rika @rikanescence - Tumblr Blog

condensation

in other words: sunghoon grows obsessed with a member from a new group, you !

wc (11,635) ｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡ warnings: dead dove, mdni, smut, angst, fem!reader

there was something pristine in cleanliness, something sacred, and sunghoon knew it well. he had been called a neat-freak by his members numerous times and he couldn't blame them. he had never gotten a cavity, never left his dishes unwashed, never missed a laundry day.

as a kid, he wasn’t snot-nosed like the others. it was easy for his parents to take pride in his being so neat and well-mannered. there was one incident, however, when he had made the mistake of enjoying watermelon slices with his new white t-shirt. afterwards, he had spent hours by the sink trying to wash out the splotches of red, smeared on the cloth like blood. the stains faded, lost their vibrance, but not completely. he could still see the ghost of where they used to be, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. they reminded him of what he had done.

after the sun had set, and the skin of his fingers was all wrinkled like he'd soaked too long in the bathtub, sunghoon came to understand a vital truth: purity was fragile. at the slightest disturbance, it would be dirtied forever. in that moment, as he clutched his sullied shirt with hands that had begun to tremble, sunghoon thought that he could cry.

-♡-

the metal cell had never felt this small. he stepped inside and the door closed behind him, confining him in this shrunken space. he leaned against the wall and his eyes glazed over you at first, like skipping a line in a book, then it hit him. the reason why he seemed to have less room was because he was sharing this space with another. inside the elevator stood the two of you. sunghoon and an unfamiliar face. an unfamiliar existence, huddled into the corner. you caught his gaze for a fraction of a second, then bowed along with your stammered greeting.

he didn't respond, he could only stare at the wisps of your hair that stuck out above the rest. the gradient where your foundation met the bare skin of your neck. the quiver of your lip as you debated further conversation. with each silent second in the elevator, he felt the beating of his heart growing louder. it was only when the door opened, cool air rushing in as you rushed out, that sunghoon noticed how warm he had become. much to his surprise, a bead of sweat inched down his temple.

-♡-

the sun had risen on yet another content day. he would choose an outfit, then film half a dozen short-form videos to be uploaded over the next few days. usually a light-hearted opportunity for him to catch up with his colleagues, but the group name that a staff member had just uttered didn't ring a bell. like always, sunghoon's low screen time kept him out of the loop.

“new girl group, they're not too popular yet,” she explained as they walked down the hallway, “one of their members will teach you the dance for their debut song, then she'll do an enhypen challenge.”

sunghoon nodded, a piece of his heart breaking away as he imagined what kind of dance he would be forced to film for the group. he told himself that he could manage as long as there was no aegyo. the door to the dance room was opened for him and, this time, he couldn't miss you. elevator girl.

“s-sunghoon seonbae-nim,” you bowed, and he watched the flow of your hair as you did, “it's– it's nice to meet you.”

your eyes darted to the member of staff beside you, as if awaiting guidance, then back to him. you reminded him of a dog on a leash.

“i brought– we have a gift for you.”

taking the parcel held in your staff member’s hands, the rehearsed words tumbled from your lips. you tucked your hair into the crook behind your ear, trying to ignore your nerves. this was your first official interaction with an idol outside of your group, and for it to be a member of such a popular boy group was close to terrifying. he seemed even taller now than in the elevator, back when you could still keep some distance.

“it's our, uh, debut ep, i hope you enjoy it a lot.”

“ah, thank you,” sunghoon mumbled, accepting your present with a polite smile as if he would ever listen to it.

this was a new record of closeness between you two. now that you were not curled up in a corner, sunghoon could see your face clearly. he thought, if only in passing, that it was truly beautiful. like a garden of flowers, refreshing in its nature.

“sunghoon, she'll teach you the dance. could you move over there, please?”

his eyes locked onto the back of your knees as you shuffled into position, where the ring light cast a halo glow over your frame. the catchy, bubblegum tune of your group's track sounded through the vast and empty room.

“so, first you, um–” you made a movement with your arm. “you need to do like this, okay?”

sunghoon mirrored your actions, fighting a laugh at your obvious embarrassment. he'd been in those shoes before.

“okay,” he nodded.

despite clear timidity, there was still a graceful charm to your dancing. you moved as part of the song, as if the melody possessed you and its vibrations travelled through your body. you were done before he realised it.

“uh, did you get it?”

“ah,” he drew out, furrowing his brows.

an apologetic grin grew on his face as he asked if you could show him again. of course, you accepted without question. the dance was simple, easy to remember, but sunghoon had just now discovered the joy of watching you dance. one more time couldn't hurt.

“i got it now. thank you.”

staff counted down, then sunghoon did the dance along with you, not missing a single step. the phone was turned to your faces for review, and you mustered the courage to ask for his opinion.

“is it, uhm, okay?”

since when, sunghoon wondered, were there these many galaxies in a person's eyes? yours were big with worry and bambi-like, waiting for approval from your senior.

“it's okay. you did a good job.”

“n-no, i didn't… it's only good because of you, but thank you.”

even as you rejected his compliment, your lips stretched into a bashful smile. he found that too cute, you were easy to tease.

“you're talented, really,” he insisted, “or do you think i'm lying?”

“no, no, never! i'm sorry!”

your pleased expression dropped and you glanced at the staff in panic. both women, however, were laughing.

“i was joking,” sunghoon clarified, “don't worry.”

he waited until your eyes returned to their usual diameter before continuing, “let's do my challenge now. do you know our song ‘knife'?”

you nodded, “yeah, but i don't know the dance.”

when you spoke, he could catch the tiniest sliver of the inside of your mouth, the black void between your teeth. you shifted your weight as you spoke and sunghoon tried to ignore the lengths of your legs below your skirt.

“can i touch you?”

he wished he could forever preserve your reaction to his question. your eyebrows pinned high above your eyes and your mouth parting, a confused whimper jumping out.

“it's easier to teach you like that.”

“oh– oh! yes, okay,” you stuttered through a myriad of expressions, “you can, uh, touch me.”

his hand stretched out to you before you had finished speaking, fingers wrapping around your forearm. it almost burned your skin where he touched, as if he were a radiator. somehow, you had expected him to be colder. when he was close like this, you could see the dampness of sweat on his philtrum and hairline. strange because, to you, the room wasn't hot at all.

“for my version, you start by doing this,” he guided. his touch was soft and intimate, like a whisper between lovers. warmth lingered wherever he had held. your wrists and your hips, they burned for him. you were his doll as he moved your limbs, autonomy only returned when his song began to play.

“let her try on her own,” your staff spoke up, after a disquieting amount of silence from both women. no more laughter. you did as she said and– despite not being to your satisfaction— your performance seemed perfect to them.

“but i don't think i got it down yet,” you mumbled with a small frown. your timing felt off, and you weren’t too sure on your expressions, but you must have just been overthinking it.

“no, it's great, right?”

“it's great,” the other woman agreed, “he doesn't need to teach you– you don't need to practice it anymore. let's film.”

after a meek nod, the countdown started. you moved beside him, a false confidence in front of the camera. it would be a bad look to perform another group's dance poorly. you shuddered at the mere thought of what the netizen comments would look like.

“that's a wrap. good job everyone.”

unlike the expected relief, there was a part of sunghoon that felt disappointed when filming stopped. you bowed and waved before leaving, sweet scent trailing behind you. he picked up your group's ep from the floor and hoped he'd be seeing you again soon.

