The death knell... For you.

The girl who wanted so desperately to be chosen that she’d trade her life for it.

The girl who got exactly what she asked for.

Somewhere far away, in dreams or darkness or whatever space he inhabited between worlds, you felt a heartbeat that wasn’t yours, pumping with stolen blood. Your heart, beating in his chest. Or in his hands. Or in whatever he’d done with it to bind you to him forever.

You closed your eyes and waited.

He would come back. Eventually. To collect what was his.

And you, now a damned thing, would be waiting.

After all, you had nowhere else to go.

You were his.

Completely.

Forever.

Just like you wanted.

feedback is greatly appreciated <333

[jikookncity]

Pirate!Haechan x Siren!Reader (Smut)

14k, unprotected sex, reader humps donghyuck in his sleep but he's super into it, riding, floor sex, dirty talk, masterbation, degradation, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, attempted sexual assault (not in detail, very quick and nothing actually happens), reader is a SIREN

The sea was glass that night—too calm for any mortal comfort. Even the stars hung back, wary of what stirred beneath the surface.

Captain Donghyuck stood at the bow of The Maiden’s Mercy, eyes locked on the black horizon. His jaw clenched, fingers flexing over the hilt of his cutlass. Weeks he’d been chasing whispers. Months of bribing drunk sailors in dark taverns, collecting fragmented lore and forbidden charts. All leading to this: the rumored trail to the ancient, cursed treasure said to grant a man power and riches beyond belief.

But only a siren could guide him there.

And tonight, he'd baited one.

The trap was brutal—crude magic mixed with silver nets soaked in sacred oil. The crew had gone silent hours ago, tension thick in the air. Then came the song, faint and honeyed, curling over the water like smoke. Men began to drift toward the sound, glazed-eyed, mesmerized. Donghyuck had clamped wax in his ears. Waited.

When she breached the surface—hair like sea silk, eyes glowing like deep emeralds—he acted.

Now, the ship creaked under moonlight as his men dragged her onto the deck, slippery and snarling, tangled in the glimmering net. Her voice was already rising, low and hypnotic, a sound that made their blood slow in their veins.

“Shut her up,” Donghyuck snapped.

Before she could release her full song, he knelt, grabbed a length of cloth, and shoved it into her mouth, gagging her roughly. She screamed behind it, thrashing in fury. Even silenced, her voice was dangerous—like desire made sound.

Her skin shimmered faintly as they hauled her upright. She was wet, furious, and wickedly stunning. Water clung to the swell of her breasts, to the curve of her hips and thighs, her tail already beginning to split as it dried, scales peeling back to reveal smooth legs beneath. Her transformation was slow but mesmerizing, her magic receding with every drop of water that left her body.

Donghyuck couldn’t look away.

His eyes roamed shamelessly over her body, sharp and intense. The slick arch of her spine. The way she stood tall, even bound and gagged, defiance sparking in her eyes. She met his gaze like she wanted to bite his throat out.

“Beautiful thing,” he muttered under his breath, smirking. “You’re going to take me to the gold.”

She hissed behind the gag.

“Lock her up,” he said, voice dark with amusement and something more primal. “Don’t let her near water. And keep her dry.”

Two crewmen dragged her down into the belly of the ship. The brig was cold, iron-barred, with a single oil lamp flickering overhead. They tossed her inside like she weighed nothing, the cell door slamming behind her.

Donghyuck followed, boots echoing on the wood floor.

He stepped up to the bars, watching as she slowly adjusted, tail now nearly gone, legs fully formed. Her hands were bound behind her back, her chest rising and falling with rage.

“You’re mine now, siren,” he said softly. “You’re going to be very useful to me.”

She met his eyes. The heat in her stare was enough to make any man flinch.

But Donghyuck only smiled.

He was used to dangerous creatures.

And he’d never wanted one more.

The ship groaned gently with the ocean's lull, but inside the brig, time stood still.

Donghyuck leaned against the iron bars, fingers toying with the keys hooked at his hip. He watched her silently for a long moment. She sat in the far corner, back pressed to the wooden wall, hair still damp and curling over her shoulders, clinging to the exposed skin of her chest. Her arms were still tied behind her, her legs curled beneath her in a posture that looked almost relaxed—until you noticed the tension in her jaw. The burning in her eyes.

He slid the cell door open with an easy hand.

She didn’t flinch. Just lifted her chin.

Donghyuck stepped inside, slow and sure, kneeling in front of her like she was something rare and volatile. He pulled the gag loose from her mouth, fingers brushing the curve of her cheek as he did.

"There," he said smoothly. “Better, isn’t it?”

Silence.

She held his gaze, lips red and parted, but said nothing.

Not a sound.

He smiled, cocking his head. “Still not speaking, huh?”

Nothing.

Donghyuck chuckled lowly and leaned in, just enough to breathe the same air as her. His eyes dropped to her lips.

“You know, there’s a rumor,” he said softly. “That if a human kisses a siren… he can breathe underwater.” He gave her a long, lingering look. “Tempting, isn’t it?”

She didn’t move. Didn’t blink. But her jaw tightened, and—

Her teeth shifted.

In the low light, her lips curled back just enough to show the beginning of fangs. Sharp. Gleaming.

Dangerous.

Donghyuck only grinned.

“Feisty,” he murmured, unbothered. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll be begging me for a kiss later.”

Still, she said nothing.

But her heart was pounding too hard now, the blood in her veins rushing with heat she hadn’t felt before. Not for any sailor. Not for any prince. She'd lured kings to their deaths, sung admirals into the sea. But this man—this pirate captain with maddening confidence and too-sharp eyes—he unsettled her.

She hated how aware she was of his warmth, how close he was, how his scent smelled like salt and smoke and danger. How he looked at her like he already owned her. It made her want to bite him.

And… something else.

Donghyuck watched her closely. He felt the tension in the air, heavy like a storm about to break.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “You stay down here until you’re ready to talk. No water. No sunlight. But—” he held up a finger, “—if you decide to be a good girl and use that mouth for something other than hissing, I’ll move you upstairs. A real bed. Food. Clothes. I might even let you sit next to me at dinner.”

She bared her teeth at him again, eyes narrowed to slits.

Donghyuck smiled like she’d kissed him.

“Prison hold it is.”

He stood, and before she could react, he grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up over his shoulder with ease. She let out a muffled, furious grunt, fists pounding his back uselessly.

“Careful,” he teased, “or I might think you like being carried.”

He marched back through the brig, kicking the door open with his boot before tossing her back onto the cell’s cot like she weighed nothing. She landed with a thud, glaring murder up at him.

Donghyuck only laughed.

“You’re going to make this so much fun.”

The cell clanged shut. The keys jangled.

And the siren, still stubborn and silent, was left wondering how this man had made her body burn hotter than anything she’d felt in her immortal life.

--------------

The brig was silent except for the creak of the ship and the faint hum of the sea beneath.

Y/N sat with her back to the wall, wrists still bound behind her, gagged again after yet another failed attempt to tempt her into speech. Her sharp eyes were half-lidded, watching, waiting. Every moment on this wretched dry ship made her feel weaker, and angrier. And worse than all of it… hotter. Her body kept reacting to him—to Donghyuck—and she loathed it.

So she was all venom and stillness when the cell door creaked open without warning.

Two sailors stepped into the dim brig, lanterns swinging in their hands. They were younger. Nervous. Curious. Their eyes gleamed with something darker than fascination.

“Well, would you look at that,” one muttered, stepping closer to the bars. “They weren’t lying… she’s real.”

The second one whistled. “A real siren. I heard they can turn your brain to mush with a song… but they’ve got to be wetto do it, right? She’s harmless like this.”

They laughed under their breath, the kind of laugh that made her blood run cold with rage.

“Captain’ll kill us if he finds us down here,” one whispered, even as he pulled the key off the wall hook. “Just a look.”

“Maybe a kiss,” the other one snickered. “They say if you kiss a siren, you can breathe underwater. Could be useful.”

Y/N snarled into her gag, straining against the ropes.

“Oh, hush,” the first one said, stepping into the cell. “Let’s see if it’s true.”

She didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. She waited.

The man crouched beside her and reached forward, tugging the gag from her mouth with a grin. “Pretty lips,” he muttered.

The second his hand moved toward her face again—

She struck.

Her mouth snapped open and her fangs sank deep into the meat of his palm. He screamed, a piercing, ragged sound as blood gushed from the wound. He stumbled backward, crashing into the floor, shrieking.

“You bitch!” the second sailor shouted, lunging forward. He tried to grab her, wrestling her down with his arms, trying to force her flat.

Y/N screamed, voice hoarse but full of fury, thrashing against his weight.

Then—

BANG.

The second sailor’s body stiffened.

Blood bloomed from his chest like spilled wine.

He crumpled beside her with a heavy thud, eyes wide, dead before he hit the ground.

Y/N froze.

The remaining man was still groaning on the floor, clutching his hand.

And behind him, standing in the doorway, was Donghyuck.

Eyes dark. Jaw clenched. Gun still smoking.

His gaze swept over the scene. The blood. Her body. Her ragged breath.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low.

Y/N stared at him.

And then bared her teeth.

She hissed, chest rising and falling, fangs still stained red.

Donghyuck exhaled sharply and stepped into the cell, grabbing the gag from the floor and slipping it gently back between her lips. She growled, biting the cloth this time as if it offended her more than anything else.

“I never meant to put you in danger,” he muttered, voice tight with something like guilt. “You’re here for one reason—your knowledge of the treasure. That’s it. Once we find it, we part ways. Simple.”

He looked down at the dead man. Then at her.

“I can’t risk this happening again.”

He turned, barking to the crew outside, “Bring chains. And clean this mess up.”

Then to her, he added under his breath, “You’re staying in my quarters from now on. No one touches you. No one looks at you. That’s an order.”

She hissed again, but something in her chest shifted. Something unfamiliar. Heat mixed with… something that almost felt like safety.

Later that night, still gagged and still seething, Y/N sat in the corner of Donghyuck’s captain’s quarters—lavish, dark wood, lanterns swaying softly with the tide. She watched him from across the room as he scrubbed blood from his hands at the basin, back tense.

She didn’t speak, but she listened.

He stormed out to the deck minutes later.

And from the shadows, she heard his voice boom out across the crew:

“If anyone so much as thinks about stepping foot near her again without my permission,” Donghyuck shouted, voice like fire, “they’ll meet the same fate. I don’t care if it’s my first mate or my brother—death. No warnings.”

Silence.

Only the ocean dared to move after that.

And back in his cabin, Y/N closed her eyes, her heart beating too loud in her ears. She didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself—but for the first time since being dragged onto this cursed ship…

She wasn’t afraid.

The cabin swayed gently with the sea, wood groaning as if sighing under the tension inside.

Donghyuck had stripped his jacket first. Then his boots. Now, shirt half-unbuttoned, he stood in front of the small mirror, running a hand through his damp hair. The heat from the lanterns clung to the room like breath on skin, and he didn’t hide what he was doing—undressing, towel slung around his neck, muscles flexing as he dried his arms.

Y/N sat in the corner chair, chains loose enough now to allow movement, gag removed for dinner.

She didn’t eat.

She watched.

Unblinking.

Her green eyes raked over his torso, his hips, the patch of bare skin revealed with every shift of his shirt. She showed no shame, no embarrassment. Naked herself, her legs now fully formed, knees pulled loosely to her chest. There was no modesty in the way she sat. Sirens didn’t understand modesty.

Donghyuck noticed, of course. Every glance. Every breath.

He set down the towel and turned toward her with a cocky smirk.

“You just going to stare all night, sweetheart?”

She tilted her head slowly, voice low, rough from disuse.

“Why do humans wear clothes?”

Donghyuck froze.

He turned, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “You just spoke.”

She didn’t react to his surprise. Just stared. “Answer me.”

He leaned back against the table, arms crossed. “Well,” he drawled, “humans wear clothes for privacy. Modesty. Protection. Shame, maybe. Though…” he smirked again, eyes dragging down her body, “not all of us care much for any of those things.”

Her gaze narrowed slightly. “I don’t understand. What is there to be ashamed of?”

He chuckled. “I don’t know if you’re brave, clueless, or both.”

He took a step toward her. Then another.

Close enough to make the air shift between them.

“Do sirens have sex?” he asked casually, voice low and dangerous.

Y/N’s eyes widened. Her breath caught. “That’s none of your business,” she snapped, voice raspier now, cheeks flushing.

“Oh,” he said, leaning in, just enough that she could feel his breath against her cheek. “You’re shy now?” He tilted his head. “So maybe you do understand shame.”

She didn’t move. But her eyes flicked away for the first time, lips slightly parted, breath unsteady. The strange ache between her legs was growing again. Sharp and hot. Her body didn’t feel like hers anymore. The tail she once had had never throbbed like this.

Donghyuck smiled darkly, voice dropping to a near-whisper.

“You’re missing out,” he murmured. “Nothing feels better than being stretched out… by the right man.”

Y/N gasped.

The heat pulsed between her thighs, involuntary and unbearable. She clenched her legs together, swallowing hard.

He backed up with a smirk, hands raised.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said lightly. “I’m not touching you.”

He turned his back, walking toward the washbasin.

“But I need a cold shower.”

--------------

The captain’s quarters were dark, save for the soft sway of the oil lantern hanging above the bed. The ship rocked gently beneath them, a lullaby for the damned.

Y/N lay beside Donghyuck, her wrists still chained loosely to the bedframe. Her gag remained—softened now, cloth instead of rope—but still firm in its purpose. Her sharp fangs had proven too dangerous to trust, even when she slept.

She wore one of his shirts, oversized and hanging off her body in soft folds. He’d pulled it over her head hours ago with grumbled concern—“can’t have you freezing and dying before you tell me where the damn treasure is.” But now…

Now she was writhing in the sheets.

Donghyuck blinked awake, breath catching when he realized what he was seeing.

Y/N’s back arched gently, body twisting, her thighs clenching and shifting under the covers. Her chest rose and fell fast, nipples pebbling through the thin fabric of his shirt. Sweat gleamed on her skin like ocean mist, lips parted around the gag as low, sweet moans slipped from her throat—soft, needy, unaware.

She was dreaming.

And it was filthy.

Donghyuck stayed frozen for a beat, then slowly turned onto his side, watching.

Watching as she arched again, helpless to the sensations wracking her body.

A lazy, smug smile spread across his face. He tucked a hand under his head, just enjoying the show.

“You’re so sexy,” he whispered, almost to himself.

Her eyes fluttered open with a soft gasp, brows pinched in confusion, body still shivering.

Donghyuck leaned over her, eyes locked on hers. He cupped her jaw roughly, tilting her face toward him.

“Did you have a good dream?” he asked, voice low and rough, taunting. “Huh, sweetheart? Was it me you were dreaming about?”

She whimpered behind the gag, stunned by the intensity of what she felt—her thighs slick, her core throbbing. Nothing had ever felt like this before. Not in the sea. Not in her tail.

Donghyuck’s nose grazed her neck, inhaling deeply. Her scent was sweeter than before—ripe with heat.

“Fuck,” he muttered, yanking himself back suddenly like he’d been burned. “You’re dangerous.”

He threw himself onto his back, arm over his eyes, breathing heavy.

Beside him, Y/N let out a frustrated, muffled shriek. Her body was a wildfire she couldn’t douse, and he was the match that lit it. She glared at him, then at herself, furious with the aching between her legs, the wetness, the longing. She’d never wanted anyone—certainly not a human. But Donghyuck was ruining her. And she hated how good it felt.

-------------

Donghyuck sat her beside him at the long dining table on deck, the chains still discreetly hidden under the tablecloth. She wore a second shirt now—tighter, cleaner, less oversized—but the gag was finally gone.

Her eyes were sharp as ever, scanning the gathered crew like a cornered animal.

She didn’t touch the food in front of her.

The rest of the crew avoided looking at her directly, except for the occasional sidelong glance or whispered mutter. The woman who had killed one of their own and left another maimed—what kind of creature had they let onto the ship?

Then a voice cut through the tension, warm and gentle.

“It’s alright.”

Y/N’s eyes flicked up.

Across the table sat a young man—freckles, tousled hair, a soft smile. His posture was relaxed but confident.

“I’m Mark,” he said. “Don’t worry. We’re not going to hurt you. Once all this treasure nonsense is sorted, you’ll be free. I promise.”

Donghyuck glanced at him but said nothing, letting the moment breathe.

Y/N didn’t respond. Not with words. But her gaze lingered. Just for a second.

And then, quietly, without looking away from Mark—

She picked up a piece of fruit and bit into it.

Donghyuck didn’t smile.

But he saw it.

And he didn’t miss the flare of jealousy tightening in his gut.

The captain’s quarters were quiet again. The sound of the ocean just outside the hull, wind brushing over the sails. Lanternlight flickered across polished wood and tattered maps, bathing the room in a soft gold.

Y/N sat on the edge of the captain’s bed, legs crossed, chains still looped gently around her ankles and one wrist. She could move freely within the space, but not far enough to escape. Not yet.

Donghyuck stood across the room, cleaning his pistol, back turned.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, voice smooth but sharp. “Even if I lead you to the treasure… you won’t survive it.”

He paused, the soft click of metal stopping mid-motion.

“There are traps,” she continued. “Ancient ones. Ones meant to tear men like you apart.”

He glanced over his shoulder, brow quirked, smirking. “Men like me?”

“Greedy. Arrogant. Mortal.”

He turned to face her fully, arms folding across his chest. “I appreciate the concern,” he drawled, “but don’t worry about me, sweetheart. I’ve survived worse than a few booby traps.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes—and then, without warning, reached for the hem of the shirt he’d given her. She tugged it over her head and dropped it carelessly onto the bed beside her.

Nude. Unbothered.

Like the sea had never taught her modesty.

“This thing is restricting,” she said simply. “Annoying in the heat.”

Donghyuck froze.

His gaze raked over her—bare legs, full breasts, soft stomach, smooth skin shimmering slightly from the heat of the room. His jaw flexed. He turned his head and dragged a hand down his face, exhaling slowly like trying to anchor himself.

Y/N noticed.

Her voice came low and amused. “Why do you always get so fidgety when I take my clothes off?”

Donghyuck dragged his eyes back to hers. There was no smirk now—just something darker.

“Because you’re the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he said. “And I’m trying very hard not to ruin you before you beg me to.”

Her lips parted.

Then she scowled.

“You’re filthy,” she snapped. “That’ll never happen.”

He grinned lazily, stepping closer, unbothered. “We’ll see.”

The silence that followed was thick. It throbbed.

Then he cleared his throat and turned toward the table, grabbing the covered tray he’d brought earlier. He set it down beside her on the bed and lifted the lid.

“Dinner.”

She eyed the food, then her wrists.

“My chains hurt,” she said. “Feed me.”

His eyes narrowed. “You bite me, I shoot you.”

She tilted her chin defiantly. “You won't. You like me too much.”

His jaw ticked.

But he reached for a fork.

Y/N sat up straighter, letting her thighs spread a little wider, back arching just enough to make it clear she wasn’t shy. She opened her mouth slightly, waiting.

Donghyuck brought the fork to her lips.

The moment was too quiet. Too hot. She leaned forward and took the bite slowly, lips brushing the metal, eyes locked on his the entire time. He could feel her breath on his fingers.

He swallowed hard.

“Fuck, you’re dangerous,” he muttered.

She smiled wickedly, licking her lips. “You said that already.”

He fed her again, and again. Closer. Slower. Each bite a challenge, each glance a test of will.

She could feel his thigh just inches from hers, the warmth of his skin, the tight control in every motion. Her body pulsed with the same restless, aching heat as the night before. She didn’t understand it—but she knew it was his fault. He was the reason her new legs trembled and her core clenched and her skin felt too hot to touch.

And yet…

She opened her mouth again.

And Donghyuck, lips parted, breathing harder now, gave her one more bite.

Then another.

Until he was very sure he needed to leave before he forgot all his rules.

--------------

The captain’s quarters were too warm again.

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her legs dangling off the side, the remains of dinner pushed aside. Her skin still glistened slightly with heat, her breath just a touch too shallow, chest rising and falling beneath the loose shirt she’d reluctantly thrown on after their intimate feeding.

Donghyuck leaned against the far wall, arms folded, shirt untucked now, damp curls clinging to his forehead. He watched her. Always watching her.

She shifted, tugging at the collar of the shirt. “Why does my body… feel like this?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Hot. Tight. Weak.” She scowled at her own thighs. “It’s like something’s pulling at me. Inside.”

Donghyuck bit back a groan. He walked slowly toward the bed, crouched down in front of her, hands braced on his knees.

“That’s called arousal, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and smug. “It means your body wants something.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That can’t be it.”

He leaned in. Close. Close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips. “Oh, it’s it. Trust me.”

Y/N’s legs twitched. Her breath caught. Her mouth opened like she might ask something else—but then—

BANG. BANG. BANG.

The sound of a fist pounding the captain’s door.

Donghyuck groaned in frustration, standing.

“What?” he barked.

“Storm’s rolling in fast,” a voice called from outside. “Wind’s shifting hard. Could get ugly.”

Donghyuck ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. Then turned to Y/N with a sigh, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the timing.

“Of course,” he muttered. “Always when it’s getting good.”

He crossed the room, unlocked the door, and opened it—revealing Mark standing at attention.

“Stay here,” he ordered. “She doesn’t leave. No one goes in or out unless it’s me.”

Mark nodded quickly. “Aye, Captain.”

Donghyuck turned back to her once more, smirking. “Be good, sweetheart. We’ll finish this talk later.”

Then he was gone, boots thudding down the stairs as the storm began to howl outside.

Mark stood awkwardly in the corner, eyes on the floor.

Y/N sat still for a while, silent.

“You can sit,” she said after a long pause. “I’m not going to eat you.”

Mark laughed nervously, pulling over a chair. “Sorry. I just— I’ve never seen another siren before or been this close to one.”

“I figured.”

“You… look more human than I thought you would.”

She smirked. “Is that disappointing?”

He looked flustered. “No! No, not at all. You’re, uh… beautiful. I mean. You know. For a creature that eats sailors.”

Y/N’s laughter was soft, surprising even herself. “You’re not like the others.”

Mark’s cheeks flushed. “I just think… it’s wrong to treat you like a prisoner when you haven’t even done anything to us yet. At least not something anyone didn't deserve”

She tilted her head. “So innocent,” she muttered under her breath.

Mark cleared his throat and tried not to look at her too long—but his eyes flickered down her body again before jerking away. “You, um… don’t like wearing clothes, do you?”

“No.” She stood slowly, letting the shirt she’d taken off earlier slip through her fingers. “They don’t make sense.”

Mark turned bright red, eyes immediately snapping to the ceiling. “Could you— maybe just put it back on? Please?”

She grinned, amused. “You’re no fun.”

But she slipped the shirt back on anyway.

Not for modesty.

For him.

An hour later, the door creaked open again.

Donghyuck returned soaked to the bone, hair dripping, shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. He looked wild, wind-whipped, and irritated—but his eyes landed on Y/N immediately, scanning for any signs of disobedience. Then flicked briefly to Mark.

“She behave?” he asked.

Mark nodded. “Yes, Captain. Quiet as a tidepool.”

“Good.” Donghyuck clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re dismissed. Go help the others prep for the storm. Tie everything down.”

Mark hesitated just a second, glanced back at Y/N, then nodded again and slipped out.

Donghyuck turned toward her slowly, eyes darker now, tension rolling off him in waves.

“It’s gonna be a busy night,” he said, voice quiet. “Don’t try anything.”

She lifted her chin. “I won’t.”

“Good. Because even if you did…” he stepped forward, close enough to make her breath catch, “we’re too far from your precious waters. Weeks away. That’s assuming you even know how to find your way home.”

She didn’t reply—but she felt the reminder sink into her stomach like a stone.

He stepped back, peeling off his wet shirt, muscles flexing in the low light.

Y/N’s thighs pressed together without her meaning to.

And Donghyuck—smirking now, towel in hand—noticed.

------------

The storm battered the ship from all sides, waves crashing like thunder, the hull creaking under nature’s weight. But inside the captain’s quarters, the real chaos was simmering under skin.

Y/N couldn’t sit still.

Her legs pressed together, thighs clenching and rubbing in search of friction. Her breaths were shallow, desperate. She paced, then sat, then squirmed in the chair near the bed, her chains clinking softly with every twitch.

“I feel like I’m going to explode,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “Like I’m being punished.”

Across the room, Donghyuck leaned back in his chair with maddening calm, sweat on his brow despite the cool sea air. He gave her a lazy smirk, eyes dragging down her bare legs, her parted lips, the clear desperation in every movement of her hips.

“I could fix that,” he said casually, voice low and obscene. “One good fuck, and you’d stop whining. You’d forget your name. Forget the treasure. Forget your tail ever existed.”

“Shut up,” she snapped, screeching, pushing off the wall.

He didn’t stop. Didn’t even flinch.

“I’d fuck you right here,” he murmured. “Bent over this chair, your ass high, screaming my name while I ruin your tight, virgin—”

She shoved him, furious, her entire body burning.

But the anger wasn’t enough to stop the heat pulsing between her legs, slick and aching and starved. Her breaths came faster now. Her body moved on its own.

She fell back into the chair and finally—finally—spread her legs wide.

Right in front of him.

And slid her hand between them.

Donghyuck’s mouth went dry.

Y/N moaned softly, fingers brushing her soaked slit, back arching, hair sticking to her sweat-damp neck. Her eyes fluttered shut, biting her lip, grinding down against her own hand like she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck—” Donghyuck stood up fast, storming toward her. “No.”

Before she could get any relief, he grabbed her wrist and yanked it away. “You don’t get to touch yourself like that in mychair.”

She growled, struggling. “You’re the reason I feel like this! You—you did something to me!”

Donghyuck tightened the chains at her wrists, locking her arms behind the chairpost this time, more secure. “Damn right I did.”

“I hate you,” she hissed, grinding herself down against the edge of the chair instead, desperate now, wild. “I hate this—!”

Her shirt rode up, bare heat pressing into the wood, her hips working back and forth in quick, helpless bursts. She moaned through gritted teeth, unable to stop.

Donghyuck stood frozen for a second, chest heaving, sweat rolling down his temple. He was rock hard now, and furious about it.

Then he snapped.

In one motion, he grabbed her and hauled her up—slamming her back against the wall, her wrists still pinned, her body flush to his front.

“You need to fucking stop,” he growled, voice shredded and desperate, his breath hot against her neck. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

His hips were pressed into her ass, his hardness impossible to ignore. His hand braced next to her head, the other gripping the chain at her wrists.

She squirmed in his hold, panting, not even trying to deny how wet she was now, how badly her body was begging for him.

Donghyuck’s mouth hovered at her ear. His voice was broken and raw.

“If you don’t stop grinding that sweet little cunt on my wall, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”

Y/N whimpered, biting her lip, her thighs trembling.

He pulled away with effort, pacing back like a caged animal.

“Cold shower,” he muttered, half to himself. “I need—another fucking—cold shower.”

The door slammed behind him as he left.

Y/N slid down the wall, still breathing like she’d run a mile, her body wrecked and unsatisfied, trembling with need.

And for the first time, she whispered into the empty room,

“…please.”

--------------

The storm howled like a living beast.

Waves slammed against the ship, wood groaning, sails snapping in the wind. Y/N sat in the captain’s quarters, arms still chained, legs twitching with every crash of thunder. She could hear yelling. Panic. Footsteps pounding on soaked wood.

She smirked to herself, lips curling.

Serves them right, she thought. Kidnapping a siren… the sea always takes what it’s owed.

Then came the scream.

A different kind of scream.

“Man overboard!”

And then Donghyuck’s voice, raw and broken, cutting through the chaos.

“MARK!”

Y/N’s heart stopped.

She didn’t know why. Didn’t want to know. But her body moved before her mind could stop it.

She yanked against the chains. The wood creaked. Her pulse thundered louder than the storm.

The door was locked.

But not for long.

She hurled herself against it, over and over, rage and panic giving her unnatural strength. Finally, with a splintering crack, it burst open—her bare feet hitting the wet deck, hair whipping around her face as rain poured down like knives.

The crew turned, shocked by the sight of her. One flash of glowing green eyes, bare legs morphing mid-sprint into her glittering tail, and then—

She dove.

Smooth and silent.

The sea swallowed her whole.

Donghyuck stood at the railing, rain blinding him, chest heaving. His heart sank. She’s gone. She escaped. Mark’s dead. He lost them both.

Then—

“Captain!”

A cry from the lookout.

He turned—

And saw her.

Y/N broke the surface a few feet away, struggling against the current but slicing through the waves with practiced ease. In her arms was Mark, limp but breathing, blood running from his temple.

She swam toward the rope ladder with all the strength she had left.

Hands reached down to help them up—crew pulling Mark up first, shouting orders, pressing on his chest.

Donghyuck dropped to his knees beside him.

“Breathe, Mark—breathe, damn it—”

Mark choked suddenly, coughing up water. His eyes opened, wide and dazed.

The crew let out a collective cry of relief.

Donghyuck exhaled like he’d been underwater himself.

Then slowly, his eyes rose—

And locked on her.

Y/N, still soaked, her long tail glittering beneath her, skin pale and trembling. She clung to the side of the ship, arms shaking as she tried to haul herself further onboard, struggling between tail and legs, caught in the in-between.

She was free.

She had water. She had her voice.

She could’ve sung them all to the bottom of the ocean.

But she didn’t.

She just… stared at him.

Her green eyes blazing. Her face unreadable. The siren in her was alive—but so was something else. Something cracked wide open in her chest.

Donghyuck stood, staring back, drenched and stunned.

She hissed softly when she slipped, tail thudding against the slick deck. She couldn’t stand—not with her legs gone again.

