#It's similar to a dance with a lover - even if one of you ends up dead. This is specific to close one on one combat I think. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sanakiras · 5 months

Text

BLOOM FOR ME

PAIRING — finance major!mingyu x law major!reader

WORD COUNT — 18.1k

SYNOPSIS — even though you and mingyu share the same friends, there’s a clear distance between you. when you make a drunken mistake, he suddenly becomes increasingly aware of your lack of a relationship with him, and he takes on the challenge of changing it — not expecting to fall for the ice princess who turns out to be less cold than he thought.

TAGS — college au, slice of life, strangers to fwb to lovers, angst, fem!reader, slowburn-ish, rollercoaster of somewhat unrealistic events, minor use of the fake dating trope, not proofread, explicit sexual content, inexpressive!reader, fear of intimacy, once again a fic that seemed better in my head than the finished product but idc!

♪ — pearly drops - bloom for me,, kid cudi - kitchen,, the fugees & ms lauryn hill - killing me softly with his song

NOTE — sooo this fic is pure self-indulgence because i wrote mc as a character very similar to myself! some of these scenes are based on my own experiences :D my personality type is intj which i incorporated a lot here, do with that what you will x

you and kim mingyu just don't work.

to be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who didn’t like him or get along with him. most people on campus either wanna be him or be with him — which makes sense, ‘cause he seems to have it all. he’s smart, talented, and awfully good-looking.

and in hindsight, you have no clue as to how or why you landed in his little clique a few months ago, which is composed of a bunch of guys who appear to have very little in common.

all you remember is how joshua, a pre-med student with a soft voice and a passion for playing guitar, introduced himself to you as you were both assigned to help out with student orientation week at the start of the new academic year, and the rest became history.

you’re not sure how he managed to wiggle his way into your personal life, or why he seems so goddamn keen to be there for that matter. the same goes for his friends — chan, seungcheol, soonyoung, minghao, seokmin and mingyu. you’re closest to joshua and seokmin, though you get along well with most of the group.

soonyoung is pursuing performing arts, and he’s loud — extremely loud. you like his sense of humor though. chan does theatre and has mentioned he wants to have his own dance studio later in life. seokmin also does theatre and is arguably the biggest ray of sunshine you’ve ever met. cheol is a business administration major, a great debater, has quite the fire in him, and he looks great in a suit. minghao is more reserved — a psychology major. very sweet and polite, likes to meditate and is surprisingly good at martial arts as well.

and then there’s mingyu.

he studies finance, though he’s considerably less obnoxious than most of the students who pursue said degree. from what you’ve gathered, he has quite the range of talents, which, in all fairness, is pretty impressive.

the guy might as well be the complete opposite of you. he’s popular, loud, outgoing, smiles a lot, known to have a real heart of gold. an entertainer.

you find yourself at the other end of the spectrum. much more on the quiet side, usually only speaking up if you deem it necessary with a sarcastic quip, more often skipping social gatherings than actually attending them.

yet in spite of your closed-off nature, the majority of people closest to you are extroverted, always trying to pull you with them in their adventures, though remaining respectful and understanding when you don’t come with — because that’s just the way you are.

perhaps that’s the sole reason why your relationship with mingyu can easily be described in a single word.

non-existent.

neither of you have anything against each other — it’s just that, out of the group, you seem to have the least of a connection with him. you certainly never do anything together or talk to one another when you’re not with the rest of the guys, and even during the moments you are, saying you’ve had a proper conversation with him would be an overstatement.

for the most part, aside from saying one-worded greetings and goodbyes, you pretty much just disregard the other’s existence.

or, well — that used to be the case.

because there’s this dirty secret the friend group doesn’t know about — and that’s that you and mingyu slept together.

it happened only a few weeks ago. it was supposed to be a simple, fun night dancing and letting loose at soonyoung’s party, which he hosted right after midterms were over. everyone got drunk, including you — way more drunk than usual, it was terrible — and the only thing you remember is waking up in a room you’d never seen before, a bed that definitely didn’t feel like the one you wake up in every morning, your clothes discarded on the floor, and his warm body next to yours.

had you been even the slightest bit sober back then, you absolutely wouldn’t have gotten into bed with him.

it’s not that you don’t find him attractive. on the contrary. he’s sex on a stick, with his strong arms, small waist, sharp jawline and beautiful tan skin — it’s no surprise he’s done several modeling jobs for some extra cash.

but despite all of that, casual hook-ups with people in your circle are not your thing. they’re not his either.

neither of you remember much of that night. you two are rarely ever alone together, so it’s practically been impossible to talk to you about it, and you’ve never been close enough with one another to even text or meet up.

after the incident, you just continued living your life like everything was the same as before. honestly, for the most part, it was.

but mingyu likes to take risks in life. that, and being open about his feelings is just who he is. so he wants to talk to you, privately.

when he finally does manage to catch you alone, which happens to be right after you’ve walked out of your criminal law class, you’re not exactly welcoming to him.

“what are you doing at the other side of campus?” is all you greet him with.

“i’m good, thank you for asking.” he jokes in an attempt to make things more light-hearted, but you don’t pull a single muscle, face remaining the exact same, so he swallows and clutches the strap of his shoulder bag a little tighter. “i, uh... i felt like we should talk about what happened the other night. soonyoung’s party.”

“what’s there to talk about?”

“what we did. together.”

“we fucked. so what?”

oh. that’s a much more blunt response than he expected, even if he is used to those kind of remarks from you.

“well—” he cuts himself off, really cursing himself for not properly thinking of what to say to you before showing up outside of your lecture hall all of a sudden, “don’t you think it’s something we gotta discuss?”

“you want a professional analysis about how much i enjoyed it or something?” you ask with a furrowed brow. “not that i’d be able to give you one, considering it was all just a blur.”

“yeah, i can’t exactly remember much of it either. look, i... i don’t usually hook up with people i’m friends with—”

“except we’re not friends. i don’t think you’ve ever said as much to me as you have in this conversation.”

even though it’s true, it does feel like a slap across the face for a reason he can’t pinpoint. he’s aware you can be blunt sometimes, but this is more than people usually get out of you.

“fine. we’re just acquaintances. but we do share the same friends.” he says after a moment of awkward silence, his tone sounding a little colder than before, subconsciously trying to compensate for your unwelcoming attitude. “doesn’t that matter to you?”

sucking at the inside of your cheek, you sigh. “did your roommate notice me?”

his roommate being jeon wonwoo, the cute computer science major who likes to spend his free time working out and playing video games, always walking around campus with headphones stuck in his ears and a pair of glasses up on his nose. he and mingyu are both on the football team, you’re pretty sure.

“no. he didn’t see a thing. not as far as i know, anyway.”

“good. so that means we can both just pretend it never happened, yeah?” the smile you put on your face is so painfully fake that it makes him clench his jaw.

“yeah.” he mumbles bitterly, and you move away from him, going down the stairs, and mingyu rests his head against the wall, huffing in annoyance and embarrassment.

to be completely honest, he’s not sure why the whole ordeal bothers him so much. what you said was all true, even if you could’ve worded it differently.

many, many questions pop up in his mind. do you have something against him? do you not like him? if that’s the case, why? has he ever said something that caused you to get a bad impression of him? what do his friends have that he doesn’t, aside from considerably shorter legs?

he’s not sure what it is about you he finds so weirdly intriguing, but whatever it is, he’s discovered a fresh determination in him to find out.

mingyu is unsure of how to handle the situation with you. every time you look at him, all he sees is utter disinterest, though there’s very little he can make out of your facial expressions in the first place.

he finds himself seated at a table in the library with minghao, seungcheol and chan, pondering over the exam he’s got coming up at the end of the week, said thoughts coming to a halt once he spots you at the other side of the hall.

his gaze involuntarily follows you as you appear to be scanning a few bookshelves.

if he’s being honest, he’d already noticed you before the drunk-sex incident. he always thought you were pretty, and based on your your vocabulary and the way you spoke, he figured you were intelligent as well, so he silently admired you from afar.

and now, those feelings have only increased.

his eyes linger on your figure. it’s such a fucking shame he doesn’t remember his hands on your skin, the touch of your lips — he could actually cry just imagining it.

then he feels he’s getting too far in the sexual innuendos in his head, so he tells himself to stop right the hell now before his excitement starts to show in his pants.

god, he’s never like this. why is it irking him so much?

it’s chan — the youngest of the group — who grabs your attention, beckoning for you to come over to the table.

when you move to sit down on the empty chair between him and seungcheol, they begin to talk about how the shitty assignments they’re working on are so not worth their time, how one of cheol’s professors didn’t bother showing up for his lecture yesterday morning, and minghao mentions something about a new group project of his—

—and the whole fucking time, you feel mingyu’s gaze burning on you.

it both confuses and intrigues you. what the hell does he want now?

then when two of the boys get into a discussion, you stare right back at him, almost as if to tell him you’re aware of him watching you and you’re watching him as well, and a very thick yet silent tension rises between you.

he swears he catches the smallest glimpse of amusement in your features before you get up and tell them you’ve got to go to your lecture.

cheol raises his thick brow at his friend. “you’re uncharacteristically quiet.”

mingyu shrugs as he watches you walk out of the hall. “yeah, sorry. been a little preoccupied.”

“i can tell, ‘cause aren’t you supposed to be starting football practice right now?”

that snaps him out of it. he checks the silver watch sitting on his wrist, cursing to himself before grabbing his things and hastily throwing them into his bag before sprinting to his dorm.

the following day, as he’s working on his assignment, he decides to take out his phone, typing your username into the search bar on instagram.

your social media profile is as mysterious as you are. zero posts, some pretty aesthetic pictures found in your highlights as well as one or two with you on it, though blurry or with your face partially hidden.

it’s usually much easier for him to get close to people, yet with this, with you — it feels like the way is blocked, and he doesn’t know where to start.

tapping his finger on the table, he tells himself to make some kind of conversation with you the next time he sees you.

which is several days later, when the friend group is meeting up at a restaurant for dinner and drinks.

by the time he arrives — later than planned due to a study session running behind — everyone is already seated, including you. he’d hoped to secure a spot next to you for once, but you’re seated between joshua and seungcheol instead. the only vacant spot is at the other side of the table.

well, shit.

the worst thing is that you don’t seem to spare him a single glance. every time he looks your way, you’re either zoned out or intently listening to the boys around you as they tell their stories, with you throwing in a sarcastic little quip every now and then, making them laugh.

what he doesn’t notice is that you do look at him — he’d be surprised by the amount of times your eyes wander back to him, subtly observing him from a distance when he rambles about something his professor did during class or what went down during football practice.

he’s so handsome that it almost gets annoying to look at him.

it’s an hour before midnight when you decide to get going — you have an unnecessarily early class tomorrow and still gotta get back to your dorm. so you grab your coat and bag, announcing you’re leaving, after which they say they don’t like the idea of you going back on your own, but you refute it and tell them you’ll be fine like always.

“i can take you. i just remembered i gotta catch up with some things anyways before class tomorrow.”

mingyu’s sudden statement makes you blink at him a few times.

it’s not that he’s never offered to take you home before, ever the gentleman, but the situation always ends up with you either going home on your own with them keeping an eye on your location or one of the other guys taking you back, so his sudden eagerness to escort you to your dorm catches you by surprise.

it’s mainly joshua and minghao who catch onto your slight change in demeanor, but their puzzled looks are gone as soon as they came. they’ve had quite a few drinks, after all, and you’re pretty sure soonyoung is so drunk he’s on the verge of tears at the other side of the table, distracting them.

both you and mingyu say your goodbyes to the rest of the group before exiting the restaurant, embracing the fresh air outside.

it’s early october, your favorite time of year. you’re fond of the cloudy skies, the temperature right between warm and cold, and the leaves changing colors.

mingyu walks next to you on the sidewalk, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark denim jacket.

“i’m sorry for being rude the other day,” you speak up, breaking the silence, “i have a habit of being too straightforward for my own good.”

oh.

he didn’t expect this from you, but it’s a pleasant surprise, even if you’re not looking him in the eye at all.

so he shrugs. “it’s okay. looking back, i didn’t really know where i wanted the conversation to go, anyways.”

“i assumed you were just gonna ask me to keep it between us.”

“i didn’t even think about that, to be honest. i just don’t do stuff like that with friends, so... i guess i was just curious about your thoughts or something.”

you bare your teeth in a bitter smile, still refraining from looking in his direction when he’s clearly looking at your face. “you called me your friend again.”

the comment doesn’t sit right with him. “do you mind me asking why that bothers you?”

“it bothers me ‘cause it’s not the truth.”

god, you certainly do not sugarcoat things.

“do you... is there anything i did to make you dislike me?”

mingyu watches the way you clench your jaw at his question. it intrigues him. “i never said i disliked you, mingyu. i’m just picky about who i consider close to me and i don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression. sharing friends doesn’t make us friends.”

“not even a little bit?”

you chuckle again. he wonders what he’d have to do to elicit a real, genuine laugh from you. “name one of my hobbies. something i like to do in my spare time. the basics don’t count.”

he eagerly starts his sentence. “well, you like to... y’know... hang out with us.”

“i said no basics.”

“okay. fine. you got me. but, to be fair, you also gotta admit you don’t exactly share much.”

“you know who i do share things with? my friends.” you tease him, after which he laughs. you like the sound of his laugh.

“you’re evil.”

“thank you.”

he turns around, walking backwards in front of you so he can face you, finally getting the eye contact he’s been waiting to get. “i wanna be friends.”

“congratulations.”

“oh, c’mon. work with me here.”

“i would if it wasn’t so much fun to see you acting like this.”

mingyu feels a certain excitement rushing through his body when he sees how you look at him. “let’s get to know each other better. how about twenty questions?”

“oh, you mean like a conversation?”

he chooses to ignore your sarcasm for now. “i’ll go first. what’s a hobby of yours?”

“such depth,” you snicker, “i like to ice skate.”

“really? that’s cool.” he smiles, tilting his head. “okay. you gotta ask me a question now.”

“which of your friends is closest to you?”

yeah, he should��ve seen something like that coming. of course you wouldn’t go for small talk.

he ponders over the question before giving his answer. “minghao.”

“hm. interesting.” you just hum, clearly having no intention of explaining it, so you gesture for him to come up with another question.

“do you think you’ll ever be close with me?”

“no.”

“why?”

“not your turn.” you tell him, simultaneously trying to find out how far you can take this. “how many girls have you slept with?”

“four. why do you think we won’t ever be close friends?”

“because we’re too different. you can’t stand the fact that i give nothing away, i can sense it a mile from here.”

“it’s not that.”

“what is it then?”

“i’m… i don’t know, a people person. i want to get along with everyone, want everyone i like to like me. maybe that’s selfish, but… yeah. i like you and i wanna be your friend. it bothers me that you don’t.” he feels the words suddenly tumbling out of his mouth are taking the conversation elsewhere, so he tries his best to not come across as too intense. “i’m sorry for pestering you about it, i’ll just... walk you to your dorm and leave you be.”

he wants to increase the distance between you, but you don’t let him. your hand moves to his upper arm, touching him, but it’s gone before he can even look at it.

physical touch has never been one of your strong points, despite craving it at the same time. “i’m gonna say it one more time and that’s it — i don’t dislike you. maybe… i don’t know, maybe we could have a strong friendship, who knows. if you wanna prove me wrong, be my guest. i won’t stop you.”

“okay. anything i should know?”

you pout your lips as you think of things to mention. “i’m not a huge fan of texting. i prefer calling or meeting up in person. i’m more of a listener than a talker. i’m also a bit of a control freak so i’m not big on surprises. that’s all you’re getting for now.”

he thinks over your words and smiles. “i can work with that.”

not much later, you arrive at the university campus, and you use your card to enter your building, walking out front.

mingyu clearly feels it’s mandatory to follow you all the way to your door.

once you’ve arrived at your dorm, you lean against the doorpost. “thanks for taking me home.”

“you’re welcome. see you tomorrow.” he says. normally he’d give his friends something like a hug when saying goodbye like this, but he has a gut feeling you’re not very fond of physical contact with people who aren’t close to you, so he lets that go for now.

“bye.” the playful smile is audible in your voice before you close your door, and mingyu leaves your building with a sickeningly nice feeling in his stomach.

and he remains on your mind, especially once you watch him walk towards his own dorm from behind the window, unaware of your gaze.

it makes you scoff to yourself. you’ll give it to him — he’s sparked your interest.

“hey. mingyu.”

he’s roughly pulled from observing you in his secure spot in the university library by jeonghan, his partner for a project he’s working on. “what?”

“what’s going on? you’re awfully distracted.”

“it’s—nothing.” he responds, voice an octave higher. maybe he should quit this habit of looking at you every time he comes here.

“has anyone ever told you you’re a shitty liar?”

“many times, actually.”

“good. ‘cause you are.”

jeonghan is shorter than he is, with more of a lanky physique and slightly longer hair. he’s also the most annoying little shit mingyu knows — despite the guy being older than him — because he somehow. knows. everything. all the time. he knows things about mingyu before he knows them himself. if anything, it’s a talent.

“so who’s the girl?” jeonghan then asks in a more hushed tone, using his pencil to point at the girl in question.

mingyu looks in your direction again, taking notice of how nice you look today, and he just gives in to his friend, not even bothering to try and act stupid. “friend of a friend.”

“what does she do?”

“law.”

“she nice?”

“to a specific group of people, yeah.”

“oh, she’s a little mean to you, huh?”

“not mean. just distant. very distant.”

“that’s new.”

“what is?”

“you going for girls like that. it’s refreshing.”

“yeah, well—she doesn’t go for guys like me.”

“what do you mean?”

“i’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me at all. she’s wildly unimpressed by my presence, anyway.”

“how do you know?”

mingyu sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “she’s very close with joshua and seokmin, likes the rest of the guys too, but me… i don’t know. we’ve been in the same friend group for a year, and it’s like i’m the only one she doesn’t feel comfortable with. bothers me.”

“you’ve known her for a whole year and it’s only bothering you now?” jeonghan senses there’s more going on. “what led up to this? got into an argument?”

the younger of the two scoffs. “not at all. the contrary, actually.”

jeonghan jokingly throws in the first thing he can think of. “what, did you accidentally kiss her when you were drunk or something?”

“not entirely. we were both drunk, for starters.” mingyu comments, the next sentence muttered much more quietly. “and we had sex.”

a scoff of surprise leaves jeonghan’s mouth. “you slept together? when?”

“soonyoung’s party.”

“that was weeks ago. haven’t you talked about it? at all?” he asks, clearly invested in the story now.

“i brought it up, she brushed it off and said it meant nothing. told her i wanted to be friends with her a couple days later, but she said she doesn’t think we’ll ever be good friends ‘cause we’re too different, and it’s fucking killing me for some reason. she still said she was… open to friendship though.”

“ah, you like her.”

“yeah, obviously. problem is that she hates me.”

“no, i mean, you like her. you don’t just want to be her friend.”

mingyu is somewhat taken aback by his words. “i don’t have a crush.”

“don’t fool yourself. you’d never get this worked up over someone not wanting to be friends with you — you’re worked up because you wanna get to know her better and she doesn’t seem like she wants to get to know you at all.”

“i can’t be in love with someone i hardly know.”

“debatable. you still have a crush on her.”

“fine. whatever. say that were the case — purely hypothetical of course — what should i do to get her attention?”

jeonghan has that knowing smile on his face, the one that makes him look like he’s up to no good. “you gotta get a little selfish.”

“could you be a little less vague for once in your life?”

“create a circumstance where she spends time with you without it being planned.” he shrugs, as if that answers it. “something like getting stuck in an elevator for a few hours. you know what i mean.”

“well, unless you were planning on hijacking the elevator somehow, i don’t think i have all that many options.”

right there and then, the two recognize another student from their statistics class sitting a few tables further. she’s giggling to her friends about something, hesitantly looking their way, pointing at them.

“speaking of crushes, she’s got one on you.” jeonghan mentions, raising his brow.

it doesn’t interest mingyu all that much. “yeah, she asked me out a while back. i told her i was busy. didn’t have the heart to flat-out reject her. in hindsight, maybe i should’ve, ‘cause she acts like that every time i see her around.”

jeonghan can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity currently presenting itself like a fucking birthday cake. “are you thinking what i’m thinking?”

“probably not, since i have no idea what you’re getting at.”

he leans a bit closer to his taller friend, speaking in a more hushed tone this time. “you could reject her — subtly.”

mingyu frowns at that. “how?”

and jeonghan smirks a little to himself before he’s about to tell him his plan. “you’ve heard of fake dating before, right?”

the following day, you find yourself in the library of the law faculty, reviewing the slides of the lecture you didn’t feel like attending this morning.

someone drops their bag ever-so-subtly on the table at the empty spot next to you, and when you look up from your notes, you recognize your dearest acquaintance.

you huff, removing one of your earbuds to engage in the conversation you didn’t ask for. “what do you want?”

“you have got to stop saying that when you see me.”

“no, i like it this way.”

“of course you do.” mingyu merely scoffs at your words, sitting down next to you. “you look busy.”

“gee. it’s almost as if i am busy.”

“what’re you working on?”

“undoubtedly nothing you have any knowledge of.”

he rolls his eyes when you grin at him, clearly ready to dodge his questions with more of your sarcastic comments.

“are you always this much on edge?”

“mhm. i hope you are too — otherwise you’re taking up too much space.”

the comment has him frowning at first, and then he gets it, making him let out a vaguely impressed scoff. “you’re cute.”

“not exactly the word i would use.”

“really?” he says, taking the cap off his water bottle, “i think it suits you.”

you squint your eyes at him, finally taking the bait. “what do you want? seriously.”

he shifts in his seat, clearly happy you’re finally going along with him here. “you know the senior gala on thursday, right?”

“yeah. i’m not attending.”

“okay. here’s the thing — i kind of have this girl in one of my classes who won’t stop bothering me about going out on a date with her and stuff.”

“gosh, poor you.”

“i’m serious. it sucks.”

“what does this have to do with you bothering me?”

“well, i figured if she finally saw me with someone else, she’d back off.” he explains, leaning a bit closer to you. “meaning i need a plus-one who’s willing to play my girlfriend for the night.”

“so?”

“so, i’d like you to be my plus-one.” he grins.

“why?”

“why not?”

“you’re saying you wanna pretend to be dating?” you ask, and when he nods, you shake your head. “no one’s gonna believe that.”

“yeah, they will. it’s perfect. same friend group, completely different majors so she probably doesn’t know you — c’mon, consider it.”

he’s surprisingly convincing, as if he already knows how to crack your demeanor. you remain stubborn, though. “out of all the girls you’ve got in your contacts, you’re asking me?”

“you’ve made it clear we’re only acquaintances — i wanna change that. become friends. just like i told you.”

you finally lock eyes with him again, taking your pen away from the paper, refusing to back down once you notice how close he is. “i don’t know what you’re expecting, but you’d get nothing out of a friendship with me.”

he keeps his eyes on yours. “i’ll be the judge of that.”

when you roll your eyes at him, he can tell you’re considering it. “when does it start?”

“ten.”

“dress code?”

“go for a cocktail dress.”

twisting your lips, you push your tongue against the inside of your cheek, and even you are a little weak for those big, brown eyes of his. and you said you’d give him a chance, after all. “fine.”

“great!” he nearly jumps in excitement. “text me when you’re ready and i’ll come and pick you up.”

“yeah, yeah. now go. i got shit to do.”

and once you’ve watched him cheerfully skip out of your sight, the tiniest smile rises to your face, after which you chuckle to yourself.

mere days later, on thursday, mingyu finds himself at your doorstep. it’s not like him to feel nervous — so why the hell is he this time?

you open the door hastily. “hey. you can come on in, i’m all ready except for the pair of earrings i can’t seem to find.”

he watches as you search through small drawers in the cupboard by the wall. maybe he should be glad you’ve got your back faced to him, because he’s subconsciously staring at you, checking you out.

the velvet red one-shoulder dress hugs your features just right, and he’s stunned in his place before you notice he still hasn’t closed the door behind him. “mingyu. the door.”

“uh—yeah. sorry.” he stumbles, stepping inside, doing as he’s told before his eyes wander around your room. “don’t you have a roommate?”

“i used to have one, in my first year. got a single room after.”

“must get quiet after a while.”

“i like it that way.”

your words remind you of his roommate, wonwoo. he figures you’re someone who prefers solitude after a day of being around others, which he keeps in mind.

once you’ve found your earrings, you’re putting them in, and you notice him stepping closer to you. he actually looks criminally good in the black suit he’s wearing, his half-long hair sitting just right. the fucker might as well be a real-life prince charming.

you’re glad you went with smokey eyes. your look compliments his.

as you subtly watch him in the mirror, he comes to stand behind you, holding out the modest bouquet of red roses he’s been holding behind his back. “these are for you. i appreciate that you wanted to come with me tonight.”

the gesture makes your eyes soften. “thank you. oh, they smell nice.”

mingyu feels a little giddy inside when you give him a little smile before putting the flowers in a vase with water. it might be the first time he’s seen you give one that is genuine.

the gala is taking place at a fancy hotel close to university. the walk there only takes a few minutes. once you're nearing the entrance to the party, dimly lit chandeliers catching your eye, he gently puts his hand on your back, just underneath your shoulder blades. you raise a brow, looking over at him, and he shrugs. “i’m your fake boyfriend for the night, remember?”

which has you chortling for a second. “that’s not where to put your hands if you wanna make this believable.”

before he can change the position of his hand, you’re already doing it for him, pushing his hand lower with yours, watching the way his face drops when you allow him to go lower than your hips, breath hitching in his throat.

“that’s better. you can hold me and kiss me on the cheek if you have to. not too much, it’s not the right time and place for it anyways.”

“noted.”

once you’ve arrived inside and given your coats away, you notice most people here are strangers to you, anxiety kicking in, internally wishing you’d consumed some alcohol before coming.

and your companion takes notice of this from the way you’re suddenly squeezing his hand, which you’re undoubtedly not doing on purpose.

“you okay?”

“sure, i’m fine.” you faintly smile back at him.

he’s honestly considering saying fuck it, ready to ask you to just get out of here with him and go anywhere else instead — that is until one of your friends comes up to you.

“am i imagining things—”

“we’re fake dating, josh.” you answer him, increasing the distance between you and mingyu as if to emphasize your point. “his idea, not mine.”

joshua appears all kinds of confused. “okay. um… just—why?”

mingyu presses his lips together. what he said about the girl bothering him was all true. could he handle it on his own? probably. is fake dating slightly unnecessary and a little dramatic of a solution? undoubtedly.

but he just wanted you as his plus-one so bad. he saw it as an opportunity he couldn’t miss out on.

what can he say? jeonghan is weirdly persuasive.

“there’s this classmate of mine who won’t get off my back about dating, so i figured she’d quit if i showed up with a girlfriend. girlfriend being her.”

in spite of the explanation, joshua still looks at the two of you with a frown. “right.”

“i’m gonna go get us a drink. be right back.” mingyu says, almost regretting doing so when he realizes he has to take his hand off your back.

you watch him walk off to the bar, suddenly hearing your best friend chuckle softly next to you. “can’t believe i never considered you two before.”

“what are you talking about?”

“you and him. you’d be a nice match.”

“what, me and mingyu? we’d be a disaster.”

“why?”

“we’re too different, josh. and don’t even try to give me that opposites attract crap.”

his soft facial features melt into a smile that gives off the impression he knows something you don’t. “i think you’d be surprised. that’s all.”

whatever the fuck that means.

your fake boyfriend returns not much later with a drink for the two of you. despite your clear disagreement with joshua’s words, you just can’t help but think about what he said, especially when mingyu’s arm remains looped around your waist for quite a while as the three of you discuss the whereabouts of your friends.

the worst thing is that you don’t even mind him touching you. you’ve always been picky when it comes to the people who are allowed to as much as stand close to you, and mingyu was not one of those people until you grabbed his wrist after he took you home from dinner, which was only last week.

and that’s not the only thing you’re becoming increasingly aware of.

mingyu’s popularity is a bigger thing than you thought. either that, or half the people here are from his faculty. which is highly unlikely.

being as observant as you are, you’ve noticed several girls as well as guys pointing your way, making you feel uneasy.

so your hold on him tightens as you stare back at them, as if to silently tell them to fuck off and focus on someone other than your fake boyfriend.

you’re not actually jealous. no, that’d be ridiculous. you can’t be jealous of others wanting something you don’t even have in the first place.

chan and seokmin arrive half an hour later, having pretty much the same reaction to the situation as shua. but they play along.

though not without noticing how comfortable the two of you are together.

after several hours of drinking, dancing and socializing, you feel in need of a break. “hey, i’m just gonna get some fresh air outside, okay?”

mingyu’s lashes flutter as he nods. “would you mind if i came with?”

you gesture that you’re okay with it, so he takes your hand to guide you through the mass of people without losing you, the littlest of touches sparking an indescribable feeling in your stomach.

the air feels much colder now that you’ve been inside the warm hotel for several hours. you sigh, leaning back against the brick wall behind you, the surface feeling slightly uncomfortable on your one uncovered shoulderblade.

mingyu takes fake dating very seriously, as it seems. he’s practically been unable to keep his hands off you, and you’re going to indulge in it for however long it lasts.

as you’re standing outside together, you notice he’s loosened up more around you, not hesitant to get close either. he’s certainly not afraid to put his hand on your thigh, and you make zero effort to push him away.

his lips ghost by the skin of your neck, alcohol clouding his thoughts. “it’s nice to have you here. i wasn’t all that excited about going at first.”