-♡-

somehow, since those two encounters, sunghoon had found that you popped up in his mind more than he could explain. when he exercised his arms, doing his dumbbell curls, he would wonder if you were also working out elsewhere in the building. wonder if your schedules would soon melt into one another. the same way how winter snow melted into spring puddles. you could meet in the middle. if not, he would have to come to you.

album in his hands, sunghoon stared at the plastic-wrapped item. the cover art was pretty. curling text on a bright pink background. it was the queasy kind of cute one could associate with marble-eyed rainbow plushies. plasticky. the veins of his arm became more apparent as he flexed his hand, prying off the nylon wrap with his fingers. he couldn't believe himself as he did so, and he knew that you wouldn’t either. it was a courtesy gift, the gesture mattering more than the item, but here sunghoon was. twenty-three years old on his bed, hunched over the cd of some premature girl group. he ran the face of his finger across the sleeve, underlining the glittery silver words.

“heart explosion,” sunghoon scoffed, biting the inside of his cheek, “cute.”

he spread the album booklet open, paper contents falling onto his lap like ripe fruit falling from a tree. he would pick one up to have a taste of, why not? sunghoon closed his eyes, let the anticipation build within him and hammer through his chest. the smooth surface of a photocard was felt between his thumb and forefinger. he would gamble. if he pulled you, he reasoned, he had to get close to you no matter what. it was only his destiny that way.

in the second before he opened his eyes, sunghoon felt some sort of dread. some sinking in his heart. you had to be fated, had to be, because he couldn't count on elevators to get his fix of you. as light and colour filtered back into his view, so did the image of a girl. pigtails and a peace sign, complete with a timid smile. sunghoon hadn't noticed that he’d stopped breathing until he released one massive volume of air. he could not believe his luck.

-♡-

“hyung, are you free today?”

among his members, sunghoon was known to cause the least trouble. he was respectful of everyone's boundaries and, although sunoo would disagree, he was never a real nuisance. he had earned the right to be an inconvenience, just this once.

heeseung looked up from his nintendo switch and pushed back the hair that had fallen over his eyes. its red had already washed out into something like an earthy purple, though he had just dyed it a few days ago.

“yeah,” heeseung shrugged, apprehensive as he stretched out the word, “why?”

sunghoon averted his gaze. night was approaching and the money had already been charged from his account. there was no use in beating around the bush.

“do you wanna go to a concert with me?”

heeseung's brows relaxed above his big eyes and he grew a smile.

“a concert? i thought jay didn't wanna work out with you or something,” he laughed, “yeah, i'll go with you. who are we seeing?”

“c-four.”

heeseung laughed until his saliva went down the wrong way, making him sit up straight on the couch and cough his lungs out.

“c-four,” he panted, “ah, that was a good one. you're funny.”

once he'd settled down, heeseung looked at sunghoon's face and realised there wasn't a hint of amusement. mouth in a straight line, no raised eyebrows.

“wait– you're serious? did you lose a bet or something?”

“are you coming with me or not? we have to leave before traffic gets too bad, and you need to hurry up and get dressed,” sunghoon grumbled before adding, “please.”

heeseung accepted, despite his confusion. he had never before seen sunghoon like this and it was, frankly, kind of cute to see the self-sufficient sunghoon ask heeseung to hang out with him. he would have to return to his animal crossing world later. for now, it was his responsibility to be a good friend.

-♡-

the concert venue was on the more humble side. it allowed heeseung to remember his first real performance after the pandemic, the nerves and the unbelievable screams from the german crowd. the first time he was looked at like he was someone to be idolised.

sunghoon settled into his nosebleed seat beside heeseung. he would forever be grateful to the other man for coming with him. now it was less ‘sunghoon is a c-four superfan’ and more ‘senior idols cheer on the new hybe group during their concert.’ more wholesome.

in the time between now and when he had opened your ep, sunghoon had educated himself. your group had four members, of which you– unfortunately– had the least posts dedicated to online. it would surprise anyone to learn that three hour screen time park sunghoon had made a forum account, but to him, it was worth it. like remembering that his schedule would be starting late the next day, getting a notification for a post about you was what made his heart so much lighter. what made him smile that much brighter. it was nothing serious, really, how he felt about you. it was simply boredom and a care for his industry junior.

overlapping conversations echoed through the dome as attendees shuffled into their seats. sunghoon wished he was surprised as the chairs filled with men his age or older. the guys who populated c-four’s forums, debating which music video from the ep had the best outfits or which member was better at aegyo. sunghoon only clicked on a post when you were the focus.

“do you know their names,” he asked, watching the stage intensely as he waited to catch sight of you.

“their names? uh, not really,” heeseung smiled, shaking his head, “but i know the song– explosion.”

“heart explosion,” sunghoon corrected with the slightest twitch of his eye.

“yeah, that. i hear that shit all the time, i could probably perform it,” heeseung joked, “i'll be the fourth member.”

“there already are four members, hyung.”

“really? i guess a trio would be too small to market.”

sunghoon couldn't blame his friend for not taking notice of each member. you were the only one that truly mattered, anyways. they were the backdrop. the background noise of snares and kick drums, whereas the voice that got stuck inside his head belonged to you. unforgettable.

blue and magenta lights flashed onto the stage as four girls walked forward. of course, sunghoon's eyes were on you alone. the schoolgirl-inspired stage outfit you had been dressed in: navy skirt, big bow, and your dolly makeup. you looked as perfect as a painting on the big screen, and sunghoon wished he could see you up close for himself. for now, he would settle for this. sunghoon saw, out of the corner of his eyes, heeseung doing a little dance in his seat as the opening song started to play.

“everyone!”

soft and light like a cloud. sunghoon could recognise your marshmallow-soft voice with his eyes closed. he would be keeping them wide open, however, as he had to keep staring at you.

“are you, uh, ready to have a great time?”

-♡-

the dormitory seemed extra quiet after all the noise of the concert, like all sound had been sucked into a vacuum. like it was dead. that was what crossed sunghoon’s mind as he removed his shoes by the door, before heeseung spoke up.

“you know, that was funner than i thought it would be. i guess you have taste.”

sunghoon hummed in acknowledgement, he just wanted to go to his room and see the photos uploaded by those lucky bastards in the front row. he hoped their cameras were better than his eyesight could ever be, that he could see you in excruciating detail.

“they're pretty cute, too,” he continued, “especially that one, you know.”

heeseung sucked in a breath and snapped his fingers, mind searching for an apt description.

“the one who did the intro,” he clarified, “with the pigtails.”

sunghoon paused in an instant, hand hovering above his door handle. he reminded himself to keep breathing, but the breaths were heavy as they pushed out of his nostrils. he reminded himself that heeseung was his friend who had just done him a big favour, who had given him another chance to see you. it wasn’t his fault you were charming. it was no one’s fault.

“you alright?”

“yeah,” sunghoon sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, “i guess she is cute.”

he entered his room and locked the door, turning on his laptop. his chair creaked as he sat on it, waiting for the screen to light up from solid black.

-♡-

fortune had smiled down on sunghoon again. he wasn't looking for you, not even thinking of you that much, yet there you were. your head pounded from the overflow of synthetic lights and your measly amount of sleep. sunghoon noted the scrunch of your nose when you squinted your eyes. under the room's harsh brightness, he was sure he could make out each pore of your face, if only you were to come a little closer.

he wanted, so desperately, to be closer to you. everyone knew that opposite-sex friendships were strongly frowned upon, if not forbidden, but sunghoon could change the narrative. he wouldn’t be your friend, he would be your mentor. he had a sister, after all, it wouldn’t be that weird for him to relate with a younger female idol.

this broadcast would be his chance to establish a dynamic between you that the company could approve of, then it would be alright for him to stand by your side or in your shadow. it took him a few steps to get into that position.

“good morning.”

he knew it was cruel, but it was too amusing how you flinched and scrambled to bow for him.

“s-sunghoon seonbae-nim! good morning,” you rushed, “i'm sorry, i, uh, didn't see you.”

the shiny gloss on your lips made them plump like a cherry, sparkling like precious gemstones beneath harsh light. highlights and glitter by your eyes reminded sunghoon of the cover of your group's ep. they had dolled you up real nice and neat.