He didn’t say a word.

He just walked over, slid his arms beneath her, and lifted her easily against his chest.

Her head rested against his shoulder, but she didn’t speak.

He didn’t look at her again.

Just turned and carried her silently back into the captain’s quarters, sea-soaked and glowing and heavier than anything he’d ever held.

He set her down gently on the bed.

And walked back out, closing the door behind him, jaw clenched as he went to check on Mark.

----------

The noon sun pierced through a blanket of gray clouds, casting the deck in a soft, golden light. The worst of the storm had passed. The crew moved slower today—tired, hungover on fear—but when Y/N stepped out from below deck, every head turned.

This time, no one whispered.

They stood still. Silent. And then—

A chorus of nods.

Some gave awkward bows. Others mumbled their thanks.

One even left a piece of fruit at her seat before scurrying off.

Y/N blinked, suspicious.

“What is this?”

Donghyuck, seated beside her at the long wooden table, didn’t look up.

“They’re grateful,” he muttered. “You saved Mark. They thought you’d let him drown.”

Y/N scoffed. “I thought about it.”

The crew laughed nervously.

Then Mark appeared.

Hair still damp, temple bandaged, eyes soft.

He came to her side, his steps slow but sure.

“I owe you my life,” he said quietly.

Y/N stared at him for a long time, then picked up a piece of bread, tearing it in half.

“You saved me first,” she said. “You treated me like a person.”

Mark smiled, lips twitching like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to.

Y/N finally ate. Cleaned her plate in silence. The rest of the crew subtly relaxed, the atmosphere growing warmer as the waves calmed.

She stood up abruptly.

“I want to go back to my room.”

Donghyuck raised a brow but didn’t argue. “It’s actually my room.”

She shot him a glare. “Not anymore.”

He stood, motioning for her to follow, still oddly quiet since last night.

The door shut with a soft click. Y/N padded across the floor, tail now gone, legs beneath her again. She sat on the edge of the bed, folding one leg beneath her, eyes on him.

Donghyuck remained standing.

Silent.

Brooding.

“What’s your problem?” she asked.

He didn’t look at her.

“You’ve barely looked at me all day,” she said. “I saved your crew. I saved Mark. You’d think you’d be a little more charming again.”

Donghyuck ran a hand through his hair and let out a long, ragged breath.

“You did,” he said. “You did save him. And I… have no fucking clue what to do with that.”

He finally looked at her. Really looked at her.

“All I’ve done is kidnap you. Chain you up. Threaten you. And you still—” his jaw tightened. “You still dove into a storm and brought back the one person I can’t live without.”

Y/N’s gaze didn’t soften. But something in her expression shifted—like the weight of what they were finally naming was too heavy to ignore.

“I didn’t do it for you,” she said.

“I know.”

Silence.

Then—

“I’ll tell you where the gold is.”

Donghyuck blinked.

She stood, moving closer, stopping just in front of him.

“But once we find it,” she said quietly, “you let me go. We both know I could've sunk your entire crew and ship last night, but I didn't. I have no idea where we are and when I'm free, I want to go. I get you to your gold, you get me home. Deal?”

He swallowed. Hard.

“It’s a deal,” he said. “And I’ll give you anything else you want.”

Y/N laughed. Low. Bitter.

“There’s nothing you can give me.”

And she walked away.

Leaving Donghyuck staring after her, pulse racing, knowing damn well—

That wasn’t true.

------------

The village was small, nestled between jagged cliffs and churning sea. It was the first time Y/N had stepped on land since being dragged aboard Donghyuck’s ship, and the feeling was strange. Every texture beneath her bare feet, every new smell and sound made her pause with wide eyes and tilted head.

“Stay close,” Donghyuck muttered, his hand wrapping around hers. “There are more people here than fish.”

Y/N’s fingers twitched in his grasp. Her skin prickled at the contact — his palm warm and calloused, grounding her — and yet charged, like lightning might crackle from it at any moment. She didn’t pull away.

He didn’t either.

They walked through the narrow, cobbled streets, Donghyuck’s oversized shirt hanging off her shoulders, the belt tied too tight around her waist to keep it from slipping. She looked half wild, half regal — a siren in borrowed skin.

Heads turned. Men stared.

Donghyuck’s grip tightened.

When they entered the tailor’s shop, the bell chimed overhead.

A petite woman with silver rings on every finger looked up and beamed. “Ah! Finally, someone with taste. And—” her eyes drifted to Y/N, widening in delight. “Oh my stars. She’s beautiful.”

Y/N blinked. “You’re… more gorgeous.”

The woman laughed brightly. “What a charmer.”

Donghyuck watched in stunned silence as Y/N let herself be measured, lifted her arms, turned around, touched all the fabrics with reverence. The tailor cooed and fussed over her, telling her what colors would make her glow (as if she didn’t already), calling her skin luminous, her body perfect.

“She’s shy,” Donghyuck said offhandedly.

“I am not,” Y/N said immediately.

The tailor grinned. “You two make a cute couple.”

Both Y/N and Donghyuck froze.

“No - were not - I would never...,” they said at once, speaking over each other.

But their eyes met — and held — for a second too long.

Neither of them looked away first.

----------

Y/N gasped as they passed a group of giggling children chasing a dog through the square.

“What are those?” she whispered urgently.

Donghyuck blinked. “Kids.”

She crouched, watching them with wide, fascinated eyes. “Why are those humans so small and… cute? Are they a different breed?”

He laughed, actually laughed, and the sound made her stomach twist.

“They’re just younger,” he said. “You grow into one of me eventually.”

“Gross,” she muttered.

-----------

The tavern was loud, packed, lit with flickering torches. Music played in one corner, boots stomping on wood, laughter echoing through beer-frothed air.

Donghyuck sat at the bar with Y/N beside him, her new fitted dress snug on her hips, sleeves slipping off her shoulders. She drew attention wherever she went — but she didn’t notice. She was too busy studying how beer foamed or how humans laughed with their teeth.

Then she approached.

Tall. Stunning. Curved like the ocean. A woman in red leaned over Donghyuck’s shoulder with a coy smile, her voice honey-slick.

“Well well. Captain, you’re a long way from your usual ports.”

Donghyuck smirked. “You know me?”

“I never forget a handsome face.”

Y/N didn’t understand what was happening at first. Just that something in her belly twisted watching the woman touch his chest.

Then the woman leaned in closer — too close — and Donghyuck didn’t push her away.

Y/N’s lip curled.

She stepped forward.

Her fangs slid out like silver and she let out a powerful hiss, her eyes glowing green.

The woman screamed and stumbled back, heels catching on the floor before she bolted out of the tavern, her drink crashing to the ground behind her.

Silence fell for a beat. Then people laughed.

Donghyuck turned to her, stunned. “What the hell was that?”

Y/N shrugged, licking her teeth and smiling, unbothered. “She was annoying me.”

Donghyuck narrowed his eyes, biting back a smile. “You jealous, sweetheart?”

She tilted her head, that same smug grin on her lips. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But she didn’t move from his side.

And when he threw an arm over the back of her chair — casually, lazily, like he was just stretching — she didn’t move away either.

-------------

The tavern was starting to fill with the night crowd — sailors, locals, girls in bright dresses, and men already leaning too close to too many glasses. The buzz of music and clinking tankards grew louder by the minute.

Y/N sat at their table beside Donghyuck, brows furrowed as he drained the last of his drink and stood up with a sigh.

“Go back to the ship,” he muttered, waving Mark over with a lazy flick of his fingers. “Take her with you. We leave first thing in the morning.”

Y/N blinked. “No.”

Donghyuck raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“I’ll stay with you.”

“You’re not,” he said firmly, already stepping away from the table. “It’s not safe for you out here at night. I want to drink. I can’t protect you when I’m drunk.”

“I don’t need protecting,” she snapped, standing too. “Not from men. Not from you.”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking tired. “Y/N—”

“Why?” she demanded. “So you can find some random woman to drag into bed?”

He let out a hollow laugh. A short, humorless thing.

Then he turned on her—suddenly, sharply—and shoved her back against the wooden wall of the bar. The impact made the entire tavern blur for a moment, air knocked from her lungs as his hand grabbed her jaw, holding her face.

His body was flush with hers.

His voice was low and dangerous.

“I can sleep with whoever I want.”

Y/N’s mouth parted, eyes narrowed—but she didn’t speak.

Donghyuck’s grip tightened slightly, breath warm on her cheek.

“But I won’t,” he growled. “Because it turns out, my body only fucking responds to you. So no, sweetheart. No one else is touching me tonight.”

His gaze dragged over her face, lingering on her lips, his jaw flexing like he hated the truth coming out of his own mouth.

“I just need some damn space.”

Y/N smiled then.

Sweet.

Mocking.

With fire in her eyes.

“Well,” she said coolly, “have all the damn space you want.”

She shoved him back with both hands — hard — and without looking at him again, turned and stormed across the tavern, grabbing Mark by the arm.

“Take me to the ship.”

Mark glanced between them, wide-eyed, but nodded. “Yes. Yeah—okay.”

They disappeared into the night.

Donghyuck watched her go, fists clenched at his sides, chest tight and head swimming with regret.

But he didn’t follow.

Not yet.

The tavern was almost empty when Donghyuck stumbled back into the captain’s quarters.

He’d sobered up halfway on the walk.

Partially from the night air.

Mostly from the regret.

The room was dim, lantern burning low.

Y/N was already asleep — curled on the far edge of the bed, facing the wall, arms crossed, the sheets pulled all the way around her like a cocoon. She was hogging every single blanket on the mattress, leaving none for him.

Donghyuck stood there in silence.

And just… stared.

At the stubborn set of her back. The way her hair tangled against the pillow. The rise and fall of her breath.

The space between them had never felt so suffocating.

He dropped into the bed beside her, careful not to touch her.

But his eyes stayed on her for a long, long time.

---------

The journey toward the lost treasure had begun.

The ocean was calm. The crew worked with quiet determination. And Y/N…

Y/N didn’t speak a single word to Donghyuck.

She laughed with the crew. Teased Mark. Even offered to help scrub decks just to learn how humans used “buckets.” But whenever Donghyuck walked past her, whenever he entered a room or tried to catch her eye—

She didn’t flinch.

Didn’t look.

Didn’t speak.

She was the picture of peace.

And it drove him insane.

“Can you pass me that rope?” she asked Mark sweetly.

“Y-yeah, of course,” he stammered, handing it over with shaking fingers.

They stood near the helm, the sea stretching wide and endless around them, the sun beating down on their shoulders.

Donghyuck stood just behind them, arms crossed, eyes burning into Y/N’s back.

“So…” Y/N said casually, tying the rope. “When you have sex… does it hurt at first?”

Mark went beet red.

“I—uh—that’s not—” He choked. “I mean, it depends! I—I wouldn’t know exactly from your perspective but I’ve read that—uh—some people—”

Donghyuck stepped in sharply. “Don’t ask him that.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, unbothered. “Why not?”

“If you want to talk about sex, you talk to me. No one else.”

She stared at him, gaze cool and sharp like sea glass.

“I’ll talk about whatever I want,” she said. “With whoever I want.”

Mark swallowed. “I’m just gonna… check the rigging. Over there. Far away. Yup.”

And he was gone.

Silence fell between them.

The wind tugged at her hair. Her jaw clenched.

“Why can’t you ever just listen to me?” Donghyuck asked, exasperated.

“Why the hell would I listen to my kidnapper?” she snapped.

He stepped closer.

Tension sparked between them instantly.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Fine,” she said, sharp and defiant. “Answer my question. When does the feeling go away? The heat. The ache. It’s constant.”

Donghyuck’s breath hitched. Then his smile — slow and dark — curled across his lips like oil spreading on water.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, circling her, voice low enough that only she could hear. “It doesn’t just go away. You have to work it out of your system.”

She inhaled sharply.

His hand ghosted along the edge of the railing beside her, not touching, but close enough to make her skin prickle.

“It starts with the stretch,” he said. “At first, you’ll think it’s too much. You’ll grip the sheets, maybe my arms, try to close your legs—but I’ll keep pushing. Keep rocking deeper until I hit that perfect little spot inside of you.”

Her throat bobbed with a gasp. Her eyes widened.

“And when I find it?” He smiled. “You’ll scream.”

His hand rested on the railing now, brushing hers.

“You’ll beg—maybe for me to stop, maybe for more. But I won’t stop. Not until I feel you clench around me. Until you come so hard you forget you ever had a tail.”

Y/N’s breath came in shallow, rapid bursts.

Her lips parted, face flushed, thighs pressed together like she could trap the heat and hide it.

Donghyuck leaned closer, his mouth inches from hers.

“Then,” he whispered, “and only then, you’ll finally feel relief.”

She gasped again, trembling now, breath hot and uneven against his mouth.

But he didn’t kiss her.

Didn’t touch her.

He stepped back slowly, eyes blazing.

“It’s maddening being near you,” he said roughly. “I can’t think. I can’t sleep. I can’t breathe.”

Y/N stared at him, frozen.

Every nerve in her body alive. Her heart hammering like the sea in a storm.

And Donghyuck turned away—

Before he did something they couldn’t undo.

--------

The fight still lingered in the air — sharp and heavy, like salt in a wound. Neither had spoken in hours. Not a word when the cabin door slammed. Not when they stripped down. Not when they climbed into bed.

Y/N faced the wall.

Donghyuck lay behind her, stiff and silent. His breathing was slow now, deep — finally asleep.

She wasn’t.

Not with her thighs clenched, her heart pounding, her pride bruised and burning. They hadn’t touched in days. Not since the last argument. And tonight’s silence was unbearable.

Still, she refused to turn around. Refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing how badly she needed him.

But gods — she did.

Just once, she told herself. If she could just feel him once, maybe she’d sleep again.

So she moved.

Carefully.

Slowly, she turned, crawling over to him, straddling his waist beneath the thin blanket. He didn’t stir. His brows were relaxed in the dim light, lips parted slightly. Moonlight spilled across his cheekbones, softening the edges of a face she couldn’t stop dreaming about.

“Fuck,” she whispered, breath hitching. “You’re so handsome it hurts.”

She pulled his shirt — hers, really — off her shoulders, too hot to breathe, her skin prickling with nerves. Naked now, she placed her palms on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her fingertips. Her hips moved on instinct, rolling slowly, gasping softly at the friction of her bare pussy dragging against the thick fabric of his underclothes.

He groaned — in his sleep.

Her eyes widened.

Then he bucked his hips up, unconscious but needy, grinding into her with a hardness that was growing fast beneath her.

Her jaw dropped in a silent moan, heat surging through her entire body. She couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to stop. Her hips moved again, and again — smoother now, bolder.

Then—

Donghyuck’s eyes snapped open.

And in one fluid, furious motion, he flipped her onto her back, pressing her into the mattress with his hand around her throat.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growled, voice low and dangerous.

Y/N arched into him, no shame, just need. “Please,” she whispered, eyes glassy with desire. “Just this once. I need you inside me.”

His grip didn’t tighten, but it stayed firm, keeping her still. His hips settled between her thighs, the outline of his cock pressing right where she wanted it.

“This what it took?” he sneered. “Had to crawl on top of me in the dark like a needy little slut to finally admit you wanted it?”

She whimpered, eyes fluttering, nodding slightly.

He exhaled a long breath — then let go of her throat, only to slide his hand up to cup her jaw. Not tender — just taking control.

“I knew you’d fold,” he murmured, his mouth finding the soft skin of her neck. “Knew you’d come begging eventually.”

He kissed down, never touching her lips, just her throat, her collarbone, lower. When his mouth found her breast, he groaned like it had been haunting him.

“Been dreaming about these,” he muttered against her skin before biting her, tongue soothing the sting right after. His hands kneaded her breasts like he owned them, thumbs circling her nipples until she writhed under him.

Then — finally — he shoved his underclothes down just enough, lined himself up, and without warning, slowly thrust all the way in.

They both moaned — loud, raw, relieved.

“Fuck,” he gasped, burying himself in her warmth. “So tight. So fucking wet. You were ready for me, weren’t you?”

Y/N’s legs wrapped around his waist, her head tipping back, mouth open in a silent cry. She didn’t answer — didn’t need to. Her body answered for her, clenching around him like it never wanted to let go. She had never known such pleasure was possible.

He held still for a moment, buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to hers.

Then he pulled back, and started to move.

Rough and deep, every thrust angled with purpose until she gasped — a sharp sound, body jerking beneath him.

Donghyuck froze. Smiled darkly.

“There it is,” he murmured, grinding into that perfect spot. “That’s the one, huh? That’s where you break.”

She was close. Already unraveling, her hands fumbling for something to hold on to — and he gave her his. Their fingers locked tight, tangled, as he thrust into her again and again, chasing the high he knew would tear her apart.

“Come for me,” he grunted, voice hoarse. “Clench around this cock. Show me how much you needed this.”

Y/N came hard, gasping his name, eyes rolled back as her body shook around him.

He followed right after, moaning into her neck, hips stuttering as he came deep inside her, still pulsing from the strength of it.

Neither of them moved right away. He stayed inside her. She kept clenching around him. His hand in hers. Their bodies still rocking from the aftershocks.

Their lips brushed once.

Almost.

But she turned her head.

And instead, he buried his face in her neck, kissing and biting the skin there like he was claiming it, like that was enough.

----------

The ship set sail at dawn.

The crew moved with purpose, laughter louder than usual, the wind kinder, the ocean calm. It felt like the tide itself was carrying them toward something great. Toward gold.

But there was something else in the air too.

A tension broken. A pressure relieved.

And Mark noticed it the moment he stepped onto the deck.

Y/N walked past him, her skin brighter somehow, the breeze playing through her hair as she gave a quiet, unreadable smile to no one in particular. Not hostile. Not annoyed. Just… content.

Glowing.

And behind her?

Donghyuck.

Looking like the smuggest bastard alive.

Mark stared at the two of them. Back and forth. Then grabbed Donghyuck’s arm as he passed and yanked him toward the stairs.

“What?” Donghyuck said, clearly amused.

Mark didn’t even lower his voice. “You slept with her, didn’t you?”

Donghyuck just smirked.

“You did!” Mark hissed. “Are you out of your mind?”

Donghyuck shrugged, leaning lazily against the railing. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “Wait… kiss? Did you actually kiss her?”

“No,” Donghyuck said, gaze flicking out over the water. “Didn’t want to risk it. If the rumour’s true and kissing a siren lets you breathe underwater… it should be her move, don’t you think?”

Mark blinked. “So you did… everything else?”

Donghyuck didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to.

Mark rubbed his face like he was trying to erase the mental image. “Hyuck… what are you doing? You promised to let her go after the treasure. That was the deal.”

“And nothing’s changed,” Donghyuck said easily. “She told me herself last night. Once the gold’s found, she’s gone. I’m not holding her here.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re thinking clearly,” Mark muttered. “Neither of you are.”

He turned and walked off before Donghyuck could reply.

Donghyuck stayed there, arms crossed, staring out at the horizon.

They were getting close — he could feel it. Every gust of wind in the sails, every shift of the sea whispered it. The map pieces were aligning. The route Y/N had given him made sense now. It was all falling into place.

The treasure he’d spent years chasing was within reach.

But for some reason…

He wasn’t as excited as he thought he’d be.

---------------

They docked at a small island just after midday — a quiet, hidden place off the usual routes, with thick palms, soft sand, and deep lagoons. The crew was eager to stretch their legs, get drunk, and forget, for a few hours at least, the long sea ahead.

But Donghyuck had something else in mind.

"Come on," he muttered to Y/N, not waiting for her to follow. She did anyway, silent as ever, her eyes narrowed.

They hiked through thick brush and winding paths until they reached it — a clear blue oasis tucked between rocks and vines. A hidden pool, glowing in the dappled sunlight. The air was humid. Quiet.

"You can swim here," he said simply, sitting down at the edge of the stone. “Figured you’d want the water more than the crew.”

Y/N stared at him a moment, then stepped into the pool. Her tail unfurled beneath the surface, glinting like cut glass. She sank under, disappearing completely.

Donghyuck exhaled.

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to think about the curve of her back, the way her skin had shimmered just before she slipped beneath the surface. He tried not to feel guilty for still being angry, and still wanting her at the same time.

The water stayed still for several seconds.

Then—

She surfaced.

Only her eyes visible.

Glowing, inhuman, shimmering beneath long wet lashes.

He felt his breath catch.

Slowly, Y/N swam toward him — silent, smooth, her glowing siren eyes fixed on his. The closer she came, the harder it was for Donghyuck to look away. His spine straightened. His muscles tensed.

Then she began to hum.

Low and haunting.

He blinked fast, eyes flickering. His fingers curled into fists.

“Don’t,” he muttered.

But it was already working.

His chest began to rise faster. His heartbeat picked up. His fingers dug into the stone beside him.

Her voice wasn’t even a full melody yet — just the start of a siren’s song, but he felt it — deep, humming in his bones, crawling beneath his skin.

Still underwater, Y/N swam toward him slowly. Gracefully. Like she had all the time in the world.

And he couldn’t move.

The hum wrapped around him like warm silk, coaxing his body forward while his mind screamed to pull back.

His jaw clenched. Every muscle in his body was locked in resistance.

Still, she came.

Rising up from the water, her hands pressed against the stone edge. Her tail glistened as she lifted herself onto the rock beside him. Her body was dripping wet, slick and glowing. His shirt was clinging to her torso — though nearly see-through now — but it was her eyes that held him.

Still glowing. Still singing.

She slid closer. Her palms pressed to his chest.

Haechan’s whole body shuddered.

She stroked along the line of his collarbone, up his throat, over the edge of his jaw.

“You’re shaking,” she said softly, a whisper wrapped in amusement.

His breath was ragged. “You’re doing it again.”

She tilted her head. “You locked me up. Shoved me in chains. What did you think I was going to do? Forgive you?”

“I thought…” His voice wavered. “I thought you might not want to hurt me.”

“I don’t,” she said, voice still light.

Then she leaned in, her lips nearly brushing his jaw.

“But I do want to remind you who I am.”

The humming stopped.

The power dropped like a stone in the water. Haechan let out a shaky breath, blinking fast, like snapping out of a dream. The air around them shifted back to normal.

She looked at him with that same quiet, smug calm—

Then dove into the water again with a twist of her tail, a splash soaking the front of his shirt.

“Hey—!” he sputtered, standing up, blinking through the droplets.

She surfaced several feet away, floating on her back now, looking up at the sky like nothing happened.

He wiped his face and swore under his breath.

She had him completely undone… and she knew it.

Then dove back into the water with a flick of her tail — splashing him hard enough to soak his clothes.

She surfaced once more near the edge of the lagoon, floating on her back like nothing happened, humming a different, sweeter tune this time. His shirt clung to his chest. His heart still hadn’t slowed.

She was playing with him.

And it was working.

The sun had dipped low over the island, casting the oasis in golden light. Haechan sat at the edge again, still wringing seawater from his shirt after her last surprise splash.

Then he felt a sharp tug at his ankle.

Before he could react, Y/N dragged him under.

He gasped—just before the water swallowed him whole.

Everything was blue and silent beneath the surface. Haechan’s eyes opened wide, panic briefly flaring in his chest, but then he saw her — Y/N gliding through the water like a dream, or a warning. Her tail flashed like a blade. Her arms outstretched toward him, eyes glowing, hair floating like ink.

He’d never seen her like this.

Powerful. In her element.

He reached for her, clumsy and human, but she twirled away from him effortlessly, circling him with ease.

She wanted him to see.

She wanted him to know this world wasn’t his.

That it belonged to her.

Haechan lasted maybe a minute.

Then the burn in his lungs became unbearable. He kicked toward the surface, breaking through the water with a sharp gasp, air flooding back into his chest.

He floated there, panting, blinking up at the sky.

Then—ripples.

Y/N surfaced too, silent.

Only her eyes visible again — glowing just above the surface, watching him.

Haechan flinched slightly. “You look terrifying when you do that,” he muttered between breaths.

Her voice cut through the air. Clear. Cool. Confident.

“I know,” she said. “That’s the point.”

It was the first thing she’d said to him in days.

He blinked at her, water dripping down his face. “What you did earlier… with your song. That wasn’t okay.”

Y/N gave a cold little laugh, tilting her head. “Neither was kidnapping me.”

Touché.

The water lapped between them, neither moving closer. But something had shifted — their anger softened by salt and breathlessness, their stubborn pride eroded by the current.

Then, quietly, she asked, “Why is the treasure so important to you anyway?”

She floated closer now, arms crossed over a slick rock, eyes narrowed as she studied him. “You have everything you need already. A ship. A crew that respects you. Power. Freedom.”

Haechan looked away.

He wiped the water from his face and leaned back, resting his elbows on the stone behind him, throat working.

He didn’t answer right away.

Then—he sighed.

“You ever want to stop running?”

Y/N blinked, thrown by the softness in his voice.

“My father was a sailor,” he said. “Honest. Poor. We lived in a shack near the docks. He used to say gold doesn’t matter unless you can rest on it. Unless it lets you stop living with one foot always ready to run.”

Y/N said nothing.

“So yeah,” Haechan muttered. “I want the treasure. I want to stop. I want to buy a patch of land so big no one can find me. Grow fruit, drink rum, sleep in. Not owe a thing to the sea. Or to anyone.”

His voice was quieter now.

“Is that so greedy?”

Y/N stared at him for a long time.

No tricks in her eyes now. No siren glow. Just… curiosity.

And maybe a hint of something softer.

“No,” she said. “It’s not.”

Haechan met her gaze.

The silence between them was different now — deeper.

Then she sank beneath the surface again, leaving only ripples.

But this time, she didn’t disappear.

She circled him once, brushed her fingers lightly along his arm underwater… then surfaced beside him, hip-to-hip, resting her chin on his shoulder with a hum.

Not a spell.

Just a sound.

Just her.

----------

Donghyuck leaned back on his elbows, sweat already glistening along his collarbones, shirt soaked from yn dragging him in earlier, watching Y/N cut through the water like sin given form. She twirled and dipped, sleek and hypnotic, her tail flashing under the surface like temptation itself.

She wasn’t just swimming.

She was performing.

And she wanted him to watch.

His cock had been hard for five minutes straight.

When she finally emerged, she didn’t say a word. Just swam to the shallows and rose — tail shifting mid-step, morphing into long, wet, bare legs. Her nipples were tight from the cool water, and her skin glistened as she sauntered toward him, dripping, powerful, devastating.

She straddled him slowly, pressing her soaked body to his fully clothed one, her heat grinding right onto his cock.

“You’re so obvious,” she whispered against his jaw. “Bringing me out here like this. Just the two of us. All alone. You wanted me loud, didn’t you?”

Donghyuck’s hands gripped her thighs, groaning under his breath. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh?” She rolled her hips, rubbing her slick pussy directly over the thick bulge in his pants. “So it’s just coincidence this place is so damn secluded? Where I can scream your name and no one will hear me?”

She ground down again — harder. “Deny it, Captain. Go on. Dare you.”

He laughed — dark and low.

“You think I brought you here for peace and quiet?” he rasped, grabbing a fistful of her ass, pulling her flush against him. “I brought you here so I could fuck you into the dirt and you wouldn’t have to hold back a single fucking sound.”

Y/N moaned, fingers already tugging his pants down, freeing his cock. She hovered over him, rubbing herself on the tip, teasing them both. “You want to hear me beg?” she whispered.

“No,” Donghyuck growled. “I want to hear you scream.”

She sank down on him in one slow, aching motion, and they both moaned — loud, unashamed.

Her head tipped back as she took every inch, hips settling in his lap. “Gods,” she gasped, rotating her hips. “You stretch me so good—”

“You were fucking made for me,” he snarled, thrusting up hard, making her cry out. “You walk around dripping, knowing exactly what you’re doing. You act like I’m the monster, but look at you—riding me in the goddamn dirt like a bitch in heat.”

Y/N braced herself on his chest, bouncing now, hair clinging to her face, breath hot and broken.

“It’s only ever been you,” she panted. “I need you.”

Donghyuck’s hands slid to her waist, watching her move like it was a vision meant for him alone. The filth of it — her slick thighs, his cock disappearing into her over and over, their mixed sounds echoing through the canyon — it drove him wild.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, eyes fluttering. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Not yet,” she whispered, tightening around him and riding him harder. “Not until you come inside me.”

He flipped her over without warning, slamming into her from above now, pinning her arms down.

“You want it? Then take it. But don’t you dare pretend you’re in control.”

Their bodies moved in sync — hot, sticky, brutal. They were grunting, gasping, so close to the edge it hurt.

Donghyuck found her spot again and didn’t stop, drilling into her with filthy praise spilling from his mouth.

“This pussy’s mine,” he growled. “Say it.”

“It’s yours—fuck—it’s yours—”

Their hands locked tight.

They moaned together — raw, guttural — as they came in sync, her legs shaking, his cock pulsing deep inside her.

And when it was over, when their breathing slowed and their bodies calmed, their lips hovered.

So close.

She turned her head.

And Donghyuck pressed his face into her neck, licking the sweat from her skin like he couldn’t get enough of her taste.

But she wasn’t done.

She leaned in — so close their noses brushed — and let her fangs descend.

Donghyuck’s breath hitched, eyes darkening.

She bit his bottom lip. Not too deep — just enough. A single bead of blood welled up.

Then she licked it — slow, deliberate — her tongue dragging across his lip like a promise.

Still no kiss.

Donghyuck licked his own lips after, tasting her saliva mixed with blood groaning. 

"If I died right now I'd be the happiest man alive."

----------------

The sky was soft that evening back on the ship — all pink streaks and gold-dipped clouds, the sea glassy and still.

The crew was buzzing with quiet anticipation. They were close now to the treasure they had been looking for. Everyone could feel it.