“yeah, yeah. i made your night ten times better.”

he snickers. “you hear that often?”

“every now and then. don’t sound so surprised.”

“it doesn’t surprise me. i was just hoping i was special compared to the others.”

“doesn’t everyone?”

“you’re a little cryptic, anyone ever told you that?”

“maybe.” you respond, chuckling, allowing his lips to touch your bare skin.

mingyu bites his lower lip, not afraid to look you in the eye to match your playful gaze with a similar one. “do you not remember a single thing from the night of soonyoung’s party?”

he almost smacks himself for asking the question, seeing your expression falter a little. “no. neither do you, as you’ve told me.”

“no, i don’t,” he says firmly, mentally trying to slap himself for consuming so much alcohol that it makes him say things he usually wouldn’t, “but i kinda wish i did.”

“why?”

when he remains quiet, still trying to figure out the best way to respond, you gently take a hold of his chin to lift it up, making sure he keeps his eyes on yours. playing with him is fun.

“i...” he tries to utter the words, but god, he might as well be hypnotized.

before he can give his answer, seokmin loudly stumbles out of the building, catching your attention. he’s clearly had a bit too much to drink, his boisterous laughter echoing through the courtyard. seungcheol follows closely behind, a hand on his shoulder.

whatever moment you and mingyu were having is gone in an instant. cheol spots you, keeping his friend somewhat upright in the process.

“i’m gonna go take him home, couldn’t find the other guys. i think soonyoung might be next, though.” he says, doing his best to keep seokmin upright in the process.

so mingyu nods. “okay. i’ll go check.”

they say their goodbyes, after which he proceeds to looks at you again. you let your head rest against the wall again. “you go ahead. i’ll meet you back inside in a few.”

he silently agrees, returning to the people inside. you appreciate the silence, mentally drowning out the sound of people talking and cars driving into the background.

it’s then that some girl you’ve never seen before walks up to you. “hey. you’re mingyu’s new girlfriend, right?”

the crease between your brows becomes apparent. “have we met?”

“no, no. i’m in the same faculty as him. i was just curious. didn’t know he was dating anyone.”

she’s clearly had a bit to drink, though not enough for her speech to be incoherent. you’re not sure what to give her other than an awkward smile that looks anything but genuine.

but either she’s too far gone to catch the hint or she simply doesn’t want to. “was kinda surprised to see him end up with a girl like you.”

and since she’s probably not gonna remember this conversation tomorrow, you decide to engage in it for once. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know, ‘s just... you seem a little distant. just different. he’s never really gone for someone like you. no offense or anything.”

you keep your composure despite a certain emotion brewing hot inside you, whatever the hell it may be. the sheer audacity of some people to stick their nose in business that’s not their own. “gee. hard to fathom i landed a guy like that, huh?”

the sarcasm dripping from your tongue finally seems to get it through to her that her opinion is anything but wanted, so she mumbles something about going back inside, after which you lean back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment.

worst thing is that she’s probably right.

you and mingyu just don’t work.

and you don’t even have feelings for the guy, so why does it bother you?

the whole thing upsets you enough for you to go back inside, rushing to find him to tell him that you don’t feel like staying.

when you return to him, he’s so used to his role that his hand finds your waist and his lips touch your cheek, but you smoothly back away this time. “i’m gonna go back to my dorm. you guys have fun.”

even over the noisy music and chatter in the background, he notices the change in your tone and behavior, which gives him the hint that something has upset you. “why? is everything okay?”

“i’m fine.”

“i’ll take you back.”

“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t.” you tell him, sounding harsher than intended. again. god, you keep messing up. you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose for a moment. “i’m sorry.”

mingyu is still processing your words as you’re leaving him behind.

then when you’re walking towards the exit, a girl accidentally bumps into you, spilling her drink over your dress.

goddamn. you wonder what the fuck you did to the universe for it to give you a night as shitty as this.

she begins to profusely apologize, very obviously sincere, but you just curtly tell her it’s fine, annoyance rising.

mingyu notices the situation from afar, deciding to go after you when he sees you walk to the bathroom instead of the exit.

the bathroom is awfully fancy, but it seems only fair for a hotel like this. clenching your jaw, you grumble while getting some paper towels, hiking the dress just a bit upwards.

god, you’re never agreeing to do that fake dating shit ever again. what a joke.

you huff as you keep trying to get the now barely visible stain out of your dress. you’re rubbing over the fabric on your thigh when someone walks in.

of course it’s him.

“any luck getting it out?” he asks, and you clench your jaw, throwing the wet paper towels into the trashcan beside the sink. your hands hold onto the cold surface, knuckles growing white as you focus on them instead of him.

“why am i here?”

“what do you mean?”

you turn your gaze to him, abandoning your quest of getting the stain out of your dress, annoyed that he’s acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “why did you invite me here? out of everyone you could’ve gone with, why did you wanna go with me?”

“are you angry at me?”

“answer the question.”

“i just…” he trails off, trying to think of the right words. “i just figured it was a way to become friends.”

you’re actually going to lose your shit if he as much as utters the word ‘friend’ to you one more time. “oh, jesus. cut the bullshit. why do you wanna be friends with me so badly?”

“i don’t know, because… because it occurred to me — y’know, after the party, after what we did — that we have little to no relationship and i wanted to change that.”

“oh, right. you just had to sleep with me before thinking of that.”

“no, i didn’t. i just haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night, and i—”

what the hell is he even supposed to say? he’s not even sure what exactly it is he wants from you. sure, he wants to be friends — but god, he spends so much time wishing he remembered what it was like to touch you that night, what you looked like underneath your pretty little dress, what you sounded like.

you’re quiet for a second before your whole demeanor changes, agitation shifting to intrigue. “so that’s what this is about.”

“well—what?”

“if you wanted to fuck, you should’ve just said that. instead of dragging me to this shit.”

“i—” he suddenly feels suffocated by the small size of the room and your body getting closer to his, backing him up against the door. “that’s not why i—”

“does it matter?” you ask, and he tries to hide his ragged breathing now that you’ve pressed your front against him, clenching his jaw.

it doesn’t help that you’re watching him like a hawk.

“not to repeat myself all the time, but i—i normally don’t do this with friends. i don’t want you to have the wrong idea of me.” he exclaims, cursing himself for looking down at the way your red dress is accentuating your curves so well.

so you begin to unbutton his shirt, and he breathes heavily because of it. “well, i guess you’re in luck. ‘cause we’re not friends.”

he’s about to tell you that he genuinely wants to be when you finally kiss him. it’s fast and intense and hungry.

whatever he expected, it wasn’t this — but he can’t find it in him to not give in.

his hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you closer, then proceeding to help you with unbuttoning his shirt, all without breaking the kiss.

mingyu shivers when your cold hands finally touch his bare chest, the faintest hint of your sharp nails nearly making him beg for you to dig them into his skin until he bleeds.

there’s a shift in control when his feet no longer feel locked in with the tiled floor, his hands trailing up your legs, fingers gripping the skin of your thighs. he lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, only to have him pushing you up against the door, pressing his body against yours.

you’re rubbing your front against him, taking notice of the hard bulge in his pants, nearly crying out from his sheer size.

holy shit. no wonder you were sore after you slept with him — he’s fucking huge.

“gyu,” you break the kiss, “can i suck you off?”

the way you breathily call him by his nickname for the first time is nearly enough for him to bust in his pants. “wanna taste you instead. please?”

with your back resting against the surface behind you, you watch him as he sinks to his knees, kissing the inside of your legs, goosebumps erupting on your skin.

“are you sure?”

“yeah. please let me.”

“okay. just make it quick.”

in hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

because he’s diving in faster than you can comprehend, lace panties pulled down in less than a second, making you gasp in surprise. your fingers grab onto a few strands of his hair, accidentally tugging on them, only to have him moaning in response, which is most likely the best thing you’ve ever heard.

your teeth sink into your lower lip as a way to suppress your moans, only deeps hums and groans escaping you, much to mingyu’s annoyance, because he wants to hear you.

his fingers slide into your dripping wetness, your muscles tightening up from the sudden intrusion. he looks up at you while kissing the inside of your leg, a sight that’s so fucking hot that you have to tell yourself not to get lost in it.

another surge of adrenaline rushes through you when he spreads your legs even wider, causing you to let out a broken moan, much to his satisfaction.

“you can pull on my hair. i like that.” he breathes out with a genuine smile and lust-blown eyes, refusing to wait for your reaction and getting right back to what he was doing.

it doesn’t take him long before he’s got you squirming above him. tugging his hair really does get him going, but you’re nearly at your limit, feeling the familiar feeling building up in your lower belly.

“gyu—fuck, ‘s too much, too much—” you try to push his wrist away and make him look up at you again.

you swear you might lose it when you see he’s actually pouting over the fact that you’re pulling him away from something he clearly enjoys doing.

“but, baby, i wanna make you cum.”

the pet name turns you on even more. “you can. i just want you inside of me, right now.”

he’s rising to his feet, towering over you with his tall frame as you push him back against the door, kissing his jaw, neck and collarbone while undoing the buttons of his white shirt.

mingyu is surprisingly vocal, which you thoroughly enjoy. his lips find yours again, relishing in the remaining taste of you on his tongue.

“god—want me to fuck you?”

pulling your dress over your head, you’re left in your matching set of lingerie that you just so conveniently put on tonight. “are you seriously asking me that right now?”

“fine. bend over the sink, then.”

the difference in his tone and words makes you shiver with excitement. once you do as he says, a new shot of adrenaline courses through your body — because you completely forgot about the mirror that’s now right in front of you.

so you’re able to watch him push his pants down, positioning himself behind you. his big hands are warm on your skin, the silver ring on his finger making you shiver.

his shirt is half unbuttoned, his hair a mess, trousers down to his ankles — but none of that matters now that he’s got you bent over in front of him, fingers trembling in excitement as he takes the condom from his pocket to slip it on.

all he can do is hiss and groan when he feels your heat wrap around him so nicely as he pushes into you. “you’re so tight, jesus—”

you huff. “not my fault you’re so big.”

it makes him laugh and simultaneously turns him on. “you’re all bite, even when i’m trying to fuck you.”

“don’t act like you don’t like it.”

he then finally bottoms out, both of you moaning, and he chuckles. “never said i didn’t.”

god, he’s so fucking attractive. he bites his lower lip as he throws his head back, his strokes slow but hard.

his girth feels so good inside you — and his touches are electric on your skin. his hands go from your ass to your hips, your stomach, everywhere.

and he’s certainly not afraid to get loud. especially when he feels you’re pushing your hips back against his. he’s convinced this is what heaven feels like.

“gyu, a little harder, please.” you plead, slightly beginning to struggle with holding yourself up by the edge of the sink.

“how hard d’you want it?”

“as hard as you want. i can take it.”

he gestures for you to turn over, lifting you up and pushing you up against the wall, burying himself inside you again before you can even comprehend it.

his fingers feel almost painful on your thighs with the way he’s digging into your skin. he’s sucking and biting right above your collarbone, leaving some pretty marks that will definitely be visible tomorrow.

you push his jaw upward so you can kiss him, and he sighs into it, tilting his head to get better access.

it’s like he’s trying to match his thrusts with your heartbeat at this point. pressure builds in your stomach when you whine his name. “oh my god—gyu—”

“i love it when you call me that,” he breathes out, so into it that he’s confessing everything on his mind, “you don’t know how much i’ve thought about this — been fantasizing about this for ages.”

you hold onto his shoulder blades, nails digging into them. “then you better make it worth my while.”

“such a brat.” he teases, a moan slipping out right after when you use your legs wrapped around his waist to push him deeper into you.

mingyu’s stamina is admirable — but he’s a simple man. you’re so hot and you just feel so good around him, and he knows he’s getting close to his release already.

you notice his pace becoming slightly uneven, his breaths erratic, a layer of cold sweat forming on his back.

he’s doing his best to hold out for you, to make you hit your peak first, but you actually need to see him come undone first.

“are you gonna cum, gyu?”

you have to refrain from biting your lip when he’s stuttering out a response. “n—no, not yet—”

“i want you to.”

“jesus, don’t say that—”

oh, he’s cute. he’s responding so well to your words, so you indulge in it a little bit more.

“wanna fuck me again later? without a condom? you can cum inside me. i’ll let you do anything you want.” you tease — your words being the complete truth, because if he’d want to fuck you again, you’d sure as shit let him.

his brows scrunch upwards while he lets out another whine. “anything?”

“mhm,” you nod, “anything.”

his fantasies about you, the way you’re looking at him, the things you’re saying, the way you suddenly clench around him — it’s all too much. his release spills into the condom, his muscles flexing from the sudden rush of adrenaline shooting through him.

it’s enough to make your legs tremble, and you reach the climax you’ve been aching for.

he’s still coming down from his high, face buried in the crook of your neck when he hears you chuckle. “so much for being friends, huh?”

he then smiles as well. “are we close enough for you to consider me as your friend now?”

“you’re quite literally inside me.”

“knowing you, that doesn’t really have to change anything.”

“oh, is that so?” you retort at his cheekiness. “sure. you’ve made it to friend level 1. congrats.”

“great. level 2 is next, then.”

“god, forget i said anything.”

“no going back now. you’re stuck with me.”

something’s very clearly changed between you since that night. mingyu has, in a certain way, changed your relationship.

because you’ve successfully upgraded from strangers to fuck buddies.

and truth be told, he wants to rip his fucking hair out.

the sex is great. there’s something thrilling and exciting about your secret relationship, both of you skipping lectures and sneaking away after classes with no one around you having a single clue.

and yet he’s come to the conclusion that this isn’t what he wants.

he wants you. all of you, completely. but every time he tries to get even remotely close to you, you somehow manage to dodge it and change the topic.

it bothers him. but he’s scared to just put all his feelings on a platter — because he doesn’t want to lose whatever he has with you.

something he’s also discovered is how utterly weak he is for even the slightest bit of your attention, the smallest of touches.

so when he’s typing away at his laptop in the study hall, noticing the screen of his phone light up as a message from you comes in, he can’t bring himself to ignore it.

20:23: you look cute when you’re focused

the message makes him frown, and he looks around, trying to figure out where you are, since you’ve clearly got your eyes on him.

so he texts back.

20:24: i always look cute ;)

tapping his fingers on the table, he waits for your response. the three buttons that indicate you’re typing suddenly go away, and he pouts, only to then be greeted by your voice close to his ear. “bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

“fuckin’—” it almost makes him jump and screech out of shock. “christ, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

you chuckle at his high-pitched reaction. “bad conscience?”

“no. you’re just scary.”

“thank you.” you grin with pride, moving to sit on the table, right beside his laptop. “you busy?”

“just going over some older lecture notes to prep for an exam.”

“wanna come over to my dorm?”

“fourth time this week. what’s gotten into you? well, aside from me, obviously.”

“hilarious. really.” you remark, watching him laugh at his own joke, unable to help the smile rising to your cheeks. “what can i say? it’s a great stress reliever.”

“i know. give me a sec and i’ll pack my things.”

as he closes up his laptop and textbooks, you look around the other tables — which are mostly empty, except for the one by the window, which is where you notice a girl shooting you a bit of a weird look once you make eye contact with her.

“mingyu.”

“hm?”

“the chick by the window with the shitty earrings. you know her?”

he subtly looks into the direction of said window, recognizing the girl from his advanced statistics class. “yeah, i have a class with her. can’t really remember her name though. why?”

“she likes you.”

“oh.” he just shrugs, continuing to zip up his bag, standing up from his seat. “i didn’t notice.”

“sure.” you chuckle sarcastically.

that makes him raise a brow. he feigns shock, causing you to look at him.

“what?”

“you’re jealous.”

“excuse me?” you monotonously ask, brows furrowing in disdain.

“it’s actually kinda hot.”

“oh, please. i have nothing to be jealous of.”

“and yet you are.”

“either you shut your ass up or i’ll find someone else to relieve my stress, kim.”

he laughs and you roll your eyes. then he slings his bag over his shoulder, his hands in his pockets as he follows you out of the study hall.

as soon as you’ve entered your dorm room, he’s got you pressed against the wall, nipping at your skin. he makes you feel sickeningly good, putting your former boyfriends to shame — you’re certainly not complaining.

once he’s done with you and you’re completely worn out, you lay with your head on his chest, his fingers softly stroking your naked back.

you seem more on edge than usual today. less playful. tired, even. his voice sounds hesitant when he speaks up. “is everything okay? you look stressed.”

“i’m fine.”

he figures you either don’t want to open up or you simply don’t feel comfortable doing so with him, so he chooses not to pry, opting to let you know he’s there for you. “okay. well, if you need anything, someone to talk to, you can always come to me.”

you frown a little. refusing to act impulsively, you swallow your words, not saying a thing.

mingyu takes your silence as his cue to leave you be. a feeling of unease creeps into his body, and the room suddenly feels smaller than before.

so he gently moves away from you, sitting up to put his clothes back on. “i should probably go. wonwoo will be pissed off if i don’t have the kitchen cleaned up once he gets back.”

he’s buttoning his jeans when you speak up behind him, admitting your reasons for feeling more stressed than usual. “i’ve got two exams next week. they’re extremely important, i have to pass them, i just… i can’t focus for some reason.”

when he turns around, you’re not facing him. he leans against the tabletop, looking at you. “anything in particular that’s bothering you?”

“i don’t know. it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders a little, unsure of how to explain it, “i guess i haven’t been feeling great in my own skin lately, even though i don’t actually have a reason for it.”

“maybe i can help you study. could work as a nice motivator.”

“gyu—” you chuckle a little to reject him politely, but he sees it coming at this point, persisting.

“why don’t we just try it? if you don’t feel like doing it again, then, fine. we can always just restrict our activities to solely physical stuff again.”

“do you even have the time to help me?”

he’s smiling, able to tell you’re thinking about it. “are you kidding? i can do anything.”

“always so humble.”

“yeah, that’s why you like me so much.” he laughs. “that’s why i’m your friend.”

“whatever makes you sleep at night.”

mingyu wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to help you, nor when he mentioned he wanted you two to be closer.

he’s putting in effort to make you like him, that’s for sure. buying you coffees and snacks, offering to study with you whenever you mention difficult topics you have to cram for exams — he’s certainly establishing his presence in your daily life.

and you hate how easily you get used to it.

for whatever reason, you haven’t had sex since that day either. you’re pretty sure he wants to prove that he likes you for you and not just your body.

which is sweet. but you also have needs, and they’re worse now, knowing he can fulfill them extremely well, as he’s proved many times at this point.

so you text him to ask if he wants to come over later.

as he’s seated at a picnic table on the campus square, he notices your text, grabbing his phone to respond to you.

“your girlfriend texting you again?”

mingyu looks up at joshua, who’s sitting across from him with a pen in hand. he shakes his head. “not my girlfriend.”

“she might as well be.”

“she doesn’t like me enough to be.”

shua wouldn’t call himself nosy, but he’s determined to get a better idea of what exactly is going on between you. “what’s up with you and her?”

“it’s complicated.” his friend responds, eyes narrowing from the rays of sunlight. “i’m not even sure, honestly.”

joshua has this ability to pry people’s hearts open and let their feelings pour out without breaking a sweat — how easily he does it should be studied.

“are you friends with benefits or something? situationship?”

ironically, those words are the complete opposite of what you and him are. mingyu huffs out of frustration, voicing his thoughts. “she doesn’t like it when i call her my friend, she appears to have an exceedingly low daily quota of emotions, i’m busting my ass off to get my own assignments done and spend as much time with her as i can and i’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like me. at all. worst part being that i like her, shua. i like her.”

“have you told her you like her?”

“sort of. in a friendly way. she just glared at me.”

joshua finds mingyu’s inner torment a little amusing, but he feels for him. “maybe she’ll warm up to you. give it a while, she’s a tough nut to crack.”

“is she open with you?”

“sort of. i don’t think there’s a single soul out there she’s completely open with.” he sucks on the inside of his cheek for a second. “she has mentioned in the past that she’s actually very sensitive but just doesn’t, like, really express it. and you gotta keep in mind that people show love and affection differently. give it time.”

mingyu takes a breath as he thinks over the words.

give it time.

which he does. he notices you’re gradually getting closer to him over the course of time, still not showing too much — but it feels different. you choose to sit with him more often than not when you meet up with the other guys, you’re spending a lot of time with him, and you’re showing initiative to make time for him. every time he lands in your bed, it feels more intimate than ever.

you’re starting to make him feel like he matters to you. his crush on you is getting out of hand to the point he needs to stop himself from gazing at you every time you look him in the eye.

just like right now. you’re smiling at him over something he can’t remember — it’s a genuine smile, he cherishes those every time you flash him one as they’re rare — and you just look so pretty.

a text message from one of the guys on the football team pulls him out of it. which sparks an idea in him.

“hey, i have a football game coming up this saturday. do you wanna come? you could finally see me in action.” he asks. when he notices the puzzled look on your face, he tilts his head. “oh, come on. friendship works both ways, you know that, right? team effort and all that jazz.”

his wording makes you chuckle. “fine. i’ll be there.”

“you won’t regret it. our team is great.”

“really? then you better prove it. can’t be cheering for the losing team.”

with a raised brow, he points at you. “wanna bet?”

“what do you have in mind?”

he considers his options for a moment. “if my team wins, i get to choose what we do in bed next time. as long as you’re into it too, obviously. if the opposite team wins, you get to choose.”

now that’s an offer you’re certainly not gonna reject. taking on the challenge, you nod. “alright. deal.”

he shakes your hand ever so professionally, gathering his books since he needs to get to class. “oh, and, just so you know — my team’s won regional championships for the past two years in a row. i’m just saying.”

you tilt your head. he winks at you before walking away from the table, and you smile to yourself.

damn that asshole for making you like him this much.

saturday arrives, and you find yourself walking by the green football fields, surprised by the amount of people who showed up.

mingyu mentioned he was heading here earlier so you just told him you’d be there, sitting with the crowd.

it seems like it’s going to be a cold-weather match today. it’s already dark out, and the rain just started coming down from the sky. you’re glad the bleachers come with shade canopies so at least you won’t be soaked by the time the game is over.

your eyes are fixed on mingyu’s back as he stands by the sidelines with the rest of his team, enthusiastically discussing what’s most likely gonna be their strategy for the game.

then he turns around, still very engaged in the conversation, the wet strands of his hair framing his facial features. gosh, he’s incredibly handsome.

before running out onto the field, he looks back at the bleachers, scanning the masses before his eyes lock with yours.

he ever so dramatically makes a little heart with his fingers, teasingly motioning it towards you, and you put your middle finger up, making him laugh.

mingyu’s a real sweetheart, you have to admit. he’s growing on you.

watching the game is more fun than you anticipated. despite not being into football all that much, it’s great to watch the boys work together as well as they do.

you’re certainly not complaining when mingyu throws his vest on the bench halfway through the match, leaving him in a black compression shirt, emphasizing his strong figure.

shit. maybe you should watch him play more often.

it’s his team that seems to be on the winning side tonight — until the opposing team scores ten minutes before the end. both teams have the same score now, which is bad. ending with a draw would suck.

you’re now completely sucked into the game like the rest of the audience, desperate for mingyu’s team to score another goal.

the universe must be on their side today, because they do. three minutes left on the clock and none other than jeon wonwoo himself is able to kick the ball into the net, escaping the hands of the keeper.

it’s all yells of happiness on the field.

the referee blows his whistle to call the end of the game. everyone at your side of the bleachers stands up from their seats, yourself included, to cheer and clap for the boys, happy that they won the game.

you watch them congratulate eachother, some of their friends walking onto the field to do the same.

following the masses, you also leave your seat in the bleachers, walking down the stairs.

mingyu notices you coming his way and runs over to you, surprising you by lifting you up, giving you arguably the best hug you’ve ever had in your whole damn life. he holds onto you so tightly, his big arms and tall frame caging you in — in the best way possible.

when he gently puts you back down, his one hand briefly finds your cheek, which catches you off guard, but you don’t shy away from it.

he’s so tempted to just say fuck it and kiss you right now. you look so pretty, and your eyes — your eyes. he could stare into them forever and love every second of it.

but there’s too much at stake to get impulsive. “thanks for coming.”

“you’re welcome.” you blankly respond, making him smile a little.

“how did i do? good enough for your standards?”

you shrug at him, taking a brief look at his teammates celebrating in the distance behind him. “i was mostly focused on wonwoo, actually, but you were doing a good job too.”

he rolls his eyes before making a sarcastic comment. “you’re hilarious.”

“something i’m very aware of.”

he fake smiles at you, and you reciprocate the gesture, patting him on the shoulder.

“wanna go catch a drink with me?”

“don’t you wanna celebrate with the rest of the team?”

“not tonight.” he shakes his head. “i just gotta go get my bag. come with me?”

he intertwines his fingers with yours and you hardly notice it. which is bizarre if you consider how you had no relationship with him to begin with several months ago. “okay, yeah.”

you head to the men’s locker room with him, which is dark and empty. all the other guys are still out on the field, as you noticed when you were walking over here.

“the lights haven’t been working since yesterday, so watch your step.” mingyu tells you. the rays of moonlight coming through the high windows are enough to at least light up the room enough for you to see where you’re going.

you suddenly get an idea. “do you think the guys are gonna be out there for long?”

“they usually do. ten minutes, give or take.” he answers absentmindedly while taking his black duffel bag out of the locker with his name on it.

once he turns around, you push him back against the locker, taking him by the surprise, your finger pulling at the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.

“i give credit where it’s due, you know.”

oh. oh. he only then understands what you’re getting at.

you always manage to make him a little nervous somehow — he lives for it. “in public? here? we could go back to your—oh, shit—”

you make him stutter the moment your hand moves underneath his clothes to take a hold of his dick. “but you’re already hard, gyu.”

christ. you’ve got some nerve, putting up that soft and sweet voice as if you’re not fucking responsible for getting him hard in the first place.

he doesn’t protest when you sink to your knees in front of him, pulling his boxers down his thick thighs, his cock springing free.

you grin a little to yourself before taking him in your mouth. he’s so hot like this, all hard and panting and begging.

“h—holy shit, that feels good.” he gasps, the warm sensation of your mouth making him go dizzy.

his hand moves to the back of your head. you take him as much as you can, using your hands for the part you can’t take. he slowly becomes a mess, his head resting against the locker.

you look up at him when he’s shamelessly moaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around him, his hands subconsciously pushing your head just a little bit forward, making you take just that little bit more of his cock.

arousal begins to pool between your legs, and you suddenly curse yourself for choosing to wear jeans instead of a skirt tonight.

“fuck, fuck, baby—”

you release him with a pop, a mix of spit and his arousal coating your lips. “wanna taste everything. can’t make a mess here.”

it’s such a shame he’s still wearing his clothes. his stomach caves in so nicely whenever you’re sucking him off — like he can’t catch his breath. it’s the best thing you’ve ever seen.

his legs are trembling, and he’s embarrasingly close to his release already. “you don’t—ah—have to do this here if you don’t want to—”

“‘m not leaving ‘til you cum down my throat, gyu. you can do that, though, right?”

he nods, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his voice all soft and submissive. he can’t help it. “yeah, yeah, i’ll do whatever you want, baby.”

“good boy.” you tell him, entirely unaware of the effect it has on him.

the moment you hollow your cheeks, it’s over for him. the salty taste of his release sits in your mouth before you swallow it, and his chest heaves while he pulls himself together.

both your eyes widen when you suddenly hear the voices outside getting closer, and mingyu knows it’s time to get the fuck out of here. he quickly pulls his pants back up, his bag in his one hand and your hand in the other as he drags you with him to take the back exit before anyone can notice either of you.

you both take a breather outside as you lean against the wall of the building before you burst into laughter together. he feels on top of fucking cloud nine, if he’s being truthful.

“you’re insane.” he laughs, looking to the side to find you laughing and blushing at the same time. “you’re blushing? after doing that? wow. who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

“you’re getting special treatment, you know. i don’t suck off my other friends.” you tease, shrugging your shoulders.

maybe he should consider pursuing a theatre career with the way he dramatically puts his hand over his heart. “does this mean i made it to friend level 2?”

“you did. now you’ve been downgraded back to level 1, though. what’re you gonna do about it?”

he plays along with you. “well, shit. can’t have that. we can go get a burger with fries at that place near campus. my treat?”

“sounds good.” the words have left your mouth and that big smile is right on his face again. you playfully push his shoulder, cheeks hurting from the smile on yours.

he’s getting closer to you than you anticipated, and that’s not a good thing, but for now, you tell yourself it’ll be fine. how much closer could he possibly get?

another month passes by when, for the first time in a while, mingyu doesn’t drop by your dorm. he doesn’t text, doesn’t call — and you find yourself worried about him.

it’s been nothing but complete radio silence from his end, which isn’t a good sign.

you’ve already left him several voicemails when chan lets you know he’s been having a terrible fever for the past two days. it leaves you with the urge to go and check up on him, so once you’ve had all your classes for the day, you find yourself knocking on his door.

it takes a moment for him to answer it, wonwoo seemingly not present in the dorm.

when mingyu opens the door, surprise is painted across his face, the heavy bags under his eyes making him seem awfully tired. shit, you hope you didn’t wake him. he’s wearing a plain white shirt with thin black pyjama pants, his hair an utter mess.

the surprise on his face is gone once you open your mouth. “you look like shit.”

he snorts at your words. “would you say that to me if i were on my deathbed, too?”

