— where you and your boyfriend seungkwan decides to drink the gift minghao have bought in bali.
WARNINGS: +18, smut, penetrative sex, a lot of heat, body fluids (cum, sweat, spit), dirty talk.
you remember the way minghao fucking laughed when he handed you that little box, all mysterious and smug. “nah, it doesn’t even work,” he’d said, looking way too pleased with himself as he set it down on the counter. you and seungkwan had both laughed too, brushing it off as some cheap-ass souvenir he got from bali, just another inside joke to share with your friends later. you remember you and seungkwan glancing at each other, curiosity buzzing between you two, but like… whatever, right? couldn’t hurt to try.
except now, you’re thinking, fuck minghao.
like seriously, fuck him.
because you’re here, drenched in sweat despite the air conditioner blasting on the lowest setting, skin sticking to seungkwan’s as you grind down on his lap like you’ve lost all sense of fucking control. and yeah, you kinda have, haven’t you? you can’t even keep your thoughts straight, his cock is buried so deep inside you, throbbing and wet from how many times he’s already cum, how many times you’ve already cum.
“fuck, why is it so fucking hot?” seungkwan grits out under you, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave bruises, not that you give a shit. the bed’s fucking soaked, sweat mixing with slick and spit and whatever the hell else that fucking potion is doing to your bodies. it’s like… it’s almost like you’re burning from the inside out, every nerve on fire, every touch setting you both off like it’s your first time all over again.
“i swear to god, i’m gonna kill minghao,” you pant, pushing your hands flat against seungkwan’s chest as you bounce on him, feeling his cock hit that sweet spot inside you that’s got you rolling your eyes. “this is his fault—fuck, seungkwan—his fucking fault.”
he groans beneath you, head falling back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut like he’s trying to keep still, but you can feel him bucking up into you, thrusting harder like he can’t stop either. you both know this is fucked up, like your bodies aren’t even listening to your brains anymore, just locked into this endless, desperate rhythm, chasing that high again and again. you don’t even remember how many times you’ve cum at this point, but you can feel it—legs shaking, pussy clenching around him so tight you think you’re about to snap.
“i’m gonna fuck him up when this is over,” seungkwan growls, fingers digging into your ass now, pulling you down harder onto him, making you cry out. “fucking… stupid fucking potion—shit, y/n, you’re so fucking tight, so hot—fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum again.”
you lean down, chest pressed to his, sweat-slick skin sliding against his as you move. “do it, please, I fucking need it!” you whisper, voice wrecked from all the moaning, all the screaming his name earlier. you can’t even pretend to be teasing anymore, not when every nerve in your body is on overdrive. “cum for me again, baby. fill me up.”
that’s all it fucking takes. you feel him twitch inside you, his hips slamming up hard enough to make the bedframe creak, and then he’s spilling inside you, hot and thick, and the sensation makes you lose it too. your whole body tenses, and you collapse onto him as your orgasm rips through you, shaking and gasping as you milk him for everything he’s got.
for a minute, it’s like you both just… float there, bodies tangled together, coming down from the high but still not quite there, still needing more, still too hot, too wet, too fucking needy. you think maybe that’s it, maybe you can take a break, but then seungkwan shifts beneath you, pulling out with a slick, messy sound, and you feel his hands on your hips again, flipping you over onto your back like you weigh nothing.
“not done,” he mutters, voice rough as hell, he’s already getting hard again, his cock brushing against your thigh as he settles between your legs, lining himself up without even asking, not that you’d say no anyway. “need more, fuck, y/n, i need you.”
you barely get a chance to respond before he’s pushing back into you, slow at first, like he’s savoring the way you stretch around him again. but it doesn’t stay slow for long, because he’s just as fucked up from that potion as you are, just as desperate to keep going, to keep fucking until the heat burns itself out.
“fuck… fuck, seungkwan,” you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders as he starts to move, hard and fast and relentless. your body’s so fucking sensitive, every thrust hitting different, every drag of his cock making you want to scream. “i swear to god, when this is over, we’re never drinking anything he gives us again.”
he huffs a laugh, but it’s strained, his breath coming in heavy pants as he picks up the pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “no shit,” he mutters, dropping his head to press his lips to your neck, sucking a mark there that you’re definitely gonna have to explain later. “i can’t even fucking think right now.”
“you don’t have to think,” you tell him, voice all shaky and fucked out, hands sliding down his back to grab his ass, pulling him deeper into you. “just fuck me.”
and he does, he really fucking does. the bed’s rocking now, slamming against the wall with every thrust, and you’re both drenched in sweat, panting and swearing and cursing with every breath, but you don’t stop. you can’t. not when it feels this good, not when every time you think you’re done, another wave of heat crashes through you, making you both start up again.
you don’t know how long it goes on. you don’t even care anymore. you just keep moving together, fucking through the sweat and the heat and the endless, overwhelming need, chasing that high again and again until your bodies give out.
and when you finally collapse, tangled in each other, sticky and exhausted and completely spent, the only thing you can think is…
WARNINGS: +18, smut, halloween party both reader and hoshi are dressed as playboy bunny's, fingering, crying, penetrative sex, protected sex, all fours, riding, overstimulation, aftercare, mingyu give reader encouragement, crush!hoshi, squirting, he calls reader bunny.
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
“really playboy bunny? don’t you think this is too outdated?” you mutter, eyeing the little white pompom on your butt that sways every time you turn. you’re leaning forward at the mirror, tilting your head, lips pursed, wondering if this whole thing might just be too much. or maybe it’s not enough.
“y/n, every guy goes wild for this costume. it’s like... an unspoken rule.” mingyu’s sprawled across your bed, flicking through his phone, looking up just to roll his eyes. “especially if we’re talking about hoshi. dude practically loses his mind over anything with ears and a tail.”
you snort, shaking your head as you tug at the bodysuit, adjusting it for the hundredth time. “maybe he’ll just find it hilarious that i look like a bunny roadkill with ears sticking up like this.”
“nah, you look ridiculous in the best way.” he grins, propping himself up and giving you a once-over. “if you’re worried, i’ll lend you my jacket for the ride there. gotta protect my favorite attention magnet.”
that earns him a middle finger as you step back, but secretly, the idea of having mingyu’s huge jacket draped over you makes you feel a little more… armored. it’s one thing to strut around like this in the mirror, but another entirely when you’re gonna be walking into a party full of his friends, all of whom you know aren’t above throwing a snarky comment or two.
the cab ride to the party is a whole other level of weird. mingyu’s jacket hangs heavy on you, smelling like his cologne, like he’s smothering you in that woodsy scent that, admittedly, is kinda comforting. “feel like i’m cosplaying you,” you laugh, crossing your legs and watching his reflection as he watches you.
“yeah, yeah, just wait till we get there. you’re gonna be the highlight of the night,” he says, leaning back, eyes on you, like he’s planning something you don’t know about yet.
finally, you’re standing outside the house party, which is already buzzing loud enough you can feel the bass thumping up through the driveway. you hesitate for a sec, knowing the second you step inside, that jacket’s coming off. mingyu nudges you with an elbow, grinning.
it’s like a reveal, honestly. the minute you slip out of his jacket, it’s a ripple effect—heads turning, eyes widening, and then, just for a sec, silence falls across the group near the door. like the scene pauses for just one breath, and then someone’s like, “oh damn, y/n really came out tonight.”
mingyu just rolls his eyes and puts a hand on your shoulder, a little too casual, like he’s trying to ground you. “get your eyes off my friend, you creeps,” he laughs, but there’s a glint of pride there too, like he’s proud he dragged you out of your comfort zone.
and that’s when you see him—hoshi. he’s across the room, talking to some guy, laughing, and it takes you a second to realize he’s wearing…
bunny ears too.
only hoshi would have the audacity to go full playboy bunny, with the bow tie and all, shirtless, and he’s grinning, completely unbothered, his gaze wandering until he finally, finally spots you.
his grin freezes, and there’s a split second where you see his eyes drag down from your ears to your bodysuit, to the pompom swaying on your butt, and then back up to meet your eyes. and the look he gives you? god, it’s something straight out of a bad rom-com. he’s laughing, clearly in disbelief, mouthing something like “no way,” shaking his head. but then he just goes, “y/n? really?” crossing the room, and the grin on his face makes you feel like maybe you’ve outdone yourself.
“don’t laugh!” you say, smirking, and crossing your arms, even though the movement makes your boobs practically spill out of the bodysuit.
there’s no denying hoshi’s gaze keeps wandering, landing just below your face, like he’s trying not to be obvious about it and failing spectacularly.
his eyes are practically sparkling, and he’s already pulling you in, wrapping his arms around you in that way only he does, with that ridiculous amount of warmth and ease.
“you look insane!” he murmurs, his lips brushing your cheek as he plants a quick kiss there, his bare chest pressing against you. you barely have a moment to react before mingyu’s strolling up behind him, still holding that jacket he promised, but instead of handing it to you, he pauses, raises a brow, and gives hoshi a smirk. then, without missing a beat, he does the oldest, dirtiest gesture in the book—index finger slipping through a circle he makes with his other hand, his eyes meeting yours with this knowing, wicked look. and god, you can feel the heat rush straight to your cheeks.
hoshi chuckles, and he glances back at mingyu, he catches it, and his eyes go wide, cheeks flushing in that cute, bashful way that’s so him. “mingyu, dude, could you be more obvious?” he laughs.
“i mean, come on,” mingyu shrugs, crossing his arms and nodding at you. “you don’t get all dolled up like this for no reason, right? thought you might as well go all the way.”
you laugh, nudging hoshi’s shoulder as he pulls back slightly, still not quite letting go. “yeah, yeah, keep it up, mingyu, and i’ll start charging for every stare you throw my way.”
hoshi grins, leaning in closer, his voice dropping a little. “they might actually make some cash tonight,” he teases, nudging your hip playfully looking at his friends in the corner, his gaze still locked on yours, even as mingyu scoffs and steps back, giving you both a moment of space.
“oh, please, hoshi,” you mutter, trying to keep your equilibrium. “you’re staring just as much as they are, don’t even pretend.”
“can you blame me?” he says, eyes drifting down before they snap back up to yours. “i mean, i didn’t expect this level of… commitment,” he smirks, giving you an exaggerated once-over, his fingers toying with the little bit of fluff on your bunny ears. “you’re really going all in, huh?”
“well, it was either this or come as a pirate,” you reply, shrugging, though you’re hyper-aware of how close he is. “but i figured you’d like this more.”
he raises an eyebrow, leaning in even closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper, “oh, i do. believe me. i mean, you’re practically a professional bunny now. we might have to get you a part-time gig at some club or something.”
“ha! you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you tease back, nudging him, but your voice has this slight waver that you can’t quite control, because he’s watching you with this intent, focused look, like he’s memorizing every little detail.
“you have no idea,” he murmurs, the look in his eyes suddenly serious, like he’s not even joking. he lets his gaze linger on you, his teeth pulling at his bottom lip just slightly, and it’s impossible to ignore the warmth blooming in your chest.
“are you gonna keep staring all night, or do i get to enjoy this party?” you finally say, raising an eyebrow, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
he grins, leaning back just slightly, though his hand finds your waist, steadying you as the crowd around you shifts. “oh, i’ll stop staring, sure—right after i get my dance,” he says, voice playful again, but his eyes are still so fixed on you. “come on, you owe me one for showing up looking like that.”
“oh, you think i owe you?” you laugh, folding your arms, but before you know it, hoshi’s pulling you toward the dance floor, his hand warm on your back, guiding you through the crowd. he’s animated, so full of energy, laughing and joking as he leads you, and there’s this playful tension between you, like he’s daring you to match his pace.
once you’re in the thick of it, surrounded by bodies moving and music thumping, he spins you around, catching you off guard as he pulls you closer, his hands landing on your hips. “so… what’s the story here?” he says, voice hardly audible over the music, but his eyes are sparkling with curiosity. “is this all for fun, or is there, i don’t know, something more going on?”
“hoshi, please,” you roll your eyes, though you’re grinning, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning into him. “you really think i’d go through all this trouble for just anyone?”
he laughs, clearly pleased with himself, and there’s this smug little tilt to his smile. “so… just for me, then?” he raises an eyebrow, and you can tell he’s enjoying this way too much, practically reveling in it.
“maybe,” you shrug, though you’re fully aware of how close his hands are to the edge of your bodysuit, and the way his thumbs trace small circles on your waist is definitely not helping your focus. “guess you’ll have to keep wondering.”
“oh, that’s cold, y/n...” he says, laughing.
the music’s pulsing, and after a couple more songs, you’re breathless, finally pulling back just a little to catch your breath. “so… you planning on letting me go any time soon?” you say, grinning up at him.
hoshi just shakes his head, his hand holding onto yours and tugging you back in. “you think i’m letting someone as hot as you walk around here alone?” he says, pouting a little, his gaze dipping over you one more time, like he can’t help himself. you laugh, rolling your eyes, but it doesn’t stop that little thrill in your chest, the way he looks at you.
it’s around then that you feel a light tap on your shoulder, and when you turn, chan’s there, his usual grin stretched wide. “hey, y/n,” he greets, eyes flicking over to hoshi before he gently nudges him aside with a laugh. hoshi just shakes his head, moving back a bit, arms crossed as he watches, but that little smile doesn’t leave his face.
“hey, chan,” you say, leaning against the wall, still feeling that buzzing energy from dancing with hoshi. chan’s energy is a little lighter, a little easier, and it’s somehow refreshing. he leans close, resting one arm on the wall beside you, talking animatedly about something that happened earlier with mingyu, his other hand occasionally landing on your shoulder or arm. his fingers linger a little longer every time, but it’s friendly enough—though maybe a bit more touchy than usual.
you catch hoshi’s gaze from across the room, watching as his eyes narrow, the subtle flick of his jaw as he takes a long sip from his drink, looking way too calm. he’s still keeping that sharp eye on chan, like he’s waiting for him to do something worth stepping in for.
chan’s mid-sentence when you turn, pointing out the fluffy pompom on the back of your outfit. “look, they even gave me the tail and everything,” you laugh, turning slightly so he can see. chan’s grin widens, and he laughs, reaching out and squeezing the pompom gently with a playful chuckle.
he’s still laughing, his fingers tapping the fluffy tail, but your eyes slide over to hoshi again, and this time, he’s not sipping his drink anymore—he just downs what’s left in his cup, sets it aside, and begins walking toward you both. chan’s laugh stumbles a little as he catches sight of hoshi, and that easy confidence slips for just a second.
“hey, chan,” hoshi says, his voice light, though there’s a weight to it, an edge under the friendly tone. “mind if i steal y/n for a bit?”
chan gives a little nod, scratching his neck, though you can tell he’s unsure. “yeah, sure,” he says, stepping back, the wide smile he’d had now just a polite curve.
hoshi moves in, fingers finding your wrist, and he leans in close, his breath brushing your ear. “i’ll be waiting for you in my room,” he murmurs. he lets go of your wrist and heads toward the stairs, glancing back over his shoulder once before disappearing up them, leaving you rooted in place for a second.
“uh, sorry, chan,” you say, laughing a little to ease the tension, though your mind’s definitely upstairs now. chan brushes it off with a casual smile, telling you to go, and you slip through the crowd, making your way to the kitchen, where mingyu’s already there, nursing a drink.
you pull him to the side, leaning close. “emergency!,” you whisper, eyes wide. “hoshi told me to meet him in his bedroom.”
mingyu’s eyes go wide, practically bugging out of his head as he glances between you and the stairs. “are you serious?” he almost chokes, grinning like he’s the one who just got invited. “finally! no more listening to you go on about hoshi’s insane body and that stupid smirk he does. you elbow him, but he’s just laughing, a little too pleased about it. “so… what are you still doing here?” he says, lifting a brow. “need me to hold your hand up the stairs?”
“shut up!” you hiss, feeling the nerves hit you full force now that you’re actually thinking about it. “it’s… it’s hoshi, okay? i don’t just wanna walk up there like i’m—i don’t know, desperate or something.”
he rolls his eyes, shaking his head like you’re missing something obvious. “and you’re not desperate?” he says, giving you a look. “come on, this is the guy you’ve been daydreaming about. just go up there and knock his socks off!”
you hesitate, chewing your lip, and mingyu sighs, reaching around the counter, grabbing a bottle of tequila. he twists the cap, holding it up. “one shot for courage?” he grins, tipping the bottle towards your lips, and you let him pour, feeling the burn slide down your throat as you gulp it down.
“better?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows. he places his hands on your shoulders, giving you a small shake before he adjusts your bunny ears and fixes a few stray strands of hair.
you breathe out, nerves prickling along your skin, like you’re about to float right out of your body. “mingyu, if i faint, just drag me back down here, okay?” you half-joke, still clutching onto his arm.
he laughs, ruffling your hair again, “you’re not gonna faint. i’ll walk you to the first step though.” he gives you one last nudge, and you make it to the stairs, glancing back as he calls, “promise me you’re gonna leave this party still walking, yeah?”
you roll your eyes, giving him one last scolding look before climbing up. every step feels like a whole saga, until you’re finally at his door, just barely cracked open like it’s waiting for you. you press your fingers to the handle, steadying yourself before slipping inside and closing it gently behind you.
hoshi’s already sitting there on the edge of his bed, legs spread wide, hands braced behind him. his head’s tilted back, one brow raised with this faint smirk as he takes you in, the way your chest’s heaving just a bit too fast, cheeks already flushed. you try to calm your breathing, pressing your lips together to keep from biting them as you close the door clicking the door locked, fingers gripping the door handle as you stand there.
“c’mon, you don’t have to stand there looking all shy now,” he says, tapping his thigh, the grin on his face widening. “come here, bunny. this is what you came up here for, right?”
your heart races as you walk over, feeling every nerve in your body sparking up, and you place one knee beside him before swinging the other over so you’re straddling him, knees sinking into the bed on either side of his thighs. he settles his hands on your hips, pulling you down snug against him. you try to lean in, but he just leans back, grinning even wider.
“don’t be in such a rush,” he murmurs, his lips hovering just out of reach. “you’re already here, got all night.”
his fingers slide up your sides, over the curve of your waist, tracing every line slowly, he tilts his head, leaning closer to your neck, his breath brushing against your skin. you shiver, barely able to hold back a sigh as his lips graze your neck, soft, teasing.
“you know, i couldn’t even focus downstairs,” he murmurs against your skin, pressing a lingering kiss just below your ear. “every time i looked over, there you were… flaunting that little tail.” he chuckles lowly, the sound rumbling against your collarbone. “knew you’d come find me sooner or later.”
his hands trail down to your hips, squeezing just enough to make you feel it, but he still doesn’t kiss you, his mouth just brushing along your jaw, teasing. he’s watching every reaction, every twitch, like he’s got all the time in the world.
“you look too damn good,” he murmurs, hands sliding up to your waist again, thumbs brushing the fabric stretched tight. “been wanting to tell you that since you walked in.”
your hands slide over his shoulders, fingers curling into his skin, and you’re practically holding your breath, waiting for him to just close that last bit of space, to kiss you for real. but he just smirks, still dragging this out, his lips pressing another slow, hot kiss to your neck, then another, his hands tightening around you.
his fingers dip down, right between the base of your thighs, grazing that sensitive spot over your bodysuit. “oh, what’s this?” he hums, eyes glinting as his fingers press, right there, making you jump a little, gasping as he just laughs taunting. “nervous, bunny? you’ve been putting on quite the show tonight. kinda expected you to be ready for this.”
he brings his hand back up, dragging it slowly along the side of your thigh, back to where the tail rests. his fingers play with it, tugging gently, brushing against your skin through the fabric. “got you all dolled up like this, bouncing around with that little fluff. you know what that does to a guy?” he clicks his tongue, tilting his head and letting his mouth hover so close to yours that your lips practically ache, but just before you lean in, he pulls back, smirking when he sees you bite down on a whine.
“you want me to kiss you?” he teases, eyebrows quirking as his lips almost touch yours, only to pull back again. “look at you, bunny. i can feel you shaking, can practically see how bad you want it. all this fuss just to be up here in my lap, begging for it.” his eyes get that mischievous glint, watching you intently.
his hand drifts down again, his middle finger pressing between your thighs, applying just enough pressure through the thin fabric that you feel every inch of him pressing against you. you can’t hold back the soft whimper that escapes, your hips shifting as if you could get closer. “oh?” his voice is all smooth, leaning close, whispering in your ear as he chuckles. “think i feel something here. been this worked up for me all night, hm? tell me, bunny.”
he moves his hand just enough to pull the bodysuit aside, and his fingers brush against you, bare and wet, sensitive enough that the slightest touch makes your breath hitch. he pauses, lets out a soft groan, pulling back to look down at his fingers. “damn, you’re soaked.” he lifts his fingers to show you, glistening, and then lets them trail back down, tracing circles that make your legs tremble. “you weren’t kidding, were you? knew you wanted me bad, but this…” he laughs softly, his breath hot against your neck as he presses a kiss there. “never thought you’d be this needy.”
you try to stammer something back, but words feel impossible with the way his fingers keep moving, steady and slow, as if he’s luxuriating in every reaction. “c’mon, bunny,” he murmurs, his fingers slipping inside, pussy so wet and greedy, sucking it all in, finding you so easily that you can barely catch your breath. “give me something. tell me how long you’ve been wanting this.”
“h-hoshi…” you gasp, feeling your cheeks go even redder as he laughs, clearly pleased with himself.
“yeah?” he whispers, fingers pressing deeper, making your whole body respond, legs clenching around him. “don’t hold back. i’m right here.”
you let yourself go, your body responding to the way his fingers move, slick and ribbing, the wet sounds are almost embarrassing, echoing in the quiet of the room, but he’s not even trying to hide his laughter, each laugh dripping with that dark, horned-up energy that makes your stomach twist.
“you’re really getting into this, hm? riding my fingers like a little bunny in heat. thought you were shy?” his eyes are gleaming, and you can see that he’s practically losing his mind with lust, just as you are. the way your hips instinctively rock against his fingers is making it hard for him to think straight.
“hoshi-ah!—” you manage to gasp, your body feels electrified, like every nerve is lit up, and the pressure building inside you makes it hard to focus on anything else. he laughs, that low, throaty sound, clearly enjoying the way you’re unraveling in his hands.
“what? can’t handle it? not my fault you look so damn cute like this,” he teases. “there we go, that’s my girl. just keep riding me like that. you’ve got this.”
you grip his shoulders, feeling the warmth radiate from his skin as your eyes roll back, threatening to take you somewhere blissful and hazy. it’s like the world around you fades away, and all you can focus on is him—his fingers, still buried deep inside you, pushing you closer to that edge you desperately try to reach. the slick sounds of your pussy mix with his labored breaths, a soundtrack of pure sex echoing off the walls.
“wait,” he suddenly breathes out, his voice strained. your heart races as he shifts, trying to find a condom somewhere in the chaos that is his bedroom. even as he rummages around, his fingers stay just where they are, still pressed against you.
“hoshi…” you murmur, your voice shaky as you feel that lingering sensitivity from his touch. he glances up at you completely consumed by you.
“just a second,” he manages, and you can see how hard it is for him to keep his focus as he finally finds the little foil packet. he leans back, pulling you closer, and there’s a wicked smile playing on his lips. “herre, you do it. i wanna watch you.”
you nod, hands shaking as you reach for the condom, your fingers fumbling slightly with the package. he resumes his teasing fingers, moving them inside you, and your breath hitches.
“god, you feel incredible,” he murmurs, his breath coming out in ragged bursts as he watches you, mesmerized by how easily you respond to him. your moans escape before you can hold them back, and you feel your cheeks flush even hotter.
“m’not gonna last if you keep doing that,” he warns, but his voice betrays him, coming out breathy as he gives a playful thrust of his fingers, coaxing more sounds from you.
he resumes the rhythm of his fingers, and the sensation almost makes you forget what you’re doing. “ah—hoshi!”
“feel good?” he asks, like he’s genuinely concerned for your pleasure.
“y-yeah,” you gasp, riding the waves he creates, trying to keep yourself steady as the pleasure builds again. “so good.”
hands are trembling as you reach for him, fingers fumbling over the buttons of his jeans, your breath hitching in your throat. “it’s… it’s kinda tight,” you admit, biting your lip, you can feel his excitement growing, and it only makes you even more nervous.
“don’t worry about it. just take your time. i’m right here,” he reassures, with that, you unbutton his jeans, sliding them down just enough to expose him, and your heart skips a beat as you lower his underwear, finally revealing him to you.
your hands tremble as you reach for him, the feeling of his fingers still lingering on your skin making it hard to focus. but you do your best, slipping the rubber over his length, feeling how hard he is, and the way he breathes out sharply when you finally make contact. it makes you swell with confidence.
“wow,” you breathe, your eyes widening as you take him inside the rubber. he looks so delicious, so ready for you.
“like what you see?” he teases, his breath coming out in shallow gasps as he lays back comfortably, pulling you to him. his hand intertwine with yours, guiding you as you slide the condom on him.
“yeah, i do.”
“good.”
“hoshi, please…” you plead, you want nothing more than to feel him inside you. “i need you.”
“patience, bunny,” he murmurs, teasing you with every thrust of his fingers. “you’ve got to show me how bad you want it. ride my fingers like you did before, and then we’ll see.”
you moan, the sound echoing in the room as you start to move your hips against his fingers, rocking back and forth, feeling that familiar tension building again. “i’m trying!” you whine. “but it feels so good… i don’t want to wait.”
“i get it. trust me, i want you too. just hold on a little longer,” he encourages, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you. you feel like you’re melting under his gaze.
the pace of his fingers increases, and you can feel the sweat starting to bead on your forehead, your breathing becoming more erratic as the sensations grow stronger. “i can’t… hoshi, i can’t hold back much longer,” you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut.
“let go for me, baby,” he breathes, pushing you further and further to that edge. “just let it all out, and then we can really have some fun. i want to feel you fall apart.”
the moment he feels you squelch around his fingers, a wicked grin spreads across hoshi's face. he uses his fingers to spread you wider, that little pompom bouncing slightly as he watches you melt. but before you can melt completely, he guides you down onto him, urging you to sink onto his waiting cock—all in. and just like that, you're sent spiraling to hell and back in the middle of your orgasm.
a scream escaping your lips as you bury your face into his chest. your cries ringing in his ears, a sweet melody.
he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, feeling the rapid thump of your heart against his chest. “you good?” he asks, his fingers slide down your back, gentle and soothing, trying to help you catch your breath as his cock twitches inside you. “you looked like you were about to explode.”
“i—i think i did,” you mumble, still a little dazed. the pompom on your costume sways with every quiver, a ridiculous but endearing sight that makes his grin widen. “hoshi, i—oh my god, it’s too much!” your voice comes out in a high-pitched whine when he grinds up.
you bury your face against him, seeking comfort in the warmth of his body, and the sound of his heartbeat thrumming against your cheek calms the storm inside you, if only just a little.
“i know it feels like a lot, but just wait. will be good, i promise. will ride me so good... my bunny..”
the thought makes u all horny again, and you can’t help but squirm as you process what he’s suggesting. “but… what if I can’t?” you stutter, glancing away shyly.
“you can, I promise,” he insists, his eyes softening as he leans closer, brushing his lips against your cheek. “I’ll take care of you, and I’ll make sure you feel every second of it. just trust me.” his words are a warm caress, soothing the lingering worries, and the way he says it makes you feel safe.
he raises your head just enough to capture your lips, and it’s like a combustion igniter between you. his tongue slips into your mouth, tasting you, teasing you with a sluggish kiss that makes you melt. it’s rousing, and you find yourself leaning into him, wanting more, craving the heat radiating off his body.
with a speedy movement, his other hand spreads your ass, giving him a better grip as he pulls you closer. “let’s get you to ride me, yeah?” he murmurs against your lips, and the way he says it makes your heart race even faster. you can barely comprehend.
“hoshi, i—” but you can’t finish your thought; he’s already guiding you, and your body instinctively responds, you can’t help but gasp into the kiss, breaking it as you try to regain your composure.
“can’t believe how wet you are for me. it drives me insane.”
“you’re so much, hoshi,” you admit, you begin to move, lifting your hips and then sinking down slowly, feeling every inch of him stretching you, filling you up completely. you can’t help but moan, eyes fluttering shut.
“yes, just like that,” he urges, his hands squeezing your hips. “you’re doing amazing, baby. keep going.” the way he praises you pushes you to ride him harder, to take more of him.
“hoshi!” you gasp, feeling the inferno pool deep in your belly. you can’t believe how good it feels to finally be connected with him like this, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony.
he grunts, flipping you around and positioning you on all fours, your bunny tiara tumbling onto the sheets as you crawl onto the bed. the fabric beneath you is soft but the way he thrusts into you is anything but gentle.
“come on, y/n, keep that ass up for me,” he growls, his breath heavy as he digs his fingers into your hips, holding you in place. “you wanna feel me deeper, right? i need to see you like this.”
you can merely hold yourself up as his thrusts grow stronger, sending your body forward with each powerful push. “hoshi, please,” you whimper, trying to maintain your balance as your body instinctively responds to him.
“please what?” he teases, his fingers tightening around your hips, his grip possessive. “are you begging for me? ‘cause if you don’t keep that ass up, i might just stop right here.” he emphasizes the last part with another hard thrust that makes you gasp, your body aching for more.
“i’m trying—fuck, fuck!” you manage to say, he’s watching you, waiting for you to comply, adds an edge of desperation to your movements.
“good girl,” he murmurs, he thrusts again, and you can feel him so deep inside you that it’s almost too much to bear. “you’re so fucking tight, y/n. it’s like you were made for me.”
you can’t help but push back against him, trying to find that perfect angle. “hoshi, please—don’t stop. i need more,” you plead.
“that’s what i like to hear,” he says. “you’re such a little minx, crawling around in that cute little outfit. it’s making it hard to think straight.” he shifts his angle slightly, hitting your g'spot with his bulbous cockhead.
the tears fill your eyes, your face twists, turning into full-blown sobs as he hits the spot again and again, you don't have more control of your body, hips slumping on bed.
“oh, baby,” hoshi coos, his voice softening as he notices. he pauses for a moment, his movements halting, but then he grips you by the hair hair roughly, pulling you back just enough to arch your back. “don’t cry. talk to me. what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“i’m so close!” you cry, your voice cracking as you cling to the sheets, your body arching to meet his hips again.
he resumes thrusting into you, but this time it’s different—he pushes with more strength, less rhythm, like he’s trying to anchor you back to the moment. “focus on me,” he murmurs “feel every inch of me. let go of everything else.”
he smiles when he sees you react again, your eyes rolling when e lift your hips again, fucking his cock inside your swollen cunt until you spill around him. “you’re so fucking beautiful when you cry.. it makes me want to break you again and again.”
you clench tight around him, every nerve ending sparking to life, with each powerful thrust, hoshi drives you further into that delicious abyss. your body instinctively responds to him, tightening and fluttering around his length.
“oh fuck!— clench around me like that… just like that.”
you respond instinctively, clenching tighter, the action earning you a sharp intake of breath from him.
you’re clenching harder than ever, your mouth falling agape as the waves of pleasure crash over you like an unstoppable tide. hoshi can feel it; the way your body is tightening around him, squeezing him just right. he knows he’s close, too.
his fingers work their magic on your clit, massaging it furiously, until you gush around him, which he wished he could feel on his bare cock. “i can’t hold it!” you gasp, and as if hearing your plea, he speeds up, his fingers dancing over your sensitive clit.
“that’s it, y/n! let it out!”
a scream that echoes in the room even though the party's music bothered the whole time. you squirt, soaking the sheets and his body, hoshi couldn't hold after that. not here, not there. never. you looked so fucked out. because of... him?
“fuck, yes! just like that,” hoshi growls, his breath hitching as he feels you soak him, the slickness making your movements sloppier, until you fall completely on the bed.
he pulls out and heads to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. you hear the faint sounds of running water in the room.
hoshi watches you for a moment, your breathing slow and steady now, the remnants of bliss still evident on your face. he chuckles softly, shaking his head at how you’ve managed to turn his entire bed into a scene straight out of a movie.
“hey, y/n,” he says again, his voice a gentle nudge to bring you back to reality. “you still with me?”
you blink your eyes open, the world coming back into focus, and a lazy smile spreads across your lips.
“i think we need to do some cleaning.”
“cleaning?” you echo, glancing down at the damp sheets, realizing just how soaked they really are. your cheeks blush, as your mouth open. you don't even have the chance to say sorry before he's patting you.
“please, don't be embarassed! can you lift up a bit? i need to roll this off so we can get to the fresh stuff.”
“sure,” you mumble shyly, propping yourself up on your elbows. as you raise your hips slightly, he deftly pulls the duvet from under you, rolling it away to expose the clean sheets beneath.
hoshi carefully grabs a towel, its soft texture feeling comforting against your skin. he starts by dabbing gently at your body, wiping away the remnants of sex, his touch both tender and teasing. “you know, you really went all out with that costume. it’s a shame to see it go,” he smirks, as he deftly removes the bodysuit, revealing your bare skin underneath.
“it was cute, right? but not super comfy,” you admit, a shy smile creeping onto your face.
“definitely cute, but a bit too tight for my liking,” he jokes, tossing the towel aside and reaching for one of his oversized shirts hanging on the back of the door. he holds it up with a grin, the fabric slightly wrinkled but still looking inviting. “how about this? it’s way more comfortable. you can borrow it for the night.”
you nod eagerly, slipping into the shirt as he helps you pull it over your head. it swallows you whole, the fabric falling down to your thighs and making you feel cozy. “ah, much better,” you sigh, relishing the softness.
hoshi watches you with a smilling like a fool. “you look adorable.” he teases, his eyes sparkling. “um...i’m going to let mingyu know you’re sleeping with me here tonight, alright? he’ll freak out if he thinks you’re wandering home alone at this hour.”
“oh... thank you soonyoungie” you agree, flopping back onto the bed, the soft sheets welcoming you. “but don’t take too long! i might fall asleep before you come back.”
“no way! can’t have that happen,” he says, slipping into a pair of comfortable sweatpants. he flashes you a quick wink before heading towards the door. “i’ll be back in a flash. just hold tight, alright?”
˙⋆✮ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: professor!yoon jeonghan x grad student/librarian!f.reader
It’s clear Jeonghan might not just be a professor of mechanical engineering, he might be a professor on the female anatomy.
˙⋆✮ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): romance, smut with a little plot
˙⋆✮ 𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol
˙⋆✮ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.9k
˙⋆✮ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cussing, drinking, a little taboo mc is a grad student (she’s almost 30) but Jeonghan is not her professor specifically, power imbalance?
˙⋆✮ 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dom jeonghan (he’s sweet though), sub reader, unprotected p in v, rough sex, multiple orgasms, discussion of boundaries, creampie, big dick Jeonghan, fingering, use of sex toys, squirting, body worship, nipple play, multiple positions, pussy stretching, hair pulling, choking, spanking, marking, Nicknames: baby, pretty girl, good girl (hers) baby, hannie (his)
˙⋆✮ 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw
˙⋆✮ 𝐚𝐧: this is unbeta’d (sorry for any errors). I was trying really hard to get it out today. I wrote this for Jeonghan’s birthday. Thank you @aeristudios for listening to me figure this out and helping make this banner.
🎧: loud - the home team | tidal wave - chase atlantic
There is something about Yoon Jeonghan that always captures your attention, since the fateful night you met him in the library. Maybe you could call it a crush or something more. He’s always seemed like the forbidden fruit you weren’t supposed to have.
After graduating college you took a couple years of doing random writing jobs here and there and decided to go back for grad school. To make extra money while focusing on school you’ve started working in the campus library. Since starting your job you met Jeonghan a random late night at work. Turns out he’s friends with your roommate Mari. They went to college together, she became an elementary school teacher, and he went on to teach at the university you go to school and work at. After meeting him on campus your run-ins with him didn’t stop. A handful of times you’ve gone out with Mari and her college friends to the bar he’s been there too. He recently moved back to the city after getting hired at the university. The first time you fully got to know Jeonghan was on a random Thursday night after work. Mari convinced you to go with her to get drinks and to celebrate one of her friends' birthdays.
You learned that you have a lot in common. The night was filled with lots of flirting and Jeonghan mentioning he would love to see you sometime. After that night you had wanted to go out with him, but decided maybe you shouldn’t date one of the professors from your campus. Even though you’re closer to thirty than half the campus. You’re only a year younger than him, you were worried about his job being at risk. The last thing you would want is for him to lose his job because of you.
Three months into your grad program you’re starting to feel like you’re going insane. All of your focus has been on school and work. You feel as if you’re emotionally and sexually pent up. You aren’t sure how much more you can handle this.
Sitting in your apartment you share with Mari, she's drinking a glass of wine and texting her boyfriend Seokmin. You’ve been listening to her gossip about some of the teachers at her school. After a long tough day at work, all she wanted to do was drink a glass of wine and see her boyfriend.
Letting out a sigh you dramatically close your laptop. If you work on this project any longer you’re pretty sure your brain is just going to stop working. At this point you’re so overworked and over stressed you aren’t sure how you can keep up with this. Your school and work load this semester is absolutely overwhelming. You’re only focusing on those two things all the time. You aren’t sure how much more you can take of this.
Mari looks over at you and can instantly tell you’re on the verge of a breakdown. “You need to take the night off from any type of school work.”
“I feel like I’m so burnt out.”
“You’re juggling a full school schedule and a thirty hour a week job. I’m not shocked you’re burnt out. You need a hobby or something.” She gets up from her chair and grabs the bottle of wine from the kitchen. She sits back down in her same chair and pours herself more wine.
“You need to go out. Why don’t you go on a date or something? Something to blow off some steam.” Your dating pool is practically nonexistent with how focused you have been on school and work.
She holds out the glass of wine for you. You shake your head and let out a sigh. “I don’t know the last time I kissed someone let alone go on a date.”
“It sounds like you need to get laid.”
Without even thinking you roll your eyes at her statement. “It’s not that easy. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Tinder exist, people use that to fuck all the time.” She takes a drink of her wine, as if she didn’t just say something crazy.
“Mari—“
“Then text Jeonghan and ask him to fuck you. I know he’s pretty freaky, I bet he could fuck the stress right out of you.” Since you met him, Mari has wanted you and Jeonghan together.
“Mari—“
“Oh come on don’t act like you don’t want to fuck him.” Of course you do, most women would die to find themselves in bed with him.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“He’s a professor and I’m a student.” This is the one thing that you keep telling yourself is standing in the way of you actually having something with him.
She rolls her eyes. “He’s a professor, but not yours. He’s a god damn mechanical engineer, and you’re going to school for writing. He’s not even a professor in the same department. He’s also only a year older than you.”
Technically it wouldn’t be breaking any rule for you to hook up, but you can’t help but be concerned about his reputation on campus if someone finds out. “Isn’t it taboo?”
“No, so just text him and tell him you need to get laid. I’m going to Seokmin’s tonight so you can hook up here.” She chugs the last of her wine and stands up. “He’s picking me up in twenty minutes. You'll have the place all to yourself.”
Opening your phone you find Jeonghan contact that you’ve had saved since you met him. You’ve texted a few times and even flirted here and there.
You (8:46pm): I have a really weird proposition, and don’t feel like you have to say yes.
Jeonghan (8:48pm): What’s up?
You (8:49pm): You know how you have mentioned in the past being interested in me?
Jeonghan (8:50pm): Yes, I still am if that’s what you are asking?
You (8:52pm): I’m not really in a place to be dating or anything like that… but I feel super stressed and overwhelmed, and I’m not sure how to properly ask you this without embarrassing myself.
Jeonghan (8:54pm): Are you asking if we can have sex?
You (8:57pm): If you aren’t interested you can say no.
Jeonghan (8:57pm): I never said I wasn’t interested.
you (8:58pm): Are you going to make me properly ask you?
Jeonghan (8:59pm): I think it would be polite if you’re going to ask me fuck away your stress.
You (9:05pm): Jeonghan can you please come over and fuck me until I can’t think straight?
Jeonghan (9:06pm): Is Mari home?
You (9:07pm): No, Seokmin just picked her up. I have my place to myself until tomorrow.
Jeonghan (9:08pm): I’ll be there in twenty.
The next twenty minutes did nothing to relieve your stress as you ran around your bedroom trying to find the sexiest underwear you owned. Tearing through your dresser, hidden away you pull out your pink dildo you sit it on the top of your dress as you hunt for your lavender lacy thong you bought hoping to wear it for an occasion like this one. You find it tucked away in the back.
Sliding off your sweatpants you quickly change into the lacy material that does nothing to cover you. Originally you were going to put on a dress and attempt to make yourself look nice. What is the point in getting all dressed up, if Jeonghan is coming over with the intention of stripping you naked. You opt for wearing a silk nighty that hits high in your upper thighs. You don’t even bother trying to find a bra. Looking in the mirror you feel very exposed. Your nipples are hard against the silky material. For the first time in a while you confident and sexy.
Your phone buzzed on your bed. You throw your underwear back in the drawer and quickly grab you phone.
Jeonghan (9:32pm): I’m here.
Walking out of your bedroom you take a deep breath before unlocking the door. The sight of Jeonghan standing on the other side dressed in sweater pants and oversized shirt. He’s wearing his signature wired frame glasses that manage to turn you on even more.
“Hi.” He gives you a smile.
“Hi.” You step aside signaling for him to come in. You lock the door and lean back against it. He slips off of his shoes. He takes a moment to let his eyes fully explore your barely covered body.
“Fuck, you look hot.” His voice is low and raspy.
“I wasn’t sure what I should wear, since you’re just going to take it off of me.” You can’t help but nervously ramble. You’ve never asked someone to basically be a booty call. To be honest you've never had sex outside of a committed relationship. This entire situation is extremely new to you.
“This is perfect. Just so you know, no matter what you wear I’m going to always be attracted to you.” He places his hand on your cheek. He drags his thumb slowly across your bottom lip. “You seem nervous. If you don’t want to do this, we can just watch a movie and hang out.”
“No.” You practically shout. “I want you to fuck me.”
He narrows his eyes at you, giving you a devilish grin. “For such a pretty girl you have a filthy mouth.” Hearing him speak to you like that did something to you. You’ve never been one for dirty talk, but if he talks to you like that more, you wouldn’t be opposed to it.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, pretty girl.” He leans in closer to you. His noses rest against yours. Your lips are so close they’re almost touching. “What do you want to do?”
“I want anything you’ll give me.” Leaning up your lips brush against his.
“We need to talk about boundaries before I fuck you.” Whispers practically against your lips.
You pull back a little. “Okay.”
“What are your hard nos? I can be rough sometimes, and I want to know what you like and don’t like.” From what Mari had said, Jeonghan knows how to please a woman. One night she drunkenly told you about the time she walked in on him fucking her old college roommate. According to her he was making the girl cry while he overstimulated her.
“Please don’t call me mean names. You can smack my ass and choke me, but please don’t slap my face. Hair pulling is okay, but nothing crazy. I like to be praised. I definitely have a praise kink. I’m on birth control, I have an IUD. I’m clean, I haven’t had sex in eight months.” You’ve never had a man properly ask you about your boundaries before.
“Do you have any toys we can use, and are you okay with using them?” You’re instantly remembering your pink dildo, you left on top of your dresser.
“Yes I do, and you can use them.” You stare at him almost in shock that this whole thing is happening. “Do you have any boundaries?”
“I’m open to most things. My main concern is making sure I pleasure you. I won’t edge you or anything crazy. Have you ever squirted before?” That definitely wasn’t what you thought he was going to ask you.
“No, I don’t think I can.”
“Are you opposed to trying?”
“You can try. Can I ask you to keep your glasses on?”
“Seems like you’re naughtier than I thought you were. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me.” He leans in closer to you again. This time his lips brush your for a slight moment for a barely there kiss. “If anything gets to be too much all you have to do is say stop, and I’ll stop immediately no matter what.”
he crushes his lips into yours for your first searing kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck pulling your body close to his. Kissing him felt like an adrenaline rush you’ve never experienced before. His tongue slides against yours earning a moan from you.
Pulling away he gives you that devilish smile, “I know we’re going to have fun tonight, pretty girl.”
It takes very little effort before you’re both naked and locked away in your bedroom.
Laying on your bed with your legs spread he’s holding a vibrator, an dildo you left out is lying on the bed next to him. He’s already had his fun playing with that toy. He’s decided to use his fingers and the vibrator.
His fingers are pumping in and out of you as he holds the vibrator to your puffy clit. You’ve never had a man use a vibrator while he fingers you. His fingers are long and slender and they’re brushing the perfect spot inside of you. Arching your back you try your hardest to push your pussy closer to him.
“Tsk, be a good girl and stay still.” His teasing tone makes you want to cry in the best way possible.
“Jeonghan—“ You moan.
“Yes baby?” Him using sweet pet names on you, is enough to make you wet all on its own.
“Pl-pl-ease, I need to come.” You’re a stuttering mess. You’ve been on the verge of falling apart for the last minute. You’re desperate to come at this point.
He looks up at you giving you a look of faux innocences. “Baby, you can come.”
The flood gates break and your high hits you like white hot wave. Your wall contract around his finger. You expect him to pull the vibrator away and remove his finger, but he doesn’t stop. He presses the vibrator harder against your clit. He never slows down his movement. There is a weird pressure building inside you, you’ve never experienced before.
All the nerves in your body feel electric. Your body moves on its own trying to pull away from him. He hooks his finger making sure to focus on your g spot. It’s clear Jeonghan might not just be a professor of mechanical engineering, he might be a professor on the female anatomy.
“Behave, you’re going to feel a weird pressure. Just let it go.” His low voice helps soothe.
You follow his command and let the pressure building inside you. For the first time ever as your orgasm washes over you, a liquid rushes out of you like you have never experienced before. You’ve drenched not only the towel below you, but also Jeonghan and his hand and arm. Your whole body burns feeling oddly embarrassed. Looking up completely dazed, you see a very satisfied Jeonghan staring down at you.
“Fuck, that was hot.” He practically sighs. “You did so good.” He rubs your thigh slowly. “Can you take another orgasm?”
The idea of him not fucking you after all that is absolutely insane. “Yes.”
“Hands and knees.”
Blindly you follow his command. Presenting yourself with your butt in the air. Looking over your shoulder you watch as he pumps his length a few times behind you. His hand grips your butt cheek massaging it roughly before giving it a quick smack. The moment his hand makes contact you can’t help but moan.
Taking his already hardened cock in his hand he runs it through your wet fold, gathering some of your release. “Are you ready?” He asks.
“Yes.”
Without saying anything he slowly pushes in. He’s definitely bigger than expected. You’re going to need a minute to adjust to the size of him.
“Fuck, you’re big.” You whine as he bottoms out.
Jeonghan can’t help but smile at how whiney and desperate you sound. He could get used to seeing you like this. He rubs your hip, hoping to help relax you.
“Let me know when you’re ready.”
You need a moment, you still haven’t fully adjusted to the sheer size of him.
“I’m ready.”
He grips your hips tightly, but doesn’t start moving yet. “This is gonna be rough. If you don’t like it at any point just tell me.” This man is literally about to crack you in half, and he’s being a complete sweetheart before.
“Okay.”
He pulls his hips back, pulling his entire length almost out of your gummy wall, before immediately slamming his hips back into you. He doesn’t start out giving you a slow pace, he gets right to it. Squeezing your eyes shut you, let out whimpers you’ve never made before.
The pace he’s set is practically brutal. He’s moving at a quick and deep pace. Pushing your hips back, you try to not just stand still. The flesh of your butt jiggles with each snap of his pelvis against your butt. One hand grips the flesh of your butt, squeezing it before smacking it again. At this rate you’re going to be walking around tomorrow with his hand print on your ass.
“Fuck.” He moans under his breath. You aren’t sure if he meant to say that out loud.
“Hannie—“
“You look so good like this.” He knew from the moment he met you, that you had a connection. He knew you had undeniable chemistry together. Turns out, you make an incredible pair in bed. He wishes you could have been doing this together for the last couple months. Maybe he can convince you to do this again. He definitely wants to take his time worshipping your body.
His hand wraps in your hair pulling your head back. He isn't rough with his motions. He tugs just enough to help guide you back. “Jeonghan.” You moan his name like a prayer.
“Do you like that?” He taunts you.
“Yes.” You think you would like anything he gives you.
“Can you come for me?” Wordlessly you nod you head. “Say please.”
“Please.” You cry.
He tugs on your hair earning another moan. Your third orgasm hits you as hard as the last two. You’ve never come this many times in your life. He pulls you back to his hips, his grip is bruising. His hips stutter as he comes moaning your name. He pauses for a minute, but he never releases your hair.
The room is filled with the echoing sound of both your heavy breathing. “Can you keep going?” He finally speaks. You’ve never had a man want to keep going immediately after coming.
“Yes.”
“Time to change positions. Sit on my knees.” He tugs on your hair again earning another moan. He moves you effortlessly. He’s sitting on his knees with you plastered against him. Your back is glued to his chest. His large cock is nestled inside you. His cum from his first release is starting to leak out of you, around his length. He’s released your hair, now opting to have a hand wrapped around your throat. He’s applying just enough pressure to have you feeling drunk on lust. Rolling your hips you help move yourself up and down his length.
At this angle he’s hitting a spot deep inside of you, you’ve never felt before. Your lips are parted as a mixture of pants and moans leave your lips. His other hand grips your breast, toying with your nipple for a long moment.
“Next time you’re going to ride me, and I'm going to play with your pretty nipples.” He moans into your ear.
His hand has traveled across your body while the other keeps applying pressure to your throat.
Gliding your hips up and down his length you try to keep a steady rhythm. One of his hands grips your hips helping guide you. You’ve never had sex that had felt this good. It turns out Mari wasn’t wrong, Jeonghan is wild in bed. He’s fucking you so good you just might cry. He’s pulled three orgasms out of you, and at this point he’s going to get a fourth out of you soon.
By the way Jeonghan is making you feel, you aren’t sure this could just be a casual one time thing. You could get used to the way he makes you feel, and the sweet yet dirty words he whispered into your ear.
“Hannie.” His name is a broken cry.
“Yes?” He can’t help but smile at how whiney and needy you are.
“Close.” At this point you can’t form a full sentence. He’s officially fucked you stupid.
“Be a good girl and come.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you moan. You let the hot wave take you under. You’ll gladly drown in anything Jeonghan has to offer. Your walls flutter around his length. You aren’t sure your body can take another orgasm after this one. You’re being rocked to your core. All your muscles have relaxed. Slumping back against him, you moan.
His hand grip your hips helping guide you up and down his length. Your body is practically limp as he moves you. He’s chasing his final high. He falls apart moaning your name in your ear. He slams you down against his thigh, holding you there and he continues to fill your used core with his sticky white release.
It would be an understatement to say the sex you just had with Jeonghan was earth shattering.
Wrapping his arms around you he holds you close. He leaves a trail of open mouth kisses against your neck. He’s most definitely leaving a few marks in his wake.
He helps move you off his lap. You practically flop onto the bed, feeling exhausted. You aren't sure if your limbs even work at this point. You know between your legs is a sticky mess. Jeonghan leaves the room and comes back holding a warm wash cloth.
Laying on your bed with your legs spread he’s gently wiping away the mess he’s made of you. “Do you have a spare comforter?”
“In the top shelf of my closet.” You still feel completely dazed after four orgasms.
“Let’s take a shower and then I’ll change your bedding before leaving.” He holds his hand out for you to hold.
“You’re going to leave? You’re not staying the night?” You can’t help but be disappointed, you wanted to cuddle with him after he literally made you cry from how good he was fucking you.
“I thought you wanted causal? I thought all you wanted was sex.” Jeonghan likes you, he actually likes you a lot, but he doesn’t want to push what you’re comfortable with.
“What if I changed my mind?”
He crawls over you, so he’s caging you in with his arms on either side of your head. “What do you mean Miss Librarian?”
“Well professor Yoon, if you still wanted to date me I’m very interested in you.”
Leaning forward he presses his lips to your for a heated kiss. “Did I fuck you so good, that now you want me to be your boyfriend?”
You can’t help but let out a laugh. “Yes Mr.Yoon, you and your huge dick fucked me so good I need to be in a relationship.”
“Alright baby, you’ve convinced me to stay the night and start properly dating you.”
Who would have known that letting out all your sexual frustration would lead to you finding your perfect match?
🏹 synopsis: Seungkwan may have been represented by his considerably heartwarming traits, but he ruined his own fate with his vengeful and prideful behavior. Despite his flawed outlook, he can still see you in every lover — until it's you, again.
🏹 genre: greek god au ; second chance romance au ; angst, fluff, smut ; sort of former enemies/rivals to lovers.
🏹 pairing: athena!boo seungkwan x reincarnated arachne!fem!reader | side pairing: eros!mingyu x psyche!tzuyu (twice) | side characters: zeus!seungcheol ; hades!jeonghan ; hephaestus!wonwoo ; hermes!vernon ; eris!saerom (fromis_9)
🏹 word count: 40.8k (and what about it?)
🏹 rating: 18+. minors please do not interact.
🏹 warnings: human x god dynamics. swearing, alcohol. mentions of infidelity, mentions of envy-fueled death, lowkey murder. seungkwan is a perfectionist, reincarnated reader is good at everything. seungkwan can be very hot and cold, reader is way too flirty and toes the line entirely too much. smut warnings: virgin!seungkwan...surprise! multiple scenes (3 shitty ones!), oral (m. & f. rec), fingering (f. rec), unprotected sex (in this economy?!), so much heavy petting (and casual intimacy), frottage, some begging, a bit of dirty talk, lots of pet names (baby, angel, threadling, brat,etc.), dacryphilia and breeding kink if you squint (and i mean really, really squint), praise kink, biting, nipple play, riding, body worship (including the feet...mostly f.rec), a little bit of humiliation.
🏹 what to listen to: run away - tzuyu ; highway to hell - ac/dc ; back to me - the rose ; cinnamon girl - lana del rey ; she's my religion - pale waves ; i'm your baby tonight - whitney houston ; take me back to eden - sleep token ; faithfully - journey ; ruby - woozi ; cry for love - baekhyun ; spell - seventeen ; sailor song - gigi perez ; tattoos - reneé rapp.
🏹 author's note: thank you to everyone who encouraged me to write this, and this is for the greek god collab hosted by maren and aeris (link here!) for betas and support: @cheolism, @seokgyuu, and @diamonddaze01! thank you to everyone who forced me to get a fucking grip and just WRITE this. after two months of agonizing over it, writing and rewriting scenes (mostly the smut) and crying over boo seungkwan, it's finally here. seungkwan, my beloved little goblin...the brainrot has been far too real and i hope you get all the love in the world, and that this does you justice for the lack of seungkwan fics on this godforsaken app. xoxo. (star divider by @/enchanthings here on tumblr. link here.)
ONE.
It seemed you and Jeonghan were good friends by the way you speak to each other.
"Back so soon?" He calls, unsurprised. You huff, dusting your knees of rubble before looking up to him sitting cross-legged on his throne, flipping through a newspaper and tapping his pen on his chin. "Tsk, tsk."
"I'm just saying, Seungcheol shouldn't make me the best if he doesn't want me to show it off." You scoff, grimacing at the streaks of ash on your legs.
Jeonghan snorts, "Pride is a sin."
Shrugging, you slump over the table before him, ignoring the pain in your diaphragm from the very obvious arrow sticking out of it. He gives you a quirk of his brow, folding the newspaper and folding his hands over his lap. He gives you a pointed look, making you groan. "Hannie, we've been through this so many times. Can't you just send me back?"
"You know I can't." He smiles, and you throw a piece of gravel at him. Cerberus growls at you, and you stick your tongue out at the three-headed beast. Jeonghan rolls his eyes, pushing off his seat and tucking his hands into his pockets. "Say you're sorry."
"But we know I'd be lying." You try and weasel your way out of begging the god for mercy, but he just gives you a wider grin in response.
"Oh, but you're so pretty when you beg."
"You're a fucking freak." You mutter, and he just shrugs.
"You can beg or you can rot. I shouldn't even be giving you a choice, but I just like you so much, darling." He teases, flicking at your forehead. You frown, shoving his hand away before lowering to your knees.
"Come on! I promise I won't be a douche anymore." You exclaim, and Jeonghan just laughs.
"You said that the first time we had to do this. And tell me, Y/N, were you a douche again?"
"Saerom deserved it!" You hiss, pointing a menacing finger at the god.
He smirks, a thoughtful look glazing his eyes. "Maybe I should just keep you here. You'd be a nice little pet, I think." He looks around, before you shudder.
"Hell no, you'd probably make me clean the floor with my tongue." You grimace, but sigh in defeat. You feel your cheeks burn in subtle humiliation as you adjust your knees on the gravelly terrain, touching your forehead to the hot pebbles and extending your arms out flat.
You hear Jeonghan clear his throat. "Recite the oath I wrote for you."
Groaning inwardly, you feel his boot toe your rib. You scowl up at him, but the glowing maroon of his eyes tell you to get on with it. While this little odd game of Jeonghan's fruitless flirting was entertaining, his process definitely took a lot out of the two of you.
Often why Wonwoo reminds you that you should be grateful Jeonghan keeps letting you get away with it, fighting with Seungcheol constantly over you.
"I apologize." You start, and Jeonghan hums.
"What are you apologizing for?"
"I apologize for allowing my pride to overcome my senses and cloud my judgment, allowing me to perform in ways I wouldn't otherwise. I see that my ego has grown further than I can control, and I ask that you allow me to prove that I can be better by returning me to the Overworld and allowing me to perform differently. If I am sent back due to my behavior, I will honor the wishes of those who sent me, and perform under your watchful eye."
You're sure Jeonghan can practically hear your eyes rolling, but he sighs nonetheless. "Alright, you goblin. Get up, you're forgiven."
You do so excitedly, wiping away any gravel stuck to your skin. Jeonghan smiles at you, a tilt to his head before he speaks in a serious tone, his fingers carefully wrapping around the fletching of the arrow. "This is the last time, Y/N."
You quirk a brow at him as he yanks the arrow out, rolling your eyes. You couldn't really feel anything when you were down here with him, much less did you care about the blood dripping down your front. "Right, same time next week?"
He shakes his head, and you feel your brow furrow. "I talked to Seungcheol. We agreed that your presence in the Overworld, while entertaining, is fruitless. You're great at what you do, and the reason Seungcheol allows it is because he's hoping you'll eventually use it for the greater good. In your first life, you decided to challenge Seungkwan of all people. Seungkwan, Y/N."
"Listen, just because he–"
"No, Y/N. This is the last time. If you're sent back, you're staying here for good." Jeonghan says sternly, and you think you see a glint of disappointment in his eyes. "You're too smart to keep doing this, stop letting your ego get in the way. You're a mortal, and you will always be a mortal."
He turns away from you, and you hear the heavy gates of the Underworld open. Cerberus presents himself next to you, ready to guide you back out. You watch as Jeonghan carefully takes his seat again, and you purse your lips. Your hand rests on the open wound in your torso, feeling a bit of resentment fester in your lower belly.
"How are you sending me back this time?"
"I think your original form would be good, no? I know you like the crazy hair colors but we should stick to the blueprint. Maybe then you'll behave." He says, shaking his newspaper off and opening it to the crossword. "Seungkwan regrets hurting you, you know."
"Yeah, right." You scoff, feeling a pang in your chest as you recall your first time landing in the Underworld. Jeonghan had nearly sprung out of his seat, his long black hair pinned back by deep purple Gladiolus flowers. You were covered in spider's thread, wrapped tightly in the web and littered with leaves and twigs.
You'd challenged Seungkwan to a weaving contest. Your father had been highly praised amongst mortals for his talent in textiles, leading you to follow his legacy – your weaving had garnered the attention of anyone within a hundred-mile radius. This lead to your chest swelling with pride at the compliments you received, and the business you were able to bring your father.
But, like Icarus, you'd flown a bit too close to the Sun. You started boasting that not even the wisest and craftiest of gods could rival your talent – even going as far as saying that Seungkwan, the god of wisdom and craft, would fail at creating something even worth his weight in silk.
Once word reached him in Olympus, he agreed to face you. He presented himself in Lydia, quickly guided to the home you shared with your father by looking for your tapestries. The owl on his shoulder blinked at you, a soft chirp from its beak as you carefully lugged out a loom to your backyard, unaware of his presence.
Seungkwan had watched you carefully from his spot behind a few bushes, something Jeonghan had later told you as he unwrapped you from the web you were bound by. You soaked up the sun in your long dress, before carefully stretching your fingers and threading the yarn through the loom. You seemed at ease with the loom, comfortably and confidently weaving the yarn through your nimble fingers.
What Jeonghan didn't tell you?
Seungkwan – though turned off by your ego – was enthralled by you, his attraction only heightened by your beauty. He would've never assumed that you would blatantly boast god-like talent without an ounce of respect. It seemed now that he was wrong, as he watched the way your pride practically seeped out of your fingers as they did what you knew best. He couldn't help but feel a bit of jealousy tangle in his stomach.
Seungkwan waited three nights to return to your home, taking shelter in the forest around your town. He returned peacefully, with a clear mind as he knocked on your door. He heard soft laughter and a gentle reassurance to your aging father as you gracefully opened the door. Your eyes were hidden behind your plump cheeks, full lips spread into a smile as you greeted him.
"Hello."
He didn't respond nor introduced himself, only scanning you quietly. His eyes lingered on your lips, before noting your bandaged fingers folded neatly in front of your apricot-colored skirt.
"Can I help you, sir? Are you here on business?"
You'd had no idea who was in your presence. Your warm smile almost made him forget who he was.
"You're Y/N, right?"
"That's me, sir. What can I help you with? Oh, we just got a shipment of beautiful violet yarn. It's dyed–"
"I'm Seungkwan. You said you could out-weave anyone."
Your expression changed at that, your smile turning into a smirk as you looked down at your bandaged fingers.
"A god is threatened by me?"
Your voice had been teasing, but it only managed to irritate him.
"On the contrary, I quite enjoy your little act. What am I, if not a just and fair opponent?"
With that, your gaze hardened slightly, and you extended your hand. He shook it carefully, watching as you walked to the center of your village, your fingers reaching for the cornucopia carefully held by a stone carving of Dionysus. You brought it to your lips, blowing what seemed to be a memorized tune.
Children flooded out of homes, followed by their parents and even some domesticated animals trailed around. Everyone smiled at your presence in the center of the village as you replaced the cornucopia.
"Everyone, I thank you for coming out. It seems we've got a visitor." You'd gestured towards Seungkwan, earning various gasps and even a scream from a young child in the crowd. Murmuring had quickly started, your bandaged hands calling for their attention as you waved them around.
"Seungkwan, the god of wisdom, craft and strategy…has come to accept my challenge."
There hadn't been much speaking after that – the villagers quickly moved to watch as your father and a few other people moved looms out for you and Seungkwan. Your fingers quickly threaded the yarn through yours, watching as Seungkwan took his time unraveling it and threading it through. He noted your impatience through the flare of your nostrils.
The villagers watched in awe as the two of you wove like your lives depended on it – though, your art told different stories. The people had heard tales of Seungkwan's relentless discipline, only confirmed as he weaved those tales into each corner of his tapestry – and it caused a bit of anxiety to fester in their stomachs. His tapestry held symbols of peace, his infamous olive branch weaved into every space he could fit it.
Your tapestry told tales of Seungcheol – the god of the sky and his countless romantic escapades. You shunned him, intricately weaving each and every face of his lovers with yarn and creating a bigger battle to be faced by the god himself. You took the thrill and rush of the callout to continue onto the god of music, weaving Jihoon's lyre into the tapestry with tales of his manipulation of mortals with his song, as well as his scorn. You even went as far as involving who would one day become one of your closest friends – the god of the Underworld, Jeonghan.
You wove mercilessly, spilling truths that were unbeknownst to you. You expressed resentment against Jeonghan with your yarn, spewing hatred of his isolation and cruelty towards the damned. You implemented his manipulation of other gods and mortals, his way with words and the imposement of his feelings upon the damned.
You flew too close to the Sun.
Seungkwan watched as you fell frantic with pride, your fingers working almost overtime as you burned through yarn like there was no tomorrow. He was impressed, but his expression hardened at your disrespect of the gods. What could you, a mortal, ever understand about being a god?
What could you, a simple village girl who sold tapestries for a living, understand about pressure and having to guide all those to wander to where they need to be? Who were you to judge a god for having multiple lovers – had you ever had one? Who were you to talk down on a god for being cold and isolated, when you were the very same – boasting about your pride, isolating yourself to perfect a craft that would lead you to your demise? Who were you, to complain about the blessed tune of a god, can you do anything other than weave your loud-mouthed opinions?
The damned. That's who you were, if not who you would become.
"That's enough."
He'd stopped you just as you reached the end of your yarn, tearing through the tapestry you'd woven before him. Your mouth fell, watching as the god ripped your work to shreds. You, ever so human…said exactly what passed through your head.
"You gods could never imagine someone to be better than you. You, of all gods, could never accept someone that's more capable than you. Someone faster, someone wiser–"
Seungkwan decided your idea of friendly competition had taken a turn for the worse. He simply held the shreds of your work in his hands, and gave you a stern look. "Pride will get you killed, you know."
And, it did. However, you didn't exactly know how, and neither did Jeonghan – just that you were wrapped in the web, with spider-like limbs protruding amongst the rubbish tangled in the spindle and your dark hair framing your tear stained face.
It seemed you couldn't get enough of the thrill, though.
You begged Jeonghan to set you free and send you back – but Jeonghan knew of your insults directed at him through your tapestry. He'd clicked his tongue at you, eyeing your clothing. Your skirt was made of only the finest thread, your fingers bleeding through the taped cloth on them. Your hair was tangled and your skin was dull, and you were truly coming to the realization that that was all you were. A human, a mortal. A plaything, if he so desired.
Nothing in comparison to Jeonghan. Nothing in comparison to Seungcheol, Jihoon and, as much as you hated to admit it, Seungkwan.
He'd made you apologize, and he kept you in the Underworld for three days and three nights. By then, Wonwoo had come to fetch you – called by Jeonghan and Seungcheol. You'd met Wonwoo several times, often trading your finest tapestries for anything he'd give you.
He'd made you and your father a special pair of scissors in exchange for a woven satchel and the cloak you'd made of hemp for him, dyed carefully with safflower petals. He wore them as he sauntered into the Underworld, bearing a gift for Jeonghan – a pomegranate, forged from bronze and riddled with garnets of all shapes and sizes. He offered Jeonghan it as a trade-off for you, and the god accepted – not saying anything about you being free to return to the Overworld. But not without a catch, and not without a punishment.
What was the catch?
You looked nothing like yourself. You were…different. Different slopes in your nose, different curves of your ears and your legs shorter. Your fingers permanently bruised from your past life of weaving and hubris.
And it happened again, and again, and again – until Jeonghan expected you to crash into the graveled ground like a spider falling from the sky. He'd always give you the same look, the same sigh, and the same flirtatious routine. Though, the more he saw you, the more he grew fond of you. He enjoyed humiliating you, watching you squirm under his gaze – but by your eighth visit, he was tired of the act.
Wonwoo was the only one who knew how much you'd been thrust in and out of the Underworld, offering you his spare room. He and his wife had long separated, so you were simply filling the void of a companion for him.
The punishment for your shenanigans?
You lost your father, and didn't get to say goodbye.
Wonwoo took care of him, from a distance, while you were routinely jostled through the experience of living and dying, and physical change. Your father was never allowed any information about you, simply being told that you'd disappeared. No one expected him to live on in peace without his only daughter – and he fell ill with worry and stress – leaving the god of fire to beg Seungcheol to let you return to him for a final goodbye. Seungcheol refused, and your father died after three nights of hard rainfall.
Your punishment was not the worst there was. You knew that – but it still aches deep within. You challenged anyone and anything, you didn't really care to find a cure for your pain. You fought against anyone who would allow you to – your latest quest proving that you could entice anyone into a fight far quicker than Saerom, the goddess of discord and strife.
She obviously didn't take too kindly to that, sending you back down to the Underworld with a golden arrow in your chest. Leading you to this very conversation with Jeonghan – potentially your last ever conversation with him where he doesn't banish you to the depths of hell with all those who have wronged him.
You sigh, glancing down at your fingers. The same bloodied cloth from all those years ago reappeared on your hands, your bruised fingertips softly throbbing. Your apricot skirt hung carefully on your hips, the bandage top now carefully wrapped around your torso. You felt the weight of your jewelry return to your ears and neck, the singular ruby ring sitting snugly around your right thumb.
"Are you sure? Won't they remember me?" You ask softly, and for once, Jeonghan can see inner turmoil.
He shakes his head. "Everyone has either left or died. And, you're always welcome to move around as well. As far as I know…they need a weaver in Olympus."
You look up to see Jeonghan's maroon eyes glint with mischief, his smile wide as Cerberus grunts next to you. Seeing your lips curl gently, he waves his fingers at you. "I'll see you in a few decades, yeah?"
Nodding, you take a deep breath before turning your back on him, seeing the three-headed beast begin to lead the way out. "I'll see you, Jeonghan."
TWO.
Seungkwan was restless.
He promised his life to this. A life of being just, a life of being fair, a life of being a pure and sound god with nothing but the best of intentions for the mortals he helped guide. A life of losing himself, and his own desires, in order to be there for those who truly needed help, those who were truly in need of guidance and a path to follow.
He was there to answer questions and solve problems. He was there to make decisions for everyone who needed him to.
Who answers his questions? Who solves his problems, who makes decisions for him when he is too overwhelmed to think for himself?
Nobody. If he doesn't do it, it simply won't get done.
He'd even attempted to take lovers in, trying to kiss and touch his way out of his own stress only to pull away before things got too heated. He couldn't, in good faith, allow himself to submit to just anyone. The mortals were just excited to be with a god, someone who could easily break them, someone who was deemed an esteemed part of their community – he didn't want them to see him like that, not during an intimate affair. He wasn't just a notch on a bedpost; he too, felt things. He'd see hurt flash through their eyes as he casted them away, shame radiating off his shoulders as they gathered their clothing and left his temple.
He felt like something was missing in all of them. He thought about it tirelessly – he felt attracted to them. He felt lust, he felt desire, but nothing got him to the point where he felt it could be quenched. His yearning for someone deeper, someone real, someone deserving of him ate away at his heart.
He sighed, hearing the echo of his shoes against the marble tile of the temple. He'd had a long day, only to be rang with yet another qualm – a mortal who searched for a job was granted access to his temple, and had been sent by Jeonghan and brought to the sacred home by Vernon, Wonwoo, and Cerberus.
Jeonghan said the mortal was good at almost anything and everything, and was looking for a mentor to take her under as she had no remaining family in all of Olympus. Vernon and Cerberus came into view as Seungkwan reached the open doors of the temple, hearing soft laughter rip through the air as Wonwoo appeared as well, but it wasn't from him.
He sees a bandaged hand resting lightly on Wonwoo's shoulder, a hint of an apricot skirt peeking from behind Vernon's leg.
"I've missed you, Wonwoo."
His ears perk at the tone of voice. It's soft, it's melodic, it's teasing.
He clears his throat, the three-headed beast flaring its nostrils as Seungkwan takes the steps down to the gathered polycule. Wonwoo smiles at him, something mirrored by Vernon as he quickly spins around. Cerberus carefully lowers to the ground, watching Seungkwan's every move as he clears his throat again.
"Gentlemen?" He questions, and Wonwoo steps aside. He sees the long, dark hair he spun into cobwebs so long ago flowing freely down your back once more. The sliver of your honeyed skin peering through the white bandage top you wore, your taped fingers folded in front of the loose apricot skirt you wore that very day.
"Hello." You speak softly, and Seungkwan doesn't reply as your smile reaches your eyes, the same way it had the first day he'd met you. He looks at Vernon, who shrugs. Wonwoo does the same, before holding up his satchel.
"She won't take up much space, and she can help you with anything you need here. Jeonghan said to talk to Seungcheol if you have any issues."
Wonwoo seems to speak as though his word is law, making Seungkwan's jaw tick. They knew how meticulous he was – a place for everything and everything in its place. His home was holy to him, his gardens crafted so not even a single blade of grass was out of place. His windows washed morning and night to let the light in perfectly, his meals like clockwork.
He wasn't sure if there was a place for you here.
Seungkwan can't bring himself to say anything to Wonwoo and Vernon, who seem dead set on leaving you here. You carefully open Wonwoo's satchel, holding out a hemp sash. It was dyed a soft olive green, likely from nettle or dandelion leaves.
"For you. They said you like green."
He sucks his teeth, taking it gently from your hands and draping it over his forearm. Wonwoo smiles to himself as you move to stand by Seungkwan's side, who shuffles a bit away from you. Seungkwan was never one to shy away from a mortal, he took his job seriously.
"Well." Vernon gives a smirk, one full of mirth as he pats the scaly beast next to him. "It's best we get going, Wonwoo here has got quite the journey back to Lydia."
"So you're just going to leave her here?" Seungkwan asks, a bit of a bite in his tone making Wonwoo grin.
"You'll find a job for her, right? She's good at everything, she can even make you tapestries to help decorate. Your place feels like a prison sometimes." Seungkwan scowls at this, the older man reaching to pinch his cheek gently. "We'll see you around, Boo. We'll come check on you every few weeks, try not to rip each other's heads off."
The men turn on their heels and saunter off without so much as a second glance or word to either of you. He can feel you practically vibrating as they walk into the distance. He doesn't know if it's nerves or excitement, but he can't bring himself to ask as he notices your body is covered in quite a thick layer of grime. There is black streaks of dirt all over your shoulder, your arms covered in green, likely from dying the sash.
"You need a bath." He states, missing your scowl as he turns, marching back into the temple quickly. You pull your skirt up to scamper after him, your worn leather sandals clicking against the tile. He silently leads the way to a large bathroom, a clawfoot tub in the center surrounded by beautiful herbal soaps and sprigs of lavender and rosemary.
"Have you any other clothing?" He asks, carefully turning the knobs of the tub and receiving a steady flow of water.
He rings his ringed fingers under it as you shake your head. "No, just…this."
You gesture at your dirty clothing, making him click his tongue as he nods. "I'll find something. Feel free to use anything here, and I'll be back."
He can feel your eyes trail after him as he leaves, before hearing the soft thwip of your clothing being pulled off your body, the jingle of your jewelry being pooled together. He hears the splash of the water as you lower yourself into the tub, and a hum as you test the temperature.
He scurries off to his bedroom, throwing open a few of his drawers to see if he has anything he could offer you. You looked exactly the same as before, but he'd sworn that you'd died. He'd wrapped the cobweb so tight, he was sure you would have kicked the bucket at some point.
But, here you were. As if you didn't remember, as if nothing had happened between the two of you that would make you want to hate him. He had to tell you, right? It was the just thing to do, the honest and right thing to do.
He grimaces to himself, yanking a white chiton out of his drawer. It'd been a gift from a former lover, but it'd be your pajamas for the night. He shuffles around for towels, taking the softer ones out of his closet before trekking back out and hearing you hum a soft melody. One that reminded him of Jihoon, his tunes of love and desperate isolation.
When you come back into view, your entire body is submerged below the soapy water. The bandages on your fingers soaked through as your hand dangles over the edge of the tub, your thumb ring a sparkling contrast. Your legs are crossed, one foot in the air as you examine your toes. It was like it was your first time on Earth.
"Here." He drapes the items over the towel rack a few inches away, and you look up at him. Your face was stained as well, a few odd lines likely from streaming tears paving their way through the dirt on your cheeks. You give him a smile.
"Can I ask you for a favor?" You ask gently, and he sighs, folding his hands in front of him before nodding. You sit up, your bare chest peeking over the soap as he looks away. "I can't…my fingers are really messed up."
You hold your hand up, the bandages threatening to peel off before you close your fingers again. "Can you wash my hair?"
This is innocent. Even seeing you in the nude, meant nothing to him. He'd done this for dozens of mortals who had worked under him. He knew he was a tough guy to please, his perfectionism often shown in the pricking of his pupils' fingers and their sore joints. He nods.
"As you wish."
He moves around as you adjust, dragging a stool from behind the door to the tub and lingering at a shelf in the wall. "Rosemary? Lavender? Thyme?" He gestures at the jars of infused shampoos, and you shrug your shoulders.
"Whatever you'd like is fine."
He plucks the rosemary shampoo off the shelf, opting to roll his sleeves up and sliding his rings off before he sits at the stool. He shoves the rings in his pocket, before running his fingers under the running water once more to ensure its warmth.
"Lean back for me." He murmurs, and you tilt your head back, letting the water stream over your hairline and brows. Your eyes flicker open, watching as his hands gently card through the tangled locks, carefully undoing the knots you'd acquired.
It's not long before his dull nails are working the shampoo into your scalp softly, making your shoulders sag in relief. He assumes you'd been gone for a very long time, probably under the watchful eye of Jeonghan and whatever other damned souls were down there. He scratches behind your ears softly, making you shiver and close your eyes as you lean into the touch.
"How long has it been since you've had a bath?" He asks aloud, and you sigh quietly.
"In this form, or the others?"
"The others?" He echoes, and you peel an eye open to look at him.
"I remember you, you know."
He tries not to let relief show in his face as he nods with an unimpressed look. "I figured as much, otherwise Jeonghan wouldn't have sent you here. Your second chance is my punishment."
"My ninth chance." You murmur as he tilts your head back into the running water, the shampoo running off the sides. You close your eyes again, and Seungkwan says nothing as he rakes his fingers through your hair. He gently rubs the dirt off your cheeks before you move away.
"I don't expect you to like me, nor do I expect you to do me any favors beyond this one. I'm only here because Jeonghan said he wouldn't send me back again, so I have to be on my best behavior." You mutter, sitting up before tugging your bandages off with your teeth and flinging the wet cloth onto the floor by your dirty clothes. Seungkwan grimaces, before watching as you grab a bar of soap and run it under the water.
"I can take care of myself. You can go now." You say, the gentle tone gone as you lather the soap off the bar and gently work it into your face. Your fingers are so bruised he worries they hurt.
He stands, replacing the stool to its rightful spot and moving towards the door, stopping at the threshold. "Your room is down the corridor to the left. You are the only other person in the temple, so you will have to work with me if you want to stay here. I hope that's understood."
He doesn't give you a chance to reply before closing the bathroom door behind him, almost slamming it as he walks away. He walks to his kitchen, dragging a tub of beeswax his previous pupil had collected carefully over the course of her time in his temple. She tended to his gardens, before sending her on her way back to her village with a new skill to use for profit.
He can hear you clamber about, but chooses to focus on his task. He's carefully melting the beeswax in a pot, when he hears you walking around the temple. He doesn't move except to gather his ingredients – peppermint oil, calendula infused oil, olive oil. It would help your fingers, and hopefully you wouldn't be so stuck in your ways this time that you end up hurting yourself trying to be the best.
Something he has yet to learn how to stop doing – but if he admits to imperfection, if he admits to flaws, is he a god?
You're pacing around the temple and taking everything in, he can practically hear you murmuring to yourself as you wander into the kitchen, nearly bumping into the dining table.You catch yourself, and he continues to watch you out of the corner of his eye as you pick through the fruit in the bowl. You pull an apple, rubbing the skin against his chiton.
Your teeth sink into the flesh of the fruit, the crunch satisfying to his ears as you inch closer to him. You're peering over his shoulder, when he finally speaks.
"Do you always just make yourself at home?" He asks, and you're so close to him he can practically feel the shrug of your shoulders.
"This is home, isn't it? I'm here for a while, maybe the rest of my measly, mortal life. Might as well be a nuisance to you, oh wise one"
You're teasing him, provoking him. He knows he shouldn't buy into it, that's what landed you back here in the first place.
"Watch it." He snaps, and you giggle behind him.
"Whatever you say."
Your words are drawn out as you prance out of the room, a hum from your throat as you do so. He grumbles to himself as he measures out everything perfectly, heating everything just right so it will help your fingers in the best way possible.
He should be freaking out. He should be storming the Underworld right now, demanding Jeonghan take you back to whatever hell you were in before he sent you to him. He should be angry that you're in his presence, your ego so hard to swallow even when now you've only been sent back as a way for Seungkwan to right his wrongs.
Or so he thinks.
However, just as you are vain and you are prideful, Seungkwan is selfish and Seungkwan is intolerant of your disrespect. It could very well be a challenge not only sent by Jeonghan but by Seungcheol, to prove his worthiness and show that he can be perfect, too.
Not that any of the gods were perfect by any means.
He sighs, carefully pouring the mixture into a tin, where it'll slightly solidify and you'll be able to use it as a salve for your tired hands. And eventually, your tired feet, because you certainly won't have any downtime.
He carefully walks back towards his bedroom, the hot tin in his hand as he does so. Your head of curls is seen ducking into the room, and he tries to hold back his annoyance as he turns into the room as well.
"What are you doing here?" He announces as you throw open his shutters, the moonlight illuminating the room and your frame as you stare out the window at the rolling hills of his backyard. You don't look back at him as you take another bite of your apple, crossing your arms and leaning on the windowsill before responding around your food.
"I told you, this is my home now, too."
He doesn't respond, choosing to slide the hot tin onto his vanity before carefully slipping his shirt over his head, the worn wool tossed into a woven basket by the door. You're not looking at him, but he's hoping you'll get the hint and get out as he disappears into his closet. He removes the rest of his attire, grabbing his robe and tying it around himself before exiting the closet to see you now draped across his reading chair, a lit candle in your hand as you skimmed his open books.
"You have books in your room," he calls, and your eyes twinkle with something he can't place as you blow out the candle. He watches as you replace it gently, and push off his chair.
"Goodnight, wisest one."
You blow him a kiss as you skip out of his room, and he feels like he might be stuck in a constant state of déjà vu. He shakes his head, grabbing a towel before heading towards the bathroom. He sees your clothes still gathered on the floor, struggling not to roll his eyes as he drapes his towel over the rack, carefully picking your clothes up and placing them inside a wooden basket by the door. He turns the water on, and is about to take his robe off when he hears you knock at the door.
"Kwannie? Can I call you Kwannie?" You call, and he tongues his cheek in annoyance as he flings open the door.
"Yes, Y/N? How can I help you?"
You shrug, "I don't like my bed. Can I have yours?"
He scoffs out a laugh, before seeing you blink up at him owlishly. "You're not being serious."
"But I am, Kwannie! I'm a guest, you wouldn't let your guest sleep on that horrible bed, would you? You're a gracious host." Your hands are holding onto the fabric of his robe, your thumbs circling it before his hands are on your wrists, pulling them off him.
"You take what you're given, threadling." His voice is stern, and he's about to close the door when he sees the pout on your lips, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose before sighs. "Fine, take the bed."
"Really!?" You squeal, making him shut the door in your face.
"Don't. Just go to bed."
Seungkwan couldn't stop thinking after that. He quietly slipped into his bedroom after his bath, seeing you sound asleep with his pillow covered in your mess of curls. Your lips were slightly parted, slivers of your teeth illuminated by the moonlight. He took the moment to look closely at your face, a few surface-level scars scattered across your skin. Your eyes were thickly lashed and you had deep bags from lack of rest.
You left the other side of the bed with the covers pulled back, almost inviting him to slide in with you. He eyes it, taking the pillow and tucking it under his arm.
He sat at his desk, watching your even breathing as he slid the pillow against his lower back. He wonders who else you challenged and why they sent you back. He wonders why they gave you so many chances as a mere mortal, and why Seungcheol didn't strike you down the moment your insults gained wind.
"Stop staring at me."
Your voice rang through the room, and Seungkwan just tilted his head.
"No."
Your head moves up slightly, and you sigh. "Whatever."
You roll onto your side, facing away from the open window. The moonlight now shines on your back and legs, and he notes the way your feet peek out from under the wool blanket. Your toenails are painted in a chipped carmine, and he simply sighs to himself as he crosses his arms over his chest and attempts to get comfortable in the wooden rocking chair.
"You'd be much more comfortable on the bed." You call, and he hums in response. His head rests against the wooden rest, crossing his legs at the ankles as you sit up. "Seungkwan."
"Yes, threadling?" His eyes are closed, hands folded in his lap as he responds.
He shows no interest in what you could possibly have to say. You're just another chore to him, another mission he must complete to prove himself. He'd be a fool to fall for your charms, or your deceptions. You could flirt all you want, you could challenge him all you want – but he won't give in to you.
Not again.
THREE.
The night had continued without another word from either of you, and you were not in bed when he woke up. He heard the soft running of water and assumed you decided to bathe once more. Seungkwan's back was incredibly sore, but he rose with the sun anyway. He stretched on his patio, before retreating into the kitchen to make breakfast – spotting you tinkering in there already.
You're not wearing what he gave you yesterday – instead, a red, glittering sash from his collection bunched and pinned, tied around your waist like a skirt. It dropped to your mid-thigh, and your chest was covered by a pinned piece of white linen you'd likely found in his closet, something he didn't have use for.
You really knew how to make something out of almost nothing.
You stood in front of his stone oven, holding the wooden peel as a staff and tapping your bare foot against the marble floor. He peers over your shoulder to see a dimpled focaccia with halved cherry tomatoes and coarse salt above the flame. Your eyes are illuminated by the fire baking it, and your shoulders jump when you hear him speak behind you.
"What are you doing?"
"Making bread. We should really go to the market, you've run out of fish." You respond, gesturing to the table. He looks over his shoulder, seeing an array of fresh fruit and goat cheese neatly placed on plates from his cupboard. There is a pile of juiced oranges and a few carrot peels in his compost bin, and the juice sits in a pitcher next to the jar of honey.
"I left a salve for you on the vanity. Did you put it on?" He asks, not moving from behind you. You nod, holding up your free hand. Your fingers are freshly bandaged, this time in strips of linen. The salve was carefully spread around your fingertips.
"Why are you being so nice to me? You killed me off eight years ago, what makes now any different?"
Your question catches him a bit off guard. His head whips up to look at you, and sees you already staring down at home. The flame in your eyes is just as intense, if not more, than the one in the oven. It's like you resent him.
"I'm not a human. I don't have to admit or explain anything to you, we're not the same." He speaks with confidence, and it only makes your brow furrow deeper.
"You don't have to be human to admit your wrongdoings. You killed me off because I made you look bad, Seungkwan."
He scoffs, adjusting his pajama shirt. "I sent you to the Underworld because your ego was absolutely suffocating. I don't understand how anyone within a ten-foot radius wasn't crushed by the sheer weight of your hubris."
"Isn't this my land, too? Isn't this where I can express my feelings and my rights, where I can–"
His hand comes up, cutting you off just like he did the day you left.
"You are a human. You can train to be the best, you can try to do whatever you desire in this world. You will never be perfect, therefore you cannot compare where you don't compete."
He can tell the words hurt you as your eyes glaze over slowly, but you refuse to back down.
"I may not be perfect, but you're also far from it." You grumble, turning away from him to take the bread out of the oven. "Being a god means nothing. You're just like me, all you've got is something fancy to show for it. Something that proves that there are favorites in this world. Without your so-called wisdom, without your so-called perfect presentation, you'd be just like me."
He doesn't speak, feeling a bit of fury pool in his stomach.
You carefully pull the bread out of the oven, sliding it onto the cooling rack you left on the counter. You adjust the wooden peel against the wall, before turning to him with one last slip of your tongue.
"You may be a god. You may be good at what you represent, you may be rich in wealth and you may be handsome. Your fellow gods boast your compassion, but you've shown me none. You are nothing but a frail shadow of a man playing pretend, nothing but someone who lacks what life is truly rich with – love."
His eyes scan your face.
"What would you even know about love?"
He doesn't like the way you smile at him.
"You'd like to know, wouldn't you? You'd want me to tell you all my secrets, to show you what it's like to be normal and not have to live up to anyone's unrealistic expectations." You're stepping closer, a finger to his chest as you speak. "You'd love to know what the touch of a woman feels like, what it's like to be coddled and kissed and touched until you can't think anymore."
You're so close that your lips are brushing the shell of his ear now, and he can feel your lips curl into a smirk as you whisper.
"You want to be forgiven for your sins, but you know if you ever so much as think of telling anyone how much of a screw-up you really are, you'll be seen as less than. Less than your peers, and a disappointment to your elders. You want to be loved, but to be loved is to be known. I don't think you're ready for that."
He feels you brush past him, and his face heats in embarrassment as he hears your feet patter away, and the door of your bedroom shut tightly.
He ignores the tear that slips down his face, letting it drip onto the floor as he scans the array of breakfast once more. He's not hungry. He hates that you've chipped a bit away at his façade, he hates that you're able to read him so easily. It only means he has to try harder to dominate this relationship.
The rest of the day was filled with nothing but silence and tension.
After your encounter in the kitchen early that morning, it seemed you had no interest in interacting with Seungkwan. He didn't really care, taking the time instead to make the trip to the market. He'd heard you rustling about in your bedroom before he made his leave, and assumed you were trying to make yourself comfortable.
It'd begun raining after he left, making him agitated as he watched vendors put up their tarps in the market. He carefully roamed through the market, picking the best produce amongst the selections. He even stopped by a textile tent and picked out a few fabrics for you, assuming you'd need more clothing. He packed everything and made his way home, parasol over his shoulder as he arrived.
Only to enter the temple and see the oven aflame again, but you are nowhere near it. A loud roll of thunder sounds overhead, and he hears a soft sigh from the gardens. He leaves the items he got on the table, quickly making his way towards the garden doors to see you standing with your hands clasped behind your back, your clothing clinging to your skin as you let the rain drench you.
"You're going to get sick." He calls from the threshold, and you only peer over your shoulder at him. Shrugging, you turn back to look over the flower field he'd carefully curated, and he sees a few sprigs of lavender tucked over your ear. Your hair has been long soaked, sticking to your shoulders and back as he groans inwardly.
"Y/N, come inside."
"No." You turn to face him. "I like the way it feels."
"The rain? It's cold and you're wet, your clothes are ruined." He says pointedly, and you shrug once more, looking up at the sky.
"We were born naked, we will die naked. Who cares?"
"You're being existential and it's freaking me out, come inside." He rolls his eyes, and you tilt your head at him.
"Why don't you come out here? Have you ever danced in the rain?"
"I don't dance, Y/N. Now, come on. I won't ask again."
You seemingly oblige, slowly strolling back to the limestone and stopping a few feet in front of him. He steps to the side, assuming you'll walk inside. You shake your hand, holding your hand out. "Dance with me."
He rubs his temples, a grimace on his face. "Didn't you say Jeonghan told you to be on your best behavior? This doesn't seem like very good behavior."
"He said best behavior when you're bossing me around, not when I get to simply exist. It won't kill you to indulge me, aren't you supposed to be warm and welcoming?" You argue, your hand not dropping from where you've extended it.
"I'm supposed to guide you so you don't do something stupid, and you're here so I can ensure that your life can bring you something of fruit. Now, come inside, before I bring you in here myself." He's stern, but he can't help and notice the way your eyes flash as you take a step back.
"You're going to have to catch me, then." You're shrugging dramatically, and Seungkwan groans.
"Y/N, don't do this."
"I like it when you beg." You smirk, taking yet another step back. His jaw ticks and he sees you sprint off the limestone patio and into the flower field. He crosses his arms, letting you get as far as the marigolds before he sighs inwardly, stepping out into the rain and walking towards the field. "Gotta be faster than that, Seungkwan!"
He scowls at your teasing, feeling his stomach churn as he breaks into a jog, watching as you twirl into the zinnias. He doesn't like this, feeling like he's following your lead because you refuse to respect him as a god. He doesn't like the fact that he feels his shoulders less tense at the idea of it, and his mind has only the goal of dragging you inside before you get sick.
"Missed me, missed me!" You call, even making a show of doing a curtsy into the tulips. He's close enough to grab you, but waits. Your back is turned to him when he grabs your arm, pulling you to him.
"Y/N, this is not a game." He mutters as you let him tug you close, a smile on your lips proving your enjoyment at making him work to catch you.
"Yet, you played along." You reply coyly, before he rolls his eyes, and you nearly scream as he single-handedly throws you over his shoulder.
"No more of this. You're going to have a bath and we're going to eat and go to bed. The real work starts tomorrow."
You're silent as he walks the two of you back to the temple, feeling your cheeks hot at the placement of his ringed fingers around your thigh. You don't really like Seungkwan, because, well – you resent him for having sent you to the Underworld over friendly competition. But, you're still just a woman, and the feeling of his warm fingers gripping your skin was proof of carnal desire's existence within you.
He sets you down in the threshold, his nimble fingers making quick work of the pins in the makeshift skirt you'd wrapped yourself in earlier that morning. This seemed normal for him, gathering the pins between plump lips as he nearly ripped your top off. You weren't complaining, his knuckles brushing against your skin gently. "Go. Bathe. You'll get sick."
"Seems like an excuse just to see me naked, Seungkwan."
"Go." His voice holds a bite before he gathers your hair in his hand, carefully wringing the water out just outside the doorway. A soft push of his damp hand on your shoulder makes you move forward, and you make your way to the hallway, peering over your shoulder to see the god grimacing as he peels his own top off, a low whistle from your lips before you disappear down the hall.
You can hear him groan as he walks around, likely cold from the rain. "Would you like to join me?" You call, and hear a scoff from the kitchen.
He doesn't respond, and you hear the trickle of water into the sink. You assume he's wringing your clothes out, and you shrug as you draw yourself a bath once more. You scour his shampoo jars carefully, this time grabbing the citrus one. The bathroom quickly fills with soft basil and grapefruit notes, and you sink yourself into the warmth of the water.
You don't know how much time has passed when you hear a soft knock at the bathroom door, and Seungkwan clearing his throat before asking if he can come in. You hum in approval, choosing to keep your eyes closed as he opens the door. You wear the soft brush of his robe against the door, and you ignore the disappointment settling in your stomach.
"I got you these at the market. I figured we'd be able to make something of them." He holds up a few pieces of linen, different patterns catching your eyes as you peel them open. You nod excitedly, leaning over the edge of the tub to look closer.
"I have pins and sewing needles somewhere around here, we can get some measurements done when you're out." He says pointedly, giving you a quick once over before he holds up a towel and places it on the rack. "Be quick."
"Don't you also need a bath?" You ask, leaning your cheek on your palm.
He gives you a quizzical look. "Did you expect me to take it with you?"
"Would that kill you? To be enticed by a human?" Your smile is sly, but he rolls his eyes.
"Mortals and gods are meant to interact, Y/N."
"Have you ever slept with one?"
His brow furrows, before he scoffs. "Do you always ask such personal questions?"
Shrugging, you lean back into the water. "Just wanted to know. I know some humans like sleeping with gods, it makes them feel important or whatever." You roll your eyes, and he just waves you off.
"I've no need to sleep with a mortal. There's a certain insatiability to humans that I simply don't have time for." He states, and you look up at him with squinted eyes.
"You mean…?"
Sighing, he leans against the doorway of the bathroom. "Once you start messing around with humans like that, you can't stop. It's like…you feed off their mortality. You become addicted to how they feel, how they taste, how…vulnerable, they are."
He looks a little disgusted as he says this, but shakes it off as he looks at the linens in his hands. "It would make me an unjust god to involve myself that way. My job isn't to bring you…sexual gratification."
"Is that why Seungcheol is the way he is?" You ask, and you don't miss the way Seungkwan's eyes trail the way your legs peek over the soapy water. Shifting, his eyes snap back to yours, "No, Seungcheol is the way he is because he likes attention. He needs it to function."
Rolling your eyes, "He's the god of the sky, everyone practically worships him."
"Everyone but you, it seems." He says, and you smile at him.
"Am I supposed to?"
"My job is to guide you, but I won't tell you what you should or shouldn't do, you're a mortal. You've got free will." He clicks his tongue, before his fingers toy with the doorknob. "I'll be in my bedroom."
"Get pretty while you wait for me." You wink, and he scowls.
"You're such a brat."
The door closes before you can say anything, only a laugh from your chest as you unplug the drain, watching the water slide down. You rinse off with the running water, carefully squeezing your hair of excess as you step out of the tub, gingerly wrapping the towel around yourself and tucking the corner in.
Opening the door, you carefully walk down the hall to Seungkwan's room, hearing him rustle around before you knock. A muffled come in is heard, and you open the door to see him holding a few pins in his mouth as he drags a step stool to the center of the room. His eyes glance up at you, before he beckons you forward. You walk in, arms crossed over your chest as you watch him get situated.
"What's all this?" You peer at the materials he's laid out, seeing a pair of scissors oddly reminiscent of Wonwoo's style.
"I can't have you working under me without proper attire. So, we're going to do some measurements, and I'll have this done by morning."
"So I'm expected to be nude for the next few hours?" You scoff out a laugh, and he gives you a raised brow.
"I have a few robes, if that'll make you feel better? It doesn't bother me either way, it's your body."
"And you've never been attracted to a mortal?" You tease, causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose before taking a deep breath.
"You won't let this go, will you?"
"You may be a god, but you're also a man. Forgive me for assuming you think with both heads." You say, perching on the edge of the step stool and crossing one leg over the other. The towel bares your thighs, and he shakes his head.
"Not being intimate with mortals doesn't mean I don't feel lust or desire." He rolls his eyes, and you smirk at him.
"But you won't give into your desires because it shows you're just as human as any of us, right?"
He sighs, beckoning you to stand. "On the stool, please. Careful." He holds his hand out for the towel, and you peel it off slowly before handing it to him. He drapes it over the back of his desk chair as you step onto the flat seat of the stool.
He analyzes you carefully, walking around your nude body with his fingers tapping his lips. "Do you prefer your clothes loose?"
"On the bottom, easier access if I want to execute my free will." You use air quotes, and he snorts.
"All humans are the same, riddled with their own desire."
"I'm just a woman, Seungkwan. I have needs, too." You roll your eyes as he holds a piece of linen to your hip, before his other hand trails your back to meet the two corners of fabric together. He pins it carefully, before you speak again.
"So what do you do? When you're overwhelmed with want?" You make a show of your words, jazz hands around him as he drapes fabric in certain ways for a different flow.
He shakes his head, "Do I have to answer that?"
"What are you if not an honest god, Seungkwan?" Your teasing makes his jaw clench, you notice, but you say nothing as he pins the fabric in another spot. He doesn't respond, instead choosing to drape the fabric yet another way for more dimension.
A few more folds and pins later, he steps back and looks at his work. "Pretty?" He asks, turning you to face the mirror behind you, his hands on your hips as he watches your reaction change into a timid smile.
"Yeah, pretty."
"Perfect." He nods, unpinning it at the hip so it can stay together as it falls off and he drapes it across the bed carefully. "I'll sew this for you and it can be your outfit for tomorrow! I think you need sleepwear, right?"
He taps his chin as he thinks, scanning the remaining fabrics. "I don't mind sleeping like this, actually. I'd rather have more day clothing." You speak as you step off the stool, and he hums in response.
"Are you sure? It can get quite cold in the bedrooms." He says, reaching for a bright yellow piece of linen. He holds it up to your chest, a quizzical look in his eyes as he gazes at you carefully.
"You can warm me up if I get too cold, can't you?"
"What is it with you and these odd little questions, threadling? Are you attracted to me?" He rolls his eyes, not expecting you to shrug your shoulders.
"I'm human, not blind. I might not like you, but I can appreciate that you're nice to look at."
You worry his eyes might get stuck in his head if he keeps rolling them, but he shakes his head as he pins the yellow linen over your shoulder. "Humans, such odd creatures."
"Odd is good though." You say into the air, and he smiles as he raises your arm to pin the fabric against your ribs.
"Odd is good, you're right. It keeps me entertained."
"I'm not going to be your jester, if that's what you're alluding to." You warn, and he actually laughs, for the first time since you'd arrived.
"Nonsense, I'd never put you in that position."
"What about others?"
His face is closer than it had ever been as he pins the fabric around your neck, and he lets out a hum. "I guess we'll never know, will we?"
You're not satisfied with that answer, but Seungcheol made you good at everything – including luring people into your web of lust and yearning, making them a moth to your flame. Surely, Seungkwan was no different.
"But we could." You murmur, trailing your eyes down the soft curve of his jaw. Sighing, he steps back slightly and you feel his warm breath against your skin as he turns you to face the mirror once more.
He holds the loose fabric in his fingers, pulling it taut against your torso. "We'd pin this back here. What do you think?"
"I think you're avoiding my questions because you're scared of giving in to me." You say pointedly, watching his face in the reflection as he purses his lips.
"Do you like the draping or not, so we can try something else?"
"Yeah, I like it." You roll your eyes, feeling the fabric become loose once more as he lets it go, carefully moving around to unpin you. His fingers linger against your skin, before you're nude in front of the mirror once more.
This goes on for a while, different linens being draped across your body in almost an expert manner. Pins are carefully put in and pulled out, and soon his bed is covered in your carefully folded options and set aside to be finished for you.
"Here, I'm going to take a quick bath and then we need to eat dinner." He slides a robe over your shoulders, prompting you to slip your arms through the soft silk.
"So seeing me like this does nothing for you?" You try again, and he just chuckles in disbelief.
"Do you want me to compliment you or something? You realize I've seen plenty of naked bodies in my lifetime, right?" He says, replacing the stool in the corner of the room as you perch on the edge of the bed.
"Oh, I'm sure this is the norm for you. Just loads of beautiful women throwing themselves at you because they think you have something to offer them."
"And yet, they never get anything from me." He nods, not seeing the way your eyes widen.
"What?"
"Exactly what I said. You're not the first human to be in this temple, and you might not be the last. Everyone needs me for one thing or another, and once they've gotten their fill, they think I can offer to fill their carnal desires. I guess they see it as a payment, but it's honestly just a bit insulting." He shrugs, and you hum in response.
"So you've never…slept with a mortal?" You ask, leaning on your hands as he rustles through his closet, conjuring a towel and returning in yet another robe.
He shakes his head. "I never let it get that far."
"But you'll do other things? You'll let them touch you?" You prod, and he shrugs, with a smile.
"I like the game, not super into the prize. As much of a prize as a mortal can be, I guess. I know they don't really want me for me, so I just play along until they realize I won't be giving them what they want. At least, not fully."
"What does that mean, though?" You call as he begins to take his walk down to the bathroom, and he sighs loudly.
"Why does it matter, angel?"
Your lip twitches at the pet name. You choose not to respond, instead letting the conversation seep into your mind and hopping off the bed, making a beeline for the kitchen.
Might as well make myself useful, you think.
It doesn't take long to prepare a light dinner. Wine, oiled bread and carefully speared fruit. You're forcing a skewer through lamb chunks when you hear him wander into the kitchen, the top notes of his minty soap slightly overwhelming.
You are just a woman, after all.
"Lamb?" He asks, and you can feel the heat of his body behind you.
You hold up the skewer, nodding, "I figured it'd be quick and easy. I'd like to get to bed early, you said tomorrow would be my demise."
"You're dramatic, that is not what I said." He snorts, moving away from you to get the fire started. The two of you work in unison to get dinner on the flame, opting to sit on the same side of the table and sip your wine as you stare at the fire.
"Do you ever feel lonely?" You ask, resting your wine in the dip of your lap. He shakes his head.
"No. I've heard a lot about that, though. Humans feel like they need someone, or something, to fill a void. I think it's just a feeling of emptiness because they've yet to love themselves and choose to fill the hole with material things, or attempt to patch it with someone else."
He sips his wine as you gawk at him, a scoff from your throat.
"That's not at all what that means, Seungkwan."
His head lolls to the side, a smile on his lips. "Isn't it, though? What do you take it to mean?"
Okay, maybe he's right. Maybe.
"It means that you…the human emotion is very complex, you know? It means wanting more, it means being satisfied with yourself but wanting companionship. It means–"
"It means humans are greedy." He interrupts, and you almost miss the way he inches a little closer. "It means all you do is take, and take, and take. Humans are slaves to the desires they feel, you don't really need anyone to be happy or fulfilled. It's all a human concept."
Your nose scrunches as you grimace, and he sighs, sliding his cup onto the table. "Humans act like loneliness is…for example, you see the stars." He gestures to the window above the counter, the sky now clear and the moonlight floods into the kitchen.
"Humans want to say that loneliness is the stars in the sky looking wrong. Or, they make up things like speaking to the moon and hoping their lover is somewhere else, looking at that very same moon and doing the same. Humans are experts in yearning, because of that free will you've been granted." He states, and you slide closer to him, your thigh bumping his.
"So you've never yearned for anyone?" You ask, looking slightly down at him as he leans back onto the table.
He shakes his head, "I've never had anyone be worth enough to pine after. I'm just not the kind of god that needs that fulfillment, like Seungcheol or Wonwoo."
"So you don't think any mortal and god love stories could be successful? Or any love stories, in general? Have you got a glacier for a heart?"
He hums, "I do think it's possible, to love and to be loved. However, let's take Mingyu and Tzuyu, for example. Mingyu fell in love with her after striking himself with one of his own arrows. They've been inseparable since, but that doesn't mean they have a beautiful love story. It started as an honest mistake, and now they've been together for as long as I can remember."
"Don't you remember how much Tzuyu fought for him after she betrayed him? How she faced his mother, who wanted her dead, to win him back? You don't think she loves him after all she suffered to earn him, and then Mingyu taking her to Seungcheol to make her into a goddess, moved by her love and dedication for him? You don't think that's far more than just a mistake?"
"What, you believe in fate?" He asks lazily, and you scoff.
"Yes! I do! I believe they were destined to be together!" You argue, and he smiles.
"You would believe that, yeah. After all, Tzuyu was a mortal. Maybe you want the same for yourself."
Your brows furrow, and you knock his shoulder gently. "I would never want to become a goddess, I'd rather die than fall in love with some god who thinks he's too good for me."
"Oh, but isn't that what Mingyu did? Fall in love with a mortal despite being better than her, and bringing her to his world to have her forever?" He raises a brow, and you scowl.
"Mingyu doesn't think that he's better than Tzuyu, otherwise he would have never asked Seungcheol to turn her into a goddess."
Seungkwan sits up, his face now mere inches from yours as he speaks. "She betrayed his trust, after he said he could never see his face. Don't you know why that is?"
"Have you ever thought that maybe it was to protect her?!" You tongue your cheek in annoyance, the acknowledgement of knowing maybe you're subtly wrong appearing on your face. He smiles, returning to his original position before sighing.
"You're somewhat right, I guess. But, I get it. I can see why that's a beautiful love story to you, full of forgiveness and dedication for a lover. Even if it did start off wrong, some of the most amazing stories never have very clean beginnings." He nods, before standing to retrieve the now cooked skewers from the fire.
You eat silently, the two of you still staring at the fire as you chew. Seungkwan swipes his napkin across your lip a few times, and you find yourself missing the touch as you clean up. He finishes off his wine, and yours once you offer it, and diligently washes both cups as the cicadas chirp outside the window.
Following behind him as he leads the way, you're hesitant to walk past him to your own bedroom. You'd lied about the bed, it was fine. In fact, you were sure it was better than Seungkwan's.
"Something on your mind, angel?" He asks as you stop a few feet from your door, and you can almost hear the smug smirk on his face. You tap your foot, wondering if you should admit to the silly little fear of yours. "Closed mouths don't get fed." He calls again, and you huff, turning on your heel and walking to stand in front of him.
"Can I sleep with you tonight?" You mutter, hearing his tongue click and echo around the temple.
"Why? And it's not that my bed is better than yours, I know that."
You scowl, "I don't like sleeping alone. I don't like the dark."
His amused look is hidden by his hand over his mouth, a pout on your own as you cross your arms. "You're such a human."
"You're being mean." Mumbling, you push past him and tug the covers off his bed. He watches you silently, your robe sliding off your body and pooling at your feet before you slide into the warm duvet. He bites back a laugh, before stepping into the room and gently closing the door behind him. Walking up to the bed, he picks the robe up and hangs it on the bedpost, before rounding the frame and copying your movements on the opposite side. Your eyes are open, and you watch as he slips in next to you.
"Stay on your side. You can obey that, right?" He says into the air, facing away from you as he pulls the cover over his waist. Your eyes trail his back, shoulders slightly tensed as he gets comfortable. You want to reach out and touch him, but choose to clench your hands under your pillow, before sighing and turning the other way.
"Goodnight, Seungkwan."
"Goodnight, angel."
FOUR.
Somehow, Seungkwan was on the other side of the bed.
You were nestled into his naked torso, your lips pouted against his neck. Your hair was a mess around you, your leg flung over his waist as you slept soundly. He rolls his eyes, wondering how to get out of the position without waking you. It's barely dawn, he likes some time to himself before dealing with the mortals that are honestly the bane of his existence.
He gently wraps his fingers around your knee, moving you off his body with precision. He'd never let any of the other mortals sleep in his bed, much less with him, but he knows it's the guilt from killing you off years ago.
Unfortunately, Seungkwan is far too aware of his wrongs. In the past, he'd gotten scolded by several of his peers due to his harsh nature. He and Vernon got drunk over an aged wine a few years after your disappearance and Seungkwan admitted he'd jumped the gun on punishment.
What he didn't know was that Vernon spoke to Seungcheol about it, who then spoke to Jeonghan about it. That's how they came up with sending you back to Seungkwan for your last chance at life, maybe you could right your wrongs with each other. You both struggle with pride and yearn to be perfect, never wanting to admit when you're wrong.
But you were human, you knew you couldn't be perfect. You had a softer heart, not having seen the things Seungkwan had seen or lived the life he'd known. Seungkwan had built his walls up nice and high, and rarely let anyone in to take a peek. You in his bed was something he'd never allow if you were just anyone.
He knows it's also his attraction for you coming to the surface. It didn't take a genius to realize that it was this he'd been looking for in every lover he'd ever tried to have – your witty remarks, your obvious disinterest in him or his skills as a god. You weren't looking at him as some being worth worshiping, but someone who needed to be loved, to be held together and forgiven – despite resenting him.
He knows you can't possibly know how much his past decisions weigh on him, but it is scary to think that you can sense something about him. You know something, something that makes him feel uneasy, and it's what's inside. You know his pain, his truth, his heart.
Sighing, he softly rolls you onto your back, covering your bare frame with the duvet. It's only half true, what he said about your body – he's amazed at every curve and dimple, he wants to run his hands all over you until the end of time. He likes the way your hips swing as you walk, the bounce in your step and how soft your cheeks are. How soft you are.
What kind of god is he if he gives into his desires? If he sinks his teeth into you like a cat catching a mouse, if he lets you teeter him around like a puppet for just a taste of you? What kind of god is he if he lusts after you when he knows getting involved with mortals won't end well for him, especially when he knows the moment you sink your claws into him, he'd be a goner?
Not much of a god then, is he?
"Don't go." You murmur, eyes still closed and brows scrunched as you touch his wrist. He jolts slightly, but moves to pull away anyway. "I have to. I need to make your clothes." He whispers back, the sun beginning to peek in through the open window.
Pouting, you pull him closer. "Just a little longer."
"The sky's awake, angel. I have to be up." He works your fingers off his wrist, splaying your hand across his pillow. "I'm still in the room, I'm not going anywhere."
This seems to be enough for you, as he grabs the robe you wore the night before and shrugs it on. He wipes at his eyes carefully, stretching before he slides off the bed. He tucks the corner of the duvet under the pillow, watching your fingers grasp at the pillowcase.
He moves around quietly, gathering the linens he'd pinned for you the night before. He sits at his desk, opening his drawer to get his glasses out and prepares needle and thread. Glancing up, he sees you pouting still, burying your face into his pillow with a sigh – and feels a twinge in his chest.
Zeroing back in, he quietly sews the linen as the sun rises slowly. You toss and turn, frustrated sounds coming from the direction of his bed enticing him to look over – but he doesn't. It's not until he accidentally pricks his finger with a pin that he notices you've gotten up and are settling on the floor next to his chair.
"What are you doing, threadling?" He asks, almost as if he doesn't really care what you're doing.
"Can't sleep." You mutter, reaching your fingers out to touch his ankle as you lay down, wrapping yourself like a burrito in the blanket. He peers down at you, seeing the way your fingers ghost over his skin when he sighs, pushing his chair back carefully.
"Alright, come on. Get up."
You groan up at him, feeling him move away from your fingertips as you sit up. "What?"
He doesn't respond, choosing to walk away from you and sink back into the bed. He huffs a bit, trying to hide the giddy feeling in his stomach as he sees you slowly approach. "Quickly, before I change my mind."
You climb onto the bed at that, abandoning the blanket on the floor as you lay next to him, your arm loosely wrapping around his torso as he pulls the duvet over you. "Don't lay on the floor again, okay? Just ask me to come back."
"I did, you left me anyway." You murmur, a sad look etched on your brows before you sigh into his robe. He stops himself from comforting you, his fingers aching to run through your wild hair and biting back his apology. He sits silently, letting you drift back asleep holding his hip.
He doesn't like wasting the day. He knows he should pry himself away, and pull you out of bed too. He just can't bring himself to disturb your peace that way.
He gives in, his fingers gently stroking your hairline, moving stray hairs off your face. You lean into the warmth of his hand as he moves the hair off your neck, thumbing the shell of your ear carefully before clearing his throat.
"We've got a busy day, Y/N. We need to get up."
His fingers graze your neck softly, before his thumb caresses your jaw. You sigh into the air as you open your eyes, looking up at him. "It's so early."
"Early bird gets the worm. You've yet to have breakfast and get dressed. Come on." He's speaking softly, his thumb now tracing circles into your soft cheeks. He can't help it, pinching the fat gently before moving away.
Thankfully, you don't question his actions, just sluggishly throw the duvet off your body. He holds up the skirt from before, the ruby red material glittering in the light. "This one, yes? And the pink top? Or the white one?"
"What is this, dress-up?" You yawn, and Seungkwan frowns. "Be nice, I made this for you."
"Sorry, oh wisest one. Dress me like a doll." You stand and stretch your arms up, and he rolls his eyes as he carefully wraps the skirt around you, feeling your hands on his shoulders as he pins it in place.
"Maybe I'll add a little drawstring so it's more secure, hm?" He's speaking to himself, but you nod anyway.
"Arms up." He says, before tugging the soft white shirt over your head, carefully slipping your arms through. "There we go. What do you think? Pretty?"
He turns you to face the mirror once more, hands on your hips as you sleepily look at yourself. You nod in silence, and he cards his fingers through your hair gently, pulling it back and pulling a piece of white ribbon out of his pocket. He ties the hair back carefully, the ribbon looped into a bow. "So it won't get in the way. Oh, and I'll get my leathersmith started on some shoes for you sometime this week. You'll just be indoors today, so don't worry about getting hurt."
You're peering at him through the mirror, your hands folded in front of you as you speak. "Why do you ask if I think the outfit is pretty?"
He raises a brow, "Why the question?"
"You asked if I think I look pretty. Why does it matter? It's just us." You shrug, the flowing material of the skirt flowing smoothly as you turn to face him. "And it's not like you'd tell a mortal she's pretty, would you?"
Seungkwan can feel that same guttural guilt he felt earlier slowly begin to slip away. He couldn't figure you out – you could be so sweet, so flirty and pouty, and then you could be this. Defiant, bratty, argumentative.
"Can't I want to know if you feel good in what I'm making for you? Would you rather I make you wear a sack? Or walk around nude for anyone to see you?" He scoffs, seeing you smile inwardly. "Does anyone involve you?"
He doesn't respond, shaking his head as he sinks into his closet.
Yeah. Anyone involves him, and probably just him.
The morning was messy.
You and Seungkwan bickered over breakfast, ending with the entire kitchen being covered in flour, spilled milk all over the floor and broken eggs across the counter. He'd pulled a recipe from his collection and said that since this was day one of you officially working under him, you'd have to learn how to cook, clean, tend to the garden, amongst other things. You didn't think a dozen biscuits would make you snap.
He'd watched you carefully the entire time, correcting you every time you were wrong with an almost hawk-like precision. It began to irritate you, so you started to make snide remarks. Something about him looking down on you, something about him not trusting you to make a stupid recipe. He'd given you a hard look and said that measuring was important, prying the wrong measuring spoon out of your hand.
It took a bit more of Seungkwan saying that's wrong, wrong measurement…for you to throw an egg at him. You missed just barely, with Seungkwan grimacing as the egg splattered and slid down the wall. You mixed angrily as he watched the egg pool on the floor, before his eyes took in the mess you'd made all over the kitchen – spilling milk from him telling you that you poured too much, flour dusted all over the floor from him telling you to let the dough rest before you molded it.
It resulted in Seungkwan leaving the kitchen to collect himself, before returning to seeing you watching the dough intensely. Your impatience would be the bane of his existence.
Neither of you spoke after the portioned dough went into the oven. Jaws tense, shoulders rigid as you moved around each other to clean up. Or rather, as you cleaned up and he sliced fruit for breakfast.
It seemed that neither of you really wanted to do anything else, either, as you watched Seungkwan tinker around the garden alone. He'd said nothing about needing space, but you figured it was probably what was best – so you dragged the stepstool to his bedroom window and watched as he carefully picked flowers from the garden, your eyes drawn to the decorative patches of daisies.
You felt a bit like a prisoner. Nobody had told you whether or not you were allowed to leave, or go beyond the temple. You were sure Seungkwan wouldn't force you to stay here, after all, he'd reminded you quite a bit of your free will. Free will that you can't really act on, because then you'd be invading him.
It felt almost like a betrayal, the way your body responded to seeing him again. Like he'd grown more interesting to your brain, something sunken in the back of his gaze that said maybe he liked seeing you, too. It was annoying, how you felt this overwhelming need to be around him, even if you knew you just wanted to bicker and bother and nag him. You wanted him to be sorry, you wanted him to show you he was sorry for what happened between you all those years ago.
Unfortunately, you also know well enough to understand why he did it. Pride, the easiest sin of all, had marked you as its prey. And it's fine. You're fine, you think, because if Seungkwan can sin so can you.
Sighing to yourself, you've seen that the god has vanished from the garden. Your eyes gaze upon the vast garden, searching for him when you hear his light footsteps echoing in the temple. You refuse to look back, hearing him enter the bedroom as you cast your eyes to the windowsill. A butterfly rests carefully, when you hear him clear his throat.
"I'll be going into town. Don't expect me home before nightfall."
You turn quickly, your eyes wide. "Can I go, too? I don't want to be locked away here like some damsel in distress."
He shakes his head, "Not tonight. I'm just meeting a friend. You can go wherever you please, but I bought something for you from an old student of mine. I'd like you to be here to receive it."
He's rolling his sleeves up, and you see now the basket of flowers he'd been gathering placed gingerly on the vanity. "Are the flowers for her?"
"Her?" He echoes, and you narrow your eyes. "It's a her, right? The friend you're meeting?"
"Jealousy isn't a good look on you, angel." He taunts, before swiping his hair back carefully. "Again, I'll be back before nightfall. Roam the gardens, meet the few neighbors we have, do as you please. Make sure you eat dinner."
In a way, you feel like a neglected housewife.
"You're leaving now?" You don't mean to sound so sad, so small. So…needy.
He looks at you over his shoulder, a raised brow. "You don't want me to?"
You don't say anything, flitting your eyes to the flowers on the vanity. He sighs, walking towards you and reaching for the window shutters. He pulls them closed, "Looks like rain, anyway."
"No, go. You can go, don't stay because of me." You rush out, standing quickly. He glances at you carefully, eyes narrowed. "It's Mingyu and Tzuyu, they'll understand."
"Please, go. It'll do me some good to be alone with my thoughts for a while." You nearly clasp your hands together in prayer, as if begging him to leave. He's hesitant, eyes scanning your features quickly before nodding.
"I'll be home soon, okay?"
You nod as he inches back towards the doors, and you pull the shutters back open, letting the setting sunlight back in. He takes the basket of flowers gingerly and you retake your seat on the stool quietly, before calling out to him.
"See you later."
Seungkwan can barely hold himself up as he nears the temple. Mingyu and Tzuyu offered to drop him off after their dinner together, but he refused – insisting he needed some time to think.
Tzuyu had asked about his latest pupil – upon hearing that it was you, she nearly choked on her wine. He simply focused on his mushroom soup, insisting he didn't really care.
Mingyu hadn't bought it, and casually dropped you into conversation every chance he got. He waxed poetic about the way a mortal loves, the way they feel, the way they taste. Everything Seungkwan had been told was like a drug – and something he couldn't bring himself to indulge in any more than he already had – despite it not ever doing much for him. He had even told you so – mortal and god relationships weren't for the faint of heart, for eventually, it'd be the god left standing alone.
So, no. He wouldn't indulge – even if the god of love himself was encouraging it.
Mingyu and Tzuyu were a special case. It wasn't everyday Seungcheol had something pull at his heartstrings, such as the love between the couple had. A love that proved imperfection could be overlooked, that Mingyu's heart sang for Tzuyu as the birds did every morning.
Seungkwan just blinked and drank his wine, keeping quiet as the trio eventually scoured the market.
He had seen a few things he thought you'd like – many a ball of yarn, skirts that wouldn't fall lower than your mid-thigh woven from dyed silk and sparkled with glued rhinestones. But one thing caught his eye most – a gold necklace with a small emerald pendant.