“have you learned your lines,” he asked, eyeing the script you clutched with manicured fingers.

“um, i think i have,” you smiled, and it was a sight for sunghoon's sore eyes, “i've been practicing since five in the morning.”

“five?”

his gasp had the upturned notes of a stifled laugh, he brought up his bushy brows as if truly stunned by the idea of an idol waking up early to practice.

“wow, i would never have guessed! you don't look tired,” he added, “you're glowing.”

“no, i'm not!”

it was the highest honour for you to be praised by sunghoon, an honour you felt undeserving of. you wished to hide your warm face behind your hands, but you couldn't risk smudging anything the makeup artists had worked so hard on.

“it's– it's just the makeup, really. i took a power nap while they were doing it,” you admitted with shy laughter.

he loved watching how your face stretched to accommodate your smile, molding into a pretty picture of pure joy. how could he not be attracted to a thing so lovely?

“if you feel tired later, you should grab a coffee with me,” sunghoon shrugged and you froze. he wasn't perturbed, though, it wasn't like you could refuse him as your elder. you must still have been shy.

“or milk tea. you would like something sweet like that, wouldn’t you?”

he was sure of it. you were sweetness incarnate, so it only made sense. his dark oak pupils watched as yours darted around in search of direction from somebody. even when the ball was in your court, you could not act without the command of a coach.

“um, i'm not sure i can,” you mumbled, papers crumpling from your strengthened grip, “i'm so sorry.”

so it was as he guessed. you had gotten a scolding after he'd laid hands on you in the dance room, poor thing. he could imagine the tremble of your lip and the twitch of your nose tip as you sniffled in shame. a dumb rookie who didn't know any better.

“why not? i'll be paying, if that's the issue. does saturday work?”

sunghoon figured it made sense for him to interpret your refusal that way. he'd been there, six years ago, in a new group with a full heart and an empty wallet. you would either spell the real problem out for him, or be too sheepish and accept. he was willing to bet his life on the latter, and lately, his luck had been beyond good.

“no, not an issue at all! you don't have to– i'm… uh, okay. i would be glad to… to do that.”

he smiled with all thirty-two of his white teeth, knowing that he would simply seem glad that you'd accepted his invitation. in fact, it was comedic to him how he could predict your every move like you were a character in a bad film.

“good. then i'll give you my number after this.”

you nodded, then a call of your name had you scampering away. he could now see how they had tied a ribbon in your hair for a look that was sickeningly sweet. sunghoon watched the silk fabric swim in the air as you rushed towards the voice.

-♡-

“i’m so excited for the comeback of this new group! how about you, sunghoon?” the seasoned mc spoke her lines without missing a single beat, her face was friendly and her energy was lively. he hoped it would outshine his awkwardness. eyes trained on the camera lens, sunghoon stretched his mouth into a smile fit for a broadcast. he had spent hours in rehearsal going over his lines, yet he couldn’t shake off the habit of checking his cue cards.

“yes, my heart is racing! it may even explode,” he joked, suppressing the urge to cringe. it was nostalgic for him to be playing this role again. the kind of nostalgia you get from seeing a food that made you throw up.

“that’s right, everyone. today we are introducing a member of the sparkling new girl group– c-four! their debut ep, ‘heart explosion!’ released just a month ago!”

the crowd erupted into cheers and applause as the cameraman closed in on you. this was your time, just as you had practiced, but there were so many people. the lights were too bright. the stage was too big for you alone, but your other members would only appear during the performance. you were scared.

“b-boom! this is c-four,” you introduced yourself with large eyes on the lens, “it’s nice to meet you!”

“wow,” she drew out, smile not faltering for a moment, “how cute! everyone, be careful not to fall in love!”

“c-four’s charm definitely needs a warning,” sunghoon remarked, though in his opinion the charm was exclusive to you, “was your title track inspired by your dangerous power to make everyone fall in love?”

sunghoon. out of all the faces in the room, his was the one that you recognised. it was grounding. you knew those moles and full brows. his voice was familiar, even if the mc persona was not. you had practiced this. you should have been able to recite the words in your sleep, but there was something about the pressure of a hundred unfamiliar faces that made the lines evaporate from your mind. fear was hot and embarrassment burned. you needed an ice prince to cool you down.

“yes,” as you nodded, you remembered to smile, “our ‘heart explosion!’ is not– not only about the fluttering feeling that you f-feel in your heart around the person you like, but also, uhm, also about how you can feel a love so strong that, uh, that it kind of explodes.”

“explodes? that sounds dangerous, doesn’t it, sunghoon?”

“scary,” he concurred, “could you show off the point dance of this explosive song?”

“we’ve practiced, so we’ll do it along with you. music cue!”

it was hard not to show surprise when sunghoon took your hand and brought you between himself and the female host. right in the centre, but you were sure that his presence would take most of the attention from you. who would want to look at you, when he was right there with his stupidly handsome face? what a relief it was for sunghoon to be by your side. you smiled at him, hoping it would convey your utter appreciation, and he returned it. you wished you could hold his hand for a little longer. you were already savouring its heat.

a catchy rhythm blasted from the loudspeakers in no time. the cameraman stepped back as the song built up to the chorus, and you prepared to hear the same fifteen second audio clip for the hundredth time this week. with warm skin and trembling fingers, you carried out the dance as best as you could. sways of your hips and turns of your head, doing justice to the pretty ribbon that danced alongside you.

“du-du-du, explosion!”

you finished by making a heart with your two hands, mimicking an explosion by spreading them apart with wiggling fingers. a cute ending fairy.

“wow,” sunghoon remarked, “i definitely wasn’t that good when i started out.”

“yes, that was some lovely dancing! i’m sure everyone can’t wait to see c-four’s full performance. where can we watch it?”

“uhm, exciting performances from– from all your favourite groups, and even more interviews, so stay– stay tuned,” you urged, smiling bright at the camera, “it’s coming up soon!”

you could once again breathe after having said your last line. sunghoon watched as your tense face relaxed into its usual softness like pudding springing back into shape. he hoped he had been good enough for you.

-♡-

in the past few weeks, sunghoon's screen time had skyrocketed. he had to stay in the know about you. more accurately, about you and him. seeing a post of you was great, yes, but what brought him ecstasy like no other was anything with the both of you. there was a clear link between your rise in popularity and your association with him. before, you had been a name only remembered by your group's fanbase. the missable maknae. now, because of sunghoon, you were worth thinking of. you were worth being jealous of. only because of him, people could come to appreciate you.

empty squares and captions loaded onto his grey screen, eventually filling with images and videos of his milk kitty. just yesterday was the broadcast, but you had been so beautiful then. your pictures flooded the forum like cherry blossoms bathing the stone pathway in pink petals.

his eyes fell onto the top post. there you were, and there he was. you looked towards him with a smile warm enough to seem intimate. your fingers were blurred by motion as they disconnected from his. it was exactly as he had planned. the caption read ‘there's obviously something going on between them’ and it had dozens of comments. it was likely that there had been an influx of his own fans, coming to debunk your relationship with him, but that was good. as long as there was deniability, he would not be separated from you by force. as had become routine to him, his mind went into focus mode to read through comments with maximum efficiency.

‘she looks shy around him lol cute’

‘did u see him at the concert??!’

‘sunghoon is mine tho’

‘the next it couple!!!’

‘we need more of them asap’

‘stfu you guys are all delusional. he's sm older than her that's literally gross.’

his mouth twitched. he would have blocked the last account in less than a second, were it not for another comment distracting him.

‘do u think theyve fucked yet’

there were three replies to it and he prayed they were not moral condemnations. his cursor hovered over the option to reveal them. perspiration hovering over his forehead, he clicked.