“absolutely.”

he smiles at your attitude, finding it strangely refreshing. “wanna come in? i promise i’ll stay at a distance so you won’t get it.”

you didn’t think he was going to invite you in, but you accept the offer nonetheless. “i was wondering why you didn’t call. then chan told me you were sick.”

he shuts the door behind you. “yeah, i’ve been sleeping, mostly. watched some netflix too but it quickly gives headaches. i’m sorry for not letting you know — didn’t think you were worried.”

you pause for a moment. “well. you thought wrong. friends worry, don’t they?”

the words make him smile. he didn’t think you cared all that much about him for some reason — this changes that. “fair. what’s in the bowl?”

he’s referring to the black bowl covered in foil you have clutched between your arms. you shrug. “soup. i don’t know if you already had some, but it worked wonders for me when i was sick a while back, so… yeah. i figured you could use it.”

his face lights up when he realizes you went out your way to make this for him. with gratitude, he accepts the bowl. “thank you, i appreciate it. looks really good. you can sit by my desk if you want to, by the way.”

as he’s walking across the room, you notice the mishap in his steps, like he’s about to lose his balance. “are you okay?”

“yeah, ‘s just—i’m a little dizzy.”

your hands find his shoulders — a touch that feels heavy compared to the usual skin-to-skin contact you share with him — to put him down on his bed. “don’t force it. if you’re about to faint, you might as well be lying down.”

his lids hang low, eyes nearly closed when you pull the covers over his body. you touch his cheeks and forehead with the back of your hand to get an indication of his temperature.

as soon as you’re about to tell him he probably has a light fever, it seems he’s already half asleep. you pull the covers up to his chest to ensure he’s comfortable.

you gaze at him for a moment as he snores softly, biting your lip as you curse yourself for giving him a treatment he doesn’t deserve.

maybe mingyu likes to think he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but that’s far from the truth. even you have noticed he’s been looking at you a certain way recently, and that’s saying something.

one look at him and you’re already feeling like a big softie. it’s ridiculous.

you’re scared of what you feel for him, but as long as you can keep your relationship like this, it’ll be fine.

now that he’s asleep, you wander around his room. you know wonwoo must be at football practice, since mingyu is normally there with him at this time of the week.

you usually take him to your dorm, so you’re not in his all that often. your eyes rake across the framed pictures of his friends, family, loved ones, memories he’s made.

they stop, though, when recognizing yourself in one of the pictures. he promised you he’d frame one up as a way of ‘solidifying your friendship’ as he so politely put it.

still, you didn’t think he’d actually do it.

smiling to yourself, you proceed to notice his laptop screen is still on. he must’ve been working on something when you knocked on his door.

out of curiosity, you check the screen, figuring he was working on the essay he’s been postponing for two weeks because he had difficulty getting started.

you take a look at the assignment and decide you’re gonna try to do it for him. luckily, the necessary paragraphs that ought to be studied beforehand and referenced in the essay itself came with the mail, so that makes everything a lot easier.

when mingyu wakes up hours later, he finds himself alone in his room. you’re gone, though he notices the glass of water on his nightstand has been refilled, his laptop is flipped open, and there’s a sticky note attached to it.

slowly, he rubs his eyes and moves toward the desk to grab the laptop before sitting back against the pillows.

you must’ve written something on the note, he figures.

‘hopefully the essay is up to the standards of your class. i did it in a separate document so you can just get rid of the whole thing if it’s not what you want it to be. let me know if you need anything else. x’

he frowns, turning the device on to see what you worked on — and the screen lights up, only for him to realize you wrote the essay due for tomorrow. and with a few of his own additions here and there, it’s good enough to submit, which is impressive for someone who’s not actually taking the class.

and right now, all he can do is smile at his screen like an idiot.

you’re at the university skating rink when you hear someone calling your name from the bleachers.

looking up with a frown, you suddenly notice a tall man sprinting your way, so you skate towards him. “mingyu, what the hell are you doing here?”

“i got 87/100 for the essay. for the one class i always hate. you’re a genius.” he exclaims, absolutely beaming at you.

you suddenly remember doing the essay for him, snorting at his reaction. “so i’ve heard. good to see you’re doing better.”

“is there anything i can do in return?”

“don’t worry. i like writing essays. besides, you already helped me out plenty of times. it was the least i could do.”

the words coming out of your mouth hardly match your facial expression, but he finds he’s gotten used to it now. he understands you better than ever before. “you know how you said i’d get nothing out of a friendship with you?” he recalls, biting his lip for a moment, “you were wrong.”

a mere chuckle escapes you. “right. you get top-notch essays and bowls of chicken soup.”

your comment was sarcastic, but he remains serious. “you’re wonderful, you know that?”

it’s not often people use a word like that to describe you. it feels weird hearing it, but your attitude remains the same. “am i?”

“yeah, you are,” he nods, pushing out more compliments, “and i’m glad to have you in my life.”

the playful expression on your face falters — like a glitch occurring in your system. mingyu is starting to break through your hard exterior remarkably easily, and that’s beginning to scare you a little.

he leaves without saying another word, but the look on his face is enough to tell that he’s feeling the tension too. whatever relationship you have is becoming more intimate by day, most definitely passing the friendship it was supposed to be, and to you, that is very alarming.

and you suddenly refuse to let it go any further.

whenever he texts you, you either tell him you don’t have the time to come over or nothing at all. you avoid him like the plague, ensure not to go to social gatherings if he’s going be there and stay well away from all the places you and him studied together. it hurts, because you do miss him, yet you manage to keep it up.

but you can only do so much. unfortunately, mingyu is smarter than you hoped.

after two weeks of you avoiding him, he decides he’s had enough.

when you’re almost about to leave the dorm for your lecture, you hear someone knocking on your door. you open it to find him standing there, and he walks right by you, not bothering to ask whether he can come in.

“why have you been avoiding me?”

“i gotta leave for my lecture, i don’t have time for this.”

“so make the time.” he says sternly, jaw clenched. “answer the question.”

“i haven’t been avoiding you.”

“sure. so it’s a coincidence you suddenly stopped talking to me?”

you huff in frustration and close the door, leaning with your back against it. “no, it isn’t.”

he raises his hands in defeat. “so, why?”

“it’s been fun. i don’t know. but you’ve proved what you wanted to prove, so… good for you. we can both move on now.” you shrug, hardly sounding convinced of your own words.

“you’re lying.” he breathes out, scoffing to himself. he’s baffled that you think he’d consider it believable at all. “four months ago, i would’ve bought that. but not now.”

“believe what you wanna believe. i don’t really care.” you give him the cold shoulder, attempting to open the door so you can leave, but he immediately shuts it to stop you from doing so.

“don’t bullshit me. you care. i don’t know why the fuck you’re so hellbent on not admitting that, but it’s the truth.”

he’s beginning to get on your nerves. “what fucking answers are you even here for? since you claim to know everything that’s going on inside my head already.”

it’s then that he starts to show how genuinely upset he is at you pushing him away. “what makes me so different from the other guys? joshua, seokmin, chan—all of them. why is it so easy for you to be close with them but not with me?”

“because you keep trying to get closer to me! from day one, you’ve been saying you wanna be friends with me like the rest of them, but your actions don’t line up with that.”

“so what? i like you and i’m pretty damn sure you like me too.” his voice is softer, face closer to yours, those brown eyes of his working their way straight to your heart. “what are you so afraid of?”

either you’re imagining things or he’s leaning in to kiss you. his lips are so close before you feel them on yours, a sensation you missed like nothing else.

your fingers touch the back of his neck. it’s hard not to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the smell of his cologne making it even harder.

kissing mingyu is the closest you’ll ever get to heaven, but right now, all it’s making you feel is guilt and shame.

so you pull yourself away from him, breaking the kiss, hands feeling heavy on his chest. “close the door on your way out.” you whisper, leaving him alone in your dorm.

he stands perplexed in his place for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, processing what just happened.

“fuck.”

it’s been a week, and he hasn’t called nor texted you since that conversation. you assume that he’s decided to move on.

which is understandable. if you were him, you’d be done with it too.

it feels strange to be going about your day without him dropping by or talking to you. like he left a void you’re unable to fill. and it hurts — you miss him.

you’re having lunch with seokmin and minghao in the cafeteria when he’s suddenly standing in front of you by the table. “i just got a call from the gallery manager — we’ve got it to ourselves this friday evening!”

minghao smiles widely, the sweet sound of his excited laughter intriguing the rest of you. he turns his head to explain. “me and mingyu have been trying to rent the gallery so we could finally be able to put our work on display. apparently, it was just confirmed we managed to pull it off.”

hao is a passionate painter — mingyu a photographer. their love for art is one of the things that binds them together, and they’ve mentioned wanting to have their own exhibit for a few months now. despite the things that have happened, you’re happy for them.

“that’s great! we can come, right?” seokmin asks, already grabbing his phone to put it in his agenda.

“yeah, you guys better.” minghao answers, his gaze shifting to you. “you have to come too. you’re free, right?”

he’s aware of things between you and mingyu being tense right now — though he doesn’t know why — but he still thinks it’d be good for you and him to see each other.

your eyes meet mingyu’s for the first time since your last conversation a week ago, and hao follows your actions, looking at him as well.

mingyu subtly looks away, hoping his friend didn't catch him staring at you. before he can utter the words he wants to say, you tilt your head, already speaking up. “sure. i'll be there.”

he unintentionally gives you a puzzled look, and you pop a piece of gum in your mouth, looking at your wrist as if there’s a watch there.

there isn’t. “won’t you look at the time. i’ll see you guys later.”

they briefly say bye to you, very much used to the way you dismiss yourself, and mingyu watches the interaction as if it’s the first time witnessing it — as if he hasn’t known you to be like this for several months.

he watches you walk out of the cafeteria, confronted by his two friends staring at him. “what?”

“you’re deep in it.” minghao remarks. “when are you guys finally gonna admit that you wanna be together?”

“it’s not that easy.”

seokmin frowns, connecting the dots before gasping. “wait. you and her are a thing? since when? why didn’t anyone tell me this?”

the other two just deadpan a stare at him.

on friday night, you attend the art exhibit. you know he’s been working hard on the collection, and you certainly figured you were gonna be confronted with mingyu as well, but this is one gathering you couldn’t afford to miss. so you choose to try and forget the drama for one night.

you’re wearing a little black dress with lacy tights and sleek ankle boots, an outfit you feel nice in.

the gallery is buzzing with friends of the artists as well as people who frequent the place whenever a new exhibit is up. perhaps some pieces will be sold tonight.

as you’re passing some of mingyu’s framed photos, you hear his familiar voice behind you.

“i was surprised when you agreed to come.”

when you turn your head, he’s standing there with his hands in the pockets of his fitted black pants, the deep cut of his white blouse exposing just a bit more of his upper chest than usual, a silver chain sitting all pretty on his neck and collarbones.

personally, you find it’s relatively rare to find men with good taste in fashion, but he’s definitely got it. he looks good. really good.

biting your lip, you give him nothing but a cool response. “came to see if you were any good.”

“and? what’s your judgement?”

“haven’t made up my mind yet.” your tone turns into a more teasing one, seeing as he appears considerably less hostile than you. “does my judgement really matter that much, though?”

he nods so quickly, almost as if he were hypnotized by you. “more than you know.”

him showing you affection actually makes your heart shatter. he’s so genuine in it too — and you just don’t know what to do with all that love he so easily gives you.

people pass you left and right, completely unaware of the heavy feeling currently bubbling inside your chest. you’re crumbling under his gaze and he fucking feels it.

and this situation is precisely the one thing you were so afraid of. you know he knows how to poke into your heart, he knows when you’re lying to him, he knows when you’re upset or hurt — and the idea that there’s someone out there who can see all of that just by looking at you utterly terrifies you.

in moments like these, your expression doesn’t gradually change. it falls hard and quick, sometimes very visibly, just like right now. the blank stare is gone, your lips parting, eyes blinking erratically — it’s like you received a slap to the face.

“your photography is beautiful, mingyu. you’re talented, but you didn’t need me to tell you that.” your voice breaks in the middle of your sentence and you leave him behind, heading into the ladies’ room, hoping he won’t follow you.

you exhale when he doesn’t.

knowing it’s way too early to leave, you pull yourself together, and once you get out of the bathroom, you make it your mission to avoid him for the rest of the night. if that means talking to god knows how many new people, so be it.

minghao’s paintings are beautiful. you’re in awe of his talent as you walk past his artworks, admiring each of them.

as the evening nears its end, the artist himself comes up to you with that gentle smile he often wears. “so, what do you think? do i have potential?”

“are you kidding? you’ve got more than just potential. these are gorgeous. you should be proud of them.”

he thanks you, his hands sitting in the pockets of his trousers. “what’d you do to mingyu?”

you cross your arms over your chest. “why’re you assuming i did something?”

“because he’s been looking like a kicked puppy for the past few weeks. and i heard you and him suddenly stopped hanging out, so...”

taking a deep breath, you shake your head to yourself. “honestly, i’m not even sure what happened between us. it came out of nowhere.”

minghao keeps his eyes on you even when you look away. “he came out of nowhere and you started liking him.”

the comment makes your eyes widen, but you don’t bother hiding the truth from him. he might be the most trustworthy guy you know. “yeah. so i pushed him away.”

he’s aware of your fear of letting people in beyond a certain extent. “what did he do?”

you could cry, honestly. your face is blank — your voice trembles. “he said he was happy to have me in his life. god, i’m so fucking insecure.”

hao softly rubs over your shoulder blade for a second, a gesture you appreciate. he shrugs. “you’re not obligated to do something you don’t wanna do. but talking about it is better than leaving it unsaid. gyu’s a good guy. he’ll understand it, but only if you give him the chance to.”

with that sentiment, he leaves you be, and you rub your arms, staring at the painting that’s currently in front of you, only to realize it’s about two lovers.

there’s a thin line between laughing and crying. you feel like you’re somewhere in the middle right now.

“christ, i need a fucking drink.” you mutter to yourself, running a hand through your hair.

“mind if i join you?”

of course. why are you even surprised?

without looking him in the eye, you respond to his question with one of your own. “sure you want my company?”

“beats going drinking alone.” mingyu shrugs next to you.

you let out a sarcastic chuckle at that. “whatever you say.”

luckily for you, the nearest bar is around the block. the walk there is quiet. you’re not sure what to say to him, and you feel him subtly looking your way.

he holds the door open for you to go in first. the place is not all that crowded yet, only a few tables occupied, probably because it’s still relatively early in the evening.

since no one else is seated by the bar top, you choose to head to one of the high stools there, ordering two shots of vodka before even sitting down.

the bartender puts two shot glasses in front of you and pours the liquid in both until they’re completely filled. mingyu looks at you as he picks up the small glass, and you just lightly tilt your head as a toast.

his facial expression is as bitter as the alcohol burning in his throat. he hates the way you look at him — like you don’t give a fuck about him.

you look down at your glass. you still haven’t exchanged a single word since leaving the gallery. what the hell are you even supposed to say? you didn’t want to be here with him in the first place.

liar. the little voice in your head creeps in.

the silence feels as painful as trailing your nails down a chalkboard. surprisingly, it’s you who ends up speaking first.

“if you’re trying to make the situation more awkward, you’re succeeding.”

“i’m just trying to find the words. don’t know where to start.”

your voice is hostile and sharp as a blade. “then don’t.”

of course you’re aware you’re being mean. but it’s to serve a purpose. every time you show this side of you, people always leave. better sooner than later, right?

mingyu, instead of feeling insulted by your attitude, looks at you as if he’s deciphering a puzzle. “i will. because i care.”

that makes you remain quiet. you just scoff instead, not knowing what to say next. he shifts in his seat to be able to look at him better — you do the exact opposite, turning your face away from him.

“can i ask you something?”

you don’t actually respond, save for the blank stare you give him. which he takes as a yes.

“you not showing much… is it a front you put up or something you just do?”

an interesting question — one you actually have to think about. “the latter. having a resting bitch face doesn’t really help my case, i guess. but i also enjoy keeping people in the dark a bit. can’t have everyone showing everything.”

“why not?”

blinking at him for a moment, you gently smile at him. it’s not a genuine one. “do you wanna know why you feel at a disadvantage right now?”

“because your alcohol tolerance is better than mine?”

“because you can’t tell what i’m thinking.”

he then puts his chin up to look at you better. you tilt your head a little, as if you were following his gaze, and he feels like he’s on the right track here.

“maybe i kinda like that disadvantage.” he suggests, but you shake your head knowingly.

“no, you don’t.”

“how would you know?”

you suck at the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath. “my mom once said to me that it bothered her she couldn’t tell what i was thinking.” you pout your lips as if you’re thinking about it. “i told her i liked that. being an open book is my worst nightmare.”

“why?”

“putting your thoughts and feelings on display make you vulnerable. being vulnerable makes you weak.”

“so you think it’s better to isolate your feelings completely — discuss them with no one? ever?”

“unless it’s necessary, yes. besides, feelings aren’t black and white. do you know how difficult it is to convey them through words, let alone getting the person at the other end of the line to actually understand them?”

mingyu looks—no, gazes at you. “how will you know if you don’t try?”

“how do you know i haven’t? you think you’re the first person who’s tried to get close to me like this?” you ask, tilting your head. “speaking of which, i’ve been having a real hard time trying to figure out what it is you want from me. i’m not buying the whole ‘i-just-wanna-be-friends’ façade. never did. i thought it was the sex, but i initiated it more often than you did.”

“it wasn’t for the sex.” he shrugs his shoulders. “i like you.”

“so you’ve mentioned. since when?”

“since… always.”

“we never even talked before soonyoung’s party.”

“no, but i liked you.”

“bullshit.” you fire back at him, scoffing sarcastically. “i’m hardly likeable — nothing i’m insecure about. just a plain fact.”

“and yet i like you a lot. must be shocking.” he jests, the vaguest hint of a rising smirk on his face. “do you like me?”

“i can’t stand you,” you reach out to push his chin upwards so he looks up at you, only realizing how physically comfortable you’ve become with him after doing so, “but at least you’ve got a pretty face to make up for it.”

it’s unbelievable, mingyu thinks to himself. the way you keep teasing him, keep being a little mean to him, and he just eats it all up.

every moment he spends with you has him wondering what on earth it is about you that draws him in so much.

but, fuck, he just can’t get enough.

another shot is poured into your glasses, which you take between your thumb and index finger, nodding at him so he’ll take his.

the liquid burns in his throat, making him feel hot, and you get awfully turned on when you notice the way he wipes off the drops that accidentally ran down his chin.

“i think i’ve got you all figured out.”

his bold statement and matching attitude has you raising your shoulders. “oh yeah? go on. try me, i’m curious.”

the words tumble from his lips as if they’re part of a monologue he’s been rehearsing for weeks. “you feel so much, express so little. i bet it must be hard to keep up with your own mind sometimes. i think you often feel judged and misunderstood because of your attitude, but you don’t mind that much, since you prefer a smaller circle anyways. you simply don’t like wearing your heart on your sleeve, but it’d be a big mistake to think you don’t have one — and honestly, i’d do anything to be close to it.”

it’s not often you’re speechless.

he describes you almost perfectly, and your body language subconsciously changes, confident and playful demeanor gone — the cold and distant side of your personality coming out again.

“good job,” you tell him softly, moving to grab a few bucks from your wallet to pay for the drinks, “i guess i should say congratulations. you know what makes me tick. that means we’re done here, right?”

he finally spots the shift in your behavior. “wait—”

“have a good night, gyu.”

you curse yourself for accidentally using the nickname as you walk out of the bar, putting your coat on, feeling raindrops on your hair and skin once you get outside.

as you’re trying to make yourself remember where the nearest metro stop is, you hear him utter your name behind you. “what did i do? was it something i said?”

letting impulsivity get to you for once, you scoff, muttering a response. “it was everything you said.”

“why?” he asks, the tension running thicker. “why won’t you just let me in, for once? just this time?”

you hate how desperate he sounds — you hate how much it’s tugging at your heartstrings.

“why do you even want me to?”

“‘cause i like you.”

“no, you don’t. you just like whatever chase this is, just a little fun to keep things interesting for you.”

“has it ever crossed your mind that maybe i like you for you?”

“i’ve given you no reason to like me.”

“what, you think that no one out there will like you unless you act differently?”

his words feel like a growing tear in your heart. your self-esteem is so ridiculously low that it makes you believe no one would love you if you were to be unapologetically yourself — and hearing someone say it out loud hurts.

mingyu watches as the emotion flashes through your eyes, one of the few glimpses of what you feel underneath that cold exterior.

“it’s not true,” he says before you attempt to answer, “because you… being around you makes me happy. when i’m not with you, i think of when i’ll see you next. you matter to me.”

you’re not sure what’s worse — the fact that you reciprocate his feelings or the words that are coming out of your mouth.

“you’d do best to try and get rid of that feeling.”

but he knows there’s more lingering behind your words. “tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

“what i feel means nothing.” you state, voice laced with hurt, though not from his words. “let it go.”

“why don’t you wanna try?”

“because it’d be a disaster. for both of us.”

“c’mon,” he pleads, gently touching your fingers, “please don’t push me away.”

“god—i have my reasons, mingyu.”

“then explain them to me!”

“i can’t give you what you want!” you cry out, needing him to understand you. “someone like you just doesn’t work with someone like me. it might sound stupid, but it’s the truth. i wouldn’t tell you i love you, i’m fucking—bitter and cynical, if not misanthropic, i like my own peace and quiet, i fucking hate talking about what i feel — and you are the complete opposite. i’d make you miserable. you’d grow to hate me.”

“no, i wouldn’t.”

“you would. you... i do like you. i don’t know what the hell you did, like—it’s bizarre how much i’ve grown to like you. but at the end of the day, we’d never work, because i cannot give you the love that you deserve. i know you. you want someone spontaneous, easygoing, sociable — those are all traits that i don’t have. i wish i did, but that’s just how i’m engineered. we wouldn’t work.”

“how do you even know that?”

“i’ve had two boyfriends before this. both broke things off with me ‘cause i didn't show love the way they were used to, and even when they called it quits, i didn’t show a thing. because i don’t do that. no matter how often i say it, no one ever appears to understand what they’re getting themselves into when they get close to me, so i’m telling you now. this? you and me?” you ask, finger pointing between the two of you. “we’d be idiots to try.”

“fine. then consider me an idiot.” he breathes out, just barely registering how close he’s standing to you. “i’m willing to try. please.”

the crease between your brows is the sign of your inner conflict. “i’m sick of getting hurt. sick of people making me feel like my feelings aren’t valid solely because i don’t like expressing them.”

“i’m not gonna hurt you. we can take things slow.”

“gyu—” you plead, almost like you’re begging him to stop tearing your walls down despite knowing he won’t.

and perhaps the other part of you does want to let him in. it’s so scary, so tempting.

“i don’t wanna lose you.”

he adores you so much — it’s ridiculous. “you won’t lose me. please…” he touches your fingers so gently, getting closer to you as you barely make an effort to push him away, “please let me in.”

his heartbeat rises when you look him in the eye — he wonders how the hell a person so strong can look so afraid. but he’s determined to show that you have no reason to be anymore.

it’s raining even harder now. instead of backing you up against the wall, he takes a few steps away from you as if he’s leaving, only for him to turn around and gesture for you to come with him.

mingyu’s smile shines even in the heavy downpour — a bright light that balances out your dull one.

he extends his hand, and you finally get over the edge of your fear, finally able to take control of your own body and slide your hand in his.

you and kim mingyu shouldn’t work — perhaps that’s exactly the reason why you do.

thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

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nehts · 2 years

Text

HM.

#I was curious so I'm reading more on the appeal of boxing / wrestling .#I understand the thrill of victory and overpowering another person - to see that happen is an inherently great experience in-#controlled environments.#However.#I understand that I'm biased.#But isn't ... isn't it also inherently. just. just a tad uh.#What's the word. not homoerotic. but.#I don't know. Something about battle in every form is ...#It's similar to a dance with a lover - even if one of you ends up dead. This is specific to close one on one combat I think.#Though I have a personality disorder that makes it so that I can't feel the fear that most people have.#Oh shit. Oh fuck... that's right...#You know what? With that in mind. Yeah. Yeah I can see the appeal that exists outside of. homosexuality as a whole #I completely forgot that fear of dying and pain exists for most other people and that makes uh.#Fighting. as a whole. less. less appealing than it is for me specifically #Alright. alright mystery solved .#Honestly. now that I'm feeling good . this has turned into a uh.#Rambling About Things That I Can't Write In My Worship Journal But Still Want To Work Through It Via Writing blog.#Anyhow. I'm off to play ESO ........... I need to get my wife her dwemer sentry pet before tomorrow. or I'll die #Not by her hands. just. I'll die because I need her to have the best things at all times always

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dumplingsfordays · 2 months

Text

the phone call

pairing - Megumi x fem!reader

genre - smut

summary - you call Megumi one night in hopes of changing your relationship from being best friends to lovers and it ends very unexpectedly.

cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), mutual masturbation, pet names (sweetheart, baby), bffs to lovers, reader has female genitalia, swearing, timeskip to all characters 18+, one (1) mention of voyeurism + hair pulling + tummy bulge

note - back (sorta?) from my hiatus but I won't post content as frequently. sorry to all you beautiful people who submitted asks 😭😭 I'll make sure to do those fics asap b/c y'all are honestly lovely and overall really respectful and I appreciate it! thank you sm for being patient w/ little old me <33

art credit!

and as always, thank you for reading :))

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Quiet sighs escaped Megumi's lips in tandem with the soft breeze outside, whistling against the glass windowpanes. Moonlight drifted across his fair cheek like a silvery veil, making his pale skin glow slightly, and his long eyelashes, a trait that wasn't his favorite but one that almost every girl constantly pointed out with jealousy, fluttered when they met the edge of the light. And then, in the peaceful summer night-

Bzzt. Bzzt.

The raven-haired man sat up in his bed with sudden urgency, hand moving quickly to his phone on the nightstand and picking up.

"Hey, 'Mimi," your sleepy, half-awake voice came from the speaker. "Sorry to bother you but it's kinda important."

Upon hearing your voice, he relaxes - he lays back down and stares at the blank, white ceiling. "Yeah?"

"Uhm, I just wanted to talk to you about something..."

God, your sleep-laced voice was so gentle, sweet, alluring, even. He couldn't help but sneak a hand towards his abdomen to lay it on his stomach.

"Hey, 'Mimi, you there?" You ask all of a sudden.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm listening, don't worry."

You must be at your desk working, then, he thought, since you're up this late. Wait, no -- he heard the shuffling of bedsheets or something similar a moment ago. That was you, right? Were you also in bed? Did you also have the ghost of a smile dancing on your lips? Was your hand also laid down on your abdomen? Was it slowly creeping further and further down, until-

He shakes his head, rousing himself from his thoughts.

God, Megumi, what the hell are you thinking? They're your best friend, nobody thinks about their best friend getting off!

...Well, something about that scene was... arousing, almost, to him. The mere thought of you, laying on silk bedsheets and rubbing your clit to his voice, sent a shiver up his spine and he snaked his hand under his boxers. Well, guess he was doing this.

"So, um..." you continued, sighing, "I was thinking. I know that it's probably too late into the night to even be discussing this, but..."

"Yeah?"

He lets out a small grunt afterwards as his fingers come into contact with the sensitive skin of the tip of his semi-erect length.

"...are you okay, 'Mimi? Are you working out or something?"

"Ah, no, I'm just..."

Just, you know, casually touching myself to the sound of your voice. Nothing wrong with that at all. There's definitely nothing wrong with jacking off to your best friend's voice.

"Just, um. Moving my, uh..." His eyes glance around the room and lock onto the bedside table. "My table."

There's a small lilt to your voice as you laugh softly and clear your throat before speaking, and Megumi swears that he just got lightheaded from the rush of blood to his nether region.

"Okay... I was just thinking about, well... this. Our friendship."

He tries not to sound too strained and breathy when he replies, starting to slowly move his fist up and down his leaking cock. "What about it?"

"Well, I think that, um.. you're a really nice person. And I really like you. And recently, I was thinking about what it would be like if we, um..."

You pause, biting your lip. Should you really finish your sentence? What if he takes it the wrong way?

"You can say it. I won't judge, y/n."

"Thank you..." you laugh briefly and breathlessly, fidgeting with the skin on your torso. His words were innocent, but it was the tone in which he was speaking that made your thighs twitch slightly and your mouth dry up. Christ, Megumi always made you feel things that you knew you shouldn't be feeling towards a friend who probably only liked you as one. "I, well... I was thinking that it would be nice if we hung out at some point. Maybe, like... go out on a date, or something... I understand if you don't like me in that way, or if you're too sleepy to decide yet, but I just wanted to put that out there..."

His eyes widen a bit as he hears the word "date", and he subconsciously tightens his grip around himself, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. So you were interested in him, too.

"I'd... I'd love to."