Representing growth and renewal, the emerald mocked him. Representing you returning to the Overworld to change, and choosing to change for the better. He bought it, and shoved it in his pocket as Mingyu and Tzuyu perused new linens for their home.
Seungkwan understood that he could desire you. He could, and that it was perfectly okay to get involved with you. It was perfectly okay to explore your body, to become one with you, to let you into his heart and let you make yourself at home in it. His fear wasn't in the commitment or the fact that it was you, someone he'd hurt so long ago – but the fact that your suspicions of his imperfection would ring with truth. He knew he wasn't perfect, he knew that he had his flaws – but what kind of a god was he to admit that to a mortal?
At this point, he considers admitting it to himself to be progress.
Sighing, he grabs the pillar of the temple to steady himself. He'd drunk a bit too much to stand up straight, but he was coherent enough to hear you toss and turn as he entered the sacred home. Your groan was evident, as was the thwip of his bedsheets as he quietly walked down the hall.
He tugs his shirt over his head before opening the door softly, watching as you shoot up in bed with the duvet covering your chest.
"You're home." You breathe out, and he just nods silently, stumbling into the closet and fumbling around as he peels his clothes off. He hears the clatter of the necklace he bought on the marble tile, before looking down and picking it up. He holds it up to the moonlight, before grabbing his robe and shrugging it on, slipping the jewelry into his pocket.
He doesn't acknowledge you as he walks to the bathroom, beelining for his toothbrush. He could bathe in the morning – he just wants to lie down next to you and breathe you in.
"How was it?" You call as he trudged back, his hands shoved in his pockets as he slightly swayed from side to side. Shrugging, "Ate. Talked to Mingyu and Tzuyu. Got a little drunk, I'm definitely going to feel it in the morning. Sorry."
You smile at him, shaking your head before pulling the duvet back as he reaches the side of the bed. You're sitting with your knees to your chest, and he catches a glimpse of the skirt you were wearing earlier hung across the back of his desk chair. "Do you ever wear clothes to bed?"
"Just when you make me." You shrug, and he shakes his head, biting back a smile. "I got you something."
You quickly tuck your legs under yourself as you sit up, the duvet falling off your body and the moonlight illuminating your skin. He tears his eyes away, pulling his hand out of his pocket and holding up the necklace. Your hand floats to your chest, having abandoned your own necklace in the bathroom the day you arrived at the temple. It felt too heavy, then. Too synonymous with your first life.
"It represents growth. You're making a choice to grow as a person, and make better decisions. No matter the reason behind it, you're still attempting to make amends and I think that deserves a small reward."
Your eyes are wide as you stare at him, his fingers carefully unclasping it and beckoning you closer. He watches as you scoot to the edge of the bed, wary of him as your knees touch his thighs. "I don't bite, you know. Not unless you want me to."
"Haha, very funny." You roll your eyes, and he raises an eyebrow before his hands ghost over your skin. His fingers carefully hold your hair out of the way as he clasps the necklace around your neck, the pendant sitting low on your chest. He fixes it, twisting it so the gem faces out. "I expect you to treasure this."
You blink up at him, before wrapping your arms around him and enveloping him in a soft embrace. "Thank you." You whisper, and he feels himself tense up as you squeeze gently. His hands ghost over your back, before slightly shaky fingers touch the warmth of your skin.
"You're welcome, angel. Did you eat dinner like I said?" He asks, not having the courage to pull away from you, not when your warmth feels so…something. You nod against his chest, your cheek pressed against his skin making him feel a little hot.
"It wasn't much, I didn't like being by myself."
"I'm here now, angel. I'll take you with me next time, I promise." He reassures, feeling his stomach feel with giddiness at the thought of spending time with you around his friends. Okay, that involves admitting Mingyu was right – but he doesn't need to touch base on that just yet.
"Oh, your friend dropped by." You make no move to get out of his grasp, his fingers now subconsciously tracing circles into your lower back. "Mmh? Did you like your gift?"
He'd asked Chan to source a loom for you. He knew it was something you liked, and probably something that could fill any free time that he managed to have. He knew it'd remind you of your father, too, and he wanted something to give you a sense of belonging.
"I love it. Thank you." You murmur, and he feels your lips press lightly into his chest. Warmth blooms in his cheeks as he pulls away from you, his hands sliding up your body and now resting on your shoulders.
"We'll be in the garden tomorrow, so we should get some rest."
You nod, laying back onto the bed, inching over to your side (that wasn't really your side, just 'yours' because you refused to sleep in your room.) He hung his robe on the bedpost, and slid under the covers, facing away from you and urging the heat in his body to go away. HIs mind doesn't get to wander much further, though, as your sigh is the last thing he hears before he hears before he feels his eyes heavy with sleep.
He could think about it tomorrow.
FIVE.
Okay. This is normal. This happens to everyone. This happens to everyone.
…He's not everyone.
He's trying to convince himself that your ass pressed against him isn't affecting him in any way, shape or form. He's trying to think of the most disgusting things to make his hardening cock go down so he doesn't wake you so lewdly. He can't even fucking move away from you, because somehow, throughout the night – you managed to get him to spoon you, and now your fingers are interlocked with his over the top of his hand.
He's literally trapped between a rock (hard boner) and a hard place (again…his boner.)
He tries not to let his internal panic show as he controls his breathing, carefully trying to pull himself out of your grasp. He feels your grip tighten around his hand, and peers over to see your brows furrowed and lip jutted out in a pout.
"Stay." You murmur, obviously completely oblivious to his predicament.
"I have to get up, angel." He wiggles his fingers under yours, making you sigh discontentedly. "You said you'd stay if I asked."
He did. He did say that.
"I know, angel, I know. I'll come back, I promise." He murmurs, and he sees you peel open one of your eyes and gently twist your head to look at him. Your eye scans his face, before you close it and turn back.
"If you want me to help you, I can. It doesn't have to mean anything."
He chokes slightly, seeing you snuggle your face further into your pillow.
He wants to. He really, really wants you to touch him, he wants to feel you all over him. He wants to hold you close and feel everything you have to give him, taking everything you want to give him.
He feels your thumb gently stroking his knuckles, the cool metal of your ring startling before you speak softly. "It's just me. I won't hold it against you if you don't want to, or if you do. It's normal."
Your reassurance isn't something he expected nor knew he needed. He clears his throat, before the warmth of your hand has moved. You're turning to face him, peering up at him with sleepy eyes. You're so beautiful.
He doesn't realize he's staring at you until he feels your nails gently raking up and down his torso. Your eyes are drinking him in carefully, before they ultimately close again and you nuzzle your nose into his neck without a word. Your fingertips graze the tip of his cock, making his hips jerk involuntarily as a whine rips through him. He hasn't been touched by anyone that isn't himself in years.
And now, it's you. Your hands, your body, you.
"Can I make you feel good? Please?" You press soft kisses into his neck, nipping lightly at his skin. He nods quickly, a muffled yes slipping past his lips as he covers his mouth with his hand. You push him onto his back gently, trailing kisses down his neck and chest as you take his weeping cock in your soft hand. You hold it as your teeth graze at any inch of skin you can reach, before looking up at him.
"I can't kiss you, right?"
He can feel his heart ache at the slight…sadness? in your tone, and the way it shows in your eyes as he shakes his head no. "I…"
"You what? You're sorry?" You roll your eyes, squeezing his length gently. "Don't be, gorgeous."
He doesn't get a chance to respond before your tongue is on him, running carefully along the underside of his cock. He covers his mouth with his hand, a shudder running through his body as you spit in your hand, stroking him slowly and pressing kisses all over his stomach. His free hand grips the duvet, before you slot your fingers in his.
You don't look at him as you take him in your mouth, your tongue licking gently as he groans softly. His fingers squeeze around yours, and you hum to yourself as you sink further down his length, gagging around his tip as his hips buck. A whimper from his throat tears through the air as you stroke what doesn't fit, hollowing your cheeks slightly.
He's holding back noises, the room filling with the wet sound of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Soft huffs of yeah, murmurs of holy f-fuck only spur you on further, feeling his hand untangle from yours to card through your hair and move your head up and down at his leisure. His grip tightens as you swirl your tongue around his tip.
"Oh my…" He whines, and you tease your tongue down the thick vein. "Oh my…what? Oh my God?"
He scoffs at you, but his words fade on his tongue as you sink down on him again. You gag around him, pulling a throaty moan from his bitten lips as he cants into your mouth. "S-Sorry, I can st–"
You groan around him, feeling his tip twitch as it touches the back of your throat again. He whimpers, his release spilling into your mouth. It's a little salty as it coats your tongue, but you slide him out with a pop. Your tongue diligently cleans the mess, overstimulating him as he squirms, pushing your head back.
You trail soft kisses up his torso, nipping at his chest before moving up his neck. You peer down at him, eyes locked with his as he blinks up at you. "All better, right?" You say gently, and feel your chest swell with pride, seeing his cheeks tinge pink as he looks away.
Shrugging, you brush his hair out of his eyes, kissing his cheeks lightly. You press a kiss to the tip of his nose, smiling as he scrunches it. Lowering your head, your teeth tug at his earlobe before you speak softly.
"Always an angel, never a god." You murmur, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you slink off the bed. You stand up straight, stretching your arms over your head with a soft groan.
You don't see his humiliated expression, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you make your way out of the bedroom. You don't see the way he covers himself with the blanket as you turn into the bathroom, or the way he hides his face in his hands and angrily wipes at his eyes.
Always an angel, never a god.
The day went by quietly.
You bathed and made breakfast, and stayed…mostly true to your word. You didn't bring up anything that happened that morning, and Seungkwan didn't say anything about your condescending comment afterwards. He chose to spend his day in the garden, even as the rain started falling.
You watched from the doorway, holding the cloth he'd given you right after breakfast. He'd instructed you to wash the windows around the temple, and you'd done so without a fight. A part of you felt that today wasn't a day to mess with him, but you also figured that what you'd said this morning was enough to knock him off the pedestal he'd put himself on.
You felt a little guilty, but was it not the truth?
What kind of a god is he to fall prey to your temptation? What kind of a god is he to take from you what he's not willing to give, to your knowledge? What kind of god is he, to judge you for being lustful, to judge you for yearning for another's touch, when yours made him come undone?
Not a very good one, that's what. Right?
You watched him as the rain fell, the way his brows furrowed as he continued picking flowers and wrapping herbs with twine. He walked around like the rain did nothing, and you sighed inwardly. You turned on your heel, abandoning the bucket of soapy water and the cloth in lieu of entering the kitchen, rooting around for his kettle. You'd grabbed a towel earlier and draped it over the back of the dining chairs, hoping he'd come in eventually.
He'd want something warm, you think.
You busy yourself with making a warm tea, hearing Seungkwan groan as he slips his wet clothing off at the entrance. You hear the wet plop of the clothing dropping on the floor, and you hear his teeth chatter a bit as you peek your head around the corner.
His chest was blooming with evidence of your teeth on him from earlier. You feel your chest fill with heat as you notice the prominent trail of love bites down to his waist. Your eyes widen as you grab the towel, silently trekking the expanse between you and holding it out to him. He gives you a frown.
"Take it, you'll get sick." You grimace, and he ignores you as he kicks off his shoes, his fingers toying with the buckle of his belt. He pulls it through the loops, tossing it to the side when you huff, shoving the towel into his chest. "You're going to get sick!"
"I don't need your help, Y/N." He shoves it back, and you scowl, the words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them.
"You didn't mind my help this morning. Take the fucking towel."
His eyes narrow as he chooses to turn away, shoving his pants down his legs and kicking the soaked material out of his way. "I didn't need it then."
"You're such a fucking brat, Seungkwan." You throw the towel on the ground as he pushes past you, heading towards the bathroom. You storm back into the kitchen, your brain telling you to dump out the tea.
Unfortunately, you don't quite listen to your brain very often. You pour the tea into a cup, hearing the rain slow down. Looking out the kitchen window, you see it stop entirely. You start to think the rain is symbolic of every time you have a spat with Seungkwan, and you wouldn't put it past Seungcheol to try and Pavlov that idea into your brain.
Grimacing, you stir in a spoonful of honey. The only water you hear now is that of the running faucet in the bathroom, and you felt your chest heavy as you think of Seungkwan.
How his skin felt under your bruised fingers. The way he tasted. Something soft, balanced. How he reacted and how he forced himself to hold back, how his fingers felt as they squeezed your hand for dear life.
You shake your head, biting down hard on your cheek to ground yourself. This was ridiculous. Today was only the fourth day of him…'mentoring' you. It seems that the two of you had forgotten that that was why you were sent here – to 'develop' your skills, to 'embrace' your mortality, to 'find yourself.'
Quite the contrary – it felt an awful lot like you were losing yourself in this. In him, the comfort of his bed, the warmth of his touch and attention. You weren't complaining – truthfully, it'd been a long time since you felt desired, or any sort of desire bubbling within you. There was that one time with Wonwoo six years ago, and that oddball moment with Jeonghan right after your fourth visit to the Underworld.
This…felt different.
You felt guilty, you felt like you weren't putting your best foot forward. With Jeonghan and Wonwoo, it was something that happened in the heat of the moment. Something that was for the instantaneous satiation of both parties, and you were never one to shy away from a night of fun with anyone – including mortals. You'd had your fair share in just your first life, why would you stop now?
Seungkwan…felt like something just out of your reach, as much as you hated to admit it. He felt like something you had to work towards, someone you had to prove yourself to. He held himself in a high regard, with standards that you weren't so sure you met.
But he looked at you with such an intense mix of disdain…and desire. Something that screamed he didn't want to look at you as anything more than yet another pupil, but he couldn't help his eyes from wandering. He could lie to you all he wanted, but you feel different.
Sighing, you leave the tea on the table, clasping your hands behind your back. You walk silently out of the kitchen and down the hallway, passing the bathroom just as Seungkwan opens the door. He gives you a quizzical look but you continue on anyway, making your way to your bedroom.
The place is barren aside from the bed, the lamp, a pair of nightstands and the loom you were given. The floor is colder here than the rest of the temple, and you don't know if that's on purpose or not. You flop onto the bed with a grunt, your head hitting the pillows and you stare at the ceiling.
What is the point of you being here, anyway?
You and Seungkwan hardly speak. He's not teaching you anything you don't already know – even if baking a dozen biscuits isn't your strong suit, you can make a decent batch. You know how to pick pretty flowers, you know how to make tea, you can make clothes and you can certainly weave a damn good tapestry.
Why can't you just keep doing that? Why can't you just keep your word to Seungcheol and Jeonghan and stay out of Seungkwan's way?
"It's because we don't trust you."
You jolt out of the bed, your head just barely missing the edge of the nightstand as you fall off. You feel your shoulder hit the corner of an open drawer, drawing a loud fuck! from your lips.
"What the fuck are you doing here?!" You groan from the floor, and Jeonghan just chuckles as he hops through the open window, rounding the bed to kneel beside you. You sit up, rubbing furiously at your shoulder in attempts to soothe the shooting pain.
"A little bird told me you were being a bad girl, Y/N."
"Oh fuck off, I was not!" Whining, you look at the already bruising skin under your shirt. You scoff, peering up at Jeonghan, who smiles down at you. "So what do you call sleeping with the enemy?"
"I did not sleep with him! I merely performed a sexual act for him. God forbid I have a little fun." You scowl, and Jeonghan pinches your cheek gently. "Seungcheol is not happy about it, darling. You know the rules."
"The rules were I don't challenge anyone. You never said I couldn't go down on the person holding me hostage." You say pointedly, making Jeonghan snort out a laugh. "I mean, I don't care. I get it, and I think I know you better than anyone when I say you're not interested in Seungkwan for what he can offer you, but what you can discover about him…with him."
You slump against the wall, a pout on your lips when you hear a knock on the door. Jeonghan's eyes grow wide as Seungkwan edges the door open, worming his arm through and holding a plate out to you.
"Dinner."
"You eat alone here?" He asks, and Seungkwan's head pokes through the crack with eyes so wide, you feared they'd pop out. "Jeonghan? What are you doing here?"
"Just reconnecting with my little troublemaker." He shrugs, pinching your cheek as you frown, shoving his hand away. Seungkwan's eyes show his conflicted feelings, and he simply steps in and slides the plate on the nightstand. "Bring the plate back to the kitchen before sundown."
He spins on his heel, and leaves. The door shuts quietly behind him, and Jeonghan gives you a knowing look. You give him a sheepish smile in return, but neither of you make a move for the light dinner on the nightstand.
"You eat alone?"
"No. I think…ugh." You bring your knees to your chest, burying your face into them as you groan. "I fucked up, Jeonghan."
"Oh, good! The plan is working!" He cheers, before reaching for the plate on the nightstand. "Here, let's split this lovely dinner. I'm a long way from home, you know."
You just groan again, and Jeonghan clicks his tongue at you. "That's the whole point of this, darling. You get knocked down a few pegs, and Seungkwan gets loosened up. Granted, neither Cheollie nor I figured you'd go this route but, whatever works."
"Cheollie?" You snort, and Jeonghan shrugs. "That's my best friend, and he pays for all my fish. I can call him whatever I want."
You shake your head as Jeonghan offers you a piece of bread, and you bite into it as you lean your head back against the wall. "He hates me." You mutter around the bread, and Jeonghan laughs.
"I'd argue the opposite, my dear. I think that the two of you find each other very intriguing. It's almost like two cats sizing each other up before deciding if the other is a threat. In this case, you're a small cat with a huge ego and he's a big cat with…well, a multitude of problems. You are human enough that you know how to relax, but also annoying enough to figure out what buttons to press to rile him up enough to break."
"I don't think calling me annoying is helping your case here, Jeonghan." You smack his thigh, and he laughs gently. "I just think the two of you balance each other well. You're so painfully human, and so open about your flaws. Seungkwan has a hard time admitting aloud that he isn't perfect, because this lavish life we live…it weighs on him. Sometimes, I wonder if Cheollie did the right thing."
"What do you mean?" You ask, taking a piece of sliced peach off the plate and peeling the skin off. Jeonghan shrugs, and speaks around a chunk of fig.
"Seungkwan is very loved, don't get me wrong. However, Seungkwan is quite literally Seungcheol's biggest headache. He came about after Cheol had yet another affair with someone aside from his ex-wife. Seungkwan cannot fathom being anything like Seungcheol in regards to his adulterous behavior and incessant need for attention, so he isolates his heart."
Jeonghan turns to you, eyeing the furrow in your brow as you chew. "You bring it out of him, you know? The ability to feel more than he allows himself to. The range of emotions is much broader with you around, and we feel like it will be good for him."
"You know he said he won't kiss me?" You mumble, and Joenghan leans his head on your shoulder, closing his eyes. "I know, darling. It's addicting, the kiss of a mortal. You should know better, your pretty lips are what gets you in trouble."
You scoff, but sigh.
"How does he know? Has he…kissed other mortals?" You don't know you're pouting until you feel Jeonghan's thumb on your lip. "Plenty. I think…maybe there is something different about you to him. Maybe it's the guilt."
"Or he's in love with me." You roll your eyes, the phrase feeling foreign on your tongue. You'd never been in love before, and to be honest, you didn't care to be. Jeonghan hums next to you, before looking up. "Maybe."
There is a moment of silence before you choke out a laugh. "Yeah, right. The guy hates my guts."
"He doesn't hate you, darling. He just doesn't understand you, but that's why you're here." Jeonghan shrugs, before pressing a kiss to your temple. "Be a good girl, okay? He's trying his best, just like you are."
"I'll try my best, Jeonghan." You sigh, watching as the god stands, and stretches before he steps in front of the window. "And, Y/N?"
"Yes, Jeonghan?"
Jeonghan smiles, his maroon eyes flashing with a hint of mirth as he swings his legs over the windowsill. "Don't fall too fast."
You scoff as he disappears, and look down to pick at the last piece of fruit on the plate. Half a fig.
Sighing, you pick it up and stand, walking towards the door and opening it. You slip into the hall quietly, noting the moonlight lighting the temple nicely. Walking into the kitchen, you see Seungkwan nursing a glass of wine as he sits in front of the oven.
There's yet another dimpled focaccia with halved cherry tomatoes and coarse salt baking before you. The two of you had practically inhaled the first loaf, sneaking bites throughout the last two days. He looks up as he hears you step in, lips pursed before turning back.
You sigh inwardly, shoveling the last fig you picked at into your mouth before leaving the plate in the sink. He says nothing as you slide into the seat next to him, but offers his glass. You take it silently, keeping your gaze forward.
"You don't like skin on peaches?" He asks quietly, and you press your lips into a thin line. "No. My dad always peeled them for me."
"Dads…" He nods, and you glance at him. "Yeah. You're…Seungcheol's favorite, right?"
"Don't." The wine bottle from behind him is brought to his lips, and you stare at your fingernails. "Don't…what? Isn't he–"
"Hardly." Seungkwan mutters, and you don't press further. You know that Seungkwan doesn't resent or dislike Seungcheol, all the gods in this world seemed very close and proved it often. Seungcheol has spoken highly of Seungkwan in all the times you've ever gotten to speak to him, usually in Jeonghan's presence. Typically over a dinner before Jeonghan would send you back with Wonwoo and Cerberus.
Seungkwan sighs beside you, and you resist the urge to reach and touch him. You grip the edge of the bench, forcing yourself to stare at the bread before Seungkwan gets up, taking it out carefully with the wooden peel. He slides it onto the counter, before the fire goes out in front of you.
"It's nightfall. Off to bed." He murmurs, and you nod silently, downing the rest of the wine in the glass he gave you. He takes it, gently placing it into the sink as you stand. "Goodnight, Seungkwan."
"You're sleeping in your room tonight?" He asks, eyes expectant. You clear your throat, feeling your cheeks burn as you nod. "Yes. At least, I'll try to."
He hums, nodding. "Good luck, threadling. I'll see you in the morning."
Pushing past you, you hear him walk briskly down the hallway, his heavy door opening and shutting before you even turn around. You let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding, running your hand through your hair as you spin on your heels, quickly walking down the hallway.
"Fuck." You mutter to yourself as you breeze past his bedroom, hearing him rustle around. You were good at many things and feared almost nothing – but you held this fear near and dear to your heart. You hated being alone, and you were scared of ending up alone forever.
You're as human as they come.
You skirt into your room, quickly closing the door behind you and closing the open shutters of your window. You light the lamp on one of the nightstands, stripping quickly before ripping your duvet off and wrapping yourself in it. Sitting on the bed, you scoot up all the way until you're practically sitting on your pillows, and bring your knees to your chest.
It's time to learn to be alone.
Seungkwan can't sleep.
He's been laying in his bed for what feels like hours, tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling.
He sighs, knowing that your absence is taking a toll on him. He felt bad about everything that has happened throughout the day, but he can't bring himself to admit that to you. He can't bring himself to say sorry about speaking to you the way he did earlier, or making you eat alone, though it wasn't his intention. He just assumed you'd want to be alone, but his heart sank when he saw the teacup you'd left him, so warm and sweet and everything you were that he couldn't have.
Groaning, he kicks the covers off, grabbing his robe off the bedpost and wrapping it around himself. He slides out of bed, walking to his door and yanks it open, letting it go as he takes the sharp turn down the hall to your bedroom. He can see the glow from the lamp under the door, and he wonders if he should knock.
He decides against it, choosing to open it slowly. He sees you curled up against the wall, your eyes half closed when he clears his throat. You jump, eyes filled with panic when you finally see him. He bites back his laugh as you scowl, walking towards your bed. He kneels on it, tugging the corner of your duvet over your shoulder.
"How are you holding up here?" He asks, and you frown as you turn away from him, screwing your eyes shut. "I'm fine."
"You're sitting on your pillows, angel." He tuts, making you groan. "Go away, Seungkwan."
"And to think I was going to ask if you wanted to move to my room." He sighs, and you peel one eye open, looking him up and down. "As if you'd spare me."
"Contrary to popular belief, I was going to do so." He says pointedly, and you turn to face him. Your cheek is lined with the rough pattern on the wall, making his heart ache. He felt awful that you were forcing yourself in here, and he clicked his tongue.
"Come on. You're not faring well in here, it seems. It's only just that I spare you this one time." Rolling his eyes, he ignores your small smile. "This one time, he says. What a just and fair god."
"Shut up." He stands upright, and he hears you sigh as he turns away. "I'm sorry about earlier, Seungkwan."
He stills, hearing you clear your throat. "I said one thing and did another, that wasn't fair of me. I shouldn't have said anything about what transpired this morning–"
"You're a human, Y/N. I'd be foolish to fully trust your word, you know that, right?" He interrupts, and you're silent. He peers over his shoulder, seeing your eyes narrowed as you slip off the bed, keeping the duvet wrapped around you as you shove your way out of the bedroom.
He sighs, putting out your lamp before following suit. You're already in his bedroom by the time he reaches the door, and you're laying on the very edge of the bed. As far as you could be without being on the floor, and as close as you could be to another being so as to not be alone.
He shakes his head, closing the door behind him. Slipping his robe off, he slides into the bed. His stomach is far more at ease having you at arm's length, being able to just barely make out your frame from under your layered duvets.
"Goodnight, Seungkwan." You mutter, and he turns onto his side. "Goodnight, angel."
SIX.
You didn't sleep very well, you weren't going to lie to yourself.
It was like you were on the verge of falling asleep, but it just never happened. You could feel your body more sluggish than you'd felt the past few mornings.
However, today, you were once more graced by Seungkwan pressed to your back. The sun wasn't up, the sky gloomy as you turned in his hold. His eyes were closed, but he was so close you could count his eyelashes. You stared at him tiredly, before you heard him speak. "You're staring awfully hard."
"I can't sleep." You mutter back, and his eyes remain closed as he nods. "Mmh. Would you like to stay in the bedroom today? It smells like rain."
"You can smell rain?" You ask, and he shrugs. "Some days it's stronger than others, the smell. It's like wet Earth and whatnot."
You nod, though he can't see you. Sighing, you close your eyes again, hoping you'll fall asleep at the proximity between you two. You weren't going to lie to yourself, he brought you a comfort you couldn't quite place. Like he could judge but he won't, like he could leave, but he won't.
"Do you need anything to help you sleep? I know humans can be fussy if they don't get enough rest." He murmurs, and you peel open one eye to look at him. His eyes are still closed, as if he's also trying to will himself to sleep. You don't reply, hoping he'll use some stupid godly power to read your mind.
"Y/N, closed mouths don't get fed." He reminds you, and you groan. "Fine, fine. Can you just…hold me?"
"Hold you?" He repeats, and you shift next to him. He sighs, before carefully draping his arm over your waist, pulling you closer into him. His fingers are cool against your back, tracing circles into your skin as you nestle into the crook of his neck. "Better?"
"Mhm." You hum into his skin, before feeling his lips press to your hairline. It's quick, and so light you almost missed it. "What's that for?"
"For yesterday." He mumbles back, before settling again. You brush it off, choosing to relax in his embrace as his breathing slows. He's fallen back asleep, presumably only awoken by your movement.
You must've fallen asleep as well at some point, because a crack of thunder startles you awake. Pressing a hand to your chest, you look up to see Seungkwan staring behind you, seemingly lost in thought as his fingers continue to trace shapes into your back. Your leg is now draped over his hip, and he's holding himself up on his elbow.
"Seungkwan?"
His eyes dart down to you, before a look of concern takes over. "Hm? Are you okay?"
"Yeah." You nod, and he gives you a curt nod back, before returning to his spacing out. You don't have it in you to tell him you're overheating, so you just settle back in. "Are you okay? What are you looking at?"
"Nothing. I'm just waiting for you." He shrugs, and you tilt your head at him. "For what?"
"You ask a lot of questions, threadling."
"You avoid them a lot."
He raises his brow at your quip, before splaying his fingers across your hip, giving it a soft squeeze. "I didn't want to disturb your rest. If I get up, you'll wake up. Then everything after is a domino effect."
You stare up at him, your eyes tracing his features. Round eyes, soft lips. Lips that let painful things slip, only to be soothed by other things tumbling out. Eyes that held truths, that held fire and held want. A wanton yearning to be loved.
"You're staring, angel."
"You're pretty." You shrug, and he rolls his eyes, but you don't miss the way his ears tinge pink as he sighs. "Well, you're up. Let's get a move on, the day is full of opportunity."
He looks down at you, eyes narrowing as they fall to your shoulder. You hadn't noticed the bruise that bloomed from your fall yesterday, and he moves your hair out of the way gently. His fingers grazed the welted spot, "What happened here?"
"Oh, I fell off the bed when Jeonghan appeared yesterday." You look down at it, his brows furrowed. "Does it hurt?"
"I'm sure it will if you press on it." You roll your eyes, and he frowns. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why would I? You were mean to me yesterday." You scoff, making him return the noise of disdain. "You started it!"
"Let's not play the blame game. Clearly one of us should be the one who leads here and you're not doing a very good job of it." Shaking your head, you hear him groan above you.
"Fine. It wasn't my intention to treat you poorly yesterday, and I will try my best to not have it happen again. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
You frown at him, your lip jutted out just slightly. "You can't just say sorry?"
Your eyes lock with his for a second, scanning each other. He wants to, you can tell, he wants to apologize. He wants to make it up to you, but pride is a far stronger power than any remorse in the air. His hand gently tucks a stray curl behind your ear, fingers lingering on your cheek.
"Don't pout, it's not a good look on you." He presses his lips to your forehead, before pulling away and throwing the duvet off the both of you. You huff, watching as he slips out of bed and grabs his robe from the bedpost. He pulls it on swiftly, and you roll onto your back stretching your arms over your head before pushing the duvet further off your body. You're sure it's well past noon at this point.
You hear Seungkwan click his tongue, and you look up to see him standing at the window, leaning on the window sill. He's scanning the vast gardens, likely trying to plan for yet another day of rain. You slide out of bed, crossing your arms over your bare chest as you walk over to look with him.
"Wonder what's got Seungcheol in a mood." You murmur, seeing the flooded pond towards the edge of the garden. A frog hops into the flowers, and Seungkwan shrugs. "Sometimes he just likes to make it rain. Anything to get his name in someone's mouth."
You snort, and he smiles inwardly.
"If the rain lets up this week, we can go to the market. I need to find out if my leathersmith can make shoes for you, and I don't think Chan brought the yarn for you, did he?" He peers up at you, and you sigh, shaking your head. "I don't mind waiting, though. I can find something else to do."
"Like washing the windows that you forgot about yesterday?" He says pointedly, and you scoff out a laugh. "Way to be subtle."
He smiles widely, reaching to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer. You oblige, allowing him to move you in front of him. "It's pretty, though, isn't it? The rain?"
"It's dreary sometimes. I think of it more as a necessary evil." You nod, feeling his chin rest gently on your shoulder. "It brings things to life but it also drowns out any happiness I have for the day. The lack of sunshine makes me depressed."
"I heard that, yeah. Something about mortals not faring well during the colder months, because there's no sun." He nods, and you feel his hands wrap around your waist, clasping together over your navel. "I assume it's just that same darkness, right? It's like, desperation."
"It just makes me sad. There's a lack of life, in my opinion." You twist to look at him, seeing him close his eyes. "I agree, there's something missing when the days get shorter. I lose a lot of motivation."
Your eyes widen at his admission, but you don't get a chance to expand on it before feeling his lips plant a soft kiss on your shoulder. "You should get dressed, we haven't eaten anything yet."
He makes no move to let you go, instead choosing to trail his lips along your skin before reaching the thin gold chain he'd given you a few days earlier. "Seungkwan…"
"Mmh?" He tugs at it with his teeth, before nipping at your neck softly. You jolt in his hold, your skin littering with goosebumps at the contact of his teeth. Shivering, you twist further in his hold, feeling his hands move up from where they were clasped. The pads of his fingers ghost over the bottom of your breasts, and you feel your entire face heat as he speaks into your skin.
"Face forward."
You huff, but move to look back out the window. Your eyes try to focus on the garden when you feel his thumbs graze your nipples, before his large hands begin palming gently. The cool metal of his jewelry against your hardened nubs makes you shiver, and you squeeze your eyes shut, taking a shaky breath.
"Sensitive here?" He breathes against your skin, pinching your nipples gently as you let out a low, choked whine. His teeth tug at your earlobe, making you jolt before you hear him speak again. "Eyes open, angel."
"You're horrible." You mutter, feeling his lips curve against the shell of your ear. "I can stop."
"No! Don't, please." Your head hangs a bit, burning in humiliation as a soft chuckle sounds behind you. It seems you don't know how to shut your mouth, because the words tumble out before you can stop them.
"Please touch me."
"How can I deny you when you're so polite?" He's mocking you, and you feel the warmth of his right hand leave your chest, ghosting down your torso. "Where, angel? Here?" His hand rests on your stomach, making you shake your head frantically, taking his wrist in your hand and guiding him lower.
"Here." You feel almost embarrassed as you feel him rest his forehead against your shoulder, before his fingers slowly glide over your center, his middle landing a teasing tap to your clit. You jerk slightly, making him laugh behind you before he moves further, dragging his fingertips through your wet folds with ease. You feel frustration grow slightly in your belly as he teases you, before he removes his hand completely.
You scoff, about to complain when you see him hold his hand up to the light. His fingers are slick with your arousal, strings of it connecting his knuckles as he separates them.
"Would you look at that?" His tone is one full of mischief, before he brings his hand closer to your face. "Open."
His forefinger taps your lip, and you instinctively stick your tongue out, sliding it between his fingers without a word. Your eyes flutter closed as you taste yourself on his skin, the mix something invigorating, your need to be touched by him only fueled by the heat of his eyes on your face.
"Dirty little thing, aren't you?" He murmurs as you run your tongue over one of his rings, before you kiss the metal. "I'll be whatever you want me to be."
He doesn't respond, instead choosing to push you slightly against the windowsill, trailing his lips down your back. You lean forward, anticipation brewing in your belly when you feel him kneel behind you, before feeling his teeth sink lightly into your ass. You can't hold your groan in, or hide the way your hips push back. He lets go of the bitten flesh, opting to lick at the marks with a sigh. "So pretty when you're needy."
His lips press to your skin in peppered kisses, before he gently spreads your legs a bit more. You oblige, leaning on your forearms across the windowsill and holding the outside edge. His hands circle your upper thighs, and he squeezes them gently as he presses a kiss to your clit.
You sigh, trying not to push against him as his tongue darts out, slowly dragging through your folds. He gathers your arousal messily, pulling soft whines from your throat when he finally wraps his pouty lips around your clit, sucking lightly. Your head hangs low as sounds slip from your mouth, your fingertips turning white from how hard you're gripping the windowsill when he begins to shallowly thrust his tongue into your hole, his hand moving from your thigh to thumb at your clit.
A whimper of profanities jumble from your lips, grinding your hips against his face and hand as your thighs begin to tremble. Your knees buck a bit, Seungkwan's arms reflexively moving to wrap around your waist as he buries his tongue deeper into your cunt. He groans into you, arms tightening around you as your hips continue to push back onto him. He grunts, pushing you away from his tongue entirely.
"You know, you're not very nice." He begins, making you groan. "I'm–"
You're cut off by the wet sound of his fingers teasing your entrance carefully. You feel his teeth sink into the flesh of your ass again, your eyes fluttering shut as he slowly slides his fingers inside you, a low groan from your throat as he speaks.
"You're what? A brat? A pain in my ass? Sorry, for both of those things, maybe?"
You huff at his words, "I'm sorry."
He hums into your skin, his eyes trained on the way your gummy walls swallow his fingers with ease, curling them as you squirm. "Sorry for what?"
His fingers brush the spongy spot, making you jolt with a high-pitched moan. "Sorry for what, angel?" He coos, carefully keeping his slow pace as he stands, lips pressed to the skin of your neck and shoulders.
"E-Everything." You sigh, your forehead pressed against your forearm, clenching around his fingers as he bullies them into you. "Everything, she says. What's this everything, hm?"
He kisses your shoulder gently, peering over your shoulder to see your eyes screwed shut. Smiling to himself, he stills his movements, hearing you groan and peel your eyes open. "What are you sorry for?"
You breathe out shakily, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as he slowly starts again. "I-I'm sorry for being a brat."
"Oh, are you?" He nods, watching your hips push against his hand with a smirk. "Are you sorry for being a pain in my ass, too?"
"No." You blurt, shaking your head as he snorts. "At least you're honest."
"I keep you on your toes, you can't punish me f-for that." Your voice is no higher than a whisper as he moves his free hand to your face, carefully swiping away the stray hair sticking to your skin. "For the record, I don't hate you."
You shake your head, eyes clouded with lust as you peer at him. "You do, though."
He doesn't reply, opting to move his hand, now rubbing soft circles into your clit. Your legs tremble slightly at the added stimulation, whines from your throat as he begins to speak. "I don't. How could I?"
He knows you'll probably forget this later, so why hold back? He presses his lips to your neck, peppering kisses there as he feels your pussy start to clamp around his fingers.
"How could I, Y/N? I think about you all the time, you know? Fuck, you're so pretty." His teeth nip at the skin, and he feels you struggle to hold yourself up as your orgasm approaches. "Could never hate you, gorgeous. So good for me, right? Just for me."
You shudder as the words hit your ears, and Seungkwan takes this as an incentive to keep going. "Wouldn't be the end of the world, would it? My pretty angel, all mine? Hm?"
Your bitten lips part in a silent sob as you nod, your orgasm coating his fingers as your head hangs low. Seungkwan's eyes close as he presses his lips to your warm skin, unintelligible whispers slipping as he carefully withdraws his hand from between your legs. You remain silent as he slips away, before feeling a warm towel between your thighs.
"Take a bath. I'll make breakfast…or lunch, I guess now." He murmurs, tossing the towel aside and gently pulling your bruised elbows from the windowsill. You nod silently as he plants a soft kiss to your temple, before quietly guiding you to the bathroom. You feel your cheeks flush as his hand brushes your hip, pulling you close when you stumble.
"Sorry." You mutter, but he only shakes his head as he pushes the bathroom door open, the sun now shining through the open window as he reaches for the faucet. He turns it on, running his fingers under the water until he deems it warm enough to help you climb into the tub.
"Any particular scent?" He asks as you settle into the cold tub, and you shake your head silently. No words are exchanged as he picks out his scent, the basil leaf in the jar mocking you as he slides it onto the rim of the tub. "Call me if you need anything, alright?"
Nodding, you press your lips into a thin line as he carefully swipes your hair out of your eyes. His own are conflicted, but he nods curtly and takes his leave.
You sigh shakily, your fingers reaching for your tense thighs as you think about his words. He'd come across the past few days as someone who didn't feel the need to prove anything to you – you were a human, someone who was virtually just a speck of dust in his universe.
Your eyes burn lightly, the tears of shame slipping down your cheeks as you groan inwardly. You certainly hadn't expected him to show you any of his feelings that way, but you weren't mad at all. You just felt…a pit of despair settle into your stomach.
Feeling like Seungkwan was out of your reach…that gap should be bridged now, right? He showed you his desire, he spoke about it.
So why does he feel so much further away now?
SEVEN.
The next week and a half were the most mind-boggling thing you think you've ever experienced.
The two of you did not speak of the prior events – opting to both drown them out and keep repeating the same mistakes by enticing each other. If he wasn't waking you up with his tongue circling your clit, he was grinding his clothed cock against you in the kitchen and telling you how badly you got on his nerves. If you chose to run your mouth, he'd put it to better use – whether that meant he shoved a piece of bread into it or his cock was up for whatever the stars aligned with that day.
The past two days had been touch-free; the god was bent over his desk as you got ready to leave the temple. He'd promised you a visit to the market for new shoes as well as yarn for your loom, but he was everything but ready. He didn't move as he heard you standing in the doorway of his bedroom, your wine red skirt low on your hips as you leaned on the frame.
"Seungkwan?"
"Mmh?" He hummed, not looking up as he flipped a pen through his fingers. He heard you sigh, walking up to his desk and plucking it from his fingers. "You said we'd leave by noon. It's past that."
"I did say that." He nods, reaching for his pen as you hold it out of reach. "Seungkwan."
He sighs, before finally looking up at you. His eyes widen slightly, and you look at him expectantly as he stares in silence. "Are you having a stroke?"
"What?" He blinks, before shaking his head. You snort, before setting the pen on the desk. "Are you having a stroke? You've been odd all day."
Has he? He thinks back – bath, breakfast, a bit of time in the garden with you while he tried to teach you how to prune the marigolds…emphasis on tried.
"No. I'm fine. You look…nice. Ready?" He clears his throat, watching as you carefully slip your hair over your shoulder. You look exactly the same as you have since you arrived, but…something feels different. You feel different.
Could explain the absolute heat in his chest when he woke up to your face these past few days. And why he couldn't bear to look at you any longer than a simple conversation, he notes, as his eyes divert back to the philosophy book on his desk.
"Well…come on? I'm hungry and the walk is long." You smile, before turning on your heel. Seungkwan takes a deep breath, before standing and trailing after you. Neither of you stop to gather any bites for the road, but he can't unglue his eyes from the soft swing of your hips.
Get it together. He shakes it off, opting to look away as you trek down the steps of the temple. "We can get new shoes for you today, I know I said we'd touch base on that."
"We did!" You stretch in the afternoon sun, the light hitting your supple skin perfectly. Skin he longs to run his fingers down, sink his teeth into, kiss raw–
"Do you think they'll have yarn like my father's?" You ask, waiting for him to catch up to you. You link your arms once he does, ignoring the way he stiffens slightly as you slip your fingers in his. "I really liked the dyed yarns we'd get from Olympus. Lydia was always very barren for wool and such."
He listens to you talk about your father for a while, as he subconsciously guides the two of you through the two-hour walk to the market. Why hasn't he gotten a horse? Why is he making you walk two hours, when you could be rambling about your memories upon a noble steed?
He makes it a mental note as the twinkling lights of the market come into view. You stop talking and gasp lightly, your fingers squeezing his as you look over the treetops to the gaggle of tents and life. You smile inwardly, excitedly pulling him closer as you walk quickly. His cheeks burn as you finally reach the entrance of the market, a few bystanders looking at you as your eyes widen.
"Wow. It's beautiful here." You murmur, your eyes scanning the glittering of gold jewelry at the green tent he'd bought your necklace at. He lets you pull him carefully through the sweaty bodies, your eyes wide as you take in all the colors and glitters and the way you instinctively float over to a pair of slender shoulders hunched over a tent of yarns and wool.
The vendor looked up quickly, her smile bright as she saw you scour everything excitedly. You pulled your fingers out of Seungkwan's hand, leaving the god to stand a distance behind you as you ran the pads of your fingers across all the wool she had displayed. There were beautifully dyed yarns – from deep, earthy greens to royal purples, you carefully collected a few as the vendor showed you sample after sample.
"What do you think of this one?" Your voice brought Seungkwan back to Earth, his eyes landing on a soft, ocean blue yarn dyed lightly with indigo. You bounced the material in your palms, rattling off ideas of what you could weave with it when Seungkwan interrupts you.
"Get whatever you want, threadling. I've got it." Seungkwan pats his pouch, thankful he remembered to snag it off the desk before the two of you left the temple. In the glowing twinkle lights of the market, Seungkwan can almost make out a blush on your cheeks as you quickly whip around to look back at the vendor with a shy smile.
It wasn't long before you held a bag full of yarn, Seungkwan silently digging into his pouch for gold coins to give to the vendor. He took the bag gingerly, before you absently looped your arm with his as you bid the vendor a good evening. Your fingertips were cool against his, but he welcomed it as he squeezed them gently.
Seungkwan couldn't help but admire you under the twinkling lights and low sun. Your skin glowed slightly, the bruise on your shoulder from Jeonghan's visit now yellow with time. Your white top wrapped tightly across your chest, worn sandals guiding you through the people who began to gather around the jewelry tents.
His chest feels tight at the idea of falling in love with you under this romanticized perspective.
"Did you ever come here with your father?" Seungkwan asks softly, and you frown slightly, shaking your head. "My father was much too old to make the journey here. Our markets were further south, but it was mostly fish and fruit. I often went alone to gather our weekly rations. My mother…she was good friends with Taeyeon. I'm sure you know her, right? The goddess of harvest?"
Seungkwan nods, "I do. She ventures into these parts every so often."
Smiling, you slow down and lean your head on his shoulder as you walk through the dusty market. Your gaze falls upon tasty treats and wide-eyed children holding sugared apples, and you find yourself leading Seungkwan over. "Are you hungry?"
"I'm alright. Would you like something?" Seungkwan shifts in your hold, watching the vendor carefully peel an orange off its pith. You nod, pointing at the scrawled menu. "Have you ever had candied orange peel?"
"Have you?" He snorts, looking at the jarred delicacy. He watched as your hands ghosted over a custard sitting on a bed of ice, before the vendor stood quickly, orange in hand as she pushed her partner away from the boiling sugar above the fire. "No, but I've also never really had desserts. My father was very strict about sweet things at night."
Seungkwan nods as he watches the vendor shakily shove the slices onto a wooden skewer, before carefully coating them in the hot sugar. His fingers squeeze yours as she dips them into a bucket of ice water, the sizzle of the sugar making the water pop over the edge. She holds it up and out to you, a pointed look in her eyes.
"Take it." Seungkwan encourages, and you shyly reach out for it. She gives you a napkin, before mumbling to wait a bit to eat it. Seungkwan offers her money, but she shakes her head. "I haven't seen a pair of lovers in a while, just enjoy it."
Seungkwan hates the way his entire body heats at the idea of being your lover, but you're not faring much better – your smile is shy as you nod, letting your hair fall into your eyes as you look away. The tips of your ears are flushed as you ask her for a jar of the candied peels, which she simply shoves into your hand. "On the house. Or on the tent, I guess."
You pull Seungkwan away with yet another thank you from your lips, when Seungkwan's eyes catch the leathersmith beginning to set up shop. "Wait, you need new shoes. Let's go this way."
You oblige, allowing the god to tug you carefully. The leathersmith was an older man who had his son along as an apprentice, aiming to have the younger man take over the shop once he passed on. Seungkwan had quite the hearty relationship with the older gentleman, but often found a small taste of disdain in his mouth after speaking to his son. He was young and a bit snobby, ungrateful – a few of the traits Seungkwan deemed unattractive.
"Oh, Seungkwan! I haven't seen you in quite a while. How are you? And who is this beautiful young woman? I'm Mr. Kim." The leathersmith took his hat off quickly, offering his hand for you to shake. You did so cheerily, as the older man smiled at you.
"I'm Y/N. I'm a…pupil of Seungkwan's." You say with a bit of hesitance, but Seungkwan's fingers squeeze yours in confirmation. You were, after all…just a pupil. Someone he's not supposed to have feelings for, he reminds himself.
Mr. Kim quickly gestures to his son, who is setting up the machinery. His hands are coated in oil from it, and Seungkwan feels his stomach turn at the idea of his fingers smearing it over your skin when they measure you. He'll have to wash your feet for you when you arrive home–
No? He won't?
"This is my son, you remember him, right? Jisung, say hello."
The son glances up with a look of discernment, before Seungkwan notices his eyes land on you. You've begun to nibble onto the candied orange slices, licking your lips of bits of sugar. Seungwan instinctively pulls you closer, before the leathersmith looks at the god as he speaks. "Yes, I do. How're you, Jisung? Taking well after your father, I assume?"
The younger man barely acknowledges him, his eyes still on you as you glance around all the leather scraps. There are a few different patterns on the soles of pre-cut shoes, and Seungkwan feels you pull away to run your fingers through the intricate designs. Stars, small waves, dainty paisley. There is a pair with flowers that stop at the arch of the shoe, and you hold it up.
"These?" Your eyes are a little brighter as you hold the candied oranges in your teeth, tracing the pattern with your bruised fingertips. Seungkwan smiles, starting to speak when Jisung cuts him off. "You have to get fitted and come back, we can't just give you pre-made soles."
Seungkwan feels his lips tug down as Jisung takes the sole from you, and you nod carefully. "You could be nicer about it, you know. I'm sure your father wouldn't appreciate you treating his prospective clients with this attitude."
Mr. Kim's eyes widen as his son scoffs, a quick flush overtaking his cheeks and ears as Jisung tosses the pre-made soles back into the bucket. He clears his throat as you turn away from Jisung with a frown full of disdain, before speaking up. "I assume you are here for shoes, right? What soles did you want?"
You shake your head and shrug. "Whatever you can make for me, I'll take it. I would hate to cause you any trouble, Mr. Kim."
It's clearly a jab at his son, but if he notices, he says nothing. The older gentleman rounds the chair he's had set up and fishes through the bucket for the soles you'd had in your hand. "These, right? They're marigolds." He taps the sole with his knuckle, before patting the chair with his hand.
"Sit, I'll fit them for you. They're pre-made for a reason, emergencies. Your straps are about to fall apart, dear." He grimaces at your sandals, and you feel a soft blush coat your cheeks. "Well, they've been through a lot with me."
Seungkwan watches as you carefully take Mr. Kim's hand to sit atop the lifted chair, and as he carefully takes your sandals off. Your feet are slightly swollen from the walk to the market, and he nearly misses the way Jisung takes Mr. Kim's spot in front of you. He spreads his thighs over the edge of the stool, his hand grabbing your ankle out of the stirrup and examining your foot. He grimaces as he runs his fingers over the carmine-covered toenails, carefully tugging on your toes to make your joints pop.
It all felt too intimate for Seungkwan's taste, but he tongues his cheek as Mr. Kim starts digging through his bucket of leather straps.
"Do you want braided straps? I have a few of those, I think they'd suit you." Mr. Kim speaks as Jisung runs a wet sponge down the arch of your foot, making Seungkwan grimace inwardly. Your eyes flutter closed at the cool water dripping along your skin, Jisung's hands carefully massaging the sore arch. You don't respond, so Seungkwan nods in Mr. Kim's direction with a forced smile.
"Feel good?" Jisung's voice breaks through the air, and Seungkwan doesn't like the way his stomach tightens as your nose scrunches, his thumb digging into the heel of your foot. "Feels nice, yeah. We walked the entire way here."
"Did you, now?" Jisung glances over his shoulder, and it's as if the shared horse for the father-son duo picks up on his commentary, whinnying behind the tent. Seungkwan frowns, "She asked to."
"So you just do whatever she wants?" Jisung asks lowly, and Mr. Kim holds up a matching pair of fishtailed straps. "Aha!"
Jisung gives Seungkwan a sour look as he carefully wipes your foot of excess water and dirt, leaving the god to cross his arms over his chest while holding your bag of yarn. You're trying to focus on the candied oranges in your hand, carefully biting at the sweet flesh when Jisung swipes the wet sponge across your other foot, holding it up to his face as he examines your toes. "Walk barefoot a lot?"
"Well–"
"Pretty girls like you shouldn't be doing that." He tugs at your toes, popping the joints in this foot as well before squeezing gently. "What kind of a god are you, letting her walk around in old shoes? Don't you care?"
Your eyes are wide as he speaks directly to Seungkwan, who only scowls. "Isn't it inappropriate to compliment your clients? Just do what you're here to do, I can take care of her on my own."
"Seems like you can't, if she's walking here and wearing old shoes." Jisung barks back, and you shift uncomfortably. Seungkwan can tell you're starting to pick up on his disdain for the younger man, who only digs his fingers into the flesh of your calf. Seungkwan doesn't respond, opting to move over to Mr. Kim, who is hunched over his workbench. He's carefully piercing the leather with a thick needle, his fingers covered in makeshift thimbles as he holds the leather in shaky hands. Seungkwan doesn't let your conversation with Jisung leave his mind as he eavesdrops, Jisung asking you where you're from and if you're single. You just answer with a disinterested tone, something that makes Seungkwan smile inwardly as Mr. Kim holds the shoe up.
"Think they'll fit?" He asks, needle tucked between his lips as Seungkwan examines it, nodding carefully. "If they're a little big it's fine too, she's on her feet a lot."
No you weren't. You hadn't done anything in the temple but lay in his bed with him and prune flowers. He stopped making you step into the kitchen, last week allowing you to simply exist within the temple and the gardens. You enjoyed dipping your feet into the pond, and grabbing the frogs in your palms as they croaked quietly.
There hadn't been a single drop of rain since he had you against the windowsill in his bedroom. Almost as though Seungcheol was listening, and eerily enough, maybe even watching.
Seungkwan took the time to tend the garden when he wasn't riling you up in whatever form he could. He hated that he was starting to enjoy the way you poked at him, wanting to elicit a reaction out of him, yearning for the way his hands would grip you firmly if he was pushing you against any surface he could manage.
Yet, your lips still have yet to graze in the way you beg for constantly. He'll kiss you anywhere you ask, anywhere you want – but your lips remain untouched, bitten by your own teeth, glossed by your own spit and calling his name out wantonly.
How he yearns to shut you up that way sometimes.
"How is it, having a new pupil? You haven't had one in a while." Mr. Kim asks as Seungkwan's eyes trailed the way Jisung's hands go up a little too high on your knee. You frown a bit, your lips pursed as you push it down. He apologizes swiftly, a twitch in his lip as you cross your legs at the ankle. You both continue the odd conversation, with Jisung questioning your attire. You answer that Seungkwan made it for you, and isn't it so pretty?
Jisung glances over his shoulder before scoffing out a yeah.
"It's fine. She's very smart and quick witted, and keeps me on my toes." Seungkwan nods, watching you and Jisung out of the corner of his eye. Jisung is now massaging your feet with a salve, likely one from the apothecary two tents down. It smells of eucalyptus, a scent Seungkwan noticed you avoided in the shampoo shelf – the citrus basil disappearing much faster. Your nose scrunched once more as he wrapped your feet in warm towels from a basket, before your eyes met Seungkwan's.
You blink at him, tilting your head towards Jisung before making a face of annoyance. He huffs out a small laugh, earning a smile from you as you return your attention to the younger man in front of you. You ask Jisung if he always does this for his customers, and he snorts in response as he tucks the towel corner under your ankle with a resounding no.
"She's very pretty, Seungkwan." Mr. Kim pipes up from his workbench, and Seungkwan's eyes dart to the older man. He's giving the god a pointed look, watching as Seungkwan shifts silently before letting out a sigh. "I'm not ready, Mr. Kim."
"We never are, when the right one comes along." He murmurs, and he looks up to ensure you can't hear him before he proceeds. "What's stopping you? The fact that she's a human?"
"Somewhat." He shrugs, opting to leave out the extensive story of your past – how he sent you to the Underworld within hours of meeting you, how you made him feel vulnerable in a way he hated. How you made him feel like putty with your hands, your mouth, your words of praise and reassurance as you trailed your lips anywhere he'd let you.
He remembers telling you how greedy you were as he nipped at your neck three nights ago, your incessant whining for a kiss on the lips only making him slow the rut of his hips against your clothed core. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, mouthing at his jaw with whimpers from your throat as he palmed at your body beneath him. "So, so greedy. Can never just take what I give you, hm? Always want more."
"What else?" Mr. Kim asks, and Seungkwan rubs his neck lightly, a worried smile on his lips as he admits defeat. "I just know that it won't work. She's a mortal, it won't be good for either of us. One day, she'll be gone and I'll still be left here."
"Isn't the purpose of life to find something that fulfills you?" Mr. Kim objects, raising his brows at the god before him. "If she makes you feel happy, and you feel fulfilled making her feel loved, cherished, whatever the case may be – shouldn't that be enough for you to take it and run like the wind? Love is something so fickle, something so hard to find yet so easy to ruin. Don't let your doubts ruin what you and Miss Y/N have. You yearn for her, Seungkwan."
"I do not." He scoffs, glancing at you as Jisung removes the now cool towels, your eyes closed as he wipes away the salve that went unabsorbed. Mr. Kim only smiles in response as he hands Seungkwan the shoes, the leather warm against his fingertips. "Just think about it, Seungkwan. It can't do any harm."
Except it can, he thinks.
Seungkwan is selfish. He'd always been that way – wanting only the best for himself, opting to choose the better routes, the better classes, the better books. Carefully selecting anyone and everyone he allowed into his hermit-like life, his secretive ways.
He only wanted the best, and he fears that if he doesn't figure himself out soon, you'll be the only best he sees slip through his fingers. He knows that you're good – he knows that your heart is so painfully fragile, wrapped in layers of hurt from losing your father and missing out on the last years of his life. He knows that you're trying so hard to keep up the same facade that he is – that you're stronger than you let on, that you're braver, that you're better.
He's only a god because Seungcheol said so, he's no different than you are.
He figured that a few nights ago, watching you sleep against his chest. Your cheek was squished against his shoulder, your lips glistening with a bit of drool. He wanted to kiss you so deeply then, his fingers carefully carding through your tangled hair and tugging at the necklace he'd given you. You'd stirred slightly, barely opening your eyes to peer up at him. He smiled silently, making you grunt softly before snuggling back into his skin.
It's odd, he realizes. How easily just a taste of you, just one moment of his walls being down, led from angry, bitter words to playful banter and dirty phrases whispered into sweaty skin. How in just a few days, you carefully removed layers from his guarded heart, desperately wanting to earn a spot in it. And…he just let you. He just let you call him pretty, he just let you kiss his worries away. He let you toe the line of the boundaries he'd set in place, your lips just barely hovering over his when he'd let you take the lead, your skirt bunched around your hips as you both relished in the wet sound of your cunt dragging against his bare thighs.
He just let you prove to him, over the course of a few nights, that you desired him…but deeper than anyone ever had. You cared nothing about his presence as a god, in fact, you challenged it – you poked and prodded, you pissed him off with your carefully chosen words and you mended him back together just as quickly. You jerked his emotions around, riling him up by touching him inappropriately for a pupil, but he gave in so fast. He loved it, he loved how you felt against him, he loved you.
And it pains him inside.
"Let me see the shoes." Jisung breaks Seungkwan out of his thoughts, and he reluctantly hands them over to the younger man. Seungkwan fishes in his pouch for money, placing fifteen gold coins in Mr. Kim's change cup. Ten more than the leathersmith often charged, but Seungkwan paid him no mind as he watched Jisung carefully slide the sandals over your feet.
Too. Intimate.
He carefully wrapped the straps around your ankle, the pads of his fingers lingering before Seungkwan cleared his throat loudly. Your eyes dart to the god, who has a frown on his lips as he offers his hand for you to step off the chair. The sun was slightly lower now, meaning it would be time to start heading home soon. You take Seungkwan's hand gingerly, carefully stepping down as your other hand presses against his chest for extra support.
"How d'you feel, Miss?" Mr. Kim asks as you bounce on your toes, and you seem content as you give him a warm smile and a thumbs up. You seem happy with them, but Seungkwan doesn't miss the way your eyes trail to the worn sandals you'd previously donned. They held history, they'd taken you wherever you'd been and seen everything you had. Seungkwan understands as he gathers them in his hand carefully, holding them out to Mr. Kim.
"Can you refresh these? Is that possible?"
Your eyes grow wide before they're squished by the fat of your cheeks as you smile, now wrapping your arms around Seungkwan's as Mr. Kim nods eagerly. "Return within a fortnight, I'll have them as good as new."
Seungkwan nods, before pouring a few more coins into the change cup and bidding his goodbye. Mr. Kim gives him yet another pointed look, before looking at you. His eyes speak volumes – volumes of kiss her, of hold her, of love her.
Seungkwan nods curtly, before spinning on his heel and pulling you away.
"It'll be chilly soon. Would you like to get a blanket for the walk back?" He asks quietly, and you nod eagerly. "Maybe also, something else to eat? The candied orange was good but…I'm not full yet."
Seungkwan glances over at you, seeing a bit of sugar crystals gathered at the corners of your lips. He smiles to himself, wiping his thumb against the skin carefully. You look at him as he licks the sugar off the pad of his finger, an amused look in your eyes as you shake your head. "If you wanted some of it, you could've said so."
Seungkwan only smiles to himself, holding you close as he pulls you behind a tent. Your eyes scan his face as he carefully moves your hair away from your face. "I'm sure you still have some left, right?"
"I finished it. See?" You hold up the empty skewer, your eyes innocently scouring him as he feels his chest warm. He takes it out of your hand, tossing it into a tent's garbage bin. "But you can give me a taste anyhow, can't you?"
Your eyes cast confusion until his lips ghost over yours. "Didn't like how he was touching you." He murmurs, just barely touching your skin. "M'sorry." You mumble back, nuzzling your nose against his.
"Are you?" He asks, pulling away slightly. Your cheeks are ruddy with embarrassment under his hands, his thumbs carefully pinching the fat. Your hands rest on his chest as he carefully takes your jaw in his large hand, the cool metal of his rings against your warm skin making you jolt.
"Didn't like it. Only want you to touch me like that." You admit softly, your hands bunching the fabric of his chiton under them. He smiles, "Only me?"
"Only you." You nod, and he hums in response. His thumb moves to pull at your plump lower lip, and he sighs as he moves back. "Well, we should start heading back. We can make it back before sundown, and it won't be as chilly."
You look disappointed as he pulls back, your hands still holding onto his chiton as he does so. Your lip is jutted out into a pout, "Come on, Seungkwan."
He bites back a laugh, opting to act dumb as he turns back to you. "Come on, what, Y/N?"
"Kiss me." You frown, tugging his shirt gently until he's lowered enough to touch your nose to his. He lets you pull at him, his hands snaking around your waist. "Hm? Not sure you've earned that, angel."
"You're so mean." You pout, your lower lip brushing his. He nips at it quickly, tugging it between his teeth as your eyes shutter closed. "Mean? You think so?"
He doesn't let you reply, pressing his lips against yours gently. He feels you sigh into his mouth, your hands moving up to his neck, arms gingerly wrapping around his broad shoulders. His hands hold your hips, squeezing them softly as he pulls you closer to him. His tongue gently eases into your mouth, tasting the sweet tang of the orange against your teeth. Your fingers curl into the nape of his neck, licking into his mouth with precision, trying to hide your desperation as you claw at him. He pulls away carefully, his tongue swiping across his lips as your eyes open.
"Why'd you stop?" You whine, only prompting him to press one, two, three chaste kisses to your open mouth. "Because we're in public, and if you want more, we have to get home, angel."
"You'll give me more?"
"I'll give you whatever you want." He nods, his forehead touching yours. "Promise?"
Your voice is small, but he smiles, pulling you into his chest. "I promise, angel."
The trip home was full of soft touches and his fingers pinching any skin he could manage. He pressed his lips against yours more than twice on the way there, the thick blanket he'd bought you draped carefully over your shoulders as he held your bag of yarn and candied orange peels. Your hand held a small bag of roasted chickpeas, the only other snack you bothered to pick out after Seungkwan kissed you. You suddenly weren't hungry for food, only the white-hot feeling of his lips against yours. You didn't talk as you walked home tiredly, only looked at the sky and at the straps of your new sandals.
"Let me run you a bath, angel." He offers as the temple comes into view, and you look up hesitantly. "Join me for it."
"Hmm. Maybe." He shrugs, his hand finding its way to the nape of your neck and carefully wrapping around it. It's comforting, the weight of his warmth against your skin as he pulls you closer to him. You allow it, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you reach the steps of the temple.
The wind-down is easy. It's simple, he strips you of your clothing in his bedroom as he kisses you gently, his lips sweet against yours. Soft hums of approval as he felt your hands touch him as much as he'd allow, before guiding you down to the bathroom. He lets you tug off his chiton, his pants following as he holds you flush to him as he runs his fingers under the running water.
And, he promptly joined you in the tub. Your back was nestled closely against his chest, his fingers wrapped around your hand and lips peppering kisses to your knuckles. Your hair had long been cleaned, his shampoo wafting off you as the warm suds surrounded your naked bodies. This…you'd read about this. Lovers, so close together. Lovers, holding each other dear, cherishing each other, worshiping each other.
Seungkwan's lips against your shoulders tear you from your thoughts, making you twist your head to peer at him. You wonder what's changed between the two of you. You know Seungkwan has kissed other mortals, done things he's done with you with other mortals. Why are you any different? Why is the taste of you any different, anything more than what he's had before?
And most of all, why does it weigh on you? Who cares about the other girls, as long as you get the guy?
You huff inwardly, toying with the suds at the edge of the tub.
"Closed mouths don't get fed, Y/N." His voice rings in your ears, the low rumble startling you slightly. He gives you a pointed look, his eyes sharp as he scans your features. "Sorry. Just thinking."
"About?" He questions, his arms moving to wrap around your waist beneath the water. You shake your head lightly, leaning against his clavicle with a sigh. "Just everything and nothing, all at once."
He doesn't press the issue. If he senses something is wrong, he says nothing. He instead runs his hands up your torso, pads of his fingers tickling your skin. "I really enjoyed spending time with you, today." He admits softly. You feel your cheeks heat as you look back at him again.
"Really?"
"Really. I know we were late, we can go back another time and go as early as you'd like." He nods, and you smile widely as you nod in excitement. He smiles, his thumb moving to stroke your cheeks gently. "Let me take you to bed, yeah? It's late, we have a lot to do tomorrow."
"You always say that, then you leave me wrapped in the duvet all morning and hand-feed me breakfast." You roll your eyes, making Seungkwan snort. "I can make life a lot harder, if you'd like."
"No, don't do that." You feign a pout as you twist in his hold, opting to straddle his lap under the warm water. He looks up at you, his hands resting on your upper thighs. "Tread lightly, angel."
"I'm not doing anything." You smile down at him, opting to run your hands through his damp hair. He tongues his cheek. "You're always up to no good."
"Just miss you." You murmur, pressing your forehead against his. He hums in response, pressing yet another chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. "Let me take you to bed." He repeats, voice raspier than before. You nod, before planting your lips against his without second thought. He allows it, kissing you back slowly as his arms wrap around your waist.
"Come on."
Once more, the night is smooth. You notice a few clouds gathering in the distance as Seungkwan wraps you carefully in a towel, his hands gently massaging your shoulders as the two of you trek to his bedroom. You hadn't slept in your own since that one night, with Seungkwan guiding you himself so as to not lose you in the dark.
You hated the way your stomach turned as you reached the bedroom and the clouds seemed closer, hoping it meant nothing. Hoping that you'd get to have this soft side of Seungkwan for longer, hoping that Seungcheol's mind games were just his own problems seeping through in the form of rolling thunder and bright lightning.
"Smells like rain." Seungkwan murmured as he dried your hair carefully with another towel, your eyes closed as you inhaled deeply. "It does."
Neither of you say anything else as you close the window tightly, placing towels on the ground should the forthcoming rain leak through. You slide under the covers as Seungkwan lights a lamp on his desk, burning slowly before he slides in next to you. He holds you close this time, instead of leaving you at arm's length.
"Goodnight, angel."
"Goodnight, Seungkwan."
You try to ignore the clap of thunder in the sky as you snuggle into his chest, your cheek once more squished against his shoulder as he presses a soft kiss to your hairline. His own heart is thundering against his chest, and you can only hope it's because he fears the same thing you do.
Fighting once the night has passed, and the rain continues to pelt the wet Earth – and your blooming relationship alongside it.
EIGHT.
It has been six days since you and Seungkwan have been intimate at all, and there has been endless rain. He hasn't spoken much to you as it is, instead finding his way outside or busying himself in his bedroom – with his door closed. Your cheeks burn in humiliation when he closes the door behind him before bed, leaving you to burn the lamps in your bedroom through all the oil they've got while you curl yourself against the sheets. He doesn't spare you these nights, leaving you to feel your eyes heavy in the mornings, often retreating back during the bright afternoons to nap.
He feels relieved when you're not around.
Your lingering touches earn his hand pushing you away, the confusion in your eyes remaining unanswered as he pushes past you in the mornings. He won't look at you, he won't kiss you, he won't speak unless you speak first. He'll slide breakfast onto your nightstand and disappear for hours once you've awoken, his shoulders hidden behind bushes of flowers and tall trees in his garden. He silently washes the dishes, bakes countless focaccia loaves, pours your wine and runs your bath water.
He didn't join you again. You bit your tongue, hoping maybe it was just some odd rut of his. He seemed lost in thought as he rearranged flowers in clay pots left behind by former pupils as gifts, but you didn't miss the way he stiffened as he heard you behind him.
"Everything okay, Seungkwan?" You questioned softly, a gentle look on your face as you peered over his shoulder. He nods quickly, clearing his throat. "Yes. Lunch is soon, so why don't you spend some time in the bedroom? Or outside? I'll–"
"Come outside with me." You suggest, before scanning his posture. "You've seemed really out of it for the last few days. It's starting to worry me."
"Don't worry about me. I'm just in my head about things, I've got a lot to do." He lies like a dog, and you frown inwardly before stepping forward to stand next to him. "Come with me, Seungkwan."
I miss you, lingers on your tongue, but he sighs frustratedly before his hands find your bare shoulders, turning you quickly and pushing you towards the garden doors. You try not to melt into the heat of his fingers, instead shaking them off quickly as you reach the beginning of the garden. The oak trees lining the garden tower over you, and you frown as the sky turns slightly grey at your presence. The clouds begin to roll in gently, covering the sunlight as you sigh.
"Are you upset with me?" You blurt, turning to face a rather unconfident Seungkwan. His eyes widen as he shakes his head. "Not at all. Come, we can prune the tulips–"
"Seungkwan, be honest with me. I don't like this." Your confession makes his eyes dart away from your face, his hands folding in front of him as he loses purpose for them. He doesn't respond, instead tilting his head in the direction of the tulips. You tongue your cheek, before you step closer to him. His breath hitches in his throat, and you don't think you'd ever seen him look this unsteady.
"What is going on?" You murmur, your hands carefully rising to hold his face. He frowns, quickly capturing your wrists as your palms cover his cheeks. "Nothing is going on, Y/N."
"Where have you gone?" Your whisper is slightly broken, your eyes full of concern for the equally ruined god in front of you. His eyes tear away from yours, nibbling his lip as you raise onto your tiptoes, moving him to face you. "I thought we were making progress here."
"I don't need you to make progress in anything." He says, almost too quickly for you to believe him. Definitely too quickly for you to believe him, "You don't mean that."
"I do. I do mean it, Y/N. Whatever was happening here, it can't continue. I know it must've been confusing, trust me–" You frown, cutting him off abruptly.
"How can I? How can I trust you, when you've done all of this? You give me everything you've got, expressing nothing short of desire for me. You touch me in ways I haven't been since my first life, even by those I've slept with in the past. You kiss me like it means something and then you abandon me, you make me sleep alone like a dog and you don't speak to me. What twisted game are you playing? Is this the just and fair god you claim to be?"
Your anger bounces right off him, his cheeks flaming red as he sighs.
"Y/N, this is a dangerous game. It's got nothing to do with you, or how I could or could not feel about you." His hands take yours off his face, holding your wrists tightly as if he needs them to ground him. Your eyes meet as your back hits the oak tree marking the end of the marigolds – you can see him holding back feelings of desire, and you're sure yours scream the same as the words slip from your lips.
"Then kiss me like you mean it."
He groans, his grip on your wrists loosening as he pulls away. "You know I can't do that, Y/N. It's not right."
"Why? Because I'm some mortal? Because I'll never satisfy you?" You wrestle your wrists out of his grasp, crossing your arms defiantly across your chest. "Y/N–"
"Why won't you let me show you that you're just like me? Because you want to keep up this façade that you're perfect? Huh? Is that it?" You push his chest lightly, watching as the sky rolls with dark clouds in the distance and water begins to pelt the two of you. "Why won't you let me in?"
"Because." His jaw is tight as he turns away, and you grab his arm so he doesn't walk away from you, his shoulders tensing at your touch. "Because what, Seungkwan? Aren't you always spewing that you're a just and fair god? Aren't you always telling me that it's your job to guide? Well, I need some guidance here! Give me something to follow! Let me help you!"
He huffs inwardly, turning back sharply and pulling you to him by your shirt, his other hand pushing your now wet hair out of your face. His eyes trail your face, and he speaks quietly.
"I can't, because you won't be here someday. I'll be left to yearn for you for the rest of my miserable eternity and I can't do that to myself. I could beg and plead with anybody who'll listen to let me have you forever, but I'd be disrupting the natural order of life. I can't kiss you, now or ever again, because you'll suffer. And I think you've had enough suffering for yet another lifetime."
Your brows furrow as you lean in closer to him, feeling his fingers quickly card through your hair and pull you back, your lips just missing his. Your eyes close at the tug, the way you know his rings will snag and you'll like it.
"You can't tell me when I've had enough." You murmur, and he folds.
His lips slot against yours in a fiery kiss, pushing you against the tree and pulling a whimper from your throat as his teeth nip at your lips. You try to keep up, his hands choosing to roam your body, grabbing at any exposed skin they can before finding the slit of your skirt. His fingers circle your thighs carefully, bearing your weight against the rough trunk of the tree and wrapping your legs around his waist.
"This is hard for me, too." He pulls away, eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. "It doesn't have to be. Just let me in, I can help you." You plead with him, his shaky breath against your lips.
"I can't." His eyes close, his fingers tight around your thighs as your red skirt bunches higher. Your hands reach for his face again, thumbs carefully rubbing his cheeks as his eyes open to stare into yours. "Just trust me, Seungkwan."
"It's not right, Y/N." He shakes his head, only for your words to come out with a bite. "You're selfish."
He huffs, nodding. "So what? I am, I am selfish. I can't imagine a fucking life without you tugging on my sleeve, is that what you want to hear? That I'd rather die an honest death than let you help me figure out something I should know on my own? I'm a god, for fuck's sake. I don't need your help, now or ever!"
"Then what the fuck are we doing? Why can't you just mentor me the way you were supposed to, huh? Why did you…" You trail off as you push him away from you, your lips pursed tightly as you fight off tears. Things are happening way too fast – but they started fast, anyway. Impatience usually makes things crumble like sand at your fingertips.
"Just…leave me alone. You don't need me, so I don't need you." You pinch the bridge of your nose, before pushing your wet hair off your face. "Don't walk away from me, we're not done here." His hand shoots out to wrap around your arm, his cool rings digging into your skin as you twist away from him.
"Aren't we? You hurt me, Seungkwan. You're actively hurting me, by pushing me away. You don't care about anyone except yourself, because if you did, you would've never kissed me in the first place. You would've told Jeonghan no when he sent me here, you wouldn't have taken me in. You…you're selfish. You're selfish and you're a liar. And I hate that. I hate you!" You spit, angry tears streaming down your cheeks as you turn away from him.
"I'm not like you, Seungkwan. I can't just hide how I feel, not when I wear my heart on my sleeve. You can pretend all you'd like, fake it until you make it, do whatever you please." You mumble to yourself, sniffling deeply before meeting his eyes. Eyes that have glossed over with tears he won't dare let slip, but you only sigh.
"I deserve better than this." Your lip quivers as you push past him, the rain quickly drenching your top. You shiver as you walk away, wrapping your arms around yourself to create your own warmth as you hear a roll of thunder over your head. "I fucking heard you, Seungcheol. I got it." You mutter inwardly, feeling relief as the rain stops pelting your shoulders the moment you duck into the temple.
You silently walk to the bathroom, turning the faucet on for warm water to run out as you strip off your wet clothing. Your fingers fumble with the pins, holding them between your lips as you ease yourself into the filling tub, not bothering to grab for soap. You sigh as the warmth engulfs your limbs, shivering as you sink further.
Who were you kidding, really? You knew things between a god and a mortal weren't made to last. He'd said it, you'd agreed to it, you even admitted you'd rather die than become a goddess to live alongside a god who deems himself better than you.
But, it doesn't mean you don't know that Seungkwan is far greater than you'd be, potentially ever. He held a power you'd never know anything about, this weight on his shoulders that he admitted himself to. You knew of gods who didn't care for their particular talents, gods who boasted nothing of their importance and gods who simply lacked interest in who or what they represented. You knew of gods who loved endlessly and deeply – Wonwoo and Mingyu. You knew of gods who admitted their wrongdoings – Jeonghan, Woozi, and Vernon.
You knew of gods who willingly did wrong, who willingly admitted it, who still searched and aimed for better – Seungcheol. If the god of the sky could openly spew his own faults, if the god of the sky could do as he pleases without so much as a second thought, why can't Seungkwan?
Why can't you be the reason behind his loss of control, why can't he see you as something more than a mortal he's got to hold together? You're not broken, you're not ruined by anything but the way his skin feels against yours, his lips slotted perfectly into yours, him showing you that he wants nothing more but to melt into you and never stop being one.
So why suddenly switch up his act? Why stop kissing you when he's been all over you for longer than he hasn't, why pretend you're not someone he desires to hold near and dear to his heart when you both know that you were slowly, surely, chipping away at him?
Because he'd be admitting imperfection.
And god forbid Boo Seungkwan admit he's not perfect.
You felt a sob in your throat, but pushed it down as you thumbed at the necklace he'd given you. Emerald, for growth. Scoffing to yourself, you peel it off, leaving it to dangle from the faucet handle as you turn away from it. The rain has stopped now, the sound of nature being overtaken by a few birds chirping in the trees and the occasional frog croaking beneath the windowsill.
The next three days were quieter than ever.
You were locked in your bedroom, ignoring any of Seungkwan's attempts to speak to you. You let breakfast go uneaten, only sneaking out of your room when you'd see him hunched over in the garden from your window. You hid yourself away, opting to weave your fingers numb with the new yarn you hadn't used since you brought it home.
He hadn't been home since last night, either. You didn't question anything, didn't care to. If he'd cared for you to know, he would have told you. After all, he is a just and fair god, is he not?
It's laughable.
All you could do was weave depictions of what you and Seungkwan could have been, or what you were. A large owl wearing an olive branch, a single spider perched carefully on the predator's shoulder. Unassuming, maybe hoping for the best despite expecting the worst from the bird. A twist of the neck, a bite off the head – and you'd be dead.
"Would it be a painful death, at hands so soft?" You murmur to yourself, untangling the yarn from your fingers. The ocean blue was your background, the owl beige and brown with eyes of gold, the spider black with a single patch of gold on its chest. Representing what? Growth? A bruise of pain? A change of heart?
You roll your shoulders back carefully, the soreness digging deep into your left cuff as you stretch. Sighing, you thread your fingers through the loom once more, your tired eyes drooping as you gingerly pull the yarn through. You felt alone, and yes, lonely alongside it all. You hadn't expected the god to weigh so heavily on you. You reminded yourself he chose that, though – he told you that he didn't need you. He doesn't need you to teach him anything. He doesn't need you at all.
Scoffing to yourself, you hear the creek of the window shutters behind you. You don't look over, only hearing the oh-so-familiar click of Jeonghan's boots on the marble tile. "Y/N."
"Tsk, don't remind me that I've been a bad girl this time. Just tell me how I fucked up, yeah?" You respond with practised ease, not bothering to acknowledge him further. Jeonghan sighs, squatting next to your bent form in front of the loom. His fingers ghost over your hunched back, before they touch your skin. His fingertips are nothing like Seungkwan's – ice cold, even a bit callused. You move away.
"You never listen, do you?" He clicks his tongue, and you nibble at your lip without response. Shrugging, you try to act nonchalant when you feel his cold fingers swipe at your cheeks carefully. You look at him with a sigh, earning a pitiful look. "Don't pity me, Jeonghan."
"I don't. I think you're an idiot, but I'd never pity you. You don't deserve that." He shrugs, before sighing. "Nice tapestry."
"Thanks." You look at your fingers, when Jeonghan's hand moves to rest on your shoulder. "How's the shoulder doing? Still gets painful after you bury yourself in work?"
He's referring to your constant whining of shoulder pain from the first time he met you. Something must've happened when you landed, because you'd been groaning about the pain for a few hours until he shoved you in front of a loom and asked you to weave it out – his way of asking you to shut the hell up. You'd woven something for him before he let you leave the Underworld, but like always – lost yourself in the task. You wove beautiful tales of fruit and love, and the tapestry hung proudly behind Jeonghan's throne. You hadn't seen it move since the second time you'd been dropped in.
"It's fine. Haven't had a chance to make myself a salve, Seungkwan won't let me fucking be. He's been gone for a night, though, so I might sneak out if he's not in upon nightfall." You mutter, thrumming your fingertips against the taut yarn. Jeonghan smiles, "Maybe you should let him make you the salve, Y/N. Let him take care of you."
"I'd rather die than take his help." You scowl, crossing your arms with a wince of pain. Jeonghan rolls his eyes, resting his forehead against your bicep. "Darling, don't you think you're being too hard on him? You haven't spoken in three days."
"He chose that. He basically told me I was just a game to him. How the fuck do you know that, anyway?" You move away from his touch again, only for the god's maroon eyes to swirl something dark. "Are we forgetting I assigned you here? I know everything that happens – every branch that snaps, every frog that croaks, every pretty little moan from that throat of yours. I see it all."
"Creep." You stick your tongue out at him, making him stifle a grin. "He talks about you a lot when you're not in earshot. Mostly to himself, but you know." Jeonghan gestures to the air, insinuating he sees all, hears all. Every thought Seungkwan's had of you outside of his own head, Jeonghan knows about.
Meaning Seungcheol also probably knows about it.
You shrug again. "I don't care. He said what he said in front of me, and that negates anything he could've ever said behind my back. He kissed me, Jeonghan."
"Didn't you beg him to?" He taunts, pinching your thigh playfully. You tongue your cheek, an embarrassed blush coating your skin as you nod. "I did…but I guess I got ahead of myself. No…god would ever fall in love with a mortal. Not the way a mortal would a god."
Jeonghan's eyes widen at your words, taking your hands in his quickly. He squeezes them gently, "Don't say that."
"Isn't it the truth? No god just falls in love with a mortal, Jeonghan. A god would be a fool to do that, even Mingyu did it by accident. He struck himself with an arrow, that love is nothing but purely coincidental. It's just held together by that, strings of coincidence." You scoff, and Jeonghan's brows furrow incredulously.
"Are you hearing yourself, darling? This isn't you." He shakes head at you, his bangs falling from the crown of Gladiolus flowers he wore religiously. You snort, tucking the stray hair under the petals quickly before sighing. "It's the truth, Jeonghan. Whether I want to believe it or not, whether I felt something for someone like Seungkwan at some point, it's the truth. It's not meant to be, so as soon as you say I can leave this place…I'm going."
Your words pierce something within him, you can tell as he frowns deeply. His jaw ticks, as he mutters under his breath. You tilt your head at him, leaning closer, to hear the words spill from his lips. "You're the fool, Y/N."
You frown inwardly, as Jeonghan groans in frustration. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. The two of you were on a good path. You were figuring things out, even if it was by exploring each other the way you chose to. You were intimate in ways Seungkwan hasn't been with anyone else before – he kissed you, he was letting you in. What happened?"
Jeonghan paces in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked around. His lip tucked between his teeth as he nibbled lightly, your own voice tearing through the air as if to cut through any building tension.
"He just regrets it. It happens." You shrug, earning a scoff from the god in front of you. "Regrets it? Y/N, the guy was practically falling in love with you! You're smart, you're charming, you're the biggest brat I've ever met! How could he regret you, darling?"
I don't know, you want to say. But a part of you doesn't want to know, either. Your eyes sting as you look away, but you close them only as you speak once more. "You're right, either way. I am the fool, Jeonghan, as are you."
"Me!? I was trying to help you!" He balks, a look of incredulity in his eyes as a strong wind blows your shutters open. You jump in your seat, the tension in your shoulder making you groan as you dig your fingers into it carefully. "I know, and I appreciate it. It's just a shame it went to waste, I guess. He doesn't need me, and soon, I won't need him."
Jeonghan's jaw is tense as he stands upright, towering over you as you awkwardly adjust yourself on your stool. "Fine."
"What?" You glance up at him, your hands now folded in your lap. "You can go. Whenever you're ready, you can leave the temple without another word."
Jeonghan's words are anything but comforting, something you weren't used to from him. His eyes are darker than normal as he rubs at his temples, his tongue running over his lip as he sighs. "I expect you to return to Lydia and find Wonwoo. You'll room with him while you get back on your feet. I can get you an escort by tomorrow morning, if you choose to stay the night here. It smells like rain."
Your brows raise at the phrase, something Jeonghan doesn't care to acknowledge. "I expect you to be on your best behavior, because we meant what we said, Y/N. No more second chances."
You blink at the god before you, who only shakes his head. "You can never say I didn't try."
Jeonghan ruffles the tendrils of your hair, carding his fingers through it before pressing a chaste kiss to your hairline. He sighs, "Good luck. You know where to find me."
He spins on his heel, the soles of his shoes clicking against the marble once more as he treks the room. "Finish that tapestry before you leave. It'd do you well to leave Seungkwan a parting gift."
You don't respond as Jeonghan hops out of the window, pulling the shutters closed as he lands on the ground.
Was it really that easy? You just get to say you're done? It's never been that easy before. Jeonghan has never let you off the hook so smoothly, much less when it's something that benefits him just as much (if not more) than it benefits you.
You turn back to the unfinished tapestry, the yarn now tangled at your feet. You bend at the waist to pick it up, feeling your shoulder tense up as you begin undoing the knots. Soon, it's all just strings of blue and beige and brown, and your eyes feel tired as you weave into gloomy sunset.
No rain yet.
"It's certainly a pleasure to see you, Seungkwan."
The younger god squirms under Seungcheol's gaze, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. He rarely visited, and if he did, it was never without good reason. Like you, he too loved to do shit he wasn't supposed to. It often landed him here, whereas most mortals landed with Jeonghan – call it father-son privileges.
"Likewise." He replies curtly, clearing his throat as he lowers himself to the chair one of the angels has brought forth for him. He sits silently, with Seungcheol simply arching his brow at him in curiosity. "What brings you here? Trouble in paradise?"
Seungkwan chokes as Seungcheol smiles into his teacup.
"What?"
"Before there was you, there was me." Seungcheol gestures at their surroundings with his bejeweled hands, setting the teacup down before him. "You've come to ask for redemption."
"I have not!" Seungkwan scoffs as the servants place a plate of sliced fruit and warmed bread in front of him, the honey wand still inside his teacup as they slide it down. Seungkwan's ears burn in embarrassment as Seungcheol folds his hands, his eyes holding the same kind of mischief they've always shown. Seungkwan grimaces at the spread of food before him, his stomach churning at the idea of you sneaking out of your bedroom tonight as well, hoping he won't be in the kitchen as you steal bites of focaccia and cheese, pieces of salmon and lamb disappearing from the counter. Pieces he's left out for you, hoping you'll take them. Even if you don't accept the silent apology behind them.
"Being a god weighs on you heavier than I've ever seen before." Seungcheol speaks softly, earning a wistful look from Seungkwan. He doesn't respond, Seungcheol running his hand through his hair as he sighs. "You know I can't do anything for you up here, right?"
"I was just hoping you'd give me some peace of mind." Seungkwan's eyes flutter closed, and Seungcheol scoffs out a soft, humorless laugh. "Me? Of all people?"
"Believe it or not, I do admire your insane strength sometimes. I'm sure it'd drive me mad to be in charge of everything and everyone. I can barely handle one person." Seungkwan admits quietly, making the older man smile sadly. "I wasn't always like this."
"I know." Seungkwan nods, his hand moving to take the honey wand out of his cup. "I think it was you who told me that I can't be good at everything right away. I have to learn my way."
"And was I wrong? Have you not become better at things?" Seungcheol's voice holds a tilted tone, strong brows pointing Seungkwan in the direction of what's needed to be said. He sighs, nodding as he brings the teacup to his lips.
"Why does it come so easily to her?" He whispers against the porcelain, and Seungcheol only shakes his head. "What comes easily to her, comes easily to you. Both good and bad, but you both choose to focus on the things you don't have. You're human that way, you know."
Seungkwan's brows raise as he looks up at the older god, who stirs a bit of cream into his tea. "I know I'm not a love expert. I've done it all – adultery, multiple wives, reverse harem at one point." Seungcheol clears his throat, cheeks tinging pink as he continues. "But I know a good woman when I see one. Y/N…she gets you. She fakes you out just enough, but never takes it too far. She knocks you down a few pegs, she makes you loosen up."
"I do nothing for her." Seungkwan mumbles, holding the warm tea in his hands. It's only a few shades lighter than the first cup of tea you'd ever made for him. Seungcheol hums, "I'd argue that you do a lot for her. You feed her, bathe her, clothe her."
"That's my job." The younger god tries to argue, but Seungcheol shakes his head with a smile. "Your job, Seungkwan, is to guide her. You let guilt take you down a path you would've never taken in the first place, but that guilt has begun to melt away into something much deeper. You peel her peaches. You add tomatoes to the focaccia when you hate tomatoes, you pour her wine, you fit her clothes. You hold her close and you've kissed her, Seungkwan. You've let her get further and deeper than anyone ever has."
Seungkwan sits in silence, feeling his eyes sting with tears as he looks away.
"You love her." Seungcheol whispers, making Seungkwan rest his elbows on the table, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as his shoulders shake lightly. Seungcheol reaches over, running his palm down Seungkwan's back with a gentle sigh. "You have to talk to her, Seungkwan. She figured you out faster than anyone has before. She unwrapped you from the day she got there."
Seungkwan wipes at his eyes with frustration, letting a breath slip through his lips as he leans over the plate of food in front of him. He hopes you're eating something by now.
"You have to apologize, and admit your faults. You won't get through this life being so uptight about everything. They know we mess up, mortals are mortal, they're not dumb." Seungcheol rolls his eyes, earning a soft smack from Seungkwan. Wiping the younger's cheek, Seungcheol strokes the side of his head gently. "So you admit, you're looking for redemption?"
Seungkwan struggles not to roll his eyes, before reluctantly nodding his head.
"We can do that. Shall we?"
Seungkwan follows Seungcheol with his head low, hands clasped behind his back as the two of them make their way down the weaving halls of Seungcheol's paradise. One he'd built brick by brick, with the sweat off his brow and blood of his fingertips – housing over hundreds of gods.
Including Mingyu and his wife, Tzuyu.
Seungcheol knocks on the soft pink door, the gold knob twisting open to reveal a barely dressed Mingyu with hair stuck to his forehead. Seungcheol snorts as he pushes past, seeing Tzuyu sitting at their shared desk with a pile of books draped open in front of her. "No hello?" She calls, and Seungkwan watches as she turns in her seat.
Her outfit of a long gown and glittering sandals screams date night. Mingyu's lack thereof screams night in. A couple's quarrel, Seungkwan can tell, from the tick in her jaw and his sleepy eyes. The flowers from a few weeks ago sit in a jar, still teeming with life despite being brutally murdered by his shears.
"Hello. I've come to deliver something much more interesting than date night." Seungcheol wiggles his brows at the goddess, whose wings twitch with curiosity. "Seungkwan?"
"Just trust me." The god of the sky pushes the younger one forward, and Tzuyu's eyes flash something wild as she looks over at her husband, who is now tugging a light beige chiton over his chiseled physique. "I've no reason to trust you, Seungcheol. But…I guess this is better than nothing."
"Baby, I already said I was sorry. I'll make it up to you." Mingyu whines as his head gets stuck in the top of his shirt, making Seungkwan roll his eyes as he reaches over to help him. Mingyu's head pops out with a dazed look, before he shakes his head to regain his composure. The goddess before him frowns, but sighs in resignation. "What are we doing?"
Seungcheol smiles, grabbing Seungkwan's shoulders and pushing him forward. "Loverboy here needs some guidance."
She quirks a brow in interest, her wings flickering behind her as she stands. The goddess flits around the duo, her manicured hands resting on her chin as her husband sits on her cushioned bench. "What are we guiding, exactly? And take your shoes off!"
Seungcheol only smiles as Tzuyu forces Seungkwan to sit down, a worried look in the younger god's eyes as she hums. "This is about that pupil of yours, isn't it? Y/N, the mortal?"
He nods silently, picking at his cuticles as Tzuyu gives the other gods a look of mirth. "Young love." She grins, before patting the god's shoulders. "I can fix you."
"Don't. I'm fine like this." Seungkwan blurts, making Mingyu's eyes crinkle at the corners. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Can't be perfect all the time, can I?" He shivers as the words slip past his lips, and the surrounding gods only nod in agreement. "Well, let's get started." Tzuyu's voice breaks in once more, and Seungcheol steps back to allow her some more room. Seungkwan's eyes fill slightly with a bit of fear, but they close at Seungcheol's command.
Nothing but warmth can be felt around him, his chest tightening with the thought of you flooding his mind. So this is love.
It's well past nightfall as you massage your shoulder gently, your fingers not going nearly as deep as you need them to but the finished tapestry mocking you in the corner of the room. You groan in frustration, tears gathering in your waterline as you paw at yourself. You didn't manage to leave the room for dinner either, hearing Seungkwan (or…who you assumed to be Seungkwan) stumbling around in the kitchen. Truth be told, you're too much of a wimp to check.
It didn't matter now, anyway. You'd agreed with yourself to leave the following morning, hoping for no rain. Your tapestry was large and completed, bold blues and soft beige catching the corner of your eye every way you turned. You situated your items into the bag that the yarn vendor gave you, including the blanket Seungkwan had purchased before the walk home. Your clothes were neatly rolled at the bottom, and one singular book of poems tucked under the red glitter sash you'd stolen from the god on your first few days here.
It's an odd feeling, imagining your life continuing without Seungkwan. No one to badger, no one to long for. Wonwoo would be around, but he was more your friend than anything else. Someone who took care of you as you did him, because that's what friends are for.
Jeonghan is just another god who gave you another chance. You've no friends outside the two of them, if you can even consider them to be friends. You don't know why you did it in the first place, but it makes you sick to admit that maybe, for the first time – Seungkwan's words of you not being perfect are starting to seep in deeper.
You hear a soft knock at your door, and you quickly wipe your face of any tears that would give you away as you sit up on your bed. You cross your legs over another, before clearing your throat, "Come in."
Seungkwan's tired eyes peer in through the crack of the door, scanning you quickly. "Can we talk?"
You don't really want to talk to him. You know that if you do, you might cry. Not that he wasn't good at making you do that anyway, but it's not like he cared. Who knows where they got 'compassionate' from, but you figure that a cruel goodbye is better than no goodbye.
Nodding slowly, you watch as he slips into your bedroom, a shaky sigh from his lips as he looks at the silver tin in his hand, paired with wrapping sheets and a towel. His way of apologizing, you noticed, was this. Homemade things that would or could be of use to you, or something you might like. Like the linen he'd gotten you on your second day here with him.
"For your shoulder. It's…it's menthol and peppermint, and a little capsaicin for heat." He opens it, the muted orange salve glistening at you. You shrug, a wince crossing your face as your shoulder ticks with pain. He looks at you, and there's something in his eyes you don't recognize. You didn't really know Seungkwan, you were certain now – but his behavior seemed out of the ordinary.
"Thank you. I'd put it on, but…" You gesture at your clothing, and roll your eyes as your shoulder throbs. "You can just leave–"
"I can do it for you, if you'd like." He speaks quickly, fumbling with the lid as you raise a brow at him. You recall the way he barked at you just days before, telling you he'd rather die than ever let a mortal like you help him in a time of need. The fury in his eyes when he said he didn't need you to teach him anything, and his subtle acknowledgement of that meaning he'd be depriving himself of you and your touch, your presence, your love – for the rest of your time on this Earth with him.
You click your tongue, but he rushes to sit on your bed, the wool mattress sinking below him. He adjusts himself to sit behind you, his inner thighs gently pressing against your hips. You don't say anything, simply reach for the pin that holds your top together and take it out, letting the soft cloth slip off your torso.
His hand moves your hair carefully, fingertips brushing your neck as he swoops it over. Your fingers hold it in place as you see the tin appear on his thigh, slender fingers taking a bit. "This'll be cold for a moment."
The salve is cool as it touches your skin, the feeling against heat of your pained muscle making you jump. He lets out a muffled sound, his fingers softly working the salve into your skin. "Easy, don't move." He murmurs, feeling the heat of the capsaicin in his fingertips.
He's gentle and focused, and you remain rigid in front of him as thunder rolls ahead. Sighing at the sound, you peer over your injured shoulder. "Almost finished?"
His eyes flicker to yours, lips pressed lightly together as he nods. You don't turn back around just yet, watching his face carefully as he continues. His free hand grabs a wrapping sheet, and he presses it firmly to your skin.
"So it won't get on your clothes." He murmurs, and you nod, before facing out the window again. The clouds are rolling in, and you see a singular lightning bolt light up the sky. You wonder what Seungcheol could be doing now.
He wipes his fingers on a towel, tossing it into the empty dirty clothing basket behind you. Capping the tin, he uses his other hand to move your hair back. He slides the tin onto your night table, before grabbing the pin for your shirt and moving his hands to your front, gathering the fabric in his fingers and pulling it up, his knuckles lightly grazing your bare breasts. You don't react.
Neither does he.
He carefully pins your shirt back into place, adjusting the neck so it's a little loose. He doesn't move, so you speak up. "All done?"
Nothing. You feel his fingers card through your curls gently, tugging slightly. Maybe reminiscing how it felt in his hand when he kissed you in his garden for the first time. It had been just about to rain that day, too…and it did. It poured like a motherfucker.
His fingers stop, instead ghosting over the slope of your neck and along the naked skin of your uninjured shoulder. He shifts behind you, and you feel his hand drop from your skin, instead feeling his forehead pressed against your body. His hair tickles, and you sigh.
"What are you doing, Seungkwan?" Your voice is gentle, it's tired. It's confused, as he breathes against you, his arms circling your torso and pulling you closer to him. Your back hits his chest, and you feel his warm lips caress your skin, heat surging your cheeks as he presses them into you. Once, twice, three times.
"I'm sorry."
You tense, his hands clutching the cloth of your shirt for dear life. "What?"
He rests his chin on your shoulder, peering up at you with the most sorrowful eyes you'd ever seen on a man, much less a god. They're glazed with unshed tears. "I'm sorry."
Here he was. The same god who insisted he'd never admit to anything, any wrong doings, especially not to a mortal. The same god who looked down on you for being so irrevocably human, the same god who watched as you did the most mundane things and wondered aloud if you needed to do those things – and insisted they were weird to him.
"You're…sorry." You repeat, and he nods slowly.
"I've been horrible to you. From the beginning, I was cold and I was indifferent and I should've welcomed you with open arms because that is what a just god would do." His voice is shaky, "I don't want to make you feel like…you're not important to me. You're so important to me and I don't want to live a life where I know I can't find my way back to you, where I have to look for you in every person I try to fill the void shaped by you."
You're silent, and he takes it as a sign to keep going.
"I need to wake up in the mornings not knowing where I start and where you end. I need to know you're not gone from my life forever if I ever wake up alone, but somewhere in this place I call home, a place I need you to call home."
A singular tear rolls down his cheek, meeting your shoulder as you keep staring.
"I need you. I'm sorry I haven't been making it seem that way, I'm sorry I lied about it. I'm sorry that I couldn't admit that I was afraid I wouldn't be enough for you. I feared that your prophecies would ring with truth and you'd leave me behind."
He confesses this all in nothing higher than a whisper, tears continuing to roll down his face as he presses his cheek to your skin. You feel your chest ache something awful, before looking away. "I told Jeonghan I'd leave for Lydia in the morning. I'm going to be staying with Wonwoo."
You lie easily when you're not facing him, but the weight of it all hangs heavy on your shoulders as he peers over you. "You're leaving?"
The silence is deafening as you nod your head, moving away slightly from his hold. His hands fall flat against his thighs, fingers squeezing them as though to ground himself. He shifts behind you, a soft apology tumbling from his lips as he moves to climb off your bed – but you place your hand on his knee, instinctively. You sigh, patting it gently as you twist to look at him. "I'd rather a nice goodbye, Seungkwan. I don't want you to be…this. Sad, I assume."
"Then don't leave." He whispers, his hands reaching for your waist. He caresses the sliver of skin softly, "Don't leave me here to miss you."
"You left me, first." You shake your head, but his hands only grip onto you tighter. "And I want to prove that I deserve you, that I need you to stay. Please, please don't go."
"I don't know if I can trust you to do that, Seungkwan. You…I…" You trail off as he nudges you with his nose, his lips just barely brushing the shell of your ear.
"I know I don't deserve it, I don't deserve a chance to show you that I am deeply, irrevocably in love with you. I am truly just a man at your disposal. Please don't leave me, not now. Not ever."
Your cheeks burn as he presses a chaste kiss to the lobe of your ear. His fingertips move to brush the tops of your knees, exposed by the way your skirt bunches around your thighs. You push down a shiver as he palms at your skin. "I can't get you out of my mind. Every waking moment I have is consumed by you, it's killing me inside. I can't sleep without you in my bed, I don't feel full if we're not eating together. I don't feel satisfied."
"That only proves that you're a man. Because you're selfish, to the depth of you. You're a selfish, careless man who hurts people who love you." Your voice is thick with tears, an accusatory finger to his chest as you turn to face him fully. He smiles sadly, before nodding as his hand floats to tuck a stray curl behind your ear.
"I am. I'm so insanely selfish and I only want you. I could go the rest of my life without my wisdom, my wealth, anything I could ever conjure up with all the words I know." He sighs, his knuckles pinching the fat of your cheek gently. You frown, pushing his hand away, only for his fingers to interlace with yours and pull your hand to his chest. "But you? Angel."
You huff, your nose burning as you swallow your tears. "You don't get to just apologize and then we move on, Seungkwan. That's not how that works, that's not life."
"Isn't it? Should I grovel at your feet? I'll do it. I'll do anything you ask of me, if it means you stay." He holds your hand tightly, rings digging into your skin as he scans your face. "I miss you, Y/N."
You close your eyes, a soft sob escaping your throat as he pulls your face to his chest. "I'm sorry, my angel. I know I've hurt you. I will never forgive myself if I let you out of my life knowing you don't see yourself how I do."
You cry softly into the soft material of his chiton, his voice hushed as he rains gentle praises over the crown of your head, his lips pressing kisses gently against it. His fingers tangle in your hair, carefully undoing the knots like the day you arrived, his fingernails scraping at your skin with precision. You feel his thumb pad at your under eye, pushing your face back to press a kiss to your forehead.
"Let me prove myself to you. You can leave, if I'm not enough. I won't stop you, then and only then." His eyes hold hope as they meet yours, a shaky sigh from your lips as you look away. "What if you're not?"
"Then I'll suffer. I'll suffer for the rest of eternity and I'll deal with it, I've made this bed. I'll lay in it." He holds your face carefully, before you stand from his hold. His hands fall to your hips, eyes looking up at you expectantly as you nibble on your lip. "What made you change your mind?"
He doesn't respond, only pushing you back slightly to stand before you. His hands squeeze you with anxiety, "Kissing you for the first time made me feel like I was on fire. It took everything in me not to give myself to you entirely that night. I can't lose control like that, it's terrifying."
"Show me. Show me how much you care." You murmur, your fingers clutch at his shirt, "Trust me, Seungkwan."
His lips are on yours before another word can slip out. It's messy, it's desperate, it screams I missed you. His arms move to embrace you fully, pulling your body to his as one of his hands snakes up to the nape of your neck. Clashes of teeth and tongue as he spins the two of you around, your knees hitting the edge of the bed as he pushes you back onto it. You peer up at him, watching the way his eyes take you in slowly.
"You're so beautiful." He murmurs, sinking to his knees on the floor. You feel his hands wrap around your ankles, and you brace yourself for him to pull you towards him – only to feel his lips pepper chaste kisses to the skin of your foot. You glance down at him, his eyes closed as he trails his lips and tongue up your calf, sinking his teeth into the soft muscle as you jerk. "Hated seeing his hands all over you. I'm still not over that."
"That was over a week ago." You remind him with a soft breath, earning a scoff. "Should've never touched you in the first place. I'll fix it." He shrugs, continuing his ministrations down your plush thighs, nipping and licking with precision as your body jolts against him.
He rests his cheek against your inner thigh, arms pulling you closer to his face. "Can't believe I went without you for so long. I'm sorry, my angel." He speaks to himself, bunching your skirt at your hips when you sheepishly reach for the corner, untugging it from its tucked place and tossing it over the side of the bed.
Your thighs are spread before him, your cunt glistening with your arousal as he sighs shakily, inhaling deeply with a chaste kiss to your clit. It's almost torture, how his tongue fluidly glides through your folds like he was made to please you, to devour you in one go and enjoy it so lavishly. His eyes remain closed as he holds your hips to his face, sucking languidly at your clit as you bite back your moans, your hand holding onto his hair.
"Let me hear you, baby. Wanna hear you." He whines, almost unable to detach himself from your sloppy cunt to speak. It's muffled as you pull on his hair, a moan from his throat vibrating against you making it all the more stimulating for your poor mind.
"Missed you. Missed you so fucking much, my gorgeous girl." He keeps talking into your skin, lips coated in your slick as he buries his tongue impossibly deeper, rings digging into the supple flesh of your ass as you cant against his mouth, chasing the feeling of the end.
Your legs threaten to snap shut around his head as you sob out his name quietly, his hand finding yours and squeezing it as your orgasm seeps through you, coating his lips and tongue messily. "That's it, angel. Fuck, look at that, hm? So pretty for me. Just for me."
"S'too m-much–" You gasp as your hips betray you, chasing after his tongue as he smiles into your skin. "Oh, but there's so much more to love, angel. You'll let me, right? You'll let me show you how much I love you, won't you?"
"W-want you inside," You pout as he hovers over you, nimble fingers pulling at the pins holding your top shut. "We'll get there, I promise. I just want to kiss you right now." He pulls at the fabric, the white wrapping sheet stark against your skin as he gently removes the top you've wrapped around yourself.
"Kiss you…bite you…worship you. All for me, my girl. My angel." Seungkwan's voice is hushed against your stomach, his teeth biting at any skin you'll allow. Red marks bloom almost instantly as he whispers sweet nothings, his hands carefully holding you hostage against his warm body. "Seungkwan." You groan impatiently, feeling the rut of his hips between yours, a choked moan from his throat as his lips trail up your chest, tongue darting out to land a teasing lick to your pebbled nipple.
"Seungkwan." You sigh, his hand now pinning your unwrapped arm above your head. His tongue laps at your chest like a man starved, your head now nestled between the pillows. You can't move from his grasp, only squirming beneath him before wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him flush against your core. "Fuck me already." You wrestle your arm out of his grip, interlacing your fingers as his nose brushes yours.
"I'm nervous." He admits quietly, his eyes scouring your face for any chance of laughter. Something to humiliate him with, something to dangle over his head. Your cheeks flush softly, running your fingers through his hair as you pull him down for a kiss. "Let me help you."
"Y/N–"
"Please. Trust me." Your lips hardly disconnect from his, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you use your weight to flip him onto his back. He sighs as your lips drag down his jaw, eyes fluttering shut as you tug his earlobe through your teeth.
"Always so tense, hm? Just let go." You murmur, feeling his cock brush against your core. You zero in on his skin, carefully tugging his shirt over his head and reconnecting your lips. Your tongue slips through his lips, licking at his own as his hands hold your hips tightly, scared to let you go. You sigh against his lips as your hips begin to rut against him, feeling his jaw slack at the friction. "Don't worry about anything. I've got you, I promise."
He only nods in response, your hand reaching down to palm him through his pants. "Don't tease me, please." He shudders at your touch, his hips bucking into the warmth of your hand as you coo at him. "I won't, gotta get these off."
You tug his pants down quickly, his leaking cock painfully hard in your hand. He whimpers against you, eyes screwed shut as you press your thumb against his tip lightly, a gasp of please falling from his bitten lips. You throw his pants over the edge of the bed, quickly readjusting yourself over his lap as his hands find your thighs.
"Be gentle." He mumbles, tears collecting at the corners of his eyes as he remains vulnerable, your hands stroking his face softly as you kiss his nose. "I'll take good care of you, okay? We've got the rest of our lives."
If you feel the jolt in his chest at your words, you say nothing. You only rock against his hard length carefully, slowly sinking down. You stop as his hands squeeze your thighs with vigor, choked whimpers from his throat as you carefully grind into his lap. "Good?"
"S-so good, angel. Fuck," A few tears spill from his eyes, your lips quickly kissing them away as you sink further down, the muscled flesh of his thighs flat against your ass. "Want you to see me, Kwannie. Please." You kiss around his face, his eyes peeling open to reveal absolute floodgates of adoration.
"I love you. Please, please don't leave me." He sobs softly, making you smile against his skin. "Shh. Let me show you, yeah?"
You carefully begin a rhythm, his cock stretching you just right, dragging perfectly against your gummy walls. Your noises are caught in your throat, mutters of you feel so good, oh my God…from your lips making his fingers grab at your hips tightly. His eyes are glued to your face, the way your lip is caught between your teeth as you try to hold back. Your fingers are digging into his shoulders as you feel his hands move to your breasts, carefully rolling your nipples through the pads of his fingers as you whimper.
"So beautiful." You call softly, entranced at the movement of your hips and the warmth of his hands on you, his own sight lost at the feeling of you so tight and wet and all for him. "Wanted you for so long, angel. Can never get you off my mind." He whines at your quickening movements, your hands holding his against your chest as your soft sounds fill his ears.
"Want you forever." You whisper, clenching around his length at the guttural moan from his lips. He flushes in embarrassment as you lean to speak in his ear, the wet sounds between you only making everything feel heavier. "Want you only, Seungkwan. Forever."
"I'll be better. I promise, angel, I'll be the best man I can." He nods frantically as you clench around him, a shaky moan from your lips as his thumb snakes between your legs, tracing circles onto your clit as your thighs tremble. "Want you all to myself, please. Please let me have you."
You nod nervously, your fingers shaking as you sigh, your orgasm building quickly in your lower belly. "I'll give you everything, for you in return. Promise me. Tell me you're mine just as I am yours."
"I promise, angel." He ruts his hips up into yours, matching your pace gently as he brings your face lower, your lips brushing barely as he speaks. "For as long as I live, I promise I'll be nothing but yours. My dying days, my worst moments, I'm yours."
Your lips connect messily, the kiss nothing but bumping of teeth as you come undone around him with a low whine, feeling his skin stick to yours. The flutter of your walls is overwhelming him, high-pitched whimpers from his throat, "B-Baby–"
"I know, I know. Please, make me yours." You sob against his lips, your hips desperately canting against his as his cries hit your ears, feeling his cock twitch inside you before he finally lets go. He shudders, pulling you impossibly closer in a bruising kiss.
His hand loosely circles your neck as he holds you close, lips moving in sloppy tandem with yours as he lazily thrusts into you through his orgasm. Ignoring your soft cries of overstimulation, only whispering be mine, please against your spit-covered lips as you shake slightly in his arms.
You force yourself away from him on trembling arms, your thighs locking his hips down as he chases after your mouth. You muster a stern look, your eyes examining the vulnerable god before you — with parted splotchy lips and cheeks, teary eyes glazed over with post-orgasm sleepiness. Brows scrunched at the middle, your thumb instinctively reaching to pad out the wrinkle.
“You think way too much.” You mutter, watching his eyes go wide as his mouth begins to open to speak. You place your hand over his lips, sighing before you speak. “You think entirely too much for one person. You’re a selfish brat, you’re carrying way too much on your shoulders. You can’t save everyone, Seungkwan. Who saves you, huh?”
He doesn’t respond, only blinking up at you quietly. You give him a pointed look, making him look at your chest in defeat. His brows raise, before looking back at your eyes. “You do.”
It’s muffled, but earns a tired laugh from you anyway. “You know I can’t, right? I’m not like you.”
He tugs your hand away from his face, voice hoarse as he tries to sit up gently. He only makes it to his elbows, his fingertips brushing your knees innocently. “Goddess or not, the power you have over me is unfathomable.”
“Big words already? Already back in your head, huh?” You teasingly tap his temple, and he huffs embarrassedly. “You drive me fucking crazy, alright? Up the wall insane. Is that good enough?”
You only smile down at him, your hand cupping his face gently as you pinch his cheek. “What am I going to do with you, hm?”
“Love me.” He blurts. “Love me until you can’t anymore. Please, have that mercy upon me.”
“It won’t be easy. This…you and me.” You admit, sighing as your hands splayed across his chest. “You have to give me all of you, not just what you deem fit for my consumption. I’m a mortal, I’m not weak or dazed or whatever you may think of me. I don't care about what you are, god or mortal.”
“I don’t think that of you at all, angel.” He shakes his head quickly, but you just run your hand through his hair to stop him. "We'll get there, okay? I just…I don't know how to do this. The relationship thing, I've spent so long being a pain in Jeonghan's ass."
You earn a snort from him, his fingers tracing light circles into your knee as he shrugs in defeat. "I don't, either. There's a lot of things I don't know how to do, but I'm not worried if I'm learning next to you." He speaks softly, and you roll your eyes. "You're a sap."
"You'll stay, right?" His eyes search your face with care, heart picking up its gentle pace in his chest as you smile down at him, pressing your lips to his forehead with a sigh. "Wouldn't dream of leaving."
The two of you jump at the sound of thunder rumbling, your hand flying to your chest as the shutters flew open. Seungkwan steadies you atop him, wincing at the reminder that he'd still sheathed inside you. He doesn't make an effort to move you off, only mumbling. "We're sticky."
You snort, "Wanna get stickier?"
EPILOGUE.
Opening his heart to you only opened an unlimited number of doors for Seungkwan.
He noticed more about you — particularly, the way you loved him. Your fingers easily picked the cherry tomatoes off his pieces of focaccia before handing it over, your hands bared the heat of his hot tea as you stirred it. You whispered dirty words in his ears to fluster him, your hands snaking around his body without hesitation. Every surface in your shared home was christened with you in whatever position imaginable, crumbled whines of how much you loved him falling from your lips as he worked tirelessly to please you.
He noticed the way you’d silently take the lead if something became too overwhelming for him, something he’d yet to figure out on his own. You’d take shears from his hands in the garden, you’d put a pretty spring of lavender over his ear at the slightest sound of a discouraged grunt. You’d kiss his temple, his cheek, his nose, lips with such gentle fervor, he’d feel himself melt away.
Much like he is in this moment, seeing you holding a skewer with candied orange slices. Your lips are slightly coated in sugar crystals, your hand growing weak from gripping the thin stick so tightly. He walks over silently, his fingers prying it from your grasp as you stop talking to Mingyu to acknowledge him with a gentle smile.
“I’ve got it.”
He only takes the skewer, rolling his eyes. “I’ve got you. Just let me.”
“This is a beautiful look on you, Seungkwan. So young and in love.” Mingyu’s voice is full of teasing, earning a scowl from the younger god — one that gets pinched away by your fingers on his cheek. “Stop that.”
Seungkwan’s eyes fall to you, your relaxed shoulders surrounded by everyone you’ve only ever heard of — and stories you’ve only told, never known. You’re covered by the tapestry you’d made for him, the large owl on display across your back as a matching blue hood covers your hair carefully. You’d been far too proud of it to only display it in the temple — and you’d been right to do so, you’d only received compliments since, from gods and mortals alike.
Your posture only proved how little everyone's power affected you. You cared nothing of their advantages, their own hubris, nothing – you spoke to everyone the same way. You smiled mischievously, you nibbled on the inside of your cheek when deep in thought. You nodded along to deeper stories of woe and war, and held your wine glass close to your chest when offered more.
Your eyes would look for him in the crowds of gods, looking for the bright green wreath he donned regularly amongst his peers. He'd meet them every so often, a soft look of concern on his face as you simply smiled and turned back to your conversation. You'd find him for comfort, for strength, for someone to hold your drink if your wrist got tired. You stood in front of everyone with a brave smile, but he knew that deep down, you'd be once more leaving everything you'd known life to be – this time, for him. To be by his side, as an eternal being he can love and worship and tend to. A goddess of his very own, one that no one has to understand but him – and he selfishly hopes no one ever does decipher the intricate ways of your heart, the weaves of your fingers and stories of your mind.
So sure, it might not be the best thing ever. It might be an admittance of imperfection, it might be lack of common sense for a god so skilled to fall straight into the sticky web of a lying, deceiving mortal. A mortal who has pushed and pulled him back and forth, a mortal who has shown him pure and unadulterated appreciation despite knowing that their past is one of the rockiest starts to a love story ever possibly written. A mortal who is now knelt before his fellow gods, Seungcheol's hand hovering over your head as he gently allows yet another disturbance of natural order – yet another mortal, who fell for a god, and a god who lost his first fight to love.
"Hey." You murmur, weaving through a few people to reach him. He looks up, eyes wide as you untuck your hair from the cloak. In your hand is the singular crown of marigolds Seungcheol had given you, something that Seungkwan brought forth when you made the trip to see the god of the sky. Seungcheol welcomed you into his home with a warm smile, giving Seungkwan a wink as the two of you left everyone in awe.
"Hey, you." He nods, setting down his glass of wine on the bar. Your candied orange is still in his other hand, and you happily take it back, sinking your teeth into the crumbly sugar. "Drinking all by yourself, handsome?"
"You don't have to keep flirting with me, you know. I'm already a mess." He rolls his eyes, but you only coo at the tinge of pink in his ears. "But I do, my love. It keeps our love alive." You gesture methodically to the air around you, making him laugh.
"How are you feeling? I don't know the mortal-to-goddess route." He snakes his arms around your waist, earning a whistle from Mingyu across the room. He childishly sticks his tongue out at him, making you smile. "Mmh. I feel the same, I think. Just a little bit of pressure."
"Comes with the job, I fear." He nods, plucking the marigold crown from your fingers. "You need to wear this, pretty." He jostles it gently, blooming the petals further with his fingertips. You bow your head slightly, and he places it carefully atop your hair.
"I love you." He murmurs, tucking a loose strand of your hair over your ear. You only smile in return, pressing a sugary kiss to the side of his lips. "As endlessly as I love you?"
"Probably more. I would die without you." He nods quickly, pressing his lips to your cheek. "Can't have that, can we?"
🕸️ synopsis: when you realize your friend (with benefits) actually has feelings for you, a tangled web of lies and avoidance ensues.
🕸️ genre: friends with benefits au ; big dummy dumb idiots to lovers because it's the only trope ever ; ta x student dynamics ; fluff, angst & smut (surprise?)
🕸️ pairing: zoology ta!kwon soonyoung x marine biology major!reader | side pairings: joshua hong x sana minatozaki ; vernon chwe x roh jisun (fromis_9) ; lee chan x jung haerim (weki meki) | mentions of: reader x yuta nakamoto (nct) ; reader x lee sangyeon (the boyz); hoshi x lee luda (wsjn) ; hoshi x choi yujin (kep1er/clc)
🕸️ word count: 18.9k (WE GOT IT UNDER 20K LETS GOOOOOO!)
🕸️ rating: 18+. minors do not interact i beg.
🕸️ warnings: this definitely more of their dynamic/relationship than him being her ta… ; mentions of knife play (none involved), alcohol, pink whitney gets its own warning as does everclear, mentions of un/protected sex (dw it'll get freaky later), mentions of cum, loss of virginity talk, mentions of marijuana (stoner!hoshi be off the honeypacks!!), mentions of STD testing (GET TESTED YOU FREAKS!) [smut warnings: multiple scenes ; mostly hoshi using sex as an apology ; oral (f. receiving) ; unprotected sex (hoshi x reader only) ; face sitting ; hoshi is a hopeless romantic and loves missionary ; they fuck mostly in their respective homes (read: he eats her out in a closet)] i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!
🕸️ what to listen to: good kisser - usher ; magic stick - lil' kim ; lie - bts ; spider - hoshi ; home - seventeen.
🕸️ author's note: just an fyi, the smut is AWFUL and i'm not entirely happy with this🤩 but anyway, it’s finally here, the final installment of the seventeen ta collab!! special thanks to @camandemstudios for allowing me to be a part of this wonderful success, and i hope to be involved in more collabs in the future (also thank you so much for your patience, i know waiting for me to be able to post was infuriating.) enjoy stoner!hoshi…loser!hoshi? loverboy!hoshi…also somewhat bitchless!hoshi.
LAST YEAR – Sunday, October 23.
You were never opposed to a nice Halloween party. Lots of thematic drinks, stupid boys dressed as Ghostface trying to explore knife kinks, and girls going all out with their glitter make-up and tinsel in their hair for the optimal fairy costume.
You loved a good Halloween party, music blasting out of the speakers that were stolen from the AV Club by the softer version of the Beta Tau Omega brothers. Dancing with strangers in sweat-soaked facades, and waking up with smeared face paint all over your neck and shoulders from whatever disguised hook-up you'd taken home that night.
Last night's rager had to have been one for the books, because you have no idea how you ended up in this absolute mess of a bedroom – owned by none other than your close friend, Kwon Soonyoung. The same Kwon Soonyoung who also happens to TA the class you've put off taking for the last two years, and are set to start taking the upcoming spring semester.
The same Kwon Soonyoung that was related to the wife of the Dean, and the same Kwon Soonyoung that showed up everywhere stoned or ready to get stoned. The very same Kwon Soonyoung that made infused pre-rolls and edibles for nearly the entire campus…for free. Even you could see that was a horrible business call, and you were a Science major.