Y/N stood by the railing, wind tugging at her hair as she stared at the horizon. Mark approached slowly, cautious but warm, holding two tin mugs of lukewarm tea.

"Don’t worry,” he said, offering her one. “No rum in it.”

She took it with a quiet smile.

They stood in silence for a while, the kind that didn’t feel awkward — just thoughtful.

Then she spoke, her voice low. “I’ve met a lot of bad men in my life.”

Mark glanced at her, but she didn’t look at him. She kept her eyes on the ocean.

“Sailors. Soldiers. Hunters. Men who saw me as a prize or a monster.” She sipped her tea. “But you, Mark… you’re the most pure-hearted, kindest man I’ve ever met.”

Mark went still.

“You’re not naive,” she added quickly. “You’re good. That’s different. And I hope you never change. I hope this world doesn’t corrupt you.”

He swallowed hard. “I… thanks. That means a lot. You’re… you’re not what I expected either.”

She smiled faintly. “I know.”

Then she looked past him, toward the captain’s quarters, where Donghyuck had just stepped out, leaning against the post to watch them.

“I hope he gets everything he wanted,” Y/N said quietly, her voice dipping into something sadder, heavier. “Once he finds the treasure. I really do.”

Mark followed her gaze, then gave her a soft pat on the shoulder and left her alone.

Donghyuck didn’t say anything for a moment. Just approached, hands in his pockets, watching the sky with her.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “For kidnapping you. For everything.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Took you long enough.”

He gave a short laugh, dry and tired. “You’ll be free soon. And then you’ll never have to see me again.”

Y/N didn’t answer. But her silence was louder than any rejection.

Because neither of them looked happy about it.

Then—

“There,” she whispered, pointing to a shape in the distance. Faint, but unmistakable. An island rising out of the mist.

“That’s the one.”

Donghyuck’s breath caught.

He’d waited years for this.

But now, with her beside him, the weight in his chest was something else entirely.

He nodded once, quietly.

“Then let’s go.”

The island was quiet when they landed.

Too quiet.

Thick jungle framed the white sand beach like teeth, the air damp and heavy with the scent of moss and secrets. Birds didn't chirp. The wind didn't move.

Donghyuck stood at the head of the crew, compass in one hand, cutlass in the other. Beside him, Y/N watched the tree line with narrowed eyes, barefoot in the soft sand, her posture coiled and alert.

"This is it," she confirmed softly. "The map ends here."

The crew was already fanning out, eager and restless. The promise of gold was louder than caution.

“Spread out in twos,” Donghyuck ordered. “Follow the ravine north. Mark, stay close to me. Y/N—” He hesitated. “You lead.”

Y/N gave him a sharp glance, then nodded, stepping forward through the brush with eerie grace, tail gone, legs long and bare beneath the shirt and belts wrapped around her waist. The jungle swallowed them whole.

They walked for hours.

Past broken statues covered in vines. Cracked tiles with worn symbols. Booby traps long-dead — and some still very much alive. At one point, a pressure plate set off a spear that missed Mark’s head by inches.

“Stay sharp!” Donghyuck barked. “One wrong move and we’re all dead.”

Eventually, they reached a clearing — and the mouth of a temple.

Carved into the cliffside, ancient and crumbling, its pillars still standing, stone doors sealed shut.

It was there. It had to be.

The crew erupted into celebration — cheering, hugging, patting each other on the back.

And through it all, Y/N stood silent.

Until the noise died down and she stepped into the center of the clearing.

“This is where you should stop,” she said plainly. “You’ve made it. You can still turn back.”

The crew blinked at her.

Donghyuck frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Y/N looked around at all of them — her voice calm, but her words cutting.

“Everyone’s heard of the lost treasure of Elarion,” she said. “They know it’s real. But they never ask why it’s never been taken. Why no one’s claimed it.”

“Because they failed,” one sailor muttered.

Y/N shook her head slowly. “Because it’s cursed.”

The crew stilled.

“You’ll find it,” she said. “You’ll be happy. You’ll spend your wealth, buy ships, estates, women. You’ll drink the finest wine. Live like kings.”

“But it won’t last.”

Her eyes flicked to Donghyuck.

“Soon, you’ll feel it. That hollow pit in your chest. That ache that doesn’t go away. Because money doesn’t buy joy — and once you lose your hunger, you lose yourself. You won’t even realize it’s happening. Until one day, you look in the mirror and don’t recognize the man staring back.”

A long silence followed.

Mark looked visibly shaken.

One of the older crew members crossed himself.

Donghyuck held her gaze, jaw tight.

“That’s just a rumour,” he said finally. “A sailor’s tale. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

Y/N shrugged, her tone almost playful now.

“Suit yourself, Captain.”

And then she turned and walked toward the temple steps.

They stood in front of the sealed temple doors, the stone surface carved with symbols older than any kingdom Donghyuck had ever plundered.

While the crew gathered torches and ropes behind them, Donghyuck stayed close to Y/N’s side, eyes flicking from the doors to her face.

“You really believe that curse story?” he asked under his breath.

She didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the stone like it was watching her back.

Donghyuck took a step closer. “If it were your treasure… what would you do with it?”

She glanced at him, expression unreadable. “Sirens don’t care about material things. We don’t even have a concept of wealth like you do. I am the sea. It’s always given me what I need.”

“So there’s nothing you’ve ever wanted?” he asked. “No dream? No secret longing?”

She was quiet again. Then, softly, she said:

“Maybe… companionship.”

That made him pause.

Y/N kept her gaze fixed on the temple, voice low and distant.

“It can be boring, you know. Lonely. Sirens sing for fun, for instinct. But it’s always the same ending. A man falls under, drowns, screams… dies. It’s hard to crave anything different when you’re built to destroy.”

Her eyes glinted. “But sometimes I wonder what it would be like. To swim beside someone. To talk. To not have to lie. To not be feared.”

Donghyuck stared at her, something cracking in his chest. But he didn’t push her.

Instead, he reached forward — and pressed his palm to the door.

It groaned, stone mechanisms shifting and grinding.

And slowly… it opened.

Inside the temple, it was dark and warm. The air was thick with age, and the walls were carved with puzzles, riddles, strange symbols they worked through as a team — matching constellations, avoiding collapsing tiles, dodging blades that swung from the walls like silent pendulums.

It felt like the treasure didn’t want to be found.

But they pressed on.

Y/N remained silent through most of it, her expression stoic, though her eyes scanned everything — calculating, remembering, guiding.

And finally, they reached the final chamber.

The deepest cavern. The end of the path.

They stepped inside— And found nothing.

Just stone.

Cold. Empty. Dusty.

The crew froze.

Whispers filled the space.

“That’s it?” “There’s nothing here?” “We were lied to.” “We’ve wasted years.”

Mark looked at Donghyuck, who stood stock-still, face unreadable.

Y/N stepped forward slowly. Her bare feet echoed softly as she moved into the center of the room.

And then— She began to sing.

Not loudly. Not like a weapon.

Soft. Sweet. Like the lull of the waves.

The walls began to hum. Vibrate. And then… glow.

Faint gold light bloomed from the far side of the cave, spreading like sunlight over the stone.

A murmur went through the crew — and suddenly, they ran, boots pounding, shouting in disbelief.

Donghyuck was the first to reach it.

And there it was.

Endless.

Gold stacked higher than any man. Coins, crowns, goblets, swords encrusted with jewels, chests spilling open with rubies and sapphires. Ancient weapons. Royal heirlooms. Riches long lost to legend.

He stepped into the gold, his boots sinking into coins, his breath catching.

He had found it.

The treasure he’d chased his whole life.

And yet… somewhere behind him, Y/N stood quietly at the entrance of the chamber, her face calm but her eyes distant — already knowing how this story ends.

--------------

The room erupted in chaos.

Shouts of joy echoed off the golden walls. Coins clattered, chests were pried open, and men fell to their knees laughing as they let gold pour through their fingers like water. They stuffed bags, hats, even their shirts, giddy and frenzied.

One man tried to climb a mountain of coins and slipped, disappearing in an avalanche of riches. Another hugged a jewel-encrusted helmet like it was a long-lost lover. It was madness. Beautiful, sparkling madness.

But Y/N was already turning around.

Her expression unreadable as she took one last look over her shoulder.

Donghyuck stood at the center of it all, surrounded by everything he had ever wanted.

And he wasn’t moving.

Just staring.

Eyes wide, chest still. Not reaching. Not touching.

Y/N lingered for a beat longer, watching him.

He looked like a man who had just realized he was standing in the middle of his dream… and feeling absolutely nothing.

Her heart twisted.

She wondered—just for a second—what it would’ve been like if he were a siren. Or if she had been born human. If they hadn’t started as enemies. If he hadn’t caged her. If she hadn’t tried to drown him with her song.

She wondered what could’ve been.

Mark caught her gaze and saw the softness in her expression before she turned sharply and began to walk away.

He made a move to speak to Donghyuck, but Y/N raised a single finger to her lips and shook her head.

Don’t tell him.

Mark froze, dazed. Unsure if she was using her voice to compel him or if he was simply caught in her gravity.

Either way, he nodded.

And let her go.

The air outside was cooler.

The ship looked just as she left it, bobbing gently in the shallow cove where they’d anchored. The jungle was still. The water was calm.

Y/N sat at the edge of the dock, legs in the water, waiting.

She didn’t look back.

Not even when the sound of someone running behind her broke through the trees.

“Y/N!”

Donghyuck’s voice cracked, desperate.

“Y/N!”

He stumbled out of the jungle, hair wild, chest heaving, eyes wide with panic as they landed on her.

He looked like he’d just fought through hell to find her.

And he had.

She turned her head slightly as he skidded to a stop beside her.

"You promised you'd take me back home," she said quietly.

Donghyuck nodded, so breathless, so relieved it almost hurt.

"I thought—I thought you left—"

“You were busy,” she said simply.

He didn’t reply. He just stared at her, then slowly dropped to his knees beside her like he still didn’t quite believe she was real.

Mark and the rest of the crew appeared behind them, dragging sacks of loot with greedy smiles and dazed expressions.

Mark approached and handed Donghyuck a bag.

“Figured you’d want something. You didn’t take anything.”

Donghyuck didn’t even look at it.

He just dropped the bag at his feet.

And kept staring at her.

The crew laughed, already talking about where they’d go next, what they’d buy, who they’d become.

But Donghyuck didn’t join them.

Because his treasure was already here.

And she was still deciding whether or not she’d let him keep it.

-------------

The water was calmer than it had been in weeks — still and deep, a silken blue stretching endlessly in every direction. The sun was beginning to set behind them, casting the ship and its weary crew in a molten glow.

They had arrived.

Her waters.

Home.

Y/N stood at the edge of the deck, the wind in her hair, the salt thick in her lungs. She could feel it in her bones — the ocean humming with welcome. It had missed her.

Behind her, Donghyuck stood with his arms crossed, eyes unreadable. He hadn’t said much on the journey back. Not since they left the island. Not since she chose to sit alone, staring at the sea instead of at him.

Now he came closer, steps slow, uncertain.

“This is it,” he said softly.

Y/N didn’t look at him, just nodded. “It is.”

A beat.

Then she turned.

“I hope you’re happy, Donghyuck,” she said sincerely. “Really. You found what you were looking for. You got your gold. You completed your quest.”

He winced.

She saw it.

The way her words hit something raw.

Like they tasted bitter coming from her.

“I’m not proud of how this started,” he said. “But I am sorry. For everything.”

She nodded again, slower this time, letting the silence hang between them like mist.

Then she turned to the rest of the crew, offering them a quiet smile.

“Goodbye,” she said, and then, surprising even herself— “Thank you.”

She stepped forward and hugged Mark — arms around his shoulders, a warm squeeze. He blinked in stunned silence, then hugged her back fiercely.

The first human she had ever touched with affection.

The only one she hadn’t tried to drown.

Then she turned to Donghyuck once more.

Their eyes met.

Nothing was said.

But everything was felt.

------------------

Wanna read the rest (epilogue with a happy ending)? Subscribe to my patreon here or read the FULL story here. Leave a tip here.

[jikookncity]

Pirate Johnny x Siren Reader (smutty)

Pirate Johnny Suh strikes up a deal with Siren Y/n, he'll lead the Royal Navy coming after him into her waters and she gets to sink them, satisfying her hunger and Johnny's ship and crew remain unharmed. But business and pleasure mix too well...

WC: 12.2k, PLOT TWIST AT THE END, unprotected sex, jealous sex, dirty talk, table sex, lip biting with fangs, mentions of blood, violence and death (no main characters)

The ocean was still. Eerily so.

Y/N floated effortlessly in the blackened water, moonlight painting silver streaks across her bare shoulders. Her hair drifted like ink behind her, a crown of kelp and sea-glass resting atop her head. This stretch of the sea—her sea—hadn’t seen blood in days, and she was beginning to grow hungry. Restless.

The faint tremble beneath her sent a thrill through her spine. Wood against waves. Canvas catching wind. A ship was coming.

She smiled.

Her voice would do the rest.

Y/N sank beneath the surface, her body gliding silently as she positioned herself ahead of the ship’s trajectory. It was a massive silhouette against the moon, bigger than most merchant ships. She narrowed her eyes.

This wasn’t a trade vessel.

Then came the voice.

Low. Commanding.

“Come out, sea witch.”

Y/N’s lips curled into a smirk as she pulled herself up onto a nearby rock, sitting with one leg drawn up, her wet skin shimmering like pearls under the moon. “Most captains are screaming for their gods by now.”

“I’m not most captains.”

The man standing at the bow was tall, shirt open to reveal a broad chest inked in black, hair tousled and eyes burning like whiskey in lantern-light. He was laughing.

And not under her spell.

Her eyes narrowed. “You should be on your knees.”

“I prefer you on yours.”

The words rolled off his tongue like smoke, and Y/N’s smirk returned, sharper this time.

“So, you’ve heard of me,” she said, voice like velvet.

“Aye.” He leaned lazily against the railing, unbothered by the danger. “You sing men to their deaths. Tear apart hulls with a flick of your wrist. Sink entire fleets for fun.”

“And yet here you are.”

“I figured it was time we saw each other. Pirate to predator.”

The way he said it—pirate—wasn’t boastful. It was fact. Like the ocean acknowledged him. And maybe it did.

“Johnny Suh you've made quite the name for yourself” she said aloud, almost laughing. “The infamous one. The ghost of the Caribbean.”

He gave a mock bow. “At your service.”

She tilted her head. “Come to kill me?”

“No.” He descended the side rigging with graceful ease, hopping down onto the smaller rock outcrop near hers, now face to face. “I came to make you an offer.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Go on.”

“I’ve got the Royal Navy on my tail,” he said, licking his bottom lip as he glanced her over—shameless. “They’ve sent their best after me. Skilled, persistent. Honestly, it’s becoming a pain in my ass.”

She grinned. “You want me to eat them for you?”

He stepped closer, boots steady despite the wet stone. “You sink the ships that follow me, I keep sending them into your waters. You get your fill, I get to keep my record clean.”

Her smile faded into something more dangerous. “And what do you get if I decide to drag you under instead?”

His eyes glinted. “A very wet, very satisfying death.”

Her laugh echoed through the sea like a spell. “You’re either bold or stupid, pirate.”

“Bit of both,” he said, already leaning in.

----------

The moment she stepped onto the deck of The Serpent’s Kiss, the entire crew went still.

Boots thudded and swords tensed in scabbards as every pirate turned toward the woman who dripped seawater onto their immaculate wooden boards, as if the sea had birthed her herself.

Johnny stood at the helm, watching her like a man who’d seen something rare and dangerous—and was eager to play with it.

“Well, well,” he drawled, descending the stairs with leisurely confidence. “She rises from the deep and graces my ship.”

Y/N tilted her head, dripping wet and barefoot, seafoam clinging to her skin. “I was promised a wreck.”

He grinned. “You’re early.”

“You’re cocky.”

He stopped in front of her, close enough that the scent of salt and smoke from his clothes brushed her skin. “You can come aboard,” he murmured, eyes flicking to her mouth, “if you promise to eat me alive.”

A wicked smile curved her lips. “Don’t you mean as long as I don’t eat you alive?”

He winked. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

She didn’t smile back.

But she followed him anyway.

—

His captain’s quarters were far more lavish than she expected. Rich mahogany walls lined with stolen maps and gold-plated weapons, the desk wide and ornate, littered with scrolls, trinkets, and a half-empty bottle of rum. The scent of tobacco, leather, and something inherently masculine clung to every inch of the space.

Johnny kicked the door shut behind them.

“Here,” he said, striding to the desk. “Navy’s been crawling all over the eastern reef. Sent three ships after me just this week. Fast ones.”

Y/N didn’t answer, watching the way his shirt clung to his back as he leaned over the desk and unfurled a large map, edges curled from use.

“How many men?” she asked coolly.

“Too many to keep dodging.” He tapped a marked route. “But if I lead them here—into your waters—”

“I’ll handle the rest,” she finished for him.

He looked over his shoulder at her. “Exactly.”

She didn’t move. Just stood there, dripping saltwater on his fine carpet, eyes pinned to his strong shoulders and the way tension rippled beneath his sun-kissed skin.

He was a pirate. A thief. A killer.

But so was she.

“Something wrong?” he asked, brows lifted.

She stepped forward slowly, eyes half-lidded. “You think this is going to be easy?”

“No,” he said. “But I think it’s going to be fun.”

In the next second, her fingers curled into the open collar of his shirt and yanked him toward her.

His breath caught—and then he was crashing into her, her mouth barely a breath away.

They stared at each other, a second too long, the storm between them crackling in the stillness.

Then they collided.

Mouths crashing, teeth scraping, no grace—just heat. Raw and ravenous. Johnny groaned as her hands tangled in his damp hair, dragging him deeper, his own palms gripping her waist hard enough to bruise.

She pushed him back until his thighs hit the desk. He didn’t hesitate—sweeping an arm across it, the maps, coins, and compass scattering to the floor before lifting her onto the polished wood.

Her legs wrapped around him as his mouth trailed down her neck, hot and wet, his hands skimming over every slick inch of skin. “God, you’re unreal,” he muttered against her throat, his fingers catching on her soaked sea-glass top, tugging it aside.

“You talk too much,” she growled, dragging his shirt off his shoulders, fingers scraping down the inked skin of his chest.

“I’m better with my mouth,” he smirked—before she grabbed his jaw and kissed him again, deeper this time, her tongue demanding everything he had.

And Johnny—confident, arrogant Johnny—gave it.

Because when a siren takes what she wants?

She always gets it.

Their mouths barely parted as Y/N pulled his shirt down his arms, her hands roaming over the firm lines of his chest, dragging her nails over the black ink that curled across his ribs. He growled against her mouth, panting as he tugged her tighter against him.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” Johnny murmured, his lips brushing her jaw, throat, collarbone.

She bit back a moan, tilting her head as he sucked a bruise just beneath her ear. “You know what I want.”

“Tell me anyway,” he rasped, gripping her bare hips. “So I don’t get it wrong.”

Her only adornment was a single gold chain slung around her neck, glinting with salt and moonlight. Johnny let his fingers trail along it slowly, deliberately, before giving it a soft tug, making her exhale sharply.

“Royal Navy ships,” she breathed, licking into his mouth. “You keep feeding them to me.”

“And you sink them,” he muttered, undoing the ties on his pants with shaking fingers. “Drag every last one of those bastards under.”

She moaned as he shoved between her legs again, the head of his cock sliding slick against her soaked entrance. “And you don’t lie to me.”

Johnny froze, looking her in the eyes. “I don’t lie to allies.”

Her lips ghosted against his. “We’re not allies. We’re monsters.”

A flash of something feral passed through his gaze—dark and hot and hungry.

“Then let’s be monsters,” he growled, catching her mouth again. His voice was hoarse, ragged. “Fuck, I’ve been waiting for you.”

Her hand tangled in his hair again, dragging him closer. “Then shut up—” her hips rolled against him, wet and aching, “—and get in me.”

That was all it took.

Johnny slammed into her in one brutal thrust, making her gasp and cry out as her body arched beneath him. His hand came up to wrap around her throat—not choking, but holding her flat against the table as he thrust again, harder.

“Fuck,” he hissed, watching her writhe, her chain glinting against her heaving chest. “Tight little siren—so fucking wet for me already—”

Her legs locked around his waist, nails digging into his back as he moved, every stroke deep and punishing. He dipped his head, dragging his tongue over her nipple before biting down, sucking hard. Her moan was music, spine arching, hands fisting in his hair.

“You’re mine now,” he growled, teeth scraping her neck, “say it.”

She bared her throat for him, breathless and wrecked, and he took the invitation—biting down hard enough to bruise. “Say it.”

Her voice was a gasp. “Yours.”

His rhythm faltered for a second, hips snapping faster. “Again.”

“Yours,” she repeated, louder now, voice breaking, head thrown back.

Johnny grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together against the desk as he drove into her over and over, groaning with every thrust. “You’re gonna ruin me,” he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open, still wild, still burning. “Good.”

And he came undone.

—

When it was over, the room was a wreck—maps scattered, ink spilled, blood on his lips and bruises on her thighs. Y/N lay back on the desk, chest heaving, eyes half-lidded as she watched him pull back, breathless and sweat-slick.

Johnny ran a hand through his hair, still staring down at her like he’d just caught something sacred. Or cursed.

“You’re going to get me killed,” he said softly.

She smirked, tugging him by the chain still around her neck until he leaned back over her.

“You’re not that lucky.”

----------

The creak of the door opening drew every eye on deck.

Johnny emerged first, shirtless, hair a mess, a fresh bruise blooming just under his jaw. Y/N followed at his heels, calm as ever, Johnny's oversized top on her and a gold chain she stole from a poor sailor years ago at her throat, dripping seawater across the polished deck like she belonged there.

Which, as far as Johnny was concerned—she did now.

The crew shifted uneasily. Half of them clutched weapons. A few made the sign to ward off evil. One muttered something about “cursed temptresses” under his breath.

It wasn’t until Darius, his first mate, stepped forward with a grim look that anyone spoke up.

“You sure about this, Captain?” he asked, arms folded. “You want to let a siren walk free on this ship?”

“She ain’t walking,” muttered someone else. “She’s floating like death itself.”

Y/N only smiled sweetly, tilting her head like she might start singing—and sink the whole crew if she felt like it.

“She’s one of them,” Darius added, glancing at Johnny. “No offense, Cap, but sirens aren’t exactly known for their loyalty. They’re killers. Cunning. Evil.”

“So are we,” Johnny replied smoothly, resting a hand on the railing. His voice carried effortlessly across the deck. “You think I built this crew by playing fair?”

The men exchanged glances.

“She’s the reason the Royal Navy won’t catch us,” Johnny went on, turning to face them fully. “She’s gonna keep their ships buried at the bottom of the sea, and we’ll sail free, rich, and untouched.”

Someone near the helm muttered, “How can we trust her?”

“You don’t have to,” Johnny said, stepping closer, gaze sharp. “You trust me.”

Silence followed, thick as the ocean air.

“I’ve led you through storms. Through blockades. Through traps. I’ve slit throats in the dark so you lot could sleep on gold. I’m still the best pirate on these seas.” He glanced over his shoulder, where Y/N stood—completely unbothered, eyes glinting like a predator at rest. “And I say she’s part of this crew now.”

Darius gave a short nod. “Then that’s that.”

The others slowly followed suit—lowering weapons, relaxing shoulders, some with murmured oaths of allegiance.

Y/N padded forward slowly, stopping beside Johnny. “I won’t hurt any of you,” she said lightly, “unless you give me a reason.”

They stiffened again, but Johnny grinned.

“Chin up, boys,” he called. “We just bought ourselves a sea monster.”

A beat of silence passed. Then—

A few smirks.

Then laughter.

Tension broke like a wave against the bow.

They still didn’t trust her. Not really.

But they trusted him.

And that was enough.

---------

Later that night, when most of the crew had returned to their duties and the scent of brine and sweat hung heavy in the air, Taeyong found Johnny alone at the stern, a bottle of rum in one hand, the ocean dark and endless ahead of him.

The silence between them wasn’t awkward. It was familiar. Long-earned. They’d bled beside each other more times than they could count.

But tonight, it was heavy.

“She’s dangerous,” Taeyong said quietly, stepping up beside him. No judgment in his voice—just concern.

Johnny didn’t look at him, eyes still on the horizon. “So are we.”

Taeyong took the bottle from his hand, took a swig. “You sleeping with her?”

Johnny smirked faintly. “Would it matter if I was?”

Taeyong didn’t answer. Just passed the bottle back.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Johnny finally said, turning to lean his back against the railing. “That I’ve let her get in my head. That my dick’s making calls my brain should be.”

Taeyong raised a brow but didn’t deny it.

Johnny’s voice dropped, quieter now. “But you know me better than that.”

Taeyong folded his arms, his tone careful. “I do. Which is why I’m saying this now, while it’s just us. You’ve got a crew that’d die for you. They believe in you. I do too. But I’ve seen what sirens do to men—good men. They make you forget who you are.”

Johnny’s jaw flexed.

Taeyong stepped closer. “So I gotta ask: are you still you?”

Johnny met his gaze without hesitation. “I’m me, Tae. I’d never make a deal with something I didn’t believe could keep their end of it. She doesn’t want us. She wants the Navy. And I’m handing them to her.”

Taeyong studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “You think she’ll keep her word?”

“I know she will,” Johnny said. “And when the Navy’s gone? When we’ve sunk their best battalions and burned their flags? We’ll be kings out here. No more hiding. No more chasing shadows. Just open sea and all the gold we can carry.”

Taeyong looked out at the black water for a moment, the stars glittering like promises overhead.

“It’d be nice,” he murmured. “To finally breathe without them on our necks.”

Johnny clinked the bottle against Taeyong’s. “Then let’s make it happen.”

Taeyong took another drink. “Just don’t fall in love with her.”

Johnny chuckled, turning back to the waves. “Too late.”

-------------

The water was quiet—too quiet.

Y/N waited just beneath the surface, suspended in the deep like a predator beneath a calm sky. Her eyes flicked upward, catching the first glimpse of dark sails slicing through the moonlight.

Johnny.

She recognized The Serpent’s Kiss instantly, gliding fast and low across her waters, its black hull practically vibrating with urgency. It wasn’t until she spotted the ships behind it that her pulse quickened.

Two.

Royal Navy.

Bigger than usual. Armed to the teeth. And slow—slower than Johnny, but close enough to strike.

Her smile curved like a blade.

Perfect.

She let herself sink a little deeper into the dark, hair trailing like ink behind her, lips parting as she began to hum—softly at first, so the waves carried the sound like a whisper.

Above the surface, on the Navy ships, voices rose in panic.

“—sirens—!”

“TURN THE SHIP AROUND—!”

“She’s here! SHE’S HERE—!”

But it was already too late.

Y/N’s song swelled into a full melody, rich and sultry and lethal. The skies grew darker, clouds swirling, wind turning violent. The sea responded to her like it was in love with her rage.

Men on deck dropped their weapons.

One by one, they turned toward the sound—eyes wide, glazed, mouths slack. Some wept. Some whispered prayers. Most just… moved.

Moved toward the railings.

Toward the water.

Toward her.

Sailors began flinging themselves into the waves, drawn by the impossible pull of her voice, limbs breaking the surface like desperate offerings. Swords clattered, screams echoed, and still she sang—serene in the middle of the growing storm.

She breached the surface now, rising with the tempest, long hair slick against her back, eyes glowing like fire beneath the clouds. The wind whipped around her, waves crashing like fists against the Navy ships, tossing them violently side to side.

And when she lifted her arms, the sea obeyed.

A massive wave crested behind her—towering, black, angry—and crashed down on the first ship with the fury of the gods.

The second followed within minutes.

Smashed. Splintered. Gone.

Silence settled again, broken only by the crackle of lightning in the distance and the whisper of water reclaiming its dead.

Y/N stood alone now, waist-deep, hair clinging to her glowing skin, a satisfied smile on her face. Power hummed through her veins.

Another successful kill.

She didn’t know she was being watched.

Not from the wreckage. But from land.

Johnny stood on a small, craggy plot of rock just a mile away, hand resting on the hilt of his sword, breath held.

He had docked briefly to throw off the Navy's course, expecting to double back and help distract—but he hadn’t needed to.

He had known she was dangerous.

He just hadn’t realized how dangerous.

He’d seen storms. Battles. Massacres.

But nothing like her.

She was destruction wrapped in silk. A myth come to life. And watching her, drenched in moonlight and bloodlust, victorious in the eye of the storm?

Johnny felt it in his bones.

Not fear.

Not caution.

Desire.

The kind that made a man forget rules, gods, loyalty. The kind that made him want to fall, just to see if she’d catch him or let him drown.

He swallowed hard, eyes never leaving her.

“Fuck me,” he muttered, almost reverent.

And somehow, deep in his gut, he already knew—

He was in too deep.

---------------

A week later, Johnny arrived again.

This time, he wasn’t running.

The small Navy ship that trailed The Serpent’s Kiss was barely worth worrying over—smaller crew, poor speed, laughably underarmed. It limped behind them like a sacrificial lamb.

Johnny stood at the helm, smirking like a man with the whole ocean in his hands. “Poor bastards don’t even know they’re about to drown,” he muttered.

As always, Y/N was waiting below the surface.

It didn’t take long.

She sang.

The sailors screamed.

And then—silence.

The ship cracked and groaned before splitting in two, the sea swallowing it whole with one long breath. When it was over, Y/N broke the surface with a flip of her hair, swimming toward the ship with little urgency.

Johnny grinned as she neared, leaning casually over the railing. “You’re welcome.”

She rolled her eyes, hauling herself up the side with ease. The crew wisely gave her space now, stepping back like she was made of blades.

Johnny held a hand out as she climbed aboard.