‘def unless hes crazy cus i would fuck her the sec i got her alone’

‘he's so lucky. ik she gave him her virginity :p’

‘oh fs. she was probably bleeding and crying when he put it in her tiny hole’

his cursor jittered around the screen as a result of his shaking fingers. he couldn't believe the perversity of the men in your so-called fanbase. what was more, he couldn't believe what it was doing to him. how earnestly he tried to keep his mind off of the things he craved to do to you. how could he, when it was described so vividly? he swallowed and did something he thought he never would: he hit ‘reply’. his fingers sped even quicker than his mind, darting between letter keys so he could get more fuel for his fire of burning desire.

‘how many times do you think they have done it?’

he commented before he could regret it. the heavy thumping of his heart served as a thrilling instrumental to this moment. he sat there, shifting from side to side in his chair as if it could give him even a fraction of his needed relief. his salvation came in the form of a notification. someone had replied to him that quickly. he wondered if it was a coincidence, or if they had been lurking as well. observing your entirety from a respectable distance.

‘often but sunghoons gotta initiate it every time. i can imagine her just being shy so hes gotta push her or hell die of blueballs lol’

both sides of his brain were at war. he hated knowing that there were these disgusting men, thinking they had any right to imagine you in any impure scenarios. he loved being recognised as your romantic interest, especially in such detail. he wanted more.

‘that makes sense. do you think she is also shy in bed?’

‘with a girl like her who knows :/ usually the cute ones are the biggest sluts. maybe she lets sunghoon fuck her in the ass because shes just a big whore lololol’

his breathing paused. he scanned the words again and again. each time, growing even angrier. the audacity of this creep to call someone as innocent as you a slut. hot, dense air shot out through his nostrils and his thick eyebrows knitted closer. he wished he had the power to kill people through his screen, but all he could do was block the user after thoroughly insulting them.

‘piece of shit. how dare you call her a slut? is it not obvious to everyone in the world how pure she is? or are you just blind from thinking only with your tiny untouched dick? go fuck yourself before you die a virgin. afterwards, you should do us all a favour and kill yourself. make sure to do it where no one will ever have to see your slimy body. you're more useless than the dog shit she stepped on this morning.’

he felt his anger pulsating off of him in waves of heat. his matte black shirt was glued to his skin by sweat. he felt wet and sticky like an abandoned lollipop, gross. when he was brave enough to look down at his lap, his eyes grew wide. a dark patch was on his sweats, as if he had spilled water on himself, and the tent was large enough to be concerning. he needed to do something about it. like looking up to the sky in prayer, sunghoon looked back to his screen and saw a new reply.

‘this is her w him’

a link was attached to the short comment posted by another user, beckoning him like your sugary scent. his cursor hovered over the underlined blue text. he pushed his tongue into his cheek, waiting for desire to overtake him. the quiet sound of a click hit his eardrums as he inhaled, staring down the new tab opening on his laptop. he was off the deep end– opening random links without hesitation– and it was where he wanted to be, drowning in his draw to you.

the looping, grey circle vanished as video frames began to play. what got to him first was the noise. there was no build up, it started right in the middle as if he was late and had missed the start. he heard the sharp cry of pleasure that came from a woman, her face out of shot, and sunghoon scrambled for his headphones. he couldn't imagine what would happen if his members were to find out about this.

her legs were bent and tucked up above her shoulders, giving a clear display of her pussy as it was pounded into. the man groped her body with his hand and she seemed tiny in comparison. it was too easy to think of her as you. he knew he could make you scream just like that. he could stretch you out just like that, make you fucking bleed.

he hadn't blinked, his eyes were glued to his screen, he hadn't even realised that his hand had snuck into his boxers.

“ah, fuck,” he groaned, low enough in his throat to come out as carnal. he was painfully sensitive, hips jolting in his chair as he squeezed his hard dick. he needed it to be you, to imagine how clumsy you would be, what he gave himself was inconsistent and rough. precum flowed out from him, accentuating the wet ‘plap plap plap’ that sounded each time his fist travelled from tip to base.

the guilt that clawed at his heart only spurred him on, like some masochistic punishment. it was disgusting to think of you like this, he was disgusting, and yet he couldn't stop. he wanted you pure as snow, but at the same time, it was addictive to think of mixing red into the white. your innocence was what made you so lewd. there was nothing more obscene than a clear contrast. like biting into the forbidden fruit, the thrill mattered more than the taste. it was thrilling to envision disturbing your milky innocence, how you would never be the same after him. you could give him all that power.

“n-no,” cried the video girl, “don't– don't cum inside, please!”

fuck, she even stuttered just like you. the creaking stopped and her body remained still as it was filled up. a sharp ‘pop’ accompanied the emptying of her hole, creamy liquid oozing out between her folds without a dick to plug her up. she had been sullied. sunghoon bit down on his pink lip, humping into his palm as more groans spilled from him. he had to get his hands on you again. you were his to ruin. he discovered you first, was the first to notice you and the halo over your head. his precious, untainted thing. only he deserved you, even those useless perverts knew it.

the video had ended, but sunghoon didn't need it anymore. his mouth hung open as he relaxed into his chair, arm flexing as he cupped his dick. he thought of the glitter by your eyes and of the smile from your cherry lips. you would bleed and cry for him. fuck, he was so vile, but he knew he would find some way to forgive himself for this. for being the very kind of man he wanted to protect you from.

“i'm cumming, i'm cumming,” he whined, sweat from his forehead sliding down his nose. he stuck out his tongue and tasted the cool, salty liquid. this was his dedication to you. his eyelashes fluttered as his eyes rolled back, vision pure white as thick ropes of his release spurted free over his abdomen and wherever else it could reach. he saw your angelhood in his mind.

sunghoon's eyes were closed as he waited for his breathing to steady, only opening to see the mess he had made. he seriously had some cleaning up to do.

-♡-

saturday morning came and sunghoon greeted it with open arms. he slathered shaving cream along his jaw, passing the razor blade over again and again, until he was baby smooth. he picked out a white long-sleeve shirt with blue lines, draped it over himself before applying his woody cologne. it was annoying how he would have to hide his face, he knew it looked good, but you would want him anyway. as long as he could guide you.

before he left, he grabbed the antiperspirant he had purchased before the broadcast and sprayed it in excess. better to have on too much than too little, especially when it came to you. he wasn't sure how to be near you without burning up. sunghoon now understood that you set him on fire, and he asked himself when you had started to mean that much to him.

-♡-

daylight broke in through thin white curtains. the sun's golden glow spilled across the wooden table like splattered egg yolk, fitting for the café setting. a laminated menu waited for him, but sunghoon could only marvel at the angel sitting across from him.

dressed in soft whites, you could have been mistaken for heaven incarnate. homey and natural. he could tell you had gotten ready for him all on your own. your lips weren't as vibrant or glossy, your complexion not as uniform, and he adored it. you had braided a small section of your hair, it dangled forward as you buried your head in the menu. this was the version of yourself that you could control, that you had chosen, and you were giving it to sunghoon. just as pure, but in a different way. off the record honesty.

“may i take your order?”

sunghoon didn't miss how the waiter's gaze lingered on you before she looked to him, almost in confusion. in his dedication towards maintaining anonymity, his handsome face had been reduced to whatever existed below the nose. his navy blue yankees cap cast a deep shadow over his eyes, as though they had been censored. he was simply a mouth. pink lips and sharp teeth, ready to consume. it must have been a bizarre sight, this faceless man across from your beauty. he hoped it didn't look like you were for sale.

“could i just have a black coffee, please? thank you.”

as he spoke, his eyes remained on you. the menu had finally been lowered from your face, so he could once more admire it.