Soonyoung who helped people sneak kittens into their dorm rooms and make homes for them under lofted beds. Soonyoung, who taught a dance class and self-defense class back to back, so he was never free until after nine at night. Soonyoung who made hanging out seem like he was trying to get into your pants because he was just naturally flirtatious (and somehow, still absolutely bitchless.)
Soonyoung who you've kissed twice since meeting him two years ago, both times at Halloween parties hosted by his stupid fraternity. Soonyoung, who has had his hand up your skirt twice before someone interrupts you by asking if he has any weed at hand. He always does, and it's always in his car or his bedroom. He always goes, and a part of you, no matter how into it you may be, knows it's for the best.
He keeps his circle small, of friends that is. You were added to the mix sometime after your first Halloween party (and first kiss together) your freshman year, when he slammed into you in the middle of the economics hallway, breaking your laptop in the process. He'd felt so bad he took you to Best Buy that same night and shelled out two grand for a new one and even invited you out to lunch the next day.
He did not remember making out at all. To be fair, neither did you until the digital photos came back and he texted you a picture of the two of you kissing against the Beta Tau Omega insignia on the wall. You were so embarrassed you avoided him for a week after, but he quickly forced you out of your dorm for a movie night. The two of you became fast friends, bonding over silly little things and enjoying each other's company – but it didn't stop the rumors from flying that you were a freshman stealing a guy from the sophomores.
You remember that he adamantly denied any and every dating rumor flung your way, and even went as far as distancing himself from you for a bit – but when you tried to pull the same move he had earlier that year, he said maybe it was best for the two of you to remain friends from a distance. You didn't speak to him for the rest of the year, choosing to spend your time with friends your age and even dating a transfer student named Yuta Nakamoto, who was also in Soonyoung's year.
When word got around, Soonyoung was pissed – but didn't attempt to rekindle your friendship. He still followed you on Instagram, and still felt a bit of anger puddle in his stomach as he liked photo after photo of the two of you together, biting his tongue at the empty smile you held by his side.
This continued well into summer, and he saw the two of you take a trip to Jeju Island together, before breaking up the following week. Soonyoung heard from your friend, Nagyung, that he was transferring back and neither of you wanted to try long-distance.
The following school year, he watched as you got recruited by sorority after sorority – eventually joining his frat's sister sorority, Alpha Sigma Delta. You hardly had to rush, the girls actively pushing you to pledge and you were far too nice to say no.
You saw him again for the first time at the Halloween party planning, when you and your fellow pledges were tasked with helping the frat pledges in hauling in liquor. You weren't very happy about it, but Soonyoung whisked you away without a word from you, telling everyone that he needed your help with a certain task.
That task?
"Can we talk?"
And you did. You talked, and talked, and talked. He even left at one point to get drinks for the two of you, returning to you fishing through his bag of pre-rolls for the ones infused with lemon balm. He smiled, telling you they were in his car, and you rolled your eyes at it.
You kissed at that party, too. It went further this time – the two of you on Seungcheol's balcony. The idea had been to go up to the roof and get crossed, but it seems a rather tipsy Soonyoung had other ideas. You didn't mind it, in fact you encouraged it – you slipped his hand up your latex dress, you let him slip your panties down your legs.
"Hey, Hoshi! Do you have any pre-rolls?!"
Just as he'd started undoing his pants.
"Fuck, I'm sorry baby."
"It's fine."
You passed out in his bedroom that time, too tired to go back to the sorority house with your sisters. You got out of clean-up, and Soonyoung left you a kimbap roll and an electrolyte drink on his nightstand, with a note asking how you got there 'haha.'
It hadn't been fine. Again, neither of you remembered this happening until digitals were printed. And it was freshman year all over again – except this time, Soonyoung stuck around. Soonyoung defended you tooth and nail, and even dropped a few of his friends that bad-mouthed you. When you asked him about it, he shrugged, "Nothing wrong with kissing your friends every once in a while."
So, here you are. Again.
The third year in a row you and your stupid friend have made out, and somehow, you're in his bed. There's no other explanation as for why your underwear is across the room, hanging off his lamp and why his head is gently laying on your chest. There's literally no other explanation.
"Soonyoung." You rasp, patting his cheek. He doesn't stir, but pouts into your bare breast. "Soonyoung." You speak louder, shaking him slightly as he peels open one of his eyes.
"Yeah?"
It takes him a moment to realize that it's you, sprinkled with glitter from his eye look last night and practically doused in his saliva.
"Oh, fuck." He just furrows his brows, rolling off your chest with a groan. He sits up at the edge of the bed, surveying the room before realizing he's got no pants on. "Son of a bitch. Did we…Yup. Yup, it's right there."
His painted fingernails point at the discarded condom atop his dresser, flung hastily in a half-asleep attempt, most likely. You sigh, letting your head fall back on your pillow with a hmph. He does the same, his fingers only reaching up slightly to close the blinds with a jerk of the liftcord.
"You think it was good?" You ask with a small smile, and he snorts. "It was with you, I doubt it would've been bad."
Silence permeates the air again, before he sees your bare bottom half also covered in glitter. You have a tattoo on your hip that you didn't have when you first met. It's a stick-and-poke kitten. "Nice tattoo."
"Thanks, I got it on Jeju Island."
"When you and Yuta went?"
"Yup."
"Cool."
He sits up, peering down at you with tired eyes. "What'd you see in that guy, anyway?"
"Hm?"
"Yuta."
"Oh. You want the truth?"
It's like being nude in front of each other isn't a big deal. It's like having slept together after years of being in limbo means nothing. It's all so normal, the way you allow him to practically eye fuck you.
"I was sad you stopped being my friend."
He blinks at you, watching the way you carefully pick at a thread loose in his comforter. You pull it out, discarding it behind you with a soft smile. "Does that answer your question?"
"You fucked another guy because I stopped being your friend?" He asks incredulously, and you shrug. "Not just, but it was a large reason."
"You lost your virginity to him." His eyes are wide, and you shrug once more, nodding your head.
"Yup."
"Did he make you cum?"
"Soonyoung-"
"Did he?"
You sigh, patting his comforter. "Not the first couple of times, no. He got better at it, though. It was decent."
Nodding, he clears his throat.
"Do you think I-"
"Maybe. I don't know. I don't remember much, just the Pink Whitney Mingyu gave me."
"Mingyu does love his Pink Whitney."
You flip onto your back again, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. Tucking your hands behind your head, you speak again. "Do you think I went down on you?"
"There's lipstick on my tip."
"What color?"
"Uhh…wine red."
You wipe a finger across your bottom lip, the small amount of residue a bloody, Cabernet red.
"Hm. Checks out."
The air feels…comfortable.
"Wanna shower?"
"Yeah."
"Can I shower with you?"
"Yeah, Soonie."
The two of you stretch simultaneously, before rolling to the side of the bed and standing up. He grabs the discarded condom off the dresser, holding it like a used tissue and taking it to the bin. You dig through his dresser for a towel, and he fishes out something for you to wear.
"Boxers okay?"
"Hm, I prefer briefs."
"On me or on you?"
"Your underwear choices are your business."
He holds up a pair of Spiderman briefs. You bite back your laugh and nod silently, extending your hand for them.
He disappears into his bathroom, flickering lights on and turning the shower head on. "Hot?"
"Boiling."
"Got it."
The both of you get in, and you close your eyes as the water pelts your back. Soonyoung says nothing as he moves your hair off your shoulders and away from your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"You should've asked me." He mumbles, reaching for the shampoo in the caddy behind you. Peeling your eyes open, you look up at him with a confused stare. "Asked you for what?"
He shrugs, holding the shampoo bottle upside down over his hand and squirting some out. "I would've made you cum the first time."
You snort, shoving his chest lightly. "Yeah, well…you didn't. It's fine."
"This isn't weird to you?"
"What? Showering together?"
"After fucking, yeah."
"Could be worse."
"How?"
"I could be that girl you've been flirting with since last year, wondering when you're going to text her back."
"Who? Yujin?"
"Yeah."
"I'm not flirting with her, what made you think that?"
"Stolen glances, flirty touches, you give her pre-rolls all the time."
He rolls his eyes as he cards his fingers through your hair, his dull nails scrubbing your scalp gently. Your eyes flutter shut, and he huffs. "I give everyone pre-rolls."
"Because you're a horrible business magnate."
"No, because I'm nice."
You smile without opening your eyes, your hands reaching out to touch his chest. His body feels good under your fingertips, you realize. "Are you mad you don't remember any of it?"
"Furious." He mutters, gently tilting your head back to wash the soap out. You can't see the way he's looking at the sweet slope of your neck, just barely making out small nips of his teeth across your throat. Your necklace hangs nicely.
The rest of the shower remains silent, as he carefully washes you before himself. His attention to detail is insane, the way his fingers hold the washcloth taut so he can feel every inch of you. He has to commit this to memory.
After, you're drying your hair with a random t-shirt he gave you. He remembers you told him that towels can be too rough for your hair texture sometimes. It's only when you're brushing your teeth with a brand new toothbrush he pulled from his cabinets that he speaks.
"Let me change my bedsheets."
"Don't wanna lay in the sin of fucking your friend, do ya?"
The navy blue sheets are quickly replaced by ones with light grey ditsy floral print, and his comforter is shoved off and replaced by a few throw blankets. He watches as you change his pillowcases, only looking away when he hears his phone ping.
Msg From: Cheol
[9:32am] hosh
[9:32am] who is the girl in ur room and is she missing a pair of cat ears
"What was your costume last night?" He asks, and you snort. "I was a sexy witch."
He smiles to himself as he picks up his phone.
Msg To: Cheol
[9:33am] not missing a pair of cat ears
[9:34am] and it's y/n
Your head snaps up when you hear a pair of feet thundering up the stairs, followed by silence. You give him an odd look, only to hear excited giggles down the hall and the pitter-patter of two adult men coming towards Soonyoung's room. You cross your arms as you hear the door creak open, an expectant look on your face as Jeonghan and Seungcheol's noses appear through the crack.
"Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Jeonghan remarks sweetly, and you just roll your eyes.
"He wasn't bluffing." He whispers to Seungcheol, receiving an annoyed huff from Soonyoung. "If you're done intruding on my personal business, I'd appreciate it if you left. The pledges still need to clean up last night's mess."
Jeonghan gives you a wry look. "Can I say something and you don't get upset?"
"If it's about sex, I will punch you in that pretty face of yours." You say pointedly, fluffing the pillow in your hand before throwing it onto his bed. Jeonghan purses his lips, nodding before sliding out from under Seungcheol. He nods his head, a satisfied look on his face. "Have a good…don't fuck too loud, okay?"
Soonyoung barely misses Seungcheol's face with the charger he throws across the room, his giggle being heard in the hallway as he barrels down the stairs.
"Idiots." He huffs, running a hand through his damp hair as you flop onto the bed. "You don't mind if I stay here a bit? My head's killing me."
He lays down next to you, a sigh escaping his lips.
"You okay, Soonie?"
Turning only his head, he scans your face. Tired eyes lined with thick lashes, plump lips covered by the Aquaphor in his bathroom. Slightly unkempt brows and your shoulder tattoo peeking out from the collar of his shirt on your frame.
"Kitty?"
You grimace at the pet name, one he christened you with when the two of you met. He'd been dressed up as a cowboy, and dancing with a skeleton that was stolen from the comparative anatomy students (with the help of Junhui, of course.) He also had a lit joint between his fingers, one that sprinkled ash over your newly healed shoulder tattoo and made you yelp in pain.
"Shit, I'm sorry, kitty." He quickly put it out in a nearby ashtray, dusting your shoulder of any ash residue. "It's fine, it's fine. Just…can I get a hit?"
"Yeah?"
He sits up, leaning against his bed frame before looking down at you.
"Would it be weird if I asked to try again?"
You glance up at him, an amused smile playing on your lips. "Try what again, exactly?"
He clears his throat, a beet red blush coating his cheeks. "You said Yuta didn't make you cum. And we don't know if I made you cum. So…can I have a redemption round?"
You've sat up at this point, a small laugh falling from your lips as you push your hair back, "You want to fuck me?"
"I can just go down on you, if, uh…if that's what you'd prefer." He stutters, mentally cursing himself. You glance at him, eyes scanning his face. "And we're still friends after this? You won't dump me?"
"I won't. I promise. Cross my heart, kitty." He holds his pinky finger out, insinuating you link yours. Sighing, you do just that. "Fine. Hop to, I want breakfast."
He moves to kiss you, but you give him yet another amused look. "What are you doing, Soonie?"
"...Kissing you?" He gives you a confused look, and you scoff out a laugh. "You said nothing about kissing, Kwon."
He gapes at you, "How am I supposed to connect our auras if we don't kiss? I can't get hard if I don't get kissed, you know. I can't properly engage with… her, if you don't let me kiss you." He sits back on his haunches, explaining each point to you. You bite back your laughter, nodding along.
"Sculptors start from scratch, Soonyoung. I am art, awaiting your expert touch." You shrug as he finishes his spiel, and he furrows his brows. "Fine."
Sinking down to his stomach in front of you, ringed fingers palming at your thighs. You sigh, sucking your teeth as he noses at your skin, placing kisses on your stomach.
You scoot back slightly, resting your back against his headboard. He looks up at you as you roll your eyes, beckoning him forward with your hand as you shimmy out of the stupid Spiderman briefs. "Make it fast."
"Won't take me that long, anyway." He mumbles, pushing his hair out of his face before placing a chaste kiss on your exposed slit. "How do you like it? Just tongue? Messy?"
"Whatever you want, though I'm not super into fingering at the same time." You shrug, your own carding through his shaggy locks and holding him in place. He smirks against your skin, "Don't need them."
His tongue swirls carefully around your clit, the motion far too practiced to be out of the ordinary for him. He leans into your soft gasp, the gentle buck of your hips enough to help him bury his face into your wet heat. "Spit on it." You whisper, and he does just as you ask.
The taste is tart and heady, spreading around his tongue and chin as he expertly sucks on your swollen bundle of nerves. His eyes are closed as he sloppily collects your arousal, your whines growing frustrated as he holds your hips down. "F-Faster, Soonie."
He rolls his eyes, annoyed at your inability to relax as he obnoxiously moans against you, the vibrations making you squirm. "You're so mean." You pout, feeling him smile into you. He shrugs, closing his eyes before returning to his ministrations.
He feels you shift, peeling open an eye to see your hand under your shirt, rolling your nipple through your fingers with your lip tucked between your teeth. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, using your ankle to pull you down to his level. Your eyes shoot open the moment his hands are on the hem of your (his) shirt, tugging it over your head. You're pliant, agreeing with whatever he wants to do when you feel him grab your face gently, "Can I kiss you?"
You can't bite back your smile, making him roll his eyes as he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You feel your stomach buzz a bit, feeling his half-hard cock through his boxers pressed against you. You cant your hips up softly, earning a hiss as he nips at your bottom lip.
"Thought you said you can't get hard without kissing, Soonie. Tsk, tsk." You mock him, before your fingers reach for the waistband of his boxers, snapping the elastic against his skin.
"Take them off."
He snaps his head up to look at you, eyes wide as your hand dips below the waistband, gently wrapping around his length. He sighs at your touch, before pushing the underwear down his legs with his free hand. He reaches for the nightstand, digging out the box of condoms – empty.
"Fuck." He mutters, and you turn to see the empty box being flicked across the room. "Are you clean?" You ask with a click of your tongue, and he reaches in the same drawer and pulls out a folded piece of paper, handing it to you with a blush across his cheeks.
"A week ago." He whispers, and you shrug, tossing the results – all of which were negative – to the floor and smiling up at him. "Well, go on. You have a task to complete, Kwon."
"Are you sure?" He's talking to himself, dragging the tip of his cock through your wet folds, a soft whine from your lips as he circles your clit with his thumb. "Hurry up before I change my mind and tell everyone you can't make a girl cum."
Your threat is empty, he knows – but you see the way he rolls his eyes, easing the head of his cock into your aching hole. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, your fingernails digging into his back as he slowly bottoms out.
"Fuck." He mutters into your shoulder, before sinking his teeth into your skin and giving a slow thrust. A choked moan from your lips is his reward, as he sets a slow pace and drags his teeth across your chest. Your nails drag down his back gently as his tongue swirls around your nipple, making you whimper.
"Soonie.." Your whine is cut off by his hand across your mouth. "Don't, I'll cum." He admits against your chest, making you snort slightly. Your hand wraps around his wrist, pulling it off your mouth as you lean up to capture his lips in yours. It's sloppy but you don't care, feeling him roll his hips into yours slowly as your tongue slips into his mouth.
His whine into your mouth is nothing if not pitiful (read: hot.) Your laugh slips out as he readjusts his hold on you, folding your legs to your chest and fucking into you deeper. The new angle makes you let out a choked moan, his lips dragging along your jawline as he bullies his cock into you.
It's almost like you can feel pride seeping through his pores as you whine into his skin, feeling his lips curl into a smile against your shoulder as he bites down softly. You're sure he's determined to ruin you for anyone else, his hand slipping between the two of you to toy with your clit.
The mix of sounds in his bedroom is obscene, but nothing is more embarrassing than the two of you jumping simultaneously when someone bangs on his door. Your hand flies over your mouth as they shout for you two to keep it down, making Soonyoung laugh, the tips of his ears turning pink as you clench around him. Your tummy starts to fill with warmth, the band threatening to snap as he peels your hand off your mouth for a searing kiss.
It's enough for the two of you to whimper, your fingers moving to curl into his hair, feeling the white-hot heat of your orgasm coursing through your body. He groans into your lips, and you can feel him fighting himself as he pulls out, his cum painting the stupid kitty tattoo on your hip.
The two of you are silent as you regain your composure, the room filled with soft pants as you brush your hair off your face. He clears his throat, and you almost instinctively roll your eyes as his question breaks the tension.
"On a scale of one to ten–"
"I am not rating your stroke game, this is not RateMyDick.com."
His face buries into your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he scoffs out a laugh. Your fingernails trail lightly along his neck, his lips pressing soft kisses to your shoulders before he pushes off you.
"Pancakes?" He tilts his head, making you snort. "Are you paying?"
"Fuck no, we can make Cheol buy." He scoffs, and you laugh fully this time. "Do you think Cheol feels like buying me the greasiest patty melt he can find?"
"Whatever you want, kitty." He kisses the tip of your nose, making you scrunch it while pushing his head away. "That tickles, stop. Now get off me, I feel the need to spend Cheol's trustfund on food that will knock me out."
He just smiles as he lifts himself off you, sliding off the bed in the direction of his bathroom. You can't help but feel a bit of anxiety pool in your lower belly, hearing the faucet running slowly before he reappears. You quickly smile, "You okay?"
"Are you?" He echoes, his hand reaches for your thigh as he wipes you down gently with a damp washcloth. "Yeah, m'fine."
He doesn't look convinced, giving you a raise of his brows as he tosses the washcloth to the side, offering his hand to help you sit up. When you do, he grabs the shirt you'd been wearing and carefully pulls it over your head – and if he feels the willful stare of your eyes on him, he says nothing about it.
"Are you having regrets?" He murmurs, reaching for the underwear he let you borrow. You sigh inwardly, shaking your head. "No. Just…it's silly."
"It's not silly, whatever it is you're feeling. We're friends, kitty. You can tell me." He shrugs, helping you up off the bed and leading you to the bathroom. "You're not gonna watch me pee, are you?" You tease, and he snorts.
"Do you want me to?"
"Get out."
He does. He shuts the door behind him, leaving the briefs on the sink. You sigh quietly, willing the negative thoughts away. You don't regret it, no – but it feels like your slight game of cat-and-mouse has ended. He's caught you, sunk his teeth into you and now you're dead.
You reach for the briefs, pulling them over your ankles and up to your knees while you sit. You hear him rustling around, before hearing the door to his room open and shut. A wave of sadness flows over you, and you wonder if he really meant it. That he wouldn't leave this time – he hadn't last year, after he took your underwear off in Seungcheol's room (and stuffed the pair of pink panties in his pocket – something you never heard the end of when Jeonghan found out they were yours.)
Sighing once more, you finish your business, tossing the toilet paper in the can and amp yourself up as you wash your hands. "No big deal, Y/N. Friends fuck all the time. Right?"
You hear the door to his room open again, and you turn the water off, shaking the excess water off your hands as you open the bathroom door. He glances up at you, holding a tray with a pitcher of water and electrolyte packets.
"You like watermelon, right? It's the only flavor we have left." He says, and you nod quietly. "Yeah, that's fine."
Flopping back onto his bed, you cover your bottom half with one of the throw blankets as he portions out the electrolytes. You reach over and open his nightstand drawer, fishing through for his Advil.
"Bottoms up." He hands you your glass, and you pop open the cap. "Yum, ibuprofen electrolyte cocktail." You mutter, shoving two in his hand before popping your own in your mouth.
The two of you clink glasses before chugging, mirroring each other's grimaces as you finish the liquid. He scrunches his nose, sliding the glass on the nightstand before laying back and moving like a worm to slide in next to you.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, grabbing his phone from in between the blankets and opening the Doordash app. You don't respond, opting to pull the blanket a little higher as you rest your head on his shoulder. He scrolls through mindlessly, before finding your favorite breakfast spot. The two of you found it during the summer, when neither of you went home and decided to take summer classes. You wound up taking Seungcheol's room while he went home with his girlfriend.
You don't like the wave of sadness you feel suddenly.
He's your friend. One could even say he's one of your best friends. What if this was a mistake?
You feel tears prick at your eyes.
"Can you hold me?" You murmur, and he doesn't even stop to think as he shuts his phone off and pulls you into him, his hand curling into the nape of your neck. His fingernails are lightly scratching at your scalp as he wraps himself around you, allowing you to snuggle into his chest. "I'm scared, Hosh."
You can't hold back the sniffle at that, but you can feel him tuck you further into his embrace. "I won't leave. I promise, I promise you I won't leave." He whispers, and you can hear the waver in his voice. He tries to mask it, pressing soft kisses to your hairline.
"What if this ruins our friendship?" You ask thickly, and you can feel him shake his head above you. "It won't. I won't let it. We can't let it."
He pulls back, his thumb coming to wipe under your eyes carefully. "I don't think I ever told you what I did when we stopped talking that year."
"No," You laugh softly, reaching up to wipe his own face. "You didn't."
"I slept with like six people that year." He scrunches his nose, before his eyes go wide. "No, five and a half."
"Half?" You question, and he nods. "Does it count? Like, if she went down on me but then her roommate walked in on us and she was too embarrassed to keep going?"
"I think so?"
"Okay, so six."
"You're a slut."
"Sue me, I was filling a void." He scoffs, and you just shake your head at him. "You could've just talked to me."
If he’s aware of your hypocrisy, he says nothing.
"I am a flawed man, kitty. I have too much pride to admit my mistakes." He sighs, pushing your hair out of your face. "Yet here we are." You say pointedly, making him roll his eyes.
"Anyway, I don't regret this…us." He gestures between the two of you, before clearing his throat. "But, we don't have to speak about it, like, ever again if you do. It'll be like it never happened."
Sighing, you roll onto your back, still pressed tightly against his torso. "That never works. I mean, Cheol and Hannie know, now, too." You scrunch your nose a bit at the idea of your friends' relentless teasing awaiting, but he shrugs.
"Cheol owes me for that time I helped him replace his bed frame after Sowon broke it. I still can't believe they're dating, but it makes their chaos like, ten times worse." He groans, and you snicker. "Are we sure it wasn't Seungcheol who broke it? Last I heard, he's a freak."
"He probably did, he had a bit of bruising around his wrists and there were cuffs attached to the bedposts." He says pointedly, before the two of you glance at each other quickly.
"No."
He tongues his cheek to stop himself from smiling. "I didn't say anything."
"You're thinking about it, Soonyoung. Stop it."
"You literally let me cum on you."
You grimace up at him, and he snorts. “Sorry.”
“Just order the food, my stomach is about to start eating itself.” You roll your eyes, smacking him when you both feel his phone buzz. He grabs it, and you once more feel your stomach sink.
Msg From: choi yujin
[10:49am] hey hoshi…r u busy? can i come over?
“Yikes.” He mutters, and you push the covers off. “I can go—”
“Shut up. Lay down.” He yanks your arm, making you fall back onto the pillows as he messages her back with one hand.
Msg From: choi yujin
[10:50am] i am yeah
[10:51am] let’s set a date to talk
“What if she wants to dump you?” You ponder aloud, watching as he reopens the Doordash app and adds your food to the cart. He shrugs, selecting an order of french toast. “Then she dumps me. I should care, right?”
You just snort, making him smile inwardly as he wraps his arm around you.
The two of you let your eyes eat, ordering little things and ignoring messages from Yujin. You feel bad, really, because Yujin is a sweet girl and your friend is a bit of an airhead at times.
“I’ll go get it when it’s here.” He yawns, stretching slightly and rebounding to wrap himself around you. “Or, we can bribe Mingyu with that order of eggs benedict we did not need to order.”
“Ha, true.” He nods, shooting a text to the man before tossing his phone behind him. “And kitty?”
“Yes, Soonie?”
“Thank you for trusting me.”
You glance down at him, noting the way his eyes are slightly heavy. You hold in your sigh — carding your fingers through blond locks. “Any time, Soonie.”
PRESENT DAY — November 4th.
Unfortunately (for your achey, breaky heart) — Soonyoung took ‘any time’ literally.
You’d gone home later that afternoon, reluctantly prying yourself from Soonyoung’s arms and wiping a bit of syrup from his french toast off your lip. Not at all put there from him kissing you.
No way.
The two of you had fallen into a bit of a lockstep — he’d decided to add another semester to his schedule, admitting he felt overwhelmed by his classes. You were just happy you’d have your friend around for a bit longer, and most of the other frat brothers felt the same.
However, with great sacrifice comes great responsibility — Soonyoung had a lot of free time, and you were only taking four classes a semester as it was. He would come over to your room at the sorority house, bring you dinner and help you study, and somehow the two of you would end up on your bed with his tongue between your legs. Or with his dick in your throat. Or, a fancier third option — turning the stereo on and fucking like rabbits.
Your housemates learned to hate Novacane by Frank Ocean.
But without fail, this happened at least once a week. Neither of you mentioned it after, with him leaving the next morning with a chaste kiss to your lips and a murmured have a good day, kitty.
Your sorority sisters grew curious, and you admitted to them that the two of you were just fucking around. When word of this got around — because humans love to gossip — Soonyoung came over and the two of you sat down to discuss the dynamics of your…situationship.
And nothing changed.
The two of you admitted to each other that it was odd to behave like this. You were the first to confess that it helped you get your mind off things when you were stressed, to which he agreed. It ended with the two of you agreeing to resort to these meetups once or twice a week — and with him fucking his dick into you so slowly, you cried.
Granted, these meetups did not stop over the summer. Neither of you went home, once more opting to stay on campus for summer courses. This time, though — most of the brothers had gone home, and the two of you could not keep your hands off each other. You reminded yourself to still have to apologize to Chan for fucking in his room.
Not that Soonyoung didn’t already take the brunt of Chan’s wrath, but it was beyond you now.
This being said, your tradition of fucking around on Halloween had been upheld this year — but to the point where when you arrived, Mingyu did not offer you his bottle of Pink Whitney because Soonyoung had gotten you your own. You’d laughed, and Mingyu pouted as the two of you drank together.
Soonyoung found you a little after midnight, and you were barely tipsy when he whispered in your ear, asking if you wanted to go up to the roof. You nodded, putting your cowgirl hat on a rather mopey Mingyu — linking your pinkies with Soonyoung’s as he pulled you upstairs.
The two of you hadn’t seen each other much that week, because you had midterms. He offered you a hit of his joint before grabbing your jaw gently and using it as leverage to kiss you.
That night felt different — he took a bit longer to take your clothes off, he kissed you all over. Not that he didn’t normally do that, but it seemed as though he was trying to absorb you fully. You blamed it on the weed, but let him worship you on the roof of his frat house.
You’d been on top for most of it — he doesn’t usually prefer it that way, Soonyoung was a missionary man through and through. You had noticed his glassy eyes as he ran his hands all over your body, and you asked him twice if he was okay. He nodded, kissing you both times before flipping you onto your back. He’d carried you back down to his room after you finished, locking his door behind him and running a shower for the two of you.
It gave you déjà vu.
That was a week ago. You hadn’t seen Soonyoung since, but a part of you didn’t mind the space. You’d felt a bit more that night, but you just blamed it on the Pink Whitney.
“Hey, pretty.” You look up, seeing Minghao walking towards you with a bag in his hand. The two of you had this study session in the back corner of the library every few days, but neither of you cared to admit that it was just an excuse to gossip together and watch America’s Next Top Model.
“Hey, Hao. How’re you?” You ask coolly, before making a show of opening your laptop and opening Hulu, pressing on ANTM and lowering the volume to mute. He snorts, opening the bag and sliding your portion on the table. “I’m good, pretty. However, I do have some intel from a little bird.”
He looks at you pointedly, and you scoff as you open your food. Inhaling deeply, you sigh before stabbing your fork into the pasta. You shrug, “Okay. What’s your intel?”
“That you and Hoshi fucked on the roof, and there’s photos of you making out.” He bites into a breadstick, and you roll your eyes. “There have been photos of us making out every year. This is nothing new.”
“I’m just saying. None of the photos in years past have had his hands under your shirt so shamelessly.” He shrugs, and you furrow your brow. “Hands under my shirt??”
You had worn a latex halter top. You’d never taken it off, and he’d only moved it aside when the two of you were on the roof to get a full view. “Yeah, you were a sexy cop, right? It’s all over the stupid underground site.”
You glance at him, wiping cream sauce off your lip. “I was a cowgirl, Minghao. I even put my hat on Mingyu.”
His eyes are wide as he chews, before his brows furrow and he gestures at the laptop.
You pause the muted show, shoving your fork into your plate before typing in the website. BetaTOU.com had been a domain purchased by the frat president from twelve years ago so they could share photos without being bitched at by the university. It was also a forum for complaints and suggestions. Everything was neatly kept and tagged with dates to stay organized, and if you wanted any photos taken down they were removed within the hour.
You scroll carefully, eyeing every photo of the frat brothers posted from last week. Mingyu wearing your hat is amongst the first few, and a back shot of you and Soonyoung with your pinkies linked walking up the stairs is right after it. You know it’s you, you can see the bracelet he gave you for your birthday dangling on your wrist.
You keep scrolling — Minghao doing a keg stand, Chan and Seokmin playing beer pong (and Chan getting Iced by Jihoon), and Vernon making out with two girls at once. Slut.
You begin to nibble on your fingernails as you scroll further, finally landing on a photo of Soonyoung and Yujin making out in front of one of the bathrooms at the Beta Tau house. You scoff out a laugh, her hat on his head and his hands, yup, under her shirt.
“Sexy cop, meet a big, fat liar.” You scowl, closing the laptop and jerking back in your chair, pulling your knees up to balance your takeout plate on. Minghao peers at you, watching as you angrily shovel pasta into your mouth. “Slow down, pretty. You’ll choke and I don’t know first aid.”
Shaking your head, “We literally fucked that night, Hao. That had to have happened before, because I literally showered and spent the night in his room.”
If he notes the hurt in your voice, he doesn’t mention it. He sighs instead, shaking his head before his hand finds your limp one in your lap. “Are you guys exclusive?”
“No.” You answer quickly, trying to shrug it off as he squeezes your hand lightly. “Don’t do that, obviously you have feelings for him, Y/N.”
“I do not.” You refute. “And even if I did, there are too many negative factors to being in a relationship with him.”
“Like what?” Minghao rolls his eyes, making you scoff.
“Like the fact that he hasn’t spoken to me all week? Like the fact that he’s a whore?” You say all of this like it’s common knowledge, and Minghao gives you an amused look.
“Not as much as Vernon.”
“Not relevant, Hao.”
Minghao shrugs, sitting back as he tears another piece of his breadstick off. You pout, letting go of his hand the moment you hear your phone buzz on the table. Reaching for it, you hand it to Minghao without a second glance.
“It’s Hoshi.”
“Read it and let me know if I should answer.”
Msg From: Soonyoung 🐯🩷
[4:32pm] kitty
[4:34pm] please don’t be upset
[4:35pm] can we talk? i can swing by the house tonight?
You roll your eyes, hating the way your nose burns as tears gather in your eyes.
Okay. You weren’t dumb.
You knew you’d catch feelings eventually. It was inevitable — Soonyoung was a good fuck, of course, but…something was different. He was sweet, he was doting and attentive. He soon learned your favorite flavor of electrolytes were never ones the frat kept in stock because Mingyu finished them all, so he bought you your own stash for his bedroom. He invited you to the dance class he taught, urging you to go and watch him dance to Fergalicious with the older women who lived in your college town.
Grimacing at your inner monologue, you reach for your phone from Minghao.
Msg To: Soonyoung 🐯🩷
[4:38pm] why would i be upset
[4:39pm] and no, i’ve got things i need to do tonight. sorry.
“The guy is definitely gonna agonize over this tonight.” Minghao mentions, making a smoking motion with his fingers. It makes you crack a smile, and you turn your phone on silent before opening the laptop again, switching back to your show and pressing play.
The two of you avoid your Advanced Calculus work on the table, watching as students file in and out of the library — most of them eyeing your plates of takeout before finding a seat.
You can’t help but think about the photo of Soonyoung and Yujin. You’d never had anything against Yujin, and you never would — it made no sense to resent her when Soonyoung is the one who owed you loyalty.
Not that he actually did, anyway — the two of you were not exclusive. You’d been the one to bring it up. He simply set that in place, sending you his STD panel results every few weeks.
You didn’t have to do the same. You didn’t fuck anyone but him.
Minghao walks you home, the two of you filling the air with chatter of missing Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua. The three had graduated, but had come to the Beta Tau Halloween party to visit. All in tow with their girlfriends, of which Joshua’s was still a student at the University and a part of your sorority — Sana Minatozaki.
“Can we do Thai next week? I know your birthday is on Thursday, and I’m sure you don’t wanna spend it with me.” You snort as you reach the front of the house, seeing Momo and Yerin sitting on the steps with ice cream in their hands. They wave at Minghao, who waves back.
“Nonsense, pretty. It’s a Thursday and I’m tired of parties.” He yawns, stretching slightly. You snicker, giving him a one-armed hug as you bid your goodbye. He doesn’t leave as you trek up the stairs, greeting your sorority sisters as you yank open the front door.
Sighing, you let a bit of emotion take over as a few tears trickle down your face. You jog up the stairs, slipping your sweater off and hanging it on the coat rack by the handrail on the third floor. You wipe at your face, annoyed at the sinking feeling of your heart as you toe your shoes off, shoving them on the shelf by the coat rack.
“Shower. That’s what I need.” You murmur, heading down the hallway to your room. Your door is slightly ajar, but you figure one of your sisters must’ve gone in to borrow something. You get closer, flinging the door open when you reach it and seeing Soonyoung sitting at the foot of your bed with a bag in his hands.
You blink at him, noting the redness in his ears as he takes you in. Neither of you speak, and he watches as you slide your bag into your desk chair, unpacking your belongings onto your desk where they usually go. He stares as you take a sip from your water bottle, before leaning against your desk, arms crossed.
“I can explain.” He starts, and you tongue your cheek. “Explain what? Maybe why you’re in my bedroom? I did say I was busy, Soonyoung.”
“Don’t do that, don’t be mad.” He whines at the sound of his name, and you furrow your brows. “I’m not mad, dude. What are you on?”
“It was a mistake, okay? I was looking for you and she—” You cut him off with a hand in the air, the words you know he hates to hear slipping from your lips.
“We’re not exclusive, Soonyoung. You can kiss whoever you want, you can fuck whoever you want. As long as you keep getting tested and it comes back clean, I don’t care.” You lie through your teeth, and he stands, putting the bag on your desk. You see his hands clench slightly around nothing as they reach his sides.
“I’m still sorry.” He murmurs, and you roll your eyes. Shaking your head, you begin to slip your shirt over your head. “I’m gonna shower. Feel free to stay, or go. I don’t care.”
“Okay.” He flops back on your bed, and you walk into your bathroom silently. Turning the water on, you strip and step inside, basking in the heat of the steam.
What were the two of you really doing? He was going to be the teacher’s assistant in your Zoology class next semester. You couldn’t really risk people thinking you were fucking him for your grades — it would put both of you at risk.
Professor Kwon was also a notoriously absent teacher, with her TAs from the past saying she was rarely in class. However, complaints resulted in simply receiving a large sum of money from her at the end of the year — and you found out through Soonyoung that Professor Kwon was married to the Dean.
And how does Soonyoung know that?
Professor Kwon is his aunt. She trusted that Soonyoung would be able to take over the class because he wasn’t particularly squeamish, and she knew all about his bad habit of sneaking stray kittens into dorm rooms. And his bad habit of being high as fuck — not that she was any better, though her vice was vacations, not weed.
He was smart, Soonyoung. You knew he was — his transcript was full of advanced math and science classes, and you saw one B in the extensive packet. Yes, a packet.
He took Zoology last year, even if it wasn’t part of his major. When you think of it, you don’t even really know what his major is — he just does whatever for the sake of it. It’s like he’s only really here to be entertained — and you don’t blame him.
Your passion for animals is also something that brought you and Soonyoung together. While he cared about the ones in the more vegetative biodomes — savannahs, tropical rainforests…the like. You, on the other hand, were one with the water — you loved fish, cephalopods, crustaceans. You had a small angelfish tattoo on your ankle, one Soonyoung constantly kissed if you were in missionary.
The two of you bonded over documentaries, even if the night ended with the two of you fooling around. You remember the night you watched Aliens of The Deep — you tied him to your radiator because he wouldn’t stop grinding his dick against your ass. You fucked him after, sure, but James Cameron deserved to have his documentary cherished.
Wringing your hair out of excess water, you step out of the shower, grabbing your towel off the rack and wrapping it around yourself. Opening the door, you see Soonyoung lying on your bed with his eyes closed, earphones plugged into his phone. As you lean closer, you hear a song reminiscent of Fergie’s Big Girls Don’t Cry.
Snorting, you nudge his leg with your foot, making him peel his eyes open. He pulls out one of the earphones, “Yes?”
“What are you doing? Why are you listening to Fergie?” You ask, moving past him to rummage your dresser for underwear. He sighs, “Because I feel bad.”
“Soonyoung, you kissed Yujin. It’s not the end of the world.” You say pointedly, feeling him get up and crowd your space. You feel his lips press to your damp shoulder, “You say that, but I feel like I betrayed you or something.”
Scoffing, you turn, tucking the corner of your towel under your armpit. “You fuck plenty of other girls. Why is kissing Yujin any different?”
“I only kiss you.” He says, making you roll your eyes. “I’m supposed to believe you?”
“Yes. I only kiss you when we fuck. I only kiss you in general. I don’t kiss the other girls, not that there have been many since this started.” He states matter-of-factly, and you struggle not to roll your eyes again. “You send me your STD results every few weeks, Soonyoung. That means there are other girls.”
“There hasn’t been for a few months. I just get tested regularly because it’s a habit. And they give me free condoms and lube so I save money.” He shrugs, making you scoff out a laugh.
“Soonyoung—”
“Stop, I don’t like it when you call me that.”
You eye him, “That’s your name.”
He shakes his head, “Not to you, it’s not. You only call me that when you’re mad.” His fingers push your hair off your face, and it takes all your willpower not to lean into his touch. He notices your internal struggle, curling his fingers around the shell of your ear, playing with your piercings carefully.
“I don’t want you to see other people.” He blurts, making your eyes go wide before you furrow your brows. Crossing your arms across your chest, you frown. “You see other people.”
“Then punish me for it. I’ll even let you tie me to the radiator again.” He’s flushing beet red, his hand now toying with a loose thread on your towel. It’s oddly reminiscent of your first (or…second) time together. “I’ll even leave you alone for a few weeks, if you want. I won’t fuck anyone else, either.”
You feel a bit taken aback at his offers, knowing that Soonyoung wouldn’t bring any of it up if he didn’t truly feel as though he’d wronged you. “Soonyoung, I really mean it. I’m not upset.”
You’re lying, but you also know his form of apologizing is just way too sincere. You can’t, in good faith, let him simmer in the guilt any longer. Probably why he didn’t speak to you for a week.
He doesn’t reply, opting to glance at the corner of your towel. He reaches for it, his eyes meeting yours as if asking for permission. You blink in response, untucking the towel on your own accord. He hesitates as his knuckles brush the skin of your hips, making you shiver. The towel drops as he leans in to kiss you, and you notice you don’t mind the slightly chapped lips.
He kisses you deeply, like he wants you to know his innermost feelings. His arm circles around your waist, pulling you flush to him as his other hand holds your face gingerly. “I’m sorry, kitty.” He murmurs against your lips, not bothering to allow you to respond as he reconnects your lips, walking backwards towards your bed.
His knees hit the edge of the bed, and he sits, pulling you onto his lap. The soft material of his sweatpants tented up around his cock, brushing against your center as you lean the two of you back, his back hitting your comforter. He maneuvers the two of you fully onto the bed, his head resting against your pillows as you lick into his mouth. His fingers circle your upper thighs, urging you to lift yourself up.
“What’s wrong?” You scan his eyes, feeling him push you further, your hands now on either side of his head. “I wanna show you how sorry I am. Sit on my face, suffocate me.”
You hadn’t done this yet. He’d asked in sessions past, but you’d been a bit hesitant. “What about you, though? I don’t—”
“Don’t worry about me.” He kisses you softly again, fingers tapping the backs of your thighs to urge you higher. “Are you sure?”
“If I die, I die happy.” He shrugs, and you sigh as you inch up, before grabbing your headboard for moral support. You sink down slowly, feeling his nose bump your clit slightly. You hover for a moment, hearing him sigh before pulling you down the rest of the way.
His tongue is flat against your pussy, making you shiver and clench around nothing. He licks at you with precision, gathering your arousal before wrapping his lips around your clit with a soft suck. You bite back a whine, your hips grinding against his face involuntarily. He moans against you, digging his dull nails into your hips.
You continue rocking against him, soft moans from your lips as he eagerly takes whatever you give him. Your fingers card through his hair, tugging gently as you feel the heat start to pool in your belly. His hand wanders up, skilled fingers rolling your nipple between them at the same pace of your clit being swirled by his tongue.
“Soonie—” You whimper, canting your hips a little faster as he runs his hands all over your body, groaning against your pussy. Your thighs clench around his head as you cum, feeling slightly overstimulated as his tongue fucks into you slowly. You try to get up, but your shaky legs betray you as Soonyoung pulls you back down, the slurping sound from his mouth obscene as you twitch in his hold. “S’too much…”
Pushing his head back, you pry yourself out of his hold, shakily settling yourself next to him. You take a glance at him, his eyes closed as the back of his hand wipes his mouth. “Am I forgiven?”
“You were never in trouble, Soonie.” You roll your eyes, flopping your head against his shoulder. He scoffs, “You’re my best friend. I’m pretty sure I can tell when you’re upset with me.”
Hearing you huff, he knows he’s right. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You don’t need to finish?” You murmur, eyeing the strain of his cock against his sweatpants.
He shakes his head, “I don’t deserve it right now. I hurt you, and that was shitty of me.”
You sigh. “So what does this mean?”
“It means I want to be exclusive. You’re the only girl I hang out with, anyway.” He shrugs, a pained look on his face as adjusts himself in his pants. You feel some guilt settle in your stomach at this, and you shake your head. “I don’t think we should keep doing this, actually.”
He glances down at you, before you sit up and slide off your bed. You move back to your dresser, digging out random clothes and pulling them on as he stares.
“What?”
“I want to focus on school.” You wince as the sentence slips past your lips. It wasn’t a lie, you did want to — but it was also because he’d be your TA next semester. Better to cut the cord now than continue to put yourselves at risk of being found out.
“So you’re…what? Are we still friends?”
You look over at him, an obviously hurt expression on his face as he brings his knees to his chest. “Of course we’re still friends, Soonie.”
He nods, tonguing his cheek as he stands up. “Sure thing. I’m sorry if my expectations made you uncomfortable.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes as he grabs his shoes at the door, and you blink at him.
“You’re not…You’re leaving?” You gape, and he gives you a quizzical look. “What, did you want to cuddle?”
It doesn’t have any malice behind it. His tone is level, it’s friendly. But you can’t help and feel a bit small at his words. He gives you a curt nod. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”
And he closes the door behind him. You scoff out a breath, feeling a tear spill down your cheek as you run your hands through your hair. It’s still damp at the roots, and you just shake your head to yourself as you remember the bag he set on your desk.
You click your tongue at it, before ripping it open. It’s a Jellycat octopus in blue and a handmade card. It has doodles of fish all over it in colored pencil, and an angelfish holding a badly drawn tiger in the corner. You open it to see his handwriting messily scrawled across the cardstock.
Hi, Kitty.
I assume by this point you’ve seen the photos on BTOU, and I’m sorry that I’ve been avoiding you all week. I saw them on Wednesday morning right when I was going to leave to ask if you wanted to get breakfast with me, so I made the dumbass decision to just ghost entirely. It was an asshole move and I’m sorry.
I did want to talk to you, though. And it’s totally fine if you don’t agree, I just figured I’d give it a shot?
The two of us are…relatively close. I mean, I can’t think of anyone I trust more than you…you’ve seen me in various stages of my life. Uhm, I’m not ready for a relationship but I’m also unsure if we’re on the same page about that, so I wanted to ask if we could, for the rest of the year, make this an exclusive…situation? I don’t see other people and neither do you?
I guess that’s like dating. We can talk about it more in person, if you want. Maybe we can come to a consensus and I don’t know. But you get me, right? You always get me.
Anyway. I’m sorry. And I hope you’ll accept this card and the little octopus guy as a token of my sincere appreciation for you. I named him Inky Minaj, but feel free to change it.
Yours (hopefully),
Hoshi ♡🐯
You don’t realize you’re crying until you see a tear drop right onto his doodle of a tiger next to his name. The octopus stares back at you, and you sniffle as you put it on your bed.
This is for the best. It has to be. Kwon Soonyoung cannot like you and you cannot like him.
January 13th.
“Hello, everyone! I am Professor Kwon, and this is Zoology!”
The dreaded class was finally here.
You and Soonyoung were a bit awkward at first — sure, the initial sting of rejection made him distance himself a bit, but he got over it pretty quickly. He came over to the house often, bringing takeout with him and new documentaries he’d rented from the university’s library. He always stayed at least a foot away from you — in early December, he’d accidentally kissed you in greeting, leading the rest of the hangout to be full of unresolved tension.
So much so that he left early.
Aside from that incident, it was like the two of you had never seen each other naked. You both scrunched your noses at your friends’ jabs, leaving them with confused looks. Minghao was the one to tell the frat brothers the news that the two of you were no longer sleeping together.
Minghao also knew that you had a raging heart boner for Soonyoung. He was all you’d talked about in the passing weeks — Minghao even subjected his family to your babble about Soonyoung when he answered your FaceTime calls over winter break. He sighed as you droned on about the man, but allowed it anyway.
“This is my Teacher’s Assistant, Kwon Soonyoung. You will be seeing more of him than of me this year, I have a very crammed schedule. This being said, Soonyoung will go through the syllabus with you and the first lesson of the semester. I will be here on Wednesday, so don’t fret! You still get to have one-on-one time with me.” Professor Kwon smiles, and you glance at Soonyoung, who is already looking at you. You raise your brows, and he shrugs, making a smoking motion.
He’s stoned.
Professor Kwon bids her goodbyes, leaving a very stoned Soonyoung to take over her class. A few girls in the front (that you don’t recognize) are giggling as he passes out the paper syllabus.
“Kitty.” He murmurs with a soft smirk as he slides your paper on your desk, and you scowl. “Shut up.”
He just smiles as he starts walking around and talking about the syllabus — how you can only miss six classes this semester but if you’re nice, he’ll count you present anyway. How his favorite lesson is the one about the three-spined stickleback fish, and how it’s refreshed at least three or four times throughout the course. He talks about how he fully believes that the Bubonic Plague was an experiment made by the government to kill innocent rodents and that his office hours are generally whenever, just shoot me an email.
The class wraps up rather quickly, with Soonyoung assigning reading based on the ethology of geese. You snort at it, hiking your bag over your shoulder as everyone starts to file out. He grabs your elbow as you walk past him, earning a few looks from the girls who had been giggling earlier — and drapes his arm over your shoulders as the two of you saunter out together.
“What the fuck was that for?” You ask as he walks the both of you towards your place, and he shrugs. “They were staring a little hard.”
“What, so I’m your saving grace?” You roll your eyes, but don’t push him away as he tucks you further into his chest. Soonyoung had always been touchy, so you didn’t care. “Of course. I don’t want to deal with a bunch of sophomores hitting on me.”
“Oh, because Kwon Soonyoung, frat boy and resident weed dealer is sooo desirable.” You mock, and he snorts. “I mean, you fucked me for a year, I would hope I’m desirable.”
You elbow him right in the ribs, making him let out a pained noise as he smacks your arm lightly. “What’d you do that for?! I’m not wrong!”
“Whatever! Anyway, are you going to the stoplight party this weekend? We’re hosting.” You ask, fishing your phone out of your pocket to send him the invite. “Oh, I’m not sure. I'm gonna take Seungkwan out for dinner on Thursday, and I’m probably hanging out with Luda on Saturday.”
He stretches, and you feel your stomach sink.
Lee Luda was what the campus referred to as a frat sweetheart. Her family had a huge legacy of going to SNU, and her father actually owned the property where the Alpha Psi Delta fraternity house was built. She was very close with the entire fraternity and had been involved in their charity and party planning since she was a freshman, her ex-boyfriend being a junior and her brother a senior when she was elected.
She was very sweet, very smart and extremely pretty. You'd gotten to know her a bit last year, she was a Biology major and you shared a lot of the same courses.
“Oh. They’re throwing a birthday party for Juyeon, right?” You nod as he does the same, before looping your arms together. “Come on, I’ll treat you to lunch and you can tell me how good I did on my first day as your TA.”
“What is it with you and ratings?”
He just laughs, pulling you closer again. You pretend your cheeks don’t burn at the proximity and the soft scent of his cologne.
January 18th.
It seemed the first week back from holidays really did a number on the student body — nearly everyone who came to the stoplight party hosted by your sorority was white-girl wasted. Seungkwan profusely cried over the little cupcake you presented him, apologizing for his birthday being on a Thursday. He took it and you later found him with strawberry frosting all over his chin and mouth.
It was well past two in the morning, and the party was still going pretty strong. You, Momo and Yerin were running around topping off drinks and manning stations, and you had sent Chan and Minghao to get more liquor from the store down the road. They were the only sober ones amongst the Beta Tau brothers, and Mingyu was dancing on the coffee table with Wonwoo and Jun — all of them wasted off Pink Whitney.
That damn Pink Whitney.
You roll your eyes as you clean up, humming along to Kid Cudi when you sense a disturbance in the force.
“Hey!” You hear someone shout over the music, and you turn to see Soonyoung, Luda and Juyeon next to you. Soonyoung and Luda have grabbed yellow cups, and Juyeon has a red one. You see a few more of the Delta brothers stroll in behind them, helping themselves to the alcohol on your table.
“Hey! What’re you guys doing here? I thought you were celebrating Juyeon!” You shout back, and Luda shrugs. “Yeah, well Sangyeon and Hyunjae said you guys were having a stoplight! You don’t mind, right? Hyunjae said you were cool!”
You shake your head, gesturing to the bottles. “Not at all! Help yourselves, but Minghao and Chan should be back soon with more Malibu and Svedka.”
Luda gives you a cheery smile and grabs for the Everclear, and you bid the men behind her a quick goodbye as you continue into the kitchen to clean up. You grimace at the sight of vomit in the corner by your pantry, and you open your fridge to get out some baking soda when you see Soonyoung’s feet in front of you.
You glance up at him, seeing a quizzical look as you grab the baking soda. “What’s up, Hosh?” You ask, before squatting by the vomit to sprinkle the baking soda on it.
“You’re wearing red!” He says, gesturing to your red dress. You look down at the dress you were wearing — you’d bought it last year, and wore it to his birthday dinner. He’d stared at you the entire evening before dragging you out to his car and fucking you in the parking lot.
Safe to say that neither of you went back into the restaurant.
“Oh, this? I just don’t feel like flirting tonight.” You shrug, and he leans against the counter when you speak again. “You have a yellow cup! Why?”
“Seeing someone here and there.” He shrugs, and you nod, choosing to swallow your questions. When the fuck did he even find the time?
“Nice!” You exclaim, putting the wet sign over the vomit and deciding to deal with it later. You stand, tugging your dress down your legs a bit more before giving him a curt nod and exiting the kitchen.
Minghao and Chan had arrived and helped Yerin and Momo haul in the liquor, stacking it across the table in the dining area. Hyunjae and Sangyeon had joined Vernon, Jihoon and Seokmin in playing beer pong on the second floor, and you hauled ass up the stairs to join in. Vernon is holding a lit joint between his fingers as he makes the bitch cup, a scowl on his face as Sangyeon chuckles.
“Hey, Vern. Can I take a hit?” You tap his shoulder, and he hands it to you before ruffling your hair. “Hey, pretty. Why’re you here? Not having fun downstairs?”
“Shut up and drink your bitch cup.” You roll your eyes, and he smirks as he downs the cup. He rearranges his cups into a different shape, and Sangyeon sinks a few as you finish off Vernon’s spliff.
“Damn, what’s got you so stressed out?” He asks, taking what's left and popping it between his lips. “Ugh, nothing. I’m just annoyed.” You roll your eyes as their game ends, and you grab a few beer cans to start a new one.
“I didn’t know you were dating someone, Y/N!” You hear Hyunjae call from the end of the table, and you just smile and shake your head. “I’m not! I just don’t feel like dry humping a stranger tonight.”
“I’m not a stranger.” Sangyeon says, and you look up at him. He’s peering at you over his cup, the green reflecting off his silver watch. “You’re right.” You shrug, and finish pouring the cups.
“Way to be subtle.” Vernon rolls his eyes, and you smirk. “Don’t worry, Nonnie. You’ll find someone tonight.” Pinching his cheek, you shove him with your hip and settle between him and Jihoon, who steadies you with his hand ghosting over your back. Seokmin makes the first shot for the other team, the ball bouncing into the first cup.
You play for a bit, grimacing every time you down the cups of beer. Eventually, you decide it’s time to just chill in the lounge, and Sangyeon, Jihoon and Hyunjae agree. Seokmin and Vernon admit they’re probably going to raid the fridge for snacks, and you give them a go-ahead as the other men follow you up to the lounge on the third floor.
You see a few of your sisters there, including Jennie and one of the graduated Beta Tau Sigma brothers, Taehyung. They’re canoodling on one of the beanbags, and she glances up at you as you flop onto the couch on the other side of the room.
“Hey, Y/N.” She calls gently, and you look up to see her holding her thumb up, moving it down to see how you’re feeling. You hold a thumbs up, and she nods, returning to her boyfriend. The guys that came with you are sprawled across the floor, with Sangyeon being the only one on the couch with you.
“The room is spinning.” Hyunjae pouts, and you let out a laugh when you hear the door open, looking up to see Vernon and Seokmin with their hands full of snacks, and Soonyoung in after them. He holds up a bag of pre-rolls, and you hold your hand out.
“Is that how you ask, kitty?” Soonyoung rolls his eyes, fishing one out as you kneel on the couch, pushing the window behind you open. He tugs your skirt down a bit, and you turn back around to see him lighting the joint for you. “It’s lemon balm. I know you like those the best.”
“Thanks, Kwon.” You nod, taking it between your fingers as he sits on the floor, moving his head to be cradled by your knees. Your heels dig into his chest, and he peels off your shoes and tossed them to the side. Jennie and Taehyung slip out, with Jennie giving you a thumbs up once more. Once you mirror it, she’s out.
The group is quiet, seemingly trying to come down from their drunkenness when Sangyeon speaks. “Why kitty?”
“Huh?” Soonyoung looks up, and Sangyeon takes a sip from his cup. “You called Y/N kitty. Why?”
“Oh. I was a cat at the Halloween party we met at.” You shrug, and you notice Soonyoung’s brows furrow a bit. “That, and she has a kitty tattooed on her hip.”
You swat his shoulder, making him giggle when Sangyeon nods with wide eyes. “And how do you know that?”
“They used to fuck.” Vernon speaks up, popping a cheese curl into his mouth with the utmost nonchalant shrug. You gape at him, and he shoots you a wink. “Thanks, Hansol. Air out my business, why don’t you?”
“Okay. She also-”
Jihoon claps his hand over Vernon’s mouth, and you roll your eyes as you offer the joint around the group. Hyunjae declines, handing it to Sangyeon. He gives you a glance, seeing you’re already looking at him.
"Isn't Hoshi the Zoology TA? Can't you guys get in some kind of trouble for that?" Hyunjae calls from the floor, making Soonyoung roll his eyes and Sangyeon clears his throat next to you. You glance at him, a stoney look on your face as you gesture to the lit joint in his hand. You're sure they want an answer – but if Soonyoung doesn't say anything, you sure as shit won't.
Taking the hit, Sangyeon passes it back to you and blows the smoke up and out. “That’s really smooth. Do you make these yourself, Hosh?”
“Yeah. It’s just a hobby.” He shrugs, lighting his own up and holding it between his lips. You roll your eyes, “This is also the same guy who rescues kittens for freshmen, teaches a dance class from seven to eight and a self-defense class from eight to nine every Tuesday and Thursday.”
“Oh, that’s actually pretty cool. How much do you sell for?” Sangyeon asks, his eyes a little lower as he looks at you instead of Soonyoung, who is glaring. “I don’t, it’s free.”
“I tell him that he’s a horrible business magnate, Mr. President.” You tilt your own joint at him, and he smiles. “Mr. President?”
“Yeah! Aren’t you the Alpha Psi Delta President? I thought I heard about that from Luda last year.” You rest your head on the couch cushion, and notice the way he bites his lip as his eyes trail your body, before he meets your eyes with a nod.
You’re not the only one who notices.
Clearing his throat, Vernon tries to cut the weird tension in the air. “How about we play a game? Truth or dare, or something?”
“I’m the only girl up here, you better not make me do weird shit or your ass is grass.” You threaten, making him smile widely. “Why, I’d never—”
“Shut up, you were the same one who dared her to streak last year.” Seokmin shoves Vernon, and the group hears the door open — Luda, Minghao and Chan trail in with Yerin and Momo in tow.
“Hey, guys!” Luda greets, and you feel Soonyoung nearly rip himself away from you to greet her. “Hey, Lu.”
“What’re we doing up here?” She asks, taking a seat next to Soonyoung. You grimace inwardly, before feeling Sangyeon’s hand on your knee. He gives you a look that says fix your face, and you inch closer to him now that Soonyoung is literally feet away from you.
“We were gonna do a round of truth or dare.” Jihoon pipes up from the floor, and you smile as the guy covers his eyes. Luda grins, “I’m in! Who’s gonna start?”
You wait until everyone settles, but you catch Minghao’s eyes. He gives you a confused look, his gaze darting to Sangyeon’s hand on your lap. You give him a hard look, and he just shakes his head as Hyunjae sits up to start the game.
“Okay, Luda.” He clears his throat, and she sits up at the sound of her name. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Boring!” Momo pipes up, and a soft giggle spreads through the group. Sangyeon inches a little closer to you, his thigh now touching yours as he rests his hand a little higher on your leg. It’s subtle enough. “What’s your body count?”
She snorts. “Four. Isn’t yours in the double digits?” She teases Hyunjae, who scoffs. “Uh, not that it’s any of your business, but my body count is three.”
The group laughs again, and you find yourself leaning your head against Sangyeon, who props his arm behind you. “Okay, uhm…Y/N!”
You hear Luda call your name, and you give her a wiggle of your brows. “Hit me.”
“Truth or dare?”
“Let’s go…truth. I’ll play it safe.” You shrug, and she smiles. Almost like a cheshire cat, like she knows all your secrets. “Would you sleep with anyone in this room?”
You look around, getting a suggestive brow wiggle from Seokmin and bursting into laughter. “Yeah. I mean, I have. It wouldn’t be weird, I think.”
“Oh, really? Who?” She probes, and you shake your finger at her. “It’s Truth or Dare, not Truth and Explain Yourself.”
She laughs, and you look around the room for your target. “Vernon, truth or dare?”
“I’ll bite, give me a dare.” He pops another cheese curl in his mouth, and you feel your lips tug up at the corners. “I dare you to text Jisun and tell her your feelings for her.”
“Is this payback for last year? It was either that or skinny dipping.” He says pointedly, and you only shrug. “Text her or you’re a wimp.”
“It’s like, twenty degrees outside, Y/N. What if I just streak and risk getting pneumonia?” He feigns distress, and you feel Sangyeon’s fingers gently caressing your shoulder. Is this foreplay?
“Alright, we can do a dare for a dare. Give me something to do, and if I chicken out, you don’t have to text her.” You take a hit of your joint, leaning forward and feeling Sangyeon’s arm fall down your back, fingers now holding your hip lightly. Vernon sees this, clicking his tongue. “Fine. I dare you to makeout with Sangyeon.”
You blink at Vernon, hearing the group collectively ooooh. You scoff, “That’s it? That’s tame as hell, Hansol.”
“You can’t fuck him.” He states, and you smile. “I’m only a woman, Vernon. I have needs.”
“Is anyone going to ask Sangyeon if he’s okay with that?” Luda interjects, and you can sense a bit of a bite in her tone. Sangyeon shrugs, “If Y/N’s cool then I’m cool.”
“How will we even know if they made out? They could lie.” She tries, and you smile at her. “I’m not shy, if you want to watch or something.” You tease, watching her cheeks turn beet red. She shakes her head, and Vernon gives you a pointed look.
“So? What do you say, pipsqueak?”
“Prepare to admit your feelings to the love of your life, Chwe.”
You get up, tugging Sangyeon up with you. You feel a pair of eyes on you, but when you glance over your shoulder, you see Soonyoung glaring at the two of you as you open the door. “We’ll be back.”
You lead him to your bedroom down the hall, hearing him clear his throat as you push the door open and are met with darkness. You fumble with the lamp on your desk for mood lighting, and he smiles down at you.
“We don’t have to.” He murmurs, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. His fingers aren’t as soft as Soonyoung’s. You shake your head, “If you’re down, I’m down. It’s been a while.”
He just smiles, tilting your head to meet your lips halfway. His lips are softer…you kind of miss the chapped feeling. You sigh into the kiss, your hands moving to his waist as he moves the two of you towards your bed. His hands trail down your waist, cupping your ass as he falls back onto your bed, pulling you on top of him. He groans softly as you adjust in his lap, and you feel his hips cant up.
"Sorry, sorry." He mumbles, making you laugh. "Eagerness is never a bad thing."
The kissing is fine. It's a little desperate, a little messy as you grind down on him, but it's not Soonyoung. You pull away, a pout on your lips as the heady feeling of him against your core fills your head. "Not into it, huh?" He asks, and a part of you thinks he's admitting to it, too.
"You like Luda, don't you?" You ask pointedly, and his eyes go wide. "How the fuck–"
"Kind of hard not to notice when she's jumping the gun to save you from my grasp." You laugh, rolling off him to stare at your ceiling. Your arm brushes something soft, and you glance up to see the Jellycat octopus from Soonyoung, Inky Minaj.
"How long did you and Hoshi sleep together?" He asks, and you sigh. "About a year. We were playing some stupid game of cat and mouse for my first three years as a student here, then we fucked at the Halloween rager the frat holds every year. Neither of us remembered it, so we fucked the next morning and the rest is history."
He looks at you, and you peer at him through low eyes. "What?"
"Nothing. Just kind of sounds like you like him." He says matter-of-factly, and you snort. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. I kind of lied to myself for a while. I guess…I think once I realized that maybe he was starting to like me, I stopped it. I don't know. And him being my TA for Zoology definitely made me want to tread lightly."
He nods, shifting uncomfortably. "Luda slept with him a few weeks ago. Around my birthday, I think."
You shoot up almost immediately, turning to face him. "Luda and Soonyoung slept together? When? When is your birthday?"
His face contorts into one that speaks I fucked up. "You didn't know? I thought you guys were like, best friends?"
"When, Sangyeon?" You probe, slapping his knee as he grimaces. "I don't know, like the eighth of November? I was out of town."
"That son of a bitch." You scoff, and stand up. "Well. Let's go. I need Vernon to hop off my dick about his feelings and hop on Jisun's about them."
"Maybe we should wait until you're not upset, Y/N." He says gently, and you groan. "I'm not upset, Soonyoung can fuck whoever he wants, whenever he wants. I'm not his keeper."
"But you want to be, don't you?" He says pointedly, and you huff in response. "Come on, Mr. President. I've got a point to prove, and it's that I don't need Kwon Soonyoung to get laid."
"We all already know that, pretty." He rolls his eyes, allowing you to lead him out. He shuts your door, and makes it a big show of fixing your skirt and wiping his lips of your gloss as you open the door to the lounge. Soonyoung and Luda are draped across the couch, and you lock eyes with him the moment you step inside the room. Minghao, unable to read the room for the first time, turns and cheers.
"Woo! How was it?" He asks, taking a swig from the bottle of Pink Whitney that somehow made its way upstairs. "Pretty good." You admit shyly, feeling Sangyeon sit on the ground with you. He pulls you onto his lap, and you give Vernon a knowing look.
"You gotta do it, Chwe."
"Oh, come on! You hate me!"
"I don't hate you, but I sure am tired of hearing you mope about Jisun."
"How are you even coherent right now? You had two spliffs and a shitload of beer."
You smile, wiggling your fingers for his phone. "Give it here, Chwe."
He groans, handing it over to you. You unlock it, not unable to shake Soonyoung's eyes off you. You know he's eyeing the man holding you, because he shifts under you and even brushes the hem of your dress. You smirk to yourself as you scroll to Vernon's conversation with Jisun, seeing a pre-drafted message sitting in the text box.
Msg To: Roh Jisun (the loml who doesn't know she's the loml yet)
[4:31am] hi jisun. i just wanted to say that uhh i've liked you for a while and i know it's late (or early….wtv you prefer) and i do not expect you to answer this at all (because i'm a wimp) but if it's not a bother, i'd like to take you out. to dinner, maybe, or whatever you'd like to do. i know you like making jewelry, though, i know this cool jeweler in the city who does like,,,classes. maybe? sorry this is so awkward i'm nervous.
You read over it, and look at Vernon. He's blushing deeply, and you smile softly. "Just send it, Nonnie."
"What if she says no?"
"What if she says yes?" Momo speaks up, and you see her also taking a sip from the bottle of Pink Whitney. The group echoes her, and Vernon sighs. "Okay, fine. Fine! I'll send it and if she says no I'll just…act normal."
He turns the screen to face everyone, pressing send with his ring finger and fully launching the phone across the room. "Well! That's that!" He smiles, reaching for the bottle of Pink Whitney and taking a long drink.
"Who's next?"
February 7th.
Zoology with Soonyoung was not nearly as bad as you thought it was going to be. He stayed true to his word – if you were cool, he marked you present. If you were a douche, he marked you absent. His office hours were erratic, and you found it increasingly difficult to get a hold of him for the first few classes. He was always helping another classmate, or busy with his classes at the dance studio.
In other news, Sangyeon was avoiding you like the fucking plague. You'd waved at him a few days after the party, when you noticed a bruise blooming on his cheekbone. He greeted you quickly, before leaving you practically in the dust. Luda was also increasingly cold to you, but you just assumed it was over one of the boys – whether it was Soonyoung or Sangyeon was beyond you.
Vernon actually managed to woo Jisun. She was charmed by his general awkwardness, and when she texted you about it, you laughed and told her that it was the most outward emotion you'd seen him exude since you'd known the guy. She laughed and said he was sweet, and that she'd let you know how the date went. Vernon screamed in your messages about it and stated "I hope you get the best head in the world."
Speaking of getting the best head in the world, you finally caught Soonyoung in the hallway today, asking him if you could have an impromptu study session in the library later. He sighed, checking his watch and agreeing rather reluctantly. You grimaced, and told him you didn't have to ask him, you could very well just join the Zoology study group that met twice a week.
He apologized and said he'd book the study room for five, and that he'd meet you there.
Well, it's now six and the two of you have done nothing but bicker. You'd asked about Lorenz and what he meant about the transposibility of key stimuli, to which he'd just scoffed and said that you'd know all about key stimuli.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" You spit, and he just shook his head. "Whatever. Key stimuli is just something that can trigger specific sensory information in an animal's brain. So certain shapes, colors, sounds, even gestures and behaviors can trigger an animal to act in a certain manner."
You sucked your teeth, jotting down his words before speaking. "Do you know what happened to Sangyeon?"
He almost snaps his neck looking up at you, brows furrowed as he shakes his head. "No? Why does that even matter, aren't we supposed to be studying?"
You raise a brow at him, "Why are you so defensive, dude? I'm just asking you if you know what happened. He and Luda have been avoiding me like I have lice."
"Get a monkey." He shrugs, looking back down at his phone. He's scrolling mindlessly, and you huff as you put down your pen. "Alright. What's the problem, Soonyoung?"
He winces slightly, before shaking his head. "Don't know what you mean. Do you understand now? Or do you still need to understand the difference between key stimuli and releasers? People have been asking all week about that."
You frown, feeling your throat a bit tight as you sit up. "Why are you acting like this?" You murmur, and he must hear something in your voice that makes him look up. "Acting like what?"
"Like you can't stand to be in the same room as me."
"That's not true." He rolls his eyes, and you scoff. "It sure seems like it. I ask you a question about class, you're rude. I mention Sangyeon and Luda, you're annoyed and irritated. Did I do something? Are you upset with me?"
It seems your prodding has been more of you poking the bear, because he sucks his teeth and slides his phone onto the table. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am upset with you. And you did do something."
"Okay? So tell me what it is so we can fix it." You state, and he laughs dryly. "We? There is no we in you and Sangyeon making out like a pair of lovesick idiots at the stoplight party. He was practically eye fucking you the entire time you were together."
"I don't see what the hell that has to do with you, Soonyoung." You retort, and he shakes his head. "I just don't understand why you'd make me feel like there was something between us and then go and make out with some other guy. He likes Luda, you know, so it's not like it would have gone anywhere."
His tone is bitter, and you can recognize he's saying all of this to hurt your feelings. Maybe because he's hurt, and he feels disappointed in his own choices. Nonetheless, it gets under your skin and hits just the right bullseye for you to explode.
"Where the fuck do you get off telling me what I can and can't do with my life, Soonyoung? You and I both agreed that this wasn't mutually exclusive, and Sangyeon and I just made out! You and I haven’t even fucked since we stopped last year, so I don't understand why your panties are in a twist!" You exclaim, and he scoffs out a breath of disbelief.
"You know what, maybe this entire thing was a fucking mistake. I should've never asked for there to even be an 'us', because if I knew I was going to feel this way knowing that you can just do whatever or whoever you want–"
You cut him off before he can finish. "Is that what you think I'm doing? I've literally rejected so many people in just the past year because you were acting like you couldn't live without me! So what if I kissed Sangyeon? So what if I did? Forgive me for thinking that maybe you changed your mind about me and how you felt about me after you slept with Luda! You're not the only one who felt led on, you know?!"
Your breathing is heavy as you finish yelling, with Soonyoung blinking at you, ears red. "You know about that?"
His voice is almost ashamed. Almost.
"If you didn't want to make this an exclusive thing, or make the people around us think we were together, you should've stopped pulling me into random bedrooms to fuck and kissing me in the kitchen of the frat. Maybe don't buy me a Jellycat Octopus and say you want to be exclusive with me if you're just going to pull this sort of shit." You feel tears sting your eyes as you rip your bag off the chair in front of you, feeling your throat tighten as you grab your remaining things off the table. "Y/N-"
"You know, it may be taking you five years to finish your degree, but I want to finish mine on time. Have a good life, Soonyoung. Don't call me." You spit, watching his jaw drop slightly before tightening. "I won't."
"Good."
"Great."
"Fine."
He watches as you slam the door behind you, feeling his stomach sink damn near into the ground as he sees the sweater you were wearing still hanging across the back of your chair. "Fine."
February 14th.
It'd been a week since your fight with Soonyoung.
He'd unfollowed you on Instagram, and seemingly decided to pretend as though you didn't exist. He didn't acknowledge you if you were over at the frat for Minghao, and he certainly didn't speak to you. You'd asked him to pass you the salt when you'd gone over yesterday for a Valentine's dinner party with the brothers, and he just left the table without a word. It was embarrassing enough that you asked Minghao to walk you home.
What you didn't know was that the fellow girlfriends of his frat brothers spoke to him about his behavior. Sana and Jisun called Sowon over FaceTime and even had Seungcheol talk to him, and he stood there and took the scolding like a puppy with his tail between his legs. Seungcheol told him that his behavior towards you wasn't going to get you to forgive him, much less be with him and that he understood that Soonyoung felt negatively about your actions – but that Soonyoung cannot be upset about it because he had his chance and he blew it by making out with Yujin at the Halloween party.
Talk about key stimuli. Bad behavior does not get rewarded.
He'd been left with his own thoughts after that, and he stared at all the little trinkets he had that reminded him of you. The sweater you left in the library was hung over his desk chair, and it still smelled of your citrusy perfume. The piggy bank you got him for his birthday was sitting on his bookshelf, still stuffed full with new bills you put in before giving it to him. You'd also given him a few items of clothing that reminded you of him, one of which being an oversized black sweater with your initials embroidered in the sleeve. He frequently wore it unless he was sure he'd be seeing you.
He didn't know why. It just felt nice to…feel like he belonged to you.
"Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!" He's standing in front of the class, and the sophomore girls in the front of the room coo at his cheerfulness. You're sitting behind them, a sour expression on your face as he dims the lights, a baggy navy cardigan draped over your shoulders. You didn't like that one as much as the one you'd left in the library.
"In honor of this pseudo holiday, we're going to go over the most romantic of animals. Consider this a free class, because this is definitely not on the syllabus or in the curriculum, I just like to talk about it." He smiles, and the group of girls aww again, and you make a face as he turns the projector to the next slide.
"Naturally, you have the ones you've heard of the most. Penguins, seahorses, swans, and doves. Shit, even elephants are said to mate for life, and become extremely depressed if their lover suddenly passes or, in some cases, just up and leaves. But my favorite?"
He changes the slide, seeing your eyes widen as your favorite fish fills the screen.
"The French Angelfish mate for life. Monogamy isn't usually practiced amongst observed populations of fish, though. So much so that there is an analogy called the Fish Love Analogy. This is when your partner can meet all your needs, both emotional and physical, but ultimately only turns into an object of desire."
You frown at this, but he changes the slide.
"French Angelfish are rarely seen alone, as once they've mated, they're inseparable. It's really quite beautiful and it proves that animals are sentient beings." He smiles slightly, looking around to see everyone jotting down notes.
"What about you, Soonyoung? Do you believe in that stuff?" One of the sophomore girls speaks up, and he shrugs. "I do, yes. I think it's a beautiful thing, to fall in love and have that person forever. I think as humans, though, we forget to cherish what we have. That's why the rate of divorce is so high."
You roll your eyes.
"Do you think you've found your forever, Soonyoung?" Another one of the girls asks, and he sighs. "You know, I have. I have found her, but I'm also a human that doesn't know how to cherish good parts of life. Animals are just wired to operate in a certain way, but giving humans free will has truly affected us as a society." He scoffs, earning a laugh from the class.
You're not smiling, but he sees your lips twitch slightly.
"What if she's not your Angelfish, though?" Someone from behind you speaks up, and he purses his lips.
His eyes find yours, and he can practically feel them pierce through him.
"I doubt that she's not."
He turns back to the slides, proceeding to talk about how humans have romanticized doves and swans to be representative of love. He finishes the slides quickly, bidding everyone a happy Valentine's day once more and earning echoes of the girls telling him they hope he and his Angelfish figure it out. He thanked them, hitching his backpack over his shoulder as he held the door open for them.
He looks over them, spotting you still gathering your materials. You glance up at him, a silent communication of please wait for me from your eyes. He does, he waits as you walk down the steps and tug your cardigan around you tightly. He remembers when you bought it, he was with you and you were actually wearing the same dress you have on now, the long skirt now paired with platform boots so it doesn't drag on the floor.
You slip out in front of him, and wait a few feet away as he locks the door. You stare at the floor as he falls into pace next to you, albeit a few feet behind. You're leading the way to somewhere, he notes, because you're not headed towards the frat or your place. He follows silently, never closing the gap between you as you turn into the veterinary hallway.
The graduating class last year had raised enough money to install an aquarium for viewing pleasure. It had all sorts of fish – including angelfish. You stopped in front of it, with him lingering a few feet behind and watching from afar. You point silently, the fish swimming past your hand and joining another.
"Which one are you?" You mumble, and he steps closer to you, but not enough to touch you. "Probably the male one."
You snort, backing up slightly, your knuckles brushing as you clasp your hands behind your back.
"I'm sorry." You whisper, and he shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry."
"Let's just agree we're both sorry." You shrug, and he sighs. "You shouldn't have to be sorry, though. I've always come off so strong, and I'm sorry if you felt like I was projecting my feelings onto you. You don't ever have to reciprocate if you don't want to."
"Do you want me to?" You ask gently, watching the fish swim in circles. He hesitates, before nodding. "I don't think there is anything I want more." He murmurs, and you look at him out of the corner of your eye.
"Careful, I won't get you a gift for your birthday this year." You joke, but you see him sink slightly, before he's kneeling on the floor. "Soonyoung?"
"I'm sorry I've been such an asshole, I know I don't deserve to be with you in any form." He hugs your knees, and you feel your cheeks flame as someone walks by you. "Soonyoung, get up."
"Not until you forgive me." He squeezes your legs tighter, and a couple of girls walk by, gaping at the sight. "I forgive you! Just get up!" You grit, tugging his arm up and hurrying away from the hallway.
His eyes are teary as you pull him into a janitor's closet, making you scoff out a laugh as you wipe his eyes. "Oh, don't cry. I don't like seeing you cry." You say gently, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. His lips jut out in a pout as his hands come up to your wrists.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks, and you roll your eyes. "Really?"
“Is that a no?”
“I should make you grovel, honestly.”
“I’m not above begging, you should know this.”
“Just kiss me, you idiot.”
He does.
He does, and it's the warmest you'd felt in a long time. His lips are just as chapped as the last time he'd kissed you, his fingers just as soft as they held your face gently. You feel him press himself against you as his tongue slowly licks into your mouth. You play along, your fingers curling into his hair and tugging softly. He whines against your lips, making you smirk as you pull him away.
"Still wanna get on your knees?" You murmur, and he nods quickly as he sinks to his knees in front of you, and you clear your throat as he pulls your leg over his shoulder, pushing your skirt up to your hips. His breath is warm against your skin as he gasps, peering up at you from behind the bunched fabric. "You're not–"
"You're about to yap yourself out of some ass, shut up." You roll your eyes, making him frown as his eyes disappear under your skirt, feeling his teeth nip at your thigh. You flinch, no longer used to his biting habits. "Be gentle."
"Yeah, yeah. I don't tell you how to kiss other guys, don't tell me how to eat your pussy." He grumbles, and you go to argue before you feel his tongue circle your clit slowly. You sigh, feeling his free hand snake up to lace his fingers with yours. You hold his fingers tightly as he buries his face into your cunt, eagerly soaking up whatever you'll give him.
You cover your mouth with your free hand, feeling a bit of anxiety pool in your stomach as you hear students walk past the closet. He pulls you even closer, slurping obscenely when you hear someone stop in front of the door, murmured whispers and soft kissing sounds when the doorknob jiggles. You see Soonyoung's hand shoot to grab it, attempting to hold the door tightly shut as they pull.
He doesn't pull away when they yank the door open, leaving you to nearly topple as you yank your skirt down, hiding him beneath it. You're faced with Lee Chan and his girlfriend,Jung Haerim, lipstick smeared all over his face and neck as your own burns in embarrassment. His jaw drops, and you find yourself squirming away from Soonyoung's tongue as you shove him away.
Soonyoung pouts as he exits your skirt, a deep frown on his glistening lips as he looks at Chan. "Really, man?"
"You're the one stealing my closet! You know this is my spot!" Chan argues as Soonyoung stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, your orgasm ruined and humiliation levels on 10.
"You know, getting fucked in a mop closet shouldn't be something you're proud of." Soonyoung scoffs as he grabs your hand once more, tugging you out as Chan and Haerim blink at the two of you. She opens her mouth, holding up her finger before closing it, pressing her lips together. "Can't we just go to my place?"
"Should've thought of that earlier!" Soonyoung yells over his shoulder, picking up his pace as he hears Chan start after the two of you. You feel the awkward tension start to dissipate as you both bolt down the hallway, and you feel him take a sharp turn towards the fraternity. You hear Chan start yelling curse words before his footsteps stop, and the two of you just giggle to yourselves as you keep running towards the house.
Seeing the house come into view, the two of you quickly make your way up the steps and nearly slam into Seungcheol, who had come to visit (without anyone's knowledge.) He barely moves out of the way as you and Soonyoung barrel up the stairs, not even acknowledging a rather stoned Vernon and Jisun on the second floor landing before sliding into his room. It seemed both of you were on the same page about finishing what was started.
The room is full of clattering as you both undress, and your books are thrown to the side as his hands pull you to him before you both topple onto his bed. His lips are instantly on yours, but it's too chaste – and you hear him murmur something before he presses his lips to yours again.
"I love you."
You scoff out a laugh, before you see the seriousness in his eyes. Blinking, you sit up a bit, your fingers trembling as you gently stroke his cheek. He nibbles his lip, and you can feel another laugh bubble in your throat. His ears tinge pink as you laugh, pulling him back down to your level, nuzzling your nose against his softly.
"I love you, too."
His eyes widen, and you swear he stops breathing before you tap him gently. "Hosh? You there?"
He blinks, his hand tightens reflexively around your hip. "Yeah…I'm here."
You smile at him, tilting your head as you run your fingers through his hair. "You mean it, right? Do you love me?"
"Let me be struck by Zeus himself if I'm lying."
The two of you laugh after a moment, and he swallows carefully. Neither of you make a move to get down to business, instead staring at each other like this was the last time you'd ever see each other.
"You okay?" You murmur, and he shakes his head. "You love me."
"You know, I figured it would be pretty obvious that I'd liked you well before we ever slept together." You say pointedly. "I'm still not forgiving you, though. You'll have to work for that."
He quirks his brow at you, before pushing off you and flopping onto his back. You look at him, and he clears his throat. "M'lady, your throne awaits."
"You're an idiot."
"Your idiot, now come on. I've got to prove myself to you."
May 9th.
"Y/L/N Y/N."
Cheers are heard around the auditorium as your name is called, but not even your parents are as loud as your boyfriend amongst your graduating class.
"THAT'S MY BABY!"
You feel your cheeks heat as everyone aw's and ooh's, hearing his fraternity brothers blow kazoos like idiots in the stands. The ceremony quickly came to an end as the last few names were called, the security attempting to diffuse crowds of people exiting. You found yourself looking for your boyfriend, finding him being embraced by Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua as his eyes searched for you.
Your relationship with Soonyoung was not perfect by any means. You nearly failed Zoology because he kept interrupting your studying to kiss you, often leading to other things before you would crawl out of his bed to your laptop on the desk, before being lured back in by your siren of a boyfriend. The two of you kept it under wraps best as you could, seeing if Professor Kwon found out (or anyone else, really) you could both get in trouble.
But, everyone seemed to finally be satisfied with the outcome. You and Soonyoung were set to go to grad school together, and everyone congratulated the two of you as you made your relationship official – posting each other freely on social media almost everyday. Coffee dates photographed on your story turned into study (and sex) sessions, his Instagram story was full of you in cute workout sets as you finally let him drag you to his Tuesday dance class. Your dashboard was full of him posting you as much as he could, captions of "my girlfriend!!!" and "me n u…get it? menu…#lovestagram" under a photo of the two of you at a diner.
Your sorority and his fraternity came together to host a graduation party for all the graduates, and you and Soonyoung were going to arrive together.
You stare at him from your position near the doors, waiting for him to spot you. You'd both worn a soft pink under your white gowns, and his eyes scan the entire area before finally landing on you. He fights his way out of his friends' arms, and you hear him exclaim to them that he needs to find his girlfriend.
As he approaches you, you think of the tangled web that had been your relationship. A bit of jealousy wrapped in emotional unavailability and insecurities from the both of you, like a cricket held down by a spider's thread. You think about the chase, the game of cat and mouse that the two of you played as you kissed eagerly, a mess of tongues and spit before he'd have to slip away. You think about the first time he smoked you out, and how he'd laughed and held you tightly when you told him you felt like you were about to fall off the Earth.
You think about his growth as a person, about his growth as a man and his growth as your person. The person you found yourself drawn to since you'd stepped foot in Beta Tau Omega four years ago. The same person who bought you a new laptop and then took you out to dinner, the same person who immediately glued himself to you once he found out how much you had in common.
The same person who left when he felt like everything was too much by your side, only to admit his wrongs a year later and beg for your forgiveness on a roof in the middle of autumn. The same person who then slowly lured you into his sticky and tangled web of emotions and unspoken confessions, of kisses full of I love you and embraces screaming I missed you.
The same person who said you're his angelfish, his person, his forever. The same person who realizes his mistakes and pushes his pride aside to apologize, even if it means the two of you end up a mess of spit and cum and tears. The same person who tells you now, every night, that he loves you and has done everything he can to prove it day by day.
"Hey, kitty." His smile is warm and full of mischief as his hand gently brushes your hair away from your face, revealing the earrings he gave you a few weeks ago. He thumbs at them softly, before pulling you in closely for a chaste kiss.
You smile at him, knowing that this tangled mess is only the beginning of your forever with him. "Let's get out of here."
pairing: kwon soonyoung x f!reader
genre: psychological horror, enemies to lovers, angst, smut [18+ mdni]
wc: 12,667
warnings: depictions of gore, violence, guns/weapons, scary creatures, anomalies, liminal spaces, minor character death, dystopian vibes, a bit lore heavy, reader has a panic attack at one point, brief mention of suicidal ideation, fingering, nipple play, unprotected piv sex (don't do this irl), creampie, praise kink, body worship, talking u through it, dirty talk, petnames (baby, pretty girl)
a/n: i am finallyyyyy getting back to the remainder of my halloween series fics!! truly so so sorry it's taking me this long, life has been kicking my ass but i am doing my darndest. as the title suggests, this is an au based on the backrooms!! if you don't know what the backrooms is, it's basically vague internet lore about an alternate reality of liminal spaces you can glitch into. you start at level 0, but there are infinite levels, each one a distinct creepy setting that may contain hostile creatures and appear to go on forever. this was SO fun to write, and although it's fairly dark and a bit scary i hope you guys will enjoy the story :) huge big ol thank u to @miniseokminnies for beta-ing, u da realest ily <3
SYNOPSIS: Your expedition into the Backrooms takes a turn when all of your crew members are killed, picked off one-by-one by the monstrous Entities that live within this labyrinthian abyss. Now it's just you, left to explore this never-ending liminal hellscape on your own, pressing onward as far as you can go before you too are killed. But when you unexpectedly run into another human, you have to decide whether or not to trust him. His cold, unfriendly demeanor is certainly off-putting, but your life very well might depend on his intel — so what choice do you have, really?
Day 42
Commander Jarvis is dead. I was able to retrieve his pack before the Entity Epsilon dragged his corpse into the nether. As the First Officer I am to resume his command of the crew — what's left of us anyway. Privates Pierson and Yu also did not survive Level 8. May their souls rest in peace.
According to the limited records recovered from prior expeditions, we should be nearing the Null Zone to Level 9. As far as the Axiom Company is concerned, Level 9 is the furthest any crew has reached before being fully exterminated. In my opinion, however, it remains a possibility that others from prior expeditions may have survived — perhaps moving on to higher levels, beyond the Company's reach. Whether they are out there, I suppose we will either find out or die trying.
Day 46
We encountered another Entity Epsilon — that makes five. We have not once escaped from one of them as a full crew, and this time was no different. Privates Klipp and Jameson fought valiantly until the very end, but that thing is a monster. May their souls rest in peace. It's just me, Sanchez, and Finn left now.
We should have reached a Null Zone by now, but no such luck. I have a bad feeling we've just been going in circles — but we have no choice but to press on.
Day 47
Sixth Entity Epsilon encounter. We were so close. The Null Zone was right there, but it was faster. May Privates Sanchez and Finn rest in peace. I have retreated and am writing this in haste from our previous post, but I won't be safe here for much longer. I am going to make a run for the Null Zone. If I don't make it, then so be it.
You slip the tablet into your pack and raise your gun at the ready. Quietly slipping out of the abandoned makeshift tent you've been hiding under, you take a deep breath. Scanning the cavernous tunnels in your periphery, it looks clear — though, that doesn't mean much. You've unfortunately had enough run-ins with the Epsilons at this point to know that they can practically materialize out of thin air. Those fuckers are fast. You know your odds aren't great, but it's not like you have much to lose left anyway.
Heading in the direction of the Null Zone, you break into a sprint. Normally you'd take greater care to move in silence, but you've learned the hard way that all the stealth in the world is fruitless against the Epsilons. So you bolt at top speed, the echoes of your boots thunking against the limestone ground booming through the stale, damp air. If there's one nearby, you're done for.
Your senses start to sting, picking up on the empty resonance of the Null Zone ahead. You're almost there. Just 30 meters more. So close you can taste it. Then a horrific screech fills your ear.
You don't stop, you don't slow, you don't even dare to peek over your shoulder. You know once you do, you're dead meat. You run and run, muscles screaming in agony as you push yourself onward. 20 meters. 10 meters. Five. Four, three, two—
Against all instincts you hurl yourself at the cavern wall between two towering stalagmites. For a split millisecond you consider the possibility that you have misjudged the location of the Null Zone, and that you are about to slam face-first into solid rock. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace for impact.
But it doesn't come.
A sudden deafening silence hits you like a truck. You open your eyes you see yourself hurling face-first into slick, oily pavement. You brace yourself just in time — your palms slamming into the rough ground as you catch yourself. Quickly rolling over you leap back to your feet, reaching for your gun and raising it to position as you rapidly scan your surroundings, but the Epsilon is gone — as is the miserable cave system you'd been in for nearly two weeks. Instead, you find yourself standing in the middle of a street in a suburban neighborhood, dim and shadowy in the moonless nighttime, shrouded in a chilly lingering mist. The caves were an insufferable flavor of quiet, but you had gotten used to its reverberating echoes; here it is just as quiet, but instead of claustrophobic it feels uncomfortably vast. You're not sure which is worse — but you're here now, and there is no going back.
Your head swivels as you peer down the street in both directions. As expected, both ways appear endless — you're used to that by now. No immediate anomalies are detected, and since the Company's intel on Level 9 is practically nonexistent anyway it really doesn't matter which way you go at this point. You decide to go left.
You walk down the center of the silent street, observing the mundane cookie-cutter houses that pass. The only source of light here is the sparse low-wattage street lamps, their incandescent glow seeming to cast more shadows than anything, but still they all look more or less the same: color palettes ranging from gray to beige, windows darkened, manicured lawns sitting picture-perfect without a blade of grass out of place. Painfully bland. You note none of the houses have numbers, but of course they don't.
Eventually you spot a four-way intersection. Approaching the cross street, you pause at its stop sign — the first and only bit of color you've seen thus far. Logistically, it makes the most sense to continue straight; there are no street signs, so the more turns you make the more likely you are to get lost. But there's no logic to the Backrooms — just when you think you're starting to figure things out, everything can change in the blink of an eye. Try to strategize your way out of a situation, and you'll probably end up in a worse one. You decide to turn right.
The pure silence is deafening, causing your ears to ring just enough for it to be irksome. You don't know what Entities await you in Level 9 — anyone who does most likely did not live to tell the tale; and while this place feels somehow even more devoid of life than the cave systems of Level 8 your intuition tells you something awful is present here. Yet you walk for miles and come across nothing but endless empty houses. You wonder what would happen if you tried to go inside one; the thought is appealing — as is the potential of finding an actual bed to sleep in for the first time in months. But the illusion of shelter might cause you to let your guard down, and you're not yet sure if that's a risk you're willing to take.
You stroll for another 15 minutes, passing a few more intersections but continuing on your path ahead. The protocol for a new level is always to scope out the environment first, provided you deem it safe enough to do so. You've always found that a bit laughable — only Level 0 is free of Entities, after all. After that, any sense of safety is merely an illusion. It's a matter of when, not if, something finds you. But by Backrooms standards, you currently feel about as safe as it gets.
Your feet start to drag as you walk on. You have been going practically non-stop for the brutal two weeks spent in the Level 8 caves — a little rest would do you wonders right now. You begin to study each house as you walk past, trying to get a sense of any danger that may be lurking behind their doors. Much of surviving the Backrooms boils down to natural survival instincts; yours are pretty damn good (it's why you were recruited, after all), but you're exhausted. Even the best soldiers start to lose their grip on reality in this state.
You pass on a few dozen houses. None of them have felt dangerous, but uncertainty is making you hesitant, so you reluctantly press on. You're nearly past the umpteenth beige house when something makes you stop. Turning to your left, the house standing before you looks as unremarkable as the rest. But something about it feels different. Whether that's a good thing or not, you are unsure — but there's only one way to find out.
You step onto the sidewalk, slowly approaching the front door. Even up close, you can't make out any single thing through the boxy windows; it's as if they are solidly opaque rather than just dark. Reaching for the handle, you turn it slowly. You were half expecting it to be locked, but it turns, granting you entry. You push it open just a crack, raising your weapon as you peer into the dark house; it looks like an ordinary modern home interior — no immediate signs of Entities or other danger. Slowly you let yourself in, shutting the front door behind you. You tug a small flashlight from your utility belt — an item infrequently used in the Backrooms, as many Entities are attracted to light. Clicking it on, you scan the room, finding nothing but furnishings as dull and uninteresting as the house's exterior. A set of stairs stands before you, but you proceed past it down the first floor's main hall. You open the doors you pass along the way, only finding a half bath and a few empty closets. Stepping into the kitchen, you find it as ordinary as the rest of the house. You're about to head upstairs when a slightly ajar cabinet catches your eye.
Walking over to the counter, you hesitantly reach for the cabinet door. You open it, eyes widening as your flashlight beam falls on the stock of cans and provisions packs behind the door — food.
Your mind starts to race. Without a doubt, humans were once here. But where are they now? If they had moved on to higher Levels, it's unlikely they would have left food behind. Did they die? Are they still here? If so, where are they?
click
The metallic sound behind your ear sends an immediate chill down your spine. You freeze, body going rigid in fear.
"Put the gun down and turn around. Slowly."
The gruff male voice comes from right behind you. You do as it says, cautiously setting your weapon on the counter and raising your hands in the air. Turning slowly you come face to face with the black muzzle of a pistol, held by a tall, scowling man.
"Who are you?" he barks. "You Company?"
He glares at you through narrowed eyes. Between his spiked hair, tattered headband, eyebrow piercing, and the large scar across his cheek, he would look scary even if he weren't holding a gun to your head.
"I'm Commander l/n of the Exodus Crew, Expedition Andromeda. Our mission is to—"
"Yeah, whatever, I know the spiel," the man scoffs. He cocks his head at you. "Where's the rest of your crew?"
"Dead," you answer him with a glare.
"You kill 'em?" he questions, pressing his pistol threateningly into your forehead.
"What?" you balk. "Of course not, why would you even think that?"
"What do you know of Expedition Crusader?" the man continues, disregarding your question.
"Crusader?" you repeat, your brow shifting in confusion. "There's no such expedition from the Axiom Company with that name."
He lets out an incredulous huff.
"Okay, so you know nothing. Got it."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you inquire. You glance up at the barrel of the man's pistol. "And can you get this fucking gun out of my face?"
He stares at you for a moment, considering. You are a potential threat, but you also could be of use to him. Eventually he lowers the gun, letting it rest at his hip; you note that he doesn't take his finger off the trigger.
"It means you're just another pawn in the game."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" you stare at him, growing annoyed already. "Who even are you?"
The man looks at you, unanswering, the gears in his head clearly still turning.
"Call me Hoshi," he finally tells you. He gestures to your gun on the counter. "Get your weapon. But try anything funny and I will kill you."
"I won't," you respond as you grab your gun and put it back into its holster. "I'm just glad to see another human," you admit.
The man huffs again. "Right."
"What's your fucking problem?" you question, following him as he walks off toward a door at the other end of the kitchen. As he opens it you see it appears to lead down to the basement. He descends the staircase without responding; you roll your eyes, trudging after him.
"Shut the door behind you," he barks from somewhere in the darkness. You oblige, extinguishing the already inadequate light source. You're about to complain when you hear the strike of a match — Hoshi ignites a single lantern in the middle of the room, casting a faint flow over the basement's contents. You see a neatly piled stash of rations in one corner, an assortment of rifles and weapons in another, and a twin sized mattress with a single blanket pushed up against the wall — clearly this is where he has hunkered down. Hoshi sits down at the single table, where various maps and tablets are scattered, as if he had been studying them.
"Tell me everything you know about the Company and its missions," he says as you sit in the chair opposite from him.
"That's classified—"
He crosses his arms as he shakes his head, cutting you off. "I already know it all. I just want to see how much you know."
"So you're Company then, too."
"Formerly," he grumbles.
"What does that mea—"
"We'll get there. Just start from the beginning."
"The beginning?" you raise your brow at him. "You want a fucking history lesson?"
"Skip the details," he waves his hand dismissively. "Just give me a summary."
You stare at him, mouth slightly ajar. You don't like the idea of just sitting around wasting time, but you are fucking exhausted.
"Fine," you sigh. "In the year 2135 a group of scientists conducting research on particle physics accidentally discovered a gateway to an alternate dimension that became known as the Backrooms. One of the scientists, Zhang, volunteered to be the first person to enter. He went in, and the team waited patiently for him to report back — nobody knew whether time progressed at the same velocity in the Backrooms, after all, so there could be some sort of delay. They gave it a few days, then a few weeks, then several months. But he was never heard from again. The team then decided to set up a base camp in the Backrooms, to conduct further research and transmit data back to Standard Earth. It was a groundbreaking endeavor, and every day it seemed there was a new discovery that made physicists question everything they knew about the fabric of reality. The research was thriving, but there was a major problem: the initial team who went in could not find a way out. Transmissions from the team became less and less frequent; and eventually, radio silence. Optimism began to dwindle, and funding started to run out. The project was in danger of being shut down entirely — but a coalition of wealthy donors founded the Axiom Company to continue the research. They launched Expedition Pioneer, and sent the first official crew in on a recovery mission. They found the base camp, but it seemed abandoned — and the scientists were nowhere to be seen. The recovery operation turned into reconnaissance, and soon the first Null Zone was discovered. That's when they realized there was more than one level to the Backrooms — but just like nobody could return to Standard Earth from Level 0, those who proceeded to Level 1 could not return to the previous Level. This encouraged Axiom to turn the Backrooms into a full-fledged enterprise. More and more expeditions embarked, and more and more Levels were discovered; the physicists began to theorize that the Backrooms actually contained an infinite number of Levels — a never-ending labyrinth of dimensions within dimensions. But of course, there were also the Entities. Entity Alphas were the first, lurking in the shadows of Level 1's parking garage enviro. They were awful enough as is — large, gangly, and fleshy, strong enough to rip humans apart in a single go. But it only got worse when the Pioneer crews discovered they also had the ability to mimic — disguising themselves as fellow crew members, luring you in with a false sense of security and then shredding you into pieces."
You pause as the gruesome imagery flashes through your mind. Gritting your teeth, you reach for your canteen and take a swig of lukewarm water. You've had no one to talk to since the last of your crew were exterminated (except for yourself, but you try to keep that to a minimum — for your safety as well as your sanity), and your throat is already growing hoarse.
"Anyway," you continue, recapping your canteen and clipping it back onto its place on your utility belt. "I'm sure you're all too familiar with the known Entities." Hoshi doesn't respond, continuing to stare at you coldly from across the table. A grimace seems permanently etched onto his face, but you can't get a read on his motives. Frustrating.
"Despite all the setbacks, incredible progress was made. The Company developed a massive database, recording everything known about the Backrooms and each of its Levels. The first few Levels are the most well-known, but documentation exists through Level 8. No reports from further Levels have ever been received, and nothing is known of Level 9. There has even been speculation that Level 9's enviro is inhospitable to humans, that no one who has entered it has survived — but we are currently in Level 9, so clearly that's not true."
You stop, wondering if Hoshi is satisfied with your rundown of the shit he certainly already knows. His lips remain pursed, saying nothing but continuing to glare at you.
"Do you have a fucking problem with me?" you spit suddenly.
"That depends," he responds, unfazed by your hostile tone.
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"It's complicated."
"It's a yes or no question," you scowl.
"You are naive. Things are not as straightforward as you think they are."
"Go ahead then," you huff, growing exasperated. "Explain to me how things really are, since apparently I'm fucking stupid."
"You're not stupid," he states matter-of-factly. "You wouldn't have made it this far if you were."
"Then why are you speaking to me like I am??"
"The truth can be hard to grapple with."
"I've seen Entity Alphas rip a human to shreds in seconds," you glare. "I've seen a Gamma boil my crewmate's skin off with their projectile acid venom. I've watched helplessly as Epsilons picked my crew off one by one, taking them alive and dragging them off to to god knows what kinds of horrors lay waiting in the nether. I assure you, whatever it is, I can handle it."
"That's not what I mean."
You swiftly draw your gun and aim it at Hoshi's forehead, switching the safety off.
"I don't appreciate you wasting my fucking time with your cryptic bullshit," you sneer. "Tell me whatever it is that's so important, or die. Your choice."
Hoshi laughs. An infuriatingly haughty chuckle, aggravated even further by the smug smirk spreading across his face. Your scowl deepens, but he just reclines in his chair, raising his hands and resting them behind his head, nonchalant and arrogant.
"Go ahead darling, shoot me," he shrugs. "I've wanted to blow my fucking brains out every single day for a very long time now. You'd only be doing me a favor. But just know that without me, you'll be dead within days."
Your jaw clenches. Unfortunately, you know he's probably right. You don't know how long Hoshi has been in Level 9, but if he's survived this long he certainly has knowledge that would be useful to you.
"Fine."
You switch the safety back on and lower your weapon.
"But call me darling again and I'm gonna start breaking fingers."
If your threat had any effect on him, his callous face shows no sign of it. Rising to his feet, he begins to quickly move to gather the documents on the table.
"For now I will give you a very basic rundown," he tells you, rolling the papers up and shoving them into a small metal canister retrieved from his pack. "But we can't risk staying here any longer. I'll tell you on the way to our next location. Grab any weapons you want," he instructs, pointing to the stockpile in the corner. "Good chance you'll need 'em."
You have dozens of burning questions, but you hold your tongue. You don't think Hoshi would answer any of them right now anyway.
"Anything I can do?" you inquire after arming yourself with an additional automatic rifle and several hand grenades.
"Collect the provisions from the kitchen," he orders as he folds up the safety blanket into his pack. "I'll be up in a minute."
You turn to head back up the stairs, but you are halted by Hoshi's hand grabbing your wrist. Turning to face him, his piercing eyes bore into yours.
"If anything looks out of place, run."
"What do you m—"
"I mean exactly that. Use your instincts. Your life depends on it now more than ever."
As much as you want to trust Hoshi, you don't. Something about him scares you. You're not sure what — but according to him, there's no time to stand around and think right now. It's either trust him, or fend for yourself. Neither is very appealing, but for the time being, you decide to do as he says.
"Understood," you reply bluntly. He releases your arm, and you proceed up the stairs.
As you saw before, there's not much in the cabinet. It takes you approximately thirty seconds to stow the provisions in your pack. You hear Hoshi's footsteps echoing as he climbs up the stairs; turning, you see him emerge from the dark basement, hauling his belongings and also wielding an automatic rifle. You're about to ask where it is exactly that you two are going, when you notice the houseplant in the hallway. It's a large fern, tall and leafy, and it definitely wasn't there before.
Hoshi's eyes dart to where yours are fixed, immediately registering the anomaly. He turns to tell you to run, but you have already bolted out the back door. He runs after you, following you as you kick down the fence gate with a single blow and bolt into the street.
"LEFT!" he shouts at your back. You turn left, sprinting down the center of the road off into the permanent suburban night. He's fast, advantaged by his height, but you're faster. He lengthens his strides, pushing onward, finally catching up to you at the next intersection.
"Stop!!" he orders, and you do. Back to back, you survey the streets around you. You're not entirely sure what it is you're looking for, but as far as you can see in every direction you find nothing. Intuition tells you you are safe — for now, at least.
"We're clear," Hoshi states. He lowers his gun a bit, but still grips it firmly. "For now."
He turns to face you, his sharp eyes locking onto you.
"You're very good at following orders," he says to you, but by the bitterness in his tone you can tell that it's not a compliment. He walks off, continuing straight down the same street.
You follow him for several blocks, walking a couple meters behind him without conversation, but you quickly begin to grow annoyed.
"What was that?"
"An Entity Zeta," he responds curtly, not bothering to turn around. You wait for him to elaborate, but of course he doesn't.
"And what exactly are the Zetas?" you inquire, speeding your pace to catch up to him. "What's their M.O.?"
His jaw clenches. "They're a hive mind," he answers bitterly. "A massive, interconnected colony of festering, insect-like creatures. Their M.O. is to stalk and ambush. They don't attack right away. They watch you, disguising themselves as familiar objects — waiting until you least expect it, striking when you're at your most vulnerable. If you feel safe for even a moment, you're not."
"And that houseplant was one of them."
"Yes."
"What would have happened?" you press. "If we hadn't ran away?"
"It would've erupted into a swarm of vermin and cleaned all the flesh off our bones within a minute tops."
"Oh."
"Yeah," he huffs. "'Oh' is right."
"Is there any way to fight back?"
"Depends how close they are. If they're too close, no. You either run or you're fucked. If they're further away, fire will deter them, but not for long. There's no true way of 'killing' them off — it'll just retreat back into the hive mind and regenerate."
"You say fire. Are grenades the best bet?"
"Grenades can be effective. But your best bet—" He slips his pack off his shoulder, pulling out an empty beer bottle with a rag sticking out of it. "Is one of these."
You raise your brow at the crude Molotov cocktail, but as you think about it it does makes a lot of sense.
"What do you use to ignite it?"
Hoshi reaches into the breast pocket of his cargo jacket, pulling out something small and tosses it at you. As you catch it, you see it's a matchbook.
"Here," he adds, extending the bottle in his hand to you. "Take this one."
You tuck the matchbook into your own pocket and slip the makeshift bomb into one of the external pockets on your pack.
"Thanks," you tell him amicably. "Hopefully I won't need it."
He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. He still wears the same scornful expression, but unless your eyes are deceiving you, it seems to have softened ever so slightly.
"You will."
You walk in silence again for a few moments. The question lingering on your mind nags at you, begging to be asked.
"Is your crew still around or is it just you?"
Hoshi stiffens. "Just me," he answers grimly.
"I'm sorry for your loss," you tell him sincerely, but he just scoffs. He continues onward, lips pursed tightly shut as he doesn't reply.
"Did they—"
"I don't want to talk about it," he sneers.
"Okay," you accept. "Sorry."
He says nothing. You go back to walking in silence.
At the next intersection, Hoshi turns right.
"Are we going to a specific location or are we just wandering until we find something?" you ask.
"Specific location. We're close."
You wonder if his bluntness is related to you bringing up his crew, ripping open a not-so-old wound. But in the short span of time you've known him, you've gathered this is just how he is.
"Here," he says a few blocks later, stopping in front of another perfectly nondescript house. He heads for the front door — you follow.
The house's interior is almost identical to the previous one you were in, bland and impersonal.
"I'll sweep upstairs. You take downstairs," he instructs, quickly disappearing up the stairs. You're not sure exactly what you're looking for, since the Zetas can apparently shape shift into anything, but you investigate anyway. The living room, dining room, kitchen, closets, and bathroom all seem fine. The last room to be checked sits behind a closed door; you swing it open, your gun at the ready — but you find nothing but an ordinary bedroom. You check its bathroom as well, but it too is clear.
Hoshi materializes in the doorway as you exit the bathroom.
"Upstairs is clear."
"Downstairs too," you inform him. "I can't believe this one has a real bed," you remark, a grin appearing on your face for the first time in god knows how long.
"They all do," he replies. You turn and give him a look.
"Then why were you sleeping in the basement in the other one?"
"It's not important."
You stare at him blankly for a moment, but then you just shrug.
"Well I'm sleeping here," you announce, plopping your pack down on the floor. "An actual bed, in the Backrooms. It's a goddamn miracle."
"Don't get too comfortable," Hoshi tells you dully, turning to exit the bedroom.
"Will we have to move again soon?" you inquire. He stops, looking back at you.
"It's likely."
"Is there a pattern to the Zetas' movement?" you ask, making him stop in his tracks again. He lets out a small sigh.
"Get some sleep," he says plainly, and then he leaves.
You're about to plop yourself on the bed and go right to sleep, but a thought crosses your mind. You step back into the bathroom, walking over to the shower and turning its knob. To your surprise, it actually turns on, an inviting stream of water spraying from the faucet.
"Holy shit," you mutter to yourself, a wide grin spreading across your face. You're about to begin undressing when an arm reaches from behind you and shuts the water off. You whip around abruptly, finding Hoshi's face hovering above yours. His broad stature towers over you — from this close up, he is even more intimidating than he already ways.
"What the hell?!" you bark at him.
"I told you," he glares down at you. "The Zetas will attack at your most vulnerable."
"I'll be fast."
"No," he insists, crossing his arms. "It's too risky."
"Oh come on," you groan. "I haven't taken a proper shower in ages. Let me have this."
"You're asking to get killed."
"Oh go fuck yourself," you roll your eyes, taking your shirt off anyway. Hoshi averts his eyes; you reach for the knob and turn the water back on. "I'll be five minutes."
"Fine," he grumbles. "I'll stand guard I fucking guess."
You're about to point out that you never asked him to do that, but you just shake your head. There's no point in arguing with him, it seems.
"Suit yourself."
He shuts the door behind him as he exits. You spend the next five minutes basking in the glory of a real, functioning shower. The water is cold, but you don't even care — as far as you're concerned this is the peak of luxury.
After, you exit the bathroom to retrieve the change of clothes from your pack. Sure enough, Hoshi is standing right outside the door; when he sees that you're naked, he quickly turns away.
"Could've given me a fucking warning," he mumbles under his breath.
"Sorry," you say uninterestedly as you get dressed again. "I wasn't about to put those filthy clothes back on."
"I'm dressed now," you announce about a minute later.
"Great."
He starts to walk out of the room when you grab him by the shoulder.
"You should take a shower, too."
"I'm fine," he responds, trying to walk away, but you cling to his shirt, yanking at it to spin him back around.
"Take a fucking shower," you glare at him. "Give me your gun, I'll be on watch."
He grits his teeth, but to your surprise he stomps back into the bathroom.
"I'm not giving you my gun. Use your own."
The door slams shut behind him. You grin as you hear the water turn back on, picking up your weapon and stationing yourself beside the door.
Eight minutes later the ambient rush of the water dissipates. Hoshi appears a few moments later, marching out of the bathroom and making a beeline for the door. You consider teasing him for taking so long, but you are promptly distracted by his stark lack of clothing. He wears only his underwear and headband, the rest of his clothes balled up in his fist sopping wet as he walks out of the room. It was clear from the moment you met him that he had a strong build — but seeing him shirtless, water droplets beading down his back between the crevices of his muscles, very much takes you by surprise.
"See? Wasn't that nice?" you call out to him. He turns back around, his thick pectorals also glistening with water despite the darkness of the room. He stares at you intensely, but the harshness which you've grown accustomed to from him has seemed to mellow slightly.
"Goodnight, Commander l/n," he says calmly, exiting the room and closing the door behind him.
You wake about eight hours later. Level 9 has no daylight, so there's no such thing as a true morning — but for the first time in months you actually feel refreshed. You don't know when was the last time you slept this long in one go. Certainly well before your time in the Backrooms.
You find Hoshi in the kitchen, eating beans straight from a can. He still wears a deeply wearied look, but he too seems like he slept well.
"I was just about to wake you," he states, extending the can of beans to you. "You should eat."
You gladly accept the can of beans, spooning a large bite into your mouth.
"I don't know when the last time I had real food was," you comment gleefully as you chew. "All I have left is the dehydrated powder shit and calorie pills."
"We seem to have been the last crew sent in with canned goods," he tells you. "The Company shifted to processed nutrient provisions after us. Cheap bastards."
Your lips twitch into a grin. Getting a full night's rest has seemingly done wonders for the man's demeanor. You consider commenting on it, but you figure he wouldn't appreciate that very much, and the last thing you want to do is piss him off even a little. But, you do still have about a thousand questions for him.
"What were they like?" you ask, treading carefully. "Your crew. You haven't told me much about them."
Hoshi tenses up, a cold expression washing over his face.
"I don't see how it's relevant."
"Okay," you nod acceptingly, not wanting to aggravate him. "How about you then?"
He narrows his eyes at you, confused. "What about me?"
"I don't know, anything. What's your rank?"
"What's it to you?" he cocks his head at you.
"Just trying to make conversation, damn. Sorry," you spit. Irritated, you turn to walk away. You're nearly out of the kitchen when he decides to answer.
"First Officer," he says, his voice less harsh this time. You turn back around; he's still staring at you sternly, but he no longer seems hostile.
"Oh shit, really?" you ask, surprised but interested. "Me too."
"I thought you were Commander," he frowns, wondering if you lied to him before.
"Only after an Epsilon got our initial Commander," you reply, trying not to relive that memory too much.
"Oh. I see," he says quietly, accepting your answer.
"But I suppose rank doesn't mean much of anything anymore," you comment neutrally. "Not when you're the last remaining crewmate."
"I suppose not."
"Well, First Officer Hoshi," you say as you finish off the beans. "What's our course of action for today?"
Hoshi lets out a bewildered laugh. You raise your brow at him, but he just shakes his head.
"Hoshi isn't my real name," he explains. "We all had nicknames, me and my crew."
"What is your name, then?" you ask, genuinely curious, but the minute amount of warmth present in his face quickly fades.
"That's not important."
"That seems to be your answer for everything."
"That's because most things are no longer important," he responds coolly. "Not if you're to survive Level 9."
With that, he departs the kitchen. You sigh. It's exasperating dealing with Hoshi — but you decide to follow him.
"You didn't answer my question," you remind him as you join him in the dining room. He is sitting at the table, notebooks and tablets and maps strewn across its surface just as they were in the previous house's basement.
"What question?"
"I asked you what our course of action is."
"Our course of action is to not die," he states.
You roll your eyes. "Yeah, no shit. I mean, is there anything I can do to help?"
"No."
"That can't possibly be true."
He glances up at you, sharp eyes locking into your gaze. Every time, it's intimidating.
"You don't have the intel needed to be of use here."
He says it matter-of-factly, without contempt, but you're still irked by his unintentional rudeness.
"Well, you could fill me in," you suggest, but he just waves his hand at you dismissively.
"That would take too long."
"It's not like we have anything else to do!" you point out, growing annoyed.
"Fine! Here," he barks, grabbing a handful of the maps and shoving them toward you. "Study these."
"Thank you," you say curtly, snatching them from his hand and marching out of the room.
You spend the next few hours studying Hoshi's maps of Level 9. For the most part, they are incomprehensible, and you genuinely start to wonder if he might just be insane. Eventually you bury your head in your hands, groaning with frustration. A few moments later, you sense movement, coming from behind you. You reach for your gun and jump to your feet, swiveling around and pointing the weapon, but it's just Hoshi.
"Fucking hell, don't sneak up on me like that!" you chastise him.
"Apologies." He extends to you an additional piece of paper; you take it, seeing an assortment of keys, diagrams, and notes. "This should help you understand the maps better."
"Gee, thanks, this would've been really helpful several hours ago," you say sardonically as you scan the sheet.
"I made it just now."
"Oh," you reply, lifting your gaze to meet his. "Well, thank you."
He gives you a single nod, spinning on his heel and retreating back to the dining room.
With Hoshi's new notes, you're quickly able to start making sense of the maps. What had previously looked like the scribblings of a madman turn into a vastly complex mathematical schematic depiction of the known areas of Level 9. You're still on the fence about whether the man is insane, but one thing becomes very clear: he's a fucking genius.
A few more hours and your brain is aching from overuse. When the maps start to become convoluted, you decide to call it quits. You gather the papers and return them to Hoshi in the dining room; he's in the exact same spot he was hours ago, poring over some sort of document on his tablet.
"Thank you for the notes," you tell him as you set the maps on one of the few empty spots on the tabletop. "They really helped me start to make sense of things."
"You're welcome," Hoshi replies, the polite words feeling awkward rolling off his tongue. It's been a long time since he's had a casual conversation with anybody that didn't involve giving or receiving orders.
"I'm going to sleep now," you inform him.
"Okay."
"Goodnight, Hoshi," you say cordially.
He simply nods. You figure that's about as much as you're going to get out of him; as you walk out of the room, you hear his voice echo calmly from behind you.
"Goodnight."
As you sleep you have a nightmare.
It's a recurring one — one you've been having for a while now. In it, you're wielding a gun, but it's not like the ones you carry with you in the Backrooms. It's a .45 handgun, and you're frantically reloading it as you crouch behind something that resembles a desk. Your hands are shaky and covered in blood, but it doesn't appear to be yours. A curly-haired man is perched beside you, reloading his own pistol. He's wounded, appearing to have been grazed by a bullet in the arm, one of his glasses lenses half-shattered, but he appears determined; he signals to you to advance.
"Go!! I'll cover you!" he mutters to you under his breath.
"I don't feel very good about this anymore," you reply, cocking your gun. He looks at you somberly, but you can tell he understands.
"Me neither," he says, then smiles at you. "If I don't see you again, it's been a pleasure working with you."
You grin back. "Likewise," you reply.
"On my signal," he tells you. You take a deep breath, shifting to prepare yourself to make a run for it.
"Three… two… one… GO!!!"
You jump to your feet and hurdle yourself over the desk, coming face to face with three men in full riot gear and guns much bigger and scarier than yours. A shot rings out from behind you as your companion shoots at the nearest one — he hits him, and the armed man collapses to the ground. You manage to yank the ballistic shield out of his hands as you pass, wielding it as you sprint toward the emergency exit that the remaining two men are blocking. You hold your fire, focusing on protecting yourself from their bullets with the shield. To your surprise you manage to make it all the way to them without getting hit. You shoot one of them in the leg as you ram the other with the shield as hard as you can — it's enough to knock him over slightly, giving you a chance to shoot at him once before you throw yourself against the door. It opens into a maintenance hallway, its concrete walls and flooring sallowly lit by sparse fluorescent lighting. You bolt toward the left, running as fast as you possibly can muster, hoping to escape before they come after you; but the hallway is vast and open, with no places to hide. Suddenly you are surrounded, flanked by a dozen armed men who seemed to materialize from the walls. One of them shoves you to the ground, your knees slamming into the floor. A siren wails hauntingly in the distance, your ears pound with the rushing blood coursing through your veins, your breathing harsh and erratic. You hear the sound of a rifle cocking into position behind your head, and then—
"Commander! Wake up!"
You bolt upright, finding yourself in the bedroom again. Hoshi hovers above the bed, staring down at you— a menacing sight to wake up to, but not worse than the dream you were having.
"We have to go," he tells you urgently. "Pack your shit as fast as you can."
You don't question him. The alarm in his voice is enough to light a fire under you, and within a minute you've gathered your things. Hoshi reappears in the doorway as you finish lacing your boots.
"Come on," he orders. You hurry after him, following him out the front door into the never-ending suburban night. You run for several blocks, turning down a new street a few times, but soon he begins to slow his pace.
"We should be safe now," he tells you. "But don't let your guard down."
He continues, walking along the sidewalk with his weapon at the ready.
"There's another house nearby. We'll be there soon."
You nod, walking beside him silently for a minute or two.
"How do you know where to go?" you decide to ask. "Like how do you know where is safe?"
He turns, facing you as he speaks. You notice that this is the first time he's done so.
"I've been tracking Zeta movement for long enough now that I can recognize their patterns," he explains. "Once one is activated in one area, there seems to be a recovery period before they can strike within the vicinity again. They also seem to stick to certain paths, though I have no idea why. I assume it has to do with the physical logistics of the hive mind network."
"Damn, you're really fucking smart," you tell him. "Not that I thought you were stupid," you add.
"I used to be an engineer," he replies gruffly.
"What?! How did you end up in a tactical unit then?"
He lets out a bitter laugh. "That's a long story. We turn left here."
"I'm all ears," you try, following him as he turns down the next street.