“You really think you’re clever, don’t you?” she said, brushing past him.

“I think I’m efficient.” He followed, steps lazy. “One Navy ship. One siren. Zero problems.”

She stopped walking, slowly turning to look at him with a dry, unimpressed stare. “I can’t believe you fell for that.”

The grin faded slightly. “Fell for what?”

She didn’t answer. Just kept walking toward his quarters.

Johnny frowned and followed, closing the door behind them with a thud once they were alone.

“What do you mean fell for it?” he asked.

Y/N crossed her arms, damp skin glistening in the lanternlight. “Did you notice anything strange when you were being chased?”

“Like what?”

“Like how at first… multiple ships were following you?”

Johnny’s brows pinched. “Yeah… but only one could keep up.”

Y/N huffed and ran a hand through her wet hair. “Exactly. They peeled off. Intentionally.”

He blinked. “So?”

“So,” she snapped, stepping closer, “they knew two of their ships sank in that same stretch of sea before. So they sent onethis time—a test. They wanted to see if it would happen again. And guess what?”

“It did,” Johnny muttered, realization dawning.

“They’re not going to follow you there anymore,” she finished. “They’re not that stupid.”

He cursed under his breath, jaw clenching. “You could’ve spared the ship, then.”

Her grin slowly curled—sharp and wicked.

Johnny narrowed his eyes. “If you knew it was a setup—why didn’t you let them go?”

She stepped close, voice dropping into something dark and seductive. “Because I was hungry.”

And before he could speak, she grabbed his collar and yanked him down, fangs flashing as she sank her teeth into his bottom lip. Hard.

Johnny hissed, gripping her hips as she bit until blood welled up between their mouths. Her tongue flicked out—slow, deliberate—and licked the red from his skin.

His breath hitched.

“Jesus,” he muttered, dazed.

She leaned in, licking again, softer this time, almost like a kiss. “Next time,” she whispered, lips brushing his, “try using your brain, Captain.”

He stared at her, lip bleeding, heart pounding, his cock already hard beneath his belt.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You are going to ruin me.”

Y/N only smirked, tilting her head as she wiped his blood from her mouth with two fingers. “Then stop getting in my way and let me.”

Johnny didn’t even wait.

The second her tongue dragged across his bleeding lip again, he snapped.

With a growl, he shoved her back against the door—hard enough to rattle the wood on its hinges. His hands were all over her, grabbing her thighs, her ass, her waist—lifting her like she weighed nothing as he pressed his hips between her legs.

“You want to play games,” he panted, “you better be ready to lose.”

Y/N laughed darkly, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I never lose.”

He kissed her then—messy, rough, brutal—like he was trying to wipe that smirk off her face with his mouth alone. Her thighs tightened around his waist as he grinded against her, hard and aching, rutting into her soaked cunt until she moaned into his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he groaned, reaching between them to guide himself to her entrance. “Is this for me?”

“No,” she gasped, nails digging into his back, “it’s for whoever else I bit this week—yes, it’s for you, you bastard.”

He laughed—breathless, cracked—and thrust into her in one smooth, brutal motion.

Y/N’s head hit the door with a soft thud, eyes fluttering shut as he buried himself inside her over and over, each thrust harder, deeper, more desperate. He was fucking her like he wanted to own her—hands gripping her thighs so tight she knew he’d leave bruises.

“God, you feel like sin,” he rasped against her throat, biting her shoulder, his sweat dripping down onto her skin.

“You are sin,” she moaned, mouth dragging over his jaw. “That’s why I let you in.”

He groaned low in his chest, slamming into her one last time before coming hard inside her, holding her up as she clenched around him, panting in his ear.

They stood there like that for a long moment—pressed against the door, breath tangled, bodies slick and shaking.

Finally, Johnny let her slide slowly down his body, both of them still catching their breath.

“Stay,” he muttered, still flushed. “At least until I find a new set of waters to lead them into. Somewhere the Navy won’t suspect.”

Y/N raised a brow, wiping sweat from his chest with the back of her hand. “I’ll need the finest food.”

“Obviously.”

“And I’m staying in your quarters,” she added casually, turning to walk toward the bed with a sway in her hips. “You can sleep with the crew. They’ll love it.”

Johnny barked a breathless laugh, leaning back against the door like it was the only thing holding him up. “You are out of your mind.”

She looked over her shoulder. “Deal?”

He shook his head, laughing again. “Deal.”

Y/N grinned, settling herself on his bed like a queen—naked, glowing, wild.

Johnny crossed the room slowly, dropping to his knees beside her. He leaned in, pressing his mouth to hers in a long, slow, open-mouthed kiss—no teasing now, just heat and softness and a promise he didn’t quite understand yet.

She kissed him back with that same sharp smile against his lips.

And Johnny knew—he was hers now.

Whether she wanted to keep him or kill him?

Only time would tell.

------------

The sea was calm that evening.

The Serpent’s Kiss glided gently across the water, the kind of rare, quiet moment that made the ocean seem peaceful instead of bloodthirsty.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the upper deck rail, eyes fixed on the fading orange horizon. Her hair was wind-swept, her skin glowing in the dying light. For once, she wasn’t singing or plotting.

She was simply watching.

Taeyong approached, cautious but not afraid. He had a mug in each hand—one of hot rum, one of something stronger. He held out the former to her.

“Didn’t think sirens got cold,” he said.

Y/N smirked, taking it. “We don’t. But I like the taste.”

He nodded, settling on the crate beside her. For a long moment, they sat in silence, watching the horizon stretch and ripple.

Finally, Y/N spoke. “How’d you meet him?”

Taeyong glanced at her. “Johnny?”

She nodded.

He exhaled through his nose, a small smile curling on his lips. “I was with a different crew once. Years ago. Bad captain. Worse crew. They’d raid coastal towns, steal everything that moved. Women, too. One day we hit a port where Johnny happened to be docked—just refueling. He saw the smoke. Saw what my crew was doing. And instead of leaving like any smart pirate would’ve, he turned back.”

Y/N studied him quietly, the cup resting against her bottom lip.

“He boarded our ship alone,” Taeyong went on. “Killed the captain in front of everyone. Told the rest of the crew they could join him or rot. I joined him.”

There was something reverent in his voice now.

“Ever since then, I’ve been with him. He gave me a real crew. A real life. Never once asked for anything back. I figure the universe owes him a favor for what he did that day.”

Y/N tilted her head, running a finger around the rim of her cup. “You’re loyal to him.”

“To the end.”

She smiled faintly. “That’s rare.”

Taeyong gave her a look. “So is his trust.”

She blinked, then smiled again—sharp this time, all teeth and trouble. “Getting protective, first mate?”

“I’m being honest,” he said. “He doesn’t let people in easy. Not even his crew. Not really. But you? He trusts you. Like instantly.”

Y/N took a long, slow sip of her drink. “And that worries you.”

Taeyong didn’t deny it. “Just making sure there’s no… influence. No siren magic in his head.”

That made her laugh—low and throaty and genuinely amused.

“Oh, darling,” she purred, hopping off the rail to land in front of him, eyes gleaming, “if I was using magic, he’d be dead or married.”

Taeyong blinked.

Y/N leaned in, close enough to smell the salt in his drink. “I don’t need spells. He’s just wrapped around my finger like everyone else.”

Taeyong studied her, uncertain whether to laugh or be afraid.

She smiled wider. “Relax. I like him. If I didn’t, this ship would’ve been at the bottom of the sea weeks ago.”

She turned and walked away, hips swaying, hair whipping in the wind.

Taeyong watched her go, unsettled but intrigued.

Because the most dangerous thing about her wasn’t the song.

It was that he believed her.

----------

For once, she stayed out of his way.

Y/N leaned against the railing of The Serpent’s Kiss, her arms folded as she watched the deck move like clockwork—pirates rushing to stations, sails shifting, canons covered and hidden to mimic a trade ship.

And at the center of it all: Johnny.

The infamous pirate captain stood with legs braced and arms crossed, sharp eyes locked on the royal fleet in the distance. His usual cocky grin was gone, replaced by something sharper. Focused. Ruthless.

He barked orders with ease—quiet, controlled, and strategic.

Y/N tilted her head, a smirk tugging at her lips.

So this was what he looked like when he wasn’t busy kissing her breathless or teasing her with lazy, suggestive grins. He was magnetic in battle, commanding every man on deck like he’d written the sea’s rules himself.

No charm. No distractions. Just brilliance.

And damn it, it made her want him even more.

Minutes later, the royal fleet turned off course—exactly as Johnny predicted.

Y/N watched in stunned silence as the ships disappeared toward the eastern reef where the false distress beacons had been lit earlier that morning. A trap. A perfectly executed decoy.

The crew erupted into loud cheers. Pirates slapped each other’s backs, laughing and howling with relief. They were free to roam again—at least for now.

Johnny turned from the helm and made his way to her.

“Didn’t even need your fangs for that one,” he said, eyes dancing.

Y/N gave him a slow, impressed smile. “No, you didn’t.”

He arched a brow. “What? No snarky comment about how you’re the one who usually saves us?”

She stepped closer, slipping two fingers into the hem of his belt. “I’m impressed,” she said softly. “You’re even smarter when you’re not thinking about fucking me.”

Johnny grinned, shameless. “Dangerous compliment, sweetheart. I’m already full of it.”

She smirked, then stepped back as he tugged her hand and raised it to his lips.

“Come on,” he said. “We’re docking on the mainland tonight. Tavern’s got the best rum this side of the map. It’s time to celebrate.”

Y/N blinked. “Mainland?”

Johnny nodded. “You’ve never stepped foot on land, have you?”

She stared at him, eyes widening just a little. “Not in… not since I was changed. Since I became this.”

“Well,” he said, voice softer now, “we’ll keep near the water. Just long enough for a drink. You’ve earned it.”

A flush bloomed under her skin that had nothing to do with the sun.

She looked at her bare feet, then back at the distant coastline drawing closer.

Land.

The thought of it made her heart race.

“I’ll need boots,” she muttered, trying to sound nonchalant.

Johnny laughed. “You can have mine. I’ll carry you back.”

-----------

Y/N pulled the oversized coat tighter around her body, the fabric thick and worn and smelling like sea salt and leather and him.

She walked beside Johnny, bare feet brushing against cobblestone as the bustle of the port town swirled around them—street vendors calling, ships docking, gulls screeching overhead. Every sound made her flinch slightly. She was used to the gentle echo of ocean waves, not this… chaos.

Johnny didn’t let go of her hand once.

He didn’t need to guide her. She could protect herself just fine. But something about her—draped in his shirt and coat, wide-eyed and in giant boots (his)—made him grip her hand tighter as if the crowd might swallow her whole if he didn’t.

“You alright?” he asked softly, leaning close as they passed a butcher yelling about fresh meat.

“I’ve never heard so much shouting,” she murmured. “How do humans live like this?”

He chuckled. “Loudly.”

She gave him a narrow look, but her lips twitched in amusement.

Johnny tugged her down a quieter street lined with colorful fabrics and silk hangings, stopping in front of a stall overflowing with clothes.

“Pick something,” he said, nodding to the dresses and corsets, skirts and boots. “Anything you want. No one here knows what you are. They’ll just think I’ve got a pretty new bride.”

She raised a brow. “Is that the lie we’re going with?”

“Unless you’d rather I call you my mistress?”

Y/N snorted. “Keep talking and I’ll gut you in your sleep.”

“Romantic,” he grinned.

She scanned the fabrics with cautious fingers, brushing over lace and velvet until she found a deep green corset and skirt that shimmered in the sunlight, reminding her of deep kelp and precious stones sunk to the sea floor.

She stepped behind a curtain and returned moments later, barefoot still, but regal—bare shoulders glowing under the afternoon sun, hips swaying like the tide itself.

Johnny stared. “You want to ruin men? That’s the outfit to do it.”

She smirked. “You already look ruined, captain.”

He muttered a curse under his breath and reached for her again, but she batted his hand away, amused. “Where to next?”

Johnny took her to a narrow jewelry shop lined with iron lanterns and guarded by a grumpy-looking old woman. The moment Y/N stepped inside, her eyes widened. Diamonds. Rubies. Sapphires. Emeralds. All stolen from some kingdom, some dead noble, displayed here like treasures for her to devour.

Her gaze locked on a gold bracelet in the corner—thick and twisting like sea vines, encrusted with emeralds that shimmered like her waters. Perfect to match her golden necklace she always wore, stolen from a sailor who got too close to her when she was young.

She stepped forward, lips parted, hand hovering just above it.

Johnny watched her from the doorway, arms crossed, expression soft.

“You want it?” he asked.

She hesitated. “No. I… I just like looking.”

“You deserve things,” he said quietly. “Not just to take them. To have them.”

Her throat bobbed. She said nothing.

They left empty-handed, but his hand slid back into hers the second they stepped into the crowd again. He couldn’t stop himself.

She looked smaller here. Smaller and far too mesmerizing.

They turned a corner and a tug at her skirt made Y/N freeze.

She looked down.

A little girl stood at her side, no more than five, cheeks flushed and hair in messy braids. Her eyes were wide, full of innocent wonder.

“Can I touch your hair?” the girl whispered. “It’s so shiny.”

Y/N blinked, tense. Siren's are known to have gorgeous long silky hair that float beautifully in the seas, not that anyone on land could tell what she was unless she let her fangs drop.

Her instincts screamed to back away, to vanish into the sea where no one could touch her. But the child’s aura was so… quiet. So pure. No shadows. No darkness. No hint of deceit.

“She’s harmless,” Johnny murmured beside her, gentle for once. “Just curious.”

Y/N slowly crouched, letting the girl touch a strand of her hair. Tiny fingers twirled the silk between them. After a moment, the girl giggled and ran off, her parents calling for her in the distance.

Y/N stood, dazed.

“There was… nothing bad in her,” she said softly. “No filth. No greed. Nothing I’m used to sensing.”

Johnny nodded. “She hasn’t been taught the ugly parts yet. Still sees the world with soft eyes.”

Y/N turned to him, brows pulled tight. “Were you like that? Ever?”

He looked away for a moment, jaw tight.

“No,” he said. “I never had the luxury.”

She stared at him, something soft blooming behind her ribs.

“Come on,” Johnny said, flicking her chin and forcing a crooked smile. “Let’s find the crew before they burn the tavern down.”

The tavern was rowdy with laughter and overflowing mugs, pirate songs echoing off the wooden walls. The crew was already several drinks deep, shouting stories and clinking glasses, the scent of roasted meat and spiced rum thick in the air.

Y/N sat beside Johnny, close enough to feel the heat of his thigh against hers. Her fingers toyed lazily with the mug in front of her, though she didn’t drink. The noises were strange, but the energy of the place made her feel—alive.

Then she walked in.

A flash of curls. A familiar, confident stride. And a voice like smoke.

“Johnny?”

Y/N’s head turned before she could stop herself.

The woman beamed, rushing over and throwing her arms around him like they hadn’t just lived separate lives for years. “Gods, it’s been ages—how long’s it been? Seven years?”

Johnny smiled—polite, nothing more—and stood to hug her briefly. “About that.”

Y/N’s claws itched.

The woman kept talking—leaning into Johnny’s space, laughing too loudly at things he barely said, her fingers brushing his arm like it was habit.

Y/N turned to Taeyong.

“Who is that?” she asked through clenched teeth.

Taeyong blinked, lips quirking like he’d expected this. “An old flame. From when Johnny was barely eighteen. It’s ancient history, don’t worry.”

Y/N didn’t respond right away. Her throat felt dry. Something sharp twisted in her gut.

Johnny smiled at her.

She didn’t wait.

She rose from the table with the grace of a queen and strode up to him, jaw tight, eyes flashing.

“Take me back to the ship,” she said, calm but cold. “I’m not feeling well.”

Johnny raised a brow, seeing right through her. “Taeyong can take you.”

She stepped closer, smiling sweetly—and dropped her fangs.

“I said you take me,” she hissed, voice low and lethal. “Unless you want to watch your precious ship sink while you flirt with corpses.”

The woman flinched, backing away with wide eyes, mumbling something about needing air before rushing out of the tavern.

Johnny chuckled, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re absolutely unhinged.”

“Still here though,” Y/N replied smugly.

He stood, letting her lead the way.

—

Y/N shoved him back the moment they stepped into his quarters, slamming the door shut behind them. The wood rattled with the force. Johnny opened his mouth, but she was already on him, pushing him down onto the bed.

“You’re really—” he started, grinning up at her.

“Shut up,” she snapped, yanking his shirt open, buttons scattering. “Don’t speak.”

She climbed on top of him, straddling his lap like she was born to sit there, her nails digging into his shoulders for balance. Her weight pressed him down, and for once Johnny didn’t fight it—didn’t smirk or joke—just let her do exactly what she wanted.

And gods, she wanted.

She reached between them, wrapped her hand around his cock, hard and waiting for her, dragging the head slowly through her slick folds before sinking down all at once.

Johnny groaned — deep and guttural — throwing his head back into the mattress as she seated herself fully on him.

“Fuck—”

She didn’t give him a second to breathe. Her hips began to roll, fast and rough, skin slapping against skin in sharp, angry rhythm. She grabbed his wrists and pinned them down above his head, nails biting into his skin, her chest bouncing with every hard thrust.

“Jealous little siren,” he rasped, but she leaned down and bit his lower lip hard enough to make him hiss — then sucked it into her mouth, licking at the blood she drew.

“Mine,” she whispered against his mouth. “Say it.”

He grunted, trying to thrust up into her, but she kept control, grinding down so perfectly it made his back arch. “Yours—shit—yours, alright—”

Her pace got even rougher, slamming down over and over until the bed rocked under them, until he was panting beneath her, eyes glazed, mouth falling open as he struggled to keep up. She moaned into his mouth, biting his tongue this time and sucking it deep into hers, tasting him, owning him.

He’d never been taken like this before. Never seen her so wild, so raw, so completely in command.

And gods, he loved it.

She rode him until he was nearly trembling under her, whispering his name like a prayer and a curse, until his hands broke free just to clutch her hips and hold on as he came, deep inside her, his voice hoarse in her ear.

But she didn’t stop.

She kept moving — slower now, grinding in tight, teasing circles, keeping him hard, keeping him buried inside her. She licked the sweat from his throat, the blood from his chest, and smiled with her fangs out like a predator who’d fed and still wasn’t full.

“Still think I overreacted?” she murmured.

Johnny, dazed and breathless, licked his lips and grinned faintly. “Starting to think I should flirt with my exes more often.”

She growled — and thrust down hard enough to make him curse again.

They collapsed together moments later, tangled in sweat and heat and sea salt, her body draped over his, chest rising and falling like she’d just come from battle.

Because she had.

And she’d won.

-------------

The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting a soft golden glow across the deck of the ship. Below, Y/N was sprawled across Johnny’s bed like a goddess in the aftermath of chaos—hair tousled, skin glistening with leftover sweat, his marks scattered all over her body like a pirate’s claim.

Johnny dressed quietly, still sore in the best way, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders. His chest and neck were painted with angry red scratches and deep bite marks. His collarbone was smudged purple and his jaw had a bruise from where she’d sucked too hard.

He smirked at the memory.

“Fuckin’ hell,” one of the crew muttered when Johnny joined them on deck, eyes catching the marks. “Looks like you survived a kraken attack.”

Johnny just laughed. “Worse,” he muttered. “She bites harder.”

They rowed to the mainland with a short list of supplies to gather before they changed course. Johnny made his way through the crowded streets, pulling his hood up only halfway. He didn’t exactly blend in, tall and broad and cocky as ever, sauntering through the market with a pirate’s swagger.

That’s when he saw her.

His old flame they bumped into last night walking toward him with a basket of fresh bread in hand, her eyes widening the second she spotted him.

“Johnny?” she said, breath catching.

He turned, giving her that lazy grin she used to fall for, but her eyes dropped to his exposed chest, where his shirt gaped open just enough to reveal the aftermath of last night’s war. Scratches. Hickeys. Teeth marks.

She looked like she’d been slapped.

“Gods,” she said, lips parting. “Are you alright? What the hell happened to you?”

Johnny rubbed the side of his neck, looking down as if noticing it all for the first time. Then he smiled again—slow and smug. “I've never been better., don't worry about me”

Elira's mouth closed. She looked down at her basket, suddenly unsure of herself. “You’ve…moved on.”

“Wasn’t planning to. But she didn’t give me much of a choice,” he said, fondness sneaking into his voice without him meaning to. “Tore through me like I belonged to her.”

She flinched, even if she tried to hide it. “Just be careful, Johnny. I heard from a Navy trader — the royal family’s been pouring more gold into their fleets lately. They want pirates off their waters. For good.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Thanks for the tip.”

She gave him a small, sad smile and turned to go. “Goodbye, Johnny.”

He watched her walk away without a flicker of regret.

By the time he returned to the ship, the morning sun was higher in the sky and the sea breeze had picked up. He slipped back into his quarters and found Y/N still curled in his bed, the sheets tangled around her bare legs.

He leaned over, brushing his knuckles gently down her cheek.

“Rise and shine, siren,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her jaw, her cheek and lips. “We’ve got work to do.”

She stirred, eyelids fluttering open, pupils still dark with sleep, throwing her arms around his neck. “What kind of work?”

Johnny grinned, nipping at her lower lip. “The kind that might get us killed.”

She smirked lazily. “My favourite kind.” Pulling him down for another kiss.

----------

The day had started smooth—too smooth.

Johnny stood at the helm, wind slicing through his coat, eyes fixed on the horizon as they glided toward new waters Y/N had scouted. She’d left just before dawn, vanishing into the sea like a shadow to clear the way ahead.

He hadn’t seen any flags for hours, just endless blue stretching in every direction. That should’ve comforted him. But his gut twisted.

“We’re being followed,” Taeyong murmured beside him, brows furrowed. “Starboard side. Six ships. Royal Navy colors.”

Johnny’s jaw clenched.

“I thought Y/N took care of—”

“She did. They weren’t there before.” He cursed under his breath. “They’re hiding their movement. Smarter. Quieter.”

They watched as the fleet crept closer. Johnny gave the signal.

Y/N emerged minutes later, her glowing eyes visible even from a distance, the sea parting beneath her as she began her song.

The melody that spilled from her lips was slow, dangerous—like honey laced with venom. One by one, the navy ships began to falter. Cannons stopped firing. Orders stopped being shouted. Sailors dropped their weapons, leaning overboard, dazed, enchanted.

And then, just as Johnny relaxed his shoulders, something clicked.

Taeyong turned too late. A much smaller vessel had approached from the opposite direction—low, fast, and hidden against the sun.

Ropes lashed onto the side of Johnny’s ship. Three figures climbed aboard, masked and armed, pistols cocked and aimed directly at Johnny and Taeyong.

“Drop your weapons,” one of them ordered, voice calm but deadly. “Captain Suh and First Mate Lee, by order of the Crown, you’re under arrest.”

Taeyong reached for his sword, but Johnny raised a hand, stopping him.

The lead soldier stepped forward, pressing the barrel of his pistol to Johnny’s chest. “Cooperate, or your crew will pay the price. You think we didn’t know about the siren? She’s occupied. We came prepared.”

Johnny’s fingers curled into fists. He could fight. But they’d shoot first. And he wouldn’t risk his crew—he couldn’t.

He was just about to speak—to give in—when the air changed.

Soft at first. Almost inaudible.

Then louder. Clear. Like silk wrapping around the spine.

That voice.

The soldiers froze, faces twisting. “No,” one whispered. “She’s supposed to be distracted—”

But it was too late.

Their arms lowered, eyes glossed over, mouths falling open in awe. One by one, they staggered toward the edge of the ship like they were being summoned.

And they were.

Johnny turned, rushing to the side. He leaned over, his heart thudding in relief.

There she was.

Y/N.

Only her eyes visible above the water, silver and glowing under the sun. Her song still humming low in her throat. A quiet weapon.

She stared straight at him, the hint of mischief dancing behind her gaze. She didn’t need to smile—he saw it anyway.

Johnny exhaled, his lips twitching.

The last soldier hit the water with a splash.

And Y/N finally blinked.

Johnny grinned down at her. “Show-off.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t stop singing until the current had dragged every soldier far from the ship’s reach.

When the last ripple vanished, Johnny stood tall, turning to his stunned crew. “Well, boys,” he called, clapping Taeyong on the back, “looks like she’s still got our backs.”

Taeyong grumbled, still catching his breath. “She nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Johnny smirked, eyes flicking back to the waves. “Yeah. And I think she enjoyed it.”

--------

The crew worked quietly, adrenaline still wearing off after the surprise attack. The sun hung low in the sky now, casting gold streaks across the waves as the ship sliced through calm waters. Johnny stood near the helm, one hand resting on the railing, the other clutching a flask he hadn’t touched.

Y/N joined him, her damp hair curling around her face, eyes scanning the horizon. She didn’t speak right away. Neither did he.

Finally, Johnny broke the silence.

“Three more,” he said quietly, eyes narrowed. “Three more ships left in the battalion that’s been chasing me for years. Once they’re gone…” He trailed off, not needing to finish.

They both knew what that meant. Freedom. Safety—for him, for the crew. For her, maybe.

But then his shoulders tensed again.

He looked at her, serious now, voice low. “They know about you, Y/N. The Navy. The Crown. They’re not just hunting pirates anymore—they’re hunting you. You need to be careful.”

She smiled slowly, the expression rich and knowing.

“I’m not the naive little siren I once was Johnny."

He blinked, his gaze sharpening.

Y/N stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that only he could hear. “I’ve drowned admirals. Crushed fleets. I’ve lured hunters into whirlpools they didn’t know existed. Whatever the Navy thinks they know about me, it’s already too late.”

Johnny stared at her—genuinely, for a long beat.

Then something softened behind his eyes, a quiet pride curling into his smirk. “Didn’t say I wasn’t impressed. Just… don’t let them get lucky. Promise me.”

She tilted her head. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll burn their kingdom to the ground myself.”

That made her laugh.

“Now that,” she murmured, “is something I’d like to see.”

She leaned into his side, his arm slipping around her waist without needing to be asked. Together, they watched the sea stretch out ahead—danger still looming, but for once, in no rush.

They hadn’t been on land for more than fifteen minutes when Johnny’s shoulders started tightening. Every glance from a vendor, every passing look from a stranger made his jaw clench. His hand stayed firmly on Y/N’s lower back as they moved through the market square, grabbing sacks of rice, fruit, dried meats, everything they needed.

Y/N leaned toward a crate of oranges, fingers brushing the vibrant skins when Johnny caught her wrist. “That’s enough,” he muttered. “We’re going back.”

She blinked up at him. “What? We’re barely halfway—”

“I don’t like the way they’re looking at you.”

She pulled her arm back, voice rising slightly. “They’re not looking at me, Johnny. They’re just looking. I look human. I am human here.”

“Not to them,” Johnny hissed under his breath, tugging her away. “If one person suspects, if even one whisper reaches the wrong ears, they’ll report you. And if they do—”

“I can handle myself,” she snapped, pulling away again.

Johnny stopped in his tracks. “This isn’t the sea. This is their home, their rules. You don’t get to sing your way out of this if they put chains on you. I’m an expert in water. Not here. I can’t protect you the same way.”

She froze, lips parting slightly, hurt flickering across her features.

Then came her laugh—empty, hollow. The kind that echoed from something much deeper than irritation.

“Oh, so now you care about how cruel humans can be?” Her voice was low. Bitter. “You think I don’t know how hollow they are? How monstrous?”

She turned sharply, storming off down the dock without another word. Johnny called after her once—but her pace didn’t slow.

By the time he got back to the ship, she had locked herself in his quarters.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his forehead resting against the door. “Open up.”

Silence.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I’m just—” He sighed, his voice cracking just a little. “I’m scared. I know what they’d do to you if they found out. And I’d never forgive myself.”

More silence.

Then: click.

The door creaked open just enough for him to see her curled on the edge of the bed, still in his clothes, arms hugging her knees. She didn’t look at him when he stepped in and quietly closed the door.

He approached slowly, then sat beside her.

“I wasn’t trying to control you,” he said quietly. “I just… can’t stand the thought of something happening to you. Not after everything.”

She finally turned her face toward him, her voice barely above a whisper. “And how do you think I feel about you?”

That did him in.

Johnny leaned in without hesitation, brushing her hair behind her ear, his lips ghosting over hers in the softest way they’d ever touched—no heat, no bite. Just an aching need for closeness.

She melted into him. Hands curling around his shoulders, mouth molding into his like it belonged there. The kiss deepened just enough to be lingering, lips parting, breaths mingling, but neither of them was in a rush.

When they finally broke apart, her forehead rested against his.

Johnny’s hand cupped her cheek. “Just… stay close, okay?”

“I always do,” she whispered.

And for now, that was enough.

----------

The sky was painted in a bruised blue as the sun dipped low, casting golden light across the rippling sea. Most of the crew were below deck or resting before nightfall, the lull before the storm.

Johnny leaned against the rail, watching the horizon with narrowed eyes. He didn’t turn when he heard footsteps behind him—he didn’t need to. He knew that walk.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Taeyong said, stepping beside him. “You always get like this before something big.”

Johnny stayed quiet for a moment, jaw flexing as the wind stirred his hair.

Taeyong folded his arms, glancing at his captain. “You’ve got that look in your eye again. Like the one you had when you saved me all those years ago. Like you’ve already decided what you’re willing to sacrifice.”

Johnny exhaled through his nose, still not meeting his gaze. “It’s just the mission. Three ships left. We finish this, and we’re finally free.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Taeyong’s voice was soft but steady. “You’ve clearly fallen for her. Anyone with eyes can see it. But you know she’s not meant to stay. She belongs to the sea, Johnny. Not to you. Not to any of us.”

That struck something in him.