“may i please have a, uhm, a caramel macchiato? with– with chocolate chips, if that's okay,” you mumbled, focusing on your hands in your lap, “can i please, seonbae-nim?”

the quiver of your voice was sweeter than stevia. how you raised your eyes to him with a blink of curled eyelashes, nervously nibbling on your lip.

“of course, anything you like.”

his mouth wobbled as he responded, giddy grin breaking free. his words were sincere. once you decided that you wanted his heart, he would rip it right out and serve it to you on a rose gold platter. blood would pool around the main dish like strawberry syrup, and he would watch with eager eyes as you took the first taste. anything you needed, he would find a way to give it to you.

“thank you so much,” you bowed, returning his smile, “you're so kind to me.”

sunghoon leaned in as the waiter walked away. the beating of his heart had become a punching into his chest. grabbing his leg, he ran his hand up and down his thigh, trying to shake off the heat. warm breaths floated from his parted lips, and it felt like they were not returning. like he was suffocating.

“am i? how?”

“uhm, well, you're always helping me. you– you were patient when filming content with me. i wouldn’t have been able to do the broadcast without you,” you admitted, thighs rubbing as you shifted awkwardly, “and now you're treating me to coffee. i'm so grateful to you.”

when his grin could grow no larger, laughter was sunghoon's next reaction.

“you're too cute, do you know that? if you like me that much, we should just become friends.”

you blinked with a warm face. caught off guard by his compliment, you shook your head only after processing it.

“really? i'm– i'm not, but thank you. i would be, uh, really happy if you were my friend.”

your voice lowered as you continued, “i don't really have any. my members don't– they don't like me a lot.”

the moment you revealed that, his smile dropped.

“how could they not like you?”

“they think… that i did stuff. to get in the group, i mean. because i'm– i’m not as good as them. i can't really sing like yoona or dance like mina. i'm, uh, a disappointment.”

almost as if to punctuate your point, your drinks were set onto the table with an audible ‘clink’. you took a picture for calorie tracking and– though the conversation topic had rid you of your appetite– you lowered your head and wrapped your lips around the green straw buried in whipped cream. sweet vanilla and espresso rushed through the tube into your waiting mouth. you smiled when the taste hit your tongue.

across from you, sunghoon's cup remained untouched as steam rose from the deep brown liquid. his mouth was a straight line and his brows were brought low above his eyes. he would have been in awe of your adorable reaction, were it not for what you had just said. his blood was cold and he was ready to spill someone else’s.

“are they bullying you? what do you mean by ‘stuff'? do they think that you're a whore?”

your eyes widened, both at sunghoon's rapid-fire questions and his blunt language. you stared at him with the straw still between your lips.

“is that why you hesitated to come out with me, you thought they would bully you more?”

“no, no! it's not like that. i understand them. they can't see why i… they don't think there's anything special about me. they're right, anyways.”

“they're dead wrong. look at me,” he demanded and you obeyed, “don't listen to anything they tell you, it's just jealousy. do you understand? from now on, you talk to me instead.”

his pull was undeniable, how his mouth stretched as he spoke and his fist above the table. you nodded once. then you continued as if in endless agreement. you promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry, but water had already gathered in your eyes. he waited for it to spill over and wet your pretty face.

-♡-

as agreed over text, you waited for sunghoon outside of a jung district cinema by three in the afternoon. it felt dangerous with how sunlight shone onto you like a spotlight. big, cat eye sunglasses covered nearly half your face, and besides, you weren't popular enough for anyone to recognise. not yet, but you would make it someday. the aches in your joints and every shed tear would be worth it, when you had an entire stadium screaming for you. one day, you would be surrounded by love and support. fans could be family, right?

he was almost covered from head to toe, but you knew it was him in an instant. black hair beneath the brim and the elf-like pinkish ears sticking out, even the length of his neck was familiar to you. his shirt was a size too large. loose by his waist, but clinging a little tighter by the chest. a fraction of his slender fingers peaked out of his long, draping sleeves. the wind hit your face as you rushed over to him.

“hey,” he greeted, cheeks dimpled by his sweet smile, “you look nice.”

“ah? uhm, thank you,” you murmured with relief.

it took you hours to get ready, so you were more than glad to hear that. you were ready to regret the skirt you wore, baby pink and polka-dotted, cute but a bit too short. if sunghoon liked it, however, you loved it.

as they were barely covered by the tiny length of fabric, sunghoon struggled to keep his eyes off of your legs. all that warm skin and flesh, too spotless for him to defile with touch or lingering gazes. he fixed his eyes on your face, the only view better than that of your legs.

“let's go inside, the movie starts soon.”

he interlocked your pinky finger with his and led you into the building. you shifted in guilt as he ordered your tickets and snacks, but he was your elder and you were in debt to your label until your group paid off the cost of debuting. it only made sense for him to pay, despite your embarrassment over it.

“here, for you.”

sunghoon handed you a bucket of popcorn with one hand. two thousand calories of heated kernels. you trapped the striped box between your chest and forearm, not wanting to stop the minimalist hand-holding between yourself and sunghoon. the scents of salt, caramel, and buttery goodness all wafted up into your nostrils. they left a pleased look on your face as the two of you walked to room four of the cinema.

your eyes landed on sunghoon’s profile as starting advertisements were screened. you followed the steep slope of his nose bridge, the heart-like curve of his lips, his angular jaw and the protruding adam’s apple it connected to. it became clear to you that you would never again see beauty like his. you were nervous to talk to anyone, but it was daunting just to look at him. close to exhilarating.

sunghoon let you stare. you could be infatuated with him how he was with you. like nothing else was worth seeing. when you were invested enough in the film, he would be staring, too. he plunged his fingers into the popcorn bucket, smell and sound increasing as the grains shuffled around, then brought one to your mouth. there was salt on your lips and sunghoon didn’t smile until he heard that satisfying crunch.

“is it good?”

as you looked at him in his ecstasy, you found it kind of funny how he had fang-like canines, yet front teeth like a bunny’s, like some dental contradiction. you wondered when you had started to notice things like that. sunghoon took your smile as confirmation and fished out more popcorn for you. his finger pads were wetted by the inside of your lip. they felt natural in your mouth.

“mhm, yesh,” you hummed as his finger tugged down your lip. “it’s– it’s really good, hoon.”

he could have been the poster child for happiness with a smile like that. the type that thinned out his lips and eyes, mouth stretched so wide it contoured his cheekbones. you hadn’t even meant to call him that, but you were comfortable by his side. it felt safe, and you beamed back at him.

-♡-

the lies were getting outrageous now. you knew that your staff knew you and sunghoon were cozying up to each other. you were too dressed up for each ‘supermarket visit’ and seemed too giddy for someone who was meant to go see a movie alone. had you forgotten they had your location? then, the cherry on your cake of bullshit, the photos.

you were naïve to assume no one cared enough about you to snap pictures. sunghoon's caps and masks may have been a sufficient disguise from outsiders, but overzealous fans and anyone within the company could recognise him from the photos. it was good publicity, however, so no one interrupted. sunghoon was great for your image. made people take notice of you, brought out the most marketable aspect of your personality– the innocent shyness.

it was trickier in sunghoon's case, given the possessive nature of his fanbase, but he seemed fit to handle himself. he knew how to act to keep everyone happy, knew how he needed to present your relationship with him. he had simply adopted his cute junior and was being the mentor that he never had as a beginner. never mind his lack of denial towards any romantic speculation, he knew that it was simply better to exercise silence in those cases. wait for the rumours to fizzle out on their own. so long as funeral wreaths weren't yet sent to the company building, staff figured they could let you two play.