He forces down a quiet groan as he hears the pitch of your voice rise slightly in excitement. Unbeknownst to him, your hand slides down your lower abdomen, gliding across your upper thigh.

"R-really? You're not kidding or anything, right? I mean, like... please don't worry about making me feel good about myself or anything, just..."

You hear him laugh softly on the other end, which makes that spot between your legs throb even more intensely.

"Of course," Megumi replies, trying to sound as put-together as he can. "I won't lie to you about stuff like that."

Smiling, you sigh in relief and your hand comes into contact with your inner thigh. After a brief pause, he speaks up again, his voice a little deeper.

"So.. anything fun happen recently in your life? Any new books you've read, or interesting gossip you've heard?"

Your head tilts to the side as a scenario pops into your head at his words. Him, laying next to you, whispering into your ear as his fingers caress your--

"Nope..." you laugh, a little shakily due to the intrusive thought. "But there was this one thi--"

He makes a quiet noise of pleasure and you choke, your fingers finally touching your slick cunny and rubbing it gently.

"...M-Mimi, did you... are you...?"

"Christ, I'm sorry, I-- fuck. I'm sorry, y/n, I didn't-- God, I..." he sighs, regret clear in his tone as he apologizes. "You probably think I'm some creep or something now. Feel free to cancel the date, I don't deserve it anyway after all this."

You swallow and you feel your face redden in embarrassment before answering, whispering.

"Actually, I... I, um, I'm not mad. I-I'm doing the same."

"What?"

His reply is instantaneous, his voice a mix of nervousness, shock, surprise, with the undeniable tinge of arousal. You were going to be the death of him someday.

"I-I'm doing the same. I know it's weird, I..." you trail off, sighing. "I'm sorry too."

"Can we..."

Megumi's trembling all over now, his cock unfathomably hard and standing up at attention in his fist, which begins to pump up and down a little more rapidly. You can hear it very faintly from your phone and you practically gush at the sound.

"...can we, um... keep doing this? And talking? I just... I think that since you're interested in me and I in you, we can satisfy our urges, I guess..."

"Please," you shiver, voice getting softer and more desperate as he talks.

"Fu-uck..." he groans out, biting his lip and looking down at himself. He decides to finally remove his boxers and strokes himself under the blanket, leaning into his phone's microphone as he pants softly.

You, in your own bed, whimper at the expletive -- you knew his voice was attractive, but this? Him swearing, and in that rough yet pleading tone, too, made you unimaginably wet.

"Can you... can you describe it? Please?" you choke out, toes curling as your fingers press against your clit slightly.

You hear him groan at your words again before he replies.

"I-It's standing up real tall 'n warm, sweetheart... it's fucking throbbing, all for you... God, I just wanna bend you over and... shit... just shove my cock into your tight pussy..."

You moan quietly as you imagine the absolute filth of the scenario, how deep his thick cock'll reach inside you... he'll probably be thrusting into you so hard that people on the street will hear the rhythmic slaps of skin on skin from the window of your bedroom all the way up on the fifth floor. And, oh, God, what if he grabs your hair and pulls on it, twisting your back and pulling his face closer to yours to meet you in an intense kiss, teeth clacking and tongues intertwining in this passionate dance for control?

"You're gonna feel so good around me, baby... maybe clench as I play with your clit and press my hand to your stomach to feel that little dent of my cock... you're gonna feel so fucking warm and wet around me..." Megumi groans loudly as his hand does a particularly satisfying stroke around his length, smearing slightly sticky precum in his fist. "Christ, I can already imagine it... I'm so fucking close..."

"Me too," you cry out, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive skin and thighs quivering from the electrifying pleasure. "I'll feel so good, 'Mimi, so full..."

His fist travels up to his tip, continuing the up-and-down motion as he moans shakily. "y/n-- I-I'm gonna-- fuck, think I'm gonna come--"

You whimper in reply, toes curling and forearm flexing. At long last, that wave of heat crashes down on you both, him groaning shamelessly as thick cum spurts from the red tip and onto his fist, and you gasping for air, moaning as you reach your respective peaks. Your body trembles as you're thrown around mercilessly by your orgasm and he can tell very clearly by your voice -- it's high-pitched, desperate, and borderline wanton.

As you both calm down from your highs, the movements of your hands and arms gradually slowing down, you giggle breathlessly.

"This was... ah, certainly something..."

You hear his voice, deep and comforting as he chuckles, through your phone speaker.

"Indeed it was."

"...But we're still going on that date, right?"

Megumi laughs. "Obviously."

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi smut #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #megumi fushigiro #fushiguro x reader #jjk fushiguro #smut #holy shit I literally did not watch s2 because I'm so busy but god damn I'm still simping #this was a pretty short one but idrc sorry ;-;

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hwaightme · 1 month

Text

Cliché

(masterlist)

🥂pairing: jongho x gn!reader 🥂genre: fluff, acquaintances to lovers 🥂summary: normally, you are not one to enjoy clichés, but what can you do when the best man at your best friend's wedding is choi jongho? 🥂wordcount: 1.6k 🥂warnings/tags: unedited, reader is 'maid of honour', puns, jjong-rizz, dancing, much pining, it's giving 80s/90s romcom, flirting, lmk if anything else 🥂author's note: 'chella jjong. that's the post. thank you so much <3 any reblogs/comments appreciated!

It might be cliché. Something you had seen in films and shows many times over. You had scoffed at the pairing and labelled it as a trope tied by tradition and the general public desire for happy endings to everything - despite it rarely ever being the case. But here you were, catching yourself staring a little too long at the best man, and discovering that your heart was beating just that little bit faster, fluttering whenever he whispered one thing or another to you so as to not attract attention from other people who shared the table.

It wasn’t that you did not know Jongho, hell, you knew him very well - or at least the on-stage Jongho, the ace performer Jongho, the legendary vocalist Jongho. Having seen his achievements on the news and having heard stories about him travelling across your social circle, you were well aware of his professional capabilities. You, however, could not say much beyond that. Past common courtesies and the occasional nod in recognition, you had never shared as much as a couple of sentences with the man. Even though he was the groom’s closest friend and your best friend’s, the bride’s, recent but trustworthy acquaintance, he was a mystery to you. A mystery with an infinitely precious smile and a sense of humour that was too similar to yours to be able to hold a poker face.

It all started with a pun on an item in the set course menu for dinner. And then another. And then another, completed by yourself much to his delight. Soon enough, both of you were dissolving into a fit of giggles, sharing the jokes that others either had not quite understood or heard. It did not matter. They were not addressed to them anyways. At least not when Jongho was fully turned towards you, a glimmer in his eyes and a softness so indescribable painted across his features that you struggled to regain your composure.

You were quick to connect over the many things you had in common, and spent some time simmering in each other’s passions, enjoying the stars in one another’s eyes as you delved deeper into details. He was kind, attentive. A listener. But at the same time, no matter what topic you ventured into, even if just tentatively and temporarily, he remained just as transfixed by you as you were by him. Whenever you were worried that you had over-talked your welcome, he would encourage you to continue with a gentle question. In a rapidly descending spiral, you got addicted to his melodic laughter and how his nose would scrunch up occasionally, far too adorable to resist.

Jongho reminded you of old classics, golden autumn sunshine and the sensation of when you get to rest after a long day in your favourite cafe, with a warming cup of the finest brew; perhaps this was because you found out you shared an appreciation for coffee with him. Be it ‘Roman Holiday’ or ‘Singing in the Rain’, Jongho retained a certain something that could not be defined by simply taking in a snippet of the present day. While you referenced recent trends and popular videos spreading online at each other, nonetheless there was something timeless about him. You wondered if this was exactly why his voice was so enchanting. The aura spread from the way he carried himself, to the way he made you feel, to the way he made you wish you did not have to look at anyone else. Dark locks that were elegantly styled to highlight him as every bit a gentleman, pretty espresso-coloured eyes that you had memorised by now, a tailor-made suit and infinite charisma that made you forget you were at somebody else’s wedding.

“I do wonder why we had never spoken before,” you mused out loud as Jongho led you to the dance floor to catch the pace slowing down to gentler, more loving tracks.

“Good things take time,” he took no time in answering, almost startling you as you caught his words.

“Ah I see, needed time for interest to build,” you teased, earning a shake of the head and a shy smile.

“Or perhaps,” he snaked his arm around your waist, and waited for you to position yourself comfortably to join in a slow dance, “to muster up the courage.”

“Hm? Pray tell,” you tilt your head, floating to the music and the sound of Jongho’s voice.

“Well I hardly think that gawking across the room is a good way to get to know someone,” you felt blush rising to your cheeks as you thought back to the times when you would study him or sneak glances at different gatherings where both of you just so happened to be - rare, but astonishingly memorable, at least the times when you could capture him in your vision and imprint him in your mind. When you looked away, just for a split second to regain your composure, you heard a soft exhale and were met with a cheeky grin, “I was referring to myself, but I am glad to know that the intrigue was mutual.”

“Hm- so, what made you want to change things up?” you swore that if he were to let go of you right this second, you would probably collapse on the floor.

“A kind piece of advice from your friend in white. Told me that I should probably take my chances,” he tilted his head in the direction of the bride and groom before turning in time to the song.

“Wise words,” for what had to be the first time in your life, you decided to be grateful that your friend had a penchant for matchmaking.

You never quite let yourself drift in daydreams too deeply, be it out of a fear that they would turn into regular escapist paradise or out of despising the sensation of disappointment that often proceeded after entertaining even the simplest idea. But now, you could not bring yourself to avoid anything. If anything, you desperately wanted to dive in, see where the duet could take you.

One song replaced another, and you were still in his embrace, allowing yourself to enjoy the moments trickling by. Butterflies were replaced by a novel serenity, as though no matter what happened, Jongho would still be around. It made you remember something you had read about one time: the premonition of love, the feeling that in the future, you could love a person with your mind, body and soul. And, funnily enough, the realisation did not make you want to bolt in the opposite direction like it usually did. Instead, you leaned closer, and spotted the glints of that same new beginning in Jongho’s gaze.

Were you confident? No, far from it. If anything, you knew that the chances of things working out were rather disconcerting, but you did not mind trying. You could not deny the spark that was between you, nor could you ignore the realisation that this was not a spontaneous meeting of two strangers. If there was something you could choose to regret, it would be not attempting to get to know Jongho earlier; but then again, was it time lost, or a necessary pause that led you to where you were now? As the song blended into another and the two of you stepped away from the dance floor, you noticed you were still resting your hand in his. Shyly, you pulled away, your actions only to be mirrored by an equally flustered Jongho. His airy, melodic giggle made you beam; you struggled to hide it by studying the floor. It was easy to conclude that your efforts were in vain when he reached out to brush his hand over your upper arm, and carefully uttered your name. In the span of the evening, how he said it became your favourite sound.

“I’m not a fact, but I’d love it if you were to face me,” he joked, making you purse your lips in an effort to not crack so quickly.

“Jongho, come on-”

“You must be floored-” you looked up, met with a smug and mischievous grin that melted into relief and an unparalleled radiance. Oh this man and his silly puns. How you were fond of it all.

“Careful, you might just steal the show,” you gestured around you, reminding both him and yourself that you were, in fact, supposed to be celebrating somebody else. Not that you minded the attention and the way in which your heart twirled.

“Mmm, fair. Then, how about… this is our first meeting. First real meeting, I mean. We can be the main event elsewhere, if you agree to join me,” he was hopeful, gaze locked with yours. Music barely reached you, drowned out by his proposition and the steady beat of your growing feelings.

“Are you asking me out, Choi Jongho?”

“Mm, I do believe so. So, will you do me the honour and agree to go on a date with me?”

“How can I resist?”

You smiled as you felt Jongho guiding you into a spin before rejoining the dancing crowd, and happily followed. As you returned a hand to his shoulder and delicately repositioned the other to be palm to palm with his, you could not help but recollect your now archaic musings. Perhaps some clichés were more than welcome, and some things did make you wholeheartedly believe in and hope for your... and his... happy ending.

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vxiphoid · 11 months

Text

EXIXIR OF EMOTIONS

❨ summary ❩ genshin › more than friends? moments. is he feeling too much or too little?

tags ✧ gn!reader, fluff, modern au (?), friends to lovers, y’all are dorks, the sweetest of feelings.

amanuensis’ message ⊹ y’all are not just friends babes, smooch.

⌜ O.7+ ⌟

♫ lover boy - phum viphurit

genshin masterlist

CUDDLING.

“you’ll put me to sleep at this rate.”

“its not like i’m going anywhere anytime soon. i like you here, in this moment. just sleep.”

— there’s absolutely nothing better than hearing your beating heart while he rests over you. no better feeling than your hands carding through his hair, braiding a few small pieces he was sure not to remove. he listens to your absentminded humming, your muted whispers about how soft his hair is, and the delighted thrum of your heart. his hand finds your unoccupied one and you were quick to interlock fingers, a reassuring squeeze following shortly after. maybe a small nap wouldn’t be so bad, little did he know you weren’t that far behind him.

AETHER, kaveh, WANDERER, zhongli, shikanoin heizou, BAIZHU, ayato, gorou, venti.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

LATE NIGHT TALKS.

u up? ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀2:23 am (read)

been up ever since i heard your ringtone, are you alright? ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ 2:23 am (read)

— you have a different ringtone from everyone else in his contacts for times like this. honestly, it doesn’t matter if you want to rant, call, or even plan something like going for a walk, his answer will always be yes. its the yearning need to hear you laugh over the phone, even if he did see you three hours ago. babble on about the first thing that comes to your mind, watching you light up as you spoke. he’s sure he has heart eyes as his pupils as he takes you in for the umpteenth time tonight.

XIAO, DILUC, childe, kaedehara kazuha, shikanoin heizou.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

LISTENING TO HIM GEEK OUT.

“sorry, i’m talking your ear off.”

“no, keep talking. i love your voice. what happened then?”

— its the complete adoration and love swirling in your eyes that makes him lose his train of thought. he notices when he turns to see if you’re still following, the smile adorning your face spreads wider under his gaze. what are you trying to do? give him a heart attack? don’t look at him like that (please do, he’s literally in shambles.) you’re so willing to listen to him even when you dont understand the topic. give me a night, ill have it all memorized and we can talk about it together, you’d say. how could you be so perfect?

ITTO, KAEYA, thoma, ALHAITHAM, tighnari, CYNO.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

D.I.YING CLOTHES TOGETHER.

“and then the needle goes through here…”

“please don’t poke yourself—”

— you texted him about some moss embroidery on a sweater you had saw on pinterest and he was already on his way to pick you up and run to the nearest store for yarn and string. he found two old similar sweaters in the depths of his drawers and you were quick to get to work. he could barely pay attention to his own stuff because your shoulder kept brushing his… by the end of it, made with your hello kitty bandaged fingers, on the very end of his sleeve was his own embroidered moss and your initial.

AETHER, BAIZHU, albedo, VENTI, kaveh, zhongli.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

DANCING TOGETHER.

“no but, what if i fall? that would be embarrassing.”

“i would catch you. always.”

— having his hand interlocked with yours has never felt so faultless, he’s been close but never this close. the amount of times he’s wanted to play with your hands but refuse because of the fear of making you uncomfortable yet you seemed so at ease grabbing his hands to mess with his knuckles at any given time. your hand that was splayed out on his chest traced little hearts into the fabric while you studied his face. for a second, he swore you leaned in.. that was until you stumbled on his foot. instincts kicked in quicker than he could react, tugging you flush against him. well that was embarrassing… even then, both your laughter, firstly stiffed, echoed throughout the atmosphere.

ALHAITHAM, ayato, DAINSLEIF, tighnari, KAEYA, THOMA.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

KISSING HIS SCARS.

“why do you do this?”

“i want you to know i accept every part of you.”

— weither that be his hands, his arms, back, neck, waist, there’s no place that your lips don’t leave a tingling feeling upon his skin. it’s how you say hello, its how you say goodbye, it’s so frequent he finds himself counting the mere seconds of the intimate interaction. how you lingered for a second longer one day or a second less the next. you’ve found scars on him where he didn’t even know he had-including the invisible scar you insisted he had on the corner of his mouth that you’d pecked last.

AETHER, albedo, childe, CYNO, dainsleif, DILUC, gorou, itto, KAEDEHARA KAZUHA, XIAO, WANDERER.

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jazjelspen · 4 months

Text

when memories snow

alastor x overlord reader

(notes: songfic, angst, reader has similar powers to alastor, al and vox used to be friends in this fic)

-oneshot-

song used: when memories snow - mitski

You looked out your window to see the Hazbin Hotel in ruins, 666 News playing in the background as you stared off. You recently left the V's building after watching the wreck that was Alastor and Adam's battle through Vox's TV, sure it felt good seeing Alastor get what he deserved after what he did to the both of you but still.. lingering feelings of yours stayed present.

You knew he wasn't dead. You could feel it, his soul's presence still reeked as always it always has in hell.. but it was faint. His soul was far and you could feel it recovering,

That was all you could feel though, your powers limited to there.

You never really enjoyed partnering up with Vox, let alone the other Vs in general. Despite him being an ass to work with you enjoyed when you and Vox would complain to each other about how Alastor threw you both aside.

For Vox he was a friend, business partner, but to you-- he was your lover.

Despite how much you liked complaining to him you didn't exactly pay him much attention since he clearly just wanted to reel you in to work against Alastor, in a heat of anger and at the brink of tears you agreed, now you wondered if it was even worth it.

You loved him, you loved Alastor so much. You made so many good memories with him to the point that you couldn't even look at your home the same now that he's been there, nor could you look at the streets, the towns, the corners of hell you've both been in together. Too painful.

The way he left you behind was sad, truly. He was courting you for at least a decade or two and oh was he such a gentleman to you.. a real sweetheart. He'd hold out his hand for you to take when going down steps of stairs, offer you his arm to hold when walking, take you to outings full of wonder and awe despite the setting you both were in, he even gave you private gifts for when he noticed you were stressed out over your work or simply distraught over anything. Yes this seemed like basic relationship actions but to you it meant so much more.

Sure, he was never openly affectionate. He was okay with touch from you and all and even said a few little cheesy remarks towards you that at times that would make your face flush from how pure his words are despite the owner of the tongue that they are coming out of.

You both bonded over how similar your powers were, bonded over dance, music, singing and to you he saw you as a very interesting and peculiar individual with how different your own adventures were, adventures where he just had to come and see what you were to do to end the situation with and how.. even your his and your shadows played around and goofed off themselves.

To him, you were entertaining.

But in private? He was a dream, at times telling you sweet things that made you light-headed in the best way possible and on the very, very rare occasions did he ever land a kiss on you behind closed doors.

You were the only one to see him this way, so in the end it made you feel as if his love for you was true.

Right?

You loved him, you hated him.

You want to rip him apart in a mess of blood and guts but you also want to be near him again.

Conflicting feelings were raging a war in you, your love and your hunger for revenge killing each other slowly to see who would be the fateful victor in this.

Seven years ago on the day of one of your anniversaries he left you with no warning at all, leaving you worried sick and almost grieving. You attempted to use your powers to try to feel his soul somewhere, anywhere.. but it was as if it fizzled out- leaving traces of where he used to be.

You never moved on and seeing him suddenly come back after those painful years passed made you so happy.. feeling his soul walking around was like a breath of the freshest air of Eden, until all he did was only acknowledge everyone but you.. he fucking acknowledged Vox but ignored you and disappeared each time you came around and no matter how hard you tried it pained you immensely how slicker he got to avoid talking to you.

The killing sprees you both went on together? The dates? The care, the protecting.. you sacrificed one of your fellow overlords for him for his radio broadcast when he first came about because you felt like he was an interesting individual with potential. Was it all just-- for naught?

He seemed in love in his own special way.. so why.. why did he leave you with no words and now proceed to pretend as if you're nothing but a limp corpse.

You hated it you couldn't take it.

So you sought refuge in Vox, becoming 'friends' through your fresh hate of Alastor.

Once the news finished its broadcast you couldn't help but still feel a sense of anger rising in you, revenge bubbling in your blood through your skin as if begging you to take your own pound of flesh.

"When memories snow, and cover up the driveway."

Your voice began to sing, singing wasn't something you did since that fateful day your heart was ripped inside out. But.. it was only fitting you finally did now.

"I shovel all those memories, clear the path to drive to the store."

Your feet turned away from the window to walk towards your desk, you looked around briefly to notice how unkept it was.. never fully cleaning your own study due to your emotional rollercoasters.

"And when memories melt," your eyes narrowed down in emotional pain, remembering one of your most exciting escapades with him before he left. "I hear them in the drainpipe."

You leaned against your desk as you hurriedly opened one of your drawers to then pull out a hidden black and white photo of Alastor and you celebrating one of your anniversaries.

You were so happy that day.

Tears began brimming in your eyes as your hand started trembling and wrinkling the photo with how hard you were holding it.

Do you think he'd visit you?...

Your throat cracking slightly yet your singing never dared to falter.

"Dripping through the downspout.. as I lie awake in the dark."

No, no. If he truly wanted to see you again he would've done it six months ago, but he seemed to be more interested and entertained by the Princess of Hell and her dingy hotel.

As the sound around you amplified so did your heart beat, your anger, the exploding rage. Your shadow began to move on its own as an evil smile presented itself on the floorboards. It laughed, it laughed at you yet whispered encouraging words.. encouraging you to get him to regret leaving you behind. The same shadow that laughed at you when you first realized that you were truly in love with him.

The shadow grew more and expanded itself to your wall and over the window, looking down at the window where the ruins of the hotel was visible to you. It laughed and whispered, mumbled and encouraged you.

As your sorrow weighed on you and made you physically lean against your desk with your hand over your heart, the emotional ache washing over you like a tsunami's ocean wave. It felt as if that dreadful day was repeating,

"And if I break,"

You turned around to face the window again, your body leaning on your desk with a pained look on your features. You wanted to stop hurting--

"Could I go on break?"

It will, it'll stop hurting. Your shadow told you so, and it whispered so many secrets and ideas to you you couldn't help but feel confident in what you wanted to do next.

You won't stay down, you'll pick yourself up.

You stood up straight and off from the desk, a newfound optimism seating itself next to your heartbreak. It even reached to your vocal cords with it now making your singing sound more stern and steady.

"Be back in my room, writing speeches in my head."

You took a few steps towards the window, your shadow only growing bigger and widening itself across your room.. basking it all in darkness. It devilishly cheered for you, for your up in coming revenge.

You began to grin, feeling your power enhance with this fire in your heart raging and dancing like a tango.

You raised your arms up as if welcoming in this new revelation, happily bringing in this new purpose.

"Listening to the thousand hands,"

"That clap for me in the dark."

Your grinning face stayed plastered with your emotions as you sang your last words, your song finishing soon after.

In the end, rage won over your soul, overlooking the love you have had for him.

You will get your revenge against Alastor.

Whether he truly felt the same way for you or not, you weren't going to ask yourself that anymore. Avenging yourself was all that mattered.

You picked up your phone, tapping it a few times before it started ringing.. your intended target to help you in your plans answered.

"Vox, do you still have some free time on your hands? We need to have a discussion about the Radio Demon."

You weren't regretting this, you won't regret it.

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skzstannie · 6 months

Text

"Do you want to start over?"

SKZ-> Bang Chan x Reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers wc: ~4,100 cw: arguments, mentions of alcohol and Chan's drunk, use of Y/N (soz, I tried not to), reader’s a university student

summary: a fun night out leads to a much needed confrontation

A/N: Hiii! Some romantic angst for today with Chan. I'm on break for the holidays, so expect lots of fics during the next few weeks!

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"We have got to get out more! This is so fun!" your friend yells over the loud music playing in the bar.

The time reads 12:30 A.M, and as much fun as this is, you can't deny the fact you're getting tired.

"For real, I could go all night!" another one of your friends says, her arms swinging over her head to the beat of the music.

Your eyes widen at that- all night?

"Come on Y/N, dance! You don't even look like you're having fun." They grab your arms, swaying you back and forth.

You let them have their fun for a few more songs, allowing your whole body to feel the music.

The time slips away from you, the rampant atmosphere providing you a distraction from your drowsiness. Your alcohol intake is definitely a factor, as well.

Your phone rings in your pocket, bringing you back to reality. You unlock it to reveal Changbin's name. You haven't heard from him, or any of your ex's other friends, since the breakup. Not that you were expecting to, but it's definitely strange for him to be calling you now.

Figuring it could be an emergency, you excuse yourself from the dance circle your friends have created and step outside to take the call.

"Hello?" you answer, your voice timid.

"Hello? Y/N?" you hear from the other side. He sounds a little out of breath, a hint of panic coming through.

"Yea, Changbin, is everything alright?" you question, your concern growing.

"Um, kinda? I don't know," he responds, sounding distracted. He sounds distant now, like he's pulled the phone away from his ear.

"Where are you? Do you need help?"

"Well, I'm with Chan. We're in the park, just off your university campus. He's refusing to go home until he sees you. He's pretty wasted right now, but I can't get him to come home, so I figured giving you a call was worth a shot."

Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear Chan's slurred words in the background. "Is-is that Y/N? Let me talk to her."

"No, Chan, just sit back down." You hear some shuffling from the other side before Changbin's voice becomes clearer again. "Hello? Are you still there?"

You debate hanging up. This was not supposed to happen tonight. Your friends brought you out to forget about him, not go and see him all desperate and drunk for you. Somewhere in the back of your tipsy mind, you know you want to see him, to touch him one more time.

Your breakup was sad for both you and Chan. You were the one who ended it. It was nothing Chan did; you were just far too stressed with everything you had going on, and you didn't feel like it was fair to Chan. He was always busy with producing, and if he wasn't producing, he was in meetings or hanging with the boys.

You always had class and work, and you felt like you were starting to neglect your studies. With you nearing the end of your degree, entering your senior year a few months prior, that was the last thing you needed.

So, for the sake of both of your education and futures, you broke it off. It was sudden, and you caught him completely off guard with it.

You remember how absolutely heartbroken he sounded, the sounds of his choked up words forever tattooed on your brain. "What do you mean? Did I do something wrong?" He'd grabbed your hands, pulling them close to his chest. His heartbeat was erratic, similar to his breathing, and the tears welled in his eyes so fast you feared they'd spill over before you could even respond.

"I just think it's for the best," you had replied. You were cold and emotionless with it, trying to protect your own heart in the process of breaking his. You never did tell him why you were ending it. You were scared he'd call you ridiculous, saying that that's no reason to breakup, and that he could fix it.

That's not what you had wanted to hear at the time. You felt you were doing the right thing for both of you.

It had been months since then, and your heart never healed. You still loved him, but you were always too embarrassed to reach out. After all, it was your fault. You were the one who broke up with him, not the other way around.

You never heard from any of the other boys either. You knew they were a tight-knit group, so you assumed they hated you. You hated yourself too, in a way. You broke his heart into a million pieces and never even told him why.

You wanted him. You needed him, so so bad. You've been waiting for this moment for months. Sure, maybe you weren't expecting him to be completely wasted, but you couldn't let this opportunity slip. Your friends would be upset, probably tell you it was a bad idea and drag you home. That's why you weren't going to tell them the details.

"Where are you? I'm coming to get him." You hear Changbin's sigh of relief from the other side of the phone as he tells you exactly where they are.

You hang up and send a quick text to your friends who are no doubt still dancing up a storm inside the bar. You're brief with them, telling them something came up and you have to run home. You don't wait for their reply, hurrying off to hopefully fix the biggest mistake of your life.

~ ~ ~

"Y/N, thank God you came. He's been out of his mind for hours now," Changbin tells you as you walk up to them. You see Chan sitting on the park bench beside him, and his head whips up at the sound of your name.

Chan's eyes widen at the sight of you. He jumps up, stumbling a bit, but he's able to regain his balance. He's surprisingly quick in making his way over to you.

You can smell the alcohol on him from a few feet away, but you don't pay it any mind as he throws himself at you, his arms heavily hanging over your shoulders. "Y/N," he slurs, "You're here."

He sighs into your neck, his head leaning to rest on your shoulder. Your arms come up around his waist, holding him up. He's not putting all his weight on you, but you still struggle to keep him upright, his drunken state making it hard for him to stand straight.

You look to Changbin, your arms straining around Chan's body. "What should we do?" you ask him. You're not sure what the rest of Changbin's plan was. You come here to see him, then what? Take him home? Send them back on their way? You're not entirely sure which you'd prefer, to be honest.

"I wanna go home with you," Chan whines in response before Changbin has a chance.

"I don't know, Chan, I don't think-" Changbin is quick to cut you off.

"I'll help him to your place." He walks over to you guys, practically ripping Chan off you. He drapes one of Chan's arms over his shoulders, holding up most of his weight.

You stop and think for a moment.

What are you doing!? You can't bring your ex back home! Your tipsy, and he's absolutely wasted. Even if you were to ever reconcile, you certainly didn't want it to be under these circumstances.

"Changbin, I-"

"Nope, this is your mess, and you know you need to fix it." He starts to drag Chan in the direction of your apartment, Chan letting out incoherent babbles along the way.

You're still stood in the same spot, but you rush to catch up to them.

"Excuse me?" you let out in disbelief.

"You heard me," he sasses back, leaning forward to make eye contact with you around Chan's hanging head. "You know what you did wasn't right, and I know you regret it."