“She’s more than a siren,” Johnny muttered, finally turning toward him. “She’s smart, fierce, funny. She keeps up with us, sometimes leads better than I do. And she saved us, more than once. She’s not just some creature of the water.”

“I know that,” Taeyong said quietly. “I like her, Johnny. That’s why I’m saying this. The ship is our home. The sea is hers. Sooner or later, the tides pull us in different directions.”

Johnny looked away, voice low. “Then we’ll figure it out.”

Taeyong gave him a long, searching look. “How?”

Johnny didn’t answer right away. His fingers tapped restlessly against the railing, the ocean breeze tousling his hair.

“We just finish the job first,” he finally said. “Three more ships. That’s all. One mission at a time.”

Taeyong nodded, though the weight of everything unspoken hung between them like storm clouds just out of reach.

He clapped Johnny on the back once, then walked away, leaving the captain alone with the sea—and the uncertainty of what would come when the battle was over.

-----------

The flickering lanterns swayed gently with the ship, casting golden shadows across the deck as the crew settled down for the night. The scent of salted air and fire-cooked food still lingered in the breeze.

Johnny was on his way back from the helm when he paused just beyond the galley entrance. He heard voices—familiar ones—and stopped in his tracks.

“…so, do sirens have anything like marriage?” Taeyong asked curiously, his tone casual but thoughtful.

There was a short pause before Y/N responded. “Not exactly,” she said. “We don’t have the same customs, but we can form a lifelong union based on love and trust. It’s rare, but… it happens.”

“Do some have families?”

Y/N gave a quiet laugh. “Some. I have a few I consider sisters. We grew up together, downing ships for fun, stealing things we didn’t need just to see who could charm the most sailors.”

Taeyong chuckled softly. “You make it sound almost… domestic.”

Y/N tilted her head. “It’s not all seduction and storms, you know. Sirens live. We fight, we love, we grieve. We’re not so different from you.”

Taeyong grew quiet for a moment, then said, “I guess I was just wondering… if sirens feel love as deeply as humans do.”

Johnny leaned closer without meaning to, his body tensed.

“I wouldn’t know how a human feels,” Y/N said gently. “But I assume it’s more or less the same. When we care… we care.” There was something raw in her voice, something quiet but certain. “It changes us.”

Neither spoke for a moment.

Then Y/N cleared her throat and straightened up. “Anyway… it’s time to focus on the mission. We’re nearly there.”

Taeyong nodded. “Right. One last stretch.”

Their footsteps moved off in the other direction, leaving Johnny alone in the shadows—jaw clenched, heart beating a little faster than before. He stared out at the night sky, her words echoing in his head.

When we care… we care. It changes us.

------------

THE PAST

Laughter echoed beneath the waves. A group of young sirens darted through coral arches, chasing one another with effortless grace. Fish scattered in their wake, and the seabed glowed with moon-kissed bioluminescence.

One of them—a girl with wide, curious eyes and a silver streak in her hair—surfaced for air, laughing as she flicked water at her friends.

“Bet I can steal a compass before any of you!” she teased, her voice sweet and sharp.

They giggled, cheering her on as she moved closer to a docked ship nearby.

She wasn’t scared. Not yet.

She crept aboard through the shadows, sleek and silent. But the moment her hand brushed the side of a crate—SNAP. A glowing net, woven with iron and enchanted thorns, coiled around her.

Her scream was barely heard underwater.

“No—NO!”

“Get her out!”

Her sisters tried—pulling, biting, slashing at the net. But the surface began to rise around her and she was dragged up, arms caught in the weave, mouth open in horror.

Above the waterline, shouts erupted from sailors.

“Holy hell—it’s a siren!”

“Grab her before she sings!”

Rough hands yanked her over the side, shackles clamping her wrists. A thick cloth was shoved into her mouth, muffling the terrified cries, and someone tied it tight behind her head. She thrashed wildly, eyes wide, until they shoved her into a rusted iron cage. Cold. Cramped.

One sailor stared at her like she was both treasure and monster. “Never thought I’d see one alive.”

The cage door slammed shut. The other sirens young and scared, swimming away to get help and before they could be caught themselves.

PRESENT

Y/N stood alone on the deck, wind lifting strands of her hair as she stared into the endless stretch of sea.

The sunset painted the ocean in blood-red and gold, and her expression remained unreadable, carved from silence.

But deep in her eyes, the memory still burned.

The betrayal. The helplessness. The gag.

She gripped the railing tighter, her jaw hardening.

Never again, she thought.

Never again would she be powerless. Never again would anyone take her voice.

----------

The ship rocked gently beneath them, the moon high and the ocean calm for once. In Johnny’s quarters, a single lantern flickered on the wall, casting long shadows across the wooden floor.

Y/N sat curled at the edge of his bed, one of his white dress shirts hanging loosely off one shoulder, the hem brushing the tops of her bare thighs. She didn’t turn around when the door opened.

“You’re not just here to grab something,” she said quietly, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Johnny paused in the doorway, then closed it behind him.

“Busted,” he said with a soft chuckle, crossing the room. “Guess I missed you.”

She turned slightly to face him, her expression warm but tinged with something heavier. “Tomorrow’s the big one.”

He nodded, watching her closely. “You nervous?”

She shrugged. “Not about the fight.”

He stepped closer, tilting her chin up with two fingers. “Be careful, Y/N.”

“I should say the same to you.”

They held each other’s eyes for a moment—words unsaid hanging between them like thick fog—and then she rose, slowly wrapping her arms around his neck, the shirt slipping further down her shoulder.

Johnny exhaled through his nose, one hand coming to her waist, the other brushing her hair back. “You look better in my shirt than I ever did.”

She smiled. “I know.”

Their lips met in a slow kiss—no teasing this time, no rush. Just a steady warmth blooming in their chests. Johnny walked her backward until her knees hit the bed, then gently lowered her down with him, never breaking the kiss.

His hands explored her body like he was trying to memorize it. Y/N arched into him, letting out a quiet gasp when he kissed down her throat, fingertips brushing over the curve of her waist, along the inside of her thigh.

Their hands linked above her head, fingers laced tight as he slowly pushed into her. Both of them let out soft, breathy moans—this wasn’t about lust or dominance. This was grounding, claiming, keeping.

Their bodies moved in sync, a slow, aching rhythm that made every breath feel like a promise.

He kissed her again and again—her lips, her cheeks, her collarbone—whispering her name like a prayer. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling gently whenever a wave of pleasure hit too deep.

By the time the sun began to rise, casting golden light through the small round window, they were still tangled together—sweaty, breathless, but quiet. Neither wanting to let go yet.

Johnny brushed a thumb over her cheek. “Whatever happens today…”

“I know,” she whispered. “Me too.”

------------

The air was heavy with anticipation. The kind that settles deep in the bones before a storm. Moonlight filtered through the ship’s porthole, painting silver onto the wooden floorboards of Johnny’s cabin.

Y/N sat on his bed, one of Johnny’s crisp white dress shirts hanging loosely off her shoulders, barely buttoned. Her bare legs were folded beneath her, the soft fabric brushing along her thighs, his scent wrapping around her like a second skin.

When Johnny entered the room, she didn’t need to look up. She felt him.

“You’re not just here to grab something,” she said quietly, voice soft, teasing.

Johnny didn’t answer right away. He closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a second. Just watching her.

“You looked too good for me to pretend I was,” he admitted, voice low, laced with something far more vulnerable than usual.

Y/N turned slowly to face him, her eyes finding his in the dim glow of the lantern on the wall. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

“Which is exactly why I’m here now,” he said, crossing the room with that familiar slow stride. “I wanted to see you. Not just as my siren. Not as part of the crew. Just… you.”

She stood, letting the shirt slip off one shoulder, exposing the smooth curve of her skin. Her bare feet padded toward him until she was close enough to feel the heat radiating from his chest.

Her fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt. “Then see me.”

And he did.

He cupped her face and kissed her—soft, deep, reverent. Nothing hurried. No teasing games. Just the kind of kiss that said stay with me and I need you all at once.

His hands slid down her back, palms splaying against the small of her waist before gripping beneath her thighs and lifting her easily. She wrapped her legs around his hips, their mouths still locked together as he carried her to the bed and laid her gently down.

Johnny knelt over her, undoing the buttons of the shirt one by one, kissing each patch of skin as it was revealed. Her breath hitched as he took his time, lips moving slowly over her chest, her sternum, the valley between her breasts.

She threaded her fingers into his hair, tugging gently as his kisses grew deeper, his hands more possessive.

When he finally entered her, it was with a low groan, his forehead pressed to hers, eyes locked on hers. The stretch was slow, satisfying, her breath stuttering at how full he made her feel.

He moved inside her with measured, deliberate thrusts, letting every slide, every grind of their hips speak the things they couldn’t say out loud. Her name fell from his lips in a whisper, again and again, like it grounded him.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his back, her legs still tight around his waist. She met each of his thrusts with her own, every motion bringing them closer, deeper.

Their hands clasped between their bodies, fingers laced together tightly like they never wanted to let go. He kissed her mouth slowly, messily, groaning into her lips every time she clenched around him.

“You feel like home,” he breathed against her mouth.

Y/N whimpered softly, one hand tangled in his hair, the other gripping his hand tighter. “Then stay with me. For as long as we can.”

He kissed her hard at that, thrusting deeper, slower, dragging it out until both of them were trembling.

Their release came quietly—no shouting, no desperation. Just quiet, gasping breaths, his forehead pressed to hers, her nails raking gently down his back as he shuddered above her.

Even after, Johnny didn’t pull away. He stayed inside her, buried deep, his arms wrapping around her waist, pressing kisses along her shoulder, her collarbone, her jaw.

They lay tangled in the sheets as the first light of morning touched the edge of the sea outside. The world was about to shift—but for now, there was only this.

Only them.

-----------------

The final confrontation had begun at dawn.

Johnny stood at the helm, tension carved into every line of his body. The plan was set—lure the remaining three Royal Navy ships into a trap and destroy them, once and for all. Y/N had slipped into the water just before sunrise, her touch still warm on his chest, her whispered “be careful” echoing in his mind.

But almost immediately, something went wrong.

One of the Navy ships turned unexpectedly—not toward Johnny’s vessel, but toward the sea. Then a second did the same, ignoring the chaos of cannon fire and smoke to follow the dark, slinking shadow just beneath the surface.

“They’re going after her,” Taeyong shouted from the quarterdeck. “They’re ignoring us—they know she’s here!”

Johnny’s stomach dropped. “No, no—”

They’d figured it out. The Navy had realized she was the real threat. And worse—they weren’t trying to kill her. They were trying to capture her.

“Full port!” Johnny shouted. “Cut them off! NOW!”

But it was too late. One of the ships dropped weighted nets into the water, massive iron chains clanking as they were dragged below the surface. The second began tossing something foul into the sea—an oily substance Johnny recognized instantly.

Binding pitch.

He gritted his teeth. They wanted to coat her gills, disable her voice. Trap her like an animal.

Johnny’s ship veered hard, trying to draw their attention, but the enemy didn’t take the bait. The third Navy ship remained engaged with Johnny’s crew, keeping them boxed in while the others continued the hunt.

And for a moment—just a moment—there was only silence beneath the chaos.

Then the water split.

Not from cannon fire.

Not from debris.

From the sea itself.

Figures erupted from the waves, otherworldly and furious—siren sisters. At least four of them, hair flowing like ink in the water, eyes glowing with the rage of the deep. Their song began—not seductive this time, but sharp and disorienting, like the scream of a storm itself.

The men on the Navy ships fell one by one—some clutching their ears, others falling into trances, staggering overboard as if in a dream. The sirens moved swiftly, sinking ships from below, dragging sailors down with them. The sea boiled with movement, and within minutes, both vessels were torn apart and dragged into the depths.

Johnny stood frozen at the helm, watching the chaos dissolve into stillness.

Only the one ship remained—the one he and his crew had fought, now drifting with torn sails and no one left aboard.

“Captain!” Taeyong called out, panting. “Look!”

There she was.

Y/N.

Her shoulders broke the surface first, then the rest of her, slick and gleaming in the early sun. She hovered in the water, breathless but alive, salt crusted along her skin, her eyes already searching for him.

Johnny felt a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding finally escape.

“Thank god…” he whispered, stepping closer to the edge of the ship.

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She just gave him a single nod—confirmation that she was whole—and glanced toward her sisters. They were already disappearing back into the sea, their job done.

Y/N looked back at Johnny one last time, her gaze lingering.

And then she dove under.

Gone with the tide.

Johnny stood there, lips parting, his voice low and sincere as he said to the open water, “Thank you.”

He knew she heard it.

He always knew when she did.

“Get the sails up!” he barked, turning to the crew, voice sharper now. “We’re done here.”

And as the battered but victorious ship turned away from the wreckage, Johnny kept his eyes on the horizon—where the sea kissed the sky—and imagined her swimming just beneath it, free, wild, and watching.

------------

The ocean was quiet again.

Y/N floated lazily near a jagged outcrop of stone, watching the water ripple around her. The sun had barely risen, streaks of gold spilling across the endless blue. Her sisters had already disappeared back to the deep after the battle weeks ago, but not before she thanked them properly.

They'd met in a hidden cove, waves lapping at the shore, breath still heavy from the fight.

“You didn’t have to come,” Y/N had said, brushing salt from her hair.

One of them, a tall siren with eyes like storm clouds, had smiled. “We owed you. After what happened all those years ago… when you got trapped and we couldn’t save you…”

“You tried,” Y/N said gently. “That’s what matters.”

Another siren shook her head, voice tight. “You shouldn’t have had to escape alone.”

Y/N had smiled at them then, soft but sure. “I didn't escape alone. And I found my way back. That’s what matters now.”

Now, weeks later, she felt the familiar pull again.

Not the sirens’ call—something quieter. Warmer.

She sensed his presence before she saw the boat.

It was small, nothing like the vessel she knew as Johnny’s—no towering sails or crew bustling across the deck. Just a modest wooden boat, drifting slowly toward her with practiced control.

And there he was.

Johnny.

One hand on the wheel, the other shielding his eyes from the sun as he scanned the waves. The moment he saw her, his shoulders relaxed.

He didn’t call out. He just let the boat drift until it reached her, then sat back, eyes soft, face marked with sun and salt and something far more vulnerable.

“I didn’t want to wait,” he said, voice low. “The crew’s not far behind, the ship’s just around the cove. But I wanted to come first. Myself.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly in the water, brow raised. “Why?”

He smiled a little. “To thank you. For saving me. And my crew. Again.”

She swam closer, reaching the edge of the boat and placing her hands on the worn wood. “You’ve already thanked me.”

Johnny takes out a golden bracelet, the same one they saw in the marketplace weeks ago, shimmering with the emerald stones. He gently puts it on her hand.

“Not properly. Here, this bracelet will match your gold necklace you're always wearing.” He leaned over, brushing her wet hair from her face. 

“Y/N, I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you. Back then… when I found you half-dead in that cage. I didn’t even know who—or what—you were. I just knew I had to keep you safe. And now…”

His throat tightened.

“You saved all of us. Even when they were hunting you. You still chose us.”

Y/N’s lips parted, then curved into a small, glowing smile. She raised a hand and cupped his face gently, thumb stroking his cheekbone.

“You saved me first, Johnny,” she said softly. “All those years ago. You saw me as something worth saving… before I even knew it myself.”

-------

Wanna read the rest, including bonus scenes of how they met + their relationship leading up to the first scene? Subscribe to my patreon here or access the full story here. Leave a tip here!

Sneak peak of how they met:

She jerked, eyes flashing. Someone was coming.

A young man appeared, barely more than a boy. No more than seventeen, with dark hair curling behind his ears and trembling fingers holding a dull blade.

She hissed.

Back pressed to the cage, heart pounding, ready to fight, to scream, to—

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the boy whispered urgently. “I swear—I swear it.”

[kongjjen]

threatened ⋆☀︎. lee haechan

SYNOPSIS: captain of the football team, lee haechan claims he has it all. but he doesn't have you, who's always been so unattainable, yet somehow you still end up dating the student body president and his rival. but he's not one to give up easily because he knows he always gets what he wants, and your boyfriend should definitely feel threatened by him.

PAIRING: athlete!haechan x female reader

GENRE: college au, enemies to ? au, love triangle!au, angst, smut, cheating!au

WORD COUNT: 23.5k

CONTAINS: riize's sungchan (im sorry once AGAIN). psychological negligence, jealousy, one sided rivalry (for the most part). love triangle of sorts, cheating, smut (only between haechan and reader). unprotected penetrative sex, cream pie, fingering and oral (female receiving), public sex, big dick!haechan, emotional distance. author's note at the end.

inspired by michael jackson's song threatened.

read more of TASTE OF SUN HERE

©️ KONGJJEN 2025. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.

Lee Haechan claims he has it all. 

He’s a twenty-something year old, good looking guy, he has the charms, he has the smile. His eyes hold an immense power that could seduce even a blind person, and his voice could lull and enamour the deaf. 

He’s an excellent presence around campus, everybody knows him. And how could they not, when he’s the captain of the football team? The only team in the entire college that made it out of local matches against other local teams, the NCIT Bears Football Team made it big thanks to Lee Haechan’s tenacity and raw talent.

He’s a leader, he leads. He never follows, not even when it’s about his academic wellbeing and following his professors. He’s surrounded by people who look up to him, and he thinks there isn’t one single person who doesn’t know who he is, in this whole campus. 

Heads turn and mouths start whispering as soon as he passes people on corridors, in the parking lot, even at the coffee shop at the corner just outside of campus. He lives and thrives off the attention, and he’s well aware of it.

His friends think he’s a showoff and sometimes he exaggerates, taking things to next level or making situations escalade when there’s no need to do so, but he doesn’t care. And as much as he loves his friends and cherishes whatever it is they have to say about anything he does, Lee Haechan has a big pride and ego. He’s proud, nothing goes unnoticed and words will start stinging as soon as they leave his mouth when he’s not happy. He’s proud, his ego drips with self love and shameless confidence, which leads to him not taking challenges lightly — ever.

Lee Haechan claims he has it all. But he knows that’s not true — he doesn’t have you.

The reality stings every single time he sees you around campus, with friends or that monstrosity you introduce to everyone as your boyfriend — Jung Sungchan. What does that loser have, that he doesn’t? What exactly did you see in him that made you think ‘Wow, he might just be the one for me,’? Lee Haechan wonders. Because you could have gone for anyone else in this campus and he wouldn’t have cared this much, but you’re literally in this supposed romantic relationship with his rival, out of all people.

What exactly do you see in him? What does Jung Sungchan have, that Haechan doesn’t? Is it because he’s the Student Body President? Haechan swears he’ll call for an impeachment and he’ll steal his spot, if that’s the case. 

Do you like smart guys? Haechan never pegged you as one going after big brains instead of good looks — but he swears he’ll do anything to get even better grades than he already does, if it means you’ll spare him a look.

Because each and every interactions the two of you had so far, they have been disastrous. With you avoiding him, not replying to him or to anything he has to say, it took you a few months before you actually started fighting back. And that’s precisely the problem. If you just shut up for a bit longer, Haechan would have given up eventually, and he’s well aware of this fact, as well as his closest friends who have literally begged him to stop losing his mind over you, since you were obviously uninterested. 

But then you snarled back at him, and Haechan felt like an angel just spoke to him words of love and encouragement to go on professing his interest — even if said angel literally told him to ‘fuck off and die’.

It was enough of a sign for Haechan to go on, to make it obvious to everyone around him that he wanted you in all the ways possible. From literally staring at you with heart shaped eyes as you took a sip of your coffee and literally spilled it on your cream coloured hoodie, to doing everything in his power for your paths to cross coincidentally, it was obvious to everyone witnessing that you poked Haechan’s interested.

And seeing your boyfriend walking hand in hand with you hasn’t ever discouraged him. Because one thing is certain — Lee Haechan’s ambition knows no limits, and he eventually gets what he wants. And Jung Sungchan should definitely feel threatened.

There’s something tugging at his chest every single time he looks at you, and then he feels like he’s been hit with a brick when he sees you holding hands with Slanderman’s cousin.

You hear him before you can see him, because he’s always been obnoxiously loud — during classes, on hallways, in the cafeteria on the fourth floor that you used to pick just so you could avoid seeing him.

Sharing a class with Lee Haechan has always felt like a grieving experience. He’s terribly nosy, incredibly noisy for a man, but you can’t deny the way he never lacks. He’s always sporting that insufferable grin when he sees he got an excellent mark, he’s always doing that arrogant poking the cheek with his tongue he always does when someone retorts something back to him, he has the cockiness of a thousand peacocks when he scores a goal.  

Granted that he has something to be cocky about, especially when it comes to his abilities and achievements as the captain of the football team, you still really can’t stand him. You’re also not sure where his sick obsession with driving you insane comes from, but you don’t want to find out either. You just want to be left alone.

“And then I told this girl that I will try making female hygiene products free for all female students across the entire campus,” your boyfriend bit into his own sandwich after explaining the brief meeting he had with student representatives this morning. 

Sitting in the bleachers of the football field, you enjoy lunch while the sun kisses both of your faces after a long and busy morning. He’s had meetings on top of courses, and you just finished a cramming session in the most secluded spot of the library, where you knew no one was going to find you. No one, not even him.

“You can do that?” You ask, mouth half full with your own sandwich that he so carefully and lovingly made for you today.

He nods, chewing and looking you straight in the eye, “As a matter of fact, I can,” his eyes sparkle in the sunlight as he looks at you, “As the President of the student body, I can at least bring it up and fight for it,”

This is exactly why you love him. Sungchan has never been selfish, deciding to run for president of the student body so he could cater to the real needs of student, and not just asking for funding for the university’s sports teams and for useless appliances. He’s kind, he stands up for what he believes in, and doesn’t let a certain asshole demoralise him. 

“I want to help you out, I can go around and get people to sign your petition or something…” You propose, feeling the crazy need to be as involved in this as he is. You can learn a thing or two about kindness, especially from your boyfriend, who’s the salt of the earth. 

“You would do that?” He asks with his mouth full, and the expression he’s sporting makes warmth spread all throughout your chest, “For me?” He points at himself, and you can’t resist the urge to kiss him.

You lurch towards him, grabbing his face with your free hand to bring him closer to you, and you peck his lips in a repeated motion a few times.

“Not for you,” you whisper, letting him go, “For women,” you correct him, and he fights the urge to laugh.

He clears his throat, “Right, my bad! What was I even thinking?” His tone drips with sarcasm, and he slaps a hand across his forehead in a joking manner.

His gesture makes you burst out laughing, and the sound is so sweet and crystalline to Sungchan’s ears, that he pulls you in for a sweet kiss. You feel him smiling as your lips press against his, responding to his kiss even if his gesture took you by surprise.

But the moment is suddenly interrupted when a ball hits Sungchan’s shoulder, making him stand up to catch the ball that had landed just a few feet away from you after hitting him, and making a screech escape you. 

Sungchan spins the ball between his fingers, looking at you, “Are you okay?” He asks all worried, but you know he’s the one who took the hit, the ball didn’t even touch you. 

You nod, the erratic beating of your heart making your ears ring. You see Sungchan turning his head to the side, prompting you to do the same. Your blood starts boiling when you see the culprit running towards you, bright smile on display like he’s ready to frolic in a field of daisies.

You should have known Lee Haechan was going to ruin your lunch, because somehow he always ends up ruining your mood by appearing out of nowhere when you’re in public, walking or just simply chilling with your boyfriend. 

And you know that this one sided rivalry he has with your boyfriend started the moment they both ran to become President of the student body, but ultimately Sungchan won. And what did he expect? He already was the captain of the football team, had girls lined to get to please and know him, he already had everything he wanted and anything imaginable lined in orderly manner at his feet. His greed knows no bounds, you’re now aware of it, because what was he even thinking, trying to monopolise this entire campus? Ever since your boyfriend won the race to becoming president, Haechan has made it known that he hates him, and tried numerous times to make his life a living hell — apparently even trying to hit his head with a ball just because he’s sitting somewhere in the bleachers.

“Sorry guys!” He screams as he jogs leisurely towards you. His fake smile still plastered on his face, his hair bounces around like he’s the embodiment of innocence. Why is he even here? You made sure the football team didn’t have practice when you decided you were going to have lunch here, “Didn’t mean to hit you,” 

You scoff, “Are you sure about that?” You retort, jumping to your feet as soon as he gets closer enough for you to see the shadow of a smug smile in the corner of his mouth, like he’s fighting for his life not to give himself away. 

“Well, I didn’t mean to hit you,” he accentuates the word, making sure that this time you’ll understand what he means, “And I didn’t, didn’t I?” He finally breaks in a smile, throwing a lazy glance towards your boyfriend. You know he did this on purpose — damn this man’s perfect aiming.

“What if you actually hit her, though?” Sungchan asks calmly, and you don’t understand how it’s possible for him to always be this calm. With Lee Haechan showing how much he despises him, and with you getting hot headed every time this nuisance of a man is brought up, you wonder how he’s still so cool. 

That’s why you love and admire him, he’s always so collected, so gentle, and even when he’s well aware that Haechan’s ball was aimed at him, he still doesn’t mind. You are his main concern, because he knows he can take physical hits and insults, but you shouldn’t be in this position, you should never have to go through something like this.

“But I didn’t,” Haechan shrugs, uninterested, and his gaze falls once again on your figure. You’re nearly trembling with anger, and your fist is literally begging to be shoved down his throat — but knowing him? You think he’d like it. “I never meant to hurt her. You on the other hand…” Haechan tsks, shrugging again like he’s absolutely innocent, even if he just admitted to purposefully aiming at Sungchan.

You don’t allow Sungchan to reply back, because you know he’s probably going to bring up Haechan’s behaviour and trying to talk things through, or maybe he’s going to bring up the fact that he could denounce Haechan to the dean — so you take matter into your own hands, literally. 

Snatching the ball from Sungchan’s hands, you throw it at Haechan’s head with all the force you could muster up, but your attempt fails miserably when the ball lands on his chest and he blocks it with his arms, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“It’s almost as if you didn’t wanna hurt me…” he lets a daydreaming sigh escape past his lips, and he looks at a spot behind you with a glimmer in his eyes.

This is another thing you hate about him. He doesn’t take anything seriously, and there’s just no way for anyone to win against him when he’s involved, be it a nerve wrecking situation, a mocking, or a fun one. 

“I will take that ball and shove it up your ass,” you say through gritted teeth, and you hear Sungchan sighing, moving beside you to gather all your things, including the leftover sandwiches scattered to the side — because he hates littering. 

He mumbles a ‘Let’s go,’ in your ear, knowing you’re going to start to verbally abuse Haechan if he doesn’t take you far away from said man soon, but you don’t hear him or anything else he might have added, too busy being focused on Haechan and the crystalline and amused laugh that escaped him as he plays with the ball in his hands.

“Well, baby, don’t threaten me with a good time!” He rasps amused when he’s done laughing, and it only makes your blood boil even more, but Sungchan’s arm is draped around your shoulders, guiding you away from the bleachers and consequently away from the football field.

And just one look back to where Haechan is still standing, just to see him throwing you heart fingers as you walk away with your boyfriend, and you raise your middle finger for him to see. But it does nothing to irritate Haechan, on the contrary — you hear him mumble a ‘cute’ before he walks backwards towards the empty football field.

Lee Haechan might not have it all right now, but he knows that everything is going to change at some point. Everything will be his.

Your leg bounces as you feel like you’re being kept on pins and needles. The cool air of the night gives your bare thighs goosebumps, your skirt too flimsy to keep you warm as you totally ignored the weather forecast that called for a windy evening. 

The autumn air is setting on everything around you, the falling leaves, the cool wind that blows in random and powerful gusts, the unpredictable weather that doesn’t give anything away — not even the fact that tonight you should have put on a pair of jeans instead of a skirt. 

You’re growing cold, and more impatient as the time passes without receiving a sign from your boyfriend. You’re standing right outside the theatre’s doors, ready to go in and relax while the warm air engulfs you, yet instead you’re still left outside hoping you’ll get a sign that he’s close to getting here. 

It’s date night, you’re about to go watch a revival screening of one of your favourite films ever — Bridget Jones’s Diary — something that Sungchan came up with in the first place, yet you still didn’t get a text back from him. But you know he’s not to blame for the lack of communication, not tonight, because he told you he was going to be in a meeting with the dean and the university’s board members to try and fight for that one project involving the feminine care products, telling you that he’ll join you for date night straight out of the meeting. 

But his tardiness is what’s making your leg bounce. Will he make it? You don’t like spending date nights by yourself, even if it’s a film you hold so dear to your heart thanks to the romantic comedy excellency. And while you’re anxious about him missing date night and the lack of communication from his part, you also want his meeting to go well. 

Sungchan’s kindness and heartwarming personality knows no bounds, and if he succeeds and his project is approved, everyone around campus is going to truly love him. You can’t imagine what the student body could have become if the other candidate won this race — you guess it was all going to be about his team getting financing for some new equipment and a ton of balls they can kick. 

You drape your leather jacket around yourself, trying to overlook the cold that’s starting to seep through your sweater, and you just as you start thinking you should probably go in and buy tickets for whenever Sungchan is going to get here, your phone buzzes in the pocket of your jacket.

‘So sorry Y/n, I’m still in the meeting,’ you read Sungchan’s text, and you see the three dots appearing right after he sees you’ve seen the text, ‘Let’s go to the next revival’ . 

You sigh, and as much as you try remaining positive, you can’t help the disappointment filling you, your heart feeling heavy with guilt and selfishness as you try to decide what you should or should not feel in this moment. 

You feel so incredibly selfish for wanting to spend time with your boyfriend right now, like it doesn’t even matter that he’s away for a good cause, and you feel like you’re contradicting yourself. You claimed you’re happy he’s doing a good thing for the student body, yet you’re disappointed this meeting is happening tonight of all nights — and that date night is completely ruined. 