-♡-

it was six in the morning. sunghoon was on his phone as he brushed his teeth– a bad habit he recently picked up– scrolling on an online forum for your group. he was almost robotic, swiping until he saw your face, your cute face. it was obvious why you had been nicknamed ‘milk kitty’, stupid and accurate. you were pure and skittish. shaking like milk and he had to see you again.

he brushed until his toothpaste lost taste, foam running down his arm, hand cramping up the slightest bit. his gums had started bleeding. he just wanted to see one more post about you. one more capture of your smiling face, and he could leave the sink.

-♡-

aside from your members, you saw park sunghoon more than anyone else these days. he would take you out for coffee, dressed inconspicuously each time. talking about mundane stuff like english lessons and new choreographies, you would swirl your delicious, caffeine-filled caramel treat before indulging. never mind how your manager didn't approve of the excess two hundred and fifty calories. you could always skip dinner, and sunghoon said you'd burn them off as you walked from place to place to meet him. cafés, concerts, cinemas, you saw him so often it was as if the two of you were…

“your perfume,” he muttered, voice drowned out by the racing rain. it was a sudden downpour, unpredicted by the weather forecasts you always checked before making a plan. in the few times you could meet up, it would be a shame for the weather to squander them. you had found cover under the slanted ceramic roof of a brick building. it looked abandoned. your back was against the coarse wall– you would be damned to mess up your hair– and sunghoon stood at your front. he shielded you from any rain the wind could blow your way.

“did you change your perfume?”

unlike you, sunghoon's hair was soaked through. he had given you his baseball cap in an effort to protect the hair you had so cutely styled for him. the water had dyed his hair strands a deeper black, tendrils of shadow flat against his cheeks and nose. water dripped down from the ends of his hair, and transparent droplets freckled his face. his focus was solely on you despite this.

“uh, yeah. i did,” you confirmed, “i used the old one pretty often, didn't– didn't want it to get stale. they're both pretty, uhm, pretty similar though.”

grabbing your forearms, he leaned in closer to your voice as you spoke. that was what you thought, until his head was a mere centimetre from your neck. your skin felt his shaky breaths and the beads of water that fell from him onto the shoulder that your sweater left exposed. he savoured your scent with each intake of breath.

you didn't tilt your head. you watched how the outside world had become a grey haze behind pouring rain and wondered if you would see the sun again soon. if maybe it could be okay for you to be with sunghoon.

“this one's less lactonic,” he noted, voice tickling your wet skin, “where's my milk kitty?”

he must have had a good nose, you thought. his remark would have made you giggle, but there was something heavier than the rain and it was in your heart.

“hey, hoon.”

your speech faltered each time you addressed him informally, but there were few things that made him happier than your doing that. you remembered in detail how his smile would grow until his nose scrunched and his fangs were visible. his joy was your validation, so you continued,

“do you… uhm…”

you blamed your loss of focus on the fact you could feel each breath he took against your skin. your hands trembled at your sides and you clenched them as if that would give you courage.

“do you like– like me?”

the blowing of air onto your shoulder ceased. his grip was starting to hurt, then he let go. sunghoon's figure grew to its full height as he lifted his head. his face seemed even wetter than it had been, before you found shelter from the rain, and there was a smile beneath his flushed nose.

“don't you know i'm your biggest fan? i admire you more than anyone else.”

-♡-

comeback season meant he would have no time to sleep, no time to breathe, and– worst of all– no time for you. waking up at five, back in bed past midnight. between dance rehearsals, recording sessions, and content creation, sunghoon had forgotten how it felt to be without a headache. it was unscientific, like washing his hands three times for good luck, but sunghoon swore you were the only cure. besides his painkillers, of course.

he texted you whenever he could, shrugging off remarks from his members about how he had become glued to his phone lately. bliss was when you texted him back. he savoured your every word, waited for it to travel from his expanded pupils to his quivering heart. the rosy muscle where he lodged his thoughts and love for you. sunghoon struggled to fathom how he lived before you came into his life. he thought that maybe he simply hadn’t been living at all.

the few times where he could get away from the noise, in the bathroom or his bedroom, he would hold you with unmoving eyes. yours did not move either, could not, considering how you were simply a photograph. still, as sunghoon surveyed the picture beneath the led light glare being cast onto its plastic cover, he could catch wind of your scent. like chamomile or lavender, he breathed you in and was calm. though his clammy hands would beg to differ, though his heart could not beat any quicker, sunghoon was calm.

you were his escape from every stressful moment. his warm glass of milk before bed and anything else. he couldn’t bear to have you out of his reach. he would rather curl his fingers around the cup and squeeze until it shattered, the warmth of your liquid coating him as his hand bled. sunghoon wondered what kind of colour it made, when pure white washed over dirty red.

he reminded himself that soon, freedom would belong to him as much as you did. thinking of your modest smile gave him the strength to wait once more to see you.

-♡-

in its glory of seventeen square metres, your studio apartment was nothing to scoff at. for only three hundred thousand won a month, you could live like a queen with air conditioning and even a washing machine! you had spent a ridiculous amount of time saving up for this treasure. but for some odd reason, as you re-arranged the pillows on your floor mattress, you felt ashamed knowing that sunghoon would be knocking at your door soon.

you thought maybe it would be better to show him the more charming aspects of jungnang district, like the rose garden or the dongbu market, anything was better than the glorified prison cell you called home. but the hell in prison was other people. at least here, you were safe from the vitriol of your members and staff. you questioned when their mild disdain for you grew into hatred. was it when you started seeing sunghoon? your phone buzzed and you rushed to the sink to pick it up. it was a text from him.

‘i’m here.’

you patted down your outfit as you stood waiting for him at the wood door. you had not yet grown used to it. he knocked and you answered. there was no need for anonymity in this space with only the two of you. he was his uncovered self, raw for you.

“uh, welcome,” you muttered.

he could see the whole apartment from one step inside. you trusted him enough to invite him over to this place that was just for you. the whole place smelled like you. he wished the smell could condense into a liquid so he could drink you right up, feel the sweet milk flow over his tongue. sunghoon surrounded you with his big arms and pulled you in until your face hit his chest. you melted into him, breathing in the earth and timber and sweat. you were right where you belonged. your heart deflated when he finally pulled back.

“is this it?”

he stepped further inside, dropping onto your mattress with a slight bounce. the force made your pillows shake. upon a second glance, sunghoon noticed how your current attire contrasted with everything else he had seen you in.

“hey, you look different,” he voiced, his eyes raking over you. sheer black socks that stretched up to your thighs and black lace garters to match. your top was low cut, clinging to your torso, and even your makeup seemed more intense. ‘different’ was an understatement, you were someone else entirely. he wondered if you were coming on to him.

“do you– do you like it, hoonie?”

that was new. this was all new. sunghoon froze as you fell beside him on the mattress, your thigh pressed against his and his heart dropped. fuck, what was happening? he shut his legs and looked down at his lap. your fingers held his chin and you looked to him in expectation, wetting your plump lips. it was so hot in your apartment, like even the air he was breathing had been toasted and it kept cycling through his body, only getting warmer each time.

“does it, uhm, does it make you wanna t-touch me?”

“shit– what are you doing?”

you frowned and sunghoon cursed at how the sight made him even harder. this was so, so wrong. he had to be dreaming. lust-induced madness from his refusal to again defile you in his mind. guilt had been eating at him since then, screaming that even he didn’t deserve you, but he didn’t want to listen.

“you don’t like it? it’s, uh, it’s c-four’s next concept,” you explained, avoiding his gaze and the shame in your belly, “something cool and, uhm, sexy.”

sunghoon was facing double disappointment as he looked down at his damp palms. in himself, for his dry mouth and leaking tip, and in your label. were they really just going to hand you out in lingerie on a silver platter for any pervert to enjoy?