"Maybe later, when we—"
He stops in his tracks, thrusting his hand out in front of you and forcing you to halt too. Ahead of you are several dozen mailboxes — the blue collection receptacles that you would typically find at a street corner. It occurs to you that you've never seen a mailbox in Level 9 before, but these aren't just posted on the sidewalk — they're on the sidewalks, in the yards, in the middle of the street. All of them seeming to be turned toward you, facelessly staring you down with sinister intent.
"Shit," Hoshi hisses as he frantically reaches for one of the grenades clipped to his pack. He pulls the pin with his teeth and launches it toward the nearest cluster of mailboxes, but it doesn't go off. You reach for the grenades on your own pack, but as you do so one of the blue boxes close to you begins to turn into static, coming to life in a festering swarm and growing tall and sprawling and disgusting. You toss your first grenade, swinging your rifle back into your hands and firing into the mass. It seems to hinder it slightly, making it squeal, but the explosion of the grenade does significantly more damage. It begins to retreat into itself, but two others near Hoshi start to shift into their true form. His second grenade goes off, holding them off momentarily as they let out a grating screech, but the rest of the Zetas are already activating. Remembering the bottle Hoshi had given you, you grab it from your pack.
"Cover me!!" you shout to him as you kneel. Setting the bottle on the ground you reach into your pocket, digging around for the matchbook. Hoshi fires a stream of bullets into the Zeta currently charging toward you; you almost panic, unable to find the matches, but finally your fingers locate the small paper packet. You pry one of the matches off and strike it, holding it to the rag sticking out of the bottle. For a horrible moment you're not sure there's even anything flammable inside it — but giving it a good shake you hear something sloshing around in there. Saying a silent prayer you try the match again, and this time it ignites. A fucking miracle.
"Incoming!!!" you yell to Hoshi. He ducks, and you throw the Molotov cocktail as hard as you can toward the center of the largest cluster of Zetas. The bottle shatters on impact with the pavement, igniting into a massive fireball and engulfing the Entities. The flames spread quickly to the others, extracting a cacophonous symphony of horrible screeches as they all begin to burn — the one weakness of being a hive mind, you suppose.
"RUN!!" Hoshi screams. He takes off in the opposite direction, with you sprinting right behind him. As you dash across the intersection you hear a thunderous BOOOOOOOOM bellow out from behind you. The sound of the Zetas' awful squeals swells, and then disappears, returning the street into silence aside from the crackling of the spreading fire and the pounding of you and Hoshi's boots upon the pavement. You steal a glance back, but there's no mailboxes or Zetas in sight — just the flames lighting up the block with an ominous orange glow.
"Are we clear?" you ask Hoshi through labored breaths. He slows down, walking now instead of running. Turning to look behind him, he nods approvingly.
"Yeah, we're good."
"For now," you add.
"For now," he agrees.
"Where to now?" you inquire as he continues down the street, seeming to know exactly where he's going. He lets out a long sigh.
"My crew's original base camp is not far," he says bitterly. His tone sounds reluctant, and you get the sense he does not want to return to this location — but he knows it's the smartest option.
You turn right a few blocks later, and the base camp comes into view. The tall makeshift fence surrounding the house makes it glaringly obvious where you're headed.
"Damn," you comment as you and Hoshi approach the gate, staring up in awe at what looks to be like electrical wiring rigged on top of and all over the scrapped-together fencing. "This is impressive."
Hoshi doesn't reply. He fiddles with the gate's crude latch, letting the both of you in and shutting it again behind you.
"Let's see if we can light this shit back up," he mutters, stepping up to the tangled assembly of wires beside the gate. He fiddles with it for a minute, a low humming sound filling the air as the electricity comes back on. You look at him in amazement; he gives you a slight smirk.
"I told you, engineer," he says nonchalantly, brushing past you and heading into the house.
You were expecting another lifeless interior, like the past houses, but your eyes widen with surprise as you step through the door. The house does have the same style of bland furnishings as seen before, but scattered everywhere are various belongings: clothes strewn over the couch, papers and notebooks atop the coffee table and floor, empty cans and rations packs discarded haphazardly all around. Most prominent though are the spray painted walls — playful graffiti scribbled alongside what appears to be basic map outlines. You realize you haven't seen this much color, this much life, in a long fucking time; the thought nearly makes you emotional, but you quickly shake it off.
"Do you mind if I sleep now?" you question.
"Sure," Hoshi responds, dropping his pack in the middle of the room and plopping himself onto the couch. "We'll be safe here for a while."
"Great," you reply with a relieved grin, excited at the prospect of getting to sleep in a bed again. You head toward the door that appears to be the master bedroom.
"No!!" Hoshi shouts as you go to open the door. He leaps off the couch and gets between you and the doorway, blocking you from entering.
"Don't fucking touch it," he spits angrily.
"Okay, okay!" you say as you swiftly back up, raising your hands in the air apologetically. "I won't, I'm sorry."
He's glaring at you, but his face quickly drops, his irate expression shifting into one of sorrow.
"Take the room with the blue door upstairs," he orders you quietly. "At the end of the hall."
"Okay," you agree gently. As you turn to go up the staircase, you hear him sigh deeply.
"It was my Commander's room."
You look back over your shoulder. Hoshi stands before the door still, arms crossed and staring down at the floor.
"Were you close?" you ask softly.
"Yes."
"I'm sorry," you tell him with sincerity. He nods, saying nothing. You stand there for a few more moments, watching him, wondering if you should say anything else. But you don't; you continue up the stairs without another word, leaving him be.
Sure enough, the room at the end of the hallway sits behind a door spray-painted bright blue. You enter, finding a standard looking bedroom covered in a similar disarray to what was present downstairs. Even with the mess, it feels surprisingly cozy.
You drop your bag to the ground, removing your boots and flopping onto the bed. You're asleep before you can even bother getting under the covers.
As usual, you wake up to darkness. You never thought you would miss daylight this much, but the lack of distinction between day and night in the Backrooms, quite frankly, fucking sucks.
You decide to go downstairs to get something to eat. As you drag yourself out of bed, you see something flutter off the nightstand and onto the floor. You pick up the small piece of paper; it's very wrinkled, edges tattered and slightly torn, but you see that it's a photo. Flipping it over, you see a group of eight people, bright faces smiling with enthusiasm and laughter. Many are holding beer bottles, raising them to the camera with cheers. Hoshi's face pops out to you immediately, but the huge beaming grin on his face makes him looks drastically different, as does the distinct lack of scarring across his cheek. One man in the middle of the group seems to be the central focus of the photo — he holds a cake with lit candles on it, the others pointing at him gleefully.
This must be his crew, you think to yourself. You figure the man in the middle is probably his Commander; it appears to have been his birthday in the photo. You tuck the photo into your pocket, careful not to rip it any further.
Traipsing down the stairs, you spot Hoshi crashed face down into the couch, fast asleep. Carefully you wake up him, patting at his shoulder gently. He flies off the couch, making you nearly jump out of your skin.
"Fucking hell!" you instinctively shout in reaction. Calmer, you add "It's just me."
Hoshi stands before you, looking frazzled, the bandana around his head askew and partially covering one of his eyes. He blinks, realizing you are not a threat. He relaxes slightly, adjusting the headband back into place and sitting back down on the couch with a thump.
"Sorry," he mutters, a yawn overtaking him.
"It's fine. Why didn't you sleep in a bed?" you inquire.
"You were in my bed," he states plainly.
"What?" you say with a laugh. "There's more beds in this house—"
"The couch is fine," he insists firmly. You roll your eyes, but you don't press it any further.
An unopened can of what appears to be beef chili sitting on a nearby shelf catches your eye.
"Mind if I open this?" you ask Hoshi, showing him the can. "We can share."
His face seems to lighten up at the prospect of something besides beans or nutrient powder. "Fine with me," he nods, getting up and walking into the next room. "Here, there's probably some utensils in the kitchen still."
He returns with a very bent metal spoon and a fork that is missing a prong. You sit at opposite ends of the couch, passing the can of chili back and forth as you eagerly devour it.
"As far as I'm concerned," you say, breaking the silence as you shovel a spoonful of the stew into your mouth, "this is a gourmet fucking meal."
Hoshi takes the can as you hand it to him. It disappears in a flash, but the briefest hint of a grin appears on his face for a split second.
"Can I ask you about your crew?" you say delicately after a minute or so of silence. You know it's clearly sensitive topic for him, but you have a feeling he might be more open to talking about them now that he seems to trust you at least a little bit.
Hoshi stares down at the can in his hand, mindlessly stirring the chili with his fork.
"I'm not sure why you want to know about them so bad," he says quietly.
You consider whether you should for a moment, but you decide to ask him about the photo. Carefully removing it from your pocket, you show him the tattered photograph. His expression changes, the coldness disappearing from his face, replaced by wistfulness and regret.
"I found this in your room. I assume this is them?"
He takes it from you, staring at the eight smiling faces in the photo.
"Yeah, that's them."
"This was from before your expedition," you comment, looking at him for confirmation. He gives you a small nod. The room falls silent again, and you accept that that's the most you're probably ever going to get out of him. You start to get up, figuring you should leave him alone.
"It was the week before we set out."
You freeze. Sitting back into the couch, you look over at him again. He's still staring at the picture.
"It was our Commander's 30th birthday," he continues. "His name was Laughlin, but we all called him Blaze. He accidentally started a fire once in the middle of a training course, and the name stuck."
A smile appears on Hoshi's face. It's subtle, but it's a real, genuine smile.
"Tell me about your past," he says, turning to face you.
"My past?" you respond, thrown off by the sudden request. "Um, well I started out at Axiom training in the Research Department, but then I was switched over to Tactical—"
"No," Hoshi cuts you off. "I don't mean that. I mean before Axiom."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean what you did prior to joining the Company. Your job, your hobbies, your family, anything."
"Well, I…" you start to tell him, but your mind spins. You rack your brain, trying to picture your life before all this, but you're completely drawing a blank.
"I… can't remember?" you say quietly. You think about your parents, your mom, your dad. You know they exist — so why can't you picture their faces? You try to think about your siblings, but did you even have any? You don't know.
Your heart starts to pound in your chest. You jump to your feet, beginning to pace around the room.
"Why can't I remember?" you whisper, barely audible. You suddenly feel very dizzy.
"It's okay, don't panic," he tells you calmly. But it's too late — your chest has already tightened, and you feel like you're going to throw up. You don't know what else to do, so you bolt upstairs.
"Commander!" Hoshi calls after you, but with your heartbeat pounding in your ears you barely hear him. You run back into the bedroom, slamming the blue door shut behind you. You fall to the ground, your back to the door as you try to steady your breathing. You don't ever remember having panic attacks before, but then again you apparently don't remember anything at all.
You hear the doorknob turn above your head. Hoshi tries to open the door, but it doesn't budge with you slumped against it. He pounds on the door, the knocks thumping against your back.
"Let me in," he insists, but you barely even hear him. He sighs, turning the knob again and forcing the door open with his body weight. It opens enough for him to slip inside; he picks you up off the ground, lifting you with ease and carrying you across the room. He sets you on the bed, sitting down beside you.
"Hey, breathe," he instructs, shaking you gently but firmly. It brings you back to reality a bit; your eyes are able to focus on your surroundings again. "Take a deep breath, you're starting to hyperventilate."
You do as he says, inhaling and exhaling slowly several times. Finally, the panic dissipates. You turn to look at Hoshi beside you.
"Why can't I remember?" you ask again, your voice wavering. He sighs.
"It's a long story, but I'll explain. Do you remember what you told me about Axiom's history before?"
You nod. That was only a few days prior, but it feels like ages ago.
"Well, most of everything you said is true. But there's more — secrets they kept from you and me and almost everybody. There's a reason you don't remember anything about your past: nobody does. And there's good reason for it. Because if the truth got out, the Company would go down in flames."
"That's what you said before, 'the truth'," you recall.
"I wasn't lying when I said it's a tough pill to swallow," he reminds you. "I didn't want to believe it at first, either. But it all goes back to the initial discovery of the Backrooms. It was an accident, a byproduct of a top-secret government experiment conducted as part of research efforts to create a new weapon of mass destruction — one that would make the atomic bomb look like child's play. Word got out, spreading to various government agencies, and people were pissed. Almost everyone opposed the development of the new bomb, so they said they were halting the research. But they lied. A whistleblower eventually exposed them, leading to a massive strike amongst the scientists and engineers working on classified government projects. But the government didn't budge — they executed the whistleblower, hoping to instill fear that would lead to compliance, but it backfired. It instigated an uprising, the scientists and researchers fighting back, but despite their numbers they were no match for the militarized response units. Those who weren't killed were imprisoned and forced into menial labor. That's when Axiom comes along — the 'wealthy donors' it boasts of as its founders were on the government's payroll. The Company was founded as a ruse, pretending to be a neutral third party purely interested in the research, but they quickly rounded up the prisoners to use for their dirty work. But even with brute force and violence, the scientists refused to work. They knew they couldn't just kill them all off — they were far too valuable of assets. So they came up with an alternative solution: implant a neural chip in everyone's heads. The chip repressed memories, and with that they had a blank slate of brilliant minds to brainwash into compliance. Those who were least valuable were sent into the Backrooms first, guinea pigs sent off to their deaths. Once the imprisoned scientists were milked of their knowledge and no longer useful for research purposes, they shipped them off to training for the tactical units to send on their little expeditions. Smart, obedient, but also disposable — it was the perfect source of labor for the job."
You stare blankly at Hoshi, processing everything he just told you. I was right, you think to yourself. He is actually insane.
"You don't believe me," he observes.
"How do you expect me to believe… all that?? This is ridiculous."
"Think about it," he insists. "What other explanation could there be for you not remembering anything pre-Axiom?"
"I don't know!" you shout in frustration, rising to your feet as you begin to pace again. "But surely there's a much more likely explanation than that—"
Hoshi stands, grabbing your shoulder and spinning you back around to face him. He glares down at you, an intense fiery gaze, as he grasps onto your wrists tightly. Your heart begins to pound again in fear — you're stuck here, deep in the fucking Backrooms, in the clutch of a crazy delusional man. What if he kills you? What if this is the end?
He raises your right hand to your head, pressing your fingers into your scalp above your right ear. As he pushes further, you feel something… sharp. It's small, but you wince as it nearly pricks your finger.
"There's your truth," he says quietly. You stare up at him, wide-eyed with disbelief.
"How… how did you figure this out?"
He lets go of your right hand; with his free hand he removes the bandana tied around his forehead, sliding if off his head and dropping it to the floor.
"Look," he says, tilting his head to the side. You let out a soft gasp. Above his right ear, previously concealed by the bandana, is a large, deep gash. It's old enough to be mostly healed, thick scar tissue filling in the wound, but you can tell it's still somewhat recent.
"What happened?" you whisper.
"An Alpha tried to rip my head off," he smirks. "I was fast enough to avoid death, but it still got me pretty good."
He lifts your left hand, drawing it in to the scar. You resist, trying to pull your hand away, but he doesn't let go.
"It's okay, it doesn't hurt," he assured you. "In fact I can't even feel anything there."
He guides your fingers into a groove in the healed skin. As he presses them into his head you feel a similar sharp sensation, but smaller, and more of them.
"I guess it hit me just right," he says with a slight huff of a laugh. "It broke the chip, and suddenly I remembered everything. I was free again. Except, of course I'm not really. I'm still stuck in this fucking hellscape. Some days I wish I had never learned the truth — it would be less painful that way."
The truth. You think back to your recurring dream. What if it wasn't a dream at all, but a memory?
You suddenly realize how close you are to him right now. It should be far too intimate, but you don't want to move for a second.
"Did you tell your crew?" you ask him.
"Yes. Fortunately, they believed me. One by one we helped each other remove the chips. None of us were surgeons, so that part was a bit rough," he grimaces. "But once they were gone, they too remembered everything. The only—"
He stops himself. That part isn't important, you don't need to know about it. But for some reason, he decides to tell you anyway.
"The only member of our crew who didn't remove their chip was Blaze."
"Your Commander," you affirm softly. He nods. "Why not?"
"I don't know," he admits. "I don't know much about his past — but think some part of his unconscious mind remembered something, something too painful experience all over again. I tried to convince him several times, but he didn't want to. So I respected that. But then we made it to Level 9. We'd only lost one crew member up until that point, but the Zetas started to pick us off one by one. Before long, it was just him and I left. He told me he decided he wanted to remove his chip. I was going to do it that night, once we got back to base camp, but he didn't make it back."
Without thinking, you cradle his face in your palm. He inhales sharply, looking into your eyes with equal parts surprise and want.
"I'm so sorry," you whisper. He reaches up to take your wrist in his grasp again, rubbing his thumb slowly over the back of your hand. His eyes close as his head drops, his forehead falling against yours.
"You don't have to be sorry," he mutters. Opening his eyes again, he meets your gaze. Your heart palpitates in your chest, the intimacy making you ache with need. Then, you kiss him.
Your lips crash into his, leaving him momentarily stunned, but quickly his hands drop to your sides, grasping at your waist urgently as he kisses you back. Your hands cling to his face as you press your body into him; he lets out a soft moan into your mouth, making your core throb. His arms squeeze around your torso, drawing you in as close as possible, hands wandering desperately as he eagerly explores every curve of your body. You wrap your arms around his head, clinging to him as you grind against him.
"Fuck," he groans against your lips. Suddenly you are lifted in the air as he picks you up, carrying you back to the bed where he lays you down gently. He crawls on top of you; your legs instinctively open, wrapping around his hips as he presses his weight into you. You pull him back into a kiss, hungrily tugging at his lips once more. You push your hips up against him, your center greeted by a stiffening bulge and drawing another moan out of him.
You sigh as his mouth wanders to your chin, kissing along your jawline up to your earlobe and nipping at it; his lips return to your neck, planting soft, slow pecks into the delicate skin as he works his way down to your collarbone. Your soft whines are driving him insane already; he abruptly sits up, taking off his shirt. He reaches for yours as well, prying it over your head and dropping it to the floor. He makes quick work of your bra, discarding it aside and immediately grasping at your breasts, tugging and kneading the soft flesh in his hands while pinching your nipples between his fingers.
"You're amazing, so fucking hot," he praises. He steals another kiss before hopping up and tugging at your waistband. You hurriedly unbutton your pants, wriggling out of them as he follows suit. As he slips his pants down his thighs his cock comes into view, erect and red with anticipation; the mere sight of it makes your mouth water.
He reaches for your bare pussy as he lays down beside you; you whine softly as his fingers discover the pooling wetness present between your legs.
"God, you're so fucking wet, fuck…"
You let out a moan as his fingers slip inside you, lazily working them in and out of your pussy, your slick collecting on his hand and glistening in the dim lighting.
"That's it, let me hear you baby," he encourages. You let go, moaning unrestrained as you let your hips rock to his touch, grinding your clit against the heel of his hand. It feels incredible, like you never want him to stop touching you.
"Fuck," he hisses through gritted teeth. He leans over, licking your nipple with the tip of his tongue. He starts to swirl his tongue around it, eliciting a string of whimpering from you, curling his fingertips to press against your g-spot.
"Oh my god," you groan, your head falling back onto the pillow.
"So pretty, so perfect," he croons, switching to your other nipple, wetting it with his saliva and dragging his tongue in circles around the bud.
"Feels so good," you mutter breathily, your body writhing as a burning heat swells in your gut.
"Go on, cum for me baby, I wanna see."
He wraps his lips around your nipple, latching on as he sucks on it, his hand speeding its pace. You feel your release wash over you, whining as you cum on his fingers, their deep strokes sending thick pulses of pleasure through your whole body. He slows as you do, releasing his mouth from your breast and lifting his head so he can kiss you again, long and slow, so he can savor it. He slips his fingers out of you, sticking them in his mouth and lapping up your juices, moaning at the taste of you.
You've barely caught your breath when he rolls over on top of you. His tip brushes against your wet cunt; he strokes it up and down over your folds a few times before pressing into your entrance. His cock slips inside, making you gasp, slowly filling you with his whole length.
"Ready?" he asks softly. You nod eagerly, eyes begging him to fuck you. He drags his cock out of you, almost all the way, then plunges it back in, watching himself disappear inside you. The sight is tantalizing, but his eyes meet yours again, falling deep into your gaze as he fucks you with slow, measured strokes. Your arms snake around his torso, clinging to the warm skin of his back as he presses his forehead into yours, his breath becoming more labored with each accelerating thrust. Your shift your hips forward, allowing his cock to reach even deeper inside you, eliciting a string of moans from your throat.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he whispers, lips hovering above yours as his eyes remained locked with yours. "Never wanna leave this pussy."
"Please don't stop," you beg, voice breathy and desperate.
"I won't baby."
He fucks you with burning desire, each powerful stroke sending a delicious shockwave through your body. You cling to him tight, drawing him in even further into a passionate embrace. He groans, savoring the divine way your body squishes against his.
"You're amazing," he mutters into your mouth, frantic kisses placed upon your lips as he tries not to cum just yet — but it's an impossible feat. "Such a perfect little pussy, gonna fill you up baby. Gonna make you nice and full with my cum."
"Please," you whine.
"Keep begging for it, pretty girl," he hums, beginning to lose composure.
"I want your cum," you plead. "Want you to cum inside me and fill me up."
"God, that's so fucking hot," he growls.
"Your cock feels so good," you continue babbling, mind spinning so much you can no longer think straight. "I want you to fuck me every day for the rest of my life."
"I will, baby, I will."
His hand caresses your cheek, rubbing at the warm skin with his thumb as he stares into your watering eyes — utterly intoxicated by you.
"I'm cumming," he groans. "Ohhhh…"
With a series of grunts he releases, powerful ropes of cum shooting up into you as his cock throbs against your squeezing walls. After several bursts he slows, his cock stilling deep inside your cunt as his heavy breaths fall against your lips. He collapses, laying his weight on you as he tucks his head into the crook of your neck. You drag your fingertips up and down his back, delicately dancing across his hot skin and rippling muscles.
"Fuck," he mumbles into the mattress, making you smile. He eventually lifts his head up, kissing you again. "You're incredible."
He slowly pulls his cock out of you, rolling over to your side taking you in his arms. He rests his hand on your belly, planting gentle kisses on your cheek as he holds you.
"Tell me your name," he hums softly into your ear after a few silent minutes.
"It's y/n," you reply, falling into a deep relaxation in his embrace. "Tell me your name."
"Soonyoung," he says quietly.
You lay together, the uncomfortable silence of Level 9 forgotten as the sounds of your breathing and the thumps of your heartbeats fill the air. Eventually, you're unsure whether he's fallen asleep beside you.
"Do you ever think we'll get out of here?" you try anyway.
"No," he replies plainly.
"Why keep going then?"
He thinks for a while. "I don't know," he finally says. "I've been stuck in here so long that this is all I know anymore."
"Do you dream of going back, to your life before?"
You feel him shake his head. "Those are such distant memories at this point. Sometimes I don't even know if they are real or if it's all in my head."
You think back to before, when you questioned whether he was insane and delusional. You think you believe him, about Axiom, about the chip in your head — though, something inside you still isn't entirely convinced. But you're not even sure if any of that matters at this point.
"But it doesn't matter," he continues. "I'm here now, and I can't go back. The only way is forward."
"Does that mean you're trying to find Level 10?" you ask.
"I know where a Null Zone is," he replies.
Surprised, you turn to look at him. "Why haven't you gone yet?"
He sighs. "I lost hope after my I lost my crew. I didn't want to walk further into hell by myself. But I couldn't bring myself to end it all either — so here I am, stuck here in limbo."
You gaze at him, a soft smile appearing on your face. He stares back at you, hopeful.
"I'll go with you," you say quietly. He smiles again — another true smile. You think it suits him well.
you and soonyoung always fight in college; the truth is, the man was unbearable. you lived in a far from silent rivalry, fueled by grades and praise from professors, that bordered on pathetic—it always had been. but, curiously, during this week you hadn't heard a single joke, a single provocation. it was strange.
and you would blame the alcohol, of course you would, but when you saw him drinking a beer at seokmin's party, you couldn't help but wonder why the blond was being so indifferent towards you...
“can we talk?” you asked.
hoshi was surprised by the sound of your voice, but tried to hide it. he crossed his arms in a defensive posture, trying to understand what the hell you were doing there at that moment... and why the hell you looked so hot with your skirt showing a bit of your butt cheeks.
"talk," he murmured, his voice as hoarse as before. "but not here." hoshi guided you to a secluded corner of the house, a place where the noise from the party was still loud, but you could at least hear each other. he leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and gave you a penetrating look. "so?" he asked dryly. "just tell me, i don't have all night here."
"i know we were never friends, but... look... we don't even fight anymore."
hoshi's brow furrowed slightly as he stared at you with his cold gaze. he let out a low grumble in response to your words.
"you think that just because i haven't fought with you for a few weeks, suddenly we're friends?"
"what? no way, i didn't say that! damn it, you're unbearable, and stupid too!" you were stressed by how he didn't even bother trying to understand what you were saying. damn, he was a complete jerk.
"watch your fucking mouth!" he reprimanded you, which was kind of funny. "i'll tell you again: we're not friends, colleagues, or anything like what you're thinking."
"you know what, fuck it, i don't want to be your friend. i was worried about you, you fucking virgin!"
okay, you could have called him something better than 'virgin,' or maybe not... the little word made you feel his eyes burn, and his jaw clench and teeth grind. it was so easy to irritate hoshi that it seemed like a joke.
"don't. you. dare. call. me. that."
and you laughed, you missed annoying hoshi these past few weeks, and he had given you the perfect cue.
"why not, virgin?"
"if you don't shut the fuck up right now, i'll shut it up for you myself, idiot."
"will you?" you laughed. "and how are you gonna do that?"
"do you wanna find out?" he practically growled, and in a matter of seconds his hand grabbed your waist and pulled you into the bathroom, locking you both in there.
"what the hell—" hoshi stared at you angrily. you knew he wouldn't hurt you there, yet the atmosphere was still dark...
but you would never lose your composure.
"virgin"
and he kissed you, angrily, fiercely. there was no difference between hoshi's kiss and a slap; his lips hurt yours, his body leaning in more and more. he was gonna devour you, swallow you alive.
and you moaned.
"i'm gonna prove to you how wrong you are," and he kissed you again, his hot tongue invading your mouth and making you lose control of everything, his thick hand gripping your neck while the other held your waist, making you sigh.
and you didn't even realize how, but you felt two of his fingers. invading your pussy angrily.
he growled when he felt how tight and wet you were, the sound making you even more disoriented while he didn't even stop kissing you, any moan you tried to make was swallowed by hoshi who seemed to be trying to devour you.
"already wet? this little pussy is squeezing me all over."
"f-fuck," you groaned, still trying to process everything that was happening.
"look at me." he inserted another finger. "look at me, fuck!" he grabbed your jaw, his fingers still working at a speed that seemed determined to destroy you. "i'm gonna fuck you right here. i'm gonna shove my cock in you right here in this bathroom, and when you're moaning like a slut, i want you to remember exactly what you called me."
he kissed you again, desperate, possessive, he seemed hungry, and you could only moan. the kisses moved down to your neck and his fingers came out of you, making you groan softly, but it didn't last long. you heard hoshi tear open a condom, and before you could look down, he turned your body around, pressing you against the sink and thrusting his dick in all at once.
"f-fuck"
a hoarse growl escaped hoshi's lips as he finally penetrated you, squeezing your hips so hard it was painful, it would surely leave a mark. he couldn't hold back anymore, not after all the teasing, the insults, and all the damn tension that had built up over the months, every argument, every fight, every indirect comment about getting a higher grade, it all drove him crazier and crazier each day.
hoshi pulled your hair back, making you face the mirror, your eyes met, a mischievous smile escaping his lips, then he grabbed your neck, lowering his body just to put his mouth to your ear.
"i wanna you to watch me fucking you, without looking away."
your back arched from the loud slap he gave you, the bathroom getting increasingly cramped and hot inside.
"is that why you were always fighting with me? you wanted my attention at all costs to see if one day i could fill that pussy?"
"shut up."
"you tell me to shut up, but there you are... moaning like a pornstar... you pretend you hate me, but as soon as you're alone with me, you're acting like a little slut."
your pussy squeezed, both from the rough back and forth that hoshi was doing inside you and from the dirty treatment. damn, you loved being treated like that...
hoshi laughed. "damn, what a dirty pussy, it's contracting on my dick because i called you a little slut, is that it? that's what you are to me, a whore." he thrust. "toy." he thrust again even harder. "i'm gonna destroy this pussy."
hoshi looked like an animal, devoid of any rational thought, his lips curving into a malicious smile against your neck as he watched you in the mirror. he lingered, tracing a path of kisses down the side of your neck, his voice still low and hoarse as he murmured against your skin: "whore."
"shut up," you moan.
a wicked smile formed on his lips as he pulled your hair just enough to force you to arch against the fat cock inside you. his voice is husky, his breath hot against your ear as he speaks each word deliberately slow, provocative.
"make me." his hips move forward even more forcefully. "if you really want me to shut up, then make me. but we both know..." he nibbles your earlobe, "...that you don't really want this, slut."
the sound of bodies colliding was audible; anyone passing by would know exactly what you were doing.
"damn it, slow down, they're going to hear us."
hoshi let out a hoarse, dark laugh against your skin, slamming his body against yours to further amplify any noise made in that bathroom.
"now you care about being heard?" he bit the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder. "too bad, bitch. you should have thought of that before. you think i care who hears?" he thrust so hard you started seeing stars. "let them hear. maybe then they'll finally understand that you're mine."
hoshi's teeth grazed your shoulder again, biting and sucking lightly there while he still thrust violently. "say it."
"no."
you wouldn't say that, damn it. fuck with hoshi was already humiliating, enjoying the sex was even more humiliating, now saying you were his... damn it, everything has its limits.
a loud growl escaped hoshi upon hearing that simple word. he didn't like hearing a "no" at all; he squeezed your hip so hard he was sure it would leave a mark as he pressed himself even harder against you, and you knew you were ruined.
"wrong answer," he thrust roughly. "try again, idiot."
you tried to grab onto the bathroom sink, the faucet, the mirror, anything; you were completely losing control.
hoshi laughed, laughed diabolically.
"if you don't say that shit now, i'll leave you whining all night because that cunt will be empty. say it or i'll stop."
and you didn't answer, feeling a tightening around your neck as he thrust even more brutally, if that was possible.
"don't make me force you to say it, slut!"
"i'm not yours," you retorted, screaming immediately afterward because the force with which he thrust into you wasn't human, your eyes rolled back, his thick cock slid in with an ease that was almost pathetic, you felt his balls increasingly violently against your ass.
"take this, your whole cunt open for me, bitch, my bitch, say it, damn it!"
"i-i'm not."
and then suddenly hoshi quieted down, his body pressed against yours, motionless while his cock was deep inside you. damn, that was worse than the punishing rhythm. the silence between their ragged breaths was dense, heavy with unspoken tension. his voice came low, dangerous, close to your ear
"this is your punishment." he thrust slowly, torturously. "for being a stubborn whore." and he stopped completely. "tell me, and i'll give you what you want. keep testing me, and i swear to god i'll leave right now and abandon this cunt."
"why did you st-stop?" you whimpered.
he bit your neck. "i won't move another inch, not until you tell me what i want."
"hoshi~ please~"
"i don't have the patience for this fake whore's crying. if you wanna be fucked, then tell me what i want."
"hoshi~"
"are you gonna beg now? you pathetic bitch," he laughed.
somehow, having hoshi inside you hurt even more than the violent thrusts; your pussy throbbed, even though he was inside, something was missing. damn, you needed the violent rhythm from before.
and that's why you gave in.
"i'm yours, damn it, i'm yours." hoshi's eyes darkened, the words fueling what was already burning.
"good little slut, now again..."
and for someone who had already said it once...
"i'm yours... please..."
"again." he started thrusting again, slowly.
"yours."
hoshi growled and started thrusting again with the same force as before. "yes, damn it, you're mine." thrusts so deep you couldn't even care if someone was listening outside.
you were still trying to hold onto the sink, feeling hoshi's firm hands destroying your hips while his cock destroyed your pussy from the inside.
"hot. damn. fucking hot."
hoshi played with one of your nipples, and that was all it took for you cummed, moaning like a bitch in heat, a pornstar, or whatever other dirty thing he wanted to say.
"moan, damn it, moan while i make you cum."
and then he came...
hoshi's entire body tensed as he reached his climax, a hoarse groan escaping his lips as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. his fingers dug possessively into your skin—as if trying to imprint their mark on you even more.
a few moments of silence passed before he finally withdrew from you, his breath still ragged as he tied the condom to throw it in the trash.
he exhaled sharply, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and he was still the same arrogant hoshi as always. "finally... now clean yourself up before someone notices."
hoshi took a step back, his breathing still uneven as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. you no longer understand his gaze; he's still the same arrogant guy as always, but there's something more there...
"for god's sake, fix your clothes."
"yeah..." you murmured.
he snorted, feigning irritation, but honestly, hoshi didn't seem angry. "come on, let me help you fix your hair."
there was a subtle glint in his eyes, satisfied as if he were seeing proof of what you two had just experienced together a memory of how he had taken you just a few minutes ago.
"what the hell was that..." you wondered.
hoshi rolled his eyes. "oh no, don't even start, don't pretend you weren't begging me to fuck your pussy minutes ago, you know very well what the hell that was..."
"yeah, but..."
"but what? don't start with that talk about it being wrong and blah blah blah, say goodbye to your friends, i'm ordering an uber for us."
"what?"
you were kind of desperate, you weren't even in a condition to have sex again, you were completely exhausted... and hoshi noticed that.
"you're so stupid sometimes... do you think i asked you to say you were mine just because of ego?"
mechanic!mingyu x reader ♡ smut [18+ mdni] #important warnings: unprotected sex, rough sex, 'slut, bitch', humiliation, public sex (on the street), size kink, hair pulling.
summary - your car dies in the middle of the street and your mechanic sends his friend to save you.
you take a deep breath when you notice your car simply dies in the middle of the street. you haven't had one of your best days; even the party you tried to go to to distract yourself was a drag, and to make matters worse, now your car has simply shut off and won't start again. trying not to stress yourself out even more, you pick up the phone to call mingi even though it's almost dawn.
song mini is your trusted mechanic; every time your car has any kind of problem, you take it to him, and he or his team always saves you.
"hi, mingi! sorry to call at this hour, but my car simply died in the middle of the street."
and then you hear a sigh from the man, “hi, are you okay?” you say yes, that the car just stalled but there was no accident involved. “girl, i’m traveling with my wife…” he admits, making you apologize profusely. “relax, i’m sending you mingyu’s number, he works with me at the autoshop, i think he can help you, okay?”
you thank him, texting his friend and thankfully getting a quick reply, and after sending the address, he asks you to wait twenty minutes for his arrival.
twenty minutes pass by quickly; you're casually scrolling through your tiktok, trying to kill time, when you notice the white car approaching with the autoshop's logo on the side. the car parks right behind yours, its high beams illuminating the street. you sigh in relief that you'll finally be able to resolve this and go home, so you unlock your own door and get out, but nothing, for real, nothing prepares you for the man who gets out of the vehicle.
mingyu is wearing a simple black tank top and dark shorts with a very low waist. his hair is slightly damp, as if he just took a shower, and he also has a tired expression on his face.
you can easily notice his strong arms, the relaxed way he closes the door with one hand and walks towards you as if he hadn't just come out in the middle of the night to help you.
fuck, naturally hot man.
"did you talk to mingi?" the question sounds low, hoarse, heavy with sleepiness; you feel a little guilty because he's clearly tired.
"y-yes. sorry about the time, i just really trust him and the team."
"he told me, i was almost sleeping when he called and said you were gonna text," he confesses.
you murmur a 'sorry,' but he quickly says it's no problem, after all, it's his job. his eyes quickly scan your body before focusing on the car.
“did you open the hood to see anything?”
“no, i thought it was better to wait for you.”
“you did the right thing,” mingyu murmurs.
he walks around the front of the car and opens the hood easily, after all, it’s his routine. you lean against the car, trying to look normal, your tiny skirt making you feel the cold wind against your legs, and then you cross them.
mingyu notices too quickly, his eyes drift down for a second, a little fast, but not at all discreet.
“coming back from a party?” he asks casually while fiddling with some engine part.
you look at your own clothes and laugh. “that slutty skirt gives you away, doesn’t it?”
“quite a bit, but you look beautiful,” he comments, still focused on the car. and then he realizes what he just said. “i meant that it doesn’t look like comfortable clothes to be standing in the middle of the street.”
damn liar. he meant that you look too hot to be casually buying bread at the market at eleven o’clock at night, and that yes, it’s a slutty skirt.
you bite your lip, the party was a drag, your car broke down in the middle of the street, but maybe the night won’t end so badly…
“and you? do you usually work like this?” you asks, staring shamelessly at his low-cut shorts and tight black tank top. mingyu tilts his head almost as if asking why. “no uniform, casual.”
he laughs, his voice heavy with sleep. “damn, i was already lying down, i told you, i only came because mingi said it was urgent!”
he leans back over the engine, his long fingers already stained with grease, his posture relaxed as someone clearly used to solving problems like this.
you, on the other hand, are too busy trying not to notice the hot guy in front of you, clearly drooling over him like a bitch in heat.
“besides, he owes me a lot for this,” mingyu comments distractedly.
“for waking you up?”
“no.” he looks up at you for a second, wiping his fingers on his shirt. “for sending me alone down a deserted street with a woman like that wearing that little skirt.”
you gasp, your legs wobbling for a split second as he looks back at the engine as if he hadn't just blatantly flirted with you.
“you say that to all your clients, don't you?” he asks, trying to sound less affected than he really is.
“i don't usually see hot clients in the middle of the night.”
son of a bitch.
mingyu partially closes the hood. “apparently it’s just the battery, princess, it won’t take long to replace.”
you murmur something in thanks, trying to act normal while your brain is still processing that he just indirectly called you hot.
“but to be honest, it’s hard to concentrate.”
you laugh and raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “why?”
“because every time i look, you’re staring at me like you want i fuck you.”
your breath catches, and mingyu lets out a laugh, heading towards the company’s car to get another battery.
meanwhile, you try to recover some of your dignity, opening the purse thrown on the passenger seat and leaning out the open window looking for your lip gloss, too distracted trying to reorganize your thoughts after those absurd sentences.
and then your legs tremble, because you feel his hard cock rubbing depravedly against you.
firm. slow. without any disguise. and his hand firmly on your waist making it clear that it's intentional, and from then on you don't even care if his grease-stained fingers are soiling the hem of your white blouse.
the thin fabric of the skirt making you feel the thick cock rubbing against your ass.
"i tried to control myself," he confesses softly, almost laughing. "i swear i tried."
but he doesn't seem sorry, quite the opposite. he rubs again, firmer, eliciting an involuntary sigh from you as his hand goes down a little, now playing with the waistband of your skirt.
“you show up wearing that tiny skirt…” mingyu brings his mouth close to your ear. “you look at me with that slutty little face, and then you’re all bent over in the car window for me.”
you don’t even try to get up, far from it, you stand on tiptoe trying to make him brush against your hole.
and mingyu lets out a hoarse sound against your ear when he realizes what you’re trying to do.
“so hot…” he groans. you feel his hip again, heavier, more depraved, shamelessly taking advantage of how your skirt rides up a little in that position. “i just came to change a fucking battery.”
you turn your face, still half your body inside the car, barely able to see, but catching just enough of his large body rubbing against yours.
“pretty little slut!” he lifts your skirt, exposing your panties, which are just as short, the fabric wedged tightly in your ass, wet at your entrance, driving him crazy. “i knew from the moment you got out of the car you were going to give me trouble.”
he slaps your ass, nothing too hard, and then you feel his body detach from yours. you watch through the window as he closes the hood and leaves the battery up there, returning to you.
at that moment, fuck everything, fuck the job, the damn battery, fuck if you're in the middle of the street and anyone could walk by…
but unlike what you expect, mingyu doesn't rub his dick against you again; he kneels down, barely caring about his knee on the asphalt, and then buries his face in yours.
his tongue brushed against the damp fabric that barely covered your pussy, "pretty pussy." he let out a moan against your skin, then smelled you.
you felt the cold air as he pushed the fabric aside, but the heat between your legs is much stronger, mingyu's tongue wet, drooling, and sucking the entire length of your cunt, making you tremble. he's in no hurry, even though he's on the dirty asphalt.
"f-fuck," you moaned softly, sending the vibration to his hard cock.
mingyu pulled his cock out of his shorts, but didn't touch it, just left his throbbing cock there. he was too busy sucking you, your pussy getting even wetter with each lick, contracting in the emptiness.
the wet muscle entered your little hole, tasting the salty flavor. mingyu grunted, running his tongue all over you, taking advantage of the position to leave a lick on your asshole too, rubbing his face there, happy. “shit,” he mutters, staring at the tips of his fingers, which were covered in grease. no matter how hard he tried to clean them, there were still traces there. “i really wanted to finger that little pussy,” he admits.
he tries again, rubbing his fingers on your shirt, even spitting to see if it helps clean it better, but it's kind of useless, it doesn't clean completely and he doesn't want to get you dirty, not like that.
he grunts, annoyed, adjusting himself and going back to sucking you lasciviously, running his tongue over your soaked entrance, burying his face there, making you roll your eyes as you try to grip the steering wheel and the seat.
you feel his hard cock rubbing between your legs, the wet head smearing you with precum.
mingyu sucks you like it's the last meal of his life, having fun forcing the muscle in your ass, watching you squeal, then going back to your pussy and lasciviously rubbing your clit. your leg trembles and he laughs, sinking even deeper into you, squeezing your hips tightly.
and when you come, he swallows every last drop, sticking his tongue in your hole to get more.
mingyu holds you firmly, slowly lifting you from the ground, ignoring your bruised knees, then guides you to the hood of the car, pushing the battery aside, laying you down there. and without saying anything, he kisses you.
his warm lips devour you in an intense kiss, your taste on his tongue, dominating you, his large hand moving up your body, slipping under your shirt and searching for your tits. he unhooks your bra any which way, squeezing your tits and playing with the nipples, hard from the cold. "fuck."
he continues circling your nipple with his thumb, while his mouth bites and sucks your jaw and neck, leaving some light marks there, your pussy getting wet again.
“fuck me, mingyu!” she moans hoarsely, needy.
in a brusque movement, your skirt is bunched up at your waist, he quickly grabs his huge, thick cock and rubs it against your wet cunt.
“please…” you whine again, opening your own legs.
the request makes mingyu lose the last vestige of sanity. he rips off yours panties in one go, throwing them beside the drums, and without any tenderness, pushes inside.
rough. strong. your tight little pussy contracting around his thick, throbbing cock inside you.
“slutty pussy,” the cold hood of the car presses against your back as mingyu lays you completely down, slowly inserting his cock, letting your little hole adjust to his fat cock, pulling it all the way out only to thrust back in all at once, making you whimper like a little whore on his big cock.
"tight as fuck!" he growls, his eyes fixed on yours, making your pussy throb even more around him.
then he pulls out, tucking everything in and then burying his cock deep inside all at once, harder, making you moan loudly, without any shame, his thick cock stretching your tight pussy.
"i'm gonna break your pussy, i want you dumb from my dick," he promises, and then he does it again, faster, burying it deep, making his balls slap against you, making the car hood creak slightly.
mingyu's hands squeeze your tits, his body lying on top of yours, giving you a dirty kiss while his cock impales you without any decency. a car passes by you two, its low beams illuminating the two of you in the profane act, but he doesn't care, much less you; the thrusts continue strong, hitting your pleasure point, making you roll your eyes at him. the car passes slowly, staring at you both, enjoying the little show, but doesn't stop, just keeps going and disappears around the corner.
you groan when his cock comes completely out of you, but mingyu quickly resolves the situation, grabbing your waist and turning your body, putting you on all fours on the cold hood.
your face against the icy metal.
and before you can even breathe, mingyu buries his thick cock inside you, the position making you feel full, hitting your sweet spot perfectly, making your eyes roll back as you moan loudly.
mingyu can't hold back, a hard slap lands on your ass, the crack audible to anyone passing by, him grabbing the bruised flesh immediately afterward.
"so hot. pretty whore." he delivers another slap.
his cock brutally pounding your pussy, the force of the thrusts making your body almost jump against the hood, the cold metal provoking new sensations in your already deliriously horny body.
mingyu fucks you hard, forcefully against your hips, making you feel every inch of his cock.
"moan, bitch, moan for me while my cock destroys that pussy."
you obey, moaning even louder, unable to hold back.
the position, his cock opening your pussy, hitting the perfect spot while throbbing inside, his balls slapping against your body, your sweaty skin making the 'plops' audible.
he grabs your hair, his firm hand pulling a handful while his nails lightly scratch the hood. mingyu notices, satisfied, your body trembling, your delicious pussy tightening even more around his cock.
"are you gonna cum for me? cum, bitch! i'm dying to fill you with cum too."
he doesn't stop, maintaining the same speed, moaning in your ear, pulling your hair.
"f-fuck, mingyu-u," your voice is weak, trembling, full of lust.
and you cum, screaming his name even louder, your pussy contracting around his big cock buried deep inside you, trying to suck him even deeper.
the way your body reacts to the orgasm is the trigger for mingyu, "bitch!" he groans in a growl as he cums.
the jets of hot milk, deep inside you, filling your entire pussy. he tries to bury himself even deeper, plunging his cock deep inside you, making you swallow every last drop of his cum.
and he stays there until the last drop is inside you, his cock throbbing as the thick cum spills out.
you both start to catch your breath, your chests racing, your bodies limp, both sweaty, but laughing for no reason…
mingyu pulls out of you, dragging some of the semen out, and helps you sit on the hood, awkwardly tucks his own cock back into his underwear and pulls up his shorts, then carefully pulls down your skirt, and then adjusts your bra and shirt. you pretend not to notice him putting your panties in your pocket.
“are you okay?” he asks, his voice affectionate in contrast to everything they did. you nod, and he quickly walks to the car, grabs a small bottle of water and hands it to you.
you accept, drink the water slowly, still a little dizzy.
"sorry if i was too rough," he scratches the back of his neck. "i went a little overboard, you're fucking hot."
you laugh, saying everything is fine, and that you liked it.
“it’s cold… i still need to change the battery, get in the car, it’s better than getting cold.”
“more than i already have?” you tease, laughing, but obeyed and got into your car, watching mingyu lift the hood again.
a few minutes later, mingyu finished, closing the hood and going to the driver’s side window to talk to you.
“it’s ready, sweetheart, you can go home now!” he smiled, making you weak with just a look.
“how much was it?”
“a date.” you stared at him confused, not quite understanding. “let me take you on a date and the new battery is paid for.”
you smiled. “well, you already have my number, gyu!”
where you and jeonghan find out you’ve been unknowingly sharing the same guy, and get back at him by fucking each other.
❥ pairing: seungcheol x f!reader x jeonghan
❥ words: 4.9k
❥ warnings: everyone is bisexual, brief petty fighting over a man, pure smut: masturbation, unprotected sex, mouth & hand stuff, multiple orgasms, cum eating, mouth spitting, a smidge of ass play, cucking. 18+ mdni.
❥ notes: man, is this filthy. i did not read this shit over. only took a month and a few rewrites but we got here!!
you: [1 attachment]
you smile at the thumbnail while waiting for it to be sent through to yourself: cheollie’s pretty face stuffed between your thighs.
just something to keep you company the next time work demands his attention for days on end. finding a new fuck buddy has been out of the question since the first time you met seungcheol at the clubs and promptly took him home — or rather, the first time you hooked up with someone who wasn’t him and realised sex isn’t all that when he’s not the one you’re doing it with.
once it shows up as Delivered to your end, you shut off his phone and discard it somewhere in the sheets. you roll over and nuzzle into his back, nodding off to the soft snores of the man who just spent the last few hours fucking the living daylights out of you.
until a ding from his phone cuts through your shallow doze. then another. you blink, confused and increasingly panicked at the timing of the notification.
…didn’t you send the video to yourself??
you didn’t exactly check the name before sending it, but you didn’t have to. it should be you at the top of seungcheol’s contacts. you’re the last person he messaged after all, since he invited you to a trip to pound town and was pretty occupied with that until knocking out in your bed.
another ding has you fumbling around the blanket for seungcheol’s phone. you hold it to your face, squinting through the light to read the name on his notification screen.
‘hannie’?
you don’t waste another moment in punching in his passcode and opening the chat up with a sinking stomach. whoever this illustrious hannie is, she was on the receiving end of your sex tape, not yourself.
hannie: ??????
hannie: Cheollie??
your stomach flips at the nickname. he told you to call him that too. said it was special, just between you two; only lets girls call him that when he…
you: this is cheol’s girlfriend. who the fuck is this?
okay, so you may have just blatantly lied. but you’re not above being possessive, let alone petty.
seungcheol’s quite literally the best dick you’ve ever had — even if you’re too emotionally unavailable to slap a label on it that would make him yours alone — so you’re just a little curious about the competition, especially when up until now you weren’t aware there was any.
you quit seeking out anyone else since the dawn of your little agreement with seungcheol, and you just assumed he was doing the same… considering you let him fuck you raw.
hannie: ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
hannie: No offence babes, but if you really think you’ve got Cheollie locked down, you’re delusional~
you’re shaking with adrenaline all over at this point. you actually can’t believe the audacity on this woman. you scroll back up to the sex tape and hold on it until the little options bubble pops up. if she thinks she’s funny, you’re about to start acting fucking hilarious.
you: [forwarded an attachment]
you: if that’s your man then why was he eating this pussy? 🤣
hannie: well fuck
hannie: I’m hard
in the split second your mind blanks from disbelief, your thumb flies to the call button in the corner of the screen as you slip out of bed. it barely rings once before hannie picks up.
“god, you’re forward.” she — or rather, he — says in a low, raspy chuckle.
your jaw actually drops a little. if you weren’t so pissed off you’d probably find…his… voice attractive.
“you’re a dude?!?” you whisper-yell, padding into the bathroom and locking the door behind you.
“yes.”
“your name’s hannie.”
“it’s short for jeonghan.”
“okay jeonghan,” you seethe with as much malice in your tone as you can manage. “who the fuck are you?”
“i think you owe me the answer to that first, sweetheart. considering you came on to me.”
“fuck off.” you snap, and he whistles lowly in response. you frown. “are you fucking him?”
“i have been.” you can just hear the smirk in his tone.
just like in the movies, your back slides down the bathroom wall until you’re sat on the cold tile. this shitshow is just the gift that keeps on giving. not only is your all-time favourite fuck buddy seeing other bitches, but said bitch is a whole ass man, who’s sassier than you are.
“i didn’t know cheollie swung that way.” you mutter.
“i didn’t know he swung your way either. guess our boyfriend was playing us both, hm?”
you scoff, offended that he’d even lump you in with him like you’re some sort of team. “he is not my boyfriend. how long have you been seeing him??”
“since april.” the same as you. fuck. “he’s not mine either. but does it even matter who was taking him up the ass first? we’ve both been led on, sweetheart.”
“shut up.” you grit. you could’ve gone your entire life without having to hear you were unknowingly sharing a dick with this cocky ass twink. “and for your information, i never took him.”
“oh wow.” jeonghan sighs, though it sounds too much like a whine. “is this why cheollie’s always so rough with me? because he…hah…cops it from you?”
you blink, turning your volume to the max and listening to the unmistakable noises coming from the other end: the shuffling of fabric, barely concealing the slick sounds beneath it.
“are you seriously fucking jerking off?”
jeonghan huffs, and you can just hear the way he smirks through the phone. “can you blame me? you sent me a video of my man eating a pretty fucking pussy.”
“oh my god.” you can only say in disbelief.
the noises come to a halt, as you can imagine jeonghan’s hand did. against your will, your mind conjures up an image of the way he must be gripping himself right now: cock twitching in his fist, begging for any friction, but refusing to move until your voice is at his ear again.
until you tell him it’s okay.
he audibly gulps. “…is that too much?”
you stare at the tiles of the bathroom floor. the room around you goes blurry as you focus on nothing but his shaky puffs of air on the other end.
you don’t know how it’s come to this. but fuck if you’re not gonna channel all this adrenaline somewhere.
for a moment, the only response from your end is something shuffling. jeonghan only realises what’s happening when you spit, and he smirks since he knows it must be on your own fingers.
“i didn’t say stop, did i?” you tell him in a whisper, breath hitching when your fingers swirl over your clit.
jeonghan moans through a laugh, and you throb under your fingers at the noise.
“oh, i’ll do whatever you want.” he drawls.
most people would be devastated if they were in your position: realising that the only dick you’ve been letting cum inside of you, was also getting sticked into holes that didn’t belong to you. and you were devastated over the revelation for all of like a few minutes before just… having phone sex with owner of said holes?
after you came on your fingers to the sound of jeonghan doing much the same on his end, then sat in a puddle of your arousal and regret as you caught your breath, jeonghan’s mellow tone was enough to still your scattered thoughts.
“don’t feel bad, pretty.” he cooed to you, reading the silence exactly for what it was. “he hid us from each other. looks like this was why, huh?”
in fact, it was.
you stayed up all night texting jeonghan from your own phone once you slid back into bed like nothing happened. after one hell of a first impression, it surprised you how well you and jeonghan got on as you properly got to know each other. how often you giggled at his jokes, how attracted you were to him in the selfie he sent where you nearly mistook him for a girl again.
how you pressed your thighs together when his words turned filthier in response to the selfie you sent back.
you were almost disappointed when seungcheol woke you up the following morning by pressing his morning wood against your ass. it was the fact that you couldn’t invite jeonghan over to see if he’s just as good as through the phone, and all you had was this lying, fat cock throbbing bitchass...
“where’s this coming from?” seungcheol chuckles as you straddle him, pissed off at him and pent up by jeonghan; grinding your clothed heat right down onto his in chase of friction.
“just you, cheollie.” you smile lopsided at him, mind elsewhere.
you think back to memory of jeonghan fucking his fist to the sound of your voice, how wrecked and pretty his moans were. thinking back to the nudes he sent you when the conversation steered to just sexting, how his cock was weeping around his fingers and onto his toned stomach.
as you rode seungcheol, you did so selfishly. you kept your eyes screwed shut as you rocked on him, uncaring for the movement he needs to get off, your thoughts consumed entirely with the guy he’s been seeing behind your back. the guy you fully intend to start seeing behind his back.
you imagine it’s jeonghan’s slender cock fucking right into your g-spot right now instead of cheol’s girthier length. you imagine it’s jeonghan’s soft moans beneath you instead of cheol’s rough grunts. you imagine it’s jeonghan’s lithe fingers coming to rub at your clit instead of cheol’s thick ones.
you almost called out the wrong name as your orgasm seized you.
luckily you didn’t, or else seungcheol would’ve refused to leave your place; especially since you were basically pushing him out the door while he was still in post-nut clarity.
after your place was free of one man, you took your pretty ass to the shower, freshened up, and texted the other man your address.
jeonghan fucked you so good and so thoroughly you damn nearly texted seungcheol and thanked him.
most people in your position would probably be giving you nasty side eye for it. now, you’re only devastated over seungcheol hiding him purely because you’ve been missing out.
and well, jeonghan fully intends to make up for lost time.
you were both on the same page about this being your shared little secret from seungcheol, his own personal karma. but you didn’t intend to stop seeing him, no — that’s where half the fun came from.
jeonghan fit into your days so easily as if the spot was there waiting for him. you texted and called him just as much as seungcheol. whenever your man couldn’t come around, you’d be calling your other man right over.
you started filming sex tapes with seungcheol for the sole purpose of watching them back with jeonghan. you’d reenact them with him as they played in the background: sometimes he’d be seungcheol and press you into the mattress as he fucked you, sometimes you’d be seungcheol and you’d ride him until he was a shaking mess.
whenever seungcheol preferred one of you over the other for the week — one being told that he was busy and would make it up next week, the other being fucked into oblivion by him — you always made sure no one else was left out. you traded photos of the messy state he’d leave you in, retold the sex in detail over call as the other got off to your voice: jeonghan jerking off to you telling how seungcheol bent you over a desk, you fingering yourself to jeonghan telling how he deepthroated seungcheol.
you always have jeonghan over after him. never before. seungcheol’d smell his other lover on you in an instant, and god forbid choi seungcheol feel left out.
some days it feels like you’re just fucking seungcheol so that you can get a round two with jeonghan once he’s gone. and you’d feel bad, if only seungcheol didn’t try to gatekeep jeonghan first — in an effort to protect his own fears of being the one left out, of course.
how ironic.
“where he goes low,” jeonghan had cooed to you once, rubbing the aches out from your back in the post-sex haze. “we go lower.”
and you’ve been living by that.
as per usual, jeonghan gets to your place so quickly after seungcheol’s left that you’re worried their cars may have passed by each other.
he can’t help it. jeonghan’s favourite thing ever is tasting his man while he’s fucking his girl. once you texted him that you let seungcheol fuck you raw, he didn’t even reply. rather, you got the life360 notification that he’d left his house to know that he was instantly on his way over after reading that, forgetting to let you know in text.
and, lucky for you both, seungcheol left behind his hoodie.
after jeonghan lets himself in, he finds you laying on your bed in nothing but just that — the smell of sweat and sex and seungcheol still heady in the air.
you smile at your man, spreading your legs and showing where you’re cupping your hand over your pussy to keep your other man’s cum from leaking out.
“oh, baby, you’re too good to me.” jeonghan praises in a broken voice, mindlessly throwing his keys somewhere across the room as he dives onto the mattress, sights honed in on what you’ve got for him between your legs.
you cry out when his mouth latches onto your pussy as if by a magnetic pull. your hands tangle in his hair, trying your best to not just rip the strands out — still sensitive from how seungcheol left you.
you hadn’t even gotten off, in fact. you’d insisted to him that you wanted to be edged, with the promise that next time he could make you cum til you fainted. and well, you still intend to make good on that promise — but it’s also because jeonghan’s greedy ass isn’t satisfied unless he’s pulled at least two orgasms out of you and some days you nearly can’t take it. call it suffering from success.
now with the treat you’ve left for him between your thighs, you’re sure you’ll be in for him rewarding you with a handful of orgasms.
he’s so lost in the sauce that he doesn’t even realise he had his eyes shut until he’s missing the sight of your face. you watch his lashes flutter open, his pretty brown eyes flicking up to your face: lips curling in a satisfied smile as he licks a hard stripe from your hole to clit.
his chin and cheeks glisten with the messy mixture of fluids. he keeps bobbing his head like that, applying pressure with his tongue just to see you tremble above him. he’s so in tune with your body at this point that he cocks a brow as a thought clicks in his head.
he pouts. “aw, baby. did cheollie not make you cum?”
he blows air out on your clit experimentally, and his eyes shade over with how you shudder at the barest contact.
you shake your head. “told him not to. wanted it to be you, hannie.”
for such a sharp tongue, you render jeonghan speechless for a beat. his grin stretches wider across his soaked face, and he’s looking at you like he could grant you the whole world if you only asked.
“you can’t be saying shit like that, sweetheart.” he sighs, plunging two lithe fingers into your core and delighting in the way you sob a moan. “if you ever want me to get rid of me..”
“not happening.” you grit out, throwing your head back when he starts to pump his fingers slowly.
he sucks in a sharp inhale, one of necessity because you’ve got him that breathless.
“ah. you must really like me.” he curls his fingers until he hits that spongey spot, tutting at how your thighs clamp around his head in kind. “lucky me, ‘cause i am crazy about you.”
jeonghan reattaches his mouth to your pussy, lips closing around your clit to suck on the bundle of nerves. you’re sure he must feel how you’re throbbing under his tongue and around his fingers. cheol left you teetering off the edge, so you knew you’d be a goner when jeonghan got here so soon afterwards.
his fingers relentlessly curl inside of you, his mouth switching between kitten licks and suctioning on your clit until you’re shouting out something that might be his name — orgasm completely taking over your body.
you think you die a little with how hard and fast it slammed into you. jeonghan’s diligent to lick and fuck you through it, so you’re not sure how long it is before you come down, chest fighting to catch breath and throat sore from the exertion.
you weakly tilt your chin down at jeonghan, who’s leaving gentle pecks on your inner thigh as he waits for you. his eyes catch on yours and he smirks, no doubt plotting something behind that beautiful face.
jeonghan inches his fingers out, and you wince as his knuckles drag deliberately against your walls. his fingers are completely drenched: his saliva, your cum, and some of seungcheol’s too.
he licks his lips at the sight but restrains himself, instead bringing his hand to your mouth.
you don’t waste a second in closing your lips around his fingers, ravenous as the sharp tang lights up your palate. you can recognise each of your separate tastes and you mewl, taking jeonghan’s fingers until they tap the back of your throat. he cusses lowly before he retracts his hand.
when your gazes meet again, you see your reflection with how wide jeonghan’s pupils were dilated.
you grab jeonghan by the scruff of his hair and pull him up your body until his face is just short of yours. you tilt it back with a tug, his neck exposed and bobbing with a gulp.
your face hovers over his and he opens his mouth expectantly, lips stretched in a helpless smile as he presents his tongue.
you spit straight onto it, watching how his pupils eclipse even more of his irises in pure delight.
he moans as he swallows the mess of fluids down — the taste of you, cheol and himself sliding down his throat.
you don’t wait another moment before mashing your lips together, kissing him with more tongue and teeth than anything.
your free hand fumbles for his lap, palming over the prominent bulge in his shorts. you can tell he’s not wearing boxers (they’d be useless) when his length twitches at your touch, the fabric already soaked with precum.
“fuck,” jeonghan gasps, chuckling into the kiss. “i might cum.”
he plunges his fingers right back into your pussy, scissoring you open as he feels for cheol’s cum still pooled deep in your core. he doesn’t want to waste a single drop — he fully intends to fuck it right back into you, feeling both his man and his girl’s cum around his cock. just the thought has his moaning again.
“can you imagine— hah— how fucking mad he’d be?” he rasps out, hips bucking into the delicious friction your palm offers.
“oh, god—“ you giggle. “how d’you think he’d react?”
“probably break it off with us both, the big jealous baby.” he huffs out a laugh, wincing when your pussy clamps around his fingers. “but it’s alright, sweetheart, i’d be lucky to just have you.”
the concept is almost inconceivable at this point: only having jeonghan. you’ve gotten so used to having two men to choose from depending on your mood. to being fucked twice in a day by two different cocks.
you know that sooner or later it’ll come out. you’ve gotten reckless lately: blatantly texting jeonghan in front of cheol, not even pretending to be bummed when he says he can’t come see you. hell, there was one time where you and jeonghan were mysteriously busy — fucking each other to the tune of your phones ringing as cheol took turns calling you both.
in fact, it’s made it even more exhilarating. knowing you’ve both got this over him, knowing how much he’d hate it and how it’s his own fault. it’s too bad he didn’t lock either of you down while he had the chance — they’d call him king arthur if he was able to seperate you and jeonghan now.
about to die from the impatience, you tug jeonghan’s sweatpants down enough for his cock to spring free. he hisses when you wrap a tight fist around him, adding a third finger into your pussy in response.
“ah, ah— gonna need to fuck you like now.” jeonghan says shakily, pulsing violently in the circle of your hand. “i’m close to making a fool of myself.”
you nod, laying back into your pillows for him.
“you gotta be fucking…”
the sound of seungcheol’s low voice through the wall has you leaping out of your skin, but jeonghan simply keeps you laid on your back with a hand pressed onto your tummy.
your door swings open to reveal your other lover, standing in the frame with smoke pouring from his ears.
jeonghan isn’t the least bit startled. doesn’t halt his fingers either; just draws out the pumps, leaving you trembling as you stare at seungcheol with guilty, teary eyes.
“ah, cheollie, it’s about time.” jeonghan drawls.
you stifle a moan when jeonghan curls a single finger to hit your g-spot, just to be mean. “what are you..?”
“i came to get my hoodie.” seungcheol’s frown deepens as he takes in your naked form under said hoodie, eyes honing in on where your body connects with jeonghan’s fingers. “what the fuck are you doing?!”
“yah, you can’t ask a girl that when you’re the one who broke into her house.” jeonghan says, speeding up his fingers at the other man watching.
“the door was unlocked.” seungcheol deadpans.
you shoot a glance at jeonghan, who just shrugs, guilty. (in his rush to get to you, he forgot to lock your front door behind him.)
jeonghan curls his fingers again, and this time you can’t help the moan that leaves you. seungcheol steps into the room, successfully provoked.
“fucking— just—” he rambles, looking like he’s two seconds from prying jeonghan’s hand out of you. “what the fuck is this?”
jeonghan shrugs with that same shit-eating grin. knowing he won’t get a serious answer out of him, seungcheol addresses you by name. “why—how do you know him?”
“you tell me.” you snap back, wriggling your hips lower to give jeonghan even better access in spite. “why don’t you introduce us?”
“wouldn’t that be nice.” jeonghan coos to you. “i think he’s too scared we’ll fuck each other though.”
“god, you two really are alike, aren’t you..” seungcheol sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“oh, so he has a type.” jeonghan says. “your greed sickens me. but i get it, i’m no better. not since i got a taste of her too.”
at that, jeonghan pulls his fingers out, only to wrap them around his cock and line himself up with your pussy — eyes never leaving seungcheol.
your other lover walks further into the room until he stops just short of the foot of the bed. he runs a hand through his hair like you’re both stressing him the fuck out (you are), completely helpless to just witnessing this.
“wait. jeonghan, don’t.” seungcheol’s usual commanding tone is lost on him, the words instead delivered as a weak plea.
jeonghan hums, unconvinced as he swirls his tip at your hole.
“please don’t,” seungcheol's close to begging. it's almost like he’s in a trance as he drops to the floor on his knees, unable to rip his eyes away from jeonghan’s tip nearly breaching into your wet warmth. “jeonghan.”
through half-lidded eyes you glance at seungcheol kneeling before you, his hand creeping towards the very evident tent in his grey sweats.
“please what?” jeonghan teases, pre leaking all over your pussy.
seungcheol gulps down the size of a boulder.
“please don’t stop.”
per his request, he doesn’t. with one snap of his hips jeonghan pushes into you, and all three of you moan as he fills you up.
you pulse around him once he bottoms out, and jeonghan shudders as the mixture of cum all up in your pussy gushes around his cock.
“shit, baby. let’s hope i can last in front of cheollie,” jeonghan snickers in a low voice meant just for your ears. he throws a look over his shoulder at your other lover. “if you can hold back on cumming, i’ll let you join.”
the older man mumbles something under his breath (can’t be anything nice), but he listens anyways — gripping both of his thighs while trying to ignore the painful pulsing between them. if he touches himself at all while watching you both, he’s going to fail.
he resolves to biting his tongue as jeonghan starts to fuck you properly, in hopes he might draw blood to distract from how his boner’s screaming at him for some god damn relief.
the room sounds like a literal porn set: wet slapping and squelching, neither you and jeonghan holding back on your moans with full intents of pissing seungcheol off.
you could almost forget he’s even there when jeonghan starts slamming into you, your body shuffling up the bed from the force. he cants your hips up so he can angle his thrusts just right into your g-spot, and you all but sob when a thumb comes to circle your clit.
“just one more f’me,” jeonghan pants out, and almost like on command your pussy starts spasming around him. “yeah, that’s it, that’s my good baby.”
seungcheol’s cock is so stiff he think he might just die. where your orgasm ends, jeonghan’s starts — but he doesn’t stop rubbing at your clit, pushing you into overstimulation just because he wants to feel you completely wring him dry.
both of your moans as jeonghan shoots his load inside of you is the sexiest and most torturous sound seungcheol’s ever heard. he’s almost bitten his tongue in half by the time jeonghan’s pulling out, quick to cup his hand over your pussy to make sure nothing seeps out.
jeonghan gives seungheol a once over to ensure there’s no cum stain on his sweats before cocking his head in your direction, beckoning the other man over. “want a taste?”
seungcheol’s on his feet and at the bed within seconds. he doesn’t waste another moment in latching his mouth to your pussy, the mess of mixed cum gushing onto his tongue. your back’s arching from the sensitivity, but it’s futile trying to writhe away from seungcheol when he’s eating you out like a man on the brink of starvation.
jeonghan keeps your legs open with one hand pressing your thigh to the bed, the other hand planted in seungcheol’s hair — praising and directing him as he holds his head down. your head is spinning from the overstimulation. the promise you made to cheol be damned, you think you’re going to faint now if he pulls another orgasm out of you.
jeonghan must see it: the glazed, faraway look in your eyes, how you’ve gone almost dumb with the pleasure.
high off the surge in pride, he takes his hand from your thigh and kneads seungcheol’s ass. it’s all the warning he gets before a thumb prods at his hole.
seungcheol’s response is muffled when jeonghan shoves his face even further into your pussy. he doesn’t push in, just circles the rim with enough pressure to make cheol shiver.
jeonghan’s other hand then reaches down into seungcheol’s sweats and grips his weeping cook. as out of it as you are, your hand replaces his to tug at seungcheol’s hair — keeping him in place as you hump at his mouth, basically riding his face to reach one last orgasm.
jeonghan has no mercy as he jerks seungcheol off: fist closed so tight to the point it must be painful, moving so fast he can’t feel his arm.
your nth orgasm hits first: ripping through your body and soaking seungcheol’s face, the taste of all of your cum coating his tongue. a mere few strokes later and seungcheol’s orgasms follows with a pitiful sob into your pussy.
he shoots ropes across your sheets before collapsing into them, head lolled across your bare thigh.
jeonghan pats his ass with a satisfied hum. “well damn. if you wanted to cuck, cheollie, you could’ve just asked.”
he rolls his eyes. “fuck doing that again. you know i hate being left out.”
“doesn’t feel good, does it?” you remind him, fingers threading through his sweaty hair.
seungcheol grumbles. “so you found out about each other and now you fuck, is that right?” you both nod at him, and he sulks. “this is exactly why i didn’t say anything!”
jeonghan tuts. “you better get used to sharing, cheollie.”
Summary: Somebody had been texting you about some group project and kept calling you “Cheol” for three days straight. You told the stranger he probably had the wrong number, but the stranger insisted he had the correct one. With that, the two of you started exchanging things about each other, unaware that neither one of you was as far away from each other as you originally thought.
Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Fem!reader
Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, eventual smut, fluff, smidge of angst, romcom, college au, non idol au, best friend!Joshua & Wonwoo, Joshua calls the reader pipsqueak, strangers to friends to lovers, sexting, phone sex, masturbation, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking weed, shotgunning, having sex while high (but it's consensual), protected & unprotected sex, dom!Jeonghan, pussydrunk!Jeonghan, multiple sex scenes, oral sex (f receiving), multiple positions, couch sex, face sitting, they text a LOT, Jeonghan is a horny bastard.
A/N: LOL YOU GUYS THOUGHT I'D POST IT MID MAY. I lied. anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this fic, and I'm sorry it took me a month to write... wish me luck for my exams tomorrow, and as always, this is not how I depict the idols in real life! This is fiction!
Word count: 19.1k (I yap too much)
Dividers from @saradika-graphics & @chrisssiren
Your phone had been buzzing every two minutes, a message notification coming from an unsaved number appearing on the top of your screen. Your best friend glanced at the device before looking back at you. “Aren’t you gonna check who’s been blaring your messages for the past twenty minutes?”
“We’re in the lab right now, Shua. I’m not going to check my phone while I’m in the middle of perfecting a blood smear. Speaking of which, give me your finger, I’ve jabbed myself enough times already.”
You grabbed his hand only for him to swat yours away with a soft hiss. “Take Wonwoo’s hand, I’m not sacrificing myself for your experiments.”
“It’s a blood smear. We’re supposed to do this in pairs. And you’re my pair, by the way,” you deadpanned, grabbing your friend’s arm as he whined when you pricked his finger for some blood. You carefully placed the small drop of Joshua’s blood into the glass slide, grabbed the second slide and placed it at a 45-degree angle before your phone buzzed again, causing you to lose your focus and fail to do your task once more.
Taking a deep breath, you tried not to crash out and scream as you grabbed your phone, unlocked it, and checked your messages from the unknown number.
???: Cheol.
???: Cheol, check this out.
???: [sent 1 attachment]
???: I got sushi from that one place just outside campus. I was thinking we could go.
???: Cheooooooooooooooool
???: dude, stop ignoring me 😐
You: I’m not Cheol, and you have the wrong number.
???: There’s no way you’re not Cheol. This is literally the number he gave me.
You: You must’ve saved the wrong number then. Please stop texting me.
???: Why?
You: Uhhh, because I’m not your friend?
???: I mean, we could be :))
You snorted at the logic the stranger you were texting was showing. Glancing around, you continued to text the unknown number while your PI was busy with other undergrads.
You: How?
You: For all you know, I could be a 64-year-old creep.
???: You see, you wouldn’t be saying that if you were actually that old.
???: Plus, no old man would be able to text as quickly as you do.
You: Fair enough.
You: Still, you don’t know me, and you shouldn’t really be spamming a random person’s number.
???: I thought you were my friend, so 🤷
???: Anyway, new friend!
???: What are you up to?
You: I’m in a lab right now, actually.
???: As in you’re a scientist?
You: Undergrad in the Biology department.
You: How about you?
???: Now, now… It won’t be fun if I reveal everything about myself now, will it?
You: You’re so strange.
You: I’m gonna block you now. Nice meeting you, stranger.
???: WAIT WAIT
???: I’m a journalism major. I’m assuming we’re from the same uni?
You: Why would you assume that?
???: Idk, hunch.
You: Okay… I need to go. I don’t want to get in trouble with my PI.
???: Does that mean you won’t block me?
You: I’ll think about it.
You turned off your phone, shaking your head as you grabbed Joshua’s arm again. “One more time.”
“You pricked my finger in the same spot like four times! How consistent can you be?!” Joshua complained as he held his “tortured” finger, as he called it, after you had pricked him four more times during lab. The two of you were walking from the lab towards the exit of the Biology department building to grab lunch at your usual hangout spot, which was the campus cafeteria.
As you shrugged, you shook your head at your best friend and his antics. Your thoughts were too preoccupied with the stranger whom you had texted earlier, wondering what they were up to at the current moment. Deciding to pull out your phone, you checked if they had texted you, but there was nothing.
“Waiting for prince charming to message you?” Joshua peered over your shoulder, which he immediately regretted when you elbowed him.
“I don’t even know if he’s a guy or not.” You rolled your eyes as you pocketed your phone, walking ahead as your friend followed.
Joshua grabbed your phone from your pocket with ease, unlocked it, and checked your messages. “Totally a guy. No girl would message like this.”
“How do you know?” You muttered as you snatched your phone back from your best friend, smacking him gently as you looked through the messages again. He was right. A girl would typically not text like this, and it was just pretty obvious that a guy was texting you, but you didn’t want to assume.
The two of you continued to banter until you got to the cafeteria to meet up with Wonwoo, who had to leave earlier because of a student council meeting. Once all of you had your food, you sat down by the windows and placed your trays on the table. That’s when your phone buzzed, prompting you to check, only to get disappointed when it was an email from your professor about your data analysis report for Statistics.
Wonwoo raised his eyebrow at Joshua, who just shrugged with a fond smile before digging into his food. You noticed the glance your four-eyed friend was giving you and gave up on staying quiet.
“A random number kept texting me these past three days,” you grumbled, taking a bite out of your food. Chewing and swallowing, you continued, “And I just replied to them today during lab.”
Wonwoo raised his brows, intrigued by your situation before speaking. “So… You just ignored them for three days straight?”
“...yes?” You sounded uncertain as Wonwoo hummed, thinking before shaking his head. “What? You thought of something, tell me!”
“No, nothing. I just thought it was strange that you’d ignore them rather than just block them.” He shrugged, and you blinked at his words, realising what he meant.
Right. You usually did block random numbers, but that was when they called! And this guy did not call, so you didn’t feel obligated to block him. Plus, you were pretty curious about the mysterious texter who wanted to “befriend” you.
“Do we know any journalism majors?” You suddenly blurted out, causing Joshua to look at you with a cocked eyebrow.
“Uh, Seungcheol is a journalism major with his friend—what was his name…” he muttered, trying to recall the name of Seungcheol’s friend. “I don’t remember his name, but why?”
You shook your head, trying to dismiss Joshua’s growing suspicions. “Nothing, nothing… It’s just that he said we might be from the same uni.”
Joshua groaned at that, and you knew what that sound meant. You chuckled awkwardly, knowing it was probably a bad idea to meet up with this person without getting to know them first, but hey, at least you were trying to socialise, right?
“You are not going to meet him! What if he’s some serial killer?” You rolled your eyes at your friend’s tendency to exaggerate everything, but Wonwoo seemed to agree with him. A sigh left your lips before raising your hands, as if to say you were forfeiting the idea. For now.
“You should get to know this guy first before meeting him. Stranger danger and all,” Wonwoo murmured while cutting his pork katsu into bite-sized pieces. “We don’t want you to get into unnecessary danger.”
Your eyes softened at your friend, understanding that they were only looking out for you. Taking another bite of your food, your phone buzzed once more. Expecting another email, you unlocked your phone only to see that the unknown number sent you a picture.
???: [sent 1 attachment]
???: Lunch 😋
You: Huh.
???: What?
You: We are from the same uni, after all.
???: So, my hunch proves to be correct!
???: What are you up to?
You: I'm also in the campus cafeteria, with some friends.
???: OoOoh
You: ??
???: Nothing, nothing.
???: I'd say let's meet, but that's a little too early for that 😉
You: My friends and I were actually just talking about that.
You: Stranger danger, so… what's your name?
???: Wouldn't you like to know? What's yours?
You bit your lower lip as you looked up from your phone to check any students in the surrounding vicinity who were on their phones—almost everyone. A sigh left your lips before you typed out your name and hit send.
???: Cute name
???: I'm Jeonghan. At your humble service.
You: Jeonghan, huh? You know I could just search you up in the student files on the uni website, right?
Jeonghan: But what would be the fun in that, sweets?
You: ‘sweets’?
Jeonghan: You sound sweet, so sweets 🤷🏻
Jeonghan: Anyway, let's set up some rules!
You: For what???
Jeonghan: Since we're from the same uni and all, we're bound to bump into each other.
You: The journalism department and biology department are on opposite ends of campus.
Jeonghan: We could share classes, you never know, sweets.
Jeonghan: Anyways, rules! One, you're forbidden from searching me up on the school website and vice versa. It's more fun if we don't know what we look like for now.
Jeonghan: Two, no asking around people on campus if they know who we are. That'd be cheating.
Jeonghan: Three, we update each other on our day-to-day to get to know each other better until we're ready to meet. And wanting to meet needs to be mutual, so if one doesn't want to, we can't meet.
You: So, you want this to be like a game?
Jeonghan: Kind of? It'll be fun :)
Jeonghan: So, what do you say, sweets?
You: What if I say no?
Jeonghan: Then I will never text you again, and we will go on with our lives as strangers.
Jeonghan: But I know you're interested, so please say yes.
You: Whatever, sure.
Jeonghan: Perfect. I knew I could count on you 😗
You: Don't ever send that emoji again, or I'm blocking you.
Jeonghan: Got it 🫡
“Having fun texting the stranger?” You almost jumped out of your seat when Joshua spoke up, prompting you to smack him.
“His name’s Jeonghan.” You glanced back at your screen to check if he had sent anything else, but there was just a gif with confetti. A soft snort left your mouth at that before you shook your head. “He's strange, but I'm only a human, and humans get curious.”
Joshua rolled his eyes, finishing his lunch as he stole a fry from your tray. “Just eat your food, you've been texting the guy for the past ten minutes. We have Statistics after this.”
A groan left your lips at that, disliking Statistics out of all of your lectures for the day. You'd rather have lab all day with your strict PI rather than Statistics with your notoriously annoying professor. You finished your lunch quickly and said goodbye to Wonwoo, who had a different lecture from you and Joshua.
“Who's got you smiling like that, dude?” Seungcheol sat across from Jeonghan as the latter cleared his throat before pocketing his phone.
“No one, what are you talking about?” Jeonghan shoved a couple of fries into his mouth, pretending like he wasn't just giggling to himself like some moron after texting you. His best friend raised his eyebrows, unimpressed as he sighed.
“You were texting her, weren't you?” Seungcheol noted the way Jeonghan glanced away, neck and ears burning as he sighed. “Dude, I gave you her number so you could introduce yourself! Not that you could convince her you had the wrong number.”
“I did introduce myself, kind of…” Jeonghan muttered, looking back at Seungcheol with a pleading glance. “I made this whole thing—I'll get to know her through texting, and we'll meet each other once we're ready—”
“Or you could just stop complicating this for yourself and introduce yourself to her like a normal human being?” Seungcheol deadpanned, crossing his arms as Jeonghan groaned. Only if it were that simple.
Jeonghan didn't have the guts to approach you and talk to you as he usually would with other people. He wasn't sure why, but something was stopping him from acting like himself—maybe it was because he didn't want to give you the wrong first impression? He couldn't figure it out, but what he did want was to get to know you better, and this was one way to do it.
He was so surprised when Seungcheol mentioned that he knew you, having taken some classes together during freshman year. He was even more surprised when Seungcheol told him he had your number. That's what got him into the situation he was in—texting you without you knowing that he was just one person away.
“Seriously, Hannie… She'll like you. You're funny, and she's a simple soul, she's practical, and if you play your cards right, she might agree on a date.” Seungcheol looked at his best friend with a sympathetic smile, but Jeonghan was convinced his way was better.
And he'd go through with this plan until he was ready to actually reveal himself.
Statistics was as boring as ever, but you promised yourself you'd actually focus this semester. While writing down your notes in your notebook, you couldn't help but feel someone's gaze on you. You turned your head in the direction you could feel the gaze from, and met someone’s eyes before they hurriedly looked away. Strange.
That’s when you noticed the person he was sitting next to. Seungcheol.
You turned back to your notes, curious about the guy sitting next to the friend you had made during freshman year. They were both probably journalism majors, so maybe they knew Jeonghan. Not like you could ask—it was a part of the rules of the game your next textmate decided to make up.
When the lecture ended, you decided to walk up to Seungcheol and his friend, telling Joshua to go ahead, and that you’d catch up with him later.
“Hey, Seungcheol…” You greeted awkwardly, not having seen him in quite some time due to your busy schedule.
The man in front of you immediately perked up when you came up to him, greeting you back with a hug. “Hey, it’s been a while! This is my friend Jeonghan—augh…”
“He meant Jung Han. My name’s Han. Hi,” Jeonghan murmured after elbowing his friend in the rib before shaking your hand with a smile. You gave him a small one back, letting go of his hand after a beat.
“Nice to meet you, Han. I guess, uhm… I’ll see you guys around? I still have to head to the lab to check on my samples—”
“Hannie can walk you there! He has, uh, he has a class not too far from there, yeah.” Seungcheol nudged Jeonghan forward, making you blink at both of them. You weren’t really against the idea, and Jeonghan was quite the looker.
You decided and hummed, nodding. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”
The two of them looked at each other, as if they were communicating with each other telepathically, before Jeonghan smiled at you and offered his arm. “Shall we?”
The bold action caused you to snort and take his arm, telling yourself that you could get out of your comfort zone just this once.
“So, Han,” you started, and he hummed, looking down at you as the two of you walked arms linked with each other. “How’d you and Seungcheol meet each other?”
“Hmm, I think it was kindergarten. Why?” He asked back, and you just shrugged, seeming to be curious about the guy you were currently walking with. Jeonghan had this charm to him that you couldn’t place, but he seemed to be a little awkward, even when he was just walking with you.
You wanted to talk to him. You wanted to ask questions you normally wouldn’t have. Jeonghan was just that type of guy you’d want to actually get to know for some reason. Usually, you wouldn’t even be this touchy with a person you just met, putting them at arm’s length, but he just made it a bit easier to open up to.
So, you talked. Asked questions about him like the curious researcher you were, noting everything down mentally as you listened.
When you got in front of the Biology department building, you unlinked your arm from his before smiling. “This is me… Thanks for walking me here. You really didn’t have to.”
“Nah, it was my pleasure. It was fun talking to you, swee—I mean, uhh… yeah, fun talking to you.” He scratched the back of his ear, giving you an awkward chuckle. “See you around!”
Jeonghan gave you a salute before he turned and hurriedly walked away. You faltered, wanting to call out for him to ask for his number, but he was already out of earshot. A soft sigh left your lips before you decided to head into the building to check on your precious samples in the lab with a giggle.
“Stop fucking giggling like an evil scientist,” Joshua muttered from behind you as he smacked you with his clipboard. You frowned, rubbing the back of your head as you glared at your best friend. “So, who was the guy you had your arms linked with~?”
You rolled your eyes, knowing Joshua would want to know about what he saw. “Nothing, Seungcheol offered him to walk me, and I agreed.”
“Just like that? You? Agree for some guy to walk you all across campus?” He raised an eyebrow, and you sighed. “What’s the guy’s name?”
“Jung Han,” you murmured, and Joshua’s eyes widened.
“Jeonghan? Like the guy you’re texting?”
“No, no—Jung Han. Two separate people. His name’s Han.” You explained, and your best friend made an ‘O’ shape with his mouth before furrowing his brows and grumbling to himself. “What?”
“I was sure Seungcheol’s friend’s name was Jeonghan, though, but eh, I must’ve misheard.” Joshua tilted his head to the side, clicking his tongue softly before dragging you into the lab room, where a few people were already conducting their research in their own workbenches. You didn’t linger on your friend’s words, focusing on the bacterial samples you had in the small lab refrigerator instead.
Twenty minutes into conducting research and writing your thesis, your phone buzzed, distracting you from your task as you glanced at the device before looking back at your laptop. You contemplated whether it was worth getting distracted, glancing around as Joshua seemed to be preoccupied with sending you random memes on Instagram. So, you decided to abandon writing your thesis to check whatever Joshua might’ve sent you before seeing a message from Jeonghan.
Jeonghan: [sent 1 attachment]
Jeonghan: The sunset’s pretty.
Jeonghan: Like you probably.
You: Are you flirting with me?
Jeonghan: uhhhhhhhhh
Jeonghan: If I am, would you let me?
You: I don’t know.
Jeonghan: wdym you don’t know? :(
You: If you send me one more sunset pic, I’ll consider saying yes.
Jeonghan: [sent 7 attachments]
Jeonghan: Are these enough?
You stifled a giggle, covering your mouth before replying to his message. You found Jeonghan entertaining, so you indulged in whatever he was trying to do.
You: You’re weird, you know that?
Jeonghan: Yes, you’ve called me strange before, I know
You: [sent 1 attachment]
You: I’m in the lab conducting research right now.
You: Lowkey bored :// My best friend keeps sending me reels instead of helping me.
Jeonghan: That’s cute
Jeonghan: The Sanrio sticker on your laptop, I mean
Jeonghan: Who’s your fav character?
You: Cinnamoroll.
Jeonghan: Noted 😉
You: For what?
Jeonghan: That’s a surprise for the future, sweets.
You: What if I don’t like surprises? What then?
Jeonghan: Ehhh, I think that you do like surprises, you’re just trying to throw me off my game
Jeonghan: But that won’t work! Because I can foresee the future.
You: And that future is?
Jeonghan: You and me on a date :)
You: Right. I’m blocking you.
Jeonghan: NO— WAIT PLEASE
Jeonghan: I was too forward. I apologise.
Jeonghan: One more chance, I beg of you, sweets.
Jeonghan: No date. Unless you change your mind.
Jeonghan: Sweets?
You decided to leave him on read with that, wanting to cackle to yourself. Instead, you settled with a slightly off-putting giggle, prompting the people around you to send you side glances, which also happened to be your best friend. Joshua threw a pipette at you, hitting you square in the forehead, pulling you out of your weird state.
“Stop giggling to yourself like that, weirdo. You’re creeping me out.”
You flipped him off, grumbling to yourself as you dove back into your research with a soft smile on your lips when you glanced at the Cinnamoroll sticker on your laptop.
It was late when you got back home to your apartment, tiptoeing inside so as not to wake your roommate—Minghao—up. It had been a long day, and you were exhausted, so instead of scurrying to your bedroom, you crashed on the leather couch you and Hao had bought last year, deciding to invest in a good couch instead of keeping the old, ratty one that was provided by your landlord.
Your phone buzzed, surprising you. It was 1:04 AM. Why was he still up? You unlocked your device and pressed the notification.
Jeonghan: u still up?
You: Why are you up?
Jeonghan: Couldn't sleep 🤷🏻
Jeonghan: You?
You: Just got back from the lab.
You: I worked on my thesis and didn't realise it was late.
Jeonghan: Ahhhh, I see..
Jeonghan: Do you wanna play 20 questions?
You raised your eyebrow at that, sitting up and leaning against the backrest as you thought about it. Jeonghan was a complete stranger to you—but you just continued indulging him because he was interesting. You thought about the other Jeonghan—or Jung Han, as he insisted, but you couldn't really take it seriously. Probably coincidental that they had the same name.
You: What the hell, why not?
You: Who starts?
Jeonghan: You can :)
You: Were you serious about that date?
Jeonghan: Oho, straight to the hard questions, huh? I can't say I don't like it.
Jeonghan: Maybe… Why?
Jeonghan: U interested? 😉
You: Those two count as two separate questions, so I'll answer them and get two questions myself.
You: Nothing in particular, I was just wondering if you were serious or not, and no, I'm not interested. Not yet anyway.
You: What’s your favourite colour?
Jeonghan: 👀
Jeonghan: Woah, woah— backtrack, little lady
Jeonghan: wdym “not yet”??
You: I don't know you, so.
Jeonghan: Fair enough..
Jeonghan: Oh, and my favourite colour is black.
You: Hm.. why would you want to go out with me? You don't even know what I look like.
Jeonghan: Does it matter if I do?
Jeonghan: Don't count that as an actual question; it was rhetorical
Jeonghan: And to answer your question—why not? You're interesting, and I find texting you quite fun, even when you threaten to block me or text like a robot sometimes.
You: I do not text like a robot! 😡
Jeonghan: Sorry to break it to you, sweets, but you do, painfully so. But it's part of the charm that tugs me towards you 😉
You: Your turn.
Jeonghan: Right. Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Jeonghan: Oh! What's your favourite movie?
You: I, uh… 27 dresses. And How to Lose a Man in 10 days. Both romcoms, yes.
Jeonghan: That's cute
Jeonghan: Will be sure to watch them and tell u what I think about them
You: What are your hobbies?
Jeonghan: Hmmm.. That’s a difficult question. But I like playing football (not the American one, I'm a little too unqualified for that), sleeping and taking care of my pet rock ^^
You: You have a pet rock?
Jeonghan: That's two questions, sweetheart, but yeah, I do.
Jeonghan: [sent 1 attachment]
Jeonghan: Its name is Doljjong :)
You: That's…
You: That’s cute.
Jeonghan: Thanks
Jeonghan: How about you? What are your hobbies?
You bit your lower lip at that, contemplating whether or not to share something so close to your heart with a stranger. Deciding not to linger on it, you typed out your answer.
You: I like to read.
Jeonghan: Just that?
You: And, uh, I guess I like to draw sometimes.
Jeonghan: Okay, okay, cool
Jeonghan: Can I ask a more personal question?
You: Uh, sure.
Jeonghan: Do you have a boyfriend?
You: No.
Jeonghan: Why not?
You: Too busy.
Jeonghan: Would you like to have one then?
You: Good night, Jeonghan.
Jeonghan: Worth a shot
Jeonghan: Night, sweets.
You sighed, chickening out before the questions got too intense, not wanting to reveal too much, too soon. Your cheeks couldn't help but warm at the incessant flirting from Jeonghan, unsure why he was so interested in your love life when he barely knew you.
“He's so weird…” You muttered to yourself as you lay back down on the couch.
“Who’s weird?” You shot back up when you heard Minghao’s voice, seeing him getting a bottle of water from the fridge.
You shook your head, dismissing his question with a wave of your hand. “Nothing, just muttering to myself.”
That seemed to satisfy Minghao's fleeting curiosity as he padded back to his room, leaving you alone once more, your head hitting one of the throw pillows while you thought about your new contact and Jung Han.
“Seriously, you’ve been texting the guy for five days now, and you're thinking about meeting him already?”
Joshua shook his head, still disapproving of the idea of you meeting your phone pen pal. You had been texting Jeonghan for almost a week, and you enjoyed talking to him more often than you didn't. You found yourself liking his free personality, the way he seemed to just be himself through the phone, open with you as he shared little moments of his life without revealing too much. And you did the same; you gave him a piece of your peaceful life, sharing small stories about your experiences at the lab or just talking about your day-to-day, just like you agreed upon.
You found yourself truly befriending the guy who accidentally texted your number.
A groan left Joshua’s lips as he sighed. “Give it more time, get to know him better before you actually agree to something serious. I don't want you coming home crashing out because he wasn't the guy you expected him to be.”
“What guy?” You suddenly hear a voice behind you, turning to see none other than Jeonghan Han. Your expression seemed to change when you saw him, your face a little brighter as he sat down beside you.
“Oh, uh, nothing. Just the guy I’ve been texting.” You shrugged as he rested his arm around the backrest of your chair before stealing a fry from your tray.
You and Jeonghan had also been spending some time with each other, getting to know each other as you talked through Instagram DMs. He sent you funny memes and made sure to remind you to drink water. He was friendly and charming, but not in the same way as the Jeonghan you’ve been texting over the phone.
Jeonghan felt bad for lying to you like this, wanting to come clean, but he was in way too deep within his two personas he was showing—the strange charmer over the phone, aka the real him, and whatever this ‘Jung Han’ persona was. It was baffling how you couldn’t connect the dots. He shook it off as he glanced at you with the usual look he always sent your way—yearning and admiring. Even Joshua could notice it, your best friend clearing his throat and coughing.
“I’ll leave you two alone. I don’t feel like third-wheeling. See you during lab.” Joshua got up from his seat, giving the two of you a wave before leaving with his tray. Jeonghan chuckled awkwardly at that, while you just hummed and continued eating your food in soft silence.
“Tell me about that guy you’re texting.” Jeonghan suddenly blurted out, prompting you to pause and look at him. He seemed curious, his eyes darting around before looking back at you.
“I… I mean, he’s nice. I like talking to him. He’s a little strange, but I guess that’s the part of his charm,” you murmured, smiling as you took a bite of your food, chewing and swallowing before continuing, “He’s asked me out about three times, but I turned him down since it’s only been five days. But we do have a few things in common.”
“Yeah? Like what?” Jeonghan’s heart seemed to clench at how enthusiastically you talked about him to him, feeling jealous of his own self for knowing more about you and not being able to voice it out. It was ridiculous.
“I know I shouldn’t want to meet up with him, but I really want to. I want to see him and talk with him about all the things I talked about. Do you… Do you get what I mean?” You fidgeted with the napkin on your tray, glancing at Jeonghan as he nodded. You didn’t seem to notice how he tensed up, his jaw clenching before he relaxed.
Jeonghan then decided to tuck a few strands of hair away from your face, making you blink and flush when he leaned in. “You like him that much?” He sounded a bit hurt, eyes softening as he continued, “What about me?”
“Wh–what about you?” You mustered out, not moving away as his fingers found your shoulder, gently touching.
“Nothing, nevermind…” He chuckled, but it sounded strained as he moved back, ruffling your hair. “I have a lecture soon, pretty, I’ll see you later, okay?”
You faltered, confused as he got up and grabbed his bag, leaving you all alone at your table, your thoughts filled with nothing but his words. What about me?
Jeonghan wanted to scream into his pillow—well, Seungcheol’s pillow. He was currently in his best friend’s dorm at Beta Sigma Tau’s fraternity house. They were supposed to be writing an article about some topic Jeonghan had already forgotten, focused on his phone instead.
“You should just tell her, man. Stop being a wimp.” His best friend turned to Jeonghan as he sighed at his whining.
“I tried, Cheol… But something in me just flaked out, and I couldn’t bring myself to break it to her. What if she hates me for it?” He sat up, hugging the pillow as he checked your messages—both on Instagram and on his number. Nothing. He wondered if you had figured it out and decided to actually block him—
Ding!
Jeonghan immediately unlocked his phone to see that you had sent him a picture.
He almost fainted on the spot.
It was you in a pretty, baby blue sundress that ended at your mid-thigh, the sleeves puffy, making you look like a modern-day princess. Your face was covered by your phone, obviously not wanting to reveal it yet, even if he knew what you looked like, but this was the first time you’d sent anything remotely involving your looks.
You: Does this dress look okay?
Jeonghan: Yes.
You: Woah, that’s a serious response.
Jeonghan: Sorry, I was just so uh
Jeonghan: Surprised, ig?
Jeonghan: But you look very pretty, sweets
Jeonghan: Are... are you going on a date, mayhaps?
You: Maybe.
You: Jk, I’m not, I just wanted to know what you thought of the dress.
Jeonghan’s heart almost dropped when he saw that first message, before you followed it up with the second one. He didn’t realise he was holding in his breath as he let it out, making Seungcheol side-eye him, but he was too focused on texting you.
Jeonghan: I think the dress is lovely
Jeonghan: Will you wear it on our first date?
You: Maybe.
Jeonghan: You and your ‘maybe’s, just say yes or no, baby
You: Pffft
You: Ask me out again.
Jeonghan: Are you fr right now?
You: If you don’t do it in the next 10 seconds
Jeonghan: Sweets, sweetheart, will you go out on a date with me?
You: Yes.
Jeonghan got up from Seungcheol’s bed, startling his best friend as he re-read your answer before screaming, “SHE SAID YES—”
“What?” Seungcheol grimaced when Jeonghan’s voice cracked as the latter started jumping around like some madman.
“She said yes, dude, I’m going out on a date with her—fuck.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, already thinking of the plethora of things he wanted to do before coming up with a whole idea of where to bring you and whatnot.
This was going to be the perfect date.
Your heart was beating out of your chest. You said yes. You said yes. To a date with Jeonghan, a stranger you just met five days ago. Usually, your instincts told you to run in the opposite direction, but this time, it was telling you not to run away. Like this was meant to happen.
The two of you had agreed that you’d see each other on Saturday, which was four days away, giving the two of you some time to prepare. Prepare for what exactly? You weren’t sure, but you definitely needed the time.
You were currently on your way home, listening to music as you managed to bump into Jeonghan. He seemed as surprised as you were; his face was slightly flushed as if he was in a rush. He murmured your name as you took your headset off.
“Hey—”
“Hi—”
The two of you said in unison as you paused and smiled with a soft giggle. Jeonghan scratched the back of his ear—something he did when he was nervous, as you noted a couple of days prior.
You spoke up first, your expression full of wonder. “Where were you headed from?”
“Oh–uh, from Cheol’s place. We were supposed to do this one article, but I forgot the topic.” He chuckled, standing there as he put his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “I’m guessing you were going home from the lab?”
“Bingo.” You did finger guns, also pocketing your hands into your jacket. Your thoughts lingered on that moment you had in the cafeteria earlier that day, but you didn’t bother mentioning it.
Jeonghan seemed to hesitate, but spoke up after a beat, “Do you want to come over to my place?”
He blurted out, prompting you to pause. You checked your watch before looking at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, but I’m running late. My roommate wants me to eat dinner with him and his friends. We’re having Chinese. Maybe next time, though?”
“Oh—uh, yeah, sure…” Jeonghan smiled, hiding his disappointment and understanding that you had prior plans. That’s when he remembered about the party that was going to be hosted at Seungcheol’s fraternity.
“Hey, wait,” he managed to grab your wrist before you could leave. “There’s a party at Cheol—I mean Seungcheol’s fraternity this Friday.”
You blinked at him, pursing your lips slightly before cracking a soft smile. “I’m not really the partying type, Han.”
“I–I know! But we don’t have to stay downstairs. I’m sure Seungcheol won’t mind if we stay in his room. We could play Uno, or something.” He rubbed his neck, looking at you hopefully.
You thought about it for a second before sighing softly and nodding, “Yeah, I’ll go. Just don’t leave me alone there, alright? I’m sacrificing my precious Friday lab plans for this.” You joked as Jeonghan let go of your wrist, letting you leave as he found himself groaning when you were out of earshot.
You, on the other hand, were groaning for another reason. Not only were you sacrificing your precious time at the lab, but you were also juggling between two guys at this point! You felt guilty, but at the same time, it wouldn’t hurt to go, right? You were going there as his friend.
Shaking your head, you decided to stop thinking about it as you headed back to your apartment so you could eat with Minghao, Jun, and Soonyoung.
“I’m home!” You shouted from the front door as you slipped your shoes off, padding over to the kitchen to see Minghao cooking, while Jun and Soonyoung were trying to beat your record in Mario Kart in the living room. You could smell the aroma of the food Hao was cooking, going over to the stove before grabbing a spoon from one of the drawers and trying the soup.
Your roommate smacked your hand before you could grab another bite of the meat. “It’s not done yet, you impatient—”
Soonyoung, who called your name from the couch, cut Minghao off from cursing you out, and you smiled innocently at him before heading over to where your roommate’s friend was. “I beat your record! Give me the crown!”
“Oh yeah? Watch me beat your record—” You were about to grab the console from him when your phone buzzed. It was Jeonghan. An involuntary smile formed on your lips as you sat down on the armchair, not too far from the couch, before unlocking your phone. Soonyoung looked at Minghao, who just rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Jeonghan: [sent 1 attachment]
Jeonghan: I miss you, sweets
You: Are you in the bath, Jeonghan?
Jeonghan: Uhhhhhh
Jeonghan: Yes?
You: I—Okay…
You: Also, you can’t miss me.
Jeonghan: Why not?
You: We haven’t met yet?
Jeonghan: I can miss my future girl, yk
You: Bold of you to assume I’ll be your future girl.
Jeonghan: You already agreed to go out with me.
Jeonghan: No take-backsies
You: Yeah, yeah. I know.
You: Have you planned out the date or…?
Jeonghan: Ofc I have, sweetheart
Jeonghan: Don’t worry your pretty little head abt it
You: If you say so.
You: I trust you.
You then contemplated whether or not to tell him about the party he Han invited you to. Shrugging, you decided to tell him, not thinking much of it.
You: Also… There’s this party I’m going to.
Jeonghan: Oh?
Jeonghan: My sweet geek is going to a party?
You: I am, yes. Surprising.
You: A friend invited me, so.
You: Would you like to come?
Three dots appeared and disappeared as Jeonghan typed, making you feel anxious. Was it a good idea to invite him when you were supposed to hang out with the person who invited you? You shook your head, focusing when Jeonghan finally replied to your message.
Jeonghan: Sorry, sweets, but I’ll be busy this Friday ://
Jeonghan: As much as I wanna meet you faster, I’d rather see you during our date, having fun instead of getting wasted
You: Valid point.
Jeonghan: I do hope you have fun with your friend though :))
You: I mean… we’re probably going to his friend’s room and play Uno or something since I’m not a party person.
Jeonghan: So your friend is a him.
Jeonghan: Cool.
You: Jeonghan, it’s not like that.
Jeonghan: 🙁
You: Jeonghan, you can’t be serious.
Jeonghan: MY FUTURE GIRL IS ALREADY CHEATING ON ME 🙁
You: I AM NOT.
Jeonghan: Gotcha
Jeonghan: You agreed that you’re my future girl 😍
You: I’m literally gonna block you.
Jeonghan: No you won’t <3
You sighed and shook your head, unable to stop yourself from smiling as Soonyoung gently nudged you with his foot. “Yah, why are you smiling like that? It’s creeping me out—Hao, why is she smiling like that?”
“She’s got a boyfriend.” Minghao rolled his eyes as you glared at your roommate. “Tell me I'm wrong.”
“He's not my boyfriend!” You argued, huffing softly as your roommate scoffed out a laugh.
“Right, and you don’t text him almost every day when you have free time.” He deadpanned, causing you to groan and threaten to throw a pillow at him before he sent you a glare back. “Plus, you bought that new dress when we went out, which means that you’re probably going to meet him soon—I’m presuming Saturday?”
“I—” You sputtered before clenching your jaw, kind of expecting this from Minghao. He just knew things, forces of the universe or whatever. Before you could even linger on the fact that he knew about your date, Soonyoung and Jun were tackling each other over the last pocky stick.
When dinner was ready and served on the table, the four of you dug in, but not before you took a picture of it and sent it to Jeonghan Han’s DMs.
You: [yourusername sent a photo]
You: Dinner with the goofs :))
Hannie 🩷: Have a good dinner, pretty :)
You: thank you, Hannie :3
You: Have you had dinner yet?
Hannie 🩷: Yeah, I just got out of the shower and made some ramyeon
You: I’d say you should have more than just convenience store ramyeon, but we are broke college students.
Hannie 🩷: Exactly, pretty
You: What time should I come to the frat house?
Hannie 🩷: Oh! I’ll just pick you up from your place, if that’s okay with u
You: Yeah, I don’t mind :))
Hannie 🩷: Perfect :)) I’ll pick you up at 8, since the party starts at 9
You: Alright, I've got to go, my roommate is glaring at me.
You turned off your phone before you could see Jeonghan’s reply, and avoided eye contact with Minghao before he spoke up again. “Who did you send the picture to?”
“Han from Journalism…” You grumbled, and your roommate’s eyebrow cocked in confusion.
“You mean Yoon Jeonghan?” He asked, and you shot him a puzzled look. “That’s the only Han I know from Journalism. You know, Seungcheol’s friend?”
That made you pause. Jeonghan. Han. Seungcheol. Cheol. Cogs turned in your brain until everything clicked. Han was Jeonghan. You agreed to go on a date with the same person who asked you if you wanted to go to a party with him. That’s why he declined your invitation.
You groaned at not being able to realise it sooner, but you didn’t want to do anything about it for now. Jeonghan must’ve had his reasons to keep this from you, so you let it be for the time being.
You got up from your seat, Jun perking up and furrowing his brows slightly. “Did Hao say something wrong?”
“Oh—no, I just figured something out,” you murmured, tilting your head slightly as you muttered to yourself. Before Soonyoung could add anything, your roommate shushed him.
“Leave her be, she probably figured something out about Jeonghan.”
You decided to call Joshua about this about three hours later. It was late—11:09 pm—and you couldn’t sleep. You were wearing a face mask, typing along on your laptop, when your best friend answered your call, also in the middle of his skin care routine.
“Jesus Christ, I thought you were a ghost,” he muttered, and you rolled your eyes at his eccentric comparison. “What is this about? You said it was important, but you just seemed bothered by something.”
“Jeonghan is Han,” you mumbled, and your best friend made a face, not being able to understand you.
“What? Can you repeat that? You literally mumbled it, and I’m not Superman, by the way.” He sassed, putting on his moisturiser. “Jeonghan is who?”
“He’s Han! Like—Like Han, Seungcheol’s friend!”
You explained everything to Joshua, filling him in on everything, and by the time you were done with your rambling, your best friend was done with his skincare routine, and you were removing your sheet mask.
“That’s a lot to unpack, pipsqueak.” He sighed, shaking his head as he sat down on his office chair, propping his phone up against something while probably opening his laptop to write his thesis, just like you. “What do you wanna do about it?”
“I don’t know! I mean, I like him, but which one is the real him, you know?” You groaned softly as you buried your face into your hands without realising what you had just said.
“Wait, go back. What did you say?”
“Which one’s the real him–?” You looked at your phone screen, confused.
“No, dumbass, the other thing.”
“That I liked—oh. Oh.” You finally got what he meant, realising that you liked Jeonghan.
You weren’t sure which version of him you liked more, but you liked him all the same. It made you realise that in the past few days, you’ve known Jeonghan as Seungcheol’s friend and as your phone pen pal, you’ve liked talking to both versions of him. The awkward dork side and the more flirty side of him.
“So, what are you gonna do about it?” Joshua repeated himself, looking at you with a knowing smile.
“I’m gonna go to that party and tell him how I feel?” You sounded unsure, feeling your insecurities grow. Jeonghan knew what you looked like all this time, but you still felt like you weren’t going to be enough for him. You also felt a bit betrayed at the fact that he knew who you were, but you didn’t know who he was—not fully anyway. But that didn’t really matter right now, your priorities set on the fact that you’d confront him during your date and not during the party, not wanting to ruin your chances with Jeonghan by cornering him.
Joshua noticed your conflicted expression and sighed. “You’re going to spiral if you overthink this, pips. And damn right you’re gonna tell him how you feel. If you get cold feet, you have to buy me those Prada sunglasses I told you about for my birthday.”
“Dude, your birthday just happened!” You whined, knowing there was no getting out of this. Not unless you wanted a dent in your bank account anyway.
Sometimes you felt like you called the wrong person when asking for advice, but Joshua was always real with you, and so was Wonwoo. But you didn’t want to impede the latter with your love life problems when all he did was game when he had the time with his busy schedule as both a biology and engineering major. It was surprising that he had time to get lunch with you and Joshua every time.
You continued to talk to Joshua until you finally decided to head to bed, bidding your best friend goodnight and ending the call. A soft sigh left your lips as you took a quick picture of your desk and sent it to Jeonghan’s phone number.
You: [sent 2 attachments]
You: Shit.
You: That second picture wasn’t supposed to get sent.
Jeonghan: Fuck, sweets
You: DON’T LOOK AT IT??
Jeonghan: YOU LITERALLY SENT IT??
Jeonghan: You look hot, though
You: I—thank you.
Jeonghan: Is it weird to admit that I got hard?
You didn’t reply to that, as you wanted to scream your lungs out into your pillow, but it was late, and Minghao would smother you with said pillow if you didn’t shut up. You were experimenting—it was supposed to be something you kept in your gallery and then deleted when you looked too hard at it.
It was you, after your shower, posing a little too riskily for the camera, on your knees in front of your full-length mirror, wearing nothing but a tank top with thin straps, and shorts that were a little too short for your liking. Your face was covered by your phone, but it was obvious that it was meant to be for Jeonghan. You were just too much of a wuss to send it to him now that you knew who he was.
You looked back at your messages, groaning at the fact that you couldn’t turn back time and be more careful with sending pictures from your gallery.
You: That’s rather a bold statement.
Jeonghan: Okay, good you’re back
Jeonghan: Thought you died from embarrassment
Jeonghan: Though there’s really no point in being embarrassed, pretty girl
Jeonghan: [sent 1 attachment]
Oh, fuck. It was a picture of Jeonghan—wearing his sweats and a loose t-shirt that rode up from the position he was lying in. Bulge prominent in his pants.
You: Is that a current pic?
Jeonghan: Yeah
Jeonghan: I don’t send shit like this to anyone else, pretty
You: Do you really think I’m that hot…?
Jeonghan: Don’t do that
You: Do what?
Jeonghan: Belittle yourself. You’re pretty, hot and everything I could ever want, sweetheart.
You: Stop—
Jeonghan: You got me hard for fucks sake
Jeonghan: Do you want me to send myself jerking off just to prove it to you?
You: …
Jeonghan: Too far?
You: Send it.
Jeonghan’s breath hitched when he saw the message. Send it. Fuck. Were you really serious? He bit his lower lip as he palmed himself while looking at the picture you had sent, feeling like some creep for planning to jerk off to such a pretty photo of you. But he’d rather be sure as he typed on his phone with one hand.
Jeonghan: U srs?
You: Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?
Jeonghan: Idk, ppl usually don’t ask for dick pics, let alone someone jerking off…
You: You offered, I accepted it. Now send it, coward.
Jeonghan: You’re so mean to your boyfriend 🙁
You: Future boyfriend***
Jeonghan: I’ll take it
Jeonghan: Brb
Jeonghan shimmied his sweatpants and boxers down, freeing his throbbing cock as he hissed softly at the cold air hitting his sensitive tip. He bit his lower lip as he opened the camera app, his cheeks flushed behind it as he hit record.
He touched his cock, stroking it gently as he rubbed the leaking precum all over his thick girth, grunting and whining softly as he imagined it was you and your pretty mouth sucking him off. Jeonghan groaned out your name as he closed his eyes before they fluttered open once more, so he could focus on recording himself fucking his fist, imagining your breasts that almost spilt out of your tank top and the short shorts that probably barely covered your ass.
“Fuck—” He grunted, feeling himself get closer as he teased his tip, but ended the recording before he could cum, just so he could edge himself. He quickly wiped his hand with a tissue from his nightstand before nervously sending the video to you.
Jeonghan: [sent 1 attachment]
Jeonghan: There—
You: Holy fuck.
Jeonghan: ?
You: Nothing…
Jeonghan: Sweets, I just sent myself jerking off to you, speak up
You: It's embarrassing!
Jeonghan: More than me sending a video of myself?
You: …
You: I'm soaked
You: Like, I didn't know I could secrete so much slick
Jeonghan: Abandoning the punctuation marks, that's a sign
You: Aren't you gonna ask me for anything?
Jeonghan: Not unless you're comfortable with it, sweets
You: [sent 1 attachment]
Jeonghan physically groaned, seeing the picture that you'd sent—bent over, your ass facing the mirror as you took the picture from your bed. He could see the cute posters and knick-knacks you had in your room, but he was zeroed in on your panty-covered mound, slick coating your inner thighs and your panties were soaked.
Jeonghan could feel his cock twitching, and more precum leaked out of his tip. A strangled grunt left his lips as he went back to stroking himself, and making sure he reached his release with the sight of you.
Jeonghan: so fucking pretyy
Jeonghan: gnna bust a nut
You: Jeonghan, I wish you were here…
That was what unravelled him, a choked-out moan leaving his lips as spurts of hot cum shot out of his shaft, coating his lower abdomen and his hands. He embarrassingly snapped a quick photo of it before sending it to you in a post-nut haze.
Jeonghan: [sent 1 attachment]
You: Is that because of me?
Jeonghan: yws
You: ??
Jeonghan: Sorry, yes, I was typing with one hand
Jeonghan: Did you really mean it?
You: Yeah… I'm soaking wet, and I don't know what to do.
Jeonghan: fuck.
Jeonghan: Call me.
You bit your lower lip as you read his message over and over. Call him. Your stomach fluttered at hearing his voice through the phone, even if you knew what he sounded like, but this would confirm everything.
You hastily slipped off your panties, getting comfortable in your bed as you dialled Jeonghan’s phone number. He answered almost immediately, sounding strained and breathless.
“H–hello…?” You murmured, your phone pinched between your cheek and shoulder as you worked on teasing yourself, rubbing your inner thighs with one hand and tweaking your nipples with your other.
“Fuck… you sound so pretty.” Jeonghan's voice sent a jolt to your clit. It was him. Your theories were confirmed, but all you could do was whimper softly when you brushed your fingers against your slippery clit.
“Jeonghan—” You mewled, earning a soft groan from him as you teased yourself. “Need help…”
“I know, baby, I know… What are you doing?” He rasped out, hearing him shift on his bed.
“Teasing myself,” you mumbled, and Jeonghan hummed, listening along with your soft gasps when you rubbed your clit. “Rubbing my clit—”
Another soft grunt left Jeonghan’s lips as you started hearing soft fap fap sounds coming from the other side of the call. “Okay, baby, keep teasing your cute little clit, spread your slick…”
“Okay—hngh…” You mewled, eyes rolling back as you teased and rubbed yourself, your hole fluttering around nothing. “ I feel so empty, Jeonghan—”
“Fuck—put… put your fingers in, fuck yourself with two, scissor yourself, baby. Imagine they're my fingers trying to stretch you out for my cock.”
You whimpered at the command, doing as he said as you inserted two fingers into your sopping cunt, your toes curling as you started pumping your digits in and out and scissoring yourself as he told you to. You imagined him being in your room, talking you through it like he was now, touching you and whispering into your ear.
“Curl your fingers up for me, sweetheart. Come on, it’ll feel good, I promise,” he cooed, and you listened, curling your fingers up to that spongy spot inside you. Your legs trembled, and you gasped, wanting to squeeze your thighs together as you continued to fuck yourself with your fingers. The heel of your palm grazed against your clit, making you whine as you felt the knot in your lower belly forming.
“I'm close, Jeonghannie—” You whimpered out, while Jeonghan grunted over the other side of the line, the slick sounds of him stroking his cock getting faster and a bit louder. It made you imagine the video he had sent—how big and pretty his dick looked, how he moaned out your name. It was dizzying.
“Keep doing what you're doing, baby, you're doing so well for me,” he murmured, praising you as you got closer to your orgasm. “This really wasn't the way I was expecting us to do this, but fuck, this is hot. You're hot.”
You flushed, mewling his name once more before the band in your stomach snapped, and you let out a whiny moan as your walls convulsed around your fingers, coating them with your release. Your legs trembled as you panted, your vision blurry.
“Baby, you still there?” Jeonghan crooned, and you let out a soft “uh-huh”, still recovering from the intense release you had just gone through.
“I… holy shit—” you gasped as you pulled your fingers out of your slick hole, feeling how soaked you were everywhere; you probably ruined your sheets from coming so hard just now. “I—I think I soaked through my sheets.”
“Fuck, don't say that when I'm not there—” Jeonghan sounded whiny, hearing his pout through the phone as you giggled tiredly.
“It's… It's nice to finally hear your voice,” you murmured, your eyes softening as you closed your trembling legs. Jeonghan hummed, shifting in his bed as he put his sweats back on. You moved to the less ruined side of your bed before grabbing some clean panties from your wardrobe and putting them on.
Feeling slightly awkward, you were unsure of what to say to him now that you were done getting off. “Uhm…”
“Sweetheart, you sound tense. Is it awkward to put a voice to the text message?” Jeonghan chuckled, and you let out a soft huff in reply. “As I said earlier, I… I didn't expect to do it like this.”
“Do what?”
“Have phone sex? I'm more of a hands-on person.” He admitted blatantly, causing you to inhale sharply as you imagined Jeonghan’s hands all over you. He caught on to the silence on your end, a soft chuckle leaving him as you trembled at the sound.
“Now, now… Pump your brakes, little lady. We'll get to that point. Let me buy you dinner first.” He teased, and you whined, rolling your eyes but smiling either way.
You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, listening to his soft breathing before speaking up, “I'll see you Saturday?”
“Yeah, pretty. I'll pick you up, hm?”
“Mhm… goodnight, Jeonghan.”
“Goodnight, sweets.”
After that, you hung up, still trembling, but not because of your orgasm, but because of the excitement of seeing Jeonghan on Saturday and the dread of seeing him on Friday, pretending that you hadn't had phone sex with him. You groaned, the post-orgasm haze wearing off as your logical thinking came back.
Friday came faster than you’d expected. You were pacing around your living room like a worrywart while Minghao and Joshua played old maid. You were wearing a baby blue blouse and a white denim mini skirt with white sneakers, wanting to somehow look pretty to the party you were going to without overdressing or looking like a hooker.
Joshua groaned when you kept walking back and forth, having had enough of your worrying. “Dude, stop worrying. You'll confront him about it when you're ready.”
“What if he figures out I know?! What if I blurt it out or something—”
“You're worrying about the stupidest of things, you know that?” Minghao deadpanned, drawing a card from Joshua as the latter groaned when he lost. “The two of you are fucking idiots.”
“Hey—” you were about to argue, but the doorbell rang, prompting you to pad over to the front door and check the peephole to see Jeonghan. Unlocking and opening the door, you greeted him with a smile and a quick hug.
“Hi,” you squeaked, earning a raised eyebrow from him as you grabbed your purse and keys. “I'm leaving!”
You called out to your friends, and they bid you goodbye. “Don't get her near alcohol, she's a lightweight!”
Joshua warned Jeonghan, and you groaned, flipping your best friend off as you closed the door and started walking. Jeonghan offered his arm, and you gladly took it with a soft laugh.
“You look pretty,” Jeonghan murmured, his eyes softening as you flushed under his gaze. Was he always this handsome up close? Your heart couldn't help but flutter, and your body heated up a bit.
You could handle this. Maybe.
The two of you got to the frat house about fifteen minutes later, entering the loud establishment—music boomed from the speakers, and the place was packed with drunk college students, dancing and shouting at each other to hear what the other was saying. Jeonghan led you up the stairs, opening the door to what seemed like Seungcheol’s room.
“He lives in the dorm by himself?” You looked around, surprised to see only one bed, the rest of the vast space filled with a beanbag and a small couch, along with a desk in the corner by the windows.
“I mean, we used to live together before I decided to move out. And since he's the chapter president, he gets to have a dorm to himself.”
Jeonghan shrugged, humming uncommittally as he sat down on the bed, patting the free space beside him, causing you to gulp. Act natural.
You sat down beside him, pretending like the brush of his knee against yours didn't just ignite your skin on fire. He was acting fine, so you should too, right? You technically didn't know Jeonghan was Jeonghan, after all. Your hands were on your lap, and you sat there as Jeonghan looked around the room to see what the two of you could do while the party got crazier downstairs, the music getting louder, and students got rowdier.
“Do you have anything we can do—”
“We can play Uno if you want—”
The two of you said in unison, looking at each other before bursting into soft laughter, and that seemed to break the ice almost immediately. You nodded at the idea of a game of Uno.
“What does the winner get?” You asked, and Jeonghan looked up as if he thought hard about it.