You know it isn’t his fault and that there was nothing he could have done to accelerate the meeting, especially because he’s not as important as the other people in that room, so negotiations must have felt nerve wrecking to him. Yet you’re here bouncing your leg — in anger, this time. 

You reply curtly to his text, also sending an emoji so his positivity doesn’t deflate but also because you don’t want to make him overthink this whole situation and make him feel bad, especially now, and you start walking back to the dorms. 

Your inner emotional turmoil helps you with ignoring the cold, or the growing speed of the gusts of wind that feel like a slap against your delicate cheek. The disappointment takes over the selfishness and guilt, and your thoughts start battling against each other once again. 

There’s a honk that makes your heart suddenly skip a beat, and you look to your left out of reflex, trying to see where the loud noise comes from. 

Driving at a slow speed as close to the curb as physically possible, the window rolls down with an electric grinding sound, “Y/n! What are you doing in the rain? Get in!” 

You roll your eyes, immediately recognising whose voice it is, and you just go on walking faster. You were so deep into your own head that you didn’t even notice the big droplets coming down on your forehead, already starting to wet your hair.

“You’re gonna catch a cold!” He insists, speeding up a bit when he sees you picking up your pace — nearly running, “Hey! Don’t ignore me!” 

As if I ever could, you think to yourself. You always hear him before you see him, the timbre of his voice so unmistakably him that it’s absolutely painful to try and ignore. You always end up hearing stuff you couldn’t care less about, but still unable to block out his voice and the words he articulates. 

And then you flinch hearing his prolonged honking, that you try to ignore as you try to look at the path ahead of you through all the rain coming down and straight into your face. He keeps honking, at some point picking an annoying rhythm before returning to the usual prolonged one, and it becomes clear to you that he won’t stop until you get into his car. 

The fact that it’s evening and it might become a disturbance to the people around, especially to those who live in the area, and you really don’t want to be accused of enabling this behaviour, you decide to give in — just this once.

You lurch towards his car, opening the door and getting in before he could blink twice. One more honking and you were going to flip his car off the road, you’re sure. You slam the door after yourself, making him suck air through his teeth as he picked up a normal speed.

“Jesus, Y/n, whatever did that door do to you…” he comments stopping at a red light, and you scoff while fastening your seatbelt. 

But you ignore his comment, throwing him a quick look, only to find him already looking at you. Lee Haechan’s features are sparkling in the red hue of the traffic lights, damp locks covering the sides of his face after being rained on as well, most probably. 

“What?” You sigh, averting your gaze from his piercing one.

“What were you thinking, walking in the rain?” He nags, and by the way he’s not adding anything else, you can deduce he’s actually waiting for an answer instead of being sarcastic and a nuisance like he always is.

“Like you even care?” You laugh, but it lacks amusement. As creepy as it might seem to actually think of it, Haechan knows your real laugh. He’s heard it numerous times, when you laughed at something your friends told you, or during your shared class when your professor made a joke. Your laugh rings louder and brighter than all, and Haechan knows something’s off right now. “As if you didn’t throw a ball at my head last week,”

He clicks his tongue after hearing your smart mouth, “I didn’t throw a ball at your head last week. But I did throw it at your boyfriend’s,” he corrects you, eyes back on the road as you’re stuck in traffic. 

“So now you admit you wanted to hit him,” you turn around a bit in your seat, and you see a shadow of a cocky smirk.

“Baby,” he turns around to look at you, black irises glinting in the red lights, “I admitted to it already, straight to his face,”

“What exactly is your problem with Sungchan?” You’re getting worked up, not liking how relaxed he’s being with admitting to committing aggravated assault.

“Where is he, by the way?” He asks as matter-of-factly, still looking at you to see your reaction to his words, “Why did he leave his girlfriend alone in the cold rain?” He goes on, but his tone is light — and it doesn’t have to be an accusing or mocking one to annoy you, “Did he ditch you?”

Your eyebrows furrow, scoffing, “He did not ditch me!” You lie, shaking your head at him, “He’s busy with presidential tasks,” 

“Yeah, right,” He laughs, and moves his other hand on top of the steering wheel to rest, “That’s why you were waiting in the cold and then you left when it started raining. He didn’t ditch you like, at all,” He’s ridiculing you, because he knows the truth — even if you’re not sure of how or why he does.

“Do you believe the lies you’re telling?” You try to defend your honour once again, because Haechan really doesn’t need to get an insight into your relationship with Sungchan. 

He lets a huff of laughter escape him, “No,” he shakes his head, and the car finally starts moving, “Do you believe the lies you’re telling?” He accentuates the word, and it hits a nerve. How can he know so many things about you, even when you’re trying your best to keep a mask on? 

“Where am I taking you?” He asks as he didn’t just read you like an open book.

You shrug, “Sure, wouldn’t you like to know where I live? So you can stalk me, most probably,” you accuse, looking out the window. You try to keep your usual mocking tone, the one you always use on him, and you really hope he doesn’t pick up how shaken you are by the whole thing. You’ll have to do some serious introspection when you get home.

“Okay,” he claps his hands quickly, startling you, before placing them back on the steering wheel, “Maybe I should just take you to my place instead,”

You panic, straightening into your seat, “Just turn right after the lights,” You point, sighing defeated, and he bursts out laughing.

For some reason, your attitude is easily deflected tonight, and Haechan doesn’t find it as enjoyable to tease you. Maybe it’s because your boyfriend isn’t here to be his own personal punching bag, receiving mockery and insults and multiple balls across his head, or maybe it’s just that he sees you’re not really in the right mood for your usual back and forth. So he drops all banter, he doesn’t open his mouth for the rest of the drive, and only listens to your soft breathing and the quietness of your voice as you tell him whether he needs to take a turn to the right or a turn left.

He knows where you live already, and not because he stalked you or anything. He swears he hasn’t gone that far, but because he once hooked up with a girl living in your same hall, and coincidentally on your same floor too. So when he tried quietly sneaking out in the middle of the night, you were just coming home, too drunk to even acknowledge that he was a few feet away from you.

“Thanks… I guess,” You thank him before getting out of his car, but you don’t wait to hear his reply, running to the entrance to your building. 

And Haechan should feel ecstatic that he’s managed to have this interaction with you. While every other time he’s ever talked to you, you snarled back at him or straight up ignored him, tonight you gave in a little. For fucks sake, you even asked him what his problem with your boyfriend was, and what exactly were you expecting him to say? That this isn’t actually about the fact that he won the election over him with so many more votes than expected, because he actually didn’t really care — because it was more like an extracurricular activity he wanted to pick up, but wasn’t dying to actually win the election; or should he have told you that it all comes back to when he realised he liked you after sharing a class, but took your rejection lightly because he thought it was only going to be a matter of time until you gave in to his charms, only to then see you holding hands with his rival?

So you, the one who was so hard to get, so hard to get past the high walls you had built around yourself, you actually gave in and started dating Jung Sungchan, out of all people?

Haechan couldn’t let that slide, couldn’t live with the thought that the girl he has always wanted was now under the spell of his rival’s charms. And what charms, exactly? Does he talk to you about how he excels in his statistics class? Does he rizz you up by talking about numbers? 

Out of all the people you could have gone public with, Sungchan being the one you chose really hurt Haechan’s ego. And from being hard to get and unattainable, you started holding hands and kissing that man in public for everyone to see. So you weren’t that unattainable, after all. And by the way Haechan has picked your mood tonight, he knows that your mask is not that hard to crack.

The amount of greetings you went through today has you genuinely concerned. You never knew how many students this university has, you never knew that there are about a gazillion people roaming the hallways and the public spaces of this campus, yet here you are.

Faces that you’ve absolutely never seen before, faces that seemed so happy to see you even if you didn’t know who they were. People who seemed to know you, yet you don’t remember ever seeing them around. 

That’s how your day went, at least for the first part of it. Running around campus to gather signatures on your boyfriend’s petition, and there haven’t been many people refusing to sign it. Because Sungchan actually did it — he managed to get the approval from the dean and the board if he could gather enough signatures, from females and males alike, and like the good girlfriend you are — and because you promised him — you split his forms in two and started roaming around different parts of campus. 

And unfortunately, no amount of happy faces and chatting about your boyfriend’s initiatives and feeling so proud of him could preserve the good mood you had until you reached a certain part of campus. The football field — where Haechan and his team are practicing right now. 

You guess you could spend some more time trying to find others who still haven’t signed your — or Sungchan’s papers yet, or you could get the football team’s ones easily and on the spot. 

So you walk over to the group of men running around like a herd of sheep, and your walk is determined. Some might think that you’re determined to burn the whole zone down to the ground, but you give everyone small smiles as they look at you confused.

Even them are freaked out about seeing you close to their captain — such a dangerous thing to witness. And then you hear him, telling them to go on with practicing, and he runs over to the spot you’re waiting in. 

“Isn’t this a nice surprise?” His tone is saccharine sweet, panting a little from all the running around. You can’t believe people actually enjoy this sport, “What can I-”

“Please sign this. Here, and write your full name down here,” you interrupt him, instructing him about what he needs to do by pointing the pen on the blank box top of the list.

“What’s this?” He furrows his brows at you, throwing you a confused look. You take a good look at him, he’s breathing heavily through his small nose, confused eyes scanning the front introductory page of the form. There’s sweat glistening his forehead, his cheeks are hot and rosy from being so active, and his fringe is damp with sweat, combed back and away from his forehead as he tries getting some cool air on his heated skin. There’s something about the way he’s so focused, so lost into thought that he brings his tongue out to dampen his bottom lip, something that makes your insides churn. Has his profile always been this good-looking? 

“Nah, no way,” he pushes the form back into your hands when he sees your boyfriend’s name on the front page, “I’m not signing this,”

“What?” You bark, thinking your ears are deceiving you.

“Good initiative, but I won’t sign your boyfriend’s petition,” he explains, shrugging, turning his back to you as if the conversation is really over.

But it really isn’t, not until you say otherwise.

You grab him by the forearm before he can leave your side, “If it’s a good initiative, then why don’t you sign it?” You push, tone high with irritation, because he’s really pushing your buttons. Does a small disagreement between him and your boyfriend mean he’s going to overlook the needs of an entire — and important part of this community?

“I won’t do your boyfriend any favours,” he explains apathetically, looking at you briefly before his eyes land on your hand still squeezing his forearm. Your palm is tight around his tensed muscles, his skin is covered in a light sheer layer of sweat, and you feel like the skin of the palm of your hand is burning as you’re keeping him into place.

“But you won’t be doing him a favour now,” You explain, and you fail to notice the way Haechan’s eyes soften while looking at you. You’re still so upset that he doesn’t want to help you, you know threats and verbal abuse do nothing but turn him on so it’s of no use right now.

“Oh, is that so?” He relaxes, or so you think — or feel, as you feel him relaxing his arm. He leans a bit closer to you, but he really can’t help it. You’re so upset that your smart mouth doesn’t make any comments right now, doesn't insult him or his sport, and you don’t even notice how his chest is almost touching your arm.

Except you do pick up on his proximity to you, you pick up on the heat that comes out of his body — or maybe it’s just the sun and whatever’s making your insides churn that makes you feel this hot all of a sudden; you pick up on his faded perfume mixed with a light smell of sweat, you pick up on the way he’s looking down at you right now, even if your gaze doesn’t meet his, even if you don’t find it in yourself to move your eyes away from a spot on his jersey.

You gulp as discreetly as possible, pointing the pen at the empty box designed for his name, “You would be helping me,” Your voice is small, almost as if you never wanted him to hear you, to let him hear those words come out of you. 

Usually you’d tell him to fuck off and die — comeback that he claims he loves and never wants you to stop saying, to the point that he thinks you’re doing it on purpose just to rile him up because there’s no way you don’t know how much he loves it — but not right now. There’s something, a force, something that’s unconsciously pulling you in and keeping your feet glued to the grass of the football field.

“What is it? Didn’t catch what you said,” He mocks you, touching his ear.

“You’d be helping me, not him,” Your words are music to Haechan’s ears, especially after not using the term boyfriend or his government name either, just a simple pronoun — but enough to have a smirk forming in the corner of Haechan’s mouth, that he’s hardly trying to hide, or barely even trying.

He tries concealing his smirk, pushing the tip of his tongue in the inside of his cheek as he turns his head a bit to the side. 

“Well, in this case, let me sign this for you only, baby,” He rasps, and you recognise he’s using his full of shit tone on you, but you look at his face as he snatches the pen out of your hands to write his name down messily in the empty box, “Guys! Get here,” He shouts so everyone on the field can hear him, “C’mon, all of you!” He shouts once again, this time towards a couple of players that you know are his friends.

Once everyone gathers around you, he snatches the form from your hands, and points his finger towards one of the players, “All of you, sign Y/N’s petition,” he hands the pen to one of the players, “It’s for a good cause,” he completes, and no one actually questions him or his instructions, not caring enough to even ask you.

You’re not sure what’s going on, how you managed not to blow up from all the anger inside you. But you realise that this time there is none, not even a shadow of it. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have made it out of this place without at least one popping vein in your temple, and the only heavy feeling inside of you was caused by the anger the nuisance of a man caused you. 

But now it’s really not the case. One more look at him, at the way he’s looking over his players making sure everyone signs your papers, authority spilling out of every single pore of his tanned skin, and you wonder if he’s ever been this way. Has he always been this tanned? Or is it just the burning sun getting to you for staying out in the field for too long? Or maybe it’s his glistening forehead that’s what’s bringing a certain hue to his skin. 

And it doesn’t even matter right now, what could have been or what is the cause. You know that your stomach feels weird, and that you can’t really explain it. And most importantly, you can’t explain why it’s difficult to leave his side right now.

You don’t see Haechan for a bit over a couple of weeks after he signed the petition, which is weird and totally uncharacteristic of him. He was all up in your business, if he heard you laughing he’d pop off laughing even harder just to get your attention or get a reaction out of you — even if a bad, annoyed one. You swear he had a sensor for every time you were out enjoying your free time with your boyfriend. 

Like that one time he popped out of nowhere when you were having lunch sitting in the bleachers, only to proceed going for your boyfriend’s head. Or that other time when you were studying with Sungchan at one of the tables in the communal areas and he popped up, once again from nowhere, to ask you for your ‘notes’ from a class you remembered he totally attended. 

And not having him around felt off, felt like there was something missing, like the gusts of wind weren’t cool enough and like the leaves didn’t actually crunch under the soles of your shoes as you walked around. 

You’re not sure what was going on, but you stopped seeing him during classes too, and that’s when things became suspicious. What had happened to Lee Haechan? But most importantly, what was wrong with you? 

While you felt a dark cloud on top of your head, looming and inducing anxiety like you’ve never felt happiness ever before, you looked at Sungchan and tried to let everything behind. Nothing really mattered, and the cloud you felt looming was probably due to the pressure of overachieving you always felt. Maybe you were just burned out. 

But then things felt like they were shifting, and not in the right direction. Everything felt off, like there was a cosmic imbalance that your mood picked up on, like the food was insipid, like the water wasn’t thirst-quenching enough, or like your boyfriend started being too busy around campus with all his responsibilities.

If before you spent every day with Sungchan, both around campus and free time after courses were done for the day, you are now aware of the fact that these meetups have come down to one every two, three days. 

You know he has so many more responsibilities now, trying to keep up with his studies, his hobbies, his responsibilities as the rep of the student body. Too many things to do and so little time to take care of all. And you are his girlfriend, so who else could understand him better, if not you? Who’s going to be there for him when he falls asleep, exhausted from all the work he’s doing just to make everyone who trusts him happy, if not you?

At times you fail to understand, like those times when he falls asleep with the lights on at eight in the evening after getting out of the shower at your dorms, when you want to spend some alone time with him. Not even intimate times, it doesn’t have to be all that, always, because you enjoyed your time with Sungchan doing absolutely nothing even before — like eating lunch on the bleachers, or sitting on a bench outside of campus to look at people and their dogs passing you by, making up scenarios about what their lives could be like, and seeing if the dogs looked like their owners.

The small things, the real intimacy. The watching films on a random tuesday afternoon, or feeding him cereal as he speeded through a three thousand-word essay he had a deadline for at midnight that same day.

But now Sungchan tries compartmentalising his time, getting his coursework done for the whole week during weekends, and tuesday afternoon he has meeting with professors about any complains brought up to him by fellow students. And the monotony, but especially the loneliness you feel while also being surrounded by people — including your boyfriend, are literally destroying you.

Did you already notice that the leaves don’t make the crunchy sound anymore as you step on them?

“You okay?” Sungchan asks, paper cup in his hand as he takes a sip from it. You barely register his question, but you know that your repeated sighs have prompted him to bring this up.

You hum, giving him a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, doesn’t even make your cheeks full like it always does. Even if he notices, Sungchan doesn’t bring it up, and while strolling together around the streets, a huge paper cup — full of hot chocolate enough for the both of you — in hand, he hopes your sighs are just a momentary and general discontent you’re feeling. Because everyone is allowed to have those.

“Saw there’s a revival tomorrow night, for Bridget Jones, the edge on reason,” He brings it up, hoping your mood will improve after knowing one of your favourite film franchises are slowly becoming once again available on the big screens, “Wanna go together?” He proposes, giving you one of his most genuine smiles, and seeing it plastered on his face makes your heart stop.

You missed seeing your boyfriend so relaxed, so easy going for the first time in nearly a month. Autumn has already settled, and hot chocolate, popcorn, and a viewing on the big screen of Bridget Jones are the perfect anecdote to dullness and apathy. 

But maybe you’re not ready to get rid of this dull feeling that’s making your insides churn with graveness.   Maybe you’re not supposed to go through with the disappointments and unhappiness you feel at times, because not even your boyfriend can help you get out of it. And in all honestly, how could he even do it, if he can’t be punctual to the date he organised? 

Bridget Jones, a nice outfit and your favourite perfume, and then maybe making out at the movies like they used to do a long time ago — and your boyfriend is nowhere to be found. You can’t even reach him, knowing his phone is on dnd mode, you can’t reach him not even in case of an emergency. 

Frustrated out of your mind, and determined not to let your boyfriend’s missing date night ruin tonight completely, you decide to walk into the theatre, letting the warmth of the ambience engulf you. The typical smell of the old leather seats tickle your nose, and the velvet drapes around the entrance leading up to the ticket booth making you feel so calm, so at home, so excited that you finally decided not to be so dependable  on someone you relied on for so long. 

And being an old theatre, your ticket shows no seat. The film has just started, barely five minutes in, and you struggle to make your way through the dark as you try to find an empty seat to also please your needs as a viewer. 

You hear some shuffling of clothes, and then a piercing whisper, cutting through the silence coming from the other viewers, “Psssst, Y/n!” Someone calls your name, but your ears seem to perk up at the whisper, somehow recognising the voice, “Here!” The person whispers once again, this time also waving their phone’s screen your way.

Someone else shushes the person talking to you, and you hear your caller apologise, only that this time the low timbre of his voice too grave to be concealed by a flimsy whisper, and you would recognise that timbre anywhere. You squint your eyes through the dark, making your way towards the person, and you smile when you enter the last row,

“Haechan!” You whisper back, and you see him giving you a cheesy smile. He looks cozy, wearing a large sweater, you know he’s here to relax. “What are you doing here?” You frown at him, not thinking you’d finally find the Lee Haechan at a revival screening of Bridget Jones, while wearing cozy clothes and ruffled, unkept hair. It’s an image you never thought you’d ever see, “Where the hell have you been? It’s been such a long time-”

“Whoa, seems like someone missed me,” he bats his eyes at you, and his irises sparkle in the dark thanks to the white on the big screen.

You punch him, “Don’t flatter yourself, I was worried no one would be there to throw a ball at my head like, ever again,”

He rolls his eyes at you, clicking his tongue but pressing his lips in a tight line as he realised the noise he made might earn him another scorning look and a series of shushes from other people. 

“Again, for the hundredth time, I didn’t throw it at your head,” he tries to keep his voice down, but you see his mocking expression.

‘I know, I know,’ you mouth for him to see, moving your hand as if to dismiss him. There’s something endearing about him in the dark, when his features blend and make him look like he’s never wronged you in his entire life. The crimson sweater he’s wearing makes him look like the perfect geek who leads a double, more exciting life out of his studies. Funnily enough, in real life he’s the jock — but not right now. Right now, he’s just Haechan, who’s never really wronged you.

Haechan looks at you, at the way you pause to look at the screen. You’re not sitting comfortably like he is, you’re seating on the edge of the seat like you’re impatient to talk to him, fully turned towards him so he can hear your whispers. 

Your eyes are beautiful, sparkling with every flashing on the big screen, you try to suppress a smile when you hear one of the lines. He looks at the way you’re dressed — you look like you’re ready to go on a date, and a lump sets in his throat, even if he tries gulping it away as soon as possible. Just for a few minutes, he’ll imagine he’s your date, and that you’re actually excited to see him tonight.

You suddenly turn around to look at him once again, and Haechan is caught off guard, caught staring, and it’s not like he hasn’t been caught doing it before. But up until this moment, his staring was intentional, deliberate so as to get a reaction out of you — be it even anger. It didn’t matter to Haechan, as long as he could have a bit of attention coming from you, straight directed to him, he was happy.

But now you look at him. You don’t roll your eyes, you don’t scream at him, you don’t threaten to run him over with one of the electric bikes around campus. You’re looking at him like you’re enjoying this moment, like you’re happy to actually see him, like there are so many things you want to ask him but don’t know where to start — and Haechan is confused. What changed in the last weeks, so drastically that he doesn’t have to jump through loops and do backflips into a pool full of sharks just to get your attention?

“Why did you disappear? Where did you go?” You ask him, and Haechan’s ears perk up at your question. You seem sincere, like you actually care.

“I had a few matches out of town, with the team you know?” He tries whispering, but looks around himself to see if he’s bothering anyone around the two of you — knowing that sometimes whispering can be such a hard thing for him to do, “Then I fell ill and my parents insisted on going home to get back on track,”

Someone turns around to look at the two of you, but clearly eyeing Haechan to send a message, then turning back to look at the screen once again. 

Haechan rolls his eyes, showing the back of the man’s head a clear middle finger, even if you’re the only one who can see his gesture, and it makes you snort.

He turns around to look at you once again, ears delighted after hearing your reaction, “All the boys were away, you really didn’t notice anyone missing?” He inquires, talking about his players.

You shake your head, looking at him confused, “I don’t care about the boys,” You admit, and you see he takes a few seconds to process your words before that usual smug smirk makes an appearance in the corner of his mouth.

“So do you finally admit you care about me?” His voice is just a bit above a whisper, raw, teasing, and his words make you roll your eyes at him. You see him laughing quietly, then looking you up and down with a teasing smile, “Date night? Where’s that fuc-” 

But you interrupt him, placing two fingers on his lips in order to shut him up.

It takes him by surprise. Not only are you kind to him, and excited to see him, but you’re also touching him in a delicate way. His gaze finally meets yours, and you shake your head, giving him a sad smile.

Did your boyfriend start fumbling you? Has Haechan been away for that long?

The way you keep your cold fingers on his lips, and the way your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, doesn’t even reflect a gram of happiness coming from you, and the way you shake your head at him asking him to stop talking about your boyfriend makes Haechan wonder — are you asking him not to denigrate your boyfriend for the nth time, or are you asking Haechan to stop talking about him because you’d rather not hear about him right now?

Haechan decides to take his chances, hoping it’s the latter option, but it makes him curious, it makes him wonder how bad it is. Is this why you’re being so kind to him right now? 

Your fingertips are cold yet velvety on his lips, and he grabs your hand away from his face, squeezing it gently in his. He looks at you, looks for any sign of repulsion or hatred in your eyes, and there’s none.

Lee Haechan’s ambition has always been his biggest and best trait. One jump and he could reach the stars, if that’s really what he wanted. Lee Haechan has never been known to be one gifted with patience, but when it came down to you, he thinks he’s been rather good with the whole waiting for you — even if it took you long to finally give in, and even if he made it his personal mission to get on your nerves. But what was he supposed to you? Getting on your nerves was the only guarantee he had that you would never forget him, his face, his voice, or his antics. He thinks he’s done a pretty good job at that.

He lets your now warm hand go, and he grabs your chin. His touch is delicate on your face, almost as if he’s fearing to touch you, but you don’t move. Right this moment, this is the most excitement you’ve felt in weeks, a month even — and you indulge into his touch. You need this moment to ground you, to bring you back from the uncertainties and the dark pits where your thoughts have taken you lately. 

So when he gets closer to you, tentatively inching closer to you, you don’t pull back. His cologne fills your senses when he gets closer to you, inebriating you, making you totally ignore the alarm going off in your head. You’re about to kiss Lee Haechan. 

“Stop me if this isn’t something you want,” he instructs, his voice laced with reassurance, warmth, still giving you full control of the situation. He’s dying to kiss you, but if you’d rather insult him and go back to your usual back and forth banter, that’s fine for him still.

But you don’t oppose, you don’t turn him down, you don’t stop him when his thumb caresses under your bottom lip, just enough to feel a bit more of you without inching in closer to you, without going directly for your tempting lips.

And seeing as you grab his wrist, as if you hold onto it to ground you and brace you for what’s to come, Haechan doesn’t hold back anymore. 

His lips touch your slowly, sweetly, taking his sweet time savouring this moment that he wasn’t sure was ever going to happen. Because as much as Haechan has always stroked his own ego about getting you one way or another, sometimes doubts flooded his brain as well, fogging his judgement and leading to a jealousy that he’s never experienced before — not when he dated, not when he wanted something — or someone, badly. 

But then again, Haechan has never wanted to be with someone as badly as he wanted to be with you — all unattainable and carrying yourself majestically like no man was ever good enough for you, not even him, and then you ended up dating someone that Haechan thought could have been the last man on earth before he got with a woman. And irony made it so that that man got with you.

Irony was crude, the facts laid in front of him were like a cold slap against his face, and it only fuelled his desire to break you even more. 

Lee Haechan finally feels like he has it all — now that you’re reciprocating his kiss with ardour, now that you’re still holding onto his wrist for comfort, now that your lip balm is smeared against his own lips. And it is exactly like he imagined it would be.

You place your other hand on his chest, pushing him away from you slightly, “Stop,” you mumble trying to catch your breath, and he pulls back to search your gaze. It’s not remorseful, it’s not bashful either, but you still take a few moments to search his eyes before making a decision that could alter the way your life is going to be from now on. 

But you’re willing to take the risk, especially after getting a taste of what the man in front of you is promising you, after getting a taste of the thrill that crosses all throughout your body — a feeling that you never realised was missing from your life, until now.

Haechan looks at you concerned, or so you think, “Lets just go somewhere else,” You whisper to him, looking around yourself hoping no one else has caught up on the activities going on in the last row of seats while the film is loud and rolling. 

Haechan can’t believe your words, but he doesn’t take more than a few seconds before he stands to his feet. He doesn’t want to waste time, he doesn’t want you to overthink this.

Is this right on his part — to knowingly mess with someone’s feelings? No, it totally isn’t. But Sungchan’s a big boy, and he’ll learn to cope. Or at least that’s what Haechan hopes.

He hopes your mind won’t travel back to your boyfriend, that you won’t care about him when Haechan is the one here with you. Haechan wants to be selfish until the end, and he really wants you. He’s ready to put his reputation on the line if that means he’s finally getting you to be his — or with him.

Haechan can’t keep his hands away from you, not as you make your way out of the screen room, not as you make your way out, stepping onto the carpeted hallways of the theatre. 

You turn around to look at him as he follows your steps, and Haechan doesn’t waste any more time. He grabs both sides of your face and brings you closer to him, lips crashing against yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. You struggle to keep up with his rhythm, and you think he’s literally trying to devour your lips, wet tongue playing with your bottom lip in a nasty and hot game of dominance. 

But you don’t mind the messiness, you don’t mind the desperation — you’re rather glad that it’s happening this way, because you never thought you’d be able to rile someone up this way, specifically him out of all people. 

You catch up to his rhythm when your lips finally grant him access, and he gets lost in the heat of the moment while sucking slightly on your wet muscle, getting a small whimper out of you that has the corner of his mouth raise with that cocky satisfaction that you’ve always wanted to wipe off his face.

Your insides tingle with anticipation, and you squeeze your thighs, hoping to get at least a bit of relief in the heat of the moment. And being the smug and annoying man he always is, Haechan notices immediately. Notices the shift of weight from one leg onto the other, notices the way you’re starting to reciprocate his desperation. 

He grunts the moment his lips have to leave yours, and his hands finally let your face go, “My place or yours?” He rasps, and the sound of his voice sends another wave of tingles straight between your thighs.

You bite your lip, looking up at him. Your place or his? You shake your head, thinking of all the indiscreet people living in your hall, and that’s the last thing you want right now — to be seen hand in hand with another man, who also happens to be famous around campus, while your own boyfriend is still slaving himself to the presidency tasks he has to put up with. Not to mention that he’s quite popular himself. 

And the prospect of not going to either one of your places sounds so much better to you right now, especially with how impatient you’re feeling — and you’re sure Haechan feels the same, judging by the look in his eyes, only that he’s letting you decide whatever works best for you right now.

You look around yourself, trying to get inspiration from literally anything that might remind you of a place you could go to. And then Haechan sees a sneaky smile spreading across your face as you look somewhere behind his figure, at the end of the hallway.

Lounging your arms around his figure, hands reaching for his nape where your fingers touch the strands of hair, you bring him towards yourself, catching his lips in a feverish kiss that you initiate this time, and you drag him after yourself.