“no,” he replied, shaking his head, “no, you can’t do it. you’re too young.”

you were his peace. you were his innocent, pure milk, free from the permanent stains of immorality. he would not let anyone ruin your image. he thought of those old creeps and their limp dicks, salivating over all the skin you would expose to them. he thought of all the degenerates waiting to call you a whore, wanting you to be one for them. he would rather die than let you grant their filthy wishes.

“it’s, uh, not really– not really my choice,” you mumbled, quiet voice interwoven with concern, “are you mad at me?”

all his anger vanished once you said that, like you had taken a syringe and drawn out all his boiling blood.

“no, no, angel,” he murmured, pulling you into him once again, “i’ll never be mad at you, okay?”

sunghoon held you close and contemplated on what he could do with his rage, on how he could save you. he would redeem the both of you, keep you far from the fatal clutches of debauchery.

-♡-

sunghoon had not turned on his laptop in weeks. he was scared of what he would see. any discussion about c-four’s imminent comeback would make him sick to his stomach. snippets of songs with lyrics that swam in a sea of sexuality. they were really going to take you away from him, turn you into someone unrecognisable. sunghoon kept growing more anxious, knowing that this would happen, clutching his pillow as his head spun. he could hardly catch any rest, and he regretted the times when he did.

there was no greater torment than thoughts one could not control. the dreams had only gotten more vivid as time counted down. behind heavy eyelids, he had visions of dirty hands on you. a trail of mud from your breasts to your thighs. it was the day of your comeback and you squirmed as they tore off your trampy clothes. they would surround you like flies on a slab of meat, until you were nothing but the pile of bodies crawling on top of you. sunghoon would jolt awake, chest heaving and perspiration running down his brows, and pray to never fall back asleep. not when all he could see was your dim fate. the fate he had to save you from, but he was running out of time.

sunghoon limped out of bed and into the kitchen, as quiet as death. he pulled open the medicine cabinet and used his phone’s flashlight to see through the darkness, squinting as he pushed containers aside until he could grab what he needed. what both of you did.

clutching them tight, he shook the bottles to remind himself of the weight they held. his insomnia medication and the painkillers he started buying when tour lengths had stretched from months to over a year. back then, he didn’t even have you to lift his spirits. all he had were these white tablets. they had proved their use once and he knew that they could be useful again. they were the key to your escape. sunghoon loved you enough to save you from destruction, because he loved you more than anything. purity was delicate, he reminded himself, so he could not let your soul be tainted.

sunghoon was stumbling, yet determined, as he escaped from the dormitory. he breathed in the crisp breeze and savoured the bright orange city lights of seoul as he waited with his arm out, until a taxi passed by. he paid the high fare for his late-night drive and was then on his way to jungnang district. he did not sleep in the car as the adrenaline kept him awake, though it felt like his eyes were burning.

-♡-

it was past your bed time as you tried to like what you saw in the mirror, under the sterile lights of your apartment. the maturity of your tight-fitting clothes and the sensuality of this new aesthetic. you were supposed to get comfortable in it before going on stage. it would make it easier to really sell the fantasy, but it felt like a stranger’s skin.

you jumped at the door’s creaking. had you left it unlocked? you saw sunghoon step inside and wondered when surprise visits had become a thing between you and him. maybe he had come to cheer you on? after all, your comeback stage was tomorrow. all your weeks of training would come to fruition in less than twenty-four hours. you weren’t sure if your stomach churned from excitement or fear.

“suh… sunghoon,” you gasped, “i wasn’t expecting you at all!”

you would have changed if you knew he would be coming. you were already feeling embarrassed, remembering what had transpired the last time he saw you in these clothes. what were you thinking, trying to get into your idol character like that? it wasn’t as if making a move on him would transform you into this confident being who was ready to strut around in skimpy clothes like this. you still weren’t mentally prepared for tomorrow.

“sorry, i just needed to see you.”

the words would have felt romantic if not for that look on his face, like there was nothing behind his eyes. he walked over to you and you waited for his embrace. it never came.

“are you ready for tomorrow,” he asked and, as he spoke, you glanced at the small orange jars in his hands. strange candy.

“no, not– not really,” you confessed, “can i be, uhm, honest with you?”

he nodded without the smile you had grown to expect from him, wordlessly. his calm was disquieting. for a man who had showed up at your place out of the blue, he didn’t even seem to have a real reason to do so.

“i, uh… sunghoon, it’s not me.”

your voice cracked. you thought your heart had done the same. you blinked quickly and water flowed down from your eyes.

“it’s not me, it’s not me,” you repeated, holding him as you sobbed, “i don’t wanna do this. they’re all gonna… gonna laugh at me and– and my family, what will they think? it’s not like they ever… ever approved of this. it’s– they’ll really give up on m-me after this. i’m not… they all call me a slut, but it’s– it’s not true. it’s not me!”

you could not hear the sound of bottles opening nor the pills being shaken out of them due to your wailing. you only looked up when your cries had softened into small sniffles. you weren’t sure why, but sunghoon was smiling.

he grabbed your jaw and you were ready to finally have your first kiss. by now, however, you should have known that you could not predict sunghoon at all.

like a modern retelling of your first cinema date, sunghoon’s fingers pushed past your lips. deeper, deeper, brushing your tonsils and hitting the back of your throat. you gagged around them, rejecting the intrusion and the bitter taste of the thick tablets that rushed down your oesophagus. you heaved in an effort to get them out, but sunghoon only pushed them further back down, his hand trembling in your mouth.

“shh, baby, shh. i’ll fix it, okay? i’m going to fix it all.”

his saliva-coated fingers pulled out of your mouth and you gasped and coughed with a pounding heart. it hurt. your chest hurt like he had punched it, your mouth was sore from how sunghoon had violated it, your throat felt clogged.

“what did–” you hacked and spit ran down your chin. “–did you do?!”

your tiny pupils witnessed as sunghoon poured the remaining pills into his mouth and swallowed. his skin glistened from its dampness and his fingers uncurled around the bottles. they both clattered on the floor, a dull noise sounding through the hollow plastic.

“it’s not gonna hurt, it’s okay,” sunghoon assured, his calm expression unwavering even as his eyelids grew heavy.

the world was spinning and you stumbled towards whatever could support your weight. as you gripped the counter and hunched over it, you felt sunghoon’s arms wrapping around you. he planted warmth on your temple with a kiss, what you'd been waiting for, and his voice was muffled by the sound of your slowing heartbeat. you heard him as you went limp and the world faded to black.

“i don’t think i ever told you properly, but… i like you.”

it felt nice for him to finally tell you his feelings, but he was sure it had been obvious for some time now. sunghoon smiled wider to himself, relieved that he had saved you from corruption, then he was soon by your side on the floor. it didn’t hurt when his body hit the hard wood. it only felt like peace.

for the first time, he was next to you and his heart was not racing. even the condensation on his skin had dried. your cold bodies sprawled out beside the mattress in one perfectly still and dry moment, its purity preserved eternally. because love was forever, and there was nothing in the world purer than love.

DELUXE CONTENT ! ( pure smut is my apology for the trauma ) wc 1766 Bonus Scene: "Does it make you wanna touch me?"

“shit, yeah, it does,” sunghoon confessed, eyes lowering from your face, those lips begging for his kisses, to the curve of your breasts. you had never been like this before and he was almost tempted to pinch himself, but he was even more tempted by you. he was not self-loathing enough to willingly wake up from his own fantasy. if this was all in his head, then it wouldn’t matter what he did to you.

“okay,” you breathed, close enough for him to feel it on his warm skin, “i, uh, i want you to. please?”

sunghoon couldn’t believe you were asking, he should have been the one begging for just one taste of heaven from you. he enveloped your thigh with his large hand, brought you into his lap, and made your lips pucker by grabbing your face.