Your jaw drops. How did he know this?

"You can't just assume I've wanted to run back to him all this time," you rebut, draping Chan's other arm over your own shoulders to help him walk a little steadier.

"I'm not assuming anything. Your roommate told me. We know you've been just as much of a wreck as he has been."

You scoff but leave it at that. How could you argue when he knew? He knew that you've been struggling ever since, crying day and night. Embarrassment washes over your body, already planning out the conversation you'll have with your roommate about sharing your personal problems with your ex's best friends.

It's silent for a few minutes. You're nearing your complex now, the light from the streetlights dimming, transitioning into the light from your neighbors' porchlights.

"How much did she tell you?" You ask as the three of you approach your front door.

"Enough to know you need this just as much as he does."

~ ~ ~

You unlock your front door, Chan breaking free from Changbin's hold and stumbling into your apartment. You watch from the foyer as he trips over his own two feet, falling onto the couch. You allow your gaze to travel over to Changbin, assured that Chan will be staying in one spot for at least a few minutes.

"You ok?" he asks, his concern for you showing for the first time that night.

While your roommate never made it known to you, the boys had texted her just days after the breakup, asking what had happened. She had explained your side of things to them, and she made them promise not to tell Chan. She didn't want to meddle in your love life like that. As stupid as she thought you were being, it wasn't her place, or his friend's place, to tell him anything.

They agreed not to tell Chan anything, if and only if she agreed to keep them updated on you.

"I'm fine. Yea, this is fine," you rub your hands over your face, trying get rid of the tiredness surely covering your features.

"I'll text you guys tomorrow afternoon," he says, turning to head back to the front door. You follow him, seeing him out.

He steps outside, turning back around and catching the door before you can close it. "I know we sprung this on you, but don't stress out about it. Just do what feels right," and with that he turns and walks down the stairs, not waiting for your reply.

You slowly the close the door, allowing your back to slide down it. You sit on the floor, your elbows resting on your knees, palms holding your head up.

Your heart races knowing who waits for you in your living room. What do you say? Do you wait until morning to hash it out? That would probably be best, but what if he wants to talk about it now?

Heavy footsteps bring you out of your thoughts. Your eyes snap up from the ground, seeing Chan making his way towards you.

He clumsily settles himself in front of you, crossing his legs as he leans back on his arms, his palms resting flat on the floor behind him.

His eyes are glossed over from the alcohol, a lazy smile gracing his lips. "I've missed you."

Your heart flutters at that. You feel the familiar feeling of butterflies in your stomach, and you're not entirely sure how to respond. With the exhaustion from your night's activities taking over your body, all you really want to do is go to sleep. Your mind is not in the right space to have a conversation with him right now.

"What do you want me to say, Chan?" you let out a breathy chuckle, your cheeks flushing pink. As tired as you are, his words still have an affect on you.

"Preferably that you've missed me, too."

"This isn't the right time to have this conversation. You're drunk, and I'm tipsy and exhausted. Let's go to bed, and I promise we'll talk about it in the morning," you tell him, rising to your feet. You reach a hand out to him, offering him help to stand.

His face morphs into a pout, and he holds out his pinky towards you from his spot on the floor. "Promise?" his voice wobbles, tears springing into his eyes. He'd always been an emotional drunk, his vulnerable side surfacing at the mere sight of alcohol.

Pinky promises had always been your thing when you were together. Until this day, neither of you had ever broken one. It was honestly a really important part of your relationship. Your plans would fall through sometimes, or somebody would forget to pick up dinner, but if you guys pinky promised, you knew you could fully trust them. Him remembering this in his drunken state does something to your insides, pulling on your heart strings a bit.

You hesitate, taking your lip in between your teeth, but eventually latch your pinky onto his.

"Pinky promise."

~ ~ ~

"Alright, here's a couple blankets and a pillow. The T.V. remote is right there, and I'll get you a glass of water and some ibuprofen for the morning. Anything else?" You set the bedding onto the couch, smoothing out the sheet you had laid there beforehand.

"Hmmm," he hums, bringing his finger up to his lips, portraying a very exaggerated thinking face. "Will you stay with me?" He tilts his head at you, patting the spot beside him.

"I will not. I will be sleeping in my own bed."

He pouts at that, and you quickly turn away, fearing you won't be able to hold strong if you look at him much longer.

You get ready for bed, making your way around your apartment turning all the lights off. You flip the lights out in the living room, the television providing a soft glow to it's surroundings.

"Goodnight Chan, sleep well." You wait a few seconds for a reply, but all you hear in return is his heavy breathing, small snores escaping his lips every now and again.

~ ~ ~

You're awakened from your slumber at the sound of your door creaking open. Your head jumps off your pillow, abruptly sitting up in bed.

You let your defenses down upon seeing Chan's face, slightly puffy with sleep.

"Do you need something?" you ask softly. You glance beside you at your alarm clock.

4:43 A.M. Way too early to get up.

He doesn't respond, the only noise in the room coming from the sounds of his socks shuffling against your soft carpet. He makes his way to the side of your bed, looking down at you sleepily.

"Chan, go back to bed. It's too early." You roll back over, too tired to play any games so early in the morning.

It's silent for a moment, and you almost allow yourself to fall back to sleep, but you jolt at the feeling of your bedding dipping behind you. Chan pushes up against your back, moving you further away from the edge of the bed.

He slides underneath the covers behind you, his strong arm coming up to wrap around your middle, pulling you closer to him.

He's incredibly warm, and you can't help but cuddle into him further, feeding off the heat his body is providing you.

He lets out a long sigh, his breath blowing up against the back of your head.

You lay there, stiff as a board. Your mind wanders to all the nights spent like this when you were together. How nice it always felt to lay in his arms, comforted and safe. You breathe deeply, inhaling his woodsy scent you've missed all those months.

His breathing has slowed and evened by this point, and you're sure he's fallen back asleep. You do the same just minutes later, unable to resist the invisible pull of your eyelids, shutting them and allowing you to fall asleep once again.

~ ~ ~

You're eyes open and you're met with the bright sunrays coming through your window, making you squint. You feel around behind, the warm body next to you nowhere to be seen, leaving nothing but the cold sheets in his place.

You jump out of bed, scared he may have run off early in the morning. Scrambling, you throw on a hoodie from your floor and hurry out your bedroom door, rushing towards the living room.

You stop in your tracks when you get there, seeing him sitting on your couch, legs crossed over each other on your coffee table.

You stand there another few moments, waiting for him to see you. He turns his body, "Are you just gonna stand there?" he asks, the teasing evident in his voice.

You don't know what to make of all this. He should hate you. He should've left as soon as he felt well enough this morning. You broke his heart for God's sake. You broke his heart into a million pieces, and never even tried to put them back together.

You slowly make your way over to him, sitting beside him on your couch, making sure to leave a safe amount of distance between the two of you.

"Sooo..." you start as he clears his throat. You both laugh, the awkward tension slowly melting.

"You go first," you tell him. You weren't really sure what you were going to say anyway.

"I apologize for last night. From making Changbin call you, to making you take me home, to getting in your bed in the middle of the night. I'm sorry if I crossed boundaries, I mean, I'm sure I did," he looks to you for assurance that it's ok if he keeps going.

You give him a small shoulder shrug. You don't know if he really did cross any boundaries. He obviously didn't make you take him home. If you really didn't want him here, you would've told Changbin yesterday. As persistent as he seemed last night, you know he wouldn't have pushed that hard if you were truly uncomfortable.

"It's ok. I answered the phone call, I brought you here, and I let you in my bed. This goes both ways, and if I wasn't comfortable with it, I wouldn't have let it happen."

His eyes soften at this, his shoulders releasing the visible tension he's been holding there all morning. "Ok, good." He hesitates for a moment, wringing his hands in his lap. "I guess, I just wanna know why, ya know? Why did you end things the way you did?" His eyes meet yours, and it's hard for you to decipher the emotion behind them. Anger, sadness, regret- you're not sure. You're pretty sure they're all present to some degree.

You pretend to think, although you know in your heart you don't have to. You know exactly why you ended; if only you'd let him in on it a little sooner, it probably would've saved him a lot of heartache.

"I was overwhelmed," you pause for a moment, and he nods his head, encouraging you to keep going. "I had so much going on, school was hectic, my job had my head all over the place, and I felt like what I had left to give you just wasn't enough."

He doesn't say anything for a few moments, his eyes glued to his hands. "You could've just talked to me about it. I would've understood, and we could've figured it out." His voice comes out weak, like I've struck a nerve that was never meant to be touched, let alone toyed with and tore.

"That was exactly what I was scared of. I really thought that what I was doing was what was best for both of us."

"You don't get to make that call, Y/N," his words come out strong, his eyes finally meeting yours. "I loved you, and I still love you," he scoffs, "Can you believe that? After all the hell you put me through, I still love you." He gets up from the couch and begins to lightly pace in front of the T.V.

He runs hands through his hair, brushing it back from his eyes. Tears well up in yours, and you quickly wipe them before they even get the chance to fall. You don't deserve to cry. You did this to him.

"I'm so sorry," you choke out. "I regret it. I regret it all. I can't imagine how much I hurt you, but I know I did, deeply. I want to make sure you know that it wasn't easy for me, either. I haven't been myself all these months. I stopped going to my classes, and last night was the first night I'd gone out in months."

He stops his pacing, standing right in front of you. He just stares, and your emotions run wild when you can't decipher how he's feeling.

"I'm so sorry," the tears you tried to keep at bay flow freely down your face now, "If I'd have known what it would do to both of us, I would never have done it. It was a stupid, spur of the moment decision, and I felt like I had control. If I had the control, everything would be ok," your words break through your sobs, "but it wasn't ok, and I'm so, so sorry!" Your hands cover your eyes, your head bowing to your knees to hide your grief-stricken face.

He still stands there, in the same spot, just staring. You're too overwhelmed by your own guilt to notice him moving closer to you at a feverish pace.

He rips your hands from your face, pulling your wrist until you're standing in front of him. He forcefully grabs your jaw, bringing his lips to yours. The kiss is short, but you've never known such passion could be passed on through a kiss.

All the pent up anxiety and guilt melts between the two of you, your emotions mixing together like sugar and water, dissolving between the two of you until they're one.

He pulls back, his breathing quick. "I've been wanting to do that for so long."

You look at him, shock prominent on your face. "How can you do this?"

His eyes widen, scared he's crossed the line yet again. "What?" he stutters.

"Why don't you hate me? I expected you to yell at me, maybe even call me a few names. Why are you standing in my living room kissing me like all this never happened?"

"I could never hate you," his fingers run along your jaw before settling softly on your cheek. "As much as I’ve wanted to these last few months, just to help myself get over you, I could never. I've been going crazy without you."

"How could you forgive me, just like that?" You're confusion seeps through your tone.

"Because you're perfect. We all make mistakes, and I've had months to deal with this one. Now, knowing why you did it makes it all the easier."

You still just stare at him, almost expecting him to say "Just kidding", laugh in your face, and run out the door.

But he doesn't. He's still standing in front of you, holding your face so gently that you can barely feel his calloused hand, his fingers gently caressing your cheek.

"I know this is a lot, and maybe I'm crazy, but do you want to start over?"

Your confusion becomes more evident, your brows furrowing lightly.

"Let's redo all our firsts. Our first date, our first kiss, our first 'I love you'. I'm willing to move past this if you are."

His eyes are filled with hope, sparkling in the light coming in from the window.

"I don't know Chan..." you trail off, "I'm not sure I can ever forgive myself. I hate what I did to you, and I've hated myself ever since because of it. I don't know how to come to terms with your forgiveness when I don't deserve it."

"We can work through it together. I will be there with you every step of the way. I promise, pinky promise," he's persistent, his pinky reaching out towards yours.

You stare at his hand, remembering how nicely your hands fit together. That's how everything feels with Chan. Your body has always fit perfectly with his, your personalities meshing like nothing you've ever experienced before.

"So what do you say?" your gaze raises until it meets his, and you realize you'll never be able to say no to those eyes. "Will you go on a date with me?" His smile widens, his pearly teeth on full display.

"I think- I think I'd like that a lot."

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klausysworld · 7 months

Note

This request might be too much and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. So pls ignore if it does.

My idea is Klaus x human reader. Klaus and her become close and form a friendship. She’s dating someone for 4 years now and it starts to get abusive (mentally/physically or both). She finally confides and confesses to Klaus after he notices something is off. He basically helps her get out of it when one day said boyfriend follows her into the mikaleson house and tries to get reader out of there aggressively. The mikaelson’s hear the commotion and Klaus does something.

Flash forward to Klaus and reader in an established relationship, though reader is scared to be intimate as she’s still struggling from last relationship. One day Klaus and reader are getting into it and Klaus pulls her by her ankles to bring her towards him and it triggers her fight or flight (as Klaus doesn’t know last bf used to do that when hurting reader) and so instantly she hits him in self defence and then profusely apologizes. But Klaus is just understanding and holds her and tells her he loves her and if all he gets is holding her. Then he can live with that. The way it ends can be however you want.

Just been going through some things and needed to feel and I absolutely love your style of writing.

Again pls ignore if this makes you uncomfortable, that’s not my intent! Thank you!

(Triggering content, please don't read this if it might trigger you and know that both myself and so many people are there for you to talk to)

Her protector

Klaus had been concerned for a few weeks now.

Y/n was a sweet human, she was kind even to the Mikaelsons and had become close friends Rebekah after helping her choose a necklace for a party she was hosting. Rebekah proceeded to insist that Y/n come and that she would love to make some friends here in New Orleans.

If Rebekah was honest, she was surprised when Y/n actually showed up, with a vampire boyfriend no less. Either way she showed the girl around and they got talking, drinking and dancing. Y/n's boyfriend had seemed sweet, loving and on top of that he was friends with Marcel, one of his few day-walkers.

At that point everything was still okay. Mostly.

Until Klaus had come over and attempted to flirt with Y/n. Her soft cheeks had started to turn pink when a man, a vampire, slung his arm over her shoulders from behind her and gave Klaus a threatening glare. Rebekah let out a tipsy giggle and smacked Klaus's arm

"Leave her alone Nik, she's taken and my friend" she grinned but Klaus only stared back at the other guy. Y/n glanced between the two for a second and Bex rolled her eyes. "Come on Y/n, let them gaze at one another" she laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her away.

Klaus didn't like that anybody thought they could challenge him, he didn't care if the girl was married if he wanted to flirt with her then he would. There was no harm done but the man before him was acting as though he had slaughtered his family.

However Marcel had seen the two in a silent stare down and threw his arms over both of them "My two best guys" he grinned "Lets go get a drink"

And so somehow Klaus found himself some-what drunk and laughing with this man, it was only the next morning when after he woke did he realise the way the guy spoke about his lover was a little off. He talked like he owned her, like she was a toy.

Klaus brushed it off though, it's not like he hadn't done similar things. Besides it's not like her knew her.

Until he did. And she was so lovely that it confused him.

Often Rebekah would have her over, painting each others nails, one of those time Klaus had stumbled in covered in cuts and scrapes. Rebekah offered a tut and a shake of her head but Y/n was already at his side, her hand on his arm while she asked if he was okay.

"He's fine, it's his own fault anyway. Always starting fights" she mumbled while watching her new friend help her brother sit down. She asked Rebekah to go get him some blood which she reluctantly did, handing it to Y/n and watching in interest as she lifted it to his lips. Klaus's eyes watched her with interest as his lips wrapped around the top and he began to gulp down the red substance. She checked his wounds were healing as he drained the bag of every last drop.

She had offered to help him clean up but he shook his head and told her to enjoy her day with his sister.

After that she was always nice to him, making him a drink if she was already getting one, bringing him back to eat when her and Bex had been at a cafe or something. She would tell him his hair looked nice or that she liked certain colours on him. One way or another she always made him smile.

Y/n knew that Klaus was lonely, often sad or grumpy. She had seen it and been told it so she made an effort to brighten his days. Rebekah always said it was nice seeing her brother a little happier and she was glad that them being originals didn't put Y/n off.

Their friendship grew strong and so did Klaus and Y/n's. Until one day when Y/n's boyfriend had seen her fixing Klaus's hair, using her fingers to curl the top pieces. He didn't say anything to her then but once she came home accusations were thrown at her. She was called a cheater and a slut, desperate for attention and fucking stupid if she thought either of the Mikaelsons thought of her as anything more than a toy.

She slept on the couch, crying her eyes out and cancelling her plans with Rebekah for the next day.

She tried to spend less time with her but Bex only got upset and ended up at Y/n's house instead. Y/n thought that he wouldn't get mad if it was just Bekah and no Klaus. So she and Rebekah went to hers more often than not and the few times she went back to the abattoir she would try avoid Klaus.

She was always polite of course, smiled at him and said hello but she didn't get too close if she didn't feel that she had to. Nor did she say anything about how he looked, even when he wore her favourite henley and grew his curls a little longer.

The only times she gave him some extra attention was when he was physically injured. She couldn't help herself. She couldn't let him struggle alone and in pain. So she would be there with a warm, wet cloth wiping away any blood while she held him a blood-bag to his mouth.

"Have I upset you recently sweetheart?" he asked quietly as she cleaned the stains off his neck

"No?" she whispered and he lowered her head to look up at her and catch her eyes

"Then why won't you look at me?" he questioned and she shrugged, looking into his eyes

"I am" she stated and he hummed

"You haven't been very nice to me lately, love" he told her and she nibbled her lip nervously

"I didn't mean to upset you" she murmured but he just stared at her for a moment

"I haven't seen you around much" he muttered

"I've been at home more, Bekah comes to me instead" she mumbled, and he nodded, leaving the conversation at that.

But he didn't know that when she got home her boyfriend had her by the hair, telling her that he had seen her talking with Klaus. Seen her caressing his face and going into his room. She tried to explain that he was hurt and that she was helping him but he couldn't care less.

"Bet you were fucking helping him" he seethed "Bet he gets all pent up after starting wars. Needs to get his frustration out hm?" he laughed cruelly and she shook her head

"No, no- I would never! You know I would never-" she cried but he refused to believe her.

"You were always such a whore, can't go ten fucking minutes without begging for it" he growled, dragging her to their room. She was useless at fighting back, he was a vampire and significantly bigger than her. So when she was thrown onto the bed and grabbed tightly by the ankles, she couldn't kick at him without him snapping her legs.

She hid away after that night, telling Rebekah that she was sick and didn't want to see anyone for a few days.

But once a week had passed and her boyfriend was still angry at her no matter what she did, she knew she needed to get out and see someone or she would go mad.

Rebekah and her had gone to a coffee shop, Y/n wanted to be somewhere public and without the risk of Klaus or her boyfriend showing up.

Rebekah could tell something was wrong though, Y/n was never that quiet or skittish. She was walking a little funny and did't eat much at all. And at any mention of Klaus, Y/n shut down the conversation in seconds. It made Bex think that her brother had hurt her or scared her so when they both returned home, she began to accuse Klaus, questioning and demanding.

It only made both Mikaelsons to become worried. They didn't realise how their whispering about Y/n caught her so called lovers attention and made him go back to her furious.

He always seemed to be flooded with anger recently. He hadn't ever been so horrid for so long in the past. Accusing her of cheating was something that always had happened, his jealousy had always been an issue but never this bad. Maybe it was because he knew that Klaus wouldn’t back down if he wanted her. Maybe it was because of whatever drunken conversation the two had on the first night they met.

Either way there was no excuse.

All there was, was fear and pain. And she knew that she needed to get out. The only people who could save her from a psychotic vampire was an even worse one.

So she climbed out her own bathroom window and ran, caught a cab and then climbed in through one of the Mikaelson's windows. It was late, dark but it was the best time for her to escape. What wasn't helpful was the amount of night-walkers that were downstairs. Most of which, were close with her boyfriend so she was screwed.

However, whether it was luck or fate, Rebekah and Marcel came down the stairs, arguing which made the others scatter off. It gave her the opportunity she needed.

She darted up the stairs, as quietly as she could and to Klaus's room. Trying to open the door but it was locked making her knock quietly "Klaus?" she whispered desperately "Klaus please" she begged, her eyes leaking with tears. She banged her fist agains the wood of the door making her wince from how her wrists had been held just hours before.

A tired grunt sounded from the other side before the door was ripped open, a very annoyed hybrid on the other side though his demeanour dropped when he felt a body latch onto his, arms around his mid-section and face in his chest.

He looked down, his eyes fully open now. "Y/n?" he mumbled, his hand cupping the back of her head.

"Please help" she whispered and he gently scooped her up, flicking the lamp on and putting her in his bed. She was in. sweatpants and one of her boyfriends shirts so he assumed she must've been in bed before she came. He quickly grabbed some sleep pants to cover himself up as he was in only his boxers.

He then sat beside her, letting her pull herself closer to her with a soft cry leaving her lips. He held her close in his lap and shushed her gently "What's happened?" he asked gently but she shook her head.

It was only another minute before Rebekah was at the door, she had heard the crying and recognised it as Y/n. Her face dropped and she came rushing in. She got onto the bed as well and stroked her hair "Y/n..." she breathed, holding her hand. Klaus and her exchanged a look as they listened to her try and hiccup her tears away.

"Sweetheart it's alright" he whispered, rubbing her back under the shirt before he noticed her face scrunch in pain and he frowned. "She's hurt" he mumbled and Rebekah quickly sat up straight, lifting her top slightly despite her protests to see the bite marks in her flesh.

"Christ" Bekah gasped and Klaus's expression darkened. He lifted her up to straddle his lap sp he could have a better look at her but she began to cry out hysterically at the position and he quickly lay her back down, guilt and worry consuming him when she crawled to Rebekah instead. Bex wrapped her arms around her and whispered quietly for only Y/n to hear. "Who did this?" she uttered, her fingers gently running through her soft hair. "Was it..." she trailed, but the look on Y/n's face was enough.

"I didn't know where else to go- he knows so many people" she sobbed and Rebekah nodded

"He won't touch you now" She whispered, looking to Klaus who was halfway out the door to find Marcel. "Nik's gonna take care of it all okay?"

"What's he gonna do?"

"You don't need to know that honey" she murmured softly.

They waited for a little while, Y/n stayed in Rebekah's arms and started telling her everything that had happened. By the time she was finished they were both crying and wrapped up in Klaus's duvet

"The worst part is that...I do think that I have feelings for Klaus" she whispered "he was right-"

"It wouldn't matter if you were actually sleeping with another man, under no circumstances does he have the right to lay a hand on you. You're not any of those things he called you, you're an angel" Rebekah told her, stroking her hair gently. Bekah glanced up to see Klaus stood in the doorway, eyes soft as he made his way back over.

He had heard Y/n admit to her feelings but knew that now was not the time to tell her he reciprocated them, he knew she would need time. So instead he just came back to his bed and shifted in beside her so she was between him and Rebekah.

"He ran as soon as he saw me but I promise I'll find him and I'll kill him" he whispered, gently brushing his hand over her back. "It'll be okay, just close your eyes sweetheart, I'll protect you" he promised, sharing a look with Rebekah as they all laid down and he flicked the lamp off.

After that night, Y/n slept in Klaus's bed every night. He kept her close to him during the days too, pressed to his chest with his arm around her. She was much quieter after everything, he could sense her embarrassment but he didn’t understand it. It wasn't her fault this had happened to her. He tried to talk to her about it but she wouldn't look him in the eye and he was only making her uncomfortable so he tried not to bring it up. Instead things seemed to go back to somewhat normal, they complimented each other and had their usual conversations which were mostly about random things to keep their minds off any supernatural drama.

Klaus hadn't been going out much recently which meant she didn't have to clean him up but sometimes when they lay in bed to go sleep she would trace his face.

Everything appeared to be going well for a little while before Y/n's boyfriend showed up out of the blue. It was one of those unfortunate times that Klaus was out.

He sped behind Y/n while she was in the kitchen, slapping his hand over her mouth to silence her screaming as he lifted and dragged her toward the exit. Growling in her ear and called her a filthy whore, saying she would never escape him.

What he didn't know was that one of the other vampires saw him and were under direct orders to call Klaus if he was spotted.

Klaus came rushing in, his teeth straight in the man’s neck causing him to drop Y/n to the floor and cry out in agony as the werewolf venom too quick affect.

Klaus had Y/n in his arms within a second, vamp-speeding them to his their room. Her face was held against the crook of his neck, encouraging her to breath in his scent and calm her breathing.

“He’s gone” klaus whispers “He’ll be dead by tomorrow” he told her gently “And a werewolf bite is a slow and painful death for a vampire” he reminded. “He deserves to suffer” he muttered and she nodded slowly.

“I hate him” she uttered.

“I know you do sweetheart” he mumbled as he pressed soft kisses to the side of her head.

Everything was a little better after his body was found. She felt safe in the house without the risk of him grabbing her. She was able to sit with Klaus and Rebekah without the worry of someone watching her.

But it didn’t stop the night terrors. She would wake up screaming thinking that he had come back to life and had taken her, tortured her. Instead, however, she would find Klaus. Out of breath with a healing bruise on his face from where she hand fought back in her sleep. The apologies would start tumbling amongst her sobs but he would just pull her close and kiss her better. Promising it didn’t hurt and that he understood.

Often he would go into her mind, with her permission, and give her better things to think about. Give her peace.

That helped her a lot, between Klaus’s affection and Rebekah’s constant company, she began to feel happy.

She and Bekah went shopping a lot, went out for lunch again or just sat in Bex’s room talking and giggling. They both felt as though they had gained a sister of sorts. Rebekah was so glad to have Y/n and to be able to help her, she also really hoped that Y/n and Klaus would get married so that they were sister-in-laws.

Rebekah was their biggest supporter, always telling Y/n that Klaus wouldn’t ever hurt her and that he already loved her so she didn’t have to worry about the rejection. But Y/n was still nervous, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for another relationship.

But eventually, months down the line, kisses on the head became kisses on the lips. Their hugs became cuddle sessions and instead of eating in the same room they cooked together and ate together. Klaus planned extravagant dates while Y/n arranged much simpler but just as intimate ones. Klaus would beg Y/n to let him paint her and she begrudge dress up for him and pose.

The only issue in Y/n’s mind was that she didn’t feel comfortable enough when Klaus would touch her more sexually. As soon as the gentle touches became more frustrated, more needy, she couldn’t handle it.

But over time she got a little better, heavy make-out sessions became more and more common and part of her thought that maybe sex was on the table until something triggered her.

Klaus had his hands all over her, his tongue in her mouth as she moaned softly. Her hands were curled into his soft curls as she tugged gently. His hands slid up her top and her back arched slightly. Everything was going well, her legs were round his waist and soft little pleas left her lips for him to give her more.

He pulled away slowly, his nose just brushing hers as he sat up. He smiled down at her as she followed suit and sat up with him, her legs dropping down.

“You ready sweetheart?” He whispered and she nodded, his smile widened and he took ahold of her ankles. Just as he went to pull her closer, a panicked cry left her and her foot kicked him in the chest, hard.

His hands let go of her and he held his chest in confusion before looking up and seeing the fear in her face. His expression softened and he raised his hands in surrender “Y/n, love, it’s just me” he told her gently. “It’s okay” he whispered, cautiously he shifted closer.

“I’m sorry” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears “I’m so sorry” she repeated, pulling her knees to her chest.

Gently he brought his hands out and picked her up, pulling her onto his lap “it’s okay, it was my fault” he mumbled, kissing her lips gently

“It’s not your fault- it’s mine, I’m broken” she cried but she shook her head.

“It’s his fault” he whispered and she let out a soft sob. “He hurt you, but you’ve never been broken. You’re just still hurting”

She sniffled and nuzzled close “I just…I wish could-“

“I know…I know but we can wait. We can wait for as long as you need” he murmured softly.

“But…what if I can’t…like ever?” She whispers but still he smiled

“Then I’ll just hold you and kiss you and take you to dinner like usual. I believe I owe you a bouquet of flowers, no?” He hummed and she wiped her eyes with a sniff

“You do?”

“I do, come on, we’ll go pick a bunch” he held her close and lifted her as he stood, carrying her down the stairs listening to her little laugh as she pressed her face to his chest. She knew not many men would be as loving and understanding as he was, she knew Klaus wouldn’t hurt her nor would he ever leave her.

644 notes · View notes

therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year

Text

Five-Point Star (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Bodyguard/Assassin!Chan x Mercenary!F.Reader Themes: Smut | bit of Fluff | Angst | Strangers to lovers to enemies but lovers? (i don’t even know how to categorise this one) Word Count: ~6k | AO3 Synopsis: With a career like yours, you knew you shouldn’t let yourself fall in love. But honestly, in retrospect, there was no way you wouldn’t have fallen in love with Chris. After meeting him, you couldn’t help but hope that he’d be the last person you fell this deeply for–maybe foolishly so… Warnings: pet names · cold weapons · firearms · questionable morals · graphic depictions of violence · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) · open ending.

Author’s Note: as soon as i watched the 5-STAR trailer my creative juices started flowing, and i set camp in my google docs until this piece was born. please don’t hesitate to let me know if i missed any warnings… this one’s a bit sad (or, at least, it made me sad). i apologise in advance. thanks once again to @straylightdream and @cursed-mars-bars for reading this and letting me know it didn’t suck💜

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Part 1 (you're here!) | Part 2 >

Smut Warnings: unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control] · finger sucking · some praising, of course · oral [F&M Rec] · rimming [F.Rec] · nipple play · creampie · overstimulation · multiple orgasms

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

In your line of work, it was hard to have any kind of interpersonal relationships. Having either platonic or romantic connections posed a risk, not only to you, but also to the others involved.