“Hmm, how about a kiss on the cheek?” He offered, and you squinted your eyes at him playfully before he added, “And snacks.”
“You drive a good bargain, Han…” You murmured, touching your chin as you thought about it, humming and making a face that made him laugh.
“I'll take it. The winner gets a kiss on the cheek and snacks!”
At the start of the game, you seemed to have been taking the lead, managing to get to one card first before Jeonghan just smirked and shook his head.
“You underestimate my skills, sweetheart,” he cooed, the nickname sending a jolt down your spine as the memories of last night came flooding back before it got cut short when Jeonghan placed a wild draw four card on the deck.
You groaned, pouting slightly as you picked four cards from the deck, not having any colour Jeonghan had announced as he placed a blue eight. You picked another card, managing to place a red eight as he clicked his tongue. Your body froze when he shook his head again, placing a red skip card before a red draw two card, which caused you to retaliate with a yellow draw two card, and he clicked his tongue again.
“You sure you wanna play this game, pretty girl?” He tutted, and you looked at him with growing dread as he placed a blue draw two card, forcing you to pick up six cards, leaving him with five cards and you with ten.
Both of you went back and forth until you managed to get three cards left while Jeonghan had two. You bit your lower lip as you looked at your cards—a blue four and a red draw two card. The deck currently had a red eight card, and you were thinking whether or not to place the draw two card or to just pick another card from the deck.
Deciding to take a risk, you place the draw two card, glancing at his reaction. He kept a straight face before sighing. “Sometimes, I wonder if the forces are working against me.”
“Uno, Jeonghan. Your move.”
He picked out the first card from the deck before pausing and glancing at you. You held your breath as he picked out the two cards, having nothing to place in retaliation. He had five cards while you had one. Not like you could place the one you had, so you had to pick another card. A yellow stop card. You wanted to groan, but kept it in as you watched Jeonghan’s moves.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” He looked at you with a pensive expression before he apologised, making you look at him confusedly.
“Huh–?” That’s when he placed two wild draw four cards, two wild cards and a blue reverse card, ending the game with your loss.
You just lost.
You lost Uno—the only card game you were probably good at—to Jeonghan.
“A kiss on the cheek is owed to me, my lady,” he teased, grinning as you groaned, rolling your eyes before leaning in and kissing his cheek. Jeonghan hummed at the action, and you couldn’t help but linger in his vicinity as you looked at him up close.
Jeonghan seemed to notice how you were looking at him, and his grin softened to a soft smile. “Careful, sweetheart, I might think you have a thing for me.”
That made you reel back with a flush to your cheeks, hitting his shoulder as he snorted out a laugh. That’s when he stood up, confusing you before he motioned towards one of Seungcheol’s drawers.
“He keeps his snacks here. We can eat them since he’s probably just hoarding them for when he feels like it.” He took out a bag of chips and a box of strawberry pocky. You grabbed the pocky and opened it, while Jeonghan continued to snoop in Seungcheol’s drawer before whistling lowly.
You looked at him with a quizzical brow, and he took out what looked like a blunt of weed. “Is that—”
“Sure looks like it…” Jeonghan murmured, glancing around the room before finding a lighter. “Wanna smoke it with me?”
The question hung in the air as you looked at Jeonghan. He seemed chill about the whole thing, probably had smoked weed before, but you never tried to in your four years of uni. He sat back down on the bed, leaning against the headboard, tilting his head to the side before offering you the blunt.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t smoked weed before.”
“I haven’t.” You admitted, and Jeonghan’s eyes softened. “But I’d like to try.”
Jeonghan lit the blunt soon after your approval, taking a drag out of it and handing it to you to try. You awkwardly held the blunt between your fingers, taking a drag before you started to cough, handing the weed back to him as he patted your back while you tried to recover from the burn down your throat.
“I—fuck, I underestimated the strength of it. Sorry,” Jeonghan apologised softly, still rubbing your back. “How about I shotgun you? It’ll be easier on you, but the effect will be weaker, so…”
“Y-yeah, I think that’ll be better.” You nodded, looking at him with teary eyes after practically coughing your lungs out. “How do we do it?”
You asked, and he glanced away awkwardly before patting his lap. “You’ll have to get close, sweetheart. I will be exhaling smoke into your mouth after all.”
Ah. That made sense. Something in your stomach flipped as you looked at his lap before back at his face, and you made your way to straddle him, slightly hovering.
“Inhale when I exhale into your mouth.” Jeonghan took another puff out of the blunt, taking your chin between his index finger and thumb, prying your mouth agape before blowing the smoke into your mouth. You did as he said and inhaled, taking in the smoke as you felt the weed affecting you already due to its potency.
With a couple of more exchanges, and you could feel yourself getting high, sitting snugly on Jeonghan’s lap while he talked about something random from his childhood, while you fed him pocky. The two of you had probably gone through half of the blunt before Jeonghan decided to place it down on the ashtray he had found earlier. His hands found your hips, and you didn’t mind the touch one bit as you fed him another pocky stick.
“Play the pocky game with me,” he murmured, his eyes half-lidded as you hummed and agreed without a second thought. You placed one end of the long pocky stick between his teeth while you started biting the other end, getting closer and closer to his lips.
When your noses bumped against each other, and you were about to take the last bite, Jeonghan took the rest of the pocky stick into his mouth before stealing a kiss from you, prompting you to gasp. He didn’t seem to be sorry as he bumped his nose against yours.
“Was that okay?” Jeonghan whispered, and you nodded gently, already leaning in for more as his grip on your hips tightened. “Tell me, baby.”
“Yeah, Hannie, I liked it…” You murmured back before pressing another kiss to his lips, forgetting all about the pocky as your hands travelled to the back of his head and you tangled your fingers in his hair.
A groan left Jeonghan’s lips as he kissed you back, his hands roaming around your waist down to your thighs, pushing your skirt higher. “Fuck, is this okay?”
He muttered against your lips, fiddling with the hem of your mini skirt, his eyes searching your face for any hint of disapproval. There was none, and you only tugged gently on his hair.
“Touch me, Jeonghan…” you murmured, and a soft noise left him as you said his name. He was too high to realise, and too focused on pushing your skirt up to your hips to care.
When you ground yourself against him, he panted, his dick stirring in his sweatpants as he watched your panty-clad cunt grind against his growing erection. A curse left Jeonghan’s lips when you ducked your head down, kissing his neck as he guided your hips.
“Just like that, sweetheart, mnh…” He grunted as he saw the wet patch forming against his pants, and your panties were probably soaked from the stimulation. He leaned his head back against the headboard, dizzy with pleasure and the weed working through his system. “I want to fuck you so bad, but I can't—”
He choked out, and you whined. “Why not?”
Jeonghan's hazed brain cleared for a moment, knowing that he didn't want this to happen this way—not when you didn't know who he was yet. Not when he was pretending to be someone else.
“Jeonghan, please…” You nosed his jaw, and that's when he realised that you were calling him by his name.
“I– how did you—” He faltered, groaning when you ground down against him once more, his grip on your hips tightening once more to halt your movements. “Baby, tell me.”
“Minghao told me… I kind of confirmed it when we called that night.”
Jeonghan grunted, moving your head from his neck as he made you look at him. “You're… you're not mad?”
“Why would I be?” You murmured, a puzzled expression forming on your face. “You probably had your reasons, and I'm not going to get mad over you hiding your identity. I'm more mad at myself that I didn't figure it out sooner.”
You pouted, moving your hands from Jeonghan’s hair to his face, caressing gently. “Can you fuck me now?”
A choked-out noise came out of him as he faltered and got flustered by your blunt request. He shook his head in disbelief before shifting slightly to sit better against the headboard.
“You're something else, sweets…” He muttered, stealing a quick kiss from your lips as his hands travelled to the gusset of your panties and tugged them to the side to see your glistening slit. His cock throbbed at the sight, wanting nothing more than to be inside your sweet cunt.
Jeonghan opened the nightstand drawer to grab the box of condoms Seungcheol usually kept, seeing that there were two condoms left. He gently lifted you so he could shimmy his sweats and boxers down to his mid thigh, his cock leaking and hard.
You watched as he clumsily opened the condom and put it on himself. Once he was done, he tossed the empty foil and tugged you closer, positioning you above his aching dick. He paused as his tip teased your entrance, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.
“You sure you want—” Jeonghan cut himself off when you sank down on his shaft without warning, a moan leaving his lips as your wet heat clamped around him snugly.
He watched as your thighs trembled when he bottomed out, your hips pressed against his as he raised you up and gently slammed you down, causing you to make such sweet noises that had him immediately addicted.
“Jeonghannie—” you whined, riding him slowly as he guided you, rolling your hips just right as his tip nudged against spots you wouldn't be able to reach with your fingers. “S'good—”
You looked down at him as he seemed to be focused on watching his cock disappear into your warm cunt, a groan leaving him before looking up at your face. You looked so fucked out, and Jeonghan loved it, his hips starting to meet your downward motions, thrusting up into you.
“You're perfect, sweets… everything I ever wanted—fuck, you're squeezing me so tight. You like that? Being everything I want?” He panted as he pressed soft kisses to your jaw and neck, slamming you down harder on his cock as he fucked you faster, not being able to help himself.
You felt wrecked, getting fucked so good by the same person you’d texted for over a week in his best friend’s dorm room. It was something out of a fantasy, and you couldn’t help but whimper when Jeonghan’s thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles around the nub as he tried to lead you to your first orgasm.
“Jeonghan, fuck, I’m gonna cum—” You squeaked, feeling how your cunt got slipperier and the knot in your abdomen got tighter.
Jeonghan only grunted at that, his assault on your bundle of nerves not stopping as he kept thrusting up into your tightness. “Cum for me then, milk my cock for what it’s worth, hm? Come on—”
You cried out when his hips snapped just right, his tip kissing your cervix as your orgasm came crashing down on you like a wave. Your thighs trembled, but you continued to bounce on Jeonghan’s cock until he blew his spend into the condom he was wearing.
“Too hot…” You grumbled, tossing your blouse onto the foot of the bed, leaving yourself in your black lace bra. Jeonghan also shed himself of his hoodie and t-shirt, revealing his lean body. He pulled out of you as he tossed the condom into the box before grabbing another one. You were surprised how quickly he got hard again, not expecting it at all.
Jeonghan flipped the two of you over, so that he was on top of you this time, kicking off his pants while undoing your skirt to toss it into the small pile of clothes that you had made on the floor. Your bra and panties joined the pile soon after, leaving both of you naked. You panted softly as he ground his cock against your slippery folds, his cockhead nudging your pudgy clit before he pushed into your wet hole once more. His grinds were slow and lazy, but Jeonghan filled you up just right as he took one of your legs and hooked it over his shoulder, managing to hit deeper spots from this position.
A soft grunt left him as he watched you mewl and whimper under him, your arm covering your eyes as your breasts bounced back and forth with each thrust. “You look so pretty,” he murmured, moving your arm and pinning it above your head, seeing your eyes glazed with tears as he cooed.
“Why are you crying, baby? Is it too much—” He almost sounded panicked, and you shook your head, not wanting him to stop.
“No–no, it feels so good, Hannie, I just—fuck, it feels so good—” You whined as your back arched off the bed, and Jeonghan couldn’t help but lean down and press soft kisses to the valley of your breasts, worshipping your body as he continued to fuck you slowly.
Jeonghan relished the way your pussy clamped around his thick shaft, sucking him in and milking him with your gummy walls. Soon, his hips started to move a bit faster, feeling his release building up with each second of being inside your needy cunt.
“I’m gonna cum,” he rasped out, his pelvis rubbing against your clit with every rock of his hips as your velvet walls continued to spasm around him with increasing vigour, signalling that you were close as well.
It didn't take long for the two of you to reach your orgasms, with yours hitting you first and triggering Jeonghan’s as the two of you moaned softly.
“One more time, Hannie—” You keened out a whine when he pulled out, noticing how sweat sheened from his skin. He was softly panting, still holding your leg over his shoulder as he pressed a gentle kiss to your calf.
“Can't… We don't have any condoms left—” He crooked out, but you only tugged him closer when he threw the used-up condom into the box once more. His cock was still half-hard, and you were aching for more. Jeonghan murmured your name softly, chiding you when you angled your hips, so that your entrance would nudge against his bare tip. “We can't—”
“Hannie, please… I'm on birth control, I just need you inside me one more time, please.”
You begged, and Jeonghan was weak for you. He probably always had been, even when you didn't know him back then. He sighed, praying that his stamina would last one more time. “One more time, and we're done. I'm not gonna last much longer…”
He admitted, and you just nodded. He didn't have to last long, you just wanted to feel him—feel what it was like to have him raw and creaming your pussy instead of a condom. Jeonghan clenched his jaw as he pushed his tip into your bare hole and hissed softly at how wet and snug you felt without any barriers.
“Oh, fuck… I'm definitely not gonna last—” He grunted, filling you up with ease from how slick your walls and inner thighs were. “Fuckfuckfuck—”
Jeonghan groaned, his pace hasty as he drove his cock into your spasming cunt, gripping and sucking him in like a vice. His cock molded your insides, his cockhead abusing your cervix with each thrust as you squealed.
You could feel your release building up once more, the heat in your abdomen unbearable as you clamped down on Jeonghan’s shaft, the band snapping and releasing hot slick around his length. The pleasure felt like hot lava against your skin, burning you as your back arched off the bed, making a mess out of Seungcheol’s sheets. Your pussy milked him, a milky ring forming around the base of his cock, and Jeonghan couldn’t hold it in anymore.
A guttural groan left his lips as his hips stuttered, movements stilling as he came inside you in hot spurts. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, not being able to hold in your keen whine as he filled you up to the brim until both of your mixed releases were leaking out of your used cunt to your ass down to the already messy sheets.
Once Jeonghan recovered, he pressed a soft kiss to your throat, pulling out as he watched his cum and your juices leak out of you before pushing it back in with his fingers. The action made you whimper, but you let him do what he wanted, watching him with lidded eyes.
“We made such a mess…” He grumbled with a soft chuckle, “Cheol’s gonna kill me for fucking you on his bed.”
“Future us’s problem,” you murmured, groaning deliciously at the ache of your body as Jeonghan grabbed some tissues to clean you up before crashing on top of you. “You’re heavy—”
You complained, but Jeonghan was out like a light, his breathing heavy and rhythmic as you sighed with a soft smile, drifting to take a nap as well.
At about 3 in the morning, you could hear banging outside the door. Jeonghan stirred first as he groaned, grabbing his pants from the floor before tossing his t-shirt for you to wear. You put it on, along with your panties, and when Jeonghan saw that you were fully covered, he opened the door to see a disgruntled Seungcheol.
The disgruntlement immediately switched from shock to disbelief at the sight of his bedsheets. “Dude.”
“Cut me some slack, you invited me to this party. Plus, I didn’t expect we’d fuck…” Jeonghan murmured, sheepish as he glanced at you with a soft smile and a wink that made you flush in embarrassment.
“You smoked my weed!” Seungcheol hissed, groaning as he looked around his room, noticing the half-eaten snacks, the almost-smoked blunt and the messy sheets you were currently sitting on. “Man, I was saving that pocky…”
He sulked as you looked at him apologetically. “Sorry, Seungcheol.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s his—” He pointed at his best friend with a glare before rubbing his face. “I’m crashing at Mingyu’s. I’m not going to sleep in my room for the next week. It reeks of sex and weed in here.”
Seungcheol grumbled as he grabbed a few clothes from his drawer and opened the window before muttering something along the lines of “unbelievable” and “fucking in my room”. He closed the door after himself, leaving you and Jeonghan alone once more.
You pressed your lips into a thin line, stifling your giggles as Jeonghan covered his hand with his fist. “We should clean his room and head back.”
Jeonghan nodded at that, and you put your skirt on, still wearing his t-shirt, while he put on his hoodie before the two of you started tidying up his best friend’s room. Once you were finished, you held your blouse in your hand, leaving the room with a ‘sorry’ note with it.
Walking back to your apartment, you and Jeonghan had your arms linked together, giggling and talking about random shit. When you got to the bottom of your apartment building, he unlinked your arms, but didn’t let go of your hand just yet.
“I’ll see you later for our date?” He asked, looking at you hopefully, and when you nodded, he sighed in relief. You cocked an eyebrow at that before he spoke up again. “I thought you wouldn’t want…”
“Jeonghan, I just had the best sex of my life. I think I’d want to still go on a date with you.”
“Just because I’m sexy? Or because you actually want to date me?” He pouted, teasing you as you rolled your eyes.
“Can’t it be both?” You compromised as Jeonghan hummed and pursed his lips, pretending to think about it before nodding.
He pulled you closer, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away. “Both is good, sweets. I’ll see you later.”
You smiled softly, letting go of his hand before waving him goodbye and heading up to your apartment, still wearing his t-shirt.
“That’s one hell of a fashion statement.” Minghao deadpanned as you jumped once you closed the front door. You turned around to see your roommate, your two best friends, and Jun in the living room, visibly waiting for you.
“What does it say?” You entertained Hao’s sarcastic remark as you tossed your blouse into your room before coming back to where they were.
“It says, ‘I was clearly laid, ask me about it because I’ll definitely brag’. It’s quite obvious.” Joshua chimed in, watching as you grabbed a pillow and tossed it at his face. Your best friend let out an ‘oomph’ sound before throwing the pillow back at you.
You huffed at them, irked at the fact that they were all gathered in your apartment. “What are you guys doing here anyway? I get Hao, he’s my roommate, but you three? Wonwoo, how’d you get dragged into this?”
Wonwoo shrugged, pointing at Joshua, “He told me what happened, and as your friend, I came for support. So, are you going to tell us what happened during the party or what?”
“This is my sex life we’re talking about.”
“And? You’ve shared worse stuff, pipsqueak. Spill the tea.” Joshua seemed the most interested in the gossip, while Minghao just sat there, looking unbothered when he was lowkey listening. Jun and Wonwoo were too busy fussing over a game on the latter’s phone, but they were tuning in as well.
You sighed, sitting down on the free armchair by the sofa, before you started telling them about what had happened during the party. Deciding to leave out the three rounds of sex, Joshua was awestruck, Minghao was subtly judging, but at the same time, he was happy for you, while Jun and Wonwoo were still busy with the game on their phones.
“Now, get the fuck out of my apartment. I need to get some sleep before my date.” You pointed at the door, and Joshua whined but dragged your Wonwoo and Jun out of your apartment, but not before Wonwoo could say something.
“I hope he doesn’t break your heart, or he has four guys to deal with.” Your best friend offered you a smile before closing the door. You smiled at the thought of your friends beating up Jeonghan if he ever fucked up, and it warmed your heart, thankful to have such good friends.
After 6 hours of sleep, you woke up around 9 am, your phone buzzing being the reason why you woke up. You checked the notifications bar, seeing Jeonghan’s name on top.
Jeonghan: Good morning :))
Jeonghan: Can you come downstairs? I have something for you, sweets.
You: How are you downstairs???
You: We literally saw each other six hours ago.
You: I’m still in my pyjamas.
Jeonghan: Perfect. Could I come up then?
You: Yeah, I’ll open the door for you.
You got up from your bed with a soft grunt, looking at yourself in the mirror as you felt the soreness between your legs. A soft sigh left your lips when your intercom rang, prompting you to rush towards it and open the door for Jeonghan downstairs.
When he finally got upstairs, you opened the front door, seeing him holding two cups of what seemed like coffee and tea in one hand and breakfast from your favourite bakery. “Surprise?”
“You didn’t have to—” Your eyes softened as you let him in, closing the door as he took his shoes off after handing you the bag with your favourite pastries from the bakery. “How’d you know I liked these?”
“Well, uh…” He trailed off, his cheeks dusting pink as he strided towards your couch, looking around your space a little better. “I might’ve had a crush on you before the whole wrong number ordeal.”
You blinked at him, surprise filling you as you connected the dots further—the way he seemed to be awkward and nervous around you during the first few meetings when he was pretending to be Han and his flirty behaviour over text.
“No way—” You shook your head, sitting down beside him, surprise evident in your tone. “We didn’t even know each other back then!”
“Well, you didn’t know me, I knew you. We took Statistics together last year, too.” Jeonghan scratched his cheek awkwardly when you continued to look at him with an astonished expression. “I didn’t know Cheol knew you until a few weeks ago, and that was when I gained the guts to ask him for your number and message you, pretending that I had the wrong number.”
The explanation baffled you, but it made sense at the same time before you scoffed out a laugh.
“Jeonghan.”
“Mmm?”
“You couldn’t have made it any harder for yourself.” You snorted, and he groaned before laughing softly along with you. “Like, seriously. You could’ve walked up to me and talked to me.”
“It wasn’t that simple!” He covered his face, embarrassed, but he kept smiling, a little glad that you found the situation humorous. Jeonghan sighed softly when you finally stopped giggling, shaking his head at how cute you were before noting that it was quite quiet in your apartment.
“Is your roommate not home?” He asked as you hummed, taking a bite out of the pastry in the bag.
“Minghao usually goes to the gym before going for a three-hour nature walk around the campus park. He also takes his time to meditate by the lake, so he’ll be gone for a while. Why?”
Jeonghan just shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee as he watched you enjoy your food. He could get used to seeing you like this—dishevelled after sleep, face bare and hair sticking out from multiple ends. It was cute, and he’d been dreaming of this day.
You noticed his soft gaze on you, making you feel a little self-conscious. “Is there something on my face?”
“Huh-? No, no! I just… I’ve been kind of dreaming of this day, he murmured, smiling softly.
You tilted your head to the side, puzzled, before Jeonghan continued. “You know, uh, seeing you like this—dishevelled and whatnot. Just you.”
You swallowed the food in your mouth, blinking at him. “So, my usual grouchy morning self?”
“Yes.” He nodded, leaning back against the sofa.
“You’re even weirder in person, you know that?” You grumbled but cracked a soft smile. “I can’t say I hate it. Being my boyfriend and all.”
Jeonghan blinked at the words you just said, causing you to look at him with a confused expression once more. “What?”
“Say that thing again.”
“I can’t say I hate it..?” You furrowed your eyebrows, unsure, before Jeonghan shook his head and made a circular motion with his hand as if telling you to rewind.
“No, the other thing.”
“Being my boyfrien—oh.” Your cheeks flushed, looking down at your lap as you tried not to explode on the spot for saying that. “Is… Is that okay?”
“Is— Is being your boyfriend okay? Are you hearing yourself?” Jeonghan huffed softly before grabbing your shoulders and shaking you, “Of course, it’s okay. More than okay, actually—perfect, more so.”
You grabbed his arms and stopped him from shaking you, “Okay, okay—I get it!”
Jeonghan let you go and sat back down on the couch, grabbing his coffee from the coffee table before taking a long swig from it, and placing it back down as you finished your food. Once you were done, you crumpled the paper bag, and he wiped off the leftover crumbs from the corner of your lips.
“So…” You started, curious about what he had planned for today’s date, “What are we going to do today?”
Jeonghan only smiled, winking at you as he leaned back, “That’s a secret you’ll have to unfold later, sweets. I’m not fond of ruining surprises.”
A groan left your lips, too impatient, but knowing Jeonghan, he’d stay true to his word and not reveal anything until the date. You pouted slightly before taking a sip of your tea, humming at the hot beverage filling your system.
“Not even one hint?”
“No. Not a chance, sweetheart. Stop trying to ruin your surprise.” He squinted at you before flicking your forehead, prompting you to retaliate, but he didn’t let you as he grabbed your wrists.
“What if I don’t like surprises?” You argued and tried to tug yourself away from his grasp, and he rolled his eyes, keeping you close.
“Not my problem, sweets, you’re not getting any spoilers.”
Even with your insistence on having Jeonghan give you at least one hint, he only gave you one, very vague hint, which went somewhere along the lines of “you’ll love it” and “it’s something you really like”.
That hint didn’t really help, since he asked you to wear something casual yet pretty, so you were stuck between a white sundress adorned with tiny pink flowers or a loose V-neck sweater and jeans.
Deciding on the former, you put on the dress, matching it with your white shoes, before heading back out to the living room, where Jeonghan was waiting. He was scrolling through his phone when he glanced up and saw you standing there, your hands behind your back as you awkwardly rocked back and forth.
“Stop staring like that—” You huffed, feeling awkward as he gaped at you before snapping out of it.
“Sorry—fuck… I, uh… You look pretty.” He got up from the sofa, walking over to you and grabbing your waist. “Like, really pretty.”
Jeonghan leaned down, nosing your cheek. “Wondering if we should go on that date right now or—ow, okay, okay, sorry.”
He snickered when you smacked him, grinning as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. That's when you heard a groan behind you, prompting you to turn around and see Minghao with squinting eyes.
“The two of you better not fuck on the couch,” He muttered accusingly before heading to his room, leaving you and Jeonghan alone once more. A giggle left your lips before you patted his chest.
“Let's go on that date, shall we, my lady?” He offered his arm for you to grab, and you smiled as you took it before heading out the door.
The two of you walked to one of your favourite bookstores near campus, which you hadn’t expected for your first date with him. “Bookstore date?”
“That’s not all, sweets.” Jeonghan grinned, opening the door for you as he let you enter the establishment. “I decided to ask the staff… And they let me rent the place out for two hours.”
Your eyes widened at his words, surprised at the fact that Jeonghan managed to rent the bookstore for a whole two hours. When you entered, you saw Kimmy—one of the workers in the store—by the register, winking and giving you a thumbs-up before waving a small green flag she held by the counter to promote books with green-flag men.
A soft giggle left your lips as Jeonghan led you to the small reading nook the owners of the store had agreed to make for you since you came by so often, and it was far from the main hall of the bookstore itself, so you had some privacy. The table you had there was set with a candle, and some food—takeout from your favourite Chinese joint that you frequented with Joshua.
“You thought of everything for this date, haven’t you?” You looked at him with a fond smile, and he hummed before grabbing a baby blue bag from behind one of the chairs.
“That’s not all. Sit down and open it.” He pulled the chair back for you, prompting you to giggle once more as you sat down comfortably and pulled out what seemed like a cinammoroll plush keyring. You glanced up at him with a slightly ajar mouth before he added, “Oh, there’s also an envelope, open it.”
Without another word, you grabbed the envelope and opened it to read, “Here’s my card. You have ten minutes to look around the store and five minutes to grab the books you want. Winky face, your boyfriend.” You looked at him, dumbfounded as he only chuckled.
“We’ll do it after we eat, it’s better to eat Chinese when it’s still hot.”
The two of you ate and conversed, giggling about the stupidest things as you reminisced about the things that happened a couple of hours prior. Jeonghan seemed to notice your flushed expression, grinning slightly. “You’re thinking about what happened last night, did you?”
“Shut up—” You squeaked, stealing a dumpling from his container, and he let you as he leaned his chin on his palm, looking enamoured by the sight of you. Feeling flustered, you took a sip of your drink before clearing your throat. “I’m full, so let’s do that thing, hm? I have a few books I’ve been eyeing, and I know the layout of this building like the back of my hand.”
“I’m going to be broke, aren’t I?” Jeonghan sighed with a soft laugh when you nodded, taking one last bite of his food before getting up and taking your outstretched hand, excited for whatever activity you had planned.
After the timer ended, you managed to snag about 8 books, two of which were textbooks, which made Jeonghan raise an eyebrow at you, but books were expensive as fuck, so if you had the chance to monopolise someone else’s money, you’d use it. The other six paperbacks were romance novels, with genres ranging from romantasy to standard romcom tropes.
“You sure like romance novels, huh?” He teased, looking through one of the books’ synopses, curious about the contents of the paperback, and opening a page where the main characters were having rough sex. Jeonghan whistled softly as Kimmy snatched the book from him, rang it up and put it in the paper bag. You thanked her as you waved goodbye while your boyfriend held the bag with your haul. “Are you sure you’ll manage to read all of these? Six novels are a lot, you know?”
You snorted out a laugh, shaking your head. “It’s the weekend, Jeonghan. I have a whole Sunday free, and my Mondays usually consist of theoretical science that I can miss because the professor sends video versions of the lecture anyway. I’ll manage to binge these in a day.”
That’s when you noticed Jeonghan’s slight pout, prompting you to raise your eyebrow at him before he sighed dramatically.
“Why are you pouting?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawled, still pouting. “My girlfriend would rather spend time with books for the whole weekend instead of her boyfriend—” You smacked him, cutting him off as he stifled his chuckles. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I mean, I could kick Minghao out for the day, and we can hang out in the living room without him side-eyeing us.” You shrugged, not thinking much of it, as the two of you walked towards the cafe, where you bought your tea from and bought some drinks before heading to the park to sit down by the small pond.
“How are you enjoying our little date so far, sweets?” Jeonghan asked, looking at you with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. You shrugged, causing him to gently nudge you. “Come on, tell me.”
“Honestly?” You looked at him with a soft yet happy smile, “It’s the best date I’ve been on in a while. You’ve outdone yourself, boyfriend.”
Jeonghan grinned, clearly happy with the praise, before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, surprising you. “Perfect. How many boyfriend points do I get?”
“Boyfriend points?” You raised an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah, like… If I get enough of them, I get a prize or something.” He shrugged, making you blink at him.
“Jeonghan, we are not doing that. What are you, a toddler?” You snorted, and he made a face which you almost smacked him for again, but refrained. “We are not doing that.”
“Worth a shot.”
After your date, Jeonghan walked you back home and gave you a goodbye kiss that made you feel like you were on clouds. You felt all giddy, and you were giggling to yourself on the way up to your apartment.
Once you entered the apartment, you saw Minghao lounging around in the living room, watching something on the TV. He glanced at you before sighing, “How was the date?”
“Perfect,” you chirped, still smiling, which made your cheeks hurt. “I think he’s actually not real from how perfect the date went.”
“I’m sure you’re itching to tell someone the details, so spill.”
“You’re the best roommate ever, do I ever tell you that?” You sat down beside him after placing your paper bag with your new books on the dining table.
“I’ve been told once or twice, yes.” He rolled his eyes, but Minghao was genuinely interested, wanting to know how your day with Jeonghan went.
“Okay, so…”
After talking about your date with Minghao and Facetiming Joshua and Wonwoo in the process, you managed to get some good night’s sleep. You couldn’t kick Minghao out for the day, so you had to cancel your plans with Jeonghan, but the two of you called for about three hours before you had to end the call because you needed food in your system.
While you prepared dinner, you found yourself texting your boyfriend, sharing memes or just talking about random messages.
Jeonghan: Whatcha cooking, good looking?
You: Just some cream pasta.
You: Reading was quite slow today. I only read 50% of the first book.
Jeonghan: That’s still a lot, sweets
Jeonghan: It’d take me about 3 days to get halfway through a book :/
Jeonghan: So, be proud of yourself for reading so much in one day
You: If you say so 🤷
You: Anyway, what are YOU up to?
Jeonghan: I’m playing video games with Cheol
Jeonghan: Kinda boring ngl
Jeonghan: Would rather talk with you ;)
You: Pfft, okay.
You: Play your silly video games with him.
You: And apologise about the weed.
Jeonghan: Just the weed?
You: And the pocky.
You: I don’t regret the sex, you know.
Jeonghan: Oh, I know ;)
Jeonghan: I’d so do it again even if we weren’t high
You: You’re evil.
Jeonghan: You like me so 🤷
You: Fair enough.
Jeonghan: I gtg
Jeonghan: Text you later?
You: If I don’t get immersed in reading, then yes.
Jeonghan: Okay, love u
You reread the message, trying to make sure you weren’t seeing things before turning as red as a tomato. He didn’t mean it like that, right? He meant it as a goodbye and not an actual ‘I love you’? You screamed into your hands, confused and flustered as hell.
On Jeonghan’s end, he was also screaming into his hands after sending you that last message, Seungcheol, looking at him with an ‘Are you fucking serious right now?’ expression. “Dude, you’re overreacting. It was just a text.”
“You don’t get it, Cheolie…” Jeonghan groaned as his best friend was more focused on the game he was playing rather than Jeonghan’s insistent whining. “I said ‘love you’ and not ‘I love you’ because I’m a fucking coward. And I wanna say it to her face, not over text.”
“Then do that?” Seungcheol paused his game, sighing softly.
Jeonghan only groaned, throwing his phone on his bed before rubbing his face from slight frustration. He wanted to do it so badly, but he felt like he’d be pushing it. “It’s too early for me to do it! I don’t wanna scare her off.”
He grumbled, and his best friend could hear his pout without even looking at him. “When did you become such a loser, Hannie?”
Seungcheol teased, and Jeonghan glared at him, throwing a pillow at his friend.
“Shut up.”
A few days passed, and everything between you and Jeonghan was going smoothly, going on quick cafe dates in between classes, sharing lunch with your friends, or just spending time together in general.
You were getting used to the whole boyfriend/girlfriend ordeal, not being used to having someone in your space besides your roommate. But you found yourself enjoying it more than you expected, liking the comfort of having someone to lean on for once. It felt lighter to have someone who could carry your burdens with you and vice versa.
It was a Friday afternoon, you had finished most of your lab work early and decided that Minghao had to go for the day because you wanted Jeonghan to stay over, and he just gave you an obvious look that meant ‘I know what you’re planning to do and I’m letting it slide’.
You were huddled up in a blanket, cuddling with Jeonghan on top of you while you played with his hair with one hand and read a book with the other, occasionally moving your hand from your boyfriend’s hair to flip a page.
A soft grunt left your lips an hour into reading, prompting Jeonghan to move his head from your chest. “What is it?”
“Nothing… I mean, not nothing, I just don’t wanna move at the moment,” you grumbled softly as your cheeks burned. You didn’t want to ask him for it. No way.
“Do you need to pee or something—”
“No, no! It’s just…” You trailed off, your cheeks and ears dusting red as you tried to spit it out. “There’s a sex scene I don’t really get.”
“Ah,” Jeonghan murmured, causing you to flush further from embarrassment, before he tutted softly, “Well, that can’t do, can it? What’s the scene? Read it for me, baby.”
“O–oh, uh, okay…” You cleared your throat. “Harlan angled my hips, spreading my legs wide, teasing his cock against my slit before pushing in—”
“Okay, I got the gist of it, geez. I forgot most of those romance books of yours are in first person,” he grumbled before taking the book from you and placing it down on the coffee table before shifting slightly between your legs. “That’s just simple missionary, sweetheart. Why are you so confused?”
“Because there’s more, Hannie. Let me finish, will you?” You huffed, grabbing the book once more, and he chuckled before nodding.
You cleared your throat again and continued, “Pushing in with one easy thrust, my pussy squelched from how wet he’d gotten me. I whined, trembling like a leaf as I pawed my enemy’s chest—”
“They’re enemies?” Jeonghan cut you off, gasping dramatically as you rolled your eyes and continued reading.
“—looking up at him so fucked out and dazed. He pumped his shaft into me a couple of times before flipping me around to my stomach without pulling out, burying my face into the pillows of my bed. He grabbed my hips up and started fucking me harder while muttering the lewdest things into my ear.”
You finished reading the part of the page, Jeonghan’s eyes half-lidded as he licked his lips. “I got the gist of it. You wanna…?”
Your thighs clenched around his hips, signalling him that you indeed wanted it. A soft groan left his lips as he slipped off the blanket from your bodies, his hands starting to roam along your hips and waist, pushing up the t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare breasts. He expected it, since the two of you were home, but he still enjoyed the sight.
A whine left your lips when he leaned down, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, suckling and gently biting while he rubbed your other nipple with his thumb, switching between them so neither would feel neglected. Jeonghan continued his ministrations until you were panting and your nipples were wet, coated with his spit and aching with pleasure.
“Gonna fuck you better than what that dumb book described, mmkay?” Jeonghan crooned against your neck, yanking your shorts and panties down your legs, and throwing them on the floor. His hand ghosted over your wet slit, teasing you as he spread your pussy lips open, watching as your tight hole clenched around nothing and gushed with slick that drooled down to the leather of the couch.
“Hannie, please…”
“Hmm? What is it, pretty baby?” He cooed. “You need to be patient. I wanna take my sweet time with your sweet little cunt this time.”
“But–but, you were gonna show me—”
Jeonghan shushed you softly. “I said I’m going to fuck you better than what was described in your book. So, be a good girl and take what I give you, hm?”
You moaned at that, nodding as he touched you with reverent caresses, whispering sweet nothings into your ear before pushing two fingers into your wet heat, scissoring your sopping cunt as it squelched lewdly at his movements. Jeonghan stretched your inner walls, feeling them snugly flutter and wrap around his digits. His palm grazed your clit just right, pulling soft whines out of you as your thighs tightened around his hips.
Once he was satisfied playing with your sweet pussy, he pulled his fingers out before shoving them into his mouth and let out a groan. When he finished sucking off your juices from them, he smiled at you. “So sweet…”
Jeonghan didn’t waste any more time, shoving his sweatpants down, freeing his heavy, leaking cock. He looked at you, begging and reaching out for him, so he decided against looking for condoms, and it wasn’t like he had any with him to begin with.
Lubricating himself with your slick, his cockhead nudged against your bundle of nerves a couple of times, causing your legs to tremble and twitch before Jeonghan finally lined himself up against your entrance. Due to how slippery your hole was, he easily slipped in, a guttural groan leaving his lips as he felt your raw cunt around his cock once more.
“Fuck, fuck—you feel so good… Your pussy is sucking my dick in so good, sweets.”
“Hannie—Jeonghan, fuck—I, I, hngh—”
You whined out, grasping the material of the oversized hoodie he was wearing before he quickly shed it, so that he could feel your nails against his skin. You nailed his upper back, causing Jeonghan to hiss in both pleasure and pain from the sharp sting. He then started gently rocking his hips into you, each deep thrust knocking the air out of your lungs.
Your boyfriend’s eyes darted down to where the two of you were connected, and the sound of his cock bullying into your cunt was enough to make him grit his teeth and think of basketball statistics to prevent himself from coming way too quickly inside your spasming hole.
Jeonghan groaned your name softly, peppering soft kisses all over your neck and jaw before he flipped you onto your stomach without pulling out, just like what you had read in your book. Something about him easily manhandling you made your stomach flutter and your walls to squeeze around his dick as he pulled your hips up towards him, your ass up, while your face got buried in the throw pillows.
“This is what you wanted, right, baby? Getting fucked from behind like a pretty little thing in heat—” Jeonghan grunted softly as he grabbed the globes of your ass, the fat dimpling under his grip as he spread your cheeks apart to watch how his thick length filled you up.
You could feel how his dick twitched inside you when he saw the messy white ring forming around the base of his cock, his thrusts getting slightly sloppier and harder as he licked his lips. Your moans were muffled but still loud enough to spur Jeonghan on and made him drive his cock deeper into you—hitting spots you couldn’t reach yourself. The way his tip grazed against your cervix made you squeal and push yourself back against him, your back arching slightly from pleasure.
One of Jeonghan’s hands let go of your ass cheek, moving down between your legs to rub on your neglected clit, making you keen out a whine and your hole to clench around him tightly. Your toes curled as the heat in your gut expanded and licked at your tingling nerves.
“Jeonghan—I’m… I think I’m gonna—”
“Let go, baby, let go for me.”
You whined at that, letting go as you let your orgasm crash through you, making your back arch further as you pushed yourself closer to him, as Jeonghan’s hips stuttered when your velvet walls milked him for his cum.
A choked grunt left his lips as he stilled his motions, burying himself deep inside you as he spilt hot, thick spurts of cum into your messy cunt. Air was knocked out of your lungs as you recovered slowly, hearing your heartbeat in your ears as your vision was slightly blurred from the overwhelming pleasure.
You whined in protest at the loss of Jeonghan’s cock when he pulled out. Turning your head, you saw him panting softly, watching your leaking hole as he pushed his cum back into your used cunt. That was when he tugged you, turning you around as both of you were leaning against your heels. He caressed your cheek and kissed you softly, leading you to sit on his lap as he leaned back against the couch until he was lying down, before pulling away.
“Sit on my face.”
The request caught you off guard, unsure about sitting on his face after he had just come inside you. But he seemed set on you sitting on his face, gently yanking your hips, causing you to grind on his abs accidentally. Your sensitive clit grazed his skin, and Jeonghan moaned at the mess you were making on his abdomen.
“A–are you sure-? I don’t—”
“I’m sure, sweets, ride my face. Let me clean that cute little pussy up.” His grip on your hips gently tightened before letting go, so that you could crawl over and hover your dripping cunt over his face. Before you could even stabilise yourself, Jeonghan pulled you down, his mouth latching onto your sensitive cunt immediately. He didn’t care about your mixed juices, only wanting you and your sweet wetness.
A moan left Jeonghan’s lips as he lapped you up, tongue flat against your slit as he messily made out with your cunt. You grasped onto his hair, tugging and gripping for support as you started to grind yourself against him, his nose nudging against your clit just right, your release building up faster than the last as soft mewls left your lips as your boyfriend cleaned you up. His grip on your ass tightened, eating your pussy out with increasing vigour as he felt you clench around his tongue.
Your orgasm hit you like a wave, toes curling as you wailed in pleasure, your eyes fluttering closed as your hips stuttered against his face. Once Jeonghan was done with drinking up your juices, he easily lifted you from his face, shifting you onto his lap before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.
“I guess we broke the rule about fucking on the couch.”
The two of you went over to your room after the situation on the couch. Jeonghan was peacefully napping on your bed while you were silently admiring your boyfriend, playing with some strands of his hair. Noticing your sketchbook on your desk, you decided to grab it along with your pencil and eraser before you started to sketch.
Before you knew it, you had a sketch of Jeonghan with some details, smiling to yourself, and not noticing him stirring awake.
“Whatcha smiling about?” He rasped, his voice groggy after his nap. “Are you drawing?”
He seemed curious, so you showed him the sketch. Jeonghan’s eyes softened at the sight, in awe of the piece of art you had done in such a short time. “You’re talented, sweets.”
“Thank you… It’s something I took from my mother.” You smiled as you flipped through the pages, showing him more sketches, mostly of him, which surprised Jeonghan, but he was secretly very pleased.
After giving him a glimpse of your sketchbook, you closed it before placing it on your nightstand and huddling close to him.
Jeonghan pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, happy in your arms. “I love you.”
The confession was soft, but full of meaning, and you couldn’t help but hug him tighter, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.
“I love you too, Hannie.”
“No take-backs. You love me.”
You could feel his grin against your skin, which made you roll your eyes before giggling.
PAIRING: campus DJ!jeonghan x f!reader
GENRE: friends to lovers, college au, 2000s au
WC: 16,816
WARNINGS: weed/alcohol consumption, discussion of mental illness, bit o jealousy, angst, idiots in love, semi-public sex but like barely, dry humping, fingering, oral, multiple orgasms, petnames (baby), cum swallowing, lots of whimpering u already know!!!!!, jun cameo and he's real weird again!! (/pos), i made up a bunch of terrible fake band names enjoy
A/N: written for @studiosvt's First Time Caller collab! be sure to check out all the other banger fics on the masterlist! i had a blast writing this, loser emo boi jeonghan was not something i knew i needed but i fear i am now in love with him. btw, this fic is set in 2003! peak era for this genre of music if u ask me :) shoutout to the homie @haologram for beta reading, u da best fr ily <3
SYNOPSIS: You met Jeonghan freshman year of college — he seemed a bit strange at first, shy and a bit elusive, but you two instantly became friends when you bonded over your love of alternative music and record stores. You wouldn't necessarily call him your best friend, but as friendships and relationships came and went over the years, Jeonghan was always a constant in your life. It's junior year now, and you're trying to convince him to apply for the open DJ position at the campus radio station. WFVC 90.5 is known for being the hotspot for underground punk music, and with Jeonghan majoring in communications studies you know it's the perfect role for him. He gets the job, and you figure you'd be seeing a lot less of him now that he's busy working the late night shift at the station. But it's quite the opposite — you're spending more time with Jeonghan than ever before, and you start to realize there might be something more than friendship on the horizon for you two.
[ONE]
Filtered sunlight beaming through the treetops hits your eyes as you step out into the quad, making you squint in the sudden brightness that starkly contrasts the dim interior of the Literature Hall you were just in. The air is crisp — not yet chilly, but fresh and invigorating, a tell-tale sign of fall being right around the corner. The quad is buzzing with life, students chattering as they stroll to class, bikes zipping past you on the sidewalk, every bench and shaded spot under a tree occupied with people laughing, reading, relaxing. You leisurely make your way over to your usual spot, but as you approach the small oak near the Communications Building you see two girls you don't recognize sitting in the grass beneath its low branches. Puzzled, you look around, but then you spot a familiar lanky figure standing outside the Comms building. His back is turned to you, so all you can see is the mess of long dark hair upon his head, but the baggy flannel shirt and the black backpack adorned with various pins and patches slung over one shoulder are a dead giveaway. As you head in his direction, you see he appears to be staring straight ahead at a lamppost.
"Hey dork, I was looking for you," you call out playfully as you walk toward him, but he doesn't seem to hear you. Getting closer, you spot the pair of headphones on his head, the wire plugged into the portable CD player in his hand — the loud, raucous sounds of Linkin Park blaring in his ears tinnily resonating through the air from halfway across the sidewalk. When you get within arm's reach you tug on the handle of his backpack. He nearly jumps out of his skin, whipping around and yanking the headphones off his head with a startled expression on his face. When he sees it's you, he relaxes, but not without majorly rolling his eyes.
"Jesus, you fucking scared me," he sighs. He lifts the CD player in his hand and pauses the song, the banging melody ringing through the foam-covered headphones ceasing.
"Sorry," you apologize, but a wide grin spreads on your face. "I didn't think you'd react that much. What are you doing, anyway?" you ask, looking over to the lamppost.
"Nothing," he says quickly, but a flier with bold text catches your eye.
Do you like punk music? Do you like radio?
WFVC 90.5 is HIRING for a DJ position!
No experience necessary, Communications majors preferred.
APPLY NOW at the station (Comms Building 2nd Floor)
"Oh my god, Jeonghan this is perfect!" you exclaim, but your friend shakes his head.
"I was just looking."
"Dude, you HAVE to apply. This is literally your dream job!"
Jeonghan frowns. "I doubt they would hire me."
"What the hell are you talking about? You're exactly the person they're looking for," you tell him. And it's true — Foxville College's singular radio station may be a local joint, but it's famous across all of Wisconsin for being the station for underground grunge, punk, and alternative rock. You've been listening to it since you were a kid, and its where your love of the genres originated. Jeonghan happens to share the exact same music taste — it's how you became friends in the first place back in Freshman year.
"Hey!" Jeonghan calls after you as you both exit the same building. You had just came from the same class, Intro to Poetry, but it's the very first day of school, so he doesn't know your name. But he saw your notebook fall out of your half-open backpack, and you didn't notice it.
He picks up the small, black leather notebook and quickly zips after you. "Excuse me," he tries again, but you're wearing headphones. Your music is loud, and familiar. He taps on your shoulder, startling you slightly.
"Hi, sorry," Jeonghan tells you as you turn to face him, shifting the headphones off one ear so you can hear. "You dropped this." You look at his hands as he extends the notebook to you.
"Oh! That is mine," you remark, taking your headphones off fully now and pausing your music.
"Yeah, your backpack was open."
You look over your shoulder, and sure enough, the bag is half-unzipped.
"Whoops," you tell him with a lighthearted laugh, taking the notebook and putting it back in the bag, making sure to close it all the way this time. "Well, thank you, I appreciate it," you say with a friendly smile. You go to put your headphones back on and walk away, but before you can do so he points at your portable CD player.
"Are you listening to Green Day?" he asks.
"Oh, yeah! I am!" you reply excitedly. "It's the Dookie album, one of my faves."
"That album is so good," he agrees with a smile. "I don't mean this in a rude way or anything," he says shyly. "But you I wouldn't have guessed you'd be into punk music."
"Yeah, I get that a lot," you say with a laugh. "I don't particularly dress very edgy or anything. Maybe I should start dressing the part."
"Wear whatever you want," he responds with a shrug. "The most punk rock thing you can do is be yourself."
"That's very true," you grin back at him. "I'm y/n, by the way."
"I'm Jeonghan," he replies with a soft smile. "It's nice to meet you."
And so you and Jeonghan quickly became friends. He's a pretty quiet guy, very much the opposite of your bubbly, sociable self; but despite your differences you get along well. He's also pretty much the only person you know who likes the same type of music as you, so you definitely share a close bond over that.
"Besides," you say to Jeonghan. "You really should get a job anyway."
"Hey!" he pouts. "Are you calling me broke?"
"Yes. Because you are."
The left corner of his mouth lifts slightly, giving you a half-grin. "So are you, moron."
You playfully give him a light punch in the arm. "Takes one to know one."
"I'll think about it," he concedes.
"You better. If not then I'll submit the application for you."
"Pretty sure that's not allowed," he replies, raising a brow at you.
"Like that's gonna stop me," you inform him.
"Unfortunately, I believe that," he chuckles, rolling his eyes again. "Anyway, c'mon," he says to as he starts walking off. "I have a surprise for you."
"Oh god, what have you done now?" you pretend to complain as you follow after him.
"No no, you're gonna like this one," he grins. "I promise."
"Okay, well now I know where we're going," you say as Jeonghan turns onto Harton Street. The street boasts a Dead End sign, and it's path is winding. You can't see much past the trees, but you know there is only one reason to come down this way.
"I was here over the weekend," you inform him. "I don't need to buy anything else."
"Oh please, like you'd pass up the opportunity to get some new vinyl," he grins.
"Dude, I'm already living off ramen."
"Just trust me."
"Okaaay," you reply, feigning skepticism. "If you say so."
The tires of Jeonghan's 1991 Mercury Tracer crunch as he turns off the main road onto a white gravel drive. A humble building comes into view, its exterior painted pastel yellow with a giant sign reading TURNPIKE RECORDS in a large, swirling font that looks straight out of the 1970s. A neon sign resides in the window, flickering slightly but advertising that the shop is open. There's only one other car in the small lot: a pristine, hot red Chevy Camaro also straight out of the 70s, belonging to the shop's owner.
Jeonghan parks the car and the two of you head into the store. The front door squeaks as you open it, an assortment of small bronze bells hanging above the door ringing out to announce your entry. The familiar, slightly-musty scent of the used record store fills your nose as you walk down the three steps taking you to the shop floor. Aside from the natural light from the window, the place is pretty dim, lit mainly by a couple of bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling and a variety of glowing lava lamps of all shapes, sizes, and colors placed throughout the room. Nearly every inch of wall is covered in a hodge-podge of framed posters and photographs, giving the whole place a chaotic but vibrant feel. Without a doubt, this is your favorite spot in town.
"I wonder if they have the new Muse album yet," you comment, meandering through the empty shop over to the Rock section.
"Not yet," Jeonghan replies as he starts flipping through a nearby discount bin. "I checked already."
You hear a faint swoosh come from behind you. You turn around to see a tall, heavily-tattooed man carrying a large box emerging from the thick velvet curtain that leads to the back of the store — none other than the shop's owner, Tripp. He's in his mid-40s, bald except for a long goatee on his chin, and he has more earrings than you can even count.
"Hey hey, I thought I heard my favorite customers out here!" Tripp says cheerfully when he sees you and Jeonghan. He sets the box on top of the counter, brushing his hands off and coming out to greet you on the floor.
"Oh please, you say that to everyone," you grin at the man.
"Definitely not," he shakes his head. "Besides, between the both of you you guys are keeping me in business. Speaking of," he says as he suddenly snaps and points at you. "I got something for ya."
He quickly returns to the counter and retrieves something from the shelves beneath the register. He walks back to you and hands you an album, light gray in color. You flip it over, and your jaw drops. It's a Japanese edition of Led Zeppelin IV — your favorite album of all time.
"Your friend told me you've been looking for this one," he tells you, nodding his head in Jeonghan's direction. "He convinced me to set it aside for you."
"Wow, that's so nice thank you!!" you tell Tripp excitedly. "How much?"
"Don't worry about it. It's already paid for."
"What?!"
You look over at Jeonghan, but he just smiles back at you sheepishly.
"What the hell, thank you," you grin at him. "You did not have to do that though."
"Actually, I did," Jeonghan admits. "Tripp made me."
Tripp lets out a hearty laugh. "Well regardless, I'm glad it's in the hands of someone I know will really appreciate it."
"Let me pay you back," you say to Jeonghan as Tripp returns to restocking, but he just shakes his head.
"Don't worry about it, really," he tells you warmly.
"Okay, fine. But you're gonna come over and listen to this with me," you insist, poking him in the chest. "We can smoke and I'll order pizza."
Jeonghan's face lights up. "Sounds like a deal to me," he grins.
brrrrrrr
brrrrrrr
The dull trill of the phone rings in your ear as you wait for the call to connect. You've only hit the bong once, but your head already feels like you're floating in the clouds. You mindlessly twirl the cord around your index finger, and you're halfway zoned out by the time the other line picks up.
"Arthur's Pizzeria," a cheerful voice suddenly speaks into your ear. "How can I help you?"
"Yeah hi!" you blurt out in your mildly startled state. "Can I order one large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese for delivery?"
"You got it! What's the address?"
"22 Elmwood Street, Unit 201."
"Great! It'll be about 20 minutes."
With a click you set the handset back onto the hook, returning to the living room. Your roommate won't be back until later, so you two have the place to yourselves — perfect for getting high and lazing around without judgment. Jeonghan sits on the couch, sinking into the cushions already and staring off into space. It takes him a moment to register that you're back; when he notices you, he tries to sit up, but the effort required for it currently seems monumental.
"Pizza ordered?" he asks, peering at you through lazy eyelids.
"Yup," you reply as you plop onto the other end of the couch. "Be here in 20."
"Sweet," he grins. You reach for the bong, grabbing the lighter next to it and lighting a bit more of the bowl. After a decently fat rip and a few solid coughs, you extend it out to Jeonghan.
"Man, I'm so high already," he groans, but he takes the colorful swirled glass from your hand anyway. "Where'd you get this grass?"
"Got it from Joshua," you reply, lifting your feet up onto the couch and tucking them beside you.
"Oh," Jeonghan replies, giving you a look as he exhales a cloud of smoke and hands the bong back over.
"What's your deal with Joshua?" you question, raising your brow at him.
"What? Nothing," he says quickly. "We should open a window."
He gets to his feet and walks across the room, lifting the nearest window up as far as it will go. It's a nice evening — the crisp air from earlier has gotten cooler, but it feels delightful as it begins to drift into the apartment in the light breeze.
"I know you don't like him," you continue, not letting Jeonghan ignore your question. "But I've never known why."
"I never said I didn't like him," he denies, flopping back onto the couch.
"You didn't have to," you point out. "Your face says it all."
He grimaces, rolling his eyes. "Curse my expressive nature. Anyway, I dunno, he just always seems like he's trying to make a move on you."
"Oh, he's like that with everyone," you reply matter-of-factly.
"Right."
"He is," you affirm. "And besides, so what if he was?"
"Huh?" Jeonghan pipes up, seemingly surprised by your question. "Oh, I just mean… I just don't trust guys who are always talking to girls that. Seems sleazy."
"No, really," you reiterate. "He's like that with everyone."
"Okay," he concedes skeptically. "If you say so."
"Should we play some Zeppelin?" you ask, getting up to go grab the record. Jeonghan's face lights up.
"Fuck yeah," he grins.
You put the album on, the signature bold, heavy sounds of the band greeting your ears as you crank up the volume. As you sit there listening, you finish off the bowl with Jeonghan, the air of your apartment now completely overtaken by smoke despite the open window.
"When's that damn pizza gonna get here?" he mumbles, but before you can even respond you hear a knock coming from the front door.
"Whoa, you summoned it," you giggle, rising to your feet a bit too quickly and stumbling slightly on your way over to the door. You answer, having a quick conversation with the usual delivery boy before paying and scurrying back over to the couch, the heavenly smell of hot, greasy pepperoni pizza joining the weed aroma in the room. You don't even bother with plates, instead simply picking up the slices and shoveling them directly into your hungry mouths. The conversation remains paused for a few minutes; you zone out, letting yourself get lost in the music, but eventually your conversation with Jeonghan earlier pops back into your head.
"You really should apply to that DJ job," you say, turning to him, but he just shrugs.
"Eh, I don't think I'd get it."
"Not with that attitude you won't."
"You always say that," he rolls his eyes.
"It's true!" you insist. "Jeonghan, come on. This is basically your dream job, and you're literally the perfect guy for it. Just apply and see what happens!"
"Maybe, I dunno."
"Besides," you add. "You need the money to fund your poor spending habits."
"Hey!" he balks. "I do not have poor spending habits."
You pick up the vinyl sleeve, tapping the little yellow sticker on the cover with a messy $40 scribbled on it in black ink.
"Yeah, you do."
He groans, letting his head fall back into the couch. "You're so annoying," he says to you with a grin.
"Takes one to know one," you tease back. He grabs the nearest throw pillow, lobbing it at you and hitting you in the arm.
"Okay, I probably earned that," you admit with a laugh.
The current song ends, the gentle guitar strums of "Stairway to Heaven" filling your ears as the iconic song begins.
"Oh shit, shut up," you tell Jeonghan, launching the pillow right back at him. He jumps slightly as the unexpected pillow hits him in the chest with a soft thump. "I fucking love this song."
He is about to tell you that duh, everybody with a brain loves this song — but your eyes are closed already, bobbing your head slightly to the beat, clearly already lost in it; so he just shakes his head, chuckling silently to himself.
The both of you feel like you're drifting to a higher plane as the song progresses, fully immersed in the grand crescendo you've both heard so many times yet have never tired of. When it ends, your eyes flutter open again, finding Jeonghan fully sunk into the other end of the couch. You start to wonder if he actually fell asleep, but then he lifts his head, opening his eyes to look at you.
"You know how some people say a hot dog is a sandwich?" he asks. You stare at him for a moment, trying to comprehend in your inebriated state what it was he just said.
"Who the fuck says that?" you inquire once you finally process his question.
"I dunno. People."
"Stupid people, maybe."
"I mean, yeah," he agrees. "But like… do you think pizza is a sandwich?"
You stare at him for a moment. "What?"
"I don't know, it's got bread and cheese and meat and tomatoes, right? Those things go on sandwiches."
"You're high as shit, dumbass," you tell him.
"Okay, well watch this!" He reaches over to the pizza box and picks up a new slice. Turning to show it to you, he slowly folds it in half. "See? That's a sandwich!"
"Oh shut the fuck up," you reply, but you can't help but laugh.
Jeonghan munches on his pizza-sandwich while you reach for your stash, refilling the bowl and lighting up again. When he finishes, you hand the bong over.
"Not like either of us needs it, but whatever man," you say with a pleased grin.
With heavy, banging drum beats, the last song on the album begins to play. This one has always been Jeonghan's favorite, you recall despite being astronomically faded. You glance over at him, finding him staring out the open window into the now-dark night. Certainly not out of the ordinary, but something about him in this moment seems… sad, almost. He notices you watching him, but he seems to have become self-conscious, averting your gaze.
"What's on your mind?"
Jeonghan continues staring out the window, but he lets out a small sigh.
"Do you ever think about how big the universe is?" he asks. "And then it makes you realize how small and meaningless we really are?"
You pause for a minute, considering the gravity of his question.
"No, not really," you finally answer gently. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he answers instinctively; but after thinking about it for a moment, he adds: "But sometimes I wonder if I'm not."
"In what way?"
"Just… the whole entire world feels impossibly huge, yet Earth is just a tiny pale blue dot compared to the whole galaxy. In the grand scheme of things, we're nothing. Nothing we do matters."
"I don't think that's true at all."
Jeonghan finally looks over to you, staring at you curiously.
"But how? How can anything have any meaning if we are so tiny?"
"I think that makes everything all that much more meaningful," you reply. "Like… the universe is so huge and vast and yet here we are, chillin' together, existing at just the right time to eat pizza and listen to Zepp. I just think that's a really nice thought."
"Hmm," he mumbles, opening his mouth to say something else — but his words never come. At this point he is so physically relaxed that he seems fused to the couch.
"You're fuckin' blasted, dude," you giggle, reaching over and shaking him playfully.
"Am nottttt," he pouts, but moments later he starts giggling too. "Okay, fine, I am. But, I guess I've just never thought of it that way before."
The album ends, the room falling silent. You get up, casually shuffling over to your ever-growing collection of records that is now taking up the entire corner of the small living room.
"What next?" you ask Jeonghan over your shoulder.
"Surprise me."
You peruse through your titles, not sure exactly what you're looking for; but then one catches your eye.
"Ooh, got it," you say with a grin. You replace the vinyl on the turntable and set the needle in position, the sounds of Dookie by Green Day playing aloud in the room, making Jeonghan smile too.
[TWO]
You stroll through the library, exiting the stacks to make your way to your next class. On your way out, you're surprised to spot Jeonghan, sitting alone at one of the tables. Unexpected — as he usually spends most of his free time out in the quad or in the Comms Building's study space; if he's in the library, it's usually just to take a nap. He has a book on the desk beside him, but it's closed, and he instead seems to be intensely focused on a piece of paper, brow furrowed and deep in thought. You walk over to him, but he doesn't notice you approaching. As you near the desk you can see the word APPLICATION in bold font at the top of the paper.
"Yay, you're doing it!!" you say to him as you appear beside him, shaking him by the shoulder excitedly and making him nearly fly out of his seat.
"Jesus Christ you have got to stop sneaking up on me!" he yelps quietly, but it still earns him a glare from a nearby librarian. She raises her finger to her lips, shushing the two of you before going back to re-shelving books. You sit down in the chair next to him, scooting in close enough so you can whisper.
"This is so exciting!" you tell him in a hushed voice, but he sighs, shaking his head.
"I'm not even sure if I'm gonna turn it in," he admits.
"What? Dude, you're halfway there, just finish and go turn it in!"
"I don't know," he frowns. "They're probably just gonna laugh at me."
You raise your brow at him. "Why on earth would you think they'd do that?"
"Most people do," he shrugs.
"Well, even if they do — which they won't — who cares?" you question. "Just follow your dreams, don't let other people get in the way."
The librarian turns around again, her displeased glare telling you you're still being too loud for her liking.
"C'mon," you say to Jeonghan. "Finish up your application and let's get out of here."
He quickly fills out the rest of the form and you ditch the library together. Jeonghan is done with classes for the day, but he accompanies you across the quad to your next class.
"What are you up to tonight?" he asks. He kicks a pebble along the sidewalk as he walks; you watch his dingy old converse scuff against the ground as he does, noticing the small hole forming in the toe of his right shoe.
"I'm getting dinner with Mark," you reply casually. You see his face drop slightly out of the corner of your eye.
"Basketball team Mark?"
"Yep! We have History of Feminist Literature together, though he's a Economics major so he's just taking it for an elective."
"Hm," Jeonghan says out loud without meaning to.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing. You just hardly ever go on dates, that's all."
"Oh, it's not a date," you say plainly, but you see him roll his eyes. "It's not!!" you insist. "We're just friends."
"I doubt he sees it that way."
"And how would you know that?"
"Because dudes only think with their dicks."
"Are you speaking from experience?" you inquire teasingly.
"This is not about me," he mutters, looking mildly embarrassed as he avoids eye contact. Luckily for him, you've arrived at the Literature Hall, giving him an excuse to change the subject.
"Hope you have a good class," he tells you warmly.
"Thanks," you reply with a smile. "Now you go turn in that job application or I'm going to kick your ass."
"I will," he laughs.
"Pinky promise?" you ask, extending your hand. He chuckles, but he connects pinkies with you.
"I promise."
"Good!" you tell him with a grin. "See ya later!"
"See ya," he smiles back.
You unlock your front door quietly, trying not to make noise and wake up your roommate considering how late it is by now. But as you enter the apartment you see her sitting at the computer, back turned to you as she is absorbed in whatever is on the screen.
"Hey, I didn't think you'd still be up," you say as you shut the door and kick your shoes off.
"Oh hey," Mina replies as she turns around to greet you. She lifts her wrist to peer at her watch. "Damn, I didn't realize how late it was."
"What are you doing on the computer?" you inquire, walking over to the desk out of curiosity.
"It's this new MySpace website Irene told me about," she replies, turning back around and double-clicking on something. "It's so sick, I've been here all night making my profile."
"Oh yeah, I've heard of that," you tell her as you watch her scroll through her profile. "Seems pretty cool."
"You should make one!" she tells you. "I can add you to my Top 8 friends."
"Oh, maybe. I'm still getting used to this whole Internet thing, honestly," you laugh.
"Soooo," Mina starts, shutting down the computer and heading into the kitchen. "How was your date with Mark?"
"It wasn't a date," you tell her. "I don't know why everyone keeps saying that."
"Okay, whatever," she responds, browsing through the snack cabinet for a minute before deciding on the bag of Cheeto Puffs. "How was your not-date?"
"It was… good."
"You don't sound so sure about that."
"No, it was!" you assure her. "It's just that… I don't know, he kinda just talked about basketball the whole time."
"Ugh. Typical guy shit," Mina rolls her eyes.
"He's really nice, though…" you say, though you're not sure if you're trying to convince her or yourself more.
"Nice enough to go on a second date — sorry, not-date with?" she raises her brow at you.
"Well, I don't know about that…"
You sigh, feeling a bit dejected suddenly. It's not like you're trying to date or anything, but you can't deny that it would be kinda nice to have at least a little bit more success.
"Maybe I should just give up on dating," you grimace.
Mina pops another Cheeto in her mouth. "I mean, I don't know why you bother. You basically already have a BF."
"What?" you ask, puzzled. "No I don't?"
"C'mon, you're literally hanging out with what's-his-name all the time. The metalhead."
"Jeonghan?? He's not into metal."
"Okay, whatever noise it is you guys listen to."
"It's called punk, and it's cool."
"Riiight."
"Anyway, he's just my friend," you tell her. Her lips curve into a slight grin, and she gives you a look.
"Sure he is."
"I can be friends with dudes!"
"Dudes only think with their dicks," she retorts, echoing Jeonghan's exact words from earlier.
"He's not like that," you assure her.
"Well that's rare, if true. Maybe you should date him."
You roll your eyes, but you're tired. Mina means well, but you don't really feel like having this conversation right now. Luckily, she's already putting her snack away, and then heads off to her room.
"Anyway, I'm off to bed. Goodnight!"
You too head off to bed, but as you brush your teeth you start to think about what Mina said. What if Jeonghan does see me as more than a friend? you wonder to yourself. After all, he did say the exact same thing earlier, too. You don't think he meant it in that way, but now you're beginning to second-guess your intuition…
You go straight to bed, deciding not to think about it anymore tonight.
[THREE]
You have some time between classes, so you take up residence in your usual spot in the quad, sitting on the ground reclined against your usual tree. Fall is officially here now, and it's a bit cold out, but you're perfectly comfortable in your thick sweater and windbreaker. Out of the corner of your eye, you suddenly see something in the distance charging directly at you. Looking up from your book, you see Jeonghan, forgoing the sidewalks and sprinting across the grass straight toward you, waving and flailing his arms like a maniac.
"You look like a psychopath," you call to him as he approaches.
"I got it!!!"
"Got wha— wait, the DJ job?!" you perk up excitedly.
"YES!!"
He plops down on the ground next to you, out of breath from running, but he doesn't seem to notice or care.
"Holy shit, congrats!!" you tell him enthusiastically. "See, I told you you'd get it!"
"I can't believe I almost ripped up the application and threw it in the trash."
"Jeonghan!" you blurt out, hitting him playfully in the arm, but he just shakes his head and laughs.
"I didn't though! You made me pinky promise."
"This is amazing! When do you start?"
"Tonight, actually," he answers. "Unfortunately, I'm stuck on the late night shift since I'm a newbie — 10pm–4am."
"Oh, yikes," you reply concernedly, but he shrugs it off.
"It's fine," he smiles. "I don't sleep anyway."
"Damn, I guess I'm never gonna see you again," you say jokingly, but an unexpected wave of sadness washes over you as your own words sink in.
"No way," he shakes his head resolutely. "We're still gonna hang out. I'll find a way to make it happen."
A fluttering sensation hits your stomach. You hang out with Jeonghan all the time, so you're not sure why you'd have this reaction. But something about the way he said it — "I'll find a way"— feels… different. But, regardless, you're just glad you're still going to be able to see your friend.
"What are you doing until then?" you inquire.
"I was just gonna go grab a bite at the dining hall and then go nap in the library."
"Wanna go to Jacq's instead?" you ask. "My treat."
Jeonghan's face lights up. "Hell yeah," he grins. "That sounds like a way better idea."
The low hum of neon lights buzzes gently through the tune of the usual rotation of 1960s hits as you and Jeonghan sit in the corner booth, chatting and giggling over your meal. Jacqueline's Diner is an old-fashioned joint, and the majority of its clientele is over the age of 60 — but the food is cheap, greasy, and delicious, so the two of you are practically regulars. Jeonghan ordered his usual, chicken tenders and a Cherry Coke float; you opted for a grilled cheese and chocolate milkshake, and you ordered a basket of fries to share.
"You heard about this MySpace?" Jeonghan asks, dipping three large, salty fries in ketchup and shoving them all into his mouth at once.
"Oh yeah," you say, picking the maraschino cherry off the top of the whipped cream and eating it one bite. "Mina's on there, she told me about it. Seems pretty cool."
"I think it sounds lame," he shrugs indifferently.
"What? Why?"
"I dunno, the whole Top 8 friends is kinda weird. Just sounds like one big popularity contest if you ask me."
"Yeah, I guess so," you agree.
"Besides, I don't even have eight friends."
"Oh shut up," you retort. "That's not true!"
"It's okay," Jeonghan chuckles. "I'm just not the kind of guy who has a lot of friends."
"We'll I'd put you in my Top 8," you tell him, but he rolls his eyes. "It's true, I would!"
"C'mon, y/n," he laughs. "You have so many friends."
"Mmm, not really," you reply. "Not ones I hang out with on the regular, anyway. It's mostly you and Mina these days."
"Well, thanks for hanging out with me," he says sheepishly.
"You say that like it's a charity case," you tease him. "I hang out with you because I like you, moron."
Jeonghan says nothing, sipping on his float instead, but the big grin creeping across his face is undeniable.
"So," you ask after a bite of grilled cheese. "Are you excited?"
"For the job?"
"No, for Christmas," you reply jokingly. "Yes, the job!!"
"I guess so," he shrugs. "Mostly I'm just nervous."
"Why?"
"Because what if I'm bad at it and they fire me?"
"Jeonghan, that is not going to happen."
"But I don't know what I'm doing!" he frowns.
"Dude, nobody knows what they're doing when they start a new job," you remind him. "Besides, they're going to train you! You'll learn the ropes in no time."
"What if I don't?"
"I find that hard to believe. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for, Hannie. Stop being so hard on yourself."
"Easier said than done," he replies lightheartedly, but his lack of confidence still shows.
"Why is that?" you inquire.
He thinks for a moment. "I don't know," he eventually answers. "Sometimes it just feels like there's a little voice in my head telling me I suck at everything and that I should just give up."
"I worry about you sometimes."
"I'm okay, I promise," he smiles softly at you. "Sorry for being sad so much."
"You don't have to apologize for that," you tell him firmly. "You're my friend and I'm here for you no matter what."
A couple remaining fries sit at the bottom of the basket, calling to you from the red-and-white checkered paper lining. You reach for them, but Jeonghan does too, your hands colliding over the table.
"Ope, sorry," he says timidly, retracting his hand. "You can have it."
"No, you take it," you insist, sliding the basket toward him. "You've got a long night ahead of you, you need the fuel. Speaking of, want another float?"
"No, it's oka—"
But you're already signaling to the waitress across the restaurant, pointing to Jeonghan's empty glass.
"I don't know why I asked," you tell him. "I already knew the answer."
The waitress quickly brings him a refill in a fresh glass, complete with his usual order of an extra cherry on top.
"Thanks, y/n," he smiles. "You're the best."
After you finish your meal and pay, Jeonghan drives you home. He pulls up next to the curb outside your apartment, putting the car into park and turning to face you.
"Thanks again for dinner," he smiles.
"Of course," you smile back. "I got ya. And I'll make sure to tune into WFVC tonight!"
Jeonghan chuckles, shaking his head. "I don't think I'm going to be on the air just yet. I think I gotta be less of a noob first."
"Well, I'll be thinking of you anyway," you tell him with a nod. He drops his head slightly, trying to hide his face behind his long hair.
"Besides, I wanna support the station — and maybe I'll find some new bands I like." You playfully give him a punch him in the arm. "Jut remember to relax, you're gonna crush it."
"I'll do my best," he promises.
"Good!" you nod, opening the passenger door and hopping out of the car. "Later skater," you smile at him, giving him a wave before shutting the door. He waves back, watching you walk toward your building, waiting until you've made it safely inside before shifting the car into gear and driving off.
[FOUR]
Jeonghan stands in the hallway, staring at the windowless, red door in front of him. He pulls a crumpled sticky note out of his jacket pocket, flattening it to reveal C-302 written in smudged pen. Looking up, he triple-checks the room number on the small metal plaque next to the door, but just as the first two times, it still reads C-302. The dozens of band stickers all over the door, some that look like they have been there for decades, are also a dead giveaway — this is it: the campus radio station. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, then reaches for the door handle.
As the door swings open, a small, hectic room comes into view. Floor-to-ceiling shelves line every bit of wall, overflowing with endless stacks of CD cases; the rest of the room is crammed full of all sorts of audio and mixing equipment — some he recognizes, some he doesn't — and it seems that every bit of exposed surface is covered in show posters and even more band stickers. A too-small desk pushed against the far wall houses two computers, and at one of them sits a tough-looking man with a ponytail, seemingly older than himself, but not by much — perhaps a graduate student. The man peers up as Jeonghan enters the room.
"Hi, I'm Jeonghan," he says timidly. "I'm the new student employee, I was told to meet here at 9:45—"
"Yes, hello!" the man says cheerfully, hopping out of his seat and strutting across the room to give Jeonghan a very firm handshake. "I'm A.J., I'm the one running this joint for the most part — aside from Professor Sampson, of course. You're in undergrad, yeah?"
"Yes," Jeonghan replies politely, relieved that the man doesn't have the tough-guy demeanor he initially expected. "I'm a Junior."
"Awesome, well welcome to the team bro! Johnny's almost wrapped in the booth, and then you're on," he says, pointing his thumb back at the small window in the far wall; Jeonghan tries to peer through it, but all he can see is the top of the current DJ's head, clad with chunky headphones. "But don't worry — tonight I'll be showing you the ropes, so you just have to follow my lead. Cool?"
"Yeah, cool," Jeonghan nods in agreement.
"Excellent! Well, for starters, obviously we want to keep the volume to a minimum so there's no background noises when we're on air, but the soundproofing in the booth is good enough that you can talk at a regular volume out here and nobody's gonna hear ya. Just no screaming or anything crazy. As you can see over here," he says, pointing to the packed shelves. "We have quite a number of CDs on file. Now, I assume you're familiar with the station's catalogue?" Jeonghan nods, and A.J. continues. "Good. So you know we don't play anything that's even remotely popular — and if it's ever been on the radio, forget it. Most of our inventory is underground artists, garage bands, et cetera; the purpose of this station is to put a spotlight on new or small groups, show them some love and appreciation. So unless you're big into the local scene, you probably won't have heard of most of these bands."
Jeonghan skims over the nearest shelf, sure enough finding nothing familiar. Instead he finds jewel cases boasting all sorts of unheard-of band names — plunk!, Blister, Pisswizard, The Underwater Grandmas, and Groob, to name a few.
"Anyway, few ground rules. First, if the ON AIR sign is lit, you are live. Don't go saying anything you don't want hundreds of strangers to hear. Second, keep up with the queue, but also clean up after yourself. Don't leave loose CDs laying around, and make sure they go back into their actual cases — makes everyone's jobs easier."
Jeonghan nods attentively, trying not to seem nervous, but he feels like he's not doing a very good job. A.J. seems to notice too, but he claps Jeonghan on the shoulder and gives him a grin.
"Third, and this one's the most important if you ask me: just have fun. As long as you're doing a good job, just be yourself. Nothin' to stress over, I promise."
Jeonghan hears the booth door swing open; peering over A.J.'s shoulder, he sees a tall, dark-haired student stepping out into the main room.
"Ope, looks like we're on," A.J. says to him. "Johnny, this is Jeonghan, our new night shift guy."
Johnny walks over, shaking Jeonghan's hand enthusiastically. "Welcome! Nice to meet you, bro!"
"Thanks," Jeonghan replies, slightly intimidated by how friendly everyone is being, but he smiles politely at his new coworkers.
"Catch you guys 'round!" Johnny says as he takes off, giving the other two men a cheerful salute.
"Alright, the queue will be running for another 10 minutes or so," A.J. says as he enters the booth, pointing at the unlit ON AIR sign. "So in the meantime I can show you the basics…"
As promised, A.J. gives him the rundown, going over the master audio mixer controls, how to queue up songs, how to check the logs to see what's already been played, and a few different generic scripts for radio announcements.
"Like I said, you won't be talking on air just yet. But it's good for practice — and the more you practice the more natural it'll feel," he assures him. "Alright, we're coming up on the end of the queue. Grab some discs from that stack over there — doesn't matter which ones, really — and get them ready, I'll make the announcement." He places the bulky headphones on, pulling the mic in front of him and waiting for the song's outro begin to fade. He signals to Jeonghan as he goes live, the ON AIR sign lighting up bright red above their heads.
"That was 'Bitchcraft' by the Lipstick Dollz, and you're listening to WFVC 90.5 — the hottest place for underground punk and badass rock n' roll," A.J. speaks effortlessly into the mic. "Coming up next for you this hour, we've got some more Doomcock, a few from Spaceshuttle, and The Mary Jane Planes with their newest track, "Reefer Renegade" — only here on WFVC 90.5. Don't you dare touch that fuckin' tuner!"
The ON AIR sign shuts off, its red glow disappearing as the next song begins to play.
"See? Pretty easy," A.J. grins.
"Damn, that sounds so cool when you do it," Jeonghan tells him shyly.
"Don't sweat it, man. You'll get the hang of it in no time!"
Jeonghan isn't so sure, but he tries not to let the negative thoughts win. A.J. has him running the broadcast mixer, learning how to fade in and out and how to balance everything just right. He picks up on it faster than he expected, and the rest of the late-night shift seems to fly by. The job isn't the most exciting thing, but it's fun and interesting — and Jeonghan finds he enjoys even the monotony of mindlessly shelving CDs back into their places. But it seems that as soon as there's a lull in the job, you pop into his mind. By the time it's the middle of the night, he's certain you must have gone to bed by now — but he wonders if you were actually listening earlier. Did she like the music? he muses. Did she think of me at all?
He doesn't know the answer, but he really hopes you did.
The next day, Jeonghan doesn't show up to class.
You don't actually have any classes with him this semester, but after your Advanced Creative Writing class you always meet him in the quad underneath the usual tree. He's usually there first, so you waited for him for about 10 minutes — but he never showed.
Fortunately, his apartment is within walking distance from campus, so you make your way there. You knock on his door, but no response. You try again, a bit louder; after a few moments you hear footsteps from within the unit, shuffling their way toward the front door. The door swings open, revealing a messy-haired Jeonghan wearing pajamas, looking very much like you just woke him up.
"Have you been sleeping all day??" you ask with a grin.
"I guess so," he answers, placing his hand over his mouth as he yawns. "What time even is it?"
"3:23pm," you read from your wristwatch.
"Holy shit," he grumbles. "I slept through everything."
"You must've been exhausted," you point out. "Sorry for waking you up, I just wanted to make sure you were alive."
"No, no — don't apologize," he shakes his head. "Here, come on in," he says as he swings the door open, traipsing back into the apartment. "I'll make us some coffee."
You follow your sleepy friend into his kitchen, where he locates a bag of coffee grounds and starts to brew a fresh pot.
"Soooo," you say eagerly, sitting down at the kitchen table. It's stacked with books, CDs, piles of mail, and one very ripe-looking banana sitting atop a toppled box of Lucky Charms — but you're able to clear off enough space for two coffee mugs. "How was it? Tell me everything!"
"It was actually really good!" he responds enthusiastically, leaning against the counter. The warm aroma of hot coffee drifts across the room as the dark liquid begins to drip into the carafe. "Nothing particularly exciting, since I was just training. But it's all super cool, I think I'm really going to like it."
You haven't seen Jeonghan this excited about something since he scored tickets to the blink-182 concert last summer. He's become one of your closest friends, so you know that he's generally a bit of a melancholy guy — but seeing him so passionate about something really warms your heart. Happiness is a good look on him, you think to yourself.
"What's that look for?" he inquires, raising his brow at you.
"Nothing! I'm just really excited for you," you smile at him. "I was listening last night, you know."
His face lights up. "You were?" he asks eagerly The pot begins to sputter as the coffee finishes brewing; he grabs two mugs, filling them with the beverage: one cup black, for himself, and one with a tablespoon of sugar, for you.
"Of course! I said I was going to, didn't I?"
"You did," he smiles, bringing the mugs to the table and setting yours in front of you. You take a sip — it's piping hot, but it's delicious. "Didja hear any new songs you liked?"
"Yeah, I really liked all of it! There was one band called something weird that I enjoyed, I think it was 'Beenis'?"
Jeonghan laughs. "Yeah, I recall seeing a Beenis in the mix. Hey, speaking of new bands…"
He gets up, fetching his backpack and pulling a slightly-bent bright yellow piece of paper from it. He hands it to you, and you see that it's a flier for a show down at Dizzy's Tavern, a local dive bar known for it's cheap beer and loud, live rock music. The two bands listed are Fuckwagon and The Flagstaff Arizonas — names you've certainly never heard of before, but then again you're not too acquainted with the local music scene.
"My boss told me about this show tonight, apparently Fuckwagon are a pretty well-known name around the station. Said they're always bringing in new demos and singles for us to play," he explains. "I don't work tonight, and I don't know what you're up to, but I thought maybe we could go check it out."
"I'm down! I have nothing else going on today, and that sounds fun!"
"Sweet," Jeonghan replies casually, trying to contain his excitement, but his face is positively beaming. "I'll pick you up at 7:45, then?"
"Sounds like a plan," you grin back at him.
[FIVE]
Dizzy's Tavern is, for lack of better words, a shithole. As you step through the front door you are immediately hit with a wall of cigarette smoke that is somehow both stale and fresh. It's dark inside, the only source of lighting being the red lights above the bar and neon signs of various beer brands hanging around the walls; despite the dim environment, the dinginess of the establishment is still glaringly obvious. The place is a decent size, but it's packed — there are people of all ages, most of whom seem to be clad in leather jackets, and many with hair dyed unnatural colors or a multitude of piercings. The vibe of the place certainly screams punk.
"Holy shit, it's crowded," you remark to Jeonghan as you both shuffle into the crowded bar area.
"We don't have to stay if it's too much—" he quickly offers.
"No, it's okay!" you assure him. "I just think this will be more fun once I have a drink or two in me," you say lightheartedly.
"What do you want to drink?" he asks, grabbing onto your arm gently as you meander through the throng of bodies as not to get separated.
"Jack and Coke," you answer. He raises a brow at you.
"Oh so we're drinking drinking tonight," he smirks.
"Hey, you get whatever you want," you tell him, poking him in the chest. "You don't have to drink just because of me."
"Maybe I want to."
"Okay, just be careful though. I know how much of a lightweight you are."
"Hey!" he protests.
"Well, you are! Am I wrong?"
"No, you're right," he concedes with a smile. "As usual."
He finally gets the bartender's attention, ordering a Jack and Coke for the both of you. You sip it as you make your way through the crowd, holding onto Jeonghan as you head toward the small stage at the back of the bar. The band isn't on yet; according to the flier they should be on any minute now, but you have a feeling that being precisely punctual perhaps isn't very punk rock.
"Let's hang out here," you say, spotting a tiny, unoccupied high-top table off to the side. It's less crowded over here, and not too close to the stage. "I'm sure we will be able to hear just fine."
You're in the middle of a very non-serious debate about Halloween costumes when you spot a familiar face emerging from the nearby hall that leads to the bathrooms. It's Joshua, your weed dealer, and you unintentionally make eye contact with him. His face lights up with recognition, and he waves at you, heading in your direction. Jeonghan looks over his shoulder, doing a poor job of hiding his grimace when he realizes who it is.
"Hey hey!" Joshua says cheerfully as he approaches your table. "What's up you guys?"
"Hi Joshua!" you tell him cheerfully. "We're here to see the show," you explain, nudging your head toward the still-empty stage. You want to ask him what exactly he's doing here, considering that this doesn't seem to be his scene in the slightest, but you figure that might be a bit rude.
"Oh, cool!" he nods eagerly. "Hey, by the way," he says, leaning in to the both of you. "I got some new school supplies coming my way soon, if you catch my drift." He winks at Jeonghan, nudging him playfully with his elbow. "I'll make sure to save the good stuff for you."
Jeonghan stands there frozen with awkwardness at Joshua's directness. "Um," he finally manages to reply. "Yeah, uh, that sounds cool. Thanks."
"Awesome!" Joshua smiles at him sweetly. Turning back to you, he gives you a casual salute.
"Well, I gotta bounce," he excuses himself. "Catch you guys on the flip side."
Once he's out of earshot, you turn to Jeonghan, giving him a knowing look.
"Told you," you tease. "He's like that with everyone."
"Okay, okay, fine," he huffs, raising his hands defeatedly, but a smile spreads across his face. "I believe you now."
Several minutes later, the band finally comes out on stage, eliciting drunken cheering and whooping from the crowd of bar-goers.
"What the fuck is up!!!" the lead singer screams into the microphone. "We're Fuckwagon, and here's some fucking music!"
A screeching guitar riff begins, joined momentarily by crashing drums and a bassline that somehow already seems out of sync with the song. The lead singer appears to be playing the shrill guitar, and the bass player also has a mic; they start singing in tandem — sort of. You're not sure if the sounds coming from either of them can even be considered singing, but they proceed regardless, wailing into the mics as the drummer is already flailing crazily at the drum set. You nod your head to the beat as best you can; turning to Jeonghan, you see he also wears a stunned expression, staring blankly at the raucous scene on the stage.
"Is this the same song or a new one?" you ask him a few minutes later, leaning in to speak into his ear.
"Fuck if I know," he shrugs. He tosses back the rest of his drink, picking up your empty glass as well. "Want another one?"
"Yeah, definitely."
He returns a few minutes later with two fresh Jack and Cokes in hand. The lead singer has somehow already taken his shirt off, revealing a plethora of tattoos that you personally would consider hideous. You and Jeonghan down the drinks fast — unintentionally, but anything to make the music more tolerable. There seems to be no distinction from one song to the next, the night going by in a non-stop cacophony of hard, grungy rock sounds. You don't pay too much attention to the music though, instead talking and laughing with Jeonghan the whole time.
"That's not even the weirdest part," Jeonghan continues his story, resting his elbow on your shoulder as he leans in close to your face. "The next week, I get home and the apartment is filled with boxes of potatoes. Turns out, Jun had built a potato cannon, and he thought he had placed an order for a hundred potatoes — but he had accidentally ordered a hundred ten-pound bags."
"Oh my god," you laugh in disbelief. "How did he not notice, wasn't it expensive??"
"I have genuinely no idea," Jeonghan shakes his head, also laughing. "He just does things like that sometimes."
"I think he has to be the strangest guy I've ever met," you respond. "I can't believe you live with him."
"Hey, he's a great roommate. He's clean, quiet, and half the time he's not even there — off doing god knows what."
"And that was our last song!!!" the lead singer screams into the mic over the drummer continuing his solo despite the song having ended. "Goodnight motherfuckaaaas!!!"
The band exits the stage, the next band already setting up their instruments.
"Thank god," you say to Jeonghan, who is all but fully leaning on you at this point. You pick his drink up off the table, finishing it off before he can drink any more; he doesn't seem to notice.
"You think the next band will be any better?" he asks you, his face mere inches from yours, heavy eyelids blinking slowly in his drunken state.
"There's no way they can possibly be worse than that."
You were wrong. Despite it being harsh and grating, the first band at least had upbeat rock music; the new band consists of six people, one of whom plays the trumpet, and all of whom barely fit on the stage — and their music is dull, drawn-out, and extremely repetitive. You're not sure if lead singer is drunk or if he just sounds like he is, but either way, it's borderline insufferable.
You turn to Jeonghan, about to suggest you call it a night, but he clearly has the exact same thought.
"Should we… leave?"
"Yeeaaaah," you nod eagerly in agreement. "We should leave."
It's even colder now as you step out of the bar, but despite the chilly autumn wind the fresh, smoke-free air feels delightful.
"So," Jeonghan asks as you stroll down the sidewalk together. He drove you to the bar, but neither one of you seem to recall that detail — but you're both too drunk to drive, anyway. "What did you think of… that?"
"I think it sucked shit," you reply honestly. Jeonghan bursts out laughing, making you start giggling too.
"Yeah, that was pretty terrible," he agrees. "Sorry I dragged you to this."
"Don't be!" you insist. "I still had a good time."
"Good," Jeonghan replies, a smile lighting up his face. "I did too."
Though your apartment is further than his, he walks you home first. The alcohol in your system has kept you warm all night, but the cold nighttime breeze is starting to get to you. You shiver, tugging the sleeves of your sweater down over your hands and tucking them into you as you cross your arms to try and stay warm.
"Here," Jeonghan tells you as soon as he notices, immediately taking his jacket off.
"No, I'll be fine—" you start, but he's already wrapping it around your shoulders. The jacket is warm, both from its thick leather and Jeonghan's body heat. You accept it graciously, slipping your arms into the baggy sleeves and zipping it all the way up.
"Thanks," you tell him sincerely. "You're the best."
In the dim orange-y glow of the incandescent streetlamps it's hard to tell, but Jeonghan blushes, his face turning even pinker than the alcohol made him.
You arrive outside your apartment a few minutes later.
"Well, goodnight," Jeonghan smiles at you. To his surprise, you suddenly throw your arms around him, leaning your head against his shoulder as you hug him. He tenses up slightly as his inebriated brain tries to process what's happening, but slowly he wraps his arms around you too, sinking into your embrace. It only lasts a few seconds, but the moment simultaneously feels hours long and also over way too fast.
"Goodnight," you reply as you let go, waving as you turn toward the sidewalk to head home. "Get home safe, okay?"
"I will," he nods softly. He watches until you've made it inside, then turns to head back to his own apartment, wondering if you knew that you just completely flipped his world upside down.
[SIX]
You wake up the next day uncomfortably hot.
Prying your eyes open, you see that you're in your living room. Apparently, you were too tired to make it all the way to your bedroom, so you just crashed on the couch, still wearing your shoes and Jeonghan's jacket. Your arm feels like lead as you try to lift it, peering at your watch: 12:16pm.
"Holy shit," you grumble as you hoist yourself up into a sitting position, your head pounding with a killer hangover. A few seconds later, Mina walks into the room.
"Jesus Christ, you're a mess," she tells you bluntly. "What the hell did you do last night?"
"Um, went to a shitty bar and saw a shitty band," you answer, rubbing your aching eyes. "Scratch that — two shitty bands."
"With your boyfriend, I assume?" she asks, glancing at the oversized leather jacket with its many pins and buttons.
"He's not my boyfriend," you mumble through a yawn, shimmying out of the jacket and neatly placing on the armrest next to you.
"Well, you knew who I was talking about without me even saying his name, soooo…"
"Shut uppp," you groan, flopping your tired head onto the back of the couch. With a pleased grin, she heads into the kitchen. You close your eyes, nodding off again, but soon you start to smell fresh coffee, and hear the sound of a sizzling skillet. A few minutes later, Mina returns, carrying a large mug of steaming coffee and a plate of fried eggs and pancakes.
"Here, eat," she says firmly, setting the plate and mug in front of you on the coffee table.
"Thanks, Mina," you smile at her.
After devouring your breakfast, you hop in the shower, standing there under the hot stream of water for far too long — but, you feel a million times better afterward. You toss on some sweats and decide to work on some homework from your bed. After a surprisingly productive afternoon, make your way back to the kitchen to find some dinner. On your way there, you pass by the couch, spotting Jeonghan's jacket still laying there. You feel bad that you didn't remember to give it back last night — after all, this is quite literally his only jacket. You're figure you should just take it over to him after you eat dinner. But, you're pretty sure he mentioned that he was working tonight; and since it's getting late and campus is a closer walk for you anyway, you figure you'll just try and drop it off at the station.
Your walk to campus is eerily empty. You've never seen this few people around, but it is Saturday night, after all. Most people are probably either at home or partying off-campus by this point. You approach the Comms building, suddenly worried that the door might be locked at this hour; but its swings right open when you pull it, and you let yourself inside. You've only had a couple classes in this building before, so you're not familiar with its layout, and you realize you have no idea where the radio station is actually located. You're about to start wandering down the halls in a random direction when you spot a directory by the staircase. The station appears to be on the top floor, so you head up the stairs.
There's no signage for the station, but you figure the bright red door with all the stickers all over it is probably the one you need. You knock at the door quietly, just now realizing that maybe this was a bad idea and that you shouldn't be here. You consider turning around and leaving before you can bother anybody, but then the door swings open. A tough-looking man with long hair and a beard pokes his head out.
"Hi, so sorry to bother you," you tell him apologetically. "But I was wondering if Jeonghan was working tonight? I just wanted to drop off his jacket."
"Oh!" the man replies with a smile, looking suddenly much less intimidating. "Yeah, he's here, come on in!"
You're not sure what exactly you thought a college radio station that plays punk music would look like, but this place seems to fit the bill. You don't see Jeonghan, but then the man points his thumb back to the small window in the far wall.
"He's in the booth right now, but I'll go grab him once we cut to commercial," he tells you. "I'm A.J., by the way," he adds, extending his hand to you.
"Y/n," you introduce yourself.
"Oh, so you're y/n!" A.J. responds amicably. "I've heard all about you.""
"Oh," you reply, feeling your face turn hot suddenly. "Really?"
"Yeah, Jeonghan talks about you all the time. All good things, though, I promise," he smiles. "Hey, I gotta go fax something real quick — just hang out in here for a sec, I'll be right back."
He exits the room, and you walk over to the window, peering into the booth. There's a lot of equipment in the way, but you spot the back of Jeonghan's head, clad with headphones and bobbing his head to whatever must be playing on the radio right now. You can't see his face, but you get the sense that he really is enjoying the job.
A.J. returns in a couple minutes. He waits outside the booth door, glancing at the lit-up ON AIR sign overhead.
"I'll go grab him as soon we're not on air," he tells you. Sure enough, it shuts off a few seconds later, and he slips into the booth. Watching through the window, you see Jeonghan turn around to greet his boss; A.J. points to you through the window, and Jeonghan turns, his face lighting up when he sees it's you.
"Hey!" he says cheerfully as he comes out to greet you. "What are you doing here?"
"Just returning your jacket I accidentally stole from you," you say, extending the garment to him.
"Oh yeah," he chuckles, taking the jacket from you. "I didn't even realize until I was almost home, I was wondering why I was so cold."
"Sorry," you smile apologetically.
"Don't even worry about it," he smiles back at you. "Thanks for bringing it to me, you didn't have to do that."
"Yes I did. I know for a fact that you don't own any other jackets," you tease.
"Okay, you got me there," he grins.
"How's the job going?" you ask.
"It's great!" he answers with more enthusiasm than you're used to from him. "I'm can officially run the show and be on air by myself now, no more supervision required."
"That's so cool," you beam at him. "You seem like you're really liking it so far."
"Yeah," he nods. "I definitely am."
"Well, I should let you get back to work now," you tell him. "Hope you have a good rest of your shift."
"Thanks, y/n," Jeonghan smiles warmly. "See ya later."
The end credits to Law & Order: Special Victims Unit begin to play as you lay on the couch, eating potato chips straight from the bag. It's not particularly the most exciting Saturday night you could be having, but you're enjoying the relaxing night in. You're not really in the mood to keep watching TV, so you grab the remote and shut it off. Mina isn't home yet, so you figure you'd take this opportunity to play your music out loud without wearing headphones. You get up and shuffle over to the boombox perched on the bookshelf, turning it on; it's tuned to the local pop station — clearly Mina used it last. You enjoy this station too, but your mind flashed back to Jeonghan in the booth. Maybe I'll hear him on the air, you think to yourself excitedly. You change the tuner to 90.5 and are greeted by the heavy tune of an unfamiliar but grungy-sounding song.
Plopping back on the couch you reach for your bag of chips again — but over the crinkling of the bag as you stick your hand in it, a very familiar voice comes through on the radio.
"You're listening to WFVC 90.5, the hottest place for underground punk and badass rock n' roll. The track you just heard was "Beautiful Monster" by Meatglove, one of their earliest and most iconic releases. Up next — we've got some Death Day Party for you, as well as a classic from Wunderguts; but first, some local flavor from Z-41 with their newest track "Hell Highway."
You're a bit taken aback by the confidence and air which he delivered his spiel. You can tell he's still getting used to it, but you swear you've never heard him sound so self-assured. The crashing drums of the next song begin; you're getting a bit sleepy, but you're comfy — so you end up laying on the couch for another hour or so, zoned out as you enjoy the music. You're halfway asleep when Mina returns home, so out of it that you don't even hear her come in; but you do hear Jeonghan's voice over the speakers, making you smile as your eyes start to drift close.
"I assume that's your boyfriend on the radio?"
Your eyes shoot open again at the sudden sound of Mina's voice. Looking up, you see her looming above you as she stands beside the armrest.
"I didn't even hear you come in," you tell her, rubbing your tired eyes.
"Yeah, I can tell," she teases. "You wouldn't be swooning and gushing over him like that if you knew I was here."
"I was not," you roll your eyes. "I was like half-asleep."
"Mhmm. Well, I'm going right to bed — goodnight!"
And with that, you're alone with the radio again.
While the commercials play, an idea pops into your head. You remember Jeonghan making an off-hand comment about how the station does take requests — it's just that hardly anyone ever calls them in. You consider for a minute, and then decide, fuck it.
You get up again, quietly heading over to the landline. You're don't actually know the number, so you flip through the phone book, perusing the thin yellow pages for the station. Eventually, you spot it: Foxville College Communications Department, WFVC 90.5 — 555-1004.
You dial the number, the line ringing as you wait for it to connect. You realize you're not even sure what exactly it is you planned to request, considering that the station only plays underground stuff. Anything you would normally request on the radio is off the table.
Before you can think of something, the line picks up.
"WFVC 90.5, we have a caller live on the air," you hear Jeonghan answer the call. "Hi there, whatcha calling for?"
Your stomach drops a bit — you weren't expecting him to actually pick up live on the air. You're not a shy person, but the thought that a bunch of random strangers can hear you right now does make you at least a little bit nervous.
"Hi!" you say cheerfully, careful not to be to so loud as to wake Mina. "Um, I was hoping I could call in a request."
"Of course you can!" he answers. You were wondering if Jeonghan would recognize your voice, but the slight pause and the upward shift in his voice tells you he definitely does. "What are you looking for?"
Thinking on the fly, you say the first thing that pops into your head.
"Well, I don't actually have a specific song in mind," you reply. " Can you play me something upbeat and happy? A song I'd play if I was just chilling with my friend or something."
"I sure can," Jeonghan responds, and you swear you can hear the smile in his voice. "What's your name?" he remembers to ask at the last second — of course, he already knows, but he makes sure he sticks to the script.
"Y/n," you tell him.
"Well, y/n, thanks for calling in — we appreciate ya. Got a special one just for you coming up right now: this one's called 'Heart Attack', by good friends of the station, Fever Baby — right here on WFVC 90.5!"
The call ends, the flat tone humming in your ear. You put the receiver back, heading back into the living room. You're not entirely sure how radio requests work, but you assume there's some sort of slight delay. Sure enough, right as you return the end of your call plays, followed by a light and rhythmic guitar strumming — the song he chose for you. You sit down as you listen, the melody picking up with a bright atmosphere. The song is exactly the vibe you were looking for, and you like it a lot. Turns out the band has a female lead too, something you always love, especially in this genre of music. You must've said that once a long time ago, in some off-hand comment, but Jeonghan remembered. That's the thing about Jeonghan, though — he always does.
[SEVEN]
The semester passes by, days getting shorter and temperatures getting lower as the final weeks of fall come to a close. School has kept you plenty busy, with midterms and papers taking up the majority of your time. You haven't been able to have as much of a social life as you would like, which isn't particularly unusual for this time of year; but Jeonghan especially has been busy — late nights at the station have caused his sleep schedule to shift significantly, rendering your schedules largely incompatible. You miss him, and you really hope you can find a way to hang out with him soon.
You're sitting in your apartment studying one night when the phone rings. The phone doesn't have caller ID, but you expect it's one of Mina's friends calling, as she likes to chat on the phone more often than you do. She's not home right now, so you could easily just let it go to voicemail, but something in you feels the urge to answer.
"Hello?" you answer as you pick up, grabbing the nearby stack of sticky notes and a pen in case you need to take a message.
"Hey y/n," you hear Jeonghan say softly through the line.
"Hannie!" you say, surprised but excited to be hearing his voice. "How's it going? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!"
"I know, I've been so busy," he concurs. "I'm tired as hell, but I'm okay. How are you?"
"Same, I'm exhausted but I'm getting by. How's the DJ life treating you?"
"It's good!" he answers eagerly. "I mean, that's why I'm so tired. But in a way it also kinda gives me an energy boost. I know that probably sounds crazy…"
"Not at all," you smile. "That means you really like it! I'm so glad it ended up being a great fit for you."
"Me too," he agrees. "I've been so happy lately. Except for the fact that we haven't hung out like, at all. That part sucks."
"We gotta find some time to hang," you say assertively.
"Actually, that's why I'm calling," he replies. "The Comms Department is having this social thing on Friday night. I wasn't really planning to go, but guests are allowed if you'd wanna come with me. There's gonna be free food."
"Hell yeah, I'm always down for free food," you grin — though, you're much more excited about getting to see Jeonghan finally.
"Cool! It starts at 7, I'll drop by your place around then and we can walk to campus together."
"Sounds good," you say excitedly. "Is this like, a formal event?"
"Um, I don't think so? But like, maybe a little?"
"I'll dress up at least a little, then," you tell him. "I'd rather be overdressed than underdressed."
"Good idea, I'll do the same. Well, I gotta head to work in a few minutes, so I gotta go."
"Have a good shift!" you tell him. "See ya on Friday."
"See ya then, y/n."
Friday afternoon you start rummaging through your closet, looking for something to wear to the social later. You have a few hours until you need to be ready, but you figured you'd give yourself a little extra time to make yourself look at least a little bit nice. It's been a while since you've had an excuse to dress up anyway, so what the hell, why not.
Nothing is particularly catching your eye as you flip through the hangers, until you get to the end and spot a brand new skirt you had completely forgotten about. You pull it out to look at it; it's a black pinstripe pleated mini skirt, brandishing a built-in belt, and it still has the tags on. A bit on the casual side, but you figure if you pair it with a nice sweater and tights that don't have any holes in them the outfit will look just the right amount of sophisticated for the occasion.
Digging through your dresser drawer, you take a look at your sweaters. Most are a bit too tattered, and about half of them are just sweatshirts featuring a band logo, but you do find a deep maroon sweater that you rarely wear. You lay it on your bed above the skirt and grab a pair of tights to lay out as well; all put together, it actually looks pretty nice.
You throw your outfit on and spend a little bit longer than usual putting makeup on, adding some shimmery eyeshadow and some tinted lip gloss to your usual routine of eyeliner and mascara. When you're done styling your hair, you take a look at yourself in the mirror. It's not that you usually look bad, but you definitely tend to dress more on the casual side, so you're pleasantly surprised by how put-together you look right now. Turns out, a little extra effort can go a long way.
You're reading your book a couple hours later when you hear a light knocking at your door. Hopping up off the couch you flutter over to answer it, opening the door to reveal Jeonghan looking the fanciest you've ever seen him. He's still in his leather jacket, of course — but underneath he wears a maroon button-down shirt and crisp black dress pants, and you've never seen his long hair so neat and styled.
"Holy shit, since when do you own dress pants?" you ask with a playful smirk.
"Hey, shut up," he pouts. "I know they look stupid."
"They do not!" you insist. "You look really nice, Jeonghan. I've just never seen you so dressed up. And we even matched on accident!" you chuckle.
"Looks like we did," he smiles. "You look really nice as well," he says, staring at your outfit for a moment but quickly averting his gaze. You typically wear clothes that are at least a little bit baggy, but this sweater fits you snugly, its thin knit fabric accentuating your every curve very flatteringly. Jeonghan tries not to think about it.
"Thanks! Here, let me put my shoes on and then we can bounce."
He steps inside as you grab your Doc Martens, leaning down to slip your feet into them and tighten the laces. Your back is to him as you bend over, and while your skirt isn't super short it does ride up a bit in the process, your thighs on full display through the sheer black tights. He ogles you as you tie the boots up, feeling his face grow hot. He knows you don't notice, but he forces himself to turn away before you do, prying his eyes off of you, but it's too late.
"Um, I'm gonna go pee real quick," he tells you, scurrying off to your bathroom.
"Okie dokie," you reply.
Jeonghan doesn't actually have to pee, but he locks himself in the bathroom anyway. He stares at himself in the mirror, still thrown off by how different he looks all cleaned up.
"Get it together man," he grumbles to himself.
A couple minutes later he returns.
"Ready?" you ask, grabbing your coat.
"Yep!" he says with a smile.
The walk to campus is cold, but there's no wind, so it's surprisingly pleasant. On your way there it begins to snow, huge flakes falling gently through the air and starting to accumulate on the ground. You arrive to the Comms Building, brushing the snow off your jacket before you step through its doors to the warm interior.
"You've got some in your hair, too," Jeonghan points out. You ruffle your hair lightly, shaking the snow off.
"So do you," you tell him, reaching up and brushing your fingers across his hair, brushing the stark white snow out of his long, dark locks. Jeonghan freezes up slightly, grateful that his cheeks are already pink from the cold so you can't see him blushing like an idiot.
"Thanks," he says softly.
You make your way to the end of the hall, where two doors propped open lead you into the event space. Immediately you see that despite your efforts, you are both still noticeably underdressed.
"Welp," he mumbles to you quietly. "Guess I didn't get the memo that this was actually fancy."
"It's okay," you reply reassuringly. "We still look nice." And it's true, but amongst all the suits and heels you still feel a bit out of place.
You make your way over to the food table together, grabbing plates and piling them high with the assortment of hors d'oeuvres on display. It earns you a few judgmental glares from a group of older adults standing nearby, but you're both broke college kids, so you don't really give a fuck.
"Let's go over there," Jeonghan says after you each grab a glass of wine, nudging his head toward the back of the room. You meander through the groups of professors and whomever else standing around and chatting, claiming the two chairs in the corner.
"So, what exactly is this event supposed to be again?" you ask him as you pop a fancy cracker with cheese on it into your mouth.
"Um, I don't actually know," he admits as he sips at wine, glancing around the room. "I thought it was for students and professors to meet each other, but I don't think any of these people are actually students…"
You look around too, and he seems to be right. Everyone is significantly older and distinguished-looking — very clearly not undergraduates.
"Oops," you say, trying not to smile too big. "Does that mean we just walked in here and stole their food?"
A grin starts to spread across his face. "Um, yeah. Looks like it."
He starts to giggle out loud, prompting you to subtly whack him in the leg.
"Shhh, people are gonna notice!" you whisper, but you feel the urge to start laughing too. A voice rings out over the speaker system as somebody starts talking into a microphone. The attendees all turn and face the small stage, where a woman in a sequined navy dress starts to speak.
"Should we go?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah, definitely," you reply, tossing back the rest of your wine. "But let's grab some more food on the way out."
Jeonghan grins. "I like the way you think."
After piling the small plastic plates with as much food as you possibly can and grabbing another glass of wine each, you sneak out the back door of the room, quickly making your way towards the building's exit.
"Holy shit," Jeonghan laughs as you burst through the door returning you to the quad. "That was awesome."
"I love to steal free food," you giggle. The falling snow has picked up, blustering around calmly but shrouding everything in a sea of white. "C'mon," you say to him, zipping off toward your usual spot under the small oak tree. "Let's go over here."
You stand together beneath the branches, accepting their humble offering of any sort of cover as you scarf down the rest of the food on your plates.
"I guess we also technically stole these wine glasses," Jeonghan comments as he stares at the remaining red liquid in the bowl. "I didn't even realize they were real."
"Me neither," you say, finishing your drink. "Whoops."
Hors d'oeuvres and wine now gone, you toss the plates in a nearby trashcan, leaving the glasses sitting on the steps to the Comms Building and zooming off before somebody catches you. When you get off campus you slow your pace, strolling casually down the block through the deluge of snow.
"Maybe I should've driven," Jeonghan chuckles. "But also who wants to drive in this weather."
"True," you smile. "But I don't mind the snow. It's nice."
"Me neither."
You chat the whole walk home, taking and laughing about anything and everything and nothing at all. By the time you make it to your building, your cheeks hurt — not only from the cold but from smiling nonstop the whole night.
"Tonight was really fun — even if it wasn't what we expected," you say, turning to face Jeonghan.
"Same here," he smiles softly. "I'm glad I finally got to see you."
"Me too," you beam back. You're thinking about inviting him up, maybe to smoke a J or something, when suddenly his lips are on yours.
Your whole body freezes. His lips are soft, the kiss is sweet, but you were not prepared for it. Quickly he pulls his face back, his eyes widening with fear like a deer in the headlights.
"Sorry," he stammers, then takes off.
"Wait!" you call out after him. "Jeonghan!" But he's gone in the blink of an eye, running off down the street into the snowy night.
[EIGHT]
Almost an entire week passes, and you don't see or hear from Jeonghan once.
You tried calling him, but you just kept getting Jun, who seemed to be confused but didn't ask any questions. You tried to meet him after several of his classes, but he either wasn't there or managed to completely evade you. You even tried e-mailing him, but as you expected, no response.
So you gave up for the time being. You knew he wasn't going to avoid you forever, that eventually he would come back. But damn, you hated waiting for it.
It's now Thursday night. Six nights have gone by, and still radio silence from Jeonghan. You're not even upset with him, you just want to talk to him. There's too many questions swimming around in your brain right now — you can hardly think about anything else.
Why did you kiss me?
Why did you run away?
Why have you been so scared to talk to me?
Do you love me?
The living room boom box softly plays the local classic rock channel as you lay at the couch, staring at the ceiling and thinking too much. For reasons you can't explain, you suddenly get up and go change the tuner to 90.5. You lay back down, unsure what exactly the point of that was, but also you don't really care. You're not even sure if Jeonghan is working tonight, and even if he is it's too early for him to be on — but the radio station is enough to remind you of him. You feel tears begin to well in your eyes, blinking them away quickly.
The DJ eventually comes back on the air; as expected, it's not Jeonghan, but that doesn't make you any less sad about the whole situation. The next song that comes on sounds vaguely familiar, and awful; it occurs to you about two minutes into the song that this sounds like that terrible band you saw at that bar — Fuckwagon or whatever. The one you saw with Jeonghan.
Tears begin to stream down your cheeks. Unable to shut them down, you just let them flow, softly sobbing into the couch.
This is so fucking stupid, you tell yourself. I'm crying to a Fuckwagon song right now. You let out a laugh through your tears, in disbelief of how utterly stupid this scenario is. After crying for a few more minutes, you eventually calm back down. Your mind is a bit clearer now, and you come to the realization that there's nothing stopping you from marching over there right this instant and putting an end to this nonsense.
Fifteen minutes later, you're standing outside Jeonghan's apartment. All that's left is to knock, but now that you're here that part feels daunting. You take a deep breath, slowly raising your hand to the door, then you knock. It comes out a bit more aggressive than you meant it, but you hope that means he'll hear you right away. You hear footsteps trodding toward the door, and then it opens.
"Oh, hi y/n," Jun greets you. He looks frazzled, like you just woke him from a thousand-year slumber.
"Hey, Jun. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," you tell him apologetically.
"Oh, I wasn't asleep," he replies nonchalantly. You're about to ask him what the hell he was doing then, but you decide some questions don't need to be answered. Besides, that's not why you're here.
"Is Jeonghan here?" you cut to the chase. "I was hoping to talk to him."
"Sorry, no," he shakes his head. "You just missed him — he left for work about ten minutes ago."
"Dammit," you mutter.
"Has he still not talked to you since he kissed you?"
You look up at Jun, a perplexed expression coloring your face. "You know about that?"
"Yes," he replies matter-of-factly. "He came home right after that and was freaking out about it. He wasn't exactly very coherent, but through his ramblings I got the general picture."
"Did he say why he was freaking out?" you try.
"He was scared that it was a mistake, that he fucked it all up."
"Fucked what all up?" you ask, furrowing your brow. "Our friendship?"
Jun lets out a gentle sigh. "So you didn't know, then," he says softly. "Jeonghan is in love with you, y/n. Has been since the day he met you."
You make it to campus in record time, speed-walking as fast as you can, zooming across the quad directly toward the Comms Building. You're out of breath as you enter, groaning as you spot the three flights of stairs you now have to climb. But you move quickly anyway, your body seemingly unable to slow down for anything.
This time you don't even bother knocking on the red door. You fling it open, expected to have to come up with some sort of explanation on the fly with his boss, but you are greeted by an empty office. The door slowly closes behind you as you walk over to the booth window. Peering in, sure enough you can see the top of his head as he sits at the broadcast mixer. The ON AIR sign above you is lit; you wait for the red light to shut off, then you knock on the booth door. Jeonghan turns around slowly, looking confused, but then he sees you standing outside the window. His eyes widen, and he leaps out out of his chair, bolting to the door and swinging it open.
"What are you doing here??" he asks, looking genuinely surprised.
"I don't want to get you in trouble, but we have to talk."
"Nobody else is here tonight," he replies. "Here, come inside."
He shuts the door behind you as you enter, but as soon as he does you grab him by the arm and spin him around to face you.
"What the—"
"Why did you run away?"
"I—" He pauses for a moment. "That's… not what I thought you were going to ask," he admits.
"What? Why?"
"Well, I just thought you were going to ask me why I kissed you first."
"Okay," you reply. "Then why did you kiss me?"
Jeonghan sighs, dropping his head slightly; but a moment later he lifts it again, looking you directly in the eyes.
"I kissed you because I love you, y/n. I ran away because I was scared you didn't love me back, and I wasn't prepared to face that reality."
His gaze is locked onto yours so intensely that you feel like you might burst into flames. He looks like he's experiencing every emotion at once, anxiously waiting for you to say something, anything. But you don't know what to say, so you do what only feels right — you throw your arms around him, pulling him into your embrace.
He gasps softly as you squeeze him tight, burying your face into his chest; you can feel the accelerating pace of his heart, thumping against your cheek. He instinctively wraps his arms around you, leaning his head on top of yours.
"I love you too," you say softly. "I didn't realize it for a while — but it's so obvious to me now."
He kisses the top of your head, rubbing your back as you nuzzle your face deeper into his sweater.
"That's the best news I've ever heard."
You could stay here in his embrace indefinitely, but eventually you lift your head, looking deeply into his eyes.
"Kiss me — but for real this time."
Slowly, Jeonghan grabs your face with both hands, eyeing you hungrily before pulling you into a kiss. This time it's slow, sweet; you slip your hands around his waist, clinging to him as you savor it. Your heart pounds in your chest as your lips tug at each other, refusing to let go, pressing your body into his and pushing him up against the door. A soft, involuntarily moan emanates from his throat, and you feel the stiff, growing bulge in his pants against your stomach.
Eventually your lips part, lingering near each other as he presses his forehead into yours.
"Holy shit," he mutters. "I can't believe this is really happening."
He drops his hands from their grasp on your head, unzipping your coat and taking it off of you; tossing it on a nearby desk, he hurriedly slips his hands around your waist, kneading at the soft flesh and holding your body tightly against him. He feels slightly embarrassed by how quickly he got a full-fledged boner, but he's too aroused to care — besides, judging by the burning desire in your eyes, you're feeling the exact same thing right now.
"You're perfect," he tells you, cracking a smile and blushing as the words leave his lips. You grin back, giving him another soft kiss before taking hold of his hands.
"C'mere," you say to him, dragging him over to the sound mixer.
"What are you—oh." You cut him off by giving him a slight push, sitting him down into the thick, sturdy chair. You straddle his lap, pressing your core against his bulge, rubbing yourself against it through both of your jeans.
"Fuck," Jeonghan gasps as your weight presses against his cock; you lean your head down to kiss him again, locking lips as you start to make out, mouths crashing and tongues eagerly dancing against each other. Eventually you begin to sway your hips, unable to contain your excitement. You gasp as your mouths part, tossing your head back as you grind against him harder; his arms around you squeeze tighter, pulling you in as close as physically possible. His face presses against your tits as he rubs his hands over your ass, guiding you as you rock back and forth on top of him.
"Oh my god…" he sighs. He tosses his head back, and you swoop in, kissing the delicate flesh of his neck, making him let out the most pathetic-sounding groan. You moan as you grind your heat against him, getting the both of you off at once.
"F-fuck, that's so hot," his voice wavers.
"If I keep doing this it's gonna make me cum," you tell him, starting to sound whiny and frantic.
"Oh my god, please do."
You increase your pace, pressing your aching clit against his clothed cock. It feels incredible — you simply can't help the soft little cries escaping your lips.
"Can I…" Jeonghan asks, tugging at the button of your jeans.
"Please," you say breathily as you eagerly nod your head. He unfastens the button, tugging down your zipper and opening your pants enough for him to slip his fingers beneath your underwear. You let out a whimper as his fingertips dip into your folds, his lips parting lustfully as he discovers the absolute pool of wetness in your panties right now.
"Fuck," you whine, rubbing your clit against his fingers with fervor. A burning fire builds in your gut, your whole body tensing in anticipation of your release. It washes over you in bursting waves, your body trembling atop Jeonghan as you ride out your orgasm. As your movement slows, you catch your breath, lifting your head to kiss him on the lips. As you open your eyes you get a glimpse at him, you find him looking utterly desperate, and ready to bust at any given moment. You let out a giggle, still in a daze from your high; but you slip off the chair, kneeling down before him between his legs.
"Oh my god, you're gonna kill me," he half-laughs, half-whines. He raises his drenched fingers to his mouth, lapping your juices up feverously, eyes rolling back as he savors the taste of you. You slowly unbuckle the studded leather belt around his waist, unbuttoning his jeans painfully slowly; he wriggles in his seat, silently pleading for you to take his cock out, for you to put your mouth over it…
Finally, you do — reaching into his boxers, you tug them down, wrapping your hand around his hard, thick cock and pulling it out.
"Holy shit," you blurt out, glancing up at him and giving him a giddy smile. "You've been packing this the whole time?!"
He bursts out laughing, cradling your cheek in his hand, slowly guiding your lips to his cock. You lightly circle the tip with your tongue, teasing him; he lets out a sigh, licking his lips as he watches you taste his cock. Slowly you take the head between your lips, suckling it lightly before you start to slide your mouth down his length. You're not even halfway down when it reaches the back of your mouth; you push down further, taking him in your throat, gagging audibly on his size.
"Ohhh, wow," he mumbles as his eyelids flutter back. "That's so good…"
His hips gently push upward as you bob your head up and down, feeding you more of his length as you slide it in and out of your mouth. Your noises escalate, pathetic whining growing louder as you start to increase your pace. He can't help himself — he starts to fuck his cock into your mouth, sliding deep into your throat. Tears well in your eyes, but you continue to stare up at him; the sight is enough to send him over the edge.
"Baby, 'm gonna cum," he groans. A few thrusts later, you feel ropes of hot cum shooting down your throat, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he releases. Soft whimpers escape his trembling lips as he cums hard in your mouth, relishing every moment of the delicious sensation. He strokes your head gently as he finishes; you swallow all his cum, slowly dragging your lips off his spent cock.
"Fuck," he sighs, melting into the chair. Opening his eyes, he looks down at you sweetly, his head still spinning from the orgasm. "Thank you."
"For sucking your dick?" you ask, starting to giggle.
"Yeah," he says with a stupid grin. "That was awesome."
He helps to you your feet, tucking his cock back inside his pants and zipping them up again. He pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you again.
"Sorry I kissed you and ran away like an idiot," he tells you, holding you snugly against him. "That was really stupid and embarrassing."
"You're not an idiot," you reply, playfully thumping him in the chest. "I like you just the way you are."
Jeonghan smiles. In the few years you've known him, you've never seen him radiating with genuine happiness like this — you decide it looks great on him.
[EPILOGUE]
You gasp for air as your head falls back into the pillows, chest heaving in the aftermath of your orgasm. Jeonghan remains parked between your legs, lazily lapping at your soaked pussy — his new favorite place to be.
"Fuck," you sigh, dragging your fingers through his hair. "That was so good."
He lifts his head, his mouth and chin glistening with your juices.