Neither one of you deepens the kiss, and he follows your lead like a lost puppy that doesn’t know better. He grunts against your lips, feeling your fingers still playing with his hair, and this time you’re the one smiling into the kiss.

Walking backwards and dragging him after yourself, your back touches a door, and you push it open, snatching Haechan by the collar of his leather jacket.

Haechan huffs the moment you lock the door after him, finally letting your lips go, and he looks around himself to gather his bearings. 

He turns around to throw you a bewildered look, he’d have never picked you to be into public sex. 

“Never had sex into a public restroom before,” You tell him, as if you could actually read his mind.

He cocks an eyebrow, “I guess there’s always a beginning, right?” He rasps, picking a strand of hair to fix behind your ear, right before he touches the velvety skin of your face, fingers gentle against the plush of your cheeks as they travel down to your neck, “Are you sure about this, baby?” He asks, because he doesn’t care if things are at stake once you two seal the deal, but he still wants you to be sure of this.

And when you nod, there’s nothing holding Haechan back. With your back still against the door, he picks you up into his arms, and places you on top of the sturdy sink just a few inches away from the two of you.

His hips sway to make room between your thighs, and his lips find yours like that’s routine for him, like it’s just so normal to be able to get to kiss you even if he had his eyes closed. 

Lee Haechan feels insane. Like a mighty power has just sent him a sign, a blessing, like he’s able to kiss and cherish and feed off the sun itself. Your mini skirt moves up your thighs, and his fingers touch you, your cold skin, travelling under the hem of the skirt to push it out of his way.

He finally lets your lips go, and your panting fills the room. The anticipation is making your insides melt, and you don’t think you’ll be able to wait much longer. But luckily for you, Haechan seems to be just as impatient as you are, and his mouth travels to your neck, kissing the pulse line down to your collarbones.

“No marks, please,” you whimper when you feel his teeth grazing the frail skin of your neck. Him marking you is the last thing either one of you needs right now. 

And surprisingly enough, Haechan actually listens to your plea, making sure he comes right up to catch your lips once again — because if he can’t bite and mark you, he still needs to keep his mouth busy someway. 

Haechan’s fingers slide up your thigh, making their way to your panties, and he’s actually surprised at how soaked they are once his digits make contact with the drenched fabric covering your core.

Do you want this just as much as he does? He wonders. Apparently so, he concludes once one of his finger slides under the front of the panties in order to set them to the side, and it glides inside of your wet core with ease.

Both of you moan at the same time — you because of the slight relief his hand is bringing you, and him because he’s literally getting drunk on you. You’re here, basically at his mercy, trembling for him to touch you, and there’s nothing that can impede him not to do as you wish. 

You’re wet, your core is burning, and Haechan slides a second finger inside of you, making you moan into his mouth once again. His lips try to muffle your panting and noises you make, because you need to keep quiet if you don’t want to get caught, and even if Haechan would love to hear you scream his name, he knows neither of you can afford being caught having sex in a public restroom. 

Your hand travels in between you bodies, tentatively touching his crotch — and you’re not surprised to feel him hard as a rock under the palm of your hand. A little pressure, and the friction you apply against his groin has him sucking air through his teeth, tilting his head back and biting on his lip as to not moan your name loud enough for the entire floor to hear. 

“Need you,” he mumbles as he removes his fingers from your underwear and slaps your hand away.

He sees your eyes sparkling with anticipation, and if he weren’t a fucking frenzied loser whose dick throbs in his pants with every little pant and whimper you let past your lips, he’d have taken his sweet time teasing you.

But he’s just as eager for this as you are, if not more. He’s sure the sparkle in your eyes can’t even compare to the pathetic look on his face, yearning to finally have you, and maybe show you that he’s not as bad as you have always thought of him.

You hold onto the sink as you wait for him to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, and just the pure sight of how heavy he looks and the colour of his glistening tip has your mouth watering. But you have to gulp it down, because you’re far too turned on right now, and indulging into sucking Haechan off isn’t really an option right now. Not with how you feel, and you know it’s out of the question for him as well, judging by the look he’s giving you when you bring your gaze back up to meet his.

You nod, biting your lip with anticipation. He slides the tip of his cock up and down your glistening slit a few times before lining himself up to your entrance. The moment he slides inside of you, a sigh leaves the two of you at the same time, and Haechan patiently waits for you to adjust to the stretch.

The sting of the stretch feels deliciously satisfying, and your nails dig into his covered biceps for comfort. You feel so full, and the sensation has you inebriated, waiting for Haechan to properly move inside of you.

And when he actually starts moving, giving both of you the friction you need, his lips clash on top of yours once again, trying to eat up all the sounds you’re unable to keep to yourself. The squelching of your pussy already echoes throughout the restroom, and Haechan can’t risk it and have anyone hear the sinful sound you’re making — albeit you’re really trying your best to keep it down.

Haechan is holding onto you like his life depends on it, his hand keeping your body close to him as he pounds into you with a steady rhythm, and you fear the print of his hand will be left behind on your skin as a souvenir of the indiscreet activity involving you two.

But it feels to ecstatic, too good to care. Your blood feels like it’s boiling with the rush of adrenaline you’re feeling right now, your cheeks are dusted with a tinge of red tint, and one look at Haechan’s face lets you know he’s trying his best to keep it down as well. Biting his lip like he’s about to rip it off, with eyebrows furrowed — it’s a clear sign that even if he’s keeping it down, it does’t mean that he’s feeling less good, and the thought is driving you insane.

If the shushed grunts, the panting and huffing are already enough of an indicator of how good he’s feeling, but clearly kept down due to the location you’re in right now, just the mere thought of what he’d sound like if there was nothing restricting him makes your walls throb around him.

His head falls in the crook of your neck, and your perfume inebriates him even more, “You have no idea for how long I’ve wanted you,” he rasps against your neck, lips leaving a trail of kisses up to your lips, and it feels like the words of affirmation he’s leet past his lips are what’s getting you to reach your climax. 

“I’m so close,” you cry, but Haechan already knew. You feel so tight around him and he’ll be damned if you leave this restroom without being the first to climax, “Haechan I-”

“That’s it,” he grunts, pelvis hitting the plush of your inner thighs as he starts making fast, erratic movements, and you recognise he’s close too, “Right there, baby,” 

And the pet name is enough to make the buildup pressure in your pelvis finally snap, with your thighs trembling around Haechan’s waist as he starts kissing your neck to help you ride your orgasm properly until the end. Every little spot he kisses becomes sensitive under the pressure of his flaming lips, moist pecks left behind in a trail up to your ear, and then the overstimulation becomes too much — for both of you.

The pulsing of your walls around his dick are becoming too much for Haechan to bear, and you hear a grunt and what you think is a muffled version of your name said against your shoulder, as you milk him for all his worth.

He stays inside of you a bit longer, panting against your neck as he tries to gather his bearings, and you take a sharp breath as you feel suddenly so empty once he pulls out of you. 

He gives you a kiss before he takes a few steps back and starts arranging his clothes, pulling his pants and jeans back up like before.

You jump off the sink, and you’re glad your wobbly feet did not fail you, because they certainly feel like jelly right now, especially after experiencing one of the most intense orgasms ever. You arrange your panties as they were before Haechan set them to the side, and you turn around to fix your makeup in the mirror.

“Let me give you a ride home,” he proposes, but it comes out more as a question. You look at his reflection in the mirror as you get rid of the faintest smudges of mascara under your eyes, and you see him looking right back at you in the mirror, while buckling his belt and arranging the clothes around his waist.

Your gaze falls on his waist, and you hate to admit that you were too busy bickering with this man to notice that he’s incredibly gorgeous and with a perfect body. Or maybe you’ve always known, and that’s what made you dislike him, plus the arrogance and talking back that added to the whole thing.

Stupid, stupid girl, you think to yourself as you look him in the eyes as he’s standing behind you, waiting for your answer.

You turn around, giving him a small smile as you take a few steps towards him, “I think I’ll just walk,” you tell him, and God knows you need it right now, “I’ll see you around, Haechan,” you get on the tip of your feet to reach for his lips, only giving him the shadow of a peck, with your lips barely touching.

And then you walk out the restroom, leaving him behind, but you can hear an incredulous huff escape him right before you close the door shut behind you.

What happened tonight doesn’t really hit you until you’re into the elevator of your student hall. After the cool air you endured on your walk home, the warmth of the elevator — and the typical smell of the student hall’s hallways that you associate with the smell of home — is making you come to your senses.

You cheated on Sungchan. You actually did it, and thinking about it right now makes you realise you didn’t think twice before doing it. You cheated on your boyfriend, so why do you feel so fulfilled right now?

But it doesn’t last long, because the moment you open the door to your room, you immediately notice the lights on. Sungchan jumps off your bed to come straight to the door, pushing it closed as he drags you inside to take a good look at you. You know he got in by using your spare key, like he always does.

“Oh my god, Y/n, where have you been?” You can see he’s worried, and you know him well enough to know there are a few things weighting on his mind right now, “I’m so sorry for earlier, I should have put on a reminder and then when I looked at my phone I remembered date night,” he squeezed your arms, and you feel the emotions weighting in his voice, “I came to the theatre but it was too late into the screening and the staff didn’t let me in so I came here to wait for you,”

You blink a few times, looking up at him and his panicked state, and you place your hands on his chest, “Why are you so worried?” You ask him, and you see him inhaling through his nose like he’s trying to calm himself down from having a panic attack.

“You didn’t answer your phone so I was very worried, I guess you finally put it on dnd,” he hints at all the times your phone rang with notifications, waking him up when you two spent the night at either one’s place, and he literally begged you to put it on dnd so as not to wake him up, “I feel so bad for missing date night and being away all the time, I’m so, so sorry Y/n,” he breathes out, and a lump forms in your throat.

He crouches down, engulfing you in a hug and actually picking you off the ground, squeezing you into his arms as he hugs you, “Did you have fun watching Bridget Jones?” He asks, voice muffled into your shoulder.

Guilt starts pooling in the pit of your stomach, and you feel like you’re about to hurl when the events of tonight replay into your head. You cheated on Sungchan. 

“Yes,” you gulp, trying to get rid of the lump, “I had a lot of fun,”

And the worst thing is, that besides the guilt you feel about cheating on your boyfriend, you actually had a lot of fun, indeed.

A few days ago, you made a few grave mistakes.

Mistake number one, you cheated on your boyfriend. Event that literally induces the worst case of guilt and anxiety you’ve ever experienced in your life.

Then, there’s mistake number two, which basically revolves around who you cheated with. Because he’s been the worst thing that has ever happened to you — but also the best. 

Moving on, mistake number three, the fact that you’ve found yourself thinking about Haechan in all the ways you really shouldn’t be thinking of right now, not when there’s a whole other man sending you ‘I love you’ texts every night before bed. 

And finally. Mistake number four, setting your phone on dnd. Because you reflected on this, and the fact that Sungchan couldn’t reach you and no notifications made it onto the screen of your phone the whole night, might have added to the out of character behaviour you have shown a few nights ago. Because you’re sure that seeing his name would have grounded you somehow, would have made you remember that you’re into a committed relationship.

The only problem? You started doubting yourself and all the bullshit you tried selling yourself about the whole remembering your boyfriend, when you realised you replaced the thought of him with actually thinking about Haechan. 

Right after you arrived back from the theatre, right after your boyfriend calmed down and decided to spend the night and sleep over, right after you heard his breathing even out after falling asleep — you fell victim to Lee Haechan once again. You tossed and turned in bed while thinking about him, about his lips on yours, about his lips on your skin, the impatient fingers that caressed your thighs and core, the whining and grunting and whispering, the way he made you feel. It all drove you insane. 

For days and nights, and it’s like this man has casted a spell on you, because you think about him permanently. And it only makes you feel frustrated and guilty, especially because you’re in a committed relationship. 

But you came to the conclusion that you need to talk to him, sort things out, and try to get him to understand that no one has to ever know about the indiscreet actions that took place a few nights ago.

You learned at what hours the football practice takes place, and you waited for everyone to leave, thus granting you the opportunity to be left alone with their captain. 

Guilt starts pooling in the pit of your stomach once again, when you remember that you lied to Sungchan once again, just a bit earlier — telling him your afternoon classes were postponed and that you’d be home studying. Technically, you didn’t really lie, because your classes have been postponed and he could check if he really wanted to — although you know Sungchan is not that kind of person. But worst thing of all is the fact that you knew he’d be away until late at night and he won’t be even thinking about you today, or crashing over to your place anytime soon either, given the fact that he is back to being busy. His worrying and guilt from that night have done absolutely nothing to change that aspect of your relationship, for he was back to being busy every day, and you were back to feeling alone and neglected. 

You finally straighten your back, sitting up in your seat when you notice Haechan’s team leaving the locker room. You count them, noticing that Haechan is not walking along with them, so you move as discreetly as possible towards the locker room, light steps not making one sound as you move closer to the door, and only one other voice can be heard on its other side — a light melodic humming.

You slowly push the door open, peaking inside to see an empty room, and you lock the door behind you — not risking being caught in the locker room with the captain of the football team by anyone, not even by his bobblehead team players.

You follow the humming, and you recognise the timbre of his voice, even if it takes you aback. You never picked singing to be another addition to Haechan’s long list of skills, and you hate that he’s good at literally everything, even the weirdest or most unimaginable things, you could find out one day that he’s a master at those as well. 

The room smells like sweat and old leather, and the humid air coming from the showers in the other room tickles your nose.

You can’t help but sneeze, and Haechan flinches in front of his locker, turning around to look at you like a deer in highlights. He’s freshly out of the shower, with a towel hanging low on his hips — too low, so dangerously low that it has you gulping, making you avert your gaze as soon as possible before all the thoughts you’ve had lately come back to you right now.

His face lights up after seeing you standing in the middle of the room, “Ah yes,” he sighs dreamily, “They always come back for more,”

“Don’t compare me to one of your skanks,” You roll your eyes, scoffing after hearing his words, “We need to talk,”

He gives you a smile, dragging his shower flip flops as he moves around the room, getting closer to where you’re standing. His towel is still hanging dangerously low on his hips, droplets of water still on his skin, sliding down his torso. 

He snaps his fingers in front of your nose, “Then maybe you should stop eyeing me, and start talking,” he retorts, placing his hands on his hips, waiting for you to snap out of your reverie.

“What?” You gulp, looking at him confused, too busy looking at the tanned skin of his torso to remember what you were saying.

“You said we need to talk. What I have to say might anger you, so you should go first,” he explains, and what he’s implying is unsettling to you. 

“What happened the other day can’t happen again,” you start, not willing to waste time, especially because Haechan seems to be back to his old ways — doing whatever he can to disturb your peace of mind.

“The other day?” He repeats, looking at you confused, “What happened the other day? I think you’ll have to remind me,” he shrugs, pouting with fake innocence.

“Can you stop acting this way for just one minute? This is serious!” You push at his chest, yet he doesn’t flinch. His skin is still wet and so incredibly smooth to the touch, and your hands are begging for you to keep them on his chest — maybe even slide down on his torso. You shake your head slightly, trying to shake the thoughts away and snatching your hands away form his figure, “This has to remain between the two of us, and it won’t happen again,”

“It won’t?” He pouts, and starts inching dangerously closer to you.

You hate his mocking, patronising tone, but you don’t have it in you to fight back, not when you can literally smell the scent of his shower gel on his skin.

He’s getting so dangerously close to you, and you try stepping back. His steps are slow, calculated, a small smirk of victory plastered on his face when your back touches one of the lockers, and he brings one arm up, placing the palm of his hand on the locker behind you, nearly caging you.

And you’re once again at his mercy.

“Oh, poor baby,” He pouts once again, tone light and sarcastic like he knows you’re about to be putty in his hands, “Is this about your boyfriend?” He asks, not dropping the mockery in his tone. His index travels on your skin, and you swear you feel goosebumps forming all the way down your back, “Do you feel sorry for him? After I fucked you in the restroom the other night?”

Your cheeks grow hot after hearing his words, and he notices them immediately, pinching your left cheek lightly with his fingers. 

“Answer me baby,” He rasps, and you hate the way his voice is making your insides tingle once again, “Is this about your boyfriend?”

“No,” you lie, but he doesn’t buy it — you know this by the way he lets a huff of laughter escape past his lips, and he looks down at you as if he’s deciding wether to let it go or just go on with his act. 

He wets his lips, “Are you sure baby, that this isn’t about him? That you don’t actually care about him?” 

You shake your head, finally raising your gaze to properly look into his eyes, “That’s precisely the point!” You retort, shaking your head at him, like he’s stupid and he just can’t understand your words — but he does, he understands too well, and he can’t let it happen, “I care about him and want to protect him!”

“Oh,” He scoffs, mocking you, “Is that right?” He raises his brows, not buying a single word that you’re so adamant to make him believe, “You cared about him when you were moaning my name? Or when you let me cum inside you?” He mocks you, an incredulous sigh leaving him as he look down at you.

Your body feels on fire — out of shame, but also because you know he’s right. But you can’t let him win, you can’t let him know that you agree with every single word he’s saying. The truth stings, and the truth is that you blatantly cheated on Sungchan with someone you never even thought you had it in you to stand.

“He can’t know,” Your voice is small, and you look down to his V line just to escape his piercing and mocking gaze. Your cheeks are on fire as you feel like you’ve been caught red handed and put to shame.

“Oh, poor baby,” He pouts again, his tone babying you around. He grabs your chin between his fingers, slowly pushing it upwards so he can take a good look at your eyes, and you don’t fight it, “He doesn’t have to know,” He concludes, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb.

His words feel heavy with implications that you’re not willing to desiccate right now, not when his gaze is  this intense. Your breath catches in your throat and you feel so small under his gaze, but you honestly can’t believe the amount of feelings that come crashing onto you violently — too hard to navigate right now when you feel like he’s a predator waiting to take a bite out of you. 

Haechan doesn’t let go of you, and you don’t make a move to get away from him. You genuinely feel trapped — trapped between his body and the way out of the locker room, and trapped between your boyfriend and the man in front of you, who’s been on your mind more than you’d like to admit.

Why is it so hard for you to push him away and leave? It’s like his gaze and allure is keeping you here, glued to the lockers and doomed to be impossibly close to his half naked body. Your eyes fly over to his defined bicep, that he’s not even flexing to show off, yet the outline of his muscles makes your stomach flutter. 

“Eyes up here, baby,” He commands, and your eyes follow his instructions as soon as the words leave his mouth. He crouches down a little, lips close to your ear, “What would he do if he knew about us?” His whispering gives you goosebumps, and you gulp as discreetly as possible, “Would he come for me? Would he cry?” He lets a deep giggle escape him, and warm breath fans down on the skin of your neck as he moves his mouth just below your ear.

“You wanna protect him, or us? Hmm?” He goes on, rasping down your neck as his nose nuzzles your pulse line, “Did you feel good the other night, baby?” 

You inhale deeply when you feel his free hand playing with the hem of your shirt. His fingers travel under your shirt, and he caresses your abdomen from your navel all the way to the plush of your sides, that he squeezes gently as a warning for you to answer to him, and you can’t find the words to answer him, instead just nodding slightly. 

He hums once again after feeling your almost imperceptible nodding, and he starts playing with the button of your jeans. 

“I can give you so much more baby, if you’d allow me,” He picks at your jeans, fingers lingering for far too long on your skin. His digits leave you burning, and your insides start tingling once again with anticipation, “Only between us,”

He doesn’t need to tell you anything else, because the way you grab his hand so gently, as if you’re doing it to try and stop him but he knows you’re only holding onto him because you need him just as much as he needs you. Just the thought of him corrupting you into giving in to your deepest desires and overlooking all the lies you just told him, is making his cock twitch with excitement.

He grabs your hips, moving his fingers under the waistband of your jeans, trying to get to touch as much skin as possible. Haechan shows his affection through actions, gestures, touches, and to actually get to touch your soft and velvety skin makes it hard for him to refrain from letting a whimper escape past his lips.

He drags you after himself, moving you around like you’re putty in his hands, fingers still massaging your waist. He drags you to the nearest seating spot in the room, a medical bed in the corner and the mere sight of it has your skin burning with anticipation. Your oversized shirt feels too tight on you all of a sudden, like it’s burning your skin, like it’s suffocating you. 

“Will you allow me, baby?” He rasps, voice raw and low, that sends waves of excitement straight in between your thighs. 

You nod immediately, not sparing it much thought. Your thinking process needs to be studied, you think, because how has your attempt to shut Haechan up about your indiscretions turned up to have him with a hard on on him that has you gulping, and you feeling helpless as you get enticed to actually do anything for the man in front of you? Like he has some sort of power over your mind and body.

Haechan doesn’t need to be told — or shown — twice, pushing your jeans down your hips, letting them fall to the ground before he helps you out of them. 

“Take this off,” He commands, slightly pulling at your shirt, and you discard of it as instructed. He doesn’t waste any time, immediately handling you around, grabbing you by the waist to place you on top of the medical bed. 

He looks at you briefly. Your pupils are blown out with anticipation, cheeks burning even before he’s even started his ministrations on you. He wishes he could kiss the pout on your lips away, help you discard all thoughts and worries, and then it hits him — he doesn’t have to wish for it, because you’re almost naked in front of him and he can do whatever he wants.

So he kisses you, he catches your lips in a sweet, slow and anticipatory kiss that promises you you’ll be taken care of. That’s all he ever wanted, and he’s so glad you’re finally here, allowing him to do all this — agreeing to let him past your barriers even if you tried your best to stand true to your supposed principles. Yet here you are, barely covered in front of him, ready to actually give yourself to him once again. 

Haechan looks at you once again, right before he bends down to give you small kisses all across your neck — his favourite part on you, due to your intoxicating scent, — and your collarbones. His fingers start playing with the strap of your bra, finally pushing it down, taking the garment fully off you to leave you in all your glory, and finally and fully at his mercy.

“Lay down,” his tone is full of authority, and you don’t think twice before following his commands, laying your almost bare self on the bed.

Haechan looks at you from head to toe, laying so prettily for him to finally touch you. Your blown out pupils are adorable, and it’s so hard for him not to make a comment about it. Yet he refrains, because he sees you’re wearing a pretty matching set, and he knows what this means.

You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can’t lie to him. Not when the signs are laying bare in front of him, not with the matching set, the hard nipples poking through the lace of your pretty bra, and the goosebumps covering your skin.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he rasps, getting on top of the bed with you, settling at the foot of the bed right in between your open thighs. He bends over your figure, leaving open kisses over the waistband of your panties, “Such a good girl for me,” He rasps, and the pet name has you whimpering, hips bucking with anticipation, and a devious smile appears on his face, “So impatient,” He tsks, placing the palm of his hand on your lower abdomen, a clear sign to make you relax back down. 

His fingers slide under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them somewhere behind himself, right before he comes up to look at you in all your glory.

“Such a pretty baby,” he comments more to himself, but you hear him nonetheless, and his fingers tentatively move up and down your slit, between your folds, down to your entrance and then up to your clit.

The moment his digits find your bundle of nerves your hips buck up once again, and you gasp when he takes his hand away, suddenly too disappointed not feeling his touch anymore. 

He gets comfortable at the foot of the bed, laying on his stomach, and he doesn’t waste time before his face settles between your spread thighs. Breath fanning hot on your glistening core, you feel like you might be going insane when you see him only looking at you, like he’s savouring every bit of the torture he’s subjecting you to. Is this his punishment for you? For coming by today and bringing up what happened between the two of you, so he makes sure you can’t run away and forget about him? It sure seems like that’s exactly what he’s doing, and you feel strangely aroused by it. 

And like he knows what’s going on inside your mind, he starts leaving open mouth kisses on your inner thighs, like he’s asking you to be patient just a bit longer, but also testing your limits. The trail of kisses travel across your thighs, and you bring your hands up to your hair, slightly pulling at it out of exasperation.

And that’s exactly when you least expect it, that’s when Haechan’s mouth finds your core, plump lips settling directly around your clit, latching onto it before his tongue twirls around it.

“Fuck, Haechan,” you moan his name, and slam your hands on the bed to your sides, fingers fast with grabbing the edges of the mattress and holding onto it like that’s going to prevent you from making any more noises and losing your sanity.

Haechan chuckles, bringing a hand to push your leg upward, making space for him to have you at his mercy. His tongue swirls, his lips slurp, and his nose bumps your clit with every movement his tongue makes to your entrance, teasing it. 

“Keep it down baby, if you don’t wanna get caught,” he grunts, words muffled with his mouth still latched onto your core, and the vibrations are almost too much for your aroused self. 

He lays on one elbow, head resting on the plush of your inner thigh, and he brings your free hand down, placing it on top of his head. Your fingers move out of instinct, taking his still damp fringe away from his tanned forehead, one of your favourite features of his, now in all his glory as he looks up at you with dark eyes, mouth still working around your clit.

He brings a hand up, and slides two fingers inside if you. You’re aroused and dripping, enough for him to slide in and out of you easily — way too easily. The stretch feels good, but it’s almost not enough, and he scissors his fingers inside of you, with his tongue working relentlessly around your clit, and the sensation and his unpausing ministrations make that specific pressure build up faster than you’d have ever expected to happen.

He moans when your fingers scratch his scalp, as you move his hair away from his eyes, and his fingers slide in and out of you at a faster pace.

He whimpers at the feeling, hips rutting onto the harsh fabric of the towel, bringing his hard on a bit of relief. “Pull my hair,” He pleads, and it doesn’t take you more than two seconds to follow his instructions. Haechan’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he lets a moan escape him, so loudly that it echoes throughout the entire emptiness of the locker room, and you hope no one’s outside to hear the lewd noises both of you are making. 

But the pleasure feels like it’s just too much, and you forget about any last bit of shame you might feel if there was anyone outside hearing you. Your insides are burning, and the view between your legs does nothing but build up the pressure in your lower stomach an unbearable amount.

“Fuck, Haechan I’m- I’m so close,” but he does nothing but hum against your almost throbbing clit, and you pull his hair, trying to unglue his head from between your thighs, “I don’t wanna cum like this,” 

And that’s enough for Haechan to stop, unlatching his lips away from your clit and taking his fingers out of you. He was going to have you melting on his tongue, but he’s willing to do anything for his baby — anything his baby wants. And if you need to have him fucking you through your orgasm, who is he to deny it to you?

You look at him, at how his chin is glistening with your arousal yet he doesn’t seem to care, and frankly neither do you. He jumps right up on his knees, and gets rid of his towel from around his waist, and the sight of his V line leading right down to his perfect, girthy cock is making your walls clench around nothing.

He moves his cock up and down your slit, but he doesn’t move forward. He bends down, peppering kisses across your abdomen all the way up to your breasts, and his tongue traces your chest, the curve of your breasts as his hands squeeze them, keeping them together for him to nuzzle into them, plump lips soon latching onto your nipples like he’s a dying man and that’s the last thing he’ll ever do. 

You cuss under your breath, and you move your hips around, lining his cock to your entrance — and you hope he gets the message. And he does, but being the ever so insufferable being, he still chooses to ignore you. The corners of his mouth curl up into a cocky smirk, and the fact that it’s arousing you even more doesn’t help.

Finally coming up to your level to catch your lips with his, he kisses you. He’s wanted to do it ever since you laid down on this bed, ever since you bit your lips so much in order not to let out all the sounds he was trying to get out of you — making them plump and calling for him. You’re so sweet, and he can’t get enough of you.

He bites down on your bottom lip, playfully, and breaks the kiss, “Tell me what you want,”

“You,” Your reply is curt, cut to the chase. You’re willing to scream it for him if it meant he’d stop playing around and would just fuck you already. 

“Who?” He raises one brow, looking down at you. But he can’t resist the way you look, and the realisation that he’s once again about to fuck you hits him, so he bends down to give you another kiss. 

It isn’t desperate, but it doesn’t make it less hungry. He lets you decide the pace of it, and the moment you feel you’re in control of the whole situation, you wrap your legs around his waist. You suck on his tongue, gently biting the tip an making his whimper.

He breaks the kiss, throwing you a smirk, “Are you sure you want me? I thought this couldn’t happen again,”

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire once again, and he takes mercy on you this once, finally choosing to both end your suffering and stop you from trying to come up with a smart reply to what he just said. He pushes into you, and you grab him, latching onto his biceps. 

Gasps of relief escape both of you, because to put it frankly, Haechan felt like he was going insane just as much as you. The warmth of your pussy welcomes him, while his girth stretches you deliciously, and Haechan’s hips freeze as he bottoms out into you, allowing you to adjust to him. It take him all the self control he can muster not to move right now, and the way your walls are throbbing around him it’s making him almost ready to spill into you. 

He kisses your neck, trying to make you relax, he soothes your waist, caressing your middle up to your breast. His lips travel all the way to your jaw, finally reaching your lips, and he focuses on the softness of them, the rhythm you pick up as they sync with his, the way your hands grab each side of his face, bringing him closer — as if that was physically possible. 

And then Haechan feels you relaxing a bit around him, and his hips starts moving slightly. The friction feels too good, and he’s filling you fully, making you feel so drunk on him and everything he has to offer. 

“Fuck, baby,” A low grunt escapes him, and he pushes up and away from you, moving your legs around so he can get to a new angle, “You feel so good,” 

He tilts his head, relishing into the feeling of your warmth and wetness welcoming and taking him so well. You’re so eager for him, so ready to take him all. And the picture painted in front of you makes your walls clench around him. The way he’s holding your legs apart, head tilted on his back — neck exposed and asking for you to mark his tanned skin — his entire body that looks like the best artist has spent the longest time meticulously sculpting him to make him perfect. 

You see droplets of sweat on his chest, and you claw at his navel in a pathetic attempt to ground yourself. He’s moving inside of you with ease, setting a delicious pace that makes your insides burn and the pressure inside your lower tummy building up once again, this time at an alarming pace.