Even then, you were a firm believer that, as long as no one knew your identity while you were ‘on the clock’, was enough for you to keep at least a handful of people close to you. You had a few close friends, some with a similar profession to yours, some just office or retail workers that had no idea what you did for a living. What you didn’t have, though, was a romantic partner.

It was tough to keep a relationship going when you couldn’t tell them what you did to bring food to the table. You’d always dance around the topic fairly easily, but, eventually, the situation would become unsustainable, and either you or the other person decided to break things off.

You’d been single for a while now–a long, long while–and you honestly had no active desire to find yourself a romantic companion. That was…until you met Chris.

Chris was a friend of a friend of a friend, someone you had seen once or twice at the odd social gathering you attended. He was incredibly handsome, but, most importantly, he was funny, always made you laugh whenever you interacted, and also seemed to have similar interests to yours.

In a twist of fate–and against your better judgement–you ended up going on a date with him. A date that, surprisingly, ended with you and him tangled in his bedsheets. That night, you discovered that, not only were you compatible with Chris when it came to opinions on the current state of the world, on the theories for the next season of your favourite shows, but also in bed.

It was honestly almost crazy how good he made you feel, how there seemed to be sparks flying in the air whenever your bodies touched in any way, and, not to throw roses on your own garden, but you were confident that you made him feel good, too. So much so, the next morning, when you had to leave and he’d kissed the oxygen out of your lungs before dropping the most adorable ‘You’ll call me back, right?’ you knew you had no escape, that there was no way you’d pass up this opportunity.

Five months down the line and you already had a Christopher-shaped hole in your heart. You knew it was stupid, that it was dangerous, but you just couldn’t help it. Not when he was quite possibly the best romantic partner you’d ever had–to be fair, the bar was already quite low, but he still managed to jump ten metres over it.

In any relationship you’d ever had you always avoided the topic of work, not only yours, but the other person’s, too. If you avoided asking about their job, maybe they wouldn’t ask about yours, that was your reasoning. However, you’d discovered that people loved to talk about their jobs, that some people even made them their one and only topic of conversation, which was incredibly inconvenient.

Thankfully, Chris didn’t talk about work at all. Not his, nor yours. You had no idea what he did for a living, all you could infer was that it paid enough for him to live comfortably in his cosy flat. You honestly didn’t care, he could keep that information to himself as long as you could keep yours as well.

What you did for a living was probably not the most morally right career path, but it was your family trade. You’d been trained for it since you were very young, so it was honestly a no brainer for you. Some people called it a gun for hire, some called it being a mercenary, you, personally, didn’t particularly feel like calling it anything at all.

People hired you whenever they needed someone kidnapped, tortured, or killed. And, although you had killed for your job before, you almost always tried to turn those offers down. Clean-up was messy, and even if you hardly had any empathy for your targets, killing them always made you feel a bit uneasy.

Two nights ago you were called in for a job, the kidnapping of the eldest son of the Kim family that ruled the capital city. Seungmin, his name was. Based on the investigation you’d done he was younger than you, a bit rowdy, and an apparent oddball. He, very inconveniently for you, also had a handful of very skilled bodyguards protecting him at all times.

You couldn’t find any records of those bodyguards of his, only that they called themselves the Five-Point Stars, and that they were good at what they did. Regardless, you had a lot of confidence in your own abilities. After all, never once had you lost a fight, nor been unable to finish one of your jobs–although you’d been close to being killed sometimes, you’d admit.

As soon as you woke up, you started to recount the plan you had put together for your mission tonight.

After wiretapping his personal tailor’s phone, you heard him tell someone how he had prepared Seungmin’s suit for the night. You knew Seungmin was going to attend a screening of a new movie that was financed by his father. It’d be dark, crowded, and the perfect setting for you to sneak in, get him unconscious, take him out of there, and hopefully outsmart his bodyguards.

A particularly loud snore next to you snapped you out of your focus, and you turned around to find Chris on his back, with an arm over his eyes and his mouth slightly open. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, and, for a moment, even if just for this morning, you decided you wanted to enjoy being just a regular civilian instead of a trained assassin.

“Baby…” You reached for Chris’ shoulder to lightly shake him awake. “Baby, wake up”.

Chris’ whole body tensed. His hand flew to catch yours that was shaking him awake, and he held it in a tight grip. Throughout your relationship you’d discovered that Chris had incredibly quick reflexes, and a very intense fight or flight response, so his sudden movement didn’t faze you in the slightest. “W–what?”

“You were about to choke, baby. You need to move”, throughout your relationship, you’d also learnt that Chris suffered from a sleeping disorder. You found out about it the first time he woke you up in the middle of the night gasping for air.

Poor thing, he’d been so embarrassed while he told you about it, but you were quick to reassure him that you didn’t mind, if anything, it only made you worry about him.

Because that was how important Chris was to you. Important enough for you to care about his sleeping habits, important enough that he warmed your cold heart.

So now, any time you were awake and you heard him snore particularly loudly, you woke him up before he could choke on his spit.

“Ah… Thank you, sweetheart”, he mumbled, clearly still half asleep.

Chris turned to his side, scooting closer to you and pulling you into his arms. You couldn’t help the small giggle that left your lips as soon as your head was tucked under his chin, just like he seemed to not be able to contain his at all, either.

The feeling of his bare skin against yours was incredibly comforting, his warmth seeped into you, reaching areas deep within your heart that no one else ever had before.

As you laid there in his arms, as you heard his heartbeat under your ear, and as you felt the minute rumbles of his snoring resume, you realised this was probably the happiest you’d ever been with a partner, and you hoped that your relationship with Chris would be the last one you ever had.

Getting into the movie screening was easy. Your specialty was sneaking around undetected, you’d learnt to walk without making a sound–no sound from your feet hitting the ground, nor your breath going in and out of your lungs, nor your clothes moving with the wind…

You’d also heard from Seungmin’s tailor–whose name was apparently Hyunjin–that the Kims had a special, private room in this particular cinema, so that was likely where the eldest son of the family would be.

Finding this room was the hard part. It wasn’t in any of the blueprints of the building, so you spent a good hour surveying the place, until you finally saw a waiter coming out from what seemed to be a simple wall.

Tightening the hood over your head, making sure the lower part of your face was covered properly by your kerchief, you made your way to that wall to inspect it closely. There was a tile on the wall that was shaped differently than the others. It was barely perceptible, just a tad smaller than the ones around it, so you pressed on it, and immediately you were able to push what you now knew was a door camouflaged as part of the wall.

As soon as you stepped into the room, you saw Seungmin, sitting on what looked to be a very comfortable armchair, watching the movie from behind the glass that kept this area hidden from the rest of the auditorium.

Slowly, you approached him, careful to not make a single sound as you unclipped the rope you had attached to your belt. Before you could use it, though, you felt a slight disturbance in the air around you, and every single one of your senses zeroed in on the direction of it.

In a second, you ducked, just barely missing the bat that had been swung your way.

“Chan!” You heard Seungmin scream, but you didn’t dare turn to look at him, not when his bodyguard had all his attention on you.

It was just one man. You could barely make out the features of his face, not only because it was dark, but also because he had a mask covering the lower half of his face, and because he was moving so fast you could hardly take in anything else.

The man, Chan, based on the name Seungmin had screamed, certainly put up a good fight. Any blow you sent his way he blocked without much difficulty, just like you did his. It was a pretty on par encounter, but you were running out of time. The longer you stayed there, the more time you were giving them to get back-up, so you reasoned the wisest choice was to retreat. This mission was getting way too dangerous, and if they captured you it’d all be over.

Chan wasn’t giving up, though, and he was making it incredibly hard for you to make your escape. You managed to kick him in the chest, but aside from a grunt of discomfort he didn’t relent, and, with a swing of his bat, he was able to land a hit on your arm.

It was painful, yes, but you could hardly feel it with the adrenaline pumping through your system. Taking a knife from their designated place on your bodice, you threw it in Chan’s direction. It didn’t stab him, but it did manage to cut one side of his mask, enough to distract him so you could make your escape.

By the time you were out of the cinema the place was full of guards, so you knew your night was over.

It didn’t matter.

You hadn’t lost. You were just experiencing a set-back.

“Missed you so much, gorgeous”, Chris mumbled between kisses, further pressing you against the back of your front door.

“Missed you, too”, was all you mumbled back, unable to keep your lips away from his for too long.

You hadn’t seen Chris for seven whole days. It wasn’t because you didn’t want to, you were honestly desperate to see him, but once you were back at your place after your failed attempt to kidnap Seungmin you realised how hurt your body was.

That guy Chan had certainly done a number on you, and the only thing that kept you from bursting into flames by the rage you felt, was the fact that you were sure you’d done a number on him, too.

Your bruises had now just started to fade, so you figured they were now normal-looking enough that your boyfriend wouldn’t think much about them.

You were supposed to go out for dinner tonight, but as soon as Chris was at your doorstep, as soon as his lips were on yours, you both quickly realised you didn’t want to go for dinner anymore. How could you, when the taste of each other was much better than any meal you could possibly have?

“Come here”, Chris pulled himself away from you, taking a hold of your hand and tugging you towards the sofa. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about those nudes you sent me”.

You couldn’t help the smirk that came to your face. Of course he couldn’t stop thinking about the pictures you sent him. That was their entire purpose, after all. They were simple, really, but clearly enough to rile him up. It was just you riding one of your favourite dildos, with your ass on full display for him to ogle.

Chris pushed you to the sofa. As soon as you were seated he dropped to his knees, and spread you open for him. Wearing a skirt to your date was certainly the wisest choice you made tonight.

“Maybe I should send you a video next time. I’ll ride it just like I ride you”, you said, just as you lifted your hips enough for him to pull your underwear down your legs.

“Fuck, you spoil me too much”, was the last thing to come out of Chris’ mouth before he dived between your legs. His lips found your clit with expert ease, gently sucking on it.

Your entire body came alight, a moan of his name escaped your mouth, and you brought a hand to his head so you could tug on his curls, just how you knew he liked it. “So fucking good with your mouth, baby, fuck…”

Chris simply hummed in response, sending vibrations through your body, making you whine.

With his hands on the back of your thighs, he pushed your legs further towards your chest, getting better access to your centre. Chris had very quickly learnt his way around your body, and he’d even shown you new ways in which you could feel good, ways you’d never even imagined you’d get to experience.

His tongue changed focus, from your clit to your entrance, diligently licking your folds, and he groaned at the taste of you on his tongue once he pushed it within your walls. He stayed there for a while, occasionally coming back up to lick and suck on your clit only to come back down to slurp you up. Until he finally moved further down so he could lick the tender skin of your ass, all while he stimulated your clit with his fingers, making you shiver.

Desire pooled in the pit of your stomach, and the most pathetic whine left your mouth as soon as he started to lave at your skin. You would’ve never thought how good this could feel, never let a partner come anywhere near your ass, but one night, after drinking one too many beers, the topic of things you would’ve liked to try in bed came up.

You could still remember the look on Chris’ face when he confidently said ‘I’d really like to eat your ass. Like, would love to, honestly’. And maybe it’d been the fact that you were a bit tipsy, or the fact that he was so utterly unashamed when he said it, or maybe even the fact that you trusted Chris like you’d never trusted anyone else before, but you weren’t entirely displeased with the idea… So you gave it a try, and now you couldn’t even fathom getting head if you didn’t feel his tongue on your ass at least once.

Without detaching his mouth from your sensitive skin, he brought two fingers to your mouth, and you wasted no time on wrapping your lips around them, sucking on them, licking them. You couldn’t help but moan around his digits, and Chris simply gave you a satisfied hum in response.

He let you enjoy the feeling of his fingers in your mouth for a while, until they were thoroughly coated in your saliva. As soon as he removed them from between your lips, he brought them to your entrance and pushed them into you, to the last knuckle. “C’mon, baby. Show me your pretty tits. Hm?”

You just nodded in response, unable to form a sentence with the now relentless pace of his fingers continuously hitting the most sensitive areas within your walls. With trembling fingers, you unbuttoned your blouse and squeezed your breasts over the fabric of your lace bralette before you pulled them out of the cups.

“Shit, look at you… Touch them, baby. Just how you like it”.

So you complied, lightly dragging your fingers over your now stiff nipples, sending tiny shocks of pleasure up and down your spine with the motion. The stimulation you were giving to your chest, Chris’ fingers going in and out of your cunt, and the dirty words coming out of his mouth brought you close to the edge, and you started to feel incredibly desperate for your relief.

“Chris, baby…” You whined as Chris sped up his motions, as you rolled your nipples between your fingers.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Chris’ voice was so soft, a complete contrast to the brutal pace of his fingers.

“Want your–Your mouth”, you could barely hold eye contact anymore, seeing the desire in his eyes brought heat to your cheeks. It was always the same when he found himself between your legs, he always looked at you like you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and it made you feel incredibly wanted.

“Hmm… You sure that’s what you want?”

You nodded, a bit frantically, you’d admit. “Want your mouth to…make me come, please, love–”

You knew that the second the word ‘please’ left your mouth you’d get exactly what you asked for, and you barely registered the broken moan that flew past your lips as soon as his lips attached to your clit once again.

Chris’ movements didn’t relent until you were coming. They didn’t even relent while you were coming. He kept sucking on your clit, fucking you open with his fingers, turning you into a whimpering mess as he pushed you past the brink of overstimulation, and making you fall face first into a consecutive high.

When he was done with you, you were still trembling, panting, and he finally left his place on the floor to sit next to you on the sofa and pull you into his chest so he could softly caress your hair, mumbling sweet words of encouragement. ‘Mmm… Such a good girl, aren’t you, love? So good to me. You did well…’

You just hummed, burying your face in the crook of his neck to leisurely press kisses on his skin.

As soon as you regained some of your composure, you kissed him. You kissed him with such want one would’ve thought he hadn’t just made you feel like you’d gone to the moon and back four times. You quickly undid his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, and tugged them and his underwear down just enough to let his length free of its confinements.

In no time, you had straddled him and sunk yourself on his cock, eliciting a shared sigh of relief.

You sneaked a hand under his shirt just as you leaned in to kiss him again. His abdomen tensed and relaxed while you slowly traced every muscle with your fingertips, your soft caresses eliciting content sighs to fall from his lips and get lost in your mouth. Taking a hold of the hem of his shirt, you tried to get it off of his frame, but Chris shook his head, pulling your hands away and mumbling a “no time for that… God, bun, move…”

Chris held your ass tightly in his hands as you bounced on him. His mouth attached to your chest, sucking your nipples into his mouth so he could lick them, nibble on them. Under the unfaltering pace of your hips, it only took a handful of minutes to turn him into a moaning, whining mess.

“Fuck, baby… If you don’t slow down, I’ll blow”, Chris nuzzled his face on your chest, and you brought your hands to the back of his head, further pushing him into your cleavage.

“Good”, was all you told him, admittedly a bit breathless. “Need you to fill me up, Chris, baby… Need it so bad…”

Chris swore under his breath, and his hold on your buttocks tightened. It wasn’t long until you got exactly what you wanted. With a moan of your name, your boyfriend pumped you full of his release, making you whine at the warmth of his cum reaching deep inside you.

You didn’t stop moving, though.

Even if your thighs were burning, you kept bouncing on his cock, until his groans of relief turned into desperate whines, until he was whimpering against your chest and digging his short nails on the supple flesh of your buttcheeks.

“P–please…” You heard him whine, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t felt accomplished by the sound. That was when you took pity on him, finally sitting down fully on his lap and stopping your movements.

Chris groaned, exhaling all that air he’d been holding in while you overstimulated him. He threw his head back to rest it on the backrest of the sofa, looking eighty shades of fucked out of his mind. He was breathing heavily–as were you–and he could barely keep his eyes open, but he still let out an incredulous laugh, giving you one of his blinding smiles, making you smile in return.

Cupping your cheeks, he pulled you down for a kiss before he whispered, “I fucking love you”.

And once he said it, you finally let yourself voice those thoughts that had been roaming your mind for a while now, just before you leaned in for another kiss. “I love you, baby”.

By the time you had both thoroughly enjoyed one another, you were too tired to leave your place. So you ordered takeout, got into your comfiest pyjamas, and decided to have your dinner date in the warmth of your home while watching your favourite show together.

Although, to be fair, you didn’t get very far into the show. With your now full stomachs, Chris pulled you into his arms while you both laid on the sofa, softly caressing your hair as he sang to you, inadvertently lulling you to sleep.

This Chan guy was seriously testing your patience.

Every time you tried to get to the Kim kid he’d always be there, he’d always manage to get you to back off. It was starting to hurt your pride, and, even if you were one to avoid killing, you started to genuinely consider taking his life just so he could stop being a nuance.

You’d had three other failed attempts at your task since that fiasco in the cinema, so tonight would hopefully be the day you succeeded. Seungmin was to attend a piano concert at one of the classic theatres his family owned, meaning he’d once again be in a dark, crowded place. There was no hidden room as far as you could tell from your surveillance earlier this week, so that gave you some semblance of peace.

You weren’t sure if it was the fact that this particular job was taking longer than usual to get it over with, or if it was the fact that you kept being forced to retreat by that one bodyguard of Seungmin’s time and time again, but lately you’d been incredibly frustrated, and it seemed like the only way to get that frustration out of your system was to get it fucked out of you. Luckily, even if your boyfriend didn’t know what was going on, he had been giving you exactly what you needed and more any time you asked for it.

The droplets falling down Chris’ pecs and his toned stomach added a delightful shine to his physique, yet you could hardly focus on any of it. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of his cock on your tongue, heavy and warm, the delicious sounds coming out of his mouth and bouncing off of his shower’s walls as you took him in and out of your throat, and the dark, lustful, but somehow still loving look in his eyes.

“Shit… You always tell me how good I am with my mouth… But what about you, baby, huh?” Chris leaned his head back on the tiles, holding your head in place so he could start slowly thrusting into your mouth, making you moan.

You just couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him to fuck you dumb, you needed to further disconnect your mind from reality outside of these walls. So, with a tight grip on the base of his cock, you pulled your mouth off of Chris and started pumping him in your hand, looking him right in the eyes.

“Fuck me”.

Chris just laughed as soon as the words were out of your mouth. He swiftly helped you to your feet so he could turn you around and push your chest against the cold tile wall. “Someone woke up a bit needy today. Hm?”

“And what if I–Fuck…” You completely forgot where your sentence was going as soon as you felt your boyfriend push himself into you, stretching you open just so perfectly all you could do was rest your forehead against the wall when he started to move.

“Maybe you should move in…” Chris attached his lips to your shoulder, kissing and sucking on your skin as his hand found its way towards your front, right between your legs to diligently rub that sweet bud at the apex of your thighs. The mix of his motions between your legs, of the words he mumbled against your skin, and the obscene sound of your wet skin colliding time and time again was steadily clouding your reason, enough to genuinely consider what he was offering. “If you did, we could do this every day, sweetheart…”

“Maybe I should…” You were certainly delirious, there was no way you could live with another person while trying to keep your trade a secret. But the longer you stayed in that shower, relishing the company and precise motions of your boyfriend, the more you wanted to believe it was possible.

Even after he’d coaxed a mind-numbing orgasm out of you, after he’d stuffed you full of his cum, and after he’d helped you dry your hair with the hairdryer he kept in one of the drawers of his bathroom, when you both were getting dressed in his bedroom, you desperately wanted to believe it was possible to have a normal life. Maybe you should start considering retirement… But would you be able to live a civilian life without the thrill of your job? You weren’t too sure. For Chris, though, you might try…

“Come here, bun”, Chris suddenly held your waist and dropped to his bed, bringing you down with him. All you did was laugh, scrambling to find a comfortable position on top of him so you could kiss him.

He was really giggly today, and the sound warmed you up. You dragged your fingers over his still damp curls as you peppered his face with kisses, chuckling with mirth and an immense amount of love for this man that had managed to make you feel a bit normal again.

“Pretty?” Chris tried to get your attention. You just hummed in response to let him know you were listening, but you didn’t stop pressing kisses on his cheek.

With his hands on your waist, he tried to get you to look at him. “Listen, baby. There’s…there’s something I’d like to tell you…”

You finally pulled yourself away a bit, enough to look him in the eyes. He looked incredibly serious, more than you had ever seen him over the course of your relationship, and it gave you pause.

Chris opened his mouth to speak, but before any words came out, the obnoxious ringtone of his phone interrupted him. With a roll of his eyes and an annoyed sigh, he gently pushed you off of him, muttering a ‘Gimme a sec, gotta take this…’

You watched Chris leave the bedroom entirely before you stood up from his bed and continued getting dressed. You could hear your boyfriend’s hushed voice coming from the living room, but you couldn’t make out a single word. Maybe it was for the best, you honestly didn’t like to pry on his private conversations. After all, you’d hate it if he tried to eavesdrop on yours, all things considered.

By the time he was back you had already gotten yourself into a fresh set of clothes. There was a frown on his face, but it quickly disappeared the moment he spotted you by his mirror.

Standing behind you, he placed his hands on your belly, pulling you back towards his chest as he pressed kisses on your neck. You just hummed, watching him through the mirror and melting in his hold.

“Babe”, you mumbled, getting him to open his eyes and look at you through the mirror. He rested his chin on your shoulder, intently listening to you. “What’d you want to tell me?”

Chris took a deep breath, pulling himself away from you to take a hold of your hips once you turned around and looped your arms around his neck. “It’s nothing urgent. Say… What if we go on a little vacation to the coast this weekend?”

“Mmm… A little escapade?” You chuckled, and Chris hummed in response, cupping your cheek with one hand to pull you in for a kiss.

If everything went well tonight, you’d more than appreciate some time to wind down from the entire thing, and spending the entire weekend relaxing, barely even clothed, listening to the waves crashing against the breakwater with Chris sounded like absolute heaven. It’d be like your own little celebration for your win over that insufferable guard dog of Seungmin’s.

“Sounds like a great idea, baby”, you told your boyfriend as soon as his lips detached from yours, smiling brightly at him.

The sound of the piano could be heard perfectly even outside of the theatre. You didn’t know the name of the piece, but it was clear that it was being played by expert hands. Even if you were mostly impassive whenever you fell into your…professional mode, you were still a bit on edge after months of having your plans ruined by Chan, so the melody floating in the air certainly helped soothe you a bit.

The corridors to the main hall were empty, completely quiet save for the sound of the piano bouncing off of the walls. The old construction was a bit difficult to navigate, but you’d gotten well acquainted with the place throughout the past week, so you found your way to the concert hall with ease.

Everything was dark, save for the lights shining on the stage, illuminating the silhouette of the musician sitting on one of the three pianos that’d been set on the podium.

Something felt odd, though.

In an instant, you noticed the emptiness in the hall. The music stopped, replaced by a loud bang and the sound of the bullet hitting the wall, right where your head had been just seconds before your instincts kicked in and you moved away.

It was a trap.

You’d stupidly let them lure you in here, where Seungmin was, very clearly, not even present.

No matter. You might not get your target tonight, but you could still get your peace back.

Chan kept firing at you from the stage, and you continued to expertly dodge his bullets as you swiftly got closer to him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear your father’s voice from back when he was training you, telling you that chasing after someone that wasn’t the one you’d been hired to attack was foolish, that it’d put you at risk. You didn’t care, this was personal now.

Taking one of the knives from your bodice, you threw it in Chan’s direction, just barely missing his form when he ducked out of the way. It felt like it lasted for a long time, you throwing knives at him, and him shooting at you, until you made it to the stage and he had no option but to physically fight you.

He was incredibly agile, but so were you. Especially after having fought him so many times. You’d picked up his tells, how he shifted his weight on his heel before he threw a punch, how he moved slightly to the left when he kicked, so it’d gotten easier to counterattack each and every single one of his moves.

Chan was good at what he did… But you were better.

With a kick to his knee and a push on his chest, you managed to send him to the floor and pin him under you. He tried to move, but you swiftly pressed one of your knives to his neck, effectively stopping his movements.

There was a moment of silence, a moment of you staring down at him, and a moment of him staring up at you.

This was the first time you’d actually gotten to see his face this clearly. There was usually barely any illumination whenever you’d fought before, and both of your quick movements made it easy to miss the details on the exposed areas of your faces. His straight hair pushed off of his forehead–save for one single piece that seemed to always be out of place–gave you plenty of room to see the blue contact lenses he wore. You couldn’t help but wonder if those were simply for aesthetic purposes, or if they held any sort of special tech quality to them–he worked for the Kims, after all.

There was something eerily familiar in the way his eyebrows furrowed, in his eyes, even with the obviously fake blue colour. Whether you were going to kill him or not, you suddenly felt an intense need to see his face. All of it. So, with your free hand, you hooked your finger on the side of his mask so you could pull it off.

For a split second, you couldn’t help but wonder if your eyes were playing a trick on you. Despite the straight hair and the blue contacts, the curve of his lips and the shape of his nose were so distinct there was just no way this man could be anyone else.

You tried to never speak while on the clock. After all, your voice might be a very good indicator of your identity. It might’ve been the shock of seeing such a familiar face, but you really couldn’t help the name from coming out of your mouth, as a barely audible whisper. “…Chris?”

Confusion crossed the features of the man under you. His eyes jumped all over your face–or what could be seen of it, at least. His angry frown turned into a look of shock, mixed with some concern, and you saw his Adam’s apple bob in your peripheral vision when he swallowed, almost audibly.

You still had the knife pressed to his neck, but you were honestly unable to move at all. So much so you didn’t even flinch when he slowly started to move himself.

With a trembling hand, he reached for the black kerchief that covered the lower half of your face. You didn’t stop him, you just let him tug it down to your neck and reveal your face to him.

The sound of your name, coming out as a breathless whisper out of his mouth hurt more than any hit you’d received throughout the past handful of months.

“What the…fuck”, the hurt tone in his voice broke your heart, and you could feel the lump form in your throat. “All this time…?”

“I had no idea”, you couldn’t help the tremble in your voice, and you weren’t sure if you hated yourself for being so vulnerable in front of the enemy. But then again, he wasn’t only an enemy, he was also the man you’d fallen madly in love with.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to get to Seungmin?” His voice trembled, yet neither of you dared to move further.

“I was hired to do it”, you replied simply.

“By whom?”

“I won’t tell you… I…can’t”, you could feel them. The treacherous tears that pricked your eyes… Crying in front of the enemy was unheard of, but you supposed these weren’t normal circumstances.

Chris swallowed again, and you could see tears of his own well in his eyes. “So…what now, bun?”

The sound of the pet name coming out of his mouth fully obliterated the remaining pieces of your heart, and you couldn’t stop the tears from falling anymore. So you didn’t. “I–I don’t know…”

“You should kill me”, Chris said, very confidently, without any semblance of doubt in his voice. And even though your grip on the knife tightened, you didn’t move it, you just shook your head in response, trying to contain the sob that threatened to come out of your mouth.

“You should”, he repeated after a few moments of silence. “I’ve done…many horrible things in my life. I’ve killed people, tortured people… I’ve done it proudly, too”, Chris brought a hand to your wrist, holding it gently, but firmly. “I’ve made peace with all that a long, long time ago… But knowing I’ve spent months hurting the woman I love is something I can’t live with…”

“You didn’t know”, your hand started to tremble, too, and Chris’ hold on your wrist tightened to keep it steady.

“Doesn’t matter”, finally, tears started to fall from Chris’ eyes, and his voice broke a bit when he spoke to you. “I wanted you dead. Even if I didn’t know, I was trying to kill you”.

You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly.

Maybe, if you closed them hard enough, you’d realise this was all a dream, a horrible nightmare you could still wake up from.

“Why don’t you kill me instead?” You mumbled after a while, when you finally opened your eyes. “I, too, was trying to kill the man that I love…”

“I can’t stop protecting Seungmin. I won’t stop. I’m the only thing keeping you from reaching your target, pretty. Look at us…” Chris’ thumb softly caressed your wrist, right on the sliver of skin your gloves exposed. “Look at our positions. You know you already won”.

You shook your head again, and Chris pushed on your wrist, further digging the blade into his skin as he mumbled, “Do it…”

He was right, you had the upper hand. Logically, it made sense for you to kill him, but there was no way you would. What a selfish thing for him to ask… Did he think getting to Seungmin was more important than his own life? That you’d be fine just…taking it?

Yanking your wrist out of his grip, you threw your knife to the side, as far away from you as possible. Chris just looked at you, confused, hurt, and you just couldn’t bear to see that look in his eyes. In an instant, you were standing, finally getting off of him.

“Baby…” You mumbled, trying to steady the sound of your voice. You turned your back to him, unable to look at him any longer. “I’m sorry… I don’t think I’ll make it to our vacation this weekend”.

With that, you started walking, trying to get as far away from that stage as possible.

The last thing you heard before you left the theatre altogether was the cacophony of sounds produced by what you knew to be the erratic smashing of piano keys, a complete contrast to the soothing melody you’d been listening to when you came in here… That soothing melody that you now knew was being played by Chan, by Chris, by your biggest rival who turned out to also be the love of your life.