“have you ever done this before?”

it was silly of him to ask, he knew that, but he wanted to hear you say it. wanted it to come from your mouth, not online speculation, that he was the only one who got to do this to you. the one who got to stain you with his dirty love.

“um, no, never,” you admitted, biting your lip as you looked away, “it’s only you, hoon.”

there you went with that nickname again. you played the role of a seductress too easily. your front teeth sunk into your lip, fanning eyelashes that accentuated the innocent beauty of your face, your skin that was smooth and untouched. he would abandon everything he believed in just to have you right now.

his palm rubbed your thigh as his other hand cupped your chin. teasing you, his lips met the tip of your nose, your cheek, and the corner of your mouth before he kissed you properly. it was such a struggle not to dive in immediately. he focused on the cherry taste of your lip gloss with closed eyes, let the weight of this moment sink into him.

“you’re so sweet,” he hummed, his tongue giving kitten licks to your lips until they opened. the hand, which before held your chin, slid down to the base of your neck. his thumb applied a little pressure onto your throat. you shifted on his thigh, gasping softly as he explored your mouth. the cotton material of your underwear, overwhelmed and softened by your arousal, clung tighter to the shape of your pussy as you moved. it was like you could feel him directly.

“fuck, baby, don’t do that,” sunghoon rasped, “it’s distracting. i want to make this last.”

sunghoon could never be ungrateful. in the moment that he had been waiting for, he couldn’t rush through it as if it meant nothing. you were finally his and it was beyond anything he had imagined in the past. vivid, tangible. his fingers pinched the fabric of your socks. he stretched them tight before letting it snap back onto your flesh, below your garter, the sting making you wince.

“sorry,” you whimpered, your lips still touching his, “can you, uh, touch me more, please?”

“attagirl,” he praised, “asking me so nicely. i'll give you what you need, okay?”

you were pushed down into the mattress after his hands landed on your shoulders, his tongue delving back into your mouth as he began to push his hips against yours. feeling his hard dick rub you through your clothes had you gasping. your fingers sunk into his smooth black hair. without meaning to, you tugged a tuft of it and he whimpered into your mouth.

“ah, fuck… can’t wait anymore,” he whined as he pulled his face back from yours, your lips making a soft sound after disconnecting. as you swallowed, you wondered if it was sunghoon’s spit going down your throat.

despite the inconvenience, he wanted to keep you in these clothes. the longer he saw you in them, the longer it would stay in his memory. this day that he never, never wanted to forget. the day you gave yourself to him in full. he stuck his hand beneath your skirt and pulled down your underwear. the black fabric hung from his fingers as he inspected it with furrowed brows.

“a thong?”

“i, uh… i thought it fit the vibe,” you mumbled, with a flustered pout, and he forced down his laughter. he couldn’t mock you for trying to be sexy, not when it was clearly working on him.

sunghoon lifted your skirt for a better view of your wet pussy. he spread the lips with two fingers, watching your viscous arousal flow out. he bit his tongue, scared he would bury his head between your thighs and never leave. your needy cry of his name told him his plans would have to wait for another day.

“h-hoon, please…”

he could admit that he loved hearing you beg, loved how you were his docile doll. you heeded his every word, and he could never tell you no. you were tethered to one another by devotional love.

“aw, does it hurt, angel? do you want me to make it feel good?”

as you nodded, sunghoon was already unzipping his pants. he knew it was cruel to not prepare you properly, but it was also cruel for him to ignore his own need. the need that had been throbbing in his pants for the past few minutes, leading to him making a mess in his boxers. he pulled out his dick and finally let it breathe. thick and heavy in his hand. it was angry after being left unattended for so long, so the tip had flushed red.

sunghoon spread your pretty legs and bunched your skirt up further, gripping the folds of fabric in one hand as he admired the view of his dick brushing against your pussy lips, being bathed in your cream.

“breathe,” he guided, pushing the tip inside.

your mouth fell open from the stretch, no air escaping as he pushed in deeper. you struggled to welcome his size, your hands scratching at his back. sunghoon let you take him slowly, let his dick brush past every ridge, until it could go no further.

“there you go,” he groaned, hypnotised by the tight squeeze of your hole, “can i move now– shit!”

he willed himself not to cum when you clenched around him, your body still trying to adjust. sweat from his efforts travelled down the slope of his nose, dripping down onto your face.

“uh, wait,” you asked, not yet used to the stretch of having his dick inside of you, your slick spurting onto it.

“o-okay, i think it’s okay now.”

sunghoon was slow to pull out, but quick to push back in. he set this fast rhythm, pounding into you as you gasped. he was able to thrust into you at the perfect angle each time, your cries of his name only getting louder each time. it hurt so sweet, your legs around his waist as you drew him in even closer, tension in your bulging womb.

“you feel so good, baby, so damn tight. do you like it?”

“uh huh,” you whined, your hand going to his hair as you pulled him in for more kisses. you were greedy for him.

there was no particular taste, just the feeling of his mouth’s textures and the remnants of your cherry lip gloss, but it was warm. your whole body was hot. the cool feel of sweat forming hung above your forehead.

sunghoon broke the kiss to see your breasts better after they had spilled out of the tiny top you wore, shaken free as your body experienced the force of his thrusts. his mouth latched onto one, his wet tongue attacking your nipple, and pushed down lightly on your stomach’s bulge. your hoarse throat struggled to carry your scream.

“ah– ah– sunghoon, wait!”

he didn’t listen. he had to be fair, giving equal attention to both of the stiff peaks, not letting up until they were both covered in his saliva. as you jolted from your sensitivity, you only pushed more of your cleavage into his mouth. he bit down, and you squeezed his dick so hard that he shuddered. you felt it building up inside of you, your need for release.

“stop,” you warned, drool flowing from the corner of your mouth, “i think– i think i’m gonna pee…”

you tried to see him through the curtain of your lashes as your eyes closed, thighs squeezing around his waist. the man who said he would be your friend, who admired you above everyone else, who was moulding your insides to his shape. you welcomed him even deeper as your arousal reached its limit, feeling almost like he was tearing you apart, your mouth widening in tandem. your tongue peaked out from between your swollen lips.

“that’s good, angel,” sunghoon coaxed, “let it happen. let me make you come.”

he kept pumping his dick into you, kept stimulating your breasts with his tongue, and brought his fingers to play with your clit. your eyes rolled back as you screamed his name, your orgasm crashing over you. you looked precious as it happened, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. sunghoon knew he didn’t deserve this, but it was his anyways. if he’d already gone this far, why not go all the way?

“tell me i don’t deserve you,” sunghoon panted, pushing his head into your neck until your scent flooded his senses. until everything besides you disappeared to a place his mind could not reach. all he could think of was you. your delicate fingers buried in his hair, your skin’s sweet taste on his tongue, your pretty pussy puffed up by him. enthralled by your beauty, sunghoon wondered what right a man had to fuck an angel.

“b-but you do deserve me, hoon,” you argued as his mean tongue lapped at the sensitive area above your pulse, forcing your clench around him to tighten. when everyone else had rejected you, you had sunghoon’s love. he was even more than your friend, more than your admirer, he was your family.

“you’re the only man for me.”

sunghoon let out a groan as he pushed in until he hit your cervix, let his hot cum fill you up. now, he had ruined you properly. he looked down from your glowing face to where your pussy was plugged up by his dick. sunghoon surveyed your body as it shuddered from the aftershocks and, amidst the mix of fluids that flowed down his length from your hole, he was not satisfied until he spotted that unmistakable red.

okay that's it !! thank you so much for reading all the way to the end, i love you with all my heart. i hope you rlly rlly rlly rlly REALLY liked it !! mwah ^.^

💌 : @tojiworshipper this one is heavy >.> but i think play pretend was worse so u'll be fine hehe. enjoy my love ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

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