It feels insane when you think that Haechan turns you on to this extent, but one more look at the man moving in and out of you right now makes it more believable, understandable.  

“You want to protect him, huh?” He growls, moving one hand to your stomach to keep you under his control, “I’m the only one you need,” 

It feels like a threat, the echo of his grunting repeating into your head even through all the inevitable noises the both of you let out. A threat that no man is ever going to be enough for you ever again, a threat that no one will do it like he does. 

And the worst part of all is that you actually believe his words right now.

“Oh my- Fuck, Haech-” You don’t have the time to finish, interrupted by the climax hitting you out of nowhere, and he comes down once again, caging you between his arms as he kisses you, trying his best to muffle the sinful sounds you’re making.

“I know, baby,” He tries to reassure you once your legs start trembling from all the overstimulation, and his own climax hits him when your legs wrap around his waist tightly, caging him.

He falls on top of you, mouth latching onto your nipple once again just so that he can keep it busy somehow, otherwise he knows he could wake the dead with how obnoxious his sounds can get.

And when he finally lets go, he relaxes on top of you, staying close to your chest, panting down on your breasts as he tries to catch his breath. 

You bring your hands up out of instinct, fingers playing with his hair in order to soothe him, and you swear you can nearly hear him purr as he relaxes under your touch, cheek glued to your hot skin.

You gulp, thoughts once again flooding your mind.

This can’t happen again. 

It happened again. 

And again, and again. And again. You lost count of how many times it kept happening.

Your little arrangement with Haechan came up to last for a few months, all the way through autumn, up to nearing Christmas. Sneaking around, Haechan spent the nights with you more than you’d like to admit. Either at your dorms or his apartment, Haechan knew how to take care of you, spending every other night together like it was routine already, like he was your boyfriend, the one meant to sleep on your pillows and use your expensive shampoo, like he was the one meant to get to kiss you every time he felt like doing it, like he was the only one meant to witness you at your most intimate and vulnerable state.

Haechan’s greed knows no bounds, he wants to have it all with you, even if it means the two of you have to hide for a while. Haechan wants it all — the kisses, the cuddles, the moans, the holding of hands, the intimacy. He wants it all with you, and the fact that he knows you’re not committed to him like he is to you literally kills him.

He doesn’t mention it anymore, he just lives in the moment, but one thing is for sure — he doesn’t let you get away from him. When your boyfriend is busy with tasks, which means about five nights a week, Haechan would be there with you. When your boyfriend is too tired to be spending time with you, Haechan’s there for you. Sure, he can’t take you out, he can’t hold your hand, he can’t kiss in you in public whenever he feels like it, but he can do it in the privacy of your dorm that has almost become his space too, that has almost started smelling like him too. 

Haechan loves loving you, loves pleasuring you, loves being devoted to you, but he can’t help but wish that things were different, to the point that he started suggesting outing yourselves to everyone — even suggested talking to Sungchan about it.

You always picked a fight with him, telling him he’s insane for even thinking you could do it or even thinking that the two of you could ever be together like that, for the whole world to see. Fights and arguments that hurt him, your words piercing through his chest and ego as if you never actually chose to be actively involved with him, like you never call him even to ask what he’s doing or what he’s eaten for the day. Fights that always end with him leaving you behind, but always coming back to you at some point because he can’t seem to be able to go on without you in his life.

As much as your words sting, and your actions infuriate him, Haechan knows he has developed a real dependency when it comes to you. And he loves it when you don’t seem to mind him being all up into your personal space, into your life. Sure, you seem to be worried about your boyfriend finding out, but Hacehan doesn’t really care. Haechan want to be able to tell the entire world that he’s obsessed with you, that he’d give up his reputation he so carefully worked on just to be with you. The heart wants what it wants, and his heart wants you.

He doesn’t care about Sungchan at all, no remorse, nothing that can make him feel guilty about it. But he sees how guilt gets to you out of nowhere, ruining your night — thoughts flooding your head and making it unbearable for you to live peacefully.

“Maybe you should tell him,” Haechan suggested one night, right after you ended a call with a very exhausted Sungchan who told you he couldn’t see you that night. You already knew that, and that was precisely why you were already spending it with Haechan.

You turned to look at him, “What?” You barked, shaking your head, “Are you insane?”

He shrugged looking down to his bowl of ramyeon, “I’m just saying that it might help you ease your mind,” He slurped his ramyeon like he didn’t just stir the internal conflict going on inside of you.

“What do you mean?” You asked, keeping your voice down, not wanting to cause a scene before he actually explained himself.

“I mean that he’s always so fucking busy that he won’t mind you breaking up with him anyway, or the other way ‘round,” His words felt like a slap to your face, and you set your own bowl of ramyeon aside.

“Are you implying that he doesn’t care about me? Or that I don’t care about him?” Your voice started raising in volume, and Haechan could tell by the crease between your eyebrows that you were about to go ballistic on him.

“Does he care about you? Not even bothering to call you or make some time to be with you,” He spat, tone venomous, but he didn’t stop there, “And you? Do you care about him like you claim you really do? It’s only Wednesday and I already fucked you four times this week,”

You picked your bowl, standing to your feet and walking towards his kitchen, “I’m leaving,” you threw the bowl in his sink, too upset to stay in the same space as him. 

Exactly like he thought you would do, escaping him and his trying to just talk with you, you decided it’s best to leave instead of listening to him.

“Mmhh-mhm,” You heard him humming right before you slammed his door. 

But Haechan really hates seeing you so miserable, and most of all hates when you dismiss him. When will you see that he’s the one for you? When will you see that he has all the answers to your questions? When will you see that he cares about you, and that he actually has feelings for you?

You’re so blind — blinded by the guilt eating at you every single day. You’re scared, having to confront your boyfriend and come clean to him, hurt him, only because you felt neglected a while ago and you fell for somebody else in the meanwhile? Isn’t it such a diabolical thing to do to the one you’re supposedly in a committed relationship with? That’s precisely why you chose to postpone the talk you needed to have with Sungchan a while ago, now long overdue.

But at the same time, while postponing such an important thing, you never declined yourself the pleasures of being with Haechan. 

And your poor boyfriend, bless his heart, he has absolutely no idea what’s going on. You see him so rarely, even when you’re both on campus, and you haven’t been intimate in months — with him being too busy and tired to pay attention to you, and with you being too into whatever you have going on with Haechan. 

The relationship status shifted, you almost felt like Haechan took Sungchan’s place into your life without too much difficulty, and the worst part of all was still not having your boyfriend by your side. Because if you did, you could have dismissed Haechan properly, but you knew Sungchan wasn’t present and certainly the doubts and guilt ate at you every single day of the past few months.

Yet Haechan has always been there to soothe it all, even if he had to wait to be at home in order to take care of you and show you just how much he wants to be in your life. You slowly came to realise that Haechan might be everything you’ll ever want and need into your life, and the thought of it scared you. 

You felt protected, at ease, you felt appreciated, taken care of. But the thought that you might be ruining someone else’s life because of your reckless behaviour eats at your chest like a disease.

You were sure Sungchan was about to find out about your affair with Haechan, during the last game you attended. 

Sungchan’s love for sports was a given, and the so called rivalry between him and Haechan has never stopped him from being present in the bleachers for some games. With you sitting next to him, your insides churning with anxiety at the thought of Sungchan catching on what was going on based on the location and your behaviour alone.

And you felt like the sky fell on you when Haechan looked through the bleachers as he was roaming around the field. He’d never done that, it was so uncharacteristic and it sparked debates among the sea of people watching the game. A new girlfriend, a special someone, a friend — he had to be looking for someone.

And then the idiot pointed at you right before a penalty kick. Your breath stopped seeing him pointing towards where you were sitting — granted that you knew everyone saw the area and not the direct spot you were in, thanks to the distance. And then you felt on the brink of passing out when you saw Sungchan straightening his back, and then his gaze landed on you.

“Y/n…” He started, and your heart nearly stopped. You swear your ears were ringing and your head spinning terribly, “Babe do you think he’s going to aim at my head again?” He sighed, looking at Haechan, “I feel like he’s going to do it,” He kept going, and you would have laughed if it weren’t for your panicked state.

It’s been two weeks since, and everything that happened on that day goes on haunting you. To the point you can’t deal with it anymore, because it’s consuming you in the worst of ways. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat properly, you can’t focus on your tasks and studies, and you definitely can’t be intimate with Haechan.

Well thank God, you’d think that getting laid was the last of your worries, but you still chase the high and the feelings you feel when you are with Haechan, and not being able to climax because of all the stress you are being subjected to is a pretty big deal to you, a question mark that you certainly know the answer to — and it is long overdue.

That’s why you’re right in front of Sungchan’s door, knocking twice instead of using your key he’s given you. You feel like you’re visiting an old friend you love and care for, instead of your boyfriend, and using your key feels absolutely wrong to you.

“Y/n? Babe, what are you doing here?” He asks, opening the door to let you in. 

He is busy as always, and he already told you he’d be calling it a night very early. He’s still studying, books and papers scattered around the wooden floors of his place, and you feel so out of place in his small studio. 

“Is everything alright? I thought we talked on the phone about this but I think we should actually order something to eat?” He rambles, and you know he’s doing it out of excitement that you’re there with him, despite telling you he’s too tired to entertain you tonight. 

“Would you like pad thai or maybe mandu?” He pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose as he thinks of all the things he’d like for you to have, “Or maybe we can have pho? But that’s best if we have it fresh and it’s more lik-,”

“Sungchan I slept with Haechan!” You burst suddenly, closing your eyes at the outburst and word vomiting. He was getting too cheery and too talkative and it didn’t help with the internal and mental turmoil going on inside of you.

Your world stills, and you’re sure his does as well, with the way his excited words are left hanging in the air. Silence settles, and you wish you could tell you feel a bit better after telling the actual words, but it’s really not the case.

“What?” He whispers, squinting his eyes incredulously.

“I slept with Haechan,” You confess once again, this time calmly, but it doesn’t mean that you feel less guilty about it. You look into his eyes, and you see the sparkle fading.

He inhales sharply, straightening his back, “How many times? One?” He tries, exhaling when you don’t give an answer, not even a nod or a shake of your head, “Two?” He touches his stomach, and you know his very anxious self feels like throwing up right now.

He might just throw up on you right now. You know you deserve it.

You shake your head imperceptibly, lips forming a straight line as your gaze bores into his, “More than twice,” you confirm to him, not having it in you to tell him more details of the ordeal you committed, “I felt so out of place and alone and I don’t even want to find an excuse for it, but it happened and I’m sorry for it,” you have another bad case of word-vomiting when you see him keeping his mouth shut.

He sighs, taking his glasses off and throwing them tiredly on top of the table nearby, “I think you should go now, Y/n,” He mumbles, averting his gaze, and you wish you could talk things through with him, apologise profusely about everything you’ve done to him, but you know that you staying here for longer might hurt him even more.

You nod, walking past him and going straight up to the front door, and you only look back once before exiting. 

Sungchan doesn’t turn around to look at you. 

You were hoping that coming clean to Sungchan was going to help with your anxiety and feelings pooling in the pit of your stomach, but you guessed wrong.

What the fuck is wrong with you? You cry, barely seeing where your steps are taking you. The look in his eyes still haunts you, and that unbearable feeling of being the scum of the earth follows you around like a shadow. 

Will Sungchan be ok? But you also can’t help but wonder if you will be as well, at least at some point. You deserve to know no happiness, because you hurt one of the most amazing guys you’ve ever met, and for what? For sneaking around and playing house with the man you once thought you hated?

Oh, and Haechan. What are you supposed to do now? Go on happily with your life with Haechan after breaking another man's heart? What even were you thinking? What are you supposed to tell Haechan now? That you want to be with him and act as if you didn’t just exit a relationship? 

The thought somehow repulses you, because you know you’ve been selfish up to today — giving into your pleasures after feeling lonely, liking Haechan’s attention, developing feelings for him. That’s right, developing feelings for Haechan seems an insane thing to do or even think about. But it happened, you realise it now that you somehow put an end to your relationship with Sungchan, and the fact that someone had to suffer just so you could feel a bit better about what you were doing — by postponing the inevitable talk — only makes you think that you have to be punished somehow, for the way you played around with people’s feelings.

Are you supposed to live your life as Haechan’s girlfriend now? Freshly out of another relationship? Yet there’s a thought looming over your head like a dark cloud. What if you just played yourself? What if this was never meant to be something genuine, what if it was just Haechan’s sick and twisted way of showing you that he always wins and always gets everything he wants?

You can’t stand the thought of it. And there’s only one solution to alleviate at least a bit of all your worries and the guilt you’re feeling like it’s eating at your chest from the inside.

The football field is loud as you see Haechan’s team running around during their practice, and somehow he sees you as soon as you set foot into the lightened side of the bleachers. 

It’s cold outside, you see their breaths in the air as they exhale, and you still can’t understand why this sport exists. You put your nose down, covering it with your scarf, and you see Haechan’s fluffy hair bouncing around as he runs towards you, after telling everyone to take a break. 

He’s certainly surprised to see you here, because everyone needs to be under the impression he doesn’t even exist and you don’t know anything about his existence — or so you’ve told him before. But you’re here, and besides the initial excitement he felt when he saw you coming to one of his practice games, Haechan’s stomach now drops instantly to his ass when he notices you cried.

Panic sets into his bones when he gets closer to you, and your beautiful eyes are bloodshot, you’re literally trembling as you’re sitting on the bleachers, nose and chin deep into your fluffy red scarf, but you feel off. He knows it, he doesn’t need to ask you if anything’s wrong, because he already knows you’re not feeling like yourself right now.

“What’s wrong,” He rasps worriedly as soon as he reaches you, and you don’t bother moving from your spot on the seat. He’s standing in front of you, seemingly patient, but he’s literally boiling on the inside.

You raise your chin, so he can hear you clearly, “I told Sungchan,” You mumble, and your bottom lip quivers, making his heart break for you. 

Are you crying because he hurt you? Did Sungchan tell you hurtful things? Is this the cause of all the distress you’re feeling right now?

“Oh,” Haechan mumbles in understanding, and he fights the urge to ask anything because he knows he might anger you with his irreparable humour. 

“Yeah… oh,” you repeat after him, voice heavy with emotion. Haechan never wanted to see you cry, he never wanted for anything of what you’ve been doing to lead to any of this.

In his defence, he warned you. You should have put a stop to your relationship with Sungchan a while ago, when things weren’t as complicated and entangled as they are now.

“Is he… is he okay?” Haechan doesn’t really care, but he sees how affected you are, so he thinks things might have been bad and heavy while you talked to your now ex-boyfriend. 

Or is he not your ex boyfriend? Haechan’s stomach drops at the thought of this being a possibility.

You shrug, exhaling a shaky breath. 

Haechan isn’t one compatible with anxiety, the term isn’t even part of his vocabulary. But right now Haechan feels anxious as hell, and his leg starts bouncing — not from the cold outside, rather from the cold feeling settling through his bones at all the thoughts racing inside his head.

“Then… what’s wrong?” He tries once more, and you finally break.

“You don’t understand!” You have a sudden burst, getting to your feet in a millisecond, “We ruined everything, and you still don’t understand!”

Haechan doesn’t understand, indeed. 

“I was happy, you were just someone I couldn’t stand, and I was in a happy relationship with my boyfriend. And then you ruined everything,” you cry, trying to keep your voice down.

Haechan can’t believe what he’s hearing. Are you accusing him of ruining your life — and consequently Sungchan’s as well?

He scoffs, no shadow of any smirk or grin on his face, “It takes two to tango, Y/n!” He bursts as well, tone impatient, “Are you blaming it on me? After the last months spent together?” He’s in disbelief, and the look in his eyes is a raging one, nostrils flaring trying to even his breathing.

“We are both equally responsible for it,” you nod, knowing that it’s the truth, “But it was a mistake, and I’ll pay for it for the remainder of my days here at this campus,”

“What the fuck are you implying right now?” He barks, trying to get closer to you, yet you move out of reach, away from the bleachers.

“This,” you move your hand between your figure and his, “Shouldn’t have happened! What the fuck were we even thinking?” You ask, but it sound more like a monologue, to which he’s only a spectator.

But Haechan’s chest feels heavy all of a sudden, because he knows you. He knows who you are, what and how you are, what goes on inside your mind at all times, and this moment doesn’t look good to him. 

It all becomes more real when he sees you taking a few steps back, and he feels like his heart is ready to lurch out of his chest.

He shakes his head, “Whatever it is you think it’s the best choice right now, it really isn’t, Y/n,” he tries, but you shake your head at him, not wanting to hear a word of it, “It’s not the best choice for us right now,”

“There is no us! How can you even think that there can ever be?” You cry once again, tears staining your cheeks, already red from the cold.

“Don’t,” he warns, trying to stop you by walking towards you, and you take a few steps back.

“Remember what you said to me? No one has to know. Let’s just keep it this way,” You walk away, but Haechan stays still, too in shock to even process what just happened.

Tonight, you broke up with him as well, and you weren’t even together — and the fact that Haechan has absolutely no idea why you did it is making him want to hurl.

“Y/n!” He screams after you, but your feet are quick to take you as far away from his as possible. 

Haechan’s stomach feels funny, like it’s boiling over, and he bends down a second before hurling. He can’t believe what just happened, and everything feels too hard to digest right now — but one thing is certain, Haechan feels like he might hurl his heart out next.

For the remainder of the time before your Christmas break, you spend your time laying low. In and out of lectures, you skip the one you share with Haechan. You skip the place where you know Sungchan spends his time, and if there’s even remotely the slightest of hints that he’s around, you pack your things and go.

Sungchan never approached you, and to be completely honest and true to yourself, you don’t feel like much has changed in your life. With him being away all the time even when you were together, sometimes only speaking on the phone and through texts, you feel like only that small part has changed now that it’s completely lacking. 

There’s still the burden you have to carry around with yourself — the thought that you played with Sungchan and behaved like an idiot. Nothing is ever going to fix this, the anxiety you’re feeling when you see or hear something about him around campus. The shame, the guilt, the sleepless nights spent being haunted by the last conversation you had with him.

And there’s Haechan, and the thought of him devastates you, because you know you got used to life with him and now you have absolutely no one left to rely on, or be with. You lost Sungchan to the role of President of the student body but it wasn’t always like this — yet as he advanced through the years of study, his responsibilities only grew and so did whatever was demanded of him. The last year in this position is what stole him away from you, and you found yourself to be lonelier than ever without even realising it in the first place.

And then you lost Haechan to the unbearable feeling of betrayal you felt, only that the one betraying was you and no one else. You betrayed Sungchan and that was the worst you could have done to someone you claimed you loved — and worst thing of all, you did it with Haechan.

Haechan made you feel like you were reborn. Besides the initial bickering that subsided as you and him started seeing each other more regularly, you felt seen and appreciated, and you’d go as far as to say that you felt loved.

Crazy, you think to yourself, but that’s genuinely what you felt. He drove you insane, literally. Between always getting down and busy and get you into bed, putting your pleasure first absolutely every single time, he spent time with you — seeing you, supporting you, being there for you. 

But that’s also out the window, because you refuse to open up to him about your expectations and how you felt about him — in fear of being seen as silly, stupid even.

You wish you could tell if everything you went through with Haechan has been genuine, but there really isn’t a way to tell it. You know it has been, at least from your part, but who can vouch for him? He’s never really liked Sungchan, and he loved riling you up at any given opportunity, so what if he just wanted to prove a point?

Haechan tried crossing paths with you a few times, but you either changed directions, or you found friends you could talk around with. This way you knew he could never approach you to talk about absolutely anything.

You’re sure that you’ll mend, both in relation to what you’ve done to Sungchan and to come to terms with the reality after going through the whole Haechan situation. You know you’ll learn to forgive yourself one way or another, even if it might take time, even if you’re aware of the fact that no man can ever compare to Haechan.

He’s turned your world upside down, he’s made it a mess. Every bit of integrity and everything you believed in destroyed by a simple scoff and plump lips pouting and reaching for yours.

You’ll be fine. You’ll have to be.

Keeping to yourself in your secluded spot at the library has become your salvation, besides the comfort of your dorms. No one can ever find you here, no one besides Sungchan, because he used to hide here with you all the time whenever he felt overwhelmed by his duties.

And you flinch when you feel someone setting a backpack on your table, right in front of you. You raise your eyes, and your heart nearly stops when you see Sungchan standing right at the opposite end of the table. 

“You look like you haven’t slept in a while,” he whispers, sparkly eyes scanning your face,

You show him a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, “That’s because I haven’t slept in a while,” You confirm.

He bites on his bottom lip, and he touches one of the chairs, “Can I sit down with you?”

You nod, and you take a good look at him. Tall, tidy, handsome as ever, wearing one of the sweaters you got him for Christmas your first year of dating each other. 

“Did he fuck up already?” He asks you, and you furrow your eyebrows, not understanding who’s he talking about. “Haechan,” he clarifies for you to understand, and your lips form an ‘oh’ of understanding.

“I have no idea what he’s doing, but knowing him you’re probably right. He must have fucked up someway,” you gulp, not knowing what you should say to your ex boyfriend, about the guy you cheated on him with. 

“He’s fucking up in a lot of ways,” he plays with his bottom lip, “He’s fucking up the team, he’s fucking up his reputation, he’s fucking up your relationship,” everything Sungchan says feels like a big question mark, but especially the last part.

“Our relationship? There’s no relationship,” you shake your head, confused, “I actually want to give you a proper apology about everything,”

He stops you before you can continue, “I actually want to give you a proper apology, myself,”

You look at him confused, but he goes on before you can ask him anything, “I realised that I kept you hostage in a relationship that didn’t work out. I know you were unhappy, I realised this after you left that night and I came to terms with the fact that it was my fault in the first place,” he explains, looking you straight into the eyes.

You gulp, and there’s a splitting headache taking over you.

He clears his throat, “I should have set you free instead of keeping you in a relationship that didn’t feel as rewarding as our first year and a half together. I’m so sorry for being selfish and overlooking your needs,” 

You can’t believe your ears. You should be the one apologising right now, instead he’s here doing it and basically understanding you and why you did it? You’re in utter disbelief.

“Still, that doesn’t change the fact that I betrayed your trust,” you whisper, almost on the verge of tears.

“That’s right,” he concludes, completely agreeing with you, “But I’m here saying that I wasn’t the best boyfriend either, so I’m choosing to give you the benefit of the doubt. It took me a while to understand this, that’s why I’m here only now,”

Your eyes brim with tears while looking at him, at his composed self, and the little smile he’s throwing your way just so he can reassure you. Your heart breaks once again realising what you have lost with him, or what you never actually had to the fullest.

“You said no relationship?” He asks confused, and it doesn’t click right away that he’s talking about Haechan, “Is this why I saw him around campus wearing flip flops through the snow?” He asks curiously, throwing a thumb behind his shoulder to indicate the campus, “Is this why he’s acting this way?” 

“What way?” You’re not sure what he’s expecting from you. You really haven’t kept up with Haechan ever since you left him behind on the football field a while ago.

“He’s destroying the team and university’s reputation. He doesn’t go to practice, doesn’t show up for important stuff… I think I have a few students complaining about his behaviour around campus too,” he explains, and he seems surprised seeing how you don’t know any of this. 

You seem to have done a perfect job at protecting your peace. 

“Na Jaemin called me earlier, telling me Haechan is refusing to play today, and the disciplinary committee is sitting in the bleachers,” He just keeps going, and you’re sure that if you let him, he’ll have a dozen other things to add to the list of problematic things Haechan has done lately.

“That can’t be good,” you mumble worriedly, and he nods at you.

“It isn’t. Trust me. That’s another reason why I’m here now,” he sees you cocking a brow, so he goes on, “I know you’re the one who can make him get back on track. Go get him,” and the moment he sees you looking at him like he’s kidding, he snaps his fingers a few times, “Go, Y/n!”

You jump to your feet, trying to pack all your stuffs, and Sungchan’s hand slaps yours, “I’ll take these for you and I’ll come see the game. I’ll see you there,” he grabs you by the arms, manhandling you and pushing you away towards the library’s exit, “And please tell that fucker I placed good money betting he’ll win, so he’d better not let me down,” 

“What?” You bark, outraged, totally forgetting where you are right now and the fact that you need to keep it down, “You bet on him? Money?”

Sungchan rolls his eyes at you, “Go!” 

And you sprint away, leaving Sungchan to deal with a wave of shushes coming from everyone sitting quietly in the library, and with your things.

Your heart is racing, mostly after finding a gram of piece after seeing Sungchan and talking to him, but also because you know what your destination is. Now there’s only one more person you have to talk to.

You reach the locker room in record time, and honestly you don’t even know how you made it seem physically possible to run all the way over here in such short time. You open the door to the locker room, and the atmosphere feels heavy. 

You recognise the team, you look around the room to see Haechan’s friend and roommate, Na Jaemin — and he jumps to his feet to reach you, dragging you just outside. 

“I could honestly kiss you right now,” he tells you, eyes big as saucers.

“I’d rather you didn’t do that,” you warn him, looking up at him. You’ve always had a suspicion that Jaemin knew what was going on behind closed doors between you and Haechan, but he never made comments. 

“I’m scared shitless, Y/n, please do something,” he shakes you by the arms, and you nod, pointing your head at the door to the locker room, signalling him to open it for you.

He does it in a millisecond, pulling it wide open, “Everyone get out, now!” He rasps, his voice echoing throughout the otherwise silent room, and everyone obeys.

You go in, inspecting the place. You suppose he’s here somewhere, and then your eyes look for the familiar medical bed you and Haechan put to use a few times after his practice, sneaking around.

And there he is, sitting on his side, his back facing you, not even realising you’re there with him. You pull up next to the bed, shaking him, and he snatches his arm right out of your grasp as soon as you try to get his attention on you.

“Haechan!” You warn, pinching him, and he lets out a whine of pain before turning around to look at you.

“What- How?” He asks confused, turning his body so he can face you. “What are you doing here?” 

“What are you doing here?” You accentuate the word, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Fucking around with your reputation as well as the team’s?”

He shrugs, looking up at you, “I don’t care. I don’t care about anything anymore,” 

You slap his chest, “Oh my god stop whining, you sound so depressing!”

“I am depressed!” He fights back, lips pouting, “I shouldn’t even be here right now, but Jaemin did scare me into getting into his car…”

The implication of Jaemin scaring the man that cannot be scared of or threatened by anything is making you fight back a snort. 

“Why are you depressed? You have it all, and the disciplinary committee is also attending,” you explain like he’s five years old.

“I don’t have it all!” He sits up, raising his voice with a whine, “I don’t have you! And I want you! I’ve wanted you from the very beginning and you just ended up with Slanderman himself!”

“Hey!” You retort, pinching him once again, “Be nice! I wouldn’t be here to tell you that I love you if it weren’t for him,”

“Oh my god, you met up with him before me? Just kill me now,” he whines, throwing himself back down onto the bed. It takes him a few seconds to go through the words you spoke, now echoing in his head.

He pushes right up, blinking at you. You blink right back at him a few times, and his gaze doesn’t falter, instead there’s a sparkle settling in.

“Do you mean it?” He sits on the edge of the bed, and you get closer to his figure.

You peck his lips, “I mean it, and we should have a proper conversation later,” you peck his lips again, this time moving to pepper some kisses in the corner of his mouth as well, “But Sungchan told me to let you know he bet serious money on you losing tonight, so wouldn’t it be nice to show him he’s wrong?”

Haechan’s lips are immediately on yours, yet you don’t fight back. The moment you saw him pouting with despair you knew you wanted to kiss him. He holds you still by placing his hands on both sides of your face, and you give into his pace, rhythm — his hunger making the kiss incredibly messy and desperate. 

“Don’t talk dirty like that, my dick is getting hard as we speak,” He jumps off the bed after letting you go. 

Your chest blooms with pride after lying to him, remembering how Sungchan placed a bet on Haechan winning, but you know that twisting it a bit to make your own version would have stirred the ever so competitive Haechan to prove Sungchan wrong — and you’re extremely happy, even if you’ll have to tell him the truth later after the game.

Haechan gets ready at the speed of lightning, while also stealing quick kisses from you. Pecks all over your face, neck, playfully pulling at you hoodie, everything he can do while still getting ready to go out on the field on time.

And eventually he joins the game, and of course the Lee Haechan wins — but because he has something, or someone to fight for. 

His ego is big, his chest blooms with pride because he knows what he’s capable of. And Lee Haechan can proudly claim he does have it all right now — because he has you, yet everyone should still feel threatened by him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: to everyone who read who is it... im sorry it had to be sungchan once again </3333 this fic was supposed to be up around his birthday and i couldn't allow it (◞‸◟,) i want to thank my sam @taeeflwrr for helping and putting up with me and my endless talks about this series and the songs chosen (ily!) but also for making the banner for this fic! <3<3<3 and thank you to everyone who read, i appreciate and love every single one of you! i hope you enjoyed and i'll see you for the next one ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶ ꒱ྀིა

TAGLIST: @hyuckmoon @ridinhyuck @imnotrosiee @kissyfacekoo @nctubatu @daryaa8a @winnietheboos @saiuoma @kakutoz @dudekiss3r @crzyhyuck @jirsungs @cinnayomiroll @gomdoleemyson @vantxx95 @jenzyoit @prettymoles @simjakyuu @bamjjwi  @d6llce @hyuckluvr-com @ihatefrvits @mystverse @fullsunflowerfield @positionslab @xbmbea @afterhvours @leleszn @neotannies @hypneosis @doiejaeyo @honeynanamin @xtrataerrestrial @neocityscreamer @bbyjayb @haesluvr @notmastyle @luvvhaechan @yuthabitz @itzafran @ohmysion @sunflowerhae @kyungsooislifeu @serenedreamscape @lelecidio