As you left, with tears in your eyes, with your heart shattered in your chest, you realised that this was the first time you’d truly lost. There had been no room for you to win since the very beginning.

Part 1 (you're here!) | Part 2 >

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benedictscanvas · 1 year

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could you possibly do a benedict bridgerton friends to lovers fic with maybe some jealousy thrown in there? i adore your writing 🫶🏻

this request could not have come at a better time! i finally started my bridgerton rewatch recently and i can feel myself sparking with ideas yet again :) || 2k words, tw benedict is PINING & this is much more suggestive than my usual content, so 18+ please!

can't bear it - benedict bridgerton x reader

He looked bored. It was the first thing you noticed upon entering the ballroom and, in truth, it was often the first thing you noticed upon entering any ballroom. Over your years of friendship, it seemed you had a highly trained eye to seek him out amongst any crowd.

Just as your eyes strayed to him, as if he had similar training, his found you. What had been a dull stare at the ground to avoid any accidental eye contact with the Mamas scattered about the room quickly became a bright and excitable gaze locked to yours and you returned his slow-spreading smile with a rather unladylike grin.

"Hi," he mouthed, a grin of his own now twisting his features. You shook your head at him fondly, biting the inside of your cheek in a foolish attempt to stop your grin from growing any wider.

You were lucky to have a sister with whom your mother was preoccupied. It made it easy to hurry along the sides of the ballroom, exchanging nods with those you passed without stopping to greet them properly, to end up next to Benedict in record time.

You stood side by side, your usual routine, the backs of your hands inches apart but both facing outwards, as if surveying the rest of the room. Each one of your senses was entirely tuned into him as soon as you entered his presence, but it would not look as such to any onlookers.

"You'll start more rumours if you keep trying to communicate across such wide distances, Lord Bridgerton," you began, eyes fixed on the twirling couples so you didn't sneak a glance in his direction, "I thought we were attempting to rid ourselves of the clamours for our engagement."

"They can hardly read into a mere greeting," he responded easily, the words a mere murmur from the corner of his mouth, "I am a gentleman, as you know, and it would be impolite to simply ignore you."

"It would. You couldn't ignore me if you tried, anyway," you mused, "You'd get ever so bored."

"Always so self-important."

His mutter makes you bite back a smirk. Perhaps facing away from each other did nothing to hide your obvious conversation after all. Violet would be sure to notice, you knew, and may once again force Benedict into explaining the lack of proposal between the two of you.

In recent weeks, however, you had been struggling to explain it to yourself. Benedict was so dear to you, so utterly different to the men that regularly bored you, that once you had struck up such unlikely friendship, it seemed you valued it far too much to take it any further.

That, and there had never been any indication that Benedict himself saw marital potential within you. He was by no means a shy man. If he wanted you, you were quite sure he would have swept you off your feet by now.

And what a sweeping it would be, in those strong arms barely concealed by the crisp white shirt, billowing fabric...

"Good evening, Miss Y/L/N," a voice broke you from your spell, and your gaze accidentally drifted to Benedict in surprise before landing on the man interrupting you, "I believe I was promised a dance last we met, and I have heard you are a lady of your word."

You had to fight to keep yourself from frowning as you wracked your brains for his name. Unfortunately, you came up entirely empty and had no choice but to respond vaguely.

"I certainly would not like to gain a reputation for breaking promises," you smiled as taught, taking in handsome features and arms that didn't fill in a shirt nearly as well as Benedict's. You shook that thought from your head as you placed your hand in the unnamed stranger's own, "It would be an honour."

There was a splutter to your left, no doubt Benedict struggling to conceal his amusement at the sudden change in your tone. You allowed the man to lead you to the dance floor, turning subtly to send Benedict a wry smile but finding him staring right through you, expression anything but amused.

It wiped the smile clean off your own face.

His face was thunder throughout your dance, you noticed, however much you tried to focus on the pleasantly mundane conversation provided by your new partner. He really was quite good looking, if only you could appreciate it, but you were entirely preoccupied by Benedict's new foul mood and what could have caused it.

As the dance ended, you bowed politely to your captor, which was the only word that came to mind for him, and hurried in the direction of your favourite friend only to find him gone. This time you did frown, despite your mother's warnings of wrinkles, and picked up your skirt lightly as you slipped out of the ballroom.

Searching side room after side room proved useful. You soon found what could be described as a studio, with large windows to let the light in but currently only cast moonlight across the canvases spread around the room. The moon also lit up half of Benedict, who was stood at the window, staring out into the gardens.

"Be prepared to hide under that desk if anyone should come knocking," you said, startling him as you clicked the door shut behind you, "I shan't let you compromise my honour just because I have to chase after you when you're having a tantrum."

He glowered at you at the mention of a tantrum, the kind of look he usually levelled his brothers with rather than you. It was new territory and you found yourself quickly floundering.

"I did not bid you to follow me."

"And yet here I am," you reminded, taking a tentative step, "So why don't you put a stop to this strange mood and tell me what's wrong?"

"I'd rather not," he said curtly, his voice a little wrong as he turned to face you at last. Were those tears? "Please return to the festivities and I will join you momentarily."

You'd never seen Benedict cry before. In fact, you weren't sure you'd ever seen a man cry in your life, and the sight was terrifying. You wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in a long overdue embrace, but you kept yourself stock still in the middle of the room.

"Benedict..." you began, not sure where you were going despite the plea in your voice, "Please. I have never seen you like this."

He laughs, but its harsh.

"You must not be very observant then, Y/N."

"I beg your pardon?"

"In fact, you must be positively blind. Maddeningly so. How do you ever get anything done?"

You could feel tears of your own welling up in your eyes and blinked them away furiously. It was a great effort to keep your voice level when you spoke.

"I have known you to be many things, Bridgerton, but you are not cruel. I am sure I have done nothing to deserve such vehement insult, so-"

"I quite disagree," he interrupted, face fierce as he stalked over to you until he was right in front of you. Your chest heaved as you looked up at him, eyes wide, and felt the rise of his chest almost against your own, "You are observant, Y/N, and far from blind. It is your cruelty at fault here, not mine. It is yours."

He hissed the last word, pointing a finger at you so close to your chest that your head was spinning. His closeness was intoxicating, his scent crowding you out of enough oxygen and his words were making you lightheaded with panic.

"You're not making any sense," you murmured. His fingertips ghosted across the fabric of your dress near your hips, barely there, and nowhere near the skin underneath.

"You must see it," he mutters back, all gritted teeth and barely concealed restraint, "You must see that I worship you. That I always have."

Your inhale sounded more like a gasp. He shook his head above you, moving closer until his chin was pressed hard into your temple and you keened into the touch.

"I know you do not feel the same. And you are not obligated to, I swear it. But taunting me as you do. Playing with me only to dance with another..." he trails off, breath shuddering, and you can hear those tears in his voice again, "I can't bear it. Please, Y/N, I cannot bear it."

Neither can you.

You reach up and take his face in both hands, finding chiseled cheekbones and jawline, thumbs either side of his lips as you pull him until you can look up into his face again. Your gaze flickers across his face, and you wipe the tears from his face with shaking fingers.

"You're blind, Benedict," you say, leaning up on your tiptoes until your lips brush his, soft, like the ghost of his fingertips against fabric. You know what you want him to do and you need him to do it first, need him to take your lead and run away with it.

When he fists his hands in your dress at your hips and drags you into him, your prayers are answered.

He opens your mouth to his, still gentle but insistent, demanding more, more, more of you. You'd give him everything, right here, mainly because you know he'd never take it. He seems more than content with the here and now as it is, especially when your hands slip into his hair and he lets out a low grumble of a moan that you feel everywhere.

He's trying to pull you closer still when you break for air, gasping it in as the two of you pant into each other's mouths. He runs a hand down your hair, your neck, your arm, until he intertwines his fingers with yours, chases your lips for a peck, then another, then another. You meet him with a lazy grin.

"I dance with the Lords of the ton every ball," you breathe out, "I'd have noticed if you reacted like this every time."

Benedict was grinning too. He looked far more like himself when he did.

"They are usually old, ugly fools," he said, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the thought, "I always hate them having their hands all over you, but watching a young charming bastard who may just have a chance with you hold you as I have always dreamed of doing? It was enough."

"He never had a chance, my Lord," you assured, tracing his hairline, his earlobe just to see him shiver, "You are, as already accused, blissfully blind. Blind as a bat, I should think."

"Recent developments would suggest that to be true," he mused, glowing in a way he wouldn't usually when wrong. Then, all too quickly, his face briefly fell, "I truly apologise for all that I said to you, Y/N. There is no excuse, it was cruel."

"Hm," you agreed, "It was. Although, I can think of a multitude of ways you can make it up to me. Would you care to hear them?"

His eyes lit up at the realisation of your teasing. It was familiar, exactly what had drawn you both to each other time and time again. It was likely what would keep you together for eternity.

"I would like nothing more."

"How about I sit right up here..." you began lowly, moving to take a seat on the desk, "-you sit yourself underneath this desk, and we can have a conversation about compromising my honour."

You grinned at him wolfishly. It looked almost as if his eyes rolled back into his head already, but it wasn't long until he was kneeling in front of you, hands on the hem of your dress.

"And what would you know about compromising your honour, Miss Y/L/N?"

You ran a hand through his hair and used it to roughly yank him forward, until his nose was pressed to the fabric of your dress, exactly where you wanted him. It was easy to see it now, as he stared up at you in total awe: the way he worshipped you.

"Let's find out, shall we?"

if you’d like to request something, please do so here! i’d love to hear from you, sunflower <3

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction

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svthub · 10 months

Text

welcome to the disco! choose your partner for a whirl around the dance floor to the grooviest tracks today. get funky as you boogie the night away.

This collab will contain a combination of SFW and NSFW works. See each individual fic for tags and warnings.

Join the 70s;teen taglist!

dancing queen ~*~ @duhnova

[NSFW] smut, fluff, tiny bit of angst ~*~ disco club owner!choi seungcheol x performer!reader (fem)

the stage is where you felt the most comfortable, letting go and singing for everyone that would sit and listen. but it was hard making a living in america, every corner you turned there was trouble waiting for you because you were too comfortable with your sexuality for the public’s liking. so when you stepped off the ship that took you to your new life in paris, you were surprised to collide with a disco club owner who was in a similar boat as you.

every summertime ~*~ @lovelyhan

[NSFW] smut ~*~ jeonghan x reader

you're not really interested in the run-down record shop back in your hometown. but people aren't oblivious to the way you keep trying to get into the owner's pants—not even the owner himself.

curse the stars ~*~ @shuadotcom

[NSFW] smut, fluff, strangers to lovers au, 70s au~*~ salesman!joshua x starlet afab!reader

meeting someone at the disco to take home for the night is customary for you, especially in your line of work. but meeting this man on this night at this disco feels more like fate as joshua becomes much more than just your routine one night stand.

do re mi ~*~ @onlymingyus

[NSFW] fluff, smut~*~ junhui x wife!reader

synopsis: you were from different worlds. he was responsible, frugal, and sensible. you were a child of the times, a free spirit. the house had problems and it was small, but at the end of the day it was home…you were home.

with the band ~*~ @the-boy-meets-evil

[NSFW] band!au, smut, angst ~*~ drummer!soonyoung x journalist!reader (afab)

you’re fresh out of college with big dreams about changing the world with your words on a page. the last thing you expect is to end up covering a tour and you certainly don’t expect to fight falling for the drummer. what happens on tour, stays on tour, right?

rogue ~*~ @smileysuh

[NSFW] strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut ~*~ wonwoo x afab reader

“lay back,” he instructs next. “I’m going to take your panties off.” your heart races in your chest as you realize what he’s about to do, and you fall onto your elbows on the hood of his car, breathing heavily as wonwoo leans down and begins to press kisses up your bare legs. his fingers hook in your panties, and he drags them down, exposing your hot core to the cool evening air. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you, and as wonwoo positions your thighs over his broad shoulders, you think you might actually faint from the tension.

all about that bass ~*~ @angelwoozi

[NSFW] fluff, smut, band!au, neighbour au ~*~ bassist!jihoon x reader (afab)

the first time you meet your neighbour, it's when he is rolling up to his driveway for the first time, the cheapest skates with him. after that, you always try to get a peek of him when you hear his door slam, because oh my my he is so cute. little did you know that your cute neighbour can also work a crowd like he owns it, all with his bass and his presence.

manhattan sunrise ~*~ @seokgyuu

[NSFW] detective!au, criminal minds! au, crime, exes to lovers, angst, smut ~*~ detective!seokmin x fbiagent!reader

lee seokmin is a very successful and admired detective in the NYPD. pp until now he has had no trouble catching the bad guys. but when an especially horrific serial killer starts roaming the streets of new york city and he faces perplexity for the first time in his career - his superiors send a unit from the FBI trained to profile serial killers, which contains none other than you - seokmin’s high school sweetheart.

tight laced ~*~ @drunk-on-dk

[NSFW] fluff, smut, roller rink au ~*~ shop clerk!mingyu x afab!reader

it was kim mingyu who sold you your first pair of roller skates. regardless of the fact you were born with two left feet, a tired student, and were running low on funds, the charming clerk somehow convinced you it would be worth every penny. maybe it would be worth it to join your friends for midnight skates rather than being cooped up studying on weekends. however, the main selling point? skating lessons were included

darling i’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream • @dkakapizzaboy

[NSFW] crime, mystery, suggestive ~*~ conman! minghao x fem! reader

minghao has had a pretty easy life…partly due to his sharp looks, but mostly due to his even sharper mind. his day job, you ask? oh, just your average little joe conning wealthy women out of thousands of dollars …until he meets you.

aretha franklin and otis redding ~*~ @wonwussy

[SFW] angst, fluff ~*~ seungkwan

your brother had been labeled mia soon after he left for the war. three years later, the war has ended, and you know he's not coming home. maybe this stranger can help you find a little peace.

remember when ~*~ @multi-kpop-fanfics

[NSFW] fluff, comedy, angst, suggestive, childhood friends to lovers to exes to friends ~*~ vernon x fem!reader

growing up in the suburbs of athens during the seventies was turbulent to say the least - but is it turbulent enough to break the backyard trio friendship? only time could tell.

mood rings, drive thru theaters, and the latest issue of tiger beat ~*~ @bitchlessdino

[NSFW] angst, smut, fluff ~*~ lee chan x college student!reader (afab)

when you fall in love, it can feel like you’ll be with that person forever, that there isn’t another being in the world you rather be with. This case is just as heavy in your youth, tutoring a boy you’ve only ever walked circles around, while you wear a mood ring from his parents souvenir shop so you could feel closer to him. When it happens, you don’t expect things to crash harder than the way they do.

#svthub #svthub.collab #70s;teen #svthub: masterlist

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demontobee · 10 months

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Nightingales and Romeo and Juliet in Good Omens S2E6

I’ve been thinking about the many symbolisms of the nightingale since the end of S1, but especially since the whole “That’s the point. No nightingales” conversation between Crowley and Aziraphale at the end of S2. Nightingales feature in a lot of literary texts symbolizing a whole bunch of things, but I found this particularly interesting:

In Romeo and Juliet (you know, the play where two star-crossed lovers from rivalling families try to overcome all boundaries in the name of love), there is a scene (Act 3, Scene 5) where Romeo and Juliet have a conversation (or a little row/misunderstanding) about nightingales and larks. It is the night/morning after their secret marriage (!) and Romeo has to leave before the morning comes. Otherwise he will be in great danger as he might get caught by Juliet’s relatives. Juliet, who does not want him to leave yet, argues that the bird that they hear singing outside the window is a nightingale. Since nightingales sing by night, she hopes that this will convince Romeo that it is still night and thus make him stay a bit longer. Romeo, on the other hand, is convinced that it is a lark, a bird of dawn, that is singing, which would mean that he has to leave soon. When Romeo suddenly states that he does not care if he will be killed or not and that he wants to stay with Juliet, Juliet caves in and explains that the bird they hear is actually a lark and that Romeo has to flee.

So, a few things to point out here:

It is the night after their “secret marriage”

The nightingale is a night bird whose song indicates darkness and a world asleep, which protects forbidden love from being found out

Juliet does not want to face the harsh reality of the day approaching, which is why she tries to convince Romeo that they are hearing a nightingale while, in fact, a lark is singing, indicating danger

When her lover unexpectedly declares that he wants to stay with her, even at the risk of losing his own life, she tells the truth in an attempt to usher him out to save his life

Okay, back to Good Omens:

It is the morning after The Dance™ (you know, the one Aziraphale organized only to be able to make a move on Crowley and dance with him; the one during which Crowley tried to open Aziraphale’s eyes to the dangerous situation they were in while Aziraphale refused to give up on his little fantasy-bubble of love and romance). Aziraphale tries to convince Crowley to go back to heaven with him. We don’t know exactly what went on in the conversation between him and the Metatron, but there was probably some threat involved, which means Aziraphale thinks that they will both be safe(r) in heaven. In a way, he is the Juliet in the situation, trying to make his Romeo stay/come with him by convincing him that the nightingale is still singing – that they can still be safe that way. Like the night before, he does not (or at least does not seem to) realize the danger they are in and will be in and that heaven will never let them be “an us”. He does not want to part with Crowley. Crowley, on the other hand, knows exactly that going to heaven is not an option for him and he understands that they are in danger. His statement, “that’s the point. No nightingales,” means that the protection of the metaphorical night, the indifference of heaven and hell concerning their situationship, is over, and that they can either flee together or have to part. Aziraphale, judging by his expression, seems to understand what Crowley is implying here. This seems to be where his parallels with Juliet end, since he does not agree with Crowley in the end. However, there is a version of events that would make his actions similar to Juliet’s in the end: Assuming that Aziraphale knows that one of the two options to keep Crowley safe(r) is out since he knows that Crowley will never agree to going back to heaven, his only other option is to ensure Crowley leaves without him (and without the impression that he needs to save Aziraphale and their relationship). He does this by driving him out if the bookshop.

In any case, the nightingale seems to symbolize the temporary safety of their forbidden love, and Crowley’s statement at the end signals the end of this precious period, and that they must part (for now).

#good omens #good omens s2 #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #crowley x aziraphale #neil gaiman #go2 #good omens 2 #romeo and juliet #no nightingales #nightingales #thank you neil gaiman #shakespeare

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chvnnie · 1 year

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Deserving

han jisung x reader

word count: 3k

genre: smut — MINORS DNI

warnings: switch!jisung, switch!reader, mentions of alcohol, smoking (cigarettes — jisung), mentions of weed, jisung gets slapped, kinda enemies to lovers to kinda friends to lovers???, jisung refers to reader as his “property”, dirty talk, unprotected sex, mutual orgasms, rough but ✨sweet✨ and really i think that’s it? if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: is there really much of a difference between hate and love?

a/n: if y’all have any issues, take it up with @j14sung!!! it’s all her fault!!! also no breath play? in one of MY fics? what is happening

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents han jisung as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @woahfruity, @hugs4chan, @stranger-thighs, @beautifulcolorgarden, @scottmcallisdaddy, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @humayraaaa, @americanokisses, @djeniryuu, @epiphanynaffit

The back patio’s railing really needs to be replaced. White paint falling off in mid sized chips, shudders in even the lightest breeze. This has to be a safety hazard; it’s shocking the fraternity hasn’t been fined for this.

So when Jisung leans against it, the creak of the wood can be heard over the heavy bass of the music. He flinches slightly, praying that tonight is not the night it decides to crumble. Once he realizes that he is stable, his shoulders relax, digging in his jacket pocket for the half empty pack of cigarettes.

He’s really not much of a smoker; the smell lingers, making all of his clothes smell like the mistakes he continues to make. Still, when he’s a little drunk, he can’t help but reach for the crutch. Placing the stick between his lips, cupping the flame so the wind doesn’t blow it out. One click, two click, three — god, he needs a new lighter. Can you tell how often he smokes?

It’s necessary for tonight. Jisung can’t face the idea of going back inside that party without a little buzz. Something to distract him from the fact that you showed up.

You were expected to show up. The circles you run in are so similar. If Jisung is invited, chances are, you are too. That’s not really the issue.

The issue is the goddamn mini skirt you walked in wearing. The issue is the thin strapped crop top that’s so tight, he can tell you’re not wearing a bra. The issue is that fucking silver waist chain, decorated with pretty metal hearts. Hugging your hips perfectly.

The issue is that you didn’t come to the party alone.

From the back patio, Jisung looks through the kitchen window. All of these people, most friends of his or at least friendly to him, careless. Happy. Not worried about a single thing, dancing and drinking like the night isn’t going to end.

Like he’s not shivering outside. A scowl fixed on his face as he watches you and this guy pass the window, in search of the bottle of vodka you like.

Fuck. This cigarette isn’t enough to numb this shit.

Stubbing it out with his boot, Jisung decides to go back inside. Maybe he’ll play pong with Lix, or smoke with Changbin. There has to be something inside to distract him. Navigating the crowd, he barely gets into the packed living room before there’s a hand on his arm, halting him from going any further.

“There you are.” A sickening sweet voice says, and he has to close his eyes so she doesn’t see him roll his eyes. “I’ve been looking for you!”

Someone from his chem class. Not very notable; she’s pretty, sure. Smart, though she always seems to be asking him for help with the easiest assignments. He doesn’t really care for her. Voice grating, her interest overwhelming. But that made her easy. All he had to mention was the fact that he was going to be driving past her place, and she was begging for a ride on his bike.

It was timed perfectly; Jisung’s motorcycle “conveniently” parked outside of the lit building. Right where you have class on Thursdays, ending at noon. The same time his chem class gets out. There was no way you could miss him putting an extra helmet on the girl.

Especially considering the way he wet his lips. Smiled. Waved at you. Making sure that you saw the girl get on his bike. The look of annoyance and distaste was so satisfying. Jealousy. God, it looked so good on you.

Was it worth it, though? Jisung was sure that move would be the end of this back and forth game the two of you have been playing — that you would reach your limit, lash out. How dare he take another girl on his motorcycle? What kind of fucking player flirts with you nonstop just to turn around and get another girl wrapped around his finger?

Or, at least, that’s how he expected you to react. He never thought you would retaliate.

Pulling his arm out of the girl’s hold, he glances down at her. Bored expression on his face. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I thought we could dance a little.” She moves in front of him, inching closer and closer until her body is practically pressed against hers. “Maybe you could take me for another ride—“

Over her shoulder, he sees you. Leaning against the wall in the corner, sparkly eyes staring at the guy who stole you. He has a hand resting by your head, leaned down. Whispering something to you that makes you laugh.

Oh, come on. That guy? You can’t seriously think he’s funny.

He barely hears the girl continue to go on, telling him all the things they could do when they get back to his place.

“Look.” Finally, he makes eye contact. “I’m not interested.”

She looks almost shocked, as if he hasn’t been fully checked out of the conversation the entire time. “What? But—“

“All I did was give you a ride. I don’t want to fuck you; don’t you think you would have seen my sheets sooner if I had?”

A hand strikes his face, hard. The rings making his cheek sting. Head turned to the side, he hisses in pain, temper rising like the color of his cheeks.

“Fuck you, Han Jisung.”

Fine. Maybe he earned it. He did use her. But what he thinks is really unnecessary?

The fact that you saw the whole thing. Smile on your face as you huff a laugh. Lips parting, mouthing something to him.

Deserved.

It’s like rubbing salt in a wound, the way you grip this guy’s jacket. Pulling his body into yours before you tilt your head back slightly, and bring your lips to his.

All the hard work he did to numb himself, the jealousy, the possession, the anger, fades in less than a second. A dull warmth climbs up his body rapidly, the blood vibrating beneath the skin. The entire party fades, silence replacing the joy. The fast, steady sound of his heartbeat the only thing Jisung can hear.

That, and the sound of his footsteps.

Just like you, Jisung grabs the guy’s jacket. Expect from the back, and not to kiss him. With an unnecessary amount of force, he pulls him off of you, shoving the taller man to the side.

Before you can even say anything, he glares at you. “Enough.”

The sounds of that fucking asshole’s protest are nothing more than an annoying buzz. Like the sound of a fly, something easily drowned out as Jisung grabs you by your wrist. Pulling you out of the party and onto the back patio.

It still smells like cigarettes outside. When the backdoor slams shut, your body is pressed against it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Jisung—“

“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice has dropped a few octaves, a foreign sound to the both of you. “Who was that?”

God, you’re so annoying. Giving him the exact the same he gave you when he put that girl on his bike. You’re so fucking pretty. “What, you can give desperate girls a ride but I can’t bring another guy to the party?”

“Oh, you can.” Jisung agrees, nodding his head though his face is still cold. “But to let him touch you?”

“You don’t—“

“He’s lucky I didn’t fucking break his jaw.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “I’m not your property, Jisung.”

It’s his turn to laugh. Low, chilling. Tongue in cheek as he smiles at you. “Yes, you fucking are.”

He waits. Bracing himself for another slap to his already sore, possibly bruising cheek. After all, it is what you think he deserves. Instead your eyes drop to his lips, lingering only for a brief second before they flicker back up.

“Take me back inside.”

The two of you barely get upstairs before your bodies are twisting together; Jisung’s hands in your hair as you let your head fall back. Tongue rubbing against your own, sweet moans filling his mouth.

Neither of you know who’s room you’ve stumbled into. Does it even matter? Your body is against his, the smell of your perfume giving him the buzz he’s been chasing all fucking night. The world around Jisung doesn’t exist when you’re his entirety.

“I’m so sick of you.” You gasp, pulling your lips from his. Hands eagerly slipping under his jacket, you shove it off from the shoulders. “You’re so arrogant—“

“Yeah?” He huffs out, smirking when you shiver from his touch. Chilled hands under your pathetic excuse for a top, pushing the fabric up. “What else?”

“You’re an ass.” His shirt is next, buttons hardly hanging by a thread as you yank it open. “So fucking entitled—“

“Mm, I am.” Teeth nipping at your jaw, thumbs flicking over your nipples. Under his touch, he can feel your goosebumps rising. His touch driving you just as insane as you drive him constantly.

“Y-you—“ it’s getting harder to speak; his touch making you melt despite your best efforts not to. “You are such—“

When he looks up at you, you’re rendered speechless. Every strong opinion you’ve ever had of him fizzling away, extinguished by his gaze. Brown eyes blown out, darkened with lust and loss of control. But something. Something about the way he’s looking at you.

Jisung first met you in algebra. The first day of freshman year, in that class that started before the sun even fully rose. Three days a week, ninety minutes. Far too much time spent in a prerequisite class.

You were the last student to arrive, forced into the remaining empty seat at the back of the class. Right next to Jisung. Your hair was still wet, a pimple patch stuck on your left cheek.

Ever since, he was helplessly in awe of you.

Almost four years have passed, and he still looks at you the way he did when you first met. When he pretended to lose his pencil just to talk to you. When he would wake up earlier than necessary just so he would be the first face you would see when you arrived. All this time, and he’s always looked at you the same as he did when he fell for you.

It’s just taken you this long to realize it.

“I hate you.” You whisper, though the taste those words leave are disgustingly bitter.

Jisung gives you a lazy smile, not convinced even in the slightest. “Take off your fucking skirt.”

He makes you keep the waist chain on. The second your skirt falls to the ground, he’s yanking off your panties, sitting down on the end of the bed before making you straddle his lap. Lips catching yours, he keeps one hand on your hip, twisting the chain around his fingers, while the other slides down your back. Grazing over your ass, riding up the side of your thigh. Memorizing your body with his fingertips as a path is drawn to your core.

He moans louder than you when he starts to trace your folds. The slick makes it easy to feel you, taking his time rubbing from your clit to your entrance. Your fingers are tangled in his hair, tugging lightly when he starts to circle your hole.

“So wet.” Jisung mumbles against your lips. “Is this what I do to you, pretty?”

If time has taught you anything, it’s that he’s nothing but a tease. The circles are slow, hardly pressing down. Giving you just enough pleasure to make you whimper without actually entering you. Over and over he traces the shapes, not satisfied until you’re whining his name.

And then, he takes it all away from you. Moving his hand before you can grind down on it, chuckling when you yank at his strands in protest. He was so close, you fucking asshole. Why would you—

Jisung shushes you, bringing the pretty whines to an end as he pushes the wet fingers into your mouth. “Stop fussing. Let me play.”

You should bite his fingers. Take the control that rightly belongs to you. You’re not to be toyed with like this — but there’s a reason why you never fully pushed him away. Why you dealt with the torment, the push and pull, why you never told him no.

When he looks at you like he is now, starry eyed in wonder, there’s a feeling that only he gives you. One that’s been sought out, but never replicated. Only Jisung can make you fall hopelessly with just a look.

With a nod, your tongue works around his fingers. Lapping them clean, letting the weight on your tongue soothe you. Bringing you a peace you’ve been longing for since the day you met him.

“That’s my girl.” He mumbles, pushing his fingers back a little further. Stopping only when you gag around them, twitching in his lap. “So good for me.”

He lets go of your chain, working on the button of his jeans while you’re occupied. Once satisfied, he eases the fingers out of your mouth, entranced with the way drool clings from them to your lips. He takes the hand to his now freed cock, working the spit and slick mixture over his length.