"Good," he replies, grinning at you proudly.
"Kiss me," you plead softly; he crawls up the bed to greet your lips with his, planting a deep kiss onto your mouth. A sudden knocking at your bedroom door makes the both of you jump.
"Hey lovebirds," Mina calls out through the door. "Your take-out just got here. I already paid for it, so you owe me $20."
"It was only $15!" you shout back.
"Service fee. For me," she responds cheekily, already walking away. You roll your eyes, laughing it off. Jeonghan starts kissing your cheeks, pecking gently as the soft skin.
"Hey, that tickles!" you giggle.
"But you look so pretty when you laugh," he replies, continuing to kiss you.
"You're ridiculous."
"I just love you, that's all."
He lifts his head, smiling at you sweetly.
"I love you too," you reply, beaming back at him. "We should go get our food before it gets cold—" you say, starting to try and sit up, but Jeonghan holds you pinned against the bed.
"Hey!" you protest, but he's already sliding back down the bed.
"You have a microwave," he says matter-of-factly, taking hold of your thighs as he positions his face right in front of your dripping core again.
"Besides, I'm not done here yet…"
thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed this fic, don't forget to REBLOG and COMMENT — your feedback is greatly valued ♡
summary ⇾ to you, one of jeonghan's most admirable trait is his candid nature. he's straightforward with most people—if he's angry, they'll definitely know. but with you? he'd rather swim the ocean day and night than take his anger out on you. well, that is, of course, unless you ask him to.
PAIRING // yoon jeonghan x fem!reader
GENRE // explicit smut, established relationship, some fluff, mostly smut, sub!reader, jeonghan tries to be angry hard!dom but is actually a soft!dom cause he's too in love with mc, not much plot tbh mostly just smut
WARNING // 18+, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex and fingering (f receiving), degradation, choking, hair pulling, some spanking, creampie, slight dacryphilia, orgasm denial(?) ig, mentions of mc's past relationship with ex!seungcheol
WORD COUNT // 8.6k
AUTHOR’S NOTE // me casually coming back on here and posting after almost 2 years of radio silence (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡ btw this is my very first svt fic hehe i started liking them like a month ago? watching going svt is the only thing keeping me sane during my second year of uni :') i love jeonghan and all his manipulating mind games & cheating ways, it's the most attractive thing to me !! might drop a wonwoo fic soon too bcs he's a cutie and his wip is coming along nicely. hope u guys have been doing good hehe do like and reblog if u enjoy reading this, song rec is blue foundation - eyes on fire (skeler remix)
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Jeonghan isn't a particularly placid man. He's not excessively ill-tempered per se, but he is remarkably patient when it comes to you. You know how he is when he's angry, and you can't recall a single time when you've been on the receiving end of his wrath.
When something ticks him off, his eyes will darken and the heated stare he gives is shrouded beneath his lashes. When he is truly livid, he'll usually walk away from the situation, and there'll be no room for anyone to say something they'll end up regretting later on.
It's incredible, really, that he possesses the ability to bottle his anger up when it involves you. Anger is an emotion that can rarely be suppressed, but Jeonghan does it with remarkable ease.
On any other day, perhaps you'd appreciate his effort to control his anger, but not tonight. You've made a serious mistake, one that goes against the one thing Jeonghan had explicitly stated from the start of your relationship—keeping secrets is a recipe for a failed relationship, so if you have something important to say, just say it. Jeonghan is a great boyfriend. He gives you the freedom and privacy to do things you want to do, but this particular boundary was crystal clear, and you just crossed it.
It was your fault, really. You had broken up with Choi Seungcheol only a year prior to dating Jeonghan. The break-up had been a mutual agreement, and there were no hard feelings involved. Over time, you gradually drifted apart and had minimal to no contact until... well, two weeks ago.
It had been at a dinner party hosted by one of your acquaintances, someone who just happened to be Seungcheol's cousin. Jeonghan hadn't been able to accompany you, so you hadn't been able to introduce him to Seungcheol. Meeting Seungcheol again after more than a year hadn't been awkward. It was like meeting up with an old friend.
Tonight, however, the universe seems like it's conspiring against you. You had been preparing dinner when you heard a notification chime on your phone. You had haphazardly tossed your phone onto the living room couch before cooking, and your boyfriend just happened to be doing his Lego in the living room, so you called out to him to check the notification.
There was shuffling in the living room as he stood. When he strolled into the kitchen, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he held your phone in one hand, eyes fixed on the screen. "Who's Choi Seungcheol and why is he asking to catch up over lunch?"
Fuck.
To be fair, you really weren't expecting Seungcheol to contact you after the dinner party. You had gone without contacting each other for more than a year, so what changed now? You had told him that you found someone new, so he definitely knew there was no possibility of rekindling your relationship. He was most likely trying to be friendly, but you understand why it would seem questionable to Jeonghan.
Contrary to what you expected, Jeonghan hadn't gotten angry at you. He simply listened to your explanation and nodded. He became quiet, a glazed look in his eyes that you couldn't interpret. Then, he sets your phone down on the kitchen counter and hummed. Oh, he was annoyed, that much was obvious.
"Okay, well, I trust you. Just... don't do it again," Jeonghan spoke with a slight frown, then walked out of the kitchen as though you hadn't just violated the one, single rule that you had both agreed to abide by.
Perhaps you've gone stupid, because as your boyfriend walked out of the kitchen, you found yourself trailing close behind him. A tinge of irritation slowly bubbled up in your chest as you watched him casually plop down onto the floor to continue doing the Lego set he had been doing since earlier.
"Is that it?" you asked him.
Jeonghan momentarily diverted his attention from his Lego to meet your gaze. He blinked a few times. "I'm sorry?"
"You just... you're not even getting angry at me?"
"Um, am I supposed to be angry at you?"
You were taken aback by his response because it suddenly occurred to you just how silly you sounded. Did you really want him to get angry at you?
"Yes?"
Jeonghan nodded wordlessly, seemingly mulling over something in his head.
"I made a mistake, you should be mad at me."
There was a pregnant pause before he chuckled, but there was nothing humorous about it. If anything, it sounded a little... sinister. "You want me to get mad at you, baby? Want me to show you how I'm really feeling?"
You swallowed. Suddenly, you felt small under the weight of his unyielding stare. You shouldn't have nodded, shouldn't have ever said anything about it at all, because now, Jeonghan has you on the bed, doing the one thing you had practically begged him to do—take his anger out on you.
"G-God, please..." You're not sure what it is you're begging for. It's hard to think straight when Jeonghan is between your legs, lapping at your dripping cunt with his tongue. He had warned you not to touch him, but after several attempts of burying your fingers into his silky hair, he decided to take matters into his own hand, grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them to your heaving chest.
Your fingers continuously curl and uncurl against your chest, desperately trying to grab at something to ground yourself. The pleasure coursing through you makes your head spin, your mouth feeling as dry as cotton as you continue to chant your boyfriend's name.
Jeonghan hums against you, mouth suckling at your swollen bundle of nerves. Your jaw drops open at the feeling, eyes screwing shut as you let a moan slip past your lips. He repeats the cycle a few more times—kissing, sucking, licking—until you feel the familiar knot tightening in your stomach.
To your disappointment, Jeonghan withdraws his mouth from you but is quick to replace it with his fingers. He's familiar with your body by now, knowing what gives you the most pleasure and which spots to press to have you coming undone in minutes.
He's rubbing tight circles into your clit with his thumb, middle and ring fingers ghosting over your hole, not dipping in, only lingering there to serve as a reminder of the control he has over you. "Keep your hands there," he says, squeezing at your wrists once as a warning. Then he lets go of your hands and settles his palm on the inside of your thigh, spreading you open further.
"Jeonghan..." you whimper, legs beginning to shake as the telltale sign of your climax begins to show.
"I need you to cum on my fingers once before you can have my cock," he says, voice coming out huskier than normal.
Straining your neck, you peer down at your boyfriend with half-lidded eyes, only to feel a rush of heat in your stomach when you see that he's already looking at you. In the dim light of your bedside lamp, you can just make out his blown-out pupils, almost obscured beneath the strands of dark hair falling over his forehead. His lips curl up into a wicked smirk, and your focus shifts from his eyes to the way his mouth glistens with your wetness. It feels so shameful, but the sight only makes you drip even more.
"My angel wants me to be angry at her, right?" he asks you, pressing down harder on your clit, which makes you yelp with surprise, head dropping back onto your pillow.
"Don't stop, please, I'm cumming... F-Fuck!" It's all you manage to say as you begin to writhe under Jeonghan's hold.
He clicks his teeth in disapproval when you shift your hands from your chest to your sides, fingers tightly grabbing at the bedsheet, twisting at it recklessly. He lets it slide, however, knowing you're trying your best not to touch him like he knows you so desperately want to.
His ring finger dips into your hole just slightly, and the stretch isn't much, but it makes you keen anyway, breath catching in your throat as he plunges it deeper and deeper until it reaches his knuckle. He doesn't move it after that, keeping it buried there as he continues to play with your clit.
"I've barely even started and you're already like this," he says in a mocking tone, teasingly biting down at your plush thigh. "Go ahead and cum for me, then. Show me how much you want my cock, baby..."
Your body caves to his words. The knot in your stomach snaps, and you cum with a loud moan that you don't even attempt to hide. Without warning, Jeonghan promptly replaces his thumb on your clit with his mouth, sucking hard, prolonging the pleasure. He doesn't mind the way your whole body is trembling or the way your thighs try to snap shut.
"H-Hannie, fuck... fuck..."
The way you're mumbling out incoherent words only makes the blood rush down to his cock. He's painfully hard in his pants, wanting nothing more than to sink himself right into your tight pussy. It's getting increasingly difficult to think with his head than his dick. His self-restraint is starting to fray at the edge.
"That's it, baby..." he mumbles, removing his ring finger from inside you, grinning when your hole tries to suck the digit back in.
With his index and middle finger, Jeonghan spreads your pussy lips apart, ignoring your whine of protest as he continues to stare at your soaked cunt. It's humiliating to be so exposed and vulnerable like this, but why do you enjoy it so much?
Jeonghan snickers, warm breath hitting your bare pussy. "Baby, I wish you could see yourself right now. Your cute pussy is clenching around nothing."
With a sheepish whine, you splay your hands over your face, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Hannie..." you grumble, hoping he would show you some compassion and stop teasing. But of course, Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't just stop there. You should know better by now that there is no one in the world more cunning and sly than your boyfriend.
Jeonghan pushes himself up into a sitting position, sighing when he sees the way you've covered your face. He doesn't like it when you hide from him but surprisingly doesn't say anything about it.
When you feel him shift on the bed, your curiosity gets the best of you. Peering cautiously through the gaps of your fingers, you're left dumbfounded at the sight of your boyfriend tugging his shirt over his head. The wisps of his dark hair that had been snagged by the shirt are left askew, and the view would be endearing if it wasn't for the devious look in his eyes as he looks at you.
Then he stands, and for a second, you're afraid he might leave you there. It wouldn't be unlike Jeonghan to suddenly leave. He's unpredictable, always trying to be a step ahead of everyone. This time, however, all he does is stand by the end of the bed, eyes roaming over your exposed figure as if trying to determine the next course of action that will deliver the most favourable outcome for him. Damn him and his mind games.
With slow movement, you press your legs together, concealing your most intimate part from your boyfriend. He shakes his head in disapproval, but you make no move to rectify your mistake. It's impossible not to hide from him when he's looking down at you as though he wants to devour you inch by inch—like a lion ogling at a wounded deer.
Very slowly, he begins to undo the string of his sweatpants. It aggravates you to see how composed he is, movements unhurried as if he doesn't see just how much you need him. Surely he notices how your eyes rove over his bare torso, committing to memory every little detail about his body even if you've seen it myriad times before. He's not particularly muscular; he's more lean than anything, elegant, and refined in all the right places. It only makes the waiting feel even more agonising.
"Don't tease, Hannie, please," you plead, your pulse quickening when he finally steps out of his pants.
"Don't tease? Aw, princess, you were the one getting all friendly with your ex, and now you want me to treat you like a good girl who hasn't been whoring around behind my back?" His tone is condescending, sending a surge of electricity up your spine.
You're suddenly reminded of what landed you in the current predicament in the first place. You want to explain and justify yourself, but you're rendered speechless when Jeonghan sweeps a hand down over his torso, eventually wrapping around his hard cock. He tugs once, twice, hissing slightly at the much-needed contact, smearing pre-cum all over the tip and shaft, the ring on his pinky glinting in the low light.
Sitting upright, you're about to speak and deny his previous statement, but the words die down in your throat when he suddenly climbs onto the bed, slowly crawling closer to you.
You squeak in surprise when he grabs at one of your legs, tugging you down just slightly so that your face is parallel to his. Then, he settles himself between your legs, cock pressed against your stomach. He has you right where he wants you.
Jeonghan captures your lips in a kiss, wasting no time to slip his tongue into your mouth, tangling it with yours. You sigh into his mouth, tasting the remnants of your wetness on his tongue and lips. It's a pleasant mix of bitter and sweet, a combination that makes you feel dazed despite the fact that he hasn't done anything to you yet.
Jeonghan sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, relishing the way you mewl. He starts pressing wet kisses onto your jaw, trailing down to your neck and collarbone. "You smell so good, pretty," he mumbles against your skin, licking at your sternum.
Reaching a hand down, you grab at his hard cock, wanting nothing more than for him to slip himself inside. You're sure you're dripping down onto the bedsheet by now. Jeonghan, however, has other plans. You only get to pump him twice before he slaps your hand away, pinning your wrist to the bed. "Don't act like such an impatient whore..."
Your whine of protest trails out into a moan when Jeonghan suddenly wraps his mouth around your nipple. His mouth is hot against the sensitive bud, and the light grazes of his teeth against it makes you arch your back.
Jeonghan's eyes suddenly meet yours, hooded with lust. He's suckling so noisily, hips grinding into yours. It's so obscene—the way he's looking at you, the sounds he's making, the way his balls press down on your clit whenever he grinds into you. Feeling overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensory, you turn your head to the side, burying your face into your pillow as you huff out a shaky breath.
You should've known Jeonghan wouldn't be too pleased with this. He withdraws his mouth from your chest with a lewd pop. His hand leaves your wrist in favour of grabbing at your chin. His grip is harsh, but not enough to hurt. With a sharp yank, he forces you to face forward, where you have no other choice than to meet his eyes.
He clicks his tongue disappointedly, and your eyes flick down to his lips, red and puffy from sucking. This doesn't help your case at all, because Jeonghan immediately starts vigorously shaking your face left and right, compelling you to look back into his eyes. Your head feels dizzy, but you don't miss the look in his eyes. There's irritation swirling in them now, imbued with desire and the hunger to ravage your body until you're left a broken, muddled mess. It makes you shudder, legs squeezing tight on each side of his hips.
"You know better than to hide from me, right?" His thumb caresses the skin of your jaw. The touch is so soft, a stark contrast to the way he's glaring down at you. When you take a little too long to answer, Jeonghan taps at your cheek a few times, hard enough for you to feel the sting.
"Y-Yes..."
He coos, stroking your stinging cheek. "Mhm, but you're not behaving very well tonight, are you?"
"I've been good, Hannie," you assert, trying to maintain your composed front even though you desperately need him to fill you to the brim. You're aching, and you need his cock to soothe the pain. Noticing his sceptical gaze, you decide to reword your sentence. "I'm sorry. I'll be good, I promise."
Jeonghan is thinking about something, silently plotting something in his head. Fuck, you're screwed now. The intensity of his gaze tells you he's about to do something that's unlikely to be in your favour.
"You want to hide from me that bad, hm?"
You're quick to shake your head. "No, Hannie, I want you to see me."
Jeonghan scowls, pecking your lips once before sitting up on his knees. "On your stomach."
You frown, dread washing over you. He knows how much you loathe that position. "Jeonghan, please, no..."
Jeonghan's face remains impassive. "I won't ask you twice."
"You know I take a long time to cum when I can't see your face," you grumble, feeling your stomach churn, chest tightening.
"Who said you were cumming tonight?"
The question sends you into a frenzy. "Please, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please, please..."
When Jeonghan has his mind set on something, no amount of begging or grovelling will sway him. He's glowering at you, and three seconds pass before you relent. Having his cock inside you is better than nothing at all.
"There you go, baby," he says when you finally shift onto your stomach. He's quick to straddle your thighs. "Wasn't so hard, was it?"
You say nothing, feeling sulky now that you can't look at your boyfriend's pretty face anymore. "Angh!" you yelp when you feel a spank on your ass. Jeonghan does it a few more times, rubbing the tender skin between each hit. The touch should be soothing, but it only makes your ass burn even more, raw from his smacking.
Gritting your teeth from the tantalizing sting, you bite back an apology, knowing it's probably the last thing Jeonghan wants from you. Saying sorry would only make it worst for you. He's testing you, pushing the boundaries to see how much you can endure before you break and plead for some semblance of his kindness. The longer you hold out, the better.
You feel him dip his head down, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale to breathe in your smell. The fragrance of your perfume and natural scent is exhilarating. He wants to stay there and breathe you in all day, fill his lungs with your sweet scent so that he can still smell you even when you're miles away from him.
A groan rumbles in his chest, you can feel it on your upper back, can hear it right beside your ear. He starts pressing kisses down your shoulder blade, digging his teeth into the smooth flesh.
"Keep your head down," he warns you, as though he knows about your urge to turn and look at him. He sits up, his knees on each side of your legs, willowy fingers kneading your hips.
You whine into your pillow, eyes brimming with frustrated tears. Your whole body is trembling, yearning to see him, touch him, tug on the silken strands of his dark hair. God, just the thought of it has slick gushing out of your throbbing hole.
"I'll be good," you promise him, voice coming out breathy, desperation bleeding through. "Just, please..." you beg, quietly moaning when you feel Jeonghan's hands on your inner thighs, spreading your legs just enough for him to comfortably press the tip of his leaking cock onto your cunt.
You hear him chuckle when your whole body stiffens, anticipating the moment when he'll finally fuck you full. He sighs to himself, looking at the way your pussy is all coated in your wetness, slick gushing out onto his cockhead as he brushes it over your clit.
"Hmm, but you only behave after you're caught doing something bad, isn't that right?"
You don't answer, unsure whether you should defend yourself or agree with his question. You gasp when you feel him slide in just slightly, stretching you out, tip prodding at your gummy walls just enough to make you feel the agonizing stretch. "More, Hannie," you mutter, practically drooling at the prospect that it would only take a roll of his hips for him to fill you up.
However, the delicious stretch never comes, and you're left there feeling stupid, panting with only his tip buried inside of you. You whine once, lifting your head to look back at him. Big mistake. You've barely craned your neck before you feel his hand pushing down onto the crown of your head, fingers yanking at your mussed-up hair, shoving the side of your face back into the pillow.
With a growl, Jeonghan leans down to press his lips against your ear. "What's with you today, princess? You've always been such a good girl for me, but you keep pushing my fucking buttons today. You want me angry, hm? Is that what you want?"
His crude words shouldn't make you feel the way you do, but when he speaks, his hot breath against your ear makes your eyes roll back, pussy clenching around the tip of his cock, desperate to suck more of him in. You respond with a quiet apology, voice quivering from the arousal wracking through your body. You crave him, ache for him like a desert thirsts for rain. "Need you..."
Then, as if he senses your distress, he decides to show you some mercy. Little by little, he slides into you, slipping in easily, aided by the wetness seeping out of your pulsating hole. He ignores the way you call out his name with a shattered gasp, slowly pressing forward until his hips are flush against your ass and his cock is snug in your heat, buried to the hilt.
You can feel Jeonghan's groan rumbling in his chest, and the noise makes your pussy clamp down on him tighter. You're fisting at the bedsheet, feeling relieved, desperate, and frantic all at the same time. God, why isn't he moving? You want him to fuck you into the bed, want him to ruin you, use you until you can barely remember your name.
Perhaps this is Jeonghan's way of taking his anger out on you—tormenting you until you're reduced to nothing but a sputtering, drooling wreck. Maybe he wants to see you plead, beg. Or maybe, he wants you to curse him out, chastise him, berate him for putting you through this torture.
Afraid of further repercussions, you decide to patiently wait, clenching your teeth to bite back from begging him to move. Seconds seem to drag on endlessly, and you resort to imagining the sight you'd be met with if you were to turn around. Would you see Jeonghan's face contorted into a mixture of frustration and hunger? Would his eyes be crazed and heated? Maybe he's enjoying the excruciating wait, peering down at you with an amused grin, tongue peeking out to rest against his lower lip just slightly. You're dying to know.
Then, as if he is satisfied with your unwavering determination to remain still for him, he loosens his hold on your hair, gently brushing the dishevelled strands back. His thumb extends out to stroke at the tendrils of baby hair stuck to your temple, damp with perspiration. "You want me to move, baby?"
The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you have half a mind to consider saying yes, but a nagging feeling tells you it might be a trick question. Jeonghan must've sensed your apprehension because you hear him chuckle.
Without any warning, he draws his hips back, pulling out until only his tip remains inside before plunging in again. Your jaw slackens into a silent moan. The lack of stimulation has made your body feel so attuned to his, sensitive to every little movement. You feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, feel his breath on your neck, and the ridges of the veins on his cock against your pussy.
"It's not a trick question, you know?"
You're quick to nod your head as best as you can. "Please move," you breathe out, feeling like you're on the verge of just turning around and demanding him to fuck you the way you both need it.
His hand grapples onto the sheets by your head, delivering another thrust into your cunt. His movement is languid, as though he wants to take his time. It's driving you crazy, just how collected he seems compared to you. Your body feels as though it's burning, lit ablaze by his kisses, touches, and every single point of contact between his skin and yours.
Your eyes zero in on his hand propped up on the bed, right in front of your eyes, honing in on the way the sheets bunch between his fingers and the way his ring sits snug on his pinky. Subconsciously, you reach out for it, fingertips digging into his knuckles, nails pinching into the skin when he thrusts again. The movement is more rushed this time, jostling you up on the bed just a little, which makes you gasp.
He removes your hand from him, hurriedly pressing your palm into the bed, cradling your hand from behind, his fingers sliding through the spaces of yours to intertwine them. The gesture feels so intimate, and it leaves you feeling disoriented. "Fuck, Hannie, so good..."
Jeonghan chuckles, peppering kisses all over your bare shoulder, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake wherever his lips meet your skin. "I've barely even started, baby."
Jeonghan pushes himself up onto his knees, letting go of your hand to place both his hands on your hips. He doesn't miss the way you groan at the loss of his warmth on your back, but he dismisses it. He pushes in once, twice, his gaze fixed on the point where his cock keeps appearing and disappearing into your drenched cunt.
You barely register it when Jeonghan hauls you up onto your hands and knees, lost in the thought of him, only comprehending the situation when he once again slides into your aching pussy. You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat, elbows buckling, almost sending your face flopping back into your pillow.
Jeonghan doesn't feel the need to take it slow anymore. His thrusts are no longer feeble, and his pace is steady. The sound of skin meeting skin fills his ears, mixed with your broken moans. It sounds like an obscene euphony, a harmony that makes his head feel foggy and hazed.
"Fuck, pretty, you're enjoying this, aren't you?" Jeonghan grunts, sneaking a glance down, only for his pace to falter when he sees the way your slick is coating your inner thighs. The view is so lewd, salacious, dirty, and messy. "My messy fucking baby," he mumbles, picking up his speed, eyes fluttering when he feels your walls tightening around him.
"Jeonghan... Jeonghan..." You're chanting his name like a mantra, eyes pinched close, savouring the feeling of being pumped full.
"Yeah... that's my name, baby," Jeonghan responds, restrain starting to slip, evident in the way his voice cracks just slightly at the last syllable. "Can you cum like this?"
You promptly shake your head. "N-No." It's not entirely a lie. You hate relying on your imagination like this. You want to be able to touch him, hold him, want to be able to look into his eyes as you let your orgasm crash down on you. You want to see the way his hair frames his pretty face, want to see his flushed cheeks and the sweat gathering at the dips of his collarbones. You want to see him, or you think you'll die on the spot.
"Good. Don't cum, princess."
"W-What?" you squeak out.
Jeonghan snorts out a laugh. "I told you before—you're not cumming tonight."
You gulp, stooping down low onto your elbow, too weak to support yourself up on your hands. "I wanna cum, H-Hannie... Please let me..."
Jeonghan only snickers, ramming into you harder, letting out a content sigh when your moans seem to escalate, becoming more wanton and desperate. You're squeezing him so tight, white ring of your milky slick forming a ring at the base of his cock, causing him to groan out loud. He'd like to think that he's in full control, but everything about you is making him feel delirious—your smell, your pussy, your moans.
Ever the competitive man, Jeonghan feels like he's losing this game. He's supposed to be angry at you, but why does it feel like you have the upper hand? Feeling irked by this sudden revelation, he stretches a hand out, wrapping it around your neck. He hears the surprised gasp you let out when he pulls you upright into his chest.
Your hands immediately fly up to circle around his wrist, taken aback by the sudden change of positions. His other arm slithers around your waist, keeping you balanced as he continues to fuck you from behind. "Fuck, Hannie, your cock feels so good," you can't help but murmur, arching your hips just slightly so he can reach deeper into you.
He scoffs, burying his face into the crook of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on the spot underneath your ear, strands of his hair tickling your skin. As he expects, your head lolls the other way, granting him better access to your neck. "Of course it feels good, baby. I've fucked you so many times your pussy is used to me now. Wouldn't be able to take another cock without thinking of mine, would you? Wouldn't feel so good if it wasn't my cock, right?"
His fingers dig into the sides of your neck, constricting just enough for you to gradually feel the drowsiness from the lack of air. It's intoxicating, being able to surrender yourself to another person completely, knowing they have you in the palm of their hand.
You're too preoccupied with the feeling of his hand around your throat to realise his other hand sneaking down to settle between your legs, middle and ring fingers starting to draw gentle circles into your bundle of nerves. It's almost too much—the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way his lips skim over your neck, the chokehold he has on you, the breathy groans he murmurs against your skin.
"Unghh! F-Fuck, Jeonghan, 'm gonna cum..."
He chuckles, delighted at the turn of events. He doesn't stop the motion of his fingers against your clit and instead presses down harder, making your head roll back onto his shoulder, a throaty moan spilling past your lips into the open air.
"Oh?" he says in a sardonic tone. "You said you couldn't cum like this. Or were you just lying to me, baby?" His mocking shouldn't have such power over you, but it makes your heart pound with the intensity of a raging storm.
"N-No, it's because you're... your fingers—"
"Hmm, what's with my fingers, angel?"
The fingers on your clit start moving faster, motions rushed and relentless, bringing you to the verge of your climax quicker than you would ever anticipate. The sudden shift in speed makes you cry out in shock, eyes pinching shut. You're quick to bring a hand down to his wrist, tugging, trying to yank his hand away from between your legs.
He doesn't relent, slapping your hand away and briefly resuming his assault on your aching bud. "Don't try to stop me now. I thought you wanted to cum."
"You told me not to," you rush out, heat starting to swell in your stomach, ready to burst.
Jeonghan lets out a chortle. "That's right, baby. Ah, you listen so well..." Stretching his tongue out, he licks a broad path up your neck, stopping right underneath your jaw, where he proceeds to suck the skin. He wants to mark you, claim you. What better way than to bruise your pretty skin, right? To show everyone only a sliver of what goes on between you and him behind closed doors.
"Oh, god, let me cum, please, please..." You have no other option than to resort to begging. Cumming without his consent would be catastrophic now. Not being able to see his face is punishment already to you, you're terrified of just how far he'd be willing to go to take his anger out on you.
Jeonghan presses the tip of his nose into the plushness of your cheek, humming as though he's weighing his options. "I don't think so, princess," he mumbles, the snap of his hips not once faltering, maintaining its hasty rhythm. "I don't think you deserve to cum."
You don't have much time left. Simple begging won't work now. You're wracking your brain for anything, anything. Forcing him to cum before you would be close to impossible, noting just how composed he seems. He's breathing hard, gravelly groans bubbling up in his chest, but he's nowhere near how wrecked you are.
Through your haze, you suddenly grow aware of the hand still draped over your throat. He's not pressing or squeezing, simply just letting his hand rest there as a means to keep you balanced on your knees as he fucks you open from behind.
Sheer desperation makes you reach both hands up to claw at the hand on your neck. You're clinging onto the last threads of your rationality, knowing if Jeonghan puts even the slightest amount of pressure on his grip, all your sanity will go out the window, and you'd be hurled face-first into your much-awaited orgasm. You're playing with fire, you know it, but you only have one chance.
"Unghh, f-fuck, please, choke me... I've been a bad girl, H-Hannie, choke me as punishment, and let me cum..."
You feel his mouth stretch into a grin against your cheek. Your walls are clenching around him so tight, pulsing, so hot and tight. He knows he has won. It's this notion of winning that has him thinking about giving in, but one look at your face has him reeling back his words. The furrow of your eyebrows, your slack jaw, your scarlet cheeks... it makes him feel sadistic. You wanted him to be angry at you anyway, what boyfriend would he be if he didn't give you any reason to make him angry?
Then, Jeonghan watches. He tightens the hand around your neck, and continues his assault on your clit with the other, all while he continues to ram his dick into you again and again. You start to babble out incoherent words, and that's when he finally strikes.
"Don't cum."
Those are the two simple words that send you dissolving into a whirl of pleasure and euphoria. Your ears feel like they're ringing as pure, white heat consumes you whole, moaning out your boyfriend's name repeatedly as you go rigid in his embrace. It's like shockwaves, rippling through you so forcibly you have no choice but to succumb to the raging tides, riding it out until you can fully apprehend the situation again.
Gradually, you begin to notice the way Jeonghan holds you tight to him, how both his hands wrap around your waist to keep your body pressed to his, how his hips have stilled, hard cock still sheathed in your throbbing heat. He's pressing soft kisses onto your shoulder, coaxing you down from your high.
Jeonghan lets your tired figure collapse onto the bed before sitting back and propping himself up on his heels. The sight is so endearing to him—you, still huffing breathlessly, hushed whines slipping past your lips at every exhale, so spent after only one orgasm. Jeonghan feels like it's so perverse of him to reach a hand down to stroke at his still-hard cock, touching himself to the sight of your curled figure. From this angle, he can see the mess between your thighs, remnants of your juices and his pre-cum smeared all over your puffy pussy lips. Oh, he definitely isn't done with you just yet.
He hears you mumble his name groggily. Jeonghan's not sure whether you're calling out to him or just saying meaningless things in your post-orgasm haze. He doesn't waste time thinking, though, immediately swooping down to cage you between his arms, kissing along your hairline. "Tired already?"
Your eyes flutter open, looking up at your boyfriend who hovers above you with a smirk that makes your heart skip a beat. Fuck, you're really in for it.
He coos at you, but it sounds sarcastic. "I told you to hold it, didn't I?"
You puff out a breath, shifting onto your back, obediently parting your legs so Jeonghan can slot himself in between them. "But your fingers—"
"Good girls don't talk back, do they, pretty?"
"N-No..."
He nods, eyes wandering downward, not trying to hide the way they zero in on your breasts. "No, they don't... But you're not a good girl, are you?" he asks, lowering himself to blow cool air onto your nipple, earning a choked gasp from you. Without any warning, he latches his mouth onto the skin at the top of your breast, sucking earnestly, not letting up until he's finally satisfied with the reddening of the skin there. He always loved to see the reddish hue of your hickeys turn into delicate shades of blue and purple as they heal.
"I can be your good girl..."
"No, no, baby, you're a lying whore who doesn't do as they're told."
"Hannie, I asked you so many times—"
Jeonghan doesn't give you a chance to object, immediately slanting his lips over yours. He pushes his tongue past your spit-coated lips, exploring every crevice of your mouth, letting his tongue tangle with yours lasciviously. He feels you sigh against his mouth, hands coming up to curl around the nape of his neck.
Reaching a hand down, he positions his cock over your entrance, plunging himself into your sopping pussy without any notice. It's easy to sink back into you—you're still sopping wet and stretched open from before.
Shocked, you break away from the kiss to let out a sharp cry, nails digging into his shoulders, threatening to break the skin there. "God, J-Jeonghan!"
He doesn't give you any time to adjust, quickly finding a rhythm that makes you arch your chest, pebbled nipples brushing against his front. You finally have the chance to look at him, really look at him. Fuck, you wouldn't trade this sight for anything else. He's the most beautiful thing you've ever had the privilege of seeing.
He notices your lovestruck eyes, cock twitching inside you as he pounds into you. He thinks you're so pretty, all splayed out underneath him, so pliant, letting him do whatever he pleases with you. Your hair fans out over the pillow under your head, thin tendrils of it clinging onto your dewy temple and neck. He understands why you love to see his face so much whenever you fuck—he thinks he could cum earlier than anticipated if you keep looking at him with that infatuated gaze.
"Fuck, baby..." he curses, and it's the first time you've seen him lose his composure. "Fuck, you're such a pretty little thing..."
Your body sings at the compliment, shuddering, legs pressing into his sides, wanting to close shut but unable to. You're light-headed, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but this feels too good to stop. With quivering hands, you slip your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling carelessly. He's growing his hair out, so the length falls just shy of his shoulders, some strands curling over his neck like delicate tendrils of silk.
Jeonghan's low groan pulls you out of your dazed thoughts. "Hannie..."
"Mhm, am I fucking you good, gorgeous? No one else can fuck you like I can, hm?"
You rake your nails across the nape of his neck, whimpering when he shifts just a little, hitching one of your legs up and hooking it around his slender waist. He thrusts a few more times, and his cock brushes against a spot that has you jolting, mewling as he grazes it repeatedly.
"Oh? Right there?" Jeonghan noses at your cheekbone, listening to your gasps and whimpers, feeling his abdomen tighten at the obscene sounds you let out.
"R-Right there..."
"That's it... You think Seungcheol can get you like this?"
At the mention of your ex's name, you whine loudly. A part of you hadn't expected Jeonghan to remember the earlier incident, but you should've known better. It seems stupid to think Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't remember an incident that occurred only an hour ago.
"H-Hannie..."
"Hm, you gonna meet him for lunch? Gonna let him try to win you over? Gonna let him have what's mine?"
You shake your head, on the verge of sobbing, feeling your eyes fill with tears. "Wouldn't do that," you rasp. "I'm yours, Hannie..."
Jeonghan doesn't seem very convinced. "Yeah? You're mine?" he mutters against the apple of your cheek. His voice is low, any traces of anger or annoyance concealed. "You wanna say you're mine, with his contact still saved in your phone, baby? Don't be silly."
Your heel digs into Jeonghan's lower back, anchoring him to you as he continues to drill into you. "But I am yours—"
"Are you?"
"Y-Yes, always yours..." A hard thrust has you gasping, tears trickling down your temple, getting caught in your hair.
Jeonghan's pace stutters, distracted by the way you blink up at him through your damp lashes. Tears gather at your lash line, and he can't help but want more. It's a sick thought, but Jeonghan doesn't care much. How could he care when he's balls deep inside of you, feeling like he's about to explode from the way your heat wraps around him so well? He wants to see you cry for him, sob, snivel, all because you can't get enough of his cock. He wants you to cum so hard you see stars and forget about everything but him, him, him. Choi Seungcheol will be the last thing on your mind.
When Jeonghan lowers himself down onto his elbow, he seals his mouth to yours, kissing you fervently. It's a bruising kiss, teeth digging into lips, tongue rolling together in an alluring dance. After some time, Jeonghan reluctantly pulls back, taking a much-needed breath. He groans at the sight of your lips, all plump and damp with a mixture of his and your spit. "Fuck, baby... you're mine, aren't you?"
"Y-Yes, yes!" you babble, vision blurring as more tears fill your eyes.
"You're gonna let me fill you up? Have your pussy dripping my cum for days so you don't forget who you belong to. You like the sound of that?"
"God, yes, yes..."
Your thighs are starting to shake, Jeonghan can feel it on his hips. He brings his lips over yours again, not kissing you, just barely letting it brush over yours. He can feel every hot breath you release against his mouth. "Say his name, baby."
"Unghh... Hannie—"
He snickers. "I said his name, not mine," he says darkly, pecking your lips once.
You're confused and so goddamn frustrated. You're teetering on the precipice of your orgasm, and he wants to play mind games with you now? "No," you whine, shaking your head.
"No? Why are you so scared?"
"F-Fuck, please!"
"I won't get mad at you for saying it, princess." His voice has dropped down an octave. It feels like it's seeping into your brain, turning it into mush.
"C-Can't..." you murmur, drool gathering in your mouth the more Jeonghan splits you open.
"You can't? Why? Scared you might cum if you say his name? Scared you'll think of him when you cum?"
Your eyes grow wide in alarm. "N-No! I wouldn't do that, oh god, f-fuck..."
"Then say it or you're not cumming," he threatens, grinding harder into you, angling his pelvis just slightly so that it brushes against your clit every time he thrusts in. He watches your eyes roll back, pleasure fogging up your brain. He feels your juices coat his pelvis, splashing over his lower abdomen. Whenever his cock dips in and out, the wet sounds resound throughout the room, and it makes him hiss. "Say it," he repeats, knowing he won't last much longer.
You frantically shake your head, moans coming out stuttered. "N-No, please don't, I can't...Hannie—"
Jeonghan notes the way you're starting to sound distant. "Say it or I'm leaving you here to cum by yourself."
Your eyes meet his—frazzled, panicked, dazed. "Please, I can't!"
"You wanted me mad, right? This is it, princess. Show some gratitude and say his fucking name."
You're trying hard to read him, to possibly decipher his intentions, but it's so hard when you feel like you're on the verge of passing out from the onslaught of pleasure. You reach one hand down to rake at the skin of his lower back, earning a throaty groan from him, a sound that makes your skin prickle. Your other hand settles on his face, cupping his jaw softly, as if begging him.
Your eyes roam over his face, taking in his exquisite beauty that always leaves you short of breath. His tousled hair hangs over his forehead, dangling in front of his eyes, dark like pools of obsidian, drawing you into their depth. There's a radiant flush that colours his cheeks, drawing your attention to the contour of his cheekbones and jaw, dusted lightly with sweat, highlighting the sharp features. Then his lips—so inviting and soft, parting with each breath.
Jeonghan feels almost flattered under the weight of your affectionate stare. He briefly closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose, trying to pull himself together. He tries to push everything out of his mind—your delicious sounds, your intoxicating scent, your warm cunt around his cock. It's your sweet, quiet whine that pulls him out of his reverie. When he locks eyes with you again, he knows there's nothing he can do to delay his impending climax—not when you're looking up at him so tenderly, eyes fixated on him like a moth drawn to a mesmerizing flame.
"I c-cant... Don't make me say his name, p-please..."
Jeonghan swallows hard, one hand curving at the nape of your neck. With his grip he tilts your head up, letting your lips caress his. "Say my name, then. Say my name when you cum. Look at me and show me who you belong to..."
You cum with a shout of Jeonghan's name, your whole body shaking at the sudden explosion. You squirm in your boyfriend's hold, toes curling over the back of his thighs as the pleasure ravages your whole body, surging through every nerve and every cell. It's numbing and so overwhelming at the same time, every inch of your skin humming with electricity, and every vein feeling like they've been set ablaze. For a moment, nothing else in the world matters except you and Jeonghan, entwined in each other as you lose yourself in the whirlwind of pleasure.
"Fuck, fuck, should I fill you up, baby?" Jeonghan's voice quivers just slightly.
The question sends another flood of ecstasy through you, cunt fluttering around his cock a second time. "Yes, yes—"
Your voice is like a siren's call to him, beckoning him, tempting him. Jeonghan is only a man, and he's not immune to a force as powerful as you. He sinks his teeth into your neck as he finally empties himself inside you with a drawn-out groan. Your tight cunt is pulsing so tightly around him, milking him, forcing every drop of cum to spill into you and coat your walls. A rather high-pitched whine escapes his lips as he slumps into you, hips flushed to yours, aching balls slick with the mixture of your release and his.
You're panting heavily as you wrap your arms around Jeonghan, blinking up at the ceiling blearily, feeling filled to the brim with his cum still in you. Despite having the urge to clean yourself up and get rid of the stickiness between your legs, you lie there for another minute, feeling so content with Jeonghan's weight atop yours and his lips on your neck. Being with him is pure bliss.
"Jeonghan," you say softly after some time, not wanting to ruin the peace and quiet.
He hums, rolling over to the side to lie on his back, letting his softening cock slip out of you. He pulls you into him with one arm, allowing you to settle half of your body on top of his. He lets out a pleased sigh, one hand grazing over your bare back, fingertips gliding down the dip of your spine.
Placing a palm on his chest, you rest your chin on the back of your hand, gazing up at him tiredly. He seems to glow so prettily, eyes fluttered shut and a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Despite the heaviness of your eyelids, you gather your resolve, knowing that you still have something to clarify with him.
Without thinking too much, you mumble Jeonghan's name again and smile when his eyes flutter open to peer down at you drowsily. His free hand comes up to brush back the hair from your eyes.
"I'm sorry for not letting you know," you mutter, the weight of your guilt just now settling in your heart. If you don't apologise now, the feeling might devour you whole. "I should've told you..."
The hand on your back ceases moving, palm splaying on your upper back, warm against your skin. "Baby, I wasn't really—you know—angry about it. I was a little stumped, sure, but... I trust you. I always trust you."
You shake your head, pulling yourself up slightly to look at him better. "You deserve to be angry. Jeonghan, you should be so angry at me. I should've told you as soon as I got home from that dinner party."
Jeonghan chuckles, much to your dismay. "Okay, then why didn't you?"
"I just... didn't think it was important. I felt like it wasn't anything worth telling you. It's not a good excuse, I know."
"Is Seungcheol important to you?"
Your eyes widen in disbelief, unable to fully grasp what you just heard. "What! No, of course not!"
"Then what's there to apologise about?" Jeonghan says with a snicker. "Did you kiss him at the party? Did he try to make any move on you? Did he seem interested in you?"
"No to all of those. I... I told him I already found someone else," you admit in a quiet voice.
When Jeonghan smiles at you, it looks somewhat smug. "That's my girl... Besides, it wasn't his face that you were sitting on when you got back home from that party, was it?"
Appalled by Jeonghan's words, you bring your palm down on his chest, smacking him. "You're disgusting, Yoon Jeonghan."
He only laughs, eyes crinkling as he pulls you even closer. "Don't act like you don't love it."
You say nothing, only bringing your head down to rest it on his chest again. His heartbeat is strong against your ear, and his skin feels warm under your cheek.
"So..." Jeonghan begins. "Round two in the shower?"
He doesn't have to ask twice—you're already off the bed and sauntering towards the bathroom.
Being a grad student swarmed with work constantly, it isn’t easy to make time to get yourself out of the house, unless it is your life and your best friend Vernon, makes sure to drag you out of the house for what he calls, “Vernon time”. When Vernon drags you to a hardcore show unknowingly, your eyes get caught on a long black haired guitarist who looks as if he has no part in a hardcore band. Going to this show was either going to be the best or worst mistake of your life.
WC:10.6k
TAGS: oblivious to love, oblivious to feelings, friends(?) to lovers, slow burn, idiots in love, slight unrequited love but it gets resolved, happy ending, a tiny small love triangle, jeonghan is in a hardcore band, jeonghan has beautiful long black hair, jeonghan is basically in love with the reader from the moment he laid eyes on her.
WARNINGS/THINGS TO MAKE NOTE OF!: No smut! Smoking, cursing, heavy making out, jeonghan kinda being sassy and angsty, i think thats it(?!)
A/N: when i first thought of this idea i literally was so excited to write it! Thank you for all of the love on my other two works, it literally means so much to me and im sooooooo happy everyone is loving them!!! I really hope u love this one, i love my jeonghan. I cannot wait for his discharge and until then, i hope this story helps all you jeonghan girlies hold out throughout the final stretch, you got this he's almost back!!!!!
“Can you turn your fucking music down, please? I can hear it through my earbuds.” You beg, turning around looking over your shoulder towards the boy sprawled on your couch scribbling something in a notebook, blasting music out of his phone.
He looks up from his notebook, tucks his pen behind his ear and gives you a puppy-like pout. “But you love my music tasteeeee!” He complains drawing out the last word of his sentence.
“Vernon, I think I would seriously, rather drop out of school than listen to your music on my own will.”
He sticks his tongue out at you. You flip him off with a small, amused smile before turning back to the kitchen table, slipping your earbuds in again. Not even ten seconds pass before you hear your name faintly over the music.
“What.” You snap back around tugging one wired earbud out.
“Please come with me to a show tonight,” Vernon says, sitting up now, his grin wide and hopeful. “It’s literally a few blocks from here.”
You hesitate.
Grad school has been eating you alive—papers, research, deadlines stacked on top of each other until you can barely think straight. You haven’t left your apartment for anything other than class and coffee runs in weeks.
Vernon, unfortunately, has noticed.
For the past month, he’s been trying to drag you out to local shows with him. He calls it “Vernon time,” like it’s some kind of scheduled, mandatory event you keep skipping out on.
You met him freshman year in your Music in Literature class. One random group assignment turned into shared notes, then late-night study sessions, then… came the inseparable dynamic duo that you are now. Years later, he’s still planted firmly in your life—loud, insistent, and impossible to ignore.
And obsessed with making you listen to music.
Every song he’s ever loved, every artist he’s ever cared about, every obscure live performance he swears will “change your life”—you’ve heard about all of it. That’s just how it works between you. He talks, you listen, and you would never want it any other way.
Even now, technically living in separate apartments doesn’t mean much. Vernon has his own key to yours, lets himself in whenever he wants, and somehow always ends up exactly where you are.
After graduation, he almost immediately landed a job at a major New York music magazine—reporting, photographing, interviewing. A dream job for him, really. You’ve never seen him so happy.
Which is exactly why he keeps trying to pull you into his world.
And exactly why you keep saying no, especially to things like this. Grad school was way more important than late night local bar shows.
You narrow your eyes at him, already half-turning back to your laptop. “And what, exactly, do I get out of this?”
Vernon doesn’t even hesitate. “Enrichment… and… Vernon time…”
You stare at him.
“Absolutely not.”
“Okay, rude,” he scoffs. A pause. “You get culture! Character development! Meet new people! A break from whatever academic fucking world you’ve been voluntarily subjecting yourself to for the past—” he glances around, squinting, “—month?”
“Three weeks,” you correct flatly.
“Don’t care. You need to get out.”
“I have a paper due.”
“And you will write it,” he says easily. “Just not tonight.”
“Yes, tonight. Because unlike you, I don’t get paid to stand around and listen to music.”
He gasps. “First of all, I do not just stand around. I help contribute to the music scene in the greater Manhattan area!”
“You take pictures of people with guitars.”
“Artists,” he corrects, offended.
“Be so fucking serious, Vernon.”
“I am serious,” he insists, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “I’m also serious about you needing to leave this apartment.”
You huff, crossing your arms, but you don’t turn back to your laptop this time.
He notices.
His voice softens—just a little. It’s sweet. “It’s two hours. You can stand there, judge everyone silently, and then we’ll leave. I’ll even buy you food after.”
“That’s bribery.”
“That’s friendship.”
“That’s stupid.”
“That my friend, is Vernon time.” he smiles big.
“It’s not even a big thing,” he adds, nudging. “It’s close. Low commitment. If you hate it, we leave. No complaints. I’ll personally walk you back, tuck you in, and let you ignore me for another week.”
“…You already don’t listen when I ignore you.”
“Okay, fair,” he admits. “But I’ll try harder.”
There’s a pause.
“You are fucking relentless.” You sigh, long and dramatic, dragging a hand down your face. “I’ll go, but we’re not staying long.”
His entire face lights up instantly. “Deal.”
You grab your purse from the table, ready to leave the house in exactly what you are wearing now. Baggy jeans, a white tank top and oversized zip up zipped half way.
“…This is a terrible idea,” you mumble.
Vernon grins, already on his feet, camera bag in hand. “Vernon time has historically only been fantastic.”
“For you.” You say patting his back patronizingly as he walks towards the door.
A six block walk doesn’t sound like much—until you actually walk it after weeks of being cooped up.
The air is cooler than your apartment, the city louder in a different way. Cars passing, distant chatter, the hum of people existing outside of deadlines and word counts. It feels… strange, but maybe it has just been a while since you experienced the city you live in.
You adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “This better be worth it.”
Vernon huffs out a quiet laugh. “Wow. Your faith in me is overwhelming.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know,” he says, nudging your arm lightly. “That’s what makes it funny.”
When you finally reach the place, you nearly walk right past it, as Vernon grabs your arm to make sure you don’t do just that.
It’s tucked between two buildings, easy to miss if you’re not looking for it. A dim, flickering light hangs above a narrow entrance that leads down a set of concrete stairs.
Right beside it, there’s a cramped alley—graffiti lining the brick walls, a couple of people smoking weed, talking loudly over the faint thrum of bass that seeps out from underground.
“…This is it?”
Vernon nods a little too quickly. “Yep. Kind of hidden, but that’s part of the charm.” He smiles positively.
The deeper you go down the stairs, the louder it gets. The bass vibrates through the walls, through your feet, through your chest.
And the second Vernon pushes through the door—
It hits you.
Sound crashes over you all at once—loud, aggressive, overwhelming. Guitars screech, drums pound, and the vocals are less singing and more raw, guttural shouting.
The room is packed. Bodies moving, thrashing all over each other.
“…Vernon did you take me to a fucking hardcore show?!” You yell at him over the blaring music.
He just looks at you—
And smiles.
Nervously.
You should’ve known.
You had gotten used to this side of him—the late nights, the endless “just watch this one set,” the way he’d dragged you into watching that ridiculously laggy Lollapalooza Argentina livestream just to make you watch Turnstile at one in the morning.
You had complained the entire time.
What Vernon doesn’t know—what he will absolutely never know—is that after that night, you downloaded Never Enough and ended up playing it on loop during study sessions more times than you’d ever admit.
Your glare softens just a fraction, just enough for him to notice.
“…If I get hit—”
“You won’t.”
“I’m blaming you.”
“Fair.”
The current song comes to a sudden, crashing end—one last scream into the mic, one final slam of drums.
You blink, slightly disoriented.
“…Is it over?”
“Set change,” Vernon says, already pulling his camera out from his bag, fingers moving quickly and automatically as he adjusts the settings. “That was the opener.”
“That was the opener?” you repeat, incredulous.
He just grins.
You barely have time to process it before movement starts again on stage. A new group pushes through—four guys, setting up quickly like they’ve done this a hundred times before.
The drummer hops behind the kit, spinning a stick in his hand with way too much enthusiasm. The bassist adjusts his strap, expression calm and focused. Off to the side, the guitarist casually plugs in, long black hair falling into his face as he shakes it back.
Your eyes linger for half a second.
Sharp features, effortless in that way that looks like he didn’t even try, he just exists like that. The long black hair doesn’t help whatsoever.
You blink, looking away almost immediately.
Not your problem.
The vocalist steps up to the mic, grabbing it with a grin that feels just a little unhinged.
“WHAT’S UP,” he shouts, voice already rough, already loud enough to cut through the room. “We’re Shovel Fight Club!”
You turn your head slowly toward Vernon.
“…You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was,” he says, way too amused.
On stage, the vocalist continues like that is a completely normal thing to say.
“We’ve got one song for you—so if you’re gonna lose your mind, do it now!”
The crowd immediately surges forward again.
“Of course they only have one song,” you mutter.
“They’re new,” Vernon shrugs, lifting his camera and snapping a few quick shots. “This is who I’m here for.”
You glance at him. “You came here… for Shovel Fight Club?”
“For the article,” he corrects, already moving slightly to the side to get a better angle. “Review, photos, maybe an interview if they don’t run off immediately after.”
Before you can respond, the band launches into their song.
It’s loud. Fast. Completely unhinged.
The vocalist—Soonyoung, apparently—throws himself across the stage like he’s got something to prove. The drummer, Seokmin, is somehow even more intense, hitting like his life depends on it. The bassist, Jihoon, stays more grounded, but there’s a focus to him that stands out.
And then there’s—
Your gaze flicks back, just briefly.
The guitarist.
Jeonghan, if you heard that right.
There’s something effortless about him, fingers moving easily over the strings, long dark hair falling into his face before he pushes it back again. He’s calmer than his friends on stage, quieter.
You cross your arms, shifting your weight as the music crashes around you again, still loud, still overwhelming—but this time, just a little more familiar.
Beside you, Vernon lowers his camera for a second, glancing over.
“Well?” he asks, a hint of a grin on his face. “Still hate it?”
You hesitate.
“…I didn’t say that.”
His grin widens.
The song doesn’t really end so much as it collapses into itself.
Soonyoung is still bouncing in place at the front of the stage, grabbing the mic again even though the one song set is clearly over. Seokmin throws a drumstick into the crowd. Jihoon just wipes his face, looking mildly exhausted, like he’s already over it but also kind of satisfied. Jeonghan takes a second, scanning the room with a calmness that feels almost unfair compared to everything else happening.
Vernon is already half turned away, pulling his camera strap over his shoulder. “Yeah, I need to go grab them before they disappear.”
“Wait—what?”
“For the interview,” he says, like it’s obvious, already backing away. “Don’t move. I’ll be like ten minutes.”
You push through the crowd carefully, weaving toward the edge of the room until you find a door marked EXIT half-hidden behind a pillar.
You slip outside.
The difference is immediate.
The city sounds come back softly—distant traffic, a couple of faint car horns, the hum of streetlights overhead. The wind is cool against your face, cutting through the noise still buzzing in your ears.
You exhale slowly.
Better.
You lean against the building for a moment, rolling your shoulders back, trying to reset your brain after whatever you just witnessed inside.
Then—
click.
A lighter.
Small, sharp in the quiet.
You pause.
Another flick. Then a pause. Then the soft glow of flame catching briefly before disappearing again.
Curiosity pulls you before you can think better of it.
You follow the sound, turning the corner into the narrow alley beside the bar.
It’s dimmer here, the light from the street barely reaching between the brick walls.
And there, leaning casually against the wall like nothing could ever bother him—
Jeonghan.
Long black hair falling loosely around his face, one hand cupping a lighter as he finally gets the cigarette lit. The flame briefly illuminates his skin before he flicks it shut, exhaling like he’s done this a thousand times without thinking.
You stop.
For a second, neither of you move.
He notices you anyway.
Of course he does.
His eyes lift slowly, calm and unreadable at first—then flicker with faint curiosity as they settle on you.
“…Want a hit?” he asks, voice low, a little rough around the edges.
You blink, caught off guard.
“I—no. I actually just needed air.”
A pause.
He takes a drag, looking at you properly now, like he’s deciding whether you’re lost, or just unfortunate enough to be outside at the same time as him.
Then, slightly amused:
“Fair.” Jeonghan shrugs
He is still, eyes scanning you.
“…Is it always that chaotic in there?” you ask, nodding vaguely toward the bar behind you.
Jeonghan lets out a quiet hum, taking another slow drag before answering. “Depends on the band.”
“That felt less like a band and more like a ‘we finally got this out of the group chat’ type thing.”
That gets a real reaction out of him—something like a short laugh, soft and surprised, like he didn’t expect you to be funny.
“Yeah,” he says, exhaling smoke to the side. “That’s… not inaccurate.”
Jeonghan shifts his weight against the brick wall, cigarette held loosely between his fingers. “So why are you out here instead of in there getting thrown into strangers?”
“I was temporarily escaping being thrown into strangers.”
“Reasonable.”
You lean back against the opposite wall now, giving yourself a little more space. “My friend abandoned me— to find your band actually.”
“The interviewer? Well he definitely found Soonyoung. That boy loves an interview. I am just lucky to have missed it, so I can now spend my time meeting someone new… and very charming may I add.” He doesn’t break eye contact with you.
You feel your face flush a red, though you doubt he will see it due to the dim lighting of this alley.
The last time someone was that forward with you was in high school when you got asked out for the first time. You politely declined because you didn’t want a “distraction from school”. Clearly, nothing has changed for you have never been on a date nor ever even spoken to people romantically ever.
You stay leaned against the opposite wall, arms loosely crossed, pretending the brick texture is suddenly fascinating enough to stare at.
Jeonghan doesn’t comment on your pause right away.
He just watches you for a second too long—like he’s noticed the shift, but isn’t interested in calling it out.
Then, as if nothing happened at all, he tilts his head slightly.
You exhale through your nose. “You’re weirdly confident for someone I just met in an alley.”
“I said what I saw.”
“That’s not how seeing works.”
“It is for me.”
That gets you—just a little. A reluctant huff of air that almost turns into a laugh.
Jeonghan notices immediately, of course.
His eyes flicker like he’s clocking every detail without trying.
“So,” he says, easing back into the wall again, “you always get flustered when strangers talk to you, or am I special?”
Shit, he can tell I'm blushing.
“I’m not flustered.”
“You looked flustered.”
You finally turn your head toward him, narrowing your eyes. “Are you always this annoying to people you don’t know?”
He is silent, taking advantage of the cloud of already formed tension above you two.
“So,” he repeats, softer this time but still curious, “what’s your name?” He takes a long drag from his withering cigarette.
You hesitate.
You study him for a second.
He looks interested.
“…Why?” you ask cautiously.
“Because it’s easier to talk to someone when you can call them something other than ‘random person in the alley,’” he says simply.
“That’s fair,” you admit reluctantly.
You give in with a small sigh. “It’s y/n.”
He repeats it once under his breath, like he’s checking how it sounds.
Then he nods. “Okay, y/n.”
Something about the way he says it makes your stomach do a small, annoying flip that you immediately ignore.
You clear your throat. “And you’re Jeonghan. I heard Soonyoung yelling it like five times.”
“I prefer when he’s quieter,” he says.
“Interesting claim from someone in a hardcore band with him.” You cross your arms looking him dead in the eyes. You want to know more about him.
Another pause settles between you—but it’s different now. Less unknown. More… defined.
“What do you do?” He asks curiously.
“Grad school.” You feel yourself rolling your eyes at your answer.
Jeonghan hums at your answer like he’s filing it away somewhere.
“Grad school,” he repeats. “You must be real smart.”
“I promise you, the success is not worth the stress.”
“That tracks,” Jeonghan says simply.
You huff a small laugh before he tilts his head slightly, studying you again—still curious, still unbothered.
“What kind of music do you like then, y/n?” he asks.
You blink at him.
“That feels like a loaded question.”
“It’s not.”
You hesitate.
Because the honest answer feels stupid in your head. Like it doesn’t fit you standing here in an alley, talking to someone like him.
“I don’t know,” you say carefully. “I listen to… a bit of everything.”
“That’s a fake answer,” he says immediately.
You squint at him. “Excuse me?”
“No one who listens to everything actually listens to everything.”
“That’s not—” you stop, then sigh. “Okay. Fine. I really don’t hate hardcore.”
Jeonghan’s eyebrows lift slightly.
“…You don’t hate it?” he repeats.
“I didn’t say I’m obsessed with it.”
“But you don’t hate it.”
You roll your eyes, but there’s less distance in it now.
Jeonghan shifts against the brick wall, cigarette still between his fingers, then glances at it briefly as if only now remembering it’s there.
“Sure you don’t want a hit?” he asks.
His tone is different than before. It was casual, normal. Like it’s an option you’re allowed to take or ignore without it meaning anything about you.
You glance at it.
Then at him.
“I don’t really smoke,” you say.
Jeonghan doesn’t react immediately. He just watches you for a second longer than necessary, like he’s registering more than your words.
“Yeah,” he says finally, like that checks out.
A beat passes.
The alley is quieter than it should be for how loud your brain feels.
Jeonghan doesn’t push. Doesn’t insist. Just holds it there in his hand like it’s still your choice, not a test.
That’s what makes it worse.
Because it doesn’t feel like pressure.
It feels like permission.
“…Actually,” you say before you can fully talk yourself out of it, “give me that.”
His brows lift slightly.
“Yeah?” he asks, calm.
You hesitate for half a second too long, then step closer and take it.
Your fingers brush his… and you are very aware of it.
Jeonghan’s gaze flickers down for the briefest moment—then back to your face, like he’s pretending he didn’t notice either.
You bring it to your lips.
Inhale.
It burns—sharp and immediate—but this time you don’t pull away right away. You hold it a little longer, exhale slowly, and cough into your sleeve, eyes watering slightly.
Jeonghan lets out a quiet laugh under his breath.
Not mocking.
Just… pleased.
“Told you,” he says.
You glare at him lightly. “That was still awful.”
He takes it back when you hand it over, fingers brushing yours again—slower this time, more deliberate in a way he doesn’t comment on.
But his eyes stay on you.
You notice that.
Of course you do.
“JEONGHAN.”
Both of you turn.
Soonyoung is standing at the entrance to the alley, hands on his head, looking personally offended by the universe.
“You were supposed to do the interview!” he yells. “I TOLD YOU ABOUT IT TWICE. TWICE MAN!”
Behind him, Vernon appears a second later—slower, more confused, eyes scanning the scene like he’s trying to compute it.
A smile grows instantly wide in amusement on Vernon’s face. “Holy shit, y/n I-” He laughs to himself not even finishing the sentence.
Soonyoung finally notices you properly and immediately looks even more annoyed. “Why is there a civilian in the alley with my guitarist?”
Jeonghan doesn’t move away from you.
Doesn’t look guilty either.
He just laughs to himself.
“Ignore him.” Jeonghan whispers towards your direction.
“Oh my god,” Vernon laughs to himself.
You frown. “What?”
Vernon points vaguely at you like he’s just solved a puzzle. “You’re talking to people.”
“…Yes?”
“Like,” he gestures again, more animated now, “people people. Outside. In an alley. With a cigarette. With—” he looks at Jeonghan, then back at you, “—someone who is, like, objectively attractive.”
“…I hate you.” You glare at your best friend, waving him a goodbye.
Vernon laughs as he walks back into the bar below the ground, Soonyoung casting Jeonghan a fake-angry judgemental look as he follows Vernon.
“Your friend is… intense,” you say, still scanning Jeonghan’s features.
He lets out a breath. “That’s one word for it.”
A pause.
“You know what y/n, I like you.” He nods his head, putting out the cigarette butt on the brick wall behind him. He drops the cigarette on the ground below his feet and pulls out his phone from his back pocket. “Phone number, please.” He gives a very cute yet pleased smile.
“You will be lucky if I can get away from work for a moment to even respond.” You say grabbing the phone from his hand and typing in your number.
“I’d consider myself the luckiest guy in the world.” He locks eyes with you, smiling a true, genuine smile.
You feel your cheeks heat up again.
“Keep telling yourself that.” You say, beginning to walk out of the alleyway, towards the bar.
“I’m glad you decided to come out tonight y/n.” Jeonghan speaks sincerely.
Vernon flops back harder into the couch cushions, one arm thrown over his eyes like he’s been personally wronged by the concept of journalism.
“Like… I don’t know man. Soonyoung’s answers are just like, not what you want to publish in an article… you know?” He bites on the end of his pen again, frowning at the notebook in his lap. “I don’t really know how I am going to publish these.”
You pull your blanket tighter around your shoulders, curled into the opposite end of the couch, still riding the weird aftertaste of the night.
“…How bad are we talking?” you ask.
Vernon lifts his arm just enough to look at you. “One of my questions was about their musical influences.”
“Okay.”
“He said—and I’m quoting—‘sometimes I just hear a noise in my brain and chase it.’”
You blink.
“…That’s kind of poetic.”
“That’s not helpful,” Vernon groans, dropping his arm back over his face. “What am I supposed to do with that? I can’t put that in print like that. My editor will think I made it up.”
He leans forward now, elbows on his knees, already thinking ahead. You can see it happen in real time—the shift from complaining to problem-solving.
“…They’ve got another show in a few days,” he says.
You glance at him. “And?”
“And I can redo it,” he continues. “Or—better—I can just ask the other guys everything this time.”
“That sounds ideal.”
“Right?” He points the pen at you again, more animated now. “So I go, I get actual usable material, and my article doesn’t get rejected.”
He takes a pause, now locking eyes with you.
“Come with me again.”
You immediately shake your head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I already did my one chaotic band night for the year.” You let out a quiet laugh despite yourself.
“…Also,” he adds, softer now but very intentional, “you might run into your alley friend again.”
Your grip on the blanket tightens just slightly.
“That’s not—” you start, then stop. “That’s not a reason.”
“Didn’t say it was,” he shrugs.
A pause settles.
Your brain, unhelpfully, fills in the gaps anyway—
dim light, brick walls, the flick of a lighter, the way your name sounded in his voice.
You exhale slowly.
“…I’ll think about it,” you say.
Vernon nods immediately, like he’s already won. “Yeah. That’s fine.”
Pages of notes. Articles. Highlighted readings that all start to blur together until you’re not entirely sure if you’ve read something already or just thought about reading it.
No texts from anyone but Vernon and your mom, not like you were looking for a text from someone or anything…
Vernon shows up to your apartment… more than once.
Uninvited, every time.
The first time, he brings food and complains about revisions on his reviews.
The second time, he “accidentally” stays for six hours.
The third time, he doesn’t even explain—just walks in, drops onto your couch, and starts talking like he lives there.
Each time, you pretend to be annoyed.
Each time, you get less convincing about it.
Because as much as he distracts you— It’s better than the silence.
You feel—
Restless.
Slightly unhinged, if you’re being honest.
So when the text comes in:
Vernon: Show’s tonight. You coming or what?
You don’t overthink it.
For once.
Y/n: Yeah
“Wow,” Vernon says beside you as you walk toward the venue, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “She leaves the house.”
“Don’t make it a thing.”
“It’s a huge thing,” he says. “Documented event. I should write about this instead.”
“You’re not funny.”
“I’m a little funny.”
You huff, but it doesn’t stick.
Because the truth is— You needed this. So so bad.
The venue is smaller this time.
Tighter. Warmer. Less overwhelming—but louder in a way that settles into your chest instead of crashing over your head.
It feels… easier to breathe here. Just noise. Light. Energy.
And the faint, creeping awareness that— You might actually be glad you came.
You are approached by a ball of energy.
Soonyoung runs up to the two of you without warning and starts jumping up and down, so excited to see a familiar face.
“You came back! To see me?!” He turns to Vernon giving him a big hug.
Vernon is taken aback as he pats Soonyoung’s back lightly, confused by the sudden hug.
Soongyoug takes a big step back, a smile beaming across his face.
Vernon shifts his bag higher on his shoulder, already slipping back into work mode now that he’s inside. “So Soonyoung, we should probably redo that interview.”
Soonyoung blinks. “Redo?”
“Yeah,” Vernon nods. “And I’m also grabbing Jihoon this time.”
At the mention of Jihoon, Soonyoung immediately makes a face. “Why him?”
“Because,” Vernon says patiently, “he answers questions like a normal human being.”
“I answer questions!” Soonyoung protests.
“You said your main musical influence was ‘a noise in your brain,’” Vernon deadpans.
“That’s real!” Soonyoung insists, turning to you for backup. “You get it, right?”
You hesitate.
“…Conceptually.”
Vernon cuts in. “So I’m talking to you again, and then I’m talking to Jihoon so I can get at least one quote my editor won’t think is fake.”
Soonyoung crosses his arms for all of two seconds—
Then immediately drops them, already over it.
“Fine. I’ll answer them better this time. Come on, let’s do it now before I forget what I was going to say.” He gives Vernon a fake pout before immediately smiling and rushing towards Jihoon, leaving you behind.
And just like that—
You’re alone again.
Well.
Not alone.
The room hums with energy, people shifting, talking, waiting for the set to start. The lights are low, the air warmer than outside, buzzing with anticipation.
You shift your weight slightly, taking it in.
A voice cuts in beside you.
“Hey—uh, have you seen Soonyoung?”
You turn.
He’s already looking at you expectantly, slightly out of breath like he’s been making rounds. There’s an easy warmth to him—open expression, soft eyes, the kind of presence that doesn’t feel overwhelming, just… bright. You recognize him.
Not immediately by name—but by presence. The drummer. The one Vernon wouldn’t stop talking about on the walk home. Something about energy, timing, “actually carrying the set,”—you didn’t understand half of it, but you remember him.
“I was told he came this way,” he adds, glancing around before his eyes land back on you.
“Yeah,” you nod, grounding yourself. “He just got pulled into an interview.”
“Ah,” he laughs, easy and warm. “Yeah, that sounds right.”
There’s a small pause.
Then he straightens slightly, offering a smile that feels genuine without trying too hard.
“I’m Seokmin, by the way.”
You tell him your name, and something in his expression shifts—brightens, like it means something to him.
“Y/N,” he repeats, careful with it. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
You hesitate for half a second, then add, “I saw you at the last show.”
His brows lift slightly, pleasantly surprised. “Oh yeah?”
“My friend was reviewing it,” you explain. “He kept talking about the drummer on the way home.”
Seokmin blinks.
Then breaks into a grin—wide, a little bashful, but clearly pleased.
“Hopefully good things?”
“Very good things,” you say. “Something about you ‘carrying the set.’”
He lets out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s—wow. Okay. I’ll take that.”
There’s no ego in it. Just… genuine happiness.
It makes something in your chest loosen a little.
“Are you here with him again?” he asks, nodding toward the back where Soonyoung disappeared.
“Yeah,” you say. “He just got kidnapped for interview round two.”
Seokmin nods knowingly. “Yeah, Soonyoung gets excited about that stuff.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“He probably didn’t even let your friend finish a sentence.”
“He absolutely did not.”
That earns another laugh from him—easy, unforced. The conversation settles naturally after that.
He asks about your life and then proceeds to ask about Grad school. He asks about your program—not in a way that feels like small talk, but like he’s actually curious.
You answer, expecting the usual polite nods.
Instead, he listens. Fully. Asks questions that make sense. Reacts in a way that makes you feel like you’re not just filling space. And without realizing it, you start relaxing into it.
Talking more. Laughing a little.
Forgetting, briefly, to overanalyze every word coming out of your mouth.
It’s… comfortable.
“Hey,” he says, a bit softer. “This might be kind of bold.”
Your stomach flips slightly. “Oh.”
He smiles—just a little, like he knows how that sounded.
“But I think you’re really pretty,” he says, straightforward. “And I’ve been really enjoying talking to you.”
Your brain—
Fully short-circuits.
You just stare at him for a second, processing.
“…Oh,” you say again, quieter.
You can feel the heat rising to your face instantly, and this time there’s no pretending it’s not happening.
Seokmin notices—but doesn’t make a thing out of it. Doesn’t tease. Doesn’t push.
Just stays steady.
“I was wondering,” he continues gently, “if you’d want to hang out sometime. Somewhere quieter. So we can actually talk without yelling over music.”
You blink.
Because no one has ever asked you that so simply before.
No guessing. No weird tension. No games.
Just—
Honest.
You think about the past week—being stuck inside, buried in notes, pacing your apartment like you were slowly losing it.
You think about how easy this conversation felt.
How light it feels right now.
And how you don’t think you want it to end.
“I—” you start, then stop, letting out a small breath.
“…Yeah,” you say, a little surprised at yourself. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Seokmin’s face lights up immediately.
Not exaggerated—just real. Bright. Happy.
“Yeah?” he asks, just to be sure.
You nod, a small smile breaking through. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” he says, almost to himself, like he’s locking it in. “Cool.”
He lets out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck again. “I’m really glad I came looking for Soonyoung.”
You huff softly. “Me too.”
“Hey, Seokmin—”
The voice comes from just behind him.
Familiar.
You don’t even need to turn fully to know who it is—but you do anyway.
Jeonghan steps into view like he’s been there longer than he should’ve been. Calm. Collected. Like he didn’t just insert himself into the conversation with suspiciously perfect timing.
His eyes flick to Seokmin first.
Then to you.
And something shifts—just slightly—when they land. Not surprise.
Recognition.
“…Y/N,” he says, like he expected you to be here.
Your stomach does that same annoying flip again.
“Hi,” you manage.
Seokmin glances between the two of you, already picking up on something he doesn’t fully understand.
“Oh—you guys know each other?” he asks.
“A little,” Jeonghan answers before you can, tone casual. Easy. “Met outside last time.”
You nod. “Yeah. Briefly.”
“Oh,” he says. “Okay.”
Jeonghan shifts his attention back to him, like that part of the conversation is already over.
People get busy. Shows happen. Life moves fast. It’s not that deep. But then a few more days pass, and the silence stops feeling neutral and starts feeling pointed.
No text from Seokmin.
Not even a delayed “hey sorry I disappeared.”
Just… nothing.
Which would be fine, if you hadn’t said yes to hanging out. If there hadn’t been that moment—clear, simple, easy.
If Jeonghan hadn’t stepped in right after and somehow shifted everything without explaining a single thing he did.
That part sticks with you.
Not because you’re angry but because you’re confused in a way that keeps circling back on itself whenever you try to focus on anything else.
Right now, you’re in the public library, trying to study.
Keyword: trying.
Your notes are open in front of you, but your eyes keep drifting off the page. The words blur together until they don’t mean anything anymore.
You exhale sharply and push your laptop back a few inches.
“…This is ridiculous,” you mutter under your breath.
You shouldn’t care this much.
You barely know him.
And yet—
He asked you out.
Clearly.
And then just… nothing.
Your phone sits beside your notebook. You flip it over without thinking.
Stare at it.
Then your frustration wins before your logic can catch up.
You open your messages.
Y/n: did you ever tell seokmin anything
about me saying yes
to hanging out?
It feels blunt. Maybe too blunt, but you’re past carefully wording things at this point.
You hit send.
A few seconds pass.
Then your phone buzzes.
Jeonghan: no
You stare at the message.
Your chest tightens slightly—not dramatic, just that annoying sinking feeling of something clicking into place.
“…Right,” you murmur to yourself.
That explains it.
At least partially.
You lean back in your chair, looking up at the ceiling for a second before typing again.
Y/n: So he doesn’t know?
Jeonghan: no.
Of course he doesn’t know. Of course nothing moved forward. Of course it just… stopped in Jeonghan’s hands and never left them.
You decide to take matters into your own hands.
Y/n: I am not doing this over text.
Meet me at the library on Morgan Street, I’ll be here until 5.
Jeonghan: okay
You try—briefly—to go back to your notes.
It doesn’t work.
Your brain is too loud now and way too aware of everything you still don’t understand.
So you sit there.
Waiting.
Five minutes pass.
Then ten.
The library stays quiet around you—pages turning, soft footsteps, the distant hum of air conditioning—but your attention keeps snapping toward the entrance every time someone walks past your aisle.
You tell yourself you’re not impatient.
You are simply here to get answers.
Nothing more.
Then—
You see him.
Jeonghan steps into the library like he doesn’t belong in it, but also like he doesn’t care.
No stage energy. No cigarette smoke. No chaos.
Just… composed.
A little more put together than you’re used to seeing him. Hair beautiful, black and long, hitting his shoulders matching his black sweater and dark blue jeans.
His eyes scan the room once.
Then land on you.
A small smile.
He starts walking toward you without hesitation, weaving between tables quietly, like even his footsteps are aware of where he is.
He stops in front of your table.
“Hey,” he says softly.
You look up at him, arms still folded loosely over your notes.
“…Hi,” you reply.
He glances briefly at your setup. “You said you didn’t want to do this over text.”
“I didn’t,” you say. Then, sharper than you mean it to be: “And you were being weirdly vague.”
Jeonghan’s smile doesn’t disappear, but it shifts slightly—like he’s registering your tone without reacting to it.
“I was answering you,” he says simply.
“That’s not the same thing as explaining anything.”
He hums lightly, like he’s considering that.
Then, instead of arguing, he just pulls out the chair across from you and sits down.
Calm.
Like he has time.
Like he always has time.
And somehow—
That makes you even more annoyed.
You wait for him to say something first. You want him to say something first. He didn’t put you through days of waiting for you to get the first word in, the ball was in his court.
Though you want his voice to be the first to cut through silence, you both were getting nowhere sitting across from each other awkwardly looking up and down between the table and each other.
“So,” you say finally, keeping your voice low, “are you going to explain anything or just sit there looking mysterious in a public library?”
A faint exhale through his nose—almost a laugh.
Then he looks at you properly.
“I was jealous,” he says.
“…What?”
Jeonghan doesn’t repeat it like he regrets it. Doesn’t soften it either.
“I was jealous,” he says again, a little slower this time, like he’s making sure you actually hear it. “Of Seokmin asking you to hang out.”
That is not the answer you were expecting.
You lean back slightly in your chair, searching his face like there’s going to be a second explanation hidden somewhere behind it.
“…You were jealous,” you repeat, quieter now.
“Yes.”
That simple.
Then let out a short, disbelieving laugh under your breath.
“I did not expect to see an earnest side of you,” you say.
His eyes flicker slightly at that, like he’s registering the word.
“Earnest?” he repeats.
“Yeah,” you nod, still a little stunned. “This is… very straightforward for someone who has been speaking in riddles for the past few weeks.”
“I’m not usually like that,” he says.
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s accurate.”
You hum, crossing your arms a little tighter.
“So what,” you say, tilting your head, “you just decided to sabotage my conversation instead of, I don’t know, talking like a normal person?”
His gaze holds yours.
“…Yes,” he says again.
You blink, then laugh again, this time louder. It slips out before you can stop it.
“Are you hearing yourself right now?”
A couple of heads turn from nearby tables, while a sharp shush cuts through the air.
“Excuse me—quiet please.”
You immediately press your lips together, eyes widening slightly.
“Sorry,” you whisper, still clearly trying not to smile.
Jeonghan leans forward slightly.
“So,” he says, quieter now, “you think it’s funny.”
“I think,” you say carefully, “that you’re kind of insane.”
“That’s fair,” he says, a light smile forming on his face.
Then, after a beat, his voice drops a little along with the previous smile.
“I didn’t like it,” he says, quieter now. “Seeing him talk to you like that.”
You study him for a second.
Then lean forward slightly, resting your elbow on the table.
“So what now?” you ask.
He doesn’t hesitate.
“I’d like to take you out,” he says simply.
You blink.
“…Out.”
“Yes.”
“Like—away from the library you just got us shushed in?”
A faint smile again.
“Preferably somewhere louder than this,” he says. “So I can explain it properly.”
You lean back in your chair again, looking at him like you’re trying to decide if he’s serious or just consistent in being unpredictable.
“…Coffee?” you ask.
“That works,” he says.
A pause.
Then, softer:
“If you’ll let me, pretty girl.”
“Yeah,” you say quickly, extremely flustered by his statement. Then, realizing how immediate that sounded, you add, a little more carefully, “I mean—okay. Yes, then coffee is fine then, perfect.”
“So,” you say, trying to regain control of your own brain, “you’ve successfully disrupted my entire study session, confessed to jealousy, and invited me out.”
He hums lightly. “Accurate summary.”
You squint at him. “You’re proud of that, aren’t you?”
“And if I was?” A faint smile tugs at his mouth again.
You open your mouth to argue—but nothing comes out immediately, because he’s still looking at you like you are the only person on the earth.
“Okay, okay—go,” you say. “I need to study. You’ve done enough emotional damage for one library visit.”
He stands up, taking his time. Acting as if he isn’t in a rush. Why would he be? He met you on a whim 10 minutes after you texted him.
Before he turns away, he glances down at you again.
“See you, pretty girl.”
The ‘pretty girl’ comment again. It’s casual, almost absent-minded.
“Okay—no,” you say quickly, pointing vaguely at him as your face heats up. “Don’t do that. Don’t—don’t call me that and then leave.”
His brows lift slightly.
Too amused.
“You said go.”
“I meant go, not—” you gesture helplessly, “not that.”
He just smiles.
Worse.
“Noted.”
And then he actually turns and walks away.
The rest of your study session was full of a constant back and forth battle in your brain over note taking and reserving a side-section of your brain for Jeonghan.
You try to focus even harder than before, but you fail immediately.
Because now your brain is doing something extremely unhelpful.
Replaying everything.
Seokmin’s smile. Seokmin’s warmth. Seokmin asking so gently.
And then—
Jeonghan.
Jeonghan interrupting. Jeonghan answering too little. Jeonghan showing up anyway. Jeonghan saying your name like it meant something he wasn’t fully saying out loud.
You sink back into your chair slightly.
“…Oh,” you murmur to yourself.
It clicks in a way that makes your stomach twist.
It wasn’t just that Seokmin was nice.
He was nice. Easy. Safe in a way you didn’t have to think too hard about.
But Jeonghan—
Jeonghan made you think.
Made you question. Made you wait for answers instead of receiving them.
There was an edge to him. A pause in everything he said that made your brain work harder than it should’ve.
And somewhere along the way—
You started leaning into that.
You liked Seokmin… Or… you liked the idea of him.
Simple. Warm. Clear. Straightforward
But Jeonghan?
You lean forward slowly, staring at your notebook like it might explain you back to yourself.
Jeonghan makes your stomach do that annoying, traitorous flip every time he says your name. His voice sticks in your head longer than it should.
Jeonghan feels like something you can’t quite get a straight answer from—and somehow that makes you want to stay in it longer.
“…That’s really inconvenient,” you whisper, shaking your head to yourself.
A few days pass in a strange kind of rhythm. You are no longer left in a world of silence.
Random texts that come in at inconvenient times and linger in your head longer than they should.
Nothing dramatic.
Just small pieces of conversation that feel casual on the surface—but never really are.
Jeonghan: you studying
Y/n: trying
Jeonghan: that sounded sad
Or:
Y/n: i think your friend hates me
jeonghan: which one
Y/n: Soonyoung, probably
Jeonghan: He doesn't matter, and I promise, he really does like you.
But now somehow, today is the day.
You are going out with Jeonghan.
Which is why you are currently standing in your room staring at your reflection like it has personally betrayed you.
“This is insane,” you mutter to Vernon, who is sprawled out on your bed staring at the ceiling.
You adjust your shirt.
Change your mind.
Change it again. And again, and again, and again.
Vernon sighs, “It’s just coffee.”
“It’s not just coffee.”
“It is literally just coffee.”
You glare at him through the mirror.
He raises his hands slightly. “Okay, correction. It’s coffee with a man you’ve been spiraling about for a week.”
“That’s worse.”
He leans back slightly. “You’re overthinking it.”
“I’m not overthinking it.” A Pause. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admit. You let out a frustrated breath. “He’s just—he’s weird.”
“Yeah,” Vernon agrees immediately.
“And annoying.”
“Yeah.”
“And he says things like ‘pretty girl’ and then just walks away like it’s nothing.”
Vernon pauses.
“…He said what?”
You wave a hand. “Not the point.”
He stares at you for a second, then sighs again and leans back on his hands.
“Look,” he says, tone softer now, “you don’t have to solve it tonight.”
“I’m not trying to solve it.”
“You’re literally spiraling.”
“I’m preparing.”
“For what?”
“Exactly Vernon!” You turn away from the mirror to now look at him. “For fucking what! I don’t fucking know what he wants from me! He drives me fucking crazy!”
Your phone buzzes from where it sits charging on your nightstand.
Jeonghan: I’m going to start heading to the coffee shop.
“Fuck dude, I have to go.” You rush towards your closet to grab your purse after you settled on a simple black off the shoulder short sleeve and jeans.
Vernon watches you like he’s witnessing something irreversible.
“You will do great,” he says flatly. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
You grab your keys, shove them into your bag, and head for the door.
The walk feels too long and too short at the same time.
Every step forward is another second closer to something you can’t fully name, and your brain is doing absolutely nothing to help you regulate that information.
You replay everything.
His texts.
His voice.
“Pretty girl.”
You almost physically shake your head like you can dislodge the thought.
The coffee shop comes into view.
You stop outside for half a second.
Inhale… Exhale.
“…It’s just coffee,” you whisper to yourself, but it doesn’t feel like just coffee. Not anymore.
You push the door open, as a soft bell chimes.
Warm air, faint smell of espresso, low hum of conversation.
Your eyes scan automatically—and land on him.
Sitting at a table slightly off to the side, relaxed like he’s been waiting without impatience. Elbow resting on the table, posture loose, head tilted slightly as he looks up at the sound of the door.
And when he sees you—
That same small smile appears. The same small smile you saw him show at the library, the same small smile you saw when you took the hit of his cigarette a few weeks ago.
“Hey,” he says.
You walk toward him, suddenly very aware of your heartbeat again.
“Hi,” you manage.
He watches you get closer, eyes flicking over you once—not obvious, not slow enough to be rude, but enough that you notice anyway.
“You made it,” he says.
“You texted me like ten minutes ago,” you reply.
He hums lightly. “Still. You look very nice.”
“…Thanks,” you say, a little too quickly.
He taps his fingers lightly on the table once.
“You’re nervous,” he says.
It’s not a question.
You immediately straighten. “I’m not nervous.”
His brows lift slightly.
You sigh.
“…Okay, I’m a little nervous.”
“Why?”
You look at him, because that’s the problem. You don’t actually know what this is going to become.
“I don’t know what you’re like in situations where you’re not being weird on purpose.”
That makes him pause.
“That’s fair,” he says.
Then, softer, a little teasing again:
“I can be normal.”
You squint at him. “That didn’t sound convincing.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
That makes you huff a laugh despite yourself.
“Relax,” Jeonghan says, leaning over the table a bit more than before.
You raise a brow. “That’s not very helpful.”
“I know,” he says. “But you’re still here.”
The conversation was light, chatting about your lives. How Jeonghan met his bandmates in undergrad, how it was actually Jihoon’s idea to start a hardcore band.
You talked more in depth about grad school, about how you grew up so close to the city that going to undergrad and grad school here felt normal.
His tone was balanced, kind, warm, but in his own manner, a very Jeonghan tone of voice. It was incredibly hard to read.
Eventually, your cups are empty.
You turn yours in your hands, then glance at him.
“This is officially the longest and I think the only date I have ever been on,” you say.
Jeonghan tilts his head slightly. “Is that a bad thing?”
You think about it.
“…No,” you admit. “Just an observation.”
You hesitate, then add, a little dryly, “I feel like I might need a cigarette after this though.”
That earns a small giggle from him.
“I’ve got some,” he says casually.
You blink. “Of course you do.”
He stands up first, already grabbing both cups. “Come on.”
You follow him out without thinking too hard about it.
The air outside is cooler again, the street quieter than the café. The sun had set while you were beginning to close things off inside the cafe. He leads you just a few steps over—back into a narrow alley tucked between buildings.
And suddenly—
It feels familiar. The brick walls. Dim lights. That same strange stillness. Like the night everything started.
You lean back against the wall beside him without really deciding to.
Jeonghan lights a cigarette, same calm motion as before, like it’s muscle memory. The small glow of the lighter briefly catches his face before he flicks it shut.
He exhales slowly. Then looks at you.
There’s a beat where neither of you speaks. He passes you the cigarette.
“You’re different like this,” he says.
You glance at him. “Like what?”
“Relaxed,” he replies.
You scoff lightly. “I’m not relaxed. I’m just… processing.”
“That still counts.”
You roll your eyes. “You’re weirdly observant for someone who acts like he’s not paying attention.”
“I’m always paying attention,” he says simply.
That makes something in your stomach twist slightly.
You take a slight hit of the cigarette, passing it back to him.
He takes another drag, eyes still on you.
“I know I say it all the time, but you are confusing and it drives me insane.” You say bluntly, wind messing up your hair.
He hums, then smirks. “Am I?”
“Yes.”
“That sounds like your problem,” he says.
You laugh once—short, disbelieving. “No, it’s your problem, actually.”
He raises a brow slightly. “How so?”
“Because you’re—” you gesture vaguely at him, frustration creeping in now, “you’re acting like this is normal. Like you talking to me like this is just… casual. Like you’re not—”
You stop.
Because you don’t know how to finish that sentence without sounding ridiculous. You feel your heart race out of your chest, everything you have been feeling the past two weeks beginning to want to break free.
Then, softly:
“Not what?”
You shake your head slightly. “Never mind.”
All the half-looks. The way he keeps showing up. The way he keeps choosing to stay in the conversation instead of leaving it.
You let out a frustrated breath.
“Snap out of it,” you say suddenly, sharper than before.
He blinks once. “Out of what?”
“This,” you gesture between you. “Whatever this is. Because it doesn’t make sense.”
Jeonghan studies you for a second.
Then he takes one last drag, exhales slowly, and flicks ash away.
“You think I’m not serious?” he asks.
“I think—” you start, then stop, shaking your head again. “I think someone like you doesn’t just—decide to be interested in someone like me.”
The words land heavier than you meant them to. His expression doesn’t change drastically.
“Someone like me?” he repeats.
You cross your arms tighter. “You know what I mean.”
“I don’t think I do,” he says, dropping the cigarette on the ground and stomping it out as he takes a few steps closer to you, to the brick wall you are leaning against.
“You’re telling me to snap out of it,” he continues, “because you think I’m not allowed to want you.”
Your breath catches slightly.
He steps even closer, closer than you have ever been before. You can smell the smoke on his breath, lingering on his clothes.
“Or,” he adds, voice quieter now, “you’re the one who doesn’t want to believe I do.”
You let out a small, shaky breath, unsure of what to say.
Jeonghan doesn’t move away.
“I just—” you start, then stop immediately, shaking your head like you can physically reset your thoughts. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” he asks in basically a whisper now.
You open your mouth, yet nothing comes out. He’s too close for you to form any thoughts, other than the fact that you know you want him, and he called you out on it.
You finally form words, “I don’t know what you’re doing,” you try again, but it falls apart halfway through. “Or why you’re—why you’re like this with me.”
Jeonghan smiles at you, tilting your chin up so you can lock eyes with him.
Your breath catches immediately.
“Then stop thinking,” he says quietly.
You don’t have time to process before your eyes are closed and your lips are pressed to his. It feels as if everything went still.
He pulls back just slightly—barely enough to break the kiss, not enough to break the closeness.
His eyes are on you immediately, hungry, waiting to see what you have to say.
Jeonghan’s gaze softens slightly.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
Two words, those two words, were enough to break you.
Saying nothing, your hand comes up to the neckline of his shirt and you pull him back in, harder this time, like you had been waiting for this.
Jeonghan makes a quiet sound of surprise against your mouth—barely there—but then he’s already responding, hand sliding back to steady you against the wall again as the distance disappears completely.
It’s not gentle now. It’s real in a way that feels like it’s been building since the first time he said your name in that alley outside the bar.
Your thoughts scatter completely, his hand at your waist, the press of him against you, the way he doesn’t pull away even when you’re the one who started it.
When you finally break for air, it’s only because you have to.
Your breath comes out uneven. So does his.
This is the first time you have ever seen him less composed.
After weeks of feeling like you were going crazy because of him, you feel like you have finally gotten to him this time.
“…Okay,” he murmurs, almost like he’s amused.
“Can we please go back to my apartment?” you ask, voice steadier than you feel, though your grip betrays you entirely.
His eyes flick to yours.
Then down to your hand.
Then back up.
A pause.
His hand slides from your cheek slowly, not leaving you entirely—just shifting down to catch your hand instead.
The walk back feels unreal in a way you don’t know how to explain.
The city is darker now, softened by streetlights that spill across the sidewalks. The noise of everything feels far away, like you’re moving through a version of the world that doesn’t quite belong to anyone else.
Jeonghan walks beside you like he’s always been there, your fingers threaded together.
Every few minutes, one of you slows down without saying anything. You turn slightly, he does too, and suddenly you’re kissing, pressed against a wall or tucked into the shadow of a building or just standing too close in the middle of an otherwise empty stretch of sidewalk.
By the time your building comes into view, your pulse has stopped behaving like something that listens to reason. You don’t even think before pulling him inside.
You unlock your bedroom door, and push it open. There’s a shape still in your bed, the same as it was when you left. Blanket half-dragged onto the floor, one arm flopped over the edge.
“Vernon,” you say, dangerously calm.
No response.
You walk further in.
“Vernon.”
You stare at him for one more second.
Then inhale sharply.
“VERNON.”
“What—”
“If you’re going to sleep,” voice rising, “you need to do it on the couch!”
“…why are you yelling like that?”
You point towards Jeonghan, who is leaning up against the doorframe of your bedroom.
“…wait, is that Jeonghan?”
You close your eyes.
Jeonghan, completely unhelpful, raises a hand in a lazy little wave.
“…Oh,” he says.
“Yes… okay—bye! To the living room you go!” You point towards your bedroom door. Vernon wraps your blanket around him as he brushes past Jeonghan to enter the living room.
“Be… safe.” He sleepily mutters before Jeonghan softly closes the bedroom door behind him.
Things with Jeonghan became steady after that. Coffee turns into dinner. Dinner turns into “just come over for a bit.” “A bit” turns into late night stays and him stealing your hoodie and refusing to give it back because he likes to smell you “at all times.”
Vernon gets kicked out. A lot.
“Do you two even get any sleep when you stay over?,” he jokes to Jeonghan one morning after crashing on your couch, standing in your kitchen while you’re making coffee as Jeonghan leans against the counter playing with your hair.
“You could leave,” Jeonghan suggests mildly.
“I live here emotionally,” Vernon replies.
You don’t even argue anymore.
And then it’s one of Jeonghan’s shows. You’re standing near the front of the crowd this time when the set ends, lights still warm, noise still ringing in your chest.
The band is breathless, laughing, drenched in sweat and energy. Soonyoung obviously being the loudest of them all.
“THANK YOU EVERYONE—YOU’RE INSANE—WE LOVE YOU—”
Jeonghan barely says anything.
He’s already looking for you.
He hops down from the stage as soon as the set is up, weaving through equipment and crew, ignoring Soonyoung following behind him.
He gives you a kind kiss along with a “thank you for coming” when you are greeted with Soonyoung's kind… kind voice from behind.
“EWWW,” he yells. “GET A ROOM—WE JUST FINISHED A SET!”
Jeonghan doesn’t even look back, he just exhales a quiet laugh against your forehead.
After the chaos settles a little, you find yourself near the side of the venue.
That’s when Seokmin approaches.
He’s still warm from the stage too, smile easy but softer now, more familiar.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” you reply, a little surprised but glad to see him.
There’s a brief pause—comfortable, not awkward.
Then he scratches the back of his neck.
“I am really sorry about all of the confusion.” He explains.
Seokmin glances briefly toward where Jeonghan is talking to the others, then back to you.
“I asked you out because I thought you were really cool,” he admits. “And I still think that. But after we talked… when Jeonghan came to me.”
A pause.
“He said he was kind of into you. Like… really into you, and wanted to hang out with you. And I didn’t want to mess that up for him,” he says simply. “He’s my friend. And honestly… it was pretty obvious once he started acting like that around you.”
You let out a small breath, half laugh, half disbelief.
“That man is impossible,” you mutter.
Seokmin smiles. “Yeah. But I know you could probably deal with impossible.”
And when you look back toward Jeonghan again—
He’s already looking at you, like he never stopped.
You lock eyes with him giving him a soft smile and little wave, he returns the gesture.
And like that, everything has seemed to fall into place for the first time in your life.
synopsis ➠ he has lured your brother into his hellish cult. it is up to you to save him—only if you can save yourself first. because jeonghan has his eyes on you, and he will get you. and break you, eventually.
pairing ➠ cult leader!jeonghan x librarian female!reader
genre ➠ dark romance, thriller, smut, small town au.
word count ➠ 10.3k + 1k (patreon bonus)
warnings ➠ READ CAREFULLY ! cults, mention of blood, cultist activities like seance, sacrifice, etc., drinking, cursing, stalking, severe manipulation, gaslighting, blasphemy, propaganda?? brainwashing, cursing, drinking, huge betrayal, unresolved trauma, mention of murder, muder attempt, fingering in a confession booth, dubcon ig? fingering, hickeys, nipple play, edging, orgasm denial, use of pet names, pussy eating, female degradation(slut, whore), hand necklace, sadism and masochism, big dicc jh, rough sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, sex in a church, slapping, spitting, multiple orgasms.
a/n: this fic contains blasphemous themes, so please do not interact if uncomfortable. it also contains inaccurate descriptions of catholic systems, so please do not take this seriously. it is a work of fiction!
His eyes are unbelievably kind for someone so…despicable.
From behind a tree, you observe him, how he kneels down to talk to an older couple, giving them a brochure while explaining something with gestures — all smiles.
You hold your breath, your hands fisted at your sides.
The man —Yoon Jeonghan —runs a cult.
You would not have believed it, you had not, in fact, until yesterday. Your brother has been acting suspiciously for a while now, coming home late, not attending his classes, always keeping the door to his room locked, avoiding you—the list goes on. Yesterday was the tipping point. It was your mother’s death anniversary and when he was yet to show up after midnight, you decided to break into his room with the spare key.
Maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t, because that would let you continue to live your life in the shelter of ignorance. The evidence was bright and shining, pictures of animal sacrifice, blood pacts, your documents and contracts stating your brother’s allegiance to some institution and its temple, weird robes and hats and whatnot.
Sure, you have been hearing the rumours for a long time, ever since you moved in here two years ago, to be precise. This is a small town, consisting mostly of old people. Nothing really happens here—no events, no tourists. Just everyone minding their business, which is one of the reasons why you decided to move here with your brother.
You needed the quiet, the lack of attention. Sure, you had to leave your comfortable job as a university teacher in the city. But you wanted the peace over the money. For you and your brother. A place where no one would recognize you and let you be.
And everything was going well. You have secured a job at the local library as the head librarian and the bookkeeper, while your brother attends the community college. The pay is a downgrade from your previous job, but with the low living costs here, you two have been getting by comfortably.
Until this happened.
How did your brother fall into this scheme?
“Isn’t he the sweetest?” A woman’s voice drags you out of your thoughts. You turn around to find Jieun, a middle-aged lady who manages this hospice. “He has been volunteering here regularly for a while now.”
You blink, unable to find a sober reply to her words.
“You should join us sometime.” She offers. “Bring your brother with you as well. What was his name again?”
“Chan.” You mutter.
“Right! Little Channie. How is he doing?”
“Good.” You whisper, eyes going back to Jeonghan, who is now pushing a woman in a wheelchair back inside.
“How long has he been living here, in this town?” You ask with a quick jut of your chin, trying your best to seem nonchalant.
“Hmm, I don’t know.” She ponders for a second. “It has been about seven or eight years, I guess. He has been a gem for this town, you know? Such a gentleman. Very reliable too.” She goes on and on about his qualities, which you tune out, your eyes intently set on the hospice building, waiting to catch a glimpse of him.
“You know, aunty,” you cut her off, staring at her with your most unimpressed look. “I used to think the same about him. Until I heard what he has been doing around town.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“He runs a cult.” You state, looking her dead in the eye. Jieun’s face morphs, changing into a look of disapproval, borderline disgust. “You should not believe everything you hear, young lady.”
“What if I saw it with my own eyes?”
She pauses. In a dark, menacing tone, she says, “He has done a lot for us. He always has our best interests at heart. I do hope you remember that.”
Without another word, she marches off, leaving you feeling jittery. You take a second to gather your thoughts and when you look back at the hospice building, Jeonghan stands in the front, looking right at you.
You jolt, unnerved by his blank but piercing gaze, shivers going down your spine. He stands as still as a statue, his face devoid of anything human, his eyes focused on you, in a way as if he can see inside your mind, read the thoughts you are having.
You are short of breath. Jeonghan seems to have that effect on you.
—
You have had quite a few interactions with Jeonghan before.
He would come by the library often, borrowing books every two weeks or so. Art, philosophy, history, religion—he read it all. You looked forward to seeing him. Probably because he possessed an undeniable charm, his outgoing, flirty personality and his effortlessly good looks did make you feel something harmless in your belly. But also because you had intelligent conversations with him, though brief, for a minute or two, reminding you of your old life. There were not a lot of young people around, and those who were around were not the most interested in your interests. Nerdy interests, as your brother liked to put it.
Jeonghan never asked too many questions, never misbehaved, never acted weird. Nothing to hint that he is running a literal cult behind the scenes. But now that you know his true self, you realize you always thought there was something peculiar about his gaze. Something sinister. Something dark and depraved always lingered in his eyes whenever he looked at you — his ever-present smile never really reaching his eyes.
Was he feeling you out? Trying to understand if you would be a good victim? Were you too smart for him? Is that why he went after your brother and not you?
Thoughts of all sorts plague your mind as you sit on your couch and stare mindlessly at the TV, a glass of wine swirling in your hand.
It is almost twelve at midnight and your brother is yet to return home. It feels like one of those days where he will not, in fact, come home at night. He has started doing this lately, not coming home at night and every time you have confronted him, it has led to arguments only.
“I stay at a friend’s house, okay? He is really nice. I like to stay over there.” This was all he said. You have a growing feeling that the friend he talks about is Jeonghan. You heard he lives near the church in a two-storey house. For a moment, you consider going over there and demanding to be let inside but give up on that plan.
You do not want to give Jeonghan the idea that you know what he is doing. No, you want to keep playing oblivious, acting like usual with him. Maybe you should play the damsel in distress? That should get you his attention and maybe even bring you into his clique of goat-worshipping people. After all, cult leaders love to prey on vulnerable people.
Though you have not thought this plan through. You are yet to figure out what you will do after you join his cult. Calling the police does not feel like the best option, so you are left with making the evidence public. Maybe you could film something or take pictures and upload them to social media? That would at least garner attention and bring some people into town to see things for themselves. That would force Jeonghan to hide or relocate, no?
You take a sip of wine, swirling the liquid in your mouth before switching off the TV. It is a quarter past twelve now.
You pad over to the window with your glass, mindlessly moving aside the curtain and gazing out. The street is dark and lifeless, the faint yellow glow of the streetlamp making it appear even more haunting. It takes another second for you to process that someone is standing outside.
On your lawn.
You choke on your breath, instinctively stepping away from the window.
Fuck. You swear someone is standing outside— not an apparition but something real. It could not be a hallucination, right? Setting the glass down, you reach for the curtain once more with shaky hands. Moving it aside a couple of inches, you peer outside, and the hairs on your neck stand upright.
Yes, someone is outside, standing still on your lawn. Someone who is wearing a red cloak, the hoodie covering their face. It is bone-chillingly eerie, the way the figure stands so very still. Just as you are debating calling the police, the figure slowly starts walking.
Thankfully, away from your house. The figure slowly walks back onto the street, their steps leisurely, almost looking like they are floating with the way the red cloak drags against the road.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You slump down on the floor, your heart racing in your chest, perspiration beading down your temples.
What has your brother gotten himself into?
—
“I am going to the mass,” Chan announces as he walks past you to get to the kitchen counter and pours himself a glass of orange juice.
You set your phone and close the notebook you had in front of you — littered with your notes about cults — and turn around to stare at your brother.
“You are going to church?” You cannot hide the incredulity in your voice.
“Yes.” He continues drinking his juice without turning around.
Chan was never religious—no one in your family was. So this sudden interest in church makes you alarmed.
“Did Jeonghan convince you to go?”
Your brother finally turns around and regards you with a quizzical look, as if he is surprised to hear his name from your mouth. For a long few seconds, he stares at you before saying matter-of-factly, “Jeonghan is leading the sermon today.”
Right. You have heard that he leads Sunday sermons sometimes.
Chan walks past you, heading for the door. In a split second, you make a decision. “Give me five minutes to get ready. I will come with you.”
—
As you expected, the church is crowded.
The sermon is about to start when you step in with your brother. The two of you take a seat at one of the back pews. It has been a long, long time since you have been inside a church, so you feel slightly out of place—eye skirting around the crowd before landing at the very front, at the altar, which is graced by Jeoghan.
Dressed in a white robe with intricate gold details, he is the picture of holiness, an image of purity in front of the crucifix. The fabric falls in clean lines to his ankles, bright against the darker wood of the altar around him. Thin gold embroidery runs along the edges and cuffs, and a narrow stole hangs straight from his shoulders, its trim catching the daylight streaming through the high windows. All smiles and bows, he greets everyone, his eyes scanning the room before finally spotting you at the back.
Your breath hitches as his eyes lock with yours.
You swear the look in his eyes shifts. The earlier kindness and light seem to disappear, taken over by something dark — the look of a predator about to devour his prey. The smile is still there, ever-present but your body remains tense, heart galloping under his ruthless gaze.
Suddenly, you are transported to last night, standing at the window and looking at the figure standing in your lawn. The longer you look at Jeonghan, the more you have a sinking feeling that it was him. You have no proof, just a sinking, suffocating feeling in your gut, alarm bells going off in your head in full volume.
The sermon starts. And ends. Everything is a blur for you. Jeonghan’s voice, the hums of the prayers, the sunlight seeping through the antique windows—everything is suffocating.
The more you look around you, the realization strengthens. Maybe this entire town is in the cult. They are all a part of a bigger conspiracy, of which you and your brother are victims. You have seen the movies, read the books. Someone is always the sacrifice. Maybe this time, it is you.
“Noona?” Chan’s voice jolts you back to reality. He is standing up, looking down at you with annoyance, “What are you thinking so hard about?”
“Huh?”
You look around and see people walking out of the church. Right. The show is over.
“Sorry,” you murmur, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder. You step towards the door with Chan trailing after you, until a voice calls out, “Chan!”
You stop in your tracks, not turning around immediately.
It is Jeonghan. You need to get your head in the game.
Turning around, you find him jogging towards you two, his expression cheerful. He pats your brother’s shoulder, all smiles, “So glad you joined us today. Hope I did not bore you.”
Your brother chuckles, “Not at all, hyung. It was inspiring.”
“Very happy to hear that.” Jeonghan ruffles his hair before glancing at you. “I see you brought your sister today.”
“Yeah, she wanted to come along.”
“The more the merrier.” He flashes a dashing smile at you. “I hope it was bearable for you.”
Your heart races, whether from the nerves or his smile, you are unsure. “I enjoyed it. As Chan said, it was inspiring.” You smile, doing your best to appear docile and pliant, hoping he does not see through your lie.
“I am flattered.” He puts a hand on his heart and does a curtsy. “I hope to see you around often.”
You smile. Suddenly, Chan’s phone starts ringing, and he excuses himself, leaving you alone with the devil.
But also giving you an opportunity.
You take a small step closer to Jeonghan, fidgeting with your fingers. “Um…how should I address you? Pastor? Father?”
His eyes shine. “Just Jeonghan is fine, ___. I just lead some sermons every now and then.”
It's unnerving, the way he says your name, voice dripping with an irresistible concoction of honey and poison. You hear your heartbeat in your ears. “I…want to share something with you.” You do your very best to appear vulnerable and hesitant, like you are letting him in on a special secret. “I hope you will keep it a secret. It is regarding my brother.”
He comes one step closer, just enough for you to feel the warmth radiating off him, and the subtle smell of his cologne tickling your nose. “What is it?”
“Uh,” you look around the empty church before locking your eyes with his. “I think he has gotten into some sort of cult.”
You swear his eyes flash. Dangerously. “What? Really?”
You nod. “He is always out and I found some things in his bedroom. Pictures of…rituals.” You remain cautious, not to mention the documents you found with Jeonghan’s name clearly written in them.
“That’s concerning. Have you talked to him about it?” He sounds genuinely worried. And for a second, you second-guess yourself. What if it is Jeonghan? You actually have no definitive proof that it is him, just some hunch based on some floating rumours.
You shake your head.
“Would you like me to talk to him about it?” He asks, ever the gentleman. With his soft voice of concern, the grave expression on his face, and his white outfit, he is the picture of salvation. Once again, your heart acts up.
“I would really appreciate that.” You whisper, giving him your best doe eyes. Jeonghan nods, determined. You don’t miss the way his gaze shifts for a second, towards your chest. You wore this sundress on purpose today — pink and frilly, slightly low-cut, not too scandalous for the church, but showing just enough skin than you usually do.
“Thank you, Jeonghan.” You whisper.
“You are most welcome,” he pauses. This time, his gaze is unabashed as he takes a slow, thorough look from your chest to your face. “I will see you next Sunday?”
“Sure.”
“Good.”
—
For the next few days, Chan acts abnormally normal. He attends classes, returns home on time and even has dinner with you at the dining table.
As pleased as you are with this change, you also start feeling extremely confused. Have you truly gone paranoid? Did you misread something? Because what could be the reason behind this sudden change in Chan, if not Jeonghan counselling him?
However, something in you tells you that things are not as simple as they seem. Which is why, on Thursday night, when Chan announces after dinner that he is going to step out for a bit, you decide to trust your gut. You let him go without asking much, fully intent on following him.
He steps out of the house and after a few minutes, you do too, trailing after him while maintaining a safe distance. The streets are fairly empty, with a few cars going down the road, so there is no way for you to lose him.
Tonight has to be the night. You have second-guessed yourself enough, trapped in your confusion and Jeonghan’s manipulative charm, going round and round in search of the truth. That’s how cult leaders are—they play with your mind till it is broken. You need to see for yourself if it is truly him, and if it is, you are ready to document everything.
Chan continues walking, past the church and the slightly upper-class neighbourhood and into the small forest right at the outskirts of town. The deeper he goes into the forest, the bigger you create the distance between the two of you. You know there are people ahead. There is a constant hum of chatter and you see a glow of warm yellow light, which is of a fire, you realize once you are close enough.
It almost looks like a campfire. There are about thirty people gathered around it, looking like they are middle-aged or older. It seems harmless at first—just a bunch of people hanging around a fire until it does not. They start donning their robes, a black cloak, long and baggy, covering every inch of their skin. With the hoodie on, everyone becomes the same, and Chan is lost in the sea of faceless black.
You have yet to see Jeonghan, increasing your agitation. Would it even be possible to spot him in this crowd of people?
From your spot behind a pine tree, you shift, taking a few careful steps closer. With the looks of it, they seem to be preparing for a seance as one person starts lighting candles, placing them on the ground in the shape of a pentagon. Another person goes around the crowd, handing some sort of an item to everyone. A dagger? You cannot say for sure.
You start snapping pictures anyway.
In a few minutes, the preparation is done, and everyone stands in a particular formation, some at the points of the pentagon and others in a circle surrounding the pentagon.
And then, with your tension at its peak, finally, you are graced with the sight of him.
Yoon Jeonghan.
He appears from the other side of the forest, dressed in a red velvet cloak, standing out in the sea of black. Without the head cover on, you see his face, bright and clear and your heartbeat skyrockets. It was him last night in front of your house. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you hold the phone still, recording a video as he steps into the middle of the pentagon.
You are not close enough to hear what he is saying, but it seems to be the commencement of the seance, with the way everyone hangs on to his words.
The next few minutes are unnerving. They chant, they sing, their haunting echo of murmurs hanging in the air. You start to feel physically sick as a strong gust of wind flows by, as if something supernatural has arrived.
The fire burns stronger. The pages of a book they had open starts flapping. The unanimous voices grow louder. Until…they stop. Then, everyone pulls out a small dagger and, all together, slashes the palm of their hand, letting the blood gather onto what looks like a small earthen pot on the ground.
Shivers wrack down your spine. You have seen enough.
Soon, the crowd starts to break formation. You stop recording. They fall into a line behind Jeonghan, marching deeper into the forest.
You don’t move. You have seen enough for one night—if not your whole life.
With your heart shuddering in your chest and bile rising in your throat, you jog in the opposite direction, surrounded by weird noises of the night and rustles of leaves which sound like whispers of apparitions.
—
Two days later, you are back in the church with Chan.
The past two days have been tedious. After seeing everything firsthand, you had no desire to confront your brother, knowing full well it would go nowhere. You have also grown to be slightly afraid og him, of the new person he has become — unrecognizable and completely barren of all the childish glee you once associated with him.
You have not been in the best of health either, with a headache tormenting you every now and then. One of the reasons for that is Jeonghan. He has made a permanent home in your mind, plaguing your thoughts night and day, keeping you in a loop.
It is exhausting, frankly. You have grown to be almost apathetic, wishing you could just leave everything behind and drag Chan out of this place. You miss the days when he was a kid.
The sermon ends, and like the one before, you were too busy scowling at Jeoghan, thinking of all the ways you could crush him to the ground to pay any heed to the gospel.
Today, Jeonghan does not come to see Chan afterwards. Instead, he disappears amongst the crowd as they flow past you and out the door. Chan also leaves and you don’t bother stopping him, sitting silently at the pew and staring at the crucifix. The place suddenly seems haunted, an eerie quietness taking over the air, which was brimming with the murmurs of the crowd a few minutes ago.
Mindlessly, you walk towards the altar, taking in your surroundings carefully — from the statues and candlesticks to the Rose window, and the intricate details of the ceiling. As you turn back toward the entrance, a dark wooden confessional set into the side wall catches your eye — narrow and unobtrusive. Almost unconsciously, your feet carry you towards the booth and you hesitate for a second, your hands stopping an inch away from the door.
What are you doing here?
You glance above the confessional, and with no light glowing, you decide to step in and take a seat. Inside the cramped space, you remain frozen for a few moments, observing the silhouette of the figure on the other side of the screen.
“Peace be with you. You may begin when you are ready.” A quiet voice says from the other side.
“I…I don’t know what to say. It has been a while…” You whisper, fingers tightening on your lap, a part of you still wondering what possessed you to be here?
“What has been weighing on your heart? What ails you, my dear?”
You swallow, suddenly feeling emotional. Eyes focused on your shaky hands, you try to understand why you are so on edge. Was it only the recent events? Or was it the move in the first place? Or the fact that you had to leave behind a thriving job? Or the gruesome events that started this cursed chain in the first place?
You don’t know. The realization leaves you feeling helpless and frustrated. Your life has always been haunted — from the death of your mother when you were a child to the downward spiral of your father — everything has left you feeling bitter and exhausted. It is a bitter pill to swallow, bringing tears to your eyes.
All this struggle just to fail. You could not protect your brother. Maybe something is rotten in your blood—in this family’s blood.
Quiet sobs fill the confession booth. You try to stifle them, covering your mouth with your hands, only to realize, the harder you try, the louder they get. You were never the religious type. Neither was your father. The last time you stepped into a church before last week was when your mother was alive. You have never been inside a confession booth, but right now, this feels like the only place that is safe — that can ease your burdened heart.
Or so you thought.
The door on your side is suddenly pulled open. There stands Jeonghan, in all his evil glory. You yelp, springing up, “What are you doing? I am confessing!”
“You were taking a lot of time, so I came to see you.”
“Wait…” you gulp. “You were behind the screen? Are you even allowed to take confessions?”
He gives a noncommittal shrug, stepping into the booth. Your heart beats faster as he comes closer to you in the already limited space. Without any words, he reaches out to your face, wiping a teardrop with his thumb before licking it. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”
You swallow, “Stop this, please.” In an attempt to get away from him, you press yourself against the wall, but he only leans closer. Your clothes touch.
“Stop what?”
You inhale a shaky breath. “I know it is you.”
There is a dramatic shift in his gaze. You try to assure yourself that it is the lighting, but for a second, you swear his eyes go pitch black, a sadistic look taking over. His voice, however, remains as gentle as before. “What do you mean?”
“It was you!” You cry. “You were in front of my house the other night! You have lured my brother into your goddamn cult! It has been you this entire time.”
With a slow tilt of his head, he regards you with special care. The smirk on his lips grows centimeter by centimeter, “Oh, my sweet, poor child. It is okay. You are just stressed.”
Baffled at his audacity, at him cosplaying a priest, you gape at him and he gently cradles your head, pushing you towards his chest. Embracing you, he gingerly strokes the back of your head. Then, his demeanour shifts and with his lips against your ear, he whispers, “A smart little raven, aren’t you?”
You flinch away from him. The look on his face is the embodiment of evil, making you shiver from head to toe. He is the devil incarnate.
“I swear to God—”
“Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger against your lips and forcing you back into the wall, this time his body pressed against yours, effectively trapping you. “Hush, baby. It is okay. It will all be…okay.” He drawls, leaning towards your face. Taking you by sheer shock yet once again, he flicks out his tongue and drags it down your face, licking one side clean of all tears.
Your body reacts dangerously. You grow tense, your hands immediately forming fists, but a feeling blooms in your belly — something bordering on depravity and danger.
“You…” you grit your teeth, unable to find the right words. What can you do now? Scream? Cry? Slap him?
“Hush,” he shushes you again, holding his finger against your lip. “You are very stressed. So much so that you are imagining things. Let me help you out, hm?” His right hand touches your waist, before gently going south, feeling your thigh and then even lower. Grabbing onto your knee, he yanks your leg and wraps it around his waist, slipping his fingers under your skirt.
“You—” your voice is a mere squeak, mortified at what is happening. You are too stunned, barely even processing his actions.
“Be a good girl,” he hums, resting his face against yours, his lips almost touching yours but not quite, leaving the ghost of warmth lingering. You feel his hand cupping you underneath the skirt, fingers brushing over your panties before pushing them to a side. Then, he presses his thumb right where it throbs the most and your breath hitches.
“Jeonghan, please, stop—” he puts his palm on your mouth. Pushing you harder against the wall, he rests his body weight on top of you, slipping one finger inside you while his thumb rubs your nub. It is a shame to realize you are wet, and the feeling is amplified by the look of sheer victory on his face. His eyes sparkle like black diamonds, “My little raven is wet, isn’t she?”
“No, I am not!” is what you say, but that is muffled by his palm on your mouth. He tsks, giving you a scolding look. “Dirty girl, why are you all wet inside a confession booth, hm?”
His index finger moves in and out of you, making you shiver and whine, before he slips another finger inside you.
You don’t know what is wrong with you. He must have done something to you—yes, that is the only logical explanation. Your brain seems to have turned into mush, desire and a need for release overtaking every one of your senses until you are left as nothing but a needy mess. And the way he looks at you — looks through you unnerves you, taking your desire to new heights.
“Do you feel how wet you are?” He hums. “You are soaking, baby. Do you need me that much?” He grins, lips curving upwards to reveal his pearly whites. He has three fingers moving mercilessly inside you, while his thumb continues to torture your clit, which grows more and more sensitive. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, holding on for dear life while your toes curl in your loafers.
You are like a woman possessed. The only thing that you can think of — that matters right now is your release. And only he can give you that.
As if you were already not on edge enough, Jeonghan rests his head in the crook of your neck, his lips meeting your neck. He kisses and sucks, making his way upwards. “Does this feel good?” He whispers between kisses. Your answer, once again, remains muffled.
“I know it does,” he continues. “I can feel that way you are shaking. God, you are so perfect, aren’t you?”
His fingers push deeper inside of you, curling against your sensitive walls. You writhe and whimper against him, eyes rolling towards the back of your head as your vision starts to blur. You feel it coming — one more touch on your clit and you would be gone. It seems that he knows that too, which is why, suddenly, he pulls away from you, completely. His fingers pop out of your pussy, and he steps back from you, leaving you quivering against the wall, looking at him with the most pitiful eyes.
“Wait…no, please—” you pant, wild eyes gaping at him. No, please—what is he doing?
He smirks, making a sound of amusement and scoffing. Not breaking eye contact with you, he pops his fingers into his mouth and slowly, tantalizingly so, licks them clean. Then, he has the audacity to give you an innocent smile, “You are the sweetest, my raven. Absolute perfection.”
Pausing, he takes a look at your shaking legs. “I hope to see you again soon.”
Like a gust of spring breeze, he is gone, closing the door with a soft click.
—
The first thing you do after getting home is play with yourself.
You finally have your orgasm, but it feels nowhere near satisfactory, driving you to pure frustration. As you lie in your bed, staring at the ceiling, a haunting numbness engulfs you.
This feels like a losing game, going much farther than you had originally anticipated. You were supposed to get Chan out of this fucking mess, but now you are the one tangled deeper in it. For God’s sake, you were not supposed to let Jeonghan finger your pussy inside a church.
The memory makes heat rise to your face, and before you succumb to the endless pit of sinful temptation, you stop that thought.
It is time to make a decision.
—
That night, Chan returns home just after you finish dinner.
“Chan, come here.” You call out from the kitchen the moment he walks by. With a begrudging look on his face, he steps in while you finish doing the dishes. Inhaling a deep breath, you dry your hands and set the rag down before turning behind.
“We are leaving next week. Pack your things.”
He blinks. Slowly. For a moment, the only thing cutting through the silence is the ticking of the clock and the distant rumble of thunder outside.
“What did you say?”
“We are leaving.”
“What do you mean leaving?”
“It is exactly what you think. We are leaving this town. For good.”
He scoffs, raking a hand through his hair, “What the fuck are you talking about? Why would we leave? Did you get a new job or something?”
“It does not matter, Chan. I need you to pack your stuff.”
“Fuck no.” He hisses, eyes blazing.
“Excuse me?” You step closer to him.
“You are welcome to leave if you don’t like staying here. But I am not going anywhere. For fuck’s sake, I am an adult now. You cannot drag me wherever you please!”
Your nostrils flare. “Give me one good reason why you want to stay in this dead town.” You say quietly. Chan swallows, his defiant eyes locked with yours. Seconds tick by, and no response. You take another step closer to him. “Let me tell you why.” You come to a stand right in front of him. “Because you have been going around behind my back, joining fucking cults and doing god knows what in the dead of the night.” Your brother takes a step back, alarmed. You continue, seething, “Because you are enamoured by that fucking bastard Jeonghan. You hang onto his every word, going into the forest in the middle of the night, cutting your hand and making pacts. Do you think I am stupid? That I would never find out?”
A pause. Then he steps back, turning around as if he is done with this conversation.
“Don’t you dare walk away!” You cry. A thunder crashes nearby. “After everything I have done to protect you — after everything we have been through, how could you go and do something like this!”
“Exactly!” He yells, turning around. “After everything we have been through, this felt like the only right answer!”
“Have you lost your mind? Do you even know what you are saying?” You are incredulous.
“Oh, I am perfectly aware.” He grits his teeth, his face red, his eyes shining with unshed tears and anger. “You protected me? Don’t lie — you protected yourself. Everything you did, from all the lies to moving here, you did it to protect yourself and your reputation!”
You open your mouth to refute but his voice grows louder. “You were the one to turn away first. After everything happened, you treated me like a monster! It was you, not anyone else! You created a gap between us, avoiding me and then acting like everything was okay.”
“I did it to make you feel comfortable!”
“You made me feel like a monster! Like there was something actually wrong with me!” Chan starts pacing around, a hand grabbing onto his hair out of frustration. “Even after we moved here, you would go to the library early in the morning and come home late. You abandoned me. But it was with Jeoghan that I felt like I belonged.”
“You have lost your mind.” You whisper.
“So be it.” He seethes. “So what if I am in a cult? What is it to you? You made your decisions and I made mine. At least over there, I am not treated like a monster.”
“You are brainwashed.”
“Shut up!” He bellows. “Just shut up! You know nothing. You understand nothing. Over there, it is friendship, brotherhood, belonging.”
“Are you saying that you don’t belong here — with me? We are a family, for God’s sake.” You croak, tears gathering in your eyes.
He pauses. For a long moment, he gazes into your eyes. “It never once felt like home. Not with dad, not with you. But in that fucking cult, as you like to call it, it feels so.”
“Chan, please—”
“I am staying here.” He announces, stepping away. “And I am done talking to you. Don’t show me your face again.” He hisses before marching towards his room, shutting the door with a loud bang.
By now, it is pouring outside.
—
In the midst of the storm and the pouring rain, the church stands in all its glory, soft, warm light emanating from the windows. For a place so holy, it feels haunted, something eerie hanging in the air — the raindrops trickling down the structure, the spire shining even in the darkness of the night.
Standing in front of the towering architecture, you briefly wonder how you came to be here. After the argument with Chan, you stepped outside and, almost unconsciously, your feet had carried you here. Your mind draws a blank on the journey, as if you opened your eyes and were transported here from your kitchen.
What were you supposed to do again?
Ah, right.
You are here with a goal.
Soaked from head to toe, you push open the doors and step inside, the warmth of the air a sharp contrast against your sopping figure. You continue straight ahead, towards the altar, your footsteps leaving behind marks of water and a wet, squeaky sound. The man you are here for is right there.
What is this if not divine will?
Jeoghan, who was crouching at the altar, busy lighting candles, turns around and tilts his head in confusion. “When I said I would see you soon, I did not mean this soon.”
In silence, you continue your way towards him. He stands up, setting the candle down. His gaze shifts more towards concern than amusement as he takes in your drenched, dishevelled look.
“Are you okay?” He asks, inching towards you. Still silent, you march towards him, stepping into the altar and in the blink of an eye, you charge at him, the hand carrying the knife aimed straight at his heart. “I am going to kill you, you fucking lunatic!”
Jeonghan — as surprised as he is — catches your wrist in time, ensuing a struggle. You grit your teeth, using all your strength to try to accomplish your goal while he prevents you from doing so. With one hand, he holds your wrists away and uses the other to dig into your shoulder, pulling you downwards. Even in this dire situation, he has the balls to laugh. “Holy shit, baby. With all this bloodthirst, maybe you should have been a cult leader.”
“Shut up, you son of a bitch,” you seethe, trying your utmost best to push the knife into his chest using both hands. He, however, overpowers, pulling your wrist downwards — lower and lower — until it hurts so bad that you drop the knife.
Immediately, he kicks it away. With another cry of fury, you charge at him, this time aiming to wrap your hands around his throat. He, however, blocks your grip and smoothly grabs both of your hands, flipping you around, and pins them behind you. “As much as I love this crazy side of you, you need to stop, little raven,” he pants in your ear.
“You…” you inhale deeply, struggling to get free. “You are an evil, depraved man. You make me sick.”
“No, I don’t.” He announces, unfazed and calm. “I do not make you sick, ___. In fact, I make you curious. I intrigue you.” He pulls your body even closer, the wetness of your skin now soaking into his clothes. “I know you think about me. All the time. Especially at night.” His sultry voice drips into your ears, each slowly enunciated word making its mark on you. He uses a hand to lift your chin and make you look at him. The faint smile on his face grows bigger — slow but deliberate, like he has all the time in the world. His gaze lowers — tracing your quivering lips like he is memorizing every single fracture in your resolve.
You are gone. There is no escaping him. He is inside your head. He has been there for a while.
Still, you hiss. “I don’t.” Another attempt to free your wrists. “I swear to God, Jeoghan, I will kill you.”
“Oh, baby,” he shakes his head, “Have we not moved past that? You could never kill me. After all, who will make you cum when I am gone?”
“You—”
“Tell me, sweetheart, did you go home and touch yourself? Did it feel good? Did you wish it were me playing with you?”
“I didn’t, you asshole!”
He makes a sound of disapproval. “Does that mean, if I touch you between your legs now, I will not find you wet?” A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and you tell yourself it is because you got soaked in the rain. “Shall we check?” He hums lazily, slowly sneaking his hand towards the string of your trousers.
“Jeoghan, no—”
“Calm down, my raven.” He whispers in your ear. With the string undone, he easily shoves his hand inside, cupping you through your underwear.
“Jeoghan, please—” He pushes aside your panties and slips a finger in. And it is like a deja vu. Why do you always end up like this with him?
Against your ear, you feel him chuckle, “See? You are all bark and no bite.”
You shake, a feeling of frustration, disgust, anger and helplessness coursing through you at the same time, “You are disgusting. You are a filthy, wretched scum of the earth,” your voice comes out quiet and slightly breathless. They seem to carry some weight, however, as Jeoghan stops, his body tensing behind you.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me the first time.” You state, using the moment to push free from his grip and take a few steps back. He continues to regard you with a look of serious inquisitiveness.
“You are a coward. You prey on innocent, vulnerable people like my brother for your stupid fucking rituals and whatnot. God — do you not realize how pathetic you look?” You don’t hold back, letting the waves of anger wash over you. In silence, Jeoghan continues to watch you, his gaze calculating but somber. “You wound my feelings, you know.” He finally murmurs, his gaze drifting around the church, as if he is an inspector.
“Oh yeah? The truth is bitter, is it not?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “You are wrong about one thing, my raven. I do not prey on people.” He pauses, a dark, almost predatory glint appearing in his eyes. “I help them.”
You roll your eyes.
“I help people by giving them a place to belong. I hear them out. I listen to their stories and then offer them friendship and fraternity.”
“You manipulate them.”
“No.” He states, voice rising an octave. He is his usual composed self but you hear the grit and determination in his words. “I make them feel seen, heard, and understood.” A pause and a growing smirk. “Unlike you, who failed to do that with your brother.”
There is a sinking feeling in your stomach. “What did you just say?” Your voice is quiet.
He laughs, dragging his fingertips across the pews in careful observation. “After everything your brother went through…you should have taken better care of him, sweetheart.” His tone is loaded with mockery.
You stagger back a step, the air in your lungs completely dissipating. He takes another slow, relaxed step forward, “I mean, the poor kid killed his father. Can you imagine the trauma?” He shakes his head in a faux display of pity. The world has started to spin around you. “How…” you pant, suddenly not getting enough oxygen in your system. “H-how do you know about that?”
“Chan told me.” He shrugs.
“Lies!” You cry.
He stares at you — deadpan. You know it in the depths of your soul that he is indeed saying the truth, but it takes everything in you to come to terms with it. With the fact that your brother shared such a grave secret, and that too with Jeonghan. This diabolical man has you captive now — he had been for a while.
Oh God, please let this be a nightmare.
“He would never!” You bellow, voice shaking, tears brimming in your eyes. “He…he would never. He promised me.”
Jeoghan sighs dramatically, taking another step towards you while you take another one back. “It is a truly burdensome thing to keep to yourself, you know? And it is all good, it was ruled as self-defence.” He pauses. You interpret the look in his eyes as one of challenge. “You were the witness, after all. And he was still a minor. And your father had a long, infamous history of abuse.” He pauses and raises a fist towards his neck, “Gone with a stab in the neck. Bam!” He makes a gesture of a stab, the smirk in his face turning into a cruel grin. “I mean, he deserved it, after everything he did to you guys. Tell me — is it really true that your mother committed suicide because of him?”
Bile rises to your throat. Your nervous system is on the edge of shutting down, each word spilling from his mouth hitting your skin like acid. Suddenly, you feel useless and betrayed, your entire life feeling like a joke to you. Especially your life here in this town. It seems like you have been playing the role of a jester for Jeonghan for a while now.
Turns out, you are the pathetic one, not him.
Unable to shoulder the shock any longer, your knees give out. Falling onto the ground, you sit in a puddle of wetness and murmur, “How could he do that to me? How could he share those things with you? How could he?”
“I have that ability, you know. To make people say things. To make them confess. I could do that to you right now. Should I?”
His words fall on deaf ears as your frame continues shaking with sobs. Jeonghan takes slow, deliberate steps towards you, his footsteps leaving a haunting echo. “I already know what is in your heart.”
You remain mute, panting, tears streaming down your face.
“Should I say it for you, my raven?” He comes to a stand in front of you. Takes you in with dark eyes, in which a fire has been ignited, one of victory and possession. A soft hand brushes the hair away from your face before gently cupping the side of your face and tilting your head upwards. “You want me. You want to belong to me. You want me to the point you hate yourself.”
You bite your lip, fresh tears gushing down from your eyes. “Stop, please.” Your voice is barely a whisper.
“Oh, baby,” he coos, resting on one knee to come to your eye level. “It is okay. You just need to stop lying to yourself. Stop punishing yourself.”
You are not in this world anymore. You feel and hear nothing, your soul shrinking back and hiding itself in a shell. From this point on, nothing matters except the fact that you failed your brother in more ways than one.
Producing a handkerchief from his pocket, Jeonghan uses it to wipe your tears and the droplets of rain beading down from your wet hair. Dabbing the linen across your face with utmost care, he says, “It is time for you to give in, my raven. Give in to me and see how good you feel. I can heal you.”
For a long, long moment, you stare at him, your blank gaze focused on his face, observing every little detail — the bumps and the moles on his skin. “Just kill me.” You whisper after a while.
Jeonghan stops. He blinks before dropping the handkerchief. Seconds pass by — one, two, three before you suddenly feel his fingers wrapped around your throat, squeezing you.
The air lightens, your vision gets blurry.
“You want me to do this?” He grits. “You want me to squeeze that pretty life out of your body?” Your head hurts, and in a half-hearted attempt, you hold his wrists, unsure whether you truly want him to continue or stop.
Jeonghan, however, has his plans and with his fingers around your neck, he yanks you closer, wrapping an arm around your lower back and smashing his lips with yours.
He ravages your mouth while you feel light-headed. And it is a euphoric feeling. You let go of all your body weight, letting him hold you.
And he does. His hand lets go of your throat to yank your jacket off of you, the sopping material sprinkling droplets of water as it comes off of you. His lips continue to be against yours, his tongue in your mouth, depriving you of your breath in another way. At the same time, his hands work, feeling your arms, your back, your shoulders, pulling at your flimsy tank top.
“You want me to kill you, pretty girl?” He snarls against your lips. “Why would I do that, hm? I could do so much worse to you by keeping you alive and with me.”
He rips your tank top off your skin in the next moment.
Already cold from the rain, your naked body shivers. “Poor baby, are you cold?” He whispers, engulfing you in his arms, kissing you once again while his fingers find home around your neck. His body guards yours, pulling you impossibly close, touching every inch of your bare skin while he kisses you as if his life depends on it. You feel like a puppet, pliant and mindless, giving into this inescapable madness, some part deep in you already accepting and even craving it.
Shit, what is wrong with you?
You don’t get to contemplate the answer as he is pushing you down, pressing your back flat against the church floor, his body on top of yours. Lips still interconnected, one of his hands crawls down, touching you between your legs. Pushing your panties aside, he thrusts two of his fingers inside you and makes a grunt of satisfaction at how easily his digits slip in due to your arousal.
“Oh god.” You cry, eyes falling closed as you feel his fingers move in and out of you with ease, hitting the perfect spot each time. You shudder, fingers gripping his shoulders. Next to your lips, he whispers, “There is no god here, little raven. Only me.”
He flicks your clit and you erupt in a loud moan. “So say my name. Scream it.” Paired with the movement of his fingers and the scalding way he keeps looking at you, you know you’re not very far from your release. Some fragmented part of your mind vaguely registers how embarrassing this is but by now, you have gone past the point of caring.
Because he is everywhere, his touch is everywhere — fingers inside you, lips on your jaw, neck and breasts. Biting, licking, marking.
He speeds up the movement of his fingers, and you hiss, “Jeonghan…please—”
He chuckles. “Gonna cum, sweetheart? So quickly? Is this evil bastard making you feel so good?”
“Yes…please,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut, grabbing onto his body like he is your lifeline. With each second, you feel the delicious, exhilarating release building and building, your toes curling from pleasure and anticipation.
“Come then. Wet my fingers with your sweet juice. His filthy words make you cry out loud, his thumb brushing over your clit, rubbing it swiftly and sending you over the edge, face-first into your orgasm. It shakes your limbs as you lie there pressed underneath his weight, feeling it wash over you, your pussy spasming repeatedly while he keeps playing with you throughout your high. When you finally feel the last of your orgasm ebb away and your mind starts functioning again, Jeonghan pulls his fingers out of you, dripping in your essence and licks his digits clean, never wavering eye contact with you.
On top of you, he looks like God. Or the incarnation of pure evil — you are not sure. Whatever it is, you can no longer deny him. You shiver, whether due to his gaze or from the cold, you don’t know. You don’t know anything anymore.
Jeonghan's eyes lazily drag across your face, taking in every detail. “I am just getting started with you, baby.” He hums, tracing his wet index finger upwards, from your belly button to your nipple to your collarbone and then stopping at your throat. “I love seeing my marks on you,” he mutters almost to himself, no doubt referring to his fingerprints around your neck. “I am going to mark every inch of you, little raven. Mark my words.”
In the blink of an eye, his hands move, grabbing onto the waist of your trousers and dragging them down, pulling them off of you completely along with your panties. You lie beneath him, completely at his mercy and without a stitch on your skin.
With a grin matching that of the devils, he works on the buttons of his pants, finally freeing his cock, which had created a tent in his pants. Thick, curved, and leaking, it shoots a maddening flame of desire from your belly to right between your legs. No one has ever made you feel this way — this depraved and desperate, being led on by a mind-numbing arousal. Unable to look away, you swallow, not finding much to say, sweaty palms pressed against the hardwood floor in anticipation of sin.
“Dirty little girl,” he flashes his teeth, eyes sparkling with desire and mischief. “Don’t you know it is rude to stare?”
“I—”
“Hush, now. Take a deep breath.” He warns, making himself comfortable on top of you before lining up his length with your pussy and pushing in with a harsh thrust. A small, breathless squeak floats past your lips at the intrusion and the fullness, your hands immediately reaching out to latch onto Jeonghan’s shoulders. On top of you, the man pants, a quiet grunt coming from him as he thrusts deep inside you.
“Fuck,” his body shudders. “You are so tight and wet, little raven.” He huffs, pausing for a second, your walls clenched tight around him, before pulling out and pushing in all the way. The sounds your pussy makes are mortifying, leaving behind a wet squelch at his movements, your body quietly shaking at his intrusions.
“Please,” you find yourself begging for something you are unaware of. Jeonghan, who has built up a steady pace by now, leans back slightly to get a better look at your face. “Feels good, baby?”
You shake your head, delirious.
“Of course it does,” he pants. His hands wrap around your neck, fingers molding around your soft skin the way they did before. “You love to act all high and mighty. But you are just a slut, aren’t you? You like getting this cunt pounded by me, no?”
He increases his pace and your eyes fall closed, mindless whimpers and moans coming out of your mouth. “Answer me, whore!” He seethes and then lands a slap on your cheek. Wide eyed, you stare at him, panting, the skin he just hit stinging deliciously.
“Fuck,” he grins, diabolical. “You just got tighter around me. You like me slapping you?”
You are breathless, still too dumbfounded by his action and your reaction. And without giving you enough time to process the first one, he lands another slap on your other cheek, and this time you feel yourself clenching around him.
Fuck.
“God damn it, baby,” he grunts. “Aren’t you a dirty little pain slut?”
You make a pathetic noise, somewhere between an agreement and a sob.
“Answer me, slut!” Another slap.
“Yes!” You cry. “I love it, Jeonghan!”
The man almost growls at your words, going into a frenzy. He doesn’t hold back, pulling out almost all the way before snapping his hips back in, making your body arch. He holds his place, letting you feel every pulsing inch of him. “Fuck!” You hiss, legs shaking. Jeonghan smiles lazily at your reaction, his hips moving again, slowly at first, then increasing, the thrusts hitting you so deep each time you feel like he’s inside your belly. Leaning down, his mouth trails over your neck, littering open-mouthed kisses before they travel towards your breasts, capturing a nipple into his mouth. You mewl in pleasure.
His tongue teases your nipple, circling the hard bud before he gives it a harsh suck and then finishes off with a soft bite. He does the same to your other breast while you writhe below him, all the nerves of your body on fire, searching desperately for a release.
“You are a temptress, little raven,” he hums against your breast, gently biting a nipple while one of his hands crawls downwards to find your clit. The bundle of nerves is swollen and sensitive, immediately making you cry out. “Please—I wanna cum!”
“Oh yeah, my slut?” Letting go of your nipple with a pop, he gazes at you, unblinking, while his fingers continue playing with your clit. “Beg for it. Beg for me to fill your dirty hole up.”
“P-please, Jeonghan. Please…let me cum. Oh–fuck…harder.” You babble, head lost in a cloud of pleasure as you feel every inch of his dick brand itself into your walls. The pleasure makes your head spin and you know you have to come soon. Otherwise, you just might go insane.
“Such an obedient slut,” he says and increases his pace even more, drilling into your swollen cunt, rough breaths falling from his lips. One of his hands continues to toy with your clit while the other pinches your nipple harshly and you wail. “Jeonghan!”
You finally taste your release. In the blink of an eye, the coil in your belly snaps and fireworks shoot throughout your body as you reach your peak, body trembling underneath him, toes curled, eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Yes, good girl. Come for your master.” He hisses, leaning down to nibble on your neck, feeling your deathly grip on his cock, your warm, wet walls spasming around him.
Absolutely cock-drunk, you feel nothing, transported into a world of bliss, from which you are dragged out rather quickly when he whispers in your ear, “You are going to give me another one, baby.”
You’re too lost to even process his words but your body moves to action, another orgasm already building up as he starts to build up his tireless pace again. Jeonghan’s soft grunts increase as he rubs your wet pussy mercilessly, his thrusts now faltering. “Fuck. Gonna cum, soon, little raven. Gonna fill you up. Beg me. Beg for my seed.”
“Jeonghan…please,” you slur, brain riddled with the torturous sensation on your clit and inside your pussy. It is heaven and hell at the same time. You are too sensitive for another orgasm but at the same time, you need it like your next breath. “Fill me up…” you mumble, lying flat on your back and surrendering your body to him. You are his to play with, to do as he pleases.
“Open your mouth,” Jeonghan orders quietly. Huh? You don’t really think before doing as he says and in the next second, a glob of spit drops into your mouth. Face on fire, you stare at the haunting man on top of you. He grins, “Fuck. You are perfect, you know that?” One hand comes to tenderly stroke your face. “Swallow it like a good girl.”
You do so. Jeonghan throws his head back in a groan, muttering curses underneath his breath. “Fuck, baby. I am gonna fill you up so good. Put my child in and never let you leave.”
His words start to unravel you. Your body goes tense and with one more flick of his finger on your clit, you reach your second orgasm, messy and merciless as your pleasure crashes into you like waves. In between a mess of tears and drool, you feel Jeonghan spill inside you at the same time, his warm seed filling you up, and then leaking out of your spent hole. Your legs shake even after you sense him pull out as white spots dance in your vision, your brain completely reduced to mush.
Jeonghan’s body slumps onto yours, his chest heaving against yours while you lie beneath him and try to get enough air into your lungs. You stare straight ahead, at the ceiling of the church, which stretches skyward in pale stone arches. Candlelight trembles along the curves of the ceiling, making the shadows dance hauntingly. Faded frescoes bloom between the ribs — angels with solemn faces, wings outstretched, their eyes turned eternally toward heaven. Yet for a second, you feel as if their eyes are set straight at you — defiled and used, lying on the church floor with the man who led her to sin.
Oddly, you do not feel any guilt, only acceptance. And even relief.
—
The storm continues raging outside—now stronger than before. A thunder lands somewhere nearby, leaving behind an ear-deafening sound.
You flinch in Jeonghan’s arms, your naked body pressed against his clothed one.
Your head rests against his shoulder, your face turned aside, your eyes staring at nothing. His fingers stroke your back in a mindless pattern.
Another crash of thunder.
“It is okay, my raven.” The man assures, voice dripping with care, like he is talking to a child in agony. “I have got you now. You will be just fine. You will be just fine.”
You swallow and close your eyes. Your hands wrap around his waist.
You will be just fine.
For a bonus, extra special scene, click here or head over to my Patreon! This work will be cross-posted on AO3.
A/N 2: whew, so that was that lol. idk what possessed me to write that filth but ik for a fact Hannie would be the best cult leader and he would have managed to rope me in his schemes. anyway, thank you for reading till the end, i hope you enjoyed it! please leave your thoughts in the comments or in my ask box! always happy to talk more about my fics <33
on a different note, I am kinda wondering if I should start writing fics about other groups. to be very specific, on Ateez's San. I have been listening to them on and off since their debut and recently, I have developed the phattest crush on San so my hands are lowkey itching to write a fic on him (that man is fine af, okay). anyway, just sharing a thought, maybe I will write a drabble first and see how the response it. but yeah, i will stop yapping now! have a great day wherever you are!!
SUMMARY: They said money is the solution, while you naively believed it wasn’t the answer to everything. Yet you found yourself in despair as your father’s fate fell in the hands of the town’s so-called “impartial” judge. You begged him to see reason, swearing your father was innocent. But there was another deception lurking beneath the surface.
WARNINGS: mature themes content (strictly MDNI), strong language, power imbalance, bribery, abuse of authority, manipulation, gaslighting, system corruption, implied stockholm syndrome, unprotected sex, fingering, impregnation kink, biting, skin sucking, dubcon ig?, abuse mention (not reader or jeonghan, just for the case), psychological disturbance, rough sex, heated kiss, pregnancy (mentioned), violence & death (major character death).
WC: 22k
add tags❦: bakery owner! reader, jeonghan is a little evil here, detective! seungcheol, seokmin as childhood friends, lawyer! joshua, possibly another love interest(?), widower jeonghan, implied docile reader, beauty n beast reference if you squint slightly, grief, ambiguous ending(?), morally grey characters, inaccurate legal system, wouldn't call this dark romance cuz this is so fucked up lmao
A/N: wow, the number of people who liked the preview was amazing. yall nasty fr, anyway happy reading (or not). disclaimer: fictionalized and inaccurate legal procedures for narrative purposes.
The smell of freshly baked goods filled the bakery. The lingering scent tingled your nose, though you were already used to it.
It had been almost four years since you began managing the bakery on your own. After your grandmother passed away, you reopened it yourself. You hadn’t planned to continue your higher education at the time, especially when your father had fallen ill, only recently recovering.
You greeted your regular customers as usual, the place busy from morning until noon. You were grateful that the bakery’s success repaid every sacrifice you had left behind. Even though becoming a lawyer had once been your greatest dream. Helping people, fighting for justice, but seeing customers happily buying your goods and complimenting them each day made you feel like the happiest person alive.
Still, deep inside, you were just a girl who once dreamed of becoming a good lawyer—someone who could help others obtain the justice they deserved.
So focused on your work, you didn’t notice Seokmin tailing you like an excited puppy until he startled you from behind.
“Goodness, Min,” you sighed, rolling your eyes as you stepped back into the pantry to refill the bread display. “Don’t scare me like that. What brings you here?” you asked without looking up at him.
Seokmin hummed, crossing his arms. “Can’t I stop by to see the lovely Miss Baker?” he chuckled, still following you as you busied yourself. “Say… are you perhaps available this weekend? I mean— I’d love to take you out for a nice dinner.”
When you didn’t respond immediately, too focused on arranging the croissants, he sighed dramatically.
“Okay… I’m sorry, just this once,” he continued, stepping in front of you so you had no choice but to look at him properly. “I know the last time you said you couldn’t, but please give me a chance.”
You softly sighed, patting your hands against your apron as you shook your head. “I’m sorry, Min. I just… I can’t, okay?” you said, moving to the cashier counter to busy yourself with nothing in particular. “I’m already occupied. I don’t know if I can make time for…”
You hesitated to mention the word love or relationship.
Seokmin had been your friend since childhood. Though he was two years younger, you always treated him as an equal. At first, you saw him as a younger brother, maybe you still did, even after he grew into a fine young man. Still, you couldn’t allow yourself to enter a relationship, let alone think of marriage. You had always been content with what you had… especially when you weren’t ready to leave your father’s side.
You had lost count of how many times Seokmin had tried to ask you out. His attraction toward you wasn’t subtle, he had always pined like a lovesick puppy. You, on the other hand, never took his feelings lightly. Even after rejecting him when you were younger, he remained persistent. You appreciated him deeply, as a friend, perhaps even as family, but your bond with him had always remained platonic.
Before you could even answer his many questions, your attention was already stolen by the customer standing in front of you.
Mr. Yoon.
He was one of your regulars. You stated the total, and he handed you the money, which you politely accepted. You weren’t sure when it began, but there had always been something melancholic about him. He usually bought the same thing, the castella cake, or simply a plain pound cake. On rare occasions, when he seemed to be in a particular mood, he would choose the lemon-flavored one. You never questioned it. In fact, you had memorised his preference so well that you made sure it was always restocked, just in case.
You thanked him, offering your usual polite smile as you watched him walk toward the door. You didn’t even realize you had been staring at his figure as it slowly disappeared outside until Seokmin called your name, snapping you out of your thoughts. Blinking, you looked at him. “If you keep startling me like that, you might as well help around here,” you huffed, pretending to count the notes in your hand.
It wasn’t that you were understaffed. But the bakery had been packed all day, with massive pre-orders and constant restocking. You felt a little guilty watching Seungkwan and Chan shuffle back and forth without proper breaks.
You had always greeted your customers cheerfully, even asking about their day with genuine warmth.
The only exception was that man.
Mr. Yoon, the judge of the courthouse in town. Known as one of the most respectable individuals in the district. You first met him years ago when you were still a student. He had been invited to your university for a legal workshop. You remembered admiring him back then. He was articulate, confident, someone who spoke about justice as if it were sacred.
After you dropped out, he became nothing more than a distant memory. Seeing him again years later felt… different.
It wasn’t as though you had any lingering attachment. Still, the unfortunate incident involving his late wife, the arson case the newspapers wrote about had changed him. At least, that was what people said. Perhaps that was why he carried that quiet heaviness around him now.
But it was none of your business.
“Seeing Judge Yoon this close was kind of scary, if I’m honest,” Seokmin said while helping pack the goods. “It feels like a shiver runs down my spine whenever I’m around him.”
You stilled, eyes still fixed on your list, not responding immediately. “Come on, you’re exaggerating. If anything, everyone probably feels that way because of his position.”
Seokmin only grinned, nudging you gently, and you returned a faint smile. “If I were serious like him, would you have accepted me?” he leaned closer, voice playful. “You know… my sex appeal would be more attractive if I used it properly.”
You rolled your eyes, though a small smile lingered as you moved away so he wouldn’t get distracted. “Less talk, more work. I like a hardworking man, Min.”
Chapter 1: The Corrupt Judge and His Sullied Court
People’s gossip was never something that interested you. Sometimes you overheard things here and there, but you rarely paid attention.
Although, you couldn’t deny it unsettled you whenever the subject revolved around Judge Yoon.
It wasn’t surprising for people to talk about scandalous marriages or secret affairs. But this time, the conversation was about something more serious.
“I heard about the recent case, Mrs. Kwon being accused of murdering her own husband?” one of the middle-aged women said suddenly, making you subconsciously listen as you stood with your back facing them. “They said in court she claimed it was self-defense. Apparently, she revealed that her late husband had been abusing her.”
“Oh dear, that’s horrible,” the other woman gasped. “I hope everything goes well… I wonder how she’s feeling now. It would be unfortunate if she fails to prove her innocence. All that fortune from her husband would eventually go back to his family.”
You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, yet there you were, listening to every word as you gathered the ingredients you had just bought. The conversation eventually died down, and you hurried along, mentally cursing yourself for rejecting Seokmin’s offer to help.
It wasn’t that you thought their discussion was unnecessary.
If anything, it made you uneasy.
When you first heard that Mr. Kwon had died from murder, it genuinely shocked you. He had been one of your regular customers and, if you remembered correctly, an acquaintance of Seokmin’s. You could still vividly recall the bright smile he wore whenever he stood at your counter, proudly bragging about how smoothly his business was running.
Though he was one of the wealthiest men in town, he carried himself with humility, at least, that was how he appeared to you. He had a way of making you feel like you were no less important than he was. So hearing that he had allegedly abused his wife felt almost unbelievable.
You had met Mrs. Kwon a few times at the clothing boutique. She often spent lavishly on glamorous pieces. You were never one to judge someone’s lifestyle, but the news still came as a shock.
Almost too suspicious. Or perhaps you simply shouldn’t have judged a book by its cover.
When you returned to the bakery, it didn’t go unnoticed that your staff were slacking off in the back. You shook your head as you approached them, both far too invested in the newspaper spread across the table.
“Would you like your pay to be cut short?”
Your voice nearly made Seungkwan and Chan jump out of their skin as they scrambled back into position. Seungkwan was the first to break the tension, attempting to smooth things over with a dramatic whistle. “Oh dear, I think I might’ve forgotten how to make pain au chocolat—do you know where the recipe is, Chan?”
“I seriously don’t know, man,” Chan agreed smoothly, wiping an already spotless surface with his rag.
You sighed, shaking your head before picking up the newspaper they had been so absorbed in. Your eyes skimmed over the article.
Ah.
Of course.
A small column near the top mentioned the recent court case. You were certain details like this weren’t meant to be public, yet here it was in ink.
Mrs. Kwon’s case.
According to the article, she had been sentenced only to probation. Which meant the court had acknowledged her claim of self-defense. Meaning… the allegations about her husband’s abuse were true after all. You weren’t sure how to process it. It felt unreal. Yet, in the end, it didn’t matter anymore, Mr. Kwon was already dead.
Still, something inside you twisted uneasily.
Just a week ago, he had been standing at your counter, smiling brightly. You had always assumed he was a kind man. Seeing this revelation in print felt almost impossible to reconcile. Your eyes drifted toward the familiar surname printed beneath the article. The reporter had made it clear that the case was handled under Judge Yoon.
That name always lingered somewhere in your mind, though you could never quite pinpoint why. Perhaps it was simply because you saw him at the bakery so often. Standing near someone of his caliber had always felt surreal. Even meeting prosecutors or judges once in your life carried a certain weight.
The desire to become one of them had already died long ago.
You folded the newspaper and set it aside, returning to your stock work while your staff resumed whispering about the news.
“Man, I can’t believe Mr. Kwon was that kind of person,” Chan murmured as he arranged the trays.
“I know, right?” Seungkwan replied, hands busy shaping pastries. “I never imagined someone we knew could turn out like that. What’s crazier is that I saw his wife shopping at the jewelry boutique the other day like she didn’t have a care in the world. Then boom— murder.”
That was enough.
You cleared your throat deliberately, and their chatter died instantly. There was no use crying over spilled milk now.
──
Your life had always been simple, you preferred it that way.
Though that never stopped people from running their mouths, especially in a neighborhood like yours. They often commented that your life had been “robbed” by your sick father, as if you hadn’t chosen to drop out of your studies to care for him yourself. As if sacrifice had not been your own decision.
After all, he was your only family.
Sure, it had been years since then, yet some still criticized your choice to remain a bakery owner instead of pursuing a “more respectable” profession, especially as a woman in this era.
You had grown used to it.
But you would never allow them to speak badly about your papa. He was everything you had left after your grandmother passed away. That was why you chose to continue the business, pouring everything you had into rebuilding it. And now, seeing familiar faces return each day, watching customers smile at the taste of your pastries, it felt worth it.
The bakery was filled with warmth and sweetness.
At your age, it was only natural for people to question your marital status — a topic you always brushed off with a polite smile. It was rather nosy of them, prying into matters that did not concern them. So what if you chose not to settle down?
It hadn’t gone unnoticed that a few bachelors had shown interest in you, but you politely declined before anything could even begin. Most people found you odd, perhaps they always had. Even when you were younger, you had been too engrossed in books, too eager to learn and discover more.
The only man you allowed close was Seokmin. He was perhaps the only one who never attempted strange advances or crossed lines. Even after being rejected more times than you could count, he continued to respect your boundaries.
When he suddenly entered the bakery, his face looked unusually troubled. Before you could even greet him, he grasped your arms gently, as if steadying you or himself, while carefully choosing his words. He called your name softly.
“Listen to me… I need you to stay calm. Just listen to what I’m about to say.”
You stared at him, confused, searching his expression for any hint of what was coming. Your heart began pounding, a nervous rhythm echoing in your ears.
He wasn’t joking.
“Your father…”
The rest blurred. The moment he uttered the words of arrest, accusation, embezzlement, and everything else drowned in a loud buzzing inside your head. The details slipped past you, lost somewhere between disbelief and fear.
Your papa has been arrested for embezzlement. It didn’t make sense. None of it did.
You didn’t waste a second. There was nothing you wanted more than to see your father immediately.
At the detention centre, where your papa was now being held, the sight of him behind the metal barrier made your heart clench painfully. His face brightened the moment he saw you and Seokmin approaching.
“Papa!” You rushed forward, fingers curling around the bars as if you could reach him through sheer will. Your chest felt unbearably heavy at the sight of him confined like this.
“My dearest… thank God you’re safe,” your father sighed in relief.
Safe?
You were the one falling apart.
“____, you shouldn’t worry about me—”
“Please, Papa,” you interrupted quickly, shaking your head. “This is serious. Of course I need to be involved.” Your brows furrowed. “I’m not a child anymore. You should be worrying about yourself. How did this even happen?”
Your eyes scanned him anxiously. He looked physically fine, healthier than he had been two years ago, but that didn’t stop your mind from spiraling. Stress alone could undo his recovery.
Your father gently placed his palm over yours against the cold barrier, grounding you.
“My dear, take care of yourself,” he said softly. “You mustn’t fret over me. We can hire an attorney…”
His gaze shifted to Seokmin, giving him a meaningful nod just as the officer called for the end of visitation.
“Take care of her for me.” Before you could say another word, your papa was already being led away. The metal door shut with a sound that echoed too loudly in your chest.
“Hey—it’s alright,” Seokmin murmured, gently turning you to face him as you stood frozen. “I’ll help you, okay? I’ll hire an attorney for your father. We’re in this together.”
Your expression softened, though you slowly shook your head, much to his visible disappointment.
“No, Min… I can’t do that to you.” Your voice trembled slightly. “Your family already helped us when Papa was ill. And when I reopened the bakery…”
You couldn’t ask for more. Seokmin’s family had always been better off financially. They had never once made you feel small for it. His parents adored you, yet accepting more help felt dangerously close to indebting yourself.
And you hated feeling indebted.
Seokmin’s hands tightened gently around yours as he called your name. “Please let me help. I want to do this. I mean it.”
You hesitated. In a situation like this, you couldn’t afford an incompetent attorney.
After a long moment, you nodded.
“…Alright.”
──
In the Union States of Sebong, there was a man who directed the courthouse under government administration while quietly collecting profit for himself.
His name was Yoon Jeonghan. In posterity, he would be remembered as the Collector.
No one ever understood how he determined the outcomes of his cases, whether the accused were found guilty or not. It hardly concerned honor. If you had money, you were saved. But even that did not guarantee your life. That decision belonged to corruption itself.
No one dared to question him.
Yoon Jeonghan was regarded as the most respectable man in town. Therefore, once his verdict was spoken, it was final. In the courtroom, Jeonghan liked to believe that every sin committed passed through his hands alone. He decided who was guilty. He decided who was innocent. And if they paid enough to be acquitted, then their crimes would be permitted.
Only cash would do.
Well… at least in hell.
He did not consider himself greedy. After all, wasn’t he helping those in need? In the end, they should all understand that their lives depended on him.If they wanted salvation, they would pay the proper fee.
Jeonghan adjusted his judicial gown as he prepared to enter the courtroom for the next case. The doors opened at his silent command. The room stilled. Prosecutors, attorneys, defendants, and spectators rose to their feet in respect.
He took his seat, face stoic, voice low and neutral.
“Now,” he said calmly, “let the trial begin.”
You tensed in your seat, sitting rigidly on the wooden bench with your fingers clasped tightly in your lap as your father stood before the court. He looked smaller somehow. Not physically, but diminished under the weight of accusation.
What you hadn’t expected was that Judge Yoon would be assigned to your father’s case.
You had to remind yourself that he was not the quiet regular customer who bought castella cake from your counter. Not the man you occasionally admired from afar.
Down here, beneath the towering ceiling of the courtroom, he felt different.
Intimidating. Distant. Powerful.
And you felt very, very small. You had heard the whispers before, that defendants prayed never to fall under Judge Yoon’s trial. They called him ruthless, though the public preferred a more refined word.
Impartial.
He carried that reputation flawlessly.
And yet, despite everything you had heard, you silently prayed that this time. Just this once, the case would favor your father.
You needed his innocence to be proven, and him to come home.
As the trial progressed, your heart remained heavy with distress and unease. Sleep had abandoned you entirely these past few nights. For now, the bakery was left in the capable hands of Seungkwan and Chan while you dedicated yourself to gathering every possible record, financial statements, receipts, testimonies — anything that could support your father’s innocence.
You have done everything.
When the opposing counsel finally rose to speak, your stomach twisted.
You couldn’t help but frown at the confident cadence of his voice, at the certainty dripping from every word he uttered. His client sat beside him, posture relaxed, almost assured as if victory had already been promised.
That unsettled you.
You weren’t supposed to feel doubt.
Not when you knew your father was innocent.
“Your Honour,” the prosecutor began, voice clear and unwavering, “the evidence will show that this was neither a mistake nor a misunderstanding. This was a deliberate, long-term scheme of embezzlement.”
He paced slowly as he spoke. “We will present the paper trail—the bank transfers, the altered receipts, and the final destination of those funds: the defendant’s own pocket.”
A pause.
“At the conclusion of this trial, we will ask this court to hold him accountable for this grave breach of trust.”
The words echoed in the chamber, heavier than they had any right to be.
You felt your fingers tighten against each other in your lap.
Deliberate. Long-term scheme. Embezzlement.
It sounded so certain when spoken aloud.
The defense attorney rose slowly, adjusting his spectacles. “Your Honour,” he began, voice firm but measured, “the prosecution presents a compelling story. Thus, a story is not a conviction.”
A murmur rippled faintly through the gallery.
“The transfers cited required dual authorization. My client did not possess unilateral access to those accounts. Furthermore, the alleged altered receipts were processed through a third-party accountant, one who has yet to be summoned before this court.”
The prosecutor scoffed lightly. “Deflection.”
The defense ignored him.
“My client built that company from the ground up. Twenty-two years of work. If he wished to steal, he would not do so through traceable bank transfers under his own name.”
Your father finally stepped forward.
His voice trembled, not from guilt, but from exhaustion. “I would never steal from my own partners,” he said. “That business fed my family. It fed theirs too. I have nothing to gain from destroying it.”
Your throat tightened.
For the first time since the trial began, the room felt human.
All eyes slowly shifted toward the bench.
Judge Yoon had not moved once. His hands were folded neatly before him. His expression is unreadable.
He studied your father.
Then he spoke. “Mr. ____,” he said evenly, “you claim loyalty.”
“Yes, Your Honour.”
“You claim integrity.”
“Yes.”
“And yet,” Jeonghan continued softly, “the funds did arrive in an account bearing your name.”
Silence.
Your father swallowed. “They were transferred without my knowledge. I reported the discrepancy.”
“After how long?”
A pause. “…Three weeks.”
The courtroom shifted. Jeonghan leaned back slightly. “Three weeks,” he repeated.
The way he said it made it sound like a confession.
Your fingers dug into your palms.
The defense attorney quickly intervened. “Your Honour, my client needed time to verify the irregularities before escalating—”
Judge Yoon raised one hand. The entire courtroom went silent instantly. “I find,” he said calmly, “that the evidence presented thus far establishes sufficient ground to treat the defendant as a potential flight risk.”
The words didn’t register at first. Your head snapped up.
What?
The defense attorney stiffened. “Your Honour?”
“Pending further examination of financial records,” Jeonghan continued, voice cold as winter steel, “the defendant’s bail privileges are hereby revoked.”
The courtroom erupted.
Your heart stopped. “No—!” you nearly rose from your seat.
Your father turned toward you, shock written across his face as two officers approached him.
“Your Honour, this is highly irregular!” the defense protested. “My client has complied with every summons—”
Judge Yoon’s gaze sharpened. “Compliance,” he said quietly, “does not erase capability.”
The room fell into stunned silence again. That was it. That was the ruthlessness people whispered about.
He simply decided. The reality bent.
Jeonghan adjusted his sleeve. “This court will recess for thirty minutes,” he declared. “Proceedings will resume thereafter.”
His gavel struck once. Final and absolute.
As people began to move in frantic confusion, he stood from his seat. For the briefest second, you swore that his eyes met yours, you find his eyes were not apologetic or cruel. Just… assessing. As if he was calculating something. Then he turned and disappeared through the chamber doors, leaving you frozen on the bench.
──
The trial continued, though the entire session blurred together in your mind.
Arguments were dismissed one after another. Evidence you were certain was clear enough seemed to crumble under the opposing attorney’s effortless rebuttals. Every time hope rose in your chest, it was quietly struck down.
You kept telling yourself this wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be.
Yet when you finally heard Judge Yoon deliver the verdict, your head snapped up.
“This court has reviewed the exhaustive ledger entries, the third-party forensic audits, and the defense’s claims of ‘procedural irregularities.’ However, the law does not operate on intentions that remain silent for three weeks. It operates on facts.”
Your throat went dry. Your gaze flickered anxiously between your father and Seokmin.
“The facts show a systematic diversion of five hundred and eighty thousand dollars. It shows a breach of fiduciary duty that crippled a twenty-two-year-old institution.”
The judge paused.
The silence in the courtroom felt suffocating.
“Therefore, on the count of Grand Larceny and Embezzlement in the First Degree, this court finds the defendant—”
Your heart pounded violently.
“—GUILTY.”
The word struck the room like a physical weight.
You watched as your father’s expression did not change, but his head lowered slightly. That small movement shattered something inside you. Across the courtroom, the opposing party erupted in quiet satisfaction, their lawyer already gathering his papers with a victorious air. Meanwhile, you sat frozen in your seat, the world around you collapsing into noise and silence all at once.
Judge Yoon had already risen from his chair. The gavel had fallen. The case was closed.
Just like that.
──
Your heart pounded violently in your chest as you ran toward the estate gates. Your dress and cardigan clung to your skin, drenched from the rain as you rushed toward Mr. Yoon’s residence begging for the fifth time to plead your papa’s innocence. You had called out to him when he declared your father guilty of embezzling a large sum of money, a crime you were certain he had been framed for. Your papa would never do such a thing. He was the gentlest and the sweetest man you had ever known.
It couldn’t be happening.
Even when you tried to approach the judge as he exited the courtroom, an unease settled deep in your stomach. The case had been decided in a single day. It was unfair. No one listened to you. Evidence was dismissed as if it meant nothing, when it was obvious some high-ranking bastard had set your father up.
It was heartbreaking.
Your papa was the only family you had aside from your bakery. When he fell ill during your studies, you dropped out to care for him. He was your world. And so you continued your grandmother’s bakery, running it just as she once had. Your knees ached from kneeling too long. Your fists rested against them as you bowed your head before the estate gates. The rain poured relentlessly, yet you remained there for nearly two hours, desperate to speak with Mr. Yoon. What had your papa done to deserve this? Was it about money? Of course you didn’t have enough to bribe him.
But why your papa?
The men who framed him were celebrating their victory while your father bore the blame.
You needed answers. You would do anything to prove them wrong.
Your father had only just recovered from his illness. You never wanted him to work again, but he insisted. Maybe you should have tried harder, then none of this would have happened.
The estate doors opened. A housekeeper approached, likely to dismiss you as usual but instead, a pair of polished leather shoes stopped in front of you.
You didn’t dare look up.
Your soaked fists trembled against your knees. You weren’t sure if you had any tears left, or if they had simply blended into the rain.
Then something shielded you from the downpour.
An umbrella.
Mr. Yoon stood above you, one hand holding it over your head, the other tucked neatly inside his robe. He did not look surprised. “Get up,” his familiar voice said calmly.
You slowly lifted your head.
“We’ll discuss this inside.”
You felt awkward changing into the nightgown one of his female employees had handed you. A shawl was draped over your shoulders, a gesture of courtesy from him. Now warmer, you sat quietly with a cup of tea cradled between your palms, staring into the amber liquid absentmindedly.
It was late.
Even if you returned home now, no one would be waiting. Ever since your papa was imprisoned, the house had felt unbearably hollow. The cell must be colder than the rain you endured outside his estate. The food, if they even fed him properly, would be nothing like the warm bread you baked every morning.
God… you just wanted him to be alright.
Your thoughts spiraled into darker possibilities. Prison was never kind. Guilty or not, men often met terrible ends there. So lost in your mind, you didn’t hear Mr. Yoon calls your name more than once. You blinked, startled, quickly mumbling an apology. When you tried to speak, your words got tangled. “Why… the evidence was there. You didn’t even… hear us out. Why?”
Silence settled between you.
He did not look offended nor surprised. “Why?” he repeated smoothly, placing his cup down. “The case was decided. The defendant’s side presented their argument well. Their attorney was… quite persuasive.”
You frowned in disbelief.
Of course. That would be his answer.
“But Mr. Yoon, it was obvious my father had nothing to do with it,” your voice trembled, almost pleading. “He was framed. Used by those—”
He lifted a hand, silencing you effortlessly. “The case is closed. I have no intention of reopening it.”
Before he could rise again, you spoke. “…You took a bribe from them, didn’t you?”
Your eyes didn’t waver.
Something in your gaze despite your soaked, pitiful state caught his attention.
He thought that it’s either you were bold or simply foolish. Either way, he decided to entertain you. “What makes you think that?” His expression remained unreadable.
You swallowed, intimidated by his composure but pressed on. “I heard rumors. I didn’t want to believe them. But I looked into your past cases.” Your voice steadied slightly. “There’s a pattern.”
For a moment, he studied you. Then a slow, faint smile appeared on his face, “So you finally completed your assignment. Impressive. As expected from a law student.”
There’s a pause in between. “Though you are a dropout now.”
Your breath hitched at the sudden revelation. You wanted nothing more than to understand how he had unearthed pieces of your past you thought were long buried.
He began listing your full name. Your birthplace, your former university, your academic standing and last but not least, your withdrawal records. Basically your entire history.
Cold crept up your spine.
You wanted to ask how he knew, but no words came.
“I have my ways,” he said lightly. “This isn’t the first time someone has accused me. And you’ll notice…” He took another sip of tea, responding to your accusations, “I never directly deny it.”
Your stomach twisted at that. So he wasn’t even ashamed.
“Go on,” he gestured lazily. “Threaten me, expose me, harm me. Others have tried but I’m not sure about you.”
But you did none of that. Instead, you only lowered your head. “…Please release my papa. He was wronged.”
He watched you carefully. Most people would’ve shouted at him. Threatened him with a murderer or arson, maybe threw chairs too.
But you only knelt before him at the gate, in front of his estate, looking docile and desperate. Like a little kitten seeking shelter after getting caught in the rain.
He sighed softly, tilting his head slightly. “You want me to help your father?” He leaned back, fingers interlocked over his knee. “Then pay the fee for your life, little bird. Salvation isn’t free, you should already know how it works.”
You stared at him, stunned by how openly he admitted it. He wasn’t even trying to deny it. Those bastards who framed your father must have paid thousands to secure their victory enough to bury your father behind the iron bars. So logically, you would need to offer double that amount.
Obviously, you didn’t have that kind of money.
The bakery barely covered expenses. The staff salaries and maintenance. The lawyer you already hired though you paid more than that. Your family had never been wealthy. Just ordinary people trying to live quietly in town.
Your silence answered him.
Jeonghan observed you for a moment and seemed to understand. He had only presented the option to demonstrate how the world functioned. He already knew you couldn’t afford it.
He rose from his seat, “I thought so.”
When you saw him move to the door, panic surged through you as he walked toward the door. His unreadable face made it clear, he would not consider it unless it benefited him.
“Judge Yoon, wait!”
If he walked out now, everything was over.
Something inside you just snapped. “Please—just this once—I—” Your voice faltered. Then the words tumbled out before you could stop them. “I’ll do anything!”
His steps halted just before reaching the doorknob. Slowly, he turned. “Be careful with those words, birdie,” His voice lowered. “Those words shouldn’t be used so carelessly. They carry weight.”
You didn’t care and didn’t know what else to offer. Pride might as well had no place here. Without hesitation, you knelt again. Hands resting on your thighs, eyes lowered to the floor. At that moment, humiliation and dignity meant nothing.
Only your papa mattered.
“…I mean it, Mr. Yoon,” your voice cracked. “I’ll do anything to prove my papa’s innocence. Just this once. I won’t ask again.”
He stared down at you. Your trembling lips, your clasped hands and the way you refused to look up. Something twisted inside him. It had been a long time since he felt this… entertained. And he loved the sight before him.
Anything huh?
He stepped closer. Then slowly knelt in front of you. His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear with deliberate gentleness. “Don’t cry, little bird,” he cooed softly, almost tenderly. “Tears don’t suit you.”
His gaze darkened, there’s a pause in between as he continues. “And kneeling…” His thumb lingered under your chin, tilting your face upward just enough. “Though I must admit, it is rather fitting.”
His lips curved faintly. “Still, I’d prefer you in other positions.”
It made you stiffen slightly, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. Yet you didn’t pull away. You weren’t even sure you were allowed to.
“Now,” he murmured, voice softer, “did you truly mean what you said just now?”
You could have sworn you saw the faintest grin tug at his lips.
You nodded slowly, and his smile widened. Not close to amusement nor pleasant. Something darker, like he had planned something evil behind those eyes. You felt a chill creep up your spine. In that moment, it truly felt as though you had struck a bargain with the devil himself. Maybe you should have thought about this. But what choice did you have when you were already standing at such a disadvantage?
His gaze lingered over you, studying every reaction. Your eyes. The slight tremble in your brows. The way your lips parted unconsciously. He exhaled quietly as his slender fingers traced from your cheek down to your bare neck. The nightgown clung softly against your skin, the very one he had provided after the rain.
You realized then that he had planned this comfort far too smoothly.
“I must say, birdie…” His voice lowered, almost silk-like. “You look rather exquisite in my late wife’s nightgown.”
Your breath faltered. Only then did the realization fully settle in. You were wearing his wife’s clothing. You hadn’t thought much of it earlier, too consumed with desperation to question the wardrobe he kept. But now, standing this close to him, the fact felt intimate in a way that made your stomach twist.
So this was why he owned a woman’s nightgown.
His fingers drifted to the shawl resting on your shoulders, the one he had draped there himself. Slowly, almost thoughtfully, he toyed with the fabric between his fingers.
The same shawl meant to keep you warm. You hadn’t even noticed how close he had moved. His face hovered inches from yours now, his presence overwhelming, his eyes never once breaking contact. You forgot how to breathe. You couldn’t remember the last time you had stood this close to a man, close enough to feel the warmth of him, close enough to sense the quiet control radiating from his stillness.
And he knew it.
“I’m not a good man, as you can see…” His voice lingered, gaze lowering in a way that made your skin prickle. “Perhaps you’ve already realized that, but I can be gentle… if I choose to.”
Your eyes met his grin. It was a smile, yes, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Those held something unhinged. Something close to dark, that made your pulse thunder in your ears. You had never felt fear like this before. People always exaggerated when they spoke about walking into hell. But if anyone ever asked you what it felt like, you would describe this moment.
And this was only the beginning.
You hadn’t even touched the fire yet.
The tip of the iceberg.
Suddenly, he yanked the shawl from your shoulders. You let out a soft gasp, instinctively clutching the thin fabric of the nightgown as though you had been exposed.
“Say it again.” His tone shifted, no longer smooth, but commanding. It was controlled and final. “Did you truly mean what you said?”
His fingers tightened slightly around the discarded shawl. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t make me repeat myself. Just because I said I can be gentle… doesn’t mean I am patient.”
Your lips parted, breath trembling. “Y–yes,” you managed, voice barely steady. “I’ll do anything. Please… save my father.”
You didn’t even realize you had maintained eye contact the entire time.
It felt as though he was pulling the words out of you without touching your mouth at all. Like you were stepping forward willingly, even as every instinct told you to run.
And there he stood. The devil himself.
Your karma. Your judge. Your biggest nightmare.
Yoon Jeonghan was the very definition of a blessing in disguise.
He grinned, almost too satisfied with what you had told him. His fingers lifted your chin, prompting you to look up at him as though he were inspecting you. “Just to make sure… are you being courted, Miss ___?” he asked lightly. “I figured a woman of your age would be married by now. It’s a shame such a lovely lady like you hasn’t.”
Hesitating, you slowly shook your head. “...N-no… I wasn’t… and never…”
You swore you saw the glint in his eyes sharpen. Whatever idea had formed in his mind was not something you were thrilled about.
“Ah,” he hummed. “You’re one of a kind. I honestly thought someone had already taken you off the shelves.” Then he leaned closer, too close for your liking yet you stayed still, not daring to make the wrong move and risk upsetting the man before you. “I’ll need to make sure of something…” he murmured against your ear, the warmth of his breath making you shudder.
Suddenly he dipped his head, his face brushing near your jaw as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.
A soft gasp slipped past your lips.
His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, his grip anything but gentle. At that moment, you almost forgot how to breathe as he inhaled your scent.
“M-Mr. Yoon?!” you whispered weakly.
He shushed you at once.
His hold tightened. Your breath hitched as he began trailing soft kisses along your neck. You hated how the closeness made something unfamiliar stir within you.
It started softly. But gradually it became greedy.
He pulled your body flush against his, arms wrapped firmly around your waist as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. A quiet moan escaped you before you could stop it. Your eyes widened. You had never expected a sound like that to come from yourself. Jeonghan chuckled lowly at your reaction, continuing to scatter hot kisses along your neck before moving down to your collarbone. His fingers tugged slightly at the shoulder of the nightgown, pulling the sleeve lower.
He grew rougher with each passing second, as if he wanted to devour you whole. You bit your lip, struggling to keep any more sounds from escaping. After a while, he finally pulled back, studying the marks he had left behind like an artist admiring his work.
You felt flushed—hot, exposed, and strangely dazed.
A sly smile curved on his lips as he leaned close again, your noses brushing. “If I had known you were like this,” he murmured softly, “I would have swept you away right there from the bakery.”
You blinked, sharply inhaling at his words.
Seeing this side of Yoon Jeonghan awakened a dangerous thought in the back of your mind. You had stepped into territory far more dangerous than you ever imagined.
Chapter 2: The Doting Father and His Daughter
That night, you ended up sleeping at Yoon’s estate with one eye open the entire time. When you finally returned to the bakery the next morning, you were greeted by a cluster of worried faces, including Seokmin’s. It seemed your sudden disappearance had sent everyone into a panic, searching for you like anxious hens.
You only brushed it off with a small smile. You could never tell them you had been at Yoon’s estate.
“Um, actually… there’s a gentleman looking for you,” Chan spoke up, causing you to frown in confusion.
Curious, you stepped out to meet him. A man stood there in a neatly pressed suit, offering you a gentle smile. He looked calm and warm—almost the complete opposite of Jeonghan.
“You must be Miss ___,” he said, extending a hand.
You hesitated for a moment before accepting it. Instead of a firm handshake, he simply held your knuckles lightly, far gentler than expected. “Yes… yes, that’s me,” you replied, returning a faint smile. “Is there a reason you’re looking for me?”
“Ah,” he said politely, “I suppose Judge Yoon has already informed you beforehand. Hasn’t he?”
Oh.
You remembered then.
Mr. Yoon had mentioned that a new attorney would be appointed for your father’s case.
You were surprised he had helped you this easily. Too easily. Something about it made your stomach twist. You knew better than to believe this was kindness.
Nothing from Yoon Jeonghan came without a price.
But he did it. He really did.
You just hated knowing the price you would eventually have to pay.
“With that,” the man continued gently, “my name is Joshua. I will be representing your father’s case from this point forward.”
And just like that, Joshua—now your father’s newly appointed attorney had entered your life.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur. Even though you were physically present, going through your usual routine, your mind drifted somewhere else entirely.
Too many possibilities. Too many outcomes.
You knew you had to see Mr. Yoon again tonight. Perhaps you could ask him more about everything. Somehow, it all felt unreal—too easy, too good to be true. Your heart refused to calm down. If anything, the unease only grew stronger. No one knew about this arrangement except the two of you. Yoon Jeonghan and you. That night, you really did meet him again, just as the two of you had agreed for further discussion, yet somehow, you had a bad feeling about this meeting.
Was this how Judge Yoon handled every arrangement tied to bribery?
But you weren’t like those people. You hadn’t bribed him.
Instead, you had offered yourself willingly to do anything. That was what you told him, yet even now, you weren’t sure what you were actually willing to give. The thought alone made your stomach twist in discomfort, especially when you knew you couldn’t possibly repay him with money. You glanced around his study as you waited for him, examining the room and its surroundings. That was what the maid had told you to do when you first arrived.
Obviously, he was a busy man.
You couldn’t expect someone like him to spare much attention for a matter like yours, someone who had come here desperately begging him to release a father accused of a crime he didn’t commit.
It was pathetic, really.
You refused to accept defeat even when it seemed painfully clear that the odds were against you. So why had Judge Yoon even bothered to pay attention to someone like you?
Your thoughts scattered the moment the door suddenly opened.
The devil himself had arrived.
Mr. Yoon stepped into the room, looking as though he had just finished dealing with something important. “I apologize for the delay, Miss ___,” he said casually, tossing his coat onto the chair behind his desk. Then his eyes landed on you. “Now,” he continued coolly, “spit it out. What can you offer me?”
Something about Mr. Yoon was unsettling. He could combine politeness and cruelty within the same sentence.
You blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of his question. “Pardon?”
Mr. Yoon began unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves before rolling them up, exposing his forearms. “You heard me,” he said flatly. “Don’t pretend you didn’t.”
He stepped closer. Close enough that heat rushed to your face.
You didn’t know what to say.
Yes, you had agreed to this arrangement, but the thought of what it might truly mean suddenly made your resolve waver. A cold feet.
He could take your bakery. Your savings. Everything you owned.
But offering yourself—
That possibility had never crossed your mind when you first begged him. And now you are here. Standing in front of him, unsure of what you had truly agreed to.
“Or perhaps,” he murmured, his voice lowering, “you’re pretending you didn’t know what you signed up for… little bird.”
Suddenly, his hand gripped your waist. You gasped as he effortlessly lifted you onto the edge of his study desk. His arms caged you in on both sides, trapping you there as his gaze bore into yours—dark and unreadable. His hand moved to loosen his tie, the knot sliding down as he undid two buttons of his shirt.
The sound of his slow exhale made your body tense. It was obvious now that he was in a foul mood. And he had no patience left to entertain hesitation.
“I told you, I’m not a patient man…” he murmured lowly, leaning closer.
You felt his hands creep up along your thighs, the touch almost sensual, and instinctively you stopped him. His lips tugged into a smirk at your reaction.
“My, my, ___,” he drawled teasingly, “you’re making me look like a monster with that reaction.”
He chuckled softly as he withdrew his hands, resting them back on the desk on either side of you. His head tilted slightly as he studied your expression.
“You knew the price for this,” he continued. “If you can’t seem to pay the fee… you might as well pay with something else.”
His gaze lingered meaningfully as he leaned close to your ear. “…or rather,” he whispered, “someone else.”
With a casual flick, he popped open the button of your dress collar. The fabric loosened instantly beneath his fingers, and you gasped, hurriedly clutching it closed again. He chuckled under his breath, almost mockingly, as though amused by how flustered you were. “You act like a virgin.”
Then, unexpectedly, his expression shifted. “I have a daughter,” he said suddenly.
That made you pause.
“…She has always liked the castella cake I buy for her. Which is probably why you realized by now why I always purchase that specific one from your little bakery.”
You stayed quiet, unsure how to react. You knew he had been married once, but you had never heard that he had a daughter. The thought that someone like him was actually a father felt strangely unsettling.
“Her mother and I were arranged in a loveless marriage,” he continued casually. “I never felt any romantic attachment to her. But we had a child nonetheless.”
His fingers brushed along your cheek, and you shivered slightly at the unexpected gentleness of the touch. “But I do dote on my daughter,” he said, almost thoughtfully. “Quite a lot, actually. I cherish her.”
He paused for a moment before continuing. “Her nanny has grown rather old over the years. I’ve been looking for a replacement.”
Your brows lifted slightly in surprise. You weren’t sure if he was implying what you thought he was. You didn’t even know how old his daughter was.
He noticed the faint relief crossing your face. Then his hand suddenly slid back over your dress. You yelped softly when his warm palms settled against your bare thighs.
“Oh, don’t look so relieved just yet,” he murmured with a low chuckle. “I still have my interests in you, little dove.” His voice rumbled with quiet amusement as his fingers traced lightly over your skin. “You belong to me now,” he continued, his gaze locking onto yours.
“For a lifetime.”
His hands slowly brushed along the inside of your thighs. He leaned closer until his lips were a hair’s breadth from yours. “I’m having a bad day dealing with some outdated fools,” he murmured. “The least you could do for me is be good.”
His nose brushed against your jaw as he inhaled deeply, as though savoring your scent. You instinctively held your breath. One of his hands pinned your wrist against the desk while the other settled at the back of your nape.
His lips curved into a wicked smirk, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “You like this, don’t you?”
His hands slid higher, fingers grazing the lacy edge of your panties. A soft gasp escaped you before you could stop it.
He hushed you immediately, his voice dropping into something almost coaxing. “You signed up for this, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I think it’s far too late to back out now. Think about your precious papa sitting in that cell.”
This bastard.
He had done that on purpose, just to remind you.
You frowned, and he seemed to enjoy that reaction far too much.
Leaning closer, he pressed soft kisses against the edge of your ear before trailing them slowly down your jaw. He wasn’t touching you intimately, not truly, but it felt like he was.
Every brush of his fingers, every whisper against your skin set your nerves on fire. He was stoking something inside you, a slow-burning heat you weren’t sure you wanted to extinguish.
You weren’t even sure you could.
“Come now, little dove,” he breathed, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
“Are you going to be good for me… or do I need to make you?” His teeth grazed your earlobe, and you yelped softly. A biting tease, a silent threat. He wanted to hear you say it. And if you didn’t, he looked entirely prepared to make you beg.
His fingers slip beneath the fabric of your panties, touching your bare skin for the first time. Your whimper fills the air, a sweet sound that makes his blood sing with hunger. He feels the heat of you, the slickness of your folds. “Dirty girl, already this wet while waiting for me?” he taunts you, the soft pad of his thumb pressed against your clit, the way your body yields to his touch. It’s intoxicating, addictive, and he knows he’s found something he wants to possess completely.
Your face grew warm at the realization, feeling embarrassment rush over your entire face that you were capable of such a thing. You were definitely ashamed of it.
His fingers stroke through your folds, teasing, exploring—learning what makes you gasp and what makes you moan. “You’re so soft, so responsive. I can feel you throbbing for my touch already.” He continued to circle your clit with the pad of his finger, applying the barest pressure just enough to make you ache for more. His other hand slides up your side, cupping the soft swell of your breast, thumb pressing over the peak of your nipple through the fabric of your dress. He can feel it stiffen under his touch.
Part of it was that you hated how your body responded to him in every way possible. You couldn’t help but shudder at every touch he gave, your voice betraying you with involuntary sighs and soft whimpers.
“Look at you,” he whispers, voice rough with desire. “Coming undone with the simplest touch. I’ve barely started, and you’re already panting for me.” His fingers dip lower, slipping between your folds, feeling your slick heat coat his skin. “I wonder how long it will take before you’re begging me for more?” He curls his fingers inside you, stroking your inner walls, feeling them clench around him. His palm grinds against your clit, the pressure delicious and maddening all at once. From the looks of it, he’s not going to let up, not until he’s had his fill.
And judging by the way your body responds, you might just let him have it. “Keep your eyes on me while I fuck my fingers into you, sweetheart,” he drawled, his voice almost commanding. His dark eyes stayed fixed on you. Your mouth fell open as you struggled to maintain eye contact while he worked you through it.
His fingers thrust deeper—harder, the obscene sound of your wetness filling the room. “Can feel you getting closer, your cunt tightening around me. You want to come, don’t you?” He taunts you as he leans in, brushing your ear, breath mingling with yours. “Come for me then, sweetheart.” With that, his fingers pump harder, faster—driving into you with a newfound urgency. He can feel you tensing, your walls fluttering around his invading digits, and he knows you’re close.
You gripped his shoulders, tightening around him as you finally got your release, coming undone hard enough that you moaned out his name.
“That’s it,” he praises, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. He swallows your cries, drinking in the sweet sounds of your ecstasy. His tongue delves deep, tangling with yours as he claims you thoroughly. The kiss feels like more than simple desire. It’s as if he wants to devour you entirely, like he wants to crawl beneath your skin and stay there, chasing the heat and hunger only you seem able to give him.
When he finally breaks the kiss, you’re both left panting.
His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide with desire, a wicked glint flickering in their depths. He’s not done with you yet. Not by a long shot. “Fuck… that was intense.”
He slips his fingers from you, bringing them to his lips. You watch, dazed and pleasure-drunk, as he slowly licks your essence from his skin. The way his eyes never leave yours only makes the sight more embarrassing, more intimate than it should be. “Tastes better than that sweet cake itself,” he confesses, a filthy smirk tugging at his lips.
“For someone so defiant like a kitty, you sure listen to me obediently.” He laughs softly, the sound edged with mockery.
His hands grasp your knees before he sharply spreads your legs wider, making you gasp. His gaze never leaves you, firm and unwavering. “From now on,” he says calmly, “you’ll cater to my daughter’s needs… and meet me like this every evening at six.”
With that, he captures your lips in another heated kiss. Your protest is muffled as he maneuvers you roughly against the desk.
The rest is history.
…
You had never had a child of your own, nor had you ever imagined caring for one. However, that didn’t mean you were bad with children.
So when you met the current nanny, a woman probably in her sixties, you couldn’t help but feel slightly surprised. She didn’t look nearly as fragile as Jeonghan had exaggerated. If anything, she seemed rather firm, strict even like someone who had managed the Yoon estate for many years.
It was clear she had experience.
You had no doubts about her abilities. If anything, your doubts lay with Jeonghan himself.
Whatever reason he had for suddenly assigning you the role of caring for his daughter felt unusual. Why would he entrust you with something so personal? Of all people, he should know better than to let a stranger become this close to his family.
The thought lingered quietly in your mind.
Once, when you had tried to pursue your original profession, you had worried it might someday put your family at risk. Perhaps that was why things had never worked out the way you had hoped.
Perhaps there had been a reason you never managed to follow that path.
As you listened to the rules she explained, you soon realized she wasn’t merely the young lady’s caretaker. She had been managing the Yoon estate for many years. You didn’t ask for further details, but it was clear she must know Jeonghan far better than most.
When she opened the door that presumably led to his daughter’s room, she began, “You will only need to prepare teatime for Miss Yoon. You don’t need to concern yourself with the rest of the household.”
You blinked as you glanced through the small opening of the door. From where you stood, you couldn’t see the girl clearly. She appeared to be sitting by the window, her figure faintly reflected in the glass, but the details of her face were indistinct.
“Then… may I ask?” you said cautiously. “How old is the young lady?”
Your question made the old woman hesitate.
It was subtle, but you noticed the way her shoulders stiffened as she tried to remain composed. “…She’s ten.”
That was all she said.
Something about the way she answered made suspicion stir within you. She had been sharp and confident before, yet now there was uncertainty in her voice, her eyes avoiding yours.
As if she were lying.
You brushed the thought aside, not wanting to make it a bigger issue than it was.
Everything should be manageable. You could balance your time between the bakery and this new responsibility. After all, Jeonghan wasn’t that cruel.
For now.
Soon, you would have to attend your father’s trial.
And then what?
Even if Jeonghan truly guaranteed your father’s innocence, you knew things could never return to the way they once were. You had already paid the price. There was no backing out now. You had chosen this yourself, after all. And yet… a quiet unease lingered in your chest, as though you had stepped onto a path that would never let you walk away.
Joshua handled the proceedings with remarkable efficiency.
The case was brought before a different judge that morning, an older man with silver hair and a stern expression who barely spared a glance at the spectators filling the small courtroom.
Documents were presented. Testimonies reviewed.
Joshua spoke calmly but firmly, pointing out the inconsistencies in the accusation that had placed your father behind bars in the first place. What had once looked like an open-and-shut case slowly unraveled before the court’s eyes.
By the end of the hearing, the truth was painfully obvious. Your father had been wrongfully accused.
The judge adjusted his spectacles before delivering the final verdict. “Given the evidence presented,” he said gravely, “the court finds no grounds to continue this prosecution.”
Your hands tightened around the wooden bench.
“The defendant is hereby cleared of all charges and released effective immediately.”
The gavel struck.
And just like that, your father was free.
Your heart suddenly felt lighter. The heavy weight that had been pressing against your chest for so long finally began to lift. Though you knew there were still many things waiting to unravel in the future, you couldn’t guarantee that life would ever return to normal after this.
All you could do was pray that the world would be kinder to you from now on. Although… that felt like too much to ask after bargaining with the devil.
Your father would be released properly soon enough. For now, you and Joshua stepped outside the courtroom together.
It wouldn’t be a lie to say that you were curious about how Jeonghan had managed to secure someone like Joshua as an attorney so quickly. Then again, a man like him probably had connections everywhere.
You wondered if Joshua knew what lurked behind Jeonghan’s deception.
“Thank you for everything, Attorney Hong,” you said, offering him a small smile. “You helped us a great deal.”
In return, he gave you his usual gentle smile.
“I already told you to just call me Joshua,” he said lightly. “But yes, it is my job.”
You couldn’t help but wonder more about him, whether he knew anything about the truth behind all of this. You searched his expression carefully for any hint of the kind of manipulation Jeonghan carried so effortlessly.
But there was none.
“I know this may not be my place to ask,” you began slowly, “but… do you and Judge Yoon know each other?”
Joshua chuckled softly as he adjusted his tie. “Ah, there’s no need to worry about that. We’ve known each other since we were students,” he replied. “So when he suddenly asked me for a favour… I’ll admit it was rather unusual coming from him.”
“Oh,” you murmured. “A favour, you mean?”
Joshua hummed thoughtfully. “He didn’t specify much. Only that there was a complicated case he thought would suit me.”
So that meant he was unaware of your situation… and of your arrangement with Jeonghan. Still, the thought of anyone else learning about it made unease stir within you.
“Miss ___?” Joshua’s gentle voice pulled you from your thoughts.
“Yes?”
“This may sound a little forward,” he said carefully, “but… is there someone waiting for you?”
You blinked, trying to process his question.
Seeing your confusion, he laughed softly, his expression charming and warm. “My apologies,” he clarified. “What I meant to ask is… are you currently seeing anyone?”
It took you a moment to respond before you shook your head with a faint smile. “No… there isn’t anyone like that waiting for me.”
Joshua smiled, almost with relief. “Then… would you mind if I sought to court you someday?”
That truly caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected such a question. It wasn’t the first time someone had expressed interest in you. There had been others before, even Seokmin once.
But that felt like a lifetime ago.
You hesitated before answering. “…I’m sorry, Joshua,” you said gently. “I don’t think I’m in the right place to pursue love or marriage right now.” You offered him an apologetic smile.
If you were being honest, you had considered such dreams once. But those hopes had faded long ago, first because of your father’s illness, and now because of your situation with Jeonghan.
Perhaps a life of your own family simply wasn’t meant for you.
Joshua accepted your rejection with remarkable grace. “I understand,” he said calmly. “Then I can only hope that if fate allows us to meet again… you might consider me with an open heart.”
You smiled in return, grateful for his kindness.
He reached for your hand and pressed a gentle kiss against your knuckles. “Do write to me if you ever need my help.”
With that, he finally took his leave.
For some reason, you found yourself wishing him happiness. And deep inside, a small part of you hoped that perhaps, in another life or under different circumstances, you might meet him again properly.
As you watched Joshua disappear down the courthouse steps, a black carriage stood quietly across the street.
Inside it, a familiar pair of eyes observed everything.
...
Six o’clock was nearing.
You informed Chan to handle the closing at the bakery. After all, you trusted your staff completely, they had been working with you for years.
You also told your papa not to wait for you tonight. You claimed you had matters to attend to outside, much to his disappointment that you couldn’t spend the evening with him. It hurt more than you expected to lie to him like that.
You had told him you were fortunate enough to meet a capable attorney, that his case had been reopened through a petition. The lie tasted bitter in your mouth, but it was easier than explaining the truth. It pained you to lie to Seokmin as well. Though you had been careful and secretive about it, you could only hope he hadn’t noticed anything strange.
Something about the Yoon estate always made you uneasy.
There were maids and servants around, yet you could hardly feel their presence. They rarely spoke, barely interacted with anyone. Sometimes you wondered what the point of hiring them was if they behaved like shadows.
The only person who ever spoke to you normally was the nanny. She had been in the estate the longest.
It wasn’t the quiet that bothered you, it was the air itself. Something about it felt… unsettling. Perhaps it was just your imagination. Still, for such a large estate, the silence felt unnatural.
By now you should have heard a child running down the hallways, laughter echoing through the rooms.
But Miss Yoon wasn’t quite the child you had imagined.
It was strange, yet you never questioned it.
You replaced the tea and placed a fresh slice of cake on the table, just as the nanny had instructed. You didn’t look directly at the young lady, nor did you attempt to speak to her.
Still, you couldn’t help noticing that the table sat just beside the chair.
From behind, you could see the young girl sitting there, facing the window.
Unmoving.
At first, you hadn’t paid much attention to the details. But over time, you began to notice something odd.
The same warm tea would grow cold. The same slice of cake would remain untouched.
Morning. Afternoon. Evening. Night.
Every time you replaced them, they remained exactly the same. It felt wasteful, yet the nanny had insisted you change everything at every teatime.
A faint sense of dread began to creep into your thoughts.
While waiting for Jeonghan’s arrival, you took a quiet stroll through the estate. Your eyes wandered toward the library, a room that had quickly become your refuge. The shelves were filled with books of every kind, and whenever you had spare time, you found yourself drawn there.
Strangely enough, Jeonghan never seemed to mind. That alone unsettled you.
Your steps eventually slowed near a familiar door. His daughter’s room.
The door was slightly open.
You stepped closer, peering inside. The same chair faced the window, its back turned toward you. Once again, you could only see the girl’s silhouette.
You leaned slightly to catch her reflection in the glass.
Just before you could make it out—
“Miss ___.”
You startled at the voice. Mrs. Thompson stood behind you, her expression stern. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said firmly. “Lord Yoon will be arriving shortly.”
You blinked slowly, adjusting the silk robe around your shoulders. “…Right. I’m sorry. I was just returning from the library.”
Mrs. Thompson studied you for a moment before stepping forward and gently closing the door. Her movements seemed almost… protective or perhaps cautious.
Your attention then shifted to the suitcase she was holding. “Were you about to leave?” you asked, brows lifting in surprise.
The thought of her leaving so soon unsettled you more than you expected. If anything, you preferred having her around. It had only been a week since this strange routine began, and the estate already felt eerie enough.
She nodded. “I received a letter earlier today. One of my relatives has passed away,” she explained calmly. “I informed Lord Yoon beforehand. I trust you will be able to manage in my absence.”
“Ah… I see,” you murmured quietly. You tried not to show your disappointment. “My condolences.”
You were never the type to pry into other people’s affairs. Still, it was difficult to ignore when there were so many things left unexplained, so many mysteries surrounding this house. Everything in this estate… everything involving Yoon Jeonghan himself… felt unsettling.
Disturbing, even.
Ironically, when you first met him, you had assumed he was simply a lonely, sorrowful man. Now it felt like something far deeper than that. Whatever lay behind his actions, you knew better than to dig into it. Some things were better left unknown. Ignorance was bliss, as they say.
Your fingers drifted over the frame of a photograph resting on his mahogany desk, the very same desk where he had taken you before. The memory alone warmed your cheeks, and you quickly pushed the thought away.
The photograph showed a young girl. Her smile was angelic. You assumed it must be his daughter. At last, you were seeing her face clearly. It was almost amusing how much she resembled her father.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open.
Jeonghan had arrived.
You quickly set the photograph back down before turning toward him.
His eyes flicked briefly to the frame you had just replaced, then returned to you. “I assume Mrs. Thompson has already informed you about her leave?” he said casually.
He approached slowly, hands tucked inside the robe draped over his nightwear.
“She did,” you replied, straightening slightly. “Though I’m not sure when she’ll return.”
Jeonghan smirked. The expression alone sent a chill down your spine as he stepped closer, trapping you between him and the desk.
Your back pressed lightly against the wood.
“Why the worried face?” he murmured. “Afraid you’ll be spending more time here than you expected?”
You stiffened as he leaned down, his breath brushing beneath your jaw as he inhaled your scent. To him, the faint sweetness of flour and sugar lingering from the bakery, mixed with your soft perfume, was intoxicating.
“I wasn’t,” you replied.
But your voice came out softer than intended. Barely audible. Not when his face was already buried against your neck, his lips brushing down toward your collarbone while you instinctively steadied yourself with your hands against his chest.
He pulled back suddenly. His face hovered inches from yours. “Next time,” he said calmly, his dark eyes piercing into you, “try saying it properly. Like you’re standing in a courtroom… not whimpering beneath me.”
Heat rushed to the back of your neck.
The audacity of this man, placing the courtroom and your humiliation in the same sentence.
He chuckled. His hands slipped easily around your waist, pulling you closer as he hummed softly, clearly pleased by the sight of you in silk nightwear. “Don’t start acting shy now,” he teased. “Not when you were moaning my name beneath me just yesterday.”
You inhaled sharply, staring at him in disbelief. “Could you not say that?”
“Oh, of course I can,” he replied lightly. “You’re mine, after all.”
He tilted your head gently before pressing his lips to yours. This kiss was different. It was slow and sensual. Nothing like the rough intensity he usually showed. And you hated the way you found yourself melting into it.
You had never imagined something as simple as a kiss could feel so intoxicating—not when he deepened it, his tongue brushing against yours as though claiming you completely.
For a moment, you forgot why you were even here.
Eventually, you both pulled away, breathless. “You enjoy this more than you realize, little bird,” he murmured with a grin.
“Ugh.” You tried to turn away, but he caught your hips easily, holding you in place.
His chin rested against your shoulder as he whispered softly beside your ear. “Ah, ah. And where do you think you’re going?”
You exhaled slowly, your breathing shallow as your back rested against him, his arms loosely wrapped around you.
“Though I would prefer you to be more obedient,” he continued thoughtfully, “I must admit this defiant side of you is far more entertaining.”
His lips brushed gently against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.
He was infuriating. A cruel bastard.
Those were the words you wanted to say. In spite of that, you had made an agreement with him. Even so, the strange atmosphere of this house continued to nag at the back of your mind. Yet you dared not ask directly.
Instead, you tried something safer.
You asked about his daughter. “I haven’t heard her name yet,” you said carefully. “May I ask, if you don’t mind?”
For a brief moment, silence filled the room. You didn’t dare turn around to see his expression. You couldn’t tell if he was upset or something else entirely. But eventually, he answered. “Jiae,” he said simply. “…It means wisdom and intelligence, combined with love.” His voice softened slightly. “Isn’t that beautiful?” His fingers tightened slightly around your waist when he said her name.
You could feel his warm breath against your skin. For a moment, the way he held you felt almost like that of lovers.
Except that the two of you were nothing close to that.
You hadn’t expected him to answer so calmly. If anything, you had expected him to snap at you.
“It is…” you replied quietly.
The thought lingered in your mind. This man was a father, and yet he lived a life surrounded by corruption. You couldn’t tell whether it was driven by pleasure, greed, or hatred. Perhaps it was all of them.
Either way, you decided you would rather not know.
Come to think of it, you wondered if he had any other family aside from just him and his ‘daughter’. It wasn’t your place to ask anyway. You had your assumptions here and there, but you preferred to remain unbothered by them. Feeling a bit braver, you spoke up.
“...Are there any family members aside from just your daughter and you?” you asked softly, your head not daring to turn toward him as if he might bite the moment you did.
He only let out a faint chuckle, the kind that made every part of your skin crawl in the most eerie way. “Interested in my lineage, huh?” His grip tightened, squeezing your hips and forcing you to shift.
“To answer that…” he whispered against your ear in a way that felt almost intimate, both electrifying and unsettling. “…I’m quite distant from my parents. Ever since my late wife passed away, I’ve been distant from my in-laws as well.”
What does he mean by that?
Your lingering thoughts were abruptly cut off when he suddenly pushed you against his desk. Your palms instinctively caught yourself on the surface as you felt your body bend forward. You blinked in surprise, feeling him hover over your back. Your hips pressed against him, making you stiffen as a sharp inhale escaped your lips.
“Why? Interested in continuing my bloodline?” he whispered, his hot breath making you feel flushed at how close he was. His hands rested over yours, pinning them there.
His chuckle this time was crueler, as if he were mocking you or simply enjoying the way you reacted.
When you tried to protest and spin around, he held you firmly in place, making you gasp. The position was compromising, normally you would have tried to shove him away, but you couldn’t afford to provoke his temper. For someone with such a sharp tongue, he also had a dangerously quiet patience.
“Stay where you are, sweetheart,” he murmured lowly, his voice turning rough. “If you’re interested in being part of my family, the option is always open.”
A small, helpless whine escaped your lips when you felt him grind sharply against you. Your breath caught in your throat at his words. The implication alone was enough to make heat rush up your neck, your fingers tightening against the polished wood beneath your palms.
“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, though the protest lacked its usual sharpness.
Another low chuckle escaped him. “Am I?” he murmured, voice brushing against your ear as his chest pressed closer to your back. “You’re the one asking about my family.”
You swallowed. “That’s not what I meant.”
His fingers slowly slid over yours where they rested on the desk, deliberately intertwining them as if he were claiming the space between them. “But you’re curious,” he continued softly. “And curiosity always leads somewhere interesting.”
You tried to twist around to face him again, but his hand settled firmly against your waist, keeping you exactly where you were.
“Did I say you could move?” he asked, the amusement in his tone unmistakable.
A frustrated breath left you. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” he murmured, leaning closer so his lips nearly brushed the shell of your ear, “you keep coming back to me.”
The warmth of him behind you was impossible to ignore now. Every slight movement only made you more aware of how close he was, how easily he could keep you pinned there.
Your heart pounded louder than you liked. “You’re impossible,” you whispered.
“Perhaps.” His grip tightened slightly on your waist, not painful, just enough to remind you of the position you were in. “But you didn’t answer me,” he added quietly. “About joining my family.”
You scoffed under your breath, trying to regain some composure. “You’re the one who dragged me into this mess in the first place.”
“Dragged you?” he hummed. “That’s an interesting way to describe it.”
Before you could reply, he pressed himself against your back, one hand sliding around to your stomach while the other gripped your hip possessively. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck as he spoke with a needy rumble. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re not married.”
Your breath hitched, your mouth falling slightly open when you felt his other hand slide lower, cupping your inner thigh beneath the silk fabric, just close enough to touch you intimately. His other hand slid up from your hip, fingers tracing the underside of your breast through the thin fabric of your nightwear. Your heart racing beneath his palm, matching the frantic pounding of his own.
He nipped at your earlobe before trailing open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. Cupping your breasts fully, his thumb brushing against the peak of your nipple through the fabric. Letting out an audible sigh, your silk robe slipped slightly off your shoulder, the thin strap of your nightwear sliding easily down your smooth skin.
Jeonghan’s hand slid up, yanking the silk robe the rest of the way off. He pushed the outer layer aside as it pooled on the floor, exposing your skin to the cool air, and to his heated gaze. Now his hand cupped the soft swell of your breast, thumb brushing against the curve as he leaned in to whisper hotly against your ear, “You like this, don’t you?” He made a sharp thrust against your ass, yelping at the roughness. “Keep whimpering like that, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck you so hard until all you know is the feeling of me inside, around you, consuming you completely.”
His words send shivers down to your spine. He let out a low, feral growl as he pulled your nightwear up, the silky fabric, and ripped your panties aside, baring your most intimate area to his gaze. You could feel the heat of your core, the slick arousal that coated your folds and the cold air made you whimper. He wasted no time as his fingers slid through your slickness, teasing your entrance before pushing inside, filling you in one swift, hard thrust.
"Always so ready for me, little bird,” he groaned, “Can feel how much you want this, how much you need me inside you.” He pumped his fingers in and out of you, thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nubs. His other hand slid up to kneading the soft flesh roughly as he pinched and rolled your nipple between his fingers. Before you could even process the pleasure of having him finally touch you, he took it away from you.
You could only whine helplessly, feeling the surge of overwhelmedness, he was grinning and you tried to plead him wanting for more. At this point, you can’t help but to surrender to your desire for your desperate release.
Jeonghan didn’t waste no time in fulfilling your desperate plea, with a guttural groan, he hilted himself inside you with one powerful thrust, your body yielding to his as he stretched and filled you completely. A moan escaped from your lips, your walls clenching down around his hard length.
He set a hard, fast pace, pounding into you with a fervor you’d never experienced before. Each thrust pushed you forward, the desk creaking beneath you with the force of his lovemaking. One hand gripped your hip, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he held you in place. The other slid up to your throat, tilting your head back to expose the column of your neck to his hungry mouth. Licking and sucking at the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing your pulse point before he bit down, marking you as his. All the while, he never ceased his relentless thrusts, his cock driving into you deep and hard. Hitting that secret spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids.
He punctuated his filthy words with a sharp thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass as he filled you completely, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside your fluttering walls. You were blabbering nonsense as he fucked you, unable to keep your mind straight.
Jeonghan groaned deeply as he felt your walls fluttering and clenching around his throbbing cock, your body tensing as your climax approached. He redoubled his efforts, fucking you with wild abandon as he chased your pleasure, determined to make you come undone. “That’s it, darling,” he growled against your nape. "Come for me, I’ll pump your womb full with my seed and put a baby in you.” He could feel his own release building, his balls tightening as your velvet walls squeezed him like a vice. He gritted his teeth, fighting back his own climax, wanting to hold off until he could make you come first.
The thought of yourself pregnant with his child is almost frantic, yet your pussy clenched hard around his shaft, like you’re about to snap him in half. He chuckled darkly when he felt it, “You want that, sweetheart? I’ll make you a mother then, so that you could only depend on me.”
Suddenly, he felt your body stiffen and then convulse beneath him, your back arching as you cried out his name. Your walls flutter as your orgasm crashes over you. He mumbled out a cuss, his voice echoing off the bedroom walls. Jeonghan slammed into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside your spasming cunt. He let out a guttural groan, finding his own release as he filled you with his hot seed.
“You are so good to me, sweetheart.” he gasped out, brushing his lips against your nape, hips jerking erratically as he emptied himself inside you. “...so fucking good. You’re mine…all mine, remember that.” he whispered, placing a feverish kiss on your bare shoulder.
Chapter 3: A Confession To Be Told
You have been spacing out a lot lately. Sometimes you would be sleeping soundly beside Jeonghan, and then there would be moments when you felt strangely restless.
Both mentally and physically, you felt disturbed. You weren’t sure if you had lost track of your cycle, and your appetite had become so sensitive that you could barely eat properly. You figured it was simply the result of stress, managing the bakery along with everything else weighing on your mind.
Your thoughts were suddenly snapped away when Seungkwan called your name repeatedly as you stood at the cashier. “Are you alright?” he asked, examining you from head to toe as if trying to make sure.“You’ve been distant a lot lately. I hope you’re not seriously sick.”
You gave him a faint smile and shook your head. “I’m alright… just a little restless, perhaps.”
He didn’t seem convinced. His eyes lingered on the silver diamond necklace around your neck. “That’s beautiful,” he said. “When did you buy it?”
You didn’t answer right away. Absentmindedly, you reached up and gently held the necklace. Your mind drifted as you remembered it was given by Jeonghan. Though to you, it felt less like a gift and more like a collar, something meant to remind you that you belonged to him.
Instead, you gave Seungkwan a small smile. “It’s from a friend…” you said.
Seungkwan hummed thoughtfully as he continued packaging the goods. “Right. This friend of yours definitely knows how to choose the perfect gift for a lady.”
You didn’t reply. It almost sounded as if he was implying you were seeing someone, though the situation was far more complicated than he imagined.
Setting that thought aside, you greeted another customer approaching as usual, offering the warm smile you always wore. A man stood tall before you, his broad shoulders immediately catching your attention. He looked a little intimidating at first. You didn’t think you had ever seen him around before, probably a new face.
After he made his purchase, he gave you a small nod, and you returned it with a polite smile. It was unusual; you found yourself watching his figure until he disappeared from sight.
“Boo, do you know that man just now? I don’t think I’ve ever seen his face here…” you asked.
Seungkwan lifted his head from his work and thought for a moment. “Oh, yeah. He just recently started coming by. I think his name was Seungcheol?” he said. Then he added, “He usually comes around this hour when you’re not here.”
You turned to look at him. “Recently?” you questioned.
Seungkwan hummed in response. “Yeah, he said he’s kind of new here. Got dispatched here because of work reasons,” he shrugged casually.
You didn’t answer immediately. “…Oh. May I ask what his occupation is?”
“I think he mentioned something about investigation-related work,” Seungkwan said with another shrug. “I don’t know much though. Maybe he’s a police officer or something.”
Unexpectedly, Seokmin came in, his usual bright smile directed at you. It made your heart feel lighter for a moment, only a little. Sometimes you had forgotten that you’d been spending less time with him. You had even forgotten that you’d promised him a day out, something he had been looking forward to for a while.
So you went anyway, wanting to get some fresh air from everything. Just to breathe, even for a moment. You hoped he didn’t notice the weariness on your face that you sometimes tried to hide. The thought of him questioning you about it made you feel even more drained. You simply didn’t want to explain anything.
As the two of you strolled past the shops, you suddenly noticed a familiar figure across a boutique.
It was Mrs. Kwon.
Since when had her probation ended? You assumed you simply hadn’t been keeping track, but seeing her spending lavishly again, just like before. It reminded you that she had won favor in her previous case regarding her late husband. Ironically, she didn’t look sorrowful at all. In fact, it was the complete opposite. She looked exactly the same as she did before the case, as if nothing had ever happened.
Your suspicion stirred.
Then you remembered that Judge Yoon had been the one assigned to her case.
Did she bribe him too?
So occupied with your thoughts, you didn’t even hear Seokmin calling your name several times. You blinked and turned to him.
“Yes?”
He studied your face. “You’ve been so distracted lately. Your staff even told me you’ve been acting unusual,” he said with a sigh. “You know, if you’re feeling unwell, you can tell me anything.”
You smiled at him, a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, though you hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“I’m alright. Just a little restless, I guess.”
Seokmin smiled back, believing you. He continued browsing the jewelry displayed in the shop window.
“I was thinking of getting you something nice,” he said, “but when I saw that necklace you’re wearing, I decided to choose something else.”
Blinking, you glanced down at the necklace Jeonghan had given you.
“T-this?”
He hummed as he examined the different pieces of jewelry. “It got me thinking. The one you’re wearing is actually part of a matching set with a ring. It’s almost like a wedding gift.”
His eyes turned toward you.
Your throat suddenly felt dry. You didn’t know what to say. Did Jeonghan give it to you on purpose? Instead of feeling flattered, you only felt as if you were being trapped in something you had never agreed to.
Seokmin seemed not to notice your pale expression.
“It’s a shame,” he continued softly. “I was planning to choose that for you. I know you told me before that you don’t want to settle down yet, but I just wanted to make a promise with you.”
You felt a little lightheaded. Seokmin’s words never truly reached you. Your mind was flooded with too many things, and love simply had no space left within it.
“Are you alright, ____?” Seokmin gently held your hand, his voice soft with concern.
You steadied your breathing and nodded.
He could tell you were overwhelmed. Your lack of response made him flustered. “I’m sorry if I’m being too forward,” he said quickly. “I told you I would respect your decision—your space.” He inhaled slowly before continuing. “The truth is, I really want to be with you, ____. Lately, my family’s business has been facing a lot of problems. We’re dealing with some charges for reasons I don’t even fully understand yet.”
He hesitated before adding quietly, “I even got your father’s blessing for us.”
Your heart clenched.
“I just… I want to promise you the life I hope to build with you,” he said earnestly. “Maybe someday, when you’re ready, when you finally decide to find happiness with me.” You heard him clearly, his devotion, his sincerity. But you couldn’t accept it. Not when you were trapped in the circumstances you had created. Your life was no longer normal.
Sensing your silence, Seokmin rested his hand gently over yours and gave you a small smile. “Think about it, okay?” he said softly. “You know I’ve always loved you.” And yet the weight of the necklace around your throat felt heavier than ever. Even at this moment, when he wasn’t physically present, it felt as if Jeonghan was still there.
Then your eyes drifted past the glass of the shop window, and you saw the last person you expected to meet right now.
Jeonghan.
He was staring straight into your soul. Sitting inside the café across the street with one leg crossed over the other, he calmly sipped his drink. Had he been watching you the entire time while you were with Seokmin? The implication alone made your breath hitch.
Slowly, you withdrew your hand from Seokmin’s. Your pale expression was impossible to hide now. “I think… I need to go somewhere else first, Min,” you said suddenly. “We can… talk about this another time. After everything settles down, alright?”
You looked at him hopefully, wishing he would let it go. To your relief, he did, though you could see a hint of disappointment in his eyes when you indirectly avoided the conversation from earlier.
“Alright,” he said with a gentle smile. “Take care. I’ll be here whenever you need me.”
You nodded, offering him an apologetic smile before leaving the shop quickly. For some reason, your feet carried you straight into the café where Jeonghan was sitting.
He didn’t look surprised by your presence at all. Instead, he casually gestured toward the empty chair across from him. “Surprised, are we?” he said calmly. “Come. Won’t you accompany me on this lovely evening?”
You didn’t respond. You simply sat down across from him.
Whatever he was planning behind that calm expression, you refused to lower your guard. He had clearly seen you with Seokmin, yet it was impossible to tell what exactly was going through his mind.
He looked up at you now, his gaze steady and unreadable. He seemed… pleasant. That somehow made you even more uncomfortable.
“Is there any reason why you’re here?” you asked immediately, perhaps a little too sharply, as if you were trying to stop him from speaking first.
Jeonghan only grinned and placed his cup down with a soft clink. “Why? I’m simply enjoying my evening. I do have a life outside the courtroom, you know.” He hummed in amusement as he glanced out the window, toward the very place where you had been standing with Seokmin earlier. “I must say… that ‘friend’ of yours was rather touchy for someone getting close to a woman who doesn’t belong to him.”
The way he emphasized those words made you frown.
“He’s not just a friend,” you replied defensively. “He’s family. Perhaps even closer than that.”
Jeonghan hummed again, his eyes returning to yours.
“Is that so?” he said slowly. “Do family members usually propose to you and take you out to buy rings?”
You didn’t answer. Your palms tightened against the fabric of your coat.
He smirked at your silence. “And let’s be clear here,” he continued smoothly. “Does he even know you’re with me?”
You were about to reply, but he cut you off immediately.
“Don’t compare this to some cheap affair,” he said coldly. “Does it look like I treat you as a mere kept woman?” Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest with quiet arrogance. “The moment you made an agreement with me was the moment your life began to belong to me. Remember that.”
You stared at him in disbelief, momentarily at a loss for words.
“It’s unfortunate,” he continued casually, “that your friend happens to be the sole heir of his family business.”
Your ears sharpened immediately.
“I heard they’re currently facing charges involving money laundering. The opposing side has even approached me, asking if I would be willing to… assist them.”
Your brows furrowed. The implication became painfully clear in your mind. “Are you going to accept it?” you asked sharply. “Are you threatening me by putting my friend’s life at risk?”
Jeonghan chuckled softly. “Come now, little bird. You know it’s not my style to choose sides so easily. If something is too risky, why would I involve myself?”
He spoke casually, almost lazily. “Of course… it always depends on the case I’m handling.” He tilted his head slightly. “Though it’s usually quite obvious which side ends up being favored.”
Your heart began pounding violently. If the Lee family lost the case, they could go bankrupt–even if they were innocent. And judging from the way Jeonghan spoke so lightly about bribery and influence, it was clear he was playing with you.
Forcing you to choose. Just so he could remind you how much control he truly had.
“So?” he said with a soft tut. “The choice is yours, sweetheart. Say the word, and I’ll give you whatever you want.”
You could hear the amusement in his voice, see the faint smile tugging at his lips.
The Lee family has helped you and your father many times. Of course you felt indebted to them. The thought of them suffering while you knew the truth… you weren’t sure you could live with that guilt.
You had already given yourself to Jeonghan. What more could he possibly want?
Exhaling slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his. “What exactly do you gain from all of this?”
For a brief moment, he said nothing. He simply stared at you.
“You,” he answered at last.
You didn’t believe him. “Stop messing around,” you said, though your throat had gone dry.
Especially when the look in his eyes suggested something far more possessive. “Does it look like I am?” he asked quietly. He stood up and walked over to you, his steps slow and deliberate until he loomed beside your chair. “In return…” he murmured, leaning slightly closer. “You give yourself to me completely.”
Somehow, the necklace around your throat suddenly felt impossibly tight. Almost suffocating you, so that you can't even breathe.
…
You were never particularly religious, but sometimes you would stop by the church to offer your baked goods whenever they held Sunday prayers.
There were also days when you generously donated food to the orphanage, the lovely children who always welcomed you with bright smiles.
Lately, however, you had no reason to visit anymore.
And yet here you were now, early in the morning, sitting quietly in the church. You were the only one there as you clasped your hands together, your head bowed in prayer.
Everything had become so heavy. So difficult. With everything happening around you, you found yourself here, seeking solace and guidance, anything that might ease the turmoil in your heart. It felt as though you were walking straight toward the pit of hell, step by step, and there was no turning back.
You had never felt this lost before. Everything had become so complicated. When you finally finished your prayer, you let out a slow breath. Somehow, it made you feel a little lighter. Just a little.
The air inside the church felt cool and quiet. You should have been alone. Yet you could feel someone’s presence behind you. You didn’t turn around. “Speak,” you said calmly. “I know you’re there.”
A brief silence followed.
Then a voice spoke. “I apologize for disturbing you, madam,” the deep voice said. “My name is Choi Seungcheol. “Do you know a man named Yoon Jeonghan?”
You froze. Slowly, you turned to face the man. You tried not to show your surprise, but the mere mention of that name betrayed you.
“…No,” you said slowly. “…not personally. Why?”
The man named Seungcheol sighed as he stood up from the pew and approached you. You frowned immediately, your body going slightly rigid with caution.
“I would appreciate it if you didn’t lie to me,” he said calmly. “I saw you with him yesterday. At the cafe.”
You let out a defeated sigh and stood up. “In that case, I have nothing to say about this.”
You began to walk past him, intending to leave, when suddenly he grabbed your wrist. Your brows furrowed as you immediately yanked your hand away. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t pull people around like that,” you said sharply, glaring at him. “Do you always grab someone’s hand whenever you feel like it?”
You hadn’t meant for your words to come out so harshly, but lately you had been far more sensitive than usual. At this point, you couldn’t even bother trying to be polite anymore.
Why did a man always have to bother you every time?
Seungcheol studied you for a moment, unfazed by your sharp tone. “There have been reports of judges accepting favors, altering verdicts,” he said. He paused slightly before adding, “His name tends to appear around those rumors.”
Something about his words made your heart pound violently, so hard that you couldn’t answer him right away. You didn’t know whether you were walking on thin ice, or if your prayers had been answered a little too quickly.
Thanks to Jeonghan, your paranoia has probably worsened.
Seungkwan did mention what kind of person Seungcheol was, and you figured this must be what he meant.
“Rumors,” you echoed, looking away as if clinging to a false sense of hope. But what was the point? You had long since let that kind of hope fade. “A judge receiving personal profits is something anyone would say after losing a case,” you continued. “If it’s only a rumor and not an actual allegation, then I can’t answer that, sir.”
With that, you turned and began walking out of the church.
Seungcheol hurried after you until you stopped and turned around again. You were already exhausted from everything surrounding this situation—until he suddenly held out an envelope.
“Hear me out,” he said, slightly out of breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve been investigating this man. Four years now.” His expression hardened. “He’s not the kind of man you think he is.”
You stared at him, then at the envelope in his hand. Deep down, you already knew that. But whatever truth lurked inside that envelope… you weren’t sure if you could handle it.
Still, you took it.
Later, the two of you sat together, discussing everything in private.
A cup of warm tea sat between you on the table, untouched. You hadn’t even noticed it growing cold as you listened to Seungcheol recount everything he had discovered during his investigation. Case after case. Rumors of corruption. Suspicious verdicts. Influence that reached far beyond the courtroom. All you could do was sit there, almost hollow, as if your soul had already drifted somewhere far away. None of this truly surprised you.
Somehow, though, you still felt… lost.
Then Seungcheol mentioned something about Jeonghan’s past. Something that made you falter.
“What?”
Seungcheol spoke carefully. “I need your help,” he said. “If you can bring me anything from his mansion—documents, records, anything that could serve as evidence.”
“I can’t do that,” you replied immediately. “What if I find nothing?”
“You have to try,” he insisted. “It’s the only way we can prove it in court.”
You looked down again at the newspaper article inside the envelope. An old tragedy. An arson incident involving the Yoon residence. It reported the devastating loss of Jeonghan’s family.
Then something caught your attention.
His daughter.
Your heart began pounding again, this time in a far more unsettling way.
The article stated that both his wife and daughter had died in the fire. Their injuries had been too severe for them to survive.
“Seungcheol…” you said quietly. “Tell me more about this case.”
He leaned back in his chair, recalling what he remembered.
“It happened about eight years ago, if I’m not mistaken. From what I gathered, it was likely retaliation from people who were dissatisfied with the outcome of a trial.”
He continued, “Judge Yoon was assigned to the case. I’m not sure exactly how things escalated, but the losing side apparently didn’t take the result well. They wanted revenge.”
Your throat went dry.
“So they targeted his family.” He sighed. “It was tragic, really. I never thought people could go that far just because they doubted someone’s work.” He paused before adding, “Maybe that incident changed him. But whatever the reason, it still doesn’t justify what he’s doing now.”
His tone hardened. “He’s practically letting criminals walk free.”
You were already aware of that. But your thoughts drifted to something else.
To a specific memory. To the girl inside that mansion.
The one living there with you and Jeonghan.
“D-does that mean… he’s the only survivor?” you asked hesitantly.
Seungcheol shook his head. “He wasn’t even home at the time,” he replied. “He returned from work just as the mansion was already burning.”
Your stomach twisted.
“They said he was screaming when he saw the fire.”
God.
You suddenly felt like you were going to throw up. Then who was that girl in the house? The one you had been serving. The one you brought tea to every day. The one who never touched the cake you carefully prepared. You pressed a hand to your forehead as dizziness washed over you. Lately, you have been feeling like this more and more often.
Maybe even longer than you realized.
“Are you alright, ____?” Seungcheol asked.
You nodded weakly. “I’m fine,” you said, attempting to reassure him. But the effort barely held.
Chapter 4: The Beginning and The End
He was known as a ruthless and impartial judge, a figure many defendants hoped to avoid once they learned he would be presiding over their case.
Everything in Jeonghan’s life had always been dull and gray.
The reason he pursued his profession was simple: he was following in his grandfather’s footsteps, the former director of the courthouse of the Union State of Sebong. For generations, the same career had passed down within his family.
From his university days to where he stood now, he had done nothing but live under those expectations. Even his marriage had been arranged by his mother. He paid little attention to it at the time; it was obvious they expected him to marry someone of equal status–the daughter of the chief judge.
Although their marriage was strained, they eventually had a child.
It was a girl. Her name was Jiae.
For the first time in his life, Jeonghan experienced something close to genuine joy when he first held that small bundle of life in his arms. He adored his daughter dearly, doting on her every chance he could. She grew up to be a kind and intelligent child. But that joy lasted only a few short years.
One evening, while he was on his way back home, he saw something that made his entire world collapse. His mansion was burning. Flames raged violently through the building, lighting up the night sky. His expression faltered as he rushed forward, attempting to run inside, but someone stopped him before he could reach the entrance. People were already trying to contain the fire, shouting over one another as the flames consumed everything.
Everything happened all at once. The suffocating heat. The deafening chaos. Jeonghan screamed until his throat burned raw, calling his daughter’s name as if she could somehow hear him through the inferno.
As if calling for her would bring her back.
Eventually he collapsed onto his knees, watching helplessly as the fire devoured the building.
A week later, during the funeral, he could only stare blankly at the gravestone of his daughter. His wife’s grave stood beside it. All he could think about was how painful it must have been for her inside that fire. How scared she must have been. The thought alone felt like knives tearing through his chest.
Time passed, but his grief never faded.
Then one day, he discovered something that changed everything. Behind the arson attack was the truth about his father-in-law. The man had been arrested for accepting personal profits for years. One of the cases he had presided over involved war crimes. He had deliberately allowed the perpetrators to walk free.
The verdict enraged the victims, causing the entire village to rise in anger. That anger eventually turned into violence. The violence that reached Jeonghan’s home.
His daughter. His family.
Jeonghan gripped the newspaper tightly in his hands as the truth finally connected in his mind. Everything made sense now, but one question remained. Why did he and his daughter—have to suffer the consequences of someone else’s sins?
Strangely, he found that he felt little grief for his late wife. Their marriage had always been nothing more than a loveless arrangement. They argued constantly. The only thing that had ever kept him together… was Jiae. She was the only good thing this world had given him, and the world had taken her away. Years passed, yet he still couldn’t move on. He lived trapped in the bitterness of the past, isolating himself from everything around him. Work became the only thing that occupied his mind.
Until one day, something strange happened. He passed by a small shop.
Something about it seemed to call to him. Inside, the store was filled with dolls, rows and rows of them, staring silently from shelves and glass cases. It was one of the most eccentric places he had ever seen.
Custom-made dolls, he assumed. He wandered through the shop slowly, examining them one by one.
Then a man suddenly appeared beside him. He wore an apron and carried a wide, almost mischievous smile. A Cheshire grin. The man introduced himself as Jun, the owner of the shop. Jeonghan hadn’t even realized how their conversation had begun. But when Jun suddenly spoke about believing in magic, Jeonghan nearly scoffed. Jun claimed he could make anything come true. Naturally, Jeonghan found the idea ridiculous and was about to leave.
Until he saw it.
A doll.
No… not just a doll.
It looked almost exactly like his daughter.
Jeonghan immediately asked if it was for sale.
Jun refused.
“No matter the price?” Jeonghan asked.
Jun shook his head. “It’s not for sale.”
Jeonghan attempted to negotiate anyway, offering more money than most people could imagine.
But Jun remained firm. Instead, he offered something else.
A deal.
Jun explained that if Jeonghan truly wanted the doll, he would have to pay with something far more valuable.
Jeonghan frowned at that. If the man wanted money, he would simply say so. In spite of that, Jun kept insisting that what he wanted was something only humans could offer. Something more valuable than gold. When Jun mentioned something close to a soul, Jeonghan furrowed his brow.
And yet… he still accepted. So he made a deal with the devil.
From that day forward, Jeonghan began collecting greedy humans. Those who came to him with bribes, believed money could buy justice. He was selective with his clients. Even if they escaped punishment in court, their freedom never lasted long.
Soon after, they would disappear. Gone without a trace. Jeonghan never believed in witchcraft or supernatural nonsense, but watching them celebrate their purchased victories with dirty money only convinced him of one thing.
Hell was the only place waiting for them.
No one had the right to judge his sins except himself. He would never allow people like them to escape with the fortunes they used to corrupt the world.
And every soul he collected brought him one step closer.
Back in his mansion, the doll stood silently in its place. It looked almost alive. Life-sized, the same height as his daughter had once been. Its porcelain skin glowed softly beneath the light, dressed in a beautiful gown. Jeonghan treated it as if it were alive. He always returned home quickly, afraid she might feel lonely during his absence.
Sometimes he even spoke to her, as if she could hear him. He had convinced himself of one thing. If he collected enough greedy souls…
He might be able to bring her back to life.
…
The mansion felt unusually quiet.
It had always been quiet, but something about the air now felt even more eerie than before. After discovering everything from Seungcheol—who claimed to be part of the officers, you couldn’t see this place the same way anymore.
You knew Jeonghan had never been a good man. Whatever the reason behind it, you somehow found yourself capable of feeling a little sympathy for the tragedy that had happened to him. Still, none of his actions could ever be justified. It simply didn’t make sense.
Losing a child was something no parent could easily overcome. You could empathize with him for what he had been through, but grief was something a person had to face on their own. Yet the conflicting emotions only made your head ache the more you thought about it.
You have been emotionally sensitive lately, restless and easily overwhelmed. You really needed to take better care of yourself, especially when you were walking a line as fragile as a tightrope.
Before coming here, you made sure to tell Seungkwan and Chan to take care of the bakery in case there were days you wouldn’t return. They had looked confused, but you brushed it off. You even wrote a letter to Joshua. You couldn’t help it. In a situation like this, where you couldn’t tell anyone, not even your father, he was the only person you could trust. Perhaps it was because he was an attorney, someone you might eventually need to rely on.
It felt almost like you were foreshadowing something terrible the moment you stepped into Yoon’s mansion.
What if he suddenly decided never to let you leave? You needed to stop thinking like that.
Your hands trembled as you tried to steady the tray, the slice of cake and the teacup rattling slightly against the porcelain. Eventually, you gave up and placed it back down.
“You seem rather unwell these days,” Jeonghan’s voice came from behind you. He pushed himself away from the doorframe and slowly approached. “Exhausted, perhaps?”
You sighed softly, remaining where you stood, your arms folded loosely around your silk robe. “Maybe.”
He hummed quietly, studying the way you absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll take care of it,” he said calmly. “Go and rest.”
Yet somehow you still found yourself following him as he carried the tray toward his daughter’s room.
You stopped at the doorway. You didn’t dare step inside. From where you stood, you watched him carefully place the plate and teacup on the small table beside the chair facing the window. The figure sitting there had its back turned, only visible from your angle.
The soft melody of a music box filled the room as he opened it.
Jeonghan began speaking to her. His voice was quiet, almost gentle.
You couldn’t bear to listen. Letting out a slow breath, you stepped back and leaned against the wall outside the room.
The lullaby from the music box should have sounded comforting. Instead, it made your skin crawl. Something about it was too eerie, too wrong. You felt frozen in place, as if your body didn’t know whether to run or stay. There was no way he could be keeping a living corpse in there. If that were true, you would have noticed something before—the smell, the decay, the unmistakable signs of death.
But the last time you stepped inside the room, it smelled faintly of flowers.
And the glimpse you caught… the smooth skin, almost porcelain-like. Far too perfect to belong to anything human.
In the end, you quickly returned to the bedroom—his room, or rather, the one you both shared now. You wouldn’t even be surprised anymore if he suddenly showed up one day with a ring, just to seal the deal.
After a while, you saw him enter the room carrying another tray with two teacups. “Drink up,” he said simply. You sat up from the bed and took the cup, glancing down at the liquid before looking back at him.
He chuckled lightly, taking the cup from your hand and sipping from it before returning it to you. “What?” he teased. “Do you think so little of me that I’d poison you?” You didn’t protest, sipping from the same spot his lips had touched. An indirect kiss. The aroma of the tea filled your senses—ginger and peppermint, you thought. It soothed the nausea that had been bothering you lately.
The gesture itself was strangely sweet, and yet you still found yourself drawn back to him. It wasn’t like he had ever been violent with you. He had never once raised a hand to harm you.
Only rough in bed.
Ironically.
You placed the cup aside. He was sitting at the edge of the bed beside you. The moment felt almost too calm. For someone like him, he was the perfect image of an angel in disguise, acting like a gentleman even though you knew deep down he was crueler than the criminals he judged. You wondered what he had been like with his late wife. He had mentioned it was a loveless marriage. Still, imagining him with a lover was the last thing you would have expected.
Then again… he was a father. Humans were complicated like that. Even they could never fully understand their own hearts.
“You’re acting strange today,” you said, glancing toward him.
He only grinned and leaned closer across the bed. You had already grown used to the closeness. “Am I?” he murmured with a soft chuckle, his nose nearly touching yours. “It’s a little sad that you didn’t come in earlier. My daughter has grown rather fond of your presence.”
You froze for a moment, your eyes searching his.
Still, you forced yourself to remain calm. “…Is that so?” you replied slowly. “I didn’t realize my presence mattered that much.” He hummed, his hand gently cradling your face before leaning in to kiss you.
You kissed him back.
“It does,” he whispered softly. “And what if I told you she wants you here forever?”
You pulled back slightly, studying his face. “Don’t joke about something like that.”
“I wasn’t joking.” His eyes remained fixed on yours, completely serious.
For a moment, neither of you moved. The distance between you was barely a breath. You sighed quietly and pulled him back into another kiss. He groaned softly against your mouth. “You’re rather needy today, little bird.”
You exhaled softly against his lips. “I’m emotionally sensitive these days,” you murmured before pressing your lips to his again. You needed warmth, something comforting. And the only person you had was him. Jeonghan didn’t deny you. He gave you exactly what you wanted as your kiss deepened. For a moment, you tried to forget the uneasiness creeping through your mind, the fear that lingered in the corners of this house.
And the only place you could hide from it…
Was in him.
…
You had never felt so anxious, so mentally exhausted and drained. Now, standing in front of his daughter’s room felt deeply ominous.
Slowly, you pushed the door open.
Your trembling hands steadied the tray as you placed it carefully on the table, trying your best not to look at the figure sitting beside it. As much as you wanted to know, you had never felt this afraid before. Not wanting to know the truth felt safer. Because sometimes the nightmares were already bad enough when you woke up beside Jeonghan. Your thoughts drifted back to Seungcheol’s words. So far, you haven't found anything. You had searched his study room before, hoping to find documents or evidence that could help, but there was nothing.
Nothing at all.
And you had never dared to check inside this room. Until now. Because you had simply been too scared.
Slowly, you forced yourself to look.
Your eyes moved toward the so-called person sitting by the window. You froze. Your feet carried you forward without thinking, moving slowly to the side so you could finally see it clearly.
Its eyes were closed. The lashes looked almost real. Everything about it seemed delicate… beautiful even.
And yet, it wasn’t alive.
You stepped back abruptly, your heart racing at the realization. When you looked closer, there was no doubt.
It was a doll. A life-sized one, crafted with terrifying precision.
For a moment, you couldn’t even tell if it had once been a real body that had been turned into this thing. The thought alone made your stomach twist violently.
You nearly collapsed right there.
Then suddenly—
A soft lullaby began to play. You jolted in shock, turning around quickly.
The music box.
You must have brushed against it accidentally. The tiny ballerina inside spun slowly as the melody filled the room. The atmosphere instantly became unbearable.
Too quiet. Too eerie. Too wrong.
You needed to get out.
Now.
But before you could turn away, Jeonghan was already standing in the doorway.
You flinched.
“I thought the nanny told you before,” his voice said calmly. He didn’t sound angry. But the look in his eyes told you everything. You had discovered something you were never meant to see. Your words stumbled over themselves as you slowly stepped backward, your heart pounding violently. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet.
Why was he here?
“I—I was…” Your voice faltered as you tripped slightly against the bed when he continued walking toward you. “…I thought you would be home late.”
“I was,” he replied calmly. Now he stood over you, trapping you against the bed, his hands resting on either side. “…but I figured if I came home early,” he continued softly, “I could see my girls sooner.” His gaze slowly dropped to your stomach. “…and my little one.”
Your breath caught sharply.
The implication hit you instantly. You had already suspected it, the nausea, the dizziness, the strange exhaustion. You never imagined that he would notice, or that he would accept it so easily.
Then suddenly, both of you turned your heads when you heard a loud commotion outside.
Jeonghan moved quickly to the window. From above, angry voices echoed through the night. People were shouting—furious, chaotic.
He muttered a curse under his breath.
You watched him in confusion as he began pacing across the room. Then you saw him pull something out from the drawer.
A revolver.
Your eyes widened in alarm. “What does this mean?” you demanded, almost frantic. “Tell me right now, Jeonghan.”
You needed answers.
And whatever was happening outside didn’t look good at all. He didn’t answer, instead, he grabbed your hand firmly. “Be quiet,” he said sharply. “Just follow me if you want to stay alive.”
He began pulling you toward the doorway—
But suddenly someone barged into the room.
Both of you stopped abruptly.
Jeonghan immediately stepped in front of you, shielding you behind him. Your heart pounded violently as you tried to understand what was happening.
The man standing before you was someone you recognized all too well.
The same bastard who had framed your father.
And judging by the fury in his eyes, he had come here with only one purpose.
“I told you, Judge Yoon,” the man sneered. “I thought we had an arrangement. Yet you decided to betray it so easily when I needed your help.”
His gaze shifted toward you. “So this is what it’s about?” he scoffed. “You chose that wench instead? When I offered you a fortune in gold to help me?”
Jeonghan let out a cold, mocking laugh. “It aches my heart a little,” he said dryly, “but I let my gavel fall cleanly—for money.”
The man’s expression hardened instantly. He raised his gun, pointing it directly at both of you. Your breath hitched as fear surged through your body. Your grip tightened around Jeonghan’s hand.
“Say that again,” the man hissed, “and I’ll make sure you finally get what you deserve.”
Jeonghan remained completely unfazed. “I would never hand over my fortune to the likes of you,” he replied calmly. “Especially not someone who pretends to be a kind businessman in public while secretly stealing from orphanages.”
The gunshot rang out suddenly.
You flinched, but the bullet didn’t hit either of you. Your trembling hands clutched Jeonghan tighter as you looked up at him.
That was when you noticed—
He had already raised his revolver. Pointed straight at the man. A broken sound escaped your throat as panic flooded your chest. Then you smelled something.
Smoke.
Your head snapped upward to see the ceiling above was beginning to burn. Flames crept along the corner near the window. Your entire body froze in terror.
“Déjà vu, isn’t it?” the man chuckled bitterly. “I thought you should be reminded why all this is happening. By now you should know that dreaming of something mo—”
A gunshot cut him off.
Jeonghan fired first. The bullet tore through the man’s arm, forcing a painful grunt from him.
But the man fired back immediately.
The second shot struck Jeonghan in the side. He grunted in pain.
Before the man could react again, Jeonghan fired the final shot. The bullet pierced straight through the man’s head.
He collapsed instantly. Dead.
You screamed. Horrified, you rushed forward just as Jeonghan’s body began to give out. He collapsed into your arms as you fell to your knees with him, carefully lowering his back against you as blood began pooling from the wound at his side.
A broken breath escaped your lips as your hands pressed desperately against the injury. “No—no, no… why did you do that?” you cried, panic overwhelming you as his eyes half-closed in pain.
“Fuck…” he hissed weakly. His gaze lifted toward your face. For a moment, something strange flickered across his expression. A moment of realisation hits him, he hated seeing that look on your face. That terrified, devastated expression.
Perhaps this would be the first time… and the last.
It was a shame that this face of yours might be the final thing he would remember. Then again… there would be no afterlife waiting for him.
Only hell.
The smoke thickened around the room, the flames slowly climbing across the walls. You struggled to keep Jeonghan upright, your hands trembling as you pressed against the wound on his side.