Your eyes followed each movement, watching the slow motion of his fist. It’s almost shameful for you to admit how long you’ve been thinking about this moment — what he would look like. Taste like. Bigger than you expected, a girth that makes the breath catch in your throat.

Jisung catches your staring. “What, baby?” He coos in almost a condescending way. “Want my cock?”

God, there’s only so much more you can take of his incessant teasing. Rolling your eyes, you place your hands on his chest and push him, forcing him onto his back. Jisung tries to sit back up, but you keep one hand firm between his ribs while the other grabs his cock. Tugging with a firmer grip that he was allowing himself, causing his head to roll back and Adam’s apple to bob.

“Stop fussing.” You mock his earlier words, positioning yourself over his length. “Let me play.”

It’s almost too fast. Sinking down fully without giving yourself a proper chance to stretch. The sting runs up your legs, making your lower stomach ache where the tip hits. Your lips are parted, a breathy gasp overshadowing Jisung’s deep moans. His hands come to your hips, nails digging into your skin and fingers lacing through the waist chain.

“Fuck.” His voice could be a growl, head heavy as he looks up. Staring at where you’re sat on his cock. “Goddamn, baby, you feel so good.”

Dizzy from the pain, room spinning from the need, you use the hand planted on his chest to lift yourself up. Almost allowing yourself to get to the tip before slamming back down, skin slapping against skin. It’s not enough — falling into a pattern of slow upwards, but quick downwards. Teasing and chasing at the same time.

Jisung helps by lifting your hips, taking the exhaustion off your shoulders so you both can enjoy.

“I like the way you look underneath me.” You chuckle, words broken by pants. “It’s cute.”

He bites his lip and smiles, pinching your hips hard enough to make you yelp. “Don’t get used to it.”

Walls fluttering around his cock, heart bursting from your chest at the implication. Knowing this won’t be the last makes it even better, driving you to move faster and faster.

Moans have to be heard on the first floor, both of your throats turning raw as you cry into the unfamiliar bedroom. Jisung has started to us his hips, tongue between his teeth as he fucks into you roughly.

Stars are starting to dance in your field of vision, an ache in your core spreading through your body. It tingles your toes, shakes your thighs. Body almost falling limp at the yet to come.

“T-tell me.” You say, gasping when Jisung hits the perfect spot.

His brows furrow, sitting up on his elbows. He’s close, too — the tremble of his lip is a dead give away. “What? Tell you what—“

“Who—“ your nails dig into his chest, eyes squinting shut as tears start to sting them. Everything. Everything is fuzzy, and he is solid ground. “Who you belong to—“

“Fuck. I’m all yours.” He groans, barely letting you finish your request before he responds. It’s so easy for him to say, giving into your every wish. “I’ve a-always been, baby.”

With his words, you crumble. The ache overbearing, making your body start to fall slack. Jisung is quick to pull you into his arms, chest to chest as the rhythm of his hips slow. Working you through your orgasm and bringing him to the apex of his.

He smells like sweat, cigarettes, and oaky cologne. His hands are soft as they rub soothing circles on your back, lips feather light against your shoulders. When your name leaves his lips it’s like a hymn; your praises filling the heavens and earth.

“Okay?” You ask Jisung breathlessly.

His laugh could outshine the sun. “More than.” Having grown used to his cold, teasing demeanor, it’s almost as if you’re with a different person completely. The soft, gentle side of him blooming for the first time. Only because you were there to help it flourish. “You?”

“‘kay.” You mumble, nuzzling into his neck. “Better than, actually.”

A hum in response, more kisses to you shoulder. The party carries on beneath your feet, buzzing with excitement. Not a care for the world around them, no attention paid to what’s happening beyond their little bubbles.

Like Jisung isn’t in a perfect state of peace, the heat of your body helping ground him to reality. You’re here. You’re his. What does he need to numb?

When you turn your head, you accidentally bump into him. Tip of your head hitting his swollen cheek, the pain making him groan. You apologize profusely, cupping his face and kissing the now bluish marks left by rings.

That. That could use some numbing.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #han smut #jisung smut

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generalsdiary · 5 months

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confessions under the moon

gn!reader x Dan Heng (Imbibitor Lunae and his usual form as well)

warnings: none

word count: 1k

a/n: inspired by the japanese saying (explained at the end)

description: sharing feelings under the moonlight on a new planet (fluff with a side of angst)

"the moon is beautiful, isn't it?" you say while admiring it.

"ye-" Dan Heng stops his words. turning his head in shock and surprise to you, his cyan eyes seeking your face for any trace of further explanation.

being well educated and a lover of research he knew a lot about this planet, called Earth. he recalls reading in the data bank information specific to this planet and this quite random fact. people of Earth would say those words to say they love someone - as a secret, an intimate 'I love you'.

he blushes sightly, finding himself speechless, looking to the ground. it takes over all of his thoughts, by losing his focus his vidyadhara form and its features bleed through and show themselves once more. the dark long hair, translucent tail, and tall dragon horns, along with the pointy ears. eyes shining blue as he observes you. were you aware of what those words meant? surely you were, you are a clever one, and claim to know lots of Earth's hidden facts - that he kindly asked you to, at some point, put into the data bank (yeah... he is still waiting on you to do that.)

finding words within himself, he questions.

"where did you find-... read that?" he wishes to check if you know what you said.

"read what?" you keep your eyes on the night sky, and it is slowly obvious that you're playing oblivious, or something of the similar sort.

he calls out your name, with a hint of sternness, a tad more seriousness in his voice than usual.

you smile slightly to yourself when your name is called in such a way, you turn your head to look at him, his true form bringing a smile to your face. finding it sad when he always hides, like he is ashamed of it, or not accustomed.

you meet his eyes, it isn't forced, and you're not trying to communicate, both gazing. he looks away and into the moon, and you notice the small exhale he does as the cooler air shifts and forms the smoke-like breath leaving his lips. his hand very gently meets yours, taking it in his, intervening fingers.

you know what you said, it is obvious, it is also coy and sneaky and could've fallen easily under the radar... but you still said it, still played the card of it, he smiles for a few seconds. what a way to flirt with this man, truly dancing to the way he sings. with his eyes still on the moon he answers your original question,

"it is true, isn't it?" making you smile and look to the ground, of course, he'd respond with one of the polite ones, and of course, he'd know of this phrase... you turn your head to look at him and his eyes are already on you. he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

you wish to say something along the lines of 'don't hide your form, it is beautiful' but you just find yourself leaning your face closer to his, meeting foreheads. your free hand also meeting his cheek. the intimate gesture, making his first breath shaky but stabilized right after, his free hand moving around your waist. he knows, you don't even have to say those lines, he knows. but you will still remind him occasionally.

there's something you want to add, and you find yourself thinking over specifically which words to use, being careful... saying something 'till the last breath' might be a curse and a lie, what if you live longer than you've been meant to, turn into an enemy, so it isn't true? or 'till I die' and you don't end up dying? these thoughts run around your mind as you try to think of the right words, that would diminish your body and truly mean an end to your life.

"until my last heartbeat." a natural, true healthy living heart wouldn't continue beating, or beating in such a way it did in the beginning. it felt right.

you feel him nod. at some point he will return to that egg and simply reincarnate... or perhaps he won't? you do not know. making you the person who will end whatever you two have.

he knows the weight of your words, nodding against your forehead, then leaning back. he has plenty of thoughts and opinions, but it is all too far complicated so he says nothing. the moon is enough, keeping you two safe in this moment. beautiful in its way, shining brightly on you. another soft squeeze of his hand, you exhale and lean your head on his shoulder. maybe it won't end in a good way, a pretty way. but it doesn't matter now, and it shouldn't stop you from enjoying each other and appreciating every moment you get together.

a joyful high-pitched voice pops you two out of your bubble, "guys~ where are you? we are going soon~" the voice seems to be getting closer.

you both smile softly at the reality coming back. so strange that reality is pleasant and the future is not. getting your head off of his shoulder and releasing his hand, you see him focus on hiding his true form once more, making you frown. about to complain and scold him for doing that and he returns to his true form, moving closer and meeting your lips to distract you. the kiss isn't long, nor passionate, it says I'm here, don't worry. you open your eyes his draconic features still here and when March 7th makes the corner, the sound of her footsteps on the crunchy leaves is quite loud, his eyes focus on something in the distance and right before March sees you two, he is back in his humanlike form. you frown, you're about to scold him and March may listen as well-

"ah, there you guys are!" March smiles.

"yes, shall we?" Dan Heng answers, taking your hand in his and walking towards the astral express.

a/n: the phrase “the moon is beautiful isn’t it?” is a form of saying I love you, saying “it is true, isn’t it?” is a form of saying back that you agree, aka also love the other person, often used in manga and anime, in Japanese.

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shanbinswf · 11 months

Text

LEAVE YOUR LOVER — yoon keeho [repost]

landing page. main masterlist.

pairing: best friend roommate keeho x afab reader

genre: mild angst, mild fluff, smut (mdni)

plot: your best friend and roommate keeho doesn’t take too kindly to how your boyfriend treats you, so after some good food and a few glasses of wine, he makes a proposal. one night with him, and if you feel nothing, he’ll never bring up how shit your boyfriend is again.

wc: 4714

warnings under the cut.

warnings: reader cheats on her boyfriend, reader’s boyfriend is a right asshole (still don’t defend her cheating), mentions of body image and low self esteem, mentions of food and eating, mentions of alcohol consumption and being mildly drunk, kind of drunk sex but also kind of not. technically a part one.

YOU WOULD NEVER SAY YOU HATED YOUR BOYFRIEND PER SAY, BUT HE WAS FOR SURE MAKING HIS WAY INTO YOUR BAD BOOKS AS OF RECENT WEEKS.

His most recent stunt? You were meant to be hanging out with him over the course of a couple of days at some spa retreat weekend he had planned, only for him to flake out the morning of. He claimed he had some work ‘things’ he had yet to finish, but you knew the truth—he just wanted to spend the weekend drunk with his boys and forget he had a girlfriend back home, something he was seemingly starting to do quite often.

Lucky you hadn’t packed your bags. You had faced one too many weekend getaway trips being cancelled at the last minute for an array of reasons—none of which you believed.

He seemed to forget you both ran in the same circle of friends, though, so you often caught him out in his lies through the social media posts your friends posted with or of him. And the most recent night out? He even had a woman’s arms around his neck while they danced.

Your best friend and roommate, Yoon Keeho, was witness to all the screaming and writhing around you did when you held your phone to your face and read over the shitty messages your even shittier boyfriend send you.

While you couldn’t say you hated your boyfriend—despite being not far off from being able to make the claim; Keeho was less forgiving and very open about the fact he hated your boyfriend with his entire being.

Each time you invited your boyfriend over, Keeho was less than accommodating. He often made sure to push his way to sit between you so your boyfriend was either sandwiched to the end of the couch, or worst case, Keeho always made an effort to make himself as big as possible so he took up more space which more often than not ended with your boyfriend being forced to sit on the singular bean bag chair—the same one you often drunk-made out with Keeho on. A secret your boyfriend didn’t need to know.

Keeho lazed back in his usual chair at the small table you had both just bought and assembled. His fingers gently played with the stalk of the wine glass, and his eyes looked everywhere around the apartment bar at you. “We’ve really made this place our own, don’t you think?” A small, soft smile tugged at his lips.

You nodded your head, looking around also. The place was mostly decorated with Ikea furniture, but you had both chipped in to buy everything—it helped you had similar tastes. You admired the red pull out double bed couch in the living room, and you couldn’t help but feel excitement at the 55 inch TV that decorated the wall which cost… a lot. But it was worth it. It made your movie nights all the more exciting.

“Shame we can’t break the table in,” Keeho’s voice became low, barely audible but as the apartment was silent, you could still hear every word that passed his lips. At first, you didn’t respond. It took a few seconds of the words to sink in. And when they finally did, your eyebrow raised in reaction.

“Excuse me? I plan to eat at the table every meal, every day,” You defended, sitting up straighter. Your knees hit the leg of the table, making it shake slightly. You rushed to grab the base if your wine glass, not wanting to spill any. It was a bottle Keeho bought when you first moved out to live alone, mere weeks before he begged to move in with you as his old roommates were being kicked out of their apartment at that time.

And what kind of best friend would you be if you said no to him?

Keeho’s face deadpanned, and you realised the meaning behind his words rather swiftly. You gasped, but then raised your hand to hide your laugh. You tilted your head back. “Gross, I don’t want to think about my best friend fucking some random girl on the table I eat at!” Your face crinkled as you cringed, shaking your head furiously to try to rid yourself of the thought.

Keeho raised an eyebrow, leaning on his elbows. He leant across the table, and you felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. You had a boyfriend, the feelings you had for Keeho were wrong. But you still couldn’t snuff them out—no matter how hard you tried.

“Who said it was going to be some random woman? I was planning on fucking someone you know quite well,” And while a part of you thought he was insinuating it be yourself, you shook your head and reminded yourself to not get lost in the fantasy. You saw the girls he followed on his social media apps, the ones he often thirsted over (yes, even to you as he thrust his phone into your hand for better view of the screen)—the women who you deemed a total opposite to yourself.

“If you fuck one of my friends, you’re sleeping in a shitty tent on the balcony and I’m selling your room to someone else,” You faux threatened, but the humour didn’t reach your eyes as your chest ached just at the thought of his hands on someone else, ached at the thought of his attention being stolen by someone else—even worse at the idea of it being someone you know and call a friend.

You wanted that. You wanted… him.

Keeho leant back against his seat and brought the wine glass to his lips, tilting his head as he took a sip. He looked elegant, his white shirt sleeves pushed up his arms and his glasses sat on the edge of his nose. You wanted to pounce on him, but ever since you had been friends with him at the start of your college years, you had found great strength and control.

Back then, you always found Keeho incredibly attractive and even considered asking him for a one night stand several times, but when you guys went clubbing and found him in some corner with his hands on a stranger’s ass, you always backed out of the idea. And then you began to date.

Sure, most of your boyfriends never lasted long and some even claimed your friendship with Keeho was suspicious, you had learnt to keep your feelings and desires on a very tight leash over the years. Now your current boyfriend has no fear of you and Keeho living together, and you almost questioned if he would even think twice if he caught you and Keeho napping on the couch in one another’s arms—a common recent occurrence on lazy, rainy weekends.

Keeho placed the wine glass back on the table, his eyes locking onto you. “I never said it would be one of your friends. I just said you knew her very well.”

Your skin tingled, and you rushed to stand. You forced a laugh and pointed to the direction of your bedroom. “I’m going to take a shower and change into some pyjamas…”- Your voice trailed off as your mind flashed with an intrusive thought—begging to ask him to shower with you or wait patiently in your room as you busied yourself to look perfect in an attempt to gain his attention, even if it lasted just a second.

As if he could read minds, Keeho stood and held his wine glass, following behind you. You turned to face him as you reached your door, eyebrow raised with suspicion. “Why are you stalking me?”

“I’m going to watch a movie in your bed while you shower. You said it’s movie night so you have to keep your promises,” He sounded defensive, his lips pouted ever so slightly.

“We literally have a huge TV and pull-out bed in the living room,” You began, but his pout only increased at your words as he found himself disliking them the more you talked. You rolled your eyes and grabbed his face with your hand, squeezing his cheeks to force his lips to stick out even more. “You’re such a big baby, you know that?”

“Yeah, your baby,” He managed to get out, his face daring to turn so he could press a kiss to your wrist. You gasped and pulled your hand away from his face.

“Gross, Keeho germs,” You giggled, then turned to finally throw your bedroom door open.

“That’s not what you said a few weeks ago when you were making out with me and basically dry humping me,” Keeho spoke confidently, and your eyes fell wide as you looked around—as if your boyfriend or any other intruding ears could overhear.

“You promised not to talk about that, I’ve been good lately and I haven’t laid a hand on you in… that way ever since,” You defended yourself.

A part of you often lay awake at night after your drunken escapades with Keeho. He never pushed you away, no matter how much you got lost in the feeling of his lips. His hands always remained polite and on your waist, never daring to move in either direction. Surely any other just-a-best-friend would push you away if you kissed them… right? But Keeho… he never did.

“I wish you would,” Keeho said matter of fact my before he forced his way into your bedroom. He walked to your bed without a care in the word and placed his wineglass on the bedside table your boyfriend claimed his own, then he threw himself on the bed—the same place your boyfriend slept whenever he slept over, which was not often.

A place you wished was claimed by Keeho instead…

Your phone buzzed from in the drawer where you locked it before your Ikea trip, holding it prisoner for fear you would text your boyfriend in a fit of rage or sadness. Keeho noticed your eyes flicker to the drawer, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t you fucking dare give in. End it with him.”

You tore your eyes away from the drawer and made your way to your wardrobe. You opened the doors, then you pulled open the top drawer. Your hand reached in and you felt a pair of your favourite lounge ware, a grey coloured super soft set of pyjama shorts and a vest top with pale pink detailing of lace. You threw a look over your shoulder. “You know it’s not that easy,”

And then you disappeared into your en-suite bathroom.

That was one of the best and worst things about your apartment—both bedrooms had their own en-suite bathrooms. You wished there was a joint one sometimes, so you could relish in the scent of his body wash that suffocated the room when he was finished cleaning after his workouts or a long day.

A part of you also hated the idea, you wanted privacy to get lost in the world of Keeho-dreams—dreams of… an intimate nature. Dreams you felt ashamed to be having. Dreams your other friends assured you meant you were in love with Keeho. Dreams that had you delusional, and defensive over your own feelings at the same time.

The kind of dreams you should be having about your boyfriend and not your roommate and best friend.

You turned the shower on and allowed the room to steam up before you stepped in. The warm water hit you like a wave and hugged your body, making you feel comfortable and at ease. You had to remember he was just in the next room though, and you had to keep your hands tasked on only washing your body.

Once you felt clean, you washed your hair and then tied it back, too lazy to dry it properly. Then you made your way back to your bedroom.

Keeho was lazing against the headboard of your bed, and as he looked from the TV screen to you, you suddenly felt self conscious. It didn’t help that your bedroom had a cool air flowing through, hitting your exposed thighs and making you shiver.

You noticed his eyes looked down your body. Noticed how his eyes lingered a bit too long on your thighs. You rushed to sit on your side of your bed, grabbing a pillow to hide your body behind—and to attempt to gain some kind of warmth.

You smiled at Keeho, leaning closer to him to get a better view of the awkwardly angled TV screen. You silently made note to buy yourself a larger one, as out of you both, only you had a TV in your door. Keeho had a gaming PC, but it was out of commission for movies as one of his friends tipped water over the monitor and broke it—and Keeho has still yet to replace it.

“What are we watching?” You asked, your face closer to Keeho’s than you wished for, but you were doing a good job at controlling your inner urges.

“Some romance movie I think, I let Netflix choose one by random,” He replied, his arm snaking around your side to pull you closer.

Your body soon became flush to the side of his, and you wanted to either get up and run away, or sit on his lap and be even closer to him; but you stopped yourself from doing either option. You decided to rest your head on his shoulder, forcing a yawn to pretend you were tired. You just wanted to be close to him, but you couldn’t risk your friendship… Or relationship at that. The one you kept forgetting you were even in.

You watched the movie intently, inwardly cringing when a kissing scene appeared. Your eyes begged to flick to Keeho, to admire his perfect plump lips that you had last kissed a few weeks ago… you had to stop thinking about him like that—you had to forget your feelings for him and at least try to like your boyfriend for once.

As if right on cue, your phone began to buzz again, and you sighed.

You decided you best pick it up or he would call all night long. You pulled away from Keeho and threw your pillow on the floor, then you opened your bedside table a crack to pull the phone out but to ensure your privacy stayed intact. You knew if Keeho saw what you hid in your drawers, he would never let you live it down.

You rushed to shut the drawers, then you tried to slide the button to accept the call but the second your finger touched the green circle, your phone was swiped from your hands and thrown on a pile of nearby recently-cleaned clothes that needed folding and putting away.

You glared at Keeho. "What the fuck was that for?" You asked, rushing to get on your hands and knees so you could climb over him to get to the phone. But the second your left thigh landed on the bed the other side of his, his hands moved to grip your waist tight and hold you in place.

Keeho's eyes looked angry, and his grip was tighter than the soft lingering touches you were used to. You raised an eyebrow, confused by his sudden actions. He couldn't help himself, and his hands pulled your body to be flush against his. You gasped again, but this time you decided not to question him.

You had given in, and for once, you felt like you weren't the only one pushing your hidden desires onto him.

“Don’t answer his call,” Keeho’s voice was small, almost begging. Your eyes softened, and your hands came to rest on his cheeks. His own eyes softened at that, and his lips turned up into a smile.

“I can’t just ignore him all night,” You replied softly, which Keeho did not seem to take too kindly to. His hands tightened on your sides, your hands moving to hold onto his shoulders to support yourself. You felt like he was going to swallow you whole.

“Don’t you fucking dare try to answer his call, or we are over,” Keeho’s voice was louder this time, but somehow deeper. You blinked innocently, surprised.

“Us? Over? We’re roommates, you can’t just move out because I answered a phone call,” You giggled a little, trying to laugh off his reaction as nothing more than a best friend caring for you—being a little too possessive over you.

“I’m not talking about moving out, I’m talking about how you’re my girl,” He over pronounced the word my, which caused you to tilt your head. He leant his head back against the wall with a sigh, and his hands moved from your sides to your thighs. His hands ran up and down slowly, gently. And your self conscious concerns were slowly coming back.

“What do you mean by my girl?” You asked, pulling your off of his body. You still made no effort to pull away from him though, but from the way you shifted on his lap and received a sharp intake of breath, you knew he was about to say something either very hurtful, or something you had been dreaming about for years.

“You can’t really think of us as just friends, right?” Keeho asked, his eyes closed and face still tilted towards the ceiling. You shook your head, but realised he couldn’t see or sense the motion so you muttered a rejection to the statement. “Exactly, we’re basically a fucked up couple and have been for years. But I don’t want to keep denying my feelings or pushing us apart, which is why I’m telling you not to answer his calls. End it with him, leave him.”

“I’ve told you before, it’s not that simple—” You began to which his head shot back to your direction, and his hand slap your thigh with a slight sting. “What the fuck was that for?” You asked, voice a little too loud, to which he raised an eyebrow. “I can’t just ghost him. I have to end it with him properly, you know I’ve wanted to for a while… I just don’t know how.”

Keeho nodded his head in understanding, one of his hands moving to tangle into your hair while the other thank spanked your thigh rubbed over the pink skin soothingly. “Well we can worry about that later, but how about we have some us time tonight, yeah?” Keeho smirked and even wiggled his eyebrows for added effect.

You laughed at first, but then moved your hands to his shoulders with a serious look on your face. “But then won’t I be cheating?”

“Well…” Keeho began, tilting his head to the side. “If you think about it, from the day we first met, I’ve been claiming you as my girl so technically… you’ve been cheating on me for years.”

You rolled your eyes, the smile back on your lips. “Not sure that’s how it works, but you do you I guess.”

“I’d rather do you,” He murmured, his hand forming a fist to get a good grip on your hair before he leant forward and pressed his lips gently to yours. The all-too-familiar fireworks erupted under your skin, warmth spreading everywhere he touched. You craved him, needed him to survive. It was like you were drowning, and he was your last gasp of fresh air.

You pulled back so you could watch your hands as you slowly slid them from his shoulders, down his chest, then you finally let them find home on his stomach over his shirt. Your fingertips begged to reach under and trace along his skin, but you resisted the urge.

His hand moved up your thigh, the highest it had gone that night, and you flinched. He noticed the action as he had been very intently watching your face and ever reaction to how you relished in the feeling of his body being so close to yours, and he couldn’t help but frown. Had your boyfriend said something to make you fear men touching your thighs? The thought alone pissed him off more than he thought possible.

“You okay, angel?” His voice whispered, and you mumbled something at first which he couldn’t quite catch. “Speak up baby, I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”

“I asked can you maybe…” You sighed as you leant your head forward onto his shoulder, closing your eyes. “I’m a bit self conscious about people touching certain parts of my body and my thighs are one of those places,” You explained.

Keeho turned his head to press a kiss against your temple, his fist in your hair loosening as his fingers decided to gently run through it instead. You realised he was trying to soothe you, and you couldn’t help but smile as you pressed turned your head and pressed your face into his neck.

“You’re so fucking cute,” Keeho whispered before he attempted to pull your body back so he could resume kissing you. Your body grew hot at the compliment, and so you rushed to try to hide his eyes from noticing and so you pressed your lips to his first. But firmer this time.

This time, there was almost a sense of urgency behind the kiss. The pressure was firm and your lips moved against each other faster. His hands moved to your thighs again, but the pressure was barely there, as if he was ghosting his hands over your skin. The sensation felt good, a little too good. So you gasped, and Keeho let out a faint chuckle before he took advantage of the situation and intruded your mouth with his tongue.

When you and Keeho made out, it was always messy. Messy, needy, a mess of all your unspoken feelings in a rush to get out. But this time, there was no rush or any unspoken feelings. You knew how he felt about you, and so you were ready to give into it all.

Your hands daringly moved lower on his stomach, reaching under his shirt. You hadn’t intended to insinuate for him to take it off, but that was how he took the action… and you weren’t complaining. Keeho detached from your lips long enough to quickly unbutton his shirt and pull it off before he found home against your lips once again.

His body was radiating warmth, and so one of your arms moved to wrap around his neck as you tried to pushed your body into his as much as possible. You felt him smile against your lips, and his hand moved higher up your thigh.

Then all of a sudden, hands grip your sides and you were thrown onto your back. You blinked with surprise at the sudden action, looking up at Keeho who now lay between your legs above you. He smiled down at you, eyebrow cocked. “You look a little dazed already baby. Is kissing me that good?”

You nod slowly, too drunk off the feeling of his lips to respond with anything else.

He laughed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lower lip before he pulled back again. “Then wait until you feel my cock inside you. You’re going to be lost in heaven.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, the arm that was lazing around his neck moving to his hair to gently tangle in the locks. “You’re pretty confident in yourself, but all I hear are words and no proof.”

Keeho shrugged, his hands moving from your sides to the insides of your knees. “Well I’m more than willing to show you right now if you ask nicely.”

Again, you rolled your eyes to which Keeho tutted. His hands pushed your legs apart and against the bed, this one of them moved to spank the opposite thigh to the one he had earlier. The action caused you to gasp, and you looked down your body to find his slotted against yours as if he was made for you.

“Less attitude, or I’ll have to fuck it out of you,” He threatened.

You pushed your lips closed in a show you were going to listen to his every word, and he couldn’t help but smile and laugh at the action. He leant down and pressed his lips to yours, but kissing you slowly once again. His hand that spanked your thigh did the same as the other one and earlier, gently rubbing the pink skin to ease the slight sting he had caused.

But then his hands daring slid up your thighs higher, to where the bottom of your shorts sat. Between kisses, you took a sharp intake of breath—one he heard and couldn’t resist but to smirk at. He was relishing in the way your body was reacting to his every touch. God, he wished he had done that sooner.

His fingertips pushed up the bottom of your shorts, delicate and dancing along your skin. You rushed to grab his wrists, pulling back to look into his eyes. “What are we doing?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, right now we’re talking instead of kissing like we should be.”

You rolled your eyes once again, earning a slap on your thigh. “Attitude,” He warned to which you let go of his wrists and held your hands up to prove your innocence.

“I meant… we’ve only ever made out before…” Your words trailed off. He nodded in response, then took a few seconds to realise what you were asking. He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Well, would you like to do more?” He asked, laughing when you gave him a serious, almost stone cold look.

“You know I want to do more,” You replied.

“Well, do I? From what I can tell, I’m the one who has been simping over you all night while you’ve been too bust rolling your eyes or running your mouth,” Keeho responded.

“Please don’t make me get soppy about my feelings right now when your hands are basically under my clothes,” You laughed, Keeho laughing in response before he nodded with agreement. He decided to let it go… for now, he thought.

He leant his head back down, about to shower you in more kisses. You pursed your lips, waiting. But you never felt the pressure hit your lips. Instead, you felt soft lips trail down your jaw, down your neck… You took in a small breath, finding yourself enjoying the feeling as you closed your eyes.

One of Keeho’s hands pulled back from your thigh but instead moved to the front of your shorts, his fingers playing with the strings. He seemed… almost nervous to untie it. You nodded frantically, trying to focus on the feeling of his lips on your collarbones and his fingertips dancing on the inside of your thigh.

He felt the shake of your head so he pulled back and knelt above you, his fingers removed from your skin. His hands both moved to the strings of your shorts, and his eyes remained on yours as he gently pulled the strings. The top of your shorts felt loose, and you lifted your hips in an attempt to help him.

Keeho smiled softly and leant down to kiss your forehead before his fingers reached into the shorts, then he pushed them down your legs and threw them in the direction of the door to save yourself from having to struggle to determine which pile of your clothes were clean and which were dirty.

His fingers moved back to your thighs, resting on the soft inside. Your breath hitched as the self consciousness came back in waves. You looked around for your pillow to try to hide your body once again, and Keeho seemed to catch onto your feelings without you even expressing them.

“Baby,” He whispered, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear. “You look so beautiful, how did I get so lucky.”

You smiled at his words, your hand coming to rest on the back of his neck as your fingers found home to tangle into his hair.

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