“Get up,” you pleaded desperately. “We have to go, the house is burning!”
He barely moved. His breathing was uneven, but his eyes were strangely calm.
Then, a sudden voice barged in, calling your name. A voice shouted through the smoke.
You turned your head sharply to see Seungcheol burst through the doorway, coughing as he stepped inside. His eyes immediately scanned the scene, the dead man on the floor, the flames spreading along the ceiling, and you kneeling beside Jeonghan.
“Are you insane?” he barked. “The whole place is about to collapse!”
He rushed toward you and grabbed your arm. “We’re leaving. Now.”
“No!” you cried, pulling away. “He’s hurt—he can’t walk!”
Seungcheol glanced down at Jeonghan briefly. Their eyes met for a moment. Something silent passed between them. “He made his choice,” Seungcheol said firmly.
“I didn’t!” you snapped back. “I’m not leaving him here!” You tried to pull Jeonghan up again, but he stopped you. His hand gently caught your wrist.
“…Little bird.” His voice was softer than you had ever heard it before.
You froze. The fire crackled loudly around you.
“You should go.”
Your head shook immediately. “No.”
“I’m serious.”
“You’re bleeding!” your voice broke. “You can still make it, we just have to—”
His gaze shifted past you. Toward the room, the room where his daughter sat waiting. “…She’s still there,” he murmured quietly.
Your breath caught. “Jeonghan…” you whispered, horrified.
“You should leave before the roof collapses,” he continued calmly. “You shouldn’t stay in a place like this.”
You grabbed his shirt desperately. “I’m not leaving you!”
For the first time, something in his expression softened. His hand slowly moved to your stomach. “…Take care of them.”
Your chest tightened painfully.
“Don’t say that.”
“I’m serious.” His thumb brushed lightly against the fabric. “…You’ll be a good mother.”
The words made your vision blur with tears. Seungcheol stepped forward again, grabbing your shoulders.
“We don’t have time for this!” he snapped. “The fire is spreading!”
You struggled against him. “No! Let go!”
Jeonghan watched silently. Then he spoke again.
“Take her outside.”
Your eyes widened. “You don’t get to decide that!” you cried. But Seungcheol had already pulled you away. Your nails dug into the floor as you tried to hold on.
“Jeonghan!”
For a moment, he simply watched you. The flames reflected faintly in his eyes. “…It was nice,” he said quietly.
You stopped struggling. “What?”
“For a while.”
Your chest tightened painfully.
Then he turned his gaze away. Toward the hallway, to the room where the doll waited.
“Go.”
Seungcheol didn’t hesitate this time. He dragged you toward the exit as the fire roared louder behind you. “Jeonghan!” you screamed, your voice breaking as the smoke swallowed the room except that he never turned back.
Everything blurred together. Seungcheol had finally dragged you out of the mansion, and now all you could do was watch as the fire swallowed it whole. Flames roared violently, devouring the entire building while people around you shouted, rushing back and forth trying to control the chaos. It was too much. Your shaking gaze drifted upward toward the floor where he had been. From outside, you could only see the fire consuming everything. A broken, devastated wail escaped your lips. You tried to rush forward again, desperate to go back inside, but Seungcheol was faster, grabbing you before you could do something reckless.
“No—!” you cried, struggling against him. But his grip tightened as he pulled you back.
All you could do was cry as he held you in place.
Your body slowly grew weak, your knees finally giving out beneath you. Seungcheol followed you down as you collapsed, kneeling beside you while trying to steady your trembling shoulders.
“It’s over,” he murmured firmly, though his voice softened slightly. “You can’t go back in there.”
It felt strange that you were capable of feeling something like this for Jeonghan. The man who had brought so much misery into your life.
And yet…
You had never truly known what lay behind the mask he wore. You knew it wasn’t love, not even close. Somehow, the warmth you had felt from him, however small, had not been completely fake. Maybe some small part of it had been real. And somehow… that realization hurt. Or maybe it was just the hormones.
Everything around you slowly became distant. The noise, the fire, the shouting. Your vision dimmed as exhaustion and shock finally overtook you. And before you realized it, everything went black.
In the burnt remains of the mansion, they would later find what looked like the charred bodies of a parent and a child.
At least, that was how Jeonghan might have seen it. In truth, all they found was the body of a solitary man… and a scorched porcelain doll.
Eight years had passed.
You placed the flowers gently on the gravestone. The name Yoon Jeonghan was engraved across the stone.
It had been a long time since your last visit. Your eyes lingered on the name for a moment, something distant stirring in the back of your mind.
“Mama, who is this?” Your daughter looked up at you with curious eyes, her small hand swinging as she held yours.
You smiled softly and patted her head. “Someone I knew in the past…” You turned when someone called your name. Your husband stood a short distance away, waiting patiently.
Joshua.
“Why don’t you go to Papa first, sweetie?” you said gently. You knelt down to her level, and she nodded before running toward her father. Joshua laughed softly as he easily lifted her into his arms. You slowly stood up again, giving the gravestone one last glance before finally turning away.
After a while, you returned home. Not long after entering, you noticed a package waiting at the door. It was a medium-sized box, carefully wrapped with a ribbon. You frowned slightly as you picked it up.
Your daughter bounced excitedly beside you. “Jiae, don’t jump around,” you scolded lightly. “You’ll hurt yourself.” She pouted but watched eagerly as you untied the ribbon and opened the box.
Inside was a porcelain doll. Beautiful and delicate.
You said nothing at first, a strange sense of déjà vu crawling over your skin. Jiae giggled happily and immediately picked up the doll, holding it carefully in her arms. You noticed a small card attached to it. It must have been from the sender. You frowned. You couldn’t remember Joshua mentioning anything about a gift. And you hadn’t kept in contact with many people since your marriage, aside from your father.
You turned the card over and read it.
He told me to give this to you.
His final wish.
— Jun W.
Your brows furrowed. You assumed it was a shop owner. A workshop, maybe. But that only raised another question. Who would send this to your address? You were certain you had never given it to anyone… except your father. Another card rested inside the box. Your hand hesitated before picking it up.
Slowly, you read the message.
I hope you love this gift.
I made sure she resembles our little one.
— Y. J.
You froze. Your gaze slowly lifted toward your daughter, who was already playing happily with the doll across the room. Your steps felt heavy as you walked toward her. When you looked closer at the doll in her arms, your breath faltered slightly.
It looked… strangely familiar, not exactly the same, but close enough. Uncomfortably close.
Jiae looked up at you with a bright smile. “Look, Mama! She’s pretty!” You forced a small smile in return. Jiae hugged the doll tightly, “Mama, can I keep her?” You watched the porcelain face for a long moment.
Somehow… it felt like the past had found its way back to you. Even after all these years, some things never truly disappeared. And perhaps, some legacies refused to be buried.
FIN(?)
a/n: ah, we've come to the end! dang, that was tragic but pls don't romanticize these lol. i honestly sleep with an eye open after re-reading back to this story cuz idk how i came up with that plot tbh (i had a vocaloid phase, so ig i would say it was based from that lore series lol). reblogs n comments are appreciated. thanks again, dear apples!
Synopsis ✨ You love your husband with all your heart but the man has one major flaw. He is disgustingly lazy. And he's gotten used to you putting in all the effort in the bedroom. Sadly for him, he's about to find out the hard way just how much you do for him.
Genre ✨ Established relationship, married au, smut, fluff, a touch of angst
Warnings ✨ cock warming (more of an argument whilst she sits on him tbh), sort of Dom Jeonghan but he just a filthy mouth and his a little mean with it, angst (OC feels neglected), he wakes her up with his fingers, vaginal fingering, cum play, nipple play, p in v sex, love making, cum eating, he cums on her stomach, he's a cutie when he's not being an ass
Word Count ✨ 4.8k
a/n ✨ I was watching old eps of going seventeen and was hit with how much I missed Jeonghan, so this is the result of that haha (: also, just before posting this I saw a tiktok that it's only four more periods before he's back!! I can't believe how fast it's gone!!
Your husband was the greatest person you’d ever met. The day you married him is still the happiest day of your life. And when you married him, you knew he liked his home comforts, knew he was a little on the lazier side, but you didn’t mind it. It was what made him, him.
But recently he’d gone too far.
Sex with Jeonghan was great, it always had been. But he was taking laziness to a whole new level. He wants to eat you out? You’re sitting on his face then he can lay down. Having sex? You’re riding him. Gone are the days when he’d make you kneel in front of his standing figure and use your mouth for his every whim. No. Now you were the one doing all the work and he was about to learn just how much you actually do for him.
You’d picked out new lingerie, black lace with red accents, which, even though you say so yourself, made your tits look incredible. The thong was barely there, and you’d even done your makeup perfectly, wanting to look your absolute best for him.
It’s no surprise where you find him. He’d come back from a long day at practice, saying he’d been dancing all day and so needed to nap before dinner. You’d have believed him and left this little plan for another day if you hadn’t received an annoyed text from Seungcheol at lunch time, telling you your husband had been complaining all morning about you keeping him up all night and so only did a basic practice today. The nerve of the man when he’d dosed off at 9pm and didn’t even move around in his sleep until he woke up at 8am this morning. And yet here is, back on the bed, scrolling through his phone with his hand behind his head. Not a care in the world.
You stand at the end of the bed, waiting for him to notice and it doesn’t take long.
He glances at you, offering you a half assed greeting, before doing a double take and dropping his phone.
His eyes eat you up, flitting between the fact your thong is barely covering your pussy and the way your tits are spilling out of the push-up bra.
“What’s all this honey?”
He doesn’t even look at your face, just licks his lips staring at your tits. He may be high maintenance compared to most men, but at the end of the day they’re all the same. They see tits and they lose all thoughts in their heads.
“I wanted to treat you.” Your words are sweet on your tongue as you crawl towards him, placing yourself on top of him, his hands coming up straight away to hold your hips.
“These are nice,” his eyes move down your body, “are they new?”
“Yes. You bought me them today as a gift.” You weren’t going to spend your hard-earned money to teach him a lesson.
“Is that right?” his smirk is wicked, his cockiness will only make this all the sweater, “I chose well then. You look beautiful honey.”
You might be teaching him a lesson, but his compliments still shoot straight to your heart like they always have.
You lean forward placing delicate kisses along his jaw, his eyes closing in contentment automatically, as you lower your kisses down his neck. He moves his head a little to allow you more room for your tantalising little pecks and you lift his t-shirt up to take it off. Jeonghan leans forward a little so you can take it up and over his head, his perked-up nipples drawing your attention straight away.
You glance at him, his smirk still plastered on his lips, before you lower your head down and take one of his nipples in your mouth. His back arches off the bed slightly when he feels your teeth glide over it teasingly, wanting you to bite down on it like you know he loves. And so, you do, you want him to feel like he’s being spoilt and that this is all about him, the moan he lets out sends a spark straight to your pussy and you feel his dick hardening slightly beneath you.
You turn your attention to his other little bud, a sigh leaving him as he feels your tongue running tight circles around his nipple before you bite down on it. His hips move a little beneath you, you can tell he’s almost fully hard just from this.
“You’re so good at that.”
“Of course I am,” you giggle a little, “I know what my perfect husband likes. What he needs.” You look down at him, moving his hair back off his forehead as you take in the beauty of him. He might be fucking annoying, but you could never say he wasn’t truly beautiful.
“What do you need?”
Now that’s a question he isn’t going to like the answer to, in the long run.
“Want you inside me. Been thinking about it all day.”
“Then don’t let me stop you, honey. Take what you need, let me feel you.”
So, you do. You take off his pants and underwear, freeing his dick as you go. Now fully hard it sits against his toned stomach, tip pink and just waiting for you to take him. He makes no attempt to move, because why would he?
You move back to straddle him, there’s no point in taking your thong off, it barely covers anything anyway, instead you move it to the side and run your fingers through your wet folds, collecting some of your essence on your fingers, your husband eying you hungrily. You were going to use the wetness to lube up his dick slightly but he’s staring at the clear strings of you on your hands with such hunger that you give in.
“Open.”
He does. Because he’s lazy but he’s a good boy when he wants to be, and you stick your fingers in his mouth.
He hums at the taste, tongue swirling around your two fingers with his eyes closed in happiness.
You take the opportunity to line him up with your aching core, this might be pay back but fuck you’re always ready to take him. Normally there’d be a little more foreplay, him never wanting to hurt you with no prep, but you’ve got yourself so worked up all through today at the thought of having him inside you, of making him squirm, that you’ve been dripping for your husband, for hours.
The tip pushes through and you slowly lower yourself down onto him. Jeonghan moans around your fingers, sucking them even more eagerly, from the way your gummy walls swallow his now throbbing dick, making him even more needy.
He’s filling you up so nicely and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to ride him like you’ve never ridden him before. But sadly, for you and him. Now. You wait.
You don’t move, try not to clench, don’t even grind yourself down on his perfect dick once. You just sit there.
His sucks your fingers for a few more seconds before his eyes open slowly, peering at where your body connects with his, eyes wide, with your fingers still in his mouth.
It’s clear he’s pretty fucking confused. Good. He should be.
He takes your fingers out of his mouth, still looking at where your pussy meets his groin, not really knowing what this is all about. You’ve always had an active and exciting sex life, so why are you just sitting there?
“What are you doing?”
“Waiting.”
“For what?”
He looks even more confused. Have you organised another person to join you? He’s always told you he’d hate that, he can’t bear other men and women glancing at you, let alone touching you.
“To have sex.”
“We are.” He’s baffled. His eyebrows knit together and he looks up at you like a lost puppy. “Is that not what my dick in your cunt normally means?”
Normally his vulgar language would turn you on, but now you’re just willing yourself not to clench around him and let him know you liked that.
“It does.”
“Then move _____.”
Lazy, lazy man.
“You see, honey, I looked up the word sex in the dictionary. And it says nothing about it being an act where only one person does something to make another person feel good.”
“What are you even talking about? Why are you looking up rude words in the dictionary, are you 10?”
Dickhead. You’ll drag this out even longer just for that comment.
“No, I’m not 10. But are you 102?”
“What do you mean by that?!”
His dick twitches slightly as he raises his voice and you will yourself not to move. You won’t be beaten by this beautiful, petty man.
“It means, honey, that this is what happens when you don’t pull your weight.”
He stares at you, eyes wide in horror. The penny may just have dropped.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Am I?!” You laugh sarcastically, the unknowing clench you make around his dick causing him to moan, “Because it’s a pattern, isn’t it Jeonghan? You just lying there whilst I do all the work.”
“That’s not true, I fucked you in the shower two days ago!”
“I rode you in the shower two days ago. You had that shower deigned so big that it warranted a ledge being built in, so your lazy ass could sit down in the shower.”
His mouth opens and closes, having been thoroughly caught out.
“And so now this is what’s happening. I’ll wait until you can be bothered to fuck me like you used to.”
Your resolve crumbles a little when his dick twitches again, but you stay strong.
“It won’t work _____. You’ll get bored and I’ll go soft and you’ll have waisted that fucking slutty outfit on nothing.”
You know what’s doing.
“That won’t work Jeonghan. Say what you like, I won’t give in.”
A look of mischief flashes through his eyes. His competitiveness kicking in. But sadly, it’s a trait you both share.
“What won’t work? Me telling you that you’ll have missed out on feeling my fat dick hitting that perfect spot deep inside your pussy, if you don’t start fucking moving right now?” his teeth are gritted, trying to will you to move.
You don’t move though. Your cheeks redden, but you don’t move.
“I can see what you’re doing, desperately trying not to move your pussy, but your pussy is what’s giving you away baby. I can feel you trickling down my balls. Even just sat there, pretending to be in charge, your pathetic little hole is giving you away.”
Ok, maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Because he seems to be thriving, dick getting impossibly harder as he sees you reacting to him against your will, whilst you’re struggling more and more.
“Thought you could teach me a lesson? And this is how you choose to do it? Don’t get me wrong baby, you look fucking hot, but you could’ve just told me how desperate you are. How much you need to be fucked so hard that you forget your name. Because that’s what you’re missing, isn’t it baby? Talking about the fucking dictionary when your cunt is talking more sense than you.”
You hate him. You hate how he knows your body and mind so well.
“Move ____!!”
You don’t. Your hands come to rest on his stomach, your resolve dwindling, but you don’t move.
“Fucking stubborn.” He sighs, looking around the room before finding your eyes. “You’ve made your point. Move.”
“No.”
“If you don’t start fucking yourself on me right now, I’ll……I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Do something?”
Ha! Well played, the cocky shit doesn’t have a way out of that.
Maybe not.
He flicks your clit with his finger. Minimal effort, maximum effect because your pussy clenches down on him so hard that it causes him to throw his head back in pleasure.
He scoffs but glares again when he realises it hasn’t made you start moving.
A good two minutes must pass by of you just glaring at each other. You’d find it quite funny if you weren’t so hell bent on teaching him a lesson and making him show you that he wants you.
“This is very childish ____.”
“I don’t care. Your lazy ass has been making me do everything for months. I’m surprised you’ve not just had me use my dildo in front of you then you don’t actually have to touch me.”
This shocks him and for the first time you let out the true emotion behind all of this. Him making you do everything, whilst he just lays there was making you feel like he was just doing it out of duty. That it was what married couples had to do but he wasn’t really into it.
His stubbornness disappears quickly after that. He always wants to touch you, he always wants you near him. He didn’t think this was that deep, he thought you were just being petty and trying to get a rise out of him. He didn’t know it was about anything as serious as this.
“_____,” his voice is soft now, not wanting to upset you anymore than you seem to be.
“I get that we’ve been together a long time Jeonghan, but when you won’t even go down on me without me having to be on top of you, it makes me feel like I’m forcing you to do it. You don’t even seem to want to cuddle afterwards, just fall asleep occasionally holding my hand. You say I’m desperate? Well yeah, I am! I’d rather be desperate for my husband than completely disinterested.”
His heart cracks. He’s never disinterested in you. Why have you been feeling like this on your own instead of talking to him?
You can feel his hardness softening inside you and see no point in carrying on this charade. You climb off him, just wanting to shower and go to sleep. And your heart breaks when he doesn’t stop you. Just lets you walk off and stays on the bed.
Half an hour later you walk back into the bedroom, get into bed and turn off your beside light. If he wants dinner, he can, but you just want to sleep, and you don’t see why you should use one of the spare rooms because he’s decided he’s not interested in you.
And to be honest, you’re embarrassed that even your antics tonight couldn’t get him to do something. To show you how much he wants you.
He stares at you, your back more specifically because you’ve turned away from him facing the far wall.
How does he fix this? How has it come to this?
“Honey?”
His voice is soft as he tentatively rubs your shoulder.
“____, baby. Come on, at least look at me.”
And you do. Because you love him and you hate hearing distress in his voice. You turn over and face him. He’s just in his underwear under the covers and he looks almost ethereal with just one lamp on in the room.
“How long have you felt like this?”
You face each other, close but not touching.
“A month or so I think, maybe a little longer.”
He can tell you’re trying to remain strong, the fact you feel like you need to, makes him feel even worse.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I shouldn’t have to Jeonghan! Do I really not warrant at least a little effort?”
“Of course you do! I didn’t realise I was doing it. Work has been so busy with the comeback.”
“You didn’t do shit today, Seungcheol messaged me saying you’d said I’d kept you up all night.”
He stares at you, now realising he’s been caught out.
“Yes, today I said that to Cheol but it’s because I was genuinely so tired from the day before. I can’t get these steps down and it’s stressing me out and so I just wanted a break from everything. So, I sat out most of today and watched the guys, I thought it might help me get them down.”
“You need a break from me too?”
“No never _____. Marrying you was the best thing I ever did. And I know you work hard and I don’t deserve the amount of effort you put into this marriage but please believe me, I want you. Always.”
His hand cups your cheek and he’s relieved when you let him.
“I hate that I called you desperate, I didn’t mean it in that way, it was just in the moment. I thought it was a bit in what you were doing.”
“It was…. I think. I don’t know, it just hit a nerve when I realised you genuinely weren’t going to move. Like you’ve always been lazy but not even doing anything when we’re having sex just makes me feel like shit. Even when I cuddle up to you on the sofa it feels like you’re just putting up with it.”
“I LOVE CUDDLING ON THE SOFA,” he lowers his voice when he realises its so loud, “you know that!”
“Then tell me you do Jeonghan! Initiate something instead of just expecting it! If I behaved like you, we’d both just sit there at opposite sides of the living room!”
“Oh baby.” He scoops you into his arms, your leg hooking over his hip like it always did. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I love you so much.”
“I love you too. But it’s getting tiring loving you on my own.”
“I get that, I’ll do better. Be better.”
“And don’t use me as an excuse to get yourself out of trouble with Cheol. Man up! The man is more scared of you, than you are of him!”
He snickers against your hair, noting your breathing slowing now you’re against him, as you drift off to sleep.
“I will honey. I promise.”
You’re not unaccustomed to wet dreams. Your husband is away for weeks at a time on tour and things can get desperate at times. But this one feels almost real, you can feel yourself nearing orgasm just from imagining your husband’s fingers. But then a particularly harsh suck on your nipple jolts you. That’s too real to be a dream.
Your eyes open slowly, it’s morning but barely, the sun only just seems to be rising through your thin linen curtains.
“Jeonghan?”
His head lifts from your breast, his beautiful features holding a soft smile, just for you.
“Morning honey,”
His fingers move slowly over your soaking pussy, two of them landing on your clit to rub soothing circles over it. God, you’re dripping, how long has he been doing this?!
“What are you doing?” you ask him softly, a small sigh leaving you because his fingers feel so good on your clit.
“What I should’ve been doing all along, making sure you know how much I love you, how much I want you.”
“That feels good,” you sigh again when he kisses your neck as his fingers apply a little more pressure on your clit.
“Good. I want you to feel good. Always.”
His fingers move down to your entrance, two fingers slipping back in where you’d imagined them in your dream. He moves slowly, almost thoughtfully, pumping his long fingers in and out of you. You feel his wedding ring on your skin, he’s that deep inside you, curling his fingers slightly, knowing exactly where he needs to hit to get you to cum all over his fingers. His palm applies just the right amount of pressure on your clit as his fingers keep a smooth steady pace pumping in and out of your dripping hole. He’s really taking his time, no overly punishing pace, he just wants you to enjoy this, to know he’s got all the time in the world to make you feel good. And it isn’t that he’s being lazy, for once, he just wants you both to be with each other, to enjoy this and to show you how much he loves you.
“Does it feel good honey?”
“Hm-mm,” you nod, bottom lip between your teeth as you bring one of your hands to run through your husband’s hair
“Good. You deserve this. You deserve the world. I’m so lucky to have you.”
His fingers keep moving, curling into you so that you’re teetering on the edge of your orgasm, his palm moving up and down on your clit slowly.
“I’m close..”
“Yeah?” he smiles down at you, kissing your lips quickly before kissing your neck again. “Cum for me baby. Let go, you deserve this.”
A couple more pumps of his magical fingers and you come undone on his hand, your orgasm being drawn out for longer than normal from the way he’s carefully applying just the right amount of pressure and still pumping his fingers in and out of you to ride you through it. Warmth spreads through you and you hold onto your husband to steady you as your body shakes, airy moans escaping as pleasure over takes you, but he’s there for you. Holding you close, kissing and caressing your body as his fingers finally come to a halt once you twitch in overstimulation.
You open your eyes to find him licking his fingers clean, a satisfied hum sounding at the taste of you.
His soft lips trail up your body, kissing everywhere they come into contact with, goose bumps erupting in their wake. Delicate kisses are placed all over your breasts and pert nipples until he reaches your face. Then, he pauses.
“I’m really sorry baby, I never want you to feel sad about anything, let alone something I’ve done.”
“I know that, I think I just need reminding every now and then.”
He hums as your fingers run through is hair, leaning up to kiss his lips.
“How did you get me out of my pyjamas?”
He giggles against your lips before kissing you once again and pulling back slightly.
“Oh you were fast asleep, I did worry when you stopped snoring for a second that I’d woken you, but then you mumbled something I couldn’t make out and started snoring again.”
He knows he’s about to get an ear full and pre-empts it by kissing you before you can start complaining that you don’t snore, you just have bad sinuses.
Your hand moves down to his hard dick, noting happily that he’s completely naked with you, as you begin to move your hand slowly up and down his throbbing length.
“Don’t do that baby,”
He’s groaning into your ear, pulling away slightly so you can’t touch him. You’re confused, does he not want to have sex right now?
“Don’t worry, I want you,” he truly knows you so well, “it’s just it took you so long to wake up, I’m certain you came once in your sleep already. I was getting more and more desperate the wetter and wetter you got. I want to be in you before I cum, make you feel good first before I can cum.”
Fuck, he’s always said you were a deep sleeper but actually cumming in your sleep is both worrying and impressive.
Lost in thought you don’t notice him lining himself up with your still needy entrance, your breath hitches when he thrusts into you slightly. You may have been together years but there’s still a little thrill that shoots through you that you’re about to have sex with Jeonghan, he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen and the fact you’re lucky enough to be the one person in the world that sees him like this still makes you as giggly as a school girl.
“How do you always feel so good? Always so perfect for me.”
Your heart flutters almost as much as your pussy as he bottoms out, waiting for a few seconds before he starts moving. It isn’t a ferocious pace, it’s slow and caring, and you can feel every ridge and vein that lines his perfect dick. He’s breathing deeply in your ear, holding your hands in his just about your head , gazing down at you with nothing but love.
“I’m such an idiot,” a kiss to your ear and a little nibble to the lobe, “I have the most beautiful woman in the world, always so full of love for me, and I act like a selfish prick.”
He’s still moving in and out of you slowly, hips grinding down into you like he’s willing your body to know how much he wants you, just through the way he’s fucking you. Though this has gone way past fucking, this is love making. The way two people who know each other so deeply that they don’t need to do anything other than feel each other and be near each other, to show how much they love each other. And that’s what he’s doing, he has all the time in the world to make sure you know that you’re his and he is yours and he loves you more than anything.
His dick rubs repeatedly on that spot deep inside you that makes you scream when you fuck fast, but this isn’t fast and so your body shakes every time he hits that spot with his slow, smooth rut of his hips, making you clench just right around him.
“Everything about you is perfect honey, every part of this beautiful body is perfect, I could spend hours tasting you, showing you, watching how your beautiful tits move every time my dick moves in and out of your perfect pussy.”
You clench down on him, a deep groan ringing in your ears from your husband.
“Are you close honey?”
You just nod, squeezing his hands that have yours secured in his own.
“Then cum for me _____, cum around my dick. It’s yours just like I am.”
And you do, your body shakes and warmth spreads through your body as your pussy flutters around Jeonghan’s swollen length, him keeping a steady pace to make sure you get to enjoy it for as long as possible. You don’t even find it in you to moan, it’s just so peaceful and calm and right that the only thing you can do is throw your head back onto your pillow, bottom lip between your teeth as Jeonghan’s constant presence brings you back down to earth.
Jeonghan pulls out of you, staring down at your messy pussy, it only takes him a couple of tugs and he cums all over your stomach, white hot cum covering your skin and your pussy clenches a little as the final spurts of him land on you. You love when he does this, he’s always said it makes sure you know that you’re his, marking his territory almost.
“That’s better,” he throws himself onto the bed next to you, one hand on your waist and the other holding his head up as he leans on his side, “now you can see who you belong to. Just how it should always be.”
You gaze at him, a silly smile on your face, not a care in the world for the fact your lower half is covered in his cum.
“What are you doing?” You can’t help but giggle when he draws a heart in the cum that’s on your stomach.
“Love is everywhere _____,”
You can tell he’s very pleased with his cheesy line from the proud grin on his face, but it turns dark once he lifts his cum covered finger into the air and moves it towards your mouth.
“Open.”
You roll your eyes but open your mouth regardless, licking the little amount of your husband off it, the familiar taste over taking your senses.
“I am sorry. And I will do better.”
“I know you will.”
He cups your cheek, his lips meeting yours once again.
“But,” he mumbles against your lips, “you are going to have to wear that lingerie for me again. I wasted the opportunity to fucking rip it off you last night, such an idiot when you’d chosen such a slutty set.”
Fuck you’ve already had two, maybe three orgasms but his switch up makes you want to jump on him. You won’t though because for now you just want to enjoy being with him, holding each other and being present for each other. Like it always should’ve been.
❝ After finally managing to escape the lifelong rivalry you once had with Yoon Jeonghan, you’re unexpectedly thrown back into the undesirable feud after receiving a scholarship to the most prestigious private school in the city. Despite your attempts to leave the past in the past, you discover too late that you’re the only one interested in letting the vendetta go. Years later, there’s a switch in dynamic when you’re the one unwilling to let it go. ❞
PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x female reader
WORD COUNT: 20.8k
GENRE: enemies to lovers au, rich kid au, college au, model au, fake dating au, angst, (tiniest bit of) fluff, smut
WARNINGS: they’re in high school at the beginning of this, rich boy!jeonghan, frat boy!jeonghan, former rich girl!reader, model!reader, classism, asshole parents, drinking, scheming, mild violence (1 slap), reader and jeonghan are pretty terrible to each other, repressed feelings, revenge is a recurring theme in this, lots of arguing, star-crossed lovers vibes, heavy on the regret, jealousy, fake relationship (but real feelings oops), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pussy drunk!hannie, cockdrunk!reader, multiple creampies, squirting, overstimulation
a/n: still can’t believe i sat down and wrote this much. hope you guys like it! based on this request (sorry it took so long rip). minors dni!!
You can still remember the exact way you felt when your family lost everything and was left in poverty. Back then, your reality had become a twilight zone that left you feeling misplaced. Fate was cruel to make that exact feeling resurface now as you’re standing at the gates of your new school.
An emotion that could’ve been written off as typical anxiety from being the new kid is actual nerves caused by the unhealthy obsession your parents have with reclaiming the status your family once had. Inexplicably, they both believed the main way to do this is to be better than the Yoon family.
Embarrassing as it is, this fixation of theirs dates back to before you were born. In particular, it’s your mom’s unrelenting need to be better than the Yoons that got you into this unfavorable situation in the first place. She can’t be fully blamed, though. Everything dates back the feud her first husband (your father) has been part of since he was a kid.
As a child, you didn’t fully understand how deep the hatred ran. You also didn’t realize that being the heir to your family’s fortune meant that their vendetta had become your burden to bear (and somehow still was). Naively, you believed everything was over the moment your family was left with nothing. It wasn’t until you were leaving your house that your mom made it clear she still expected you go head-to-head with the heir of the Yoon family.
Believing that Yoon Jeonghan would still be willing to partake in a petty rivalry with you isn’t realistic, but your mom is beyond seeing reason at this point. Restoring the prestige of your family name came before anything now (even reality). In your mom’s eyes, beating the only son of the Yoon family seems to be the only way to do it.
This new-but-not-new obligation is the reason you can’t stifle the sick feeling that overcomes you as you walk through the front gates of the most prestigious private school in the city.
The campus is larger and more extravagant in person. Every single thing—from the wide pathways to the elegant topography—screams money. Students are scattered in front of the building, clad in the expensive uniform that’s currently draped over your own frame. The sight of designer bags, stylish shoes, and glamorous jewelry is a reminder of what once was and will never be again.
As if that daunting fact isn’t enough to make the dread in your gut paralyze you with anxiety, the cold looks you get are. Maybe you’re paranoid, or maybe people are actually sneering at you because they recognize you. Either way, this feeling of wanting to disappear doesn’t go away.
You stop walking to dig in the pocket of your jacket to pull out your phone. It’s a pathetic attempt to look like you’re not a total outsider who would rather be anywhere else. Unfortunately, your actions don’t provide you with the comfort you’re looking for. You wonder if hiding somewhere inside would stifle the nerves you feel. As fate (and your rotten luck) would have it, you don’t get a chance to make that decision.
In a sudden instant, you feel a body collide with your own. You recoil with a surprised gasp when a hot liquid spills all over your chest and torso. The distinct smell makes you panic. Coffee stains are the worst kind, and you just know your mom is going kill you if the uniform she worked so hard to pay for is ruined. Panic seeps into your chest as you start to wipe at your wet clothes without looking up. It’s futile, but just thinking about the consequences that you’re going to face if the overpriced uniform got ruined makes you want to throw up.
“What the fuck!?” The loud yell draws the attention of all the people within the spacious vicinity. “Watch where you’re going, you fucking idiot!”
You furrow your eyebrows angrily, and before you can lift your head to see who’s yelling, you feel an empty cup hit your feet. The remnants of the coffee splatter on your shoes and the lower part of your shins. Somehow, you feel cold despite the coffee being scorching hot.
The surprised guffaws and gasps seem muffled because of how loud your heartbeat is. A yell of your own is building in your throat, but when you look up, you’re suddenly at a complete loss for words. It all feels like some horrible nightmare because you find yourself looking at a face that you never wanted to see again.
Like a scene out of a cheesy movie, your (former) sworn enemy is standing right in front of you.
For some inexplicable reason, you can’t find your voice. You can only stare at Jeonghan with a dumb expression on your face. The embarrassment and anger you feel clash together and whirl inside you like a tornado, but even the intensity of your emotions isn’t enough to get you to express them in the way you want.
Jeonghan feels very pleased with himself until the unknown girl lifts her head. He blinks once, twice, and a third time. This doesn’t have the effect he desires because the image of you isn’t going away. Many years have passed since he last saw you, but he could never forget your face. Jeonghan might’ve thought he was dropped in the middle of some bizarre dream if it wasn’t for the harsh hammering of his heart. It really is you standing in front of him, looking like you’re two seconds away from murdering him.
“What the hell is your problem?” You seeth, no longer able to push down all the anger you’re feeling. “You’re the one who ran into me, asshole!”
Never in your life had you seen someone turn so red in the span of two seconds. You briefly wonder why Jeonghan feels so embarrassed when it’s you who’s dripping in coffee with what feels like the entire world laughing at your expense.
“Y/N?” His voice is incredulous. “What are you doing here?”
It’s a stupid question to ask considering the fact that you’re literally wearing the school issued uniform and have a school bag slung over your shoulders, but you know what Jeonghan actually means: How is it possible that someone like you is attending this school?
You aren’t about to dignify him with an answer since it seems like the watching crowd is itching for a show. Giving him a reaction is only going to make you look crazy, and you won’t give him or anyone else that satisfaction. It seems like you’re the only one that feels this way, though.
“You can’t hand wash the uniform. It has to be dry cleaned.”
Once again, the snickers and mocking whispers sound deafening. Instead of punching him in the mouth like you want, you somehow convince yourself to keep a level head. “Whatever. Move.” You snap before shoving past the stunned boy.
Once you get away from that embarrassing scene and find a bathroom, you shrug off your jacket to assess the damage. A scowl brings down the edges of your lips when you see the dark stains the coffee left behind. With an aggravated sigh, you glance down at your uniform. The front part is somewhat damp and a bit dirty, but luckily for you (and your mom’s bank account) the stains aren’t too prominent.
You take a deep breath before lifting your head and squaring your shoulders. It doesn’t matter that this already feels like the worst day ever, you can’t lose sight of the goal your mom has in mind. And you definitely can’t let Jeonghan of all people derail those plans. Playing into his petty games isn’t something you can afford to do anymore. Not that you want to, anyway.
When you finally calm down and decide to face the day, you find Jeonghan standing outside the bathroom, waiting for you. His shocked gaze from before is long gone and replaced with a hostile one you're more familiar with.
“I guess the standards of the scholarship program have hit an all time low.” He says as he falls into step beside you. “Do you really think coming here is going to change anything? Someone like you doesn’t belong here.”
You try your hardest to ignore him, but he keeps following you. Briefly, you wonder why it seems like he’s eager to pick up where you two left off. Were his parents thinking the same thing as yours, or was this something he was doing on his own?
“I’m talking to you.”
Finally, you stop and turn to him with a mean glare on your face. “I can see the years have done nothing for that pea-sized brain of yours. No matter how much you want me gone, I’m not going anywhere.”
“If you think you’ll somehow claw your way back up the social ladder, you can get rid of that pathetic idea right now.” Jeonghan all but growls, feeling a type of anxiousness he hasn’t in years. “You don’t belong in this world anymore, and you never will.”
Maybe he was right, but that doesn’t matter. You’re not thinking of running away, especially from him. “Scared I’m gonna take your spot at the table?”
“Yeah, right.” He laughs, but it doesn’t sound as confident as he wants. “Someone like you will never take anything from me.”
You look at him and let out a contemptuous laugh. It had been years, but Jeonghan had remained painfully unchanging. The crazed look in his eyes and tone of voice makes you smirk. “You are scared.”
Jeonghan practically has steam coming out of his ears. He can’t say anything, and he’s not entirely sure why. You’re not at the same level as him anymore, but that doesn’t seem to shake any of that annoying self-confidence you’ve always had. Ironically, it feels like he’s the one on unsteady ground. An anxious feeling seeps into his stature because it’s like he can already hear his dad’s disappointed voice for letting you of all people shake him up.
“Well, you should be.” You say, wanting to get under his skin. “Because I don’t need money to get the things I want.”
Maybe those words triggered a reaction out of Jeonghan that was deeper than you realized, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as you got accepted into the private school, your fate was sealed.
The day doesn’t get much better for you as it goes on. Studying amongst the blue bloods wouldn’t be so bad if you happened to be a regular poor person, but since you and your entire family fell from grace all those years ago, you don’t have the luxury of going unnoticed. Their sly comments and sneers don’t hurt, but they are unbearably annoying.
Expectedly, you’ve made no new friends. Nearly every person looks at you like you’re an unwanted parasite, and you have a strong inkling that it has everything to do with what happened with Jeonghan in the morning. It’s not surprising, but it makes you feel more alone than you expect.
When the school day is finally over and you think you can finally get away from all the turmoil you’re feeling, you walk out the building to see the one person who can make this day even worse. Your dad isn’t alone. He’s accompanied by his wife and her son, Seokmin. You barely have time to digest seeing him after so long before he’s turning his head in your direction and makes eye contact.
In a split second, his smile falters until it’s completely wiped off his face. The oh shit look he has on his face makes an unmistakable revulsion force its way up your throat. Many would feel comforted by the sight of their father approaching them, but all you can feel is the dislike and lack of affection you have for him. Briefly, you wonder why he thinks it’s a good idea to come up to you when it’s clear he didn’t know that it was also your first day of school.
“Y/N.” The way he speaks your name is awkward and unsure. “What are you doing here?”
If one more person asked you that, you swear you were going to rip your hair out. Instead of snarking at him to use his fucking eyes and take a look at what you’re wearing, you respond as calmly as you can. “I applied for a scholarship last year.” You tell him, feeling like you might cry. “Mom said she left you a message.”
The grimace on his face makes you feel stupid and embarrassed, but you can’t walk away like you want. It feels like your feet are rooted to the ground, and there’s also the (not so) tiny fact that your mom would never forgive you if you walked away.
“I... I was going to call, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear from me.”
You’re tempted to tell him that you know he hasn’t given you a single thought in the last four years. It’s blatantly obvious that his stepson is vastly more important to him than you are. You know that, and it no longer hurts as much as it used to.
“Mom said she called you last week.” You repeat, trying not to let your voice give away all the emotions brewing inside you. “She wants us to have dinner together tonight.”
His remorseful expression changes, and you know that he’s about to make things difficult for you all over again. “Y/N, today isn’t—”
“Never mind.” You cut him off, not in the mood to hear his excuses. “Your family is waiting for you, and mom’s waiting for me at home.”
Your dad’s wounded expression doesn’t make you feel anything. Especially not when you notice Jeonghan and his idiot friends gawking at you from afar. You don’t give your dad a chance to respond before you turn on your heel and walk away, hoping the angry tears poking the back of your eyes don’t fall before you get out of their line of sight.
The trip home is longer than usual now that you have to take two buses instead of one. It gives you time to think, although, you wish you didn’t have so much time to ponder your rampant thoughts. All you want to do is get home and sleep off the exhausting day you had.
Unfortunately for you, the universe had other plans that went directly against your wishes.
Directly in front of your apartment building, you can see your mom waiting for you. She has a pensive look on her face that can easily been mistaken with vexation, but you can’t be sure when it comes to the same woman who never reacts the way you expect her to. It’s rare to see a bright expression on your mother’s face these days, but she beams as soon as she sees you approaching.
“Y/N!” She hurries over to you with expectant eyes. “Did you see your father?”
You wish she didn’t look so excited as you nod silently, but her eyes seem to shine as she continues with her questioning. “How did it go? Did he agree to come tonight?”
Of course she only cares about that. Not how your day at a new school was or if you were adjusting well. She didn’t care if you liked the school nor was she interested to know if you made any friends. It’s not disappointing anymore, just irritating.
“He didn’t know that I got a scholarship.” Like she told you a month ago. “He didn’t even show up to see me.”
The excited smile slips off your mom’s face instantly. Her gaze turnes dark as a deep frown settles on her features. “What? How could you be so stupid?” Her voice rises into a hysteric yell. “I ask you to do one thing, and you can’t even do that right!”
You clench your jaw as if that will somehow relieve the anger that’s washing over you. Her degrading words are nothing new, but today it’s getting to you more than usual. “It’s not my fault he wants nothing to do with us. I told you—”
“Shut up.” She growls. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I knew I couldn’t count on you.”
A humorless laugh rips from your throat before you can stop it. “Then you should’ve talked to him yourself instead of making me do it since you’re the one who wants to beg him for money.”
Knowing exactly how to get a reaction out of your mom is always satisfactory, until it isn’t. “I’m only doing this for you! Do you think I want to beg him for money after he abandoned me? All I’ve done since he left is try to give you a better life, and I’m sick of you punishing me for it!”
You could’ve laughed at the absurdity of her words. How could she think that when all these years it felt like you were the one being punished? Instead of telling her some overdue truths, you let out a quiet scoff. “Whatever. He wasn’t going to agree to come no matter what I said to him, and you know it.”
Her silence feels like a victory, but it’s a temporary one. “What I know is that you’re only capable of disappointing me.”
You don’t get a chance to respond before your mom brushes past you with an infuriated scowl. You look back angrily, watching her storm into the building. There’s a familiar anger burning fiercely in your chest as the argument lingers in your mind. She’s not worth your anger, but you can’t stop the overflow of every ugly emotion you’ve been bottling up since the morning.
Things don’t get better after that first day.
Unfortunately for you, going to the city’s most expensive private school doesn’t get any easier with time. The year passes by slowly, and you can’t truly enjoy it because you’re either studying or working. It’s hard to do both, but you aren’t left with much of a choice since your new school brought about unexpected expenses that your mom can’t afford to pay for alone.
As the months pass by, you wonder if all your hard work is really worth it. This dangerous thought lingers in your mind when you get to school on a rainy day after missing your first bus. You’re wet, cold, and tired. After pulling an all-nighter because you had to study for your history test, you’re not in the best mood. And because you apparently had the worst luck ever, Lee Seokmin just has to approach you to remind you that your dad’s birthday is just around the corner.
“Is there a reason you’re telling me this?” You wonder as you half-heartedly shove books into your locker.
“I just...” Seokmin’s voice is meek and nervous. “Are you going to come to his party this time?”
It’s funny that he assumed you were invited this time or any of the other times. “No. I have work that day.”
It’s not exactly a lie. Despite not knowing what day the celebration would be, you knew that you’d either be busy studying or working. Not that this seems to click with the trust fund brat that was abnormally attached to your father.
“You can’t ask for the day off? It would mean a lot to dad if you came.”
His sentence makes your chest and stomach tighten with incredulity and annoyance because it’s so out of touch with reality. You can’t even laugh or feel angry. It’s tempting to tell him that you know your dad couldn’t care less if you went to his birthday party since he hadn’t even bothered to tell you when or where it was happening. Somehow, you manage to stifle your growing ire to respond civilly.
“It’s not like he’s going to be devastated if I don’t go.” You say calmly despite wanting to express the emotions that keep gnawing at your chest.
Seokmin frowns at your impassive attitude. “Of course he’ll care. He’s still your dad—”
“Listen.” You cut him off, slamming your locker shut and finally turning your angry stare at him. “You don’t know shit. Just because he’s played the part of the perfect daddy with you for years, doesn’t mean that’s who he is. So just leave me alone before you piss me off.”
Seokmin shifts uncomfortably, wishing that he hadn’t said anything in the first place. He never meant to antagonize you despite what you’re clearly thinking. He just wants to find some common ground with you. Childishly, he believes it’ll get rid of the guilty feeling he gets every time he sees you.
“Sorry.” Seokmin whispers. “I’ll leave you alone.”
Taking out the resentment you have for your dad on Seokmin doesn’t make you feel better. Somehow you manage to feel even worse after he walks away from you. This dejecting feeling doesn’t go away even as the day goes on. It actually gets worse when you sit down at the library to study during your free period.
It feels like your mind is coming to a crashing halt after being on overdrive for months. You try to pull through even though you’re fucking exhausted. All the effort you’re putting into your studies is so you can win the Merit Scholarship that would pay for your college, and burning out at this point in time wasn’t an option. The prospect of finally piecing your life back together to the way it was before makes it a little easier to ignore the fatigue and stress that lingers in your bones.
But for some reason this day (and the universe) seemed to be working against you.
“You’re fucking lying.” The voice is familiar, but you can’t place it.
“I’m not.” Now there’s a voice you recognize. It belongs to Joshua Hong—a.k.a the evil church boy who identifies as Jeonghan’s bestie. “I was there when he did it.”
“There’s no way Yoon Jeonghan applied for the Merit Scholarship.”
Those words make you freeze. Everything around you becomes a blur as disbelief clouds your senses. Instead of your mind racing with an excess amount of thoughts, there’s only one that keeps bouncing around in your mind: Yoon Jeonghan did this on purpose.
“He turned in the application months ago.” You swear you can hear a smirk in that deviant’s voice.
“Did his family go broke or something?”
“Yeah, right.” A different voice scoffs. “His dad just donated more money to have the arts building expanded. He definitely doesn’t need that scholarship.”
There isn’t many things you can see eye-to-eye on with the snobs at your school, but that last statement is definitely one thing you can agree on. Yoon Jeonghan doesn’t need the scholarship. If you were anyone else, you would think him applying for the scholarship was some mystery with no reasonable explanation, but you know better. This was all because of your refusal to concede to him. Your actions had obviously struck a nerve with his pride, and now he was going to hit you where it hurt.
You can’t even be fully angry. Not when it’s such a well thought out scheme. Still, you feel sick and unable to keep siting still to study. So you quickly gather your stuff and leave the library without noticing the pair of eyes that are watching your every move.
Josh snorts and pulls out his phone, quickly typing a message before sending it out with a satisfied smirk on his face.
It’s done. You should’ve seen her face LMAO.
If you think you can leave school peacefully to try and feel better, you’re proven wrong when you run into Jeonghan as you’re going home.
“You’re leaving already?” He says in a sickly sweet voice as he starts walking beside you. “Maybe you should stick around and study. You won’t win the Merit Scholarship by slacking off.”
“I don’t need to try that hard to beat you.”
There’s a subtle change in Jeonghan’s eyes as he glares at you. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Don’t forget that no matter how smart you are, you’re still a nobody to the people that matter.”
Maybe you should’ve been less naive of the situation. Jeonghan was an asshole, but was also right. You just didn’t know it yet.
Jeonghan begins to bother you more often after he lets you know he wants the scholarship. The remainder of the year he constantly torments and mocks you with the help of his snobby friends. Ignoring them isn’t easy, but the thought that you won’t have to put up with them for much longer helps you power through.
Before you know it, the day the winner of the scholarship will be announced arrives.
The school has an entire ceremony dedicated to academic excellence, and you happen to be one of the students being honored. Friends and family were all encouraged to come since they were giving out multiple awards. Since Seokmin wasn’t getting an academic award, your dad didn’t bother to show up, but he did encourage you to beat Jeonghan via text. You didn’t care so much because you had your mother there, and for the first time in a long time, she seemed genuinely happy. You could see her beaming at you proudly from where she sat.
In spite of all the arguments and resentment, you were thrilled that all your hard work had paid off. Finally, you were going to get your life back. All you had to do was win the scholarship and everything else would naturally fall into place. You’re seated in the second row as the head of the foundation that provided the scholarship steps up to the podium to announce the winner.
Unfortunately, the name of the recipient for the Merit Scholarship is not yours. Maybe the blow wouldn’t have been so devastating if the name that was announced didn’t belong to Jeonghan.
That asshole is sitting in the row in front of you, and like the final killing blow he always delivers when messing with you, he turns around to give you a triumphant smirk. Anger and disappointment clash inside you as if fighting for dominance to see which one is the more prominent feeling. You can feel your hands trembling and your throat tightening. The situation is unjust and cruel, but that doesn’t seem to matter to anyone except you.
This intense feeling worsens the more the situation sinks in. You don’t even want to look at your mom because you know she’s the only person who’s more angry and humiliated than you are. Everyone is cheering and clapping, but you physically can’t join in. Pretending to be happy for someone who had quite literally just ruined your life was something even you couldn’t do.
When the ceremony is over, your mom doesn’t say anything. Her expression is grim and veiled with muted anger. It makes the nerves in your stomach coil into an uncomfortable knot as you follow her out of the auditorium. You can’t say anything as a thick silence engulfs you because you know anything you say won’t be enough to appease her anger.
“This is just fantastic.” Her words come out in the form of an insincere laugh. “I worked my ass off to send you to this damn school, and this is how you repay me?”
It’s tempting to tell her that you’re the one who worked hard to get into the school despite never wanting to step back into this world, but instead you bite your tongue. After all, there’s no point in arguing with her. No amount of rage or disappointment will change the fact that you won’t be able to afford your dream college. With your current financial situation, pursuing higher education was out of the question, and because of your loss, so was the relationship with your mother.
“After all I’ve sacrificed!?” Her angry voice seems to echo throughout the large hallway, and you can feel the lingering people start to stare. “I’ve given up my entire life for you, and you couldn’t win that damn scholarship! You lost it to Yoon Jeonghan of all people!”
“Mom.” Your voice is flat and tired. “That’s enough. People are staring.”
Pointing that out would usually be enough to get her in check, but the deranged look in her eyes tells you that her anger goes beyond any embarrassment that her behavior might cause. “You’re not even sorry, are you?” She scoffs in angry disbelief.
“Neither are you.” The words come out before you can stop them. “You never had a problem with using me as your meal ticket until I didn’t win, right?”
You hear a chorus of shocked gasps when a cold hand collides with your cheek. A stinging sensation is left behind that has a different type of anger coursing through your veins. Your hand trembles as you bring it up to hold your throbbing cheek. Angry tears pool in your eyes as you look into your mother’s remorseless eyes.
“How dare you speak to me that way?” Her voice borders on a yell. “Every single thing I’ve done has been for you and your future. If I knew you were this useless, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
Your mom brushes past you as if you’re a perfect stranger to her. As if you mean nothing to her anymore. Holding the stinging tears in your eyes is painful, but that doesn’t compare to the hurt your mom’s words left behind.
Anger and misery collide together to form a weighing pressure on your chest that makes it difficult to breathe. It feels like your throat is closing in on itself, and you wonder if it’s because of the sob you’re holding in. The heavy tears fall from the top of your lids before you can try to blink them away. It’s humiliating, but you can no longer suppress your emotions like you’d been doing the whole time.
The burning sensation in your cheek has turned into a dull ache at this point, but all you can focus on is the feelings that are eating you from the inside. You see your peers and their families gawking at you. The whispers, snickers, and pitiful glances feel like daggers cutting into you, yet all you can do is stand stolidly and cry silently.
Just when you think you can’t feel any worse, you catch sight of Jeonghan and his family walking out of the auditorium with the head of the foundation. His father is shaking hands with the man, patting him on the back like someone would do to a longtime friend. Which is exactly what the head of the foundation is to him.
Now Jeonghan’s words from before made perfect sense. You’re a fool to realize it this late. Not that it matters anymore. Everything is over now, and all you can do is walk away.
“Your dad really outdid himself.”
Jeonghan offers the girl on his arm a disinterested hum. Honestly, he’d rather to be anywhere else but the gala his dad throws every year. Magnificent as it always is, it’s so boring and draining that it feels more like work than anything. His eyes keep scanning the room for any sign of his friends—or anyone that will save him from his boredom.
“Oh my god!” Mina releases his arm from the death grip she has on it to push past him. “Is that Y/F/N!?”
Jeonghan has to pause for several reasons:
1) Hearing that name after so long makes his chest and stomach flip in the most unpleasant way. 2) It’s unlikely that this airhead heiress is talking about you, but if she is, how is it possible that she knows who you are? 3) There’s no way you would be at his dad’s gala. 4) After disappearing for three years, it doesn’t make sense that you would suddenly appear here of all places.
But when he follows Mina’s line of sight, he sees that it is you, looking more elegant and gorgeous than ever. You’re wearing a designer gown that looks like it was custom made, and you have a tall, six foot nothing piece of arm candy by your side. Even Jeonghan can’t deny that you look like a picture of perfection, and he can’t even begin to figure out why or how you’re at his dad’s gala looking like that.
“And she's with Kim Mingyu!? Oh my god, I have to get a picture—!”
Jeonghan thinks Mina is joking until he sees that she’s already halfway across the room, which is the fastest he’s seen her move all night. Maybe the champagne has gotten to his head because there’s no fucking way any of this is real right now. To his horror, his date actually makes one of his father’s business associates take the picture.
“Close your mouth.” A familiar voice orders. “It’s unbecoming.”
His mom is coldly stringent with the delivery of her words. She doesn’t look surprised, and it makes him feel sick. What the hell is going on?
“Your father invited her.” Her tone leaves no room for questions. “So act like the gentleman I raised you to be, and go say hello.”
He can’t argue because not only is he completely speechless, but also due to the fact that his mom is quick to leave him standing alone. Jeonghan knows his eyes are open wide in that angry way that makes him look like he’s crazy, but he doesn’t care. Why was everyone suddenly acting like they were in some alternate universe?
“Son.”
Jeonghan’s body goes stiff. Immediately, he straightens his expression out as he turns to face his father. He’s met with a familiarly cold expression. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand. There’s a thick silence that envelopes them for a brief moment before his dad begins to speak. “Get that stupid look off your face and join me to go greet our guests.”
Again, he’s left with no room to argue because his dad walks away from him. Jeonghan is quick to follow behind him, aware of the consequences that would befall him should he disobey. Much to his chagrin, he sees his date has wandered off after successfully getting a picture with you and your date. This bizarre situation paired with his father’s attitude makes Jeonghan feel like a clueless little boy all over again.
The feeling gets worse when he comes face to face with you for the first time in years.
Your pretty eyes settle on him for a brief moment that can’t even be considered a full second before they look at his father. The man on your arm—Kim Mingyu—doesn’t acknowledge him at all. Jeonghan’s jaw ticks irritably, but he keeps his composure. Something else is clearly going on, and he would never hear the end of it if he ruined his dad’s covert plans.
“Y/N! Mingyu! I’m so glad you two made time to come!” Jeonghan’s father seems like a different person as he goes to shake hands with faux elation in his voice.
“We can’t stay long.” You say with an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But you’ll have to invite us next year because the event is fabulous.”
It irritates Jeonghan that his dad seems genuinely happy at receiving your stamp of approval. He wants to shake him and ask him if he’s lost his damn mind, but he can only plaster on a fake smile of his own.
“Of course.” There’s that fake politeness again. “Surely you two have time for a drink, though?”
Hearing his dad speak the way his employees do to him is sickening, and Jeonghan has to stop himself from gagging.
“Just one.” Mingyu says with a grin so charming that Jeonghan swears he hears some of the surrounding people swoon. “S.Coups is expecting us at his album release party. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course.” He says in an understanding tone that he would’ve never used on Jeonghan. He doesn’t get time to contemplate his dad’s out of character behavior because the older man turns to you with a smile.
“Y/N, I’m sure you remember my son, Jeonghan.” His father puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes enough for it to hurt without making him visibly uncomfortable. “I think you two were still in high school the last time you saw each other.”
Finally, you two look each other in the face again. Your face is blank—a picture of impassive. Then, another beautiful smile graces your face. “That’s right. It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”
“I’ve been busy with school.” He hopes his smile doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “So have you, I presume?”
Jeonghan feels proud of his subtle dig until he feels his father stiffen beside him. Your smile doesn’t falter, but it does turn into an amused one as you share a look with Mingyu who doesn't bother to stifle the laugh that tumbles past his lips.
“Jeonghan.” The glare his father is giving him means he was definitely going to hear about his apparent slip up later. “You should go find Mina.”
Translation: Get lost before you embarrass me further.
“Oh. Sure.” Jeonghan tries not to feel like a scolded little boy who’s being shooed away. “It was nice to meet you, Mingyu. Nice seeing you again, Y/N.”
He’s not sure if you saying goodbye without a hint of amusement makes him feel better or worse.
The rest of the night proceeds smoothly, but Jeonghan has to leave early so he can avoid an awkward car ride back to the house with his parents. Not that it makes any difference because he can tell his dad is still very much angry at him when he gets home.
“I told you to go over the information my secretary gave you.”
His dad has a way of speaking that makes Jeonghan feel like he’s getting yelled at even though he isn’t. It makes him wish he hadn’t gotten drunk with Soonyoung instead of going over that damn binder full of names and faces. Obviously thinking he’d be able to skate by like all the other times was a severe miscalculation.
“You spend so much time on that damn phone that I thought you’d know Y/F/N and Kim Mingyu are at the top of the modeling industry right now. I’ve been trying to convince them to advertise our new cosmetic line for weeks!”
Jeonghan feels like his ears are ringing because there’s no way. He fights the urge to pull out his phone and search for confirmation. Maybe he should’ve done that when he got home instead of opening up the whiskey in his dad’s liquor cabinet.
“You said they didn’t seem offended that Jeonghan didn’t know who they were—” His mom is cut off by his dad’s angry yell.
“That doesn’t change the fact that your brilliant son still refuses to do what I ask of him!”
There’s a tense silence in the room as Jeonghan has to withstand the most scornful glare he’s gotten in his life. His father has a crazy look in his eye that makes Jeonghan feel two feet tall. “Any time they advertise a product, it sells out within days. If they refuse to endorse our products because of you—!”
“Honey,” his mother goes to her husband to placate him. “Jeonghan will apologize to them. Isn’t that right, son?”
She might not be yelling, but her voice is cold as ice, and Jeonghan is left with no room to disagree.
There’s not much that can intimidate Jeonghan, but even he has to admit that being in such foreign territory feels unnervingly daunting. After his dad’s secretary did some digging, he found out you were doing a photo shoot near his college. It’s a closed set, but luckily having the last name Yoon is like having an all access pass to pretty much any place he can think of.
This works until he tries to approach you as you’re getting your makeup touched up. Two burly men stop him from getting close, and a man who he would’ve assumed to be a model if it wasn’t for the way he was dressed stands behind them with a raised eyebrow.
“I made it clear to Lee Chan that there would be no interview.” His voice is rough and mean—something Jeonghan isn’t used to getting from anyone aside from his parents.
Jeonghan doesn’t know if he should be more offended that this guy assumed him to be of the working class or that he was being treated like someone that was beneath you. “No, that’s not—I’m a friend.”
The guy looks mildly surprised before he looks back at you. “You know this guy, Y/N?”
You look up from your phone with the same blank expression from the gala. Because you’ve acted cordial so far, Jeonghan doesn’t expect the next words to come out of your mouth. “No. I don’t.”
Jeonghan thinks about causing a scene, but then he knows that won’t help his predicament. So he lets himself be escorted off the sight, feeling more humiliated than ever. It’s unlike him to give up (not to mention that it’s not an option), which is why he waits by a car that undoubtedly belongs to you. To think that he would be reduced to go this far just to apologize to you is infuriating.
“There’s that creep from before.” Your manager frowns as you and your team are walking to the car.
You smirk, knowing what’s going to come next is going to be the highlight of your day. “It’s alright, Jihoon. He’s probably just a fan.”
Jeonghan is surprised when you gesture for him to come towards you while your team starts to get ready to leave. He clenches his jaw when he sees an arrogant smirk on your face. “Is there a reason you’re acting like a stalker and crashing my shoot?”
Insulting you is something Jeonghan wishes he had the option of doing, but he’s not willing to disappoint his father over some temporary satisfaction. After all, he only needs to give you an insincere apology and everything would be fine. So he takes a deep breath and hopes his words don’t come out sarcastic or mocking.
“I wanted to apologize for the other night.” Okay. That sounded somewhat sincere. “I didn’t know—”
“That your daddy’s been begging me to advertise his product?” You laugh. “I guess you just assumed that I married some rich guy to crawl my way up the social ladder, right?”
Shit. He has to do some damage control, and fast. “No—No. That’s not it at all...”
You wait for him to finish, but it really seems like he has nothing else to say. It’s not surprising, but it is amusing. Jeonghan still expected things to work in his favor just because of who he was, but he was in for a rude awakening. You step toward him with a vengeful smile on your face. “That apology is pathetic as you are.”
“What?” Jeonghan growls, unable to keep up this fake politeness he’s been showing you until now.
“You know, when your dad came to my agency to beg me to advertise those shitty products he came out with, I couldn’t help but think that you really are his son.” Your sneer is meaner than he remembers. “It was fun seeing him kiss my ass and offer me so much money, but you know what? I think trashing your daddy’s new product line is going to be so much more fun.”
You bump his shoulder as you walk past him, leaving him feeling like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over his head. There was a malicious calmness in your tone that didn’t sit well with him at all.
Jeonghan quickly tries to do some damage control because even if you didn’t agree to advertise the new cosmetic line, Kim Mingyu could surely be swayed. The only problem is that he underestimated how much influence you actually have. Not only does the male model reject the apology, but he also officially declines the offer his father’s company made him.
If that wasn’t enough to piss his father off, you also decline the offer and follow it with a slanderous live that wasn’t technically slanderous under the court of law. Many comments came in about you potentially modeling for the line when you flat out said you didn’t particularly care for their products since they weren’t animal friendly and were overpriced. That caused enough backlash for the campaign ads that were underway to be halted immediately.
Despite trying to tell his parents that you never had any intention of advertising their products, he still found himself kicked out of the grand mansion he grew up in and forced to go stay at the frat house with eight other guys.
“Hold on. You know the Y/F/N!?” His friend yells after Jeonghan is done explaining why he got cut off. “You fucking traitor! How could you hide this from me when you know how much I love her?”
Jeonghan glares at Soonyoung, wanting to throttle him for only focusing on that part of the story. Also, he isn’t to blame for failing to realize the queen of the modeling industry his friend was always referring to was you.
“I still can’t believe you didn't know how famous she is.” Seungkwan says with a scoff. “She’s literally in a bunch of ads and magazines. Plus, she always walks in important fashion shows.”
Wonwoo smirks when Jeonghan pouts like a petulant child. The curiosity is eating away at him, and he feels the need to ask about something that’s not fully making sense to him. “So, you’re saying that Y/F/N did this because you’ve hated each other since you were kids?”
“She’s still not over me winning the scholarship she wanted.” Jeonghan says with a scowl. “Because of her, I have to do well on this interview so I can have some money to hold me over until I get full access to my trust next month.”
“You’re seriously going to apply for an internship at Vogue?” Soonyoung wonders with a raised eyebrow. “Won’t you be paid slave wages?”
Wonwoo and Seungkwan snicker, ignoring the glare Jeonghan throws their way. So the pay wouldn’t be great, but it was Vogue. To have an internship like that on his resume would do wonders for his career. Maybe money wasn’t the main attraction to the internship, but what he would get out of it would be worth so much more.
At least, that’s what he thinks until he’s sent to go help with a fitting for Xu Minghao’s upcoming spring collection. There’s plenty of models around who are needing minor alterations to the clothes they’re wearing, and Jeonghan has the great misfortune of handling the alterations needed for your dress.
Aside from you laughing at the fact that he’s literally on his knees, adjusting the hemline of the dress you have on, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Until he accidentally pokes you with the needle, that is. The ow you let out isn’t overly loud, but it is enough to grab the attention of Xu Minghao and Jeonghan’s direct supervisor.
“Y/N, darling, what’s wrong?” Minghao asks you, grabbing your hands as he eyes you up and down.
“Nothing. I—I just thought you’d have interns who are capable of not poking the models when they do the alterations.” You say with a slight grimace, knowing exactly what pulls at the designer’s heart strings.
Jeonghan receives two withering glares, and before the day is over he no longer has a job.
Exacting your revenge was one of the greatest feelings you’d ever felt. The outcome of your actions was more than justified, but your manager didn’t seem to think so. Your behavior confused him because he never knew you to be so spiteful to someone who simply made a mistake.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on between you and that intern you got fired?”
You look up from the newly posted pictures from the Armani show that you closed last week. Jihoon’s eyes are still fixed on the road, but he’s always had this annoying skill for seeing right through you without even looking at you. There’s no use in lying to him—not that you were planning to. You just thought you’d have a little more time to enjoy your revenge before telling the only person who knew about your past with that trust fund brat.
“That intern is Yoon Jeonghan.”
Jihoon’s eyes widen when he hears the name of the person you despise the most in the world. He looks at the rear view mirror to see that you’re back to staring at your phone. He quickly focuses back on the road, grip tightening on the steering wheel.
“Oh.” He murmurs, unsure of what to say. “The same guy who—?”
He cuts himself off, but you know what he was about to say. The same guy who ruined your life? You don’t bother to finish the sentence for him.
“The very one.”
It’s silent for a moment before Jihoon speaks again. “Don’t you think you went a little too far?”
You don’t look up, but he notices the tightening of your jaw. The pause you take isn’t long, but it feels that way. “He has a trust fund to fall back on unlike me who had nothing when my mom kicked me out for not winning the scholarship he stole from me.”
Jihoon doesn’t say anything. You’re speaking about the worst moment of your life so casually that anyone would think it doesn’t bother you anymore, but he knows the truth.
“Did you hear back from the agency?” You ask, not wanting to keep talking about the past.
“Yeah. They don’t mind you going to classes for this semester as long as you still do the Marc Jacobs show in Milan and the Versace show in Paris.”
“I also promised Jun I’d do his New York show.” You mention with a victorious smile.
Jihoon hums in acknowledgment. He’s not against the idea of you taking your college classes in person for a semester, but he wonders if it will be okay.
As usual, your manager was right to worry.
Weeks of your college experience go by without any problems. During that time you didn’t notice that Jeonghan had been watching you. He didn’t follow you around or anything like that, but he had observed you long enough to notice that you were oddly attached to your laptop that looked like it was in need of a serious upgrade. And he knows. That’s the ticket to his revenge. So he patiently waits for his chance to grab that ticket.
It takes some convincing (a large sum of money) for Jeonghan to get his English professor to pair you with him for the upcoming project. All he needs to do is get that laptop from you to get the revenge he craves.
You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more angry. Never mind the fact that there was this perpetual animosity between you and your partner. Jeonghan was also one of the most idiotic people you had ever met. Carrying him on this project was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Don’t expect me to do all the work. I don’t care if have photo shoots or whatever. Make sure you know the material.”
You almost let out an incredulous scoff at his audacity, but instead you just give him an arrogant smile. “I think you forget that you’re the one who always lost to me when it came to academics.”
Jeonghan gives you smug smirk of his own. “And yet I’m the one who won the Merit Scholarship.”
For the first time since he’s seen you again, your arrogant expression falters. He’s not allowed to enjoy the dumb look on your face because you’re quick to smooth it out as if you weren’t slighted by his comment. It’s almost amazing how quickly you manage to cover up your expression.
“Please.” You scoff, trying not to yell at him in the middle of the library. “Your daddy bought that for you just like everything else you have. Too bad intelligence is something that even he can’t afford to get you.”
Jeonghan looks like he did all those years ago on your first day of senior year. His expression is so funny that you can’t help but laugh at him. Your mellifluous laughter catches the attention of some of the people sitting not too far from you who happened to be apparent fans of yours. The pair doesn’t hesitate to walk over to your table and ask for a picture.
You stand up and pose with each of them with that friendly smile you give to everyone except Jeonghan. While your back is turned, he sees your laptop slightly sticking out of your bag. It’s almost too easy to the grab the device and stick it in his own bag. He does it with a precision and smoothness that takes even him by surprise.
As soon as you’re done, you turn back to see Jeonghan gathering the books on the table, bag already slung over his shoulder like he’s ready to leave.
“What the hell? You’re leaving?” You say, annoyed that he was already not pulling his weight this early on.
“I have things to do.” Jeonghan says with a shrug. “I’ll text you later to let you know when I’m free to meet up.”
He leaves you frowning and unaware that he took the single most important item you own.
It’s not until you get back home that you realize your laptop is missing. You panic, practically tearing the house apart trying to find it. Every moment of the day flashes through your mind because you did have a tendency to forget things. It was the reason why Jihoon was responsible for handling most of your personal items when you did shoots.
Jihoon. You think as you search your room for the third time. He’s going to be so disappointed and angry.
The contents in the laptop isn’t what you’re worried about, but the laptop itself. Jihoon bought it for you after he convinced your agency that taking online classes would not affect your work. It meant so much to you because he was the only person who knew how much you had wanted to go to college despite not being able to after you graduated high school.
You’re nearly in tears after realizing that you really had lost it. Even if you went back to the campus early in the morning, it would take you forever to look for it in all the places you’d been to. Just as you’re about to call Jihoon to tell him what happened, you get a text from the last person you want to hear from.
Jeonghan sent a picture of himself holding your most prized possession with an infuriating message attached to it: You’ll get your laptop back if come to my party tonight and take a picture with my friend.
It’s a trap. You know it is. And yet, you still find yourself at the address you were given by the devil incarnate. The frat house is loud and full of people who don’t seem to care or notice who you are. Not that you mind. You only hope Jeonghan doesn’t make things difficult and gives you your laptop right away.
“Y/N!” The deviant yells your name when you finally find him.
Jeonghan is clearly drunk, holding your precious laptop close to him as he drinks some cheap beer. You keep a level head, knowing he just wants a reaction out of you. “Where’s your friend?”
Straight to the point, as always. Jeonghan smirks and whispers something to the boy next to him. His friend disappears into the crowd and returns with someone else minutes later. It’s a cute guy with shining eyes and an adorable smile.
“I love you.” He blurts once he sees you, a blush suffusing his entire face. “You’re so pretty and amazing—!”
He’s drunk, you can tell, but he also seems sincere. It makes you think maybe that rat Jeonghan has actually done this as some twisted way to make his friend’s wish come true. Even if that’s not the case, you could never be mean to someone who supports you—even if that person is friends with someone like Jeonghan.
“Let’s take a picture.” You say with a smile that’s surprisingly easy to conjure.
Naively, you think that Jeonghan will give you the thing you cherish the most after you comply to his wishes. After his friend leaves, he makes no move to give you your laptop. You should’ve expected it, but it still infuriates you.
“I can’t believe you actually came and did what I asked. It makes me wonder what you're hiding in here.” Jeonghan slurs with a smirk that makes you want to throttle him. “I bet you regret acting the way you have.”
You know he’s talking about the things you’ve done to him as soon as you saw him again, and you resist the urge to scream at him that this is nothing compared to what he did to you. Both of you are too focused on each other to see the camera aimed at the rapidly unfolding fight.
“Just give it back, idiot.” You seethe, trying to keep your composure because things are on the verge of getting messy.
“I’m surprised that top model Y/F/N still has this shitty model. Maybe you should think about upgrading.”
Jeonghan laughs again and tauntingly holds out your laptop. As you step forward to grab it, the sleek device slips out of his hand. Everything seems to go in slow motion as you watch the laptop hit the floor and break open. The screen completely detached from the keyboard, and despite being turned off, you can see the cracks that covered half the screen.
You can hear laughter and immature ohs filling up the space. All rational thoughts are ejected from your mind as you grab a cup from a random party-goer and throw it in Jeonghan’s face. The crowd seems to go wild, but that’s not what you’re focused on. Jeonghan doesn’t look shocked or angry. In fact, he looks a lot like the cat who ate the canary.
You realize too late that the guy from before is pointing his phone at you. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach, but you easily mask your panic and go to pick up the pieces of your broken laptop. The night ends with you running out of the house and a video of you throwing beer in Jeonghan’s face being uploaded for the world to see.
This leaves Jeonghan feeling very pleased with himself.
When he first found out you were going to attend the college he worked so hard to make sure you didn’t get into, it felt like he was living in his worst nightmare. But now with you getting backlash for throwing beer in his face, he’s never felt better. His parents had even reached out to him to get dinner and discuss him moving back in.
“I’m literally never talking to you again.” Soonyoung glares at him with deep resentment. “How could you use me to set up Y/F/N? She probably hates me now.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes as Seungkwan sympathetically pats his friend on the back. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she hates Jeonghan way more.”
Wonwoo snorts while Soonyoung’s pout gets more sulky by the second. While anyone could agree that Jeonghan’s actions were petty and borderline sociopathic, most of the frat was just glad to have him go back to normal. His temperament had been exponentially worse since you decided to finish the semester in person.
The victory, however, is short-lived.
Two days after the video Jeonghan’s frat brother initially posted, you post a video of your own. The caption was nothing short of absolving: Guess he’s mad I didn’t want to endorse the products his daddy tests on animals.
It’s a factor Jeonghan didn’t consider. Someone else had filmed the entire thing from the part where he’s taunting you about your laptop to the part where he so clearly drops it on purpose and you react by throwing beer in his face. It’s almost comedic how fast public opinion changes. The stocks to his father’s company plummet not even a full hour after you post the video, and Jeonghan is getting way more backlash than you did.
When he sees his dad blowing up his phone, he knows this is the final nail in the coffin that will sever the ties with his family.
Meanwhile, you’re not holding up much better. In spite of managing to spin the situation in your favor, your agency is still displeased that you were involved in a scandal at all. Not to mention that Jihoon is clearly disappointed in you. It’s to be expected since he’s the one who helped you convince everyone that taking classes in person wouldn’t be a problem.
“You told me you didn’t want anything to do with Yoon Jeonghan.” Jihoon reminds you two stand in your living room. “Why did you go there in the first place when you’re the one always saying he's some sort of evil mastermind?”
You frown at him, feeling tears of frustration begin to gather in your eyes. “He took the laptop you gave me! How could I let him keep it when you bought it on the salary you had back then?”
Jihoon’s features soften instantly. He lets out a deep sigh and pulls you into his arms. So that’s why. Even he had failed to remember how much that old laptop meant to you. It makes him smile as you quietly sniffle into his shoulder. Jihoon thinks back to when he bought you the laptop and how grateful you had been. He can still remember clearly how you told him that he was the only person to ever believe in your dreams.
“I’m sorry.” He says as he gently pats your back. “I forgot how much that laptop means to you, but I’ll buy you a new one, okay? I should’ve gotten you a new one a long time ago, anyway. Thanks to you and Mingyu, my salary has increased.”
Even after he gets a tearful laugh, Jihoon wonders if going to college is really what’s best for you. He’s the last person who would want to stop you from chasing your real dream, but he can’t shake the feeling that your war with Yoon Jeonghan is far from over.
Jeonghan is an easy going guy who can laugh at his own misfortune, but he really doesn’t see the humor in you single-handedly ruining his life. His friends disagree. Especially Josh, who came down to visit him after years of being abroad.
“I don’t know why you’re acting all surprised. If I was Y/N, I’d try to ruin your life too.” Josh says before he takes a bite of his food. “Actually, I’m surprised that she didn’t try sooner. Especially after what happened at the awards ceremony.”
Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s curiosity is piqued upon hearing that last statement. They lean forward, abandoning all interest in the exquisite food in front of them. In the rendition of Jeonghan’s backstory of the supermodel that hates him, there was no mention of an awards ceremony.
“What happened at the awards ceremony?” Wonwoo asks immediately, not understanding why Jeonghan genuinely looks like he doesn’t know what Josh is talking about.
The atmosphere has quickly changed, and Jeonghan can’t figure out why Josh is making that day seem like it was something more than it was. But there was this feeling in the pit of his stomach that kept growing bigger and bigger. Had something else happened that he didn’t know about?
Josh notices the tense silence that’s suddenly surrounding the table and clears his throat. “I mean, technically, Jeonghan is the one who plotted to ruin Y/N’s life first. He’s the reason her mom went all psycho on her at our end of the year awards ceremony.”
The silence from before gets thicker and more uncomfortable the longer it lasts. Jeonghan looks like he’s just heard some life altering revelation while Josh is looking as clueless as the rest of the boys.
“Wait—” Josh puts down his fork, eyes wide with disbelief. “Why are you acting like you don’t know?”
“I...” Jeonghan swallows thickly. All he remembers from that day is that vacant expression you had on your face when he won the scholarship. The one that still makes him feel like someone is reaching inside his chest and squeezing his heart.
“So what exactly happened?” Seungkwan asks since his friend can’t seem to even think straight.
“We were all mean to her.” Josh admits with a sigh. “I mean, she’s the daughter of a failed businessman, plus she had beef with Hannie since birth. It was too easy to give her shit and fuck with her.”
His friends are uncharacteristically quiet, and it’s so uncomfortable that Jeonghan just wants to die. But not before he hears about what Josh meant about the awards ceremony.
“When Jeonghan found out she applied for the Merit Scholarship, he applied for it too. His dad is friends with the guy who was head of the scholarship foundation, so of course he was going to get it. We all thought it’d be pretty funny to see how her parents would react when she lost.”
Jeonghan’s friends give him very judgmental stares that he honestly deserves.
“But I didn't get to.” Jeonghan recalls quietly. “Y/N and her mom left the auditorium right after, and I had to stay behind to take a bunch of pictures for the school’s newsletter.”
There’s another tense silence where Joshua looks like he has some sort of dilema. He wonders if telling Jeonghan after so long is only going to make things worse.
“You said Y/N’s mom went all psycho on her.” Wonwoo says. “How is that Jeonghan’s fault?”
“Aside Y/N would’ve gotten that scholarship if it wasn’t for Jeonghan, her mom was mad because she lost to him in particular. As soon as they got outside she started yelling at her about how useless she was. She even slapped her in front of everyone and basically disowned her."
“Damn.” Is all Soonyoung is able to say before turning to Jeonghan. “I would hate you too.”
Jeonghan can’t say anything because he’s thinking the exact same thing.
After a very eye-opening lunch, Jeonghan realizes now that you won’t stop your revenge until you’ve completely destroyed him. This sends him into a panic and makes him come up with a plan that will hopefully knock you down a few pegs.
Jeonghan enlists the help of your stepbrother, Seokmin. Unbeknownst to maybe the kindest guy he’s ever met, he helps Jeonghan lure not only you, but also your dad to the silent auction your university is hosting. Getting you two to arrive at the same times is a bit tricky, but Jeonghan manages to pull it off after telling Seokmin to give your father a certain time.
All Jeonghan has to do is linger by the entrance and wait for you to arrive. Which you do, and in a beautiful dress, no less. It’s almost a pity that your night is going to be ruined in approximately five seconds. He’s far enough for you to not notice him yet and close enough to hear your father call out to you from behind.
“Y/N.”
You freeze at the sound of your name being spoken. It had been years, but you would never forget that voice. You turn around slowly, feeling an onslaught of emotions hit you like a truck when you see your father standing in front of you.
There’s a tension between you and your father that Jeonghan recognizes immediately. For some reason, it makes him feel uncomfortable rather than satisfied. He's not sure why that is, but he can't stop watching. It’s unexpected because despite knowing that you were estranged from him, he didn’t expect it to be like this.
“How have you been?” Your father is hesitant in his movements as he steps closer to you.
You hate feeling the way you currently do; like a little girl who’s powerless in front of her father. The feeling is worse because he’s staring at you like he never abandoned you to start another life that didn’t involve you.
“You’ve seen the articles.” You reply coldly. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know.”
The tense atmosphere affects even Jeonghan, and he can’t help but start to feel a little regret because this is not what he had in mind at all. It’s not funny nor does it satiate the vengeful side you always brought out in him. Right now, the situation feels like some sort of erroneous event that should’ve never happened in the first place.
“I was pleased to see what you’ve done to the Yoon family.” He genuinely sounds proud, but you’re not twelve years old anymore so it doesn’t mean anything to you. All it does is make you feel sick. “Honestly, I never thought you’d be able to do it. You surprised me.”
Jeonghan can’t laugh. It should be funny, but it's not. Your father is giving you a back-handed compliment despite being one of the top models in the industry and someone who has the potential to be a global star. Instead of that sweet feeling he’s always gotten from messing with you, all he feels is disgust.
“I’m sure your mom is pleased as well.” He says awkwardly after you don’t say anything. “How is she, by the way?”
The last thing you want to talk about is her, but his ignorance to the feelings you harbor for your mom actually makes you scoff in bewilderment. Emotions you thought you’d gotten rid of long ago start to push at the surface and gather at the center of your chest. You hate that you can’t shove them away and pretend they’re not affecting you the way they are.
Jeonghan flinches when your next words come out in the phonic form of ice. “You know I haven’t talked to her since she kicked me out of her house.”
There’s this long pause where the entire vicinity seems to have gone as cold as your voice. The candor of your words make Jeonghan’s jaw drop. An intense discomfort seeps into his veins and strikes him right in the chest. The story Joshua told him is undoubtedly true, and now he’s starting to realize he was the one who put that domino effect into place.
“I would’ve helped you if you let me—”
Your dad stops talking when you start laughing. It’s not a joyful or amused laugh. It’s cold and resentful. You almost can’t believe the audacity that your father has. His selective memory has always pissed you off, but now he was crossing the line.
“Why are you here?” You demand, unwilling to prolong this unexpected encounter. “This is an alumni event.”
“Seokmin invited me.” His answer shouldn’t have disappointed you, but for some infuriating reason it still did. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
There’s so many things that you want to say. All these years you thought about how it would all play out if you saw him again, but now that it’s actually happening, you can’t say anything that you wanted to.
“The actions you’ve taken against the Yoon family have impressed me so far.” He says like you’ll be happy about his praise. “I thought it would be appropriate to say this to you. That’s all.”
When you see that familiar contempt and unimpressed expression on your father’s face, you can’t help but think that you should’ve never left your house to come out. The figure in your peripheral vision hasn’t moved, and you can only assume he’s waiting for you to react the way he wants.
The silence that looms is tense and uncomfortable. Even Jeonghan can feel it from where he’s watching. It’s strange. The scene in front of him should be satisfying, but it’s not. Not even close.
“What is it that you want to say, then?”
“I know for a fact that Yoon Jeonghan is planning to use a large part of his trust to buy your rival agency. I’ll loan you a substantial amount of money to counter that offer and steal it from him.”
Now, there’s not much that can catch Jeonghan off guard, but what the fuck. His intentions and deals were strictly confidential. How was it possible that your father knew?
“I’m sure you know the reason this chance is so important.”
That anticlimactic moment makes Jeonghan pause. He vaguely recognizes the sick feeling in his stomach as one of realization. The scene in front of him was nothing more then a distorted reflection of his own relationship with his father.
In the time he hadn’t seen you, you’d gotten good at schooling your reactions, but now anyone can see how helpless you feel. That expression reminds him of how he felt when his own father told him to buy the agency and find a model that was capable of taking the crown you’ve had for the last two years. It was never about Jeonghan’s happiness, it was all about his dad’s vanity and ego. He could see now that was still the case for you as well.
“You want me to humiliate him and his family one more time.”
Your father smirks. “Now you’re getting it. You need to prove to everyone—especially that boy and his family—that you’ve always been better.”
All the things you’ve done to Jeonghan come to the forefront of your mind and you suddenly feel more sick and disgusted than ever. This entire time you inadvertently pushed your obsessive father’s agenda because you were still angry about something that happened years ago. There’s this tight knot in your throat that suddenly makes it hard to speak, but you manage anyway.
“When are you going to stop using me for your petty rivalry?” You demand angrily. “I’m not going to be the kind of person who steps on other people for no reason.”
Your father scoffs, furious eyes filled with disappointment. “No reason?”
His laughter that follows is cold and manic. “You think this is just about my dislike for that family? No. This is about who you’re going to turn out to be. Are you going to be weak? Swayed by every sob story that crosses your path? How do you expect to take over my company if you’re so spineless?”
Jeonghan doesn’t feel any satisfaction like he expects. Instead he feels this ugly, jagged feeling deep in his chest. He feels like he's watching some sort of reenactment of him and his own father.
“Don’t forget. I have no use for such a pathetic daughter.”
The silence feels like it’s going to last forever, and in the stillness, Jeonghan feels sorry for you. This entire time he had been so stuck on his own turmoil that he forgot you were also the verge of being crushed by the weight of your family’s expectations. Just like his own father, your dad clearly had no regard for anyone’s feelings—even his own child’s. The test of time hadn’t changed him at all. Unfortunately, the same could be said for his father. It was disheartening to know that you were both nothing more than pawns in their childish game of revenge.
“That’s funny because right now the pathetic one is you.” Jeonghan feels oddly proud at how cutthroat you sound right now. “Don’t act like that company is something you can give away, you know, since it belongs to your wife and not you.”
Your truthful words finally manage to silence him, but you can’t stop there. “Plus, I know you’d rather give everything you have to Seokmin anyway, right? I mean, he is the son you’ve always wanted.”
“Don’t blame him for my mistakes, Y/N.”
“God—When are you going to open your fucking eyes and realize I don’t blame anyone else but you!?” You suddenly yell, unable to keep stifling your feelings.
It’s quiet for a moment before your father speaks again, his voice cold and calculating. “What about the Yoon family? Don’t you blame them? Aren’t they the ones who crushed your dreams?”
Jeonghan holds his breath despite knowing your answer. Of course you did. There was no way you didn’t. If the roles were reversed, he would, too.
You did blame that fucking family for a lot, but never for what your parents did to you. They had nothing to do with the fact that your mom and dad aren’t worthy of being parents. Also, if you truly thought back on it (which you had—countless times), your parents were the one who destroyed your dreams before anyone else could.
“Why would I blame anyone else for what you and your ex wife did to me? You two are the ones who decided I was useless because I couldn’t get you back to where you wanted to be.” You say, voice void of any perceptible emotion.
The silence is thick and heavy with tension. You swallow thickly and belatedly remember that you’re being watched. By this time, you imagine Jeonghan has enough material to humiliate you accordingly, but you’re too fucking exhausted to care. The petty actions you’ve taken so far were justified in your eyes, but even so, you wish you had just let it go. Talking to the man who abandoned you and only came looking for you when he deemed you as useful let you see that.
“Just leave.” Dad. You almost say it like he’s worthy of being that. “Do what you want with this sick obsession you have with the Yoon family, but leave me out of it because I’m done being used for your petty revenge.”
Your father scoffs. “I knew you didn’t have what it takes. I’ll go, but I’ll leave you with this: Yoon Jeonghan’s father knows his son will stop at nothing to destroy you. He was bragging about how his son was going to ruin you with this agency he’s going to buy. Think about that next time you want to be the better person.”
With that, he walks away from you, possibly for the last time.
Despite feeling numb, there’s still angry tears poking the back of your eyes. You let out a shaky sigh, knowing now isn’t the time to cry like you want. “Are you going keep hiding in the shadows like you didn’t set this up?”
Jeonghan’s blood runs cold, and for a moment he contemplates on running. He’s not exactly sure how you found out or even knew that he was watching, but there was no point in pretending. As usual, you knew everything.
You turn around, face still a mess of emotions. Two hours before, you might’ve cared about losing face in front of Jeonghan, but that was no longer the case. No matter what actions he took against you after this, you were done feeding into this game. As soon as the semester was over, you were going back to your normal life and leave behind all these shitty memories.
The expression on your face is eerily similar to the one from when he took your scholarship—a look of defeated resignation. Jeonghan figures that he gets a similar expression on his face when he fights with his dad. That suffocated look is one he knows all too well.
“You’re not going to say anything?”
Jeonghan is reminded of that first day of senior year when he saw you again. In that split second as you're gazing at him with crystal-like tears shining in your pretty eyes, he makes a decision.
“Be my girlfriend.”
His words hang in the air, and you can only look at Jeonghan like he’s lost his mind. You two stare at each other, until you finally manage to form some words through your bewilderment. “What? What are you—?”
“Be my girlfriend.” He says with more conviction. “And help me get revenge on our parents.”
You blink, feeling more confused than ever. Briefly, you wonder if the intensity of your emotions has driven you into some sort of delirium. Either that, or Jeonghan really has lost his mind.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He actually pouts at you. “You said you were done being used by your dad. I feel the same way. I’m tired of only being useful for their sick obsession.”
Maybe it’s the exhaustion you feel from all the emotions you’ve ran dry or maybe it’s because the little snake actually sounds convincing, but either way you agree.
“Fine, but I have conditions.”
Realistically, Jeonghan knew that (fake) dating you wouldn’t be easy, but he never expected to be put on blast like he has been—least of all by you. He’s waiting outside your last class, trying to pretend like he’s not furious.
“Angel face.” Jeonghan’s smile is deceptively calm and pretty. “We need to talk.”
You grimace at him as he loops his arm through yours and begins walking you out of the building towards his sleek car. “Yeah, we do because what the hell is that pet name? It makes you sound like some middle-aged creep.”
Jeonghan laughs stiffly, not wanting to attract the wrong kind of attention. People were already skeptical about your relationship, and he couldn’t let his brilliant plan fail before it got to the good part. He manages to keep his cool and even opens the passenger door for you, gently stroking your head as you get in. It’s almost annoying how good he is at acting affectionate.
“You’re breaking your own rules.” Jeonghan scowls as he starts the car.
You already know he’s talking about your interview that went public an hour ago. His deep frown makes you smirk. “Don’t be mad at me, angel face.”
Jeonghan’s annoyance is oddly soothed by your cute laughter, and he briefly wonders if he’s starting to go insane. His friends would likely tell him that he is. Meanwhile, you’re also wondering if you’re going insane because the surly pout Jeonghan has on his face isn’t as off-putting as it usually is.
“I did what was necessary for the plan.” You explain, trying not to sound like you’re mocking him. “Now everyone likes us together. See?”
Jeonghan finally looks at your phone when he gets to a stoplight. Even just skimming the comments under the article, he can see the tides beginning to shift in his favor. He looks back at the road with a pout. Sure, everything was in the name of revenge, but he wasn’t sure if the humiliation was worth it.
“I guess, but... I don’t think you had to say that I cried while begging for your forgiveness.”
You give him an annoyed look. “Honestly, that’s the least you could do to repent for everything that you’ve done to me. Just consider yourself lucky that I let everything slide due to our mutual need to get revenge.”
Jeonghan scoffs, but says nothing else the entire time he drives to the restaurant he’s been dying to eat at for weeks. The reservation he made two weeks ago was at the beginning of next month, but you had managed to get one within minutes. It was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, and he had heard nothing but good things.
Your hands slips into his easily as you two walk into the two MICHELIN star restaurant. Jeonghan tries not to think about how holding your soft hand doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as he thought it would. Instead he focuses on the extravagant interior of the restaurant. He’s seen the pictures online, but they didn’t capture the essence of the place at all.
He notices the looks you’re getting from the staff when you say your last name to the hostess. Unlike the attention you get at school, the other guests and staff are subtle with the looks they’re giving you as you two are guided into the restaurant. It’s a different type of uncomfortable, but Jeonghan notices that you don’t seem to be fazed by it at all.
“Hannie.” You call so affectionately that Jeonghan has to stop himself from gaping at you. “I booked one of the tables on the balcony, I hope you don’t mind.”
“No.” He says, feeling like he’s in a trance as you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.
As you two near the balcony, he sees the group of people sitting at one of the tables. Your hand tightens around his, but your face remains clean of any emotions. Jeonghan isn’t sure why he softly caresses your thumb in a comforting way. Maybe it’s because he knows that despite wanting revenge, executing it didn’t mean all the unpleasant feelings that came with seeing your father would magically go away.
“How’d you know he’d be here?” Jeonghan wonders after you two are seated.
You hum softly, thinking of a way to say something so deprecating without sounding completely pitiful. Eventually, you decide you don’t need to be so cautious because Jeonghan has already seen all the ugly parts of your life you never wanted anyone to see.
“It’s his birthday, today.” Your gaze flickers past his shoulder for a split second. “He always has this intimate dinner with his family before throwing his actual party. Seokmin mentioned that he wanted to have the dinner here this year.”
Jeonghan doesn’t have time to process how detached you seem because you give him a wicked smirk. “I know you can’t see, but he looks fucking livid right now.”
He’s not sure why he feels relieved when you start laughing like you weren’t feeling suffocated a few seconds ago. It makes him wonder if you’re aware that he can still tell what you’re feeling. Jeonghan had an innate talent for it since childhood, and now it seemed to be more fine-tuned than ever.
“Then, should we take it a step further?”
You give him a questioning gaze. The confusion you feel slowly turns into an emotion that feels somewhat familiar yet foreign all at the same time. It’s something you can’t pinpoint or name, but it’s definitely there as Jeonghan puts a velvet box on the table. Something inside your chest jerks when you realize that he went out and bought you a gift to help you get the reaction you were looking for.
Jeonghan slides the box over to you, a cocky smirk on his face. “Open it, darling. I’m sure you’ll love it.”
You don’t comment on the pet name (especially since you like it way better than the other one) as you do what he says. The box contains a beautiful necklace that looks like it could be from a man in love (or one set on getting revenge).
“It’s beautiful.” You say with a smile as the feeling in your chest jerks again. “Want to put it on me?”
Jeonghan immediately stands from his seat and walks around the table. He’s good at keeping his eyes trained on you, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the three heads clearly staring in the direction of your table. Jeonghan takes the necklace from the box and bends down to clip it into place. Your scent invades his senses, and it makes it way too easy to admire the way the diamonds shine against your skin.
You feel soft lips press against your cheek before gentle words are whispered into your ear. “It suits you just like I knew it would.”
There’s a loud thumping in the air that only you two can seem to hear.
Jeonghan’s hands are holding on to your shoulders as you look up at him. The thumping seems to get louder. “Thank you for my gift, love.”
On impulse more than anything, your (fake) boyfriend swoops down to press a lingering kiss on your lips. He pulls back, feeling an awkward warmth crawling up his neck. You don’t look surprised or disgusted, instead you give him a fond smile that seems more genuine the longer he looks at it. Jeonghan takes his seat again, the infuriated man tables behind you long forgotten by either of you.
There’s a shift in your relationship that night. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Neither you nor Jeonghan really take notice. All you two are aware of is that playing pretend isn’t as awful as you both thought it would be. Expectedly, you scheming deviants have the time of your life playing with this new dynamic there is between you.
Jeonghan has become overly familiarized with your apartment by now. He’s waiting on your nice couch, watching as your team finishes working on your hair and makeup. It’s interesting to see just how much effort goes into looking absolutely flawless for all the cameras. Before this, he didn’t realize certain types of makeup and hair styles photographed better.
“Flawless as always!” Your makeup artist squeals as he takes videos and pictures to document his handiwork.
You don’t look exhausted physically, but Jeonghan still worries that you might already be drained. He knows he would be, especially because your manager keeps reminding you of all the people you need to get a photo with and at what time you need to be home by because you have two different shoots in the morning.
Jeonghan watches silently as your stylist follows you to your room to help you put on the custom dress Wen Junhui has made especially for you to wear to the new Givenchy pop-up shop opening. From what you’ve said, it’s supposed to match the suit he has on—which was also custom made for him by the famous designer.
When you step back into the living room wearing the fitted dress, Jeonghan feels like he’s staring at a living goddess. He can’t take his eyes off you as Jihoon snaps some photos of you. Being starstruck is something he didn’t think was actually possible, but now he understands why Soonyoung still can’t act normal when he brings you around.
“You look amazing.” Jeonghan says breathlessly, still completely entranced by your appearance.
“So do you. I’ll have to give Jun my thanks for making us the hottest couple at this event.”
After a few pictures together for your socials, you two set off to the pop-up shop. The event is expectedly large and grand. So many important people had gathered, but he only cared about the one person who he knew would be there. Jeonghan is quick to spot his father. Ironically, he’s talking with the man who designed the suit he's wearing.
You’re only a little taken aback when Jeonghan wraps his arms around you while you’re talking to a newcomer model you met last year during fashion week. It’s all you can do to keep talking normally as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands gently caress the material of your dress. He’s pressing himself closer to you like he wants to mold your bodies together.
When you’re finally left alone, you turn your head to give him a questioning look. You only get a pleased expression in return. The adorably goofy look makes your heart flutter with unwarranted affection.
“I’m clingy.” Jeonghan says bluntly. “And as my girlfriend, you’re obligated to indulge me.”
Your laugh is airy and filled with endearment because honestly, you don’t hate the faux affection. His embrace isn’t uncomfortable. Oddly, it makes the usual anxiousness you get at these events melt away. It’s only an added bonus to what you actually came by to get.
His father looks a lot like yours did. It’s almost funny because it takes less than a second after he sees you two together for him to come over and demand to speak to his son alone. You almost decline for Jeonghan, but you stop yourself when you remember the clause that states neither of you will interfere with family matters other than indirectly making them angry with your relationship.
Your (fake) boyfriend isn’t gone for long, but he’s clearly upset. Instead of letting it visibly show, he indulges in more champagne and mingling. It’s only when he starts slurring his words that you decide it’s time to go.
You're not sure why you don’t take him back to his frat house. It would’ve been easier and less of a hassle, but you found yourself unwilling to part with Jeonghan when he was clearly so distraught and incoherent. You force feed him water before laying him down in your guest bedroom.
“My dad’s such an asshole.” Jeonghan sighs, arm thrown over his eyes as you take off his shoes for him.
You hum in agreement, finally looking back at his face. His cheeks and neck are suffused with color, and you wonder what exactly his father said to make him this upset. It makes you wonder if he was starting to regret doing this entire thing with you.
“Don’t think about him anymore.” You whisper, not sure why that last thought is so upsetting. “Just get some sleep, okay?”
You go to get up, but are stopped by a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist. Jeonghan has moved his arm and is now looking directly at you. His eyes are shining with so many emotions that you recognize, but somehow can’t seem to decipher enough to tell what exactly he’s feeling. The intensity of his stare makes somehow makes you feel exposed.
“Stay with me.” His voice is more vulnerable than you expect. “Please.”
It’s like your legs move on their own as they sit you back at his side. He doesn’t make a move to let go of your wrist and you don’t think to shake off his touch. The silence is full of unspoken words, and you only wait for him to say what’s clearly bothering him.
“I don’t hate you.”
His words are surprising, mostly because they’re something you never thought you’d hear. Jeonghan doesn’t give you a chance to say anything because he keeps talking. “I don’t know why, but I can’t hate you the way I’m supposed to.” His gaze goes to the ceiling as if he’s trying to sort out all the thoughts you can see running through his mind. “I never could.”
“I don’t hate you either.” You tell him honestly.
“But I ruined your life.” Jeonghan frowns as if he’s recalling every horrible thing he ever did to you.
“I ruined yours.” You counter lightheartedly.
Jeonghan laughs a bit and closes his eyes. “Hope you can forgive me for real someday.”
He starts snoring before you can tell him that you already have.
“They look so cute together.”
This phrase was one Jeonghan got used to hearing since you two started dating, and he hates it. Not because it’s unpleasant to hear (it’s not), but because half the time that phrase was being used to describe you and Kim Mingyu. The two girls in his financial analysis class are squealing about your most recent photo shoot which included some shots with your model friend.
“Jealousy is not a good look on you.” Seungkwan laughs when he sees the look on his friend's face.
Jeonghan only rolls his eyes and pretends that Seungkwan’s words don’t affect him the way they do. Because there’s no way he’s jealous. How could he be jealous of someone that was nothing more than a coworker? And there's no reason for him to be jealous even if that wasn’t the case because he doesn’t have any feelings for you.
At least, that’s what he tells himself when you tell him you’re going to have to reschedule your weekly dinner because of that stupidly tall model everyone ships you with. Instead of letting it go like he should’ve done, Jeonghan reminds you that having dinner out in public once a week is part of your deal.
It’s almost cute the way he does it. Jeonghan says it like a whiny child that’s begging for attention. So you promise him to meet him the next day, but he’s not having it. Jeonghan insists that you come to his frat’s party after you’re done. Which you do, and you don’t know what to think on what you stumble on. Jeonghan is absolutely hammered, but he’s also really happy to see you.
“Darling!” He yells, abandoning the game of beer pong he’s currently winning.
You’re surprised when he races toward you and crushes you with a hug. The wolf whistles and cat calls fade into the background as Jeonghan pulls you along with him to sit on the couch, not caring for his partner’s loud protest for him to finish the game. His grip is strong as he tugs you on his lap. The grin he gives you when you easily comply is so pretty it hurts.
“You look so pretty.” Jeonghan is talking to you in pout, and you think you might melt at how cute he looks. “Can’t believe you went out with another guy looking so good.”
You let out a shocked laugh. He sounds like a jealous boyfriend, and for some reason it doesn’t repulse or annoy you. It does confuse you, though.
“I can’t believe you were out here getting drunk with sorority girls while I had a business dinner with Mingyu and Jihoon.”
His laugh is so cute, and the way he hugs you tighter and burrows his face into your neck is even cuter. You notice the lingering eyes, and it reminds you that the affection you’re receiving isn’t real. It also makes you think about how there’s really no need for him to be acting like this. There’s no reporters around or anyone that would run back to your families to let them know how “in love” you two are.
And yet, you don’t feel like pushing him off.
“Let’s get you to bed.” You say, trying to act like your heart isn’t pounding as if it’s on the verge of imploding.
“To your house?” He looks up, hooded eyes looking at you with an emotion that seems familiar, but foreign-looking in his eyes.
“No.” You force yourself to say despite wanting to give into his pleading stare. “Your bed is upstairs, silly.”
Jeonghan leans more into you, letting out disappointed hum that tickles your skin. “Want to stay with you.”
You’re pretty sure you’re going to regret what you do next, but you for some reason you can’t explain to yourself, you’re unwilling to leave him alone when he clearly wants to stay with you. So you decide it’s easier to take him upstairs as he drunkenly points out where his room is. You plop down on his bed, surprised that Jeonghan hasn’t let go of you once the entire time.
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” You say as he shoves his face in your neck.
“Stay forever.”
It’s stupid the way your heart interprets the words even though your brain knows he only meant stay for tonight. You’re more worried that you wish he meant it in the way he said it.
In the morning, you wake up to see that you’re alone. The discomfort you feel is eased when the door opens minutes later to reveal Jeonghan with several shopping bags in hand. You spot the familiar Valentino and Christian Louboutin bags almost instantly.
“You’re awake.” The smile he gives you is sleepy and tired, but so damn attractive.
“You went shopping.” You say, trying to understand how he got up before you. “Don’t you have a hangover?”
“I do.” He admits, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “But you need fresh clothes after you shower, so I went out to buy you some. I also got you some other stuff from the drug store.”
You don’t know how to process the fact that your fake boyfriend went out to buy you all the things you need. Especially since it was clear he made more than one stop. Jeonghan doesn’t seem to notice just how shocked you are as he places the bags on his bed and insists you look through them. You do as he says, feeling an intruding warmth fill your chest.
“Why’d you get me shoes?” You wonder when you open the Louboutin box.
“The shoes you came with don’t go with the dress I got you.”
His words make your heart thump with adoration that can’t be stifled. Heat spreads across your face as you hastily thank him before hurrying into the bathroom with the toiletries he bought for you so he can’t see just how much his actions affected you. It’s hard to ignore all the emotions gathering in your chest. Jeonghan is an exceptionally good actor, but you keep wondering why he's going this far. What’s worse is that you can’t say you hate it. Actually, you probably like it a little too much.
When you’re done showering, you dry your hair and try on the dress Jeonghan bought you. It’s snug against your frame, and you have to marvel at the fact that he actually did a great job choosing your size. You tentatively step out of the bathroom to see Jeonghan sitting on the bed occupied with his phone. It feels like the air is knocked out of him when he looks up to see you dressed in something he picked out and bought for you.
“Want to get breakfast?”
You try to ignore the fact that you’re playing a dangerous game by blurring the lines you’ve drawn when you say yes.
“Should we breakup before I go to Milan or after I come back from Paris?”
Your question is so casual that Jeonghan almost thinks he didn’t hear you right. He looks up from his phone to see you pulling out a suitcase from your closet. It’s almost painful that you don’t seem to realize how much your words have affected him.
“Breakup?” He repeats, throat going dry and heart sinking.
The way you nod normally like he doesn’t feel sick to his stomach has him reeling. “Yeah. Our parents are mad enough now, and the semester is almost over so I’ll start taking online classes again.”
Your reasoning makes sense (maybe a little too much), but Jeonghan really can’t accept what you’re saying. All that registers is the fact that you’re leaving and planning on having nothing to do with him anymore.
“You’re not coming back?”
You wonder if he actually sounds disappointed or if it’s just you wishing that he does. Either way, you can’t let him know that you feel like your heart is being ripped out because you’re asking to plan your breakup. “My agency only agreed to let me take classes in person for a semester. After the scandal I had with you, they don’t want me coming back again.”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
You try to pretend like his words don’t evoke an emotion out of you that you should definitely not feel for him.
“And I don’t want to breakup.”
The silence is heavy. It isn’t easy to not interpret his words as a plea to stay because he has feelings for you. Especially since you’re sure that’s not what he means. “If it’s about your dad we can—”
“This has nothing to do with my dad.” Jeonghan says, frustrated that you’re not understanding how he's feeling. “This is about you and me—about us.”
It’s strange to think that there is an us when it comes to you and Jeonghan now, but he can’t let you fly across the world without letting you know how he feels.
“You have to know that this isn’t fake to me.” He says, more nervous and determined than ever.
You can’t say anything. Not because you think it’s some joke or that he’s not being sincere, but because you can’t believe these feelings that had been flourishing since you two decided to let go of the past are being reciprocated.
“I know you probably still hate me, and I don’t blame you if you do. Back then, I ruined your life because I was insecure and wanted to make my dad proud. And now because of me, you won’t be able to come back to school even though going to this university has been your dream since we were kids.” Jeonghan soldiers on even though every single emotion is trying to peak through. “I’m an idiot to realize it so late, and I’m a bigger one to be apologizing to you only now.”
Jeonghan walks toward you until he’s directly in front of you. Just as you hope he seals his apology with a kiss, he falls to his knees, bunny-like eyes looking at you imploringly.
“I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m going to ask for your forgiveness anyway. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you since you came back into my life.” He’s close to tears as he grabs your hands. “I’ll do anything for your forgiveness. Just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”
Your heart is thumping so erratically that it feels like it’s on the verge of exploding. Yoon Jeonghan is on his knees in front of you, eyes wet and pleading for you to forgive him. The onslaught of emotions you feel are scrambling your brain to the point where you can hardly think. “Hannie...”
The nickname makes him hopeful that maybe he can earn your forgiveness. He grips your hands a little tighter and gently uses his thumbs to caress the back of your hands.
“I don’t hate you, and I already forgave a long time ago.” You confess with a smile, heart still pounding.
Jeonghan stands and crushes you with a hug, body sagging in relief to know that you don’t hate him. He closes his eyes as he buries his face into your neck. The anxiety he was feeling fades away as he basks in your embrace.
“I’m sorry too.” Your apology is slightly muffled. “I was wrong to make your life a living hell, and I hope you can also forgive me.”
Jeonghan hugs you tighter. “I already have. It’s not like I didn't deserve it.”
You two laugh a bit until you pull back to look at your (fake?) boyfriend. “You really don’t want to be away from me?”
Jeonghan pouts and nods. He briefly thinks he might have to hang a sign around his neck for you to realize he never wants you to leave his side.
“Why?”
You need to hear him say it. This way, you’ll know for sure that you’re not just lucid dreaming.
“Because I’m in love with you.”
Jeonghan never thought he could miss someone as much as he missed you. He’s surprised that it can feel like you’ve been away from him for years when in reality it’s only been a week. Not that it matters because he finally has you in his arms again. And he plans on showering you with love before you have to leave for Paris.
“I missed you so much.”
You feel breathless when Jeonghan’s lips mold against yours, not giving you a chance to say that you missed him too. He’s nestled between your legs as his lips devour yours, not caring that he’s been in the same position for the last fifteen minutes. Jeonghan can’t get enough of you, and he’s only gotten a small taste.
The whine you let out when Jeonghan’s tongue starts to play with yours is so hot that he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. One of his hands trails down your body to grab a handful of your ass before smoothing over your thigh to hook your leg over his hip. You moan into his mouth as your core grinds into his hardening dick.
Finally, you pull away from him, pupils blown wide with lust. “Missed you so much, Hannie.”
Your boyfriend gently grinds down in order to hear another one of your sensual moans. His dark eyes are staring at you with so much desire that your cunt starts to pulse at the thought of having him carnally.
“Let me show you how much I missed you.”
Jeonghan is patient as he undresses you. It’s a contrast to the way he quickly strips his own clothes. You know it’s because your dress is a custom gift from Wen Junhui, and it makes your heart warm and cunt drip with more slick at the thought that he actually remembered.
When he settles his head between your legs and spreads you open, you feel a bashful heat course through your body. Jeonghan is staring straight at your core with the most heated gaze you’ve ever received from a man. “Fuck. I knew you were pretty everywhere.”
Jeonghan’s gives your pussy a harsh slap, earning a surprised moan from you. He soothes the sting by gently rubbing his fingers against your clit, loving how wet your pussy keeps getting. Any coherent response you’re thinking of is quick to disappear when Jeonghan dives into your awaiting cunt. His tongue laps and slobbers all over your drooling lips, messily making out with the heaven between your legs.
The way Jeonghan is groaning into your pussy in absolute pleasure makes you grind you cunt into his mouth, moaning and crying out in just as much pleasure. His fingers flex into the flesh of your soft thighs as they lock around his head. Jeonghan greedily licks every inch of your sopping cunt, chin and cheeks increasingly becoming covered in your sweet juices as they drip down to the sheets below him.
“Fuck, Hannie!” You cry out with a jolt, hips rolling incessantly into his mouth. “Keep doing that! Feels so good.”
“Yeah? Like it how I fuck you with my tongue, darling?” He rasps burying his face deeper into your hot cunt.
You’re slowly slipping into a euphoric state that won’t allow you to think straight, and you’re only able to stay coherent because he pulls away momentarily to slide his fingers between your folds. He lewdly spreads you open before diving back in, slurping up every last bit of your juices. The taste of you had his cock twitching and throbbing between his thighs.
Jeonghan groans when your fingers slide into his hair as your pussy keeps getting tighter around his tongue. The room in the air feels hot as he continues to lap at your cunt, and you can only pant and moan as you feel a familiar feeling pooling in your stomach.
The entire lower half of his face feels sticky, but Jeonghan needs more. Wants it to be messier. His hands slip under to grab your ass and push you deeper on his tongue. Lewd squelches mix in with your cries of pleasure as he fucks you with his tongue. You feel your eyes roll back and your back arch when he gently starts to circle your puffy clit. Jeonghan then wraps his lips around it before sucking it into his mouth.
“Fuck.” You moan out. “Jeonghan! Gonna come!”
His tongue rolls the sensitive bud as you jerk in his hold. Jeonghan’s groans are only turning you on even more because you can tell he’s enjoying this as much as you are. The arousal he feels has his cock aching for any sort of friction, but he’s just so lost in you that he can’t really care that his erection is starting to hurt. Honestly, he feels like he could eat you out forever.
“So fucking good.” You babble as your clit knocks against his nose with every buck of your hips.
You jolt when you feel Jeonghan suck your clit between his teeth, nibbling on the sensitive bud until your orgasm finally washes over you. Instead of pulling away, he pulls you closer and laps up your cream, slurping up everything you have to offer him. Precum gathers at the tip of his aching cock that he can feel it staining his underwear, but he’s too focused on you creaming on his tongue to care.
Your body goes slack after you ride out your orgasm. Jeonghan pulls a way from your cunt with a satisfied smirk. He wastes no time in getting rid of his underwear, leaking cock springing up with a wet slap against his lower abdomen after he takes it off. You lick your you lips and pull him closer to you as you’re eager to feel his skin on yours again.
“Like what you see, darling?” Jeonghan coos with a cocky smirk.
He’s stroking his thick cock slowly as he watches your eyes fix on the girth between his legs, raking them over him slowly with unmistakeable hunger. His cock is as pretty as he is; long and thick with the bulbous head oozing plenty of precum. The veins running alongside it have your cunt aching in need to feel them drag along your walls. Jeonghan undoubtedly has one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever seen, and you whine out in need as you cling to his neck. Your hips buck up on their own, desperate to feel even the slightest bit of friction.
“Don’t tease me.” You pout, eyes blinking up at him pleadingly.
That face you’re making is dangerous, Jeonghan thinks. It’s capable of getting you whatever you want. He has to close his eyes and exhale deeply when you snake a hand between your bodies and grip his cock, squeezing gently to goad him into fucking you. It’s hot and heavy in your hand and wet with his precum. Your hand drags over him in slow strokes.
“I want you so bad.” You whine into his ear. “Please.”
“You—“ He breathes with a stutter, hips slowly rolling into your hand. “Y-You have to answer me first, baby.”
You roll your thumb over his weeping tip, collecting the wet bead of his precum before smearing it along his cock. His whimpers and moans are so pretty, and you just revel in the sounds that you’re emmiting from him.
“Tell me. Tell me how much you want my cock.”
“Want your cock, Hannie. It’s so pretty—need it inside me.” You mewl as you squeeze the base of his dick.
Jeonghan lets out a chuckle that’s breathy against your ear. It sounds smug despite the blush spreading on his face. “Think it’s pretty, huh? The prettiest cock you’ve ever seen?”
“Mhm.” You moan as he slides his tip up and down your entrance, collecting your juices along his cock before he slaps your cunt with his dick.
Finally, he relents and slowly pushes past your wet folds. You both let out loud moans at the feeling of each other. Jeonghan feels like he’s in heaven with how your hot, tight cunt is gripping his cock while you feel a burning pleasure licking up your entire body as his big cock splits you open.
“Fuh-Fuck, darling. Tight little pussy’s gonna drive me crazy.” He groans before leaning forward to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, tongue exploring your mouth as he drinks in your moans.
You whimper and whine into his mouth, eyelids fluttering in pleasure as he slowly starts to fuck his cock into you. Jeonghan pulls away with a deep groan. His eyes roll to the back of his head as your tight cunt squeezes his dick. Your arms a wrap around his neck as your legs do the same around his waist. Jeonghan’s cock throbs, nearly coming at the sight of your mouth hanging open in pleasure.
“Such a pretty little cunt. And it’s all for me.”
“Only for you, babe.” You say through a moan, bucking your hips up to meet his slow thrusts.
Your actions make his cock hit deep inside you, the leaking tip brushing against your sweet spot. A wanton moan escapes you at the feeling. You arch your back in absolute pleasure, not believing that he’s able to reach that deep inside you. Jeonghan smirks at your reaction, loving how you’re already so lost on his cock. His hips keep rolling against yours, forcing his thick cock in and out of your tight pussy.
Jeonghan is splitting you open as he fucks his cock into you. Your head is swimming from the pleasure as he picks up his pace. His moans only add to your pleasure. You can feel his pelvis brushing your pulsing clit with every harsh snap of his hips. The carnal sound of his cock slipping in and out of your cunt paired with the slapping of skin is making your velvety walls clamp down on him tighter.
“Fuck, Hannie. Harder! Fuck me harder!” You beg, bucking your hips to match his thrusts.
You’re both panting harshly as you feel the delicious pleasure build steadily. It spreads from your legs and along your spine until it consumes you completely. Jeonghan is quickly becoming obsessed with the sight of you under him, pretty tits bouncing every time he sharply snaps his hips. He spreads your legs to see the erotic sight of your juices frothing at the base of his dick and sliding down his heavy sack.
“Cockhungry angel wants more?” Jeonghan coos, driving his hips deeper so his cock is slamming against your sweet spot, sending your vision white. “You can have more, love. Because this is your cock. All yours.”
His words make you become impossibly tight. Your velvety walls make him choke out a loud moan. It’s almost hard for him to move with how tight your pussy keeps getting. The sight of your cream coating his cock as it disappears into your hot cunt only makes his snap his hips harder, eager to feel you come undone on his dick.
“Mine.” Your babble sounds so possessive yet fucked out that Jeonghan can’t help but moan along with you.
“Yours.” He confirms through his deep groans. “Cock fits inside your little pussy like it was made for you.”
“Hannie!” You cry out, feeling drunk on how his veiny cock drags against your walls. “If you k-keep saying things like that—!”
He smirks, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek—an action too tender for how he’s ravishing you. “What, baby? You’re gonna gush all over me? Cover this cock with your sweet cream?”
His thumb trails down to your aching clit and starts to rub fast circles along the sensitive bud. Jeonghan does this until you break. Your thighs tremble as your gummy walls flutter around his cock. If only you could see the literal heart eyes your boyfriend is staring at you with as your pretty face contorts in pleasure as you fall apart on his cock. He’s never seen a more perfect sight, and he’s sure to commit it to memory as your orgasm spurts all over his cock, marking him with your essence in the most obscene way.
The slam of his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm bordering on too much as you whimper in his arms. Those cute little mewls turn into cries when he keeps going, so drunk in you that he can’t stop. The sound of your moans and the way you suck him in as you cream around his cock makes Jeonghan’s head fall into your neck. His thrusts are turning sloppy as he whimpers gently against your skin.
“I love you.” He pants into your skin, choking on moans as he pumps his cum into your cunt. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Hannie.” You mewl, loving the feeling of his cum filling you up.
You feel the mixture of his release and your slick trailing down the sides of your thighs. It’s so messy that you can’t help but crave more. Jeonghan’s breathing is heavy as he places gentle kisses on your neck. Neither of you can ignore the pulsing of his fat cock still inside you. He fucks his cum into you a bit more before slowly pulling out, enjoying the sight of his thick cum leaking down to your asshole. Your pretty pussy is pulsing as more thick cum squeezes out.
Jeonghan’s massaging a palm on the inside of your sticky thigh to keep your legs spread for his eyes when you say the words that make his cock twitch and ache all over again.
“Keep stuffing me full of cum, baby.”
It’s so easy to slide his cock back into your creamy pussy. You clench tightly as he draws back, then forward again. His thick dick stretches you open so deliciously that you can’t hold back your cries of pleasure. He’s balls deep inside your hot cunt, his pelvis brushing against your aching nub. Your vision goes blurry as he hits so deep. Jeonghan hooks one of your knees over his shoulder so he can slide in deeper.
“I’m going to fill you up. Gonna come in this pretty pussy and fuck you until you can’t take anymore.” Jeonghan groans as you mewl and whimper underneath him.
He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging the nub with his teeth, groping your other tit. You’re already so damn sensitive and arch into his touch. “Ah, Hannie!”
“Mmh.” He groans, releasing the hardened bud with a lewd pop as you clench around him.
Jeonghan starts fucking you slowly, letting you feel every vein along your pulsating walls. From tip to base, he feeds your tight hole like it’s starving. You whimper at the feeling, moans slipping out of you when he picks up speed. The tip of his dick rams into your cervix and makes you see stars. You’re so hot and messy already, your slick and his cum creating a ring around the fat base of his cock.
Dark eyes flicker between your sloppy hole and your fucked out face. Jeonghan can’t decide which is more obscene, but he loves both sights so much. His big cock spreads you wide, a euphoric burn blooming in your little pussy as your juices spill out. The cry you let out makes him kiss you. It’s soft in contrast to his length spearing you open. His tongue slips into your mouth, massaging yours as he swallows your moans.
Jeonghan traces tracing over your stretched hole to your fluttering clit, rubbing in hard circles as you keep crying out for him. He keeps pounding into you, your body moving up the bed with the sheer force.
“So fucking good!” Your mouth falls open in a moan as he rams into your sweet spot, that familiar electricity streaming through your body.
You can feel his pelvic bone pressing against your clit as his dick spears deeper. You’re squirming against your boyfriend, full and cockdrunk as he keeps rubbing his fingers on your clit. The toe-curling orgasm strikes so abruptly that you don’t expect it. Your juices squirt out all over Jeonghan’s length and his pelvis.
His thickness continues to invade your convulsing walls, almost brutally but you take it, gasping as your mind goes foggy.
“Fuck, darling. Keep soaking my cock like that.”
Your tits bounce as he fucks you harder, ramming into your sweet spot. You can’t process anything over the squelching noises and the sounds of your moans. Jeonghan groans, cursing lowly as you squeeze around him, begging for his cum. He grinds sinfully into your spasming cunt until he releases his hot cum into your pussy, filling you to the brim.
In utter pleasure, Jeonghan rocks into you with abandon, spurred on by your cries and your nails digging into his shoulders as his pelvis rubs your humming clit. His warmth spreads within you, leaking out from around his throbbing girth as his hips slow to a stop. You soften to quiet whimpers when he lets go of your leg, nuzzling into his neck in a daze.
Neither of you move, too lost in the feeling of each other’s arms to care about anything else.
